So just what mischief and mayhem have Glorfindel and the twins gotten up to together?
This morning, I awoke with troubling news: Glorfindel had used Eredinβs cocoa without permission. A grave crime, of course, but I had initially believed it to be mere thoughtlessnessβGlorfindel being Glorfindel, oblivious to the sacred nature of my dear scribeβs cocoa stash.
But no.
It was not mere negligence. It was not an accident.
It was a conspiracy.
For Glorfindel did not simply take a portion of cocoa. He did not borrow a small amount with the intent to return it. No, he seized what little remainedβthe very last of itβand shared it with his sparring group, which, of course, included Elrohir and Elladan.
I now understand why the twins were so animated at breakfast. Why they were practically glowing.
They had been caffeinated on stolen goods. They had been accessories to the crime.
Eredin, poor soul, had been left without cocoa, forced to endure the morning in misery.
I found him in the kitchens, staring at an empty container as if mourning the loss of a dear friend. His hands trembled. His breath was shallow. The betrayal cut deep.
Glorfindel, meanwhile, was positively beamingβsmug in his victory, no doubt believing himself untouchable.
He is not untouchable.
Retribution is coming.
And worse stillβhe has passed down his lawless ways to the next generation. Elrohir and Elladan, once innocent young elves with potential for greatness, have been corrupted. They stand at his side now, laughing, reveling in their crimes, emboldened by his teachings.
He has trained them in the art of mayhem.
This is no longer just about cocoa. This is about stopping the cycle of chaos before it is too late.
