By the time Parnard decided he had enough of rock diving, the stars were fading, and the skies above the sea were turning pallid with the whitening dawn. He swam back to where he had left Danel and Estarfin floating in the shallower waters, not really swimming at all. The three elves, desirous of rest, waded out of the surf to dry themselves on the beach. Estarfin moved a short distance away and sat on a nearby rock, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the shimmering waters.
“That was good, was it not?” said Parnard, a little breathless, admiring the conch shell he had scooped out of the water. It glowed coral pink in the new day’s sunlight, almost as pink as his sunburnt skin.
“Parnard,” Danel whispered in his ear, blushing hotly, “have you a cloak?”
“A cloak? No, lady, it is far too hot for a cloak.”
“Yes…but my dress is transparent now. You are my cloak until it dries.”
“Oh? Is that why you cower behind me?” he said, and bursting into laughter turned around to look. “I see,” he said as he gazed upon her charms, his curiosity more than satisfied. Danel swatted him lightly on the shoulder and he faced towards the sea again, saying wryly, “I hope I do not block the air and sun too much, lady, else it will take even longer for your dress to reappear.”
“Nay. I am drying off from your sudden heat,” she told him. “I shall be more prudent next time.”
Parnard laughed anew at this remark, and despite the lady’s discomfiture, or perhaps because of it, he decided that it was the best day ever that he could remember in a long while, and grinning to himself, he took up his wineskin and had a celebratory draught, then twisted around to hand Danel the wineskin, laughing again at her fresh embarrassment.
As the sun made its slow ascent, Parnard noted how every now and again Estarfin would furtively glance in their direction, and then quickly look away, making some inane observation about a distant ship’s sails, their color, or the number of them. Parnard thought he must want something, and motioned encouragingly for Danel to take the wineskin over to him. Instead she made a muffled sort of sound in her throat, and made no indication that she was going to move from her place of concealment; so Parnard held up the wineskin, and shaking it temptingly, asked Estarfin if he cared for more wine.
“No, thank you. Not after swimming,” said Estarfin as he stared determinedly at the sea. “That is the rule, is it not?”
“You mean no swimming after wine and food, as it makes one heavy,” Parnard corrected.
“No, no, after swimming,” said Estarfin. “I am sure of it.”
Shrugging, Parnard put down the wineskin and taking up the conch again blew into it. A quantity of water and sand flew out, then it emitted a low groaning sound, like a large creature that had been stabbed in the bowels.
“Not such a sweet sound,” said Danel.
“That is a strange sound,” said Estarfin.
“It is pretty to hold and look at, if the sound is strange and not so sweet,” Parnard agreed, glancing over his shoulder to see what Danel was doing. She had crawled away and was rolling in sand so that it stuck all over her skin and clothing. He burst into loud laughter.
“Don’t just laugh, Parnard,” she fretted.
“What do you want me to do, pour water on you? You look like a sand crab, ha ha ha!”
“It is said that wood elves are good in a crisis. You are not showing that quality,” she complained.
“Whoever said that? Not a wood elf. Cousin, you must rinse off the sand,” he said, and attempted to pull her to her feet. “Come, come, little crab, into the water I will roll you…”
“White wine,” Estarfin suddenly declared. “That is what is needed after swimming. Not red, white. I will fetch some swiftly.”
“Now?” said Parnard in surprise.
Estarfin rose to his feet. “It cannot be delayed. And robes, for it is getting cold, is it not?”
“Oh, no, Estarfin friend, it is very warm indeed. And it will only get warmer as the sun rises. I know how the sun is,” Parnard said with a wink.
“Blankets. For sitting on. We need blankets.”
“Hmm…that would be good. Go, then, and fetch blankets and white wine.” Parnard watched Estarfin hasten away, thinking to himself that he had never seen him run so fast.
“I think I am dry now,” declared Danel after some time had passed. Parnard began to industriously brush grains of sand from her bodice. She slapped his hand away. Undaunted, he lifted the hem of her skirt to give it a little shake. “Parnard…” she warned.
“You are covered in sand. Filignil will not be pleased, oh no...”
“You will be covered in bruises! One does not touch a lady of the Noldor so, and not meet with a fitting reward.”
Parnard immediately released hold of her filmy skirt and bowed deeply, saying, “I meant no disrespect, lady. Pardon me for any untowardness or impoliteness.”
“The fault is my own. I should have brought a cloak.”
“You Noldor are cold-natured to need blankets, robes, and cloaks for the summertime,” he jested in spite of himself, trying to hide his laughter from his voice.
“We are not cold-natured, neither is it cold.”
“Ah, here approaches Estarfin,” said Parnard, glad for the distraction. “At last you have returned. Did you find everything you were wishing to find?”
Estarfin nodded and placed his bundle on the beach. “Filignil found some fine blankets for us to use.”
Parnard took up the blankets and arranged them in a line, smoothing each out by using the wind to blow them flat, and placed small rocks on each corner. Then he threw himself down with a contented sigh. The other two elves joined him on the blankets, sitting fairly close together. Danel modestly wrapped one corner of a blanket around her.
Estarfin finally remembered the wine. “White wine? After swimming.”
“Why not,” drawled Parnard lazily. “This sun! It is so bright.”
The elves sat a long time in idle conversation, passing the wineskin from hand to hand.
“We call that swimming wine,” said Estarfin.
Parnard repeated this phrase to himself several times before saying, “Swimming in wine, more like it. Ha ha ha ha!”
“Sticky? Would it not stick in one’s hair?” asked Danel.
To which Estarfin replied: “Is wine sticky? I would not call it that usually."
“I have heard tales of Dwarves soaking their beards in beer,” said Parnard. This statement passing without comment, he opened one eye, and noticed a certain gleam in Danel’s eyes as Estarfin toyed with a lock of her copper-red hair.
“I would be concerned all manner of things would become attached to my hair,” said Danel.
“If your hair was sticky, you would find many leaves in it. I find many leaves in my hair, and it is not sticky,” admitted Estarfin.
Parnard laughed softly. What ridiculous nonsense were these Noldor talking about now! Then he dozed off, too drowsy from sun and wine to wonder long about it.
