New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
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Chapter 10
In contrast to what I thought, we did not receive news of the deaths of Maglor and his father and brothers a year after they’d left. Honestly, we didn’t hear anything. Even the Valar themselves didn’t seem to know what was going on. They did eventually come up with a replacement for the Trees—two Maiar were picked out to serve as new lights, which were referred to as the Sun and Moon. Other than messing with our timekeeping a bit, this didn’t really change anything.
I think Vanafinde sent a note to the entire town saying something like No one is allowed to mention Maglor to Andril or she’ll go crazy and die of a broken heart, because barely anyone did mention him. There were a few sympathetic looks and people asked me if I was all right with a little more concern than usual, but otherwise the subject of my errant fiancé was left untouched. It was actually quite touching, seeing my friends control their natural instinct to find out every single detail of anything scandalous that happens ever.
As for me, I believe I handled things quite well, considering. I never cried in public, and rarely in private, although I did occasionally have vivid dreams of Maglor’s death and wake up bawling. When I felt an overwhelming need to reminisce with someone, I headed down to Tirion to visit Nerdanel and Romenella. It wasn’t as easy to avoid questions in Tirion.
I wasn’t famous or anything, of course. Since I was a nobody from a small town and Maglor and I had never actually been married, I wasn’t half as interesting as Nerdanel or Queen Indis. But that didn’t stop people from knowing who I was, or occasionally stopping me on the street to say things like, “You’re that one girl, right, the one who Maglor was going out with or something?” To which I would always reply, “Yeah, I guess so,” and then hurried on my way before they could ask me anything else. Only a handful of them actually knew what my name was.
On my third visit to Tirion, I met one of the few who did know my name. Marvana was tall, dark-haired, and blue-eyed, came from one of the richest families in Tirion, and, as I found out later, had spent good portion of her time chasing after Maglor after he got famous (what could you say? The boy had charisma). She approached me when I was sitting on the porch of Nerdanel’s house one evening, possibly assuming that I would automatically know who she was.
“Andril!” she said cheerfully, as if I was an old friend she hadn’t seen in a while.
“That’s me,” I said, thoroughly bewildered. “Do I know you?”
She gave a fake-sounding laugh. “You might. I’m Marvana.” When she saw that my confused look hadn’t gone away, she sighed and explained, “I knew Maglor back when we were younger. And I’ve heard of you, of course.”
“I see,” I said (thinking what exactly does she mean by “knew”?). There was a long pause, as if Marvana was expecting me to say something else. When I didn’t, she smiled and sat down next to me on the porch.
“Listen, Andril, I know this must be really hard on you, having Maglor abandon you and all,” she said in a tone that was probably supposed to sound sympathetic but actually sounded oddly aggressive. “But you know how musicians are…”
“No, I honestly don’t,” I said. “How are musicians?”
“Well, you know, they have such short attention spans,” Marvana continued, giving me an unnervingly psychotic-looking smile. “A different girl in every town, you know. You shouldn’t take it too personally. I got over it quickly enough when he passed me over.”
Two thoughts popped into my mind. First, how many more times was she going to say the phrase you know when referring to things I was completely unfamiliar with? And second of all, despite my earlier speech to Romenella about how Maglor would find a new girl and forget about me, I was pretty pissed off that Marvana would treat my relationship with Maglor like it was just a quick dalliance. What the hell did she know about it?
“Maglor didn’t pass me over,” I responded, trying to keep my annoyance in check. “He’s just stupidly loyal to his insane family. And I have to say, you don’t know crap about our relationship, so I’d advise you to keep your misguided advice to yourself.”
“Don’t get so defensive,” said Marvana, still with that same unnerving smile. “It’s not like you two were engaged or anything.”
I laughed triumphantly. “See? You don’t know anything about our relationship. He did ask me to marry him, right before he left. And honestly, I have no idea why I’m arguing about this, since we met five minutes ago and you’re a psychopath! So I’m going inside now. Good afternoon.” I got up from my seat and fled into the house.
“Who were you talking to out there?” asked Romenella when I arrived inside.
“Some weird girl named Marvana who said she used to know Maglor,” I said. “And then she told me that she sympathized with Maglor ‘passing me over’ and tried to act like she knew all the details of our relationship. Is everyone in Tirion that crazy?”
Romenella wrinkled her nose. “Not everyone, but Marvana definitely has some severe issues. Just about everyone in town stays out of her way. And if she told you she and Maglor were ever involved, she’s lying—he hated her.”
I have to admit, it was a relief to hear that. And for the rest of my visits to Tirion, I most definitely followed Romenella’s advice.
“You’re leaving?” shrieked Rille some years later at my house. “Does Mom know about this?”
“Course she does,” said Hallamar. “I told her and Dad this morning. They’re both pleased for me.” He looked at me pleadingly. “Are you pleased for me, Andril?”
“Well, sure, I guess so,” I said. “How exactly did you get this job?”
“Well,” Hallamar began, “I was at the pub getting a pint when this well-off-looking guy comes in and says hello. So I say hello back, and we get to talking a bit, and he tells me he owns this big horse farm out west. So I tell him I know a bit about horses and how you taught me to understand them and all. And then he says he’s been looking for a new hostler and would I like to come and work for him, and I tell him I’d like to.” He shrugged. “It’s a good job, Rille. I’ll like it. And I haven’t been accomplishing much around here, you have to admit that.”
“But…” said Rille mournfully. “I mean, we’ll miss you.”
“Aw, sis…” said Hallamar awkwardly, putting his hands in his pockets and looking down at the floor. “I’ll write to you and all…”
“You’d better,” said Rille, sounding a little choked up. “You’d better, you dork, or I’ll never forgive you. When do you leave?”
“Tintilar leaves in three days and I’ll be going with him then,” said Hallamar. “That’s my new boss, Tintilar. I’ll introduce him to you. You’ll like him.” He glanced around nervously. “Listen, I’m going to go pack. See you at home.” He practically fled out the door while Rille just stared after him.
“This is unbelievable,” she said faintly. “What is it with guys? Why do they have to just…leave?”
“Well, be a little more realistic, dear,” I said. “Your brother’s never really felt like he fit in around here, and this job is perfect for him. And honestly, I’m surprised that you’re so upset about it. You’ve never seemed that attached to Hallamar.”
“Oh, Lords,” groaned Rille. “Do I seriously come off that cold? Oh, don’t tell me, I know I do. Listen, I love Hallamar. No matter how weird he is, he’s my brother and he’s always been there for me. I don’t want him to head out west and never come back.”
“He’ll be able to visit for holidays and all that,” I said. “Come on, Rille, be happy for him. This is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”
“You’re right,” said Rille with a sniffle. She gave me a hug. “Oh, Andril, this must be how you feel all the time.”
“Er,” I said. I couldn’t really explain to her that having your fiancé run off to almost certain death was a lot different than having your younger brother go out west to work on a horse farm. So I just patted her back and said, “It’ll be all right.”
True to his word, Hallamar left three days later. Rille, predictably, cried throughout the process, but Vanafinde was surprisingly calm.
“You’ll take care of him, won’t you, Tintilar?” she asked Hallamar’s new boss.
“Course I will,” said Tintilar. He was a handsome man with a cleft chin, sleek brown hair, and a drawling way of talking. “Honestly, m’dear, I don’t think this boy’s going to need much taking care of. I’ve never met anyone with more of a way with horses than Hallamar.”
Hallamar winked at me, which was both very kind and made me have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I’d never seen Hallamar wink before.
“…wouldn’t need a new hostler at all,” Tintilar was saying, “but my son’s gone off to the city to study and my daughter’s a sweet girl but not strong enough to handle the beasts, Varda bless her.” He winked at Hallamar. “You’ll like her, my man. Pretty as a picture and nice as hell.”
“I…I’m sure I will,” mumbled Hallamar. Rille grinned at me conspiratorially. Apparently the possibility of Hallamar “liking” his boss’ daughter was funny enough to lift her out of her depression.
“Well,” said Mardan finally, “good luck, Hallamar. Work hard. We’ll write to you.”
“We’ll miss you,” said Earya. He had recently entered his adolescent years and had become rather sulky and withdrawn, but now he looked nearly as choked up as Rille.
“I’ll miss you all, too,” said Hallamar. He embraced all of us in turn, whispering “Thanks, Andril,” when he came to me.
“Well, it’s been real nice meeting all of you,” said Tintalar brightly. “And now, m’boy, I think we’d best be on our way!” He hopped up onto his horse, and Hallamar got onto his. He waved at us once, cheerfully, and the look on his face was one of more excitement than I’d ever seen on him before.
“Goodbye!” he called, and the two of them galloped off, leaving a cloud of dust behind them.