Estarfin

Thargelion, Beleriand 390 FA

(After : Another Guest: Another Problem.  )

Gaerion looked from Estarfin to Parnard and back again, his expression bright. Then he laughed softly. 

It was the gloaming time, the time of half-light when day settled into night. A reddish hue colored the western horizon as the birds quieted, tucking beaks into wings to sleep while restive frogs began their nocturnal chorus of lusty croaking.

It was late afternoon when Gaerion, Captain of the Uinenlindë, arrived at Numenstaya. An old friend of my family in Valinor, he had come to Endor with the Host of the Valar, Vanya, and Valinorian Noldor. Unlike the vast majority of his Teler kinsfolk, he had set foot on the shore, participated in the battles, and remained. He had been tasked to bring back certain folk, if they were alive, and so willed.

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.