The Paradise of Elves – Part 3:  Maturity

‘So, how are you enjoying being together with your parents again?’ Legolas asked as they lounged at the top of the tower overlooking the gardens.

The twins exchanged glances. ‘Now the first euphoria has worn off, you mean?’ Elrohir enquired, tossing a berry high up into the air and flicking it as it fell.

‘It is rather like being back in the nursery,’ Elladan admitted frankly. ‘I keep expecting to be asked if I have washed behind my ears or whether I have remembered to change my underwear.’

‘Despite our centuries as warriors, adar seems to think we are incapable of looking after ourselves,’ added Elrohir.

‘What about you?’ Elladan asked curiously.

Legolas looked at his friends as their eyes followed the curve of a berry sent high into the sky.  ‘Do you know,’ he said, his tone ironic, ‘I am being led to believe that only the very great grace of all the Valar combined can possibly have enabled me to survive the last centuries in this peaceful haven without my adar’s guidance.’  He shook his head. ‘To listen to Thranduil you would get the impression that I am a disaster waiting for a chance to happen.  He keeps reminding me of all the times I have said that I was perfectly well able to take care of myself only to tumble into some misadventure.’

‘Anyone would think we were still elflings,’ Elladan said disdainfully.

‘And simple-minded ones at that,’ Legolas agreed.

‘Right, it is your turn now.’  Elrohir turned to his friend.

Legolas picked up a handful of the hard red berries and began to flick them, one by one, targeting the patch of grass below where sat a group of ellyth  who were, as yet, quite unaware of their presence.

Elladan sniffed. ‘It really is about time that our adars learned to see us as the responsible adults that we clearly are,’ he said.