I walked out of the Halls, aware of the heavy wooden door swinging closed and the guards bidding us farewell.
Hingalas was saying ‘He has fine wine, does he not,” and Parnard replying, “He does indeed. Well! I can say I have met Lord Cirdan. I will tell all the Greenwood elves of this day. They will believe me, I think….”
Then my Wood Elf friend turned at the bottom of the steps to address me. “Cousin, did you receive your answer?”
“No. Not yet, Maybe never!” I uttered. (Whereas in fact, I had.)
Parnard looked a little taken aback, but in my mind I was searching the streets of Tirion and the shadow raced me in that land of light.
“Alright cousin. He did seem to say he wished Estarfin friend would ask for himself.” Parnard’s voice dispersed that particular vision. I stood trembling slightly.
“Perhaps he will ask him?” Parnard continued.
I was still shaking my head. “No,” I stated, against the declining summons.”I think not.”
The terrible battle of wills faded, as I felt the ‘call’ retreat. Bright vision and dark persecution both melted into the cooling night air. I looked to the stars for aid.
“Cirdan has left his door ajar,” I managed to finally reply to Parnard.
Hingalas looked back up the steps.
Parnard nodded. “Very gracious of him.”
“I think it’s closed, Lady,” Hingalas intervened with an apologetic look.
Parnard laughed a little under his breath. “Hingalas, you have been cooped up ever long making that steel cable.”
The Sea Elf did not answer, but climbed back up the steps and tapped the door. “Yes. It’s closed.”
I smiled at them both. I had ‘seen’ both of them in the Distant Land. That should have reassured me of their fates, but it did not. It came upon me like a slow slithering serpent that none near me may be safe from what hunted me?
Was it not recorded, “On the House of Feanor the wrath of the Valar lieth, from the West unto the Uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also.” (1)
Estarfin and I were born into the houses of those who followed Feanor. And Parnard followed us?
“Now you must oil your creation daily?” Parnard was saying.
“Indeed Lord,” Hingalas replied, looking serious for a moment.
The shadow in my mind was back. It spread, forming itself into a large net, like the one Parnard had earlier suggested. It rose of its own volition, poised to engulf those two unwary friends.
“You need find an assistant.” Parnard advised. “Get him to do the oiling. Or her. A lady could oil the cables, I think, just as well…”
I wanted to cry out for aid. I wanted to tell them they were in danger. Seeing me move, Parnard turned to me. “Oh no, lady. Your hands are too fine and dainty to oil steel cables.”
I forced my chin upwards, that my eyes were upon the stars a moment.
“I have other matters I must consider,” I announced, almost in a voice not my own.
Parnard halted his words to Hingalas. “What, cousin?”
“What?” I could not think straight.
“What other matters, cousin?” he smiled at me.
“If I should ask Cirdan for a seat on his next ship.” What was I saying?
“In a year’s time? That is not very long, lady.” Concern was beginning to show in my dear friend’s eyes.
“A little under a year,” I replied, as if it was a finalised act. As if he mattered not at all.
Parnard’s smile faded. I had drawn the light from him.
“You wish to depart so soon?” questioned Hingalas seemingly with surprise.
“I think I may.” What did I mean? Tintalle, what was I saying? I wanted them all safe. Was that the only way?
“She has spoken of this before, “ Parnard explained to Hingalas.
And I said, “Matters change, do they not? Like the moods of the Sea.”
Those words speared me, echoing a memory I would rather not have. So similar to the words I said to Estarfin, back many a year in Imladris, when I walked away from him believing he loved another. He could not have known how much the visit from Ruineth had pained me. He had sent her to find out how I was after our rescue from the Hithaeglir. She had told me she and he were most happy together, that they had all they needed and I was not required. Oh, not in any spiteful way. She could not understand why I had sought after ‘her Lord’ in the Hithaeglir at all. Blinded then from a warg strike I was. Aearlinn, my student was my eyes. “She is beautiful,” Aearlinn had told me.
I had taken the pain, the disappointment, the years of sorrow, and thought, ‘If this is what he wants, if this is what makes him happy, then so be it.’ I had stood back. Very far back. I had hardly spoken to him, as she had wanted, that they be happy and unknowingly driven away my hope. I had thought she spoke the truth.
I shivered.
Parnard was watching me in disbelief. Could he not see I was far from myself?
I turned to Hingalas, aghast at what I was doing. “Do not let me distract you, Hingalas. Tonight is a special one for you.”
Parnard’s expression took me aback. “Then why take the trouble to set the house up? Why tell me to visit the market for the prices of sea–gems if you are leaving so soon? “ he intervened.
“Because things change.” I saw him turn away in confusion, disappointment. Certainly pain.
Hingalas had been listening, as he knew me not well. He spoke up then, his words still light and hopeful, knowing that mine were not.
“There is sadness in your voice, Lady. Do you wish to leave, or not?”
I smiled at him for his youthful simplicity.
“What I wish matters not. But you, be happy with your achievement.”
And then he said something profound that, though I struggled for a while, stuck like an anchor of hope in my mind.
He said ”You cannot be forced to leave. Lord Cirdan would not allow that.”
I grasped *that* life rope of safety firm in both hands, knowing it as truth. Yet the darkness would not relinquish me so easily.
“Look at you both. This is a night for celebration. Go, drink, sing, dance.”I said. “For not everyone achieves their dream so early in life.”
I would drive then both away.
Parnard had moved away to stand against a fountain, his arms crossed. He frowned.
Hingalas spoke softly. “Only if you will accompany me?”
Now I already knew what Hingalas’ dancing was like. Unless one was in armour, it was not advised to dance close to him for he kicked out at all angles and threw his legs into strange contortions in his enthusiasm. But I heard a voice trying to be of help. It was hard to say ‘no’ to him.
“I am in no mood for such, though I do thank you most kindly,” I managed.
“I wonder where I shall go next?” Parnard said forlornly.
“Tonight, Lord?” Hingalas asked him.
“Any night. I suppose I could head back East?”
The tears were welling in my eyes as I listened to what I was doing. This was my friend, my ‘cousin’ as he had taken to calling himself, I had wounded.
“Find my way back across the mountains to the Greenwood,” the Wood Elf continued. He set his jaw and looked fixedly at the far horizon. Perhaps, just perhaps he would suffer no ill if he came too, I wondered. What was I doing? Neither of us should be going anywhere other than home!
“I am not sending you away, cousin. I had wondered if you might accompany me?”
“Do you not wish to sail, Lord?” Hingalas was still trying to be helpful.
“How can I sail when I have still not spoken with Brasseniel?”
“You are right. You should speak with her.” I finally said something right.
“I am waiting on her letter. It may be some time coming.” Parnard replied. Then he turned to me, his own pain pouring forth.
“Why sail now, Danel? What gave you this idea? You are leaving Estarfin?
In my thoughts I was screaming out ‘no’’. I was searching for him in Valinor, but could not find him. I did not want to be there without him, despite all else it offered.
“If he chooses to remain, that is his concern, “ I said. I spoke as if I had no care for him, which was so far from correct.
“You told me you would not sail until all was sure to fail. You promised Estarfin that?” Parnard pressed the point.
That was because I had not wanted to sail at all, I recalled. Estarfin wanted me safe at the last. And most reluctantly had I given him my word.
“I would …stay, to the …very end. No matter what. And yes …he asked me to sail.” That was the untainted me talking. I reached out in thought to that rope Hingalas had thrown. ‘None can make you leave.’
“If you would stay, then why sail?” Parnard continued, not seeing my inner battle.
“Because our time draws nigh. We will all fail. It was just a dream,” the words stuck in my throat.
“It is no dream,” my friend countered. “Do not sail.”
Hingalas again added hope. “We have all the time in the world, yet the World does not have all the time for us. Yet our time is not approaching so quickly as that.”
I was not totally sure what he meant, but I took the ‘there is still time’ from his words. There is still time here, on these shores for a good life?
“I should seek rest,” I said, tired of a sudden and wanting away from dear ones I would not darken any further.
“I think this ill news. Estarfin will take it worse,”
I turned to Parnard, knowing he spoke the truth. If I insisted on leaving, ..ai Estarfin…
“He will not.” I bit my lip, drawing blood in my effort to still that voice.
“He will.”
I closed my eyes in self despite.
And I walked away from Parnard and Hingalas most heavy of heart. It was needful I be alone at that time, so dogged by a darkened doom was I, that I dare not risk being with them longer. And what a doom was upon me that the words of Namo Mandos echoed through my mind like it was an emptied cavern.
Each step up the hill to the Tavern at which I had made reservations was like a dozen miles.
What has happened? Tintalle…what has happened that I am drained of all light?
I understood the days could be dark, and hope was a fragile bird that could easily be blown off course. Yet even in the darkest days, I had never felt quite like this. Even in Eregion…even at the destruction of Thargelion.
I stopped as I neared the brow of the hill, and turned to the warmly lit windows of the establishment, ‘The Mariner's Rest’. Yet I did not enter. I wanted to be alone, to battle those demons in my mind that called mockingly for me to ‘give up’, and to ‘take ship as soon as I may’, to run away.
Harsh had been my words to dear Parnard, and blunt to drive him from me through an impossible request. Hingalas too, though I knew him but little. He was excited at his rope display, and that Lord Cirdan was to visit. He deserved a better mannered nis to celebrate his achievement.
And Estarfin….oh by Elbereth, why did I say to Parnard you would not be bothered if I left, when that was the furthest thing from truth? Had it been merely to convince him I was changed of heart? Had it been I was trying to protect you? How I wish you were here Estarfin…..though you would probably shrug at me and say something like,’Did I not expect aid from the Lord of the Havens? That is what we have received. No aid, but a curse.’
I walked to the furthest edge of the pathway to get a good view over the still busy port and the lights of the city as, a few at a time they flickered and went out. Folk were taking rest. And so should I. Had I not said as much to Parnard? But the growing grief in me would not abate. Nor was sleep a cure.
“Sit with it, do not run, do not bury it with drink. Sit with it and let it wash over you.”
That had been some of the advice from my own days of training here. I was not good at sitting. I wanted to ‘do’, not be trapped in a circle of despair. But that night I tried.
Name your feelings, we were taught. Understand where they come from. Learn and control.
It was more a Teleri way than one of we Noldor. I tried it.
Hopelessness. I feel there is no future for us.
Anger, that time and again joy has been snatched away.
Fear. Ah, less of that, but the belief that each step forward would be thwarted.
Hatred. Even that against the folly of our own folk..that they trusted overmuch to the Secondborn walking in the light. Did I really feel that?
And the stars moved on overhead as I struggled with the darkness within, to seek Tintalle again.
Something bade me reach into my belt pouch. I grasped one of the few things I carried at all times. A memento of a happy day it was. A rather large acorn he had carved into a whistle with a Feanorian star on one side, when we were resting in the Vale of the Andune. “In case we are parted and you need aid.” he had said. “I think none dwell here now, but there are places where an enemy could hide, undetected. Either of us could possibly be taken unaware.”
I need aid? And how many times had I rescued him? I almost smiled.
Ha, I am a fool, I thought again. It was meant to be used within a small range. I blew it nonetheless. The sound was strangely comforting.
...and then there was the sound of someone running along the street from the direction of Cirdan’s Halls. It has started to rain lightly and their footfall and the small splashes seemed to focus me.
“Lady Danel?” a dark haired, fleet-footed messenger stopped beside me, and looked at me questioningly.
“You have found her,” I replied, with a hint of undeserved disappointment.
He bowed his head politely, and held out a sealed letter. The seal was Cirdan’s.
“From the Master of the Grey Havens, Lady. I shall wait a distance for you to read, and I shall carry any message in return if that is your wish.”
I nodded my thanks and stepped away to one of the balustrades overlooking the main harbour.
My heart was racing. My hands were shaking.
Hope?
Hastily I broke the seal, unfurled the page. Aye, it was Cirdan’s seal, and written in his hand. I held the letter close under my cloak and read on.
“Hail Lady Danel, and greetings from an old friend,
For it is as a friend rather than Lord of the Havens I now address you. I see a struggle behind the light in your eyes, and would that I could be of assistance. You know me well enough to understand I cannot solve what ails you, neither will I tell you what to do, but I am old enough to have witnessed many a situation, and of my thoughts on that I can speak.
Speak I say, rather than write. I deem you think the matter concerns a ship that will carry a Kinslayer to Valinor? I understand that is not something to be spoken of in front of your friends. They know not this about him. And you would keep it that way?
And of the matter itself, you did not say passage is the question…..You said little, that I am far from convinced.
If it is your will, Lady, I bid you return after Late Watch to my Hall, and we may speak further. At least let me hear your concerns, especially about what ails you, that you may rest a little lighter in my lands.”
I refolded the letter and placed it in my belt pouch. He would hear all I had to say? In itself that was not the answer I wanted, but it was a hand held out to me. Perhaps he would hear me give voice to what was happening to me?
I walked towards the waiting messenger, who turned at my approach. I was shaking as I moved.
“Lady?”
“Please inform Lord Cirdan I shall be there at the time he asks. Thank him on my behalf.”
With a nod, he turned and ran, nigh as swiftly as Parnard could, back in the direction of Cirdan’s Halls.
1)The Doom of Mandos. Quenta Silmarillion ‘Of the Flight of the Noldor.’
