10 years later
I pulled back the swing my nephew was sitting on and gave him a swing. "Whoo!"
With his hair flying, he whizzed back and forth, back and forth. I laughed, stepped aside and looked around. It was a mild summer evening, the birch trees swaying in the wind and the sun sending its last rays over the treetops. We had gone to the playground one more time because the weather was supposed to change again in the next few days and Ben loved being outside so much.
I sat down on a bench and rubbed my left hand. It had never quite healed again. It had been numb ever since Thranduil had put me out of action back then, and no doctor had been able to change that.
I sighed. Last November I had returned to Hamburg once again. The first time since my encounter with the elf. My sister, Ben and I had spent a nice vacation in the Hanseatic city, but when we had left again, I had been glad. Too many memories hung there like shadows between the buildings. The places still had me in their grip too much. Yes, it had been a long time. But the images, they remained.
After Legolas had disappeared, I had stayed behind alone with Sattler. Silently we had removed the traces of the fight and had then staggered just as quietly back upstairs. Once there, he had nodded to me one last time and left.
I shook my head. Why he had done that, I wondered to this day.
A small hand slid into mine. "Ina, that man over there is looking at you all the time."
I ruffled my nephew's hair and asked, "Which one do you mean?" Because all around us, many other children were romping through the sand with their parents.
He held out his arm. "That one."
With a furrowed brow, I looked in the direction Ben was pointing and froze, both inside and out.
This simply couldn't be true.
"Who's that?" His voice sounded curious and he looked at me intently. Because the way I had reacted, it had to be obvious even to my five-year-old nephew that something was wrong.
I cleared my throat. "This... is an old acquaintance."
Protectively, I put my arm around Ben and stood up. Still, I couldn't take my eyes off the man who was casually leaning against one of the birch trees, playing with his lighter. Not a wrinkle had crept into his face. He looked the same as he did then - when he had been shot.
"What's his name?"
I got down on my knees in front of Ben and lifted him up. "We've got to go now, big boy."
Reluctantly, he turned his head away. "What's his name, Ina?"
I rolled my eyes. He always had to have his way. I wonder where he got that from. "Morag, his name is Morag."
My nephew chuckled. "What a funny name."
"Yeah," I muttered softly, walking toward the exit of the playground. Just before we turned the corner, though, I looked around.
Morag was still standing there leaning against the birch tree. Our eyes crossed and I shook my head once. I had no idea why he had come here. But I knew that he had never meant anything good for me. And I would not let him get close to my family.
His mouth curled into a mocking smile as he indicated a bow. Then he turned and left.
I stood still for a moment, staring into the shadows where he had disappeared, until Ben grew restless on my arm.
"Are we going home now, Ina?"
I took one deep breath and finally turned away. "Yes, we are."
