Work Text:
”Ada, what’s that?”
Elladan pointed with his soft toddler hand at the corner of the room.
The twins had gotten to that stage of childhood when everything was a question, a world of wonder and promise and beautiful things. They spent their days wandering Imladris, marveling at bright flowers and birds they hadn’t seen before; their days immediate in a way elven time rarely was.
Elrond wasn’t going to sully that innocence with complicated, blood soaked tales.
So as Elladan pointed to an old lap harp tucked away in a corner, Elrond said,
”It’s a remnant of the first age.”