Summary: Elrond's twins want a bedtime story.

“Uncle Thranduil?”

Thranduil smiled at the pair of small Peredhil leaning against his knees. “Yes, pennith?”

“Tell us a story?” Elladan asked. Thranduil smiled, stroking his raven hair.

“Oh? What sort of story would you like?” the Elvenking asked his small charges.

“A story about you,” Elrohir suggested, “with Nana and Ada in it.” He flashed a sunny smile.

“About me? Well, then. Would you like to hear about how your Nana and I played a trick on Niniel?”  The twins nodded.

“Now, this isn’t to be repeated, mind you…”

“We promise!”

And so Thranduil began to spin his tale.

As Thranduil tucked in the sleeping twins, Celebrian appeared in the open doorway. “I was just going to do that, Thranduil,” she said apologetically. “What have you been telling my children?”

“Nothing,” Thranduil said, a slow grin crossing his features. “Nothing that puts you in a bad light, I promise.”

“What about Niniel?” Celebrian asked. Thranduil did his best to look innocent, and laughed as his cousin rolled her eyes.

“Thranduil Oropherion, you are incorrigible.”

“You just say so because you love me, gwathel-nin,” Thranduil teased back. Celebrian smiled innocently.

“Tomorrow, Elrond will tell them a tale.”

Thranduil groaned.

Doomed.