Estarfin came into the Hall, and, as he bowed to me, obviously took note of my garb. He looked at me very keenly for a moment, and seemed very surprised. Then he said, in his abrupt manner, “You were made a Caun?”
“Indeed, only last week,” I answered, and smiled at him with all the cordiality I could muster. I had not taken off the blue hauberk of Caunship in as many days, because my position demands the utmost formality of behavior and appearance, and Lord Anglachelm could summon me, or walk into the Hall at any moment.
Estarfin hesitated; I suppose this tid-bit of information was slowly sifting into his brain, and I became a trifle nervous. I often found him sudden of temper, with little patience for anything that irritated him. But I am always very careful, and his moods mean nothing to me. Still, I felt a vague sense of uneasiness, and suspected that Estarfin did not share in the belief that I was fit to be a Caun. It disappointed me heartily, and I felt, not for the first time, out of place, as a foreigner might in some alien town, alone, and shut out from any confidence. A shadow had fallen across our friendship, from the day of the Trial, and it filled me with bitterness, to know that it was no longer in my power to make any reparation or reconciliation.
I have seen enough of these Noldor to understand the powerful bonds of friendship that bind this proud clan together. They do not forget any slight, no matter how small. So I turned the talk to topics other than myself, but no matter how very tactfully and gently the topic broached, Estarfin would answer only with curt and obstinate replies. Then I left the Hall, firmly resolved to change the mind of Estarfin toward me. He might not see me as a friend any more, but he would see Lord Anglachelm’s faith in his new Caun was not misplaced. I have always admired our lordship’s ability to sustain difficult relations with certain folk with the utmost good temper and courtesy, and I am resolved to follow this example in my dealings with Estarfin.
In the beginning, I should have been perfectly content to remain in the Greenwood, to meet no one, to go nowhere but to the River, and wander in solitude under the tall trees. Life flowed outside the wood; I saw the King’s court ride out at dusk, and the sight filled me with dreams. What lay beyond the hills and trees, that they sought so joyfully? I meant to find out. It was a much larger place than I had ever imagined, and full of hazards: no matter the person, high or low, rich or poor, in the Wild there is no control of the weather, help is far away, and there are dangers everywhere he goes. I have undergone disappointment, failures, irritations and trials, just as anyone else does who ventures into the wide world, but I have met some excellent and generous people, too. It is as the sage once said, He that would eat the fruit, must climb the tree. Even now, there is something to be learned, some new difficulty to surmount every day, and oftentimes there is sadness in success.
