*****Rivendell*****
Elladan looked at the hobbit for a moment, astonished and impressed.
“Wisdom in youth,” he said, a smile breaking over his face. Orlo was beginning to conclude that Elladan’s moods were no more serious than weather in spring, and no less susceptible to the effects of sudden small breezes. “It belongs most to those who bicker with nobody, does it not? And Elrohir and I are simply responding to what doesn’t matter, are we not?”
“They’re very insulting,” muttered Elrohir darkly. “I’ve sacrificed nobody.”
Well, this was a hopeless case, and there was no use in Elladan saying more to him, but all that was really required, he reflected optimistically, was that his brother remember his manners at the Audience. He turned back to Orlo.
“Consider this as a career,” he advised, before the conversation turned definitively back to the hopes and problems of dwarves and hobbits.
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"I hate dignity," cried Scraps, kicking a pebble high in the air and then trying to catch it as it fell. "Half the fools and all the wise folks are dignified, and I'm neither the one nor the other." --L. Frank Baum
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