Characters/Pairing: Elrond, Celeborn, Eluréd, Elurín
Disclaimer: Tolkien's the genius, not me.
The hunters only laughed when Elrond asked--again--for their names, vanishing wraithlike into the shadows under the trees, as though they wore copies of Lúthien's black dream-cloak, leaving him standing alone with his frustration and questions.
Celeborn only shrugged when Elrond told him about it. "I'm half-convinced they're Maiar grown bored in the Undying Lands," Elrond muttered, "or kin to Iarwain Ben-adar."
"I don't doubt they know him." Celeborn smiled. "And I think--" He stopped, expression turning almost wistful.
"What? Do you know who they are?"
He shrugged again, and turned his gaze toward Eärendil's star. "Impossible ghosts."
They blew back to Imladris with the first white-out snowstorm, rolling their eyes at Elrond's fumbled greeting. "Those who call you wise must be mistaken; it cannot take so much wisdom to recognize your own uncles!"
Elrond opened his mouth to protest--Eärendil had no brothers--before he recalled the tales of Doriath, and shut it again. "But you--"
"Of the fate of Eluréd and Elurín no tale tells," intoned the second twin, before thrusting a bottle of wine into Elrond's hands. "Oropher sends his regards."
Impossible ghosts indeed. Smiling, Elrond took the wine. "Welcome back to Imladris, uncles."