Heart of Flame: A Tale Of Sauron

A Solo Role

A body twists to smoke on the deck of a burning ship, vanishes to nothingness. She knows he's gone, but can't accept it. Then another man is run through with a flashing blade and set alight, she watches him crash into the ocean.

They are gone. 

Both both in the passing of a mere moment. And yet her brain won't accept it, an unimaginable loss so great that the heart balks at it's enormity.

But this is not the last scene of horror she will witness. Not by far.

***

The other girls whispered among themselves as she dressed herself after rehearsal, even the ones she shared a jail cell with for a whole night. Daisy and Betty stood off to the side with two other girls, their eyes narrowed and voices low as they spoke, casting glances in her direction.

"I can't believe he'd do something like this without talking to me first," Ivy ranted under her breath at Maryanne. "It's absurd."

"He did mention it when you went to dinner the other night," Maryanne reminded her.

Ivy shook her head vigorously. "No, no you see, he said he had a business proposition to discuss. Not that he was going to make me the lead dancer and soloist in the first show we put on. It's like he's got cotton for brains. Doesn't he know how that looks when a girl jumps that high up the totem pole without even a lead group role first?"

Maryanne tugged on her cardigan. "Maybe he thought you were ready for it. He said on several occasions that he was impressed with your talent."

Her head spun with exhaustion. After another sleepless night plagued by dreams of burning ships, ravaged battlefields and toppling towers, she ended up watching the sunrise from the fire escape outside their window. After burning through a whole pack of cigarettes, she concluded that she was going insane. There was no other alternative. 

She refused to consider what the Chauffeur had said to her. He had been mysteriously absent for the past couple weeks. After not being able to shake him, he had disappeared without a by-your- leave. Oddly, she was annoyed by it, like he felt he had to right to disturb her peace of mind then saunter away as if he didn't owe her a thing. She didn't even know his name, for Christ's sake.

After pinching her finger on a shoe buckle, she winced and sucked on the tip of her thumb. "You know, I'm going to give that no good, dirty, rotten, scheming..."

"If you're thinking about confronting Mal Smith about all this, it's a bad idea." Maryanne stepped in front of her and steered her towards the dressing room table. "Just sit down, fix your lipstick and fluff your hair. You'll feel better in no time. I've got a date tonight, you interested in coming along?"

Ivy groaned and thumped her forehead onto a section of the vanity's surface that wasn't covered in make up containers. "Is it that awful Texan again?"

"No, he's local. I met him by chance at a party last weekend, the one you skipped out on because of a headache. He mentioned he has a friend that's going stag to this party we're crashing. You interested?"

With a heavy sigh, Ivy massaged her temples. "What the hell. Why not."

Maryanne squealed. "I bet his friend is really nice. My date is so handsome, this gorgeous mop of thick black hair and he's such an elegant dresser. I guarantee his friend is made of the same stuff."