Nai elen atta siluvat rénna veryanweldo ✧ VT49/43* May two stars shine on the day of your wedding
*(VT - VinyarTengwar)
I awoke to the bird song, and an early dawn light shining through my window. A cloudless sky was visible, a pale gold glow was gracing the nearby trees. It would be a lovely day.
A lovely day?
What was the matter with me? It was our wedding day. At that joyous thought I chuckled, and decided to remain where I was for a short while longer. There was no hurry. All was prepared. I could enjoy the day as it unfolded. I .. we had waited long enough for it to arrive.
I rested my head on the pillow again, pulling the single silken sheet I had earlier kicked off the bed back over me. Gently I stretched my limbs and yawned. What could go wrong to keep us apart now? I decided then and there all would be perfect. Over six thousand years later than it should have been, but still perfect. From my position of repose, I cast my eyes around my room - ‘our’ room by the end of the day. It was my hope my alterations would be to his liking? I had spent several hours but a few days before, making space, clearing out the large, red painted chest, and one of the wooden cupboards for him. Not that space was an issue. Estarfin had his own house nigh the gates to Numenstaya. He had use of the main Hall, wherein his forge was located, and had a room there, which he rarely if ever used. And he had an upper room in my house for those times we sat up almost till dawn watching the stars. He was not lacking space.
“I have little to offer,” he had said to me, when we met up again at Echad Eregion after a few years apart. I had not believed it then. I certainly did not believe it now. I had borne witness to the changes in him over the past three years, as we spent increasingly more time together. All I had ever wanted for him was the ability to be who he should have been, had wars and guilt not kept us isolated. I wanted him to smile and laugh again, as the youth I had fallen in love with had once done. And now, while still capable of being somewhat stern and dour, he was also oft happy. I could wish for no more.
Although in these last few years, matters of company has improved for him, he had dwelt alone since the end of the First Age, both craving and rejecting our people. Alone until he went to Imladris, and finally found friends who valued him. Other Noldor, some of whom knew, or guessed what he had been through. And he found me. Or I found him, though I suspect he thought it wasn’t me at the start. Over six thousand years with no hint of a sighting of each other, it can lessen hope, particularly when my father had told me he was slain. I knew it was him from first glance, and when Belegos introduced him to me in the Hall of Fire. “Danel, this is my friend, Estarfin.”
My heart had leaped in my chest. He inclined his head to me; it was his face; his voice, “Lady.” And it was his expression. He was less than happy in that moment as I recall, due to an inordinate number of men (five perhaps?) in the Last Homely House. I did not recall him disliking men in his youth, but that ‘mood’ I had witnessed a few times. It had been rare. That evening in the Hall of Fire, he carried a half-drunk bottle of wine in a manner that suggested trying to ‘drown his sorrows?’
What had befallen him over the Ages? I knew not, neither had I heard anything of him that gave me hope he yet lived. It was as if he had disappeared. In a manner, he had. Alas, there was this. We change little in physical form through the yeni, but our hearts, minds and spirit can alter through life’s experiences. I knew I had in many ways, I was less demanding, less impulsive, less likely to run headlong into danger. But this had never changed about me; my giving to him of my heart’s love so long ago. There had never been any other for me. I had friends, I respected others, but none matched up to my first, and believed lost, love.
Six thousand years is rather a long time. No blink of an eye. Would he be anything like the noble spirit I had watched with such admiration? Oh, he was still beautiful in my eyes, but he was so weary, so full of anger and regret. I yearned for that to change; for him to be more as he once was. I wanted to remove the pain he had suffered. I had been fortunate. I had almost always had others about me who cared. Though I had also lived through dark times, my spirit was less jaded. But I knew from the first moment I saw him, I had little power to heal him. Only he could change himself.
Those first few months were challenging. I know not with certainty when he first realised who I was. Everyone addressed me as ‘Danel’ at that time, a name he never knew. It was only after he forged the sword, Sarphir for me, and at one point made a slip of the tongue, calling me ‘Carnifindë’, that I was certain. We argued often, we disagreed, we were drawn together nonetheless. And I realised, whatever the outcome, neither of us would deliberately depart the other. If I was wary, he seemed moreso. There came a time when our converse turned to Doriath. And he told me briefly what I was dreading to hear. He was a Kinslayer, twice over. He had also been at the Gates of the Sirion. He told me, and fell quiet, possibly expecting me to reject his company then and there. I could not condone what he had done, but I understood. My father had died in the attempt to reclaim a Silmaril. He had died a Kinslayer. I would have gone with our Princes myself, had my father permitted.
I saw much of Estarfin’s darkness then, his pain, his despair. Having finally found him again, I could not leave him. It was my thought to stand by him, and try to encourage him to find some measure of joy again. I did not realise then that I held part of the answer. I did not know he loved me as I loved him, holding back because of what he had done. What he had become. But we did become friends, I believed. Good friends.
It came to pass that he escorted me on my quest to Dol Guldur. A quest to reclaim a family sword, forged by Mahtan, and stolen from my grandmother. It was a quest I was prepared to undertake alone if required. Foolish I know, but Belegos soon spoke to me, telling me he also had good reason to travel to that place. Estarfin said but a little later that Lord Veryacano had ordered him to escort me. Veryacano, knowing something of my lineage and mood, wanted me well protected, but he also realized that others were likely to risk their lives to come along. I soon had my friend Parnard the Wood-elf as a guide, plus a few others I trusted to hold their own in a fight. Neither was I some untrained child, but could give a good account of myself. To that end, and with some confidence, I asked Estarfin to spar with me before we left Imladris, knowing he would not hold back. I wanted to know I was capable as I once was, that my skills were not dulled. He wanted to teach me to be utterly ruthless, that I may survive. What happened that day is another tale (1). It resulted in us not speaking as friends anymore, but avoiding each other. That was a painful time. Eventually we did speak to each other, at Echad Eregion, and set aside our hurts and mistrust, becoming close again. He realized he had been misinformed; and I had misunderstood his apparent coldness. He said things then so that I first knew of his feelings for me. What I had hoped for was a possibility. He was happy, for a short time. He also asked me if I knew why we argued so. I think that was obvious to us both.
We had to move on towards Lothlorien. Knowing the mountains that lay ahead, we left our horses and continued on foot. Our companions were with us most of the time, so we did not speak openly, but walked close, and looked at each other often. Alas, we were accosted by an orc group from Minas Elendúr, not a problem in itself, as there were no more than twenty of them, and Belegos took out a large number with his bow before the rest of us could reach them. But for some reason Estarfin had wandered through the door of the old Citadel. Having dwelt for some time in Eregion, I knew more than a little of that place. I called out a warning, but it was too late. We halted outside the doors, Belegos looking to me urgently. “We should follow,” he said.
My heart felt like lead as I shook my head. “Nay, Belegos. The place holds great evil.”
At that another group of orcs, larger ones than before, hurtled out of the ruins towards us distracting us momentarily. And the doors burst open behind us as Estarfin staggered out. We all went to him immediately after the orcs were dispatched, but the others were shocked at what we found.
Estarfin looked as if he had been dragged backwards through many bushes; his face was paler than usual, his hair tangled, his eyes wild. He seemed to be unsteady on his feet. Parnard and I moved to support him.
“Estarfin, speak to me?”
He appeared to recover somewhat on seeing us, but as I feared, he was confused and a little strange of manner. Minas Elendúr had been taken by Sauron in the previous Age, at the cost of many elven lives. It was said that memory of his presence lingered in its very walls. It was filled with dread and horror. None entered and were the same, if indeed they did emerge at all.
“Estarfin?”
He nodded that he was fine, and in truth just seemed to be a little taken aback, until we reached the edge of the Golden wood, that is.
I paused my recollections for a moment, got out of bed and walked to the window to bathe in the sunlight. I was shivering at that memory. I had thought him lost then. I thought his mind was damaged beyond restoration.
“Lady Danel?”
I heard Filignil’s voice, the swish of her long robe and the movement of her feet across the main room.
“Yes, yes. I am awake.” I wrapped myself in a long but thin overgown and tied the sash about my waist.
She entered my room carrying a small tray with a pot of rosehip tea and a bowl of sliced fruit.
“I have set out breakfast for all our folk, Lady. It is in the Main Hall, so you need not be disturbed. I took a plate of roast boar and chicken down to Lord Estarfin, but he was not there, so that awaits him on his table, though I can make some fresh food if he is absent for some time.” She poured the tea for me.
I wondered where he was? But this day was as special for him as it was for me. Perhaps he had ridden out somewhere to watch the last stars of the night, and the dawn? “He will not be far away,” I said to my friend.
“Parnard will likely be here within the hour with your finished dress. Fearane and Miruviel have completed your headdress. I have set out your shoes, if you wish to wear them.”
I thought about that. I loved to walk without shoes, to feel grass under my feet, but any slight additional height shoes could give me would mean I was not staring at Estarfin’s chest. I chucked to myself.
“You know it will not make a difference to him, Danel,” Filignil also chuckled. “As to the ceremony, the horses are well groomed, and Barahirn has plaited their manes and added some flowers. They look very fine for the trip to Celondim.”
I nodded my appreciation.
“And Ceuro and Yrill have put up a large tent outside the Hall, for those of us here to have a celebration meal.”
“I am most pleased with that. As you know, in days of old a marriage would be witnessed by two families and friends, and there was often a large celebration. But now..”
The Housekeeper nodded, her own memories from the First Age obviously on her mind. “But neither of you have families left.”
“Just so. We have friends of course, but really, we want as little company as possible, if you understand? Just Eru, and Tintallë, and two Elven witnesses. Were we to invite more, we would not know where to stop, and so would have to overlook some.” The thought had crossed my mind of inviting friends from Imladris, but it was a long journey, and we really did just want the witnesses.
Filignil had left my room and returned with an urn of scented water for my bath. “Yes, I do understand. And so do the rest of the folk here. We can celebrate with you over the next few days.”.
I laughed. Both Estarfin and I were very fond of our household. But we were hoping for a little time alone.
