Like a Bird, Like a Squirrel, Like a Silvan Elf
Elrond looked on with amusement, and not a little affection, as his young fosterling climbed the large tree outside of his window. A little parental worry, too, yes, but he knew from far exceeding the normal amounts of experience that he should not act on that.
Children, painful as it might be, had to get to try their wings, like young birds, and surprisingly often they did so by acting as if they were playing at being squirrels. Or, in a few notable cases he could very well remember, spent years seemingly in the illusion that they were merely extremely heavy silvan elves. Although perhaps with grave hearing problems, as it were. Then again, who really knew what children could hear or feel?
In the case of young Estel, Elrond thought for himself, standing by his window and watching, there was also the added consideration of his mother. Ever since she had lost her husband, Gilraen had been just a little bit too overprotective of her only child, and Elrond was not about to add to the burden.
No, let the young human climb trees, play at swords with Glorfindel before he had to learn for real (after all, what was the harm? The golden elf was perfectly safe company, always in control even when the child was in his most energetic moods, and the Lord happened to know that the warrior very much enjoyed the games, so it really was a perfect arrangement for everybody) and build mud fortresses in the woods with the twins.
He would carry a heavy burden of responsibility soon enough. No, thought the half-elven lord, smiling as he saw one of his twin sons join the game. Let the child play now, when there was time. Let him truly know the value of the type of life he would come to spend his life trying to protect.
So, this little story got more pensive than I had first thought it would be, but that's rather the danger of letting the plotbunnies loose, now isn't it? There will be one more story this year, and then I expect the plotbunnies to snooze until spring. But then again - you can never tell with those things. Sneeky little buggers, plotbunnies. And surprisingly painful, if they try to eat your toes.
TapTap