Fields of gold

The quendi

Elanor's fingers drummed on the steering wheel, tension thick as they neared the institute. Back straight, she felt the ache that started to overcome both her neck muscles and her brain. The small city welcomed her tiny Vauxhall with open arms, agitation low given the early afternoon. It did not prevent her thoughts from being muddled by the onslaught of networks, radios and electricity wires. But for once, the various interferences weren't the source of her turmoil.

Visits to her mother ranked from catastrophic – depending on her medication – too heartbreaking. Unpredictable, she never knew in what state of despair she would find her mum. And despite the great love she carried for the woman who had given birth to her, and raised her without a father figure, Elanor still suffered from those bouts of madness until they became unmanageable.

Her heart shattered on the day she had to sign those fated paper to have her mother committed, but she had been unable to shoulder the responsibility. Elya's moments of paranoia simply put her at too much risk; she needed care Elanor wasn't equipped to provide for.

How would she fare today ? Ever since Myriam had arranged for her transfer in a smaller institute, away from the greater city and its mind-numbing buzz, Elya seemed to improve.

Red light. Drum, drum, drum.

Better, but sill in outer space, depending on her medication. Her mother complained about the food – too processed –the wireless network – too distracting and the noises – too loud, even at night. She said the grass was dying under her feet whenever they put those horrible chemicals in the ground, yelled at gardeners when they chopped off the bushes, screamed, even, if a tree was harmed. Looked at the sky with tears in her eyes, stating that human had corrupted even the highest, most inaccessible places of the world.

She could have been a very convincing ecologist if her mind had not decided to splinter under stress. And the worst in all this was that Elanor felt the same. How long until she, also, plunged ? Would they end up on the same institute, lamenting together under the watchful eye of nurses ? Would Myriam visit her, the only one who never offered pity ?

When warm fingers landed on her forearm, Elanor's heart missed a beat.

"Mára ná," came a melodic voice by her side. (All is well)

The young woman stilled, called back to reality by the warm, welcoming touch. Then, under that soothing presence, she felt her back muscles relax. Eyes shifting aside, she caught a glimpse of her alien friend. His gaze shimmered with both compassion and anticipation. Why he'd insisted on joining the ride baffled her, but the moment she'd explained the aim of her absence, Laurëfindelë had petitioned to come. Adamant and stubborn was more like it.

After being scooped up for so long, Elanor couldn't find the heart to refuse him. And, incidentally, his presence reassured her. Albeit she was unnerved by the idea of him witnessing her mother's decline; Laurë was too fine a detective not to miss out that this was the state that awaited her in the future as well. His hair flowed easily around him, a halo brightened by the afternoon sun, not yet hidden under the hat she'd gotten for him.

There were little chances of him being recognised by a camera, but she would not take the risk. And, with the Borsalino on, he looked devastatingly handsome. And without... there weren't any works to describe his ethereal beauty; there was no getting used to it. Elanor gazed upon him for an instant, watching sunrays play hide and seek with his sculpted features. His eyes seemed to laugh at her for a moment.

Honk !

Elanor jumped; the light had turned green. With a blush, she passed the first gear and ploughed on to the institute. The parking was half empty; there was no turning back. So the young woman gathered her courage, and, finding strength in her gentle alien, led him to the entrance.