Last night, Estarfin’s conversation, such little conversation the warrior offered, was full of dark tidings. He spoke of how the roads are getting worse and soon no one will be able to travel at all, and then he hinted at ‘utter devastation,' all the while smiling strangely to himself as he sipped his wine. These Noldor are strange folk, but they are also very crafty, so there must be something good in it, Parnard thought at the time, for in Danel’s house the Dorwinion red flowed as fast as the Baranduin, and he had helped himself to five flagons full by then.
He was still musing about Estarfin's news the next evening as he lay in the tall reeds, trying to shake off the old miserable feeling that he was not where he was supposed to be, reminding himself once again that he had nowhere in particular to go, and nothing to do, when the light footsteps of Danel approached.
"I would hear your tales, if and when you wish to tell them," she said softly.
"You shall hear them, Lady! But for now I shall say that I am alive and well, and overcame all adversities,"’ and Parnard laughed as he said it, but his face was uncommonly serious. "Oftentimes, things do not turn out to plan; I have found it so in life, all throughout my life, in fact," he admitted.
"Our past time in Imladris seems part of a great haze," observed Danel.
"Not always to me," said Parnard, and asked suddenly, "Did you know Brasseniel’s father is the Captain of the King’s Guard? No? Well, do you remember those Wood-Elves that traveled to Imladris, looking for their lost kin in the Hithaeglir?"
Danel nodded. She recalled them well.
"They got to tale-telling and blabbering one night around the fire, and - " Parnard frowned and took a deep shuddering breath. "Forgive me; I shall try to bear up as best I might." Danel laid a reassuring hand on his arm.
"One of them said that all the recruits in the King’s Guard talk about the time an elf - a young foolish elf - set the feast hall on fire during the midsummer’s eve feasting - and that elf’s name is Parnard! Now, I own that I did play a very small part in the events of that awful night….but it was really the fault of that accursed fruit bowl!" he snapped, feeling the old anger rise up.
He did not tell Danel of the enduring twenty-four stanza song that the Wood-elf recruit soldiers sing during their marching drills, which begins,
Well you can have your Sindar grey
And you can have your Noldor blue
There's a better breed of fighting elf
That I will introduce to you.
His uniform is far different
Than any you have seen,
The Captain calls him ‘Firebug’
And beats him black and green.
"Just as soon as I returned to Greenwood, I went to see Brasseniel’s father, to broach the topic of marriage. But after I introduced myself, the Captain got to humming and pondering, "Parnard? Where have I heard that name before? I know I have heard of that name before.’ And then he sat there staring very hard at me before telling me to come back the next day. When I came back, at the appointed hour - I was very sure to be punctual, you see -"
"You were always an especially punctual elf," Danel said.
"I try to be, I try to be," sighed Parnard. “I knocked on the door, and was shown in, and stood before him, and he said, ‘Parnard son of Teludar, I know of you, but my daughter has a different idea; perhaps she knows you better. It seems that you have quite charmed her, and she is smitten, but our borders are not sufficiently secured for your sentiments to be declared and made known to all; thus it is my will that Brasseniel should wait until after the war is over to marry.’”
"To my mind, his words make sense. Few of our folk choose to wed with such danger threatening," considered Danel.
Irritated, Parnard blurted out, "If the Captain wants more elves to fight for our homeland, this is not the way to go about it."
Danel chuckled with understanding. "I do agree there should be more of us, and there is only one way to go about it -"
"Not that I want any children of mine to take up the sword, mind you!" Parnard added, fiercely blushing.
"I am happy for you that your suit has not been completely naysayed," murmured Danel, and walked a little closer to the water’s edge.
"I suppose it was not, not completely. There is still hope, right? After the war ends, whenever that is," said Parnard, his voice trailing off wistfully. To his sorrow he found himself thinking again of Estarfin’s dour words, and felt his hope fading away and vanishing in smoke.
"The view in the water always seems more beautiful to me from here," Danel said, lowering her gaze, and then she told him the secrets of her heart, after first making him swear to not to tell anyone, not even Sogadan.
Parnard was stunned; what she revealed to him was as a flash of lightning breaking the darkness, and such was the state of mind of the two elves, that not another word was spoken; their hearts were full, far too full for words, and yet there was an understanding in the sad interchange of looks, which cheered him.
