faderift | (no subject)

WHO: Elros & you!
WHAT: Back in Kirkwal after the dragon fight, and Elros is remembering how annoying having "parents" around can be. Help a man sneak out for an unsupervised drink?
WHEN: the latter half of December
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: probably nothing, but there may or may not be family drama.

For the Family - YOU ARENT MY REAL DAD

Elros glares, paces the floor agitatedly and snarls at the confinement.

"It's a scratch! Galadriel was away, Master Anders did a good job, I'm healed! I'll not be confined to my room like a child!"

For the Neighbours and those passing by - 90 is too old to be sneaking out the room, right?

It's taken him a full two days, and Elrond would shake his head at him if he knew, but he's finally managed to wrangle time alone without one of his kinsmen in the room, and its the work of a moment to pick the lock and sneak into the corridor. The yelling and throwing things probably was heard by all around, so Elros is hoping no one is actually here to see him slide silently across the hallway, wincing as he steps on a loose floorboard and it creaks.

Maybe tomorrow he'll try climbing out the window instead.

Tavern

He's laughing, open, friendly, sharing a drink or a tale or a song or a game of dice, totally forgetting that he was meant to be quiet and careful, so as not to be found out.

"Hello stranger! Come and join us!"

Training Fields

Normally, he'd have stayed away for a little while longer, but Anders' magic healing has left him itching in his skin. He has no ship to sail, and the fishermen can only sometimes be persuaded to take him out, so the training fields it is, the longsword singing in his hands as he pushes himself.

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"I do not know this Master Anders," he retorts. "I will admit that he did a fair job, but that is not my point."

Maglor watches the tantrum with forced patience, only blinking slowly, just once, at the glare. "I sent you away for your safety- and here you have demanded I not leave, so I remain." He's older than you, baby, so age has nothing to do with this. "And I have played this song to those of many ages."

"You did, and we told you even then, that we would rather have stayed." Elros glares. That he accepts that eventually it would NOT have ended well, he resents that parting even so.

"And my point is that my arm is fine, and I need to go back out onto the training fields to make sure I don't make that mistake - being confined to this room like an invalid aids no one!"

He growls. "You are trying to put me to sleep, you cannot fool me that way."

There is a point where any parent must yield. Maglor sees it. Respects it. His Elros has grown so strong and- pig-headed. But he can also see the resentment boiling in the other and knows it will only do more harm.

So he stills the strings of his harp and sits straight and still, gaze fixed unblinking at his fosterling.

"Then command me. Elros Tar-Minyatur. You have that right."

"Don't do that."

He turns, running agitated fingers through his hair.

"You know I'm not your king."

But he accepts the offered truce, and comes to sit at Maglor's feet.

"I'm fine, Maglor." He says, but the anger is gone, a summer squall passed. "Truly."

He doesn't blink, just watches, waiting patiently and utterly still.

Only when Elros sits at his feet does he blink and relax his rigid posture, daring to reach out to run gentle fingers through his fosterling's hair.

"There are three people here who have the right to give me orders," he says anyway. "You are one of them. Being my king or not is not one of the requisites."

Affection laces his voice then. "I know you are well, my brave Elros. It does not lessen my worry."

Elros huffs and leans against the fingers in his hair.

"I only gave you one order and I won't give you another."

Je grumbles lowly. "Then let me go out and train!"

He continues to gently toy with Elros' hair, offering comfort and support. Elros has his love no matter what he does or says.

"Then I will go with you. Training alone is less fun than training with another, yes?"

Elros accepts the offered comfort, as he has since he was old enough to choose.

"Hm it has been a while, hasn't it?"

Elros continues to amaze him! Maglor hums in agreement.

"For me as well," only partially because Maedhros insists he rests before returning to training as they used to! So he gives a lock of hair a playful little tug.

"Now?"

He scrambles eagerly to his feet.

"I won't go easy on you because you're out of practice too, old man!"

Ooooooh, that sounds like a challenge! A playful glint enters his eyes and he pushes himself to his feet, letting his harp stay behind on the bed for later.

"Who was it that stumbled on perfectly good ground, hmm?"

"It was uneven!" Elros protests with a laugh, snatching up weapons and heading to the door.

"I don't have your pefect elven balance any more!"

Edited 2017-12-14 05:23 (UTC)

Maglor's right at Elros' heels, picking up his sword along the way with a laugh.

"It was perfectly steady" he retorts lightly. "No one else seemed to be having trouble!"

"There were holes!" Elros retorts right back.

"Not where you were~" He answers glibly, aiming a playful swat Elros' way.

Elros ducks the swat and tries one back.

"How did you not see the massive crater I put my foot into?!"

Maglor grins and grabs for Elros' wrist to tug him close.

"Ah, your imagination is as active as ever!"

Elros shoves him fondly, since he's being tugged close.

"Maybe you should get your eyes checked!"

Just going to tuck his fosterling in close with a chuckle and fond kiss to the top of his head.

"My eyes are better than yours!"

"They can't be if you missed that crater!"

Elros doesn't protest the affection, this time.

This time, most times~

Maglor drags him along to the training grounds.

"Then I shall show you how good my sight is!"

Sssh, you'll ruin his image.

"You'll have to try your hardest not to fall into any potholes!"

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