Veryacano

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. 

“Mmm, I see,” said Parnard, nodding. “That this rankled in your breast so, all this time: you should have told me sooner.” *

The words stunned Estarfin into a temporary silence. Even after the passage of years, Parnard still did not understand him, did not understand how deep of a wound his failure in the mountains had caused him.

***

My dearest Eliriael,

The map had made no mention of this place. A looming stone shape stood before him, dark and forbidding. He dismounted carefully from the bay mare, ensuring his boots made as little noise as possible on the loose scree outside the squat ruin. He whispered a word of caution to the tired horse, patting her mane as he did so.