"And he went up alone into the land, and came into the Calacirya, and it seemed to him empty and silent …But Eärendil climbed the green hill of Túna and found it bare; and he entered into the streets of Tirion, and they were empty; and his heart was heavy, for he feared that some evil had come even to the Blessed Realm. He walked in the deserted ways of Tirion, and the dust upon his raiment and his shoes was a dust of diamonds, and he shone and glistened as he climbed the long white stairs."

Elros

"I need to go inspect the watchtower; I'll be back this evening. You two should be fine. Tamblin is watching." Maglor moved to give Elros a friendly ruffle of the hair but stopped when he saw Elros' look. His hand swerved and awkwardly patted the couch instead.

In his corner, Captain Tamblin didn't say anything.

On the carpet, Elrond played with his wooden toy soldiers. Maglor had unearthed them yesterday from one of the rooms in the castle. Elros had tried to get inside.

._.

"Off-limits, I'm afraid."

Elros groaned. "It's just a bedroom; there's nothing dangerous. I can see it."

Elros tried to peer in further, but Maglor shut the door. He pulled out the little silver key on its chain, and that was the end of that.

._.

Maglor tapped Elrond on the head as he made his way to the doorway. Elrond sat up and grinned. Maglor waved goodbye and stepped through.

And then there were two, Elros thought. Plus Tamblin.

He leaned over the back of the couch to peer at Tamblin. "Is it terribly interesting, being a captain?"

Tamblin shifted on his feet. "Not really."

Elros waited for Tamblin to say more. "Did you fight orcs?"

"Yes."

Elros waited patiently for Tamblin to elaborate, but he seemed to consider the answer a complete one. He sat back again onto the cushions.

"Can you play now?"

Elros inclined his head to look. Elrond sat on his knees, holding a miniature troll and looking hopeful.

"I can't," Elros tried. "I'm … busy."

Elrond looked at Elros lying on the couch and didn't say anything. Sadly, he put the troll back and continued moving his soldiers in succession over the mountain embroidered on the silk.

There was a noise at the door. The cinder-boy, balancing a pile of logs that teetered above his head. He shut the door with his little foot and made his way past Elrond to distribute them in the metal basket by the fire.

Elros' belly ached with loneliness. He had waited patiently for the boy to say hello ever since he and Elrond arrived at Maglor's home, but he had never said anything. Perhaps it wasn't Done here, in this strange land of stone houses and trees with leaves like green sewing pins.

The boy had finished stacking his logs, a neat pile that formed a pyramid rising out of the basket.

"You missed a piece there," Elros suggested helpfully. He pointed to a stick lying on the flagstones.

The boy colored. "Apologies, sir."

That was even worse than silence. The boy picked up the stick and eased it between two logs in the basket.

"I'm sorry," Elros mumbled. "I don't know how people do things here."

The boy was still fussing around the fireplace. He looked back at Elros. "Don't really know what you mean, sir."

Elros wondered if his ears were red. He pulled his knees up closer. "No one says 'hello' to me here. Not you, not the girls that change the clothes and bedsheets. It's like I'm doing something wrong." Elros' inner critic cringed at the way he must be sounding.

The cinder-boy chewed his cheek thoughtfully. "Is it allowed, for sons of stonemasons to speak to sons of high lords?"

"Maglor's not my father," Elros said quickly.

He looked down. "I shouldn't have assumed. My apol– "

"But I can see how it looked that way," Elros added. "It's all right." But the awkwardness still hung in the air. There we go, Elros; messed it up again. Now you'll just have Tamblin to talk to.

Elros shifted in his seat. "Is it allowed," he ventured, "for boys that grew up in great castles to speak to boys that grew up in little wooden houses?"

The boy relaxed. "Oh, that's all right. I shan't hold it against you."

"Then I suppose a son of a high lady and a mariner can speak to a son of a stonemason, too. If it's fine with you," he added.

The boy took a moment to digest the logic. He nodded slowly. "I'm Ontamion. It's nice to meet you, now."

"Elros," said Elros, relieved.

Elrond perked up from where he had been listening silently. "And I'm Elrond, don't forget. Do you think you can play with me?"