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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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"You promised, Elros," Maglor reminds gently, eyes sad as he fusses around their room. But he finally takes a seat on his bed and picks up his harp.

"And I fuss because I love you." What's the fastest way to calm any recalcitrant, head-strong, vibrant person? Fingers slowly and gently start running over the instrument's strings in a song he doesn't care if Elros claims is a cheat to get him to settle down and stay put as he's been told.

"And did I say anything about confining you?" Fingon leans against the door, a mock-chiding look on his face.

"You seem well enough to me, and I've left a note for Maedhros. So would you like a bit of freedom, or should I just let you complain some more?"

"I promised to see the healers, and I did! The arm is fine!"

He growls and kicks the chair, before whipping around to glare.

"Don't play that. Don't you dare. I'm an adult Maglor, you sent me away you've no right to treat me as a child any longer!"

Elros pauses mid-rant and blinks at him owlishly before a slow grin spreads across his face.

"Have I told you lately that you're my favourite uncle?"

"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."

Despite their living arrangements, Adalia did not, in fact, hear the tiff that heralded Elros' arrival back in Kirkwall. In fact, she has no idea he's in the city at all, much less that he now rooms next to her — she's been busy, see, trying to get a handle on her welcome packets and learning all she can about Thedas, and that doesn't leave her a lot of time to spend anywhere but the library. More oft than not the only time Adalia comes back to the room she shares with Daenerys is to sleep in it. Which is all to say — she's not coming out of the room to snoop. or because she heard a sound, or for any reason except for that she's hungry, and the former Templar wing has a manned kitchen.

When she steps out of her room, Charis walking beside her, Adalia has her nose in a book and her mind only halfway on the rest of the world around her. She avoids walking into Elros, but only just, and doesn't seem to notice who she's avoided running into — doesn't, that is, until she's a few steps away, and her brain catches up to her. Slowly, Adalia turns around, lowering her book to peek at Elros over the top of it.

She doesn't say anything. Her cheeks start to flame, and she knows she's blushing — she's embarrassed, but she can't imagine why.

"You've known me a month, lad, there's not need to flatter me," Fingon laughs.

"Hurry now, will you. I have no idea when the mother hens will be back."

"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."

She's surprised Elros just shutting the door of his room, his boots in his hands, and he's blushing too.

"Ah... well met?"

"A month is plenty enough time."

Elros grins and snatches his boots up from the door.

"Lead on then!"

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?"

His greeting jolts Adalia out of her embarrassed haze, and she abruptly pulls her book fully away from her face, holding it against her chest instead.

She'd forgotten how tall he is —

"Hi! Hey, hi, um, yes, you too, well met."

She's going to die. The Gallows should just open up right here and swallow her whole, Bahamut help her. Charis is looking between the two of them, and if a dragon could look smug, it'd probably look like him.

"I didn't know you were coming back now! And — was that your room?"

Is he rooming next to her. Oh gods. Oh sweet merciful Sarenrae why.

"Ah...I was...just going out? Er...and yes are you...visiting someone?"

He casts a frantic look at the next door down, but it stays shut and no one comes to investigate. He does edge away from it a little all the same.

He is rooming next to her this is a disaster. Adalia's... not really sure why it's a disaster, or why Elros' sudden appearance has embarrassed her so thoroughly in the first place. All she did was almost walk into him, she's done that to a ton of people before and never felt like this. Come to think of it why is she so distraught by his tallness?

Questions that may never be answered. All Adalia knows now is 1. Elros is very tall. 2. He is rooming next to her, and that is a disaster. 3. ...Charis looks far too delighted by all of this. Her dragon is too smart for his own good.

"No, I'm um — well, that's my room, I live there. So we're... neighbors."

Adalia is never going to stop blushing. This is her life now, she's not only half elven, she's also half tomato.

"Really?" He blinks and the smile is wide.

"That is good news! Ah....although I should... warn Maglor. He...er. Let's just say he nearly died and lost his lands to dragonfire long before I was born. Also um. Are you...going out again? I need to ...um...would you like to come with me?"

Shit shit was that the door downstairs? Are they back already?

Is it good news, Elros? Is it? How good of news is it? Did you plan this? Were you trying to embarrass her? That sounds like something you'd do.

All of these thoughts pass through Adalia's head, but she says none of them. She's being stupid — there's no reason to be nervous or embarrassed, it's Elros. Elros who decided he was her friend a day after meeting her, who's fucking weird but in a nice way, who wants to protect her from her own stupid dragon son. He's fine. It's fine. Everything is fine. Whoever Maglor is is not fine, probably, and should stay away from Charis, but she'll cross that bridge when they get there.

"I was..." going to the library because I live there, it's my home, I never do anything else because I have a whole new world open to me and only want to say in the most familiar part — "heading out, but I had no destination in mind. Where were you going?"

Edited 2017-12-13 15:17 (UTC)

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?"

Fingon looked at him a moment more, his grin fading to a slightly thoughtful look.

"Well. If you insist, then I suppose I have room for a favorite nephew."

Never having met his only actual nephew, after all.

"Come, then. I suppose we could sneak into Hightown if you want to see that, but there's enough to do in Lowtown as well."

Edited 2017-12-14 01:22 (UTC)

He scrambles eagerly to his feet.

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

"Which one has the better taverns?" Clearly, this is the important question.

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I WONDER WHICH OPTION TO CHOOSE

Fingon's not making any claims on that subject, it's too weird already

LOL

bless you Fingon for being so helpful

giggle

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someone has to pretend to be sane around here

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clearly, we need an Elrond

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would that make the duesome's fussing better or worse?

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it might split their attention?