Arwen’s Birth Day

by Jay of Lasgalen  

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“Will you pass me the wine please, El?  Thank you.”

Elladan passed the bottle of wine to his brother, who refilled both their glasses.  Taking a sip, he lay back against the grass, gazing upwards at the night.   Another burst of fireworks arched across the sky, fountains of gold and silver fire drifting silently downward.

Beside him, Elrohir raised his glass.  “To our beautiful new sister,” he said proudly.   “I wonder if they did this when we were born?”

Elladan sat up, touching his glass against his twin’s.  “One hundred and eleven years ago,” he mused.  He took a bite of the Birth Day cake, baked in celebration.  “To Arwen,” he repeated.