For Love or Money by Lady MSM

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Nerdanel and I Go Down Below


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Chapter 6: Nerdanel and I Head Down Below

 

            Lately it’s occurred to me that I’ve been away long enough for Father to basically confirm that I’m not in the city. As a result, he’s probably gotten quite worried about me. And while I’m not ready to come home and I don’t want anyone to know where I am, I would like to let my father know that I haven’t left him the way Mother did. Sending a letter directly to him would probably be too dangerous, but I could have someone pass on the message…

            In a flash of inspiration, I grab a pen and dash off a note to my old friend Ambarhil.

 

            Dear Ambarhil,

 

            Yes, it’s me, Feanor, and no, I have not been killed or robbed or gotten lost. I am currently doing quite well and staying with some very good people in a town I can’t name.

            I’m not in the mood to come home and I’d rather not have my family find out where I am, so you’ll have to excuse me if this letter is somewhat vague. Please let my father know that I am doing well and studying hard.

            I don’t know when I’ll be coming home.

 

Yours,

Feanor

 

            I fold it up, scribble Ambarhil’s address on the outside, and head into the kitchen. “Harma,” I say, “if I wanted to get a letter to my family, who should I send it with?”

            Harma thinks for a moment. “I believe Mahtan’s sendin’ some things to Tirion in a few days. Sure and we could have yer letter delivered along with ‘em.” She smiles. “Missing yer family, are ye? I hope they at least know where ye are!”

            I have a brief moment of panic—dear Gods, she’s on to me!—before I realize she was just joking. I have got to learn to control my paranoia.

            To avoid continuing this conversation, I head back to my room, wondering when I’ll wash my clothes. My hair and my nightshirt and most of my other possessions have started to acquire that weird smell that the rest of this house has, and I’m not particularly fond of it. It’s some kind of combination of horses and wool and stew, and if I came back to Tirion smelling like this Indis would probably throw me out again.

            “What’s with that expression on yer face, Ernil? Sure and if ye keep it up yer face will freeze like that. Not but that I’m sayin’ it wouldn’t be an improvement.”

            “Nerdanel,” I say without turning around, “while you’re very funny, would you mind keeping the insults to a minimum this morning? I’m a bit too distracted to think of any good replies.”

            “Oh, I was bein’ serious,” she says. “Anyway, if yer in the mood to see me workshop now’s yer chance, seeing as it’s the only free time I’m likely to have today.”

            My nosy-craftsman instinct (yes, that’s a real thing) kicks in, and I immediately forget about everything else that’s going on. “I’d love to see your workshop, but would you mind not being horribly rude to me while we’re there? Remember, you and I are frenemies now.”

            “That remains to be seen, now doesn’t it.” She’s smiling, so I figure I must have done something right. “Come on,” she continues, picking up a candle. “Hope yer not afraid of the dark.”

            “Have you noticed that you’re incredibly cryptic about everything?” I ask her as we head outside.

            “Oh, if it isn’t the pot calling the kettle black. Yer not exactly the most forthcoming lad in Arda, ye know.”

            Well, that’s because I’m lying about almost every single aspect of my life, I think. You have no excuse.

            I’m fairly surprised when we enter the forge. It’s a small building, and I hadn’t noticed anything unusual about it last time I was in here. “Your workshop’s in here?”

            Nerdanel smiles slyly. “Not quite. Just a moment.” She lights the candle and bends down to the floor, illuminating what looks like a small handle built into the floorboards. When she pulls back on it, a small door built into the floor (another spontaneous poem) comes with it.

            “Be careful when yer climbin’ down here,” she warns me. “This ladder’s pretty old.” With that, she disappears below the floor. I hesitate—darkness and ladders both make me nervous—before realizing that if I freak out Nerdanel will torment me nonstop. So down I go.

            When I get to the bottom I’m standing in a small, dark room with a table, some tools, and a stool in it. I can’t really see much else, since Nerdanel’s candle is the only light we’ve got right now.

            “Ye may not know this, Ernil, but me family didn’t always live here,” says Nerdanel. “We only moved to this house after Da started making a bit more money—I was about seven at the time. Anyway, one day I was exploring and I found this room. I think the people that lived here used it as a wine cellar.” She deftly leaps up onto the stool and lights a lamp hanging from the ceiling. “And now it’s all mine.”

            Once I blink a few times to get used to the light, I can actually see what’s in the room. And the first thing I see is an angry dog snarling at me.

Of course I immediately jump back, causing Nerdanel to snort with laughter. “Relax, Ernil,” she says, tapping the dog on the head. “I told ye I was good, didn’t I?”

“Wait. You made that?” On closer look, I can see that the dog is, indeed, a statue sitting on a shelf. I allow myself a moment of embarrassment before doing the obligatory gushing over the work. “Nerdanel, you’re brilliant! You weren’t joking when you said you were good at this. I’m actually jealous!”

Nerdanel smirks. “That’s not even me best. I’ve made all sorts of animals. People, too. Those two are Mam and Da, see?” She indicates two perfect likenesses of her parents (at least from the shoulders up—I don’t think she has enough material to make anything more).

I shake my head. “Look at the workmanship on those. I swear, you’re as talented as your father. You could make a fortune doing this, Nerdanel.”

“Sure and I’m flattered, Ernil,” says Nerdanel sadly, “but I don’t think I could.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I suppose the people here might not be sophisticated enough to appreciate your talent, but…”

“It’s not that they’re not sophisticated,” she interrupts. “It’s that people around here don’t have much money and they’re not going to spend it on things they don’t need, and who are ye to criticize them for that?”

“Well, all right. But in Tirion…”

“I can’t just move to Tirion, Ernil. Sure and ye may not know this because yer a spoiled rich boy, but it’s not easy for a lone country girl to move to the city with no money and no one to stay with.”

“Why can’t you ask your parents for help? I’m sure they’ve got some extra money to set you up as an apprentice.”

“No, they don’t. Don’t ye think I’ve asked them?” Nerdanel snaps. “Da may get a lot of business, but he doesn’t charge much for anything he makes. And he’s got a house to take care of, and land, and a family, and animals, and you! Ye do realize what we’re sacrificin’ to keep ye here? We’re givin’ ye cheap room and board, and free training, and even when yer money runs out Da’s still going to let ye stay here! Ye think Da took ye in because he wanted to make a profit? No, it was because yer just a kid and ye showed up in the middle of the night in the pourin’ rain and ye didn’t have a place to stay. We wanted to help ye, Ernil. Ye didn’t seem like anything but a poor runaway.”

I take a step back in horror. Have they known this entire time what I am? But no, Nerdanel keeps going.

“Ye’ve probably noticed, Ernil, that I haven’t been as nice to ye as me parents are. Want to know why that is? It’s because ye go around with this sense of entitlement. Like yer a real prince and we’re all yer subjects, and ye deserve to get everything ye want when ye want it. Me mam’s been up all night makin’ clothes for ye because ye were too stupid to bring yer own. Da’s working at half his usual pace so he can teach ye. Ye do yer chores wrong half the time and I have to clean up after ye, but do ye ever apologize or try to make anything more than the least effort? No!” She shakes her head, her eyes full of fury. “After all we’ve done for ye, ye still think yer superior to us. But yer not, Ernil. Yer no better than me or anyone else here. If anything yer worse off than us because at least we know our place. And ye don’t ever think about anything ye say. Coming in here and tellin’ me I ought to go to Tirion and reminding me of all the things I can’t have…” She shakes her head. “Listen, I’m sorry. I thought after yesterday—when we were talkin’ in town—that we could really be friends. But I don’t think we can. I don’t think we can even be frenemies. I just…I just wish ye’d leave me alone.”

An unfortunate thing about me is that when someone loses their temper, I tend to lose it right back at them—only worse.

This is one such time.

“Fine,” I hiss. “I’ll leave you alone. I’ll never speak to you again, if that’s what you’d like. But first, since you’ve been so damn honest with me, the least I can do is return the favor.” I’m starting to see red and I know I’ll say something I’ll regret, but I don’t care. “I’m sick of the way you’ve been treating me. Ever since I got here, even when you had no reason to hate me, you called me names and insulted me. You’re a malicious, vindictive girl and what’s more, you’re a quitter. You’re willing to give up on leaving this town before you’ve even tried! All you do is make excuses and whine about how miserable you are. Know what I think? I think you deserve to stay in Fana’s Crossing, and I think you deserve to marry Bril. You and he are the only people I’ve met here who haven’t treated me as a friend.”

Nerdanel’s giving me a look not unlike the one the statue of the dog has. Under normal circumstances it might make me a little nervous, but nothing makes me nervous when I’m angry. I open my mouth to say one last thing, but before I’m able to Nerdanel punches me in the jaw. Hard.

“Get out of here before I have to do that again,” she says, her voice eerily calm.

Without another word (not by my choice—I think she’s knocked my mouth out of place) I scramble up the ladder and run back to my room, where I sit on my bed and desperately try to calm down. I know I’ll have to see Nerdanel again today and I don’t want to go nuts and hit her—I’m pretty sure Mahtan won’t count that as keeping my hands off her.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry at anyone before. Not at my father, not at my friends, not at my brothers, not even after I had that huge fight with Indis (what was that about, anyway?). And along with it, I’m experiencing another emotion that I can’t remember ever having before.

I feel guilty.

Or maybe it’s just the pain in my jaw. Nerdanel sure can throw a punch.


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