“Look! That pointy-eared wants to play with us” exclaimed the ten year old boy.
He stood in front of the girl that had just come, hands on hips and asked:
“By the way, why do you have such odd pointed ears?”
Lykawyn sighed. She had got weary and frustated of explaining that to people.
“It is just because I am an elf” she said “My mom says that all the elves have pointed ears”
“An elf?” Hirion was surprised, although he had heard rumours about that.
“Then why do you live here?” he asked “Why don’t you go and find the elves to live with?”
“I fancy staying here, so I do not leave” shouted Lykawyn with a sudden burst of anger. “Now, I can’t see why this bothers everyone around here.”
The boy was fairly annoyed by her words. “I bother because I do not want to play with hot-tempered pointy-eared elf-girls like you.” he said angrily.
Lykawyn was taken aback. She did not expect such a reply. Finally, she plucked up the courage and said: “Very well, then. If this is how you feel I am not staying longer. Goodbye!” Then she left.
When she arrived at her home she was on the verge of crying. Her foster parents were both at home. A bright fire was on the hearth and Feorian was serving dinner. A smell of potatoes and meat with onion sauce lingered in the room. Lykawyn sat to have dinner. She was eating slowly and said nothing at all. Feorian noticed that.
“What’s wrong with you, dear?” she asked.
“Nothing” Lykawyn replyed quietly.
Feorian felt that this was not true but decided to let her speak when she wanted to. As soon as she had finished dinner, Lykawyn sat by the fireplace, gazing at the crackling flames thoughtfully. She reached for the tongs and stirred the fire.
Meanwhile, Feorian was staring at her, sure that the girl would at last get her problem off her chest, and she was proved right. Suddenly, Lykawyn spoke but quietly, as if to herself.
“I wish I wasn’t an elf, mom.I wish I were a human like everyone in this village and I wish I were your real child.”
Feorian smiled sadly. This was not the first time she had heard this from her foster daughter’s lips.
“I also wish I were your real mother” she said softly “yet, you know that this means little to me as well as your dad. But why do you wish you were not an elf? Elves are the fairest and wisest of all beings and they are also immortal. You should be happy that you are born an elf.”
“I am the only one in this village who has tipped ears” said Lykawyn bitterly “and although thirty years have passed since dad found me in the woods, I neither look nor feel older than a ten year old child”
“That’s not surprising” said Feorian “All the elves have tipped ears and they grow mature slower than Woodmen. There is nothing unnatural in you.”
Lykawyn shook her head. “I do not think so” she said ” If I were living with elves, then it would be this way, but now I seem to be unnatural. I am different and I hate this. I am the elf… The pointy eared…”
“Listen to me, Lykawyn and never foget what I am going to tell you.” Deohill said joining the conversation. “Being different is not connected with being inferior. On the contrary, in this case, Elves have a far greater civilisation than Men and you should be proud that you are an elf. Being different doesn’t mean being unnatural. It just means that you are unique.”
Lykawyn felt consolated by this small piece of wisdom. “I think you are right, daddy” she said and smiled gratefully “Thank you!”
We return to the forests again. Our hobbit friend has lost all faith and finds the true meaning of apathy by the end of this chapter. He is taken captive by a band of elves and one human. This chapter suggests that some of his past will be revealed soon.