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*Title: Rumors

*Author: Minuial Nuwing

*Contact: minuial_nuwing@yahoo.com

*Website: First Light – http://community.livejournal.com/first_light/profile

*Update list: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/first_light_reflected/

*Fandom: JRR Tolkien

*Characters: Elladan, Elrohir, Estel

*Type: FPGen

*Prompt: 49 - They awoke together, hand in hand. (50passages) ~*~*~ 022- Enemies (fanfic100)

*Word Count: 200

*Rating: PG for suggestive snark

*Summary: Estel saves the day and ignites eons of gossip. Maybe.

*Disclaimer: Only the quirks and perversions are mine. Everything else belongs to the creator-god of Middle-earth, J.R.R. Tolkien. I am awed by his gifts and humbled by his vision. I promise to clean them all up and return them with smiles on their faces when I am done playing.

*A/N: Finally – the 50passages challenge is complete! **confetti and elves on parade** The quotes were great fun to work with and have produced some of my own picks of my work, but I am so glad to see it done. Thanks to my dearest fimbrethiel for her contributions and to everyone who has read and supported the effort. **hugs**


The air was thick with the screams of the dying and the trumpeting of elephants, the stones underfoot awash in blood both black and red. Elladan swung his fouled sword in a practiced, deadly arc, the movement against his back assuring him that Elrohir mirrored his strike, and he allowed himself a grim smile.

Then the ground seemed to give way and the world was dark.

They awoke together, hand in hand, to the sweet smell of athelas and the smiling face of a king. Elrohir shifted, feeling Elladan’s body pressed close to his side, then arched one eyebrow at their savior. “This is a bit disturbing, Estel,” he chided. “We have not shared a bed in centuries.”

“You will,” Elladan agreed ominously, “soon be hearing rumors about the strange ways of elves.”

Aragorn chuckled, relieved by the familiarity of the ribbing. “If you care to choose a new bed partner, I will be glad to have you moved,” he retorted, nodding at the overflowing ward, where the less grievously injured were stacked like cordwood in the narrow beds.

Elrohir looked around, tightening his fingers over Elladan’s hand. “I believe,” he told Aragorn blandly, “that we will risk the rumors.”


The Seriously Huge Table