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starrydome) wrote in
milliways_bar2022-09-24 06:22 pm
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Entry tags:
EP - baby!elrond - age 8 (almost)
Fall means mushrooms and berries and meat, even in the cold Keep where the remaining Sons of Fëanor have made their home.
So while the child that slips through the door is still pale and thin, his first thought isn't to sneak up to the magical lady (who looks like just an only shaped table of sorts) and ask for food.
Instead he makes his way over to the soft seating in front of the fireplace where the magical fish live.
They're still there.
He smiles at them. A small, soft smile.
If fish can live in fire, so can the Peredhil live with the Kinslayers a while.
He is dressed in a tunic that is clearly meant for a bigger person and leggins that are a little too short in the legs. His wrists and face bear faded bruises (food gathering and sparring will get you those) but his hands are clean and his hair is neatly braided.
He looks around, his eyes big and bright and cautious.
So while the child that slips through the door is still pale and thin, his first thought isn't to sneak up to the magical lady (who looks like just an only shaped table of sorts) and ask for food.
Instead he makes his way over to the soft seating in front of the fireplace where the magical fish live.
They're still there.
He smiles at them. A small, soft smile.
If fish can live in fire, so can the Peredhil live with the Kinslayers a while.
He is dressed in a tunic that is clearly meant for a bigger person and leggins that are a little too short in the legs. His wrists and face bear faded bruises (food gathering and sparring will get you those) but his hands are clean and his hair is neatly braided.
He looks around, his eyes big and bright and cautious.
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By happenstance, Kreyu is wearing something that would not be out of place in his own world, a green dress, one suited for doing work in woods and fields. She looks like a human woman, but her fea, her soul, is that of an immortal, a magically powerful being.
"I am called Kreyu."
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"I'm Peredhel."
At home, it is always Peredhil. Plural. But his brother isn't here, so the singular is more fitting.
It is his identity more than a name, he understands that now in ways he did not when he was younger still. And it is what he has left so it is what he uses.
His eyes when he looks back at her are bright. And slightly puzzled.
She looks like others he have met here - and yet.
It's like there is something behind her that he cannot quite make out.
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She picks up on his puzzlement. "It is the nature of my kind for the soul to have more than one shape it may take in the physical world. You are sensing some of the other shapes of my soul, perhaps."
She looks at the fish. "They are such fascinating creatures aren't they? They will eat breadcrumbs, if you toss them into the fire," she confides.
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"Are you a Maia?" he asks with equal parts awe and trepidation.
They can always talk about the fish later.
And how breadcrumbs can survive the flames long enough to be eaten.
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"I am..." she pauses. "I believe I have met someone from your world before, judging by your scent. There are creatures in your world by the same name as my kind, but from what I have gathered we are quite different from one another."
"My impression was that they were evil creatures, and great enemies to the peoples of your world. I do not wish to frighten you."
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What can she be?
Surely not an orc. Or an evil tree.
His curiosity gets the better of him.
"What are you?"
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"I have lived many lifetimes among the peoples of my universe as one of their own, helping, guiding, teaching. I would not harm you or those you hold dear for the world, but I will leave, if you wish it."
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But dragons are big.
His eyes are wide, but he doesn't seem scared. Dragons are creatures in stories. He has yet to meet them, in battle or otherwise.
"Is it magic? That makes you look like this?"
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She laughs, low and musical. "I have spent far more time in this shape than my draconic shape, to speak truly! Aside from being less likely to frighten people like this, my draconic shape is very large, larger than even the greatest whales in the sea."
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Sceptical.
"Whales can be very large."
He is not about to be rude and call her a liar.
But whales?
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"It would be most rude of my to assume my draconic shape in here." And possibly painful what with furniture, ceilings, and other such things.
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It would be amazing - and terrifying - to see a real dragon.
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"Would you like something to eat?" In her experience, children are hungry fairly often, what with one thing or another.
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She notices the kid over by the fire, and offers a small, awkward (but friendly!) wave.
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Craning his neck a little. To see what she is doing.
Is it a book? And is she -?
Without truly decided to do so, he drifts closer.
"Are those - whales?"
His voice is melodious.
Hesitant.
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The book itself is most certainly a journal, the handwriting not terribly neat but legible, the margins of the book full of drawings accented by light swaths of color, as well as stickers and snips of interesting flyers and such.
"I've not been there in five years, but I'm meeting a friend there for breakfast tomorrow."
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He doesn't know ow the right word for it. Chaotic but with a meaning to it. And those little images and the colours -
He looks at her, eyes bright and curious.
"The sign of someone who dines?"
But why whales?
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He nods and then he smiles - briefly - with remembered joy.
"We used to look for whales. My brother and I. When we lived by the sea."
And then he blinks because he can almost smell it. The sea. It smells like parting. Like tears.
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"I'm glad you got to see your friend again," he says, pausing briefly before adding,"Sirion, our home? It was sacked. I don't think anything is left."
Or anyone.
"It's just my brother and I. Now."
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"I'm... so sorry," she says, quiet. "No one should have to experience something so terrible. I am... glad that you and your brother have each other, at least. A-are you safe, where you are now?"
Details such as the ill fit of his tunic, which initially hid some of the skinniness, are coming into focus for her now.
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"We are captives. But they try to -"
When he looks at her, his eyes are solemn and far too mature for his face.
"To not be cruel."
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('Do, or do not. There is no try.')
"I... wouldn't know what the attempt to avoid cruelty would be worth, after already doing all that, but I suppose it is a small mercy. D'you... I mean, there's always food here..."
She almost asks if there would be an opportunity of escape, but refrains at the last moment. Presumably his brother is also young. They would be too young to venture off into the wilds alone, with no guidance or guarantee of running into someone who could or would help them.
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But he just nods at her statement.
"Sometimes, I've brought something back as well. But they cannot know so it can only be small things. An apple or a small piece of bread. For my brother. We're twins."
He adds the last almost proudly.
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