Makalaurë woke up and opened his eyes when he heard the birds singing.
He saw fly on the other side of the window, and sketched a weak smile.
Shivering, he pulled his white and red blanket over his small body.
At that moment, Fëanáro came in, carrying a tray which he placed on the bedside table.
- " How do you feel ? the elf lord asked his son softly.
- Tired, stammered the poor child. And I'm cold.
Nodding gently, Fëanáro finished opening the green silk curtains, then took his son in his arms, leading him to wash.
Makalaure was too weak to stand and was unable to care for himself. The adult helped him take off his light blue nightgown and get into the tub, then washed and dried him, helping him into a white tunic and dark blue pants with gold patterns.
Fëanáro then proceeded to braid his son's hair, tying the pigtails with dark blue ribbons, then brought him back to his bed and helped him feed and take the healing potions, while singing him a lullaby.
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THE SILMARILLION ONE SHOTS, IMAGINES & SH*t
FantasyTolkien fanfictions!! Sometimes crossovers!!
