He had his jewels for now—some he would never part with, his crown and the ring designed to match his wife’s necklace among them. Once Legolas began to hunt, there would be furs. Damnably foolish was the amount they needed to eat, now.
… the smell of cake, though he knew what else had been nibbling on it, still made him hungry. “Come, Legolas, my little Silvan. I tire of this foul air.”
What a comfort it was to have his son by his side! Better here than elsewhere, his location unknown, and Thranduil fearing for his safety. They slipped free of the tavern, heading for an alcove where the wind was not so sharp, and they were freer to speak. “Am I to expect a repeat of your thirty-first year, when you would eat nothing but rabbit?”
Not even seasoned, or baked—roasted, over a fire, eaten before meals in the Halls, leaving the princeling to do nothing but push his food around his plate—‘but Ada, I am not hungry!’ coming to him as perfect in recall as if they were there again. “I would request that we have fish too, and boar, if you can hunt it.”
no subject
… the smell of cake, though he knew what else had been nibbling on it, still made him hungry. “Come, Legolas, my little Silvan. I tire of this foul air.”
What a comfort it was to have his son by his side! Better here than elsewhere, his location unknown, and Thranduil fearing for his safety. They slipped free of the tavern, heading for an alcove where the wind was not so sharp, and they were freer to speak. “Am I to expect a repeat of your thirty-first year, when you would eat nothing but rabbit?”
Not even seasoned, or baked—roasted, over a fire, eaten before meals in the Halls, leaving the princeling to do nothing but push his food around his plate—‘but Ada, I am not hungry!’ coming to him as perfect in recall as if they were there again. “I would request that we have fish too, and boar, if you can hunt it.”