Chapter 10: Smoke on the Water

(Maglor)

The next morning, I woke up at the usual time (ten o' clock) and discovered that someone had left a piece of paper by my bed. Picking it up, I could see it was a letter.

This is what it said:

Dear Hotshot,

Yo, it's Melania. You didn't think that I'd cease all communication with you once you left, did you? You did? Hotshot, you idiot. I ought to smack you for that. But I can't, because I'm in Deep Lake right now, working on my parents' farm.

It's super boring here. Aside from the occasional party, nothing ever happens. Oh, except one of our sheep got out yesterday and pretty much destroyed our garden. It would have been really funny, except that it was kinda-sorta my fault and my mom chewed me out. Sigh. I really miss Alqualonde.

Say, I ran into Rillian the other day. I told her that I'd seen both you and your brother recently and that you were both doing fine, and said to tell her hi. She was furious. Rillian is hilarious when she's mad.

Anyway, my dad keeps talking about how I should start thinking about getting married soon, since I'm fifteen. I tell him that my being fifteen is exactly why I shouldn't start thinking about getting married. At which point he reminds me that my mother got married at eighteen. At which point I say, "Dad. I'm fifteen, remember? We just discussed that?" And then he gets mad.

I don't imagine your dad is pressuring you to get married young, as you're a dude. How come chicks have to get married young and guys don't?

Anyway, since nothing's been happening to me and you're probably wishing for some interesting reading material, I'm sending this letter to Alqualonde so Skunk, Lucky, Serpentine, and the rest of the gang can contribute to it. Then, hopefully, they'll send it to you. SKUNK! IF YOU'RE READING THIS, REMEMBER TO SEND IT TO HOTSHOT!

Sorry about that. Anyway, have fun in Snotty Rich Kid City. Peace out.

--Melania.

Hey Hotshot,

Greetings from your good buddy Skunk. So Mel sends me this letter and puts a note in it saying to add to it and then pass it around, so that's what I'm doing.

Things in Alqualonde are doing pretty good, except we've got a bunch of rich kids on vacation here who call us "townies" and act like they're better than us. So I (I'm working as an assistant cook in one of their beach houses. Don't say it—I'm a sellout) put a bunch of freaky spices in their food, and now the kids from that house can't taste anything for a week. Revenge is sweet.

Street Rat broke his wrist yesterday when he was jumping off a wall for a bet. There is nothing that dude won't do to win a bet. I'm pretty sure he's nuts. But then again, that's why he's in charge of the Underground.

Amlaith says hi and that he misses having you around. Also, he says you left a pair of shoes in your room, but that he's keeping them for sentimental purposes. Or possibly to sell them for big money when you're famous. Are you famous yet? You're probably not. If you were, I'm sure we'd know.

See ya, man.

--Skunk

'Sup, Shot in the dark…

Hi, it's Lucky. Although lately I haven't been too lucky because I broke my toe. (I stubbed it really hard on my bed, but that's not important) Hey, did you hear about Street Rat? He broke his wrist…oh, Skunk already told you about that. Cool.

So if you're wondering how Serpentine's doing, I think she's over you. She's going out with a new guy now. He's a few years older than her and works on the docks. None of us quite trust him, but we like him okay anyway. Why do we not trust him, you ask? Because he's not from the underground, of course. You should know that.

We all miss you around here. We all miss Melania, too. At least you're in the city, whereas she's trapped in a tiny hick town. Damn those parents of hers. But yes, I miss you too, and I hope you can survive the summer without killing any of your brothers.

Peace.

--Lucky

Hi Maglor,

Looks like I'm the only one calling you by your real name on this letter. And only two people called you by your real nickname (Shot in the dark, Lucky? Really). Well, not my fault. Anyway, yeah, we're doing okay over here, except that, as Skunk said, he totally sold out and started to work for one of those horrible rich families. No offense to you, of course. You may not be the best boyfriend, but you're not a horrible rich person.

Speaking of boyfriends, yeah, I have a new one. He's eighteen. He works on the docks. He's kind of shy and really nice. I think you'd like him. Do you have a new girlfriend yet? You probably do. I mean, we did a good job on you over here…you're so much cooler now.

Lotsa love from all of us here in Alqualonde (and Deep Lake, in Melania's case).

--Serpentine (aka Alcarine)

I smiled. My Alqualonde friends kicked so much ass.

So Serpentine had a new boyfriend. That was cool. I paused, waiting for a twinge of jealousy, but it never came. Wow, I was so mature.

Briefly, I wondered when and if I'd ever go back to Alqualonde. I probably would, of course. I mean, how can you not like a town that never gets cold? Plus, while people in Tirion were being generally nicer to me, you absolutely could not beat Alqualonde kids in the acceptance category. The only reason my Underground friends wouldn't like a person was if they were normal (ruling out most of Tirion).

Around that time, I realized that I needed breakfast, and so I went downstairs. As I was getting myself some toast, I heard voices coming from down the hall.

Obviously, I went to eavesdrop. Wouldn't you?

"Feanor, are ye certain that this is a good time to talk?" Mom said. "What if the children hear? I'm not wanting them to worry."

A number of scenarios immediately flashed into my head: She's pregnant. Someone's gone missing. We have to move.

"Nerdanel, it's fine," said Dad. "Maedhros is off with friends, Maglor's still asleep, Celegorm took the dog for a walk, and the younger ones are outside. We can talk."

"All right." Mom sighed. "Sure and I can't believe he's retiring already!"

"I don't understand it either," Dad agreed. "I always thought my father loved his job. Can the stress be that bad?"

"Well, he is the king. I don't suppose it's exactly an easy line of work."

Wait. Hold everything. Grandpa was retiring?

Well, that took care of Who and What (and also Where, I suppose). Now, all that remained were Why and When.

"When is he going to step down, do ye think?" asked Mom.

"He told me that there were some important things he needed to sort out with the council and that he wouldn't be able to step down for at least a month."

All right, that was When. But WHY?!? No one was telling me that.

"Feanor," said Mom quietly, "do ye really think yer ready to be king?"

"Well, I think I am, but Fingolfin certainly doesn't," muttered Dad. "He's all set to prove to the council that I'm unfit to rule. Damn it, why did Dad remarry?"

Aha, so there was more to this. Obviously, Uncle Fingolfin didn't want Dad to have the throne. I knew how he felt—after all, if Dad was king, there was nothing to stop him from making the whole city go through a smith's apprenticeship.

That was a bad joke, I know. But give me a break, I was stressed.

I heard Mom sniff, and say, "Do you smell burning toast?"

Shit! My toast! My precious, precious toast! I'd let it burn! Damn, I had to get to the kitchen fast before they came to investigate and I got caught. Fortunately, I managed to, and by the time Mom and Dad came to the kitchen I was making a new piece of toast and acting like I'd just woken up.

"Hey, parents," I said in my fake-groggy voice. "Sorry, I kinda burned a piece of toast back there…I'm still kinda half-asleep."

"How long have you been up?" Dad demanded.

"Um…'bout six, seven minutes. Dunno. I've just been in here making toast. Mom, are we out of raspberry jam? 'Cause I can't find it…"

There, I pulled that off well, I thought. Now, what am I going to do about this Grandpa-retiring thing? I quickly put together my options:

Tell Mom and Dad that I heard them. Pros: I could get a bit more information. Cons: They'd kill me if they found out I knew.

Tell Maedhros/my friends about it. Pros: I could have help figuring out what to do. Cons: Somehow, word could get back to Mom and Dad that I knew, which would, once again, result in my death.

Not tell anyone anything. Cons: I'd have to keep a secret, which I'm not an expert at. Pros: No one would kill me.

So Option Three it was. Which left me with one last question: WHAT THE HELL WAS I GOING TO DO ABOUT THIS?

I really shoulda stayed in Alqualonde, I thought.