Inspired by a comment in her story Bliss in Valinor, and kicked back into life by reading her new story Erestor today...
Disclaimer: Tolkien's, not mine. Written for love, not money.
Awkward Questions
"Glorfindel. Has it entirely escaped your notice that you are expected in a council meeting in ten minutes' time?"
Glorfindel of Gondolin and Rivendell, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, Balrog Slayer and, latterly, co-babysitter to the small twin sons of Elrond Half-Elven, looked up from his position sprawled between the aforementioned two Elflings as they pushed toy soldiers into battle formations on the smooth parquet floor of the nursery.
"Ah, Erestor. What's that? Council meeting? Now?"
Erestor sighed, only barely restraining himself from tapping his foot. It was by no means the first time that Glorfindel had become so engrossed in his games with the twins that he had forgotten his more adult responsibilities. Or perhaps it was more that he was pretending to forget, so that he could get out of yet another dull meeting. Erestor was never sure which it was, although he suspected the latter explanation was the truer.
"Yes, Glorfindel. Council meeting. Now. You're expected. You're to give a report on the border patrols, if I remember rightly. Get the twins to whoever you've talked into looking after them, and come with me. And for Eru's sake brush yourself down before you go in. You've got no time to change, and I'm sure there's dust all over you from all that crawling round the floor."
Glorfindel rolled over and sat up, noting ruefully that he did indeed have dust all down his front. So much for the twins' nursery being swept every day.
"What do you mean, whoever I've talked into looking after them?" he enquired, feeling a familiar sensation of dread begin to rise from the pit of his stomach.
"Precisely what I say, mellon-nin," Erestor shot back. "You can't exactly bring them into the council meeting with you, now can you?"
Glorfindel paused to think for a moment. "It looks as though I may have to," he admitted. "I had completely forgotten about the meeting, and I most certainly haven't 'talked anyone into' looking after the twins." He sighed. "I don't suppose Lady Celebrían has returned from Lórien in the last ten minutes, has she?"
Erestor echoed the sigh, adding a long-suffering note all of his own. "No, Lady Celebrían has not returned from Lórien. There are no nursemaids on duty, since you saw fit to dismiss them all when you came to play at battles with the twins this morning, and everyone else who could possibly be looking after them will no doubt also be attending the council meeting."
"Elrond's going to have a fit, isn't he?" Glorfindel murmured, suddenly becoming very interested in the battle being fought before him again.
"With good reason." Erestor's voice was taut with annoyance. He was fond of Glorfindel, he really was, but there were moments when the Elda's tendency to forget everything else but what he was doing at that moment tried his patience to the limit. "Can you imagine how much work would get done at this meeting with two little Elflings prattling away in the corner?"
"They can be quiet. Can't you, boys?" Two identical little heads came up at this, the first attention they had paid to the conversation going on above their heads.
"Can't we what, Uncle Fin?" enquired Elladan.
"You can keep quiet, can't you?"
"I s'pose so. What for?"
"Well. It's like this. How would you two like to come to a proper, grown-up council meeting with me and your Uncle Erestor?"
*****
"I want no part of this," Erestor intoned as impressively as he could while his arms were filled with a bundle of excited Elfling. The twins had been so enthusiastic about the thought of doing something really grown-up that Glorfindel had jokingly suggested that they attend the meeting in his place; a suggestion that Erestor had thoroughly squashed. He had his doubts that the twins could remain quiet, even with their favourite book to keep them occupied in the corner of the room. And as for what Elrond would say...
Glorfindel grinned at him over Elladan's head. "They'll be fine. They've already promised they'll be quiet."
"That's right, we promise!" Elrohir smiled brightly up at Erestor, snuggling that bit closer to him as he was carried along the corridor to the council chamber. "We'll be good, Uncle 'Restor. Don't worry."
Erestor simply sighed.
*****
Elrond had not exactly been pleased when his two friends arrived at the door of the council chamber bearing his sons in their arms, but Glorfindel's profuse apologies and the twins' renewed promises to be good had appeased him slightly and the boys had been settled on cushions in the corner of the room with one of their favourite books, a large volume entitled "Heroic Tales for Elflings". For the first fifteen minutes or so they managed to remember their promises and kept as quiet as mice, although anyone watching would have sworn that they were still carrying on a conversation, though no words were spoken.
Eventually, however, they began to forget that they had promised to be quiet, as children do, and their silent chatter became whispers; whispers became murmurs and the occasional suppressed giggle, and eventually their long-suffering father was forced to halt the discussion about the state of the roads in and around the valley.
"Elladan, Elrohir," he intoned, "have you forgotten your promise?"
Both twins jumped and looked up, identical guilty expressions on their faces.
"Sorry Ada," they chorused, and they looked so crestfallen that Elrond didn't have the heart to order them to be taken back to their nursery and a maid found to look after them. He sighed.
"We were just reading, Ada, and we were wondering about something, but we didn't want to ask you, and..." Elladan trailed off.
Elrond sighed again. "What did you want to know?" He rose from his chair and went to peer over the book. It was open to an illustration of a red-haired Elf chained to a mountainside, with a black-haired Elf approaching on the back of a huge Eagle. Kneeling beside the twins, he braced himself for the inevitable flood of questions.
"We wondered if you knew these Elves, Ada. They must have been very brave," Elrohir almost whispered, though not quietly enough for the rest of the council members not to hear him. Glorfindel and Erestor exchanged a look and went to help Elrond out; the twins might start out with one fairly simple question, but there was never any guarantee that they would stop at one.
"I did not know Fingon personally," Elrond began, pointing to the Elf on the back of the Eagle, "but he was the father of the High King Gil-galad, and also my great-grandfather's brother."
"Stubborn, but also incredibly noble, brave and loyal," Glorfindel added, and the twins turned to look up at him with wide eyes.
"Did you really know him, Uncle Fin?"
"Are you really that old?"
The twins' questions fell over each other and Glorfindel was momentarily stricken dumb; his somewhat unorthodox history had not yet been fully explained to the twins and although they knew he had fought a Balrog, they were not entirely aware of the consequences of his epic battle. Erestor smothered a snigger and stepped into the breach.
"He is indeed that old, give or take a little," he smiled, "and he did indeed know Fingon the Valiant. And your father knew Maedhros Fëanorion quite well, for a time."
"I did indeed," Elrond spoke swiftly, forestalling the flood of questions before it could begin, "for I and my brother lived with him and his brother Maglor for a time. He was a kind host and a fine swordsman, for all that he had only one hand."
"Only one hand? Why?" Elladan was onto that one like a shot.
"Because, in fact, of the story you are reading here," said Elrond, thankful that Elladan had not latched onto the reason for his and Elros' extended stay with the sons of Fëanor; the story was too complicated to explain to Elflings as young as the twins. "Maedhros was captured by Morgoth, and chained to the mountainside by his right arm. When his cousin Fingon came to rescue him, he tried to cut the chains with his sword but found he was unable to do so. Since he could not simply leave Maedhros there to die, he cut off his hand and freed him."
Both twins gasped, their eyes and mouths little round o's of awe.
"Don't even think about it," said Glorfindel quickly, recognising the expression for what it was, having seen it many times before when the twins were impressed enough by something to contemplate doing it themselves. Their faces fell a little, but they looked no less impressed.
"That was very brave," said Elrohir. "Fingon must really have loved Maedhros to rescue him like that."
There was a moment of utter silence. All the adults present were well aware of the rumours surrounding the sons of Fëanor and Fingolfin, and all of them were secretly more or less convinced that they were true. Glorfindel gave a nervous laugh, and Elrond suddenly found that he could look nowhere other than the floor. Only Erestor kept his composure enough to answer Elrohir's completely innocent statement.
"Of course he did," he said. "They were cousins and best friends. Fingon could no more leave Maedhros on that mountainside than you could leave your brother."
"Oh," said Elrohir slowly, obviously thinking this through. "We'd come and rescue you too, Uncle 'Restor, and Uncle 'Fin and Ada, if you needed us to." He looked at his brother, and Elladan nodded emphatically.
Erestor smiled graciously. "Thankyou, pyn-neth. And we would do the same for you."
"Out of the mouths of babes, eh?" Glorfindel muttered under his breath to Elrond while Erestor was distracting the twins' attention.
"Indeed," Elrond murmured back, "and I think it will be some time before we need rescuing by them rather than from them. Next time, you will remember to find them a babysitter."
"I promise, my lord. Now, how about adjourning this insufferably dull meeting so that we can entertain your sons with more heroic tales?" So saying, Glorfindel leaned down and scooped up Elladan, leaving Elrond with no choice but to do as he said, and to wish that he had the heart to decree that the twins would be admitted to no more council meetings until they were of an age to be trusted not to ask awkward questions.