Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[mark12_30]

Amroth took a deep breath, and with it, savored Bella's promise. He nodded. "The courage of a lady is both glorious and beautiful. I treasure it, lady, for it reminds me of one I love more than life." Bella looked at him in surprise; beside him, Nethwador watched her also, his eyes brimming with tenderness under which a fire yet burned.

She looked back at Amroth, unsure what to say.

Amroth looked from her to Nethwador, to the rest of the company, and back at her, and spoke again. "Think not that you burden me. I have left home, country, and kingdom for my Nimrodel. Yet I grieve not for Laurelindorinan. You, new friends and old, have become my bond-kin. Among you I find fealty, strength, pity, courage, and gladness. Dawn after dawn, I rise and search with the strength and fealty I find in all of these my friends. Yet though I gain fealty and courage from all of you, little thanks do I give you. The fault is mine; forgive me. I thank you now."

"All is forgiven, for my part, " Bella replied.

Amroth bowed his head, and continued. "Yet further service you, Bella, have rendered me," he said.

She shook her head, and waited with knitted brows.

"Though I seem to touch Nimrodel in my dreams, the touch is dark and hopeless, and in many ways brings me no comfort. Seeing you in the dawn strengthens my sweet memories of her. Your grace reminds me of hers. When I hear you sing, I remember her song. The light on your dark hair reminds me of the shine in hers. Your walk reminds me of her dance, your laughter reminds me of her joy. And so the despair gives way again to hope." He studied her. "Lady Bella, hope is a gift indeed. And you give it me dawn after dawn."

Bella had already blushed, but when she glanced at Nethwador and saw worship in his eyes, she turned crimson. Rising hastily she curtseyed, stammered "Thanks, my lord; By your leave, my Lord-- thank you, my lord, " and retreated to join the Rohirrim.

Taitheneb brought breakfast. Erebemlin raised one eyebrow as he received his bread and wine. "Bella is fair for a man, lord Amroth, but surely you liken a sparrow to a nightingale." Nethwador glared indignantly at Erebemlin.

Taitheneb gave food to Nethwador and Amroth, and turned to bring Bella her breakfast, but Amroth halted him with one hand.

Raising his wine in salute to Erebemlin, Amroth said, "I am hemmed round by hawks, faithful and stern. In such company, the song of the sparrow is a sweet gift and her gentleness provides real joy, my friend." Amroth sent a wry but sparkling glance toward his tall friend. "See to it, my faithful Hawk, that you do not mistake the charming sparrow for a mere mouse. Great would be my wrath. Yet mine would pale beside my young brother."

Erebemlin laughed, and flinched from Nethwador in mock-terror. "Ai! Ai!"

Amroth turned to Nethwador. "Bella has no breakfast; see to it, little brother."

Nethwador gathered Bella's food, forgetting his own, and eagerly brought it to her. A few minutes later, Taitheneb brought Nethwador his forgotten breakfast, but not til Bella had shyly given Nethwador a peice of her bread.

[mark12_30]

Mellonin, alone for a moment at last, took several deep, ragged breaths, and then walked to the stream. She brushed off her clothes as she could, washed her hands and face several times, and after sniffing the water, drank some. She was quite cold when she finished, but she paused, and squinted at her reflection in the water.

She was disappointed; she had hoped that she would resemble her brother, but all she saw was a red-faced, red-eyed girl with dishevelled and torn hair wearing boys' clothing.

Why was she trying to act like a man anyway? As if she wanted to become one? Hardly.

No, she reminded herself, it was simply safer for men to travel than for women to travel. Travelling with a woman made her companions vulnerable to the wolves. She took a deep breath. In order not to further endanger Raefindan, Ravion, and dear sweet Gwyllion, she thought, she must pull herself together, and fight, and be brave and strong.

She looked back at the camp. Ravion and Raefindan were setting up camp. Gwyllion was sitting on the ground beside Gond. Aeron was on the far side of the horse. She took a deep breath, and another, and set her jaw and marched back to camp. She walked past Raefindan with a nod, and past Ravion who did not meet her gaze, and went to Gwyllion, and put one hand on her shoulder.

"Gwyllion, we need water for the tea and the stew. Will you come and help me carry it?"

[Imladris]

So after Mellonin had punched him the nose, torn his sister from him, she wanted Gwyllion to help her carry water. "Excuse me," he said, turnin his head and staring down his nose at her, "but I was talking to her. And, would you please leave us be."

Gwyllions forehead crinkled in a frown, and her mouth opened. Aeron sent her a warning glare which promptly made her shut it.

"But I need help," Mellonin protested.

Aeron stood up, and shook the hair out of his eyes. Her eyes were red with tears -- he had not cried of course -- and her cheeks were puffy. He glared at her. "So, you are strong enough to fight yet not to work. My isn't that convenient for you."

He could see Gwyllion cringe as Mellonin took a deep breath. Her eyes flashed and her fingers were beginning to clench. Then she buttoned up her limps and stomped away.

"Stupid, lazy, woman," Aeron muttered as he began to groom Grond.

"So what conversation were we having?" asked Gwyllion, smiling a little at him.

"I don't want you working with her. She's a....a...." he muttered something unintelligable.

"Aeron, I am sorry," said Gwyllion softly.

Aeron looked at her, her brown eyes so soft and sad. Why did she look at him like that? It was annoying, it made him feel as if he liked her again. "I'm still mad at you," he said, trying to frown.

"I thought that I was dead to you," said Gwyllion, winking.

Aeron scoffed. "You silly thing, Gwyllion."

"I still think that you could have been nicer, Aeron."

Of course she would get around to that. It was the typical female gentleness glimmering through her. "I told the truth."

"But --"

"Oh would you just come off it!" he shouted, punching her lightly on the shoulder.

"It?"

"I don't know, ask Raefindan." What was it referring to anyway? He shrugged. What did it matter. It stated his feelings exactly.

[mark12_30]

Mellonin made two trips to the stream, eyes locked on the ground each way, filling four water skins. She reached for the kettle to make a third trip, but a hand was placed over hers. Raefindan took the kettle. "Walk with me, " he said.

They walked to the stream together.

At the stream, Raefindan set the kettle down, and spoke.

"Tell me of your brother."

She heaved a deep sigh, and nodded. "He is gentle, and helpful, and kind. And he never gives me orders and never mocks me."

"Unlike our young friend yonder."

"Very unlike."

"Your brother loves you very much."

"He would always help me. Always cheer me. He never gave me cause for sorrow."

Raefindan frowned. "Never?"

"Never, " she repeated, firmly. "He was the kindest, gentlest boy I've ever known. He always listened, always cared, always gave me aid. I never bore a struggle alone; he was always by my side."

Raefindan nodded. "Now he cannot share your sorrow. But to make matters worse, he is the cause of it. Is he not?"

One hand went to her lips, and she nodded, but frowned, and shook her head. "I promised I would be strong henceforth, " she choked.

Raefindan said, "Then be strong enough for honesty." He waited.

After several tries she said through her teeth, "Why did he leave me? Why? How could he do that to me?" Anger and grief mixed in her face, and she pressed both hands to her lips and fought back the tears. Raefindan put one hand on her shoulder, and she grasped his forearm. He waited as her angry tears fell. They subsided, only to be followed by tears of sadness.

By the time they returned to the camp with the kettle of water, Ravion had the rest of the camp ready and was tending to Gwyllion with Aeron's help. Raefindan and Mellonin set a rock in the fire and set the kettle on the rock.

[littlemanpoet]

As night fell, Raefindan sat next to Aeron before the fire. Ravion sat across from Raefindan; Gwyllion was hunched near the fire to Aeron's right. To Raefindan's left, Mellonin stared balefully at the flames, and between her and Ravion snuggled Jorje, close enough to the fire to feel its warmth, not so close as to get his tail snagged by an errant cinder.

Raefindan cast a measuring glance at Aeron, whose brows were furrowed. The red haired man considered the boy, if boy he was. A man or boy fighting with a young woman simply was not done; at least, not where Raefindan came from. It was considered in bad taste; but worse, it was misogynist.

Raefindan stopped in his mental tracks.

What kind of word was that? It was from wherever he had been before here, and whatever its roots, it meant that a man or boy hated women. Now, this could not be true of Aeron, as such, for he cared deeply for Gwyllion, having spent great energies and huge lies persuading them to take her with. Unless she was the only female he allowed himself to care for. If he was really a he. If he was actually a she, well then, fighting a young woman was no longer beyond the pale. Raefindan cast Aeron another glance and considered. Imagine, two women dressing up as young men... Aeron certainly did the better job of faking it, if he - or she - was faking it. It was hard to tell if Aeron had the chin scruff typically ascribed to adolescent boys.

Raefindan stopped in his mental tracks again. Adolescent? He rolled his eyes and let the word pass. Youth, then. And Aeron's fighting had been far more masculine than Mellonin's, come to think of it.

Raefindan stopped in his mental tracks yet again. Masculine. He shook his head and plowed through to the next thought, strange words be hanged! No, this was most likely a boy. Which brought Raefindan back around to the original quandary.

Raefindan stopped - momentarily - and plunged forward. This boy did not act like someone who wanted to beat women on a regular basis. Rather, he seemed like one whose ire had been piqued - Raefindan sauntered forward in his thought - and he had acted out of the norm. Fair enough. But he had been quite willing to act out of the norm, and seemed now to act as if he had done no such thing. Leaning upon the wealth of knowledge he had earned from he knew not where - smirking inwardly at the irony - Raefindan concluded that Aeron had had a difficult childhood, forced to make do on his own, and had not had the priviledge to learn the finer points of etiquette; perhaps hadn't learned the not so fine points, for that matter.

Raefindan held back from deciding it was his duty to teach the lad such lessons, for it would do no good if Aeron desired no such training. But at least it helped explain the situation, and seemed more likely to be accurate than not.

One question remaind in Raefindan's mind. Aeron was apt to shout "women!" from time to time. Where had he learned that, and what did it mean to him? Why not find out?

Raefindan breathed deep and sighed. "Ah, the night smells fresh, does it not?"

He glanced at Aeron, who turned away.

Raefindan shrugged. "I only wish to converse, Aeron."

Aeron's eyes flickered to Raefindan's face. "Con ... verse. What kind of word is that? I know verse, but what is con?"

"Another of my useless words. It means to talk together."

Aeron shrugged. "Talk if you like."

"Well," Raefindan said, "I'm wondering who taught you that way of referring to the fairer sex; I refer to your penchant for shouting in frustration, "Women!"

Aeron squinted his eye at Raefindan. "You have been too much in your own head, Raefindan. I have no idea what you just said."

"Which words threw you off?"

What is re-fearing? How do you chant with a pen? And fresh and tray and shin? Nobody but you would put those words together."

"Forgive me, Aeron. Useless words again. I'll try again. Who taught you to yell "Women!" when you are upset with a lass or lady?"

Aeron shook his head. "How in Middle Earth that was the same thing as fresh shins and trays and chanting with pens, I could not guess. But to answer your question..."

[Orual]

Ravion paced by Gond, his hands behind his back. "I need to talk to you, Mellonin," he said quietly. Gond looked at him impassively. "Mellonin, do you have a moment? I would have a little of your time, if you are not otherwise occupied." Gond whinnied and shook his head. Ravion sighed. "I agree. Poorly done."

He leaned against Gond's neck, burying his face in his horse's mane. "She will not listen," he said, his voice muffled. "But that will be fine: I will not know what to say."

He stood up and went over to Mellonin. Raefindan was speaking with Aeron, so Ravion hung back momentarily. However, when he realized that they were in a lighthearted conversation, he rested his hand gently on Mellonin's shoulder. She whirled around.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, still tense.

"Mellonin, do you have a moment?" he asked.

"I--"

"Because I would have a bit of your time, if you are not otherwise occupied," Ravion continued, right over Mellonin. There was an awkward silence, and Ravion cringed. Luckily it was almost imperceptible.

"I...am not otherwise occupied," she said hesitantly, following Ravion away from the cluster. "Ravion, what is this--"

"Mellonin, I am afraid that I said something to offend you," he said abruptly. She broke off. "I do not know what it was. But...I did not wish to offend you." His voice dropped and became very quiet. "There are few things I wish less." He coughed, and his voice regained its volume. "And quarrels within a company such as ours leads to lack of...care, and lack of care can lead to hurt. If there is something that needs to be settled, I would like to settle it as soon as possible."

Gond whickered in the background disapprovingly as Ravion awaited Mellonin's response.

[Nurumaiel]

Liornung tripped merrily here and there, humming softly under his breath and doing nothing in particular. He paused a moment by the horses to stroke them and whisper to them in the Rohirric tongue, and then he would move on to rummage through his pack to make sure nothing was lost. At last he sat and picked up his fiddle and began to lightly play a little tune. Argeleafa had in the meantime awoken and came hesitatingly towards him. When he looked up at her and smiled she gained in confidence and stood before him, and said, "Liornung, I would beg the favor of speaking with you alone for a moment."

"Why, yes, most gracious lady of song and dance," he said, standing once again, "though I have never seen you dance." She smiled faintly at him; there was no doubt about his mood today: he was most happy and cheerful. He offered her his right arm, and she took it, and he continued the tune he had been playing as he led her apart from the group. At a safe distance where they would not be heard, he laid his fiddle gently down and studied her face intently. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, and she seemed eager, yet she also seemed anxious. Liornung could hardly suppress a chuckle, for he knew what she desired to speak about.

"Liornung, you have always seemed to be very intelligent, and dare I say wise," she said. He laughed and bowed low, and while she did not seem annoyed by this it seemed to disturb her, and she grasped his arm, saying, "Please stop a moment and listen. What I have to say, or rather ask, is very serious."

Liornung held back the playful remark that sprang to his lips and let his face fall into an expression grave and somber. After all, she did seem to consider her question very serious, and as he reflected on it he supposed it was. "You no doubt heard the conversation last night," she said, "and heard how Bellyn asked me what I thought of Ædegard, and how I answered, and how he told me he should try to turn my 'maybe' into a 'yes.' I will tell you truthfully, Liornung, that I do not think I am unwilling to say 'yes' next time I am asked that question, but I do not know if it would be wise."

"And why not?" said Liornung, very, very gravely, though inwardly he was roaring with laughter.

"Because I know nothing about Ædegard, save that I think him very kind, and very good."

"I should think that would be enough."

She seemed confused at this. "Well... I... you see, I want to go about this concern as my mother would have wished. That is, I should like to know more about him before I consent to his... attentions."

"What a modest little thing you are," said Liornung. "Do you mean consenting when he asks you to wed him?" She blushed violently but nodded. He smiled. "Leafa, you think he is good, and I think he is good, and the company thinks he is good, and from the stories of his past he has told us he has always acted in a good way; also he loves you deeply, and you have few doubts left that you love him as well. What more do you wish?"

"I... don't know," she said, and then cried out, "What is his home like?"

"How hard you try to be proper! Your mother would wish you to marry a man you knew about, a man you knew was good and would care for you. In other words, she would want you to be careful. I will tell you about his home. His home is Rohan, and Rohan is his home. And he is good, and he would take care of you, which is what you need. Again I say, what more do you wish?"

"But it seems too easy!"

The laughter that he had held within him burst forth, and he took her hands, gazing mirthfully into her face. "Little girl, little girl!" he said. "For you are a little girl. If it is easy is that not good? Would you enjoy to hear that he was in fact a tyrant, that he was a rogue, because that would be hard? Aren't you glad that he is good and kind, that he will take care of you? Lassie, if he asks you to wed him say 'yes' without hesitation. Tell him you will marry him; it will make you both happy."

"Perhaps I will," said she, "but I should like to consider it more."

"Persist in foolishness as long as you wish," said Liornung. "As long as you follow my advice in the end you will be all right. Shall we return?" She nodded silently and he picked up his fiddle again and began to play and sing a little song as they went back to the others.

"As I was walking one morning
not intending to go very far
I came to where the waves lapped
against a little hill by the shore.

And there was a lad there
and he walked to and for
and stern and fair were his features
as he stood on the hill by the shore.

He turned and smiled at me
and then I could not ask for more
for dearly I loved him at that sight,
the lad on the hill by the shore.

He sat beside me and spoke
of things of ancient lore
and of many things he told me
as we sat on the hill by the shore.

We sat together till evening;
with each minute I loved him more
and I wished he loved me too,
the lad on the hill by the shore.

When night came he took my hand
and said love for me he bore.
Happier I have never been
than there on the hill by the shore.

And then he said he could not stay
and I would never see him more
and down the path he went away,
away from the hill by the shore.

His words were true, my heart he broke,
and never did I see him more
I had hoped to stay a little while
with the lad on the hill by the shore."