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...
Cramped was an understatement. This giant lonely home of yours was jam packed with it seems every news clipping from the first age along with crumpled, stained and obscure relic and wine bottle filled mansion you were now the owner of just about spurred on your tears again.
.
For your entire life it seemed you couldn't do wrong right, and now you knew why. Unwanted you were sent off to boarding school alone without any sight of the family you were supposedly supposed to be loved by.
Alone you left boarding school in the power fearing Lothlorien to move to Erebor. Just distant enough to feel safe to breath easy at knowing the hidden abilities you bore. For centuries the great lines of Kings with abilities to rival those of the Valar were now hunted down and shipped back to Valinor if showing signs of any unnatural abilites, all due to the war the great line of Finwe had begun against Melkor and his. Quietly you took your love of science and math to the community college there, without much cash to afford a full university you claimed a spot on the fire crew in their first recruiting in decades when their senior officers had been set to retire. Stunningly you had found your niche and even more so a group of friends that truly cared about you.
Though honestly what Dwarf wouldn't respect a young woman having to force their own way in the world that has traveled so far to find their own place to call home. Between the few days a week there you would fill in as a supervisor at a science exhibit in a museum for children to give them a hands on peek into the various science fields. Their timid stance around you only stood until you had been explained to that the line of Durins bore abilities of their own, shifting of Metal and Earth to their will. Something they knew might bother you with the Elven ban, but thankfully only making you settle into their group more to their great pleasure. For nearly a year you were settled nicely into your rv in the rv camp on the edge of town on the way to the mines in a comfortable living.
Comfortable and quiet, at least until a fire on the outskirts of the mines, the men cleared the path for the flames with deep ditches, then sending the dirt over the flames as they watched you turn away from the flames dropping your heavy air tank and outer jacket to sprint to a nearby digger. In a leap you were in the air and gripping the lower protruding teeth of a Nazgul that had dove for the youngest of the Durin Princes, Dwalin, Frerin and Thorin. The trio along with their Cousins watched open mouthed as you swung the beast twenty times your size at least before slamming it into the ground again. The grip on its jaw and force of the blow managed to jolt its jaw open enough for you to force it in half killing the beast as Balin and Gloin took out the rider on its back.
In a surprisingly sheepish glance at the guys you found them just a few feet away from you with furrowed brows and crossed arms before Frerin asked, "Why did you not tell us?"
"I, um..It was really close..."
Dwalin, "No, bout your abilities."
"Um..."
Bofur, "You just slammed a Nazgul into the ground and snapped its jaw, all on your own!"
Thorin eyed your stunned expression asking, "Have you fought Nazgul before?"
You shook your head, "First one I've seen up close."
Dwalin nodded at his loss for words as Frerin said, "First time seeing one, and you grab it by the face."
Balin let out a chuckle, "You've certainly befriended the perfect family for that reasoning, Lass." Making you smile through a weak laugh.
Thorin nodded, "We're going to have to get you a mask though, just in case something happens in town."
Bofur, "What else can you do?"
You smirked and stepped through them looking at the fire taking in a deep breath before you leapt from the ground and flew over the flames now coated in full white flmes resembling a white pheonix. Making their lips part as you circled it, absorbing the flames then sent out a ripple of light resprouting the foliage that was in the massive stretch of land that had been burned before hovering and gently landing in your former spot. A clear laugh came from Dwalin, who promptly tugged you into a tight hug soon joined by the whole clan as Bofur said, "Simply masterful! Did you know you resemble a phoenix in flight?"
You giggled softly, "No, never shown anyone before."
Thorin nodded and let out a chuckle pointing at the drone circling over head, "Well, Gramps will be thrilled to know we've got a firefighter of your caliber on our crew." Your lips parted and he patted your shoulder to comfort you, "No worries, your name is safe with us."
Balin nodded, "Aye, tapes should be edited and if anything played simply to reveal we've another protector in our midst." Your eyes met his, "Not since the days of Durin have we had one. We'll naught be wasting the honor, or your safety."
.
With the edited footage playing through Erebor images of white phoenixes were soon spread through the Kingdom just on the eve of Elven Lords stopping in for an annual visit. A visit they grimaced and groaned at each mention of the new found protector they honored publicly and flaunted the claim they had over them. A smirk eased onto the face of the Dwarf King as his elbow nudged that of the Elf King's, who had been staring intently at you alongside the Durin Princes wondering just who you were. "We simply adore our fabled Pheonix! You must have a stunning collection of your own protectors." Silence spread around the table until Thror let out a deep laugh at their eyes landing on him flatly, "That's right," his hand reached out to claim the goblet waiting there. "You've banished all of yours." His cheeks rose in his smirk, "Few fires here and there, but after all, that's what our firefighters are for." His eyes subtly flicked your way with a hidden wink as you rolled your eyes and turned your head to Thorin and his mumbled joke making you giggle to yourself.
With a steady exhale the Elf King's eyes flinched back to you, ignoring the continued proud gushing of the King beside him never ceasing to allow him to learn who the Elleth was among his kin. One that he never learned the name of but caught glimpses of in the distance sharing card tricks with his young Son in the midst of twenty guards as the Lords took a tour of the palace grounds. His protection of the boy not out of the question as his late Wife was taken and killed by Melkor and Sauron just a few years prior as their Southern Palace had been attacked by a massive legion of orcs the Elven forces had only just freed from ownership of the lands with the aid of those from Lothlorien.
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Upon your graduation of community college the reason for your exile had been named, your real parents had died leaving just an obscure grandfather. Painfully you had found his name out when you were summoned to the reading of his living will nearly bringing half the Durin line wishing to escort you in case of it being a trap to crate you up and ship you off to the West. Alone you sat through his lawyer's meeting, hearing the details of his life from the Elf that knew him, while the others in town were all so eager to announce their hatred of him. One of the last alive in Middle Earth from the line of Finwe, past you anyways.
All they had seen was you pulling your rv into the miles long driveway, curious of the young visitor of the old stubborn Elf. Quietly you walked through the walkway from the driveway to the front door remembering that this lavish home was now yours at your supposed great warrior of a grandfather, Maglor Feanoreon. Not known for any abilities but mainly for the reputation his blades having cut through a seemingly endless number of forces ruthlessly after having to endure the weight of living under the damage his Father's powers had inflicted upon the world by incurring the wrath of Melkor and his line. Without reason to any, all you knew was his having simply taken off and disposed all of his property and funds, leaving them to you, his only heir, before vanishing into the wind. For all you knew they could have been right in hating him, how would you know, he was just a name on a page to you. But still he'd left you this mansion in a large stretch of green away from the eye of prying neighbors, and you were at least grateful for his showing more care in that than any other in your life so far.
A smile grew on your face in anticipation only to drop as the door opened. A sharp breath left you as you eyed the massive piles of junk filling the house around a clear path into each room, "Of course..." Each step you took only worsened the throb in your temples until you walked upstairs finding only a dust coated empty set of rooms with just a stack of three boxes in the largest under a folded note with your name on it. Nearing it you raised the note and tearfully read through his note stating that inside were dated journals from his and your parent's lives explaining just why it was safer for you to be raised in secret than by them.
Unwilling to start on the books you found a broom, bucket and mop cleaning the top floor first then brought your few boxed and bagged belongings to set around your cot from the rv. Next you moved to the kitchen, finding the large stack of boxes of trash bags irritating you farther at his planning for this. With flicks of your fingers you started to gather up what trash you could find, clearing the counters and a few feet around the stove and sink by lunch, a meal you ate seated on your counter finishing off the last of your sandwich from the night before. Smacking your lips you sighed hopping onto your feet again to finish scrubbing that room clean. Through the filling of one bag you went out to the garage. Finding a stack of old crates, crates that you made float behind you inside and filled with the empty wine bottles, only to pause noticing the few coins and game pieces left in each you drained into a set of buckets nearby before sending them out there again.
.
Twelve crates were filled from the kitchen alone before you smiled at the empty yet still mostly filthy kitchen. Next you moved onto the front hall, clearing and emptying the wine bottles and trash and taking the filled bags and crates into the garage where you eyed the children's wading pool you pulled into the back yard cobbled courtyard threatening to be taken over by the widely ignored yard and garden there around the empty and fountain. You stared at it blankly a shake of your head at the additional work you still had to do, then returned to clearing the front room.
Working around the stacks of newspapers you eyed each of the stained wads of clothing, towels and sheets you filled a set of bags with and sent out to the enclosed back porch. By nightfall you'd handled the wine and scattered trash at least in the front rooms, a final bag of clothes was left on the back porch before you went back upstairs after eating the last of your food from your rv, leaving shopping for the morning.
In a painful slump you laid out on your sleeping bag and reached for your phone. The bright screen lit up a circle around you in the darkening room. Easily you found your one guilty pleasure. As children you were always compared to the best of the best, and in your seemingly honorless obscure line you were believed to have stemmed from you never were granted a pardon from being compared to the, then, young Elf Prince. Now King and Widower with a grown Son of his own you had no reason to continue this habit and yet you did. In your childhood you were told to write your letters to those you held grievances against or who had angered you and then to burn them. However, paper is expensive and it is often frowned upon to light fires in anger.
A compromise was made, with your first computer you had worked years to earn for you had your own email and had easily found the Prince's public account to converse with his public. Thousands of drafts were made and overcrowded your account. Each more outrageous than the last with very little to be linked to the now King and his overly agreeable policies past the overly touched upon pompous persona other cultures cast him in, when it truly was quite the opposite, at least by what you could tell of the royal stranger.
Lines were typed out and as the wine from the somehow still full cellar had kicked in and your focus had blurred from the King onto your grandfather. Hastily you had typed out, "All these years I've wished you were dead, how dare you ignore me all these years-..."
Before the sentence had been completed you added it to the drafts folder and laid out resting your head on the ground to drift off to sleep. Morning came soon enough and you were off to the store where you only heard more comments about the missing stop from Maglor the past couple days. With a forced smile you filled the conveyor belt and waited for the purchases to be rung up by the tall brunette behind the counter eyeing you curiously. With a smirk he said, "Haven't seen you around before. New in town?"
You nodded, "Just moved in."
His smirk grew as he glanced at his friend in the register behind him listening to the blonde woman boasting to her friend about what she would do if Maglor 'dared' to show his face in her scrap book shop again. "Really? Didn't know there were any openings past Miss Mable's, and you don't look like an orphan."
You nodded claiming the last of your bags to put in your cart after paying, "Moved into my Grandfather's home."
A curious raise of his brow came with his smirk turning to a grin as the trio behind him looked at you, "Who's your Grandfather?"
"Maglor Feanorean." You gave them a large grin then turned and walked to the doors hearing their stunned chatter as you pulled your heavy cart behind you dropping your expression along the way. Easily the bags were added to your rv then left alone as you pushed your cart to the pen and walked back again to drive home. With an irritated sigh you carried the last of the bag in and unloaded them before turning to your unfinished work again.
Two days you sorted through everything, leaving the wooden boxes and chest with sealed away treasures inside in the back room before putting out the first of your trash bins at the foot of your driveway packed with as much as you could fit inside. Lastly you returned inside and began to scrub each room you could until you found a hidden doorway behind a stack of papers where all his furniture was crammed inside. A piece at a time you pulled out the tables chairs and loveseats you placed through the house, cleaning each as you did. The scattered furnishings left you a bit closer to feeling something closer to at home in this large place alone. A tour through however led you to a stop at the paint store, where you purchased the paint for the three rooms with the torn and ruined wallpaper you finished tearing down to paint a fresh coat on the walls in far more pleasing tones.
On your new couch downstairs you celebrated with the last of your wine bottle and fired off another useless message, this time to the women in that line, "Seriously, fuck you, you narcissistic wench."
..
Morning came and your eyes opened as you pocketed your phone, not realizing the now empty drafts folder. Out onto the back porch you went eyeing the stacks of bags drawing another sigh from you. Wetting your lips you glanced at the kiddie pool then the spiral clothes racks side by side in the yard stirring a smirk onto your face at your idea. Back in the kitchen you grabbed the laundry soap you had bought and carried it out to the kiddie pool. With a pair of rubber gloves on you used the hose to fill the pool and add the first of the large sheets to the pool, one by one you scrubbed and rinsed the sheets then wrung them out and hung them up on the clothes lines before starting on the first of the towels that were soon joining them.
On your feet you turned to reach for the first of the bags of clothes, only to stop and toss your gloves aside at the doorbell ringing. Through the open door you eyed the red headed Elf peering down at you with a red headed Elleth at his side. Your lips parted as you spotted the crest of the Royal Guard on their jackets and you asked, "Can I help you?"
The Elleth asked, "Jaqiearae Pear?"
You nodded, "Yes.."
The Red headed Elf said, "Please come with us."
"I-.."
The Elleth added, "Either you come with us willingly or we will take you by force."
You nodded, "Can, can I just turn off my oven first?"
The Elf nodded, "Of course." Then they both followed you inside watching you complete the task before following them outside, locking up along the way before climbing into their car wondering just what reason you were being taken through the Royal Palace Gates. One hopefully not having you need to blast out of the palace and soar straight for Erebor to hide out.
..
Each room of the Palace was more than you could have dreamed of, with portraits and statues around weapons on display from ages past. Swiveling your head as subtly as you could you took in the details of what you could until you were left standing alone in a sitting room with a wall of curtained windows open letting in the light after being searched and stripped of all you had in your pockets. On your left a golf ball went whizzing past your head only to crash into what you could only imagine to be a priceless antique. The piece of pottery crashed heavily to the ground and shattered bringing the small blonde boy out from behind the couch with malfunctioning catapult in hand and mouth agape.
A single glance from him to the door where footsteps raced to the door you caught ice inching out around the feet of the young Prince as his eyes welled with tears. Turning your head your hand waved and it flew back into place fully repaired after the whisp of white flames withered away. In awe the boy's eyes turned to you as your finger raised to your lips, a motion he mirrored before miming locking a key in his lips before darting away with his ball and catapult leading the guards away. Again alone your eyes turned to the wall of windows.
With lips parted you inched just a bit closer to peer into the garden only to freeze as a familiar velvety voice filled the room through a figure passing from an attached study to there.
"For all the peacocks in Middle Earth how has everyone missed the one with a crown?" Your lips parted recognizing the words as your head turned to see the King reading from a tablet in his hands on his path to an arm chair near you. His black slacks, tucked in silver silk shirt with pale green tie that matched the ribbon tied around his wrist that you noticed as he combed his fingers through his brushed back long blonde hair. Barely to his shoulder you eyed him, bowing your head in your struggle not to make a sound through his speaking.
"Twenty seven times, if I hear the word locomotion from your lips again in your speech I will personally see to it every last hair on your head will fall out. There are more imaginative ones." His finger scrolled to the next message, "This one, one of my favorites, twelve pages on the time we supposedly went to get snow cones, apparently I stole the last of the raspberry and blackberry syrups, knowing fully that you had been speaking of them all day." His finger swiped again, "And the latest ones, "Seriously, fuck you, you narcissistic wench. And, All these years I've wished you were dead, how dare you ignore me all these years-..."
Releasing your lower lip from between your teeth your eyes locked on his when he raised them to you and paused taking in your full appearance. Slightly sudsy in a dusty tank top and soap stained jeans over worn boots with long black curls tied back in a loosening bun paired with striking purple eyes, he had missed in previous visits to Erebor, naming your lineage at once for those who remembered. Quickly his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as his brows furrowed curiously as he sat in the largest of the chairs and propped up one leg over the other stating, "Five hundred years, we have checked the time stamps of when they were written. How they've been missed until now we cannot seem to uncover, however, for all the threats and poorly veiled anger aimed at me, I do have to admit, I have no recollection of ever getting snow cones with you, Miss Pear."
"I-, um."
He nodded turning his head to acknowledge the entrance of a servant with tea, his hand motioned to the chair across from him as he took in the details of your figure from the side and in motion as well in your move to lower carefully into the chair before anxiously crossing your ankles in front of the tall chair. His eyes locked with yours in a slightly amused yet intense gaze, "First, five hundred years. I must know how I have managed to incur and maintain such an incredible animosity from you."
"I, well," you hastily wet your lips accepting the tea poured for you with a soft thanks. "Back in school, we were taught to write a letter to people that had angered us," he nodded, "And then burn it." Making his brow rise, "Well, I grew up in boarding schools, so, obviously your, family and you, were the ideal for us to live up to."
"Ah." A hint of a smirk flashed onto his lips.
"I saved up for a computer, and you had your public email account."
"To which you had sent five pleasant emails to through all of this. We have checked that as well. As per the usual enforcements from your boarding schools I presume."
You nodded, "Yes." His eyes shifted to yours and his smirk dropped as tears filled your downcast eyes as your voice wavered for a moment, "See, Your Majesty, my family, who I recently found out, wasn't my family, didn't want me, hence the boarding schools, and were quite glad to be rid of me. Something I never really knew why. But, the first few really were about you, just small things."
"Mainly my wardrobe."
His eyes still lingered on you and your refusal to meet his eyes, "Yes. Well. It started about you, then it always shifted into, anyone and anything really. It really is a terrible excuse. I really am sorry, it must have been the wine, I never meant to send them."
As he focused on your mentally forcing your tears away he asked, "Your final two messages, who were they meant for?"
You wet your lips again, "I got a letter a week back from a lawyer. My Grandfather left, took off leaving me everything. Never met the man, he'd known where I was my whole life, and, he just left me there, alone. I went shopping and, since I moved into his home I've heard nothing but how everyone in town hates him."
"One of them being the narcissistic wench I presume." Making you nod again, "Your tea might help. Take a sip then tell me more about your move from Erebor and what you know of this Grandfather of yours."
It didn't take long and he seemed to be more irritated with how little you had been told of Maglor by his supposed friend. With only your sharing his cluttered home you were gifted taking you from your rv into an actual stationary dwelling. The rv alone stirred a broken round of questioning as to why you had been among the Royal Durins, with only an answer of friendship to give, not sating the curiosity of the King.
.
With a relieved sigh, after a parting wave from the young Prince you were returned home again to restart the oven and return to scrubbing the clothes. Each item of clothing however seemed to be stunningly in your size, all of which you had ogled shamelessly in envy at your inability to afford it. Now folded and hung in the master closet you eyed it all mumbling, "Why the fuck would he have all this, and why was it all filthy?" Without an answer you went to head downstairs only to pause at the sunset cast wall with an alcove barely an inch deep. Curiously you moved closer and eyed the barely visible crease in the wall you pushed on then stepped back at the click freeing the large Murphy bed making you let out a weak chuckle spotting the next note with your name on it.
Jaqiearae,
This may be irritating, and far from logical. All our lives what we have been given has always been diminished by others. For what I've learned of you from afar, to have given you all this fresh from the package untarnished you would surely have turned it down. I apologize for the back handed methods, and for not knowing what style of shoes you wear to fill the closet with those as well. All I have had is yours and for as little of your trust I deserve please trust me when I say you are not alone anymore. A few more notes are tucked away, you most likely will leave the boxes I left next door for last, when you are ready the truth is there, not just what has been spread about our line. No one will hurt you, of that you can be certain. When you are ready it will all become clear to you.
Your Loving Grandfather,
Maglor
Brushing the tear from your cheek you secured the bed to the ground with the locking hooks at the foot of it sliding into the previously out of place grooves in the floor and you laid back on the perfectly soft bed drawing a content sigh from you. Painfully you tore yourself out of bed to pull your dinner out of the oven. On your feet again you drew your ringing phone from your pocket, glaring at the betraying drafts folder then answered Thorin's call that the other guys grouped around for the over the speaker shared conversation.
For nearly two hours they all chimed in on your encounter with the King after you had shared about the seeming test you had inherited in the from of a mansion that the guys all were overly eager to come out to soon. Though the news of your continued habit brought about laughs and 'I told you so' from more than a couple of them that had told you not to continue the habit. Ending the call came with their being called away after ensuring you would still be at work the following day, to which you agreed.
Aimlessly your finger trailed around the rim of your now empty wine bottle, breaking from your thought you stood and walked to the garage to add it to the others. A broken bulb later you groaned on your knees through the scattering of the coins and game pieces. You wet your lips and climbed to your feet lighting up brightening the room only to stare at the coins sliding through a formerly ignored groove in the floor. A wave of your fingers later you had filled the buckets again and moved to the groove planting your hands on the stones around it noting a light shining through to scan your eyes after a snap sounded at your hand hitting the formerly shielded panel. The floor under your hands sunk and shifted revealing a staircase you eyed curiously along with the soft blue light coming from below you. In your crouch your foot stretched out in your lowering to descend the stairs.
One at a time you followed a missed game piece that bounced down before you leading the way. At the bottom it slid over to a raised block of deep grey and white marble resembling a map the piece flew onto and morphed to take the form of Thror on his throne. A wave of your fingers brought the rest of the pieces down to take their own places and forms for all the leaders of middle earth, including waves of orcs and goblins passing Elven lands, instantly cut down and shifting into metal pools shifting into birds flying over the board until they were needed again. "Ok...magical map..."
In a turn you drew in a breath and let it out again before your eyes fell to a wall with circular indents covering it, "Can't be..." The bucket of coins floated down next and began to glow and rise on their own making you scoff as they flew into place revealing memories of victories and moments in someone you could only imagine to be Feanor in his heyday before his fall in battle. Soon joined by seven others with swords raised high. Your lips parted as you scanned over each memory all the way down the wall until the corner. That ended in a diagonal couple feet of wall popped making you flinch back as it began to sink in revealing a metal door with a phoenix etched into it that split down the middle to reveal a shimmering dark grey mithril full body suit.
Across the chest were v's stemming from the neck appearing to be like feathers until the forearms and knees resembling gloves and boots in deep glittering purple easily mistaken for black at a distance. The crowning glory was a mask to cover half your face attaching to a circlet with three shimmering stones across the forehead matching those at the base of the neck in a deep v. The top however drew your eye for another reason as the note resting on the head of the dummy bore your name. The final reveal only surpassed by the sinking of other slots for suits filling nearly an entire wall with only the symbols for their alter ego etched into the metal gaining only one response from you, "What, the, fuck..."