One That Got Away

Chapter 28

Christopher Tolkien and Rachel Tolkien of No. 20 Northmoor Road, where Rachel took care of her aging father, were very much not expecting visitors that day in November, and were not expecting to be asked to see J.R.R.'s study. But when Rachel answered the door, ready to send away the giggling fangirls or scheming salesman, this is what she got. Three men, all tall and handsome and imposing and a petite girl with acidic hair and odd eyes.

"Good afternoon, Miss Tolkien. May we have a moment of your time?" the girl said and Rachel nodded, suddenly intrigued. Those tattoos on the girl's head were failiar. They looked like the writings framed in her father's room. "My name is Mara Rymtec and this is Kyle, Phillip and Thomas my..." silence, so tense you could play it like a violin. "Friends," Mara said and Thomas twitched. "We were wondering if we could see your grandfather's study," the girl said frankly. Rachel's face grew hard.

"No. I am so sorry but my father is very sick and we can't have any visitors messing around, snooping in Grandfather's old things," she said seriously.

"Please." It's the boy with dark hair. Kyle? "I know it's a terrible inconvenience for you but this is very important. We promise we won't take anything. Nothing but memories. Our whole lives have been changed by your family. We just wanted to see the room where it all started." He was begging with his eyes, hopeful, eyebrows turned up in a plead. Rachel's resolve wavered. Her eyes flicked to each in turn, settling on the grim eyes of that Thomas fellow. He wasn't about to beg. Not even an inch. But he did want this. He wanted it so much it hurt Rachel's chest.

"You must leave when I tell you," Rachel said and a smile split across the girl's face.

"Of course, madam."

"Come in. Mind your shoes, I don't want to be vacuuming mud and God knows what else once you're gone," she sniped, defensive at the irregularity. They wiped their shoes and followed her in as she lead them deeper into the house. She pushed on the heavy wooden door and it eased open, hinges carefully maintained. The study was very neat and organized, a fire kept in the fireplace and nothing changed from how it was when Rachel's Grandfather worked in there.

"Grandfather always worked with the windows open. Even at night. Said the the wide world inspired him," Rachel said as they filed in. Kyle moved to the fireplace, hands stretched towards the warmth as he examined the mantle piece with an analytic eye. Phillip started casting about, mustache braids, which Rachel found odd, tossing. What was he looking for? Thomas was looking too, but more carefully, eyes taking in every inch of the room. The girl, Mara, was taking an intent curiosity in the curtains.

"Is it normally like this?"

"Yes. It's just always being there and closed. Anytime anyone was in here it was closed. Grandfather...he never pulled it back..." Mara reached out a hand and gently pulled back the green velvety fabric, revealing a stained glass window. "My stars," Rachel murmured and Thomas takes a step towards it. The window was a depiction of Gandalf the white, his staff extended and letting off lights. A hobbit was next to him, but Rachel couldn't tell if it was Frodo or Bilbo. Mara looks it over in awe then again with a shrewd eye. Her finger traced the glass where the stone in the staff should have been. It was different, clear and oddly thin.

"What's that?" Mara asked pointing over the window. Rachel looked up.

"What's what?"

"That nail there, It's a little...out of place," Mara said and Rachel shrugged.

"Dunno. Grandfather had his oddities. Liked everything just so," Rachel said. Mara shared a look with Thomas who nodded as Phillip kept examining the window and Kyle ran a hand along the carvings on the bookshelves. Mara seems disappointed and Rachel suddenly feels guilty. "We could ask dad...he's just had a nap so he should be in a talking mood."