So the weeks passed by. The ice-cold nights and twinkling stars of Turuhalme came and went. Barahirn and I had a small meal and celebration for the festival, and we visited others in the Homestead with gifts of food and wine. We were made more welcome than I had feared, others telling us they did not like to think we were alone that time of year. They spoke well of Lady Danel, but seemed a little apprehensive of Filignil, though all agreed they had heard impressive things concerning her cooking skills. Some few were a little concerned about Lord Estarfin, calling him ‘somber and dour’. They should have known him in earlier days, I had thought. He was far more at ease now than when I knew of him in Imladris.
And on that subject, Barahirn and I made a toast to Lady Danel and Lord Estarfin at Mid-Winter, knowing they planned their betrothal at that time. We called upon the Lady of the Stars to bless and guide them.
Alas, Ceuro did not arrive at the Halls in time to celebrate. But a letter did. Well written and warm of content, he explained he had work that needed completing, but hoped to be with me soon. It seemed a few folk in Mithlond were now taking opportunity to have new or better armour crafted. Ceuro was pleased to have the work, and pleased they had turned to a Noldo smith. But he spoke briefly of the sense of ill-ease over what was happening in lands further East as being the cause. He liked it not that even some of the Falathrim looked to arm themselves.
It was the time of snowdrops before he was finally at Numenstaya. The days had been short, the weather chill, though we had no snow. Barahirn and I had tended the animals, kept clean all the houses, read from the books in the large library and told each other tales of our recent years until, one morn shortly after dawn, someone walked up behind me and swept the large bag of feed I held out of my arms while I was attending the chickens.
“Let me help you with that, Lady.”
I had turned happily at the sound of his voice, finding him clad in dull travelling clothes, but with a bright light in his eyes. “Yes, he could stay for a few weeks. Yes, he had another commission to finish, and yes, by late Spring he hoped to be at the Halls permanently.
“There is likely to be work for Lord Estarfin, when he returns,” Ceuro had said, on that first day, when he and I and Barahirn sat at evening meal. “His skill is better known hereabouts than mine.Though there are some most worthy smiths among their own folk, yet their strength lies in silver-work rather than armour and weapons. May it be the Falathrim turn to these Halls, once he returns.” He had taken up a piece of bread to mop up the remaining juices from the apple and boar stew I had made.
“May it be he will consider training me also,” Barahirn had spoken of his own desire. “He let me ‘help’ when he made armour for Lord Parnard.” He too cleaned his plate.
I had chuckled. “Parnard used to be Lord Ambassador you know, for the House of Vanimar, back in Imladris.”
Ceuro had known, having spent some time in Imladris. Barahirn had opened his eyes widely.
“Yes, I know, Barahirn. But you must admit he can be most eloquent. He can be diplomatic when he chooses.”
Barahirn paused in thought for a moment, then he smiled and nodded. “I should not like a battle of wits with him.”
“They should be in Mirkwood by now,” Ceuro added. “I hope all is well for them. The Hithaeglir is less troublesome at the moment, it is far worse when the thaw begins.They did go over the Mountains rather than the Redhorn Pass?”
I nodded. “The best of four bad paths, the Lady said.”
We finished our meal, then I brought a couple of bottles of wine from our remaining store from the Autumn Feast.
Cold and dark weather outside, warm food, good wine and wonderful company inside. What more could I wish for?
“You have heard naught from them yet?” Taking up his glass, Ceuro headed over to sit by the fire. Barahirn followed. I smiled at them both. They got along very well, with Barahirn constantly asking questions of the considerably older ellon. I was not envious. I knew Ceuro and I would make time to talk ourselves.
“I had a letter from the Lady, from Imladris. It just said all were safe, and that she hoped all was well here.”
Barahirn nodded and helped himself to some of the apple and blackberry pie he had made.
And we passed several nights in a similar manner, with Barahirn departing early for his own quarters, and of course to check the horses. Of a day we attended the animals as usual, and started a little on the Kitchen Gardens. If the weather was bright, we would ride out to the forest and the edges of Yondershire, or into Celondim. Ceuro and I walked by the river and often watched the stars. He spoke more openly of remaining with me, though also a little of the chance of war. He hated the idea of the later.
“I am glad we shall be near Mithlond,” he had said one evening when we huddled together under a frozen sky. “If it comes to the worst, you must take ship.”
“And you?” I asked.
“I do not know if I can,” was his somewhat mystifying reply. His eyes were shadowed for a short time, but I did not press for an answer.
“But if you can, you will?” I asked.
“Oh, yes.”
And then came the time of the bright yellow daffodils. Ceuro returned to Mithlond, for a month or two at the most, he told me. We hugged each other, knowing we did not wish to part, but the time apart would not be long. I missed him when he rode away. Barahirn missed him too, especially his talk about forging.
“The days will pass swiftly,” I told my companion. “Ceuro, and Lady Danel, Lord Estarfin, Parnard and his Lady, they will all be back before we know it.”
He had nodded somewhat excitedly. I had seen without doubt how good Barahirn was with horses, but I understood wanting to do something other than one’s early trade. I had been a sail-maker, but now…..
But it rained after that. Every day it rained. The wagon bearing food supplies from Duilond got its wheels stuck in mud, and was four days late in arriving. We had a visit from two soaking wet Dwarves, looking for Lord Estarfin on a matter of trade they said would benefit him as much as them. They left a letter, but after food and drink rode on to Duilond before planning to return to the Blue Mountains.
The fields of once bright daffodils bent their heads under the constant rain, almost as if they were weeping. The animals remained restless in their stalls.
Then came a day we had several visitors. It was the day everything changed.
