When Danel returned with the wine glasses, and spread a white cloth upon the ground, Parnard hesitated for a moment as he waited for the lady to sit first.
“Are you going to stand there all night holding that bottle?” said Estarfin. Parnard immediately pulled the cork out with his teeth, and poured out wine as quickly as he could.
Danel raised her glass. “To old friends, and new times!” she declared, and the elves lifted their glasses high, and drank deeply.
“It does smell of the sea air,” Parnard said, agreeing with the others, having never smelled the sea air in his life, and exclaimed, “I think it most light and fruity, it is a young simple wine, very impudent.”
Estarfin said nothing. Shrugging his shoulders, Parnard retrieved his eating knife from the inside of his boot (he had sewn a small thong therein to keep his trusty knife secured) and began spearing pieces of meat and cheese on it. Not forgetting old custom, he passed the knife to his left, to Estarfin. Instead of eating the food from the knife, as expected, Estarfin cut a few bits from it to his plate, and returned the knife to the platter. Shrugging again, Parnard whisked the knife back and began munching food, making little joyful murmuring sounds of delight at its deliciousness, and beaming sunny smiles at Danel and Estarfin each in turn.
“Friend Estarfin, I thank you for bringing such delicious and different wine, and for the cheese, and the ham. All very excellent stuff!” said Parnard, between bites and sips.
Estarfin nodded. “Indeed, it is good to be back here again, for a little while, at least.”
“I hope you are not missed in the Valley? I recall there was a certain lady who was quite fond of you. What was her name? Oh yes, Ruineth. The lady that smote me: the only one! Ha ha! But I did have wine poured on my head, another time. Oh! and once Nirhen pushed me and scratched me with her nails.”
“You are lucky she chose to use only her nails to scratch you,” said Estarfin.
“I know it,” said Parnard. “She detested me. But I suppose we Wood-Elves must seem a pretty poor and contemptible lot.” He still smiled.
“We were swift in judgment.” Estarfin stood up and stretched. “Perhaps it was unfair.”
Parnard studied Estarfin and said, “I know nothing of fairness. The strong must make up for the weak. That is the way of things, is it not? Remember icy Vindurhal?”
“Clearly,” said Estarfin, and seeing that there was no more wine, put the empty bottle back down.
“I shall bring more wine,” Danel offered, and hurried away to fetch some.
"I thought you were going to kill me,” Parnard said, and burst into wild screechy laughter. “You lifted me near out of my boots. I thought you were going to throw me off the mountain."
“I was commanded to keep you safe, you were in no danger from me,” Estarfin replied.
Parnard laughed. “Is that the way of things? I see. Well, everything worked out in the end, did it not? So it was very effective. ‘Clearly,’ as you say.”
“Did you not wonder why I was so insistent that you kept up in the goblin tunnels?”
“Er…” said Parnard, thinking back to that night in the Hithaeglir. “I know I am a slow walker, I know it! - but when my blood is up, I can foot it featly! My blood was not roused, that is all. It was a dark and curious place. Full of very bad smells, and I wondered what sort of place it was. I needed to get my bearings. It was close and very smelly.”
Estarfin ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath to calm himself.
Blithely Parnard continued, “I had never been inside a goblin cave before! It was a new adventure for me, ha ha! I was turned around, pushed, pulled, nipped, tripped, shoved -”
“You understand how dangerous it was? How Daegond, Nirhen and I killed many goblins that would have happily finished you off? How we had to keep you from blundering into more filth?” Estarfin snapped.
“Blundering! I do not go about ‘blundering’ into places,” said Parnard, very surprised and a little offended. “That is not how I remember it at all!”
“Perhaps it is not as clear as you think, then,” retorted Estarfin.
Parnard did not like how the conversation was turning: it seemed to him that Estarfin’s temper was rising like the evil East wind. Very testy proud folk, these Noldor, he thought, rather Dwarvish in how they like to remind others of past favors, and pick quarrels over slights; but I never forget a good turn myself.
“Oh! I know what it is,” he cried, speaking to his own thoughts, and jumping to his feet he made a low sweeping bow before Estarfin. “I never properly thanked you! Thank you, Estarfin, for protecting a poor Wood-Elf from the goblin filth,” he said, in his most contrite manner. Then he bowed again, and again, and thinking once more could not hurt, he bowed one more time, for good measure.
Estarfin seemed mollified by his humility, as Parnard saw his hard features soften a little, and believing that perfect amicability was again restored to the little party, the wood-elf again smiled all around, very pleased with himself for his masterful handling of the warrior's sour mood. Danel asked me to be kind to Estarfin, so that is exactly what I shall be. I shall heap kindness on this grumpy Noldo until he is crushed by it.
“I simply wanted you to understand,” said Estarfin, “we were trying to keep you safe, despite your best efforts to the contrary. Veryacano could have stripped me of my rank easily enough, for I failed his command to keep you unharmed.”
“Mmm, I see,” said Parnard, nodding. “That this rankled in your breast so, all this time: you should have told me sooner.” He smiled even wider. “Well! There is one thing I can do better than a Noldo, and that is drink wine.”
“We shall see,” said Estarfin, just as Danel returned to them carrying several bottles.
“Estarfin is in a fey mood,” he whispered to Danel quickly, when Estarfin’s attention was diverted by the kindling stars, and he saw a slight nod of her head. Taking their glasses over to a flower-covered bridge, the three elves watched the star fires blaze forth, and Parnard thrust a finger up at the sky, crying, “There is the Silver Bear! No! It is not the Silver Bear, but the Charioteer high above, holding his pretty she-goat and her two shining kids.”
“The Charioteer?” asked Estarfin. “We call it Annaríma.”
“Oh,” said Parnard, placidly picking a flower and putting it behind his ear. “Well, call it what you like, but to my people, it is the Charioteer. Do you see the harness thing, the chains or straps or whatever it is that part of the chariot is called?”
“What do you call Soronúmë? That one, next to the Sword?” asked Estarfin.
Parnard scanned the skies until he picked out a constellation he knew. “That one we call the Crane.”
‘And the Valacirya?”
“That one we call the Big Sickle. I suppose you think it very vulgar to call it that,” said Parnard.
“Not at all,” said Estarfin, his eyes fixed on the stars with wonder. His cares forgotten, it was as if the weight of the ages had fallen away, and he was new-born beside the gentle waters of Lake Cuivienen, but Parnard did not notice this. All three elves gazed up into the velvet black heavens dotted as if with diamonds floating in a dark sea, and Danel evoking the name of the star-kindler, bid them hold their glasses high again, and sang praises to Tintallë.
