Four Seasons

A/N = This took me a long time to write. I'm working on the last of these four, since I'm keen for it to be as close to the original as possible. Hope you enjoy this!

-----------------------

Autumn is a marvelous time of the year.

I do curse the chilly wind.

Though I do also mourn the death of all that is green, the golden aftermath is a sight to behold from the endless blue that is the sea. It is also one of the best times for stocking up the winter stores. Hence the activities mostly consists of me pickling the spring fruits and the making of jam. I made some plum wine for special ocassions as well.

Dinner was roasted steak deep in the special gravy that I've concocted, baked potatoes steaming from the oven and fresh vegetables. There was cherry pudding for dessert. Even Figwit gnaws on a particularly meaty joint of cow, a feast in our standards.

"Fara, do you not drink the wine?" he poured a glass for himself.

"I do not drink the stuff, Maglor. I am fond of keeping dwarven hammers away from my head in the morning."

"Why do you keep it, then?" he sipped the wine contentedly, for such drinks are rare in the isolation that we keep.

"Because you like it."

Silence.

"Oh."

"May I ask you something, but you may refuse to answer if you wish," his fingers skimmed the rim of the glass.

"Why Maglor, just ask."

"You have not the flaxen hair or ways of Rohan, have not the appearance of the men from Elros's rule, though you may pass in Gondor you have not the colour of the masses. From whence did your line came?" that was unexpected.

"My great great grandfather was a trader from Harad who fled to Gondor. He was one of the few who refused the charm of Annatar, and thus exempted from Morgoth's evil will. Even though he was a refugee, he soon found his skill useful and built a home for himself here. According to the tale, his sons, for his own wives, yea, I had no less than 4 great great grandmothers of Harad stock, intermarried into the citadel's citizens. We assimilated but some traditions we still keep. We drink nothing that would induce drunkeness, remove our footwear before entering a home, and most unique of all serve not the Valar, but Ea the one God. Some traits still ran true as I have the look of my father more than my mother." I smiled to Maglor. "Does it quench your thirst of my history?" he looked very interested in my tale.

"Harad is a wondrous place, I heard."

"If sand and scalding sunshine as far as the eye can see is to your liking, I suppose it is," I said nonchalantly. Maglor still had that questioning look.

"Four wives?" he sounded scandalized.

"Yes, it is the most that one is allowed."

"Four?"

"The arrangement is common among the wealthy in Harad, I am told."

"At the same time?" and I thought all elves are totally ignorant in that area of knowledge unless married. I chuckled.

"That is inappropriate, Maglor." Undeterred, he pressed on, the pun obviously overlooked.

"Still alive?"

"Maglor!"

"I meant that he married all four of them living?" I nearly forgot that monogamy is the rule for elves.

"I'm sure that Finwe's wives Mireth & Indis are in Valinor having wifely sessions together now, discussing Finwe's latest bout of silliness. You're immortal, we're not. As we see it, better a latter wife than a contracted whore."

"Finwe, silly? But he married them when the first one died, and took none while she was living," he countered.

"The point is Maglor that it's acceptable in Harad society, but not in Gondor. Mahmud Yusoef was the last of our line who had 4 wives. His sons, my grandfathers were more forward, they married only one and visited the upper courtesans. It demeans the women more than the way we treat ours, but it is acceptable here."

Maglor mulled the new information within his mind, and shook his head.

"What?"

"Your ways are strange."

"Part of the reason I moved here, nobody can complain," he caught the hint of something else in my voice, something not even I myself noticed. He gazed at me with understanding, and inside me it stroke a chord.

Our palate is now clean (elves eats well) I cleared the plates and wiped the table clean. Then I took out my knitting basket, full of colourful yarn and my current project, a woolen sweater. Maglor, as always has started the fireplace and I, along with Figwit would sit for hours knitting and staying close to the warmth. He has this habit of simply staring at the fire with vacant eyes.

"Fara"

"Yes, Maglor?" the wooden knitting needles clicked in a rhytm of a pattern.

"How long have you stayed here?"

"Oh, since I was 25 or so," Maglor's brows creased to a frown.

"That is not long," I smiled knowing that the elven concept of time is far different than the humans.

"It's a living."

"Fara,"

"Yes, Maglor?"

"Were you ever...bound to another?" the clicking stopped, and I gave him an inquiring look.

"Bound?" It was fun making Maglor skittish once in a while. His face began to perspirate, and I had wondered whether elves sweat when they're nervous. He's so innocent too.

"Well, er...when an ellon meets an elleth and their souls sing the same song and they choose to join in which they uh, find much in agreement with one another and urm..agree...to produce elfings," he rambled, his gaze suddenly finding the carved deer that he had made very interesting.

Apparently they do. A glistening sheen not unlike the white yolk effect on the pastries I bake.

"Marriage?" I provided helpfully.

"Yes, I believe that is what the edain call it."

"Goodness, no," chuckling, I resumed my knitting.

It was peaceful for a moment.

"Fara....I..."

The crickets are very musical tonight. Maybe Daeron's hiding around somewhere playing his pipe-flute. Maybe Maglor would stop fidgeting with his own shirt.

"Spit it out, Maglor."

"Do not all humans marry young, around the age of 15 or so?" I chuckled.

"Are you implying that I am a very old spinster, Maglor?"

"No, no. Goheno nin. I.." he sputtered, eyes wide at the thought that he had insulted her unintendedly. I gave a low laugh and winked.

"It is no matter."

The issue remained hanging, at least in Maglor's head.

"I think you are lovely in your own way, Fara, and the edain are fools not to see it" I raised an amused eyebrow. Realizing his folly, Maglor coughed and moved silently to our storeroom, procuring a ball for Figwit to play with. He attempted to make Figwit chase it. Figwit simply stared at him as if saying "I'm not stupid", yawned and flopped on his back sleeping. I held my laughter.

"There was a few, Maglor. I could not decide which one I wanted."

"A few? Are edani women allowed the privilage of many husbands?" I looked up to see his teasing smirk. I felt my cheeks warm and blushed.

"It wasn't like that," at his questioning look I elaborated, "theological differences," I tried again at his vacant look, "religion. He serves the Valar, I serve the Ea."

"The Valar walked with my forefathers, and taught us many a trade. That is why we revere them so. Ea is simply the One who creates them."

"That's not the point. I loved him and it didn't work out," I confided to him, grief of bygone days in her eyes despite the years that have gone by.

"How did you met him?"

"Modreth was a colleague of mine in the Law Academy. We met in the institution of learning. I was constantly trailed by my companion, Mrs Darwein, and longed an escape from the dreary routine and critical eyes. Let's just say I was very adept at the art of evasion in the large halls of knowledge. I actually met him while jumping off a window."

"Companion?" he enquired.

"To safeguard my virtue. It was one of the condition that my father and the Dean himself set so that my reputation and apparent worth in the marriage market remains intact."

"Human ways are strange," he commented.

"I suppose we are," I agreed. Then the companionable silence went on awhile until Maglor got surprisingly emotional.

"Who were they to question the calling of two souls meant to be linked together?"

"Ah, if only you were there to plight Modreth's troth to my father. He won't hear of it. It was a long time ago. Modreth's married with 2 sons, last I heard, now a judge in the westward part of Gondor. Enough of me," I sighed and straighthened the current knitting work and put it back in the basket, "how about you?"

"Me?"

"Maglor, an elf who can sing the way you do must have had a horde of admirers, particularly beautiful elleths," I said. "Anyone special?" His expression remain impasse, and he rubbed Figwit's belly.

"There were...many, but none who sing back," he said softly.

"High standards, do we?" I said teasingly.

"No, no," he took my hand and placed it on his chest, "here." I was reminded of the first time I saw him cleaned up, and then I find his face deadly close to mine. Ah, to be born an elf. In another lifetime, in another place, in another world, so many ifs. I will not risk this friendship. I cleared my throat.

"Of course," I retrieved my hand back and busied myself tidying the place up. "The moon hangs high, it is time to take my rest," I turned to him and smiled, "Good night!"

Then sped to my room and closed to door, wishing that Ea would answer my prayers and swallow me whole now.

-----

Ea = the highest God
Valar = Angels/powerful beings created by Ea to govern Middle Earth since he's not around.
Harad = Think Middle East around Christ's time. Should be around there.