Aragorn was beyond bored. It was only the third day, but he already felt like crawling up the walls. There was only so much time one could spend with reading, or practising one’s letters, but his foster father had been adamant that he was to stay in bed for at least a week until his broken leg had set sufficiently. This should also teach him a lesson for being so reckless, ada Elrond had said. Reckless! It had not been his fault that the branch of the tree he had climbed had been dead, and his friends had not fallen either. It was also not his fault that he was not an elf and therefore not able to catch himself on another branch to break his fall. Or perhaps he would be able one day, when his arms had grown longer… But here he was, with a cumbersome splint on his leg and an unbelievable number of days ahead of him where he could do nothing but lie here without anything to do. He would die of boredom before he was allowed out of bed again, he was sure.
The door opened, and two tall, identical figures stepped into the bedchamber.
“Suilad, brother, how do you fare?” the one with the blue tunic asked.
Aragorn’s face lit up. “Lado! Rohi! How good of you to come, I am dying of boredom.”
Both elves laughed at the expression of comical desperation on their brother’s face.
“Already, after a mere three days? You have become a spoiled brat, little one.”
Aragorn grinned at the good-natured teasing of his foster brother.
“It is a good thing, then, that we brought you some distraction,” Elrohir, the one in the green tunic, added. “Look!”
He took his hands from behind his back and held two tiny black kittens out to the bed-bound young human.
“And here is another one.” Elladan reached carefully into the bag he wore over his shoulder, producing a third kitten, a little grey tiger.
Aragorn beamed with delight, carefully touching the tiny bodies crawling over each other, exploring the new territory. One of the blacks sat down and gave a pitiful mew.
“What does it want? Is it hungry?”
“I do not think so,” Elrohir, who sat on the bed, answered. “They have just been fed. Their mother left them and they are now being raised by hand.”
Aragorn petted the tiger who was kneading the coverlet at his side, while one of the black ones sniffed his way along his collarbone.
“They are adorable! How do you do that, raise them by hand? Can I help?”
The twins looked at each other and winked.
“Yes, of course. Actually, we counted on you, since they not only need to be fed frequently, but also need somebody close for comfort and warmth. Ada said they can stay with you as long as somebody else helps with the feeding.”
Elladan, who was leaning against one of the bed-posts, launched into a lengthy explanation of the details. Aragorn listened attentively while he continued to alternatively caress the small furry beings and prevent them from crawling too far away, all boredom forgotten.
~ finis ~