Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 36 |
| Kinsmen |
Written for Dwimordene's birthday 2010. She was wanting stories about adoption. A triple drabble. MEFAs, 2010: 3rd Place, Fixed-Length Ficlet: Children or Family |
| At the funeral they drew stares, familiar though most were with them. Clad just alike, looking just alike, stern and beautiful in their gray cloaks. Afterwards, they spoke with the widow. Young though she was, her eyes were dry, her face somber. The dead man’s son rode rosy-cheeked upon her hip. “My apologies to you that I could not save your husband, lady,” said Elladan. Gilraen shook her head. “What, do the Elves have magic that will turn arrows away? And did you fail to use it? There is no blame here, Elladan. Arathorn and I both knew the risks.” “Speaking of risks,” Elrohir put in, “Our father offers you sanctuary in Rivendell. He fears for his brother’s line.” “It is getting a little thin, is it not?” Gilraen sighed. She looked up at the two tall warriors. Her husband‘s closest friends, she had come to know them well since her marriage and was not in awe of them at all. “What do you think?” “That we would not compel you, but yes, we deem it best,” said Elladan. “You and little Aragorn would be most welcome, lady,” Elrohir added. “Father is looking forward to teaching him.” “Few there are who can brag of such a tutor!” Gilraen said. A decisive young woman, she pondered the matter for but a few moments. “As it is my responsibility to protect him now, I will return with you to Rivendell.” Elrond’s sons bowed deeply. “Thank you, my lady,” they both said. The toddler, who had been watching all the while quietly, tugged at the shoulder of his mother’s gown. “Mama, who are these?” Before Gilraen could answer, two slender Elvish hands reached out and stroked the little boy’s downy cheeks. Two musical voices spoke as one. “We are your new brothers, Aragorn.” |