Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[mark12_30]

Mellonin, Raefindan, Ravion and Aeron had finished packing. Ravion was deep in thought about the immanent departure. Mellonin and Raefindan went to find Morien.

"Well, all equipped and ready?" Morien said.

"Yes, sir, " replied Mellonin. "And please, sir, I wanted to thank you again for the advance. That was very generous of you. Thank you."

He studied her. She could be perceptive, or flighty, she could be thoughtful or absent-minded. "I assume you have spoken with your parents?" he said.

She shook her head. "We will pass by their house on the way out. I planned to stop in then."

"Mellonin, how can you be so foolish? Contact them now."

"Why?"

"How can they do anything to help you if you don't give them any notice?"

Her face fell. "They have so little. I do not want to burden them."

He snorted. "Foolish girl. If your corpse rots in the wilderness, They will have even less. Where do your parents live?"

"In the lowest circle."

"Tell Ravion where it is, and have them all meet you there."

Raefindan waved her out. She snatched up her cloak and pack, the shoulder-bag, and the awkward bundle of clothes and equipment that she was going to change into; she would have to change in her parent's room. Hurriedly giving Ravion the directions to the room her parents lived in, she hurried to the door.

She turned with a sinking heart and looked back. In such a short time, the Inn had become a comfortable place. Morien in the end had shown her kindness behind his gruff exterior. And there were so many others to whom she wished she had time to say farewell. Her eyes fell on Estelyn, who was now talking to the Inn owner, and she fervently wished her well.

Raefindan waved her out again, and she turned and left the Inn.

[littlemanpoet]

Liornung's song made Ædegard's head ache, but he kept that to himself. Bellyn had seemed so stung by his words, which he admitted to himself, came out far sharper than he had intended. Maybe it was because he liked her and it was hard to let himself show it.

Yes, the song had been long. Overlong, but it was over soon enough, and they had the peace of the quiet grassy fields, with little sound beyond the thump of hooves on turf.

"We should avoid the marshes," Ædegard offered. "We do not want to lose good horses in a bog."

He looked to the others to see if there was agreement.

[mark12_30]

They were startled when the young blacksmith spoke next. "We will certainly not cross the marshes; she would not linger there. We will trace the edge of Fangorn Forest."

Ædegard, Liornung, and Bellyn exchanged glances and raised eyebrows.

"As to how quickly we will travel, that depends on how deeply we challenge these generous horses. Each one is courageous; none will refuse us what we ask."

"And what kind of challenge did you have in mind?" asked Ædegard.

The young blacksmith's eyes met Ædegard's, and Amroth wondered if Ædegard would understand. "They will find rest when I do."

"I will not mistreat these horses, " said Ædegard indignantly, and Liornung nodded in support. Bellyn's eyes grew wide.

Amroth fell silent. Just like his somehow weakened, deadened, unresponsive body, these horses would need physical rest. And these mortals would need rest. He knew it. But that did not make it easier to bear. Every delay gnawed at him, every moment passed in stilness. His whole being cried Onward!

He reached down, and stroked Echo's neck. "Nor do I, " he said. Then he opened his mind to the horses. "Friends, I have need of great haste. But do not let me forget the rest you need."

He released their minds, and turned his heart northward with a silent cry.

The only rest I will find is in your arms, beloved. Where, where are you? Come find me. Speak to me. O Nimrodel, Nimrodel, sing to me again.

Echo tossed his head and lengthened his stride.

~*~*~
Alaklondewen's post
~*~*~

The golden forest was pleasantly quiet as Erebemlin moved soundlessly through the trees. He was following a set of deer tracks that were heading toward the river. If he found the animal delayed by the water’s edge, there would be enough fresh meat for the next few weeks. With winter on the way, the ellon knew the importance of having meat before he and the others found themselves without for the remainder of the season.

As he neared the river, its quiet murmur met his ears. He stopped momentarily, leaning against a mighty mellorn and loosely fitted an arrow to his bow. Steadying his hand, he inhaled deeply and swiftly stepped over bringing the weapon to his eye and pulling the arrow back in one sweeping moment. The buck stood only a few yards from his position, and he readied himself to fire.

The arrow, however, never flew. Just as Erebemlin began to loosen his grip, a cry filled the forest. Speak to me. O Nimrodel, Nimrodel, sing to me again. Then, as quickly as it came, the call was gone. The hunter lowered his weapon and opened his heart searching for its source, but the thought had departed.

Nimrodel. Erebemlin was perplexed by this mysterious cry. The thoughts were so desperate, but who would be searching for the maiden who had long been lost to the world. He could think of only one, but his King had departed long ago for the lands West of the sea.

[Orual]

Ravion went over their inventory, quickly sorting through the things that Mellonin and Raefindan collected. Everything seemed to be in order. Enough food, enough water, blankets, supplies...everything was good to go.

Everything spread out in front of him, he sat back on his heels, staring at the equipment. In his mind he flashed back to packing for the last battle of the War.

"Ravion! Is everything ready?"

Ravion looked up at the speaker, his friend, his brother Ranger, Dalros. In this half-dream he was in the moment, but still knew that Dalros would die in the battle that they were preparing for.

"Everything's ready," Ravion said, closing the bag tightly and throwing it to Dalros, who caught it deftly and slung it over his shoulder.

"What about you?" Dalros asked, crouching by Ravion. His messy blond hair was caked with dirt, and his face was smudged as well, but his bright blue eyes were clearly visible. Right now, they were fixed intensely on Ravion.

"Me?" Ravion stalled. He didn't want to talk about this right now.

"You know what I mean," Dalros pressed. "If you're still...mourning..."

"My father died for this war," Ravion snapped, throwing his own pack over his shoulder and starting off. "If he gave his life, I can't do any less than give my effort."

"Don't make this battle about your father! He wouldn't want you to risk your life because you're grieving!" Dalros shouted, but Ravion was not listening. He was going to do this, just like his father did. It was what he was in this world to do.

"Ravion, is everything ready?"

Ravion startled and nearly fell over, then calmed down when he saw Raefindan. "Everything's ready," the Ranger said, shoving it all into bags and handing one to Raefindan. "Mellonin will probably want to put some distance behind us before nightfall."

He paused and looked around. Three companions. Raefindan, Aeron...

"Where is Mellonin?" he asked Raefindan.

[littlemanpoet]

"Where is Mellonin?" Ravion asked.

"She has gone to say goodbye to her mother and father. She'll be back soon."

Ravion gave him a blank look, which cleared. "She will be back soon," he translated. "You have an odd way of speaking."

Raefindan grinned. "I would say the same of you, except that I'm apparently the stranger."

Ravion shook his head. "A pair only? What pair is the stranger? Are we not all strangers to each other? I do not understand you."

Raefindan looked down. "I'm sorry. I meant to say that it seems that I am the stranger here, so it is my speech that is odd to you.

"What about my sister?" Aeron asked.

Ravion scowled and turned to Aeron. "When Mellonin returns, you will lead us to your sister. Then we go."

"My thanks, lord Ravion." Aeron made a flagrant bow. Raefindan snickered. Ravion frowned.

[mark12_30]

Mellonin indeed appeared as they spoke.

"Great Scott, that's a change, " Raefindan said. Three blank stares were turned his way, and then Mellonin laughed.

"Well, by Jorje, at least you knew me, " she replied.

Raefindan threw back his head and laughed, while Ravion and Aeron exchanged skeptical glances. "I'm not sure I would have, if we hadn't been talking about you. Are you going to cut your hair as well?"

She grimaced. "Should I? I hate to, but if you think I should...?" She glanced at Ravion.

Ravion surveyed her thoroughly. Her brother's leggings, shirt, and tunic fitted her loosely, which was well, since her figure was hidden.

He shook his head. "Not all of it. But if you were a traveller, it should be more tattered. Here." He drew his knife, and Aeron and Raefindan watched closely.

"Loosen it, " he said. She pulled off the tie, and shook out the braids. He hesitated. "You're quite sure you want to travel as a man."

"Do you not think I should?"

"Yes, I certainly do. You will be safer that way. But... if you wear most of your hair in a single braid underneath your cloak and tunic, I need only ruin part of it."

She nodded, very seriously. He drew near with the knife, and soon ragged wisps fell about her face and ears. More, and thicker wisps went down her back to her collar. "I think that's enough. Hold the knife." With surprising deftness he braided the rest of her hair in a single braid, now somewhat thinner than it would have been, and showed her the end of the braid which she tied off and tucked under her tunic. He stood back to survey his work, and nodded. "Now you need a manly name."

She smiled. "Father suggested I take Mellondu's given name: Fingon."

He nodded. "And you need to smile less... sweetly. We will work on that. Are we ready?"

"Father insisted we all stop by on the way out," Mellonin warned him.

Ravion sighed. "Very well. To the stable for Gond, and then a brief visit to your parents."

"We need not remain long. But they insisted we all stop by, " Mellonin replied.

They filed out towards the stable.

[mark12_30]

Mellonin could hardly contain her excitement as they walked down the street past all the houses and inns and shops. Finally, she was taking action; finally she was pursuing her dear brother. Her heart had not been this light since she saw him last.

"Here we are, " Mellonin said, and smiled. "Wait here!" She slipped inside the door, up the stairs, down the corridor, and knocked on the door.

Her father opened it, and her mother was just behind him. "Hello, Mellonin. Where are your companions?"

"With Ravion's horse. We must not tarry, Mother."

"Of course, my dear. Take us to them. But first, take this." And she handed Mellonin a small but heavy suede pouch.

Mellonin frowned, opened the drawstring, and gasped. "Whence came this, Mother?"

"Do not let that concern you, dear. Take it and go."

"But-- Father, whence came this? What have you done?"

Her father placed a hand on each of her shoulders, and said, "We would have given the shield to Mellondu when he came of age. Were he not here to receive it, what good would it do him or us?"

Tears started in Mellonin's eyes, but she nodded. "I see."

"Our hearts go with you, child," said Mother, giving her a kiss.

"Take us to your companions," said Father.

They followed her down the stairs, and Father clasped hands with Ravion, Raefindan, and Aeron in turn. Mother did likewise; they each gave Aeron a keen glance, but said nothing. They turned to Ravion, and exchanged solemn words of blessing and farewell, and stepped back and raised one hand each. "May the Valar guide you, " said Father. "And may you find our son, and return with him safely. Go, and may you find safe paths."

Ravion bowed. Raefindan nodded. Aeron looked just a little solemn, for a moment. Then Ravion led them away.