Chapter Five
An Evening Meal
Quildë Minë had just finished setting the table when she heard a soft knock on the door. Bashar motioned for her to get it. She opened the door, it was Felipe.
As the door opened, Felipe thought he had strayed into a dream. Before him stood a beautiful young woman. She long golden heir was tucked behind her neat elf ears and flowed down to the small of her back. She was dressed in an elegant white gown and a silver jewel hung around her neck. The elf's green eyes looked at him softly, almost afraid. He looked into those eyes as something stirred inside of him. He felt his heart reach out to her. That was when he recognized those eyes. He knew those eyes. They belonged to one he had known for only a short while, but had grown close to his heart. Felipe blinked twice and suddenly the woman became a girl, but still an elf. He starred at her for several long moments with his mouth open.
"Well come in already," Bashar snapped, "The night is growing cold.
Realizing what he was doing, he blushed. Quickly he stepped into the cottage and shut the door. Now in the lights, Quildë Minë could see him better. He wore light tan pants with dark brown boots. They were freshly polished and shone in the light. A dark brown robe that ended at his knees almost covered the white shirt he had on. His still slightly damp hair hung loosely just above his shoulders.
"You look beautiful tonight," Felipe finally muttered.
"Thank you," Quildë Minë blushed.
"As do you, Bashar," Felipe said as he slowly recovered. The old woman wore a pale blue dress that ended at her ankles. Her gray hair was wrapped tightly in a bun at the back of her head.
She carefully bent over the stove. She was about pick up a large clay pot when Felipe jumped in,
"Let me get that," Felipe offered. He quickly grabbed a rag off the table and picked up the pot. Gently, he set in on the table under the cloth, which would protect the wood. Steam rose out of the pot as Bashar set down another bowl containing a green vegetable.
Finally the table was set with all the food. Bashar sat at the head of the table. Felipe helped Quildë Minë into her seat next to Bashar before sitting down himself. His seat was directly across from the old healer.
Throughout the meal they made very little talk. It was mostly small conversations that ended quickly. They cleared the table when their stomachs were satisfied. When the kitchen was put back in order they ventured into the sitting room. A long silence had passed when Felipe spook up,
"I didn't know you were an elf."
"Neither did I," Bashar said quickly. She knew the girl still felt odd about realizing she was an elf. It still pained her that her memory hadn't returned, "it was a very odd discovery."
"That would explain her healing power," Felipe said softly as he glanced over at the silent child.
"Yes it would," Bashar replied, "but what still troubles me is what happened that made her lose her memory. Aren't elves supposed to be immune to thing like that?"
"We are far from perfect," Quildë Minë spoke up, "We are susceptible to all the same things you are. We can be poisoned, and even killed. The only major difference between elves and humans, excluding their sight, hearing, memory and grace, is that we do not get sick and we cannot die of old age. A sad thing though, we can also die from heartbreak, something you humans know nothing about."
There was a dead silence. The only sound was the cool, night breeze blowing through the window. Quildë Minë took the opportunity to study Felipe. 'What an odd name for a Rohiddim,' she thought. He had straight, jet black hair, which wasn't odd, but wasn't common either. It was cut very raggedly, almost as if it was cut in haste. He had a shorter nose and firm chin. It almost made him look stubborn, yet handsome. His dark eyes looked as if they held some sort of secret that was trying to get out. His ears, which seemed rather strange looking, were slightly discolored at the tops. As her gaze fell back to his eyes, she noticed that he was studying her in the same manner. Their eyes locked for a brief moment. Both were full of mystery, confusion and longing. Longing for the unknown, to solve the mystery and to answer all the questions. A question rose to Quildë Minë,
How old are you, Felipe?"
Startled, Felipe blinked twice and then seemed to ponder the question for a moment. "Three thousand six hundred and forty-two," he said quite seriously.
That was when Bashar broke into laughter. "Don't tease the poor girl like that. Didn't you say that you were thirty-five?"
Felipe gave a silent nod.
Quildë Minë thought he looked much younger than that. "Why are you not married? Aren't most men married by the time they turn 30?"
"I haven't found anyone that I would desire to marry," he replied simply, but Quildë Minë could see in his eyes that it wasn't the only reason.
"But he's had his fair share of on-lookers," Bashar added, grinning, "I remember not to long ago a certain young lady who trailed you for sometime."
Quildë Minë raised an eyebrow at this and Felipe shook his head and blushed slightly.
"She meant nothing to me. If she had not followed me for so long and made herself so obvious, I would no have noticed her," glancing at Quildë Minë he quickly added, "Nothing happened."
Glancing out the window, Bashar sighed and stood. "I should be off to bed. It's going to be a long day tomorrow and I fear there is something coming," nodding to the two still sitting, "You can stay as long as you want and Quildë Minë could you make sure that all the lamps are out when you do leave?"
Quildë Minë nodded as Bashar shuffled out of the room and down the hall to her bedroom.
"Has any of you memory return?" Felipe questioned when he heard the soft click of the door latching.
"No," Quildë Minë replied quietly, "Well there's this," she added as her hand rose to touch the jewel hanging from her neck. "I had a 'vision' which was more like a flashback. I saw my mother giving it to me. She said that it was a family heirloom and I must take special care of it."
"You saw your mother?" Felipe asked, "What did she look like?"
"Oh she was beautiful. An elf of course, with long flowing hair. It was dark, not like mine. Her eyes were a soft brown and her smile was dashing. Her voice is beautiful; it used to sing me to sleep when I had nightmares." Quildë Minë's eyes were beginning to mist, "I miss her so much," she gasped as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"Shhh," Felipe said trying to give her comfort. He slid closer to her and took her hand, "We'll sort everything out. You'll be able to find them soon."
"But what if I don't?" she sobbed, "What is something awful happened to them and I never see them again?"
Felipe didn't have any words for that. He just sat there, holding her hand, and let her work through the tears. Finally, they stopped and Quildë Minë rose gracefully.
"We should get going, it is late."
"Yes we probably should. Let me escort you back to the stable, or are you staying here tonight?"
"No, I am returning to the stable, but let me change my clothes first," she replied as she walked down the hall. Silently she slipped into the bedroom that she had prepared herself in. Gently sliding out of the gown, she laid it, folded, on the bed. Nest she put on her previous clothes, which were now clean. Lastly she tucked the jewel under her shirt.
Walking silently back down the hall she blew out all the lamps. Taking Felipe's arm, they headed out the door. The moon was almost full and the stars shone brightly. They walked in silence back to the stable. He left her there and turned to head home. Pausing for a brief moment he whispered just loud enough for her to hear, "Thank you for tonight," and then disappeared into the shadows.