A Kind of Magic

Eighteen

They walked across the desolate park in silence, the trees above them shivering in the wind and rain, the sound entwining with the distant whoosh of the late night traffic and the splash of their four pairs of feet making their way through uncountable puddles.

It was strange how Fiona found those sounds calming as usual. She loved walking, sometimes even in the rain. But why didn't the presence of the three strange men make her feel nervous? It was as if... they belonged to her somehow, and she... was almost feeling responsible for them. They looked like three lost boys in this world of which they so obviously were not part of...

"Botheration," she muttered under her breath, trying to restrain her racing thoughts and focus on the here and now, as she thrudged on through the drizzle on Gilderoy's arm, the two of them followed closely by... Peregrine and Leodhais-- just what sort of names were they?-- until they reached the pub situated across the road from her flat.

It hit her where she had seen a version of the name Peregrine before, even as she peeked through the windows of The Hobbit. She would like to see who would dare call this dark and impressive Peregrine Pippin, though... Sighing, she glanced at all the three men in turn, wanting to tell them to try to look normal, to try to blend with the small crowd of Londoners filling the pub despite the late hour, but changed her mind. It would be pointless; they were just too different and conspicuous; they looked as if they just stepped out of the pages of The Lord of the Rings, the books Freddie obsessed about at the moment. They even had a ring, for goodness' sake!

She rolled her eyes; she was being silly. Hopefully, they'll be gone again from her life before Freddie returns, or he'll want to keep them.

"Come on," she said on another sigh, pushing the door open, happy that the tall and dark one at least took the wide-brimmed hat off before entering.

To Fiona's surprise, the people gathered in The Hobbit pub did not seem to find anything strange about her companions, no one looked at them more than once as the four of them made their way to the bar. Only Helen, the barmaid who had become her close friend soon after she had moved here, raised her eyebrows at Fiona questioningly after she scrutinised her companions with interest and appreciation, then returned her look to them, her eyebrows disappearing under her thick brown fringe as she said, "Well hello, Fiona and friends! What a surprise. I'm Helen."

She offered her hand for a handshake to Leodhais, who brought it to his lips instead, even as he replied with a bow, "I'm Leodhais the elf, my lady."

Fiona could hear the catch in her friend's breath over the chatter of the late night customers, and even though she was sure that the woman was so intrigued by the charming man whose green eyes observed her curves with an interest of a connoisseur that she paid no attention to his words, she stepped on the said connoisseur's foot in warning none the less. Introducing himself as an elf wouldn't do.

The blond jumped, dropping Helen's hand and looking at Fiona, who shook her head vigorously, hoping that he would understand, their silent exchange making his two friends chuckle.

"Helen, is it too late to ask for something to eat? I know it's almost closing time, but they are hungry..." Fiona pleaded, turning to her friend again, moving closer to the bar to make room for a noisy group of people who made their way past them towards the exit.

"Oh no, it's not a problem. Go sit down and I'll bring you the menus in a minute," she said, her eyes never leaving Leodhais who was now observing Fiona, as if to learn from her how to interact with the people here, or simply to avoid Helen's look.

Whatever the reason, his intent look made her feel uneasy. Fiona wasn't used to be stared at, she always did her best to appear plain and ordinary after Freddie's father, the only man she had ever allowed herself to fall in love with, had left her heartbroken. She wasn't going to let a man treat her like that again; she had suffered enough for love. It wasn't worth it.