Written for a birthday request:  'I'd like to see scenes about diplomacy. Between allies or enemies, showing success or failure, and any time or place.'

Elladan and Elrohir find their skills of diplomacy and tact stretched to their limits when Estel asks for advice.  A double drabble.

The Art Of Diplomacy

“Well?  What do you think?”  Estel asked.

Elrohir exchanged a hopeless glance with his other brother.  Young Estel’s ‘poem’ was trite, badly rhymed, and full of clichés.  “It’s …”  he fumbled for words. 

“Totally unique!”  Elladan declared.  Elrohir shot his twin a look full of admiration.

“Yes!  It’s unique, and … and says something that only you can say,”  he agreed.

“Then you think I should show her?”

“No!”

“No – it’s too personal and private.  You should … ah …”  This time it was Elladan who faltered.

“You should keep it to yourself for a while, Estel,”  Elrohir advised.  “Treasure it, and savour it;  keep it for days when you do not see her …”

“ … as a solace against your loneliness,”  Elladan finished with triumph.

Estel’s face glowed.  “Oh, yes!  Thank you – I knew you would know what to do!”  He folded the paper reverently and slipped it into his shirt pocket.  “I shall keep it by my heart,” he vowed.

After he left, Elladan dropped into a chair and groaned.  “Do you remember when we had to negotiate a peace treaty between two warring Dwarf clans?”

Elrohir nodded.  “Compared with a lovelorn thirteen-year-old, the Dwarves were simple.”