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Reflections from the Paradise of Elves  by Bodkin

The Paradise of Elves – Part 15:  Signs

‘Do you ever feel,’ enquired Elladan thoughtfully, breaking a twig into small pieces and dropping them one after the other into the stream, ‘that, now it is perfectly acceptable for us to disappear into forest glades with our wives for secret trysts, it is actually rather less exciting?’

Legolas turned to look at him.  ‘Well,’ he said. ‘I suppose in some ways you are right.  But I am afraid that I am pleased to be able to take time to enjoy myself with my wife without having to look back over my shoulder all the time as I snatch a few quick kisses. That held an excitement I can do without.’

His friend accepted his words with a quick wave. ‘That is different, Legolas.  Elerrina’s father would have been quite delighted to find an excuse for inflicting some rather painful surgery on you – I am not surprised you were a little edgy about being caught.  I, on the other hand, find I rather miss the intrigue.’

‘You would,’ his brother sighed.  ‘I love waking to find my wife beside me, her head on my shoulder, knowing that she is always there for me and that we are free to take our pleasure in each other’s arms – and that we will be together not just today, or tomorrow, but for ever.’

‘Well, you are a romantic,’ Elladan said critically. 

‘Is that a bad thing?’

‘No,’ his twin sighed. ‘It just that, good as life is, it all seems rather – monotonous.’

‘Only you could complain about being too happy,’ Legolas informed him with exasperation.

‘Miriwen says I need something challenging to do.’

‘She always was a sensible elleth.  Does she have anything in mind?’

Elrohir sighed. ‘Why do I have the feeling that any scheme devised to occupy Elladan will inevitably involve us?’

‘Experience, my friend.  Centuries of experience.’

Elladan’s eyes gleamed brightly.  ‘Come, my brother, you would not turn down an opportunity for adventure, would you?’

‘That would depend, my brother, on the particular heap of manure in which you wish to drop us now.’

‘Is one heap of manure likely to be preferable to another?’ Legolas pondered.  ‘I would have thought that they were all worth avoiding.’

‘Anyway,’ Elladan ignored him, ‘I am not at all sure what my beloved wife was intending to suggest.  But – and here is the scary part – ,’ he added, ‘when she said it, naneth laughed.’

Elrohir straightened up. ‘Really?  That is quite worrying.’

‘How can that be worrying?’ their friend protested.

Elladan shook his head.  ‘Naneth sometimes shows a very perverted sense of humour,’ he explained.  ‘The only more ominous sign is if our daernaneth smiles at you in that way that says ‘I know exactly what is going to happen and I am looking forward to watching you find out.’  And do you know what?’

‘She did?’ Elrohir asked.

His brother nodded.

‘Valar protect us,’ the younger twin said piously.  ‘You should never have tempted fate, Elladan.  I only hope you do not bring us all down with you.  You are the one who wanted some excitement.’

‘Are you sure there is something to trouble us?’ Legolas asked.  ‘After all, nothing has happened yet.’

‘Not yet,’ Elladan agreed, smiling at the picture made by the three beautiful elves making their way across the bridge to meet them, animated smiles on their faces.  ‘But I have a feeling that it will not be long before we discover what particular peril is heading our way.’


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