Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[littlemanpoet]

He walks among the mountains, high above their home. He holds in his hand a tatter of her garment, which he had found hanging on a branch; torn, as if she were in too great a hurry, and could not or would not pay it mind to go back and retrieve it. Chased? Chasing another, so focused on whom she followed that she cared not to retrieve the fragment? He finds one shoe caught in a cut of rock standing up from the ground. This tells no more than the tatter. He comes to a cold, shallow lake, before which is cast off, the other shoe. She has waded or swam across to the fir tree lined far side. He follows, his clothes wet to his chest by the time he reaches the far shore. Through the trees that grow close about. He comes to a stone wall, a cliff, perhaps, for it is not made by men. There is a way through, narrow as the width of a human, or elf, walking, and it is closed overhead. He passes through, and stops. Before his feet is a gorge, and the path is just two feet wide, following the gorge to either side. To his left is an Elf, his eyes are slits, and his mouth is gritted in ill will. He knows this Elf, not by name, but by mien.

"Look down, human!"

He drops to the ground, convinced that if he walked up to the edge, the Elf would push him. He slides up to the edge and peers over the edge. Hundreds of feet below lies a body. It is she.

"No!" He raises his head, his eyes blurred with sudden tears; the Elf's features are unclear. "You pushed her over!"

"Fool. This is a dream. Have it so if you wish, but now you know her end. You deserve to know what you have done to her by winning her heart, human. You killed her."

He wept.

There was a crash. "Raefindan!" The voice was familiar to him, but he did not care. He couldn't believe that he had killed her, but his heart believed it, even if he could tell himself otherwise. His love had died. Just like the other time.

"Mithrellas!" 0h Angela!

[mark12_30]

Raefindan lay on a bed, eyes unseeing, despair in his face. Ravion stood at the door, blade drawn. Between him and Raefindan stood a slender darkhaired elf. The elf did not smile.

"What! Has my home become a highway for ruffians and tramps? Begone, vile manling! Or perhaps you come for the sick man, " he spat.

Ravion stepped into the cave.

"His plight moves you to pity, does it not? It should. Pitiable indeed." His voice was ice cold.

[alaklondewen]

Erebemlin looked up at the young man from his position on the ground, but continued his task of packing. “Good morning, young Ædegard. We shall continue following the Anduin today. Lord Amroth believes it possible that the lady may have gone there seeking the music of its waters.”

Ædegard nodded in response and said, “I hope he is right in his thinking.”

“Aye, so do I…so do I.” Erebemlin closed his pack and rose, towering over the young man. “Can you assure the others are ready to leave? We must start early for our journey shall be long.” How long…Erebemlin was afraid to say. In his heart he felt that they would not find the lady by the river, yet something kept him from dissuading Amroth from his choice of direction…

“Yes, of course,” Ædegard answered. “They are nearly ready now.”

“Very well, then…shall we?” With those words the elf lifted his pack and readied his horse, awaiting the others to follow his lead.

[mark12_30]

Amroth packed Echo's saddlebags, and leaped elf-style into the saddle with less than elvish grace. Ædegard smiled wryly.

"You could mount like a normal man."

"I am not a normal man," Amroth retorted.

Ædegard glanced keenly at him, and Amroth smiled. "I would take the saddle off but that the bags are strapped to it."

"That is my father's saddle, " Ædegard replied.

Amroth's smile faded, and he nudged Echo closer to Ædegard.. "I mean your father no ill. You have been a loyal and good friend and ally, and I am in debt to you I fear beyond what I can pay."

Ædegard shrugged, and then said, "What happened to his bridle?"

"It is in the saddlebag," Amroth said, pointing.

Ædegard nodded, and walked back towards Argeleafa. Amroth watched him go.

Echo, feeling Amroth's eagerness, tossed his head and jigged. The other horses were not all so eager, and Amroth knew that the slower horses must set the pace; but he wished he could give Echo his head. The young firebrand could run well.

Fresh from a night of nearly dreamless sleep, Amroth bent his thoughts southward, and hunted along the Anduin on both sides. There was no sign of her, again. Next he scanned Dagorlad; again, there was no sign of her. With a sigh, he turned his thoughts towards Gorgoroth. There was much less darkness than he expected to find; there were only echoes of malice and shadows of shadow, hidden pockets of evil rather than brazen armies. He thought it odd, and decided to ask Erebemlin about it later.

For now all that mattered was Nimrodel.

Echo's stride lengthened steadily, til the troop was strung out at an easy run. It was not long before Erebemlin and Taitheneb took the lead, and slowed their horses, giving the group a rest. Echo snorted his ire, but Amroth hardly noticed. He could all but taste the acidic fumes and the blowing ash and dust. His stomach turned. There was far more dusty, ashen ground to search in Gorgoroth than there had been at Dagorlad. He began at the eastern extreme, and worked his was slowly westward; it seemed more hopeful than going the other way.

[Orual]

Ravion gripped his sword until his knuckles cracked when he heard the elf speak. Ruffians and tramps...and Raefindan spread across the bed. He looked like he had woken from his fever, but was now sleeping again, and his dreams seemed nightmarish. He extended his sword-arm towards the elf. "We have come for our friend," he said, his voice quiet but fierce.

The elf laughed mirthlessly. "Ah, his friends. You tied him to a horse and left him for dead, yet now you want him back?"

Ravion dropped his sword to the ground. "Ravion," Aeron said, quietly, warningly, anxiously. "Be careful!"

"It would benefit you to listen to your younger, wiser friend," the elf said. He glanced at Aeron briefly, then at Ravion's sword on the ground, and then back to Ravion. "Disarming yourself before a potential enemy is unwise, would you not say, Ranger?"

"I would say that I do not need my sword," Ravion said, and lunged at the elf, ignoring Aeron's alarmed cry of his name.

He tackled the elf to the ground, landing several blows before the elf regained his equilibrium. The elf, at first, merely held Ravion off, blocking his swings and evading his blows. Then Ravion managed to land one more, a good blow right to the elf's stomach. The elf grunted, and then launched into an offensive.

As Ravion fought, his thoughts raced. Who was this elf? What was he doing with Raefindan? Was he truly their enemy? He seemed hostile enough. Was that a good enough reason to attack him? He felt a blow connect soundly with his left cheekbone, and reeled. He staggered to his feet, and stumbled back into Aeron. The boy caught him and helped him regain his balance.

"Easy," Aeron said softly, his own eyes burning into the elf, who was righting himself. "The last thing we need is a fight."

"We just had one," Ravion grunted.

"Another one, I mean."

Ravion shook himself, and, picking up his sword, stood before the elf. "I was..." He stopped again. What was he supposed to say? He was not going to apologize. If the elf had been giving Raefindan aid, he should have been less hostile. "If you have helped our friend, you have my thanks. But you have not shown us yet that you should have our trust. What reason can you give me not to resume our fight, but now with my sword?"

[Nurumaiel]

Liornung noticed that Amroth was not at ease. He never had been at ease from the beginning of the journey but there was something more now. Bellyn rode not too far from him, and Nethwador at a close distance to her, watching the others warily, with an occasional fond glance at Amroth. Ædegard rode by the Elves, when the latters' horses were slowed enough for the others to catch up, and Argeleafa rode close to him yet not too close. From time to time she would cast a shy, awe-filled look towards the Elf. Liornung saw that she wanted to ride closer to Ædegard but was hesitant about going too near the Elves. Poor little girl. She just wanted someone to protect her and Ædegard had done so much in protecting them all thus far. And then Ædegard cast a look behind him, saw her hesitant expression, and slowed his mount so he was riding beside her. She blushed shyly but her expression of hesitance changed to an expression of pleasure.

"And there's something in the wind," Liornung murmured under his breath. "With Ædegard it is obvious. Argeleafa I am not so sure... She keeps so very much to herself and hides her feelings... but I have a suspicion..."

"Did you say something, Liornung?"

He turned and smiled at Bellyn. "Yes indeed, I did, though I was merely speaking to myself," said he. "The matter I was pondering is one that might have come to your attention while watching Ædegard and Argeleafa." He said no more but looked again to Amroth. The latter had often been calmed by songs, and he faintly recalled that it was his turn in the game of rhymes to sing. And so he began.

"I first saw you, sweet maid,
sitting on a lonely stone wall,
and you wept with sorrow and grief,
and heard the mourning bird's call.
I was stricken by your fair beauty;
hair of gold and skin so white,
cheeks of rosy hue and clearly
did I see your eyes so bright.

I watched as you lamented
over all your home long gone
and wept at your deep sorrow
and your mournful, haunting song.
I gently stepped up to you
and questioned you as to your sorrow
and you told me your home
you would leave behind on the morrow.

Your father will take you with him
when he leaves his home
and away with the wayfarers
he will ride off to roam.
And you would have no place
if you dared to remain
and o'er your head would be no roof
not in snow nor in rain.

And I, so stricken by your beauty
could not watch your grief
I took your hand and led you away
for in love I've always had belief.
And I asked you to wed me
and stay with me forever
to honor and to please thee
would ever be my endeavour.

And your eyes when you heard
were like stars in the night
but you turned away from me.
You did not think it would be right
for you had known me but a minute
and could not wed me for that time
but bid me court you for a month
and in that time you would be mine.

Maiden fair, I await the day
when you at last shall be mine.
All my treasures that I own,
my very heart shall be thine.
Fair maiden, how I love thee so!
Until you're mine I know no rest
so them come to me, maiden fair,
for I'm the one who loves you best."

[mark12_30]

Nethwador listened to Liornung's song, and watched Lady Bella's face; she smiled, sometimes, and sighed sometimes. She did not stray far from Liornung's side. In the front of the group, Echo's cream-colored mane and tail and the flowing golden hair of Erebemlin contrasted with the dark hair of Amroth... Dark hair like mine. It was a happy day when I found Amroth.

And Bella's hair was dark too. Riding a little behind her, he watched how her hair shimmered in the wind, and wished he could comb it for her.

Liornung finished his song, and Bella smiled at him.

I will learn to sing. Perhaps then she will smile at me.


'******************


They halted at noon and unbridled the horses while they ate. Erebemlin spoke to Echo, and halted him; Amroth was glad. He looked down at the nearby river as one awaking from a dream, and at the relief of seeing green grass he dismounted, reached down and caressed it.

"You are weary, my lord Amroth." Erebemlin's face was grave. In answer, Amroth lay down and gazed into the heavens.

"You must eat. We will bring you fruit, lembas, and river water. Perhaps you should taste miruvor as well."

Amroth raised his hand. "I need not eat. I have eaten ash all morning."

Erebemlin shook his head. "Breathe the river-air, my lord, for dine you must or you will ail again. Rest now."