Estarfin

Midsummer was quickly approaching, and to Parnard’s surprise, Danel and Estarfin expected a huge feast, complete with dancing on the grass, despite the attack on Númenstaya and the killing of Aearlinn. He wondered secretly at this, but made no remark or protest, reminding himself that since it is a high feast day, a day set apart as one of the most hallowed days of the Elven calendar, the Noldor would not permit anything to disrupt their celebration, least of all a group of murdering, bloodthirsty, pillaging men.

Folk were talking, whispering almost confidentially as I passed them at the stables.

“That is Filignil. She was at Numenstaya,” 

“That is their Housekeeper. Why is she in Imladris?”

And Parnard passed Ruineth on the path, giving her a very wide berth. 

I waved a greeting to our Mirkwood friend, and Estarfin nodded to him.

“We are ready to ride, Parnard,” I said.

(This takes place before 'A New Dress' by Parnard )

After grieving some time at the place where Aearlinn was buried, Parnard lifted his head, and taking Marawendi by the hand, walked down a path to a small house beside a crystal-clear lake. Beside the house was a small stone gazebo of the whitest marble, its top and sides hanging thick with a canopy of pink roses and white jasmine, their flowers just opening from the rising sun, that provided a sweet-smelling and delightful shade during the hottest hours of the afternoon.

Estarfin walked over to stand before me, even as Parnard ran from the hall, all but dragging the sobbing Marawendi behind him. There was a mixture of controlled rage and concern on his face. 

“Do not blame yourself,” he said, knowing my thoughts.