Elros

Ontamion came into the kitchen with his hands cupped, filled to the tops of his fingers with something Elros couldn't see. Elros perked up.

The stonemason's son opened his hands and let his hoard pour out onto the hearth where Elros huddled. The shiny brown lumps clattered against the bricks.

"Chess-nuts," Ontamion said, or at least that was what Elros thought he said. "It's cold today, and we can roast them."

Elros' shadow, known to others as Elrond, held one up to the firelight. "Can't we just eat them straight from the shells? Won't they burn?"

Ontamion fiddled with the small knife on his belt. "No, silly. Roasting's the point."

"We don't have chess-nuts back in Sirion," Elros explained.

"You said you didn't have morning frost painted on windows there either, or red robins. I can't wait for you to see snow for the first time."

"It is quite different here." Elros watched Ontamion make two cuts on the skin of the nut.

One of the kitchen maids – Samniel, was perhaps her name – wordlessly set a wide iron pan on the hearth next to the three boys. Ontamion looked up and grinned.

Elros tapped a nut on the brick absentmindedly. "What do you know about Sirion?"

Ontamion paused before answering. "Only a little, after the great lords got back from their trip to the Havens. My father won't let me listen, but sometimes I pretend to be asleep when he has soldiers over for supper. No one pays attention to children," he said proudly.

"Has everything been cleaned up there yet?"

"Sorry?"

There was a healthy handful of chess-nuts in the pan now. Ontamion maneuvered it until the pan sat atop the fire, perched on a particularly thick log.

Elros swallowed. "It was rather a mess last time I saw it. I think my side lost some soldiers. But it's probably mostly back to normal now."

Ontamion didn't say anything. Instead he watched the pan like a hawk.

Elrond piped up. "Father's going to bring us back there, you know." He smiled and looked to Elros for reassurance.

Elros shushed his younger brother. "Not so loud, where everyone can hear." His eyes darted around the kitchen. Samniel, panting, was beating a length of butter flat against the counter with her rolling pin as if the butter had personally wronged her. Elros privately resolved never to fall out of her good graces.

Elros picked at the skin of the chess-nut in his hands. "Elrond is right, though," he muttered. "I think Maglor was afraid there would be a second battle, so he took us here. There wasn't really any time to inform Father. He must be terribly worried right now, looking for us."

"Ah, ready." Ontamion sucked in air between his teeth as he plucked a chess-nut out of the pan. He grinned and waggled his finger at Elrond staring. "Cook eats first." Steam wafted past the boy's face as he peeled the skin back to reveal the buttery yellow meat inside.

Elrond gasped softly when Ontamion tossed a few warm chestnuts into Elrond's lap. Elrond carefully began the task of extracting the nut-flesh.

Ontamion chewed silently for a few minutes. It hadn't escaped Elros' notice that he hadn't met Elros' eyes.

Elros received a chess-nut, too. "Here, I peeled it a little for you." Ontamion smiled kindly; a little too kindly.

Elros took a nibble. Some impulse of idiot stubbornness drove the words from his thoughts to his mouth. "He is coming, you know," he mumbled.

Ontamion sat by the hearth with that strange look on his face, avoiding Elros' gaze. He nodded absently.

Elros grimaced. "I don't think I like chess-nuts."

"Oh." Ontamion looked down at the two handfuls of nuts he'd carried inside.

A pang of guilt arose in Elros' stomach. "I mean … actually, I think I'm just full from lunch. This was a nice idea; let's do it again another day. Do you want to go climb?"

Ontamion stood up and stretched. "Too cold for climbing. Why don't we visit the stables instead? My father has taught me horse riding twice now, and any day soon I'll be allowed to ride by myself, probably."

"You're right; that sounds much better." Elros turned to Elrond. "Are you ready?"

Elrond wrinkled his nose. "Do you have to go down to the stables?"

"Yes."

Elrond munched silently on the chess-nuts in his lap. Samniel walked past again bearing a bowl of still-rising dough. The warm, yeasted scent wafted over the hearth.

"Or you could stay here in the kitchen," Elros prompted.

Elrond looked torn. "You're going down to the stables, you said?"

"Yes."

"How long will you be there?"

"Probably a long time."

"You're staying there, right? You're not going anywhere else?"

Elros nodded. "I'll still be there when you come down."

Elrond looked around the kitchen again. One of the kitchen maids caught his eye and smiled as she continued chopping a large pile of dried fruit. A single uncut cherry lay at the edge of that pile, invitingly.

"I'll be along in a bit. I'd just like to stay here for a little. And not in the smelly stables," he added.

Elros smiled. "In a bit, then." As he and Ontamion made their way to the door, Elros looked back at Elrond posted up, his eyes level with the counter. He leaned forward to sniff at the little mountain.

Perhaps today wasn't all bad.