Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings and all its characters and sceneries belongs to JRR Tolkien.

CHAPTER XXIX – MY VOICE, AFTER YOURS

"Your voice is a caress I do not know if I deserved."

Tere Penhabe

Celebrian smiled when the brothers came downstairs to the main room the following day. They had slept until nearly lunch time and now seemed eager to partake of the first edible thing that met their fingertips.

"Be polite, Elrohir!" Celebrian warned the youngest, when she saw him move around the table, take a piece of bread and shove it completely into his mouth. "We'll have lunch, you sleeper. Do you not see that the table is already set?"

Celboril, the family cook, smiled at the boys, seeing them already taking their seats, pulling napkins from beside their plates and picking up the silverware. Around them the family also settled. Elrond sat at the end of the table and Celebrian to his left. Across from her sat their two sons; Elladan near his father and Elrohir beside his brother. Glorfindel and Erestor were the last to arrive.

"A family lunch. Glad to see you all here. A pity that Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel are not among us today," commented the cook, when the last lords took their places. Glorfindel had taken the chair at Celebrian's hand, while Erestor sat across from the youngest twin.

"It's been some time since they have been here. My father's heart is with us, even though he would rather be here himself. It was hard to convince him that he should return to my mother's side." Celebrian smiled, sliding her eyes past the members of the family she had built with her husband, but in her mind adding to it the nurturing image of her parents. "At least our wise lords are with us today. That's good, is it not ionath-nîn?" she said, now looking at her husband and the newcomers. All three of them had spent the last few days so wrapped up in their respective business that they had not been able to share a meal with the Lady of Imladris and her children.

"We had many issues to deal with during those days, my good lady," commented the councilor in his formal tone. "So much paperwork did we receive. Believe me, eating in the library is not very pleasant."

"Neither is it hygienic," teased the blond warrior, taking his napkin from the table. "That place is never clean," he completed, and winked at the twins as soon he heard the barely audible snort of annoyance from the counselor that he'd expected. Erestor, as was his style, had tried to ignore the provocation, pretending to pay attention to the dishes that were placed on the table.

The brothers smiled, but soon they were imitating their dark-haired mentor's attitude. Celboril was an excellent cook, and every day the dishes he served were displayed differently. He always arranged the food in a clever fashion on the plates. He kept repeating that the art was not only in the creating, but also in the exhibition of the creation. He told them as well that the pleasure of food began by first observing it, then smelling its aroma and finally in the tasting of it.

"How beautiful are the potatoes," Celebrian said admiringly. She had always made a habit of complimenting Celboril's efforts. She had an extreme respect for his excellent cooking.

"Glad you approve, ma'am. I wish you a good appetite," the elf said, leaning over in a brief bow and moving away.

That's when the formality of the meals always eased. Sometimes Celboril himself, when he had no other chores, sat at the table with them. But the cook never served anyone. Each person could do that, except for the twins, whom their mother always served.

That was what happened every day, at least when Elrohir forgot his manners, which was quite common.

However, since returning from the long trip, this was the first meal that the family had witnessed him being really interested in what he ate and what was around him. So when the boy extended the fork he had been eating with to serve himself some more potatoes, and his mother reprimanded him, a feeling pervaded the room that was very difficult for everyone present to decipher. Perhaps it was because of the words that had casually escaped from the Lady of Imladris' lips.

"Elrohir! Don't you know how to ask, little boy?" she said, and Elrohir's eyes had turned toward her then.

Aware of her mistake, Celebrian took a deep breath. At first she found herself completely helpless, but then she started trying to imagine how she could get around the situation without giving it any excessive value. She was afraid that that might call attention to her slip of the tongue and in the end be more harmful than helpful. After thinking about it, the elf-lady decided to take another route, even if it was also risky. Keeping her face steady as her son returned her look, she gazed back at him with an expression of disapproval; one that any mother would have shown in similar circumstances.

"Don't you know how to ask, little boy?" she repeated, showing him the big spoon with which the potatoes were supposed to be served.

The boy's eyes did not move from her face at first, and Celebrian finally felt a strange shiver run down her spine. Maybe she had gone too far. Maybe she had exceeded Elrohir's emotional limits. The signs of his trials were still very visible in him. However, instead of showing any reaction of revolt, she noticed that her son slowly inhaled, and then after a pause, he lifted his plate toward her.

Celebrian dropped her shoulders, relieved, but her eyes welled up with what she saw on her son's face. Elrohir gave her a look of apology, even with his plate raised. Ilúvatar she loved him so much; she never wanted to be angry with him again, not even for an instant, especially for something this foolish.

"All right, here they are," she said, keeping herself from crying and putting a few more spoonfuls of potatoes on his plate for him. But he continued to look at her, even more dismayed. Elbereth, she had to control her reactions better; she needed to stop showing her pain so openly, or the boy would never get better. "And without so much pepper sauce on the potatoes this time," she said. Her smile was still soaked in tears, which she was trying to contain.

After putting his plate back on the table in front of him, Elrohir continued to watch his mother for a little while longer. He then offered her an equally unconvincing smile in return. Heedless of her earlier warning, he carelessly picked up the pot of sauce, putting several heaping scoops over his food.

Celebrian closed her eyes and smiled. The boy's capacity to always act according to his own will was unbelievable, even though he had clearly been instructed otherwise. She then smiled wider when she saw Elladan take the pot of sauce out his brother's hand with a look from which you could almost read the phrase: "Hey! Nana said 'without much pepper sauce.' Did you not hear the first time?"

Yes. Maybe this was one of Elladan's many attempts to appease the spirits, and maybe those words were exactly what Elladan was mentally saying to his brother because an air of displeasure settled on Elrohir's face, before the twins made the same small play of force that they always did: Elladan pulling the pot away with a laugh, and Elrohir trying to get it back at all costs.

It was this frequent, almost comical interaction between the twins that the adults at the table realized they had been missing so much, even though they knew they must now demonstrate their disapproval. A war game of two brothers on an ordinary sunny afternoon, a game that Elladan always won, secured by a disapproving look from his father. This time, however, Elrond showed his disapproval with more camouflaged pleasure than genuine desire to rebuke.

Once the small and pleasant impasse between the brothers was resolved, all returned to enjoy their meals quietly. Celebrian let out a brief sigh, then imagined that perhaps life would just continue calm and ordinary for a while, exactly this way: not quite perfect, but mild, free of large wounds or needs of consolation. Then she realized that she was just pushing the food around on her plate without having tasted it, separating the potatoes from the carrots, moving the vegetables, placing the meat in another position. Maybe Celboril was right to spend so much time on the simple act of arranging colors and flavors on a dish. Perhaps the mere assurance that everything was in its right place could be enough, could make a difference. And perhaps a sense of security could follow in its turn, one at a time, and then everything else would follow, those things necessary to the happiness of rebuilding a home. It was a bittersweet feeling, but it was better than many of the others that she had been experiencing of late.

The family meal seemed to continue without any great desire for longer conversation. Glorfindel's voice sounded at times, making comments that were more aimed at Elrond or Erestor than the others present. And the elves were engaged in a rapid exchange of ideas between one or another forkful. Yes, everything seemed in place. She looked up toward the window, and then tried to see in those rays of spring sunlight, which brought color to the land at this time of year, the will she needed to transform all her guesses into certainties.

It was then that someone noticed her sadness, even though she'd been trying to hide it. But the Lady of Imladris did not hear the comment at first, not even the speaker, who had made the query in a worried tone that was aimed directly at her. She thought she heard something, but it seemed so unreal that to protect her mother's subconscious mind she had hastened to deny the true fact.

But there was an awkward silence, an awkward silence that was full of meaning, which eventually forcibly dragged Celebrian back to herself, back to the place where she was, exactly when she heard again what she thought was only a reflection of her desires.

"Nana?"

Elbereth. It could not be true... That was the first word he had spoken, when he was still a baby. It could not be true... that this was his first word after so long a time. And he had just repeated it, at that very moment, looking into her eyes. He had called her... Like the first time... Was it really true?

Had he called her?

Had he actually… called her name?

Elbereth... He had...

But...

Why had he spoken?

"Yes… Yes, my dear... What is it?" she quickly asked in an insecure tone, while looking into a pair of bright dark orbs.

Elrohir inhaled, pressing his lips together, then he dropped his jaw and blanched as if only now realizing what he had just done, as if his instincts had been stronger than his control had been. He had let his heart speak, let it take the reins again. And now he seemed not to know what to do. He seemed not to know what the next step should be. His agonized eyes fell from her face then, settling hastily on the first thing that clearly was within his reach.

"I... I want some water, please," he said quickly, grabbing his glass and extending it toward Celebrian. In fact Elrohir was far from wishing that his mother would serve him water, because of the way his hand was shaking as he held the glass, and certainly Celebrian's hands, now firmly laced under the table, were far from being able to carry out his request.

There was a moment of silence again, a silence full of more uncertainties, but also full of expectation. It was as if everyone was holding their breath just waiting anxiously for a moment when they could breathe easily again. Yes, maybe that explained what seemed unexplainable. But there was no room for explanations or evasions or forced smiles. Soon the younger twin stood up, seeming to take back the reins of the unfriendly horse he was trying to ride, in a way that nobody had learned to do better than he, and he moved quickly around the table toward his mother, who was already waiting for him with opened arms.

And it was her embrace what he won.

But Celebrian won much more...

She had not even managed to rise from her chair, and now she had her head resting gently on Elrohir's chest. He was standing beside her, hugging her. She was feeling every emotion as she listened to the rapid pace of the boy's unconquerable heart.

Across the table, Elladan watched the scene with his lips parted. His father had taken his hand and that was the only certainty he had that he was not dreaming.

After a while in his mother's arms, listening to her words of affection and getting her cuddles, Elrohir walked slowly back to his place, picking up his silverware and focusing on his food, as if he really did not want to know what anyone else around him was doing. He also rubbed his face a few times, drying the fresh tears, but soon he was purposely focused on cutting a piece of his meat.

Elrohir was indeed much more courageous than he imagined. How was it possible? How was it possible to be surprised by someone you've known for so long? That's what Elladan thought, knowing how hard the act of finally speaking had been for his brother. When Elrohir raised his eyes quickly and caught his twin watching him, Elladan looked away, but soon he realized that Elrohir had not done the same, so he returned his gaze to him, thinking that maybe there was something he wanted to tell him, even in thought.

"Your glass is empty too." Those were his brother's words, which made Elladan frown, not understanding their meaning immediately. "Are you not thirsty? Don't you want some water, too?"

Elladan took a few moments more to fully comprehend the value of the door his brother was trying to open for him. He then turned to his mother and realized that her tears had not yet dried. She looked at him intently, as if she seemed to miss something… or someone.

"I... I'm thirsty..." he said, raising his glass and looking tenderly at his mother. "Could I have some water, please, nana?"

Celebrian returned his gaze, but instead of attending the request, she held her son's hand in hers, stroking his fingers and wrist a few times and smiling broadly, before releasing him and serving water to him as well as her youngest son.

Soon each brother was busy with his meal again, but this time the two of them continued eating with no more interruptions. The adults allowed themselves to just sit quietly, exchanging glances and nods of acknowledgment, and taking in, personally, the feeling of pleasure that this unexpected event had finally given them.

From that day on all of Rivendell seemed taken by moments of extreme peace. Mornings started mildly, the birds appreciated the new forms of spring, the elves' songs echoed around the small squares throughout the city, and the Lord of Rivendell's twin children spent their days in the Library, before their old master.

Perhaps in this last facet of life, things were much too identical to what had been before. At least for the upset Elrohir, who spent almost all his classes fidgeting in his chair with his eyes reflecting more the blue that teased him beyond the window, than facing the tasks assigned to him.

Erestor watched him from the corner of his eyes, occasionally invading the silence of reading with a small sound of disapproval, which soon brought the younger twin back to the pages he should have been studying. Actually, though covertly, the counselor felt sorry for the boy, seeing him serving again a penalty imposed by his father and his master of arms, because of the totally undisciplined attitude of the boy's last visit to the training camp.

Erestor didn't set himself against his friends' decision because he knew what had motivated it: A newly closed wound, bruises almost disappearing, a healing heart... Everything Elrohir was trying to work through required more than mere zeal to conquer. No, it was not worth the risk of placing an overload on the boy, since he was so recently recovered. Now they were much more aware of this than when the two brothers had first returned to their routines.

The problem was in trying to convince a young elf of this, who was very upset with the punishment.

However, a brief look of disappointment and a little tightening of his lips had been the boy's only outward manifestations of his frustration, when his father and mentor clarified why he would spend four long weeks without stepping into the training camp. The younger twin thought of trying to negotiate the punishment, because, in his naiveté and lack of belief in his patrons' concerns, he only attributed the punishment to his attitude of rebellion. However, the thought of bargaining against it would mean having to apologize to the presumptuous Angahor in front of the others, and that seemed too expensive to the young Elf, no matter what the motivation of the adults in charge.

The proud Elrohir was then resigned to the punishment, bearing day after day in the library with his always supportive brother, but every minute spent there was as if he were chewing a most bitter herb.

So when the blond warrior entered the library that evening, as he had at the end of each day of the two brothers' penalty, only the older twin's eyes turned to him. Glorfindel already expected this, especially after more than ten days of that routine. He just exchanged a disguised look of complicity with the other boys' mentor and settled himself in the chair before Erestor, absently watching the performance of little enthusiasm of the healer's children.

Soon Elladan rose, bringing Erestor a scroll with the exact copy of a very green map. That had been his afternoon task and he seemed relieved to finally have it finished. The pleased look his master accorded him also brought a little satisfaction to Elladan, slightly tempering the distress of one more tedious day of studying.

"Good job, Elladan!" Erestor used his words to always adequately enhance his approval with the execution of the task done well. He then turned his dark eyes to the other twin, and his lips twisted slightly to realize that all the boy's pitiful concentration had produced was something quite far from being classified as cartography.

Elrohir, when he felt himself being watched, just let out a long sigh of frustration. He'd heard the praise his brother had received, and this was not exactly how he'd wanted to finish this afternoon of confinement. Elladan had looked at him for a moment, then dropped his shoulders, showing how disappointed he was in him. He could tell that his brother wanted him to be a bit more careful with the looks and other manifestations of displeasure that he couldn't seem to keep inside. This annoyed Elrohir, making the end of this day even more frustrating that it had already been.

"From what I see somebody will get out of here after the awakening of the stars," Glorfindel said sarcastically. To Elrohir those words seemed even harsher than the ironic comments Erestor had been using to scold him for situations like this. "What happened elfling? You are the fastest designer of all your master's pupils, and now you are not able to trace the paths that you need to memorize?" He asked, and when the young elf frowned angrily, Glorfindel added, "What would you do on your next inconsequential trip through these lands, if you did not have at least a legible draft to guide you?"

The joke stole a look of surprise and resentment from the boy that no one had seen lately, but that did not touch Glorfindel. The blond elf just stared back into the boy's darkened eyes, then he threw another piece of parchment across the table, lifting his chin defiantly and wilting the boy's desire to give the answer that seemed to want to escape his lips.

"You can go, Erestor," Glorfindel said, without looking away from Elrohir, who, although visibly upset, did not give up doing the same. Elbereth, this elfling is really brave. "I'll guarantee that in the morning you will have on your desk the best map of this region you've ever seen."

Erestor's eyes continued to take in the scene for a moment. He definitely did not approve of his friend's methods on some occasions, but before this impasse, he didn't feel comfortable discrediting him in front of their pupils. For this and only this reason, he slowly rose from his chair, a little distressed. Before leaving, however, he put a hand on Elladan's shoulder.

"You can come, too, Elladan. Your work has been completed satisfactorily."

The older twin hesitated, glancing at his blond master. There was undeniable meaning in his questioning eyes that Glorfindel could have understood even if he'd had his back to the child. Actually, Erestor had made the invitation out of mere formality, because he knew as well as anyone where Elladan wanted to be.

"You can stay if you want to, elfling," Glorfindel said, without abandoning his mocking tone. "But you will not lift a finger to help this lazy one here."

This time Erestor thought it better to leave without observing the reaction of the younger twin. Elrohir was, without a doubt, his most troublesome pupil, and he did not want to carry to his pillow the look that the boy would surely direct to his master after Glorfindel's last comment. He merely bade farewell to his blond friend and warned the brothers with a quick "Behave yourselves, boys!" before crossing to the door and shutting it quickly behind him.

Elladan's eyes followed his master as he left, but then he stood where he was for a while. He had already risen to hand in the map he had done, and then he couldn't figure out which path to take. Occupying the chair next to Elrohir was definitely something that he knew Glorfindel would not allow, so he remained standing, facing his mentor with questioning eyes.

"Go get a book to read," Glorfindel advised, with a small hand movement that was not even accompanied by a glance. His attention was still hard on the figure in front of him. Elrohir had placed his hands on the table and seemed willing to ignore the mentor's command about redoing his map.

Yes. If his master wanted to see the stars awaken, he would give him more than that. Glorfindel could stay here until the sun came back to shine its veil of light on them.

Glorfindel's lips drew up, however, into a very subtle smile.

Astalder, the Brave. It was how Celeborn called his youngest grandson. A very fitting name.

Elladan felt the conflict of wills and that did not please him. He moved away, bringing a book with him to the table, so as to not add more reasons for disappointment to the already tense situation. He opened the book without even looking at it carefully and pretended to read. What was left to do? Just wait and hope that things didn't get more complicated.

But Elrohir began to feel the passage of time in a different way from his brother. Glorfindel was leaning back in his chair, showing his evident willingness to wait as long as was necessary.

Waiting. It was clear that the boy just could no longer stand to wait until he had his life back to normal again.

"I do not want to redo this damn map," Elrohir finally said, and his voice awakened an almost hidden surprise in his master. Everyone seemed so used to the children's silence that sometimes he and his brother were taken aback by the attitude of utter shock on the faces of some of them, when they heard either of the twins speak.

Glorfindel exhaled noisily.

"I do not remember having asked you this, elfling."

"I am no longer an elfling."

"You're acting like one."

"Because you treat us as such," Elrohir finally said, becoming brash. He was so tired of this punishment he could hardly continue acting in the way that he knew was his obligation. "Since I got here, the only thing I ever do is copy these damn books and maps, just because I cannot get along with those idiots who train with me."

This time Glorfindel did not answer so quickly. He kept staring at the boy for a while, before asking, in a tone completely devoid of the flippancy he had been using in their conversation so far.

"And why can you not get along with your friends?"

"They are not my friends."

"They are more than that, Elrohir."

Elrohir gritted his teeth in frustration, but the master's sentence confused him more than he would like to admit.

"What do you mean?" he asked with obvious disdain, turning his eyes to the window, beyond which the landscape had slowly darkened, as he tried to disguise his interest in the subject at hand.

Glorfindel waited to respond until the boy turned his eyes back to look at him. He knew that he would, so another smile almost escaped him when he saw Elrohir's eyes move in his direction, even though it obviously annoyed the young elf.

"What do you mean?" he repeated, now angrier.

The blonde elf took a deep breath, then exhaled in one motion. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands fall loose between his legs.

"They are your soldiers, Elrohir. They are your soldiers, Captain. They are your soldiers, warrior."

Elrohir frowned, but soon his lips drew up in the same air of indignation that seemed to be his trademark, and he clicked his tongue, turning to look out the window again.

"Why don't you go play with someone else, Glorfindel? The things you are saying aren't very funny."

Elladan breathed in slowly, disguising his nervousness. Elbereth, Elrohir sometimes risked more than was necessary.

But Glorfindel gazed out the window then, since he did not intend for the situation to develop into a more serious conflict. He looked at the worried Elladan for a moment and even offered him a small smile before turning back to face the younger twin.

"For generations, many of the elves were born blessed with a gift of foresight," he said, nodding his head positively as he received Elrohir's unwilling attention. "Your father feels the direction of pain, the pathways of disease. He can predict how to rescue someone from ills, and he can sense some things that the future holds for some people, pain or joy."

The brothers looked at each other and then, uncertain about asking the next question, started rubbing their throats nervously. Elrohir wanted Glorfindel to explain himself, but he was too angry to allow himself to show interest in what his master was trying to tell them. Perhaps because of this, good Elladan played this role.

"And you, Glorfindel?" he asked.

The warrior let the silence invade him a bit before looking at the twins and answering:

"I see the warriors' fate. At least of some of them."

The younger twin parted his lips, but then he curled them in an air of disbelief or disapproval.

"The best or the worst?" He wanted to know, and his question stole from Glorfindel that characteristic laugh. That was Elrohir! When everybody expected a specific query from him, he always obliged them with that kind of question.

"Do you think I would be investing my time and knowledge in you, elfling, if I had seen you would be the worst warrior that would ever set his feet on the battlefield?"

Elrohir moved his face into a new air of incredulity.

"You could be trying to correct me. Ada says that it is useless to see the future if you do not do something to change it."

Glorfindel laughed again, shaking his head. Ah, Manwë, Lord of the Breath of Arda, why do these children grow up so fast?

Elrohir, however, did not seem as pleased with that issue as was his mentor. He kept looking at Glorfindel and tolerating his sustained laughter for a while, before his little patience was finished again.

"I do not know what's so funny," he said, crossing his arms over his chest in utter disgust.

Glorfindel, once again, was undeterred. He continued with his almost sarcastic smile, lifting his lips and showing his very white teeth for so long, he judged the boy could barely tolerate looking at him. Then when Elrohir let out a snort of even greater contempt and moved as if to get up from where he sat, the blond elf said:

"Angahor will be in your patrol, he will be at your command one day," he said, and when he saw the boy frown and his face harden with renewed displeasure, he added, "and you both will help one another limitless times, and will save the life of another more frequently than I would like to see happen."

Elrohir felt his jaw drop, but any other of his reactions was swallowed by the end of his mentor's revelation:

"Angahor will be in your group, and Atarael and Arnamo and Ilfirion and Séretur and Cúndur and Earon, and Varyar and Laston, and Turo, and Herion... and Elladan," Glorfindel said with seriousness and every name on that list, including even many veteran students' names, stole a little more of the younger twin's color. "They all will be at your command, under your protection, at the mercy of your decisions, honored by your friendship, elfling," he added, and he finally reached out to grab Elrohir's arm tightly. "Boy, I have in my mind that your experience was not in vain. That although it has robbed you of good feelings in your childhood that should have lasted a bit longer, it compensated with some baggage that might in the future make you a mighty warrior... That's what I want to believe, elfling. I want to believe in the warrior you will become. I want to believe in this because I know that sometimes all may depend on your lucidity, Elrohir. All may depend on your experience, your caution, your good will toward them. So, you stubborn boy, wish your friends well, love them all as your brothers and get ready, because, often, it is only the friendship that you have with others that will unite you, that will save you from the worst life has to offer."

The next morning, as soon as he entered the library, Erestor was surprised to find the two brothers already engaged in reading and writing. He paused for a moment at the door, wondering if he was awake or perhaps just walking in a strange dream. But once realizing his presence, the boys stood simultaneously in a synchronized movement which was characteristic of them.

"Good morning, master," they welcomed him in unison.

Erestor remained where he was for a time, hoping he was hiding the feeling of utter surprise that had been roused him by the scene. He slowly approached, looking at the boys with attention, as if to assure himself that those really were the two sons of the Lord of Imladris.

"Good morning. Sit down, children," he said then, and again frowned to see the twins obey in another highly synchronized movement. He took a few uncertain steps, then took his place in front of the pupils. Before he could ask them what they were doing, he saw the map on his desk, which had been promised by his blond friend the day before.

"I also drew the Brown Lands, to complete the eastern region," Elrohir said, while his master's eyes admiringly scanned the excellent work they saw. "Is it correct, master?"

"It's excellent ..." Erestor blurted, surprised by the polite speech, then looked up at the boy, as he continued to think that the person that was speaking to him just couldn't be Elrohir.

Elrohir returned his mentor's gaze, and Erestor felt as if he were seeing something really new there, in those gray eyes, something he was unable to classify, but that pleased his heart. What had Glorfindel done after his departure? His pupils adored him so much that many times he had come to judge the blond warrior was some kind of hypnotist.

"Can we talk about the Brown Lands today, master?" Elrohir brought him back from his somewhat inconsistent reverie, and Erestor turned to focus his eyes on the young elf.

"The Brown Lands?" he asked after a moment. "What do you want to know, Elrohir? I hope you do not intend to make some dangerous journey to that region," he completed, failing to hold in a hint of sarcasm and now regretting not doing that, when he saw the boy sigh weakly. "I apologize. That was a nasty comment, I admit."

Elrohir looked down at the map he had drawn, still in his master's hands, then raised his eyes.

"I just wanted to know more about the Ents," he said, and his tone was not of a diligent student wishing to delve into the matter studied, but a tone that the counselor had not heard Elrohir use for a great length time: the tone of a child still yearning for another good story; for a moment of distraction.

Erestor's brows barely lifted, and he finally smiled, remembering how fantastic he found this age, which the twins were experiencing at present. One day they demanded their rights, as if they were the owners of the world; the next day they longed for a simple embrace, followed by a trail of unpretentious attention.

"So you want to know about the Ents?" The mentor let the smile remain on his face a bit longer. He also grew tired of these grueling days of arduous tasks and little pleasure. The smile he received from his pupils in response was the motivation he needed.

He then stood up, walked to the bookshelf looking carefully through the various volumes. He then pulled the little ladder over, to help him reach a large greenish binder on an upper shelf, which was slightly supported by a series of equally old books. Once having the book in his hands, the counselor, however, did not come back to the table where they'd all been sitting, he took another direction, going from this corner of the library over to the couch and then he sat on it. He placed the huge book on his legs with a sigh of satisfaction, but before opening it, he looked up at the two students, still seated, but who had followed each step of his master carefully. The brothers looked at each other and their smiles widened. Soon they occupied each side of their mentor, their eyes locked on those richly illustrated pages that they hadn't ever seen before.

"Well... Let's see..." he said, moving purposefully through the pages, so as not to steal the boys' chance to see the details of the pictures presented in the volume. "Ents are an old race that appeared in Middle-earth when the Elves did. They were created by Eru Ilúvatar, but some people say that Yavanna, when she learned of Aulë's children, the Dwarves, foresaw that they would be the enemies of the trees, so she…"

And after that time, other times have followed, less laden with ill will and disagreements, most favored by the patience of both master and disciples, who now accompanied the mentor's thoughts and followed his instructions with the least possible objection.

When Glorfindel entered the room again, at the end of the brothers' thirtieth day of work, he was surprised to find them completely engaged in a common task that seemed to be giving them some pleasure. Neither of them even noticed his presence. They were on the library floor, both of them wrapped with twine and with bits of wood scattered around them. He walked closer and came near to Erestor, who watched the scene standing beside a shelf.

"How was your day?"

"We've had a good one. We've studied the wind. So they are building an indicator of wind direction to test some of Elladan's theories about the direction of the air currents in the valley."

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows admiringly. Normally he sympathized with the boys' unwillingness to attend Erestor's classes, considering that he had never seen anything so interesting in his dark-haired friend's lessons. Not until this moment.

"How did you get to this point?" he asked curiously, while Erestor offered some instructions on the placement of the arrows to Elrohir, who was busy trying to put them at the correct angle. The boy smiled then, seeing Glorfindel.

"We're doing a weathervane," he said, sounding excited.

"Weathervane," Erestor repeated with a smile. "Yes, yes, we can call it that too."

Glorfindel smiled back, nodding in approval. Soon the brothers were again concentrating on what they were doing, and their faces had that seriousness only seen in times when they were both completely absorbed in learning a new sword movement, that must be executed precisely. When Erestor approached the blond warrior again, he seemed to read what had gotten his friend's attention.

"They are frighteningly efficient," he said and smiled when he received a simple nod as answer from Glorfindel, who was still very focused on the task he saw the boys performing as if they were grown men.

"Frighteningly efficient," Glorfindel finally repeated. "Actually I do not know which of them surprises me more, since they seem to take turns in doing that day to day, when they do not do it together as they are doing now."

"Without a doubt. If fate does not separate them, they will really be a force like few have seen in the past."

That informal comment, however, brought a shiver to the blond warrior's spine. He took a deep breath, trying to lessen the feeling of dread Erestor's words roused in him.

"When are you both going to test this apparatus?" he asked in a joking tone that could hide the little apprehension that had just invaded him. Elladan looked up at Erestor and the master just raised his eyebrows as if instructing him to seek that answer on his own.

"Morning..." the older twin risked. "There is enough breeze here, so the wind should be stronger near the waterfall," he completed, and was satisfied to see the air of contentment on Erestor's face that he only offered when his pupils reached a correct deduction sooner than expected.

"So be it," Glorfindel said. "But I want you both in the training camp as soon as you have finished it, and I hope not to wait the entire morning. Try to get up early for this task you've arranged with Master Erestor."

Elrohir was so focused on the doing of the task he was absorbed in that he almost ruined the whole structure, when the comprehension of those words he'd heard reached his brain.

"Will we be allowed onto the training field tomorrow?" he asked incredulously.

"The four weeks' period has already ended." Glorfindel tried to give that information less relevance than it actually had. "You will have to divide your time between your two mentors again. No complaints will be accepted about it."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other for a moment, then new smiles of satisfaction embellished their faces.

"At last!" Elrohir said, even more excited now.

"Perfect," Elladan agreed. "Come on, Ro, we have to finish this soon, so we can have dinner and sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow."

"All right!" said the youngest with conviction, and both returned to focus on the finishing of their little project.

Glorfindel kept watching the two boys for a while, then remembered the unanswered question.

"How did they get to this point?" he repeated to the dark-haired elf at his side. "Your lessons rarely involve anything this creative."

Erestor twisted his lips slightly.

"Since when do you attend to my classes to see how creative they are or are not?"

"I don't need to. Even the most foolish of elves who ever knew you would reach the same conclusion."

Erestor moved his eyes slightly to throw his friend a look of genuine upset now, but he met the same teasing smile as ever.

"Your classes are actually much more creative than mine, master warrior," he then said, giving up a more serious charge, as he always did in the face of Glorfindel's taunting. "Move your legs, move your feet, move your hands, move yourself, creature!" Erestor loosely mimicked his blond friend's tone to offer evidence of his theory, and that was enough to throw the twins into a fit of laughter. There were few times when the counselor undid his mask of utmost seriousness, but when he did, it ever aroused immense pleasure in his pupils.

Glorfindel ignored the baiting, as he seldom did, his eyes now focused on what he was seeing, and it revealed to him something he had subconsciously long been waiting for. The two brothers laughed a little more, but when they realized they were being observed by their blonde master, they took a deep breath and just smiled back. Glorfindel sighed, feeling Erestor's hand on his shoulder. The two masters exchanged a brief glance, a mixture of satisfaction and relief filled them comfortably.

"Well..." Glorfindel was then forced to abandon what had just occurred to him, returning to disguise himself as the master he should be. "Do not be late or I'll pick you up by the ears," he threatened, advancing toward the door, behind which he could again surrender himself to the ideas that were visiting him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

On the following morning the twins rushed through all of Erestor's assignments as much as they could and were able to get to training camp in time for its beginning, as Glorfindel had instructed them. They were determined not to resume the training activities with any of the misconduct that had gotten them in trouble in the first place, wishing to return without any bitter tastes.

They came running through the trees, but soon they looked around themselves, confused when they realized that the place was empty. The boys looked at each other and looked to the sky once more before the older inquired, intrigued.

"Is it no longer here?"

"Of course it is. If it was in another field Glorfindel would have told us."

Elladan did not seem pleased with the answer; he let his gaze expand into the distance in search of some friends, but he saw no one.

"And now this." Elrohir pursed his lips in his upset. "Do you think Glorfindel went hunting with a group of the older pupils and did not tell us?"

"He would not do that ..."

"You're right..." Elrohir had to agree, but the empty field was giving him a very unpleasant feeling. When he turned to suggest to his brother that they go try and find their master, they saw Glorfindel approaching with the equipment. The brothers ran toward him.

"Glorfindel, where is everybody?" inquired Elrohir who, after receiving a reproachful look from his mentor, reformulated the question. "Where are all, Master?" He couldn't just rephrase the question; he had to ask it with his eyes rolled to the sky and his impatience more than known. He had not actually intended to slip in discipline on the first day, but he had been totally displeased to find the place empty.

Glorfindel frowned, pretending dissatisfaction with the boy's sarcasm, and then moved away.

"This morning there will be no training for beginners."

"What do you mean, there will be no training?"

"There will be no training. Which of these words you did not understand? Would you like me to translate them into another language? I don't know, Elrohir; you've not previously showed interest in studying other languages, new or old," sneered the master, walking through the field and adjusting some of the weapons that he always had at his disposal there.

"Oh, it was really very nice of you to have warned us." Elrohir snorted and continued to walk with the master.

But Elladan was still puzzled and kept looking around the empty field. He could not ever remember the boys not having training in any period of the year before.

"If we knew that you would make fools of us, we would not have rushed to finish our task near the waterfall," Elrohir added, remembering how much he had actually resisted the temptation to taste the sensation of those cold clear waters that they had visited. He just loved to swim there and had not done so only because he had promised to arrive here on time.

Glorfindel chuckled, while continuing to adjust the wooden swords and other weapons in their places, opening space on one side of the table on which the majority of the equipment sometimes stayed overnight.

Elrohir walked in the opposite direction through the field, shaking his head indignantly, still incredulous about the opportunity lost. It would be quite a while before he would have the chance to visit that waterfall again.

"It's warmer today than yesterday… and I don't think it is going to rain…" Elladan said, pointing to himself, still not understanding the reason for the dismissal of his colleagues. He then approached his mentor. "Master, why will there be no training for us today?"

Glorfindel stopped what he was doing, and then he brought forth a great package that would take up the space he had just emptied on the table.

"At last one of you is interested in something important," he teased.

Elrohir stopped in his tracks, realizing that this was something beyond the ordinary needling from the master. He went back and stood beside his brother.

"I have not told you would not train today."

"You said there would be no training for beginners," Elrohir remembered.

"You are no longer beginners," Glorfindel said casually.

The brothers looked at each other.

"Aren't we?" they asked in unison.

"No. No more training with the small ones."

"Are we going to join the older ones?" Elrohir asked, incredulous.

"Not yet. I need to prepare you better for that."

"Nah!" Elrohir let his arms fall noisily against his sides in frustration. "I knew it was too good to be true," he commented, already starting to move away again. "What will you do? Give us even heavier wooden swords?"

Glorfindel stared at the angry twin for a few minutes. Elbereth, he longed for the day that the boy would be able to channel that anger, which usually grew out of absolute nothingness. If he was ever able to do so, Elrohir would be an invincible warrior.

"I said you are not beginners anymore." Glorfindel tried to pretend to ignore Elrohir's outburst. Then he focused back on the tied package he'd brought. Elladan's attention was on it too.

"What is it, master?" he asked, and only then did Elrohir come closer too, moved by his twin's puzzled tone.

Glorfindel let their expectations grow for a while, then slowly he untied the knots and exposed something that took the twins a few moments longer to believe was real, even after seeing it.

"Elbereth…" Elrohir did not wait, quickly picking up one of the swords that were in the same package.

"Are they ours?" Elladan asked, not even touching the remaining weapon, and looking at his mentor with a skeptical air.

Glorfindel rested his hand on the child's shoulder with a simple nod.

Only then did Elladan repeat the action of his brother, carefully picking up the remaining sword. It was the brightest one he had ever seen. It wasn't sharp yet, as training swords couldn't be, but it would be one day, by the hands of a good blacksmith, as soon as its owner was allowed to have it as a real weapon.

Nothing distinguished the two swords, except a small stone at the base of the cable, which disappeared once in the hands of its owner or holder. Elrohir's sword had a ruby embedded in it and Elladan's a sapphire.

Glorfindel sighed deeply; he had not told the boys which sword belonged to each of them, but, surprisingly, each one picked up the weapon that he should have. In secret, Glorfindel wanted to give Elrohir the same stone as that in Cirdan's ring and Elladan, the one that was in Elrond's.

Elrohir was unaware of such small details, but he wore a wide smile, the shine of which seemed to be reflected in the sword he was wielding and already moving in the air, feeling its weight, appreciating its sound.

"It's so beautiful!" he finally said, approaching Glorfindel again. "Thank you, master!"

Glorfindel smiled.

"Look. Someone can say thank you."

"Thank you," Elladan said, correcting his lack of manners, and Glorfindel smiled, placing a hand on the older twin's shoulder to show that he was just playing with them. Actually he had only intended to provoke the youngest twin, as he always enjoyed doing.

"You will train only with me during the mornings for a few days, then you will accompany the older ones in the afternoon. You will have to work hard until you are on their level. But I do not think it will take too long."

"I cannot believe it!" Elrohir spun with his weapon again, and like someone who seemed to explode with pleasure, he leaped into the clearing with it now and repeated a series of perfect movements one by one, actions he had learned by just carefully watching the veterans as they trained.

Glorfindel joined in the boy's excitement, disguising his admiration. Actually they could move into the older group whenever they wanted, since they were among the more skilled students he had ever seen and would have no problem adapting to the group. The blonde elf had chosen to give them some time and space just to find out how Elrohir would react. It was his first day of training after the incident with Angahor.

"So. What will be our first task?" Elrohir asked, raising the sword in his hand and turning quickly to deliver another blow. However, in the heat of his enthusiasm, he had not noticed his twin approaching. Elladan instinctively lifted his sword in his own defense. If he had not done it, his brother would have hit him.

Elrohir paled, feeling a distant memory come to darken his thoughts, as soon as the sound of the two swords reached his ears. He gripped the hilt tightly, its weight still being supported by his brother's blade.

Elladan felt his mind following the same path as that of his twin, recalling and reliving all of the pain and anguish caused by the finding of the sword that Elrohir had reforged. He looked up and saw his brother's lips tremble, while his fingers were losing their color, since they were gripping the hilt as tightly as they were.

That's when Elladan realized that there would always be times like this, multiple traps that fate would target, and it would be their decision to avoid them, be around them or, once in them, if necessary, free themselves... Always.

"On guard... warrior," Elladan said then, and Elrohir took a second longer to emerge from his trance. He parted his lips in surprise, but his face was soon peaceful in a different manner. There was no more urgency in his countenance, or agony, or any need.

"On guard… toron-nîn," he then said, with a small smile of thanks, which was soon replaced by a more appropriate mask of challenge. Soon the two brothers were spinning around on the field, giving their master a good demonstration that they would indeed be among the best warriors of Middle-earth, and in less time than Glorfindel had imagined.

THE END

This is the end of the story. I'd like to thanks all these wonderful people who followed me, added my story and left a good comment. Their support helped me to continue. Thanks a lot to: UKClaire, ethuil, Shaka85, melissamed, DreamingIn2Eternity, world-classgeek, Evereven, BrokenForYouSpilledForYou, Sivan Shemesh, LalaithElerrina, SparkyTAS, She Elf of Hidden Lore, Glory Bee, Wtiger5, Lia Whyteleafe, aredellith, driftingpurpose; GreyLynx, sokkergurl, Once. . , Duilin, Messissamed, Metoochocolate, The Pearl Maiden, Elf in a bottle, Raynagh, Pity-be, sbyte, Eliza61, Agie, Viresse, Patty P, HedgehogTheBlue, Faine Webbe, Daisymall13, Pipilo, janelover1, Gwedhiel0117, Marchwriter, Arien Arlorwen, eliza61, elrond peredhel, Oleanne, Myriara, alexiana75 and buubaa.

And my greatest thanks to Puxinette, a wonderful friend and great beta who trusted me and helped me to end this project. It meant a lot to me to be able to translate my story to English. I couldn't do it without her help. Thanks a lot, mellon-nîn.