We did not see nor hear from Parnard the following day. I was not totally surprised. We both knew we had disappointed him, but we could not do as he wished, and help him find his stolen armour in Gondor.
Much of that day we spent with Ceuro, making plans for strengthening the door and windows of the main hall, and adding small windows to the highest level from which archers could fire. The Bell Tower was already our place to assemble should our outer walls ever be breached, but we needed a plan for a last stand if we had a dozen more folk at Numenstaya. There were only nine of us at present, but that could change.
After cleansing baths, we had taken a light evening meal and I had sat with some books to study awhile, (yes, more on Celebrimbor) while Estarfin took a walk outside.
My plans were but slowly taking shape. I had promised Estarfin I would sail west when the last stronghold fell, the last forest burned. I would not break my word to him, but what if a last stronghold remained and not all forests burned? Had not our folk sought strongholds in hidden places, in Gondolin, and to some extent Imladris? Had they not built kingdoms underground, Menegroth and Nargothrond, with Sindarin Lords later building Felegoth? Lothlorien was also hidden, but that more by the power of the Lady Galadriel, and the ring gifted her by my cousin, Celebrimbor. Oh, I had much to consider. Only Imladris, Felegoth and Lothlorien still stood. The other strongholds had not been destroyed as much by strength of arm as by varying forms of folly. Was it possible to build a place that would stand even in the years after Imladris was eventually emptied or defeated? I was certainly not my cousin, yet Celebrimbor had taught me much.
After a couple of hours I felt the need to walk and look to the stars myself. I put my study aside and walked out into the cool, starlit night. There was singing. I knew that voice well.
Estarfin was standing on the white marble bridge, nigh the lake, gently singing a song to Tintalie. I walked down the path towards him. “Meldanya!”
He turned to me, smiling. “Stars, and the sound of water,” he said.
“I would listen awhile, if you would continue? I always find it so beautiful here.” I smiled in return.
He reached out to take my hand in his.
“This small corner of our home, with the falls and the lake, it is as if we have found our own small Cuivienan.”
“Indeed,” he nodded, “We are old, yet sometimes I feel a touch of envy of those who came before us. “
I raised a brow. “How so? That we did not awaken by the waters?”
“We have not seen Cuivienan, we have not seen the Trees.” He sighed. “I may as well wish to see the Lamps, Illuin and Ormal.”
I placed my free hand over his. “We have several lamps,” I pointed out with a chuckle, “Of a lesser type, that is true.”
Estarfin smiled again. I knew he rather liked the lamps at Numenstaya, them having been purchased some decades ago by the previous owners from a Noldo craftsman in Forlond.
“I understand,” I said. “Some of the greatest beauties were before our time, and are now gone forever.”
“Perhaps then it is a blessing that we did not know them and lose them?”
“It is hard to lose what you love,” I rose on tip-toes to kiss his cheek. “We were fortunate.”
He nodded and squeezed my hand. “Forgive me. A melancholy is on me this evening.”
“There is nothing to forgive.”
“The mood will pass. We dwell as much in memory as we do in the present at times.”
I understood that too. “I dwelt mostly in memory for well over an Age. I lived, yes, yet it seemed but half a life at the time. I still live in memory some of the time, our past home, Eregion, Imladris … but these past dozen years or so I want more to live in the present.”
Estarfin nodded. “I agree.”
“It cannot be the same as the old days, but we can still create, learn, explore, and bring as much beauty and joy to the land as possible.” I rested my head against his shoulder and he wrapped an arm about me. He sang softly again, in praise of the stars.
For a short time all I felt was a sense of peace and beauty, the two of us together, wrapped in starlight. All was right in my world. Eventually I looked up at him, “You have a good voice, meldanya.”
He smiled at the compliment and brought his song to an end.
I applauded him. “”I wish I had a voice to compliment yours, but alas, my singing is but acceptable. I have no flair for it. I am certainly no Linda.”
“That much is obvious. But they do not have a sole claim to song. Your voice is fine and clear, do not doubt yourself.”
I thought he was being kinder than warranted, but I took his advice to heart. As with most things, practice helped. But I would change the subject.
“I am still wondering, if it be possible to build a Star Tower here? Parnard suggested such a while ago, and it would be good to show we took that wish seriously? Besides, I have always loved the Star Tower in Forlond. I know having such a place is not essential, but to be able to watch and study Tintalië’s works would be a delight.”
From his expression, I could see Estarfin was pondering the idea. “Where?” he asked.
“Perhaps on the hill by the Main Hall?” I pointed back towards the building.
“Or atop the cliff?” Estarfin pointed to the cliff behind our house.
“Of course. I would have it that we can watch the stars as clearly as possible.”
“A tall, white spike of marble and silver, that is what it should be,”
I clapped at the idea. If we could envisage it, we could make it. “Walls and watchtowers first,” I added, “but after that, a place for we People of the Stars.”
Estarfin nodded. He pointed up at the cliff again. “We should hang a banner. Parnard could make it for us?”
I squeezed his hand in turn. Numenstays’s heraldry? “What banner are you thinking of? Do we use one of Imladris, of Gil Galad, of our Prince of old; or do we have something new?”
“We must all choose. But I think we should have our own banner?”
I lowered my head slightly, considering. Such a banner would show others who we were. “I think that is wise.”
“We should have the star of the King upon it.”
I looked up at him. I agreed. “Which King do you mean?” I asked, though I already knew. “To me the King is Feanaro.”
Estarfin nodded. “Of course.
“I only wondered because we both served King Gil Galad, whom I hold in esteem. I was also thinking of King Finwe.”
“Would Finwe be more fitting?” Estarfin asked.
I pondered the thought, watching the moonlight reflecting on the still waters of the lake.
“Finwe was a noble and skilled King, beloved by his people, and by others. Manwe loved him dearly. He was as our ‘sun’ before Anar.”
Estarfin nodded slowly.
“But in truth, his brightness shone most in Feanaro. There was, and never shall be, any quite like him.”
Estarfin smiled. I believed he agreed. “The star of the House of Feanor?”
“Yes. We have ever been of his people.”
We were agreed, but would Parnard and the others agree? Filignil obviously would, and probably Ceuro, but I was uncertain of the rest.
“You have regard for Fingolfin, I believe?” I recalled Estarfin’s rare accounts of his time in Barad Eithel. “I have little love for him. I recall it was not oft said that he too became proud, and jealous of his rights. Neither that he prefixed the name of Finwe before his own, and his full brother did likewise, to strengthen his claim to be Kin before any ship sailed East. He was not as innocent as many do claim.”
Estarfin nodded, but said, “He was a gracious host.”
He was also brave of heart,” I added. One could not say otherwise of one who challenged Morgoth. Perhaps you will tell me more of Fingolfin and of Fingon one day?”
Estarfin nodded slightly that I feared the melancholy had come upon him again. “They were not dishonourable, but they were different.”
That I could accept of Finrod at least. “Do say if I bring sorrow, and I will change the subject.”
“Not sorrow, just memories. We are thinking of the future after all. The banner…”
“It should be red,” I announced.
He raised a brow, but did not comment. I made the comment for him. “Or crimson?”
“Sometimes it is nice to speak of less important things,” he smiled slightly.
“We must consider what we hope for.”
I followed his upward gaze to the gathering rain clouds.
“Dry boots for now.”
“To the house,” I knew he hated getting wet. We both ran for shelter as the skies opened and the rain poured down.
Estarfin laughed as he removed his rain soaked cloak and hung it up, I laughed also, but made to our room to change from soaked clothes to dry ones. And then we went and sat by the fire to dry, and drank warm spiced wine, and laughed and talked further.
“ I can brush your hair for you, when it is dry,” I offered.
Estarfin kicked off his boots, smiled and nodded.
We were well and truly home.
