Chapter Seven
She was glum as she sat in the schoolroom. Not sad, just glum. Curunír was gone, he had left at dawn and she found herself vividly aware of the fact that he was missing before she had even started lessons. Galdor was preparing to leave as well and she would be left with her uncles and Edweniel. Not that she counted them as strangers now, Edweniel had filled the gap her sister had left. She was not yet used to sleeping alone in the small room next to her uncles' chambers. Alsea had always been an arm's lengths away in the darkness to whisper to. Now there was nothing but a wall on one side and the expanse of the room on the other. The night she knew Curunír was leaving she cried again. Softly so that through the wall her uncles could not hear her and when she washed the redness away in the morning no one would have guessed.
"Have you seen him?" Edweniel asked as she slipped through the door. "He never noticed, not until he was walking along to meet his mother." She say down next to Yarna on the windowsill.
"Noticed?" Edweniel laughed.
"His hose. You sew better than I can." It took her a moment to understand what Edweniel was referring to.
"I did nothing," she murmured.
"Naturally." The conspiratorial grin that came her way was undue yet she shared it anyway, both of them leaping up when the door opened suddenly. Erestor gave them a suspicious look.
"I know it was one of you," he said slowly as he put his pile of books down and picked up two black slates. "What I am at a loss to understand is how either of you managed it, therefore I cannot prove it."
"What are we supposed to have done, my lord?" Edweniel asked with the confidence innocence brought with it.
"I am not above the fabrication of evidence," he warned them. "Valandil will not be joining us until he has found a hose that was not- modified." The three of them managed to keep straight faces for nearly two heartbeats before Edweniel dissolved into giggles and Yarna's face was flushed from holding them in. There was the faintest smile threatening at the edges of Erestor's lips before he gave a rather unconvincing cough and handed them the tablets.
"Dictation." Edweniel broke of her giggles to groan. Without proof Erestor could neither punish not reprimand them in a more serious way than giving them a lesson that bordered on torture.
It was hard to work out another problem whilst Erestor was reading out words she had only just leant to spell. He released them at midday and Yarna raced Edweniel to the door, running strait into Glorfindel as he opened it. He swept her up into his arms.
"Have you scolded them for the, skirt incident?" he asked Erestor.
"I cannot prove it was them." Glorfindel laughed, the first full laugh she had heard him give since she arrived.
"Then I congratulate you girls on eluding him." Yarna still had not worked out how Valandil's clothes had been altered since she had done nothing more than ask Curunír to help her. Surely though, he had left too early. She grinned into her uncle's shoulder.
"Very constructive," muttered Erestor.
"Come along, Valandil has dealt with his wardrobe by now. Edweniel, it will not do to keep defeating the Prince of Arnor on a daily basis."
Valandil looked mildly forlorn out on the training field with his wooden sword. Edweniel dissolved into giggles again, prompting Yarna to poke her with the tip of her blade to shut her up.
"My mother will find who is responsible for this," he told them loudly.
"But your highness, we were in the Hall from supper until bed. It could not have been us." Edweniel, in between heavy breaths gave him a smile of pure innocence. Yarna copied it but at the back of her mind she did remember receiving the blame for mishaps that were not her fault. The skirt incident, as her uncle put it, was likely to be of a similar nature.
Overwhelming proof that neither girl had been involved, as well as an airtight alibi for Lindir and his friends saved them all from Rinbereth's wrath. Valandil ceased making comments about the girls' presence in his lessons and not another word was said about sewing. That night both Rinbereth and Valandil appeared at the high table for supper.
From her vantage point at the table furthest to the right of the dining hall, Yarna could observe her uncle Erestor seated next to Rinbereth. Despite him clearly attempting to keep up a conversation with Nairn to his other side, Rinbereth repeatedly interrupted them.
"Her lord husband is coming," Lindir whispered to her from across the table. "Isildur, King of Arnor and Gondor. He will grace us with his presence in twelve months."
"It seems to me that we shall need a year to prepare for this coming," added another minstrel.
"I saw the King once," Yarna declared. "He came to talk to Círdan. Will Isildur be as great as he was?" For she had seen Gil-Galad, High King of the Noldor in Mithlond and no account, however embellished that Valandil could give of his father would match it. Especially since Edweniel did not hesitate to point out that she was the only one of them to remember meeting Isildur and did not have the glowing memories Valandil made up.
"Possibly now, he was only a prince then." Lindir looked down at her with an air of authority. "Prepare to hear nothing of it for the next year though."
"Five weeks it took for the lords to put Lindon and Imladris to rights, yet it takes him a year."
"Hush, Liron. More respect would suit you well." Lindir's fellow minstrel stared down abashed as the nearest adult stared him down.
"Perhaps he will have righted his skirts by the time his father comes," Lindir murmured and the groups of elflings erupted in various sniggers.