Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings or any of its characters. This is all for my own amusement.

An Afternoon With The Kids

Glorfindel strolled jauntily down the corridor. It was, as it often was, an absolutely beautiful day in Rivendell. Glorfindel was headed in the direction of Lord Elrond’s study, for reasons that are irrelevant to the purpose of this tale.

As he approached, he heard the Voice of Elrond. Regrettably, today it was the Aggravated Voice of Elrond.

“Elladan, Elrohir, I would greatly appreciate if you would both desist.”

Glorfindel stopped in the doorway and chuckled. Elrond was sat at his desk with a quill in his hand, attempting to work. He had one son hanging onto the sleeve of his robe, and another on his back. Elrond looked rather infuriated. The twins seemed quite content.

“Ada, what are you writing?” asked the twin on Elrond’s back, peering over his sire’s shoulder.

“A request for your immediate fostering in Lórien,” Elrond quipped in reply.

Glorfindel laughed aloud, which only served to draw Elrond’s ire towards him.

Before Elrond could comment, the twin on his sleeve had managed to clamber into his lap, and was making quite a mess on his parchment with the pot of ink.

“Elladan!”

The twin looked up angelically. “Yes, ada?”

Elrond picked the older twin off of his lap and deposited him on the floor. This, of course, left the space open for Elrohir, who had clearly tired of hanging from his father’s neck. The child let go and immediately leapt into Elrond’s lap.

“Ada, tell me a story,” Elrohir requested, taking a firm hold of his father’s arm.

Elrond resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Where is your mother?” he asked the son on his lap.

“Riding,” Elladan answered from the other side of the room.

Elrond turned, and would have had a heart attack had he not chosen the immortality – and durability – of the Eldar. Elladan had managed to clamber up on top of the bookshelf. “Elladan, please get down from there.”

Luckily for Elrond, Glorfindel saw fit to intervene. He retrieved the elder son with little difficulty.

“Ada, what does this say?” Elrohir asked, pointing at a piece of parchment on the desk.

Elrond turned to look, and was about to read aloud when:

“Ada, what is this book about?” Elladan asked, pulling a book out from the bottom shelf.

Elrond looked over at Elladan. Glorfindel attempted to look inconspicuous.

“But ada, what does it saaaay!” Elrohir repeated loudly, while squirming in Elrond’s lap.

Elrond turned back to the younger twin, feeling rather dizzy.

“Adaaaa! The book!” whined Elladan, as he dragged the book over to his father.

Glorfindel chuckled quietly. The book was half as large as the little boy and extremely thick.

A flustered Elrond was busy trying to extract his quill from Elrohir’s grasp. Elrohir was busy trying to prevent him. Elladan had planted himself at Elrond’s feet and was flicking through the huge book at random.

“Elladan, you cannot read,” Elrohir taunted.

Elladan looked up and stuck his tongue out. “Neither can you!”

“So!”

“Boys...” groaned Elrond the Stern.

“Sorry, ada,” Elladan mumbled.

“Sorry, ada,” Elrohir said. He decided that he was bored with the quill now and surrendered it to his father.

“Thank you, Elrohir. Now, don’t you two have anything better to do?” Elrond enquired, trying desperately to retrieve that elusive air of ‘serene wisdom’ he was famed for.

“But why, when they could spend a perfectly fine afternoon with their dear father?” Glorfindel said, much to Elrond’s (clearly evident) annoyance.

“Glorfindel,” Elrond growled. Glorfindel backed away.

Sensing that his father was getting annoyed, Elrohir stood up and threw his hands around his Elrond’s neck. “Love you, ada.”

Elrond softened, his scowl disappearing as he found his cheek on the receiving end of Elrohir’s kisses.

“And I!” cried Elladan, not wanting to be left out.

In moments, Elrond had been made into a twin sandwich. “I love you both, my children. But I have work to do.”

Elladan pulled back. “But ada, can’t we help you?”

“Pleeeease,” pleaded Elrohir. He and his brother were standing on the floor, each pulling on Elrond’s arms.

Elrond sighed.

--

Celebrían settled down next to her husband in their bed that night. “Elladan and Elrohir are asleep. They were especially tired out.”

Elrond raised his eyebrows.

“They did not get in your way today, I trust?” she asked, smiling at her husband.

He blinked. “Of course not.”

“I knew they would not. They are good boys,” she said, smoothing out her long hair. “Although they can be a little boisterous at times.”

Elrond bit back a laugh.

--

Not all of the inhabitants of the House of Elrond were preparing to sleep. Glorfindel was grumbling. “I hate tidying up,” he muttered, as he picked up several pieces of scattered parchment from the floor of Elrond’s study.

Erestor was perched on Elrond’s desk, smiling that triumphant smile of his. “That will teach you to do nothing when Elrond is under attack.”

Glorfindel grumbled some more and continued to tidy up.