Since Tolkien never stated anything about Elladan or Elrohir journeying to Loríen as a visit and not for safety or "military" matters, I decided to plan the trip for them. Remember, these are all Tolkien's characters.
Year 257 of the Third Age
Arwen gave a tiny sigh. Her brothers were journeying to Loríen again. She had never been there herself, and according to her brothers' accounts of Loríen, it was something she did not want to miss. However, her parents would always utter the same polite refusals to her frequent pleas of Ada, (or Naneth,) will you take me to Loríen? But now, Elladan and Elrohir were journeying to Loríen for the fifth time in their lives, which she thought was simply unfair. Well, not that her brothers had been to Loríen when they were her age; they had taken their trips very recently. Ever since they had come back from the first time and expounded to her beautiful tales of everything there, Arwen had begun counting off the years until she would be able to go visit her grandparents' land herself. Then she recalled the times when she and her parents welcomed the twins home, along with Glorfindel. Upon recalling these memories, Arwen started devising plans of how she would welcome Elladan and Elrohir when they came home this time. She was not even aware of their farewells to her before they left.
What do they enjoy most? was the question that occupied her mind day and night. Never had Arwen been so full of thoughts, ideas, and plans. When Celebrían or Elrond questioned her, it was her turn to deny them answers. She was so absorbed in her thinking that she had already bumped into Erestor, her beloved Ada's advisor, twice, and several times into other elves too. With a quick apology she would hurry off to escape being questioned, something that had become tedious in a short while. Arwen counted the possibilities. She could have had easily asked either of her parents and heard all she wanted about her brothers' interests and hobbies. But this was something she preferred to do alone.
They were interested in swords and that kind of thing, but she clearly could not make a new sword and a bow and arrows for them, she mused. Glorfindel had once told her that Elladan specialized with the sword while Elrohir with the bow. Arwen stored that piece of information proudly in her head until it could be of use, which clearly was not right now. She immediately thought up of something, but just as quickly dismissed it. What kind of book could she possibly write that contained information the twins would not know already? Suddenly, Arwen gave a loud squeal of joy. Why did I not think of it before? she asked herself. Of course! She could make something edible and good, something that she would be proud to present on the day of her brothers' return. The problem was, she had no clue what to make. She did not want to ask Cook, even though she trusted him. No, this treat must be made by her, and by her alone. The youngest offspring of Elrond felt frustrated. Couldn't anything be done without a problem? Apparently not, she answered herself with a tiny frown. Finally, she gave in, going against her pride.
"Naneth, how do you make a pie?"
"Celebrían looked up from her book and smiled to herself. So this was the cause of her daughter's "meditation". But why would making a pie require that much thinking? Arwen had been battling with her pride, that much was obvious. She decided to drop the subject, so she answered in a patient tone, "What kind of pie?", which immediately flustered Arwen, since she did not know there could be more than one kind of pie. That was because Cook only made one kind. No, she thought, it was only because I refused to try the rest, despite everyone's pleas. Then she remembered the flowers Elrohir had told her about in Loríen…the golden flowers…
"Elanor pie?" she said tentatively. "Or niphre—niphre—" she stuttered over the name of the other flower. Not that she knew flowers were not edible.
Celebrían repressed a laugh, not wanting to hurt her daughter's feelings. "You cannot make a pie out of elanors, nor can you with niphredils, sweetheart. But you can make them with strawberries or—"
"Apples!" Arwen cut in gleefully. "Thank you, Naneth!"
The wife of Elrond smiled despite herself. Arwen ran out, but when she got to the doorway she stopped and turned back. "Oh, Naneth, when are Elladan and Elrohir coming back?"
Celebrían thought for a short while, then said, "On the second day of firith, or as we would say in Quenya, quellë."
"Firith, quellë…on the second day of—of—"
"Of fading, according to the Calendar of Imladris. It is a 'season'."
"I thought you said they were only visiting for a fortnight?" Arwen protested indignantly.
"Well, it takes a long time to get there; they would be lucky if they got there in several days."
"Oh," she said sadly. But finally registering what her mother had said before, Arwen asked, "What is a 'season'?", which indicated that she had immediately forgotten about her pie and transformed into the interested pupil that she was.
Celebrían did laugh this time. "Well," she said, "there is loa and changes with the vegetation. The Calendar of Imladris divides these changes into 'seasons'. There are six: spring, summer, autumn, fading, winter, and stirring. In the Sindarin tongue they are ethuil, laer, iavas, firith, rhîw…"
Life in Imladris was dull without Elladan's, Elrohir's, and Glorfindel's presence. Erestor was often too busy to entertain Arwen, and her parents, being lord and lady of Imladris, were no better off than anyone else was. So she lingered in the kitchen, observing Cook keenly when he was preparing meals. True, she still had her lessons, but it had all become a confusing muddle of facts, especially when three of the elves she depended on the most were gone, not able to clarify for her what she did not understand. True, she did have a lot of objects to amuse herself with, but what was the point of it without her three idolized companions? Finally, the elleth was once again lost in her own thoughts, memories of the times when she, Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel were together planning their next adventure…
That night, in the privacy of their own chambers, Elrond suspected something mischievous had been planned, and it involved his wife again. It had to do with the way Celebrían kept having a dreamy look about her, and how she would suddenly smile. What was she thinking about?
"Celebrían, what have you done this time?" Elrond asked, focusing both of his gray eyes on her.
She only grinned and mumbled "Nothing, meleth-nin", her own eyes half-unfocused.
Elrond lay on his side, thinking. There could not possibly be anyone else in Imladris who would induce his wife to aid him or her in some kind of mischief. His sons and his sworn protector were at Lothloríen—the three masters of mischief, so who else could there be? Erestor? He doubted it. Erestor had always been the serious type, but he got involved with a little mischief now and then. However, he never started pranks first. So it most likely would not be him. Arwen…he thought, but hastily ended that thought with…is too innocent. It was true. Arwen would not plan any mischief. It was his sons and Glorfindel who thought of something almost everyday. Who could it be? was Elrond's last thought as he drifted off to sleep himself.
The day was almost here! Arwen could barely sleep from excitement that night. However, she must sleep, if she was to wake up in time for what she must do tomorrow morning. She had already gathered the ingredients needed to make a pie, and surely she would succeed under Cook's experienced, watchful eye. A small barrel of apples, and some other ingredients…she smiled as she fell asleep. Today had been a hard day, after all.
Arwen awakened right after dawn, just when the first few early birds twittered merrily. She met Cook in the kitchen, and she donned a pinafore, then looked up at the elf with an excited expression on her face. She began her work, occasionally being corrected by Cook as she made the pie…or at least the apple pie. When Arwen told the older elf about the second pie, he laughed heartily but looked rather reluctant right after. After a lot of convincing, he finally acquiesced.
When Elrond and Celebrían made their way to the breakfast table, Arwen intercepted them halfway and urged them elatedly to follow her to the kitchen instead. As her parents looked at the pies with wonder as Arwen explained to them how she had made them with Master Chef's assistance. Then she tugged on each of their hands to follow her to the pies. As soon as they got there she wafted the faint, lingering scent of the pies to their faces. However, it seemed strange to Elrond when his daughter pulled her mother and said softly, "Naneth, do you think this one seems particular?" as she bade her mother to smell the smaller one of the two pies. Elrond looked on as his wife smiled exactly the same way she had so many nights before. He saw his daughter give Celebrían the smallest of winks. He wondered. As for Arwen, she dismissed the idea of a surprise, because three people, excluding herself, now knew about the pies. Maybe, she thought, it can be a surprise when I am older and will not need so much help. But, she trusted these elves. They would not ruin the surprise. It was hers to give.
"What was that about?" questioned a bewildered Elrond.
"You will see," was the laconic reply of his wife.
Elrond did see. As Glorfindel and his two responsibilities arrived shortly after breakfast, the whole of Imladris went out to greet them, with the Lord and Lady leading. The twins jumped off their horses and embraced their parents, then looked around, spinning in complete circles. Neither were they alone in their surprise. Glorfindel looked slightly puzzled.
"Where is Arwen?" chorused three voices.
As if on cue, she appeared, carrying a pie in her small hands. Cook trailed behind her, carrying a smaller pie. She handed the apple pie to her oldest brother, who beamed and swept her up, pie and all, in his arms. He kissed Arwen all over her face until she giggled and tears came to her face. Then, she jumped down, took the second pie, but before handing it over she encouraged them to try the first pie, the apple—
"No!" she screamed tearfully. "No, you—you—" as she pointed somewhere behind Glorfindel.
Glorfindel looked behind him in surprise. There stood his horse, bending down, eating something that looked like—
"Arwen's apple pie!" exclaimed Elrohir, a strange look on his face.
Elladan leapt forward and rescued what was left of it. He was about to dig in, when he suddenly felt two pairs of strong hands seize him. He looked around and saw his twin and Glorfindel grinning at him.
"It is ours, too," Glorfindel said, in an fruitless attempt to be sweet.
"Arwen gave it to me," Elladan protested. "Am I not right, Arwen?"
She smiled and shook her head despite the tears and said "Share with—Elrohir and—Glorfindel too."
After finishing his portion and handing the rest of the pie to Elrohir, Elladan took the second pie and took a bite out of that. No sooner had he swallowed the bite when he pulled a comical face, making everyone laugh. Arwen exchanged a wink with her mother. Elladan made an exaggerated gagging sound.
"What is this?"
"Remember when you told me about the elanor and niphredil flowers in Loríen?"
Elladan said he did not recall telling her that. Elrohir, who was dancing out of Glorfindel's reach, answered in the affirmative and said, "What about them, dearest?" Everyone else was watching the siblings curiously.
"Well, since there were neither of those in Imladris, I took some other flowers here and made a pie from them."
The poor firstborn of Elrond looked dumbfounded while the rest howled (some were laughing so hard they were clutching their ribs) and clapped their hands in appreciation, including Elrond.
Elrohir laughed and hugged his sister tightly. "Arwen, you dear little thing, we appreciate you doing this for us, and I am glad you managed to fool Elladan, but really, you need not do all that for us. When did you make the pies?
"I got up at dawn this morning to make them," said Arwen proudly.
"Ai, Arwen, darling sister, you did not have to. Love is the best gift of all."
And hand in hand, they walked into the hall where Elrohir proceeded to tell Arwen his most recent adventure. His final words outside lingered in the wind around them: Love is the best gift of all.
Notes: I got the age and seasons information from Appendix D, ROTK:
"It seems clear that the Eldar in Middle-earth, who had, as Samwise remarked, more time at their disposal, reckoned in long periods, and the Quenya word yén, often translated 'year', really means 144 of our years."
So, in this story, Arwen is only about six years old in human years, and the twins are fifty.
However, since a yén is 144 of our years, it doesn't necessarily mean that an elf is 144 years old to equal a one-year-old human baby.
And the seasons:
"In Middle-earth the Eldar also observed a short period or solar year, called a coranar or 'sun-round' when considered more or less astronomically, but usually called loa 'growth' (especially in the north-western lands) when the seasonal changes in vegetation were primarily considered, as usual with Elves generally. The loa was broken up into periods that might be regarded either as long months or short seasons. These no doubt varied in different regions; but the Hobbits only provide information concerning the Calendar of Imladris: In that calendar there were six 'seasons', of which the Quenya names were tuilë, lairë, yávië, quellë, hrívë, coirë, which may be translated 'spring, summer, autumn, fading, winter, stirring'. The Sindarin names were ethuil, laer, iavas, firith, rhîw, echuir. 'Fading' was also called lasse-lanta 'leaf fall', or in Sindarin narbeleth 'sun-waning'.