The Singer's Girl by Lady MSM

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Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Rille turned twenty that summer, so Vanafinde and Mardan had a bit of a party for her—“to celebrate the last year she’ll ever listen to us,” Mardan said. I went, not only because Vanafinde had invited me but because Rille was a sweet girl and it was fun, being around a lively kid like her.

Hallamar, Rille’s seventeen-year-old brother, had managed to pull himself out of the stable for once, even if he didn’t look too pleased about it. He was a big lad with his mother’s dark gold hair but none of her social graces, and felt a lot more comfortable with horses than people. I got along with him just fine, though, since I knew how to talk to horses and was teaching him.

Rille, being the village darling, was of course surrounded by a group of boys all eager to talk to her or dance with her. I practically had to elbow them away as I went to give Rille her present—a blank book with a green cover, since I knew she liked to write things down.

“I know it’s not much,” I said. “But you’ve got just about everything anyway, so what can a poor old lady like me possibly give you?”

“It’s beautiful, Andril, thank you,” she said, giving me a hug. “But of course I don’t have everything. No one’s got everything.”

“Well, you’ve certainly got enough boys,” I said wryly. “I have to say, I’m a little jealous.”

Rille laughed. “I would think one would be enough for you, Andril!”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You and Maglor, of course. I was talking to the blacksmith’s daughter and she said her mom said that you and he are practically a couple now.””

“I wonder where she got that idea?” I asked, shaking my head. “And here I thought she was sober at that Yule party.”

“You mean it’s not true?” said Rille, sounding disappointed. “Too bad. I mean, he’s a prince. He’d be good for you.”

“I think you’d better wait until you meet him to decide how good he is,” I said. “Now, your young men are all glaring at me for taking you away from them, so I think I’d better go. Enjoy that book.”

She promised she would, and I went back to Vanafinde’s side. “Your daughter seems convinced that Maglor and I are a couple.”

“I’m sure she’s got her reasons,” said Vanafinde ambiguously. “Go talk to Hallamar; he’s just standing there, poor boy.”

Eager to talk to someone who didn’t give a crap about my romantic life, I complied and spent the rest of the party teaching Hallamar how to apologize to a horse. He was really a nice boy—it was a shame he was so shy.

I walked into our local pub, The Cart and Horses, some days later after shopping at the market, and nearly dropped my basket in shock.

“Maglor!” I said. “Also, Amrod and Amras! What are you three doing here?”

Maglor flashed me his usual grin and raised his mug. “I’m visiting this smashing pub, my friend. And Amrod and Amras insisted that I take them.”

“He hadn’t shown us around the village at all yet, even though he’s the one that spends the most time here,” said Amrod, shaking his head. “It’s really too bad of him, don’t you think, Amras?”

“’Course,” said Amras. “I mean, we’re living here now, aren’t we? We ought to know our way around it, shouldn’t we?”

“That does make sense,” I admitted. “But I didn’t have any idea that Maglor spent a lot of time here. I certainly haven’t seen him around very much.”

“I’m in the village all the time,” said Maglor indignantly. “It’s you who’s never here.”

“Who have you been spending time with if I’m not here?” I asked, feeling a bit indignant myself. “I mean, you barely know anyone here.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, darl…Andril. In fact, I’ve been spending a bit of time with your friend Mardan—nice chap, lets me do most of the talking, which I appreciate—and a few of the regulars here have been quite friendly to me. You all love me, don’t you, Alkarinque?”

Alkarinque, the pug-nosed, freckled barmaid, giggled and spilled some of the drink she was pouring. I frowned at her. Really, like his ego wasn’t inflated enough already…

“Observe, boys,” said Maglor, gesturing to me. “This is Andril’s Please-stop-inflating-Maglor’s-ego look. You’ll want to remember that one; she uses it a lot.”

“I can see why,” said Amrod. “Doesn’t take much to get Maglor to start acting all cocky.”

“He says it’s an act?” Amras added. “But we really don’t believe him.”

“I had my doubts about that, too,” I said, sitting down at their table. “To be honest, I’m never sure if Maglor is telling the truth.”

“I wonder if they realize I’m still here,” remarked Maglor, seemingly to himself. “Ah, well.” He took a swig of his drink and hummed quietly to himself.

“Well, he’s out,” said Amrod. “Now we can have a real talk.”

And we did. Amrod and Amras (and Maglor, once he’d gotten out of his reverie) told me just about everything about their family—their half-uncles and step-grandmother, why their father hated their half-uncle Fingolfin so much and therefore pulled a knife on him (Amrod said it was a sword, not a knife, but I had no idea what the difference was), and the Silmarils, which were these fabulous jewels that Prince Feanor had made a few years back and which were his most prized possessions. Maglor rolled his eyes when we mentioned those, but the twins seemed real proud of their dad, although they did admit he’d been acting plenty paranoid ever since he’d made them.

“I don’t know if I ought to tell you this,” said Amras, “but they’re in Formenos, right now. Half our family fortune is. Dad thinks it’s the safest place in Arda, I guess?”

I nodded. “I’ll make a note of that for next time I want to rob you.”

“Better you than Melkor,” said Maglor. “It’s that bastard’s fault we’re in this mess to begin with…not, of course, that we’re not enjoying being here,” he added, and glanced around at the pubgoers who were obviously eavesdropping on us. “I think it’s best if we don’t go into that right now.”

“Well, I’d better get going,” I said, disappointed—I’d been wanting to hear about Melkor. “I’m glad we met up.”

“We’ll see you around, of course?” said Amras.

I nodded. “You still haven’t told me everything I want to hear.”

After that, I started going to town a lot more often. If Maglor and/or his brothers were hanging about, then I certainly didn’t want to miss out on any of it. After all, I’d known them for a good deal longer than anyone else in Elk Woods.

Maedhros and Maglor apparently decided to meet me halfway, as they began to drop by my house fairly often (usually when I was in the middle of working). I acted like they were annoying me, but truth be told, I appreciated it. I’d never realized how lonely living out in the woods was before.

On the fourth or fifth time they came to visit, the first words out of Maglor’s mouth were, “Andril, do you have any remedies for overcaffeination? I unwisely decided to have three cups of coffee within the last three hours and I feel like I’m going to black out.”

“I thought you were fidgeting more than usual,” I remarked. “Here, have a seat. You too, Maedhros.” They complied, and I went about making up some tea for Maglor. When I handed it to him, he drank the entire thing in one gulp and then fell fast asleep.

“Good Lords, is he all right?” said Maedhros, looking dubiously at his brother.

“He’ll be fine; he just needs to sleep it off,” I replied.

Maedhros shrugged. “You’re the healer. Maglor drinks too much coffee anyhow.”

“Is that where he gets all his energy from? I knew it couldn’t possibly be natural.”

“Actually, it mostly is. High energy runs in our family. You should’ve seen Mom when she was working on a project…” He trailed off. “I miss Mom.”

“I heard she didn’t want to come to Formenos,” I said sympathetically, trying not to sound too curious. “Did she…”

“Basically, things had been off between them for a long time—ever since Dad made the Silmarils, really. Dad started spending more time in his workshop, Mom would go visit her hometown for days at a time, and then when this whole thing started with Dad and Uncle Fingolfin they got into this huge fight and Mom refused to come with us. It’s a shame…she’s the only one whose advice he’s ever taken.”

“Maglor’s told me a bit about your mom. She sounds smashing.”

“He’s the one that takes after her the most.” He gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher. “He likes you, you know that? I’ve never seen him this excited about a girl.”

“I like him too,” I said. “I think he’s a nut, but I like him.”

“How?” asked Maedhros.

I stared at him. “How? I…I don’t know.”

“Well, think about that.”

Bewildered, I told him I would, and the conversation changed to something funny that the twins had done recently. Eventually, Maglor woke up, seemingly cured, and they finished off most of the food I had in my house and went on their way. I smiled as I watched Maglor walk away—that skipping walk of his was really adorable, and he’d looked so sweet when he’d been asleep in my chair.

And of course it was at this moment that I figured out why I and everyone else had been acting so odd lately. Curufin, Maedhros, the twins, Rille—even me, with my constant covering up of my real age.

Apparently, because Maglor was sweet on me.

And why had I been lying about my age? Because I hadn’t wanted Maglor to think I was an old lady.

Because apparently I was sweet on him, too.

Who would’ve thought it?

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The Singer's Girl by Lady MSM

Chapter 5