Later that day, Glorfindel bethought him to see if the twins were at weapons practice in the clearing in the lower woods that was used for that purpose.

To his pleasure, the twins were there, surrounded by a small crowd of Imladris folk who had nothing better to do. The arrival of the twins, with their news of events in the outside world, and slightly raffish air, was always a cause of some excitement in the unchanging world of Rivendell.

Estel was amongst them, of course. There was not the slightest doubt that the boy would be there watching his heroes and sometime teachers with glowing eyes.

It seemed that the twins were about to give an exhibition fight, for their hair was tightly braided, and they had stripped to the waist – rather unnecessarily, thought Glorfindel. But the women in the audience seemed to enjoy it.

One of the twins looked up and said,

"Hey, Glorfindel. Just in time. You and Celebdan against me and Elladan. We'll make a tournament of it."

Celebdan was the smith in Imladris at that time, turning his hand to all kinds of metalwork, from farm tools to weapons, to mithril jewellery of work so fine that few could discern its full detail. He was also one of the best swordsmen in Elrond's house, after only the twins and Glorfindel himself.

"It's too soon after lunch for me," Glorfindel started. Then he caught Estel's disappointed glance, and allowed the twins to persuade him. He unfastened his tunic, and pulled off his undershirt. A hum of women's voices arose. Glorfindel was not often seen unclad, and it appeared that some of the women were fully appreciating the sight.

He smiled, with slight embarrassment, in the direction of the women, aware that he was beautiful, tall and slender, with a dancer's lean strength.

Someone tossed him a practice sword, which he snatched out of the air gracefully. Celebdan moved to his side.

The twins started to move, circling their opponents in a complex pattern, so that at any time, Glorfindel was unsure which of the twins he faced, nor from which side an attack would come. He stood lightly on the balls of his feet, for the attack, when it came would be an onslaught of slashing and thrusting blows. In that respect, the twins were quite predictable

But Celebdan was not prepared to wait. With surprising speed for one so brawny, he sidestepped out of the circle the twins were weaving, and made his own attack.

Glorfindel waited a heartbeat, before the expected counter attack came, parried the first thrust, steel sliding over steel, stepped and turned around the side of his attacker – he thought it was Elrohir, before drawing his sword neatly along the bare ribs of his opponent. The blunt blade left nothing but a red welt.

Elrohir let out an exclamation of annoyance, and rubbed his ribs. Glorfindel had moved only two steps, and stood again in the guard position. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Celebdan beating heavily on Elladan's sword, forcing him to parry again and again, trying to tire his opponent with his greater strength.

Elrohir, more cautious now, stood eye to eye with Glorfindel, each trying to judge when the other would move. This time it was Glorfindel, as quick as a cat, leaping into range, slashing down and left, across Elrohir's body, before retreating – but not before Elrohir, parrying, had given him a painful poke in the stomach with the tip of his sword.

"Come back here and fight," called Elrohir, mainly for the benefit of the audience. "You know you can't take the weight of my sword arm for…aargh." Glorfindel had feinted before Elrohir had finished speaking, drawn him to step in, and had neatly swept away his leading foot, before he could strike. Elrohir was now on the ground, Glorfindel's sword at his throat. He grinned up at him.

"It's nice to see you haven't lost your touch, after all this time."

"There are plenty in Lothlorien who were happy to practise with me."

Elladan had finally disarmed Celebdan, although both were marked with a number of painful welts.

There was a murmur of applause from the audience, who began to drift away about their business, now that the entertainment was over.

Elrohir leaped up from the ground,

"Come on. Let's get that whelp over here. It'll do him good to practice against your style."

"Oh, no. Not against Glorfindel. I couldn't," called Estel.

"Get over there," said Elladan, swatting him lightly on the buttocks with his sword.

And so Glorfindel found himself sword tip to sword tip with Estel, while the twins sat on a fallen log, and shouted out instructions to Estel,

"Keep your feet moving,"

"Go on, block to the side, then thrust into the gap."

Estel started cautiously, as if afraid of hurting his teacher, but gradually, his confidence increased.

He was good for one so young, thought Glorfindel, as he circled and parried, occasionally essaying a half-speed attack. The boy was so close, he could smell the scent of his sweat.

"Sweep his leg as he steps in," shouted Elrohir, and Glorfindel kindly let Estel throw him to the ground. He rolled and bounced lithely to his feet.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," cried Estel, his eyes full of concern. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"He let you do it, you young idiot," hooted Elrohir, "You're not yet good enough to throw the finest swordsman in Middle-earth unless he wants you to do it."

Estel looked abashed, and said shyly,

"Are you really the best?" There was hero-worship in his eyes.

"Well, one of the best I suppose," said Glorfindel modestly, liking Estel's expression. "Come here. Let me show you some of the feints and strikes I use."

Estel stood beside Glorfindel, copying his moves. The twins shouted instructions, which soon began to be annoying, as they invariably pointed out different errors to the ones he wanted to correct.

Soon it became apparent to Glorfindel that he would need to correct the boy's stance, and he felt a strange secret pleasure at the thought of the boy's flesh under his hands.

He put his hands on Estel's hips to adjust him to the correct angle. To his surprise, the muscles of his buttocks were surprisingly hard and strong, as little like the elastic muscles of an elf as a dog feels like a cat.

"Turn your wrist to block the downward stroke, or the strength of your arm will fail, and your opponent's sword will follow through, and strike to your neck," Glorfindel was careful to appear business-like, and Estel seemed unaware of the significance of the moment.

At last the afternoon shadows began to lengthen into golden evening, and Estel stopped, chest heaving, and his face running with sweat, and said,

"I am limp as a rag. Don't you ever get tired, Glorfindel?" Glorfindel felt strangely uncomfortable under the boy's frank and open gaze, so he looked away as he said,

"Well, yes, but not so soon. I suppose Men and Elves are different in that way."

Elladan and Elrohir looked up from an intent conversation that had involved drawing complex maps in the earth, and one of them said,

"You've improved, since we last saw you, you young puppy." Estel looked pleased.

The other twin said,

"Come on. It must be nearly dinner time. Let's go and see."

He flung a casual arm around Estel's shoulder, and the three of them strode off. Glorfindel wandered alone under the shadowy trees without noticing where he went, and thought about Estel, and how he had touched him, and wondered if his face had betrayed his thoughts, or his discomfort.