Note: I am very aware that Aragorn is not orphaned so young, but for the sake of writing this I've ignored that.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.
Elrond's eyes glittered as he surveyed the child before him. A tiny figure slouched in a cushy red velvet chair that was big enough for three of him. Brandy brown locks of hair spilled over crystal eyes and tangled around his ears. Thin lips strained to keep from quivering below a sniffling nose. The Elven lord smiled warmly and stroked the soft crown of hair on the boy's head. His heart broke when the lad's face shot up to reveal beads of tears clinging to dark lashes; the little one could no longer hold back his sobs.
"I did not mean to frighten you," soothed Elrond as he leaned forward. "Be still, little one. I will not harm you. I am going to take care of you."
No response other than shudders and cries came and Elrond sighed. He leaned closer and wrapped his long arms around the trembling boy to lift him from the chair and hugged him close to his chest. Tears stained the silk fabric adorning the Elven lord, but he did not mind. He stood to an impressive height and walked slowly to a nearby window that offered an enchanting view of the valley. There were miles of beauty to be taken in, miles of lush greenery and sparkling waterfalls. Elrond stood in the window and held the youth tightly; tiny fingers clutched his robe as strangled cries worked their way out of a pained face. He rubbed the boy's back and rocked him slowly side-to-side in front of the window. "Shhh, young one," he whispered softly. "Be still."
Not until the melodic voice of the Elf holding him began to sing did the little boy begin to calm down. His eyes fluttered slightly as he felt the melody flow through him and soothe his pains. He lifted his head and looked into the turbulent grey eyes of the Elven lord. They were kind eyes; he felt safe when he looked into those eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but only a whimper escaped and he threw his arms around Elrond's neck. "I am alone!" he wailed. "Mama is gone and I am alone!"
"Nay," said Elrond, clutching the boy tightly and shaking his head.. "You are not alone, my child. I am here; I will always be here."
"B-but Mama–"
"She has left this world, yes, but she is in your heart." Elrond smiled and sat the boy on the window sill. He brushed the fallen locks of hair from his tear-stained face and smoothed them while smiling kindly. The boy looked every bit like a grieving orphan–which he was–but still brimming with an inner dignity and grace that was rarely seen among his race. A select few Men held the grace of Elves, and this little boy was one of them. He was descended from the mightiest line of kings, and destined to become the greatest of them all, Elrond had no doubt. But just then, just as he laid his head on the shoulder of his new caretaker, just as he wept for the loss of his mother and father, just then, he was a shattered little boy. Elrond kissed his head and turned it so that the young, but true king of Gondor, could look out the window with him. "Do you see the beauty of the valley? Of the world?" The boy nodded and Elrond continued, "It is a blessing we all share–every race on this earth–and we are all responsible for maintaining it. Each free race must do its part to see that evil never touches what is pure. But there are those races that see it for other purposes, those that threaten everything we work so hard for. There are heroes of every Age that fight the forces of evil and save us for a time, but only for a time. You, my young Aragorn, you will see it safe for eternity."
Aragorn blinked and rubbed his eyes, "My Lord?"
Elrond hugged him closely and smiled into the sunset. "Never mind it now, little one. Let your heart grieve; free yourself of the pain it causes you." There was much to do if the boy were to grow into his future, but none of it could come before the boy's deep emotional wounds; that was his first responsibility. There would be constant trials and the chances for success were not necessarily as high as those for failure, but Elrond would see the evil banished from Middle-earth forever or die trying. Aragorn's mourning had softened but not stopped, and the Elven lord was thankful that he would have time to cry. So little time would there be for such things when the War arrived. So little time there was for anything at all.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.
Elrond's eyes glittered as he surveyed the child before him. A tiny figure slouched in a cushy red velvet chair that was big enough for three of him. Brandy brown locks of hair spilled over crystal eyes and tangled around his ears. Thin lips strained to keep from quivering below a sniffling nose. The Elven lord smiled warmly and stroked the soft crown of hair on the boy's head. His heart broke when the lad's face shot up to reveal beads of tears clinging to dark lashes; the little one could no longer hold back his sobs.
"I did not mean to frighten you," soothed Elrond as he leaned forward. "Be still, little one. I will not harm you. I am going to take care of you."
No response other than shudders and cries came and Elrond sighed. He leaned closer and wrapped his long arms around the trembling boy to lift him from the chair and hugged him close to his chest. Tears stained the silk fabric adorning the Elven lord, but he did not mind. He stood to an impressive height and walked slowly to a nearby window that offered an enchanting view of the valley. There were miles of beauty to be taken in, miles of lush greenery and sparkling waterfalls. Elrond stood in the window and held the youth tightly; tiny fingers clutched his robe as strangled cries worked their way out of a pained face. He rubbed the boy's back and rocked him slowly side-to-side in front of the window. "Shhh, young one," he whispered softly. "Be still."
Not until the melodic voice of the Elf holding him began to sing did the little boy begin to calm down. His eyes fluttered slightly as he felt the melody flow through him and soothe his pains. He lifted his head and looked into the turbulent grey eyes of the Elven lord. They were kind eyes; he felt safe when he looked into those eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but only a whimper escaped and he threw his arms around Elrond's neck. "I am alone!" he wailed. "Mama is gone and I am alone!"
"Nay," said Elrond, clutching the boy tightly and shaking his head.. "You are not alone, my child. I am here; I will always be here."
"B-but Mama–"
"She has left this world, yes, but she is in your heart." Elrond smiled and sat the boy on the window sill. He brushed the fallen locks of hair from his tear-stained face and smoothed them while smiling kindly. The boy looked every bit like a grieving orphan–which he was–but still brimming with an inner dignity and grace that was rarely seen among his race. A select few Men held the grace of Elves, and this little boy was one of them. He was descended from the mightiest line of kings, and destined to become the greatest of them all, Elrond had no doubt. But just then, just as he laid his head on the shoulder of his new caretaker, just as he wept for the loss of his mother and father, just then, he was a shattered little boy. Elrond kissed his head and turned it so that the young, but true king of Gondor, could look out the window with him. "Do you see the beauty of the valley? Of the world?" The boy nodded and Elrond continued, "It is a blessing we all share–every race on this earth–and we are all responsible for maintaining it. Each free race must do its part to see that evil never touches what is pure. But there are those races that see it for other purposes, those that threaten everything we work so hard for. There are heroes of every Age that fight the forces of evil and save us for a time, but only for a time. You, my young Aragorn, you will see it safe for eternity."
Aragorn blinked and rubbed his eyes, "My Lord?"
Elrond hugged him closely and smiled into the sunset. "Never mind it now, little one. Let your heart grieve; free yourself of the pain it causes you." There was much to do if the boy were to grow into his future, but none of it could come before the boy's deep emotional wounds; that was his first responsibility. There would be constant trials and the chances for success were not necessarily as high as those for failure, but Elrond would see the evil banished from Middle-earth forever or die trying. Aragorn's mourning had softened but not stopped, and the Elven lord was thankful that he would have time to cry. So little time would there be for such things when the War arrived. So little time there was for anything at all.