A/N: I got this idea yesterday at lunch, when one of my brothers decided to see if I was ticklish on my ankle. Which I am. Anyways, tell me what you think of this, please!

Table Tales

Two-year-old Estel waved his spoon impatiently in the air. Finally Master Elrond picked up his fork and Estel dove towards his bowl of soup.

'Estel, eat quietly,' Gilraen reprimanded her son when he began to slurp his food.

'Yes, Mama.'

Silence reigned for a few minutes before Estel started. 'Mama, guess what I did today?!'

'What?'

'I rode a horsey with Elrohir!' The child went back to his bowl.

Gilraen spared a glance for the younger twin. 'He did?'

Elrohir nodded apologetically. 'I am sorry, I should have asked you first. He was bored and you were busy with other things. I rode with him.'

Gilraen nodded. 'It is alright. How did you like your ride, Estel?'

'It was fun! Elrohir made the horse go very fast!' Estel waved his spoon in the air again, splattering droplets of soup across the table.

'He what?' Gilraen cried. Again she turned to Elrohir, not nearly so calmly this time. 'You galloped with my baby?'

Elrohir shook his head vigourously. 'No, ma'am. We trotted. To a child Estel's age, I suppose it seemed fast.'

'I see. Estel, stop waving your spoon, you are making the tablecloth dirty.'

Even as she spoke, the spoon flew out of the boy's hand and clattered to the floor under the table. 'I can get it, Mama,' Estel announced. He slid off the chair and crawled under the table.

Retrieving the spoon from where it lay near Elladan's chair, he forced himself between Elladan and Elrond's chairs in order to get out from under the table. 'No, wait,' he muttered to himself. 'Elrohir showed me.'

Gilraen heard this last sentence and glanced nervously from Elrohir to her son, wondering what Elrohir had done with Estel this time.

Elrohir seemed to know, or at any rate, have a guess. 'Estel, no! Not now. Come and sit again.'

It was too late. Estel had slithered by Elladan's legs and was pulling himself over the rungs of Elladan's chair, grunting as the wooden slats dug into his stomach and pressed against his ribs.

Unfortunately, the child did not know that Elladan was violently ticklish on his legs. As he brushed by Elladan, the poor Elf let out a startled, 'Wha-at?'

Estel laughed. He had discovered a new way to drive his oldest brother crazy! Backing out from where he lay over the rungs, he wrapped his small arms around Elladan's lower leg and tickled.

'Estel!' Elladan cried, reaching down with one hand to free himself from the child's grasp.

'Elladan's ticklish!' Estel cried in ecstasy. 'Warriors aren't supposed to be ticklish! Elrohir says that if they are, then they will start to laugh when Orcs tickle them with their swords!'

This time, both Elrond and Gilraen turned accusing glares on Elrohir, who slowly slid down in his seat. 'I will retrieve him from under the table,' he murmured, hoping to placate Gilraen slightly.

Again Estel's young voice piped up from under the table. 'Mama, do Orcs actually tickle people? I thought they were mean!'

A soft cough came from under the table where Elrohir was disappearing. Then he threatened the child, making sure to speak in swift Elvish so that he would not understand. 'Estel, shut up or I swear I will lock you in your closet and lose the key.'

'Repeat that, please, Elrohir?' Elrond asked suavely. 'I am afraid most of us missed what you said.'

Another soft cough. 'It was for Estel's ears, only, Adar.'

'Estel does not understand Elvish well enough for you to speak so quickly,' Elrond protested. 'Say it in Westron and he will figure out what you said.'

'Perhaps I should just say it again when he is fluent enough in Sindarin,' Elrohir suggested. He reached Estel. 'Come here, br-'

'Elrohir?'

Elrohir sighed, coughed softly, and raised his voice. 'Come here, brother.'

However, when Elrohir tried to remove Estel from Elladan, Estel gripped tighter, causing Elladan to try to pull away.

'They are pulling me in two different directions, Mama,' he cried. 'I can feel my legs getting longer.' He proceeded to kick those worthy limbs, managing to catch Elrohir by surprise. The momentum of his kicks caused his hands to slip away from Elladan's leg, and Elladan instantly drew back from Estel's range.

Letting go of Estel's ankles so as to avoid being kicked, Elrohir's head came in sudden contact with the solid walnut tabletop. Pulling Estel with him, he finally managed to get the boy back onto his chair, spoon still firmly clenched between teeth (where it had been placed when Estel tried to slither through the chair).

The meal went on smoothly until everyone's attention was drawn to the Elf carrying in the second course. Everyone's, that is, except Estel's. Seeing his chance, he subtly slipped off his chair and crawled over to Elladan, who was sipping his wine.

With a triumphant yell, he grabbed hold of Elladan's ankle. Though he was wearing boots, the sudden inability to escape – Estel had a strong grip for one his age, and there was limited space under the table even without a boy sitting on the floor – caused Elladan to drop his wine glass where it shattered on the floor, red wine splashing everything in sight.

'Estel!' cried Gilraen, mortified.

'I'm an Orc!' Estel replied, stabbing his fork into Elladan's lightly-protected ankle. 'I'm tickling Elladan!'

Gilraen glared at Elrohir, who was slowly turning red. 'I will have a word with you after dinner,' she threatened menacingly.

The grown-ups suddenly realised that Estel was no longer yelling as he tormented his prey. A curious licking sound came from under the table, and Elrond hesitantly lifted the hem of the tablecloth to see what the child was up to.

'I think I'm bleeding, Mama,' Estel said unconcernedly. 'But I heard Ada tell Elrohir to give an injured warrior some brandy. Brandy and wine are pretty much the same things, so I'll just drink Elladan's-'

'Estel!' Elrond cried. 'You will cut your tongue!'

Again the child was removed from under the table and Elrond inspected a cut on his thumb while Gilraen scolded him roundly.

Elrohir was trying not to laugh, while Elladan looked half-amused, half-worried over the smashed glass on the floor. 'I did not know I was that ticklish!' he finally mused. He glanced at Gilraen, then turned to hiss, 'You are in trouble, Ro.'

'But Mama,' Estel was whining. 'Elrohir was telling me what happens when a troll squishes you too hard!'

Elrond and Gilraen turned simultaneously to face Elrohir, but the younger twin's chair was empty. A slight noise at the other end of the room drew their attention and all four glanced at the end of the long table. Elrohir appeared from under the table and, not looking back, made for the door swiftly.

'Elrohir!'

The Elf shook his head. 'I just remembered something Glorfindel wanted me to do before this evening. Excuse me.'

Estel shrugged his shoulders. 'He was galloping, Mama. And he told me that if trolls squish you too much, your insides come out your ears.'

Gilraen wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but she seemed to hear a soft cough from outside the door.

The End