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“Don’t make me come up there!” Maedhros shouted, shaking one of the lower branches of the mighty river birch tree.
Two red-haired boys clung to the thinner branches high above the ground. Their only answer to their brother’s demand were snickers and a well-aimed acorn. The hard nut bounced off Maedhros' head with a dull thud and collided with Maglor’s face on its way to the ground.
Maglor rubbed his cheek. “Careful with those!” He called up to the twelve-year-old twins.
“Sorry,” one of them said.
“We only meant to hit Mimo, promise,” said the other.
Maedhros shook the tree again, making the boys cling to their perches. “I swear I will pull you down if you don’t come down!”
Arms locked securely around his branch and giving no sign of letting go anytime soon, one of the twins cackled, “Bet you can’t climb all the way up here!”
Maglor raised an eyebrow at his massive brother. “They have you there. Maybe next time, don’t start with a threat like that?”
Maedhros shook the tree once more for good measure and then stepped back. “The day I can’t climb a tree is the day I die.” Clearly, he knew he’d backed himself into a corner this time. His only option now was to follow through with the threat.
The black-haired brother craned his neck to look way up the tree. “Falling from their height would probably do that.”
Maedhros rolled his shoulders and then grabbed the highest branch he could reach. It bent under his weight as he pulled himself up. He got his feet onto a lower branch, which also bent slightly under him even though he stood on the thickest part closest to the trunk, then looked for another suitable spot. The twins gasped audibly and scurried a few feet up the tree to where even their slight weight made the branches shake.
Maglor jumped forward and wrapped his thin fingers around his brother’s ankle. “I’m serious,” he said quickly. “You cannot climb up there. They’ll just have to stay and miss supper. Ma made pie and she’ll give us their helpings if they aren’t there.” He said the last part loud enough for the boys to hear.
They gasped again, this time in indignation, and threw a few acorns again to protest the suggestion that their brothers might eat their pie, even though that generally was the rule around the homestead: if you don’t show up for a meal, your brothers will eat your food.
Maglor ducked out of the way of the falling projectiles, but Maedhros was too busy deciding if the branch he picked was trustworthy (it wasn’t) to do more than turn his face away from the worst of the onslaught. Four acorns bounced off his back. The next branch he tried seemed strong enough, but it creaked and groaned ominously as soon as he began to lift himself onto it.
“I’m serious, get down.” Maglor admonished, keeping a firm grip on his ankle.
Maedhros resigned himself to the fact that he could perhaps not climb this particular tree as the branch began to crack. Reluctantly, he eased himself down, Maglor darting out of his way.
The twins cackled, throwing more acorns to celebrate their victory in a most ungracious fashion.
A particularly heavy acorn hit the tip of Maglor’s left ear. He clapped a hand over the stinging skin and glared up at his little brothers. “That’s it,” he muttered.
Amrod and Amras stopped throwing nuts when they realized Maglor was quickly climbing the tree. With shrieks of mixed delight and terror, they scrambled around to the other side of the trunk and began a hasty descent into Maedhros’ waiting arms.