3. At the Campfire - by Gandalfs apprentice
"He turned the whole valley upside down," Elladan said. "There was the climbing stage."
"Up on the roof every day," Elrohir said. "Gilraen would rant and wail and beg him to come down. Very disobedient child."
Elladan said, "Then he fell. Broke an arm. That slowed him down a bit."
"Not much," Elrohir said. "Erestor might have some rose bushes left if that were so."
"Rose bushes?" Halbarad asked, raising his eyebrows at Aragorn.
Aragorn shrugged. "I'm not saying a word."
"Yes, rose bushes," Elladan said. "He attacked the garden with his wooden training sword, and whacked the roses to pieces. Our father said, 'Estel, why?'--a question many asked, many times, over these turbulent years, may I say--'why the roses, Erestor's pride and joy?'"
"I can't begin to guess," Halbarad said.
"The lilies and irises were too flimsy, and the trees too big, he tells us solemnly," Elrohir said, rolling his eyes. "A good workout means sparring with an opponent of equal skill."
Halbarad choked.
"Then he stole Glorfindel's horse."
"And lived to tell the tale," Elladan said. "Although I nearly didn't."
"There was the pretend training, of course, where Estel killed our brother."
"Fortunately, I was revived," Elrohir said. "Good thing, too, because I would have missed the next few years, and they were not to be missed."
"But the best part--"
Aragorn said, "You can stop now."
"--the best part was when his whiskers began to grow in," said Elladan, sliding across the ground away from his foster brother, whose brows closed in a glower.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.
