The Forbidden Lands (Wattys 2015 Winner)

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

A/N: Please remember that this is a ROUGH draft. It will not be perfect, and I plan on fixing things later. There may be plot holes, grammatical errors, etc. Sorry. Just enjoy the story :)
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Ferrowin lived beside a creek, with foliage climbing up his mother's cottage. A windmill attached to the house spun in the water. It looked to have about four rooms, and the roof was a bright, cheery red.

But after talking to the elf orphan, it just looked like blood. I couldn't believe that young elf was just on his own. Perhaps I could change that while I was here.

Ferrowin's mother greeted me at the door. She was slender and graceful, the way all elves seemed to be, and two bright green eyes looked out from a maternal, freckled face. She smiled. "You must be the human," she said. "Ferrowin sent word that you would be joining me today." She nodded hello to Merron. "Come with me."

I waved farewell to Merron and followed her inside.

"My name is Laurel," she said. "What's yours?"

I appreciated how she asked. "Evelin Fendway."

She directed me to a room. "You may stay here, Evelinendway." She combined my first and last names. I assumed elves didn't use surnames.

"You may call me Evelin," I clarified.

"Very well," she said. "I'll prepare supper. You can just wait out in this room. Feel free to use anything within it." She shut the door.

I turned around. The room was made from smooth, dark wood. It was simple, with the only piece of furniture being a wardrobe. A green mat with a pillow was what I assumed was the bed.

I opened up the wardrobe to find clean dresses. The one I was wearing from the merrow was, sadly, beyond repair. I wondered if Laurel would mind if I took one. I decided to wait and ask.

I laid on my stomach on the green mat, with my feet in the air. I opened up my sketch book and flipped to a blank page, and began to doodle the orphan elf I'd seen earlier. It was fun to draw the pointed ears. You had to angle them just right. I took out my watercolors and began to color the picture of Ferrowin.

I heard when he came home. The door open and shut, and he was whistling a tune. The walls of the abode were thin. I eavesdropped on the conversation.

It was on accident.

More or less.

"Hello, Mother," Ferrowin said.

The love in Laurel's voice was unmistakable. "Good evening, my son."

"Did Evelin the human come?" he asked.

"Yes, she's in the west room."

"Good."

"Did you help the historian today?"

"Yes, and he seemed grateful for my work. I wish I could be the next historian."

"But something bigger is happening, isn't it?" his mother said.

"With the arrival of the girl, it is undeniable."

"I'm so proud of you, Ferrow," Laurel said. I could hear that the tears in her eyes were there. "You giving up what you want for the greater good."

"Thank you, Mother," he said. I heard his footsteps to his room.

I wondered what Ferrowin's duty could be. But another question tore at my heart. Why didn't my mother show that much affection for me? What did I do wrong?