Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[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.

[Imladris]

Aeron held Gwyllion in his arms: her legs dangled stiffly and her head lolled back in a ghastly way. He dropped to his knees a few feet from the fire, and turned his back on it. He didn't want to talk to anybody. Why had she died...why she of all the others?

He wiped his hand across his eyes impatiently. If...if he hadn't gone of on his own...if...he hadn't been a stupid boy, she just might have survived. But..what if she had been doomed to die? What then? Whose fault was it then?

He layed her gently down, and took a rock and began to scrape at the earth. It was cold...frozen like ice. She had to be buried. They couldn't leave her outside. Alone. For the Carrion. The rock dug into his palms as it scrabbled vainly at the dirt. Blood began to seep from his skin.

[alaklondewen]

Taitheneb studied Bellyn’s face for several moments. A lost woman…could it be that the young woman dreamed of Nimrodel? The elf knelt beside her, looking deep into her eyes. “My lady, I would have you tell Erebemlin of your dream.”

Bellyn nodded and lowered her eyes from his intense gaze.

Hoof beats drew their attention as Erebemlin and the men from the battlefield rode into the circle of the makeshift camp. Taitheneb rose and met his friend and leader. “We need to move on quickly,” Erebemlin spoke softly.

“My lord, the horses are very weary. They will be unable to carry us far.”

The elder nodded, lowering his head in thought. “We shall not go far, but we must go nonetheless. The creatures have enough to eat, but we must be out of eyesight.” Erebemlin paused as he looked at the boy, Aeron, and the corpse he coddled, and then turned his eyes once more to Taitheneb. We must find a place to bury the girl…out of the swamp. In the meantime, the body must be covered. Take a blanket to him, if you will. He may wish to do it himself, but you will be better tuned to him…I think.

Taitheneb nodded and, after pulling a blanket from his roll, he went to Aeron and offered to cover the body of his sister.

Erebemlin, in the meantime, gave the rangers the orders of getting everyone up, and Nethwador soon returned with more firewood. Good, young brother, but do not place them on this fire, we will use it tonight, but we must go. Put the fire out and tend to your lady, making sure you are ready to move as quickly as possibly.

[mark12_30]

Nethwador watched, waiting for one of the Rohirrim to protest that tho horses (and then folk) were too weary to move. But he saw Bella's eyes turn back to the battlefield, and saw the weary fear in them. He reached his hands to her, motioning her to mount behind him on Celegoer.

The Rohirrim exchanged weary glances, but Ædegard stood and called his bay. The group straggled to their feet, murmuring apologies to their horses.

"We may at least walk, those of us who are able?" asked Liornung.

Erebemlin nodded. "The injured will ride."

Argeleafa, Bella, and degard were helped up onto horses. Erebemlin prepared to lift the sleeping Amroth, glancing back at Ravion. "You will carry his sister?"

Ravion nodded; Erundil met his glance and nodded too.

Erundil helped Ravion lift Mellonin onto Gond and then mount behind. Erebemlin lifted Amroth onto his horse, balanced him, and leaped up behind him, catching him as he swayed.

Aeron glared. "And Gwyllion? What of her?"

Taitheneb walked to his side. "I will help you. Come."

Erebemlin rode to the head of the column, and the company filed behind; they stopped, waiting for Aeron and Taitheneb to take care of Gwyllion.

[littlemanpoet]

"We will stop here," Tharonwe said.

Five thousand, six hundred and seventy three. Raefindan stopped and looked around him. He had been paying no attention to his surroundings for a long time, for thousands of paces. His vision had been focused on the footsteps of his captor; he placed his feet in precisely the same place, step after step. At first it had been a matter of survival, but had turned into a kind of game. He would start his count over every time he failed to place his foot precisely in the footprint of his captor. At first he had had trouble getting past twenty. Then fifty paces trumped him over and over. Just once, he missed one hundred paces. After that, the count had continued uninterrupted. He had cast himself into a kind of enchantment that gave the merest nod to the weariness in that dragged at every cell in his body. The spell was broken. He was a human being again.

They were in a stand of trees, near a stream. Surrounding them were plains as far as the eye could see, shadowed under the night sky.

"Here." Tharonwe handed him a swamp leaf, folded into a packet. Raefindan took the packet and opened it. Waybread. He ate it quickly. It warmed his middle, and its virtue spread throughout his body, taking the weariness away. Maybe Tharonwe was not a good Elf, but an Elf he was.

"Thank you."

"I need you alive. That is all. Sleep. I will watch."

Tharonwe would not need sleep; at least not the kind Raefindan needed. He lay down, curled tightly into himself, and fell asleep.

Angela sat at the top of the dune, looking out to sea. He climbed the dune eagerly, the sand giving way beneath his feet. He slipped down the slope, farther from her instead of closer. He redoubled his efforts. The dune grew. She sat farther from him than ever. The sand slipped from under his feet. He slogged against the sand, but felt himself going backwards instead of forward. Finally he stopped. He called her name. She turned. It was not her. Her hair was dark as night. There was another with her, one with blonde hair. Angela? Her hair was too long, falling to the ground where she leaned heavily, swaying as with grief. The dune changed to a grassy sward surrounded by tall shapely evergreens. He stood at the edge. The dark haired woman saw him. "Imrazor?" "No. My name is Raefin-" No. "My name is Roy." "No, you are Imrazor. You have found me at last! Come to me!" He walked toward her, but the ground spread between them like a carpet, separating them more and more. The dark haired woman reached toward him. "Imrazor! Why do you flee?" "I'm not fleeing. I can't reach you." He looked down and saw that he was walking backwards. He stopped. No, he hadn't stopped. "I can't stop!" "Imrazor! Do not leave me!" "I'm not Imrazor, I'm Roy Edwards." "Why do you grieve me with the alien name, Imrazor?" "I have a message for you, Mithrellas." So it was Mithrellas. He wondered how he knew that. "Is it for Nimrodel?" "Yes." "It is from one who is with me. He seeks Nimrodel." "What is his name, Imrazor?"

Raefindan woke up, turned over, found that his legs were uncovered up to the knee, and covered himself. He looked for the Elf. Tharonwe stood at the edge of the stand of trees, looking northwards. Raefindan dozed.

[mark12_30]

Taitheneb helped Aeron lift Gwyllion onto a horse's back, and then held her there while Aeron mounted.

Nethwador watched them, thinking that Aeron looked both angry and sad; then the company began the weary walk southeastward. Nethwador tried several times to look over his shoulder at Bella, until she lay her head on his shoulder. Then he sat stock-still.

They walked for two hours. They were still in the swamp when they stopped, but they found a slight rise with some dead trees nearby. The hill was almost too small for the group but they huddled tightly around it, and built the fire in the middle. Laying Mellonin and Mellondu near the fire, they made beds for Argeleafa and Bella. They turned the horses loose to graze. Then they composed Gwyllion's body, taking time to shroud it well; Aeron looked on as Ravion and Erundil finished tying the shroud. Then they huddled together around the fire. Taitheneb and Erebemlin stood watch, one to the southeast, one to the northwest, while the men-folk fell quickly into a deep slumber.

[littlemanpoet]

Tharonwe probed Raefindan's dream.

He was standing before a fortress. There were no windows, and no slots for archers toward the roof. There was a door directly in front of him. He walked up to it and passed inside.

It was not a fortress. The noise was deafening and he put his hands over his ears. There were many people standing by a dais that was as long as the chamber, which stretched the length of the edifice. Everything was flat and dead and noisy, and along the dais, strange things were moving, a little bit done to them by each successive person.

Tharonwe searched Raefindan's mind and could not find the names for the things linnked to what he saw; except for one phrase: automobile manufacturing. Such a strange speech. Not a bit of the phrase had a thing to do with Raefindan's own tongue, which meant that it was to his tongue as was Sindarin to the speech of the Numenoreans.

At any rate, it was not what Tharonwe was looking for. He probed the mind of the dreamer to see what else lay there, something he could use for his purpose.