Elrond's spider fixation started early 🕷️🕸️🖤
"Elrond, child, put that thing down," Maedhros pleaded, and because he was not above bribery, "I shall give you one of Cook's special honey cakes, how does that sound?"
But Elrond, every bit as stubborn as his cursed ancestors, only hunched further over the hairy blob of darkness he was cradling in his palm. "No," he snapped, "she's my friend, I won't let you squash her."
Closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath, Maedhros pinched the bridge of his nose and counted down from twelve. It didn't help – even without looking, he could feel the thing's hateful, bead-bright eyes swivelling around in their sockets, glaring right at him.
"Maglor," he said, through gritted teeth, "would you care to say something?"
His brother, useless as ever, just hummed from his place by the window, fingers busy braiding Elros' hair. "No. Not really."
Maedhros shot him a nasty glower, but Maglor remained unfazed by the threat of his ire. "What?" he said, infuriatingly insouciant, not even looking up from his task, "This is on you. I told you we should let them play with the village children."
Biting back a curse, he looked back at Elrond, readying himself for another round of negotiations, only to find the boy crooning reassurances to the wicked creature in his hand. Holding the thing to his cheek, he was keeping up a steady stream of "Don't worry, I won't let the Bad Elf hurt you. You're a good girl, aren't you? Yes, you are, you're my friend..."
Maedhros' eye twitched. Curse Ungoliant and all her wretched spawn. He tried another tack. "Spiders are evil, boy. Crimes against nature. One helped kill our grandfather, you know. They are not suitable pets. We have to get rid of it, before it gets bigger and tries to eat you."
Elrond shot him a deeply unfriendly look. "You helped kill our grandfather," he said rudely, "and I'm not going around trying to squash you, now am I?"
And well, what was Maedhros supposed to say to that?
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