Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[mark12_30]

As the sun came up, Mellonin went down. Gwyllion called Ravion, who turned, and saw Mellonin in a heap under her pack. Aeron reached for Mellonin and swayed, struggling for balance. Gwyllion knelt by her side.

"Go on," Mellonin said. "Leave me."

Ravion slumped, and passed one hand over his brow. "You three stay and make camp, and get some sleep. Aeron, can you track me? Or can you at least follow Gond's hoofprints?"

Aeron shot him a look that said those questions did not matter. The ground they were on was nearly dry. He shrugged off his pack, lay down with his head on it and began to snore.

Mellonin, still without meeting Ravion's eye, struggled to remove her pack. Gwyllion pulled it off of her, and put it under her head, and then removed her own and lay down.

"Try and set a watch, " Ravion muttered to the three sleepers, and then he scanned the horizon. There was nothing to see but swamp and marsh stretching to the horizons.

Loosening his sword in its scabbard, he turned to follow Gond's tracks.

[Imladris]

Sleep... How pleasant the word sounded, whispered in Aeron's mind. But that stupid ranger insisted on tracking the horse. Surely he was just as tired as they? Why did he continue to persue them when it was quite obvious there was no hope of catching them. A few extra hours would make no difference.

What was it the ranger had asked? He had asked for his help...the help of a thief. Aeron grinned. So the ranger was not too proud to ask help from scum such as himself. But...he was so tired. His legs felt as if stones were bound to them, and his eye lids struggled to close.

But if the ranger insisted on looking for that dratted horse that had carried that blasted red head away that had been bloody scared by Mellonin then he could do no less as well. His sister had taken the disappearance of Raefindan hard as well. Poor little Gwyllion...she rather liked the red haired man.

He sighed and struggled to his feet. He nudged his sister with his foot and whispered, "Get up and watch. I am going after Ravion to help him find that Raefindan."

She smiled. Aeron glowered at her and trotted after the ranger.

[Orual]

Ravion's boots thudded dully on the packed earth. The sound echoed in his ears, and despite his attempts to whistle the same old Gondorian marching saw that he had been humming the night he had stumbled across the Seventh Star Inn, he could only hear the sound of his own boots. It was a hollow sound.

He had been to hard on Mellonin, and Gwyllion. Maybe even Aeron. Perhaps if he had not kept them to such a strict, driving schedule...what? What would have happened? Maybe Gond would not have bolted. They certainly would have gotten the encounter with the merchant over with sooner. Why couldn't he have realized sooner that he was pushing them too hard? Who was going to suffer for his mistakes?

Thud. Thud. Thud-thud.

Ravion turned around when he heard an extra pair of boots. He saw Aeron running up to him. "What are you doing here?" Ravion called, crossing his arms, though in truth he was relieved to see the boy. He had a feeling of foreboding about this mission.

"Tracking you," Aeron said. "It seems that I did a fairly good job."

Ravion smiled wanly and clapped Aeron on the shoulder. His smile then faded and he grew somber. "Mellonin and Gwyllion..."

"...can take care of themselves," Aeron finished. "They're fully capable."

"Their what?" Ravion queried, then stopped. He and Aeron fell silent, and Ravion knew that Aeron was realizing the same thing as the Ranger: the boy had picked that up from Raefindan.

"We have to find him," Ravion said quietly. Aeron nodded. "We should not waste any more time." Aeron nodded again, and they set off, trying to find Gond's hoofprints in the silent, untelling marshes.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

The sky loomed dark an ominously as Bellyn sat up from her bed roll. The sun had started to rise just as Bellyn had woken from her dreams. The clouds above her remained a sea of blue-grey morning, rolling like waves to some unknown place beyond the horizon and heavens. In the long, quiet minutes following, a peach-cream pink came to adorn the clouds and seep into the deep violet that had previously dominated the sky. Bellyn felt silly for feeling awed at something so simple that happened every single day, but then she became too wrapped up in noting all the colors of the sky that she could never duplicate, no matter how hard she could try mixing paints.

Soon Bellyn could see birds flying westward, racing against the warm colors of the sun that began flowing away from the east. The edges of the sky were caressed with shades of red, orange, blue, and violet until the lattermost faded into the hazy blue that lightened with every moment of sunrise. In the chill morning, every inhale tasted of fog. Bellyn sighed in the damp thickness of the air.

Shuffling noises brought Bellyn out of her reverie, and she turned around to see Argeleafa waking up. Liornung was in the process of rolling his blankets, and Ædegard was ready and itching for departure. Bellyn could see the elves watching over Amroth, with Mellon-Nethwador by their side. Bellyn wondered at the situation they had all gotten themselves into, and for a moment she wished she could just stay on a hill and watch the entire sunrise, instead of having to go off and find a long-lost love that did not even belong to her heart. Then the young artist and map-maker realized that in her former day-to-day carelessness and stagnancy, she would not have even noticed or cared about the sunrise.

"Where are we going, Argeleafa?" Bellyn asked as she began to pack up her bed roll.

[Nurumaiel]

Argeleafa started but when she saw it was Bellyn who was speaking to her she relaxed and even smiled a little. "I apologize, Bellyn," she said. "I was thinking of something else." She reached over to help the younger girl pack her bedroll. "Where are we going?" she mused. "I really haven't the faintest idea. If you like I'll go ask Ædegard." She stood from her knees and went to the aforementioned Ædegard. Bellyn watched her with a startled but pleased expression. The past day or two Argeleafa had been more friendly... no, perhaps friendly was no the correct word. But the Rohirric maid had been more willing to speak.

"Ædegard." She tapped his shoulder and then blushed in confusion. How many times had her mother told her it was not polite to tap one's shoulder to get attention? But if she was not tapping one's shoulder she was pulling one's sleeve. It would be best, she resolved, to, in the future, keep her hands behind her back so she would not make any such mistakes.

Ædegard had turned. "Good morning, Argeleafa," he said. He did not seem to mind in the least that she had tapped his shoulder. Some people in the past had.

"Good morning, Ædegard," she replied. "Bellyn has asked me where we're going, and I don't know at all. I thought perhaps you...?"

[littlemanpoet]

Ædegard was greatly pleased to see Argeleafa standing before him, wseeking to talk. She was blushing, which made her cheeks rosy, which set off her blonde hair and fair complexion, not to mention red lips, quite prettily. Her hands were held behind her back, which only served to make her the more intriguing. What a fool you are, Ædegard! he said to himself.

"Good morning, Argeleafa."

"Good morning, Ædegard. Bellyn has asked me where we're going, and I do not know at all. I thought perhaps you...?"

He smiled. "I do not know. But I will ask Erebemlin and tell you what I have learned."

"Thank you." Her eyes met his briefly, then lowered with a deeper blush to her cheeks.

"How do you fare, Argeleafa? Did you sleep well?"

"I am well. And I slept well."

"Good. If you have any need, please tell me. I will go ask Erebemlin now. Would you join me?"

Her eyes widened of a sudden and her face turned pale. She shook her head, glancing at the Elf with eyes opened wide in awe. "I do not think...."

Ædegard smiled again. "It is nothing. I have seen the awe of Elves in most other folk, and I do not know why it is not so with me. I will speak with you soon."

She nodded once, met his eyes again, and blushed, a small smile coming to her lips. Then she turned and walked back to Bellyn. Ædegard heard the simple tune again, faint on the wind, as if Argeleafa was catching the words out of the air:

"Deep in my heart are you, Rohan my home,
Far from your quiet fields now I roam.
In a distant land bends my way,
But I shall return to you some day."

With light heart he walked to the Elf, humming to himself,

"Many tales I shall speak to each friend,
Of stout hearts whose words always mend,
Of loyal friends on the road I did greet,
And a maiden fair it was my joy to meet."

He came to Erebemlin.

"Good morning, mellon. Where do we go today?"

[littlemanpoet]

"Mithrellas," The Elf said.

Raefindan looked up. The Elf glowered at him from his seat. Raefindan had been thinking about his dream.

"What about her?"

"You will speak of that to me, human. She was an Elf. What cause have you to think of her?"

The Elf was reading his mind! Most unnerving! He would have to be careful not only of what he said, but what he thought! It would be the most difficult thing he had ever had to do. What if the Elf could force him to think of things he didn't want to think of?

"I dreamed of her."

"Do you know who she was, human?"

"An Elf. She served another Elf lady but lost her in the White Mountains."

"And in this dream of yours," the Elf's tone dripped contempt, "what had you to do with Mithrellas?"

Raefindan narrowed his eyes at the Elf, who was bating him, or worse.

"I think you know already."

The Elf rose and stood over Raefindan menacingly, his eyes narrowed to slits of ill feeling.

"I do indeed, human." The Elf's jaw clenched and his teeth gnashed; his voice came out soft as a hissing snake. "How dare you take an Elf to marry!" The Elf raised his arm to slap Raefindan, but he raised his arms to ward it off. The Elf grinned. "Bodily pain is too good for you." He stalked back to his seat and leveled his gaze at Raefindan, full of rage.

He dreams again, all of a sudden. The Elf forces him asleep, and dreaming, and according to the Elf's will. He is Imrazor again, and Mithrellas is the mother of his two children, a boy and a girl, but Mithrellas is changed this day. She looks at the walls of their home as if her gaze passes through them. She walks out the door; he assumes for fresh air, but minutes pass. He calls for her. There is no answer. Perhaps she has gone walking, as she does from time to time. Hours pass. He seeks her. She is nowhere to be found. She is lost to him and his heart breaks, for even as he dreams that he is Imrazor and has lost Mithrellas, he is aware that it is the Elf that forces him to see, and whispers into his dream that he never deserved her, and that he is now cursed for having taken her, and he will never know happiness again.