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Feud	By : narcolinde Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 27132 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Feud
www.feud.shadowess.com
by erobey, robey61@yahoo.com
Beta'd by Sarah AK

Disclaimer: The recognised characters and settings used in this fiction were created by JRR Tolkien. The words, other characters, and ideas here surrounding them belong to erobey alone. No infringement is intended or monies earned through this work.

A/N: Re-loading commencing over the holidays. Hope to have all the errors erased by next weekend.

Thanks for the review, Ash! No I don't have a live journal that I keep up. I have an account somewhere, but my chapters would never load up correctly so I have not used it at all. If you know one that is really easy to use, let me know.

Galadhrim ar Brannon Ûbrand (The Galadhrim and the Ignoble Lord)

It was less an apartment than a studio. And a gallery! Orophin could not be still and was inspecting the huge room minutely, smiling his elusive smile that was more a suggestion of that expression bound within his dark green eyes than any arrangement of facial muscles. The Galadhrim had not journeyed from their home to visit Erestor in Imladris in over three centuries and not once had they been within these chambers. Previously, the seneschal had inhabited a stately wing on the east corner of the dwelling's third story. Though Erestor had remarked on his request for new quarters at the time the change was made, Orophin had not quite imagined this drastic a shift from opulence to spartan utility. And disordered mess! The Lorien warrior was fascinated in spite of the dire situation.

Orophin moved slowly from one painting to the next, seeing more than the brushstrokes and the subtle colours, beyond the composition and play of light and shadow within the canvas. Each one of the works was a glimpse inside the artist's thoughts and feelings, captured over the course of the creation of the picture. More than a fair portion of the seneschal's works was of the Lorien couple. Orophin felt as if he was meeting Erestor for the first time, all over again, and it just made his heart swell in joy before cramping in worry the next instant.

The paintings and drawings covered every available vertical surface from floor to ceiling, stood propped against supports upon the few tables, the mantle, and some even obscured books in the elegant mahogany shelving flanking either side of the ample fireplace. Any horizontal plane, including the floor, was layered with sketchbooks, pallets stained in overlapping smears of dried colours, wooden slats for making frames, cleaning rags, and rolls of sturdy fabric waiting to be stretched smooth and prepared to receive the visual imprint of the seneschal's soul.

Beyond this creative clutter, the rooms were lovely in arrangement yet sparse in furnishings. The walls facing out to the valley were open. A colonnade of slender pillars, each one decorated with a scrolling wave design, allowed the lawns to march right up to the room. Indeed, a doe and two rabbits were having breakfast just beyond these columns, nibbling at the dew-covered grass and clover. No draperies obscured the view or filtered the sunlight and two large easels were situated to take advantage of the natural illumination.

Other than these utilitarian objects, a small grouping of comfortable chairs clustered close to the hearth, a low square table between them. There was an over-sized worktable, a sideboard that held a selection of wine and assorted glassware, and an odd chair or three buried under piles of papers and books. The voluminous disarray was the principle sign that the rooms were someone's living quarters. Two doorways led off this main compartment, presumably to a bedroom and a bathing chamber.

Orophin peeked inside these briefly, pleased to find them neat and tidy, but was drawn back to the easels. Each held a work in progress and it was immediately obvious from the height of the canvases that Erestor remained on his feet while he worked. One painting presented a seascape that brought to mind no place the worthy warden had ever imagined. The ocean depicted was writhing in storm and the entire picture was dark and angry.

Orophin shivered.

He moved to examine the other painting, a watercolour portrait of an elf child and its mother. The work was a delightful rendition of maternal devotion and pride. With a start he realised he knew the pair, for this was the wife of one of his warriors and their small daughter.

"'Beth, come and see!" he called softly and turned to her.

Dambethnîn looked over and smiled from where she was standing, rummaging amid the desk's jumble of assorted brushes, jars of pigments, a mortar and pestle, cleaning solvents and a multitude of small, stained, ceramic bowls in which the paints were mixed with various media for use. She joined her mate and murmured an appreciative sigh as Orophin enfolded her in a protective embrace. She hid away the filmy overlay of longing that glazed her amber eyes as she peered into the painted, laughing ones of the elfling, grateful for her husband's comforting squeeze around her waist. They had not been blessed with offspring though for centuries they had tried. Together they exhaled their sorrow and turned to Glorfindel.

"Thank you for bringing us here," said Dambethnîn.

"Aye, we feel better all ready," added her mate.

Glorfindel smiled and nodded, joining them to admire the painting. "Erestor is quite gifted. He did a painting for me of my parents and our home in Gondolin. I cherish it."

They both smiled at that and allowed their host to lead them over to the fireplace, newly lit and blazing cheerfully. They all sat down and in near unison drew deep breaths to prepare for the discussion, the Galadhrim needing to shore up wobbly courage while Glorfindel sought to free his mind of anger and find a way to reveal enough without breaking his promise.

The Vanyarin warrior had done just as his Lord commanded, taken their guests to suitable accommodations. What could be more appropriate than their bond-mate's apartments within the Last Homely House? He almost smirked save for the serious nature of the circumstances and the evident distress of the Lorien couple as they tried to make themselves easy in the rooms. Glorfindel was certain this was not what Elrond had meant.

"As I said, I will answer whatever questions I can, but I must tell you plainly that I have been constrained under my oath to Manwë and the House of the Mariner not to disclose anything of a personal nature told to me by Lord Elrond," he said.

"I see," said Orophin, though clearly he did not.

"Whatever you can explain will be more than we understand now, and we will be satisfied," added Dambethnîn graciously. "Please, Lord Glorfindel, is Erestor safe among the Wood Elves?"

"It is my hope that he will not come to harm there. He has made contact with Legolas and it is my understanding the two are…close," Glorfindel knew the seneschal's arrangement, but was nonetheless uncomfortable being the bearer of such tidings. He watched as the pair exchanged similar, brilliant devilish flashes of white teeth.

"That is a great relief!"

"We feared he was in the dungeons!"

Glorfindel could not help grinning a bit or overcome the sudden surge of envy that commandeered his heart for a moment.

"Nay, after much discussion and re-reading the official document, we have all decided, that is Galdor, Lindir and myself, that Thranduil has not the wish to punish Erestor so much as to humiliate Elrond.

"I do not wish to mislead you, however; Erestor stayed behind in one of the woodsmen's villages when Elrond left. He was with Radagast but the outcast prince had fled into the trees under great duress. It is my belief that Erestor would try and go after him."

"So he could be lost amid the wild darkness of that shadowed realm?" Dambethnîn trembled with her frustration and fear. "As soon as I am convinced he will not be imprisoned I must confront the threat of losing him to Mirkwood's curse!"

"Let us not hasten to that assumption, beloved," pleaded Orophin. "What prompted the Wood Elf's flight? Please do not withhold anything even if it may seem uncharitable toward our mate. We know Erestor well and while he is not perfect neither is he cruel. Whatever happened he would not have stayed behind under such impossible conditions unless he felt some responsibility and hoped to correct the misdeed, whether real or imagined."

Before Glorfindel could reply a brief rap came upon the door and Dambethnîn disengaged from her husband to answer it. She held open the door and invited Elladan and Elrohir inside.

"We are sorry for the intrusion, but feel the situation may be better understood if we all share what we have learned," said Elrohir, his voice coated with a bitter sadness that made the Lorien pair flinch and the Balrog slayer scowl.

"Aye, please join us," said Orophin and the twins looked around a moment before spying a couple of straight chairs abutting the wall, each supporting a completed canvas. They set those carefully aside and hefted the chairs up, plunking them down before the grate, and seated themselves. Elrohir straddled the chair with his arms across the back while Elladan took a more traditional posture.

"Please go on, Glorfindel. Do you understand what prompted the decision to go to Mirkwood?" Orophin asked.

"I do, yet I am forced to remain silent on the truth. The official response is that Elrond hoped to enlist Legolas as an informant regarding Thranduil's many possessions. He has long believed the Elven King harbours Isildur's Bane within his vaults, though the Sinda Lord is probably ignorant of possessing the malignant talisman."

Orophin inhaled a startled lungful. "I admit the idea has crossed my mind, but it is one I have feared to explore fully. I am not surprised Elrond would want to do so."

"You present a noble reason to employ subterfuge, therefore I must assume the truth is ignoble," spoke Dambethnîn sagely.

"My opinion on the matter is in concurrence with yours," continued Glorfindel with a cautious glance at Elrond's sons. They were frowning and silent and he suspected they were communicating internally. He realised that, for them to come seeking his counsel, their father had not been honest and this made his ire toward Elrond rise anew. Before he could express it the brothers reached accord and Elladan spoke.

"It is time to share what we surmise, then. Glorfindel, does your oath prevent you from confirming or denying our suppositions?"

"Nay, I am bound only to withhold revelation of personal information I have received either from Elrond's mouth or by witnessing the…behaviour."

"Very well," Elrohir sighed. "We have been told a most extraordinary tale. Adar said that Erestor is smitten with the fallen prince and remained in Mirkwood to be with him. He also said Legolas has entrapped Erestor into betraying our realm."

"That is a lie," Glorfindel was saddened and dismayed, his response low, laced with disappointment.

"He cannot believe that!" said Dambethnîn.

"I was inclined to find fault with the Woodland King, yet mayhap he has not over reacted after all. Elrond's disavowal of a kinsman is unheard of in our times. His indictment of my beloved is a personal affront," Orophin was obviously struggling to keep his remarks civil, understanding where the twins' loyalties must remain.

"We agree in all that you say and fear we already understand the truth," groaned Elladan. "It is Adar who is guilty of dishonourable conduct."

"Not toward Imladris directly but encompassing his family and Erestor," added Elrohir, "and Ningloriel's child. Is this close to the reality?"

"It is," said Glorfindel. "The Galadhrim asked me why Erestor remained in Mirkwood and it was due to an unintentional betrayal of his own. This I can explain without violating my vow, for it involves only our seneschal and the unfortunate silvan warrior. Erestor unwittingly unveiled a most disturbing secret to Legolas regarding his first love. It seems the elf in question was also Ningloriel's lover, and may be the outcast's own father."

Elrohir and Elladan gasped in shock, for some of this they had heard but under a different guise and with significant facts undisclosed.

"Adar told us Legolas left them, not that he was driven by such horrendous news. He intimated that the Wood Elf acted as a lure to draw Erestor into the stronghold, and that this is how Thranduil came to learn of the plot." Elladan's voice was cold and empty. Glorfindel just shook his head.

"It was his denouncement of Erestor that initiated our suspicion regarding Ada's story, yet never would I have conjured up such an abominable truth." Elrohir's words were choked with sorrow for the fate of the outcast. Elbereth! What kind of life has Legolas had?

"Aye, we could not believe Erestor capable of dissolving his bond," Elladan met Orophin's eyes. A most unwholesome one to be sure, and alien to us.

"I understand now why our Penraun is in Mirkwood. He unleashed this woe upon the former prince and hopes to help him survive the blow," Orophin whispered and Dambethnîn nodded. They were enmeshed within each other's arms and clung tightly together.

"We must go to Erestor, for he will think he is unworthy of our love lest we grant forgiveness. I will not have him maligned by his Lord from afar while suffering under severe self-recriminations, wondering what we will do," hissed Dambethnîn.

"Aye, we will go as quickly as we may," agreed her mate.

For several minutes the four elves ruminated in silence on the sad events engulfing them, filled with pity for Legolas and admiration for Erestor that grew in proportion to their mounting anger over Elrond's half-lies. Elladan and Elrohir now felt they needed to understand it all and were fast becoming gloomy and morose.

"There is more," Elladan spoke. "Though you have stated you cannot admit it, at least say 'yea or nay' to our summation." His face, a resolute contrivance of emotionless distance, projected the request to the re-born warrior, who inclined his head in assent.

"Ada said such vile things about Legolas. He is filled with rage and hatred, but more so with feelings he fears to admit," Elrohir's words ended with a choked swallow and Elladan rested a hand atop his brother's head, calmly stroking the ebony locks.

"He spoke of taking Legolas as his lover, and that Erestor has done so as well," the older twin took up the tale. "We have come to the conclusion that it is Adar who is obsessed with the outcast. What say you to that, Glorfindel?"

"I say that I am deeply saddened for you to have come to such realisation in this way. It was my hope that Elrond would unburden his soul openly to his sons." The proud warrior came close to tears to behold the undisguised anguish in the twins' eyes. To suspect was one thing but to have their fears confirmed was clearly a terrible shock. With it came complete comprehension of their father's downfall, and Glorfindel hated being the one to have inflicted the injury.

"I never thought I would see my father revealed a coward!" Elrohir let his fury burst out. "He should have told us, why did he not?"

"He fears to lose your love," answered Dambethnîn compassionately. "He was not intending for you to find out, much less to discover his secret this way."

"It matters not," Elrohir shook his head and got up, pacing the room, so much like Elrond in manner that Glorfindel's stomach wrenched. "All of it was a lie. He went there for Legolas, by his own words he admits this! He hoped only to possess the banished elf, withheld his true identity so Legolas would not realise who was seducing him." He could not seem to stop the words from streaming out of him. "They vied for him!" The loathing in his tone was mirrored in his twin's countenance.
I think I hate Ada just now!

Aye, but we love him also.

Elladan rose and joined Elrohir, halting his restless wandering. They found themselves before a small painting of their family, completed when they were little more than a century beyond majority and their mother was still with them. Celebrian and Arwen, then an elfling of but twenty-five, were seated on a divan, Elrond and the twins standing behind it. The Elf Lord had one hand resting on each son's shoulder, a proudly possessive touch.
Adar loves us, Elrohir.

The picture showed the trio to be of similar stature, equal in strength of body and mind, but the seneschal had somehow managed to put all the wisdom of the Ages lived into Elrond's grey eyes. There was no doubting who was Lord of Imladris. Yet Erestor had also captured that particular element of Melian's grace that filled the twins' and set them apart. It amazed Elladan to see this, for he was unable to detect it when he looked upon his reflection either in a glass or his brother's face.
Aye, but who is it, loving us? I thought I knew the soul within those eyes. This elf we speak of, this is not Ada, cannot be Ada.

"But they had to perceive that Legolas would suspect Elrond was his father!" gasped Orophin, for they understood the gossip surrounding the affair thoroughly. "Ningloriel complained to Galadriel bitterly concerning the King's accusations."

"Valar! He must see what was done to him now," spoke Dambethnîn. "No wonder Erestor feels so guilty! Ai! I am disappointed in Penraun."

"There is much to forgive if he willingly went along with such a deception," concurred her mate sadly. "The three of us long ago decided Elrond sired Legolas." This remark he directed to Glorfindel, who acknowledged it with a nod.

"We need to find Adar," spoke the older twin, hand firmly gripping the younger's shoulder to preclude his retreat from the room. You are right; this is not Ada we encounter now, but Elrond of Imladris. Nonetheless, we have already pledged our support.

"That was before we knew this treachery!" Elrohir snapped his answer aloud, and that more than any other indication demonstrated the depth of his distress. I cannot bear to look at his lying eyes quite yet. The brothers left through the open archways, striding swiftly across the sward.

Then you shall not. Elladan guided him toward the more rugged paths leading into the cliffs and under the falls.

"Will they be alright?" queried Orophin, watching them depart.

"I hope so. They are a great strength to one another, and have survived heart wounds before," answered the Balrog Slayer.

A strident staccato of knuckles on wood resounded through the room and this time Glorfindel answered, suspecting whom it might be.

"Here you are! I have had a difficult time figuring out where you had taken our guests, for you neglected to inform the steward." The Lord of Imladris stood on the threshold trying to project a sort of detached displeasure toward his Master-at-Arms but instead radiated wary uneasiness.

"Forgive me, Lord; I saw no need to disturb Nelhlûn (Bluebell)," Glorfindel returned to his chair, responding with the formal manner he had been compelled to adopt since being placed under the strain of his oath.

Elrond spared him a tight smile and a suggestion of a nod as he moved fully into the room gazing around aimlessly. His brows arched in mild surprise; he had not visited his seneschal's suite in many years, preferring to summon his comrade when needed, and had been unaware of the prolific talent now observed. Elrond's eyes came to rest upon Dambethnîn as his feet halted just outside the comfortable circle of the hearth and its furnishings.

"If these quarters are too painful for you, I will see that you are assigned whatever apartments please you," Elrond turned his sympathetic gaze upon Orophin, clasping his hands before him as he bowed his head sombrely.

"Nay, we are grateful to Glorfindel. This affords a closer connection to Erestor while we are parted," replied Dambethnîn with polite patience as Orophin struggled to hold his tongue and guard his features.

"I can see by your expressions that you have learned something of Erestor's activities," said Elrond nervously, trying to gauge the atmosphere in the room, which was certainly tense.

"We have," Orophin's terse response earned him a quick squeeze of his hand from Dambethnîn and close scrutiny from Rivendell's Lord.

"You have my deepest sympathies," Elrond intoned regally. "Had I imagined for one moment that Erestor would fall under the outcast's spell, never would I have demanded his accompaniment in the enterprise."

"Your sympathy is misplaced," sneered Orophin.

" Spell? Of what do you speak?" queried Dambethnîn brittley.

"Ah! I assumed Glorfindel had informed you. Forgive me for being the herald of such heartache! My seneschal has elected to remain in Mirkwood with the outcast."

"Yes, we know of this," Orophin's words were pitched dangerously low.

"Yet no mention of sorcery has been put forth. Are you telling us Erestor is not in control of his actions?" pressed Dambethnîn.

Elrond shot a swift look to Glorfindel but his glance was met with cool indifference as the Balrog Slayer declined to be included in any of his Lord's plots. The re-born Elda sat back and watched his old friend making an utter fool of himself and did absolutely nothing to deter it.

"I must assume some evil magic to be at work, for I cannot believe Erestor would choose to sunder his bond with you willingly," Elrond hesitantly ventured to say, eyes fixed on his Master-at-Arms.

"There is indeed evil at large for the Keeper of Vilya to vilify his kinsman's character," Orophin's words slithered through the air, a long curling tongue of fire burning away the false pleasantries, uncovering the rotten core of the Elf Lord's intent.

"That is not a thing to be spoken, even within these protected walls!" admonished Elrond sternly and bent his gaze upon the warden, for he was shocked at the implications of this statement. Glorfindel's first response had likewise been to encumber Vilya with blame.

"You dare slander my beloved?" Dambethnîn was beyond reasoning. "You, you Noldo! How dare you speak of Erestor's faults after what you have done? You do not deserve so fine a friend as Erestor, Elrond Half-Elven!"

"I will not be spoken to thus in my own home!" Elrond looked down upon her with imperious disdain. "You were charged to act as official escort, nothing more, and I owe no apologies to you!"

At that Dambethnîn jumped up and advanced upon her host rapidly until she was standing before him toe-to-toe, the fiery temper behind her nickname displayed in her gleam of outrage. The pair glared in silent challenge.

Behind her Orophin and Glorfindel rose also, but remained where they were for fear of making the situation worse.

"Perhaps that is so, and therefore no explanations will I demand," each sound fell from the Lorien inu's lips, icicles splintering on frozen stone. "Still, I do not retract what I have said. Whatever Erestor's part in this fiasco, yours is one hundred fold worse. Our bond-mate seeks to rectify his errors and thus he need not even ask for our pardon; it is already granted. To whom shall you go to seek forgiveness, Elrond?"

That these words made their mark upon his soul more surely and effectively than any blow could wound the body was evident in the Elf Lord's ghastly expression of incredulous astonishment. He stepped back a pace from the warden and broke his gaze from hers, seeking Glorfindel with open rancour.

"You have violated your oath!" his lips spoke this indictment but the shake of his head denied the words as though his heart already knew some other means had let events escape from his control.

"He has done nothing of the sort!" replied Orophin, incensed to hear the incrimination, before Glorfindel could answer.

"So is it a new habit for you, betraying old and trusted friends?" Dambethnîn ridiculed the High King's Herald. "You hid your sick designs from Galadriel as well. I am under no oath of loyalty to you nor shall I be willing to stay silent to protect you. I will be specific in my report to her upon my return."

"You insolent silvan! How dare you threaten me?" Elrond's voice was raised and his long index finger rose to hover near the warrior's nose. "Who are you to denounce my behaviour, keeping two lovers like some common human harlot!"

At this Dambethnîn's eyes grew wide and she inhaled sharply even as her hand lifted with lightening speed and landed a resounding slap across the Loremaster's cheek. She waited until he turned back from the force of the blow to face her and spat upon him.

Elrond retreated another step, a low growl issuing from his throat as he wiped away the spray of saliva.

"Daro!" shouted Orophin, at his mate's side in a second, an arm winding round her waist, the other hand outstretched before him as though deflecting the Elf Lord's menace. "Far, 'Beth! Do not allow his foul thoughts to infect you." He led her away until they stood before the painting of the seascape. He spoke again, addressing Elrond. "We will do our duty as we define it. That this must include narration of your disgraceful comportment is not the fault of Dambethnîn.

"Yet now you have put yourself within my hands, for your words have insulted the character of my beloved and exhibited your bigotry regarding my people, something you hid rather well previously. A debt you do owe to me and to Erestor for the wrong against our mate," so saying he paused, turning to pass his contemptuous inspection over the Lord he formerly revered as one among the wise.

The Lord of Imladris stared back; his mind swirling with the conflicting senses of affronted superiority and horrified remorse. Had he truly just spoken those words? Where was his dignity gone so suddenly? Ulmo's balls, I am not going to beg forgiveness of this common tree-dweller! He shook his head, hoping to clear it, and centuries of diplomatic training came to the fore. He stood straight and bowed formally, right hand pressed over his heart.

"You speak justly, Orophin of Lorien." Elrond said coolly and his eyes found Dambethnîn's. "Forgive my unspeakably coarse remarks, lady. I am not Namo and such matters must be left to his determination."

Dambethnîn's vision narrowed and only Orophin's hold kept her from repeating the earlier assault. This was nothing more than restating the slur while refusing to accept responsibility for making it.

"I will pardon your low words, Lord Elrond, but since you have not asked it of me, I withhold absolution for the insult, given now twice in as many moments."

"Get out," Orophin said bluntly. "Your debt to me remains." With that he led Dambethnîn away through the door to the bedroom, shutting it firmly behind him.

Elrond snorted in contempt and turned, striding over to his friend and councillor. "You have broken faith with me and with Manwë! Do you deny it?" he demanded vehemently and regretted it the next second.

For Glorfindel snatched him by the arms, shoving him toward the entrance roughly, his grip bruising and his glowering rage unchecked. He propelled Elrond through the open door with enough force to send the Elf Lord careening into the wall of the corridor.

"I am not the one betraying trusts this day!" seethed the Vanya noble. "Elladan and Elrohir have been here before you. All that you sought to conceal has been exposed. No patience will you find for further deceptions, not from me, nor from the Galadhrim, and most especially not from the twins!"

"My sons?" Elrond's eyes bulged in horror. "What do you mean? What do they know?"

"Everything. Why do you persist in this manner? I told you clearly how it must be, yet you insist on nursing your injured pride. I warned that I would not support you on such a path. Have you no regard for the harm your selfishness is inflicting on others?"

Elrond did not reply, allowing Glorfindel to take hold of his arm and lead him down the hall in the direction of his study. They proceeded in silence and the Noldo was consumed with heartbreak for the loss of his sons' respect. The reaction of the Galadhrim had been atrocious to endure, but to think of such an attitude directed upon him from Elladan and Elrohir was unbearable.

"What shall I say to them?" he whispered.

"Indeed," glowered Glorfindel, unmoved by these words, having heard them before and learned how easily the remorse generating them could vanish. They reached the Elf Lord's private chambers and only when they were inside did Glorfindel release him. Elrond rubbed his arm absently as he moved to roost in his customary perch by the fireside.

"You have made a terrible mistake, Elrond, and hurt them doubly. Elrohir was ready to leave Imladris. Can you imagine what he is feeling, having been lied to, distrusted, his filial devotion doubted and his honourable compassion for one more unfortunate than himself mocked? All this by his father. I am certain only Elladan's intervention thwarted his departure.

"Your eldest child is no less disturbed though he does not express it so openly. Elladan will be preoccupied with consoling Elrohir and Arwen so as to avoid dealing with you and his anger over this exposé. But why do you ask me for counsel? They are your sons! Tell me, Elrond, what words will you speak?"

The Lord of Imladris gave no response but sat with his head bowed low and his eyes downcast. He could not face his shame.

Glorfindel left him thus, seeking out Galdor and Lindir to arrange for the journey back to Lorien. The sooner the details were attended to the quicker Elrond would be gone from the valley, something the Balrog Slayer never thought he would be so eager to bring about. He almost wished he could be there to see Thranduil mete out justice. But for the immense pain this would cause Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen, Glorfindel would have found the image of Elrond's humiliation most satisfying.

Tbc
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