Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, ideas or anything else from Lord of the Rings. I do however lay claim on Elrond's twin daughters as Tolkien never wrote about any twin elven girls anywhere in his books. Everything else though, as much as I wish it, is not mine and belongs to the Estate of J.R.R. Tolkien (a wonderful, wonderful man). Except for a 2-year-old toddler by the name of Estel (forever called tithen min by his siblings) who needs looking after.
~~~~OOOOO~~~~
Sweet Eru, how had he been so certain his youngest was the quiet and peaceful one? In ten years she had never let on that she'd be the first to try to ride Glorfindel's warhorse. He'd have pegged Andúnë for that. In fact, when Elladan was that age he would have bet the child would have tried that stunt. But none of his other children ever had.
And yet here was his youngest, standing sullenly in the center of his study, eyes downcast, covered in dirt and mud from her tumble off a horse that was too big and powerful for her even if she had been grown.
Elrond sighed, trying to calm himself back to a state where he knew he could speak without yelling. He opened his mouth to say something, and caught his voice just in time before he let out an exclamation over her stupidity. Yelling would not help matters.
"Why?" he settled on the simplest question.
She didn't look at him, but when she spoke her voice trembled and he was struck instantly by the thought that she was afraid of him; afraid of what he might do.
"I am sorry Ada. I know that it was a stupid thing to do, and I did not think it through, and for that I have only myself to blame." She paused in thought for a moment. "I will go to my room now; you do not have to heal my wrist. I deserved it." And without waiting for an answer she started for the study door.
He might be angry but she had obviously learned her lesson from the fall, and would not be riding warhorses anytime soon; he felt no reason to physically punish her, certainly he had never done it to her before. It was apparent, however, that she had obviously learned from her sister what happened when father got really angry. Spankings were never an easy punishment to take. He wondered if he should give her one just to make sure she never did anything so ludicrous again, but thought better of it. She was terrified of him now, physical punishment might be more than she could take. And no doubt her sprained wrist was giving her pain enough.
He was out of his chair and across the room before she could even react. Just as quickly he swept her up into his arms and held her as she released her held back tears.
"I am not so terribly angry with you Arómenë. I believe you have learned your lesson, and gained wisdom because of it. Unfortunately, it is usually through experience we learn the best. And I would never, never be so angry as to not treat an injury, child. That is something you must learn if you wish to be a healer. Now come, and let me take a look at that wrist. You are in pain, I see it. Did you hurt anything else in your fall?"
He carried her the rest of the way towards the door and slipped across the hall to the healing room, setting her gently down on the table.
She sniffled, whipping her tears away with the already dirty sleeve of her shirt. "No Ada, just a few scrapes, but they're not bad."
He looked at her appraisingly for a moment. "Lets get these clothes off. And after I am done, you can have a nice hot bath and get clean before supper." He was already undoing the buttons of her shirt.
She smiled up at him and pushed his hands away, undoing the rest of them herself; showing her father quite clearly she was old enough to undress herself, even with a sprained wrist. He stepped back and let her.
He took a sheet down from one of the shelves and wrapped it around her bare shoulders. She slipped off the high table, landing softly on the ground and proceeded to struggled out of the tight riding pants she wore, finally sitting down to unlace her boots and slipped them off with the pants. She pulled the sheet tightly around her and turned to climb back up. She was a good foot too short to manage it.
Elrond was still watching her as she turned and looked at him, obviously waiting for him to help her up. He grinned at her and she smiled back as he lifted her easily onto the table.
He took her wrist first, and gently examined it. "Just a mild sprain; you will be back running around with the other children tomorrow. But try to stay off the warhorses from now on?" She nodded at him, biting her lip to keep from grinning.
He decided better than to take her word for her lack of other injuries and instead pushed her gently down to lie on the table as he examined the rest of her. Her "not bad scrapes" turned out to be a skinned knee that was still oozing blood and a scraped elbow as well. He shook his head and chuckled to himself.
Going over to the shelves along the far wall, he took down a bottle of ointment and bandages. He deposited them on the table beside his daughter and set about filling a bowl with water from a nearby carafe. He bathed the scraped knee and elbow, cleaning the dirt from the wounds and then smothered them in cooling ointment that smelled strongly of peppermint, his daughter's favorite scent. He bandaged her knee, leaving the elbow wound free to heal in the open air.
She winced slightly as he took her wrist again and tenderly wrapped it tightly with bandages to keep her from bending it excessively. And because she was only a ten-year-old elfling who had just fallen off a warhorse, he tied a sling across her shoulder that would hopefully prevent her from bashing her arm against something else, and also remind her that she was injured. Maybe he should confine her to bed for the rest of the day, if only to keep her from getting any additional injuries.
Once he was done he wrapped the sheet around her once more and picking her up, carried her slowly back to her room. There he helped her clean the dirt from her skin without getting her bandages wet, and then got her into a clean nightgown.
Ignoring her protests on the matter he pushed her towards the bed, promising that if she stayed quiet and rested until dinner she could come to the Hall of Fire for songs and stories afterward.
Arómenë decided this wasn't a bad deal, considering she had expected when she had been pushed by Glorfindel into her father's study an hour before to be thrown into the dungeons. Although the rational part of her mind had told her there weren't any dungeons in Imladris.
"Thank you Ada," his youngest said to him as he tucked her in.
"You are welcome iell nin, but please, no more horses for a few years yet?" She nodded, smiling. "Alright, please try to rest," and he kissed her forehead softly before leaving.
~~~~OOOOO~~~~
She shouldn't be doing this. She knew that. But it was going to be so much fun, and it wasn't like it was dangerous or anything. Just a small little joke on her father's advisor. Erestor would probably see the humor in it later. She hoped.
She had donned breeches and a shirt for her late night game; covering both with a dark cape so as to avoid any eyes that might discover her. She hadn't told her sister about her little "idea" of how to cheer up the dower advisor, who seemed to have been in an even worse mood than normal lately. Bad enough that even her father had made a joke at the elf's expense the other day.
The elfling grinned to herself as she crept along the garden wall towards the advisor's room.
She paused just below the window to the right room, noticing quickly that there was no light coming from inside. For although Erestor was known to keep late hours, the night was waning towards sunrise and no one was either still up or had risen yet.
She jumped in one smooth motion, catching the vine above her in one hand and reaching out towards the windowsill with the other. In one burst of fabled elven strength she used her arms to propel her up and pulled herself over the sill; dropping silently into the room beyond.
Indeed Erestor was very much asleep, but he was an elf, and they slept lightly and with both ears and eyes still very much aware of their surroundings. She would have to stay to the deepest shadows so as not to be seen, and hope he did not sense her presence.
She thought her plan most brilliant, but then she was only a twelve-year-old elfling, and although not exceptionally young to the race of men, and indeed not even considered childish in mind to the elves, she was nonetheless still thinking very much like a young child. Which was why the thought of putting fresh flowers around the room and scenting Erestor's soaps and carafe of water was her brilliant scheme. That and depositing a well written letter in a strategic spot right in front of the door to make it seem as if it had been slipped underneath overnight. The letter was written in her own perfect flowing script, and the paper was scented with lilac and rose and in the bottom corner was a distinctive shaped of female lips outlined in colour. Her own.
She smiled even wider and had to choke back a laugh as she set the envelope down. The grumpy advisor never did pay much attention to the female elves, but she though he just needed a little incentive. It was unsigned of course, but hopefully that would just make him believe it even more.
She'd keep it up, depending on his reaction. If false love letters from some unknown elven maiden cheered him up, she was willing to be the one to write them.
Turning once more around the room to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, she paused to observe the slumbering elf for a moment. No, he was still very much asleep.
With a suppressed giggle she slipped back out the window the way she had come. She didn't discover until later that morning that Erestor had awoken just as she left, and in the betraying rays of the moon had seen her face. If Arómenë had stayed but a moment longer she would have seen the look of utter disbelief and anger that graced the older elf's face.
Of course, Erestor never had been able to tell the twin daughters of Elrond apart.