I am not a princess. I never was, despite what Estarfin thought. Treated as a princess, yes, and by my parents. I suspect many a young girl, particularly an only child, was treated as in some way special. It did not help that Prince Caranthir also treated me with esteem, as a cousin. As a reminder. Yes, often as a princess.
But I was not. And never, ever did I think myself above him.
We sat for a short while in silence, each with our own thoughts. Anor rose higher in the sky. It would be a beautiful day.
My thoughts were on Gilastor. I remembered him being unwilling to carry Estarfin back from the castle on the hill, after we had dealt with the first group of brigands. I had thought it unusual, though probably due to tiredness from the trip to Mithlond and back. I had not thought there could be more to it. I believed he was less than ten years of age. But a blink of an eye. Too young to die.
And then I recalled when I first set eyes on him, in the stables at Echad Eregion. A huge war horse. So fitting was he to be Estarfin’s mount. I think I would have known Estarfin was there by his horse alone.
I thought of him on the travels we undertook, never balking at what was asked of him, be it the height and snows of the Hithaeglir, or the humid confines of Mirkwood. Like his rider, he made me feel safe by his presence.
But mostly I could see him galloping over the hill towards the brigands and ruffians threatening Parnard and I as we rode peaceably in Yondershire.
“Ride them down,” Estarfin had asked of him. And he did.
The new mare was so different, fast where Gilastor was strong. But Estarfin must have asked for a swift horse? It would be a change for him, and perhaps take some getting used to. She would become a familiar friend soon enough, I suspected, but for now, I missed Gilastor.
I topped up our glasses with the last of the wine. “Did you find what you were searching for?” I inquired.
He turned to me, his face still etched with tiredness, but his sea-grey eyes bright upon me.
“Yes and no,” he said.
“Can I help in any way,” I asked, knowing the likely answer. He would have asked me already. And it struck me his search may have been to find help for his horse? I could do nothing to bring Gilastor back.
“Yes and no," he said again. "I had hoped that Ladrochan would have a cure, or some secret knowledge. Foolish of course.” He picked up the glass with an inclination of his head.
“Not foolish,” I countered. “You could not know there was no healing for Gilastor in Imladris. It is best to seek out all possibilities.”
“You are right,” Estarfin nodded. “Quite right.”
He seemed to be thinking of something. “All possibilities …” he said.
I thought my words had aided him? I smiled hopefully. “It may have been Ladrochan did have the answer. Had you not sought him you would never have known.”
Estarfin shook his head. “I knew, or at least suspected. Do you remember when he would not carry me?”
“After the fight with the first set of brigands,” I said gently.
“Barahirn knew something also, for he is not unskilled.” Estarfin nodded, then looked away, blinking rapidly.
“I thought him simply overtired. But it wasn’t like him.”
“No, he would have borne me, complaining as he did so if he was simply tired.”
Estarfin noticed his full glass of wine and took it up to take a sip.
I changed the subject, noticing and nodding to a bag of smithing tools Estarfin had laid on the grass a short distance away.
“The tools in Celondim were …uninspiring. I brought my own back with me,” he explained.
He took a few more sips of his wine.
“You are thinking of doing more smithing here?” I indicated the direction of the Great Hall, where a forge had already been set for him.
He nodded.
“I believe that will be a good thing. I have been making sketches for new jewellry designs. I hope I can reestablish my reputation at the coast.”
He nodded again, looking over at my discarded sketch book
I rose to my feet and walked the short distance to the book and brought it back to show him.
“Just two necklaces to start with, though I have in mind arm bands and rings. A new style that emphasizes the flow of the waves. That simplicity in silver, pearl and moonstone used to sell well in Mithlond.”
He was flicking through my illustrations, nodding approval. “For the Falathrim,” he said. Then he looked over at me. “You know many in Mithlond?”
I thought a moment. “Not as many as I used to. A dozen perhaps. Many are gone.”
“Cirdan? He remains still. Is he one of those you know?”
I knew Lord Cirdan a little. I did wonder at Estarfin asking after him though.
“He is accounted the wisest of our kind, is he not?” continued Estarfin.
“I know him well enough to speak with. Not as a close friend but….he is indeed one of the wisest of our kind. He is held to be even wiser than Lord Elrond…and the Lady Galadriel. He is so very old.”
Estarfin nodded to himself. “Indeed,” he said. “He will have seen much.”
“He was born at Cuivienan,” I stated purposefully. “Where do you think I first got my obsession from? Though most think of me as a gem-smith, I also trained as a Mistress of Lore. Some of that was in Mithlond, after Fornost. Have you seen the Library there? It is larger than even the one in Imladris.”
Estarfin shook his head, but said, ‘There are books of Lore?”
“Rooms and rooms.” I was well motivated to explain some of my past to him. “On the day and night of each full moon, we would meet there to discuss and debate our findings, and to ask questions of each other. Lord Cirdan was oft busy, but he came and spoke and listened with us if he were able. There were many visitors from Forlond and Imladris…ah, Lord Cirdan would always help where he could. Even a Feanorian like me.”
Estarfin drank a little more of his wine.”I shall ride with you, when you next visit.”
Even though our conversation had been heading in that direction, I was a little surprised at Estarfin’s words. But I nodded. “As you wish.” I jumped ahead in speculation. “I may possibly be able to get you an audience, if that is your aim?”
“Although there is little enough trade in weapons and armour there. Perhaps some decorative steel instead?” Estarfin’s change of direction to my supposition went almost unnoticed by me at that time.
“There are still a fair number of people here who will not leave. And new travellers arrive almost daily. They look to make their lives comfortable still, and appreciate the arts of us Noldor as well as the Sindar.”
Estarfin nodded at me.
“You said to my question ‘Can I help you,’ both yes and no. What can I do for the ‘yes’ part?”
Oddly, he frowned. “There are answers that I need first, that I did not find in Imlardis.”
I noted his expression which, though in no way angry with me, showed this was a serious matter to him.
“Oh, I am sorry. Just let me know when you want my help. Any time will be fine.”
“Thank you for your patience,” he said.
I chuckled slightly. “Patience? It is no effort to help you.”
Estarfin suddenly turned and pulled a package from his robes. “You are seeking to craft more jewellry. Would this be of use to you?” He opened the package to reveal a large piece of gold, hammered into a single block. “I have no need of it any more.”
I looked at the gold with astonishment. “In truth you would give that to me? It is most precious.” It was indeed a very valuable ‘gift’ to a jewel smith. To anyone.
Estarfin held it out to me, and I took it carefully in my hands, marveling at such generosity. My mind was awhirl with many ideas of what I could craft from it.
“This is too much,” I protested.
Estarfin shrugged. “I have no need for it anymore. I ask but one thing, do not use it for anything for me.”
He smiled at me. “As I said, I have no need of it anymore.”
I didn’t understand, but it was too useful a gift to refuse. And as ever, Estarfin knew what he was doing.
“Why would I use gold for you,” I baited him, “When I have already used most of my mithril on you?”
He smiled again, looking down at the ruby set mithril and gold ring I had given him at Midsummer.
“I am glad you like it.” I said, setting the gold block down beside me. “From the moment it came to me, I always intended you should have Caranthir’s gem. I know you say it was for him to decide who he gave such a token to, but those last years, after the Nirnaeth Arnodiad, I know you were with him all the time.”
Estarfin sat and listened.
“And yet given the state of we Noldor, fighting daily for our lives, there was little time for niceties. I feel I have done what he intended, but could not.”
“Could not?” Estarfin looked away from the ruby ring to me. “I was not a Captain, nor advisor to our Prince, Danel. I was simply a soldier.”
There was no disgrace in being a soldier, I thought. But I knew Caranthir thought more of Estarfin than he would admit. I also knew it would be difficult to explain. Had it been a dream? A vision? I knew not, nor had I pondered the matter much until late. It was back several years, and at that time I was a prisoner of some few Angmarrim, and drugged half out my mind. But I knew what I had seen and heard, and I had given the gem to ‘Yarehtar’. To what end, I knew not.
“Apart from that time at Amon Ereb, he knew your worth. He knew it then…but he was angry.” I was growing more strident than I was comfortable with. Estarfin had done no wrong, but I wanted him to see as I saw. “He needed you there, at the end. When he fell. I was not in Doriath, so I had to learn what happened from others, many others. It grieved me to learn of his fate.”
Estarfin had lowered his head as I spoke. “I could not believe it when I saw him. I had no doubt he would have survived. I always thought him to be invulnerable, immovable.”
“As did I.” I said with a tear at the memories.
“No, you said it grieved you when you heard he fell,” Estarfin said. “I did not believe it even when I saw it.”
“You saw him slain?” I asked, tears flowing freely.
Estarfin nodded.
“That would have been as the end of the world to me.” I wiped my eyes. “But you loved him too, I deem.”
“There was no shame in simply being a warrior, a soldier for our Prince. I was entrusted with command once, and proved unworthy. It was my greatest honour to be able to serve him still though.”
There were fresh tears on my face, this time for the young Estarfin riding out on the horse his father had gifted him, to accomplish a trade mission with Fingolfin’s folk. I had not been there to watch him depart, but I could imagine the joy with which he left Thargelion, only to be robbed of his dreams by Morgoth.
I straightened myself and wiped my eyes. Estarfin was watching me with understanding.
“I would have served him better, had he let me. Always was he trying to keep me safe.” I said, with a hint of regret.
“He was too fond of you to risk any hurt?” Estarfin asked.
“He was fond of who I reminded him of,” I replied, knowing that was not the whole truth. “There were so few women in the House of Finwe. There were more in the House of Mahtan. So I was spoiled. I could have or do almost anything I wished. I had a place near him at the High Table, I rode to the hunt, I had one of the best seats at any performance. My parents cared deeply for me, but so, it seemed, did he and his Lady. I always thought, when they had a child of their own it would be different. But that never happened.” I looked at Estarfin, wondering what he thought, for I had spoken aloud something very few knew.
“I do not regret his favour, but neither did I have wealthy tastes. And it brought me some..enemies. Nay, not enemies, but those who thought I did not deserve any favour.”
“Envy, perhaps?” said Estarfin.
“Perhaps. My parents did not abuse the situation. We had honour enough from the House of Mahtan.”
“And you?” Estarfin asked.
I thought for a moment, casting my mind back to those ancient days.
“I like to think I did not abuse the situation either. I did abuse the guards sometimes with my attempts to evade them, and play in the gardens. I thought of our Prince as my Uncle when I was very young. Foolish, I know. But I always knew he could turn away from me if I displeased him. At least I think he would have. Only once did I do that.” I sighed. “I need no title nor finery. I am happy as I am.”
I looked over to Estarfin. He was still watching me closely. “He would have wanted you to have that gem,” I reinforced my view. "It is something a soldier would wear, not a gem smith or trader.” I turned to take up again the block of gold, and consider what I could make of it.
“I am glad to have it,” Estarfin said. ”Both that it was a gift from you, and that it was once his.”
I smiled happily at him. Then of a sudden he laughed.
I looked questioningly at him.
“You need no finery, yet you sit there with a block of gold in your hand.”
I looked down at the gold, then laughed too. “And I am glad for your gift. I will make good use of it in due course. I may not need it, but it does not mean I don’t appreciate it.”
“I spoke in jest only,” Estarfin protested with a grin. Then he looked at me a little appraisingly. “At times I still see the rich young favourite of our Prince when I look at you, but that is not fair.”
I looked at him apologetically. “When I was young I knew not that I was treated differently.”
Estarfin shrugged. “It was simply the way of things. Some were envious.”
I looked into his eyes. “I am glad you understand,” I said. “Position was not something I sought. But I would not disrespect him, or my parents.”
At that, Estarfin frowned. “Wealth and position does not make one wicked, or unworthy. It simply was the way of things.”
I looked at him with much regard. “Nay, they do not, no more than lack of wealth or position. We are who we are.”
“Whether that be the beautiful princess in the tower, or the filthy smith in the forges,” Estarfin laughed again.
I frowned slightly at his disrespect of himself. “I was never a princess, and you were only a filthy smith because you worked so diligently in the forges. And I watched you, and respected you for it.”
“At times Forodhir would not have agreed with that. Too often he caught me staring out of the windows.”
“Do we not all daydream at times?” I spoke in his defense.
Estarfin rubbed the back of his hands.
“He struck you!” I gasped. For I had long known from friends who Estarfin was watching from the window. I felt ashamed I used to wander there.
He shrugged. “It is important to pay attention with red-hot metal. I hold no enmity towards him.”
“Indeed. He was a good and caring mentor. I asked my parents to let me train with him. They refused.”
“Too dirty?” Estarfin grinned as he teased me.
“They knew I wanted to train for the wrong reason.” I started to blush a little. “I am a jewel- smith, not a metal-smith.” I held out my small, fine hands. “And I wanted to train there to be closer to you.”
“There are similarities of course, but… “ Estarfin paused.
I drew back my hands, but could not stop the red flush on my face any more than our Prince could.
Estarfin was watching me closely.
“I could never lift a metal smith’s hammer, I could not even get my hands round most.” I muttered. Then I looked to him.
“You always seemed so distant. Not cold or aloof…but unattainable….No, that is not what I mean.”
“I was oft rebuked for watching you.” I tried to hold his gaze. After hiding things for so long, it felt strange to speak them forth. Strange, but good.
He frowned.
“Whenever I had the chance, I watched from the balcony in case you passed by. Or went for a walk in the meadows beyond the smithy….not knowing you were struck. And I said naught to you, because you were always working so hard. You never noticed? (Though it was becoming obvious he did.) Of course not, you had to concentrate.”
“I knew so little of you,” he began his reply. “I called you the beautiful princess in the tower. That is what I thought you were. Above us, above knowing us.”
I shook my head in sorrow at opportunities missed.
“I hoped perhaps, when I returned from Barad Eithel, you would notice me,” he said softly.
“You hoped that I would notice you?” The irony cut me deeply. “I have noticed you from that time in the Hall, when your father struck you. I noticed you every day you were in Thargelion. I knew then who I wanted to be with. That has never changed. But my parents restrained my hopes, until we were older, and they could see better what you would become.”
He was still listening carefully, watching me.
“I told them I would wait awhile, but they would not change my mind. And then, when I thought you may be in reach, that you may consider me, the fires of Angband were upon us.”
Estarfin shook his head. “We thought we were full grown, but we were little more than children.”
“Do our folk not often choose the one they want to be with as children?”
“So I have been told,” he replied.
I was full of thoughts and emotions, things spoken I had long withheld.
‘Beautiful Princess in the Tower?’ I smiled. I also yawned.
Estarfin noticed and inclined his head. He yawned too.
“We have sat here all night and most of today. Time to rest I think.”
He nodded, rising to his feet. “I should bathe first.”
“I shall go straight to bed, but we can have breakfast later tonight?”
He picked up his bag of tools, bowed his head to me, then to she whom the statue represented, and returned to his hall.
