#or maybe a camio on something like bananza!

[lordgrimwing]

In Town #03

[for Maedhros and Maglor week, hosted by @maedhrosmaglorweek]

“Hello, Laurë,” Maryann said, seeing the barefooted child holding one of her little brother’s hands as they looked at the tins of hard candies kept behind a glass display case in the general store. 

The girl glanced over at her and turned away without answering, hunching her shoulders like she didn’t want to be noticed. She appeared as dirty and boyish as ever, wearing a patched pair of pants and an old linen shirt that Maryann was sure she’d seen the oldest child in when he was her size. 

The town school teacher sighed. She felt disappointed, seeing yet another daughter in the community saddled with chores and childcare at the expense of an education and the chance to find more in life than a husband to care for and more children. There was very little she could do about it, though. 

Laurë’s family lived in the mountains. From what people said in town, the family lived there for several generations as active members of the community, and it wasn’t until the last ten years or so after most of them moved away that the remaining members became more reclusive. The father was a suspicious man and rumor had it he was mad as a child and probably still was. He cared not one whit about any social pressure Maryann exerted over the continued absence of his children from the schoolhouse. The mother, a strong woman named Nerdanel, was something of a folk-healer who could be convinced to help when a doctor proved useless or unavailable. She tried speaking with her, suspecting she benefited from some formal education herself and hoped that would make her more open to discussion. However, she was met with a similar stony refusal. By now there was little hope of ever seeing the girl in one of her classes.

“He’s Maglor.”

She started at a voice so close behind her, bringing a hand up to her chest. She turned around and looked up at Laurë’s older brother. Though he couldn’t be older than fifteen, he was already as tall and broad as most grown men in town.

He glared down at her, arms occupied by two heavy burlap bags filled with some kind of drygood the family needed. “Don’t call him that again.”

Who? She didn’t think that was one of the children’s names and she was almost positive the little boy was named Curufin. Did he mean his sister? That didn’t make any sense.

“My apologies,” She said, noticing how his hands gripped the sacs, knuckles turning white. Stepping back to disengage from whatever was going on, she bid a hasty farewell and walked away, heading to the clerk to make her purchases.