Parnard observed the cup being handed to Estarfin by Daegond and saw Lord Veryacano's smile of favor. The scene stung his heart to the core. It was bitterer than any poisonous dart or dark fantasy of his, and stirred it up to a burning wrath, for it was fueled by hatred, jealousy and revenge. His emotions were in a great turmoil, and it was more than his overfull heart could bear.
His face was livid white and he was breathless, as if he had just run a race. Parnard was surprised to find himself standing on his feet, his sword clenched tightly in his fist. Everyone was looking at him, their features hard as stone. Fool! his mind screamed to his heart. Do not provoke these murderous Noldor! You cannot contend successfully with them. Forget it for now, be calm! Put your sword down: you look ridiculous with it.
He flourished his sword in a bizarre salute to Veryacano before lowering it to his feet to draw delicate patterns of frost-flowers in the rime with its tip. “Great lord," he stammered out, "I would like to say a few words, in honor of this occasion." Parnard struggled to get his temper under control and thought hard of what to say next. “I feel...certain that, in future days, when I look back on this time, I might decide to think that my visit among you may or may not have been as, well, expected, as you or I...expected.” Parnard narrowed his cold green eyes, scanning the Hammers' faces. “Truly, I was not certain what to expect, for I have never met such,” he paused, searching to find a fitting word for Estarfin, “unexpected elves before in all my life! But it may be the case that I have not found you as I expected you to be, and it might be true that you do not find me as you would expect me to be – that is, if you had expected me to be anything at all.
But perhaps, in your very generous and gracious hearts,” he said wryly, inclining his head at Nirhen, "you may ask yourselves in disappointed expectation, ‘What else did we expect, after all?’ Perhaps, perhaps, you may have expected something more!” His voice floated high and raspy on the wind. “Oh, but one should always keep in mind not too expect so much, else he will be sorely disappointed! Or perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, it was all he ever expected, or even less than this limited expectation itself! In this case, if I may be so bold, I might suggest to you fine folk always to remember not to expect too little, for one just never knows what to expect, does he? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!” His harsh, screechy laughter died quickly in his throat, and he grew sober again, the far-away gleam entering his eyes. He paused several moments before concluding, his voice lowered to a growling whisper, “How very unexpected it is that we are so unlike what we expected ourselves, and each other, to be!”
Parnard sat down hurriedly; his head bowed, and did not speak for the rest of the evening.
