Chapter 30: No one loves him
"Tell me, Ecthelion, aren't your cheeks fuller and rosy?" the king remarked.
"That's because of Belin, who won't stop making cakes."
Turgon's eyes squinted.
"I didn't know you were married, Lord Ecthelion," said Galdor, sincerely surprised, thinking Belin was a female name.
"I am not married..." Ecthelion denied with a frown.
"No," Turgon explained, "he lives with his squire. It's not the same."
That day, the roommate in question was wandering through the Lesser Market, looking for candied fruit to put in a bread cake. Holding his basket, he was observing the display of a dried fruit merchant, when he noticed the thinness of a woman's hand hesitating over the prune tray.
"Give me an ounce, please. And the same of apricots."
Belin turned to the owner of the voice and the hand, who happened to be a sublime brunette with hazel eyes and an aristocratic bearing. He looked again at her hands: no sign of engagement or marriage.
"She is well-beautiful," thought the human inwardly.
Without taking his eyes off her, he went to the florist and bought a bunch of tulips. (Sir Ecthelion would say again that he spent all his pay on courtship gifts to seduce females, but that wasn't even true.)
He placed his bouquet in his empty basket. Should he approach her now, in the middle of the market? No, there were far too many people. And then she might find it improper...
So he followed her as she walked alone down a deserted, winding street.
After about twenty metres, of course, the young elf woman's sensitive ear could only pick up the vibrations emitted by the heavy gait of the human walking behind her. Intrigued, she turned around ; but all she saw was a Nando walking quietly, a basket full of flowers in his hand... The Green Elves were decidedly lacking in refinement! Yet she had always believed that they had a gift for camouflage, for not being seen or heard. What was wrong with this one? Had he been drinking? The way he walked was strange too... But she chose not to think about it and continued on her way.
However, the deeper she went into the alley, the closer the footsteps seemed to get. In the end, she felt that the stranger was right behind her. Her heart raced. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she was startled.
"Miss?"
Temples pounding, the Noldo woman turned around.
The Sylvan with the basket was facing her. Except that it wasn't a Sylvan.
"Miss..." continued the stranger who had followed her, dipping a hand into his basket.
The young lady stiffened ; she saw the man's round ears, his hairy forearms... The blond fleece emerging from the top of his half-open tunic.
The primitive expression on his red face.
She screamed and ran away.
"Wait... Wait..." Belin stammered helplessly.
He was tempted to throw away the flowers, but he remembered that Lord Ecthelion liked to put them in his bath.
Depressed, he went home, forgetting to buy the candied fruit.
Two musicians entered the throne room. It was Hildor, the king's minstrel, accompanied by a woman carrying a large harp.
"Is Salgant not coming?" asked the king.
"He couldn't make it," explained Hildor. "He has an important appointment with a physician."
"Hm. Because of his gland problem, right?"
Hildor nodded.
"But I came with Nieninquë, who has just arrived in the valley. She is an excellent harpist."
Glorfindel raised his head sharply. He recognised the young woman with strawberry blond hair and a large forehead whom he had seen play for Penlodh before.
"I would be honoured to play for your majesty," said the young woman, curtseying.
"Very well!" exclaimed the king, clasping his hands together. "Do you know Glorfindel, my constable?"
"Not directly, Your Majesty, but I have heard much about him."
"All good, I hope?" joked the king.
"Yes. I have heard much good about him."
At these words, she looked at the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, whose face flushed with intense redness. She fluttered her eyelashes.
"She is also a very good singer," Hildor added.
"Yes, Penlodh told me so."
"And she has a deeper voice than I!"
He chuckled. Nieninquë pinched his hip affectionately.
Glorfindel could not help but frown. When the performance was over, he asked the king if she and Hildor were engaged.
"Of course not ! In case you haven't figured it out yet, Hildor... doesn't play in the same orchestra as us."
"Huh?"
"He has Maedhros' tendencies," whispered Turgon.
"Ah."
It was immediately clearer...
"So... Nieninquë, to him, is probably just a good friend of his, you know."
Glorfindel felt relieved. He took the opportunity to make an effort to look discreetly at the young elven woman, who was busy accepting refreshments from a valet while chatting with Hildor. What a sweet profile ! What a graceful neck ! What a voice, both pure and unctuous...
She turned and suddenly gave him a doe-eyed look, accompanied by a slight smile.
"Glorfindel, are you well?" asked the king.
"Yes, yes..."
"Oh, but here comes Penlodh!"
The steward passed under the arch. He nodded to the king, then walked over to the harpist, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her on the cheek.
"Glorfindel, you really don't look well..." insisted Turgon.
The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower sighed. It was written that he would never find the Lucky Lady.
When Ecthelion returned from the barracks, he found Belin sitting in the kitchen, looking sad. The man had his arms resting on the small table covered with shiny earthenware, and seemed to have abandoned the task of covering a pile of fresh buns with poppy seeds.
"What's wrong?" the elf asked as he took a seat on the other side of the table.
"Nothin', my lord. I just wanna know what it feels like to be loved," said the human.
"You got rejected again, didn't you?" said Ecthelion.
Belin nodded.
"There's never no elf who wants me, milord. I'll end my life alone."
"Nonsense... You won't be alone. I'm here."
"It's not the same, though."
"You're right. It's better."
There was a silence. The squire turned to the elf, who was smiling crookedly. He had placed two rolls of bread on top of his tunic and was holding them in his hands.
"Well?"
Belin, who had expected anything but this, burst out laughing.