Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[littlemanpoet]

He slinks behind the big-one-toed-dog. The red man is on that one. He stays to one side. Grainy bigonetoedog how-I-am-fruit misses him. His tail drags in the dust almost. The other mans forget him. He cries with the she-man. Red man is bad feeling in his head. Yorye stays with them. Never leaves!

[mark12_30]

Ravion pointed. "There is the first stream. We'll camp soon." Mellonin couldn't see the stream yet, but she was glad to hear the news. She took a deep shuddering breath and thought of Gwyllion's question. "Dreams. What dreams?" She scrubbed her tears away and composed herself.

"Well, there were dreams of winter. Snow on golden leaves, muffling a wood. Lonely dreams of searching and longing. Then there were dreams of ... of hair in the water; long hair, swirling and moving in the waves; golden hair, dark hair. And then the waves grew wilder, and I thought... I thought I was drowning. And then I realised that I was dreaming of the song that I had taught my brother just before he left... before he disappeared."

"What song was that?" asked Gwyllion.

"The Lay of Nimrodel," Mellonin said. "He loved it. He sang it again and again, and all day at the forge, and we would sing it together at night. We sang nothing else for three days. And then he was gone. I hate dreaming about it. Sometimes I think if I had not taught him that song, he would not have left."

"Would you sing the song for me?" Gwyllion asked, shyly.

Mellonin paused, deciding. And then, "No," she said. "I would rather not. I wish I had never learned it."

[littlemanpoet]

On midsummer's eve they search high in the mountains, near to where the trees give way to the mountain's stark and boney heights. As late afternoon draws toward twilight, they walk in a high sward, feeling the cool, sweet breezes of evening. His heart is hers, and she has known this for months. Still, her duty is to her mistress. But her hope has dwindled. With sun's setting, they stop and watch the stars brightening in the deepened night. Their hands find each other's, and entwine, for the first time. They do not need a roof this night, and lay to sleep among the spikey flowers and grasses and stunted trees of the high slopes. No cloud mars the stars this night. She is sad, and he comforts her, for she does not think her mistress is among the living. Without movement, but in her eyes, he sees the turning in her heart to him, and she wordlessly consents to stay with him, to wife.

[Imladris]

Women. Such sentimental creatures. Aeron rolled his eyes and snapped, "Well that is the silliest thing I have ever heard."

"What do you mean?" asked Mellonin, her brows carving in slight frown. "Can I not be upset?"

Why were his words always coloured with new meaning? Why? Heaving a breath he said, patiently, "Of course you can be upset. But why silently pout at the world because of a little misfortune? The song was beautiful, you said. Why not appreciate it?"

"It brings to mind too many memories."

"Curently it seems that memories are the only thing left to you since your brother has gone," Aeron said. "Content yourself with them just in case your brother does disappear forever."

"Aeron!" Gwyllion snapped.

"I am telling her the truth!" he protested. Who would rather be fed disillusionments instead of the truth? Disillusionments were like cakes that had poison instead of cream within them. Anybody who would rather kill themselves with disillusionments were fools.

"What my brother means to say," Gwyll said, touching Mellonin's arm, "is that Memory fades when it is not visited often. It is like...." she stopped, her teeth gnawing her lips, searching for words, "it is like a flower denied the light of the sun. It is strong and vigorous at first, always there. And then it begins to shrivel, clutching for it's life. It becomes withered, brown, a mere skeleton."

Aeron nodded. His sister understood. "You do not want your brother become dead in both body and spirit do you?"

[mark12_30]

Mellonin turned to Aeron trembling with cold fury. "My brother is not dead, " she hissed. "And if you say that again I will claw your eyes out."

"Calm down, woman," said Aeron with a snort.

"How dare you? How-- dare--"

She flew at him. Gwillion gasped and said "No!" and Aeron dodged as Mellonin clawed at his face. In self-defense he slapped her; she took no heed. Ravion leaped at them, and pulled Mellonin off of Aeron.

"Stop it. Now."

"Raefindan!" Gwillion was wringing her hands as Gond snorted, jigged and shied, and Raefindan slipped sideways. Mellonin struggled in Ravion's grip.

"Get my horse, " Ravion said to Aeron. Aeron lunged clumsily towards Gond's head, and Gond leaped in earnest. Raefindan, arms tied around Gond's neck and ankles tied near the girth, slid sideways and hung against Gond's leg. The horse reared and then bucked.

Ravion dropped Mellonin and tried to soothe Gond, but the horse bucked and screamed. "Whoa. Stand," said Ravion. Jorje whined and barked, and Gond panicked and ran with Jorje running after him. Ravion's shouted commands were drowned out by howls and hoofbeats that receded into the distance.

[littlemanpoet]

In the moments before dawn, the mountains rumble. He wakes to find her standing over him, looking at the cliffs above. The shoulders of the mountain shift in its sleep, and the icey build up of centuries is loosened. A crevasse opens and icey snow pours through, cascading on snowy boulders below. One boulder rocks just enough to loosen from its eons long perch, and begins to roll. It knocks others loose. Moments later, the entire slope is a river of rock and ice and snow, tumbling towards them. She turns, fear in her eyes, and lifts him to his feet. They run down the mountain side as fast as their feet can carry them. They are not fast enough. A stone hits him in the head and he knows no more.

His head hurt. He remembered falling. The ground was still shaking above his head. The rocks were rumbling. Trees were skittering and scattering this way and that, never quite leaving him alone. No, not trees. Horse limbs. The sky was brown and shaking. No, it was earth below him! His head was knocked by another rock. No, a tree trunk, no, horse limb; and a maddened, baying wolf yammered upside down, like a feral bat out of a nightmare, running across the upside down brown sky. His head pounded and his stomach churned, and was getting set to loosen and revolt. This was no good. He wanted his nightmare back. He looked ahead of him, between the two bending and churning tree limbs, with horse hoofs on the end of them instead of tree roots, that touched the upside down sky, and to his dismay, saw a big rock that the tree limbs were not trying to avoid. He twisted his neck as far as he could and strained as much as he could, and lost control of his stomach. But the rock struck the side of his head. The feral upside down wolf stopped yammering, and the day went dark again

She knelt over him in their home, and washed his face with a damp cloth. Peace. The avalanche was far behind them now. She must have come through it unhurt, and had helped him to his horse, and had guided them back home. She smiled at the gratitude in his eyes.

[mark12_30]

"You murmur enough to cast a spell of your own."

Raefindan stirred, and frowned. The voice was male. He opened his eyes. Glimmering in the firelight, a slender elf bent over a bucket of water, rinsing a cloth.

"Who are you?"

"Your unwilling host," replied the elf.

The redhaired man stirred, moaned, and lay still again. Outside a dog whined, and Raefindan spoke. "Jorje...?"

"Your loyal dog? He won't leave even if chased. I tied the horse and washed his wounds."

"Wounds? Is he all right? Where are the others?"

A sharp laugh. "The horse will be well; his wounds were shallow. You ask where are the ones who tied you to the horse? I know not. Nor care, if they but stay away. "

"Tied me?"

"Hands and feet. You have rope burns. Why the horse stayed here, I do not know. But you were dying, and I did not want a mannish corpse near my home."

"Dying..." Raefindan's eyes wandered around the cave. Wetness gleamed on the brown rock walls. There was no musty smell. Moss grew here and there. A chimney of sorts was cut through the rock, and there was a trickle of water into a basin near the door. The door was wooden, and needed repair.

With a lifted eyebrow, the elf wiped Raefindan's brow, face, and neck. "Your fever has broken at last. How weak you men are! You will be on your way soon, I trust."

"I can hardly move, " replied Raefindan.

"Weak indeed," muttered the elf, and went to rinse the cloth. "Yet you shall not stay."

[alaklondewen]

Erebemlin looked to Taitheneb with pleading eyes and then to the bright stars above as silently he asked Elbereth for guidance. Finally he rested his eyes on Amroth. His mighty king…so fiery of spirit and passion gazed out from this young man’s body. Sadness welled up in him as more pieces of this grand puzzle were brought forth in Amroth’s behavior. “Many songs and tales have told of the Lady Nimrodel’s misfortune and how she became lost to the world.”

Amroth tilted his head and look curiously at the elf. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Taitheneb interrupted with a sideways glance toward Erebemlin. “Lord Amroth, you should rest. Tomorrow will be a long day, and you have still not regained your health.”

“Yes, my lord. Why don’t you lay back and rest.” Erebemlin rose and rolled a small blanket from his pack and then placed in beneath Amroth’s head. The elf wondered at how child-like the king was at this moment. Placing his hand gently on Amroth’s forehead, Erebemlin spoke a few soothing words and the king was soon soundly snoozing.

For the remainder of the evening hours, Erebemlin and Taitheneb watched the camp to let the mortals gain their strength through rest. They spoke only in thoughts to one another, contemplating the odd behaviors of Amroth and the tales of Nimrodel, until the dark sky grew pale and strands of light peaked over the horizon.

[Orual]

Ravion's shouts and whistles trailed off as Gond disappeared from sight. "Gond!" the Ranger roared, to no avail. The horse, and Raefindan, were gone.

"We have to follow them," he said unnecessarily. Mellonin, Aeron, and Gwyllion were already prepared. "We have to start now!"

"Can we really catch up to Gond?" Gwyllion asked, a touch of panic in her voice. She was bouncing on her heels, trying to rid herself of her nervous energy. Aeron put a calming hand on her shoulder, but she merely shrugged it off. "I mean, we cannot hope to go as fast as he was going."

"He will not run too far--he was merely spooked," Ravion said hurriedly, starting off at a quick walk. His companions followed him. "Gond knows that he is not to leave without me unless I tell him to. He has been my horse for many years...I am surprised that he has not come back yet." He did not add, unless they've come across trouble.

Gond was a good horse, and well-trained. He would not leave Ravion without good cause. And good cause usually meant bad news.

Ravion broke into a run, his companions trailing a bit behind him. Despite his somewhat small stature, Ravion could make good speed running, and most people usually found it difficult to keep up. His companions, however, driven by concern for Raefindan, managed to maintain a fairly steady distance from the Ranger.

After a little while, he slowed to a walk. He knew he was following Gond's trail, but how long was it? How much distance had the horse put behind him before stopping...if he had even stopped yet? Mellonin, Aeron, and Gwyllion caught up with him, breathing heavily. Ravion did not turn around to look at them. "We may as well walk from here," the Ranger said dully. Aeron frowned deeply, and Ravion could see a protest budding on his lips. "If Gond has not stopped, we will not catch him until he does," Ravion said harshly. "And if he has stopped, we can only hope that he will not start up again, unless it is to find us. He should stay in the same place."

"He should stay in the same place," Aeron parroted angrily. "And if he does not? What then?"

Ravion said nothing for a moment, then, simply, "He will."

He started walking again, slowly, then picking up speed, but not breaking a brisk walk. There was no use in wearing himself and his companions out. Raefindan may be in danger, and if...when...they found him, they would need all their strength.