Thargelion, Beleriand 390 FA
I was standing on the upper battlements of the stronghold of Thargelion. The air was cold, but heavy with the scent of burning pine, and roasting meats.The sky above was clear, and full of stars. I shuddered momentarily, in anticipation of a few hours of peaceful enjoyment. As a small child I had always attended the festival with my parents, and we had our own celebrations in the Prince’s Gardens, with others of the Court. Now I was older, in my late thirties, I would venture alone. None there were who would harm me. I liked keeping a look out from that vantage point over the valley and Lake Helevorn below. One could watch riders and walkers approaching from some distance. At this time of year there were less travellers than usual. Many of the Dwarven envoys and caravans were holed up in their caverns, keeping warm, and celebrating after their own customs. Knowing what little I did about them, I sometimes imagined a rowdy, merry and quite drunken party. They would have food of course, plenty of meat. And I suspected plenty of hot, spiced ale? But they would all be hidden away from the mid-winter skies, unless perhaps they were on guard? When I was younger I had tried several times to make drawings of their imagined festivities.They were not good illustrations. I fear that I was almost put off that art.
Some of the lantern bearing riders approaching along the road would be families from our nearby villages and forts, coming to spend the celebration with family here. I need not speculate on that, I was used to our traditions. Somewhat similar to others of the Noldor, yet each Prince had some touches of his own.The heart of the Solstice was the drawing in of Pine Logs to feed the ‘Tale Fire’. There would be a huge fir in Prince Caranthir’s main hall, of course, but many larger residences and town squares had them. Folk would sit as near the fires as was comfortable and listen to a tale or two from our most eloquent Story Tellers. Occasionally they were tales once told in Valinor but, as there was no mid-winter there, more often they were about our lives here. Valinor was but an image in the minds of we born in Middle Earth, and a fading memory by choice of those who had made the crossing.
Now our Prince had certain songs written and performed. Stirring songs of we Noldor being likened to the tall firs that grew by Cuivenan. Some of those firs were cut down, to make torches to guide and fires to warm people, when we all dwelt here. In Valinor such had not been necessary, (Even though our King was slain, and the Trees destroyed) Now we had returned, we were the fir trees, burning with righteous anger, that would dare walk in the darkness, our own eyes as flame. We were the fire itself, that would illuminate and warm, and consume any work of the Dark Lord. So be it!
There were also Winter Sports aplenty. We sought and were encouraged to ever hone our skills, especially our physical and mental prowess against an enemy. There were always games.
The main arena to the rear of the keep was mostly used. My vantage point gave a good view of that if I walked to the inner side of the battlements. Racing, skiing, sledge riding, ice-ball, ice-spears, and snowball fights for the young. (Punching in the dark was always held indoors, and was for children.) The grand finale was where four teams containing all age groups struggled to take each other’s flags and camp. Some attacked, others defended their own flag. It was mayhem, if I do say so. The healers were always busy after that. Then came the Winter Ball and Banquet, for those who could still stand, and some who could not, but knew not when they were defeated.
Yes, it was enjoyable, both to participate in, and watch.
And I knew from friends that the boy I oft watched from afar, Estarfin, would be competing that day. They said he would enter the race, though had no love for it, knowing speed was not his gift. He was most likely to succeed in Ice ball, where he could hit the ball further than most, and skate on the ice maintaining his balance. He had come second the previous year. He was also rumoured to be the one folk wanted to ‘defend their flag’, as no one got past him.
Well that year I would see for myself.
Then the torchlit procession was underway.
My friend Caro approached me, somewhat out of breath from climbing all the stairs. He was dressed lightly for racing, but with a thick fur cloak about his shoulders.
“What a wonderful place to watch from, Carnifinde. Your own Eagle’s Nest?”
I laughed and gave him a swift hug.”Sometimes it is good to be alone when there is a crowd.”
He understood me. He had been a friend most of my life. “Sometimes it is fun. Sometimes it is overwhelming. You save yourself for the ball and the feast?”
“For the ball, only if you will partner me. I shall not dance with any other.”
He laughed, as he always acted as ‘escort’ to his three nissi friends. He would dance with us all in turn, if we wanted”
“I shall if you cheer for me in the race?”
I made a face at him.
“Oh, Carnifinde, Estarfin cannot possibly win that. Cheer for one who can, and then cheer for him for everything else he is in?”
I softened to his explanation. “Very well, my friend. And I do hope you win at least some of the contests.”
He took my hand a moment and squeezed it. “We four are friends forever. Rilye and I want you to be happy as well. Anything we can do to help, you know?”
“Ask him to talk to me?” I sounded weak in my frustration. My friends and I all held the suspicion Estarfin thought himself below me in status. We wondered if he had some idea to promote himself more, that he somehow gained recognition and rank?
“He works very hard with Forodhir.” Caro said. “My uncle, who knows about such things, says he aims to be our foremost smith.”
‘That might just do it’ I thought. The foremost armour smith of Thargelion would be quite an honoured position.
“But he wants to be a warrior,” I whispered.
Caro nodded. “If his father will ever permit it.
I lowered my head a little. Therein lay the second ‘issue’ we young ones believed we had identified. Estarfin’s father, if not his mother, did not wish him to learn the skills of a warrior of any sort.
Caro smiled warmly at me, then left, and headed back down the stairs. I heard him exchange words with a guard, most likely, that he passed on the next level down, then all was silent as folk began to take their places. ‘First will be the children’s snowball fight’ was announced. The youngest ones would not stay up all night. There was applause, and a song about us bringing fire to our enemies struck up. The wind was blowing a little more strongly, so I pulled up my fur hood to keep my ears warm.
“Lady?”
I had not heard any footfall, but I knew the voice, and for an instant I froze. Estarfin, up here?
“I do not wish to disturb you, and will leave immediately if you wish?” He bowed deeply.
I turned, my face reddening with embarrassment as, for the first time, I looked directly at him, and he at me.
“You may stay, if you wish. Of course you may.”
He lowered his head a moment, unsure? No longer the brave youth I had watched being struck by his father for disobeying his instructions *, he was taller than me by some several inches, and broader across the shoulders, doubtlessly the latter aided by his smithing. And that wild mane of beautiful hair was even longer and fuller. In truth, I always found him beautiful.
“Estarfin, isn’t it? Forodhir’s apprentice.”
He raised his head immediately, standing straight. “Indeed Lady Carnifinde. That is part of who I am. Though in time I hope to also fight for Thargelion.”
I nodded. I could not take my eyes from him. “I know.” It was not beauty alone that drew me, very few would be so simply mesmerized by another. Nay, it was everything I could perceive about him. It was meant to be.
He raised a brow in curiosity.
“It is not so strange. We hear news of some folk…”
“Even in the high tower?” he finished. “I am but a Captain’s son, and my place is in the military quarter. It is hard to believe nobles know anything of one such as me.”
And in that moment I thought, ‘Hear of you or not, you are the one I would spend my life with, and no other.’ Foolish, yes. Foresight, perhaps? But under that winter solstice moon and stars I knew. No matter what any other said or did, Estarfin was the one I wanted. We did not know each other in any real manner, nor at that particular moment did it seem we would be given chance. But there was such elation kindled in me that I would almost descend the stairs and win all the contests, despite not being entered. There was hope.
“We know whom we wish to know,” I said. I think he understood my meaning. “I have only ever heard good things of you, and of your skills.”
At that he looked a little uncomfortable. He pointed down to the arena, to a couple in the second row, wrapped in thick and hooded cloaks, who I could only just make out. “My parents are there. They will watch me compete. I would honour them if I may.” He halted a moment, “And I would honour…another?”
“In giving of your best you honour all, including yourself.”
He smiled, his sea grey eyes lighting up as if stars were in them.
“Here,” I said, having a sudden and slightly unseemly thought. “I must cheer for a good friend in the race, but I shall cheer for you in any other contest you participate in.” I pushed back my hood and undid a scarlet ribbon that held my hair back from my face. I offered it to him.
“What is this? I am not deserving of anything from one of your standing.”
“May a Lady not give her favour to whom she wishes?”
He took the ribbon, pushed up his sleeve, and wound it round his arm. “A Princess may do whatever she wishes,” he all but laughed. “But I would give you something in return.”
“Defend the flag!” I stated. “And I am no Princess.”
“Spoken like a true lady of Thargelion.” He bowed again and smiled joyfully, but seemed unable to take his eyes from my face. “And now I must be away. It took ten minutes to ascend those stairs."
“Less to descend from them, I warrant.” My heart was pounding in my chest. He had seen me up here, and sought me out? Was it to be a matter of waiting on him coming of age and earning his place among our folk? I would wait. I would wait a thousand years.
He nodded, lay his hand on the ribbon, then pulled down his tunic sleeve to hide it.
“Our secret?”
I nodded, and he left as swiftly as he had arrived.
I was trembling that, at last we had spoken, albeit briefly. Had he truly noticed me up here, alone? Had he thought he could perhaps finally speak with me out of sight of any other? What other reason would he have climbed so high, to stay but minutes?
It was our secret. I told no other, not even my friends, although Caro knew but mentioned it not. And Estarfin went on to win the Iceball contest by plowing through the opposing team. Surprisingly he came third in the Race, with Caro winning, and he defended his team’s flag that they won the main battle. He received his reward, an engraved mithril knife, and bowed before the Prince and then his parents, but I saw him glance up at the battlements of the stronghold of Thargelion on which I stood. He placed a hand over the arm around which he wore my ribbon, then waved.
* Feasting Interupted. By Estarfin
