Estarfin

Folk were talking, whispering almost confidentially as I passed them at the stables.

“That is Filignil. She was at Numenstaya,” 

“That is their Housekeeper. Why is she in Imladris?”

And Parnard passed Ruineth on the path, giving her a very wide berth. 

I waved a greeting to our Mirkwood friend, and Estarfin nodded to him.

“We are ready to ride, Parnard,” I said.

(This takes place before 'A New Dress' by Parnard )

After grieving some time at the place where Aearlinn was buried, Parnard lifted his head, and taking Marawendi by the hand, walked down a path to a small house beside a crystal-clear lake. Beside the house was a small stone gazebo of the whitest marble, its top and sides hanging thick with a canopy of pink roses and white jasmine, their flowers just opening from the rising sun, that provided a sweet-smelling and delightful shade during the hottest hours of the afternoon.

Estarfin walked over to stand before me, even as Parnard ran from the hall, all but dragging the sobbing Marawendi behind him. There was a mixture of controlled rage and concern on his face. 

“Do not blame yourself,” he said, knowing my thoughts. 

“Well met, Sogadan. Remember us?” Danel said to the Vintner of Imladris. The hour was late; the great Hall of Fire was almost empty, without the usual hum of subdued voices, and the elves’ entrance was marked by few of the Valley denizens.

My heart was lightened when Estarfin pushed open the double doors to the outside world. The exit from Moria had been on my mind. I could remember the entry password, a simple utterance of the word ‘friend’, but I could not recall one for departing.