Pippin rattled as they waited outside Elrond's receiving chamber. Elladan tried to curb his rising anger, the one thing that seperated he and Elrohir. His twin could be ready to tear an orc's head off but to look at him, one would never know. Elladan, on the other hand, displayed his temper readily, as he did now.
"Stop!" he shouted to the cheerful hobbit. Pippin, wide-eyed, stared at him. "Just...look, I'll tell you where Merry is if you leave me be." There were too many concerns plagueing him to make room for the nonsense of a hobbit, who now nodded eagerly.
It is said that elves have a sense beyond the reckoning of mortals, a light from Valinor itself that cannot be quenched, save by death. This light was no less bright in the sons of Elrond.
A quiver awoke in Elladan's mind as he bent his thoughts to the task, guiding him through the pathways of mysteries and darkness, finally landing upon a familiar sense every bit as attuned as his. It was waiting for him, greeting and beckoning him. He looked at Pippin with sudden clarity.
"You will find a tall elf in the kitchens. Fair of face, strengthened hands, golden-haired, in the raiment of Mirkwood..." he trailed off, seeing Pippin's confused face. "Raiment of green and brown," he amended. "He is waiting for you to arrive to escort you to your friend." Pippin jumped up gleefully, thoughts of Elladan already thrown to the wind.
Elladan sighed and leaned his head back against the wall just as the door to his father's chamber opened and Elizabeth stood before him.
~ Nilgaerien~ :pixie: