(After Another Day at the Beach | The Laurelin Archives by Parnard.)
I was floating among the stars in the dark blue water.
I was dancing in the splashing white foam at the edge of the beach.
Over the sound of breaking waves, I could hear the distant sound of gulls, as they followed a fishing boat back into harbour, eager to share in the mariner’s harvest.
There was the faint scent of warmed wood sage from the nearby dune, as I found myself stepping out from dream to reality.
‘Wake up, it is late morning,’ I told myself. Yet something was holding me in the land of dreams.
I slowly stretched out the fingers of my free hand, digging them into the dry sand and relishing the sensation.
I moved my legs carefully, stretching them too, feeling the weight of a fine blanket partially covering them, and then...my other hand was seemingly entwined in hair nigh as coarse as sea grass. My eyes fluttered open.
‘Arimeldo?’ (Dearest) I uttered in thought.
I did not remember falling asleep so, but we had been speaking lightly of hair and of what it may collect. I smiled with some satisfaction that it seemed we had managed to ‘collect’ a little of each other's, for a copper coloured tress was in his hand. Was not hair one of the most beautiful of attributes. Were we not drawn to that which held exceptional loveliness? I smiled contentedly. That coarse, black mane of his might not be to everyone’s taste, but to me it was beautiful, willfully determined to follow its own course, just like him.
And I felt…oh how to put that into any form that made sense. I had thought I knew where I was, what I wanted…yet it had ever been out of reach..but now….I trembled involuntarily with joy and he moved a little, enough to reach out and pull the blanket up over me before sighing and sleeping again.
No assumption on his part, just an acknowledgment I had shivered and an issue he would resolve.
His was a noble spirit. Had I not seen that in him from the start? But oddly I had only just realised how much I wanted it.
Our lores and customs were one matter, but this was not about lore. It was not about propriety or tradition. It was about respect. It was about honouring each other. And for my part it was about him finding happiness. Here we lay, but a short distance apart, we still had our hands in each other’s hair, yet no more. Not yet.
Had he not asked me much earlier that morn “You think I am too reserved? Parnard had no thought for propriety. Was I wrong to act as I did?”
Such words overcame me, that he wanted to be sure he was acting appropriately. I had wanted to reassure him his actions, however he wished to proceed, always justified my trust in him.
Parnard was of the Sylvan Kindred, and by nature less reserved, seeing all of life as something to dive into, I considered. And that was good. We were of the Second Kindred, less impulsive for the most part, more ordered, more reserved though no though less lovers of life. We were also much older. We had both seen and experienced things Parnard had thankfully not. But did not Noldor blood also equate with fire and passion for many? It could do for me. I suspected it did so for him.
‘Artanaro’..I had thought…’Noble Flame’. He had always seemed so to me. And did I not hold that name in my heart for him, that one day, perhaps, I could tell him? But it was a name of presumption I had not the right to give, even with growing understanding. And there was this, had he not spoken to me recently saying ‘I am Estarfin; no more, no less’. There was nothing at all wrong with the name he had. I wondered at his wish to limit me, but concluded, rightly or wrongly, it was about addressing him with titles he thought unearned? It stood not easy with me to refrain from calling him such, but I would do as he asked. Perhaps it would not be too many years before I could offer that other name to him? Even so…and only if he wished…under the right circumstances….one day...perhaps?
I had answered him concerning reservation, “When I walked from the sea, knowing not that I was more concealed by my hair than my dress, you looked away. You did not need to for my sake, but it was a noble action?”
He had looked directly, questioningly, in my eyes then.
“You would not, did not take advantage of my predicament. You saw me, not my form, but what I desired, and that not to feel a fool. There is nothing unseemly with looking upon one who wishes it. You treated me with respect. You are you. If you act in accordance with your nature, I shall never be disappointed.”
Estarfin had nodded, and seemed glad to me that he had not misread the situation.
I loved him for that. For the understanding, and the blankets and all else he had brought from under Filignil’s nose, to aid me.
He had smiled fondly at Parnard. “He did not seem to be of much help to you?”
I had chuckled. “He is young of heart and spirit. He means well, but I took him rather by surprise. I do not often run to him and hide behind his back.”
Estarfin raised a brow, but knew, I believed, I was not in any way distressed by Parnard.
“As for you seeing me so, you know I was not concerned over that save I would not offend you? But I would rather we walk this path together, at whatever pace you wish, and learn along the way?”
So close…..but ever respectful. How could I fault him?
I did not really want to wake up from that happy sleep. And yet there was more to be done as the day called. We would not long be at the coast, but would needs must return to Numenstaya and our plans for crafting. I would make the most of this time. Parnard must have seen me awaken and Estarfin stirring, as he called from the large rock he was fishing from, and waved.
Estarfin had moved almost as I had, looking at the tress of hair he yet held, and smiling a little as he let it loose. “So what is it now, Danel. We are fishing?”
I tried to carefully disentangle my fingers from his hair without tugging at it, as I wondered if the sea longing was yet on him in any force.
“I shall change into more appropriate clothing, then perhaps we should walk inland? “ I suggested.
He looked at me questioningly, then at Parnard standing on the rock, with his line cast and a new wineskin at his feet.
“There are some things we can still learn from our Wood Elf friend, lady. Let us try fishing, lest it be said the Noldor cannot fish or that the younger are in truth the wiser.”
I laughed, “But you like not fishing, neither do you have the patience for it.”
He shrugged, and a small part of me, the fiery part, wished for just a little less restraint.
