[He spends the day hardly putting the child down at all, gladly walking with him and feeding him, singing to him softly in elvish the same songs he had once sung to his siblings to help them get to sleep. The child looks nothing like them, really, but he is family and Adar could not think about anything but that sweet face the entire day.
He eats at some point, the child eats seemingly endlessly. He notes the crib, the humourous choice of bauble for it and still doesn't set him down. He has no interest in losing any amount of time he might be granted with such a happy, perfect little babe whose life might actually be worth living.
By the end of the day he is nestled on a soft chair, the babe asleep against his chest while he croons softly to it, an old song one of his grandparents had taught him long ago. His eyes are closed as he just enjoys himself and the weight and scent of the babe that lays on him.]
no subject
He eats at some point, the child eats seemingly endlessly. He notes the crib, the humourous choice of bauble for it and still doesn't set him down. He has no interest in losing any amount of time he might be granted with such a happy, perfect little babe whose life might actually be worth living.
By the end of the day he is nestled on a soft chair, the babe asleep against his chest while he croons softly to it, an old song one of his grandparents had taught him long ago. His eyes are closed as he just enjoys himself and the weight and scent of the babe that lays on him.]