Katia0203-This is a familiar ent; more to come on him in this chapter. The ellyn will also be back soon, no worries. Sorry about Elrohir; I'm rather fond of him myself. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.
Earthdragon-Yes, there are caves up in the mountains, a perfect breeding ground for all sorts of evil critters. There is more to come on the ent in this chapter. As for Duckie, I suppose she does potentially have a bit of human blood within her, but it isn't very substantial. Elrohir himself is more elf than peredhel and Duckie's mother is a full-blooded elf, making her very close to a regular elf, which is why she sticks out so much amongst the humans. All of your questions will be answered in due time. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.
Cyrilabar06-Thanks for the compliment.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or anything associated with Tolkien Enterprises. I also do not own any music by Stephen Foster or Thomas Haynes Bayly. Their lyrics are included in this fanfic and they are old enough to be considered public domain.
ooOoo
Guardians of Arda
By Ponytail Goddess
Chapter 4: The Dearest of Friends
Duckie awoke to the morning sun shining brightly through a canopy of green foliage that was much closer to her face than she would have normally expected. She immediately averted her eyes from the blinding light, only to blink a couple of times and look up again as she realized she was somehow moving through the forest while laying down. She could hear the sound of creaking wood, which was followed by a loud, booming noise that almost sounded like footsteps. The "booms" were so powerful that she could feel them vibrating her entire body.
Gasping, she sat up and grabbed onto a set of tree branches, which appeared to be functioning as a hammock beneath her body. The branches immediately lifted her upward and Duckie's hazel eyes widened. What she had thought was a dream turned out to be reality.
Against all odds, there was a tree holding her. A living tree! It seemed to have eyes, a nose, and a mouth, all surrounded by ancient bark that was riddled with moss and crawling with tiny insects. A little yellow songbird was perched on its eyebrow. When it caught sight of her proximity, it quickly flitted away.
"You are… awake." The tree drawled slowly in the deepest voice Duckie had ever heard.
It stared down at her, its large grey eyes clearly waiting for a response. Duckie stared right back in shock, her heart pounding frantically within her chest. She trembled in fear as she stammered out, "You're a… a… tree! A talking tree!"
"I am… no tree. I… am an ent." It bellowed, its tone almost sounding offended by her comment. Duckie quickly looked for a way to get away from her captor, but when she saw how high up she was, she quickly relinquished that idea and decided to try speaking with the unfamiliar being.
"What is an ent?" Duckie called out to him. "I have never before seen or heard of such a creature."
"An ent?" He repeated, his mossy eyebrows raising in surprise at her question. "My people… are called… Shepherds… of the Trees. We care for… the forests… forgotten by men."
"A caretaker of the forest?" Duckie reiterated quietly. "What is your name and how long have you been caring for the forests?"
"I am… Quickbeam, or… as your race calls me… Bregalad. I got my name… by interrupting a fellow ent… before he finished… asking me a question. Now the nickname is… no longer fitting… as I have slowed down… in my older age." He remarked, smiling down at her with kindness and humor glinting in his eyes. For some reason, this reassured Duckie and she felt her body start to finally relax in the ent's presence.
"I have tended… the forests for… thousands of years… young elleth. What is… your name?"
"I am Duckie Hir," she replied.
"Duckie… is an odd name… for an elf." He came his low reply. "I have not… seen an elf… in at least… one thousand years. Tell me, who… is your sire?"
"My father is named Elroy", she started to say, but then remembering the conversation she had overheard a few nights ago, quickly added, "But some know him as Elrohir."
"Ah!" The tree bellowed in understanding. "A son of… Elrond! I have… great respect… for your father… and his twin. Long ago… during Sauron's rule… they cleared my forests… of great evil. They are both brave… and stand up… for what is good… in the world. Both are… admirable elves." He explained languidly. Though his speech was painfully slow, Duckie could not help but grin peacefully, as this creature had known her father for many years and was a friend of his.
"My father is a twin…" She whispered to herself underneath her breath, marveling at the new knowledge she had just obtained. "Wow! I wonder if his brother still lives…"
"What was that…young Duckie?" The tree replied. "Do… speak up. My ears are old… and filled with acorns… from a squirrel. I could not… hear… what you said."
Duckie did not wish to repeat herself though. Instead, another niggling question escaped from her mouth. "You called me an elf, sir. May I ask, what exactly is an elf?"
"An elf?" Bregalad replied, his mossy eyebrows rising high into his foliage. "You do not… know… what you are?" The tree looked confused and perplexed by this new revelation, but answered her question nonetheless.
"The elves are… the eldest children… of Ilúvatar, creator of… all life. They awoke before… the sun and moon… on the shores of… Cuiviénen… and have lived for… countless ages, never aging… never dying. Yours is… a fair race… of great intellect… and skill." He said while raising her up even closer to his face so he could carefully inspect her as he spoke.
His grey eyes looked tired as they bore into her own. He awaited her reply with the patience of a grandfather with his grandchild. Duckie also studied him a bit and then answered, "That is all fine and well, but I do not understand one thing… Where are all of the elves? Most of the world seems to be inhabited by men and I never hear them speaking of elves… or ents, for that matter. I have never even read about them in a history book. Why are they not seen or known to the world of men?"
"After the Third Age… of this world, most elves… chose to sail… to Valinor, a land where… no one dies… and all live… in eternal bliss… together. That is why… I was so astonished… to find you here," he replied, "I did not expect… to see an elf again... on these shores."
He too was a magical creature then, Duckie thought to herself; one who also no longer fit into the place this world had become, much like her and her father. She felt a sense of camaraderie form between the two of them now that he had provided the knowledge she needed. Duckie found herself feeling quite grateful for the knowledge he had so willingly offered her.
"Well, thank you for helping me understand both your heritage and my own. I apologize for my ignorance. I was never taught such things, as I have been raised exclusively in the world of men. They are the only race I know anything about." Duckie said quietly, growing thoughtful as they loudly traversed through the forest in the morning sunlight.
"I am happy… to help you… young elleth. My race was also… ignorant once. It was the elves… who taught us… their fair language… and the ways… of the world. I am glad… I was able… to return the favor… and help you. It is a pleasure… to help one as… kindhearted and lovely… as you. I have seen… how you have tended… the plants by… your cabin. They lean… into you. They sense… the goodness… in your heart."
Duckie was touched that he had barely met her, yet somehow already saw and understood the important relationship she shared with nature. Duckie reached out and touched his face in acknowledgement of his comment. "You love them too, don't you?" Duckie asked with a smile, gently releasing his cheek to pull a strand of dark hair out of her face. "All of the plants?"
"I am tasked with… caring for… the forests, in the same way… you care for… the smaller plants." He answered in a slow drawl. "Anyone who… cares for plants… as you do… is a friend… to me and… all of the… remaining ents. Feel free to… call on me… in times of trouble, for I would see… that you are… well protected, in the same way… you have… protected my own… brethren."
"Thank you," she whispered, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. Her smile grew even larger upon receiving his proclamation. "I would be honored to count you amongst my friends."
The tree smiled back at her sadly and then sighed. "The affection… you show the plants… reminds me of… the entwives." He muttered drearily, the tone of his voice darkening with sadness. Then, much to Duckie's mounting concern, a loud wail escaped from his bumpy, bark-covered lips.
"Bregalad, what is wrong?" Duckie asked immediately. "Are you crying?"
"No… well… yes, but it's just a bit of sap." He replied softly, gently easing her more deeply into one of his branches so he could use the other to roughly wipe at his eyes. "I just miss her… my Celebrethil. She… and all the other… entwives… have been lost… for ages. No one knows… where they… have gone."
The tree stopped moving suddenly to kneel down and sob. Duckie felt a warm tear slide down her cheek as well, as she could empathize with the ent. After all, she had lost her father and he had never been found. This revelation made the weight of the world push down on her and a great sadness once again overwrought her. Hopelessness and despair buried her joy beneath its weighty pressure and Ducky cried right along with him, feeling terribly lost without her father's steadfast presence.
After a few moments, a song started to escape from her lips. At first, it was quiet as a whisper, but then it grew into a full-fledged, heartfelt melody:
"Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long long ago, long long ago.
Sing me the songs I delighted to hear,
Long long ago, long ago.
Now you are come all my grief is removed.
Let me forget that so long you have roved.
Let me believe that you love as you loved,
Long long ago, long ago."
A picture of her father returning home to her bloomed colorfully in Duckie's mind as she sang. She heard Bregalad gasp as the vision came to life before their eyes. In the vision, Elroy ran to her and embraced her, the two of them smiling and laughing with joy at being reunited at last. The melody rang out clear and true from her fair lips, painting one of Duckie's deepest desires into a scene that was both visualized and emotionally felt. A mix of deep sorrow and the hope of perhaps one day seeing him again were intermingled into the heart-wrenching melody.
"Do you remember the path where we met,
Long long ago, long long ago.
Ah, yes you told me you never would forget,
Long long ago, long ago.
Then to all others my smile you preferred,
Love when you spoke; gave a charm to each word,
Still my heart treasures the praises I heard.
Long long ago, long ago."
Her thoughts and memories of Elroy danced around them as she sang. She pictured herself as a little child, dancing with Elroy and then being lulled into a peaceful sleep by his harp's dulcet tones. Her longing for her father and the times they shared together permeated the entire song.
"Though by your kindness my fond hopes were raised,
Long long ago, long long ago.
You by more eloquent lips have been praised,
Long long ago, long ago.
But by long absence your truth has been tried,
Still to your accents I listen with pride,
Blessed as I was when I sat by your side,
Long long ago, long ago."
The memory sequence Duckie was masterfully weaving finally ended with a vision of her father bending down to kiss her forehead with all of the tender sweetness he could muster. As his lithe, graceful body went to stand back up, the vision faded into small particles that floated away in the wind, just like the final note of her song. The silence lingered for several moments afterwards, as both the elleth and the ent held onto the memory of Duckie's vision.
At long last, Bregalad murmured, "You have… the gift… of the Eldar. I had forgotten… how wonderful it was… to see a song… and feel it… all the way down… to my roots."
Indeed, it was a gift that some immortals, or rather elves, possessed. Because Duckie had this gift, her father had forbidden her to sing with any of the mortals, as they would not understand the visions she could weave with her magical voice. Bregalad had seemed like a safe enough being to share the gift with though and Duckie was glad to finally have it acknowledged openly.
"Thank you… for blessing me… with the gift… of your song." He continued, "I shall now… return you to… the tribe of men… where you will… be safe. It will do you… no good… to linger here… in the forest… by yourself. There is… an evil presence… haunting…these woods. It is no longer… safe… as it once was… before."
With that said, Bregalad cradled her gently within his leafy limbs and took large, booming steps through the forest once again. The two traveled in amicable silence, simply enjoying the views the forest had to offer. Sometimes Duckie started to hum a bit, but a full song did not grace her lips again, as the remnants of the last one were still poignantly affecting her emotions.
After an hour, Duckie began to recognize her surroundings and saw that Bregalad had brought her to the edge of the unnamed settlement. She could see the tall boarding house on the outskirts of the town where she had lived with Elroy for the last five years. Her heart skipped a beat upon seeing it, secretly wishing that he would suddenly appear at the back door to welcome her home, as if he had never left.
Duckie shook her head at the thought, as she knew it would not come to pass. She happily accepted the distraction Bregalad provided, which got her out of the negative headspace she was in. The ent suddenly lowered her down to the ground, being careful in order to ensure that she did not fall. Once her feet were planted firmly on the soil and she had her bearings again, Duckie turned to speak with her savior one last time.
"Thank you Bregalad," Duckie said as she craned her neck upward to see his caring face. She paused to gently wipe away her lingering tears onto the navy-blue sleeve of her dress before she continued. "I greatly appreciate all you have done for me. You put yourself in danger on my behalf last night and I will never forget your selflessness. I am also very grateful for your teachings on the history of the elves. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for all of your help."
"You are… very welcome… mellon." He replied slowly, his voice quieted to try and avoid obtaining the attention of the nearby men. "That means… 'friend' in… Sindarin, the language… of the elves." He clarified.
"Mellon." She repeated slowly, savoring how the new language sounded coming from her lips. She bowed her head in acknowledgement of his assistance, wishing to honor the large tree in what few ways she could manage. "I will remember that word. Thank you."
"Do be careful… if you must return… to the forest." He warned her, indicating the trees behind him as he slowly spoke. "Take a friend… along with you… and stay safe. Until we meet again… farewell." He said with a slow flourish of his branch, he bowed to her and then sluggishly made his way back into the tree cover. He disappeared into the thick forest canopy with just a few loud stomps.
Once he had taken his leave, Duckie found herself hurrying into the small settlement, speeding past the general store, saloon, blacksmith, and bank to get onto the other side of the street, which housed the small residential area. Just two doors down from the tiny white church was a familiar wooden home that Duckie had been to several times in the past. She glided her way up the stairs and delicately knocked at the door, hoping the resident she sought was home.
She was not disappointed, as she heard the sound of strong footsteps approaching the door. The wooden door burst open and Duckie immediately found herself pulled into an uncomfortably tight hug.
"Duckie!" Her friend Margaret exclaimed as she held her tightly with her strong arms. "I've been so worried about you, all alone on that farm for over a week! You must come in and tell me everything that has happened!"
When Margaret let go her, Duckie did indeed come in. The house was small, but bright, as there was light shining in through several windows, illuminating the wooden floor planks and the kitchen table. A small vase of white yarrow flowers were sitting in the middle of the table, along with a dishes containing a few leftover corn muffins from breakfast. It was still somewhat early in the morning and the smell of dark coffee was lingering in the house.
Margaret herself seemed to be relieved to see her and Duckie immediately sat down in the chestnut-colored chair her friend pulled out for her and accepted the metal mug of coffee that was thrust into her hand a few minutes later. Margaret dragged her chair over to Duckie's side of the table and stared at her, awaiting her tale. Her deep brown eyes bore into Duckie's hazel ones with absolute interest.
Though slightly disheveled, Margaret looked well enough to Duckie. Her body was shorter and more muscular than Duckie's tall and lithe figure. Margaret's dirty blonde hair was pulled into a braided bun that was a bit messy, but her eyes glowed with life and her face was full of love, which was what had always stood out to Duckie. Her tan, weathered hands reached out for Duckie's own and held them on top of the table, giving them a squeeze for good measure.
"Everything," she repeated quietly, "You must tell me everything. We must lower our voices though, as Winnifred is still sleeping."
Indeed, Duckie turned to where her friend was pointing and saw her little daughter asleep in her cradle, comfortably wrapped in a crocheted yellow blanket. The little girl had a slight sprinkling of white blonde hairs upon her head and a little drool running down her chubby cheek. Duckie smiled brightly, as her baby was absolutely adorable.
"Yes, I will tell you." She replied, meeting Margaret's eyes and immediately explaining what had happened when she reached Lewis' farm on that first fateful night. When she got to the part about the dead body, Margaret could not stop herself from interjecting.
"Oh my goodness, that sounds exactly like what happened to Johnny Haymond's little boy! He was found by the forest with those same markings on his neck! My husband says the sheriff thinks it's a mountain lion that's causing all the trouble, but I heard a rumor that the creature sucked the blood clean out of the child! I've never heard of any large cat that could do something like that. What do you think Duckie?" She asked, clearly perplexed.
"If only she knew what it really was," Duckie thought to herself, before deciding not to share what she knew. Surely her friend would think she was crazy if she was going around and talking about 10-foot spiders, right?
"That doesn't sound right to me either," Duckie responded carefully, "But I have no idea what other kind of creature could do such a thing."
"Me neither. The poor Haymond's have been beyond consolation this week because they have no idea what happened to their son. Everyone's been warned to stay away from the forest. I've been worried about James getting close to it, since he's had to chase after those Thomas brothers twice this week. I hope he doesn't have to go into the woods after them again!" She said, referring to her husband, who was the newest and deputy in the settlement. Though James was young, he had a heart for justice and was doing his best to ensure the safety of the settlement's citizens.
"That's not all the Thomas brothers have done either," Duckie replied, then animatedly launched into the story of how they had destroyed Lewis' farmhouse looking for money and how she hid under the bed unseen the first time. She then started to speak about her second run-in with one of the brothers, when Margaret could not help but interject with fear.
"No!" She whispered in horror when Duckie said she had opened the door, thinking it was Father John. "What did you do?"
"Well, he wanted money, so I tried to give him what I had, but he seemed to think that I was not giving him all that Lewis had. He threatened me with his gun… and worse." She said, a tremor running through her as she remembered how she had felt when he had cornered her up against the table. "I fought him for his gun. I know it sounds crazy, but I didn't really have anything to lose. I thought he was going to do horrible things to me, so I tried to get away…" She said, pausing as she tried to decide how much more of the situation she wanted to share with Margaret.
"Goodness gracious, what happened next?" Margaret whispered, putting her hands on Duckie's shoulders in support. She looked as if she feared the worst. "Were you hurt Duckie? What did he do?"
"I fought him for the gun," she responded slowly, "but I accidentally fired it off and a man from a nearby wagon train came into the house and put a gun to his head."
"Another man?" Margaret hissed in shock, her brown eyes going wide. "A stranger?"
"Yes, a stranger. He knocked him unconscious, tied him on top of his horse, and then sent the horse running into the woods." She finished, looking down as she realized how truly lucky she was to have gotten Henry's help.
Who knows what would have happened if no one had intervened…
Perhaps the worst would have happened after all.
As if sensing what she was thinking, Margaret leaned over in her chair to embrace Duckie once more. She had not realized that she was trembling until she felt Margaret's strong arms wrapping around her, grounding her from her fears.
"You are so fortunate Duckie. Did he say who he was or anything?" Margaret eventually asked as she slowly pulled out of the hug, meeting her eyes once more.
"He… he called himself Henry Deere." She said, stumbling over her words a bit as she regained control of herself. "He said he and his cousins bought the land next to Lewis' farm and are going to build a cattle ranch out there." She said, trying her best to remember everything that he had relayed to her that night.
"He said he used to be a sheriff in another town," she continued as Margaret looked on with intrigue in her dark eyes, "and with the way he handled the situation I found myself in, I believe him. He fought that big cur with bravery and shot him in the foot with his own gun! I've never seen anything like it!"
"Wow," Margaret gushed, "Well, I'm certainly glad he was there for you. Knowing there's someone out there who can help you makes me feel a lot better about your predicament. I know Father John has been desperately trying to get out there and retrieve you, but between the mysterious forest creature, the Thomas brothers' mayhem, and his regular duties, he seems to be overly occupied right now."
"That's what I figured," Duckie replied, secretly relieved that nothing bad had happened to her friend's father. She had no idea how Arthur would take it if his father died while he was away at seminary school. Duckie was glad he would not be put into that situation.
"I can wait—I've been tending Lewis' plants in the meantime and have already started the harvest. Once that is done, the only thing left to do will be to transport the crops to the fort where he used to sell them." She said, then muttered to herself, "I wonder what they will do next year for produce though, as they seem to be counting on Lewis…"
"Hmm… that is a good question," Margaret answered, blowing a lock of her tan hair out of her face with a loud huffing noise. The two then sat in a companionable silence for a while, reminiscing on all that had been said so far. Margaret went to check on young Winnifred after a while and then returned with her metal coffee pot and topped off both of their cups in silence. Her black, lace-up boots clicked loudly on the floor as she returned the pot to the stove and then returned to her seat next to Duckie.
"You know what I heard when I last spoke with Father John?" She brought up in a casual voice. This instantly had Duckie's attention because Margaret's tone of voice indicated she was about to say something Duckie was not going to want to hear.
Slowly, as if to ease the blow, Margaret looked downward and said, "He mentioned that Arthur had heard about your predicament and is coming home without finishing seminary school."
Groaning out loud, Duckie propped her elbows on the table and rested her face in her hands. Father John had set this in motion, as he had surely written to his son about her father's fate. Still, Duckie was still surprised and appalled that Arthur would drop everything he had worked towards to come and console her. She knew it was his dream to walk in his father's footsteps as a man of the cloth and it had been expensive to send him away to school.
At the time, the whole settlement had thought it was for the best, as it was nice to have a young man trained to take over for his father. After all, men did not live long lives, particularly in these parts, so it was always best to be prepared for the inevitable.
Why was he giving it all up on her account?
When she finally looked up, she saw Margaret's knowing face and groaned again. "Don't you even start-"
"Duckie," she interrupted solemnly, effectively silencing Duckie's protests, "You've known how he feels about you for some time now-"
"I do not feel the same way," she blurted awkwardly, "And I certainly think he should be finishing his schooling right now, not galivanting all the way back here just to comfort me."
"He told me once that he hoped to marry you when he returned from seminary school," Margaret murmured sympathetically. "Had his father known his plans, I doubt he would have tried to marry you and Lewis-"
"Did you tell him?!" She started to exclaim, then quieted, as she heard the baby stir a bit.
Margaret at least had the decency to look a bit embarrassed. Her cheeks and neck flushed red as she stuttered out the answer Duckie did not want to hear.
"I… I may have mentioned it…"
Duckie groaned again but said nothing. She shook her head in utter denial of the situation she was now finding herself in. This was the last thing she could have possibly wanted! Just when she was trying to get herself having to marry a mortal, now she was suddenly finding herself in the tangled up in the same messy situation again!
Only this time, the man in question knew her well and loved her. That made it so much worse because if she refused him, she would both effectively break his heart and ruin their friendship. Duckie had always rather liked their friendship and good friendships were hard to come by for her. There were few people in the settlement who wanted to spend time with the awkwardly beautiful girl who towered over most of the men. She also did not wish to destroy the kindness and goodwill that had been shared between the two of them during their schooling.
What was she going to do?
Margaret stood up and started pacing the weathered floor, her black shoes clicking loudly against the wooden planks as she strolled back and forth between the woodburning stove and the table at a lively pace. Her brown dress was flush against her legs as she walked and her face looked agitated at having not received a more positive reaction to her news.
"Now Duckie—please hear me out," she began. Duckie rolled her eyes as she knew Margaret was trying to reason with her. "We both know that you are likely going to need to marry someone now. There are a lot worse matches you could get than Arthur. Need not I remind you of-"
"Catherine, who was married to the horrible man who stank of whiskey. Yes, I need not be reminded of that." Duckie finished for her, standing up abruptly as she thought of the bruises she had seen on poor Catherine's face repeatedly. The people of the settlement often did not speak of such things, but everyone knew that some of the arranged marriages had resulted in poor situations, such as that of Catherine. There was no man or woman who dared stand up to it either, for fear of having a gun pulled on them for digging into someone else's business.
While Duckie was certain that would not be her fate if she married Arthur, she still did not want to marry a mortal, especially not one she did not love. Arthur was a good, kindly man, the sort who would help anyone who asked it of him, but he simply was not her…
"Destiny," she whispered to herself, then wondered at the prevalence of that particular word in her life recently. If not Lewis or Arthur, what was her destiny? What should she do now that her father was gone?
A strong hand clamped down on her shoulder. Duckie looked over and saw Margaret's concerned brown eyes looking up at her. "I'm sorry Duckie—it was not my intention to upset you. I just thought it might be better if it wasn't a surprise when he showed up and asked for your hand." She explained gently.
"No, you were right to tell me," Duckie replied quickly, albeit sullenly. "I would rather it not be a surprise. It is not what I had pictured though. I was thinking perhaps I could be a school teacher for a few years while I figured out what I really wanted from my life. I'm not sure that I'm ready to be a wife yet." She clarified, half thinking out loud to herself.
"It's not so bad," Margaret argued, perhaps thinking Duckie should reconsider the potential offer from Arthur. "It takes a little getting used to, but the benefits often outweigh the struggles." She said with a smile as she headed over to Winnifred's cradle. The baby was starting to fuss a bit as she woke and Margaret grabbed her up and started to rock her with a look of motherly love resting upon her face.
Duckie smiled at her sadly, a bit envious of the joy Margaret had found with her husband. Elroy had made it clear to Duckie that it would be unlikely for her to find an acceptable mate unless the person was immortal like them, so it had always seemed unlikely that she would find happiness with a mate. After all, she had never met any other immortals before…
Well, until now anyways.
"I appreciate your help." Duckie said kindly, smiling as she walked over to Margaret and gently caressed the baby's head the young mother rocked her. "You're a good friend."
The two entertained young Winnifred for a while and then Duckie was served a home-cooked lunch by Margaret before she decided to head home for the day. Upon being escorted to the door, Margaret said, "Duckie, if I see Father John, I will let him know about your desire to teach. Perhaps something can be arranged in place of marriage."
"Thank you," Duckie replied, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. She appreciated her young friend's support of her personal wishes, even if it seemed like a rather unlikely venture she was proposing. "It means a lot to me that you're going out of your way for me like this."
"It's no trouble Duckie," she answered with a big smile, "That's what friends are for, right?"
"Of course." Duckie said, smiling in return before stepping out the door. Margaret tromped onto the steps with her.
"You'll promise to stay away from the forest, won't you? I couldn't stand it if something were to happen to you." Margaret said quite adamantly.
"I will if you will," Duckie replied as she stepped down the stairs slowly, not in any hurry to leave her close friend. "You be careful too and take good care of darling little Winnie! I'll try to stop by again sometime soon!"
"Anytime dear, my door is always open!" She called back, waving at Duckie as she started to walk down the dirt road that led back towards the shops. Humming to herself peacefully, Duckie started to stroll through the settlement in a leisurely manner, knowing full and well that it would take her hours to walk back to the farm without riding on horseback. Thus, she took her time, happy to be back in the familiar streets of the place she had lived for the last five years.
Arthur seemed to be flitting in and out of her mind repeatedly, as she saw several places that reminded her of him—the steps of the church, where he and Margaret had regularly sat with Duckie both before and after school, talking and laughing together at the small things in life. There was also the deck on the front of the General Store, where Duckie had stood for nearly an hour last spring, hoping someone would invite her to dance at the Spring Festival. She had been wearing her best green dress for the first time and Arthur had been the only one who had dared to ask her to dance. The two of them had danced for nearly two hours together, laughing and playing around gleefully as if…
Well, as if they cared for one another.
Duckie's eyebrows furrowed in consternation as she thought about all of the little signs she had ignored during the last couple of years. Margaret was right—he surely was in love with her, as he treated her much differently than all of the other men in the settlement…
How was she going to handle this problem? What could she possibly say to him when he proposed that would not ruin everything between them?
Perhaps it was these thoughts plummeting through her mind that caused Duckie to miss the loud shouting that was resonating in the street nearby. She did not know she was in danger until it was too late to avoid it. Right before she stepped in front of the saloon, a man was pushed out of the shuttered doors. They slammed loudly against the building and the man landed on the ground right in front of her feet, bleeding and moaning in agony.
Duckie's hazel eyes widened with fear. It was the sheriff!
She screamed in surprise and quickly backed away as a second man pushed his way slowly through the white shuttered doors with a pistol in his hand. With a gasp, Duckie quickly ran and hid behind a nearby wagon when she saw who it was, but it was too late. The familiar eyes of the man who had nearly taken advantage of her in the farmhouse had caught sight of her.
With a drunk-sounding laugh, he pointed at her with his empty hand, shaping it like a gun and pretending to shoot her, much to his own amusement.
He laughed for a moment and then said with a crazed look in his eyes, "You're next."
And with that said, he cocked the loaded gun, aimed it for the sheriff's head, and reached for the trigger.
ooOoo
*Celebrethil—Original character, Bregalad's/Quickbeam's wife. Her name means "Silver Beech Tree."
How's that for a fun cliffie? I'm sorry it took so long to update again—life has been crazy for me during the last month, but things might calm down in about two weeks or so (at least, that's what I'm hoping for). After that, I might be be able to have a scheduled update time for the summer. For now though, I hope you enjoyed the latest installment. I'll try to update soon!
-P.G.