"Dearest, there is a flamingo wandering the halls."
"Yes, I know."
Celebrian prodded the inside of her mouth with her tongue, something she only did when she was on edge or a bit nervous. Usually this occurred most often just before her seemingly practical husband answered in an impractical manner to a question she had yet to ask. "Why is there a flamingo wandering the halls?"
Elrond looked up from his eggs and toast as if he thought the question to be quite odd. "Why wouldn’t a flamingo be wandering the halls?"
Celebrian chewed on the inside of her cheek, something that almost never occurred, except when said seemingly practical husband tried to avoid answering questions in an impractical manner by attempting to avoid them completely. Her sons were also quite familiar with the technique, and often tried to use it, but it took little more than a steady stare, no doubt inherited from her mother, to stop the twins. With Elrond, such things were not so easily managed. "Well there wouldn’t be a flamingo wandering the halls if Haldir hadn’t put it there in the first place."
"Precisely." Back to the eggs and toast.
"You’re just going to let it wander around? Who’s going to clean up after it? Where is it going to sleep?" questioned Celebrian.
"It slept just fine last night in your parents’ room, it appears it knows to go out on the beach when it must find things to eat or to conduct its business, and it is called Mitzi."
Celebrian took a few deep breaths, stifling the sudden urge to scream. "You named the flamingo."
"That I did. It is my house, and it was my birthday, and so I named the flamingo."
Celebrian closed her eyes, pushing back her chair. She slammed her napkin onto the tabletop, and although it made little noise, Elrond feigned surprise and did a bit of a hop in his seat for theatrics. "Something wrong, my lady wife?"
"Not a thing, my lord husband, not a thing," she said, rather unconvincingly through clenched teeth. "If you would but excuse me."
"You need not ask my pardon, dearest." Elrond glanced at Celebrian’s plate. "Are you returning? Your meal is untouched."
"We shall see. I must have a word with my brother at the moment."
"Which one?" asked Elrond. "You have so many, it is difficult to keep track of them."
"The flamingo herder."
"Ah. Please, give Haldir my regards." Elrond continued to eat his breakfast as Celebrian pushed the door open and left.
It was not long before the door once again opened. "Couldn’t find him, dear?"
"Depends, sweetheart," answered a voice lower than Celebrian’s. "Who was I looking for?"
Elrond truly did jump upon his chair this time, and resisted his urge to stick his tongue out at the intruder as he had oft seen many others in his house do. "I thought you were Celebrian. My apology."
Haldir quirked a brow. "I knew there was some family resemblance, but it was usually Rumil whom could convincingly wear a dress and look the part of an elleth." He walked to the pantry, retrieving the pitcher of milk. Soon, he was sitting across from Elrond in his sister’s former place.
The peredhil looked at Haldir oddly. "For what purpose was Rumil ever wearing a dress?"
Haldir grinned, but did not say. He slowly drank from his glass, careful not to spill any with the smirk he still wore. Elrond opened his mouth, thinking to press the issue, but then a most wonderful idea came to him.
Throughout the entire night, he had been formulating his plot against Haldir. His biggest problem was that even with the house being his, if he had to guess where loyalties were to lie, the majority would side with the smug blond elf sitting across the table from him. For whatever reason, his cocky attitude made him likable. Elrond had to admit; Haldir was a pleasant addition to the house. However, that didn’t make up for the fact he had awoken to more than a dozen flamingos in his house, not to mention all of the ones on the lawn.
If, however, there were certain things that the others didn’t want revealed, such might convince them to help out when the time came. Rumil in a dress. Haldir still wasn’t saying anything, although he was looking a bit uneasy now. Which gave him yet another idea.
"Something wrong, mellon?"
"No..." Haldir narrowed his eyes. Elrond calling him friend was a strange thing. Both ‘brother’ and ‘young one’ he had grown accustomed to, but not ‘friend’.
Elrond said nothing more, letting his eyes look back down at his plate. When he knew Haldir was still watching but pretending not to, Elrond let himself glance to the milk pitcher. Haldir followed the gaze, eyes further narrowed as he sniffed at his glass of milk.
Elrond looked at him, showing great concern. "You look troubled."
"Should I be?" Haldir pulled the pitcher over, and looked over the top into the ceramic container. "Alright, what did you do to it?"
"I? Nothing." Elrond looked astonished. "Your imagination, Haldir, I must say." But he didn’t say. He bit into his toast, chewing as he watched Haldir continue to examine both his glass and the pitcher.
"Did you put something into it? Let it sit out to spoil?"
"How absurd, that you would think I would do such a thing simply to put you ill at ease, Haldir." Elrond bit into his toast again, and this time, as he chewed, was unable to keep his lips from curling into a shrewd smile.
Haldir rolled his eyes as if he was not sitting across from a great elf lord, but a mischievous elfling. Picking up his glass, he made his way across the room to the slop bucket in the corner used to gather scraps for the few animals that were kept in the vicinity of the First Homely House.
"Haldir, what are you doing?" Haldir looked up in alarm from where he was upon hearing Celebrian’s scolding voice.
"I was... I am... " Haldir held up his glass. "I was uncertain about the milk."
Celebrian clucked at him. "The milk is fine, O finicky one. The goat was milked just this morning. The pitcher is fresh. I believe the twins were the ones to do so, I could ask them if you are still unsure."
"Actually," spoke up Elrond, "I did the milking this morning. It is indeed fresh."
Behind Celebrian’s back, Haldir’s eyes widened, as all of the possibilities came to his mind of what could have been done to the liquid in his glass. He blinked the look away as his sister turned to address him. "There, you see? Now, you’ve had half the glass already and you’ll drink the rest there. I won’t see it wasted." At the table, Elrond was now grinning like mad at Haldir, who had no choice but to painstakingly drink every last drop from the glass.
"See, now, you silly elf. It didn’t kill you, did it?" Celebrian sat herself back at the table, where Elrond resumed his composure.
"Not yet, it hasn’t," mumbled Haldir, setting the empty glass in the bin to be washed.
"Join us for breakfast?" offered Elrond, motioning to the bowl of scrambled eggs with mushroom.
"I believe I have had quite enough this morning, thank you, mellon." Haldir nodded to his sister and brother-in-law as he left the room.
"What was all that about?" questioned Celebrian. Elrond shrugged. "He surely acts strange some days."
"Shock of war," said Elrond matter-of-factly. "I was myself affected after the Last Alliance, I can only imagine the troubles poor Haldir has. Didn’t you wish to speak with him?" he added.
"I thought I was going to have to," said Celebrian, "but I spoke with mother."
"And?"
Celebrian sighed, buttering her now cold toast. "And she told me she was the one who wanted to keep the flamingo. Elrond nodded, returning to his breakfast. Celebrian paused for a bit, simply eating, and enjoying the company of her husband, going so far as to capture his attention by sliding her slippered foot slowly up his thigh. He briefly glanced at her with a half-hidden smile as if she were merely a naughty young elleth that he was not about to scold.
Elrond navigated one hand under the table to capture her wandering foot, kneading it but keeping it a safe distance away as he used his other hand to finish his breakfast. Celebrian frowned and began concentrating once again on her own breakfast, tongue in cheek between bites.
"Mitzi?"
Elrond looked up abruptly. "Did you just call me Mitzi?"
"No, silly elf, the flamingo." Celebrian chewed at the inside of her cheek. "Why Mitzi?"
Elrond looked at her in disbelief, as if it was the most common name of the Fourth Age. "Why not?"
Rumil chose that moment to come into the room, pausing to say his greetings, and then sat down, helping himself to some of the egg and mushroom mix. After fetching a glass, he poured a rather tall glass of milk, laughing with Celebrian regarding the previous day’s events.
As Celebrian finished her meal, Elrond decided to help himself to another serving. As soon as his wife left the room, Elrond tried to think of the best way to approach Rumil about helping him. True, he might be able to enlist him without the use of blackmail. Rumil, though not so much as Orophin, was still a bit of a rogue himself. Likely, any plan to trick or trap one of his brothers in an odd and silly situation was something Rumil would partake in. But having the advantage of knowing something Rumil wouldn’t want revealed, that would make things all the more easy.
Rumil stood up, carrying the pitcher to the pantry. "Are you well, Lord Elrond?" Rumil, long the pupil of Elrond, and ever still learning things from his mentor, hardly felt at ease calling him less than with full title. Elrond shook his head at the young elf, and Rumil gave a smile before heading into the pantry.
Elrond shook his head. He just didn’t feel right about doing such an underhanded thing to sweet little Rumil, little Rumil whom he had once even held in his arms as he had done with his own sons. Rumil, who hadn’t, to his knowledge, ever tried such stunts as filling his saddlebags with honey or putting leeches in his drinking water, feats the older brothers had indeed attempted. It was the kind of thing Haldir or Orophin would do, but not he. He would not be the one to upset poor Rumil.
Rumil reemerged. The pitcher was gone, but he was still holding his glass, full again with the goat milk. "You seem deep in thought, my Lord," Rumil said cheerfully.
"That I am," Elrond said sadly, his eyes focused on Rumil with a look of pity.
Rumil crinkled his brow. "If I might guess, it appears you are thinking of something to do with me."
"It is... it is nothing, really," Elrond said, waving it off. "Something Haldir mentioned this morning at breakfast, and I am of a mind to forget it."
Rumil’s face darkened. "What did Haldir say?"
"Please, Rumil..."
"What did he say?" demanded Rumil.
Elrond folded his hands before him, sighing in the same manner as someone about to hand down sentence. "He... mentioned the, ah, the dress incident."
Rumil’s mouth gaped wide open, as did his eyes, but the biggest show of shock was in the fact that the glass of milk had dropped from his hand. The pieces lay shattered at his feet and the floor was splashed white. Elrond grabbed up a couple of the cloth napkins from the table and headed for Rumil.
"I am terribly, terribly sorry, Rumil," said Elrond, mopping at the mess.
"He promised he wouldn’t tell a single soul!" Rumil gathered up the shards from the floor. "He promised and Oro promised, but I always expected Oro to say something, but never in all the world Halli. Stupid elf," Rumil muttered, setting the pieces onto the counter. "I only did it because of him, he wanted to know how to make lembas, and he’s not much like an elleth that he could have tried to sneak in to find out. He's not even much like an elf, sometimes, that orc!" fumed Rumil, stooping back down to clean up the floor. His lip was quivering, and Elrond saw now that he had been ranting in an attempt to cover up the few stray tears.
"Oh, Rumil, I am really, terribly, and truly sorry." Elrond stopped his attempt to sop up the milk and reached out to give Rumil a hug. He couldn’t believe now he’d even thought to say the words he had said. It would have been simpler just to ask for his assistance, and he was certain he would have received it. "Rumil, I have to admit, I knew not what the incident was, only the part about the dress. I did in fact deceive you, I admit."
Rumil wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his tunic. "Did he tell you, though? Was it Haldir?"
Elrond nodded slowly.
"Then he broke his promise," Rumil said simply. He completed the task of cleaning up the floor, and then turned to Elrond. "You want to get back at him and you thought that would help me to help you."
Elrond bowed his head in shame.
Rumil couldn’t help but smile a little. "Orophin did that all the time to get me to help him do things to Haldir. Celebrian even used that tactic. Worked most of the time, too." Rumil contemplated the soaked napkin for a moment. "Looks like it still works."
Elrond shook his head. "No, this was wrong of me. I do not expect you to assist me in my revenge."
Rumil grinned. "I would be most aggrieved if you were not to allow me to aid in any way possible." He tossed the damp cloth onto the counter, slinging his arm around Elrond’s shoulder. "But first, I must have your word that you will not attempt to seek vengeance against me."
Elrond nodded. "Of course."
"Excellent." Rumil’s smile broadened. "I think the next one we need to enlist is Nana. She is not one we want on his side when we begin to plot." Elrond nodded again. "And there are so many things we can blackmail her with, trust me upon this. This time, however, you will have to stand your ground. You caved in much too easily with me."
Elrond furrowed his brow. "You mean to say that was all an act?"
"Not in the least," said Rumil, a little hurt, "but you still gave in much too easily. We can not go soft on her," warned Rumil.
"Why, Rumil," laughed Elrond, "you are quite slyer than I ever would have imagined."
A light twinkled in Rumil’s eyes. "Who do you think it was that came up with the flamingo idea in the first place?"
