#too much a fan of Theon to say ward instead of hostage

[squirrelwrangler]

The captain of the Green Elves apologized once more to the twins. “The likeness with your uncles is truly uncanny. Your faces mirror those of Prince Eluréd and Elurín.”

“Nonsense,” one of the rangers interrupted. He shoved to the front of the huddle to stand beside his captain and point at Elros’s face. “Look at that weird little mole below this twin’s eye. That’s Tuor. Your grandfather had that same mark, like a tear.”

The last name that Elros or Elrond expected to hear was that of their mortal paternal grandfather, and a barrage of questions swelled up to replace everything that they had initially planned to ask their rescuers. The ranger from the north buckled under the weight of the twins’ demanding questions about Grandfather Tuor and Great-Grandmother Rían and living with Great-Grandfather Annael. Elros kept touching his mole reverently, and Elrond felt jealous that they were not identical twins. To placate himself, he pointed out various moles and freckles on his arms and one on his chest, asking the captain if any matched those of Grandfather Dior or Great-grandfather Beren.