Even the fittest of elves was likely to be just a little winded by the time they reached Lord Cirdan’s Halls. The design of Mithlond, against the cliff face, was a series of levels, such as favoured by many an elven architect. Each could be more easily defended by attack from the land or the sea. I thought then these Havens had never been taken. The ones before, at the mouth of the Sirion, were taken by our own. Estarfin among them.
And I sighed most deeply. I could not condone what had occurred, but I did understand. And the thought came to me ‘Is he turning from it all? Is he finally trying to walk away from his past?. It just seemed to me that, in those most recent of days, he was changing? Not that I would turn from him if he did not.
But pondering had to wait. We three were at the huge oaken doors to the Halls, and addressed by the guards. The usual, who were we, where were we from, what did we seek? Though they recognised Hingalas of course.
We were ushered into the vestibule without further ado, and then asked to wait, among the several scribes and clerks who were making stately progress among the cabinets and bookcases.
I remembered it from my time there. One scribe nodded to me, Idherion I recalled, with his sleek ash brown hair and eyes of grey-blue-green.
“Lady Danel. Welcome back.”
It was promising.
As he walked away down a corridor that I knew led to the auditorium, the last rays of the sun lit his path, that he was walking out of the world we knew and into a far distant land of gold lit hills. White clouds bobbed above the hill tops, and a silver stream wound its way down hill towards me that I stepped back involuntarily.
“Oh!”
Parnard looked at me.”Are you alright, Cousin?”
I nodded, and shook myself. Enough with these daydreams. I had a task to focus on, and that one dear to my heart.
Parnard dusted himself off, brushed back his hair and straightened his clothing. I took a deep breath, ‘I will not fail you, Estarfin,’ and Hingalas strode over to a side door calling “Lord Cirdan, It’s Hingalas and friends.”
There was no reply as we all walked into the circular, wood paneled room.
“He must be away again…,” Hingalas began, then halted as we all saw a very tall, silver haired figure turn towards us. He was standing beside a high chest with what appeared to be a ledger book in his hands,
By his feet sat an enormous, fluffy grey cat.
I was reminded of something I had partly heard while at the dock. Hingalas had said to Parnard, ‘Once a Lord, always a Lord, well it was about cats, but still’. And I had replied ‘Once a cat, always a cat?’ Hingalas had nodded. Foresight? I doubted it. But this was certainly a Cat among cats.
“Excuse me, Lord Cirdan?” I said.
Parnard bowed low, seeming at a loss for words. His eyes were fixed on Cirdan’s face. Hingalas helped himself to some leftover pork on a plate on a side table, then bowed low. I made a curtsy.
The blue and silver robed figure turned to us. Though his features bore the signs of considerable age, he smiled a ‘welcome’, his eyes twinkled like the stars. He put aside the ledger.
“Well met all. Ah, Hingalas, you have come to remind me? This is your rope day, friend.”
“It is ready and hung, Lord, truly a marvel. I will oil it every day, as you advised.”
I couldn’t help but notice the fondness with which one of the noblest of the Sindar looked upon the ropemaker. It warmed my heart.
“Oil it every day?” Parnard muttered to me.
“I shall be at the docks before Late Watch, Hingalas,” Cirdan continued. “I know it is your pride and joy.” His voice was still strong and direct, much as it had been when first I encountered him, with the armies at Fornost.
Hingalas beamed. Then he said, “Where are my manners, Lord. May I introduce my greatest of friends.” He gestured to Parnard and I.
I curtsied again. As I sank to the floor there came a faint music to my ears that I wondered if there was a choir practicing in another part of the Halls. Beautiful it was, the best of voices in perfect harmony. I rose to my feet.
“Lord Cirdan.”
“Ah, Lady Danel. It has been some time.”
Parnard stepped forward, unable to take his eyes from Cirdan’s face below the nose.
The Master of the Havens stroked his chin a few times. “Yes friend, it is a beard. I am rather old.” he said with a hint of a chuckle.
“Oh, you have a beard, Lord,” Parnard uttered. “I am Parnard. Parnard of the Greenwood…uh..”
“Parnard. You are welcome here in Mithlond.” Cirdan stated. Then he chuckled again.”You are observant, and also a long way from home.”
I noticed the cat had headed to Hingalas as if he were well known. Hingalas sat on the floor and began stroking it.
“True, true, all of it. I have wandered far across the land..hither and yon…”
“Well, do not stand on ceremony.” Cirdan spread his hands in an open gesture. “Hingalas here I know how to aid, but what do you two wish of me? An end to wandering hither and yon?”
My vision clouded again, and I saw a far off shore with pale golden sands, and white cliffs beneath green fields and hills. I saw a far off city, shining white marble upon a hill, and a mountain beyond height covered in snow. It called to me, and I swayed a little, struggling to attend to Cirdan’s words.
“Oh no Lord, no…,” Parnard spoke.
“The White Ships fill swiftly,” Cirdan replied. “It will be nigh a year before I can place you on one, if that be your wish?”
I was on the grass in the otherworld, running barefoot that I felt the life of that land surge through me. The wind had caught my hair and dress, that they swept behind me, slowing my progress, yet filling me with laughter. I could see horses grazing, and some sort of golden sheep. Looking up there were songbirds in the clear skies. There was music. There was happiness…..and my parents, riding out to greet me.
They smiled welcome and held out their arms.
There was a small growl, then a yelp as the cat tried to bite Hingalas, who had been playing with it.
I reached out with longing to my parents, but they faded, as did the music. I shook my head to clear it. I was here to help Estarfin, not to dream of Valinor.
I took another step forward. “My Lord, it is not of taking ship soon I would speak.”
“Then how may I be of help? It is long since you have paid me visit, Danel. In what way can I now assist you?”
I hesitated. This Elf was considered the wisest of the Wise in Middle Earth. If he could not give a satisfactory answer to Estarfin, then I knew not who could. But would he help? Kindly, yes, but he was a strong and capable leader who, while ever more open to we Noldor than Thingol had been, had his own people’s needs to look out for.
There was another small yelp from the cat as it bit Hingalas. He pulled his hand away, but seemed used to the situation.
“Cousin, will you not speak,” Parnard urged me.
“I have a boon to ask, Lord Cirdan,” I began. I recalled Estarfin at the hill fort but a few weeks ago, dark of armour, covered in blood…..a demon the Hobbits had thought.
Parnard coughed, no doubt wondering at my reticence.
“Shall I fetch wine, Lord? I saw some in your kitchen?” asked Hingalas.
I bit back the thought and lowered my head. Estarfin was right. It was too much to ask. “Lord, I already know your answer.”
I could feel his keen eyes upon me. Observing, considering.
“I doubt that,” he replied, with a hint of rebuke.
“Two bottles of white?” Hingalas called from the kitchen. “They were next to the pork.”
From the corner of my eye I noticed Parnard more towards the door, almost leaving the room, but seemingly drawn to listen.
“Ask,” said Cirdan. “Silence will get you nowhere, Loremistress, though it tells me you are torn.”
It was worth a try at least, thought I. He was no demon. I knew that. There was care and consideration yet in him, kindness and a gentleness that belayed his strength. There was hope..there was love…
“I seek a boon,” I stated. “An appointment for a friend. ‘He has a ..question to which he seeks answers.’You are considered one of the wisest of our people. It is in my thoughts you may be able to help him? Just a short visit?”
Cirdan held my gaze a few moments more. Then he turned, looking for the wine.
At that point Hingalas returned, carrying a silver tray with four half-filled glasses upon it, alongside a few pieces of pork, some bread and some small green pickles.
He headed to Cirdan. “Wine, my Lord. And a pickle? I know you favour them.”
“Thank you, Hingalas. I would partake in a glass of wine before I reply on this matter.”
“Oh yes, drink and then think, I always say,” Parnard was watching enthusiastically as Hingalas brought the tray over to him.
“You wish me to hear out a friend. Is he a Sindarin loremaster seeking wisdom then?”
The words were rhetorical, I thought. He knew already what type of ner I was asking for. I shook my head.
Parnard had whipped out his knife from his boot, and was busy spearing several items off the tray. He took up two glasses of wine.
Cirdan sipped at his wine, though his eyes were still on me.
“He is a Noldo!”
“Yes Lord.” I looked straight at him.
“Oh, friend Estarfin is certainly that,” added Parnard.
Hingalas offered me the tray, despite the conversation. “Wine, Lady? Pickle? The pork is excellent.”
I smiled briefly at the happy elf, but waved politely that I required nothing.
Parnard was drinking one glass of wine and balancing the other on his head.
“Oh here, cousin. I have wine for you,” he called over to me.
“Bread then?” Hingalas was saying.
Parnard walked closer to me and bent his knee, that the wine on his head was nearer my hand.
“This Estarfin is a warrior, a soldier.” Cirdan stated rather than asked.
My mother’s face was there. Beautiful as ever, her gaze as soft and caring as I recalled from childhood. But she looked aghast. ‘You come alone?’ she said.
I rose to my feet. It was too hard to concentrate.
“Do you have any fish, Lord?” Hingalas was saying.
I reached to my mother, "Do not go.”
Cirdan raised a hand, that all fell silent.
He looked at me.”Do not go?”
Hingalas put the tray on a chair, taking a glass and piece of pork for himself.
“Well I must say this is proving more interesting than the"Merry Fishers” Song and Dance Troupe I had in earlier. But the evening draws on, and I will soon have an envoy from Forlond to entertain. Tell me now, Danel, why your ‘friend’ does not ask me himself? I am thinking he believes I have reason to love him not at all?”
“He says he knows what you will say.” I replied.
“Then why ask?” It was Hingalas. He smiled over as he fed the cat with small pieces of pork.
“Because there is always hope, be it ever so faint?” I spoke firmly. I looked to Cirdan. ”Because I will search any path I can to aid him.”
The Master of the Havens nodded. “I see.” He was silent for a short time, tapping only on the edge of his chair with a finger. “Now I will say this; you are asking for time alone for one you love. That I can grant, whether I love him or no. If this IS about a ship, and I am not convinced that it is, I have not the authority I believe this requires. Osse will nay say it, so I must seek guidance from Lord Ulmo. I cannot predict his answer.
“Apples,” said Hingalas, and headed for the kitchen, returning with three green ones.
“If he truly wishes to speak with me over a matter of..’lore’, then I will make time. But I would urge him to question his own heart first. Oft it is we already hold the answers therein.”
I nodded my thanks. It was all I could ask for. If Estarfin would speak with Cirdan, there was a way, be it laced with caution.
Hingalas put one apple on the tray, and began eating the other. He gestured to Parnard and me.
“Share them among yourselves,” I said.
Parnard took up another, and another glass of wine.
I felt oddly content as I watched. The cat had turned to Hingalas again, and was lying on his side, batting at the elf’s outstretched hand, yet I was away to the distant shore. The confusion at Lord Cirdan’s Halls but the dream.
“Haldil will be following you home soon, Hingalas,” Cirdan was saying. “Though I would be loath to part with him. May it be time you got yourself a cat?”
And the light of gold was all over the room. We were together in that otherland, Cirdan, Hingalas, Parnard and I. There were family and friends about, as a grand reunion.
A large table there was set out under the bright sky, and filled with all sorts of delights of food and drink.
“Come visit us in Tirion, you must see the library” someone was saying to me.
“We must race the wind at Alqualonde.” another said.
I moved through the crowd, searching.
Again I shook myself free, finding it harder each time. The sound of waves upon the beach echoed in my mind.
‘Come home…..come home…’
I turned to Lord Cirdan and made a curtsey. “My heartfelt thanks to you Lord for listening to me, and for your hospitality.
I was searching through the crowds, but many sought to stay my progress, ‘Come eat with us’ ‘Come drink with us’
No.
No. I would find him, or know why he was not there.
There was a sound, as of horns blowing in the distance. As of one blowing into great seashells that echoed the music of the sea. And a darkness fell upon me that nigh drew my life.
