The New Meets the Old
By Jo March
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own any of the Lord of the Rings, Tolkien owns it all. But the plot belongs to me.
Summary: One sleepless night Elrond takes a walk around Rivendell. What he finds is not what he expected. A younger version of.... To say more would ruin the story.
A/N: This chapter is where it gets a little tricky because I'm not sure what I should do. Silver Elf, you are the coolest, seriously. I love it when people sick up for me. This chapter is dedicated to you and HobbitsRfun; you two are the best. You both inspire me never to give up even when the going gets tough. I put it in 1.5 lines so that it would make it easier for you to read, so don't worry if the formatting is a little different.
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As Elrond paced the hallway Arwen quickly raced off to find a come clothes that would match what her father had requested. Arwen was one of the fairest being in all of Middle Earth, but she did have one particular fault, have a health dose of curiosity and not enough patience. It irked to not know why her father was being so secretive about.
Hum, clothes small enough to fit a child he wants. Another DĂșnadan child? No, that is not possible Estel is the last of that bloodline, and he is mine. I wonder what father has gone and done this time. Well, he doesn't expect me back to soon so I will go have a small look before he misses me. With this in mind Arwen set off at a determined pace, but not one that would be noted or called hurried. She made her way quietly to her father's chamber avoiding being noticed by anyone. Everyone was out and about this time of day around Rivendell.
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While Arwen was sneaking into her father chamber a small being was stirring. He brought his eyes into focus, as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was laying in a huge bed that was lifted a meter off of the floor and the mattress made it ever taller. Light was pouring in from everywhere giving the room and ethereal glow about it. There was a pile of formal robes thrown carelessly over a chair in the corner and a dressing gown laid over an ornamental couch. He rubbed the sleep that had collected in his eyes while he dreamt of his family. The lad propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the room, it definitely belonged to someone, he would never ever want a room that looked like this, ick! It was way to grow up for his taste. He had decided a year or two before his father had left them and his mother had gone crazy; that he would never act prim and proper like and adult accept when he really had too. Elros had taught him an import- Where was Elros?
He slightly remembered falling threw the air then landing here, but where was here? Had Elros fallen also or was he still at home with Gil-galad? Elrond was about to panicked when he noticed the door slowly opening. He knew he should pretend to be asleep; he had gotten so good it was hard for anyone to tell if he was really awake or not, even Gil-galad had a hard time discerning if he was or not. Curiosity got the better of Elrond, he waited for whom ever might be out there to come it, unless it was someo- He silently jumped out of bed and grabbed his sword and unsheathed the keen edged blade, ready for whatever might meet him. When the door finally did open it was not what he had expected it was....
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When Arwen finally reached her father's room she slowly opened the door and peeked in. Someone jumped off the bed and retrieved something from the floor, she couldn't help wondering what it was. Millimeter by millimeter, centimeter by centimeter she opened the door, hoping to get a glimpse of what her father was hiding. Not being able to stand it anymore she flung the door wide and it made a loud bang as it hit the wall behind it, she flinched at the noise hoping her father wouldn't hear it and come see who had made the noise. She finally looked around the room and her gaze fell on what she had been seeking. A young lad standing in the middle of the room holding his sword aloft.
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Elrond paced the corridor. How long can it possibly take to get a single pair of clothes and come back here? Women, they are always late. Takes after her mother in that respect, never on time no matter how early she started we were always late to everything. Why can they not just gather what they need and be prompt like us males? He walked back and forth fairly wearing a path into the intricate weave of the carpet anticipating his daughters return. Elrond's head shot up as he heard a bang from the hall where his room was located, had the boy finally awakened and pushed the door open? He had to refrain from running down the hall and finding out whom this dark headed stranger who uttered his brother's name was.
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A/N: Sorry that this chapter is really short, but I will make the next one much longer for you. This one seemed to write its self, but I wanted a nice gently cliffhanger, not a jarring one. Bye for now.
