Alfýkin: The Last of the Elves

Northbound

Nara bent her head over the papers scattered across the oak desk and rubbed her sore eyes. The words on the pages blurred together in her exhaustion. So many papers, so little time. With less than twenty four hours until her coronation, she was swamped, suffocating under a mountain of things not yet done. How did her father do it?

"Nara, dear," someone said
The door creaked open.

"Yes?" Nara asked hopefully. Her uncle, Jarron, entered the room maneuvering his large, heavy set body around the delicate furniture. Nara sighed. For a moment she had hoped it was Ithilwen coming to her rescue. Then she remembered her friend was no longer in the citadel.

"Is this a bad time?" Jarron asked. Nara shook her head and smiled at her uncle. He was a second father figure to her when her own father could not be around. She'd known the mild mannered man all her life, he never raised his voice, never returned an insult, and genuinely cared for others; his niece most of all.

Jarron lifted one of the many loose papers.

"Busy?" he asked. Nara groaned and flopped bodily across the desk. Jarron chuckled.

"How did Da do it?"

"Well, as my wife used to say, 'you won't get-'"

"'Anything done by complaining about it'," Nara finished.

"Well," Jarron laughed. "There you have it, the famous proverb."

"More like infamous. Da said that all the time."

"He was her brother," Jarron concluded. "She liked to say that."

"What did you want?" Nara asked.

"Just to see how my favorite niece fared."

"Jarron, I'm your only niece."

"Ah, you found me out." Jarron mocked guilt.

"Well, since you're here you can help me with these papers," Nara gestured to the mountain of paperwork. Jarron held up his hands.

"Oh no, the council needs me soon. I'm already late."

"What do they need you for?" Nara asked.

"Oh, you know, meetings. Usually once a week."

"Da never told me about that."

"He never got the chance," Jarron said somberly. Nara nodded numbly. There was a lot her father never got to tell her.

"All right, shoo! Get out. I have work to do." Nara waved Jarron away. He bowed and swiftly exited. Nara sighed again when he left. She rested her head in her hands.

"Da, I miss you. And Wen."

Silence.

"Okay! I miss Illeandir too."

She sighed.

"I hope they're all right."

...

(My special mark is gone! It's not on my new phone! Noooooooooooooooo!)

"Illeandir!" Ithilwen yelled. "Get down from there!"

Illeandir looked down through the branches at Ithilwen. He was some twenty feet above her in a lone tree that broke the vast, flat landscape. A stiff breeze sent his hair flying into the spindly branches behind his head. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He was free up here, with the tree swaying and whispering all around him.