第 42 页

* * *

“It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re going to bleed.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re going to cry.”

“You wish.”

“I’m going to take pictures.”

“You best not, bitch.”

Aredhel swung out a foot to trip Celegorm but he hopped over it. She stuck her tongue out at him. “They’re gonna mess it up. And then you’re gonna be stuck with some artistic atrocity, and hafta get it removed– have you ever seen that done? How they have to feather in the anesthetic with hypodermics under the skin? I’ve seen it; my mom made all of us watched a removal so that we’d think twice before getting one. Arko threw up.”

Celegorm curled his lip at her. “Remind me why I’m bringing you?”

“Because I’m your best friend.” Aredhel skipped up and attempted to drape an arm over Celegorm’s shoulders, but couldn’t quite reach. She settled for tweaking the bill of his baseball cap down over his face. “I am here for emotional support.”

“Yeah, but all I hear is you trying to get me to chicken out.”

“If you really want to do this, you have to consider all the ways it can go wrong, and then STILL do it. That’s what I’m helping with.”

Celegorm sighed. “So far, the main way it’s going wrong is bringing you along.”

“Hey, fair’s fair. You got to come when I got my bellybutton pierced.”

“Yeah, that was actually kinda gross.”

“Do you know how much worse this is going to be?”

Celegorm grabbed Aredhel by the shoulders, pulling her up short. She grinned at him as he shook her lightly. “Irissë, I swear to god…”

“It’s pretty sweet that you’re doing this, honestly.”

Celegorm took a deep breath. “Really?”

“Yes. Is it going to be identical?”

“No. I mean for one, I couldn’t get a good enough rendering of it for the artist, and also, individuality and whatever, right? But it’s…similar. A whatchacallit, homage kinda thing.”

“He’s going to be pretty surprised when he sees.”

“That’s the idea.”

They started walking again, Aredhel threading an arm around Celegorm’s waist as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his Beleriand U. letterman jacket. “How are you going to keep it hidden from him for that long?”

“What?”

“You don’t want to show him when it’s fresh. It’ll be all gross and scabby and bleedy and pus-y.”

Celegorm stopped again. “For how long?”

“Have you not done any research on this? For fuck’s sake, Tyelko.”

“I did do research! I’ve got the best artist in town – have you seen Egalmoth’s work? – and he did some design mock-ups for me, and I even refrained from downing a bottle of whiskey beforehand, because he said that was against the rules…”

“But you didn’t research healing times.”

“I factored in a week,” said Celegorm defensively, “He won’t be back from that conference in Akron until next Thursday…”

“Just in time for you to be nice and scabby!”

“Nooo…”

Aredhel shrugged. “Well, then just steer clear of him for a bit.”

“Yeah, I can’t do that.”

“Why n-”

“Not see Oromë for a week? When we’re both in town? I don’t have that kind of self control.”

“Well, that’s true enough. You’re a hopeless case.” She socked him lightly in the arm.

“Please, like you’re not exactly the same with Elenwë.”

Aredhel ignored this. “Then you’ll just have to not let him see you with your shirt off.”

They both considered this.

“No showering together, no sleeping naked, fucking with a shirt on…”

“He’s gonna think you’ve been body-snatched.”

“Goddamnit, Ireth.”

Aredhel twiddled her mittened thumbs. “Have I ruined your plan with logic and rationality?”

“Yeah, I told you to knock that shit off.”

“Sorry,” said Aredhel contritely. “Look, it’s no disaster if he sees it before it’s perfectly healed. I think he’ll still really like it.”

“Hope so.”

They walked on in silence for a while, Celegorm running musing fingers over his shoulder every once in a while, as if imagining what would soon be there. Aredhel hummed tunelessly and kicked a rock along for a block or so until it skittered off into a storm drain. She grew more alert as they headed into the warehouse district. They were about to pass adjacent to the great empty lot where the Alqualondë Factory had once stood, and where now instead were the simple white lines of the memorial. There were often tributes left here, and other times, there were protesters, standing with their backs to the marble, their condemnatory signs screaming silently towards the city center. Aredhel knew Celegorm would never confront protesters at the site itself, but seeing the signs always made him turn stony and cold, and so she hoped to hurry him past.

There were no protesters there tonight, though – only one figure knelt by the memorial, placing a candle in a simple glass holder. Aredhel wrapped her fingers around Celegorm’s arm and tried nonchalantly to pull him along in a way that made it seem like she wasn’t pulling him along. He glanced down at her, a crooked smile on his lips, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. He looked briefly at the figure by the memorial, and she saw him frown.

“What time does the shop close?” she asked to distract him.

“Hang on,” he said slowly. “Is that…that looks like…”

The figure was straightening up from the candle; and Aredhel could see that it was woman, wrapped in a long down coat, though her hood was pushed back and her head was bare. She was gazing up at the memorial, quite absorbed, though she kept brushing at her overlong black bangs, which were falling into her eyes.

“It is. Why would she be -”

“Is what?” Aredhel dragged on Celegorm’s arm as he stopped almost entirely to regard the woman by the memorial. “Come on, Tyelko, what if we miss your appointment slot?”

“It’s her, it’s the-”

“There’s a car coming, Tyelko, get outta the street.”

By the time the car had passed, the woman had started off down the street away from them, having never turned in their direction. Celegorm stared after her for a while, then shook his head and carried on, looking down in faint surprise at Aredhel, who had been dragging at his arm for the past five minutes.

“Can I help you with something, Irissë?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said in exasperation as they continued on down the street. “Don’t mind me, I’m sure.”

“I tend not to.”

They rounded the corner and came into the part of the warehouse district that had been taken over by indie art galleries and glass-blowing studios – and one or two artfully run-down but impeccably managed tattoo parlors. A blinking neon sign halfway down the block proclaimed that Heavenly Arch Ink & Steel was open for business.

Egalmoth, spiky haired and many-earring’ed, looked up from behind the counter and waved cheerily, the brilliantly colored tattoos that covered his arms exposed by rolled up shirtsleeves. “Wolf boy! Right on time.” He smiled at Aredhel. “Is this your emotional support?”

“Something like that,” said Celegorm, shrugging out of his jacket.

Aredhel beamed at him. “Wolf boy, eh?”

“Oh, you’re gonna remember that one, aren’t you?”

“Mmmm yes, I think so. But if you’re very lucky I won’t text your brothers about it.”

“ ‘s long as you don’t text my dad about it. You know how he is about tattoos. Makalaurë still won’t wear short sleeves around him because he’s so terrified of how he’ll react.”

“The difference is that if you start wearing long sleeves and turtle necks all the time around him, he’s gonna KNOW something is up.”

“What did I say about you ruining my plans with logic and rationality?”

“You said to stop it.”

“I did.”

“Sorry, bro.”

A purple-haired woman with the silhouette of a swallow tattooed on the side of her neck emerged from the back of the shop, working at a very large silver ring with a polishing cloth. She nodded at Celegorm, obviously recognizing him, and winked at Aredhel. “You here to get something done, babe? Something inked? Something pierced?”

“Not today, I think,” said Aredhel blithely.

“You sure? You’d look wicked cute with a septum piercing.”

Aredhel shook her head, grinning, as Egalmoth said, “Duilin, I told you, no piercing the unwilling.”

“Never,” said Duilin, spinning the ring around one finger, and then flicking it expertly across the shop using her polishing cloth as a slingshot. Egalmoth caught it and laid it on the counter, shaking his head.

“It’s merchandise, not ballistics.”

“That’s what you think.”

Turning his attention back to Celegorm, Egalmoth came out from behind the counter and gestured to one of the curtained off areas where customers sat for their tattoos.

“I’ll get a chair for your friend to sit next to you – ”

“So you can hold my hand,” said Aredhel seriously. “And so I can blot your tears when you weep from the pain. Hey, Duilin, was it? Can I borrow your cloth for tear blotting?”

“There will be no weeping, Irissë, though there may be ass-kicking if you don’t shut up.”

“ – and I can get to work on the outline.” Egalmoth pulled on a pair of plastic gloves. Aredhel perched in the chair Duilin had brought over and clammed up as Celegorm leaned forward to listen to Egalmoth. “Since it’s fairly simple line art, and you’re not going for major color or anything, I think we can do it in one session. You ready for this?”

“Hell yes,” said Celegorm, and pulled his shirt off over his head.

Find the sun in the dark side of my shadow

Rúmil turned over Maedhros’ resume to examine his references. “Very impressive. Of course, I think most of us know what you accomplished just out of college. The work you did for the company was quite remarkable, and I have to wonder why you’re coming to us, after all that.” She took of her glasses and looked at him rather closely, if kindly. “You seemed to have an aptitude for such work, and certainly that’s where the bulk of your experience lies. I’d have to say – ”

Maedhros leaned forward in his chair anxiously. “I know I don’t have a lot of professional experience in this area, but I’ve given it a lot of thought and this is far more where my interests lie. Working in industry was…the family business. But it’s not what I’m passionate about. I’ve already started applications for grad school so I can start working on my degree – and license – right away. This would be a great opportunity for me to start building more hands-on experience, and – ”

“More hands-on experience?” Rúmil’s eyes dropped to his resume again. “I don’t see that you have done anything in the way of this kind of work.”

“No,” said Maedhros, and despite his nerves, he couldn’t help but smile. “But I am the eldest of seven. I have had immersive experience working with children.”

“True enough.” Rúmil steepled her fingers and looked thoughtful. “I remember you coming to pick up your brothers when they were here. You did always have a way with them.”

“I taught two of my brothers to read,” said Maedhros, trying not to feel embarrassed that this was all he had to show for his so-called experience. “And I was a tutor all through high school, and part of college. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but this is exactly the kind of thing I want to do more of.”

“You know this is hardly a prestigious position? It’s essentially one step above being a volunteer.”

“I don’t need prestige. And I’d happily volunteer," said Maedhros earnestly, "if that was my only option.”

Rúmil hummed, and closed the file on his paperwork. “Well, we already have one young woman coming in a couple times a week to do music with the afterschool program, and it would be nice to have another set of hands. You are far over-qualified in some ways, and rather under-qualified in others, but the afterschool could certainly use you. I will just need to run a couple routine background checks – CORI and so on – and then I’ll get in touch with you about your start dates. Let me know how the grad school process goes.”

“Thank you,” said Maedhros in relief. “I really appreciate this opportunity, ma’am.”

“Nelyafinwë, I’ve known you since you were five years old, you don’t have to call me ‘ma’am’.” Rúmil stood, and held out her hand. Maedhros stood too, unfolding his legs with difficulty from the too-small chair (Rúmil had apologized for holding their interview in one of the classrooms.) “It will be good to have one of you around again.”

Maedhros shook her hand. “It will be good to be back. Um, and if you don’t mind…I don’t know if you ever run into him, but if you do…Let me be the one to tell my father, won’t you?”

“Don’t worry, Nelyo,” said Rúmil, and dropped his hand with a faint smile. “It won't be a problem. Your father and I haven’t spoken in years.”

* * *

Amarië shifted the books in her arms and tried not to laugh as Galadriel muttered under her breath at her side.

“Artanis…”

“Mis-conjugated – As if I’ve mis-conjugated anything in my entire life – It can’t just be that he’s hard of hearing and too stubborn to get a hearing aid – non, professeur, of course I’m not being insubordonné, I’m just telling you that you’re wrong…”

“Artanis!”

“What?”

“You got a 94. You did better on your recitation than more than half the class.”

“94. Do you realize that’s one point away from an A-?”

“Yes, having gotten an A- myself.” Amarië smiled as her friend looked suddenly abashed.

“I’m being an ass, aren’t I.”

“Only a little bit.” Amarië shifted her books again so she could reach out to pat Galadriel on the arm. “Which isn’t to say that I don’t understand your frustration. You totally nailed the conjugation.”

“See - !” Galadriel caught herself again. “Yes. Quite. No point obsessing, right?”

“That’s right,” said Amarië soothingly. “What do you have now?”

“I was going to meet with Elenwë to discuss our project, but she heard from Irissë and had to rocket off. Something about needing to talk Irissë out of getting something pierced…”

“Doesn’t she already have – ”

“Something else pierced.”

“Ah.”

“So,” said Galadriel, as they started down the hill to the campus center. “How did the apartment showing go this weekend? Do you have a sub-letter now?”

“Oh, that. No. Well, maybe not. Sort of? I mean, he would be a good – But I’m not sure if – He may have been joking…”

Galadriel frowned. “Amarië, you’re babbling.”

“Elinel set up the visit, but managed not to give me the name of the prospective tenant who was coming over.”

“Okay…”

“So you can imagine my surprise when your cousin showed up at my door.”

“Which cousin?” said Galadriel at once. “Full or step? Tall or really tall? Male or – ”

“The former, the latter, and male, of course. Turukáno.”

“Oh. Huh.” Galadriel fell silent.

“I know. But I really need a roommate, and soon. The thing is that we actually get on really well, and I think he’d be a good roommate, but there’s the small issue of him being best friends with – ”

“Findaráto.”

Amarië flushed. “Yes.”

“No, I mean…” Galadriel stepped in front of Amarië, almost protectively, and Amarië craned her neck, confused, trying to look over Galadriel’s shoulder. Amarië was tall enough herself, but she had nothing on Galadriel. “…I mean, Findaráto, what are you doing here?”