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Notebook Thief



Margyth was moving for a few minutes now. She marched forward quickly, turned the corner and stopped to glance back and see if anyone was following her. Then she changed the direction altogether.  She walked fast, she slowed down, she made an unexpected turn again... All this because she had stayed out after dark and now she wanted to be sure she wasn't being followed. No, the argument with the elf wasn't an adequate justification for this sloppiness, but it was definitely a contributing factor. How could it not be? "Whether you wish it or not," was still ringing in her ears. What did it mean?

 

She crossed the road just as a cart went past to make sure nobody saw her dive into a wild honeysuckle bush. From there, she observed the street. Now that she thought about it, the elf hadn't been making any sense whatsoever: first she was from Belfalas (she had to remember to check the exact location on the map as soon as she got to the Hall in the morning), then from Imladris, then from Bree and then... from nowhere altogether.

 

Margyth squinted at a man leaning against a nearby wall and smoking: was he only loitering or... No, he was walking away. Good! She had to be more careful, though. She did allow the elf to surprise her and steal her own notebook, after all. She snorted to herself: the sheer audacity of it! The elf wasn't big but she was armed, so Margyth didn't dare fighting or punching her, but she did damn well feel like it! Such a cheek! The elf did give her the notebook back but only after she had leafed through it. Margyth shook with anger.  These were her private thoughts, for goodness sake!

 

A magnificent girl, richly dressed and with long, flowing hair, cantered by on horseback and all eyes went to her. Margyth seized the opportunity, stepped out of the bush, threw her legs over the low wall, and passed behind the haystacks. She could walk fairly freely now but her head was still turning in search of anything untoward. Margyth was supposed to remind the elf about someone. Because Xanderian, as she had introduced herself, was looking for someone but… she wasn't looking at the same time? And she called Margyth a womanchild. More weirdness! Does anybody even speak like that? Not to mention that she seemed angry as if Margyth upset her somehow. But how and when? It was the first time they'd ever met.

 

Suddenly Margyth stopped dead in her tracks. What did Xanderian mean by the robbery? She pulled out her notebook again. She wouldn't have been stupid enough to write down anything silly in her book, would she? Doubting her own faculties a bit, she leafed through pages but found nothing. What on earth? No, it was impossible for the elf to know anything. She was just weird. Maybe not malicious but weird. She began to form a firm opinion on the matter: all elves were a bit… mad.

 

She ran up a few more steps and she was in her Room with a View. She smiled. The view was indeed beautiful but didn't she just hear a thunder?