Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[alaklondewen]

Smoke and light poured through the door of the inn into the cold night air as the band of travelers returned from their visit with the Gondorian family. The common room was warm in contrast to the air outside. A warm fire glowed in the fire place lighting the face of the ranger who sat before it.

“Why Master Aeron!” Raefindan stepped toward the boy as Erebemlin finally noticed the young thief beside the ranger.

The Elf watched the humans greet the boy, but Erebemlin stood behind them, irritated that the foolish youth thought he could just turn up unexpectedly after running away like a child and then rejoin the company. The boy did not receive a welcome from the tall Sinda, rather the Elf returned to his room to speak with Taitheneb.

[alaklondewen]

Taitheneb could not help but show his relief when Erebemlin opened the door and entered the small room in the inn. “Silmaethor, have you brought news?”

Erebemlin eyed Tharonwe, who smiled mockingly at the tall elf, and then faced Taitheneb again. “Have you eaten your evening meal, mellon?”

“Aye, we had a meal brought to us here. A few pieces of bread and cheese are left if you would…”

Erebemlin held up his hand before his companion could finish. Shaking his head, he sat upon the bed and leaned against the wall, stretching his arms and placing his hands behind his head. Erundil shifted his weight in his chair, catching Erebemlin’s attention. “The other humans are in the common room if you wish to join them.” The elf glanced sideways at the ranger before looking back up at the ceiling.

“In that case, I will take your leave, Master Elf.” Erundil rose and crossed the room.

Taitheneb studied Erebemlin with a frown at his aloofness toward the man. “I thank you, Erundil.”

“As do I, Master Ranger,” came the patronizing voice of Tharonwe.

Erundil glanced at the elder elf on the bed, then the swamp elf, and nodded to Taitheneb before he slipped out of the door.

“Now, young one, what news have you brought us?” The swamp elf leaned back on his hands and tipped his head to the side.

Erebemlin closed his eyes and bit his tongue at being called young one. After a moment, he sat forward, facing Taitheneb. “We will leave at Dawn in three days.”

Taitheneb looked at him questioningly and then asked, “And which direction will we head, north or south?”

“The boy has agreed to finish the quest. We will pass through the Southern Gate.”

Taitheneb raised his eyebrows, and then laughed light-heartedly. “Why, Silmaethor, that is wonderful news!”

“Ah yes, wonderful news. You will be wasting your time on a hopeless quest.” Tharonwe sneered. “I am sure your Lord Amroth would be proud of your efforts. Of course, it is a pity he will never see it.”

“Quiet, Dark One!” Erebemlin glared at the swamp elf. “It is a pity you will never see the joy upon Nimrodel‘s face when she looks upon her love and my king.” The tall Sinda turned to Taitheneb. “I have thought much about what action we should take against this snake.”

Taitheneb nodded, having wondered what would be done as well.

“Tomorrow, we will bring him before King Elessar. The king will be better able to care for him, and then we can be rid of his presence...for good.”

[littlemanpoet]

Raefindan sat at table listening to the others talk. Silence agreed with him, for the most part. He had much to think about. Such as the fact that he was Raefindan here. That was settled for him now. He had memories of being Roy Edwards in the future, and memories of being Imrazor in the past. Which was he? All three. But how? How was he as Roy dreaming himself as Raefindan, failing to wake up for weeks at a time? Was Maegeleb whom the others called Tharonwe correct? So far, no other explanation fit the facts as well. So how was he dreaming this? How was he, Raefindand, dreaming himself as Imrazor? Indeed. He had no idea. Well, he had an inkling. He chuckled to himself at coming up with that word, but held his peace.

So here, now, he was Raefindan. And he was determined to do all he could to help Amroth find Nimrodel. But why should it matter? Why did it matter? He did not know yet, but that would not stop him. No, it drove him on.

But why me? he asked himself. He could think of nothing about himself that made him specially suited to helping Amroth find Nimrodel .... except that he was Imrazor. ... or dreamed that he was Imrazor. Did it really make any difference which way it was? No, it did not, because his experiences as Imrazor affected him just as much as his experiences as Raefindan. And as Roy. But was that it? What use had the Powers for bringing Imrazor back into it? Ah, but he wasn't just Imrazor. He was indeed that man of Numenorean descent, half-elvish it was, who happened to have extensive knowledge of a certain set of books! But weren't they fiction? Suddenly his head hurt.

You are ill of mind, Roy Edwards, Maegeleb had said.

Raefindan shook his head ruefully. Anyway, he was forced by his current circumstances to regad those books as history unfeigned! So why did the Powers want him involved, knowing what he knew? He had no idea. But he was determind to find out.

"What cud are you chewing with such determination, Raefindan?" asked Ædegard.

"Hm?" Raefindan raised his brow and looked at Ædegard across the table, Leafa seated him his left, Liornung on her other side, with Bellyn across from him. Aeron and Liornung sat at another table. "Oh, dreams within dreams."

"You riddle as much as ever, Raefindan," Ædegard smirked.

"I fear to say too much that would do those within my hearing no good."

"You? You speak such wisdom!"

"So I try, Ædegard, so I try, but that does not keep me from being foolish betimes. But I am glad that we will continue the quest."

"Think you that Mellondu is ready? He did not seem so," Ædegard asked.

"I do not know," Raefindan said. "I surely hope so, or we will be battling against ourselves the whole way!"

[mark12_30]

The house emptied.

Father now had many more questions, and Mellondu and Mellonin answered him, taking turns. Father's questions made Mellondu uncomfortable, because he asked mostly about Amroth. Answers came from Mellondu slowly and haltingly.

As the house darkened, Mother touched Mellondu's hand. "Until you have been in love, do not judge a lover too harshly. If an evil one ordered me to forsake my husband, do you think I would happily concur, though another life was threatened?"

Father looked at the wall, saying nothing.

Mellondu shook his head in anger. "Mother, you could not just let someone else die." Mellondu looked from Mother to Father and back to Mother. "After all I had done for him, he would have sacrificed my sister? My sister!"

Mother's gaze softened. "It is not what I would wish, my son. But I could not forsake my husband, for I have sworn an oath to him, come what may."

The room fell silent, and slowly, one by one, they kissed Mellondu and retired. Mellondu stared at the ceiling for a long time, until slowly at first, tears began to fall. They fell long into the night.

[mark12_30]

Breakfast was bread and tea with cheese. Mellondu was silent, and his red eyes told the family what kind of night he had spent. No one spoke much during the meal.

After the meal, Mother drew Mellondu aside once more, and softly asked how he had slept. He shook his head.

"You are still angry with the elven king, " she said.

He nodded, and Mother sighed. There was a long silence before Mother spoke again.

"What if the tables had been turned?" Mother replied. "What if you had been ordered to forsake all your own loves so that an elf could live? Would you have done so?"

"Is that not what Erebemlin is asking me to do now?" Mellondu answered bitterly.

Mother hesitated.

"You are taking the elf-king's side against your own daughter, " Mellondu said.

"Not so, " said Father. "You fail to see who it was that wronged Mellonin. Let us say I order you to remain in the city. If I threaten to kill the elf unless you obey me, where is the evil? With you? With the elf? Or with the one who threatens to kill?"

"But I could save the elf if I obey you, " Mellondu countered.

"I could save the elf and you by honoring the will of each. No, son, the evil lies with the tyrant who forces the choice."

"Small comfort if the other dies, " spat Mellondu through gritted teeth.

"And that, " said Father, "is why we must fight evil. Do you not see? Many have died needlessly because evil held sway. Lay the blame where it belongs: with the servants of evil, not with those who strive against them."

"And if Mellonin had died because of Amroth's refusal?"

Father's face was like stone. "Then Tharonwe's evil would have earned my vengeance."

"After you buried your daughter, " said Mellondu.

"Enough, " said Father. "The evil one, this Tharonwe, is now captive, and no doubt his mischeif is at an end. Mellonin will be safe at home, while you are roaming we know not where to serve these elves. I must now hope that I will not have to bury you." Father came face to face with Mellondu and spoke quietly. "You began this. I blame you not for desiring adventure; many do. But now you have it; finish what you have begun. Leave your sister safe at home, go, and earn your freedom from the elves." Father's face softened. "And then I hope that you will also come safely home."

[alaklondewen]

The streets of Minas Tirith were busy with its people preparing for the new day. The air was calm and cool, while the bright sun showed promise of warming the cheeks and raising the spirit. Two silver haired men stood outside a small wooden house. One of the men swept the walkway that led from his door to the narrow street, while the other scratched his straggling beard and gave his sagacious opinion on the goings on of the city. “Mark my word, Mayhew, that old Willheim will have to pay a mighty dowry to marry off that girl now.”

Mayhew nodded sagely and, leaning on his broom, opened his mouth to reply, but no words came. For at that moment, three tall and graceful beings stepped from the bustling street and walked toward the men.

“Pardon, kind sirs,” the smallest of the golden haired elves stepped forward. “Can you tell us where we might find a guard of the city?”

Mayhew’s eyes widened as he gazed into the faces of the three elves. He awkwardly bowed and dropped his broom, resulting in a startlingly loud clank. As he fumbled to pick it up, he replied, “Why yes, Master Elf --Elves, sirs. You will find Maladan at the second gate. Just take this roa…”

“Nay, Mayhew, you forget,” the other man pulled himself up to his full stature and addressed the elves. “Maladan will not be at his station until after the dinner bell today. Erugil is on duty this morning.”

“Yes, I remember now,” Mayhew scratched his head and looked back to the elves. “Erugil has just been assigned to watch the gate, before that he…”

The tallest of the elves cleared his throat.

“Oh, yes,” Mayhew coughed nervously. “That small street right over there, across from Miriel.”

The other man stepped up and interrupted. “That would be her unloading the apples from Aeridil‘s, that is, her father‘s, cart. He brings his goods into the city every…”

Again, the tall elf cleared his throat.

Mayhew threw his companion a sharp glance then pasted a smile onto his face. “If you follow that street, sirs, you will come just south of the gate.”

“We thank you, sir,” the smallest elf nodded to the men and joined the tall one as they began to walk toward the street.

“Yes, thank you both,” the third elf raised one of his eyebrows and slyly grinned. “May the wind continue to pour from your mouths.” Bowing, the elf joined the other two.

“Thank…” Mayhew began but stopped short as he considered what the last elf said. “What did he mean by that?”

The other man scratched his beard and shrugged.

~*~*~
The sun was well over the lower wall when Erebemlin arrived at the second gate with Taitheneb and Tharonwe. A young man dressed in a uniform, bearing the symbols of the new king, stood beside the large gate. “What may I do for you, Master Elf?” the guard asked as Erebemlin stepped forward.

“We desire counsel with King Elessar. Will you take us to him?”

The young guard looked curiously around the tall elf at the other two immortals and then returned his gaze to Erebemlin. “Please, excuse me, I will return with an answer to your request in just a moment.” The guard disappeared through a door on the right and muffled voices could be heard.

An older man walked through the small door and greeted the elves. Erebemlin introduced his companions and himself. The guard instructed the elves to follow him. Erebemlin nodded and the trio followed the guard throughout the city until they arrived at the highest level where the white tower stood. Erebemlin eyed Tharonwe closely. The swamp elf had come along too easily, knowing he would be handed over to the king.

[Formendacil]

A realm as great as Gondor entails a correspondingly large amount of men and time to run it, efficiently and smoothly, to ensure communication between its far-flung peoples and to uphold the law amongst them, but ultimately all power and authority traces itself back to Minas Tirith, and to the King dwelling therein.

Elessar Telcontar, Heir of Elendil, and High King of Gondor and Arnor, was that apex of power. Though he had his steward, and his vassals, and his army, and all manner of servants, things had the tendency, when important, or unusual, or troublesome, to get sent straight to the throne.

And so it was that when Erugil, Captain of the garrison of the second gate, was met by three of the Eldar, wishing to see the King, he did not think first that perhaps some other might be better able to deal with the issue, but did as they bid, and went straight to the King.

Erebemlin, March-warden of Lórien, had beheld Elessar before, during the War of the Ring and earlier, and Taitheneb had been with him, but Tharonwë the Swamp-Elf had not.

Tharonwë had good reason to be impressed by the King. This was the foster-son of Elrond, the descendent of Lúthien Tinúviel, a Númenorean of full stature. And beside him sat his queen, Arwen Undómiel.

"Hail, my guests from the North," Elessar addressed the Eldar, rising from his seat to incline his head respectfully.

Hail indeed, a strange voice echoed in his mind. Beside him, Elessar saw Arwen's eyes dart to one of the Elves.

"The bond of friendship between my people and yours has grown in recent years, but visits from our Elven friends are few. What brings the Marchwardens of Lórien to Minas Anor?"

One is not a marchwarden, the mind of the queen gave him warning. His mind is closed, and I sense a darkness about him or about his past.

Elessar half-turned to give his queen a confidant, knowing smile. I know, she could read in his expression.

You are a knowledgeable man the Elf told him. Few differentiate between one Elf and another.

Few have been raised in Imladris, Elessar replied.

Then you will know that not all Elves are to be trusted.

From the glances that the two Marchwardens exchanged, it was clear to Elessar that he was conversing with the third Elf.

"Lord King," Erebemlin inclined his head slightly. "I am, as you say, a Marchwarden of Lórien. Erebemlin Silmaethor, I am called. This is my fellow Marchwarden, Taitheneb. This Elf," he gestured at Tharonwë and scowled slightly, "calls himself Maegeleb, and is the reason I am here."

This will be an interesting tale, I suspect, Arwen's amusement plain in Aragorn's thoughts. A twitch in his cheek and a twinkle in his eye suggested that he shared her sentiment.

"If there is a difficulty in which I may assist, then I encourage you to state your case," Elessar addressed the Elves.

"Our difficulty is simple," said Erebemlin. "This Maegeleb has been harassing and endangering the subjects of your realm. We wish to remand him to your custody."

And I wish to be set free, the Elf's voice echoed again, clearly coming from the Swamp-Elf Maegeleb. Do not trust all that these self-righteous Marchwardens say! Their vision is narrow. Maegeleb's thought bore the weight of... something. Desperation, maybe? Intensity? Truth? Beside him, Arwen eye's bored into Maegeleb.

Elessar leaned forward towards the Elves.

"Explain, if you would."

"Together with Taitheneb here, and a number of companions of your race, we were travelling through the swamps about the mouth of the Entwash," Erebemlin began to explain. "This Maegeleb dwelt there, and kept a number of fell servants. He attacked our company, taking our womenfolk prisoner. One of our company perished. He attempted to use the power of his mind to coerce and endanger us, and succeeding in kidnapping one of our number. He returned and surrendered himself to us, but we wish to be rid of him, and to see him punished for his misdeeds."

"Is this the truth?" Elessar spoke directly to Tharonwë, making eye contact. The Swamp-Elf stared back at him, attempting to look unafraid, yet humble; osanwë projecting a emotion of strong truth at the King.

"Silmaethor leaves out all the details, and gives a biased account," he told the King, "but it is correct insofar as it goes." Yet there is more to be said that I would say, were I permitted to speak alone!

My husband shall do as he desires, Arwen cut in coldly. Desist! Tharonwë's mind fell silent, respectful of the Queen's wishes.

Elessar glanced wryly at Arwen, questioning.

There is a darkness to him, her mind impressed upon him again, her mouth set with a hint of petulant concern. He may be more dangerous than he seems, she warned him. Elessar nodded slowly.

"I desire to know a good deal more," Elessar turned to Erebemlin again. "I do not doubt the truth of what you speak, but there is more to be told. Why were you travelling in the lands of Men? Who are these companions of whom you speak? Why were they with you? And I should like an fuller accounting of the events in swamp. What you have said has the ring of truth, but it seems but the barest account. If I am to deal with Maegeleb, I must know what bone of contention lay between you."

[alaklondewen]

Erebemlin studied the mortal king curiously. Could it be that this king of great renown and reputation was more concerned with the blacksmith than the great elven lord? Surely he was simply interested in what human had been chosen to house Amroth and ensuring that the quest would be continued. Surely.

The tall ellon began uncertainly, still attempting to discern Elessar’s intentions. “The young human lives in this city. I met with him in the home of his parents yesterday.”

Elessar nodded slowly. It seemed to Erebemlin that he appeared more interested after hearing Mellondu lived within his city’s walls. The king shifted his weight slightly in his seat and leaned on his elbow. “And during this meeting, did the boy agree to finish the quest?”

“Yes, he did, my lord.” Erebemlin paused and his eyes flashed as he began again. “The lord Amroth is still within him. I can feel his presence deep within, but I…” Stopping, the Lorien elf glanced at Tharonwë who had yet to be taken. Turning his eyes back, Arwen caught his gaze and he knew she felt his fear before he voiced it. “Lord Elessar, if I may, I would prefer to wait until the captive was lead away before I continue.”

Taitheneb caught Tharonwë’s eyes blaze and could feel his pleasure in sowing the doubt within the Silmaethor.

“I understand your concern,” Elessar spoke to Erebemlin but his eyes were on the swamp elf. “We will wait for the guards to arrive.” The king whispered something inaudible to his wife, and she nodded in reply. Facing the elves again, he stood and kindness shown in his eyes. “It is nearly time for the noon meal. It would be my pleasure if you would join us and we might discuss these matters in more detail.” Erebemlin and Taitheneb bowed in gratitude for the invitation.

At that moment, two guards entered the hall wearing the armour of the king. The first guard strode forward carrying binds. He reached toward the swamp elf, but Elessar stopped him. “I do not believe you will need those. Am I right, Maegeleb?”

The elf bowed his head slightly and replied, “I will go peacefully as I have nothing to hide.”

“So be it,” the king answered decisively.

The party watched as Tharonwë was lead from the hall with a guard on either side of him. Erebemlin cared not if the elf was bound. He knew the swamp elf’s dangerousness did not come from his physical prowess but the power of his mind. The Lorien elves could not help feeling relief when Tharonwë rounded the corner and was lost to sight.

“Now come,” Elessar held out his arms to show the elves the way to his dining hall. “Let us sit and talk.”

[mark12_30]

There were no shackles that bound him, so why could he not move? He could see nothing; feel nothing; hear nothing; touch nothing; smell--

His stomach churned. The smell-- a dusty smell of neglect, of mould, of lifeless rot.

In the darkness, he knew the silence that surrounded him; silence of stone rings, stone walls, stone circles, unmoving, unalive. All around him the dusty smell of age and decay wafted. Near, too near, was a sickly sweet smell-- death and more death. Tombs. The tombs of men; tombs of kings and soldiers and stewards; row upon row of rotting bodies lying in ring upon ring of stone.

He thought of the mounds of Rohan; simple mounds, in rows. Grass covered them; flowers grew upon them. Death within, but life without. No such green graced the stones that ringed him round. Heavy, heavy, weighing down his spirit even more than his body, the dull lifeless stone and the dust of age and decay stole even his breath. Soundlessly, he cried out. An answer touched the echo of his cry.

My lord, I am here.

Erebemlin!

Courage, my lord.

As quickly, the life-thoughts stilled. He sought them, reaching, grasping, groping. Stone closed ever closer round him. The dusty, mouldy smell of decay gave way to the sweet stench of rot, and he knew no more.

[littlemanpoet]

Sickly sweet smile. Maegeleb quickly removed the expression from his face. This Iorgil was as readable as the largest sign posted on the greatest gate.

"So you are my jailer," Maegeleb intoned evenly, conveying just the right degree of nobility and benevolent disdain so as to communicate to this young man - very young man apparently - his comparable worth in the presence of an elf.

The young man nodded dumbly.

"Surely you have seen an elf before." You are in the presence of greatness.

"Yes, sir. I have seen the Queen."

"Of course." This elf before you is too great for your curiosity.

"Um, I must return to my duty."

"That you must." This elf cannot be guilty of whatever crime he is charged with!

There. Let those thoughts moulder and merge with the mullings of the young man. For now. That Roy Edwards' hypnotism, merged with osanwë, was a most effective means of achieving one's ends.

[littlemanpoet]

Formendacil's post

The first thing Elessar noted about his young subject as Mellondu and his father entered with the two Elves, was that the young man seemed rather bitter. Arwen looked over at him, clearly concerned about the young man's state of mind. A tightness around the mouth suggested that she did not think him at all at ease. Whether she felt Amroth, Elessar could not tell. The two men bowed before the King.

"My lord," Mellondu's father said, with a sweep of his arm in his son's direction. "I have brought you my son, Fingon."

"Also called Mellondu," said Elessar, with a brisk nod. "I am pleased to have you and your son here. What is occuring now will make a famous man out of your son, if the minstrels hear his tale in days to come. Neither the Queen Arwen nor myself would have these matters pass us by unnoted."

Arwen smiled at Mellondu and his father. "Even Kings and Queens of the Edain desire to meet heroes and figures out of great tales."

"But as I am not just a spectator of your tale, but also your King," Elessar addressed Mellondu's father, "I must concern myself: is it your will that your son should accompany these Elves, and share his body with Amroth, in the fulfillment of his quest?"

"It is," said Mellondu's father, sombrely, "my son's honour requires it, and both he and I are men of dignity, though our status may be humble. Mellondu goes with my grace and of his own decision."

"Then I am satisfied," said Elessar. "And what of you, Mellondu?"

"I understand you desired to see Amroth, my lord," the young man's voice was tense, and maybe somewhat sullen.

"No Mellondu," Elessar rose, shaking his head. He strode down to stand in front of the young man. "No, I wished to see my subject who has given so much in friendship to a legendary Elvenking."

"There is friendship no more," Mellondu said bitterly. Behind him, Elessar could hear a russle as Arwen rose to join him.

"We have heard how Amroth placed your sister in danger," she said to him. "But can you not forgive him of the events that day? Your sister survived unharmed."

"I see only that Mellonin was endangered," said Mellondu, stubbornly. "And that Amroth betrayed my trust."

"We are not a court to render judgement on Amroth's actions," said Elessar. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Erebemlin stir slightly. The Elf had not expected him to side, perhaps, with Mellondu against Amroth. "But there are times when we must forgive those who have wronged us. Even if they have hurt us deeply."

"Why does any of this matter?" asked Mellondu. "Why do you care?"

"I am the King of Gondor," said Elessar. "This is not just a charge to rule the people, but to care for them. Tensions between you and Amroth can rip you apart, Mellondu. He is still in your mind, even if you wish it not. You continue to grant him lodging, but it would be better if you did it ungrudgingly. The mortal body was not meant to sustain the conflict of two minds."

"Nor is an immortal body," said Arwen, cryptically. "Amroth is in great turmoil. From you, Mellondu, for suppressing him. And from his own anguish, which is confused and I cannot read it. If Amroth and you are to both see a happy finish to this tale, it falls to you to lead the way. Amroth, even in control of himself, has not the ability to see beyond Nimrodel. Someone who can see further is needed."

"I cannot forgive him, my lady," said Mellondu. "Someone who cares so much should understand that I love my sister."

Elessar and Arwen glanced for a second at each other.

"If we cannot sway your mind, Mellondu, then I believe we are finished," Elessar addressed the boy. "I beseech you to consider the words of your Queen, and make peace with Amroth- even if Amroth doesn't deserve it. Even Manwë gave Morgoth mercy."

"Lord," said Erebemlin, "there is a matter of horses..."

~:~

The visitors departed with a grant of two additional mounts from the king. Mellondu's father was holding his arm, and whispering something to him. Erebemlin and Taitheneb wore faces of mixed confusion. That Elessar was more interested in Mellondu than Amroth had not crossed their minds, it seemed. As the guests departed from earshot, Elessar turned to Arwen.

"Is there any hope that Amroth can find Nimrodel?" he asked. "Can he be restored to peace?"

"In Mandos, mayhaps," said Arwen, "but it will not be a happy road for Mellondu, I deem. And it may not happen soon."

"The grace of the Valar go with them," Elessar looked down the now-empty hall. "And grant that they return at peace."
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Last edited by Formendacil : 08-28-2006 at 10:47 PM.

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littlemanpoet's post

The Elves, and the family of Mellondu and Mellonin had gone up to the palace of King Elessar and Queen Arwen, and returned. Mellondu said little. Mellonin seemed as if she had many thoughts to keep her mind busy, but also seemed contented to remain in Minas Anor while the men continued the quest. This helped to settle the hearts and minds of Bellyn and Leafa. Nethwador did not seem very happy at all that Bellyn would stay behind, but was nonetheless willing to go with Amroth/Mellondu and the two Elves, whose aid he still required to communicate with the other humans.

So the men went about gathering supplies. Ravion was given charge of the details, and sent Ædegard, Nethwador, and Raefindan out to market for the necessary supplies. The King had taken an interest in their quest, and had offered gold toward their preparations, which quickened the preparations remarkably.

Meanwhile, the women made plans for lodging; Mellonin was given her job at the tavern again, at the behest of Estelyn; Leafa was also taken on by Lady Estelyn, and would be staying at the Inn. Bellyn chose to stay with her family.

By day's end the men were ready. All that remained was to bid farewell.

Bellyn & Nethwador

“I do not want to stay here,” Bellyn murmured from where she sat, in the main room of the Seventh Star. Nethwador stood next to her, and when she rose from her seat and shouldered the small pack which she had carried all the way from Rohan many days earlier, the boy looked at her with furrowed brows.

“Nethwador mellon Bella,” said he, fervently. He spoke this one phrase, which he had often said on the road, with a wonderful certainty.

Bellyn nodded. “I know. But you have to go. Because Nethwador is also the friend of Amroth…and Amroth needs you now.” Bellyn went to the door, Nethwador close behind. She opened the door and felt the harsh, crisp breeze hit her cheeks.

“I will see you again, I promise,” Bellyn said, turning to Nethwador. She said this, more of a reassurance to her own worried mind than for Nethwador. Bellyn took Nethwador in an embrace, a quick embrace; for she felt her eyes suddenly begin to water. Then she turned away, off down the road she needed to take to get to the home of her nephew and her brother’s wife.

“Nethwador mellon Bella!” She heard, from behind. Bellyn paused. She turned around and ran back to the door of the Seventh Star, where Nethwador stood, and she flung her arms around him once more. It was a tight embrace, and Bellyn did not know how long it lasted before she withdrew, smiled, and turned away once more down the street.

The walk felt longer than when she had visited her sister-in-law earlier. When she reached the door once again, she felt the wind running through her hair as she knocked. Rosa opened the door, and Bellyn entered, saying goodbye to nights under the stars and to the promise of a new adventure every morning.

Nethwador watched Bella go.

Taitheneb watched Nethwador. There had been many late-night discussions between the boy and the elf over the past two days. He felt the boy's heartache well enough without touching his mind. Perhaps he felt it more than he wanted to. But no; the boy needed a friend, now more than ever. He waited. Bella disappeared from sight. Nethwador seemed poised to run after her.

Taitheneb sighed; then he smiled.

The boy wavered, and suddenly ran out the door, rounding the bend in the road 'til he could see her once more. But he did not call her name; he only watched her walking, til she slipped out of sight once more. Again he ran after her; again he watched, til she disappeared from his sight. Several folk gave him odd looks, and a few soldiers frowned. Again he pursued her.

By the time Rosa opened the door for Bella, Nethwador was wearier than he could ever remember being. He saw her disappear within Rosa's house, and stood for a while. Taitheneb watched over him, and Nethwador clung to the elf's gaze. His heart had never been so heavy. Slowly he walked back. When he came to the door of the Inn, Taitheneb was waiting for him.

Taitheneb thought that now, perhaps, Nethwador understood Amroth a little bit better. Nethwador looked up, startled; there was more in that thought than Taitheneb knew at first.

You?

Yes, little brother. You understand Lord Amroth. And perhaps now you understand me as well.

They went into the Inn, and together they sat silently by the fire, long into the night, til all the other folk had gone to bed. Finally Nethwador, weary from heartache, fell asleep on the hearth. Only then, in the red ember glow did Taitheneb allow three tears to fall. One, he reasoned, for Nethwador. One for Amroth. One last tear fell because his long years apart from his own wife had not yet ended.

Then he stirred, stood, and added some wood to the fire, watching over Nethwador til dawn.

Ædegard & Leafa

Ædegard asked Leafa to walk in the garden beside the Inn. From there one could look out over the heights of the Third Circle to the vista of plains, river, forest, and mountains, the sickle moon rising above the Ephel Duath in a clear night sky.

"Maybe we will not be long, Leafa," Ædegard said presently. "Maybe you and I will soon be on our way to find your father."

Leafa turned her eyes to Ædegard, a low sigh escaping her. "I hope we shall find him," she said. "Rather, I hope we can. I could not say where he might be. He might even be here in Gondor while we speak."

There was a small pause, and during that silence Leafa was deep in thought. It was a sorrowful contemplation, for she was very much troubled, and at length she sighed again.

"Leafa?" said Ædegard, a loving concern in his voice which dispelled some of the chill in her heart. "What worries you?"

"It is my father who concerns me," she replied.

"You fear he will not give his consent?"

"Oh, no! I fear no such thing, and am almost sorry for it." She smiled when she observed the expression on his face. "Of course I would wish for him to accept you. And yet, at the same time I wish there were some chance that he would not."

Ædegard remained silent, but his eyes questioned.

"How may I explain it?" Leafa said. "His consent will be given without thought. He will not reflect on whether or not you are a strong and upright man, and whether or not you will be a good husband to me. Were you a low scoundrel his consent would come with no less reluctance. My father loves me, and at the same time, he does not care."

She turned and bent over some of the garden bushes to hide the tears that she could not keep from shining in her eyes. For a few moments she played with the leaves, breaking them off and letting them fall to the ground, while Ædegard looked on without a word.

"When Liornung offered me the chance of going with him and the rest of your group," she went on after a time, "I saw not only that chance, but also the chance to settle down to a quiet life when your quest was done. My father loves the life of the wayfarers, but I do not. Nor does my mother, though she follows him, for her love for him is greater than her wish for a peaceful life. He loves the both of us dearly, but not enough. The call to travel means more to him than the silent pleading of my mother's eyes."

She straightened up, and let a few more leaves fall to the ground. "But I hope that our union will be the means of his return. Perhaps he will come live near us, and quit his wanderings. I hope with all my heart that it may be so."
"As do I, Leafa," said Ædegard, with all gentleness in his tone, for despite all efforts, her tears had not gone unnoticed.

She turned back to him, and taking his hand, attempted a smile. "Yet why am I so gloomy at this time, when you are soon to leave? Your memories of me on the road should not be of a tear-filled and miserable girl."

She looked up at him, and he down at her, and they remained standing that way for some time. Time and again she tried to speak, to express her love, and her longings for his return, but she found it impossible. And so at last, she shook her head and laughed.

"I cannot speak," she said. "Words cannot suffice to tell all that is in my heart. I fear that I can make no passionate speeches fit for this time. I try to speak, but nothing will come." The merry flickering faded suddenly from her eyes, and was replaced with a tender and sorrowful earnestness. But Ædegard smiled gently.

"I need no great speeches, Leafa, my heart. Your eyes say all I need."

She smiled then. "Farewell, dear Ædegard. Return to me soon. I will wait for you."

And she bent and kissed his hand. He was startled by her gesture. He took her in his arms and drew her to him so that she rested her head on his shoulder, and they watched the moon.

"Farewell, my dear Leafa. Watch the moon, and I will be watching it too at night, and so we will know that our eyes are turned to the same light."

"I will."

It was long moments before they parted. Little did they guess how long they would be separated.

Raefindan

Raefindan strolled toward the home of Mellondu and Mellonin with the purpose of bidding farewell to his new friend and promising to keep a human eye out for her brother. It was a pleasant, well kept dwelling, as stone buildings in Minas Anor went (for he remembered that the old name had come back into usage by rule of the King).

He knocked on the door and waited.

Mother opened the door, and smiled. "Good Raefindan, welcome. Please, sit down." She faded into the back room, and soon emerged with Mellonin and Father.

"Raefindan. It was good of you to come, " said Mellonin.

Raefindan blinked at her newfound formality. "Mellonin?" He hesitated.

She smiled. "Forgive me. But I will miss you. I assume you have come to bid farewell. All is set for your departure, then, " she said, nodding, trying to sound as if she was not jealous, not envious, nor the least bit resentful to be staying behind. "Between Ravion and the elves, you will be very well guided. You will take up your archery lessons again?"

Raefindan smiled. "Perhaps I will not be the only one. Ravion was admiring Mellondu's fine bow. A ranger's bow, he said, of good workmanship. "

Father bowed slightly.

Mellonin hesitated. "Perhaps I will learn to shoot, while you are away. And then perhaps when you return..." Suddenly she laughed, and drew a hand over her eyes. "What am I saying. I will have plenty to keep me busy; the Inn is thriving, and I am busy all day long. Safe travels, Raefindan. May the Valar guide your path. Return home safely. All of you. I look forward to your return." She stood as if to leave, as the triple passions of mirth, grief, and desolation vied to rule her.

Raefindan smiled. Mellonin's hands were folded and fidgeting before her, and she did not know where to look. "I will watch your brother. Let hope be your guide, Mellonin. It will be mine. Hope does not fail -" he paused and grinned "-by gum and by Jorje."

"Gum?"

"Maybe I'll find a cat to name Gum. I do wish Jorje had stayed with us."

"He is happy where he is, I think," Mellonin said.

"Quite right. Well, I'll be off now. Keep hoping!" He waved as he went out the door.

"I will, by Jorje!" she called.