RELATIVITY
Gilraen knew that many mortals described Imladris as a place where time stood still. She had lived here for long enough to know that this was not the reality. It was simply that most elves acted so slowly that it felt that way to those whose lives were condensed into a few short decades.
For mortals remaining here for any length of time the slow pace could actually become quite frustrating. An elf could promise faithfully to perform a task, but see no need to do so within the next few days, months, years, decades or even centuries! It was entirely possible not to have the promise fulfilled until after the mortal who had requested it was long dead.
Those most closely involved with the raising of Isildur's heirs seemed to grasp the problem, but elves merely passing through on their way to the Havens, often found the concept of mortality confusing.
She sighed, looking down at the beautiful baby booties in her lap. Blue, with a delicately embroidered white tree on each ankle, they had obviously taken some time to make and Gilraen made sure to thank the Sinda elf who presented them to her.
Perhaps Aragorn could use them for tobacco or coins.
END