Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[mark12_30]

Mellondu looked up at Ædegard, and there was a twinkle in his eye. "What do you know of myself, friend? All you knew was one small glimpse, given you in a snow-keep. Helbs Deeb, as I recall."

Ædegard laughed, and then his smile faded. "It is well I played in the snow when I did; I doubt that I shall again."

Mellondu smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Has the road so matured you beyond all play?" He warmed to the jest. "Alas then for the bold and stalwart shieldmaidens, thus bereft of fearless leader and fair-faced lord. Will you leave them each with a coldly broken heart?"

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Ædegard left Bellyn and Nethwador, and as he walked away Bellyn turned to Nethwador with a smile on her face. His eyes still followed the back of Ædegard, and Bellyn put her hand on his shoulder.

"It is a good thing you did, Mellon," Bellyn murmured. She had gotten used to the idea of him not understanding her words, and had gotten even more used to speaking to Nethwador anyway. Bellyn almost felt like it did not matter that their language was not the same. "Thank you for being understanding."

Nethwador smiled goofily, making Bellyn laugh. Bellyn looked over her shoulder, seeing Ædegard speaking with an awakened Amroth. Nethwador will want to see him, said one part of Bellyn. The other told her to give Ædegard a minute alone with his friend, before the excitement of Nethwador.

"I had a dream last night, Mellon," Bellyn said to Nethwador with a sigh. "Stone and dust, rock and darkness...the woman was there again, calling out for her lover. I did not understand her sadness...much like you do not understand my words, I suppose."

Bellyn wondered why things seemed like they were over, though she knew they were not. They still had to find Nimrodel, find Amroth's love. They had left the man, the red-haired man, the one Bellyn had never met. I should have liked to meet him, though...Bellyn thought. He saved us. Why do we leave him? They did not leave us when the evil one had us captive.

"Mellon, your friend wakes," Bellyn said to Nethwador after a long pause, turning him on his feet to see where Amroth had woken.

"Bella!" Nethwador said, happily pointing to Amroth. He went speedily off to see him, and Bellyn watched with a weary smile on her face.

Things change too quickly, I fear, Bellyn thought sadly.

[littlemanpoet]

Ædegard smiled. "I am no lord, just a poor wainwright." He looked at the place where his left hand should be and began to raise it, but did not wish for Mellondu to pity him, and he lowered it again. He had been about to say that he would not even be a wainwright anymore, but a beggar. He did not want to add that to Mellondu's heavy Elven load.

"The hearts of the shieldmaidens must be broken at any road, for I am betrothed." He glanced to Leafa and Mellondu followed his eyes. Had Mellondu not known?

"Tell me, Mellondu, if it is not too much to think on-" he paused, hoping not to offend. "-when the Lord Amroth rises in you, do you sleep? Do you let him rise? Or does he hold you down?"

[Nurumaiel]

Liornung's arms were folded; a self-satisfied smile was on his face, and he looked as though he was proud of some great task he had achieved. Leafa's eyes were wide and full of joy, and she could not refrain a small burst of a laugh when she saw the look on the fiddler's face. "Oh, Liornung, what causes you such satisfaction with yourself?" she said.

He remained silent for a time, absorbed in his thoughts, and then he shook himself with a laugh lower but longer than her own, and the laugh was full of amusement, but also of deep wonder. "Why is it that men form alliances in the midst of war?" he said, only partly addressing her. "In battle, when you would think that only hate and hardness would prevail, good-will arises."

"The foes press on from every side," said Leafa, "and the two men, caught in the circle formed about them, are slowly pushed towards each other, until they stand side by side and fight."

Liornung laughed again, louder this time, and Leafa was amazed at the youthfulness in his voice. Always before he would laugh like a full-grown man, but now he laughed like a boy who has not yet seen the pass of childhood, and she realized again that he was not as old and fatherly as sometimes he might seem. "What a verse it will make for the Ballad," he said. "Ædegard and Nethwador begin to show some signs of friendliness towards each other. Leafa, my dear, we may be pleased with ourselves."

"With ourselves? What have we done, Liornung?"

"Ah, my little one, it seems to you that it was all the doing of Ædegard and Nethwador. I will admit they took the most important step: one extended a hand of friendship, and the other took it. But when you think of how we encouraged them! We were friendly towards Nethwador and accepted him as part of our company, and so we showed him that we were his friends. And, by the same friendliness to Nethwador, we instilled an idea of friendship in Ædegard. I feel immensely proud."

"You may feel proud, Liornung," said Leafa, with a smile, "but I feel as though I have had no part in bringing about such good." And her eyes turned adoringly to Ædegard.

Liornung smiled. "Of course," he said, softly so she would not hear, "only he."

[mark12_30]

Mellondu pondered Ædegard's questions, and felt Erebemlin listening eagerly.

Well should the elf seek the answer; Mellondu sought it himself.

He thought back to his early dreams, the wonder, the longing, the passion, the beauty. The romance.

In the city, Mellondu had seen Queen Arwen many times, and each time had been amazed, and deemed her matchless. Yet now in his dreams, a golden nightingale had nearly challenged the beauty of the queen. A voice like falling silver, white limbs, hair like the sun-- he had worshipped her, this nightingale, this golden reflection on the tossing sea of his dreams. He longed for nightfall that he might dream of her agan. And then he heard the voice.

I must find her. Aid me in my search; I must have your aid. Will you help me find her?

Find her? Find this angel, this nightingale, this dream of dreams? See her, listen to her voice-- perhaps even hear her sing? Amroth barely finished his question before Mellondu's eagerness answered him.

All else had been forgotten. Mellondu let himself be swept along by the king's passion, his memories, his hopes, his dreams. More and more, Mellondu made the king's quest his own. Finding her filled his thoughts, his dreams, became his every breath. Awestruck by the king he yielded to his every whim, beside himself with wonder and half sick with the sad, longing, desperate emptiness of it all. He had come to accept the sickness as part of the quest. Was it lovesickness? He did not ask. The king was sick too, between longing, and obsession, and dissatisfaction with all else that was not Nimrodel. Together Mellondu and Amroth poured themselves out in the search for Nimrodel.

Then Tharonwe had threatened his sister. He had felt Tharonwe tearing at Amroth, felt Amroth's rage at Tharonwe, and Mellonin had been a playing-peice in the balance; nothing more. All the beauty, hope and longing, the dreams, the trust, the hero-worship-- it all shattered when Amroth failed to fight for Mellonin, and the shattering reached to his very soul. Despair hammered at him, bitter with betrayal.

Mellondu shuddered.

Ædegard still waited for his answer.

Mellondu said, "I loved what he loved. And I loved him, as a friend, as a lord, almost as a brother. I trusted him. I wanted to find her more than anything. "

Ædegard glanced at Erebemlin, who waited, watching.

Mellondu dropped his gaze, and studied his sister. "It all seems so empty now, " he murmured. "She's hurt. She doesn't belong out here, in a swamp, with vermin and predators and swords and arrows and darts. She does laundry, for pity's sake."

"Peace, Fingon, " said Erebemlin. "Do not grieve what you cannot change. And do not regret your love of the king."

"I do regret it, " Mellondu replied bitterly. "I was a fool."

[mark12_30]

Nethwador stood off to one side, watching, listening, waiting. Everyone looked so worried and upset. Mellondu was back again, so that meant Amroth was hidden. He will be back. They worry too much.

Taitheneb turned with a half-bemused glance, and his face softened into the barest hint of a smile.

Nethwador was tempted to laugh out loud. Nothing could darken this day. Bella had smiled at him, had spoken to him, had touched his arm. Yesterday, she had laid her head on his shoulder. Life was good.

He turned. She was watching him. He smiled at her, turned away, but then glanced back again.

Mellondu could wait; they were being far too gloomy for a glad morning such as this. I will see to Bella.

Taitheneb held back a chuckle, and nodded. The lad's joy was easily caught, and Taitheneb was glad of it. When Bella has time, perhaps she could sing.