EP - Elrond, age 8

[starrydome]

The door opens and closes quietly.
The child, a skinny boy of indeterminate age, looks around.

He recognizes this place. And the recognition allows him to relax a little.
Time doesn't pass while he is here. And "here" is warm and nice compared to a Winter cold stone keep.

He is dressed in grey wool, a tunic, leggins, and leather shoes and his long, black hair is tightly braided. He is eight and although he is hungry (he is always hungry, they all are) he is now old enough to ignore that in favor of exploring. Because he is curious.


{ooc: have a baby!Elrond over the weekend}

Comments

[dont_mention_the_tips]

There is a young man sitting at a nearby table studying a book. He doesn't look very happy to be doing it either. The book, you see is in the language of the Stors, who are Gnomes, and he can speak it and read it to an extent, but studying a book on healing written in it is difficult.

Also, his ears are pointed, but probably not as pointed as someone who is only Half Elf, at leas in his world.

"Oh come on! That doesn't make any sense!" He shouts at the book before slamming it shut to take a break.

[starrydome]

The boy starts at the loud noise and takes a step to the side, effectively putting a chair between himself and the agitated young -

He takes in his appearance.
And his ears.

[dont_mention_the_tips]

Wil rubbed the heals of his hands into his eyes. Muttering about words and language and syntax that made no logical sense.

When he finally looks around he notices the boy.

"Uh, hi."

[starrydome]

"Hello."

He sounds even more cautious than he looks.

His eyes are large, and his ears are very visible. And very much shaped like leaves.

[dont_mention_the_tips]

Wil takes note of the ears and he smiles.

"Can I help you?"


He pushes some blond hair behind his ears.

[starrydome]

The boy shrugs.

Then he asks, "What are you? "
It's rude.
But he can't help himself.

[dont_mention_the_tips]

Wil grinned at the boy.

"Well, my grandfather is an Elf," he says, "That would make me one fourth Elf on my father's side. That's why my ears don't look the same to other Elfs in my world."

[starrydome]

"Who's your grandfather?"

He may sound a little suspicious. After all, he is certain he knows of all liaisons between Elves and Men.

[dont_mention_the_tips]

"Shea Ohmsford," says Wil, "Him and my Uncle Flick run an inn in Shady Vale. Where are you from?"

[not_his_pa]

After his talk with Jim, William went to get a paper from a bigger part of the country of his time to understand what else he might try doing. He's reading and drinking coffee with a plate of biscuits near him.

When the little boy enters, he sits up and says, "Hello, are you lookin' for someone?"

[starrydome]

He shakes his head.
".. no. I - no."

He crosses his arms in front of himself.

[not_his_pa]

"Alright, I'm William. If you're cold, the fire's nice and there are fish in it,"

He doesn't like to see how cold and unhappy this child seems.

[starrydome]

"How can there be fish in the fire?" Elrond asks, walking closer, his reservations overruled by his curiosity.


{ooc: bedtime}

[not_his_pa]

(OOC: Sleep well.)

"Because its magic. They like it," A fish swims by, its fins shimmering through the fire.

[starrydome]

The boy is facinated and forgets his apprehension as he steps even closer.
"It's beautiful."

[not_his_pa]

"It is. Watch what happens when you wave to them,"

He reaches his out out and moves it near the fire and one of the fish comes over to investigate.

[starrydome]

"Oh."

The boy reaches out a hand as well. It is fine-boned, but calloused.

[gondolin_noble]

There's a golden-haired elf playing an idle, wandering melody on a travel harp. He is nearly sprawled on the couch (the couch is best, it really is, it's the one thing men have gotten absolutely correct), the gems braided into his hair sparking in the light of the fire.

He looks positively indolent, truly.

Just as if he didn't know the moment Elrond walked through the door, his sharp eyes marking the elfling's progress.

[starrydome]

He moves slowly and cautiously from the door and further into the room, paying close attention to all the ways in which one might escape, should the need arise. And all the ways in which one might be taken by surprise.

He hears the harp and spots the player roughly simultaneously.

He remembers him. An elf of Gondolin.


He was kind.


So Elrond makes his way toward the couch. In a rather roundabout fashion. Mindful to stay as unobtrusive to everyone else as he can.

[gondolin_noble]

"Is there a troll lurking behind me?" Glorfindel asks, amusement lurking behind his faux-serious tone. He does not contemplate doing mortal harm to Feanor's sons for causing his future lord to be so shy... but he does fantasize about punching them.

Frequently.

It's an absorbing fantasy.

[starrydome]

"... no," the boy asks, stepping closer.

"What are you playing?"

He is honestly curious. And he feels safe here. In the magical place and next to the blond warrior.

[gondolin_noble]

Glorfindel raises an elegantly arched eyebrow at the child.

"I know the poor thing is barely adequate, but surely you recognize a harp when you see one." Who is it, do you think, who allowed the Imladris border patrol to harass and tease travelers?

[starrydome]

The boy raises an eyebrow right back at him.
"And as we both know that, the question pertains to the music performed thereupon, not the nature of the instrument."


Someone was a little more sarcastic once.

[gondolin_noble]

"You presume much, for one so small." Glorfindel notes, not rising to the bait. "Do you always hope that your intentions will be understood?"

[starrydome]

"I am not little. And I don't expect them to be."
That leaves room for far less disappointment. Hope is for the stars.