Pride Goeth …

When he woke up the sky above was dim, not lighter but darker than when they had breakfasted.   He blinked, staring up at Elladan who was kneeling over him anxiously.  “What – what happened?”  he croaked.

Elladan sat back with a sigh of relief.  “What happened, little brother, is that you decided to impress Taniquel.”

Elrohir frowned, remembering.  “The flowers,”  he said at last.

“The flowers,”  Elladan agreed.  “Taniquel mentioned how pretty they were – so you decided to climb up the cliff to pick them for her.”

“But it’s her begetting day!”  Elrohir pointed out.  He turned his head gingerly,  trying to see.  “Where is she now?” 

“She ran back to get help.   Are you hurt?”

Elrohir considered the question, cataloguing numerous aches and pains, though it seemed that nothing was broken.  “Only my pride,”  he decided at last.  He sat up carefully, wincing as he rubbed his aching head – and then grinned.    Clutched within his hand, and miraculously unharmed by the fall, he still held the tiny flowers: an intense, brilliant blue.  He looked at Elladan in triumph.

“Look,”  he said happily.  “They’re the exact colour of her eyes!”