Trinkets by Independence1776

Freedom

Elrohir goes for a sail in celebration of becoming a Loremaster. Ficlet. Rated General.

This was written for my sister several years ago.

“Elrohir, what are you doing?”

He looked up at me with a smile. “Going for a sail.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Father said dinner will be ready soon.”

“I’ll be gone for the night, Elladan. Why do you think I packed food?”

I looked over the small sailboat and sighed. “It’s your celebration.”

“I know. But this is how I’d prefer to spend it: alone on the open water, under the stars. I’ve worked hard ever since we arrived here on Tol Eressëa.” He looked at me, pleading. “I know Father will be upset, given he’s the one who encouraged me to become a Loremaster in the first place--”

“Elrohir!” I said, holding up my right hand. “I’ll tell him. You go have fun.”

He shot me a grin and untied the last mooring rope from the dock, coiling it up. The wind caught hold of the triangular sail and the boat moved slowly forward. I stayed at the end of the dock until he became a speck on the water. I turned around and met Father halfway along the path to the house.

He grinned. “And he doesn’t suspect?”

I shook my head. “No. He thinks he escaped.”

Father turned around, “Then we have time for the few last minute tasks your mother insisted on before the party tomorrow night.”

I nodded, but looked over my shoulder at the small black speck as we headed inside, hoping he was having fun and wishing I was with him.