No need to fear
The night came quickly in Rivendell. Everyone was asleep safely in their beds as a storm enveloped the city. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, hail fell quickly, rain pattered against the rooftops and little five-year-old Estel cowered under the covers of his bed. The little Human was afraid of storms. He had always hated them. This Human child was the foster-son to Lord Elrond, who took the child in when his father died. Estel had become loved in Rivendell, especially by the Lord.
Estel waited a few more minutes and then he crawled out of bed, his bare feet pitter-pattering against the cold marble floor as he made his way to his father's bedroom. The thunder rolled again and Estel jumped slightly in fear. The little Human opened the wooden door and walked in slowly. He saw the Elf Lord's bed and made his way to it. The big bed was way too tall for him, so he tugged on the covers, trying to get his father's attention. "Ada?" the small boy spoke quietly.
Lord Elrond heard his son and quickly sat up, thinking something was terribly wrong. His foster-son was standing by the side of his bed, gazing with big eyes up at his father. "Ada, I scareded of da storm...Estel no like storms."
Elrond smiled at the small child's use of language. He leaned forward and scooped the little boy up into his arms. Estel wrapped his arms around Elrond's neck and buried his head into his father's robes. "The storm cannot hurt you unless you go outside, ion nin." Lord Elrond explained gently.
Estel looked up. "It can't?"
"No, child, it can't." the Elf smiled and ran his hand through Estel's tousled hair.
"B-but it's loud and scares poor Estel." The Human nodded seriously.
"It doesn't mean to scare poor Estel. Do you know what a storm really is, my son?"
"Tunder and ightning and rain." Estel said proudly.
"No, a storm is actually old Kings throwing festivals and parties. The thunder is the people talking, the lightning is the people fighting and the rain is wine being thrown to Middle-Earth." Lord Elrond said, saying the only thing he could think of.
"Really, Ada?"
"Really,"
"I still don't like the loudness...those Kings should be yelled at by their mommies and daddies for scaring poor Estel."
Lord Elrond chuckled.
Lord Elrond held his son until the boy was fast asleep and then he took the child back to his own room again. The future King of Gondor had nothing to fear...especially a storm.
The night came quickly in Rivendell. Everyone was asleep safely in their beds as a storm enveloped the city. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, hail fell quickly, rain pattered against the rooftops and little five-year-old Estel cowered under the covers of his bed. The little Human was afraid of storms. He had always hated them. This Human child was the foster-son to Lord Elrond, who took the child in when his father died. Estel had become loved in Rivendell, especially by the Lord.
Estel waited a few more minutes and then he crawled out of bed, his bare feet pitter-pattering against the cold marble floor as he made his way to his father's bedroom. The thunder rolled again and Estel jumped slightly in fear. The little Human opened the wooden door and walked in slowly. He saw the Elf Lord's bed and made his way to it. The big bed was way too tall for him, so he tugged on the covers, trying to get his father's attention. "Ada?" the small boy spoke quietly.
Lord Elrond heard his son and quickly sat up, thinking something was terribly wrong. His foster-son was standing by the side of his bed, gazing with big eyes up at his father. "Ada, I scareded of da storm...Estel no like storms."
Elrond smiled at the small child's use of language. He leaned forward and scooped the little boy up into his arms. Estel wrapped his arms around Elrond's neck and buried his head into his father's robes. "The storm cannot hurt you unless you go outside, ion nin." Lord Elrond explained gently.
Estel looked up. "It can't?"
"No, child, it can't." the Elf smiled and ran his hand through Estel's tousled hair.
"B-but it's loud and scares poor Estel." The Human nodded seriously.
"It doesn't mean to scare poor Estel. Do you know what a storm really is, my son?"
"Tunder and ightning and rain." Estel said proudly.
"No, a storm is actually old Kings throwing festivals and parties. The thunder is the people talking, the lightning is the people fighting and the rain is wine being thrown to Middle-Earth." Lord Elrond said, saying the only thing he could think of.
"Really, Ada?"
"Really,"
"I still don't like the loudness...those Kings should be yelled at by their mommies and daddies for scaring poor Estel."
Lord Elrond chuckled.
Lord Elrond held his son until the boy was fast asleep and then he took the child back to his own room again. The future King of Gondor had nothing to fear...especially a storm.