And love grew between them, as little might be thought

[tar_minyatur]

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Elros Tar-Minyatur ruled the Númenóreans for four hundred years and ten. For to the Númenóreans long life had been granted, and they remained unwearied for thrice the span of mortal Men in Middle-earth; but to Eärendil's son the longest life of any Man was given 

Have an idea for things you want to do with Elros? Hit me!

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[tar_minyatur]

His brother is married. Or well. Will be married. His brother has a giiiiiiiiiiiirlfriend~

Elros needs to track him down to utilize his brother privileges RIGHT NOW

[littleromantic]

She is a very small lady, but there is no mistaking her nobility. Anna approaches Elros and gives him a tiny curtsy, her golden head bowing. Then she straightens and speaks in a voice that is at odds with her apparent youth:

"Your Majesty, I request your aid."

[seawanderer]

Maedhros is dead.

The Silmarils he and Maglor had finally succeeded in stealing have been lost.

And Maglor still breathes.

He wanders aimlessly for some time before he's found unconscious by fishermen. Found, and brought to the new kingdom called Numenor, ruled by one Elros Tar-Minyatur, who is well known to welcome all Light races, but with special care for elves and men.

He stays unconscious or senseless throughout the journey, much to the worry of his bearers but it's obvious to them he yet lives. They call for a stretcher and healers once they dock, and he's whisked off to be worked on while the king is informed of the strange elf the fisherfolk had found.

His hands also concern them. One is badly burnt- to the bone- and the other bears rough calluses and a few blisters. The rest of him isn't unscathed, there are various small wounds scattered all over his body. Careless living.

[seawanderer]

The last son of Feanor passes, singing alone, into legend. Or so the saying goes. Reality is rather different.

Reality had Maglor make his way to Numenor after a couple decades of wandering aimlessly, and was promptly shoved into the King's retinue, installed as someone trusted and to be respected.

His scars are better, these days, and he actually looks fairly well fed and much better kempt than when he'd first appeared. He still often keeps to himself, on the days when memory tugs most insistent and the sea demands he play for it.

For Osse, really, and Uinen. Even Ulmo, should the Vala listen. With his feet bared to the cool water and he'll play and sing for hours unless stopped, without thought for rest, food, or water.

yar har fiddledeedee

[yerbanjaxed]

Let it not be said he didn't attempt to get back home the second he put two and two together here. It didn't take too long, really, to grasp that he was not in fact, anywhere near his ship, or his territory, or even his own exact planet. Where he was... well to be fair, he hadn't gotten around to even caring where he was, though honestly putting a little more brain power into figuring out his new coordinates might have been a better idea than... say...

Losing his temper and besieging the coast with a big, nasty, lightning filled storm.

He'd get around to figuring out what to do eventually, but first there was a great deal of steam that needed to be vented. Oh he'd not be hard to miss, not by a long shot, the glimmering, iridescent blue shape of the two hundred plus foot long beast occasionally diving out of the thick black clouds to let loose with an enraged howl, this supernatural little tantrum loud and powerful enough to shake windows and doors for miles upon miles.

[tar_minyatur]

Elros and Elrond are guarded, the precious hostages/fosterlings of some of the most lethal elves in Arda. But Beleriand is not safe, not here, on the edge of the knife. Far younger than Maglor would like, far sooner that Maedhros deems is safe to allow it, they are trained to the blade and sent to the front lines, or as near it as makes no difference.

They are guarded, yes.

It doesn't mean they don't get injured.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"