Marawendi

Estarfin reached out to carefully touch the fabric of my dress. “It is beautiful,” he said. He smiled brightly, softly, almost as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. 

“I suppose she should be able to defend herself…but only at great need,” Parnard answered, after a long pause. “There are no Trolls to be found in these parts, I think.”

I was not sleeping well. Rather, I replayed my decision of the past two weeks regarding what I knew of Naraal, and what I withheld from Estarfin. I asked myself time and again, why I had not told him that Naraal had been outside Numenstaya to claim the Mithril owed the Black Dwarf. 

Parnard burst into the house. Seeing the two Noldor look up from the breakfast table in surprise, he gave a short gasp, then immediately collected himself, smoothed his hair back, and offered a casual nod in greeting. 

Estarfin had suggested Parnard slept outside, under the lights of Tintallë. I first thought of the sea, the mantle of Ulmo, for defense.  A different Vala, but the same need for an ally whose will could not be challenged. Oh, I was angry then, at myself for not seeing clearly earlier; with the Sorceress Zairaphel and her petulant tenacity.

((This tale comes after  Numenstaya but before A Troubled Homecoming.  ))

Parnard rose to his feet and bowed before Estarfin as he approached us. He looked a little weary to me, though not overly so. We tried to take regular shifts of guard duty, he and I, Yrill and Ceuru and Filignil. Barahirn protested he was also able to take his turn, but we deemed he needed a couple more weeks rebuilding his strength.