A Dance of Years

Estarfin smiled at the scene before his eyes; Parnard and Danel, dancing together in the mid-day sun. He raised his glass in a toast.

"Estarfin must dance too, but not with me!" Parnard called out, laughing as he danced upon the green sward. Estarfin raised his eyebrows at the suggestion and held up his hands to politely refuse the offer, but then Danel turned and held her slim pale hand out to his. Estarfin could not refuse such an invitation, and so pulled himself to his feet and brushed the grass from his dark robes. Although it had been many years since he last danced, he remembered the steps well enough.

Danel and Estarfin danced together for what felt like only minutes as the sun travelled across the sky; noon to afternoon, afternoon to evening. Parnard and Filginel passed the time happily with wine, food, and then the delight of sleep under a warm sun after such indulgence. Yet for Estarfin and Danel for that time at least, they may as well have been the last of the firstborn in Middle Earth, or the first awoken at Cuiviénen, for to them there existed no other on that blessed Midsummer day.