Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[littlemanpoet]

"Where are Mellonin and Gwyllion?" Raefindan asked.

He was greatly relieved at the presence of Ravion and Aeron, and was pleased that they were getting along well; at least, as well as could be expected. Raefindan suppressed a chuckle at Aeron's I say. But Raefindan's mood was not light. This Elf had invaded his mind, and showed him things he wished he did not know. But of greatest concern was the safety of the women. Or girls. He would have to ask them what they wished to be called, then laughed at himself at the obvious answers: Mellonin and Gwyllion. A rose by any other name and all that.

Ravion answered him. "They wait for us some way back."

"It is not safe to leave them so," Raefindan said, flicking a glance at the most unsafe creature he could remember having met, which wasn't such a great stretch considering his general loss of memory. In fact, the only person he had to compare the Elf to was the merchant, who was small fries compared to the Elf. Small fries? What were fries? No image came to mind to provide a clue. He struggled to his feet. "We need to go back and find them." He eyed the Elf.

"Go on with you then, and take your foolish, mannish hungers with you. You shall not die, though these your friends almost killed you."

"Almost killed!" Aeron was on his feet in a moment. "You do not know the circumstances! You have no right to judge!"

"Pray do not tell me your so called sir come stances, for I care not how you humans name each other, nor how you come and go, nor where you stand, as long as it is outside the walls of my home."

Raefindan grinned at Aeron's use of the word. That which surrounds the current stance. He knew that he could never explain how such a word could mean such a thing, but there it was, and he agreed with the Elf this time.

"Let us leave here, friends."

"Aye," said Ravion. "We came to find you and Gond-"

"And Jorje!" Aeron grinned.

Ravion smirked. "-and Jorje, and have found the three of you. Let us return to Mellonin and Gwyllion."

Ravion led them outside.

[mark12_30]

"Gwyllion!"

Melonin ran to the water's edge, looking this way and that. The water was black and there was no sign of Gwyllion.

Mellonin's thoughts raced. Bubbles! The bubbles will tell me where she is!

But there were no bubbles to be seen. Horror rooted her to the ground; panic rose in her heart. She screamed, but there was no one to hear.

[Orual]

"We were fortunate that Gond had not gone any further," Ravion said, trying to sound somber, but unable to keep the smile off his face, or the relief out of his voice. "We were tracking Gond's hoofprints. If he had kept going, we might never have found you."

"Your tracking senses do not extend to inside houses?" Aeron asked jovially. Ravion glanced at him sideways.

"I would be able to find you, so put whatever thoughts you have of running off out of your mind, and--"

He broke off abruptly as they neared the campsite. "Where is Gwyllion?" he asked, his voice tense and a terrible feeling of panic growing in him. "Mellonin? Gwyllion? Answer me!"

"Ravion!" Mellonin's cry carried over to where the men were standing, and Ravion, throwing Gond's lead to Aeron, raced over to her. There was Mellonin, but still no sign of Gwyllion...

"Where is Gwyllion?" Ravion asked, trying to keep his own panic in check. Mellonin was shaking, and if both of them were unable to do anything...

"There," Mellonin replied vaguely, waving her hand over the edge of the water that she was standing in front of. "I cannot see anything. I cannot find her."

Ravion looked at the water anxiously. "Raefindan! Aeron!" he bellowed, and heard them come running. He looked once more at the water, then turned to Mellonin. "When they come, tell Aeron to join me. Do not let Raefindan! He is not strong enough yet."

He took one deep breath, closed his eyes, and dove into the water.

The water felt icy as he started swimming, trying to open his eyes despite of the dirt and cold. He could not see anything. He surfaced for air, gasping. "Anything?" Mellonin called.

"Not yet," Ravion called back. He dove back under.

He could not see anything. A constricted feeling tightened his chest, born both of frustration and of his inexperience in swimming. He had started back up when something brushed his ankle.

He thrashed around for a moment in panic, then calmed down. He surfaced briefly, ignoring this time Mellonin's call, and went under. This time he forced himself to open his eyes, and saw...something. A large black shape, and a smaller shape. Vague, certainly, but at least it was something. He tried to tred the water for a moment, attempting to get a better picture. He squinted, trying to see...

...something caught his ankle. It wrapped itself around him, jerking him down suddenly. Fighting against it, Ravion managed to surface for a moment. "Aeron!" he cried, and only managed to take one deep breath before the creature pulled him under again.

[alaklondewen]

Taitheneb leaned back in the grass with his weight on one elbow. Slowly he nibbled on a small piece of lembas bread while he watched the young people with the musician’s instrument. Throwing a glance over his shoulder he saw Erebemlin stretched out on his back looking to the sky. Taitheneb followed his gaze. A few wispy clouds glided across the heavens, but the younger elf was more interested in watching the young humans. “They have..." The elf paused to find the right word for his thoughts. "...harmony. Do you see it?” He whispered over his shoulder, but kept his eyes on Nethwador and Bellyn.

Erebemlin shook his head as though he were pulling his thoughts from somewhere else. “What, mellon? Harmony? Who?”

“The young ones…have you not seen the way they have worked together here.”

Erebemlin pushed himself up to his elbows and looked to the group of mortals. He saw them sitting while Nethwador and the lady Bellyn produced rough notes upon Liornung’s fiddle.

Taitheneb waited until he knew the other elf was looking and then continued. “They move together like a dance. Each is afraid of the other, yet enchanted in a way that they cannot remove themselves.”

Erebemlin shook his head again and chuckled slightly. “You care too much for the ways of the mortals, mellon.”

Taitheneb turned and studied Erebemlin’s face. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then quickly closed it, returning his gaze to the young humans. The elf knew Erebemlin had never married, nor found a love beyond his duty. Taitheneb on the other hand understood the beauty and wonder of eternal love…not that these young humans had found this sort of love, but they may if they continue to work and grow together.

Now Taitheneb lay back, putting his head on the prickly grass. Closing his eyes he pictured Gwaewen’s smooth and glowing face. Her eyes had always lit up when she saw him, and he would tremble when she held his hand. He missed her terribly, but he knew they would meet again upon the shining shores. Until then, he would patiently wait, feeding on his memories.

Whether he had lain there a very few minutes or an hour when Taitheneb felt a gently hand on his arm, he knew not. Opening his eyes he found, Erebemlin kneeling over him. “We must be on our way,” he said simply. Taitheneb nodded and rose. Within minutes the company had returned to their horses and was moving at a quick pace along the river.

[mark12_30]

Mellonin stood frozen on the bank, her heart in her mouth, staring at the circles on the water where Ravion had just gone under.

Do something, fool!

Far in the distance, she heard Aeron running. He had heard Ravion call. She could hear Aeron's labored breathing, and she turned; he seemed so very far away. She must do something. She looked down at her waist. Knife. I have my knife. But what good is that--

Something moved near her foot. She gasped as her foot went out from under her; inhaled a great breath to scream-- and the waters closed over her head as the tentacle pulled her under as well. Another tentacle wrapped itself around her thighs.

She remembered her knife. She drew it, and feeling with her left hand, began to slash with all her strength at the thing that held her thighs. The water grew darker. The grip around her thigh was loosening! It was gone. She curled up toward her ankle, feeling with her left hand, and stabbed at it again and again. Suddenly its strength was gone, and she was free. None too soon, for she could hold her breath no longer.

She kicked downward, but her foot sank into mud. She wrenched it loose, and kicked at the water, and kicked again, and broke the surface gasping for breath.

Beside her the water churned, and she saw Ravion's cloak. She gasped for breath, and took hold of the cloak. With one more breath she put her face in the water and pulled herself down hand over hand along his cloak. Beside her Aeron splashed into the water, and she felt a jab of pain in her arm. She pulled herself down further. Ravion was thrashing, and she saw a dark-grey arc of movement. His sword. She dodged away, and went to his left; she pulled herself down along his tunic, his belt. There was a thick tentacle wrapped around his waist. Aeron was beside her, kicking, and she saw his blade too; she moved away to Ravion's back. She was getting dizzy, and wanted only to breathe. She hacked at the tentacle around Ravion's waist. The water grew blacker still. She felt with her left hand, and hacked again.

She had to breathe. She let go, hating herself, and surfaced. She felt her foot kick something that yeilded.

Beside her Ravion came up. She reached for his shirt as he reached for her, and they both nearly went under again, but he pulled her towards shore. Aeron came up next. Mellonin's foot kicked something again; it yelded again. It felt solid. She looked down, but the water was black.

"Gwy--" She tried to point down. "Gwyl--"

Aeron dove. Seconds later he surfaced with a handful of his sister's hair, and swam hard for shore.

Aeron dragged his sister onto the tussocky shore as Ravion and Mellonin crawled out on all fours and collapsed. Ravion sucked in several breaths and then said "Further. Still too close." They crawled til he was content, and then collapsed again. Aeron dragged his sister up beside them, and sat down, holding her and wiping the reeds from her face and hair.

"Gwyllion, " he pleaded. " Gwyllion, wake up. Listen to me. Gwyllion, wake up. Gwyll!"

[mark12_30]

Amroth looked southeast, at the mountains on the far horizon, and heaved a great sigh.

Erebemlin turned to him in surprise. "My lord?"

Amroth combed Echo's mane with his fingers, and shook his head. "Erebemlin, I have searched for the touch of her mind in both Dagorlad and Gorgoroth. I found few minds in either place, and none seemed familiar. It was a difficult search, far more difficult than searching Rohan and Fangorn; at least in Fangorn there were trees to ask. And now my heart misgives me, for I do not know where to turn next."

Erebemlin was silent for a little, and then said, "My lord, you wished to follow the river; yet you have not searched its banks. I do not understand why."

Amroth looked at Erebemlin. "If she is on the river, she will find us."

Erebemlin frowned, hesitating. "Only if she is looking for us, my lord. What if she is not? What if she does not desire to be found?"

Amroth's eyes kindled, and he raised one eyebrow. "Have a care, Erebemlin."

"Lord, I do not doubt her love for you. None who knew her, or you, would do so." He took a deep breath. "Perhaps, my lord, she has been hiding from all eyes. The years were dark. If she... There were many enemies roaming far and wide. To hide from them was wisdom, my lord. Many elves did so."

"Why would she close her mind?"

"Many minds were closed during the war, my lord. The enemy's thoughts reached far and wide, and sowed much discord. It was an evil time. Lorien herself wore a cloak after the girdle of Melian."

Amroth studied his friend, doubt in his eyes. "Even so?"

Erebemlin hesitated, then nodded. "The Lady Galadriel herself made it so."

Amroth looked away from his friend, and passed his hand over his eyes. His head hurt; his eyes hurt; his heart ached. Galadriel. What had she to do with Lorien? "I did not sense the Lady Galadriel's thoughts in the forest, nor a girdle blocking me, Erebemlin."

"My lord, when the Shadow was defeated she sailed west. She is in Valimar now, I deem."

Once more, Amroth's hand passed over his eyes, this time rubbing them. It felt strangely pleasant, and he rubbed harder. As Erebemlin watched, Amroth raised his other hand to his face, and scrubbed with both hands.

"My lord?"

Amroth finished and looked down at his hands, puzzled. "Why did I do that?"

Erebemlin waited.

"You say I do not wear an elvish body, Erebemlin."

Erebemlin nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"I begin to believe you. I have little strength, no endurance, frequent pain with no wound to cause it, and my eyes hurt. Often! Can you see anything in the sky over there?" He pointed southwestward.

Erebemlin turned. "Yes, my lord. Eagles, hawks. Some sparrows. A flock of crows further west."

Amroth shook his head. "I see them not."

Erebemlin waited.

"What shall I do, Erebemlin?"

Erebemlin replied, "You had hoped to find her along the great river. Let us search the river carefully as we follow it."

"But the choking, lifeless dust?"

"That was only your last dream, my lord. You have dreamed of the water many times, have you not?'"

Amroth nodded. "Very well. We will search the river." He closed his eyes again, and breathed deeply. Why was he so very weary?

[Nurumaiel]

Argeleafa's face paled at the words of Ædegard as she stared unmovingly at him, and then a deep flush came to her face and a faint smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Thank you, Ædegard," she murmured. She fell silent and reflected once again on what he had said to her, and how he had called her 'Leafa.' A tear sprang to her eye before she could stop it, and glistened a moment in the firelight. Then she bowed her head and put a hand to her face as if to brush a strand of hair away. She hoped no one had seen the tear, for the might think it was one of sorrow, but it was not.

The eyes of the company were still on her, and Liornung realized that he should draw attention away from them. He turned to Ædegard, a teasing little smile on his face. "Ædegard, why did you not tell us of your great skill in song?" he questioned. "One would not have guessed your voice from the way you sang the rhyming songs you worked to compose. So hesitatingly you sang them, as if doubting yourself. Come," he said, the mischief clearly glinting in his eyes now, "and sing us another song before our eyes begin to close with the weariness of the day and we creep away to satisfy our desire for rest."

[Imladris]

"Gwyllion!" he cried as he slapped her as hard as he could on the face. She did not stir, her face was white and pinched, as if the life had been sucked from her. His slap did nothing to her but leave a harsh red mark upon her cheek. Aeron cursed himself and said, "Gwyllion...Gwyllion! Wake up!"

He pulled his sister to his chest and smoothed her hair. It was tangled, mud clung to it, and there was some marsh weed strung through it. He rocked her and said, "Breathe you little idiot. You cannot live if you don't breathe."

Little Gwyll...why? Why did these bad things happen? Why had that slimy thing dragged her under in the deep, muddy, slimy water? Why had she even been that close to the dratted water in the first place? She should know better. It was unfortunate that she did not fear water as much as she feared blood.

What if she died? Would she be happier? He did not know. But what use was there screaming at it, ranting at it? His crying would not stop her from dying. If she died, she would no longer be plagued about her father, nor have to have spasms of fear rack through her at the sight of blood. "Breathe...please!" he whispered, hugging her.

Her body undulated upwards, forcing the swallowed water out of her body. She gasped for breath and clutched at Aeron. "Gwyllion!" he shouted, forcing her upright and wiping the water from her mouth. "You're alive!" Alive!

She nodded and said, "Yes-- the black thing was --"

If she wasn't careful she would talk herself back into the sickness. Typical of women. He put his hand over her mouth and said, "Shush you. Rest is what you need."

"But --"

Protesting, as usual. He rolled his eyes and said, "Make it quick."

"Is Raefindan all right?"

"Of course!" he snorted. "Now, you rest!"

[Orual]

Ravion's lungs burned as he forced air into them. He was shaking somewhat, much to his humiliation. He watched as Aeron revive Gwyllion, and his own breathing became somewhat easier. He had been terribly afraid that the girl was not going to wake up. She must have been under for a very long time. She was unbelievably fortunate to be alive.

He stripped off his sodden cloak, rolling his shoulders back to rid himself of all the cricks in his back. He looked about himself wearily to try to find something with which to wipe his sword on, but could find nothing. He was too tired to look very hard. The battle in the water, then trying to get far enough away from the water to be sure that they were safe...he was worn to the bone. He was sure that Gwyllion and Mellonin were, too.

Mellonin. He looked over to her. She was breathing heavily, obviously shaken, but in an admirably gathered state of mind. She too had been watching Aeron and Gwyllion, and was still doing so. Raefindan was standing by Gond, digging in the horse's saddlebags for anything that could be of use.

"You did well back there, Mellonin," Ravion said quietly, moving to her. She looked up at him and smiled wearily. "You saved us all."

"I could hardly have done anything else," she said simply. "I could not tell whether or not you were..." She broke off abruptly.

"Capable? Obviously not, by myself." He smiled at her. "Mellonin, I would be dead now if it had not been for you. So would Gwyllion. I thank you."

He stood up shakily, gripping the trunk of a tree to support himself. "Raefindan, get some of that green fennel-looking herb, would you? It will help with our nerves. Take some yourself. It has been a hard day for us all."