It was the heart of winter, but winter never really came to Gondor, not like in the colder climes in the north of the world. It never snowed in the Cape of Belfalas. In the summer it was dry and hot, in the winter it was rainy and misty and humid. Today it was a beautiful day, cool and clear and cloudless.
They bought some supplies in the little marketplace above the Cathlond docks where Delioron always went shopping when he was home. The supplier looked curiously at Delioron’s companion, a woman with a pale face, dark hair and blue, sparkling eyes. The supplier did not know Delioron well, but this was the first time she remembered seeing him with a female companion. What did she know about Delioron in the first place? Not much. A retired historian who was often away traveling. She thought Delioron was awfully young to be retired, but perhaps he had inherited enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life. Yes, that had to be the case, since he could afford a house in this neighborhood. A quiet man who liked to keep to himself. Independently wealthy. Not very young anymore, but not too old either. A handsome, chiseled face…
The supplier made a sour face at the other woman. Some people had all the luck in the world.
They packed their supplies on their horses and continued down the road that ran through the seaside into the tip of Narvindon, where a great lighthouse stood vigil by the Bay of Belfalas. Delioron’s house was not far from the lighthouse. The Cape Road, which ran around the cape, turned east and slightly northeast from the lighthouse, and soon enough they saw the house, on their right side by the sea.
Elwil had not spoken in a while. She looked at the house and thought that it looked exactly what she had imagined from what Delioron had told her. She looked at him. He looked different now, in the warm light of the Cape of Belfalas. The light softened the hardness and the edges of his face.
He had kept his word. He had promised Elwil she would be safe, and he had made it true. She was not afraid anymore. He had promised Elwil to show her his house one day, and he had kept that promise too. The memories of the horrors she had endured in Bree and Buckland were fading fast.
She felt a little ashamed and silly now for the way she had automatically assumed betrayal by Delioron’s part when she had been attacked at the ruins outside of Bree by the Ranger of the South. It amazed her now that it had not even occurred to her that she could have been set up by Greengage, when it felt so much more logical assumption in hindsight. All the lies and secrets, the attempts to kill her, living in a state of constant insecurity had warped her mind, made her see enemies in every corner.
How could he live like that? How could he have retained his sanity after existing in such a maze of shadows and lies for years and decades?
Elwil thought she understood Delioron a little better now. He was not born the way he was, he had been turned into it by years of such unnatural existence. She had never heard him laugh and she had never seen him cry, but sometimes she saw that lost, panicked, frightened thing in his eyes that replaced tears. She wished he could merely cry instead because then she could have comforted him.
Elwil helped Delioron carry the supplies inside. The house was dark and silent when they entered. He went from room to room to light the candles and braziers and built a fire in the stone fireplace in the great hall.
Then they sat in front of the fire and listened to it’s roaring. Later they ate and drank wine and made love on the rug before the fire. Then they embraced each other, seeking shelter against the night that slowly enveloped the house and darkened the garden of trees outside until the shadows and the trees were as one. The shadows permeated the house, and only the flickering flames could repel the shadows for a while, keep them warm for a while, until the shadows won and darkness enveloped them in it’s cold embrace again.
