“Gaerion, now is not the time for this,”I said in warning.
Gaerion nodded that he had heard me, but replied to Estarfin, “Is the thought of Valinor beyond a simple Wood-elf? Of course not. But it is rare for those of the deep forest to be interested in what lies beyond the Great Sea. They made their choice.”
Parnard’s scowl deepened as he sensed the shift in Estarfin’s temper, a spark that caught and fueled his own resentment. “Is that so, Gaerion of Alcla…Alqualondë. What you should concern yourself with is not my grasp of geography, but these Corsairs who harry our coast!”
Estarfin sighed softly and sipped at his wine. Another bottle or two would likely be required, but he was maintaining his control. In a strange show of defiance, Parnard hoisted his boots on the marble tabletop, as if to say our guest’s presence was utterly beneath his notice, and he cared no longer to uphold basic etiquette.
I was disappointed in him, in all three of them! “Gaerion, thank you for your commission. You shall be more than satisfied with Estarfin’s work. But come now, walk with me outside.”
Gaerion raised his hand. “Just a little longer, Carnifindë. Parnard makes a valid point about Corsairs, though only two of their ships have been seen of late.”
I nodded. My own mood was worsening as I looked from Parnard to Estarfin and back again. “I invited a friend to the house and you are both uncivil to him! What has gotten into you?” I snapped.
“‘Uncivil’?” Estarfin turned to look me in the eyes.
“I have told him many times in the past how important you both are to me. That you have my full trust in all matters. Why this antagonism?”
Estarfin met the question with a frown and a locked jaw. Parnard rushed to fill the void, speaking in sudden heat, “I tire of these rude, scholarly types, looking down their long noses at me telling me I am this or that!”
Of course! He was still irked by Talkale. During his recent visit, the Imladris librarian dismissed Parnard as an uneducated dullard.
“Well, I am no scholar, but a sailor and a silversmith. And I am afraid I cannot help but look down on many folk due to my height,” Gaerion said with an amused glance at the much shorter Wood-elf. “Though I believe we may yet see ‘eye-to-eye’ -? I have not sought to be rude to any.”
“You called me Avari!” Parnard said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I will have you know some folk call me High Lord!”
Gaerion sighed and rose to his feet. “For whatever reason unknown to me, it appears I bring discord into this home. I am unwelcome here, and I do not wish to inconvenience you any longer.” He inclined his head to Estarfin. “Yet the commission stands: I wish to purchase the best weaponry for my crew.”
Estarfin also rose from his chair. The two neri did, in fact, see eye-to-eye. “You are a guest of Danel’s. You are welcome here,” he said.
“My thanks, but I can speak elsewhere and at another time with Carnifindë without giving offense.” Gaerion turned to me. “My apologies to you. I have no ill-will to anyone here. We shall speak again soon; in truth the Uinenlindë will be Corsair hunting again as soon as possible. Saying thus, ‘soon’ may be a few months. “
I walked with him to the door. Once outside I took his hands in a gesture of apology. “Truly, Parnard and Estarfin are usually not like this.”
He nodded. “All is well. I needed to know more about them, and they did not disappoint my expectations. I did not speak the total truth to them, you understand.”
I tilted my head to one side, wondering what he meant. Gaerion was usually meticulous about truth. But then Barahirn stepped forward, leading his horse and addressing him in a proper manner.
“Good hunting, then,” I said as I waved farewell.
Back at the house I found Parnard and Estarfin drinking wine at a prodigious rate. Neither seemed very happy, nor was I very happy with them. Estarfin looked up at me as I took my seat at the table. I folded my hands, my expression unreadable to most. “I do not understand. Gaerion asked questions, but he wanted to meet you both. What did he do wrong?”
“And he did - get to meet us both.” Estarfin replied, his gaze meeting mine.
“There was something about his manner. He was insinuating something,” grumbled Parnard.
“Cousin, he is not Talkale,” I stated bluntly, thinking that was at the heart of Parnard’s actions.
“He called me ‘Avari’ - hmpf! Is it his place to go about calling people this or that? He had only just met us. What sort of fellow does that?”
“I call you Wood-elf, or friend, or my Cousin. I am not offering offense,” I began to explain.
“He said, ‘You would not be interested in such-and-such because you are Avari’, did he not?”
I sighed. Parnard was like a dog with a bone on the ‘Avari’ matter. “Gaerion said he believed you would not be interested as you are a member of a Kindred that chose to remain here, when a choice was offered. He was not implying you are of a lesser sort,” I told him.
Parnard folded his arms. “You would not understand, Maiden of the Tower.”
Estarfin frowned, obviously realising what a bad move Parnard had just made, and was probably steeling himself for another lecture from me on why I was not a Maiden of the Tower.
“It is true that I lived in a tower when I was very young. But for very many years I was homeless, dwelling with the riders of Ambarussa wherever they went.” That was enough for Parnard to know, I thought. I could speak for hours on the matter if I wished. “But to get to the point, I am disappointed in you both.”
“Disappointed?” said Estarfin in surprise.
“Your actions were ungracious. Never did I think you capable of that, meldayna, save with a Man.”
“He was welcome here, despite what he is.” There was a flame smouldering in Estarfin’s eyes. I did understand, I had invited one who would have slain Noldor in that harbour, had he not been overpowered*. But I had vouched for him as ‘friend’.
“Very well,” I said with a sigh. “I shall not subject you to my ‘friend’ again, but travel to Celondim or Mithlond if I would speak with him.”
“I did not say I do not like him,” muttered Parnard.
Estarfin sat up straight on his chair. “Do not go alone,” he said.
“I do as I choose,” I replied ungraciously, and bit my tongue as soon as I had said it. He had lost me but recently, and it had taken much from him and several others to see Parnard and I returned home.
“You would come with me, despite what he is?” I asked Estarfin.
“Falmari. He is of the Falmari.””
“Yes, he is of the Falmari, one of those who transported the Vanyar and Noldor hosts from Aman, to battle here. One of the very few of his kind to set foot on these shores and try and rescue all he could. What have the Falmari ever done, save die on our swords?” That last part wasn’t quite true and I knew it. I was becoming angry with myself for being angry.
“You think they did not hold spears, have bows, or take up boathooks? You think that their hands are clean of our blood?” Again, he held my gaze. ‘I was being unreasonable.’ he seemed to be thinking.
“Gaerion trained as a silver-smith in Alqualonde, and in Tirion for a time.” I continued, wanting to defend my friend, but feeling as if I was wading through sinking sand. “My kin there knew him. Mahtan knew him and treated him as a friend. It is my thought that something that happened so long ago, that has long been forgiven by them, should not have brought such a reaction from you this day.”
Estarfin rose from his chair to regard me steadily, as if trying to bring understanding to us both. “I offered neither insult nor challenge. I hold myself blameless in this.”
“Your tone offered insult, if not your words,” I whispered, then I turned angrily to Parnard. He was holding his head in his hands, eyes closed, his elbows propped up on the table. “Cousin, you took Gaerion’s words concerning Avari as an insult, and until a moment ago I would have told you that was not his meaning. ‘Avari’ is not an insult to anyone. But at this moment I perceive how words can be taken as insults both when they are, and when they are not.” If Estarfin had outwardly maintained manners, though inwardly thought to provoke, may not Gaerion have done likewise? And it struck me; Gaerion's un-truth. He had meant to provoke a little.
“Am I to remain here as…as a…” Parnard paused, the words heavy and uncertain. “Piece of fruit?” he murmured.
“Parnard, you may come and go as you wish, you know that. And neither of us have ever considered you to be a piece of fruit.” Not a piece of fruit at all, but a silent observer of an argument between two Noldor was what he meant. Neither of us wished to distress him.
“Fruit?” asked Estarfin in confusion..
Parnard answered, “Like a thing that just sits there, a lump, while people speak ill of me. I abided by the rules of hospitality, did I not, Estarfin friend?” His eyes moved entreatingly to search Estarfin’s face.
Had I believed he was truly being insulted I would have said something to Gaerion, far stronger than what Parnard had said. But he was mistaken over the word ‘Avari’ and seemed unwilling to listen to the explanation. I shook my head. “You both knew this visit meant a lot to me.”
Estarfin rose to his feet. “That does not seem helpful.” He could plainly see I was still angry. Was he referring to my temper?
Parnard bolted to his feet and retreated behind his chair, his eyes darting towards the door. Before he could flee, I had to clarify what Gaerion had meant. “Please understand, Gaerion’s use of ‘Avari’ was not meant as any insult. Not any more than naming me of the Noldor, or himself as a Teler. ‘Avari’ simply means those elves who refused to leave the land they loved- they were not fools, nor uneducated or uncivilised. It was a misunderstanding. And I shall be very careful who I invite here in future.”
“I do not expect you to understand my vexation,” replied Parnard. “You are Noldor. To refer to someone as one of the Avari is to say that he is a dark, benighted elf, one not of the light, who does dark deeds, who is unlearned and uncouth…and who, because of their forefathers’ actions, are not of the light, and never will be, for the Trees are gone.”
I sighed deeply.
“Avari are therefore unequal to the other elves, and will ever be.”
I shook my head. “That is not so. We are all one people, with different clans and kindreds, but we are one! Not seeing the Trees does not mean never seeing the Light. Were all the children born in Valinor, after the Trees were destroyed, Dark Elves? No. Some of the Second and Third kindred chose to remain. They became Dark Elves, not seeing the light of Valinor, but neither becoming base and unlearned. ‘Dark’ does not mean simple nor evil. It means preferring to live under the stars, and in the depth of the forests.”
Parnard’s green-eyed glance flickered over us. “You Noldor do not know what it is like not to be Noldor.”
Well I could not debate that, though I had at times considered such. “I am sorry for that, Cousin,” I replied. ”But we had no more choice where we were born than you did.” I turned to Estarfin. “I respect your right to dislike my friend. I shall not invite him again.”
“He is welcome here,” Estarfin repeated.
“We will welcome him,” Parnard said at the same time.
“You are a Noldo,” I said to Estarfin. “You know how high our standards are, even to visitors we dislike. Remember Prince Curufin and Eöl.”
“He was a Dark Elf, and the Noldor did not like him,” Parnard volunteered.
“Why do you say such things?” Estarfin said to me, holding my gaze for a moment, then he scowled and began to irritably pick at leftover food on his plate.
Now I was feeling angry, embarrassed and ashamed. And I was also very tired. “Would you like more wine?” I asked them, as I noticed the two empty bottles on the floor beside Estarfin’s chair.
Parnard shook his head. Parnard refused wine. Was that not a first? He really was not himself.
“Then tell me please, where am I in error, Estarfin. Where am I wrong, for I would learn?”
He looked up and shrugged, not having an answer.
“Then perhaps we shall rest and try for a better day tomorrow.” I hated going to bed with a ‘disagreement’ unresolved. I would find no rest.
“How did you come to know this fellow? Noldor and Teleri are strange companions, from what little I know of the matter,” Parnard said.
“Gaerion left his ship to save my grandmother’s life, among others. He protected her through the War of Wrath, though she was no mean wielder of her sword. My own parents were dead by then. He found me among the Riders, and watched over me as if he was my father, or grandfather. He saved my life on a couple of occasions. He has only ever shown me fatherly kindness and love.”
Estarfin stopped playing with his food and looked up at me, irritation fading from his expression. “He watched over you?”
“When my own father and my Prince could not. Yes, one of the Falmari kept me safe. He always has, when he was able. He serves Cirdan here for now. Last I saw and spoke with him was around nine years ago.”
I noticed how carefully Parnard watched Estarfin, to see if my words meant anything to the laconic Noldo.
“He came off his ship then to care for your grandmother, Istarnie, and you?”
“And a few other descendents of Mahtan. He gave the Smith of Tirion his word.”
Parnard cleared his throat and spoke. “I must beg your forgiveness, Danel. Gaerion is more than a friend; he is family. I - misunderstood his meaning.”
Relief washed over me as I took Parnard’s hands, almost moving me to tears. “He was with me when he could be, in Eregion and the struggle there, and then he and my grandmother helped build Imladris. He has long suffered my folly and listened to my dreams.” I turned to Estarfin. “He knows much of you, beloved. He has sat through many of my tales. And it was he who encouraged me to write back to you, when we were both in Forlond, and I received that letter you wrote, asking why I had not said ‘Farewell’ to you.”
Estarfin sighed. That exchange of letters had led us to where we now were.
“The Teleri carried our armies to these shores, but very few would step ashore. He had made an oath to Mahtan and to my grandmother. He is the nearest I have long had to a father. I invited him because I wanted to tell him to sail home when he will. He waits upon my decision, to sail West or not. He would wait as long as necessary. I wanted him to see he leaves me in good company, and that my choice is made. I choose to remain here, with those I love.”
“I will do as you suggest and seek my bed, and wake in a less churlish mood,” Parnard said. Knowing full-well that he was back in my good graces (as if he had ever left them!) my Wood-elf friend cast an abashed look around the room, then bowed to us and hurried away. I managed to catch him in a quick hug as he passed by.
Estarfin sat silent in thought for a few moments more, but the awkwardness of silence between us was gone. “You may do as you wish here,” he said. “This is your house. You may have whoever you wish pay visit.” He was making a statement. There was no anger in his words or eyes.
I knew what he was implying. “You know full well, meldanya, that all that I have is ‘ours’,” I replied. “This house and homestead, anything remaining of an inheritance, is your home, as well as Parnard’s.”
He inclined his head in concession, not in the mood to make more of an issue of it.
“Do you not work with me to build this place? Do you not freely share your skills, and anything else you choose to share, with all who dwell here?”
He stretched out his long legs before him and relaxed just a little more into the chair. “I do not like his kind,” he said softly but straightforwardly. “Like you, I was raised to consider the Falmari false friends at need, and slayers of our kindred. That was the main view of those in Thargelion, was it not?”
I nodded. Some few held that we and they were equally at fault, that the first kinslaying was an act spun from the lies and hate of Melkor, whom our King named Morgoth. My own parents held that the Falmari were first to draw blood with their arrows.
“My mother was always most loyal to King Fëanor,” said Estarfin. “She told me many tales concerning him. He asked for aid from ones he believed ‘friends’, and was refused. Friends who Finwë had so desired to join us, and had our folk aid much in the building of Alqualondë when they finally arrived. Yet they would not loan us their ships even to pursue Finwë’s murderer.”
I moved closer to him. “I know. My parents loved our King as well. And I understand…about him being one who placed our parents and leaders in an act of slaughter. But we change over time, and in different situations. Once a Kinslayer does not mean always a Kinslayer,” I dared to say.
Estarfin sighed deeply. “As I said, I do not like his kind. But I did not know what he was to you. For that alone, I should apologise.” He brushed off his clothing, as if tidying himself after some skirmish, or preparing for travel.
“You cannot be at fault for something you knew not.” I reached over to him. He took my hand for a moment.
“Where has he ridden to? Celondim?”
“Mithlond,” I replied. His ship is moored there for two more weeks. He consults with Lord Cirdan.” And I knew in that moment what Estarfin intended to do. ‘Artanaro’, noble fire. Yes, he could misunderstand as well as anyone, but he was honourable nonetheless.
“I must speak with him soon, so that he knows he may sail West whenever he chooses. He will be missed, but he has fulfilled all his oaths, and is free to return to his home.”
“Of course.” Estarfin walked towards the door, taking up his cloak and gauntlets. “I must go and apologise to him now. “
“I will not leave these lands, I will not leave you, you know,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. It might prove to be a discussion for another time, but in my mind it was impossible that I would ever sail West and leave Estarfin behind.
He gently ran his fingers through my hair. “That is for another day, Racarnë. And only when all hope is lost.”
Then he turned to the door, pausing a moment to grab the remaining loaf of bread from the table, and left the house, heading for the stables.
*.Long Ago and Far Away. | The Laurelin Archives
