Another Wrecked Room?

The second set of images I have happened some few years later. It was after Dol Guldur, after I had left Imladris to attend my injured Grandmother at the coast. It was after we had sought each other out again, and indeed, finally understood that we wanted to be together. It was at Numenstaya, the home and sanctuary we were building, with aid from some others. 

Was it actually a wrecking or merely an 'accident'. Whatever it was, I was again unintentionally the cause. Or perhaps it was 'we'?

Now I had been riding towards the Halfling's lands, to give a restless Arhel some exercise. On the way, I came upon something unexpected...a Woman, singing and sometimes playing her flute, while mounted on a fine, dark brown horse. More than that, I recognised  from her appearance, her outfit and her horse as a Woman of the Eastern lands of Rohan. Very few of the Secondborn travelled in Lindon, especially this near to the coast. But she looked most tired, though of hardy stock she undoubtedly was. Why was she here?

So I stopped to speak with her.

She was not afeared of me, not that she had aught to fear, but regarded me with her large blue eyes and some hope.

"You are an Elf!" she announced.

"And you are not."

"Hildfrith of the Mark," she continued. "I am lost." 

"That you are, daughter of the Horse Lords," I replied, "that it appears you wish to take ship into the uttermost West?"

She raised a brow, then continued in a broken Westron. "Nay, lady. I have no desire to seek the Elvish Homelands, nor even these lands. I look for Bree Town. I am a cook and Tavern Keep, separated from my group."

I laughed, though not unkindly. "You shall not find any mortal town hereabouts. Let me show you the true direction, though it is some leagues off the path that you have wandered."

She smiled, and her cheeks flushed, almost as mine did when embarrassed. Come to think of it, her hair was red like mine, though of a slightly fairer hue.  

All was well up to that point, for my thoughts took a 'strange' turn. We were but a short ride from Numenstaya. Were she an Elf I would have naturally invited her there to refresh herself and her horse. 

But she was of the Race of Man.

I should have thought more on that.I knew how Estarfin regarded all Secondborn, yet for a  very short time my thought was not on him. 

"Look, Hildfrith of the Mark, you are very far from home. Return with me to my nearby home, take refreshment, rest your horse a little, and I will draw you a map. Perhaps, in return, you could teach one of my good friends a few notes on the flute? He would play, but as yet has not got far."

She agreed, though a touch warily. Better it would have been had she not.

Back home we were met by a rather surprised Barahirn. He had given me warning looks, but he took our horses nonetheless. Filignil was another matter. She was polite, but gave one of her best 'sour lemons' looks. "She should not be here!"

And, over late, it struck me full in the chest. 'Estarfin, how by the Valar was I to explain her to him?'

To cut the rest of the tale short, he was to arrive but a few minutes later. He took one look at Hildfrith, returned to his rooms and then came back to us with a sword. As it transpired, Hildfrith was fortunate to escape with her life.

Some time after I had stood at the door of his room. A window was smashed, there were broken ornaments and pictures on the floor, a headless figure of King Finwe could be seen. There was much soil from an overturned plant on the floor. "I sighed with sorrow. It was my disregard that brought this about.

"You caused this, Lady Danel," Filignil had said as she also entered the room. "You, and Estarfin's temper. It could have been far worse I suppose. He was fast, and had so much anger."

"So much pain that I betrayed him," I countered. For that was the truth. He would have been angry with anyone who brought back a mortal..but me? I knew him. I had known what his reaction would be.

Filignil was flushed with a rare temper of her own. "It was ill done, Lady, and to one who has made himself vulnerable to you."

There it was again, I had hurt him by acting with disrespect. Had I wanted a mild mannered, passionless fop of a ner in my life, well I was looking in the wrong place. 

Of course, in a little time the matter was calmed down. He wrongly accepted all the blame, though after a little more time I managed to persuade him that we shared it.

But I had wounded him badly. Never again, I thought then. I wanted not someone who would put up with all manner of things. I wanted him!

The twist in the tale was that, when we went to tidy the room he said he had been in a rage, but he had not wrecked the room. Rather, in his fell mood he had tripped over the potted plant and knocked into a low table that sent an ornament flying through the window. It had been a rare series of accidents caused by his clumsiness....caused by his pain? (Which had been caused by me.). I believed him. Truth or not, I believed him. 

Picture by Estarfin

Fey and Fiery. Part two

A Poisonous Splinter