Written for Sphinx, who asked for something with Elernil and Eldarion, and Nemis, who owns Elernil, and was nudging me in an Eldarion direction. :) For some of the post-Tapestry ideas I had.

Elernil and Mirlinde are original characters of Nemis, from her fic High Princes of Tirion. Thank you again for letting me borrow them for a short while!

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After rising to place back on the shelf the few books that had occupied his attention for the afternoon, the King of Gondor stretched comfortably, ready to call an end to the day. There had been only a few papers to make ready, which did not take long.

Most importantly, a shorter working day today meant Eldarion could spend much more time with the visitors the White City was currently hosting. After making a few final notes at his desk he left the study, and headed to cross to the other end of the palace.

He did not make it far down the corridor, however, before he was assailed most surprisingly by a small boy. Eldarion turned with a slowly raised eyebrow and regarded the pair of grey eyes that looked widely up at him.

“How now then, young master Elernil?”

The young elf-child appeared as bewildered as his cousin. His arms were still clutching the King’s waist, as he was still gradually becoming aware he had not found his intended target.

“You’re not ada,” he said with more surprise than remorse.

Eldarion smiled with a touch of wryness. Although he admitted it would not have been a stretch for him to be mistaken for Elrohir. “Not quite, no.”

Elernil’s face cheered when he saw the King was not angry. “Ada’s looking for me. I got ahead.”

Eldarion studied the boy’s face patiently, intrigued, and scratched his dark beard. “A game? You are skilled at it I deem.”

There then appeared on Elernil’s lips an enthusiastic grin. “We play it a lot but I’m best.”

The King folded his arms comfortably as their conversation continued. “And where will he be looking for you then?”

The elf-child toyed with the hem of his shirt and shrugged, with a cheerful smile.

Eldarion laughed lightly, despite himself. “How about we try the garden, then?”

“Okay.”

Elernil, only half the height of his cousin, followed beside him. They made a curious pair, with the King’s hands folded calmly behind his back, and the boy walking energetically to keep up with Eldarion’s long strides.

When they arrived at the garden, Elernil ran over to one of the walls, trying to peer over. Eldarion lifted him up helpfully, so he could see the view of the city.

“Different from Imladris, I should say?” asked Eldarion, watching Elernil take in the sight.

The boy smiled. “But there’s gardens too like home.”

Eldarion set him down. “Indeed. This was one of my mother’s favourite places.”

He could see Elernil processing this. “My aunt?”

Eldarion nodded. “Do you remember her?”

The boy thought for a minute, and nodded too. “I ‘member she sang to me.”

This brought only a slightly melancholy smile to Eldarion’s face. He remembered his mother singing often, during the last years. Even at her most quiet times, she turned to its familiarity.

The King’s dark grey eyes were reflective when he answered. “She said you had a bright spirit.”

Elernil’s face cheered, and he grinned. “Nana says I am full of spirit. And I keep her hands full too.”

The King could not help chuckling, and a smile returned to him. “Well done for you, then.”

His young cousin giggled, in time to hear quick footsteps from the garden entrance, and Elrohir came within sight of the pair. The Lord of Imladris shook his head in a mixture of relief and amusement.

“I thought you might be here. I was about to send out a search party.”

Elernil grinned behind his hand when he saw his father but stayed close to the King, using him as cover.

Eldarion gave the elf-lord a bemused look. “I daresay the palace has always been nearly too good for this game, as my sons are finding now.”

“This one will be giving them a proper challenge, the longer we stay here, I should expect.”

Elrohir chuckled as he came to stand beside his nephew. He gave Elernil, who looked pleased with himself, a look of mock severity that was just overdramatic enough to elicit another giggle. The boy hopped over to hug his father’s waist.

“You must remember we are not at home, Elernil, there are many more places to be lost here.”

The boy was cheerfully unperturbed. “But I’m not lost. You found me.”

Elrohir shook his head. It was hard to argue with such clear logic from a seven-year-old. He took up conversation again with Eldarion when Elernil began to explore the area nearby.

“I should wonder though, if perhaps ‘home’ is a relative term now. We have traveled much recently.”

“He does not appear to mind it much, though?” replied the King. “We were most glad, though, to hear you would be able to join us here for the season, Milawen in particular,” he added. “She would have been disappointed to miss you, not being able to travel just now.”

Elrohir nodded perceptively. “Mirlinde told me much the same in the last months before Elernil arrived.”

“She minded having to stay at Rivendell?”

“It made her a little restless, I think,” he said contemplatively. “But I do not think she minded having me so close, to be at her beck and call.”

“You might have a point there.”

Elrohir laughed at his nephew’s reaction, then relaxed. “Your ladyship seems glad for your company now, I daresay. She has much warmth in her spirit.”

A gentle smile crossed Eldarion’s face. “Aye, that she has, and has been a great comfort to me on many occasions.”

“Mirlinde has been as glad for the visit as she was, I believe… To take the opportunity while it is still here.”

Eldarion took his uncle’s meaning, responding carefully. “You’ve decided, then?”

The elf-lord gave a nod, looking briefly in the direction of his son. “Elladan and I have talked it over a great deal… another year, perhaps a little more, but then…” He sighed reluctantly. “It is time, I believe.”

Eldarion was aware their departure would be soon. It did not come as a surprise to hear they had settled on a time, but it not mean their presence would not be missed when it came to it.

Elrohir straightened, letting his expression brighten a little. “My wife does assure me though, we will stay here at least long enough to meet our newest niece or nephew.”

The King nodded in thanks. “Your company is welcome.”

“I do not see how we could not stay… the palace is so active now.”

Eldarion shrugged lightly, smiling. “It is unpredictable at times, I know. My sisters’ children have long been grown. I believe they find some peculiar amusement in finally seeing me with young ones about me.”

Elrohir gave a knowing smile. “That, I can relate to.”

“Father!”

Their conversation was interrupted with a call from a boy who entered the garden. He was aged ten, with light red-blond hair and keen grey eyes, and neatly dressed. Elernil perked up as he came by, and waved.

Eldarion turned curiously. “Eldamir?”

As he came over quickly, the prince’s face was calm and eager. “My mother, and also my aunt,” he said with a glance to Elrohir, “say that if you wish to join for tea then you must do so presently, or there shall soon be none left.”

Elernil picked up on his young cousin’s meaning. His eyes widened and he looked to his father, imagining the prospect of missing out on food.

Eldarion stood and put a hand at his son’s shoulder. “Then I believe we must, for I make it a point to argue with your mother as little as possible.”

Elrohir rose also and lifted Elernil, seating him on his arm. “Lead the way, my lords.”

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