On the 29th December, three days before the start of term, a tall Elf with long golden
hair and deep green eyes arrived at the Prince William Orphanage. He knocked on the
door and it was opened by a beautiful, slender 13-year-old with equally golden hair
and soft blue eyes. In her left hand she carried a full sports bag, in her right was a
lanky 1-year-old Alsation.
“That must be Strider.” The visitor stated, indicating the dog, “And you’ll be
“Yes and yes.” Came his reply. “And you are?”
Rebeka looked at this curious, quiet stranger, not knowing what to say. “So, um, I
guess we should go then, everyone else is out today.”
The two climbed into Elnumen’s green Landrover and began the long drive to
London. Once there, Rebeka was led to a beautiful restaurant. Angel Eats, it was
called. Elnumen sat her down.
“Would you like anything?” He asked.
“No, not right now.” Rebeka didn’t say anything, but as each minute passed she
became more and more nervous, though she did not know why.
“Okay.” He paused. Rebeka waited. He continued. “There are some things I’ve been
asked to talk to you about.” Watching him, Rebeka wondered how
“Have you ever heard of The Lord of The Rings?”
“Yes! I love it!”
“Do you remember Legolas’ surname?”
“Greenleaf,” then she got it. That was why the name had sounded so familiar in the
“Yes, Legolas Greenleaf was the founder of the school.”
“Hang on! You’re saying that the story, The Lord of the Rings, actually happened?”
“OK. Right. Last year I found out that the Wizarding world of Harry Potter is real, but
Harry isn’t. Now I find that Tolkien’s world is real.”
“Are you going to say anything else other than `yes’?!?”
“Yes” Elnumen looked serious for a moment, then his face broke into a smile. “Beks,
I am going to tell you two very important things.”
“Go on.” She decided to ignore the fact that he’d called her `Beks’.
“First, your real name, I mean your Elvish one, is Celana, and second, I’m… I’m your
brother.” Elnumen watched her as she took in the information, the confusion revealed
in her pretty eyes. “Cel- Rebek- What would you- “
“Rebeka for now.” She watched Elnumen out of the corner of her eye. Her brother?
“Did you ever know our parents.” She released the question bugging her most.
For the rest of the afternoon and evening, Elnumen taught Rebeka about the Elven
world to which she now belonged. He spoke of many things, of the Uruk-Hai and the
Orcs. Dwarves, Hobbits, Men. Of bygone Kings and Queens. And battles which had
been fought and won, or lost. But not their parents, Elnumen managed to somehow
elude that subject.
The next day, Elnumen led Rebeka through Angel Eats out to a beautiful street, plain,
yet beautiful. Upon either side was a combination of shops, trees, bushes and people,
no, Elves. Rebeka pulled out her list.
“Bank first.” said Elnumen noticing what she had done. He turned her past a giant oak
tree to a small Tudor-like shop displaying a pile of coins and the word `Bank’ on a
wooden sign which swung in the breeze. “Celana Silme’s safe please. Brindan.” He
asked a tall brown Elf inside.
“Elnumen! It’s good to see you again!” The Elf exclaimed, most to Rebeka’s surprise.
“And this’ll be… Celana. I was wondering when I’d see you here.” Brindan told her.
She smiled back, not quite sure what else to do.
“We were at Greenleaf’s together.” Elnumen whispered to Rebeka while Brindan was
fetching some of her money. She nodded.
“Here you are!” He bustled back in. “I hope you enjoy Greenleaf’s, Celana. Oh, and
do come again Elnumen, I’ve not seen you in ages! Naramie!”
“Not quite that long, my friend. Naramie.”
Together Elnumen and Rebeka visited each shop, buying books, uniform, herbs, quills
and parchment – something from almost every shop. Lastly Elnumen took her to the
biggest shop, right at the end of the street: Feilon’s Harma.
“I `d like to get you a present, you know…”
“Don’t worry.” She cut in, noticing his, well, shyness. “I know.”
Rebeka watched him interestedly, what kind of gifts did Elves give? He wandered
over to the weapons area where there was a collection of short swords and daggers on
“I can’t get you one of those, it’s not allowed.” Rebeka heard a tinge of regret in his
voice and smiled. In Angel Eats, he’d shown her his most prized possession, his
sword. Malta, he’d named it, the Quenya word for gold.
Elnumen picked up a beautiful black scabbard, embroidered with a silver vine
twisting all around it. “But I can get you this, what do you think?”
“It’s beautiful, but if I can’t have a sword, or dagger, what do I use it for?”
“That time will come.”
She frowned at him but he walked away to the till.
Rebeka met Elnumen outside the shop and received her present. They spent the rest
of that day, and the next, wandering along the main street and sidestreets, continuing
the conversation from Angel Eats.