8. Chapter 8
‘Yes’, says Nicole, staring at the horses. ‘She died 6 years ago, and I have never forgotten her’.
Too astounded to be tactful, I cannot help my next question, ‘What happened to her?’
‘Her name was Cindy, she was born with something wrong with her heart, she was sick most of her life, and one day the doctors could not help her anymore, and she died’, said Nicole.
My little friend seems close to tears, and I do not blame her, it is bad enough that adults die, but a child? I have killed children years ago in fits of near madness when my brother and I were seeking the Silmarils. I have paid for those acts, and I deeply regret them, but never have I seen a child die of illness and nor do I wish to.
Suddenly, Nicole turns to me, and speaks, ‘I know why you don’t want to ask Bronwyn. You have worked out that Cindy was her daughter’.
‘Yes, that is true, but I did not mean to upset you with my questions’, I say.
‘It’s Ok, any other time wouldn’t bother me, but in three days time, it will be 6 years since she died, and I am always sad around this time’. She answered me.
‘You mean Bronwyn lost her husband and her daughter only days apart?’ I ask.
‘Yep, she was not well for a long time. She was in a hospital in the city for a long time, I remember Mum and I going to see her’, Nicole says.
‘Poor woman, how did she survive such loss?’ I say, but not expecting an answer, more thinking out loud.
Nicole was about to answer me, when from the veranda of the house Bronwyn calls out ‘If you two have finished down there, you’d better get up here before we eat all the food’.
‘Race you up there, Maglor’, yells Nicole, and I let her beat me.
Food there is plenty, the two women have cooked enough for many more people then are here. As Nicole fills her plate with her favourite foods Bronwyn introduces me to her friend, Anita Pleydell. Anita is very like her daughter, and as I was told, nervous.
‘So, Maglor,’ she says ‘you really are an elf’, her voice indicates disbelief, and fear. I notice that she is standing back about ten feet from me, while Nicole and Bronwyn are much closer, Nicole all but touching me.
‘Yes, that is right’, I say deliberately pushing my hair behind my ears, to show the points. I have a feeling that Anita is thinking that I am some kind of crazy person, deluded into believing I am an elf.
I am of the Noldor, a prince of that people, I have lived in Valinor, and although I do not often choose to show my power, I can do so without speaking or moving when I wish. I decide to show my true self to this woman, who does not believe me. All I have to do is look her in the eye, and unveil myself. She cannot hold my gaze long, and staggers back a pace as if I have struck her.
‘Good God’, she whispers. ‘You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, Anita, I am. I am an elf, one of the Eldar, an immortal race, and one of the few left in this world.’ I say.
‘Are you going to hurt us?’ Nicole asks, looking scared now, having backed up to the two women.
Inwardly I curse myself for having frightened her. ‘No, I mean no one any harm. I am staying with Bronwyn for a while’, here I smile at Bronwyn trying to reassure her ‘and all I want is to be your friend, Nicole. Please believe me’.
The child looks uncertain, and I notice that Bronwyn has not moved, and both Nicole and her mother are looking to Bronwyn to see what to do next.
Bronwyn seems to come to some sort of decision, ‘I believe you Maglor. If you meant to hurt anyone, you could easily have killed me in my sleep last night.’ Suddenly she laughed, ‘Please warn us next time you do whatever it was you just did, you nearly scared us to death!’
Then we were all laughing, and the awkward moment had passed. Nicole was back by my side, insisting that I join her in the meal, which she called brunch, apparently a combination of lunch and breakfast.
Bronwyn watches the interaction between the child, and myself and soon relaxes again, once more treating me in the same casual yet caring manner she has since I met her. Anita, however is quite cautious, and resists all my efforts to lure her into conversation.
A vehicle pulls into the front yard of the house, and dark haired man gets out.
‘Brian’s here’, yells Nicole in joy, and dashes off to greet the visitor.
‘Who is Brian?’ I ask Bronwyn. We are alone now, as Anita has followed her daughter and is greeting the man very affectionately.
‘My cousin, he’s come to fix my truck for me. And before you ask, he is seeing Anita, and that is real reason he is here’, Bronwyn says.
The other three vanish out past the barn, talking and laughing. I wonder how many more people I shall have to reveal myself to, and as if reading my thoughts Bronwyn says quietly ‘We won’t tell Brian who you are. He’s a nice guy, but he works for the FBI and I wouldn’t guarantee that you won’t become a subject for investigation if he finds out who you are.’
‘What should I do?’ I ask
‘Go inside. If I introduce Brian to you, just try to act like a normal human, Ok’, she says.
‘Normal! I am a normal elf’, I say feeling a little insulted.
‘No doubt, but lets not advertise that. I should have said ‘behave yourself’, I think after your little display earlier. Come on, don’t get cross, I’m not trying to insult you, just hide you’, she say, realising that she might have insulted me.
‘Very well, I shall as you put it ‘behave myself’, I reply to her.
So we go inside, and I take the opportunity to ask Bronwyn if she minds my looking at her papers in the Living Room.
‘No, go for it. If you really are as old as you say you are, maybe you can make sense of some of the stuff’, She say.
Good, I think to myself. Now for a real opportunity to look at things without needing to worry about being caught.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.