On The Narog by hennethgalad

Chapter k

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On The Narog.- 

 

   They carried the grey canoe down the grassy slope and slid it into the green-brown water. Glorfindel held the end while Finrod climbed into a seat, then pushed away from the shingle and leapt aboard. They took up a paddle each and steered deftly for the swifter water. Soon the river carried them along, needing only occasional pulls to keep course.

   The endless green ripples of the northern plain flowed past, sometimes a grove of trees reached down to the low banks, sometimes herds of deer, disturbed at drinking, looked up with startled eyes. Finrod sighed contentedly and looked over his shoulder. Glorfindel grinned at him 

   'You have truly escaped ! I did not think it could be done !'

   Finrod nodded 'I wonder if we have ? I fear they may be as the cat, which lets the mouse flee, then stretches out a claw...' he laughed shortly then shook his head 'No, I am unjust. We are not the mice but the kittens, allowed to play awhile...' 

   'They have let us go for now. I propose that we enjoy every moment, for after all, orcs may attack, lightning may strike, fire may consume us, but we are together now !'

   Finrod reached out his hand and Glorfindel gripped it quickly, then looked over Finrod's shoulder. The river curved around a rising bank and the first hill they had seen all morning mounted on their right. They steered into a muddy creek and harboured. Finrod leapt ashore and strode up the hill, Glorfindel secured the canoe and followed up the long shallow rise. 

   From the top they could see for leagues around; in the distance, among woods, Glorfindel gestured to a rising column of smoke 'Sindar.' he said. Finrod nodded 'Shall we pay our respects ?' he said, 'We could gather news...' 

   Glorfindel sighed 'You are right, of course, I suppose I wish we had the whole world to ourselves.'

   Finrod laughed and nodded 'Come on, I will race you to the bottom of the hill !' he shouted over his shoulder, already leaping down the fresh spring grass. Glorfindel whooped and chased him, and near the bottom of the long slope he charged into Finrod from behind and threw him into a stumbling roll down the rest of the hill, falling tangled around him, and, Finrod realized, taking the brunt of the impacts. They lay breathless in each others arms, stunned and trembling.

   Finally Finrod had enough wind to say 'Why did you do that ?'

   Glorfindel shook his head 'I am so sorry, it was the chase, I just had to catch you... I could not stop myself... I am sorry.'

   Finrod laughed 'You are like a hare, jumping madly with the fever of love.' Glorfindel kissed him passionately, but after a while he stirred and looked up

  'Someone is coming.'

   Finrod raised his head 'Perhaps the Sindar saw us and are investigating.' 

   They arose, and coming towards them were four green-clad Sindar, one with bow in hand. Finrod smiled and strode forwards

  'Stars shine upon the hour of our meeting ! I am Finrod son of Finarfin and this is my love, Glorfindel.' 

  The Sindar smiled, and one said 'You are welcome lord Finrod, we have had word of your coming; my lady Mîrwen would welcome you to our village.' Finrod looked at Glorfindel and said

   'We must certainly pay our respects to the lady Mîrwen. Please lead the way.' 

    They followed the silent elves to the woods, and there among the tree-tops were the numerous talans of the village, threaded among the taller trees, with many slender bridges or ropes strung between them. A flute showered sparkling notes on them from above. Finrod was almost sorry it was not dark, he longed to see the buildings glowing with of lights. The spears of sunlight scattered thickly in the deep green shade, early bluebells were opening, the air was soft and mild.

   Finrod inhaled deeply 'This is a lovely place, thankyou for bringing us here.' he said, but the Sindar merely smiled, and stopped by a large tree. A rope-ladder uncurled down the trunk, the Sindar held the end and bowed to Finrod, who smiled and began to climb eagerly.

   The carven hall at the top was a little larger than Finrod's pavillion, but only a little. The main chamber held a dozen elves, all of whom rose at Finrod's entrance. The lady Mîrwen, robed in shimmering green, stepped forwards, she wore a silver circlet with a large pearl.

  'Welcome sire, to the hall of Caranthôl, will you take some wine with us ?' a servant appeared with a tray of goblets, Finrod took one gratefully, and sipped the rich red wine.
It was not familiar to him, dryer than he preferred. 'It is a local vintage' said Mîrwen, 'Good for cutting through rich sauces...'

  Finrod smiled 'Or with a nice hot pie.' he looked at Glorfindel, who carefully savoured the wine, then said 'I do not seem to have your refined palate, it tastes like wine to me.'

  Finrod smiled, then turned to Mîrwen 'But my palate would be very interested in exchanging some of your wine for something you might like ?'

   Mîrwen smiled broadly and gestured at a couch 'please make yourselves comfortable my lord, I feel certain that we have much to discuss.'

 

 

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