(I don't own any of these very wonderful characters, though I love them dearly. As you might have guessed they all belong to Tolkien. Or the places…yes, those belong to him too. I'm sure you're tired of hearing that, but I don't want to be rude and not give full credit where it's due )

It was a lovely winter evening in Imladris, and all was peaceful.

Or so Glorfindel thought.

The tall, golden-haired elf was reclining easily in one of the many comfortable chairs that populated the Fire Hall, his deep blue eyes trained on the fireplace before him. The light from the flames flickered across his fair face, so young in appearance yet there was something about him that hinted of the ages he had seen go by. This elven lord had seen much in his years, both happiness and a great deal of sadness and tragedy. He had experienced death first-hand, and had returned. There was more to him than even most elves knew.

At the moment, he appeared to be very relaxed and tranquil. The night was quiet, and he had nothing of importance to be doing. It was one of those rare times when he had no need to worry about anything. For a little while, at least, troubles could wait.

It was impossible to tell by looking at him that he had been outdoors all day navigating the snowy paths that led through the valley and beyond it. His hunt had been unsuccessful, but it hardly made a great deal of difference. Imladris never lacked for anything in the long run.

Tomorrow he would have the twins to deal with again, he thought with a smile. The two were still young, but already they were learning how to shoot and wield a blade. In fact, they had been learning for some time now. Hardly a day went by where they would not be tagging along after Glorfindel and insisting that he come with them down to the archery range. His only respite was when the two were up to some mischief. More often now they would get away with their tricks, and probably in no small part because of Glorfindel's lessons in tracking and hunting. Like little dark-haired shadows they would disappear and slip away before they could be apprehended.

It was amazing, really, the change that had come over Imladris in the last few years. The change had been most recognizable over his longtime friend, Elrond. Becoming a father had certainly changed him, Glorfindel knew, but not for the worse. Ever since Celebrian had come to Imladris, things had been so peaceful and happy. Sometimes Glorfindel wondered how long this could last, with the way Middle Earth was, but he would always quickly dismiss such thoughts. Still, he remembered back to the days of Gondolin, when no one ever thought evil would touch their beloved city...

Glorfindel shook his head, and his gaze traveled over to another elf that was sitting nearby. Also within the warm glow of the fire, a solemn dark-haired elf sat, apparently absorbed in the reading of a large book that was open on his lap. Unlike Glorfindel, who was stretched out comfortably, this elf sat almost stiffly. His slate-grey eyes scanned the words written on one page slowly before moving on to the next with a professional air. He was wearing stately black and grey, a stark contrast from Glorfindel's light blue.

"What are you reading?" Glorfindel asked finally, as they had been sitting like this for some time, and Erestor had yet to speak a word to him.

Erestor looked up sharply, surprised. He blinked as if he hadn't quite understood the question for a moment. He was about to answer when the other elf waved in a dismissive gesture.

"Never mind, I am sure it is wonderful. At least you have the right idea this evening. It is a shame that you spend all your time in the books. I know that you've some skill with a sword. The twins would have more respect for you, if they knew," Glorfindel said. A fleeting smile flashed across his face as he watched his fellow councilor.

"I think that they have a good respect for me as it is," Erestor said dryly. He closed the book and leaned back a little so that he could regard Glorfindel with a calm look. "I am a councilor, a historian perhaps, but I am not a warrior. Besides, I believe Elrond does not want his sons to forego their studies." It had always been a struggle to capture their attention for very long with subjects that they found to be quite dull. Erestor hoped that they would soon develop some love for learning. Sometimes he wondered if they had inherited any of their father's studious nature at all.

Glorfindel shook his head. "They are young, Erestor. We all were at some point. At least, I was, perhaps you weren't. From experience then, I can tell you that they probably won't like books very much until they are a few years older. Just give it time, my friend. You worry too much."

"Perhaps," Erestor said, but he hardly sounded convinced. "Perhaps you are right," He sighed, no longer self-assured, but now resigned. "Speaking of the twins, where are they? I thought they supposed to be coming in here after dark," He glanced around the room, but there was no sign of the two elflings.

"I...," Glorfindel had also given the room a quick search. As he had glanced past one of the windows he caught just the barest glimpse of a familiar pair of grey eyes. He smiled and relaxed back into his chair.

"What?" Erestor asked after Glorfindel volunteered nothing about his knowing smile.

"I'd be careful if I were you," Glorfindel told him. "It seems that your two young students are up to something."

"My young students, indeed," Erestor was visibly more alert to his surroundings now, as if he expected the two of them to pounce on him from behind at any moment. "They are as much yours as mine, if not more so. What mischief are they planning now?" He asked Glorfindel.

The blonde elf shrugged elegantly. "I do not know. You speak as if I had a part in it." He was doing his best to sound nonchalant, but his amusement was all too clear.

"That depends on how one looks at it, doesn't it?" Erestor mused with a half-hearted smile as he rose, putting his book under one arm. He decided that he might as well go ahead and find out what trouble they would be causing now. He had no doubt that it was going to be directed at himself, as Glorfindel was hardly ever the target of Elladan and Elrohir's pranks. They recognized him as a foe equal in dangerousness to Elrond. Erestor, on the other hand, was one of their favorite victims.

"Ah! Well spoken, Erestor, but your suspicion is far misplaced, I'm afraid. I do not encourage them in the least. Really...," Glorfindel shook his head and looked rather affronted. "I did warn you, did I not? If I hadn't, then you would have certainly wandered haplessly into whatever trick they have this time. I wonder sometimes why you usually do...," He paused thoughtfully. "I know. You were never that young, so you never had any experience first-hand with such antics. 'Tis truly a shame."

"I am sure that it is," Erestor replied easily. "If you will excuse me," He nodded and then turned to head out of the Fire Hall, leaving Glorfindel to his own musings.