Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[mark12_30]

He blinked. Her head was against his shoulder. Her arms, slippery with blood, were wrapped... around... Around me!

His heart leaped and thundered, and he wrapped his arms around her in return. He held her tighter, tighter... she gasped and flinched. Red-faced, he released her; she reached one hand to the other arm. He saw through her slashed and torn sleeve that she was freshly bleeding.

A rising torrent of apology poured from him. She guessed at his meaning, and smiled at him through teeth that were clenched in pain, which deepened Nethwador's embarassment and half panicked him.

Erebemlin had told him to let her rest. What could he do? He knew so little about this; he touched the blood on her arm.

Water! It always started with water. He would wash the blood off. He leaped to his feet, and whistled for Celegoer, who came trotting over. He siezed his water bottle, drained it over her arms, looked about for more clean water, saw none, leaped onto Celegoer and galloped off. Bella sat with teeth clenched and arms dripping. He returned, water bottle full, and sloshed it over her arms again, drenching her sleeves; but there was blood on them still. He mounted again and galloped off.

She tried not to laugh, but could not help herself, and as he galloped back to her again, she choked between laughter and tears of pain. He sat by her again, and she took his hand. "Just stay with me, Mellon."

He washed her arms again, carefully, making the water last this time. By the time the bottle was empty, her arms were mostly clean. She took his other hand then, and holding both his hands, leaned her head against his shoulder again.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her again, but instead, he gazed down at her face, so near his. But her sleeves were drenched and the rest of her damp or wet; soon she began to shiver.

This is all wrong. I've only made things worse. And then he remembered that Taitheneb was waiting with Amroth. Taitheneb would know what to do.

He stood, pulling her to her feet. He drew her over to Celegoer, and motioned that she should mount. She struggled onto the horse, and he mounted behind her. Soon they were dismounting near Taitheneb, and Nethwador's broken Eastron-Elvish poured out of him. Taitheneb nodded.

We will care for Lady Bella. Find wood and build a fire. I will watch the lady.

Bella watched as Nethwador mounted and rode off again, and then she turned to Amroth. "What ails Lord Amroth?"

Taitheneb watched Amroth sleep for several moments, and then he said only, "Lady, if you would sing for him, it would ease my heart."

When Nethwador returned with firewood and kindling, Bella sat beside Amroth, wrapped in everything the elf had at hand, and singing. Nethwador hastily kindled the fire, and heaped on the wood; then he rode off to find more.

[Orual]

Aeron lifted Gwyllion's body and pressed it to him. He bit his lip. "What do you think?"

Ravion bowed his head. He had heard that voice before. He had used that voice before. When his best friend, Dalros, had died in battle, he had used that voice. It was empty and broken, reflecting a soul that was suddenly missing a piece. Ravion knew that it would be long before Gwyllion's place in Aeron's heart healed.

"We'll have to bury her," Ravion said softly. Aeron just knelt there and trembled with grief. Ravion did not say another word, did not touch him...it would only bring worse pain. He stood up and backed a few steps away. Aeron needed his room.

A man--Liornung? yes, that was it--came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Sir Ravion, I have not great talents in healing, such as you and the Elves, for I am a simple fiddler, yet a lone traveller in lands both tame and wild must learn some skills of healing, to care for himself and others in need. My skills I offer are not much, but if you are in need of any humble and small assistance, I sit by the golden-haired maid."

Ravion nodded his thanks, and smiled weakly. If only his skill were as great as Liornung seemed to give him credit for. Perhaps he could have helped Gwyllion...helped Ædegard more...helped the girl with the missing ear...helped Mellonin. Oh, perhaps he could have helped Mellonin more. His eyes filled with tears again. Mellonin.

He walked over to her. "Mellonin...how do you fare? Your cut is deep. Let me see to it. Are you in much pain?"

[mark12_30]

Mellonin looked up at Ravion through her tears, and saw his eyes glistening. Was she in pain? Could he tend to her? "Yes," she said.

She hardly moved as he washed her face again, and her eyes watched him. She did not flinch from his touch.

She did as he asked her, finally holding a cloth against her cheek. He sat back on his heels and considered her. "You are weary, Mellonin, and soon you will be cold if you are not already. How I wish we could get out of this swamp."

She waited.

He stood. "Come. Can you walk?"

The look in her eyes was his answer.

"Wait, then. I will bring Gond. Wait."

She said nothing, although she wearily wondered how he expected her to disobey. She felt sleepy. Fool, haven't you dreamed enough? She fought to stay awake. Near her, Aeron still held little Gwyllion. The poor thing. How she would have screamed if it had been anyone else's blood.

Before long Ravion returned with Gond, and he and one of the Rohirrim helped Mellonin onto the horse. Ravion led Gond along the same trail that Nethwador had ridden away on, and soon they came in sight of a fire. As they arrived, however, Mellonin had swayed in the saddle, and as they stopped, she slowly folded forward over Gond's neck. Ravion took her near shoulder, gathered the sleeping woman into his arms, carried her to Nethwador's fire and lay her down beside it. Nearby, Amroth slept, and Bella sang over him while Nethwador tended her wounds under Taitheneb's direction.

Ravion put two blankets over Mellonin, on the side away from the fire, and tried to make her as comfortable as he could. He stood beside her, hesitating, but then looked up at Taitheneb. "I may be needed back yonder, " he said. "Will you call me, if she wakes?"

Taitheneb nodded. I will. She is safe for now.

Ravion mounted Gond, and went back towards the battleground.

[alaklondewen]

Erebemlin stood upon the battlefield and watched the young human couple embrace. He let them be momentarily, but he knew the merlocks would shortly be finished with their meal on the young thief’s first kill and soon would be on their heels once more. “Ædegard, I must finish tending the young woman.”

Ædegard nodded and pulled Leafa from his chest, meeting her tear-filled eyes before letting her go to the elf.

“This will be brief.” The elf told her as he took her slender hand and lowered her to the ground. Pulling back her long, blood-matted hair, Erebemlin exposed the nasty wound. The flesh was mangled and torn around the opening where her delicate ear once sat. The young woman searched his face, and he met her gaze without the revulsion she seemed to expect. The elf had seen horrors beyond this and he would not let Argeleafa feel as though she was disgusting.

Erebemlin wet a cloth with a mixture he had made with the crushed leaves he pulled from the pouch that hung from his waist. As he touched the cloth to her wound, Leafa pulled back with a small cry. The elf turned quickly to Ædegard, who immediately knelt beside his betrothed and let her lean against his body. The young woman closed her eyes tightly, and Erebemlin entered her thoughts and soothed her mind. Be at peace, my lady. The elf, then, quickly cleaned the wound and bandaged it, so that the woman’s blood loss would be minimal.

“Thank you, sir.” Argeleafa smiled shyly as Ædegard helped her to her feet.

“You are welcome, lady.” Erebemlin nodded his head. “Now we must get off this battlefield and get further down the road.” The elf nodded in the direction from which merlocks came and continued. “They are temporarily distracted, and they will not be as hungry, but I would not have us waiting on them to return. There is enough meat here for them that we need not give them anything fresher to choose.” With a whistle, Erebemlin called to the four horses a few yards away. “Ædegard, take Argeleafa with you and make toward the fire.”

As the elf helped the couple onto their mount, one of the rangers, Ravion, rode from the direction where the others rested. “Master elf, may I be of any assistance?”

Erebemlin nodded. “Yes, we will need the girl’s body taken back to the others. Everyone must be gathered and taken to the fire, then we must move on before the light has move too far from the sky.”

[alaklondewen]

The sweet, soft sound of Bellyn’s voice fluttered in the ears of those who had congregated around the fire. Such terrible events had found the travelers, and the song she sang touched even Taitheneb who had heard the silvery voices of the bards of Lorien.

The young blacksmith murmured in his sleep and began to turn over. Taitheneb reached out and touched his forehead, whispering softly over him. Pausing, the elf searched for Amroth, calling his name, and even though Taitheneb could still feel his presence, the king remained silent and did not respond. Lowering his head, disappointment burned in the elf’s stomach, and he looked toward the battlefield, hoping to see the Silmaethor returning.

[littlemanpoet]

They made good time while Amroth's party attempted to heal and regroup, still wandering around the field of battle. Tharonwe did not try to pry into any of their minds. It was unnecessary. The merlocks who had died would feed those who still lived, for days, even weeks - for the merlocks did not care how decayed their food was. It turned Tharonwe's stomach to think of it, and he had endured the disgusting practices of his former servants because they were that which was ready to hand.

Now he had one servant, a human, clearly out of his element, though he tried admirably. Surely the swamp was out of his element, but Tharonwe was thinking of something more all-encompassing. There were images and thoughts lurking in Raefindan's, that is Roy's memory, that were frankly bewildering. There were bright colored carts on wheels that needed no horse, as if they had minds of their own to move here and there; except that humans controlled them from the inside, and they moved as fast as the clouds. Such a device would be quite handy. More so would be the shiny eagle-sized birds these humans made for themselves, that somehow needed no bird to tow them through the sky. And they flew as fast as the Eagles.

There must be something in this Roy's vast storehouse of memory that Tharowne could turn to his purpose, without having to build a huge fortress in which to house the iron furnaces and human-made trolls with arms and grabbers that obeyed the least command of these humans.

And there was something shouting out its absence in Roy's memory.

"Raefindan, there are no Elves where and when you come from."

"They have all gone into the West, I guess."

"No, that cannot be, for as humans of your time and place have learned the west is just one more place in Arda, and the seas have been bent and the Elves sale away from the planes of Arda altogether."

"That way is no longer known among us."

"But not all Elves go that way, and some never shall. I never shall. I care not for it. Where, then, are the Elves?"

"They are no more."

Tharonwe stopped. Could it be true? Could it be that he had no future?

"That cannot be. There must be something you do not know." Tharonwe marched even faster, forcing Roy to stumble to keep up, his feet getting muddy and cold: the water in the swamp was close to turning to ice.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

"He does not look the same," Bellyn murmured, after she had finished singing her soft melody. Taitheneb turned from where he faced the battleground, and for just a moment his brows furrowed, confused, and he looked down to where Amroth slept. Bellyn frowned. "Well, he looks the same, but he seems different. There is something different now. Is that strange?"

Taitheneb did not say anything, and Bellyn sighed as she looked down at Amroth. She gently pushed a strand of hair from Amroth's face.

"When I was asleep, I had a dream," Bellyn began, explaining to Taitheneb. "There was a fair-haired lady, and I spoke with her for a while. She said that she was looking for someone. She said that she had lost her way, but that she did not forget who she was looking for. Nothing seems to make sense anymore. It always has to be hard to figure out."

What was the song she sang? Bellyn wondered. She wanted to remember it, repeat it, sing the lullaby again.

"Agony,
Can you cleanse this misery?
For never again will I breathe
The air of home...

From this sandy edge,
The rolling sea breaks my revenge.
With each whisper,
A thousand ways I hear wrong.

I'm coming home..."

As Bellyn's voice trailed off, the gentle breeze whistled softly over the swamps and the hills and the companions that wandered the spot of land.