Basically revising this. oo; I hope people will enjoy it more now that I have better concepts of grammar and such. If anyone would like to beta me, please drop me an email. I've discovered my proofreading skills leave something to be desired.

The Perfect Prank

Chapter One

The moon hung above the Elven haven, and most of Imladris was asleep, uneasily most likely, but still sleeping. It had been the day of the council, and Middle-earth's fate was so uncertain at the present, that even the Elves, whom were destined for Valinor, were concerned. Yet one was still awake, walking upon an elegantly carved bridge, raven hair blowing slightly in the light breeze. Arwen Undómiel smiled, stormy-grey eyes drifting up to the stars, a content expression on her face.

"It seems the night is still one of the only things that brings happiness to my sister's face, nay?" A voice brought her out of her thoughts, and Arwen turned to see Elrohir, an eyebrow raised in slight concern.

"I suppose," she sighed, hands resting limply at her sides. "Then again, the world is not bursting with joy lately, I find it hard to keep my heart away from the worry that plagues it so." Elrohir nodded, coming to stand beside her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I too long for the days when everything was so simple, and we had so much ignorance. The days seem too bleak now. And yet I do not have as many worries as you, little sister. Estel shan't fail. He has enough courage and strength to defeat this shadow. I wish you'd see that." He side glanced her. Arwen nodded, looking down into the starlit water below.

"I do not doubt him," she said after a long while. "I only wish that ada would understand."

"I think that he does understand, which makes it so painful for him. He knows this is your choice, and he cannot reverse it. Ada isn't angry, Arwen. He's concerned. Concerned that you'll regret it after everything you gained has been diminished. He loves you, and he loves Estel as well, which makes it even harder." He smiled sadly, looking down at her.

"I also think father counted on a more... graceful and clean son-in-law." Elrohir grinned, followed by one on Arwen's face.

"Oh, give him more credit, Elrohir. I've heard the stories of how he was somewhat clumsy-" she paused, biting back a giggle, "-as a child. He is certainly not that."

The dark-haired son of Elrond rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Indeed. Now he's a scruffy looking Ranger, who rescues ring-bearing Halflings and hardly ever bathes, unless he's trying to impress you, when he turns into a well cultured, neatly groomed heir to the throne of Gondor and Arnor." He ignored the glare he was receiving, all but skipping off the bridge. "And as for what you call 'clumsiness', you've heard nothing. Oh, the stories I have!" Arwen looked at him questioningly, before running after, tugging on the sleeve of his tunic when catching up.

"What do you mean? You've been hiding some tale from his past?" Elrohir grinned, turning around abruptly.

"Well, he'll kill me if he ever finds out I told you this. But here goes. It all started with…"

"Elladan! Give it back! Ada said it's mine. You have your own sword!" The young human was on the verge of tears, staring up at his eldest foster-brother with a pout. Elrohir stood to the side, for once not saying a word. He had come up with this plan of pure magnificence, and it was his twin's job to 'persuade' Estel to help them.

In all the years that the twins had terrorized Rivendell with their pranks, the two had always had their roles. Elrohir usually came up with the master plans, although went into it far too cocky, where Elladan stepped in. The older brother was far more sensible, the one who always got them away before anyone could catch them red handed. The two were a horrifying pair.

Yet ever since Arwen left for Lórien, they had no younger sibling to teach the art of pranks to. In any case, their sister no longer fell for cheap bribes and blackmailing, and could pull a pretty good prank herself when she wanted to. But now that they had Estel, the little boy that had been delivered to their home some eight years ago, the fun could begin all over again, and another monster could be created.

The Peredhel shook his head, holding the small blade high with an emotionless expression on his ageless face.

"I really ought to give it back, I suppose." He bit back a laugh at the way boy's face lit up when he heard that. "If you do what we ask of you, just a few small favors which could do no harm. What do you say, little brother? I'll give you back your sword, if you promise to do what we say." Estel glanced up at him warily, though grey eyes quickly landed on the sword once more, and he came to the decision that whatever they wanted him to do, would be a small price to pay to get his weapon back.

With a small, over-dramatized sigh, he nodded slowly, missing the glint that shone in the twin's eyes. Their plan was running smoother than a stream.

"Well, I suppose. But I don't see what could be so important that you will withhold my sword from me. What is it you need?" At that point, Elrohir stepped out from the shadows, startling Estel slightly.

"Nothing much, dearest little brother. Simply some help. You see, the Lord from Lothlórien, our grandfather, is visiting in a few short days with the Wood's guardians: three brothers that are ridiculously gullible. Trust me, you're going to get all the respect you deserve if you can pull this off." He smirked his rather evil, and very mischievous trademark smirk, bending down to be at height with the boy.

"And if you tell anyone, Estel, I'll be forced to throw your little sword into the Bruinen forever more. Is that clear?" The boy nodded quickly, grabbing his beloved object from Elladan, before sprinting down the call. The elder twin shook his head.

"Aren't you being a little cruel? I'm certainly all for this, but Elbereth, Elrohir, you know how much he loves that sword." Elrohir shrugged indignantly, patting his brother on the shoulder.

"Exactly. Remember how it worked on Arwen? It will work perfectly with Estel as well, and I will not have him ruin my scheme. Decipher my motives in whichever way you want, Elladan, but know that we are going to make quite the impression on this fair city." With a casual laugh, Elrohir went down the hall, cocky as ever. Elladan shook his head, slowly following.

"Ah brother, how I wish that this would be as easy as you think."

The next day, Elrond's sons were gathered in the Hall of Fire, the older two corrupting the poor boy's head, telling him all about Haldir's, Orophin's, and Rúmil's 'weaknesses', as Elrohir put it.

"First off, Haldir hates the water. He nearly broke my nose the one time I poured a bucket of water on him, which got father yelling, grandfather yelling, grandmother yelling, and Haldir yelling the loudest," Elladan said, shaking his head. Elrohir quirked up an eyebrow.

"Elladan, he pushed you into the Nimrodel, tried to drown you, and then punched you, whereat your nose was nearly broken. The whole thing was quite hysterical. We should have known better than to let Haldir's temper rear it's ugly head."

The two continued to discuss the issue, Elladan trying to defend his pride, and Elrohir purposely trying to irritate him further. Estel looked on with an incredulous look, wondering how such immature beings could act so mature at times, when the need arose. After a few moments, they turned back to him, continuing.

"Rúmil is madly in love with our sis-" Elladan received a hearty jab from his twin's elbow, silencing from going any further. Elrond had forbidden everyone from ever mentioning Arwen to Estel, for reason he wouldn't share. The eldest brother shook his head, continuing.

"Anyway," he continued, exceptionally loud, "He's rather odd, always writing poetry and such, songs and tales. And Orophin is probably the most normal, usually breaking up Haldir and Rúmil's fights. They're all quite insane, really." The boy had a blank stare.

"Yes, you said that, but what does all of this have to do with me?"

"You're very hasty, you know," Elrohir replied, raising a dark eyebrow. "They've never met you, you see, therefore they won't suspect that you're going to pull pranks on them. Haldir won't, at least. He's the one we want to get back at."

Estel tilted his head slightly in a questioning manner. "Why?"

"Well," Elladan began, "he said that the Elves here are ridiculously absorbed in their appearance… horridly vain were the words he used. He informed us that he'd rather have tea with Balrog than spend more time than necessary in Imladris. The only reason he'd come, he said, is because his Lord needed him to accompany him. The he said that he got to the position of March Warden by hard work, and not because his father was the lord of his realm. We've never really gotten along." The boy looked up, confused.

"Well you must've said something to provoke that."

The twins looked at him. Elrohir then began to speak: "Maybe. We said something along the lines of-" This time, it was Elrohir who received the jab in the side, which quickly shut him up. Elladan continued.

"We said nothing at all. He's just a horrid excuse for an Elf." Elrohir shook his head, standing up.

"Do you understand all we taught you?" Estel nodded. "Good. Now, here's the plan..."