I smiled as soon as I walked into the room, and saw it there on the wall, over the bed. For a moment a different sort of ‘magic’ lifted my spirits. It was good magic. I looked to Estarfin, who was just behind me.
“Remember?” I said.
Of course he remembered. It was he who had painted it. He smiled slightly, but remained silent.
Parnard was right behind us and almost collided. Following the direction of my gaze, he asked, “What is that, my cousin? A picture to scare away evil spirits?”
He was partly right, and I suspected Filignil had placed it where it was for that very reason.
“It is a picture painted by Estarfin, Cousin. A self portrait,” I told him.
Parnard’s eyes widened, not with delight, and he offered a slow, careful nod as he stared at the work. Estarfin took a seat almost under the picture, as if to make the point, but he raised his brows at me. ‘You brought it to notice, you must explain it,” he seemed to imply.
I remembered, and smiled again. It had been over ten years past, when we both dwelt in Imladris. I had been walking down to the Last Homely House when he had called over to me, “Danel, come look at my painting. It is my first attempt.”
I was not busy, and even if I had been, I would always make time for him, so I walked over to the dwelling that was his home at that point. It was the first time he had asked me in. I tried not to appear overly inquisitive, and a cursory glance told me what I expected. A warrior's home, with an array of weapons and armour, but also a few finer pieces of art and gems that showed an interest in fine craftsmanship other than with metalwork. Then I saw it.
“Oh!” I had taken a step back. I took two to view it properly.
“It is in a primitive style,” he had explained.
Well yes! It was a round wooden shield, well finished and polished. A solid but basic defence. And on it…“It portrays anger rather well,” I told him. “An angry and fearsome version of you?”
He had maintained a serious expression. “How an enemy may perceive me, no?”
I was not sure then, and to be honest I have never been sure if he was serious, or playing some game with me.
A circle of wood, and on it were two dots of red paint for eyes, two raised brows also in red paint, and a wide circular mouth of jagged white teeth. That was it. What could I say?
“I do not think I should show it to all, but do you understand what I am conveying?”
I had nodded. “Oh yes,” and thought he conveyed he had great skills in weapon and armour crafting, and should perhaps stick to those instead of portrait painting.
Filignil walked in. “I hope all is to your liking, Lord Parnard? With the weather turning to rain this afternoon I thought it would be good to have a place indoors for us to gather?”
Parnard turned his back on the portrait of Estarfin and moved to stand in front of the fireplace. The air had a late spring chill to it. Filignil had a good point. “I only need to be in the care of The Lady of the Stars when I am sleeping, Filignil,” he said as he pointed to the smaller statue of Tintallë beside the door.
“I understand, but it is better to be safe. If your thoughts wander, or you regain sobriety, her likeness may guide you and remind you to be on guard. I put Estarfin’s portrait up to scare off anything untoward. I hope that was alright?” The prim housekeeper looked from Estarfin to me.
Estarfin inclined his head, and moved his chair a little closer to the fire. I nodded. “I am rather fond of it, Filignil, but a servant of the enemy would be less so, I suspect,” I told her.
“Well, if this room will do, I shall return downstairs to guide Curumaito when he arrives, and welcome Belegos back from his walk. I will bring up more wine, just in case.” She disappeared down the staircase for a few minutes, then returned with five bottles of opened Dorwinion and goblets on a tray. There was also a pile of sliced bread, a large slab of butter on a plate, and another pile of sliced cheese.
“How are you doing?” Estarfin asked Parnard.
The Wood-elf responded, “I would rather be outside on the grass beneath the stars, but the rain shows no signs of stopping.”
Putting the tray down on a side table, Filignil said, “Wine for when it is needed, and bread to toast, should anyone feel like eating. See, there are toasting forks beside the fire. I will have food set out in the small hall later.” She cast an assessing glance around the room, then with a sweep of her long robe, left the three of us to eat our early supper.
I took down plates from a shelf, then set to toasting my first slice by taking up one of the several toasting forks to spear bread and cheese. “This usually tastes better outside, but I admit it appeals even here. I have been too concerned to eat so far. I can do the toasting for us,” I said.
“You are very thoughtful, Cousin,” replied Parnard. His eyes reluctantly slid back to the painting on the wall. It was, no doubt, the first time he had ever seen it.
“I think it is a good likeness, and it should remind Zairaphel of what she is up against,” I pointed out to him.
Parnard clapped a hand over his mouth, and seemingly glad for a distraction, busied himself with preparing his toasting fork.
I looked over at Estarfin. “You may have this as soon as it is ready, meldanya,” I said to him. He shrugged, saying nothing. I wondered if he had never experienced toasting food over a small campfire back home? It was something my friends and I did rather often in autumn months, even in the Prince’s gardens. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Parnard yawning and his fork drooping lower and lower over the flames.
The bread on my fork was a nice golden-brown colour and the cheese was just beginning to bubble at its edges. “There, Estarfin.” I placed it on a plate and handed it to him. He accepted with a nod of thanks and a nod at Parnard. His bread was beginning to blacken and smoke.
“Cousin!” I shouted.
Parnard twitched awake and instantly snatched his fork from the fire.
“I hope you have not toasted your fingers!” I said, and poured out three glasses of wine, before picking up more bread and cheese for myself.
“Did you still not sleep well?” Estarfin drew his chair closer to the fire and cast a troubled glance at our friend.
Parnard let me take the fork from his hand. “Do not let me fall asleep again, Danel!” he said as I discarded the charred toast. “Where did Marawendi go?”
“Marawendi is not far. She slept last night in your house, and I have asked her to rest this day also. She is well, but worried and worn with fatigue.”
Parnard sighed. “The woman is awake.”
It had been daylight for some hours for us; indeed, it was still but afternoon with the promise of a few more hours of light. It was chilly, spring not being advanced enough for the promise of warm breezes or bathing in Anor’s light, but I could not be certain what time of day it was where Zairaphel now dwelt.
“Parnard, can you sense where she is at all? Hopefully she is some distance away?” I finished toasting my bread and cheese and passed the fork to Parnard.
“She is in her stupid hallway again,” he stated. Quite a specific placement, I thought.
“In Umbar? Not nearby then?”
“Did the wine help at all?” Estarfin picked at the toasted cheese, as if he wasn't hungry, then put the plate on the floor and leaned forward on his chair.
“It helps, until it does not.” Parnard sat on the floor, took a small sip of wine, and started eating. “If I must lie in a perpetual drunken stupor to avoid her wiles, then so be it.”
I was slightly confused as to which state was better for him. “So you feel her presence more when you are awake?” I asked.
“No. That is why I must fight off sleep.”
I noticed Estarfin had taken only a couple of sips of his wine. If we were preparing ourselves for the coming night already, then I would not drink more, either.
“I sent the letters out early this morning,” I announced. “Yrill rides to Celondim for Curumaito, and then to Mithlond to deliver the letter to Lord Cirdan, while Ceuro rides to Imladris.”
“So we may receive news from Celondim soon?” said Estarfin.
“Indeed.”
As if on cue, there was a knock on the main door. We could hear Filignil directing Belegos upstairs.
(( Letter to Lords Elrond and Cirdan))
To Lords Elrond and Cirdan,
Hail and greetings to you both.
I write to you from a situation that has arisen which is beyond my abilities to remedy. The books that would have been my first place of inquiry, were burnt along with much of my library when our home was attacked. I am involving our local and trusted healer, Curumaito, but although he is wise, I have only a small hope that he has answers.
I write to you both because the matter involves a servant of the Dark Lord, and I shall need all the wisdom I can acquire. You are both among our most wise.
The matter concerns my very dear friend, Parnard Teludarion of the Greenwood. Of late he was caught up with me in an unlooked for adventure, us both being taken captive and transported to Angmar. Our captors were initially a bunch of Breeland brigands, who appear to have undertaken the act because of a significant reward. But the one ordering the kidnap is known as Zairaphel, a High Priestess from Umbar in the service of Sauron. It seems she and her nephew, one Azrazor of an illegitimate line from Castamir, have some military plans regarding Umbar but also Gondor and much of the West. (see my accompanying letter and the report of Captain Culufinnel of Celondim) but here I request your urgent advice.
As matters transpired, I was rescued by Lord Estarfin, Captain Culufinnel of Celondim, and Yrill Urugdagnir of Eregion. I had been ‘experimented’ on to a small extent and had a fair amount of blood drained from me. Since then, I have regained most of my original strength and foresee no personal long term problems.
However Parnard suffered differently. It was over a month more before we found and rescued him.
Zairaphel seemed to require him as a husband for a mortal woman she had selected. An attempt to introduce longer life into her nephew’s progeny through producing a female for him to wed, one of whose parents was an elf. I believe she likely drugged Parnard on some occasions. She seemed to have attempted to overpower him with her will.
Estarfin and I hoped that once back home in Numenstaya, both Parnard and I would make a fast and full recovery. That has not proven the case for him. He has reported disturbed sleep, confusion, a lack of appetite which is most unusual, and ‘voices and visions’ in his dreams.
Through speaking with him it seems likely to me that this Zairaphel is reluctant to loosen her hold. I know not where she is, physically, though last we heard she planned to return to Umbar. It may matter not, as I believe her attack is one of will, possibly even an attempt at possession.
As we all know, any form of mind control has many limitations, and to maintain any hold the 'attacker' will use much of their own strength. We also know that nothing can penetrate a barrier of unwill about a mind. Alas, we also know from Morgoth and Sauron that they use deception and lies to pass unwill before it arises.
Zairaphel is mortal, not Vala or Maia. She is very limited. However, her service of Sauron concerns me.
How do we strengthen Parnard’s mind, that she cannot take hold, neither exhaust him with her ‘tinkling bells’ voice, or her general malevolence?
We have called on Tintallë as being the first and best defence against darkness. We continue to do so. Of old, both ‘Dark Lords’ have been most keen to break any who recognised their true being and attempted to stand against them. I would venture that, were it just the mortal Zairaphel, I could attempt to remove her. But should she call upon Sauron, then I will be insufficient. Our spirits are stronger than the Secondborn’s, but certainly not than any Power.
If either of you have aught that you would advise me, I beseech you to do so. Ceuro will wait in Imladris until instructed to return. Yrill shall do the same in Mithlond.
You know me as one of the old blood, and no coward. I shall do all I can for Parnard. But I am no match should Sauron be invoked, and may even struggle against one trained in his ways.
My thanks to you both, for your reading and time.
Carnifinde Istanis ))
There was the light sound of booted feet ascending the stairs, then Belegos popped his head in the door. “I have just returned from familiarising myself with Duilond. I hope I am not intruding?” he bowed deeply.
“Not at all,” I rose to my feet to give proper greeting.
Estarfin looked up and smiled to see Belegos’ return.
“You can’t interrupt eating cheese on toast.” Parnard brighted too. Always the more the merrier.
“One of my favourite childhood suppers, my friend. Come join us. I shall toast a slice for you.” I bid him sit down, but as that room had a shortage of chairs, he sat on the floor.
“It is getting cold out there,” he informed us, removing his leather gloves and holding his hands towards the fire.
“That is why Filignil, in her foresight, set out this room for us to use.” I nodded towards the wine on the table. “Help yourself to a drink, if you wish. I will finish the toast.”
The Hunter looked around the room, grinned knowingly at Estarfin’s picture, then shook his head to the wine. “It looks like all save Parnard are planning to keep sober?”
I nodded. “We do not know what we may face. I have sent letters to Elrond and Cirdan, we may be fortunate enough to have a reply from the Lord of Mithlond in a day or so.”
“The matter is in the hands of the Wise now, then.” Belegos sat on the other side of me. His eyes wandered again to the painting. He chuckled. “That is a frightening image. Any fell creature would do well to keep its distance.”
Parnard avoided looking at the picture in case he started laughing again.
“Say what you will, that painting keeps all our spirits high.” I stated.
