13. Chapter 13
‘What is wrong?’ I ask her; concerned something may be seriously amiss.
‘Gotta go home’.
‘Is that so awful?’
‘Yeah, my brother’s there’, she says, now looking quite put out.
‘You dislike your brother?’ I ask her.
‘They don’t get on’, said Bronwyn from behind me. ‘They fight like a cat and a dog, and then Anita gets mad, and then’
‘Everything goes to hell in a hand basket’, finished Nicky.
Bronwyn shakes her head. ‘Behave yourself this time, or I WILL interfere, and you know I’ll hit you harder then your mum.’
‘Brothers!’ says Nicky, ‘Who’d have them.’ She smiles at me, ‘Do you have any brothers?’ she asks me.
‘Six’ I reply to her.
‘Six! Poor thing! How did you survive six brothers?’ she says in amazement. ‘I can’t cope with one!
‘It was not easy sometimes, my mother used to say we were driving her crazy, but once we all became adults we usually got on together quite well. Perhaps in a few years you too will find your brother is a nicer person than he is now.’
‘Miracles can happen, I guess’, said Nicky.
‘Nicky, behave, and I’ll take you with me tomorrow night when I go out to watch the whales and record them.’ Bronwyn says.
‘Really!’ Nicky squeals with excitement. ‘Ok, I guess I can put up with Andrew for one night’.
‘Six o’clock at the boat ramp, and don’t bring Andrew, after last time I don’t want him anywhere near the boat’, said Bronwyn.
‘See you both tomorrow’, Nicky says, now looking happy, as she picks up her bag, and heads home.
‘Is Nicky’s brother really so dreadful a person?’ I ask Bronwyn.
‘Sure is. Fourteen, a big chip on his shoulder, arrogant, rude, and plain nasty. Takes after their father, who is a total jerk.’ Bronwyn says.
‘He does sound unpleasant’.
‘Unpleasant is a bit of an understatement.’ Bronwyn is trying to pick a ripe apple off the tree, and it is too high for her. Finally, after watching her futile attempts for a few minutes, I help her by pulling the branch a bit lower.
‘Just because you’re so tall, there’s no need to show off’, she says, with a small smile.
I decide to ignore that, as I have to ask her something, ‘Bronwyn, what did you mean about watching whales and recording them?’
‘As well as being an Archaeologist, I have been involved in helping the Marine Institute in their research programme for 4 years. I’m always home at this time of year, and so I go out a couple of times, mostly at night on a full moon, and record the whale’s songs, and document their activities, how many of them are here, and so on. I get paid well for it too, and it’s heaps of fun, because we get very close to the whales, and sometimes swim with them. Get paid well, too. She gives me a speculative look, ‘Do you want to come along too?’
‘Could I?’ I ask excited at the thought of getting close to whales, maybe I could touch one!
‘Sure, be happy to take you along’ says Bronwyn.
We have been walking as we talk, and now go into the house, ‘Tonight I’ll be going down to beach, and taking whale sightings from there, probably most of the night. So do you want to camp out on the beach tonight, and look at the whales?’ she asks.
‘Yes, that would be lovely! What do we have to do?’ I ask her, thinking that a night on the beach under the stars would be a perfect place to ask Bronwyn some questions I have wanted answers to.
‘Count the whales, and record anything we might see them do. So, by the time we get some stuff together, it’ll nearly be time to head over there, so we can be settled before dark. It’ll be a nice time for us have a talk too’, she says quietly.
‘A talk, what about?’ I ask her, wondering what she wants to talk about.
‘A certain scroll that was found in Egypt; I know you know what it is, and I do think if it is as important as your interest in it indicates, that seeing as I found the thing, I might have a right to know what it is’. She says.
‘It is not that simple, Bronwyn, that scroll should not have been here to be found, and it is something I should not tell a mortal about. It concerns the fate of my people, and I shudder to think what could happen if it were to fall into the wrong hands.’ I answer her; actually, I do want to talk to her of it, but in my own way.
‘Maglor, you trusted me when told me who you are, and I have not betrayed that trust, and I would not. I need to know what that damn scroll is, so I can stop the ‘wrong people’ from getting it, and because I have a funny feeling there might be more where that came from’, she says.
‘More! Why should there be more!’ I exclaim, thinking that is worse than I thought.
‘The hieroglyphs that I used to find that scroll, spoke of at least one other, probably in the tombs around the Great Pyramid. I’ll be going back soon, and I would like to know what I’m dealing with, I’ve had some threats over this one, and I have a feeling it’s going to get dangerous.’
‘When are you going back to Egypt?’ I ask her.
‘Four or five weeks. I’ll be going first to Scotland, then India, and on to Egypt to supervise the next stage of the search for more scrolls.’ she says.
‘I see’, I turn to her, and place my hands on her shoulders, and look deeply into her eyes, ‘I must go with you, Bronwyn, if there are more of these scrolls, I need to know, for it could be disaster for the Elves if I do not discover all I can’.
‘Ok, but you’ve got to give me the full story. I have already figured that the map on that scroll shows a way to some kind of hidden Elf civilisation, and I reckon I’m going to need to know all you can tell me if we are to make any sense of this’, she replies to me.
‘You will help me?’ I ask hoping I am right, for I cannot deny her assistance will make my task of finding and removing from the mortal world any scrolls much easier.
‘Yes, I don’t really have any choice, not if I want to solve what the scroll is. And anyway,’ she said, giving me her cheeky grin, ‘I like you, and I would help you because I like you, for no other reason. But let’s get over to the beach, and talk there, I know I’ll feel more comfortable there, and I think you will be too’.
I agree with her, we take food, and blankets, and light a fire on the beach and settle down for the night, and as we sit eating I wonder how much of my own life I shall have to tell Bronwyn, and decide that I owe her some of the truth about myself, for if she is going to help me, she deserves to know who I truly am.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.