Parnard Teludarion is a wood elf from the Greenwood. Little more than a child in his six hundred and fifty years compared to we two First Age Noldor, yet he is our mutual friend and ally. What he lacks in experience, he makes up for with curiosity, wit and eloquence. Though seemingly trained in the ways of combat I am uncertain if it is according to his people’s way, as he eschews a bow and knife (save for eating) and instead uses a longsword, Steel-Thorn, made for him by Estarfin. A Noldorin weapon forged by a Noldo for a Wood elf! That alone sets him apart from his long-knives and bow wielding brethren in the Woodland Realm.
No ‘spirit of fire’ he, yet he is no coward, and has saved our lives when he owed us naught. Do not many of his folk bear grievance against our kind for, as they perceive it, bringing war to their lands? Yet in some ways it seems he is more at peace with us than in Felegoth. In truth we are both most fond of him, and welcome his company. How else could it be that he managed to injure Estarfin with his words? Is it not so that we can only be injured thus by one we care for?
We never asked him to come *fight* alongside us, yet he has done…and did so again.
~ ~ ~
We three were standing on the dais in the nigh empty Great Hall, that was now become Estarfin’s domain. The conversation of the evening had, thus far, appeared to be one point of confusion after another. Now I need focus on a matter that should brook no misunderstanding.
“Oh! We should tell Estarfin about the Halfling", Parnard said excitedly, though he was then lounging against a wall with his arms lightly folded.
“There is a Halfling here too?” After the confusion of the early evening, I think Estarfin would put little beyond Parnard and I. He looked around the hall almost as if he expected one to dance out from somewhere.
I shook my head. There was no Halfling in the place.
“And we shall not be drinking wine this night. I can tell you that.” Parnard smiled broadly, and looked to me with some amusement.
I flushed just a little. I was still annoyed with myself for my behaviour the previous day. “You are not restricted, Parnard. But I shall not partake. The drinking party is still in my mind.”
I was still breathing a sigh of relief that Parnard hadn’t heard clearly what I said about Estarfin almost bearing a brand reading ‘kinslayer’ on his forehead, when I had spoken of his choice of solitude during much of the Second Age.
Parnard smiled to himself. “Go on Danel. Tell him what was said about the castle.”
Estarfin looked interested. “A drinking party at a castle?”
‘No, no no,’ I thought. Enough confusion for one night. So I began in the clearest way I could.
“No halfling, no drinking party; forget the salamanders and our enemy of old. While you were at the coast, Estarfin, Parnard and I rode back to Yondershire. We rode nigh the place we encountered the brigands, and then a short way closer to the village. I was hoping to reassure the Halflings they had naught to fear from us.”
Parnard nodded again, and appeared very much at ease. “That’s right, we reached that field with the stone wall around it.”
“Sometimes elves from the Havens patrol that way.” I continued, “I did not want the Shire–folk running and hiding from them, even though I suspect those Elves keep a distance. I did not want Halflings running from Elves at all. And then we met a Halfling on the path. One of their shirriffs, he said. His name was Tolbold Tatersfield.”
Estarfin was listening, looking very much at ease himself. “Shirriff?” he inquired.
“Assistant Deputy,” Parnard corrected. “Like one of their guards. In charge, but not really.”
“Thank you, Parnard.” I nodded at the ever helpful Woodelf. “But Master Tatersfield was petrified. Of us!”
Parnard grinned eagerly and crossed his arms the other way.
“It seems the village had cleared up the remains of the encounter with the Brigands. And they buried most out of fear of attracting wolves to Tighfield. But mostly they were scared.” I started to explain.
“He should not have been so affrighted.” Parnard stated, standing straight and running a hand lovingly over his new green hauberk to remove any possible dust “He did have several archers hidden in the bushes, all pointing arrows at me. Perhaps he thought they would not be enough to take me down?”
I looked at Parnard, whose expression rather than actions suggested he would burst if he could not say his piece to Estarfin soon. I knew he was eager to reveal what Master Tatersfield had told us.
“Go on then, if you must,” I said reluctantly to him. “Have your say. Tell Estarfin why they were afraid.” Had I not known from the moment Master Tatersfield had said ‘demon’ that Parnard found it amusing? Though he and I had both firmly rebuffed any such notion. I suspected Estarfin would find it less than funny.
“They were affrighted of you, friend Estarfin. They think you are a demon.” Parnard laughed at the absurdity, and waited on Estarfin’s reaction.
I reacted silently. I closed my eyes as I felt the blow land. He had not known it at the time, but Estarfin's actions had saved the Halflings from much trouble. Demon? Nay, save to Men. I tried to explain.
“It seems the village have been talking of a demon in black, who some thought had several arms, so swift was he with a sword. So purposefully did he hew through the Brigands.”
And finally Estarfin frowned.
“They knew no better. They do now. Parnard explained that none of us are demons.”
Estarfin nodded, though his shadowed eyes betrayed a little of what he felt.
“Good. They have nothing to fear from us."
“That is also what I told him,” Parnard closed the distance from Estarfin and I, and stood just an arm's reach away.
“This Tolbold understood. He was pleased we removed the brigands. He said we had done his village a favour.” I added. I could still feel the sting of the accusation from Estarfin, though he looked to the wooden floor in thought.
“A demon though. That is what they said?” Estarfin asked softly.
“Well it was dark,” Parnard began. “And you were wearing all black and on Gilastor, and they didn’t know what to make of you. You must overlook it, friend Estarfin.”
But as I suspected, Estarfin seemed wounded by the accusation from folk he would only have defended. “Do they not sometimes wear black? It is not so strange.”
“Hmm, I do not know if they do or not. Perhaps they do not. They are a funny folk.” Parnard replied, looking with a little concern at his friend.
“Parnard also rides a black horse,” I knew that would not help as soon as I uttered the words.
“Did they also think it was a demon then?” came Estarfin’s swift reply.
“I think not. What I do believe is that one or two of them witnessed the fight. All the talk of speed and swords….they saw us fight the men. They saw you slay the majority. None of them could have done so, neither could any single man they had ever seen. Nor even most of the Falathrim Elves. They could not know what a Warrior of Thargelion would be capable of.”
Parnard drew closer still, his usual kindness coming to the fore. His quick mind seeking for an explanation that would make sense of the situation.
“I don’t think they believed Swanhoof to be a demon. But you upon Gilastor, well that may have been another matter. Maybe they thought you both a demon? “ Parnard chuckled, knowing Estarfin upon his warhorse would cause fear to many. “Drink may also explain it? They strike me as folk fond of food and ale.”
Estarfin nodded.
“I have robes of other colours,” he said in a gentler tone.
That caught me like a knife in the chest. Here we were, telling him the Halflings thought him a demon, and he was thinking how to lessen their fear. He had not liked it when the Halflings recoiled from us as we passed through Stock, as I recalled.
“They know not to fear you now,” I ventured again. “Though they are still afraid of the Brigands. Of the Men.”
“Do they believe Men are also demons?”
I shook my head at him, wishing I could lay a hand upon his arm to reassure him all was well, and softly said. “No. Only you. And that because those who watched, had never seen anything quite like what you did. I would not have expected them to.” I looked him in the eyes. “Now they fear you not, rather respect you. Though wary of all strangers, they see you as a friend to them. They had a problem with the brigands in that place, and still have with those on the hill.”
“The castle pile on the hill,” Parnard pointed out.
And that seemed sufficient. Estarfin moved on.
“That does not surprise me. We remarked upon the lack of care the Halflings show for their borders. Do you remember?” he spoke to me.
Indeed I did remember, both of us noting with concern the lack of any fortification or organised guards in the Shire. Oh, their ‘Bounders’ seemed brave enough folk, but both Estarfin and I thought such a beautiful land needed better planned protection from would be usurpers. Elven patrols in that area were rare, and I would not mention that the Dunedain kept watchful guard.
“They love their land, but know not how to protect it,” I said.
“They are not really a martial people, it would seem,” Parnard added, watching Estarfin closely.
“They lead a simple life. But I had the impression Master Tatersfield hopes..well…that we may rid them of the threat from the ruined castle?”
Estarfin nodded slowly. Parnard brushed down his hauberk again.
“Parnard questioned the Halfling for details. He was mostly interested in stolen food, and threats with knives...” I continued.
“And stolen laundry,” Parnard reminded me. He shook his head at the notion of any full grown man stealing a Halfling’s clothes.
“Why in Arda Men steal Halfling’s laundry is beyond me,” I commented.
“Wickedness, for the sake of it,” Estarfin added, perceptively.
“Or sell it?” Parnard suggested.
“I think Estarfin has the right of it.” I said. “All they do is to shame and belittle the Halflings. To take from them what they value, just because they can.”
“Little better than Yrch,” Estarfin almost spat out. His eyes were as flickering flames again, as he planned ahead. “Did he mention the location of this castle?”
“I cannot imagine sitting down at supper, and having a knife held to my throat all of a sudden, and my food whisked away.” Parnard lamented, shaking his head woefully at me. ‘Suppertime bandits’ he had called the brigands.
“We may make light of the situation, because none dare treat us so.” I replied.
“It’s on the hill, near Tighfield. You can see it from the village,” Parnard replied to Estarfin, nodding to the north east.
Estarfin turned and looked to the window. “Dawn is only a couple of hours off. They will be stirring then” He paused a moment considering the situation further. “Gilastor is tired from my journey from Mithlond, but he can make it. I will get my sword. How many?”
“The Halfling said there may be up to sixty. “ said Parnard.
Estarfin blinked a moment then headed for the door, doubtlessly to don black armour of some sort, and to fully arm himself.
“Estarfin…if you are planning on leaving now..can you give me a few moments to arm myself that I come with you...?” I called after him.
In turn Parnard glanced down at his spotless green hauberk. “It is too fine to besmirch with blood, but I shall do it. “ He was coming too.
Estarfin nodded to us both.
