Sense and Insensibility

By Anand


Arwen crouched at the door, peering through the keyhole.  She could just make out the end of the corridor where it met the stairs.  Any minute now her father would be returning to get on with his paperwork.  She looked over her shoulder and addressed her brother.

"Hurry up, Elladan," she urged, "we haven't got much time." 

Long, velvet curtains flapped at the open study window.  A storm was gathering in the west and voluminous grey clouds filled the skies, prematurely darkening the afternoon. "Nearly done," came a voice from under the desk. There was a splintering of wood, followed by a scrabbling along the carpet as Elladan appeared, armed with a small fretsaw and looking rather dishevelled. He dragged himself up, flung the fretsaw out the window and joined his sister at the study door.

"Oh Elbereth, here he comes," reported Arwen, spotting her father making his way along the corridor in a mood fit to freeze an orc at ten paces.  "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all," she added, remembering that she'd heard him and her mother arguing in their bedroom again this morning.

"Too late now," laughed Elladan, pulling her into a nearby cupboard half filled with scrolls but big enough to hide them both providing they didn't move a muscle. 

Arwen felt her heart beating in her chest as Elladan held her tight.  Now she was almost at her majority, she reached up to his shoulder. If they moved at all the door would squeak and fly open.  But it would probably squeak anyway since it was as ill made as the chair Elladan had been busily augmenting.

The study door opened and in strode Lord Elrond.  He slammed it shut behind him and made his way to the desk where he deposited a large ream of paper in a haphazard pile, the odd sheet floating down to the floor in a flurry of insecurity.

"F…!"  he said to no-one in particular. "All I do battle with nowadays is a plethora of inconsequential drivel."

He pulled out the chair and sat down in a huff.  There was a moan of wooden protest, a sharp retort as two back legs simultaneously shattered, and then both the chair and Elrond collapsed in a heap on the carpet.  There then followed as many Noldorin oaths as Elrond had in his vocabulary.  It was pretty extensive.

Inside the cupboard Elladan and his sister shook with laughter.  He clasped his palm over Arwen's mouth and bit his tongue but it didn't make any difference.  The cupboard itself began to shake, the door squeaked, the latch slipped and…

Elrond watched in amazement as two of his children tumbled out of the cupboard and collapsed to the ground quaking with merriment, in much the same way as the chair had gone moments before.  Except that wasn't so funny.  He rapidly put two and two together and rose up to his full height.  The one suitable for intimidation.

"I have only one word to say to you two.  Kitchens.  Now."  He brushed down his robes.

"That is …," began Elladan, inadvisably. 

"Don't say it, Elladan.  You set your sister *such* a good example.  Get moving.  You can both prepare all the vegetables for dinner tonight and scour out the ovens.  I shall come down and inspect them later.  While you live in this house, you can show me some respect.  Now get going."

He held the door open as they sheepishly exited and slammed it behind them.  They were halfway down the corridor when they began to laugh again and rapidly made their way downstairs before Elrond heard the ineffectual results of his telling-off.

~

"Not again," said Erutanie, as Arwen and Elladan arrived at the kitchen to take up their enforced duties.

"And good afternoon to you, Mistress Erutanie," said Elladan as he took a seat at the expansive preparation table.  Erutanie had apple pies on the menu and he took a piece of sliced apple to eat from a large ceramic bowl.  Arwen circled around and dipped her finger in the sugar.

"Stop it, stop it, you two.  Most unhygienic."  She ushered them away from the table and set them to work at the sinks.  "I presume its vegetable prep then?"

"Aye," sighed Arwen, "and cleaning out the ovens."

"Well you can't do that.  I've things cooking now.  Your father should know better."  She motioned to her helper, Daeriel, to take a finished pie to one of the wood burning stoves.  "Typical male.  Of course they think everything domestic happens in a blink of an eye with absolutely no effort on the part of the housekeeper."

"Which *I* know is simply not correct," said Elladan.  Arwen elbowed him in the ribs.  He was such a crawler.

"Well," continued Erutanie, "that may be because you are here so often."  She laughed.  "Perhaps you will make someone a nice wife one day."

Arwen burst out laughing, too and Elladan dropped his knife in the sink.

"Sticky fingers," teased Erutanie.  "That won't do.  Not when you enter your marriage bed.  You'll want to undo her nightgown. Or his."

There was general merriment all round the kitchen.  Elladan blushed.  "Give me the wretched vegetables, then," he said.

"Well, my dear, what would you like?" asked Erutanie, fishing around in a wicker basket on the floor and coming up with a selection of produce recently harvested from the farmer's fields.  "We have cabbages and carrots."  She sniggered and Arwen wiped away a tear of laughter from her own eye.

"I'll have both," returned Elladan, looking her boldly in the eyes.

"How very enlightened," finished Erutanie, placing the vegetables on the draining board as the whole kitchen rapidly descended into uncontrolled hilarity. 

That was, until a large and warty, bright green toad crawled from between the vegetables.  Arwen screamed and leaped on a kitchen chair.  It was the fastest move Elladan had seen her make in a long while.  Perhaps she was, at last, showing some athletic prowess and would make a good dancer.  The toad croaked, opened its mouth and out dropped a folded up piece of paper.

"How extraordinary," exclaimed Elladan and whipped up the paper before Erutanie could get there.

"Let's have a look," said Arwen, from the sanctuary of her chair.

"One moment," said Elladan, unfolding the paper whilst the toad sat on the draining board fixing him with a beady eye.  There was writing on the paper.  He held up it to the window.

"It says," he began, scanning the writing which was a bit blurred having been in the toad's mouth for Elbereth knows how long, "it says, whoever receives this message, will they meet the sender by the brethil stand in the southern meadow at sunrise on …oh I can't read that."

"Let me take a look," said Erutanie.  She held it up to the light.  "Mmm.  The date given is tomorrow.  Whoever put the toad in the basket must have known we would use the vegetables up quickly.  Greens don't last long in this heat.  But who was supposed to find the note?  Me?  One of the assistants?"

"It's a mystery," stated Arwen. "It could mean Elladan or I, we are in here so often."

"Well, there's only one thing to do," said Elladan, picking up the toad and throwing it out of the window.  "We'll all have to go and meet this mystery person."

"After you've cleaned the ovens," reminded Erutanie.

"Have a heart, Mistress," said Elladan, going to work on a carrot.

"That went out the window a long time ago, in the same direction as the toad," mused Erutanie.  "Don't hold it like that, Elladan. You'll get arrested."

"Yes, he'll be up before the Council," teased Arwen.

"Or up before Master Erestor," added Erutanie, "*up* being the operative word."

"Ye Gods," said Elladan as he began to chop the carrot into even slices.

~

The following morning, very early, saw Elladan, Erutanie, Arwen and Daeriel camped out under the brethil stand.  The storm had come and gone in the night, much like Erutanie's husband was wont to do, as she so eruditely remarked.   However, it was still damp and muggy.   She ferreted around in a basket she had bought with her and drew out a half-empty bottle.  Or it was half-full, depending on your point of view.

"Let's have some of this to keep up our spirits," she announced, handing round the bottle.

Arwen pulled out the cork and took a huge mouthful.  "Elbereth," she exclaimed, her eyes watering, "what vintage is this?"

"Finest cooking sherry," said Erutanie, as Daeriel giggled and drank her share.

"It tastes better than some of Papa's so-called prime vintages," remarked Elladan, guzzling down his portion and handing it back to Erutanie.

"Oh, so you've been sampling them, then?" asked Arwen.

"Mmm, yes.  I've devised this system, you see. I take a reed out of Elrohir's clarinet and insert it down the side of a cork.  This levers it slightly, enough to get a quarter of a glass out without actually removing the cork.   Then I just slip it out and drink the evidence.  It all depends on the corks being pliable enough, really.  If they're very old, it's impossible, the reed breaks.  Then I have to find another reed for Elrohir before he starts his clarinet practice.  And some upholstery stuffing."

"What?" asked Daeriel, agog.

"For my ears.  Elbereth, you should hear him.  I've heard better tunes from a mountain cat calling for a mate.  If you listen for too long it affects your stomach."  Elladan clutched at his belly and did a good imitation of someone vomiting up copious amounts of something nasty.

"Oh, I feel tired," murmured Arwen, as the sherry began to take effect.  "I think I'll just have a little nap.  The sun won't be up for another half hour."

"And me," said Daeriel, shuffling about and making a nest in the long grass beside Arwen.

Elladan looked over in Erutanie's direction to see she was already asleep, snoring softly, slumped against the nearest brethil with her head lolled on her ample breasts.  He wondered what on Ennor would happen if they all fell into a stupor before the mystery message sender arrived but as he was working out what to do for the best, he too succumbed to the inevitable.

~

As dawn broke out over Imladris a single rider approached the brethil stand.  He slid off his white horse and sauntered over to the group of elves napping on the ground.  He tried to shake one of them awake but it was no good.  They were all out for the count, including the intended recipient of his carefully laid plans.  How very crass of them all! They deserved a good lesson in manners.

In ten minutes flat he had divested them of all their clothing, bundled it up and returned to his horse.  In another few minutes he had disappeared into the distance making for his camp in the pinewoods.

~

It was around ten o'clock and Lord Elrond was taking his accustomed horse ride along the banks of the Bruinen.  He was in a much better mood today.  Celebrian had apologised for her outburst of the previous morning and he had apologised for being the cause of it.  So everything was rosy in the garden once again. He decided on impulse to visit the southern meadows and perhaps stop for a breather under the brethil stand. 

After a while he entered the meadow and approached the shady grove of silvery-barked trees.  Only some other elves were already there.  As he approached and dismounted he recognised them.  Elladan, Arwen and two ladies from the kitchens.  And what was more, they were all as naked as the day that they were born.  What on Ennor had been going on?  He dreaded to think if it involved Elladan. Three naked ladies, one of which was his sister.  Ye Gods. 

As Elrond drew near he nearly fell over the empty sherry bottle.  Ai, yes.  A very potent drink in the wrong hands. Or the right, come to that. Elladan was about to die.

"Elladan!  You are in it up to your neck," shouted Elrond, straight down his son's ear.  It was the voice of doom.  Mandos reaching out with his scythe and dragging the elf back to his Halls.

"F…!" cried Elladan, which was his time-honoured response to anything involving imminent danger.  He forced open his eyes to find the horrific vision of his fuming father bending over him baring his teeth.  "F…!" he repeated, trying in vain to raise his head off the ground. It felt like lead.

"Oh I do so hope you haven't," said Elrond, evenly.

Elladan felt a giggling fit coming on, which was most inappropriate in the circumstances.

"Hi, Papa," he said, breaking out into a smile.  "Do you know I can see right up your nose?"  It seemed like the sensible thing to say.  The laughter started in his stomach and soon he was convulsed with it, rolling helplessly from side to side, as Elrond started to explode.

"Beep, beep, beeping beep!  And you can beep beeping beep, as well."

At least that was what Elladan *thought* his father was trying to convey.  He really should learn to talk proper, like. Faulty education, it was.  Well if your mother was a seagull and your father floated around the heavens in an aerial ship, what could you expect?  With those pleasant thoughts in his head he passed out again and only woke up in his own bed later on that day.

~

It was Erutanie, shaking him awake.  Now what was she doing in his bedroom?  Thoughts of rampaging husbands immediately came to mind.  Erutanie was highly sought after at Imladris and was already on her third husband, the previous two dipping out and abandoning ship to Valinor after terminal exhaustion had set in.

"What is it Mistress Erutanie?  Have I not come up to standard?"  He shuffled about and leant up against the headboard, yawning and stretching.

"I don't think you've ever had a standard to come up to, lad.  Now listen to me, we are all in big trouble."  She brushed the hair back off his face and tucked it behind his ear.

He listened with interest as she went on. 

"Your dear Papa found us all naked in the southern meadows.  He suspects the worse but I told him I had no idea where our clothes had gone since we were all clothed when we went to sleep."

"Naked?  Did you see me naked?"

"Unfortunately, no.  By the time they woke me, Lord Elrond had already dragged you off on his horse.  You could always peel down those bedclothes, though.  I could give you an honest appraisal."

"Really!" said Elladan.  On impulse he pulled down the bedclothes.

"Mmm," breathed Erutanie, "a rather larger carrot than I had calculated.  Whoever you end up with will be inordinately pleased."

"How nice," returned Elladan, pulling up the bedclothes.  "Were you expecting a cabbage, perchance?"

"No, but you could have been in possession of a parsnip. Or even a turnip.  But they are very rare," she confided, "and most persons with them are put down at birth."

"Well, I'm glad about that," finished Elladan.  "Now tell me, what is Papa proposing to do next?"

"He has a visitor to deal with.  After that, he says he will deal with us."

~

Lord Elrond was indeed dealing with his visitor, who had handed in a large bundle of assorted clothing.  Elrond recognised some of it as belonging to his son.  He rounded on the visitor who was sitting opposite his desk in a brand new chair.  Elrond had installed two of them after the previous day's debacle.

"Would you kindly repeat that?" he was saying.

"I asked if I could put a proposal to your son, my Lord."  The visitor shifted in his seat.  Elrond was being deliberately obtuse, just as his father had said he would be.

"A proposal of marriage," scoffed Elrond, twiddling with his papers as if the whole incident was, well, incidental.

"That is correct," returned Prince Legolas.

"I don't know if he is up to marriage.  He's very immature."  Elrond was good at obtuseness.  It was an art in his opinion.

"He's one hundred and fifty odd," countered Legolas.

"Odd is right," said Elrond.  "Give me some time to think about it and consult his mother, too.  And what does your father say about this?"

"He says that if I want to waste my life on an idiot son of an asinine father, then that is my own business.  As long as I don't do it on his land."

"Really!  He said that?   Hmm, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad match after all."  Elrond had been waiting for an opportunity to pay back Thranduil for the last present he sent him.  A batch of poisoned boar meat, neatly tied up with a red ribbon, decorated tastefully with ivy and marked, `Eat at your own discretion.  Not that you have any, you bastard.  Regards, King Thranduil.'

Legolas leaned back in his chair, satisfied that his ploy had achieved the desired effect.

~

A month had passed.  Elladan was curled up with Legolas in a talan in Lothlórien. Being on neutral ground or neutral tree, as it were, it was a good place to live.

"I had a letter from Papa, today," recounted Elladan, removing Legolas' pet toad from his pillow.  It had left a slimy mark on the linen. The wretched thing croaked all night and stank to high heaven but Legolas said it was his only friend.  Apart from Elladan. The prince was seriously weird.  Elladan thought it was one of his redeeming features.  Of course it was a match made in Valinor.

"What did the old dear want?"  asked Legolas, crunching some wood chippings on the grounds that they were good for the digestion.  He spat out some woodlice.  They hit the floor and the toad jumped on them with delight.

"Only enquiring after my health," returned Elladan, stroking the prince's stomach.

"Your health?  And is it good, Melme?  Want some chippings?"

"Very good.  Pass me that sherry instead.  Erutanie sent some with the message.  She said she hoped you were enjoying my carrot."

"When you reply, tell her aye.  It's a very comely and healthy carrot and ploughs a good furrow most nights.  Or gets ploughed, indeed.  In fact, you can tell her I've taken up farming in a big way."  He spat out a spider, fortunately not chewed, and blew out the candle.

"Oh, get your toad off my thigh, Leggy," complained Elladan, placing the sherry by the side of the bed.

"But he's sitting on the floor," replied Legolas.

"Ah," finished Elladan.

And the moon shone brightly over Lothlórien, the toads croaked with abandon from the treetops, occasionally fell off and were obliterated on impact and the vegetables grew enthusiastically and fruitfully in the good earth and all was well.


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