“The mood of the company was grim, but hope remained that King Dior would see sense; that when the sons of Feanor arrived at Menegroth the doors would be open, with the Silmaril awaiting them.” (‘Memories of Doriath’ by Estarfin)
But hope remained…..aye, so said my father before he departed on that ill fated mission. ‘We still have hope that King Dior will understand.” he had said to me. I have never been quite sure he meant it. Had Dior really wanted to avoid conflict and protect his people he would have handed the jewel over to those he well knew were oathbound to redeem it. It was true his parents had wrested it from under Morgoth’s nose, but their quest was only undertaken because of the arrogance of Thingol; his wanting a bride-price for his daughter that he expected would mean the end of the would-be groom.
Nay. The Silmaril had been made by our prince’s sire. All brothers were oathbound to reclaim it. No matter how they resisted, they knew, eventually they would have no choice. Neither would we, for some of us had also made that oath.
My father had small hope things would be peacefully resolved. He knew he was speaking untruth to me about Estarfin. Had he lived, I believe I would have been quite angry with him for his deception, even though I understood his motives.
And now, as Estarfin and I both stood under a noon-tide sun, was there to be a reckoning for my ages of living with a lie?
‘I believed you slain,’ I wanted to shout. ‘Else I would have sought for you, if it had taken a thousand years or more! That being so, do you really think I would depart these lands without you…without even speaking with you?’
~ ~ ~
Estarfin closed his eyes. I could only guess at what he was recalling.
“I knew where our Prince was heading, as did we all. I knew what his warriors would likely have to do; what you and my father would have to do. And I told him I would go too. If you and he were to be slain or cursed, then I would be.” I fought back the ages of tears at that memory, and hoped it just might distract Estarfin. “But before he departed, my father told me you had been slain in an earlier skirmish. I could not believe it. Not you! You were one of Caranthir’s best warriors. But my father insisted you were gone, and bid me travel away and seek a new life.”
All those centuries of holding back the dreadful emptiness, which for me had been the end of hope, were nigh the surface. Oh, I had been young still, much less than two hundred summers at that time. Yet I had dwelt often in that particular memory, and held many others at arm’s length because of it. Could I dare let Estarfin see me thus? Turning, I blinked back tears and walked a small distance away.
For a moment I stood alone. Then I heard his footfall on the ground as he moved to stand by me again. He was frowning.
“From the beginning then,” I spoke aloud. “I ask you not to take offense at my words now, for they are not meant to cause any.”
“From the beginning. You remember that day in the Great Hall of the Citadel, when our Prince held a Feast for over a hundred of our folk; his officers, guards and their families? You were there with your parents…and your father struck you?” (a)
For a brief moment Estarfin looked almost embarrassed.
“I disobeyed him,” he said flatly.
“It may have been so. But that was the first I noticed you. Not the striking, but your reaction. Many would have shrunken into themselves, but you did not. I admired your courage and determination. You may have been wrong, but you were in no way defeated. If it would not have possibly worsened matters I would have left the hall and followed you then. Sometimes I could bring calm to situations. I would have tried speaking with you. But no matter, that is in the past. I was drawn to you from that moment though.”
I tilted my head to one side, and tried to look him in the eyes, though he was still looking down.
“I made time to watch you as you grew up. I watched you struggle to master the craft of the smith, when your heart was in following your father as a warrior. I carried messages from my father to Forodhir, though in truth I went to see how you were. And I saw some of what you created by will as well as art. Nothing dissuaded me from my first impression.
“I have never known another quite like him, not even in all my years,” I overheard Forodhir say to our Prince. And I think Caranthir kept an eye on you then, suspecting you would create great things in due course. But you also trained hard in the military skills. Both noble smith and honorable warrior I saw you become. And I spoke not with you of my thoughts for I saw clearly your love of your crafts. And I waited, thinking we had forever, and that when your worth was recognised, then I would step forward to see if you might have interest, or at the least we could be good friends? Only I waited overlong. My parents knew all of this.”
Estarfin seemed calmer of spirit now, the sea storm in his eyes stilled a little. “What would they think?” he asked.
“Now?”
He nodded.
What a question. I had not pondered that overly. Both were long since gone into the West. “My father always approved of you,” I said slowly. “I believe he still would, having shared some similarities.” I was quiet for a moment as I considered my mother. “She liked you too. Though she was initially concerned a little with your waywardness, fighting with other boys.”
I could not help but laugh at that memory. And Estarfin smiled. He actually smiled. That at least did my heart good.
“Ah, she liked you, but she persuaded my father that I should spend five years with her cousin’s family among the people of Ambarussa. I protested of course, but she insisted it was but a short time, and that being among those not of Thargelion would do me good. I returned but a few weeks before the attack, and you had already left on your command to Barad Eithel. I had thought we had all the time in the world.” I sighed deeply, recalling those times. “But you and Forodhir did not return that winter. Instead we had the flames of Angband.”
Estarfin looked slightly troubled. “Everything that could have been was washed away, everything changed. Everyone changed.”
I nodded in agreement.
“May I speak plainly,” he asked. It was strange, for in truth he ever spoke plainly.
I nodded again.
“Your letter, this reminiscing…I have not always been as I am, you know that. I am not blind to what you…want? Or perhaps what you once wanted, before everything was broken? But we are not as we were, and I do not understand what you seek. An anchor, to keep you upon this shore?”
“Nay, not an anchor,” I protested swiftly.
“Then what? I am here, now. You are here. Tell me what you want of me. And know that I have so little to give.” Estarfin looked uncomfortable as he spoke.
Though I had thought so much on the matter, I did not know how to explain it clearly in that moment. “We both have changed so much from those hopeful youths. Neither can we return to the innocence of those days. But we can start now, and make a better ending together, rather than apart, I deem? I loved who you were. You know that now. But still some of the old ‘you remains. I care. That cannot be broken. I want us to be the friends we should have been.”
“I thought we were friends?” he interrupted.
“We are!” I laughed almost nervously at that. “But I want we two old elves of Thargellion to have a second chance. To stand together and mayhap learn to enjoy life and laugh, and who knows what healing may happen? You say you have little to give. I deem it not so. We are both wrecks of what we should have been, aye? But we can still learn. We can still change things.”
Estarfin nodded, looking a little more comfortable.
I gave a sigh of relief that, although I had not said quite all, I seemed to have answered some of his questions.
“May I?” I reached out a hand.
“Hmm?”
I lay my hand on his arm, on the vambrace. “Thank you. For still being brave, and not running away from the flame haired terror. That’s what they used to call me as a child you know?”
He looked down at my hand a moment, then frowned.
“What?”
“I have no fear of you…..why would I run?”
“You know my temper.” I smiled at him, recalling a few of our ‘confrontations’. Nay, neither of us feared the other. “I hope none fear me save our enemies.”
There was a slight grin on Estarfin’s face. “I do remember the pain of your displeasure.”
I made a face at him, also remembering our training session of some years ago. “For that I apologise,” I bowed my head.
“Were I mortal, I would still have scars,” his mood was certainly lighter.
“Then it is well that you are not!"
There was a moment of shared memory, (b) of his attempt to improve my fighting skills ending with him on the ground. I was not proud of that.
“ I should also thank you, I think. If you believe it, I almost feared this meeting.” he stated.
“Feared?” I was a touch surprised.
Shrugging slightly, he explained. “I have been thinking on that letter for years. Years!”
I removed my hand. It was enough for now. “We are grown too old for games, Estarfin. Know that I will never ask of you that which you cannot give. I am bound to you, but I do not ask that you are bound to me. Come now, we have stood long enough in one space.”
“We have given the guards time enough for idle gossip, and those others,” he indicated those round the campfire.
We were in agreement.
A reckoning? Did Estarfin have his answer? Did I not have much of what I wanted from that meeting? We had some form of understanding. We were together. Mayhap we would have time, this time…….
“Do you need to return to Imladris straight away?” I asked as we walked to the horses.
He shook his head.
“Then ride with me awhile?”
a)'Feasting Interrupted' by Estarfin
