A?N: This is my first story. It is part of a series featuring several familiar characters and an OC. It is an AU, so my coming of age is at 500. My twins and Legolas are about 12-13 in human years. This means no romance for all you Mary-Sue worshippers. It takes place approximately around 231 of the Third Age, when Arwen was born. Please read and review. Constructive criticism is welcome, but please no flames.

Summary: Four young elves come of age during a time of strife and gathering darkness, finding that the bond they have with each other will last through the ages.

Disclaimer: I only own Liranar. Everything else is a result of Tolkein.


Prologue

The years after the Great War and the Fall of Sauron were times of despair and fear. For though the Dark Lord had been defeated, a shadow still cast its pall about Arda, one that encompassed all races. None were immune to the adverse effects of the war, threatening to destroy the already fragile balance. The Dwarves had retreated within their mountain halls, oblivious to the struggles that ensued after the final, horrific conflict. Men were scattered, weakened by the loss of many a soldier. Their king, Elendil, had perished, along with his son and heir. The line of kings had seemingly ended beyond redemption, leaving Men vulnerable.

Elves fared no better.

The High-King Gil-Galad had fallen, accompanied to the Halls of Mandos by his loyal followers. Too many an eternal flame had been forever extinguished. Few, now, were the havens and refuges in which this immortal race could be found. Those that remained would soon be locked in a constant struggle to inhibit the growing shadows. Rifts had been torn between the Silvan and Noldor races, divisions that had been allowed to grow ever wider as a result of this tension. Blame and bitter accusations stoked the already growing flames. The two estranged Elven races would not allow their grievances to be so readily healed.

And thus did Arda enter the Third Age.


Chapter One: Imladris

Two dark haired blurs sped through the intricate corridors of Imladris, desperately trying to escape the wrath of their father's advisor. The occasional innocent out for a stroll amidst the serene beauty of the Elven haven suddenly found themselves fearing for their lives as the duo came speeding towards them. They were even more astonished when none other than Glorfindel of the Golden Hair swiftly appeared, wearing nothing but a long towel wrapped tightly about his hips. Jaws dropped as the normally dignified Captain of the Guard skidded by, his famed hair a vivid shade of pink.

"Elladan! Elrohir!" he roared, in a voice that had surely cowed the Balrog he had slain so many millennia ago. The observers shook their heads and continued on. The young twins had absolutely no chance of ever coming out of this encounter alive.

The two sons of Elrond Peredhil and the Lady Celebrian had thus far managed to flee because of the fact that the advisor had next to nothing on. However, that advantage was thrown aside when they suddenly found their way blocked by a locked door.

"A Valar, 'Dan, you led us to a dead end!" Elrohir moaned, wringing his hands as he looked over his shoulder.

Elladan pounded his fist against the intricately carved wooden door. When that failed to open it, he resorted to his next plan of glaring at his twin brother as he nursed his bruised hand. "It was your fault too! You were the one who sneezed when we were behind that curtain."

Elrohir's grey eyes flashed, as sharp as steel. He balled his fists for the ensuing conflict. "Yes, but who was the one who gave us away to Glorfindel in the first place?"

Elladan's face, already the mirror image of his brother's, became even more similar with the fires of righteous fury burning behind his sharpened gaze. "That only happened because you shoved me…" His words were abruptly cut off by the entrance of the seething pink haired captain. His mad dash after the twins had not dried him; water flowed off of him in rivulets to puddle on the white marble of the floor. Fury radiate off of him, almost palpable in its magnitude.

Elladan and Elrohir felt the blood drain out of their faces and their eyes grow large in animal-like fear. A bemused part of the Balrog-Slayer noted that the young Elves looked remarkably like…rabbits. Little balls of fur, quivering in fear. Huddled against each other, as if in hope he would not see them. Rabbits who knew that there would be no escape.

He advanced upon the frozen twins, the fires of rage burning in the depths of his brilliant blue eyes. A vicious grin twisted his fair features into a mask that even the bravest could not meet without trepidation. No doubt the twins were brave. They had to be, to risk incurring his ire in the first place. However, he was an Elf-Lord, millennia old, wise and powerful beyond belief. More than a match for the two headaches of Imaldris.

The young Elves backed up until they could go no farther. Glorfindel was terrible in his wrath, the brilliant pink locks drawing nothing away from the strength of his aura. They let out identical squeaks of fear as the formidable warrior closed in upon them.


Elrond Peredhil, Lord of Imladris, and his lady, Celebrian, strolled arm in arm amidst the ethereal beauty of the vale. The Elves they passed paused their activities to acknowledge their Lord and Lady with reverent bows. In turn, the couple responded with deep nods and a smile before they continued on their way.

The morning had dawned clear and bright, beckoning to all to leave the confines of the halls for the first day of warmth and sun since winter began. It was spring now; the first blooms poked their heads cautiously above the ground, new leaves unfurled from the branches of trees, and birds had once again returned to the Elven haven to regale its inhabitants.

No words were spoken between the couple, but none were needed. The birds sang for them, lifting their voices in melodious songs; praising the coming of the new season.

Elrond looked lovingly at the lady whose arm was wrapped about his own. She had tilted her face to capture the rays of light filtering through the budding trees. Her long locks played about her shoulders, a fierce spangle of golden fire. She hummed to the rhythm of the birds' songs about her, swaying gently as she placed a hand on the rounded flesh of her abdomen. She was as beautiful as the day he had met her, all those years ago, dancing amidst the eaves of Lothlorien with such passion and grace. He had known then that he loved her, this fey daughter of Galadriel. There would never be another. He remembered the day they were married. She had shone brightly, illuminating all with her presence. Her radiance had not diminished; rather, it had only increased as time passed, matching that of the stars held so beloved by the Eldar.

And she has never looked more lovely than now, he thought as he watched his wife, heavy with their third child, reach up to pluck a proffered blossom from the branch of a tree.

"Hannon le," she murmured softly, then looked up as she felt her husband's gaze upon her. His breath caught in his throat as he noted the mischievous sparkle of her dancing grey eyes. So like the twins', they were! She leaned in, pausing to stare deeply into his face. Her proximity stirred him, made his heart gallop at a furious pace. Her lips had quirked upwards ever so slightly. She knew what effect she had on him. She let him suffer a second longer before gently placing her lips upon his, treasuring a bit of light in a darkened world.

A sudden commotion interrupted the intimacy of the moment. The couple reluctantly broke apart. The Elf-Lord sighed. If he had chosen to walk the paths of mortality, his head would have been one great ache right then.

"I suppose my services are required to sort out this new development." Celebrian's eyes grew concerned as she looked upon the weary countenance of her husband. Such burdens he shouldered; striving to keep the dark from engulfing Imladris as well as dealing with the animosity of their woodland kin in Greenwood. She reached up with a gentle hand, as if to simply brush those cares and concerns away. However, that was impossible. She settled for imparting strength and comfort as she stroked the raven locks of her beloved.

"Worry not, meleth nîn." She smiled slightly and pulled him closer once again. "I believe it is nothing that cannot be taken care of at a later time. After all, even great Elf-Lords need a day off once in a while."

He stared at her for a long moment, one elegant brow arched in consideration. "You," he murmured wryly, "are a bad influence. It is most certainly not my fault that the twins are so troublesome."

She lay her golden head upon her husband's shoulder. He placed his own upon hers, his dark hair falling upon them like a sleek curtain. They remained thus for a long while, savoring the fleeting peace of unconditional love on a fresh spring morning.


"Well? What do you have to say for yourselves?" Elrond aimed The Look at his two errant children, standing before him with heads bowed and a nervous cast about them. No doubt in part to Glorfindel standing behind them; hands twitching ever so slightly, as if with the thought of wringing identical slender necks. A thirst for vengeance gleamed within his brilliant blue eyes; a cold, calculated wrath that boded only ill. It was enough to frighten even the bravest. As it was, the Noldo Elf-Lord was torn between wanting to shudder and outright laugh at his advisor. I must tell him that pink is truly his color. When there's an army of orcs dividing us, that is.

He did notice when Elrohir gave a sharp jab with his elbow to his twin's ribs. Elladan glared at him. Their eyes met, an unspoken quarrel obviously taking place. The older twin frowned and threw his smug brother a disgusted look before turning back to their father. He glanced up once. Meeting his father's stern gaze, he faltered before deciding to stare at the lord's chin. Elrond cleared his throat demandingly, drumming his fingers against the wood of his desk. The child grew paler.

"Ada, it truly wasn't our fault. Truly." The elfling was babbling and stumbling over his words, so fearful was he of the infuriated presence of the Gondolin Elf behind him. "It's just Tithir told us about some herbs and how they could make hair change color but everyone around here has dark hair except for Naneth and Glorfindel and since Nana's going to have the baby soon we didn't want to bother her…" Elrond placed a calm hand upon his son's shoulder, and felt the young Elf jump slightly. He had not even heard his father come up behind him.

"Breathe, Elladan. You have nothing to fear." A lie. I'd be a wreck, too, if the Balrog Slayer were looking at me like that. "Now, did Tithir say if there was anyway to remove the coloring?" Both young Elves looked up at these statements, grey eyes filled with a curious mixture of apprehension and hope. Poor things. I really do regret placing them in Glorfindel's tender ministrations. He shuddered slightly. There was great doubt that he'd ever see them again.

The twins shifted nervously, lowering their eyes back down to the ground.

"Errr…no?"

Behind them, Elrond could see a vein throb at the pink haired captain's temple.

The Elf-Lord sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes once more, the twines were gazing at him, unabashedly pleading for their lives. He felt himself breaking under the onslaught. The twins, for how young they were, had already developed many different looks and expressions engineered specifically to get them out of-or into-trouble. At the moment his boys were wearing their Please-don't-kill-us-we're-too-young-to-die looks of guilt and innocence. It was almost enough to sway the powerful Elven-Lord. Yet one glance at the once-golden tresses of his friend was enough to sober him as much as one of Erestor's long-winded speeches.

As much as I would like to reward them for a job well-done, Glorfindel would send me to the Halls of Mandos.

He mustered his resolve and gave the twins a Look, crushing all hopes of being released. "As your punishement, you will aid Lord Glorfindel until he deems you properly repentant." Horror flitted across their identical faces. Elrohir looked as if he were trying not to choke while Elladan just stared at his father in white faced shock. Behind them, the Gondolin Elf almost purred in satisfaction. And that is the epitome of evil. He could only watch in helplessness as his enthusiastic captain dragged the quivering twins away with him. He had consigned his children to death.

Ah, well, there's always the other one on the way.


"A week! A whole Valar-given week!" Elrohir moaned to his minutes-older brother. "And no end in sight." They had managed to escape from the clutches of the Elf-Lord, at least for the moment. "If I never see another report again, it will be too soon."

His twin, squeezed next to him in a most uncomfortable position, gave an undignified snort. "I wouldn't count on that, Ro. He's going to find us again sooner or later, and when he does…" He let the ominous threat linger in the darkened room.

Elrohir shivered nervously. "You are depressing me Dan. I don't ever want to see the inside of his office again." He unconsciously moved closer to his brother, seeking solace and support. "I'm going to be traumatized for eternity!"

An unseen, irritated look furrowed Elladan's smooth brow. "Stop your whining! It could be worse."

A dubious voice floated from the darkness. "I really don't want to know…umph!" Elrohir squeaked indignantly as his twin clamped a rough hand about his mouth.

"Be silent! Someone approaches….Aiieee!" A screech of pain and fury was let loose as the younger elf bit his brother's offensive appendage. Elladan rubbed the injured spot, as if willing the hurt away. "What'd you do that for, orc-brain?"

Before the impulsive younger twin could reply, the door of their hiding place swung open. The light flooding in silhouetted the figure in the door way and blinded the twins with its bright radiance.

"Now Elladan, what have I told you about swearing?" The musical tones of their mother reached the terrified brothers, who clung to each other desperately.

"Oh naneth, please don't tell Glorfindel we're in here. We're so tired of working for him." Celebrian smiled slightly at the sight of her elflings. They were quite adorable, quivering in fear, their slender forms wrapped about each other.

"Actually, I came to see if you wished to join me on an outing. Your adar is busy, but I daresay you wouldn't mind spending a bit of time with your naneth." Her smile broadened as the boys, grey eyes dancing with joy, hugged her tightly, gently placing dark heads against the rounded contours of her stomach to feel their new baby brother or sister's life stir beneath their touches. Their mother glanced down at them lovingly. She was so blessed! Yes, they were utter terrors, but they were the life of Imladris, the bright flame of youth amidst an ancient race.

"Well, come along. Arasse knows an excellent glade in which we can have lunch." She had to laugh as her sons bounded out the door and towards the courtyard where their small escort waited with loud whoops.


"My lord."

Elrond immediately stopped his frantic pacing in his study. Celebrian and the boys had promised to be back by mid-afternoon. The sun was on its way down before he had sent out search parties seeking the missing family and their escort. Now the sky had long since darkened, brightened only by the unwavering light of the stars.

"Where are they? Are they alright? Has anything happened to them?" His desperate pleas unnerved the guard, who had never seen his lord so distraught before.

It was with tears in his eyes that the younger elf told his lord the devastating news. "We found the bodies of the escort, hir nîn, slain by orcs. There was no sign of either your wife or your children."