Zairaphel

“How long are you going to sit there smoking,” Zairaphel complained from the couch. She batted her hands in the air in an effort to disperse the coiling milky-blue clouds. Her golden hair hung loose, untidy, and she had not bothered to retie the collar of her dressing gown.  

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.

“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.” 

“Any development with your…predicament?” Belegos asked Parnard as he settled himself on the floor. 

Estarfin had suggested Parnard slept outside, under the lights of Tintallë. I first thought of the sea, the mantle of Ulmo, for defense.  A different Vala, but the same need for an ally whose will could not be challenged. Oh, I was angry then, at myself for not seeing clearly earlier; with the Sorceress Zairaphel and her petulant tenacity.

There were thirty left. 

She was sitting at her desk in the side room that was lit by only one lamp, and turned as I was but a few feet away. “You!” she said. There was no fear on her face, only disgust. “Ungrateful creature, after all we did for you.”

Henepa looked apologetically at the elves. They were not unmoved by her predicament, her ragged and filthy clothes and her pain shadowed eyes, but they had their own quest, their own folk to rescue urgently. 

The Captain nodded at the water skin. “Keep it,” he said to her.

The storm of the previous night had been fierce, almost as if foreshadowing a mighty clash of arms. Rain had struck the roofs of the fortress and the surrounding ground like the arrows of an attacking army; trees as strong as any senchenal were battered, their limbs ripped from them, some even fell under the continued assault. In my room in the tower I had felt like hiding away under the bed, I had wanted to hide, but it just would not do.

Estarfin….beloved...I saw you for a moment, I heard your voice, calling to me. I hear it still in thought and I reach out to you. 

But I could not answer you in words. I knew what would happen if I did.

It had been a long ride more than a difficult one. The path from Bree to Angmar was not well-worn, neither were there welcoming places to stay, not even for one such as her. Khahaynd had known that when she set out she would be on her own until she reached Lady Zairaphel’s house. But difficult? Nay, there were Men around Trestlebridge, but not the sort she would waste any time on. They were not interesting nor threatening enough for her.