Disclaimer: All characters and places depicted are the sole property of the JRR Tolkien Estate, my only claim to fame is this small piece of fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: This my first story, so any replies would be great, good or bad, i'm open to advice, Cheers

"Sometimes all we can do is wait"

As the sun rose over the valley of Imladris, all life within it rose to smile and delve in its warmth.

The peace and happiness of the valley, however, did not reach the heart of its Lord and protector. Lord Elrond had lived many millennia on Arda, seen and fought many wars and battles, and yet nothing caused him more fear and worry then when his children were involved.

Today was the third day of Estel's first real hunting trip near the northern borders of the elf-haven. The eleven year old Dúnedain had begged his foster father for weeks to take this trip with his older brother's, Elladan and Elrohir. The twins did not protest Estel's requests, preferring to sit back and allow their poor, innocent father to be tormented constantly by the young man. Apparently he had raised two sons who enjoy watching their father slowly and painfully losing his mind.

At this thought, however, Elrond could only smile and lightly shake his head. Estel could be as stubborn as the come and like a dog reaching for a bone just out of his reach, would stop at no end to reach his goal.

Whilst Elrond trusted his twin sons implicitly, he knew full well that when that trio were left to their own devices, trouble and chaos were soon to follow. His blood sons on their own were bad enough, but add a bored and naturally mischievous eleven year old edain into the mix, and they could give Morgoth a run for his money in sheer destructive power.

Sighing, the elf-lord resigned himself to having to wait for the trio's return, and then assess the damage. 'Oh well, at least the healing house were fully stock and empty' thought Elrond, chuckling. He turned back to his desk and the mass of paperwork that had chosen to reside there.

"Where's Erestor when you need him, he loves paperwork!" muttered Elrond, "He knows I despise this work"

As he sat down and began shuffling through and signing off on the mounds of orders, supply requests and general responses from the various people of Imladris, Elrond began to mutter darkly about certain blond haired elves and paperwork the reproduced when no-one was looking