Four Seasons

It drifts within the caresses of the cool breeze.

It sweeps across the noble bearing of the earth.

It floats, skimming the surface of the sea.

That infernal elf was singing out in the cold again!

From individual flakes, a thick blanket of snow seemed to cover the world yet again, as it is wintertime.

I kicked the door open with no small effort, making a mental note to ask Maglor to shovel the infuriating snow off our doorstep.

I trudged through the night, lantern aloft and ever faithful Figwit by my side. In an improvised and improved version of Maglor's elven duffel bag was stuffed almost to the point of near impossibility of removal of items contained within, the strained button ring almost burst at its seams.

Sparkling jewels sprung alight in the velvet murkiness of the skies. The largest of all lays dormant tonight. I've always fancied that my parents are one of those stars in the skies, looking down on me with love and affection. Unfortunately, I can also imagine my father's trite remarks down my back, particularly referring to my lack of common sense of trying to hunt down an elf no doubt equipped with polished skills of the evasive arts from humans like me.

My mother would be throwing her wooden cooking spade back at him.

He'd be grunting in pain and insulted her parentage again.

Funny how that marriage lasted 30 years, all they did was argue. The word divorce and seperation never appeared from their lips, though.

It appeared in mine.

The lantern died out. I cursed in the so-called secret language of the dwarves (Orin's balls!), and set down all my burdens. Then I attempted to reclaim the light with flints.

Figwit watched with baleful eyes, his alert nose sniffing for possible danger.

I tried fitfully, almost blind as humans are apt to be without the aid of fire.

Figwit's ears suddenly went taut, his usually playful whines now in a deep threatening growl.

The word "oh, Valar take me" flashed across my mind. With trembling fingers, not from the weather I tried again, and again and again...

'Sometimes things are so bad it was all that I could do but to scream. Ironically, as the daughter of the lawman, I was wealthy but the lawmen lived a frugal life. No fine dresses adorned me, no frivolities was approved. He believed truly in a man's dominance in a man's world. It was practical, he says. I did everything to gain his approval. I went to school, I learned well, but home wasn't always a welcoming place.

I suddenly missed Mother.

Figwit's position is now in a full guard dog position. I heard twigs snapping under the burden of great weight and hurriedly placed my flint in my pockets. Aiming for the beach where things are more familiar, I made my move, as silently as I could. I produced a pair of pairing knives. I am no warrior, but I can probably wound the beast enough to give it the notion that I will not be easy dinner.

I was the only young lady in the higher orders of Gondor's learnings. I learned law, totally unheard of.

I had hoped that my father would be proud. He was, in a rather odd way, as he was silent for a week when he knew. Things remained the same though afterwards. Under ceaseless assault of ridicule and irritation, little wonder my brother ran off to be a mariner.'

As the vegetation gets sparse, I glimpsed back enough to see the shape of a wolf, reasonably large in size. Where there is a wolf, there is usually the pack somewhere nearby. A scout, no, the alfa wolf. Ach, food must be scarce for them to actually foray near the coastline.

I prayed to the Valar to spare me as I moved as fast as I could.

True enough, when the alfa wolf howled, it was accompanied by answering cries that echoed to the sky. My blood ran cold, as the crashing sounds of the sea gets louder. Once we are at the beach...

Figwit bared his teeth, barking at the wolves. It was one of those moments when I truly wished that I had placed a collar and leash on him as I urged him to flee with me.

I was grateful to see the curling waves, inky black and grey to the sight.

Now what?

It occured to me that wolves are the ultimate stealth animals. They would not have been foolish enough to step on a twig nor weigh enough to break it. Wolves also do not hunt mankind or elfkind. Except for Thu and Cacrious from Maglor's stories that is.

My blood chilled.

In the snowcovered beach I resumed my attempts to light the lantern with flints, knowing that my chances are survival are now dependent on light. Wolves hate lights and fire.

Ah, a spark. No, don't die. Again, another spark. It doesn't work. The wolves are getting closer. Figwit, keep still. Another, come on, light, curse you!

The howlings of the wolves intensified. I was so intent on lighting my lantern with trembling fingers that I did not notice a figure approaching me.

"Fara," Figwit, you deuce! I jumped in my skin, Maglor's fierce orbs looking at me with worry. I squealed, actually. Most embarassing.

"Fara, what are you doing out in this weather?" 'oh, I wanted to be chased by wolves because they're cute'

"Trying to light my lantern?" Knowing better than to reply, he took the flints from my stiff, cold hands and proceeded to light my lantern with a single try. "Maglor," I pulled the sleeve of his thick woolen shirt that I made for him.

"Yes, Fara?"

"Wolves were chasing me, and I'd really like to hurry," he worried face creased into a smile. A smile? Is he mad?

"Worry not, Fara," says he. I genuinely thought that he had lost it. Then he went into the direction where I left the wolves and said loud and clear in his language. I am not language proficient, so it could have been singing to me for all I know. A few yelps and howls later he returned.

"Did you? You didn't? Wait, I don't want to know," I mumbled. He was having a conversation with the alfa male, he told me.

"Morgoth's will do not sway over them, they are friends to the elves," he said softly, and I know I-am-hiding-something when I see it.

"And?"

"What are you carrying?" he innocently diverted the subject.

"Oh, I nearly forgot," I relieved the strained button ring of its burden, told Maglor to hold the bottom end and pulled out its contents. I looked at him pointedly up and down. He was wearing leather breeches and just the woolen sweater over a tunic beneath. I was, from head to toe, reinforced against the frigid cold with many layers. In my hands I held a thick coat trimmed with fur procured from Valar-knows-where which reaches down to the knees. "A drop of water will reach the ground frozen and you traipse around with naught but what you are wearing now."

"Elves, mellon nin, are impervious to the cold," he said, but put the coat on none-the-less.

"Says you."

Figwit wagged his tail and begged for a rub in the belly from Maglor. He complied, enjoying himself with our little moments.

"Maglor, what do you mean by friends to the elves?"

"We awakened the trees and spake with them, as we are the first to come and devise the spoken words.""

"The wolves, Maglor," I said flatly in a tone that all males seem to respond similarly.

"We, ah, had an agreement."

"Spit it out."

"I asked the wolves to look out for you and warn you should any danger approaches and should you venture too far alone," I stopped on my tracks.

"You tell me that you asked wolves to guard me and told me nothing of this?"

"Ai, yes," he looked guilty.

"You could've informed me."

"I, uh, thought you won't take it, well, you do tend to be...opinionated," of course I am opinionated, I don't like strange surprises in my life!

"Figwit was on full alert just now, if the wolves were friends, why did he growl?" That caught Maglor's attention.

"That could not be, Figwit are friends to the wolves," I raised an eyebrow at him. Figwit knew?

"It was passing strange, though," I commented blandly.

"Tell me what you saw and heard," he faced me.

"Twigs snapped, then I saw the wolves and assumed it was them at first but wolves..."

"They make no noise while hunting," he finished for me/

"Exactly. Any ideas?"

"Outsiders?" it was a term we called of those who come from the towns. "Fara, go home. I will be with you soon," then he sped off with typical elvish fashion. I decided that to be fair to the Elfinesse I'll credit it to impulsive and foolish Noldorin carelessness.

I grunted and resumed trudging through the snowy and sandy shores back to our little cottage. I was still nervous. It felt rather strange, having wolves as extra bodyguards other than Figwit. As if the elf wasn't infuriating enough. I crushed the word sweet off my brain.

"Some comfort you are, Figwit, collaborating with the elf."

Again, I was reminded that the doorstep needs sweeping and shooed Figwit inside. I painstakingly removed the layers of clothing one by one and used the lantern to light the fireplace. I'm not going through that again. Figwit happily laid himself at his usual place and I set to make two cups of tea while waiting for Maglor to return.

It wasn't long, thank the Valar.

The door opened with Maglor brushing snow off himself. "The doorstep needs shovelling."

"We need to talk," I placed his cup of tea on the small table.

"Yes, we do," he absent mindedly took his coat off and hung it.

"What was going on there?" I asked as I sat down on one of the armchairs. He chose the other.

"The wolves smelled something that wasn't supposed to be there and so chased you away from it. I asked Giran, the alpha male to show me where it was, and I followed it. It happened to be human tracks. Whoever it was, he was gone."

"That's it?"

"That's all." All is calm but for the crackling fire.

"Your tea's getting cold," he took it from the table and drank it.

"It's still good."