“Let us look for Estarfin in the Hall of Fire, and we can talk to Sogadan again. As you said to him, we have more tales to tell - or peradventure, there are tales being told there now about us,” Parnard said with a grin, brushing off his brand-new green velvet doublet and making a few adjustments to his twiggy crown. “Am I presentable, Cousin?”
“Oh, yes, Parnard. Perhaps I should change into a new gown?”
“Yes, you must wear your finery - in case Estarfin is there," he answered, and while he waited he whistled a lively tune and looked all around at the comfortable furnishings that adorned their temporary living quarters. When Danel was ready, the two elves wended their way over the paths and bridges to their destination within the Last Homely House. Outside the Hall of Fire Danel hesitated, then the doors of the hall swung open, and out walked Manadhlaer, accompanied by a tall, powerfully-built elf in a green robe, fair of fashion as any might be. The lady’s jaw dropped as she saw the two of them.
“Well, Lady Manadhlaer, how goes it?” said Parnard, making a low bow before her.
“I…Lord Parnard! It goes wonderfully now.”
He liked this reply so much (even if he was a little surprised by it) that he grinned broadly, for hearing himself addressed in this way by the grey-eyed Nolde, one of the wisest and noblest ladies of the Valley, pleased him greatly.
“Lord Branalph, hiril Danel and hîr Parnard.”
Parnard inclined his head to the green-robed elf. The usual pleasantries were exchanged, and the talk was light, then Danel said, “It is good to be back in Imladris, for only a brief time. We will travel within the week to Mirkwood.”
Up to this point Parnard had been paying little attention to the conversation, and seemed to be content letting Danel do all the talking as he watched elves dart in and out of the courtyard, but upon hearing this he cried out, “Within a week!” and turned his gaze longingly towards the doors of the Hall of Fire, where his friend Sogadan, and his wines, could be found. Then the doors swung open again, and out stepped Estarfin, carrying a goblet of red wine.
“Will you come through the Vale again on your return? Or will you have the lucky lady with you, perchance?" Manadhlaer said with a wink. That gossip Sogadan! thought Parnard. News spreads fast in the Valley, faster than water. He wondered how much of his business the Vintner of Imladris had been telling folk, but not for very long, as Manadhlaer continued, “Well, I will be curious to learn what advice Sogadan will have, and yet more so to learn the outcome of this adventure.”
“Any advice he has, unless it is on the subject of wine, is probably best ignored,” Estarfin said, sipping wine.
“Oh, he can give some good advice, every now and then. He must pick up dribbles of wisdom, sitting there all day and night,” said Parnard.
Manadhlaer scoffed. “Dribbles, indeed. Daegond used to call it the ‘Hall of Lies.'"
“Daegond had a mighty powerful way with words,” laughed Parnard. Daegond ‘The Hound’ was dead now, dead and buried on the hill just outside the Last Homely House, and when he was alive, he saved his most profane insults for those folk whom he despised, and would often give these words as presents to Parnard.
Estarfin smiled as he thought of his friend’s memory. “Daegond had little patience for the gossip and tales of that place.”
“Planning a journey?” piped up a small voice.
“This elleth is Ahmo, and the woman in blue is Anurania, student of herb lore and infusions thereof,” said Manadhlaer.
“I have not met either of you before, but it is always an honour to make acquaintances here,” Danel said and looked towards Estarfin. Parnard smiled at the newcomers, his ever-cogitating mind distracted with the noise and busyness of the place, then made a sudden start after realizing, belatedly, that one of them was a Woman! He turned to Estarfin, and was about to suggest they go inside the Hall to continue their converse, when Estarfin drained his drink to the dregs and announced that his cup was empty. Parnard breathed a sigh of relief as he watched him stride off into the Hall of Fire. Danel nudged him, saying, "He goes for more wine.”
“It is a good idea,” Parnard said.
“Pray, lord, do not be anxious. You look all on edge,” Manadhlaer told him.
“No, no, no,” he said, forcing out another smile, “all is well now, lady.” Parnard had little to fear; Estarfin would obey the ancient rules of hospitality imposed by the lord of the hall, and would not be a threat to any guest under Elrond's roof.
He was surprised to see Estarfin return carrying a tray laden with enough wine for all, even the woman, and first he offered it to Parnard, then Manadhlaer, who relieving him of his burden held the tray out to the others. Estarfin stood there with empty hands, looking exceedingly grumpy, thought Parnard.
“Lady Danel, where do you journey? Do you wish to visit Lorinand?” asked Ahmo.
“We travel to what was once Greenwood the Great,” she said, and nodded towards the Wood-Elf. “Our good friend’s home.”
“Bring someone along who can fight if you yourself are not adept at it,” Ahmo said.
“Ah…Estarfin friend is accompanying us,” said Parnard, sipping wine and rocking back on his heels. Did this sandy-haired elleth not think he could fight? Well, he did not have his sword girded to his hip, as the law of the House did not allow weapons in the Hall of Fire, and his blood was not stirred up to fight, either: her remark must be overlooked.
Danel looked at Ahmo for a moment, then said, “Both Parnard and I are experienced, but you make a worthy point: it is no game.”
The woman asked her friend quietly, “Where did they say they were going?”
“Mirkwood you might know it by,” Ahmo told Anurania. “Taur nu Fuin. Forest of Shades.”
“It is not that bad,” protested Parnard, not liking to hear his homeland disparaged, even if it was true.
“It is quite dark and dank in places,” Estarfin said to him.
“I deem that my friend is tired,” Manadhlaer said with a nod towards Branalph. “We have both been doing a great deal of planning and paperwork, so I will hand someone this empty cup to take back in with them, but it is always rather easy to find me. I am afraid I should be of no help with the travel plans. But Parnard! Honestly - do not lose hope! Things may turn out better than you fear!”
When Parnard heard this, he was taken aback for a moment, and then he began thinking what her words could mean. If it was possible to obtain, he would do everything in his power to get it. “I have not lost hope. I fear naught,” he declared.
'Well, that is good to hear. It is an errand that will hopefully have an extremely happy conclusion,” Manadhlaer told him, and bidding them goodnight, went away with Branalph.
Estarfin turned on his heel, unable to bring himself to share wine with any Man or Woman, and as Parnard followed him into the Hall of Fire, he asked himself a thousand questions, going over and over Manadhlaer’s simple words, which were kindly spoken and meant to comfort, but by the time he reached his chair beside Sogadan, he had not reassured himself at all.
