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Elladan sank down on the floor beside his brother and drew a deep breath. “Well, I’m back,” he said.
“Did you find it? What did they get us?” Elrohir demanded, entirely oblivious to the alarming shade of crimson on his twin’s face.
“I found something, all right,” Elladan replied unsteadily, dropping his head to his knees, “but it certainly was not our begetting day gifts.”
At last, Elrohir seemed to notice his brother’s distress. “What did you find?”
“The reason Ada and Nana sometimes do not take the noon meal in the dining hall. I thought they were in the garden, but they – they were not.”
Elladan proceeded to tell, in lurid detail, exactly what he did find in their parents’ chamber while snooping for those hidden presents.
Their gentle, demure mother flat on her back on her bed, with Elrond’s face buried between her thighs. Slender hands that had so often cooled a sweaty brow, calmed a nightmare, patted a tummy aching from eating too many sour apples, twisting and knotting her husband’s long, dark hair, a litany of salty expletives spewing from her lips.
“They were not.” Elrohir’s eyes were perfectly round with disbelief.
“They were, Ro, I swear.”
Elrohir’s face turned an unflattering shade of green. “That is disgusting.”
“Exactly.”
*~*~* finis *~*~*