Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Bellyn rolled up her pack, working alone and in silence. She had dreamt a troubling dream the night before, and pondering over the meaning of it kept her dark brows knit in confusion. Before she could finish her task Bellyn was joined by a silent Liornung. The fiddler sat down besides the kneeling Gondorian woman, his eyes lost in deep thought and his face showing a horrified expression.

“Liornung? You are troubled,” Bellyn ventured, daring to speak the obvious. She hoped that only words would comfort him, because she doubted her advice and ability to help the person in which she had always confided with on the journey. Bellyn remained resolved, as always, to do her best and try her hardest to do what she could for those who had been so kind to her, but Liornung’s face seemed grave and it was early in the morning for advice and help.

“I would speak naught of it, at least until I understand it better myself,” Liornung spoke softly, and Bellyn sat down from her kneeling position. If he will not speak to me, perhaps I can take his mind off the dreadful…Bellyn thought, smiling for a moment.

“Well, I have myself in a problem just like yours, then. I had a strange dream last night, very strange indeed,” Bellyn interrupted the silence, folding her hands in her lap. She was prepared to recite what she remembered of her dream, even if Liornung would not hear it. Bella still hoped that just speaking with Liornung might help, even if it was not about the matter that bothered Liornung so. “In the dream I was falling through clouds. The clouds were dark grey, and as I fell I tried to grab the clouds but they fell through my fingers. Just when I thought I would plunge to my death…I splashed into the ocean. This did not seem much better, though, because the sea was overcome with waves and stormy skies. I could not breathe, but then someone in a boat saved me, even when the boat was being crushed by the storm. When I looked up, I saw Amroth with a raven-haired lady. Behind him stood everyone of our company! It was rather frightening, I must say.”

“You do have strange dreams, Bella,” Liornung admitted slowly, letting a smile tug at his lips a bit.

“If you do wish to talk of whatever troubles you, I will listen, as I am certain most in our company would listen,” Bellyn murmured, standing from her seat and smoothing the wrinkles in her skirts. Before she could turn or move or finish her light packing, Nethwador approached Bellyn. He moved slowly, lifting his hand and taking Bellyn’s hand in his own outstretched one. Bellyn’s brows furrowed once more, confusion once more in her eyes and face.

“Dortho…” Nethwador began, his face looking nearly as confused as Bellyn’s. “Dortho…dortho…I northa Nethwador.”

Bellyn's hazel eyes widened, her jaw dropped for just a moment. Memories came flooding back. The words...she knew the language that Nethwador spoke. The words of the elves...Bellyn thought. She recocgnized the sounds his voice made. The language that her mother and father knew. Her father had stopped speaking such words when his wife had died, and Bellyn probably knew just a little more than the Easterling before her, only remembering the phrases her mother had spoken or sung in the years past.

Doubting her ability to reply with confidence and Nethwador's ability to understand her words, Bellyn hesitated for a moment, watching Nethwador pause and blink before he repeated them again. His expression made Bellyn's heart drop, and all the phrases and songs she had memorized and all the knowledge of that Elvish language left her for a moment.

"Mellon...mae...mae govannen, mellon..." Bellyn fumbled with the first words she could think of and the first words she could force out of her mouth. Would he even understand? Bellyn doubted and doubted, not just herself or Nethwador, but for a moment she doubted everything around her. "Where did you learn this?" Bellyn knew he would not know her tongue, but her last words were gently and softly spoken as some sort of awkward afterthought.

[Nurumaiel]

Argeleafa gazed at Ædegard for many moments before she spoke, but she felt the tears of last night rising to her eyes again. She could not understand Ædegard's ill-treatment of the poor boy, so in love with Bellyn. Could she marry a man who would not assist others in gaining the longing of their hearts? Would she be left without help at times, when she most desired it?

'Ædegard,' she said at last, the tears forced down but the bitterness of them lingering in her voice, 'what you say is foolish. How can you call this boy guilty, this boy who has done nothing? Why does the guilt pass on to him?'

'The guilt was his ancestors' and it has been passed on to him, Leafa, the same way the glory of our country will be passed on to every child.'

'How can you hold him guilty?' she said again. 'Did you feel no compassion for him when he stood before you, begging you to teach him to speak so he could attempt to gain the love of his life? Did you not love me, Ædegard, when you sat by the fire each night and gazed at me, and at last when you knelt before me and asked me to wed you? Can you feel no sympathy for the boy? If you, Ædegard, sat unable to speak and there was only one to teach you, one who held a grudge against your race though you yourself had done nothing wrong, and because of it this one would not render you a simple service of teaching you to speak so you could have me, would you not weep for that? You say it is unjust!' Her tears overtook her and she dropped her head, brushing at her eyes to fight them away, and then she said again, 'How could you be so cruel to him?'

[littlemanpoet]

It was strange. Aeron had been rather quiet ever since Raefindan's request after he had tackled him. Raefindan had no idea what the boy might be thinking. Most likely about Gwyllion.

Gond had been sent into the dark wilds, tilting leeward as he went, from the poison, no doubt. Erundil slept poorly and had chills. Raefindan and Aeron waited out the night, and at last dawn came. It was a smeary, misty, uncomfortable morning, and cold. Raefindan had placed his outer layer of clothing on Erundil, and had gotten quite chilly himself, though Jorje served as a reasonable hot water bottle.

Hot water bottle. Yet another thing that had no place here. Raefindan thought of pasty colors that had no relation to anything in this world. All here was natural and of the earth, sky, or water. The colors he thought of looked like they had probably oozed from some porous extremity of earthen magma. Jorje made a much better hot water bottle. He had his own generator. Raefindan shook his head. Every thought like this reminded him that he came from another place, that he did not know where he came from, or how it was related to this place, if at all. It was time to be moving. He got up and stretched.

Just then he heard noises from down the path, the way Gond had gone. He looked, and there was a figure leading a horse. Was it the swamp elf? Raefindan got Aeron's attention and warned him with a look. They watched, anxious, expecting to defend themselves. Then they knew the figure. Raefindan let out a sigh and Aeron's mouth turned into a sneer.

Ravion walked quickly up to Erundil and asked what was wrong. Raefindan told him what had passed in the night.

Ravion's face screwed up with a tortured look. "I never should have left."

[Imladris]

Aeron half heartedly flicked the dirt off his skin after Raefindan had let him up. He had not sworn that he would not go after Gwyllion, but it would just figure to drown in a bog himself when he was looking to his save his sister's life. The grim irony of it was too awful to comprehend.

So now they had to wait...and wait...and wait. Where was she...if she had died, Aeron could not forgive Raefindan for holding him back...yet how was he supposed to know if she was dead or not? He could not go looking for her when he could not see, yet if she died it would be because he had not set out immediately. His breathing quickly as he turned the two sides in his mind. It wasn't fair...he could not win. He had to find her.

He snaked a glance at Raefindan, but saw that the red haird man was watching him closely, as though expecting him to dash off into the marshes. Aeron sighed and stared broodingly into the patch of darkness behind Raefindan's shoulder.

There was a soft rustling of grass. Probably just some rodent. Raefindan gestured to him, a frightened look glinting in his eyes. It could be the swamp elf, Aeron suddenly realized as he crouched like a waiting cat in the grass. Just let him come, he thought to himself.

But the looming form that approached was Ravion. A sneer curled about Aeron's lips as he rose to his feet his hands dangling at his sides, his fingers flexing and unflexing.

He had come back, probably expecting shouts of joyous welcome. Maybe even a welcoming embrace. He snorted.

He saw Ravion's face screw up as he said, "I never should have left."

So the idea had just occured to him, had it? "I was wondering when you would get around to noticing that -- or do you just like to repeat the obvious?" Aeron asked loudly. "You should have realized that there was some wild swamp elf on the loose especially after you resuced Raefindan from him! But no. Your pride suffered a little jab and you had to leave. You couldn't stand being brought down a notch or two."

[Orual]

Walking back to the company was an odd experience.

His heart felt light at the decision, but it still felt like he had iron chains around his feet, and he made much more noise walking than he usually did. It was very little like a Ranger, but he did not care. He dragged his feet and he made a lot of noise, and all of it meant that he kept on walking.

He heard a low, mournful neigh, and looked up sharply. He had been so deep in thought that he had not noticed the noise of an injured horse.

"Gond?" he said softly. Gond bobbed his head and turned around. He clearly meant for Ravion to follow him. The Ranger did so, stroking his horse's withers and whispering soft words to him.

As he broke through the foliage, his heart sank. Not only did he fail to see either Mellonin or Gwyllion, but he saw Erundil, his old tutor, injured much like Gond.

Without speaking to either Raefindan or Aeron, he walked to Erundil. "What happened?" he asked quietly. Erundil glanced at him, but said nothing. Perhaps he could not. Raefindan came up to Ravion and put a hand on his shoulder.

The tale that Ravion was told was not encouraging. Every word of it pierced him like a sword, and he bowed his head. It took him a moment before he could speak. "I never should have left," he said quietly.

"I was wondering when you would get around to noticing that -- or do you just like to repeat the obvious?" Ravion looked up at Aeron's sneer. "You should have realized that there was some wild swamp elf on the loose especially after you resuced Raefindan from him! But no. Your pride suffered a little jab and you had to leave. You couldn't stand being brought down a notch or two."

"Certainly not," Ravion said bitterly, but the bitterness was directed at himself, not at Aeron. He took a deep breath, sending sorrowful glances to Aeron and Gond. He dug into one of his horse's saddlebags and took out some herbs. He made from the herbs a quick poultice and put it against Erundil's wound. "All of this is of my making," he added.

"I should say so," Aeron snapped.

Ravion turned to him slowly, a look of deep sorrow and pain in his eyes. Aeron glared at him still. The younger Ranger went up to the boy, knelt on one knee, and, taking the boy's hand in his own, pressed it to his forehead. This was what he had been dreading. "Please," he said quietly, almost inaudibly, "I beg your forgiveness. I have done wrong: no, much, much more than that. I cannot even express it. Aeron, Raefindan, I put myself into your service. I do not know how I can regain your trust, or if I ever can. But I hope that I can be of some use to you. I see that all I have sown here was misery and pain: for you, for Mellonin, Gwyllion, Erundil, for myself." He stood. "I await your command."

[Imladris]

Aeron glared at Ravion. Why was he doing this? He was complicating things by apologizing and having that tortured look etched into his face. He was so angry at him -- it had been his fault that Gwyllion had gone. If he hadn't decided to go off on his own then they would never have had to back track.

Yet....was it really worth the energy to stay angry at him? He was back now. Being angry would not bring Gwyllion back no matter how much of it he launched at the stupid Ranger.

He held out his hand and said, "I suppose I could forgive you..."

He winked at him.

[littlemanpoet]

Raefindan smiled to see Ravion kneeling before Aeron, and Aeron's face working through surprise, discomfiture, then acceptance. Ah, life was good.

"I hate to break up the party, my friends, but we have a serious matter on our hands that must be dealt with at once. Ravion, I only accept the lead because you do not. I'll speak no more of it, for now. You are the ranger and the one who knows the most of the healing arts. What can we expect for Gond and Erundil? And what are our chances of finding Mellonin and Gwyllion?"

A cold voice came from over the water. "You have no chance of finding them."

It was the elf, standing on the far side of a pond, beyond the throw of any knife. He had bow and arrow stretched taut, aimed at Raefindan.

"Do not think you can do aught for them, for it is I who have taken and hidden them. They are under my power, and you would do well to remember that."

"They better not be dead!" Aeron shouted in fury.

The arrow's aim switched from Raefindan to Aeron. "They are not dead until I choose. They are more useful to me alive. You will do as I say if you wish to see them again."

"What do you want?" Raefindan asked.

"Go back to Gondor. Leave my lands."

"Lands?" Aeron muttered with a smirk. "He means waters."

Ravion turned to Raefindan. "He does not want us to go north, I think."

Raefindan nodded. "We shall leave your swamp. We've been trying to. We will continue north."

"You will not! Go back to Gondor, or you will receive back only corpses!"

Raefindan thought quickly. It was paramount to save the lives of Mellonin and Gwyllion, despite their quest.

"We will do as you say. But we cannot go until our party is healed from the wounds you have caused."

"They will be well by nightfall. Know that I have worse poisons should you try anything foolish. Get horse and man on their feet and be on your way at once, or one of you shall receive another wound, only this time the poison will kill. Do as I say. At Once!"

"Ravion," said Raefindan, keeping his eye on the elf, "see to Gond. I don't trust this elf, but I don't see any help in inviting an early death. Aeron, help me get Erundil to his feet."

"We should fight!" Aeron said, his face working with rage at the elf.

"I would at the drop of a hat - if I had one - but we must stay alive and see that Gwyllion and Mellonin are brought back to us, safe."

"If he does not lie," Aeron pointed out.

"Yes, that has occurred to me. Our situation is bad. We must trust an elf we know we cannot trust, or die. Give me aid with the ranger."

Aeron frowned with frustration and nodded, and the two got the ranger to his feet.

"You shall go the way your errant ranger was taking," said the elf.

"I think he means me," Ravion said ruefully.

"Ravion, you lead with Gond," Raefindan said. "We will follow."

They marched down the path as it wound through the swamp. The sun reached its zenith and they stopped to eat. When they were done, Aeron spoke his mind.

"That elf is gone. Let us go look for them!"

An arrow skewered the wet earth within inches of Aeron's hand.

"I think your answer is given," said Raefindan.

They marched all afternoon, and darkness fell. Erundil and Gond had improved. They set up camp in the driest spot they could find, slept the night, fitfully, without a watch, for Raefindan concluded that they were under as careful a watch as could be had.

The sun rose, and Erundil and Gond were well again, though Erundil was pale. They broke their fast and marched on, sure that an elf was not far away, an arrow trained on them at all times. The long day past without incident, and night came on again, still with no end to the swamp. But Ravion assured them that they were at least headed back toward Gondor. They slept the night without watch again.

When they woke, Gwyllion lay amongst them in a deep sleep, her face pale and drawn, as if she had witnessed a loved one's death.