Elros
Ontamion, as predicted, was still busy with his duties, so Elros and his brother were left to wander the hallways. Elros sat on an inset bench by a window that overlooked a grizzled old oak tree, in a corridor that he and Elrond had discovered the day before. Next to him, Elrond played with yet another toy that Maglor had unearthed for them out of the old bedrooms.
Elros curled his feet up and pressed the side of his forehead against the glass. Outside today it was drizzling. He watched the droplets trickle down the glass. "Do you like it here?"
Elrond continued to push the leather ball back and forth between his feet. He shrugged. "It's fine. Maglor's nice. Except he made me eat all my turnips yesterday." His smile dropped. "I hate turnips," he muttered darkly.
Elrond gave the ball a gentle prod towards the opposite wall. He sat back. "I'm ready to go home now."
Elros nodded to himself. "Father will be here soon to fetch us. Middle-Earth is a big place, like Maglor said, but Father has been searching this whole time and he'll bring us home."
Elrond nodded happily. "And Mother, too."
"Don't be stupid. She went over the cliff, remember? Lord Maedhros saw her fall."
"No one saw her die."
"How many people do you suppose have fallen off cliffs and lived?"
"Don't know," said Elrond reasonably. "Not many people try. Perhaps it's easier than people think."
It was no use with him. Elros turned back. "But Father was out at sea that day," he muttered to himself, "Which means he's looking for us now. He'll come for us. Any day now."