Friends Of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams, Part 2 RPG

[mark12_30]

Nimrodel.

The weary king took the withered crone into his arms, and with her weight borne up by the water, cradled her like a newborn child.

Nimrodel, Nimrodel, hear me. Come to me. Where are you? Nimrodel, my love, heed me. Heed me.

Erebemlin waited, breathless. Nimrodel did not respond. The king called her again, again, again. She did not answer.

Nethwador stood nearby on the bank, leaning out over the water, willing her to hear the king. "Llisten to him, lady, " he whispered. "Listen to him. Sing for him again."

Erebemlin watched, and waited. He heard a dry wind blowing, and tasted ash on his tongue. The king frowned, and shook his head.

Feel the water, Nimrodel my love. You languish not in the paths of the dead. You are here, in my arms, in a green wood, in a sweet water that seeks for the sea. Taste the sweetness, my love. Taste the sweet water.

Erebemlin cupped his hand, and brought water to Nimrodel's lips so that she could drink. She stared listless.

Drink, my lady. Drink for your king, he pleaded.

Amroth kissed her brow, and closed his eyes. Nimrodel, Nimrodel. Turn. Turn away from the ash, and hear us. Hear my voice. Hear Erebemlin, your servant. Hear us.

"Come back, lady Nimrodel, " pleaded Nethwador from the bank. "Come back to us."