" `Quickly and with accuracy, he put an arrow into his target and drew another from his quiver. The Grey Archer caught sight of his quarry and let go his hold upon the string of his bow.' " Elladan flipped to the next page quickly, then peeked out from where he hid with Elrohir, making sure no one had come in to the bedroom he shared with his brother. Elrohir prodded him impatiently at the pause.
"If you're not going to do it, I'll read!" hissed Elrohir, pulling the folded parchment closer. " `Between the trees, the Grey Archer spotted his prey once again, and yet, it failed to cease it's movement. His interest captured, the Grey Archer shimmied down the tree to get a better look at his would-be kill. Knives now replaced bow, and the Grey Archer crept through the underbrush, hoping to close in without the rogue warg noticing him.' "
The twins stared at the pictures that accompanied the text, each in their own ornate frame, showing the Grey Archer's decent from the trees. The candle was beginning to dim – they had been beneath the bed reading for the better part of an hour, but only as they had decided to read the previous Grey Archer booklet before delving into the newest one that they had found tucked under the pillow of Elladan's bed.
"Let me again," insisted Elladan as the page was turned. "Oh, it's HIM. You read for HIM, I want to do the part of the Grey Archer!"
"You've been the Grey Archer all night, Elladan, allow me a chance!" pouted Elrohir. Elladan conceded, sliding the pages closer to Elrohir. "Before the blades of the Grey Archer could be put to use, he was disarmed by a cloaked elf. Upon the ground the dead warg twitched and groaned as death took it." Elrohir swallowed, then in his boldest voice, continued. " `So, I see you have come to make the kill.' "
" `I have come to keep you from being killed, young one. You should know not to wander into the forest thus. The Lord must be alerted to your disobedience.' "
" `I have sworn myself to protect my Lord. Is it disobedient, then, to hunt down such creatures as would threaten my Lord?' " Elrohir continued, in a much subdued voice, "The Cloaked Stranger came closer to the Grey Archer, sheathing his knives as he lifted his hands to his hood."
Quickly, two pairs of hands anxiously tore at the next page, whisking it out of the way in great excitement. " `If you truly wish to protect your Lord, perhaps then the time has come for you to join me upon that endeavor…' " Again, they scrambled to turn the page, and both gasped.
" `…my brother.' !" read Elladan, eyes and mouth wide open.
"I never saw that coming!" Elrohir exclaimed.
"Neither did I. I did not realize…I thought the Cloaked Stranger was a villain…"
"He is a villain!" Elrohir reminded his brother. "Remember in the pages from two years ago, remember when-" Elrohir stopped, hearing steps coming from the hall. "Erestor! He heard us! Quick, hide! Hide the book!"
Elladan blew out the candle, fanning the wisp of smoke that rose from it while Elrohir scurried to a large deerskin upon the floor, sliding the parchment beneath it, and leaping into bed before the door opened.
- - -
Outside, under the window on a little used ledge, Rumil sighed as he heard the door creak open. He had hoped to hear the entirety of the past week's labors. With little less than a month before his eminent departure back to the Golden Wood, he would no longer have the opportunity to sketch the adventures of the Grey Archer between lessons here in Rivendell with Master Erestor and Lord Glorfindel.
Perhaps he could still find time, he thought, as he slipped down the side of the Last Homely House to his own room below. During lulls in border patrol, on days when he was stationed in the city, he could sketch panels here and there. But none would read the tales with such passion, or such enjoyment, as the twins. Rumil would still be able to slip the stories in with packages to Rivendell for them to read – but no. Master Erestor had made it perfectly clear to one night at dinner that such use of parchment was wasteful. Besides, part of the fun had been the mystery – neither elfling had any idea who was writing and drawing the adventures, or who the Grey Archer and Cloaked Stranger really were.
"Such a pity it has to end." Rumil slumped into a chair once back in his room. There had to be some way to keep the adventure going.
