Not Again?!

Chapter 5

     "Raich!" Elladan cursed, dropping his right hand in exasperation and glaring at himself in his mirror.  He had been trying for ten minutes now to braid his hair back in its usual style, but he couldn't do it with only one hand, and he couldn't even move his left arm without pain shooting through his shoulder.  Of course, it had only started doing when he tried to do his hair.  It hadn't protested at all while he was getting dressed for the day.  "Stupid shoulder," Elladan muttered, frowning again.  He heard a knock at the door, and knew immediately who it was.

     "Come in."

     "Hey, El!"  Elrohir was already coming in, his hair already done, immaculate as always.  He stifled a laugh at his brother's furious face.  "Having trouble?"

     "No," grumbled Elladan, reaching up and starting to separate three strands of hair for a small braid.  His twin sighed and walked up beside him, taking the handful of hair.  Elladan glowered at himself in the mirror while Elrohir deftly plaited one length of hair, then moved to the other side and did the same.  A few moments later, Elrohir tied the braids back into the same style he wore himself.

     "There.  All done."

     "Thanks," his brother grudgingly said.

     "You just had to ask."  Elrohir did a double-take, glancing at his brother's clothes, then his own.  "Are we wearing the same clothes again - we are."  He rolled his eyes.  "Guess I'll change."  Starting for the door, he was stopped by Elladan, whose face had changed to a mischievous grin.  "Wait!  Don't."

     "Why not?"

     Elladan picked up a length of white fabric from the dresser and tossed it to his identical twin.  Their expressions matched - a knowing smirk coupled with a twinkle in their eye.

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     "Have you seen Elrohir?" Glorfindel asked the son of Elrond in front of him.

     The twin looked up, his shoulder wrapped securely in a sling.  His dark eyes were round and innocent, and Glorfindel was immediately suspicious, but he didn't know why.  After all, Elladan was the one that had gotten hurt - it made it easy to tell between the two when they decided to wear the same clothes and confuse everyone.  "What do you need Elrohir for?"

     Glorfindel smiled, a small, grim smile.  "Oh, I have a . . . present for him."

     "Ohh."  The twin shrugged.  "Well, the last time I saw him was in the side halls near the dining area."  He ducked his head quickly, but not before Glorfindel caught a strange smile on his face.

     Glorfindel shrugged and headed and left the dusty library, heading toward the dining hall.  Even if Elrohir wasn't there, someone was sure to have seen him.  As soon as he entered the dining hall, he caught sight of a dark-haired ellon standing across the room and chatting with a few elf maidens, a grin on his face as he regaled them with a tale, probably one from his adventures with his twin.  "Found you," muttered Glorfindel, starting for him.

     But then he stopped.

     The twin had turned, revealing a white sling supporting his arm and wrapped around his neck.  His dark hair was a stark contrast to the bandage.  The Balrog-slayer stared.  "What?"

     Oh.  It was another prank.  But which one was Elrohir?  The twin in the library had the same clothes, the same hairstyle, as the one in this room.  They both had a sling holding up their left arm . . . it had to be the one in the library!  That little smirk on his face right before Glorfindel left - he was proud of himself for fooling the Elf Lord.  This was infuriating!  Glorfindel spun and headed back to the library, a formidable look on his face.