I awoke to find Estarfin absent, although his cloak was placed over me. Parnard, however, was sitting on a nearby rock, resting his chin on his hand and looking rather thoughtful.
“We will travel soon, I believe. At least this time I do not wear iron chains,” he said upon hearing my movement.
I stretched a little as I sat up, noticing Anor was already riding in the sky. Not midday, but it was late morning. Estarfin and Parnard had let me sleep in. I rolled my shoulders, feeling a satisfactory ‘click’ of muscles that eased any remaining stiffness, then swung round on my makeshift bed to face my cousin. “You are looking better this morning than before; there is more colour to your face. And you sit upright again, as you are wontedly to do.” I smiled at him.
Parnard made a wry face and laughed. “Walking and sitting straight is easier when not lugging around a hundredweight of iron.” He stood up to arrange a heavy cloak over his shoulders, then settled down again on the rock. Like the shirt of mail he wore, the cloak was lent to him by Estarfin.
“How does my cousin fare this cold winter’s day?” he asked me, once he was again comfortable.
I momentarily pondered my reply, looking around at the hall of trees, pallid light glinting through their sparse canopy. The chill was lessened as I wore two cloaks. “I am rested. I suspect I appear well enough. But how I feel is different. I feel on edge, even though I know we are in ‘safe’ lands. It is as if I must still be wary all the time.” I looked at him, wondering if he understood.
“As if you are…being watched?” His bright eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Perhaps we were sharing a similar experience. “Well, sort of,” I replied as I wrapped my cloak tight around my shoulders. “It is as if a faint air of our troubles is still following us. But then again, I think it is likely to only be wolves watching from a distance. Or Halflings?”.
“Or something else, peradventure?” the Wood-elf said.
I shook my head. “I am merely on edge; it may take a few weeks for my spirit to settle.” Looking to the horses, neither of them showed any alarm, quite the opposite, in fact. “I have grown fond of Iavas,” I said, changing the subject. “Although I must see that he is returned to those at Lin Gilliath before the summer ends. I shall be most pleased to see Pelorian again, and she fully healed, I hope.”
The faintest of footsteps approached. At the sound the horses flicked their ears forward as they looked up in recognition. Estarfin had obviously found nothing troublesome on his patrol, because he smiled at us, inclined his head, then sat beside me.
“We were just saying - ” we said in unison, and looked at one another in surprise. I flashed Parnard a warning look, and would have brought my finger to my lips if he did not keep silent and spoke of feeling watched, but he took the hint. “We were saying we would be pleased to see our horses again,” I told Estarfin.
“They will surely have missed you, and have been worried,” he replied.
“Although I was loaned a fine stallion from the elves at Lin Gilliath, Pelorian is a friend of over twenty years standing. It has been mere moments for me, but over half a horse’s lifetime,” I said, a little wistfully.
“I would have thought you would be used to an entire stable of fine horses at your command,” he said with a playful smile. His comment was tongue-in-cheek, another lighthearted dig at my entitled upbringing in the noble's tower in Thargelion.
“There you go again,” I laughed. “You know full well I was never a Princess. And although you and some of your friends named me the Princess in the Tower -”
“The beautiful Princess in the Tower,” he corrected.
“You know, I think it was really you who came up with that title for me! Do not blame your friends. And even then, you knew it was not so.”
He laughed and took my hand in his. “To me you have always been a princess.”
Parnard suddenly snapped his head up and stared southwest, towards the nearby trees.
Estarfin followed his gaze, and we three sat in silence, listening for any sound. All I could hear was the wind whistling through the pine needles. “There is little danger in this land,” Estarfin said at last.
“Indeed, there is no threat here,” I said, now rising to my feet. “But I admit, I feel slightly strange.” That was as far as I was prepared to go while we still travelled.
The wind gusted, making my hair blow back like a billowing red banner and tossing Estarfin’s dark locks forward across his face, as if confirming my sense of unease. He pushed away his wild hair from his eyes to regard me closely. “Winter is here. Is that all you feel?”
“It feels strange returning home,” Parnard said.
I sensed that there was more he wished to say, though I hoped he would not as yet. However, his attention appeared diverted by a mazy pattern of lichen and moss. “I just want a good bath to wash away all the bad memories,” I said, momentarily indulging the thought of sinking into fragrant hot water for a long soak. At Numenstaya the bath towels were warmed and set upon a nearby rail, and my silken robe hung on a hook behind the door.
“Yes! Hot baths, warm food and wine, and soft beds are what we need,” said Parnard. His words brought me out of my reverie.
“And to sit awhile by our home fire and just…rest,” I added.
Estarfin frowned. “And hopefully rest with a strong wall between us and the outside, if the naugrim have finished their work.”
I nodded. “Knowing their pride in their work, I expect it is done. Besides, Filignil would not have let them dawdle.”
“By now they will have eaten us out of house and hearth, and drunk up all the wine,” Parnard complained.
“And you, meldanya. How are you?” I asked Estarfin. Oh, he appeared hale and well, and I cannot begin to say how much it pleased me to see him smile so easily. But he would likely keep some matters to himself rather than cause us worry.
Parnard rose to his feet and walked away without saying a word, as he often did when he thought we wished for time alone. By now we knew his meaning well enough. His discretion and courtesy were appreciated.
“How am I? After all you have endured?” Estarfin sighed and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “I feel - blessed, almost. I did not expect to return with the both of you.”
“And we are blessed that you found us. Thank you, Estarfin. What I want, and what I think Parnard must want too, is to return to our life as we left it. We cannot change what happened, but we can refuse to let our future be influenced by it.”
“You wish to feel safe at home once more.”
“Indeed.” At heart Estarfin was ever the defender, the protector of his people. He had not said as much in words, but I suspected he felt any harm that came to any at Numenstaya was in some manner due to his failure. It was not so, of course. I raised my hands to rest them on his broad shoulders. “Times are changing, the old darkness returns, but we face it together this time.”
We stood very close as Parnard passed by a short distance away, keeping up his pretense of patrolling the area around us. He was about to skirt around and give us more time together, but before he turned away, I beckoned him to return. We were ready to move on.
Estarfin looked up at the pale sky. “It is always pleasant travelling in this land. Let us ride. It will only be a few hours before we are under the stars again.”
So we rode on, heading across the countryside, away from the villages, and making for the gate to the Yondershire, at the village of Needlehole. As we passed Hobbiton at a far distance, we noticed a few folk well wrapped up in brightly coloured cloaks and scarves and caps, making for the local Tavern. Noticing them, Parnard commented. “I suppose we are safe enough here, and can manage on our own without a grand escort from the Captain of Celondim.”
Estarfin and I exchanged sidelong glances and smiled.
“I think we shall be safe enough from the Halflings - yes.” Estarfin said, with as much of a straight face as he could muster.
I laughed at his wry jest, and said, “Since you mention him, we should invite Culufinnel to Numenstaya as soon as we can. I would know all is well with him, and thank him properly with a good meal. It is the least we can do.” The sky was already darkening, though it was early afternoon. Looking up, I could see the stars of the Valacirya, high in the sky, shining faintly. I pointed at it, a warm glow filling me as if Tintallë herself was welcoming us back. We admired the fast-appearing stars for a few moments before continuing. The land around us was settling down for the night, with the last of the bird song and the scuttering or rabbits and mice in the undergrowth. All was quiet, save the barely noticeable sound of our horses hooves. We headed to the Needlehole Gate, choosing it as the swiftest trail, and were almost upon the gate guard when he gasped with surprise, then tipped his hat at us in recognition. We had visited the village’s boundaries a few times, not wishing to disturb the peace of the village folk, especially as Parnard had ridden through the center of the village, scaring a few of the halflings before he crashed into a fence. I think he had drunk a good deal of wine.
“A good evenin’ ter yer Elven Folk. Tread carefully in the Yondershire,” said the Bounder. We assured him we would.
“What he means is ‘do not ride our fences down’,” I said when out of earshot. “Remember, Cousin, Halflings do not like it when we tear wildly through their villages,”
“I remember it well enough,” Parnard said with a laugh. “But you smoothed things over with them afterwards, and we remain friends.”
We rode uphill and turned West, towards Nobottle. There were mostly fields and grasslands ahead, though hills and woodlands in the distance. I urged Iavas on at a canter. Parnard grabbed my waist to keep from falling off. “Hold on tight,” I advised.
“Now she tells me!” Parnard said to Estarfin, who had drawn alongside.
Estarfin looked slightly surprised at my riding ‘acrobatics’, as I encouraged Iavas on at a gallop. Then he raced ahead on Norlomë, who was swift-footed, and even more so because Iavas carried two riders. Her hooves kicked up a cloud of dust and dried leaves behind her. Estarfin rode ahead, enjoying the brisk ride in open country. As the lights of Nobottle came into view, we found that he had stopped, and was affectionately patting Norlomë’s neck.
“Do you know any of these halflings?” Estarfin asked as a small group of woolen-clad male Bounders headed our way. I turned my head to take a better look, knowing that he could not tell one halfling from another. He inclined his head politely and Parnard greeted them with a cheery wave.
“I know them not, nor do I want to worry them with our tale,” I said, and addressing the halflings, said, “A good evening to you. We seek to pass through your land to our home in Ered Luin. We have been on the road for some time.”
“Elveses,” they muttered to each other. Two had pitchforks, the others had clubs. All had short bows, and a quiver on their back. No weapon was raised. “Good folk, for Big People, but a bit scary,” I heard one say.
I smiled. “I am Danel. Behind me rides my cousin, Parnard.”
“Oh! oh!” One of their number tipped his green-feathered felt hat. “‘Tis the High Lord himself! Stand back!”
“Once glanced, forever held in memory,” said Parnard.
“I think they recognised your name.”
Estarfin drew closer to the halflings, slowly, so as not to alarm them. The earlier accusation of some that he was a ‘demon’ had stung him, though he knew now that a few of their kind had reconsidered this first impression of him, and considered him an ally.
“And you know Lord Estarfin, our guard,” I added, hoping they would recognise his name also.
They obviously did. They all bowed and backed up a little.
“Him be the black demon?” I heard one of the halflings whisper to another.
I sighed. “Lord Estarfin is as much an Elf as Parnard or myself. We Elves are not demons.”
They spoke briefly among themselves again. “Nay, Mistress Henepa back at Tighfield always speaks well o’ him and ‘em all.” They ventured a little closer.
“Our thanks to you. Is Miss Henepa at home, then?”
“Aye, Lady Danel, some couple of weeks ago. Them all are.” The ‘leader’ or self-appointed spokesman beamed at me. He was a stocky lad of no more than fifty, with a heavy fringe of curly hair under his hood. Like all the others he wore no boots or shoes. “I be tellin’ her we seen yer, next I am at th’ Bent Elbow.”
“Yer will get a free ale fer that, Briffo,” one of his bright faced companions said.
“Good. We shall visit Henepa and her friends soon.” I smiled down at them. “Do tell her that she and the others have oft been in our thoughts.”
They gestured us onwards through the fields rather than the center of the village. “Some folk be sleepin’, and don’t take kindly to Big Folk trampling down their garden gates.” Then they all bowed low. Whether this was to soften their reference to the High Lord’s midnight ride through their village square, or because of some remaining fear of the Elf Demon, I was unsure.
I smiled warmly at them, but I was not sure what expression Parnard wore as he sat behind me, and thought it best to ride on. At a word to our horses we were away, Estarfin riding fast and freely, laughing with sheer joy. With two riding Iavas I did not follow his example again, keeping my mount’s speed at a canter. “As you will reach home before us, ask Filignil to draw a bath for me, meldanya,” I called after him.
“Of course, Princess,” he replied with a wave. Yet Estarfin did not continue to ride ahead for long, and slowed his horse’s pace well before we reached Tighfield.
“We must visit our friends here soon,” I said. “Glad though I am to know they are home, I would see their faces and speak with them. For now, shall we give this village a wider berth?"
The welcoming lights of the homes of Tighfield twinkled in the dark. There was a low sound of singing and merriment coming from the long burrow that was The Bent Elbow.
“Elves travel through these lands at times. We are but three. Why would our presence worry them?” Estarfin asked me.
“Because we are not a train of peaceful pilgrims headed to the ships,” I answered. “Though we are unlikely to cause upset, I would rather not become a curiosity for the whole village to talk about for days on end.”
Estarfin shrugged.
“Do you recall when we first travelled through Stock, and you greeted them in Quenya? And then they all ran away from us and hid?” I asked him. He looked innocent. Estarfin had been trying his best to be friendly, after all.
“When we visit, we shall likely have to help that one halfling out of another scrape he has got himself into,” said Parnard.
“Gaisarix, you mean?” I couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of that brave but foolhardy Halfling. “Yes, I suppose it is about time we rescued him again.”
“Certain folk are drawn to trouble and danger like flies to honey,” he muttered.
We rode on, feeling both exhausted and elated. Our journey was almost at its end.
“There, that is where it all started.” I pointed to a field with several large rocks scattered about, sheltered beside a grove of trees.
“Hmm?” Estarfin turned to look.
“The brigand attack, meldanya. Those who thought Parnard and I would be easy targets until you came galloping over the hill on Gilastor.”
“We certainly gave them a reckoning and taught them the error of their ways,” said Parnard.
“Indeed. They are Men,” Estarin replied.
Then we passed through the arched stone wall’s gate near a Bounder’s hut, and rode on under starlight, westwards to home.
I voiced what I had been thinking since we had returned to the lands of the Ered Luin. “It feels as if we have been away for some years, though the familiarity of this land wraps me in a comforting embrace.”
Estarfin breathed the air deeply as if to reassure himself. “We are back in elven lands.” The horses needed no guidance. Turning left off the old path and down a concealed track, we descended to the newly fortified gate and walls of Numenstaya. Finally, we were home.
