We four stood by the statue of Tintallë, under her swift-growing starry mantle above. Filignil had just departed to bring water for Belegos to wash his face and hands, and wine for us all.
“Is it not said, do not ask elves for advice, for we will say both no and yes?” Belegos said with a hint of a grin.
“I never liked that saying,” Parnard murmured.
Estarfin nodded. He did not like giving advice.
“Is that saying not meant for the race of Men, my friend,” I replied to Belegos with a small smile, “that they do not bother us with pointless questions? I do not think it applies to us asking each other.”
The task at hand was to bring Belegos up to date as to what was happening, and in a very shortened version. He was astute, so it should not be difficult. “Parnard and I were captured, and carried some distance into Angmar. As you can see for yourself, we were returned safely, for Estarfin, Parnard’s brother Culufinnel, and Yrill rescued us.”
Belegos frowned darkly at that news, and looked to Estarfin, who nodded and said, “It was a long hunt, but as you see, Danel is well. Our friend, Parnard, is another matter. Alas, although I can protect him bodily, I have no skill with dreams.”
Belegos raised a brow questioningly at that statement. I continued, “Parnard was held captive longer than I, and that by a Sorceress of Umbar in service of the Dark Lord. It seems of late that she is able to sneak into Parnard’s dreams.”
“I will not speak of it,” Parnard, shifted his gaze to the ground.
“She plagues our friend with visions and fell laughter, and permits him no real rest. I have not encountered such meddling before. I am unsure how to proceed.” I gazed up briefly at the stars again, thankful for their reassurance, but I was frustrated at having no clear answer.
“I do not need to tell you that dreams are powerful,” Belegos looked steadfastly at me. “To be able to influence another’s dreams must take some power indeed.”
“We need a scholar,” Parnard declared. “No offence to you Noldor, but we need someone more skillful and knowledgeable in these particular matters.”
He was correct. I was not offended, I was unsure. Estarfin already knew this matter was beyond his skill. But we both knew others who were likely capable. “Lords Elrond and Cirdan spring to mind,” I suggested.
“But Lord Elrond is far away and I am stuck here,” lamented our friend.
“A messenger to Imladris will take just over two weeks.”
“Must I stay here, by this statue? If only I could carry it around with me.” Parnard muttered.
“This is the safest place we could think of at short notice. You do understand that it is not the statue that protects you, but She who Lights the Stars?” I knew he knew that, but wanted to remind him all the same.
“You only need stay near it while sleeping,” Estarfin pointed out. There was silence for a few moments, as each of us reflected further on options.We three Noldor were far more informed about physical battles than mind games.
“How did this come to pass?” Belegos said, refocusing our attention to the root cause. “A witch of Umbar has cast her attention at Parnard, an elf of Mirkwood, for no discernable reason?”
Parnard shook his head sadly, and shrugged. “It makes little sense to me,” he admitted, just as Filignil returned, carrying a large tray.
“Ceuro is preparing for the journey, Danel,” she said. I also spoke with Yrill about riding to fetch Curumaito.”
“And she will carry a letter to Lord Cirdan in Mithlond, also,” I added. “That Lord is also most wise, and he is much nearer.” I was the only one there who knew Cirdan of the Havens to any degree. It was natural they thought first of Elrond, but the distance to Imladris was concerning.
Filignil nodded as she placed the tray on the grass. It held four goblets and four bottles of Limael’s Red. As usual, there were a few bowls filled with berries, small meat pies and some sliced hard boiled eggs. There was a silver basin with warm water, a bar of soap and a thick white towel. She offered the towel to Belegos, then held the basin and soap while he washed his hands and face. Parnard, ever helpful, had already taken up the wine and filled our cups.
“The reason is because they are envious,” he declared, all of a sudden.
“The reason that the Sorceress cast her attention on you?” I asked.
He nodded, passing me a goblet, then handed one to Estarfin, who temporarily put his spear aside. He would not drink much, wary of any attack upon us.
“Envious?” I said to Parnard. “Yes, they are envious of our…”
“Immortality," he finished for me.
“Foolish men,” Estarfin said, his face dour.
Belegos smirked slightly. He had finished drying his hands and thanked Filignil. She nodded briefly, took back the towel and soap, and headed back to the house.
“Fetch a goblet for yourself, Filignil,” I called after her.
“Well, she cannot control me!” Parnard said in defiance, flipping hair out of his face. “I will not let her.”
Estarfin nodded with approval. “She shall be defeated.”
I turned to Belegos, “This Zairaphel and her nephew are kindred to the Black Númenórians. They search for ways to lengthen their lives to the extent of the first few generations from King Elros. With me, she was looking to create a concoction using my blood I believe, but with Parnard I think she planned something…else.” I would not speak my thoughts on that matter before Parnard.
Filignil returned with a glass for herself, on a tray that contained several small sweet cakes. She placed the tray on the grass, within Parnard’s reach, then stood back a little from the group.
“Most Men are fools, yes, but they seek to extend their lives as much as possible,” I said as I poured wine into Belegos’s cup, but he politely declined. I handed it to Filignil instead.
“While our kin seek to depart these lands, Men endeavour to remain as long as they can.” Belegos added.
Estarfin reached down and picked up one of the dishes of sweets, baked wafers soaked in wine and topped with thick cream, so no spoons were needed to eat them. “They seek to forsake the gift of Eru. Is that not proof enough of their wickedness?” he reminded us. I nodded at those words.
“No flame wishes to be extinguished,” Belegos pointed out, “not even those who burn brightly in the hearts of the Men of Arda.” Belegos always had more understanding for the Secondborn than Estarfin. Indeed, he and I had tried to explain our views to Estarfin, not that he would change his stance, but that he would understand the Secondborn were still children of Eru. Since the recent kidnapping, however, I had become less fond of the race of Man.
“Belegos, would you care for elderflower cordial, or spring water, or tea?” Filignil asked him.
He turned to her, his expression lightened. “Tea? That would be delightful. The little folk make such wonderful tea. I have developed quite a liking for it.”
As Parnard listened to our conversation, he savored his wine and rocked back and forth on his heels. He was relaxing a little more.
“This is quite good,” said Estarfin, finishing his cake and looking as if he could eat several more. “We could invite some Halflings here, with their tea. They may come, if we lay out lots of food.”
Filignil had again fallen silent, though we valued her thoughts as much as each other’s. She bent down and picked up the plate of meat pies and offered them around.
“It is timely that you mention that, Estarfin friend. We were going to visit them,” said Parnard, taking one of the pies and eating it in two bites, “but I do not know when that will be: I will not bring wickedness into their hamlet” He turned to address our Housekeeper. “Thank you, Filignil! How many times did I tell Danel that I missed your cooking during the time of privation? I shall tell you. It was many, many times.”
She smiled at the compliment. “Marawendi made the cakes, by the way.”
Belegos looked thoughtfully at Filignil for a while. “Danel, I do not remember you having staff,” he finally announced. “I did not realise Filignil was your servant.”
Parnard’s eyes grew wide. “Servant?” He effectively silenced himself by stuffing a pie in his mouth.
Estarfin looked up with a slight smile. No doubt he was thinking this ‘servant’ issue could lead to another session of addressing me as ‘Princess’.
“My, we are indeed a Lady,” said Belegos.
I smiled at him. “Filignil is my friend, and a sound protector of us all at need. She adheres to the ‘old ways’, and has known me since the days of Thargelion, though I knew her not very well until more recently. I have friends, Belegos, and students, who may also become friends. My family had servants, but that was not me. I also have a betrothed, who likes little better than to bait me for my background, about which I had no choice.”
Estarfin almost spat out part of the pie as he laughed.
“Old ways are the best ways,” Parnard interjected.
I nodded. “These halls and staff I inherited. We are all friends here.”
Belegos gestured to his dirt-stained fingernails, which the soap was unable to brighten, and the dagger at his belt. “What you see before you is my inheritance.”
“And a good enough inheritance it is,” Filignil spoke up, doubtlessly thinking of her own daggers and bow.
“You misunderstand me, lady. I want for nothing,” he replied, though he did not know of the times Filignil had lived in the wilds surviving by her hunting skills.
“Neither do I, regardless of the situation. “ She smiled warmly at me. “We were talking of tea?”
“Oh Belegos, we each come into the world when our parents deem we shall. We have no choice in the matter, only in what we do about it. Wanting for nothing is a good place to be for anyone.”
“I am quite content with the fallen leaves of the forest as my bed, and the stars as my roof.”
“As am I,” I replied. Estarfin nodded in agreement with the ‘stars as my roof’. “In fact, if it never rained nor snowed, Estarfin and I could easily live without a roof.”
“A bed is nice though,” he added.
( Picture: How to aid Parnard )
