Estarfin

Having ridden with urgent speed from Celondim, the elf dismounted before his horse could even come to a halt.

“I thought you were concerned before we reached Angmar, cousin?” I questioned Parnard. 

“I was concerned for those Halflings; those men threatened to tear them to pieces if we did not lay down our weapons.”

I left Estarfin and Earcalië catching up on news as they sat on the sands. It was time to bring out at least some provisions, and most definitely time to bring out some wine. I walked to the kitchen, where Estarfin had left the large basket he had brought from the local inn. Yes, there were fresh bread sticks in it, sliced meat, roast boar and several pieces of roast chicken.

“I am so sorry I did not send a message. It was a very small and private ceremony, after a difficult year. But I still should have let you know.” I explained as best I could. It was not the whole truth, for we had made our final choice of a time rather swiftly, and knew not where to send a message as Earcalië was oft on the road. 

After dinner that evening we sat in the main room, candles giving a flickering golden ambiance to the walls, and spoke of our trip to Forlond. 

The afternoon found us taking a short tour of the main streets. I was trying to show Estarfin the places and views I was most fond of. There was the Central Library, down on the island between the falls, the Scholars Enclave, whose steps I had climbed  very many times, and there was the Gem Smith’s quarter.