The Last Days of Thargelion. Part Two: Friends.

(After Part one)

I have never been one for a large gathering of acquaintances, preferring a small number of closer friends. For much of my early life this consisted of Rilye, Hirinde and Caro. 

We met when little more than three years of age. My parents had deemed it wise to employ me a mentor, one Quentaro of Tirion, and considered it beneficial for me not to study alone. To that end, three other children of Lords and Captains were 'recruited'. Each was vetted by my parents, to make sure we would all benefit. We were to learn together, play together, and grow up together. 

I had other friends, of course, but my two 'sisters' and my 'brother' were the closest. 

In most study, it was tall Hirinde and I who oft had the edge; in matters practical Caro the bold, and in art, Rilye of the silver hair. We each encouraged the other, and Quentaro would spend extra time with any who struggled.They were merry days.

We also used to play, in the courtyards, if any were unused, in the meadows beyond Forodhir’s forges, finding wild flowers to make drawings of, and learning to identify herbs for culinary and medicinal uses. In the summer we would swim in the shallows of the Lake, with a couple of guards keeping watch. That was only until all four of us proved our ability. 

We played in the snow in the winter, gathering pine twigs and cones and other foliage to make displays for our families. We would wrap up in our furs and trudge around the outer citadel, and to the gardens to make snow figures, animals and folk alike. We would take turns pulling each other on sledges. Occasionally the Guards would pull us along. (That was at times the Prince was watching, I tended to think.) 

And then we would defend the fortress. 

Now that was great fun, as we imagined ourselves in our father’s roles, protecting the Citadel and forts from attack. Four of us, against hordes of imaginary orcs. We would build a small defensive wall, and pile up snowballs. Caro had a wooden sword, Rilye a wooden shield she would try and hold over us, and Hirinde and I did the long distance firing. Her father was a high ranking Lord among our archers. It seemed to make sense. 

And sometimes the guards would ‘play’ and we would pelt them. Sometimes other children would play, and we would pelt each other. Often our enemies would be imaginary. 

“‘What if huge creatures of fire attacked,” Rilya once asked. “All our defenses and weapons would just melt.” 

“You are thinking of the Balrogs, Quentaro spoke of? They are all held back by the Leaguer. They shall not come here,” I had answered with misplaced confidence. 

“But they still live? What if one escaped?”

“Then our army would slay it,” Caro spoke with conviction. “But Carnefinde is correct. They will not attack us. Not with warriors like us,”

He laughed, and launched a snowball straight into the face of an oncoming group of slightly older children, who immediately took cover. 

“Whoops,” Said Hirinde. 

And we were in a battle royal, with laughter and snowballs and scrambling over defenses. Both would defend the Citadel to the end. 

The guards watched closely, with many a glance to the palace windows. And then one boy from the other group held up his hand and stopped the others. “It’s the Princess,” he said.”We better not risk harming her,” The others mumbled and complained.

“I am no Princess,” I shouted, growing angry and red of face. I stomped my foot, a sign my three friends knew could mean trouble.

The boy shook his head, and looked apologetic. He turned to walk away. Another ran alongside him. “The Captain’s son would not have stopped were he with us,” he said. “Nothing stops him.”

Caro looked up. “Which Captain?

But the other children were all moving away, and I was left to rage at a fun afternoon cut short.

As we grew older we were taught to ride to hunt, to care for and fly birds of prey, to dance….. We all wanted to dance with Caro because we knew him well. He was most happy with the situation. I think he preferred dancing with the lithe Rilye though. Just as well. They ended up some years later getting married.

Hirinde would dance with Rilye’s older brother, and I would try to avoid dancing unless Caro was free. 

Oh, there was nigh panic the time of the Midsummer Ball, when the Prince announced he would  dance with me. My tutors realised they had permitted me to be lax. So I endured two weeks of intensive dance training, dawn till dusk, to make sure I did not let them down. 

I would not have let him down either. By then there were only three I would consider dancing with; he, my father, and that son of the Captain. 

At that time, one of our favourite events was our seasonal ride out to the Fortress-town of Nen Turyande, situated a short distance from where the arms of the Gelion joined. 

Caro only rode with us once. As we grew older he was spending more time with our best masons. We missed his company, but we three were still able to enjoy our outings.

It was usually safe to ride out on the plains. There were patrols. There were forts, and we travelled lightly armed. Though none of us were military minded, we had all been taught how to defend ourselves, how to give battle at need. We wore light leathers under more ‘feminine’ robes, and always carried horns to summon aid. 

The best was the springtime. We would ride to the lesser Gelion and wade in its waters. We would look for the new flowers, and make sketches. We would race each other under the wide blue sky, and look for birds in flight. Always we had a spot where we would take lunch, a picnic by the waters. And then as the sun descended, we would make for Nen Turyande and a regular hostelry in which to sleep. It was a time to be ‘grown up’ and yet still young. Away from our families, had we been foolish we could have got into danger. But we were well trained. We were daughters of our people.

(Picture by Estarfin, with thanks.)