Estarfin

The house being pointed out to him by a passer-by, Talkale took in its appearance. It was an ordinary house, two stories high, and nondescript in every way from the others that surrounded it, save that it was much larger, and it had many glazed windows, both indicators of the owner’s wealth. Similar to the other houses, it had a tiled roof and wooden frame, likely red cedar, though he was no whittler, he said to himself with some satisfaction.

“I have offered the ring to Tintallë for her blessing. This is Forodril,” Danel said, showing the ring to Estarfin. “The ring’s stone is made from a rare gem. It has all the colors of the northern sky inside.” 

“It appears I am bound to drink wine all day and night, then,” Parnard declared, folding his arms across his chest. “And then I must close all the shutters of my mind and act as if nobody is home.”

“That should not be difficult,” Belegos quipped.

“Any development with your…predicament?” Belegos asked Parnard as he settled himself on the floor. 

I smiled as soon as I walked into the room, and saw it there on the wall, over the bed. For a moment a different sort of ‘magic’ lifted my spirits. It was good magic. I looked to Estarfin, who was just behind me. 

“Remember?” I said.

And our evening continued, with us standing before the main Hall, and the figure of Tintalle. It was cool but not cold, that we had no wish for thicker cloaks, or to light a fire. We stood and conversed as the hours passed us by.

We four stood by the statue of Tintallë, under her swift-growing starry mantle above. Filignil had just departed to bring water for Belegos to wash his face and hands, and wine for us all. 

“Is it not said, do not ask elves for advice, for we will say both no and yes?” Belegos said with a hint of a grin. 

Estarfin had suggested Parnard slept outside, under the lights of Tintallë. I first thought of the sea, the mantle of Ulmo, for defense.  A different Vala, but the same need for an ally whose will could not be challenged. Oh, I was angry then, at myself for not seeing clearly earlier; with the Sorceress Zairaphel and her petulant tenacity.

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