The Apple Tree (I18)
Mar. 6th, 2012 03:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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b2memFormat: Ficlet
Title: The Apple Tree
Genre: General
Rating: General
Warnings: None
Characters: Elladan, Elrohir
Pairing: None
Summary: Elladan and Elrohir recall a long-ago accident.
The Apple Tree
From the top of the hill they could look down into the valley. They stopped beneath an ancient apple tree, its limbs gnarled and twisted but still laden with apples. Imladris lay below them, the house slumbering comfortably in the afternoon sunlight.
Elrohir leaned back against the trunk, his eyes half-closed. It was peaceful here, the only sounds the pure trill of a skylark somewhere far above and a faint, distant clang of the smith's hammer. He scratched at an old, faded scar on his shoulder absently, then looked up as he felt Elladan watching him.
“Do you remember when we came here once before?”
“How could I forget? It was rather … memorable.”
Elladan only grunted. He picked up a windfall apple and bit into it, then regarded it thoughtfully. “This tree was not there then. Do you think it grew from that apple?”
“It’s possible. I was not really paying much attention at the time to notice what happened to it afterwards.”
Elladan flushed. “No, but …”
Elrohir sat up straighter. “El, forget it,” he insisted. “It does not matter. It was a long time ago, and is over and done with.”
“We lied to father. I still feel bad about that,” Elladan admitted.
“We were not wholly honest. There’s a difference.” Nonetheless, Elrohir fidgeted uncomfortably at the memory. "He assumed at first that I must have fallen against a sharp branch. We just … said nothing to contradict that."
“But you know he didn’t believe us!”
Elrohir regarded his brother with exasperation. “Well, what were we supposed to tell him? That we were drunk on Glorfindel’s brandy and decided to re-enact that old dwarvish folk tale he told us about the dwarf who was forced to slice through an apple on his son’s head using a throwing axe? That we did not have an axe to hand, so you decided to use a bow and arrow instead? That you shot me?"
“Glorfindel guessed.”
“Well, of course he did. He always seemed to know what we were up to, and anyway, he told us the story in the first place! But as I recall, he was more concerned about the disappearance of his brandy,” Elrohir retorted.
“He was furious with me.” Elladan shook his head at the memory of Glorfindel’s incandescent fury and his blistering reprimand. “You were safely in the infirmary, but he said that I was a disgrace to my training and to his teaching.”
“Why? Because we stole the brandy, or because you nearly killed me?”
“Neither. Because I missed my shot!”
~ The End ~
Author’s Notes: I have no idea how it happened, but somehow William Tell appeared from nowhere and hijacked this story!
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