FIC: Elfling Insights (#21 of 50passages)
Title: Elfling Insights
Fandom: LOTR
Characters: Elrohir, Erestor (non-slash)
Prompt: 021 (“We shall search the valley from head to foot and peer under every pebble.”)
Word Count: 727
Rating: G
Summary: Elrohir’s peaceful morning is disturbed.
Author's Notes: Another sweet general story, featuring a wee!Elrohir
In the cool shade of a graceful beech tree, a diminutive figure sat hunched over an array of miniature toy soldiers. All had been carefully carved from wood, and one was in the rather grubby hands of the small figure, who was meticulously painting it with all the concentrated care of a dedicated elfling. The tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as a remarkably steady hand lowered a pointed sable brush to mark the iris of his very own Turgon, which bore a very close likeliness to the real figure of legend since it was carved by one who had served under him.
Suddenly, the hurried treading of swift Elven feet could be heard in the distance. The elfling paid it no heed, instead turning the figure around to search for any missed spots. After a few heartbeats, the footsteps flew back the way they came, followed by several pairs of equally swift and nearly noiseless feet.
When Elrohir happily placed his completed Turgon amidst Ecthelion and Wee Glorfindel (he called him thus so as not to confuse it with the much bigger model), there was what sounded like a full-fledged ruckus taking place in the usually tranquil Last Homely House.
Elrohir debated whether or not to inquire as to what all the commotion was about, and finally decided against it, since Elemmakil was still missing his hair. But enlightenment nonetheless came, in the form of one of the innumerable scribes employed by his father speeding over the garden trail a few paces from Elrohir’s Little Gondolin shouting, “Master Erestor will have our hides! And that is nothing compared to when Lord Elrond finds out! We shall search the valley from head to foot and peer under every pebble…” the last could have been ‘petal’, as the scribe was a considerable distance down the slope by then and seemed determined to carry out his words.
It took no great amount of genius to work out that his twin was ‘playing’ with the scribes again. Usually Elrohir left him to what seemed to be his favourite past-time, but today he really wanted to finish Little Gondolin so that he could play with Glorfindel later. And his ada had promised to get him a Little Menegroth when he finished Gondolin.
So he wiped his hands and ambled down the garden trail. Strangely enough, he now could not find any of those scribes, and the reason came into view a second later, as Erestor came out of the main section of the House.
“Good morn, little one,” the chief counsellor greeted Elrohir. Seeing the paint on his arms, he added, “I see you have been painting your figures again. It is certainly a fine day to be outside in. Were you looking for someone?”
“I am not, but your scribes are,” the elfling answered honestly. “They were running around earlier looking for Elladan.”
Erestor frowned. “They have lost your brother?”
“I think Elladan lost them. It is a game he plays.” Realising that he did not want either his brother or the scribes to get into trouble, he added, “He doesn’t mean any harm by it, and the scribes are doing their best.”
Erestor sighed, and affectionately smoothed back Elrohir’s hair. “I know, little one, but it is quite vexing to have to go look for your brother, when I have so many important things to do.” He smiled. “I daresay you have the makings of a fine diplomat, however.”
Elrohir smiled shyly. “Well, if you do not wish to look for him, he is that way.” The elfling pointed down to a lower level of the valley. “I think he is hiding in that grove of trees near the smithy.”
The councelor’s eyebrows rose, and he looked towards where Elrohir was pointing. Then he smiled. “My thanks, little one, for the information.” A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. “I daresay my scribes need a little exercise, if they cannot keep an eye on one elfling. I think I shall leave them to look for him, though I will send a message to the smiths so that they can keep an eye on him.”
Elrohir nodded, and returned to his work. He didn’t know why everyone always made such a big fuss over where his twin was.
After all, they only needed to ask him.
See the Table of Prompts
Fandom: LOTR
Characters: Elrohir, Erestor (non-slash)
Prompt: 021 (“We shall search the valley from head to foot and peer under every pebble.”)
Word Count: 727
Rating: G
Summary: Elrohir’s peaceful morning is disturbed.
Author's Notes: Another sweet general story, featuring a wee!Elrohir
In the cool shade of a graceful beech tree, a diminutive figure sat hunched over an array of miniature toy soldiers. All had been carefully carved from wood, and one was in the rather grubby hands of the small figure, who was meticulously painting it with all the concentrated care of a dedicated elfling. The tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as a remarkably steady hand lowered a pointed sable brush to mark the iris of his very own Turgon, which bore a very close likeliness to the real figure of legend since it was carved by one who had served under him.
Suddenly, the hurried treading of swift Elven feet could be heard in the distance. The elfling paid it no heed, instead turning the figure around to search for any missed spots. After a few heartbeats, the footsteps flew back the way they came, followed by several pairs of equally swift and nearly noiseless feet.
When Elrohir happily placed his completed Turgon amidst Ecthelion and Wee Glorfindel (he called him thus so as not to confuse it with the much bigger model), there was what sounded like a full-fledged ruckus taking place in the usually tranquil Last Homely House.
Elrohir debated whether or not to inquire as to what all the commotion was about, and finally decided against it, since Elemmakil was still missing his hair. But enlightenment nonetheless came, in the form of one of the innumerable scribes employed by his father speeding over the garden trail a few paces from Elrohir’s Little Gondolin shouting, “Master Erestor will have our hides! And that is nothing compared to when Lord Elrond finds out! We shall search the valley from head to foot and peer under every pebble…” the last could have been ‘petal’, as the scribe was a considerable distance down the slope by then and seemed determined to carry out his words.
It took no great amount of genius to work out that his twin was ‘playing’ with the scribes again. Usually Elrohir left him to what seemed to be his favourite past-time, but today he really wanted to finish Little Gondolin so that he could play with Glorfindel later. And his ada had promised to get him a Little Menegroth when he finished Gondolin.
So he wiped his hands and ambled down the garden trail. Strangely enough, he now could not find any of those scribes, and the reason came into view a second later, as Erestor came out of the main section of the House.
“Good morn, little one,” the chief counsellor greeted Elrohir. Seeing the paint on his arms, he added, “I see you have been painting your figures again. It is certainly a fine day to be outside in. Were you looking for someone?”
“I am not, but your scribes are,” the elfling answered honestly. “They were running around earlier looking for Elladan.”
Erestor frowned. “They have lost your brother?”
“I think Elladan lost them. It is a game he plays.” Realising that he did not want either his brother or the scribes to get into trouble, he added, “He doesn’t mean any harm by it, and the scribes are doing their best.”
Erestor sighed, and affectionately smoothed back Elrohir’s hair. “I know, little one, but it is quite vexing to have to go look for your brother, when I have so many important things to do.” He smiled. “I daresay you have the makings of a fine diplomat, however.”
Elrohir smiled shyly. “Well, if you do not wish to look for him, he is that way.” The elfling pointed down to a lower level of the valley. “I think he is hiding in that grove of trees near the smithy.”
The councelor’s eyebrows rose, and he looked towards where Elrohir was pointing. Then he smiled. “My thanks, little one, for the information.” A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. “I daresay my scribes need a little exercise, if they cannot keep an eye on one elfling. I think I shall leave them to look for him, though I will send a message to the smiths so that they can keep an eye on him.”
Elrohir nodded, and returned to his work. He didn’t know why everyone always made such a big fuss over where his twin was.
After all, they only needed to ask him.
See the Table of Prompts