Estarfin opened his mouth to speak, but then looked away. “We should make preparations,” he said softly. But that was not his original thought.
I tilted my head and reached out to him again, “What is it?” I asked, sensing his reticence.
He looked back at me, but appeared almost pained.
“What were you going to say? Nothing can be that bad that you cannot tell me.” I said, my expression softening at his seeming distress.
“It is the wrong time to speak of it,” Estarfin spoke swiftly, “with what is happening here. But …you know that Midsummer approaches rapidly…”
‘Midsummer!’ Of course I knew. One year almost, since what I counted as the most blessed day of my life so far. How could I not know? Yes, the Midwinter day we were betrothed came a very close second in importance to me, but last Midsummer was the day we had both admitted what was in our hearts.
‘Do not waste this time we have together in peace with regret,’ he had said at that time, as we began our music-less dance together. ‘I am here, you are here. It is more than enough.’ And it was. For that time he was the only other one in my world. We danced to our memories of music played in Thargelion, as we would have danced there had fate permitted us to live out our young lives together.
Perhaps he was recollecting the same moments, for he continued to regard me with a wistful longing. We both would have dearly liked to celebrate this midsummer, but after what had just happened….?
I sighed, feeling somewhat crestfallen. Finally I answered him. “It is very different from last year. We could have held celebrations even at short notice from our return from Mirkwood. But with Aearlinn lost…..”
Estarfin bowed his head deeply to me. “I understand.” There was no recrimination in his voice.
I looked up at him, awash with denied hopes of my own, and wondered what Aearlinn would say, if she could? I could almost hear her gentle voice offering comfort. ‘Love far outweighs hate,” she would have said. “Let ‘love’ be my epitaph, my gift to you.”
It could not be as we would have liked, all at Numenstaya had heaviness in their hearts, yet ‘she’ was right. “Estarfin,” I stepped to stand before him, no longer unsure. “You are here, I am here… it…is more than enough. We may not feel like making merry, but we can still honour life, can we not?”
He looked at me with a questioning gaze, but as I moved to rest my head against his chest, he understood, and wrapped an arm about me to hold me close.
“It is hard to think even a day ahead, just now. But I know you make me happy, and that my life would be a meager thing without you. I believe Aearlinn would approve. She would rather we were merry if we could be?”
“Of course. Yes,” he said, as he rested his chin against my head.
“It would be good to try and give heart to the others,” I continued, not wanting to move my position. “I know not what provisions we have left, but most food supplies are in this hall, and so untouched by the Men. I believe we still have seventy-four bottles of Limael’s wine from the Autumn festival.” I tilted my head back to see his reaction.
He smiled, a little halfheartedly perhaps, but he was also thinking of what we could do for the day.
“We cannot hold a proper hunt this year, there is little time, and we should not endanger hunters nor leave Numenstaya unprotected. But we could set out a table or two nigh Parnard’s house? The view is pleasing, and we can still watch the road that no visitors take us unaware.”
Such a sad necessity, but we were still vulnerable, and keeping watch was wise. “I shall cook.” I suggested. “Parnard will likely help or even organise matters. And perhaps Marawendi too? I believe she is a promising maker of sauces? That can make a lot of difference, you know.”
“I have not seen him, or her, in the last day or so.” Estarfin said in a matter-of-fact manner, though a shadow passed momentarily over his features.
“Nor have I. He was badly shaken.” My thoughts went to Parnard and Marawendi, and their terrible ‘welcome’ at Numenstaya. I wanted to try and make matters better for them soon. I knew neither were in direct danger, but I needed Marawendi in particular to feel safe. I also wanted to make matters better for Estarfin and I. Moving my arms around his waist, as I had before Curumaito disturbed us, I said “A celebration may help take Parnard’s mind off Brasseniel? I think he is doing quite well in that respect, but I cannot tell what he truly feels. It was badly dealt with in Mirkwood. We should be aware of that; we should be discreet?”
Estarfin nodded his head, “But is celebrating right?” he asked again.
I disentangled my arms and rather reluctantly took a couple of steps back from him, so I could clearly see his expression. He sighed. I thought then that he was looking for reasons to hope.
“Beloved, we both hope for some marking of Midsummer, do we not?. We know it cannot be as last year was, but it can be enough, given the situation.” I spoke earnestly, holding fast to my own hopes. “Every Midsummer to come, we will have the choice to mourn what happened here, or to celebrate the life we have. What have survivors of Gondolin done throughout the millennia? They remember the horror that befell them, but they also remember what their celebrations were for. Celebrating life is merrier than mourning. Though we mourn when our hearts are grieved, and I shall mourn Aearlinn for a long time to come, I cannot think she would not want us happy given the chance? And I would also rather she was remembered with joy, for that honours her most. Do not give way to despair, for such is not your way. We have a future I wish to see …challenging though it may be, we shall face it together. It is right that we honour the fallen, but also that we fully live our lives.”
Breaking from his pondering, Estarfin’s gaze intensified. “I understand. It is settled then.”
There was another short silence, then he asked “Would it be improper to dance again? As we did last year?” His eyes were bright again, hopeful.
“It would be improper not to, I believe,” I replied, reaching out a hand to him.
He smiled and took it in his.
We did not dance often, but we had danced a few times out under the stars. It was something I delighted in. What could be better?
“The usual music?” he asked with a smile.
“The very same, meldanya.”
He drew me closer, and we danced as if it was for the first time. The music of the Prince’s Ball in Thargelion was in our minds and steps, that we moved as one. And I thought how much more I enjoyed the dance than smiting the dummies earlier. I was happy, and he knew it.
“We have not had much time alone together,” I said softly. “Not since our betrothal. When all this is over I would like us to return to that beach again.”
He smiled openly at the memory. So did I.
“Not that I shall ever encourage you into cold water again,” I added, knowing his great dislike for such.
“No, only on a summer eve from now on,” he turned me in an elegant circle, then halted.
I smiled, laying a hand on his cheek for a moment.
“A summer’s eve?” I asked.
“I am glad we spoke tonight. I do not want to forget what we still have in the face of …all.” He spoke as he felt, but he was also taking a moment to think over what I had just said.
I nodded, still smiling. “It is for us to make time for joy,” I said softly, my own heart racing again. “And swimming on a hot summer evening would be ...joyful?”
I knew he may still consider it unseemly, but there was a crescent moon and stars over the lake, and reflected in it. I thought it would be a perfect way to celebrate together before Tintalle, and without possibly upsetting Parnard.
He lowered his gaze a moment and laughed. “As you wish.”
~~~
We had swum in that lake at the Autumn Festival, and the water had been freezing so that he could not stop shaking. It had taken several hours and plenty of fortified wine to thaw him out. This time I led him by the hand to the water’s edge. Kicking off my shoes, I stepped in myself then let go of him so that I could submerge. He watched me carefully.
“Pleasantly refreshing,” I said as I surfaced, setting loose my hair and splashing a little water at him with my hand. “Feel for yourself.”
He nodded, his gaze lingering, but he did not move.
“What is wrong?”
He looked up at the stars for a moment, the majesty of Tintalle. She had spread her mantle wide for us that night that the inky blackness was filled with heavenly celebrants. It seemed as if he was addressing her.
“Estarfin? I know this is a thin dress, but I can leave the water after you so that you do not have to look at me?” It mattered not, he was my betrothed, my husband to be. But I would not make him feel in any way awkward, as I had inadvertently done at that beach.
I turned to swim to the waterfall, to give him some privacy addressing the Lady of the Stars in a place where we were both shielded from the view of the other by the rocks. The water was cool, but also deeply cleansing. I splashed a little into the air, watching a myriad of starlit droplets descend. In the face of such beauty how could I hold onto hate? I felt as if we were in another world, our own ‘Valinor’?
“Estarfin?”
I swam back a little towards the shore, but he was not there.
Before I even had time to wonder, there was movement through the water, flowing black hair as he surfaced in front of me, and wiped the water from his eyes.
“You swim well!” I said with astonishment, recalling the times when I thought I had gone to his aid. “And you acted as if….”
“..I could not swim at all?”
His arms were about me, holding me fast, and as I tilted my face to his for a second time that night, there was no need for words…save for ‘ouch’, as we bumped noses.
