Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings, Elrond, Arwen, and all other related characters do not in any way belong to me. I'm only taking them out to play for a little while, and promise to have them home before dinner.
Rating/Warnings: K. None. Absolutely none whatsoever. Unless fluff overload perhaps? I dunno.
Time frame: Arwen's just a wee little toddler. Okay...well I dunno. I'm not around kids enough to be able to gauge it. But she's young. Very young. (And for those of you who read others of my fics, this happens before "And the Night Fades to the Light of an Evening Star.")
A/N: So I've spent the better part of the last school week working on a literary analysis paper (of the Akallabeth (the downfall of Numenor) I might add), but because of that, I haven't really had a chance to work on any fun writings. Until tonight, after I finished the rough draft, and just wanted to sit down and write something fun and enjoyable. A friend asked for some Elrond/Arwen father/daughter fluff, and this ended up popping into my head as I started writing. Soo yeah! There ya have it. I'd positively love any and all feedback anyone might have, even a simple and anonymous "I liked it!" or what have you. I can only improve if I know what I'm doing well or doing not so well after all! But most importantly, though, I hope that you all enjoy this short little story!
~Safe In My Arms~
A sigh escaped Elrond's lips, and the quill he held in his right hand dropped down to the desk. He ran his free hand over his face and momentarily allowed his eyes to drift closed, basking in the sensation of his thoughts wandering far away from the press of paperwork and duty.
So lost was he in his lack of thought that, even if he heard it, Elrond did not register the opening of his study door, nor the pattering of small feet across the hardwood floor. He did, however, notice a small body clamber up into his lap and huddle against his chest, pulling an arm protectively around a slim waist.
Elrond opened his eyes, startled, and looked down quickly. A head topped in curling raven locks met his gaze as the little girl buried her face into his chest, holding fast to his arm to keep it snugly around her.
"Arwen?" Elrond murmured, abandoning the quill still held loosely in his grip to run his fingers through his daughter's tangled hair. "Are you well?" he asked concernedly.
Arwen shook her head vigorously, but did not pull away from her Ada. If anything, she wormed her way further into Elrond's chest, now drawing her legs up so that they were more firmly tucked into a ball around Elrond's protective arm. Elrond frowned and then carefully shifted Arwen's weight so that he could cradle her in both of his arms. She did not resist, although she stiffened when he first moved her away from the comforting warmth of his chest. She calmed again when she felt both of his arms wrap around her and hug her close.
"What happened, my little Undómiel?" Elrond asked, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "What has frightened you so?" He could feel her vague shivering, and could sense her fear and the disquiet of her fëa. He gently smoothed her hair away from her face, and smiled lovingly and encouragingly down at his daughter. Arwen sniffled, and her lips puckered. In that instant she looked remarkably like her mother, save for the slight protrusion of her lower lip.
For a moment, Elrond wondered if she was going to remain silent, and his own worry began to mount at the thought that something had frightened his precious little girl so much that she was afraid to speak. But then Arwen looked up at her Ada, and in his silver eyes she found love and warmth and safety. And she dared to speak.
"I had a dream," she started tremulously and with another sniffle. "I dreamt that you and Nana and Elladan and Elrohir were all gone, and I was all alone. I was all alone in a stone room, and it was dark, and quiet, and I was scared. And…and…" She gulped, and sniffed violently as tears began to gather at the corners of her eyes. "And I tried to call for you but you didn't come. And, and…" Her voice rose in frantic fear, and her eyes went wild as she remembered the terror of her dream.
"Hush, my little Undómiel," Elrond murmured, hugging her tightly. "Never fear, dear one, I am here."
He kissed her forehead, and began to rock her gently as she gulped and fought to stop crying. His heart twisted at hearing her so desperately trying to be brave. "It is all right to cry, Arwen," he said softly, reassuring her.
"But…Elladan said…" Despite her protests, Arwen's tears kept falling, running down her cheeks.
"Never mind what Elladan said," Elrond cut in smoothly, and wiping away the tears with a thumb. "He thinks that it is important for him to prove himself an adult and a warrior in foolish ways, does he not? Like the time he jumped off of the bridge in a dare from Elrohir. That was very foolish, was it not?" he asked.
Arwen nodded, sniffling as she slowly began to stop crying. "He got hurt," she remembered.
Elrond nodded. "Yes, he did."
"So it's okay to cry?" Arwen asked, returning to the original topic, looking up at her Ada. Tears still clung to her lashes, but otherwise they had ceased to fall—her conversation with her Ada had helped her to forget her fear.
"It is," Elrond said firmly. "I am positive of it." He smiled, and kissed Arwen on the top of her head.
"Now," he said, and shifted her slightly, "are you ready to go back to bed?" Arwen stiffened, and shrunk back against Elrond, the memory that had momentarily slipped back into the back of her mind surging forward again. Elrond hugged her tightly, feeling her fear, and then added, "Or would you rather stay here with me for a little while longer?"
"Stay here with you," Arwen mumbled, latching onto her Ada's arm again.
"Very well," Elrond agreed. "But I do need to keep working." Arwen nodded, and allowed her father to situate her so that she was sitting on his lap, leaning against his chest with his left arm wrapped snugly around her, keeping her safe. His right hand, however, was left free to write.
Arwen watched her father write for a little while, enjoying simply snuggling with him, and observing how the shadows danced across the paper, and how the thick lines of ink flowed smoothly out from beneath the tip of his quill. She felt safe, snuggled up against her Ada, and in that moment, she knew that nothing could ever harm her. And she felt peace wash over her.
Elrond looked down some time later, and saw that his daughter had fallen asleep. He smiled, and then set down his quill and stood carefully, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. With a quick puff, he blew out the candles sitting on his desk, and with that, he left his study, carrying his daughter up to bed.