People and Places and Things of Arda

Elboron pursed his lips, waiting for an explanation.

"No need to take offense, Prince," said the diplomats son, his sneer widening into a cruel smile. "It would simply be too dangerous to take you along. After all, you are but a child."

Elboron bristled. He was only a few years younger than the other boy. Not to mention, even by Dalish standards, Brand was no grown man, being only a boy of sixteen. As Elboron opened his mouth to speak, he was quickly interrupted by a familiar voice.

"That's right," said Dottie, as she pranced forward and linked arms with Brand, smiling up at him with a blush on her face. At the sight of the two older children linked arm in arm, Elboron could feel a strange sensation rise up in his chest. He quickly looked away so he would not have to see the look of pure admiration Dottie had in her eyes as she smiled at Brand.

Without even so much as looking at Elboron, she continued. "You're just a little boy, Bo Bo. It would be too dangerous to bring you along with us. Why don't you go play with the other little kids?"

Elboron blinked. He looked back at the pair of them. Dottie spared him not a glance, too enraptured by Brand's good looks and tall stature.

"Go on," Dottie said, finally looking him in the eyes, before shooing him away with her hand. Then, she turned, and Brand followed her out of the glen.

Elboron's hands clenched into fists. He finally huffed and left in the opposite direction.

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Elboron watched closely as Navör, the head blacksmith of Emyn Arnen, and a good friend of his father, carefully submerged the sword into water. The water sizzled and steamed.

"Tell me, Young Master," Navör asked, glancing at Elboron out of the corner of his eyes. "Why you're here with me and not out playing with the others."

Elboron's lip curled into a small grimace. He looked away, too embarrassed about being left behind to reply. Not that he cared much for the opinion and friendship of Lord Brond's son. But…

The look Dottie had given him at the end, as if he were nothing more than a nuisance…. it was unbearable to comprehend. They had always been close friends and each other's constant companion. But one handsome, obnoxious, and idiotic lump of a boy comes along and suddenly Dottie is all eyes for him and him only, barely sparing Elboron a glance.

"I didn't want to go," Elboron mumbled, shrugging slightly. "I had studies to attend to."

Navör sent Elboron a knowing glance. "Oh? Even though the Young Mistress went with them?"

Elboron shrugged again, refusing to make eye contact with the old man.

Navör sighed, patting Elboron on the arm. "Don't you worry, lad," he said. "Young infatuation is but fleeting. I'm sure she'll grow tired of him before long."

Elboron echoed the old man's sigh, before rising from his seat. "I should return to my studies," he said, wearily, turning and leaving the blacksmith's workshop. Navör watched him go, before shaking his head, a wry smile on his face.

Elboron kicked a small pebble out of the way, as he walked down a path that most quickly led back to his quarters. He almost kicked it again, when he quickly stopped in his tracks, when he heard the quiet, unsettling sound of a girl crying.

Glancing around, he felt his heart begin to race in panic as he realized he recognized the voice of the person crying. 

"Dottie?" he asked, quietly, stepping up to the wall he heard the crying come from. Peering around the corner, he saw Dottie sitting on a step, shaded by some overgrown bushes and a tree. 

She jumped slightly at her name, looking up. Elboron's eyes widened as he saw her tear stained face and her trembling lower lip.

She sniffled, before hugging herself, turning away from him. "Go away, Bo," she said, her voice muffled by her tears.

Elboron didn't know what to do. On the one hand, he didn't know what to say to a crying girl to make her feel better. On the other hand, this was Dottie. He couldn't just leave her while she was in distress.

He carefully approached, sitting down next to her. After a long moment of silence, in which Dottie didn't look at him, and instead continued to tuck her head into her knees, he spoke. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She sniffled again. He quickly dug into his sleeve, and drew out a handkerchief. He never went anywhere without a handkerchief (at the instruction of his Hobbit uncles), and he found himself eternally grateful now. He handed it to Dottie. She took it, wiping her eyes. "Thank you," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "It's that damn Brand. He's a jerk." 

Elboron blinked. "What did he do?" he asked, his hackles rising.

"We were going to kiss," Dottie said, "At the waterfall. But… then…" she looked away, as if embarrassed or ashamed. "I decided I didn't want to. I don't think Papa or Ada would want me to, and… I think I'm not ready for that."

Elboron nodded slowly, waiting for her to continue.

"Then…" she blew her nose. "He said some really nasty things. He said I was a prude. That I made him think I like him. That I owed it to him to kiss him."

"What!" Elboron found himself standing, his heart racing with sudden, unrestrained fury.

She motioned for him to sit down. He slowly and reluctantly sat back down.

She sighed. "Then he said he didn't want to kiss me after all. That I'm not all that pretty, and I have an ugly smile, and he wouldn't want to kiss a girl with two fathers. He said it was unnatural…"

"What… happened then?" Elboron asked, hesitantly.

"Well," Dottie said, looking up with a sudden defiant look. "That was the last straw. I punched him in the face, and kicked him in the nuts, and then ran away."

Elboron quickly hid a satisfied expression behind a serene nod.

"Anyway, he can't complain about it because he knows what Ada and Papa would do if they found out what he said and tried to do," Dottie said. She sobered. "But it's still upsetting."

"Of course," Elboron said, putting out a hand to rub her back like he saw his own Da do when Mother was upset, but retracted his hand instead, unsure of himself.

"And the worst part is," Dottie sniffled again, her face falling into one of shame. "The worst part is… Bo, to make him like me more… I treated my real friend like dung. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have excluded you."

Elboron sighed, then gave her a smile. "I knew it wasn't like you," he said, charitably. "Besides, sounds like you had a worse afternoon than me."

She looked at his handkerchief in her hands. "I really am sorry," she said, looking up at him earnestly. "It really was terrible of me."

He gave her an encouraging smile. "It's okay," he said. "I just can't believe he said those things to you."

"I know!" she huffed. "Bo," she turned to look at him square in the face. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Elboron felt his heart freeze, his breath catching in his throat.

"Like," she began, "Do you think he's right? That I'm ugly?"

They stared at each other for barely a moment, as Elboron tried his best to gather the courage to reply, when suddenly Dottie seemed to remember something.

"Oh!" she said, "I was going to sneak into his room and put horse dung in his bedding. Want to help?"

"Uh," Elboron jumped, startled as if from a dream. "Sure," he said, and she giggled, grabbing his hand and pulling him up to his feet.

"Come on, before they get back!" she said, pulling him down from the steps and towards the royal stables. 

As she looked back at him, her face bright with laughter, Elboron smiled, too shy to share his answer to her question aloud.