"Wicked Smart" now has twelve reviews, which makes me very happy. Thank you all so much.

Chapter 14: Battle of the Century

"I see nothing wrong with power as long as I am the fellow who has it"

-Norman Cousins

A good long time passed, and nothing happened. I kept hoping every day that the army would return victorious (or at least return), but they didn't, and I was sick with worry. Well, I wasn't the only one, as I soon found out.

One night I woke up to the sound of sniffing. It took me a second to remember where I was, and when I did I lit a candle and looked around. Sitting by the window, crying, was Dinniel.

"Hey, Din," I said softly, sitting next to her. "Are you okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sitting by the window crying in the middle of the night. Yes, O perceptive one, I'm just great."

"Well, what's wrong?" I asked, ignoring the jab. Long ago I'd learned to never take Dinniel too seriously when she was sad/mad.

"I'm worried," she said. "Idril, I hate war. I hate the thought of people getting hurt. I just want everyone to come home!"

I put an arm around her shoulders. "I know how you feel. It's awful, both of our dads being gone. And your brother, too."

"No, you don't!" Dinniel snapped. "I love my dad, Idril. He always used to tell me that I was the best girl in the world and that he was proud of me no matter what. And my brother taught me half of what I know, and he's always been there for me. Who do you have in the army? A father who thinks you're useless because you're a girl and a cousin who thinks you're hot. And you claim to love them—at least, you claim to love your father—but I haven't seen you cry or even worry. Not that I blame you or anything, but you don't really love any of your relatives. You don't love anyone!"

"I love you and Meleth," I protested. "And I loved Aunt Aredhel when she was alive, and I'm fairly sure that I loved my mother. And I do love my father. I have to. He's my father."

"Exactly!" said Dinniel. "You love him because you have to. You love Meleth and me because you have to, too. We're your only friends in this world, so you have to love us even though you think we're stupid, frivolous bimbos. If you keep thinking that being clever makes you superior to everyone else, someday you're going to end up completely alone." She stood up and stomped off, leaving me staring out the window and very awake.

Was I incapable of love? Of course not. I just didn't want to fall in love, because it would mess up my life and end in heartbreak like almost every other love affair in my family. And I didn't think that Dinniel and Meleth were stupid, frivolous bimbos, or that I was better than everyone else…did I?

Maybe I was stuck-up and loveless. I had always thought of myself as being smarter than my friends. But they never acted like they were that smart. How was I supposed to know?

But I was supposed to be perceptive. Maybe I was just so wrapped up in myself that I couldn't notice anything about anything else. And Dad…how was I supposed to know what he was really like? I'd always seen him as the stern, irritating king of Gondolin, because that's how I'd gotten used to him. Aunt Aredhel had once said that he was trying to protect me, and I didn't want protection, so I just figured he was trying to be a jerk, but perhaps he wasn't. Huh…maybe he was just trying to be a good father but didn't know what it took.

This was all so confusing that finally my brain gave up and I fell asleep.

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

I awoke the next morning to Dinniel shaking my shoulder. "Idril! Idril, wake up!"

"What time is it?" I asked, opening my eyes and standing up.

"It's nine-thirty. Everyone else is up already."

"Crud. Look, Dinniel, I was thinking about what you said last night…"

She laughed. "Oh, please, darling, you didn't take that seriously, did you? I'm not responsible for what I say when I'm tired and worried. Sorry if it bothered you."

"A little," I admitted. "But what I was going to say was, you were right. I do act like I'm better than a lot of people, and I'm sorry. You and Meleth are the best friends I could ever have and I really do love you both."

"That's good to hear," said Dinniel brightly. "Now, let's get you dressed and downstairs. Hurry, hurry!"

"Why are we in such a hurry?"

"What, don't you know? Oh, right, you weren't awake. The king is home!"

"Finally!" I cried. "Thank the Gods. Is everyone alive?"

"Well, I doubteveryone's alive. People do tend to get killed in wars, you know."

"Okay, is everyone of importance to us alive?"

"Let's see," said Dinniel thoughtfully. "Your dad and cousin are alive, and my dad and brother are alive, and they're important. Glorfindel and Ecthelion are alive too, so that's good. Most of our other guy friends are alive too. So yeah, I guess everyone important's alive."

"Good," I said. "Give me five minutes."

Five minutes later, I was dressed and everything, and Dinniel and I went downstairs to greet Dad. He was on the couch in the sitting room looking depressed, with Maeglin standing nearby. I ran over and hugged him.

"Dad! I'm so glad you're home! Are you okay?"

Dad patted me on the shoulder. "Idril, my girl, I'm glad to see you. How did things go when I was gone?"

"I took care of things all right," I assured him. "But you're stalling. What happened? Who died?"

"A good many people," Dad sighed. "Idril, we lost."

I stared at him. "We lost?"

"Yes. And your uncle Fingon was killed."

"Oh no!"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"How?"

He shook his head. "It's not the sort of thing you tell your daughter."

"To heck with that, I want to know. Come on, Dad, you know I can handle it."

"Well," said Dad, "to sum up, a Balrog gave him a good blow to the head with an axe."

"Ick."

"I told you it wasn't the sort of thing you told your daughter. But that's not the only bad news, I'm afraid."

"Dad," I said. "We lost the battle. Uncle Fingon is dead, and, if I'm correct, you're now the king of the Noldor. What more bad news could you possibly give me?"

"What's so horrible about me being king?" asked Dad, frowning.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "Just tell me the other bad news."

"This will probably affect you more than it did Maeglin and me," said Dad. "Idril, your friends Hurin and Huor were most likely killed. They were giving us a hand towards the end of the battle, and things eventually got so bad that they told us to leave while we could and that they'd cover for us. I don't see how they could have gotten out of that alive."

I stared at the floor, blinking back tears. This is going to sound horrible, I know, but I was more upset about Hurin and Huor (possibly) dying than about Uncle Fingon's death. Sure, Uncle Fingon was family, but I'd never really known him that well. Hurin and Huor were like my little brothers, and it felt awful to think of them being dead.

"Oh, hey, didn't Huor say something to you before we left?" said Maeglin suddenly.

"In fact he did," said Dad. "You'll find this interesting, Idril. Before we left, Huor said something rather odd. He said, 'Even though I'm pretty much screwed and I'll probably never see any of you again, I can tell you right now that from you and from me a new star shall arise.'"

"Bloody mortal," muttered Maeglin. "What did he even mean by that, anyway?
"Who knows?" said Dad. "Anyway, Idril, I believe they're preparing a bit of a homecoming feast for us. You'll join us, won't you?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I'll come. I just need a second to think."

Dad nodded, and he and Maeglin left the room. I stared at the rug for a while like it was the most interesting thing I'd ever seen, rubbing my necklace and wondering what on earth was going to happen to all of us.