Estarfin

The festival has ended and we three must make ready for our journey to Mirkwood. We shall stop a short time at Imladris however, to take stock of what we need in crossing the Hithaeglir this time of year. Our purpose after that is to see Parnard reaches his home, and if at all possible, she to whom he would be betrothed. 

“What is this thing,” Parnard asked Estarfin, holding out an oddly-shaped object.

I remember...

Home, before the Dagor Bragolach, before the fire and the dragon and the armies of orcs. Before retreat, unthinkable until then, before riding to whatever sanctuary could be found in the lands of Ambarussa. Before so very many were lost.

Maenasroth, the caves of crafting, under Barad Eithel was a vast underground smithy. Columns of marble and basalt were carved from the bedrock itself, and each was hung with crystal lamps that flooded the space with light and colour. The sound was almost overwhelming, a hundred smiths worked bellows, quenched steel, beat red-hot metal with a hammer or filed and ground edges onto finished pieces.

And then, the day before the last of the festival, out of the morning mists walked Belegos. 

"Just a fleeting visit," he told them "And to remind you I have my eye on you. Both eyes when I can."

He was warmly greeted, and asked how he was, and how his mission progressed. There was ever hope he would be free to spend some time at Numenstaya, but his three friends understood. 

"Someone has to save Middle Earth," he said to them, with a grin, knowing all of them did their part when needed. 

“You doubt his love for you?” Parnard asked of me.

“No Parnard, I do not,” I replied without even thinking. Why should I doubt that? Estarfin merely said he wanted an apprentice. Am I wrong in not welcoming Ruineth?

Seating himself more comfortably on the grass, my wood-elf friend took up his flagon of wine, and had a few sips. “With all the talk of bringing that maiden here?”

I shook my head. “If he loved her, he would be with her. Not planning betrothal with me. I do not doubt him.”

"Who took you?" Danel asked.

 "Was some of Lotho's men." Guy replied.

"That accursed name again," 

 Estarfin, rushing up breathlessly, seemed not to recognize his friends at first, then lowered his sword. 

"You must break the lock," Parnard told him, pointing downward at it.