Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[Orual]

Ravion gripped his sword until his knuckles cracked when he heard the elf speak. Ruffians and tramps...and Raefindan spread across the bed. He looked like he had woken from his fever, but was now sleeping again, and his dreams seemed nightmarish. He extended his sword-arm towards the elf. "We have come for our friend," he said, his voice quiet but fierce.

The elf laughed mirthlessly. "Ah, his friends. You tied him to a horse and left him for dead, yet now you want him back?"

Ravion dropped his sword to the ground. "Ravion," Aeron said, quietly, warningly, anxiously. "Be careful!"

"It would benefit you to listen to your younger, wiser friend," the elf said. He glanced at Aeron briefly, then at Ravion's sword on the ground, and then back to Ravion. "Disarming yourself before a potential enemy is unwise, would you not say, Ranger?"

"I would say that I do not need my sword," Ravion said, and lunged at the elf, ignoring Aeron's alarmed cry of his name.

He tackled the elf to the ground, landing several blows before the elf regained his equilibrium. The elf, at first, merely held Ravion off, blocking his swings and evading his blows. Then Ravion managed to land one more, a good blow right to the elf's stomach. The elf grunted, and then launched into an offensive.

As Ravion fought, his thoughts raced. Who was this elf? What was he doing with Raefindan? Was he truly their enemy? He seemed hostile enough. Was that a good enough reason to attack him? He felt a blow connect soundly with his left cheekbone, and reeled. He staggered to his feet, and stumbled back into Aeron. The boy caught him and helped him regain his balance.

"Easy," Aeron said softly, his own eyes burning into the elf, who was righting himself. "The last thing we need is a fight."

"We just had one," Ravion grunted.

"Another one, I mean."

Ravion shook himself, and, picking up his sword, stood before the elf. "I was..." He stopped again. What was he supposed to say? He was not going to apologize. If the elf had been giving Raefindan aid, he should have been less hostile. "If you have helped our friend, you have my thanks. But you have not shown us yet that you should have our trust. What reason can you give me not to resume our fight, but now with my sword?"

[Nurumaiel]

Liornung noticed that Amroth was not at ease. He never had been at ease from the beginning of the journey but there was something more now. Bellyn rode not too far from him, and Nethwador at a close distance to her, watching the others warily, with an occasional fond glance at Amroth. Ædegard rode by the Elves, when the latters' horses were slowed enough for the others to catch up, and Argeleafa rode close to him yet not too close. From time to time she would cast a shy, awe-filled look towards the Elf. Liornung saw that she wanted to ride closer to Ædegard but was hesitant about going too near the Elves. Poor little girl. She just wanted someone to protect her and Ædegard had done so much in protecting them all thus far. And then Ædegard cast a look behind him, saw her hesitant expression, and slowed his mount so he was riding beside her. She blushed shyly but her expression of hesitance changed to an expression of pleasure.

"And there's something in the wind," Liornung murmured under his breath. "With Ædegard it is obvious. Argeleafa I am not so sure... She keeps so very much to herself and hides her feelings... but I have a suspicion..."

"Did you say something, Liornung?"

He turned and smiled at Bellyn. "Yes indeed, I did, though I was merely speaking to myself," said he. "The matter I was pondering is one that might have come to your attention while watching Ædegard and Argeleafa." He said no more but looked again to Amroth. The latter had often been calmed by songs, and he faintly recalled that it was his turn in the game of rhymes to sing. And so he began.

"I first saw you, sweet maid,
sitting on a lonely stone wall,
and you wept with sorrow and grief,
and heard the mourning bird's call.
I was stricken by your fair beauty;
hair of gold and skin so white,
cheeks of rosy hue and clearly
did I see your eyes so bright.

I watched as you lamented
over all your home long gone
and wept at your deep sorrow
and your mournful, haunting song.
I gently stepped up to you
and questioned you as to your sorrow
and you told me your home
you would leave behind on the morrow.

Your father will take you with him
when he leaves his home
and away with the wayfarers
he will ride off to roam.
And you would have no place
if you dared to remain
and o'er your head would be no roof
not in snow nor in rain.

And I, so stricken by your beauty
could not watch your grief
I took your hand and led you away
for in love I've always had belief.
And I asked you to wed me
and stay with me forever
to honor and to please thee
would ever be my endeavour.

And your eyes when you heard
were like stars in the night
but you turned away from me.
You did not think it would be right
for you had known me but a minute
and could not wed me for that time
but bid me court you for a month
and in that time you would be mine.

Maiden fair, I await the day
when you at last shall be mine.
All my treasures that I own,
my very heart shall be thine.
Fair maiden, how I love thee so!
Until you're mine I know no rest
so them come to me, maiden fair,
for I'm the one who loves you best."

[mark12_30]

Nethwador listened to Liornung's song, and watched Lady Bella's face; she smiled, sometimes, and sighed sometimes. She did not stray far from Liornung's side. In the front of the group, Echo's cream-colored mane and tail and the flowing golden hair of Erebemlin contrasted with the dark hair of Amroth... Dark hair like mine. It was a happy day when I found Amroth.

And Bella's hair was dark too. Riding a little behind her, he watched how her hair shimmered in the wind, and wished he could comb it for her.

Liornung finished his song, and Bella smiled at him.

I will learn to sing. Perhaps then she will smile at me.


'******************


They halted at noon and unbridled the horses while they ate. Erebemlin spoke to Echo, and halted him; Amroth was glad. He looked down at the nearby river as one awaking from a dream, and at the relief of seeing green grass he dismounted, reached down and caressed it.

"You are weary, my lord Amroth." Erebemlin's face was grave. In answer, Amroth lay down and gazed into the heavens.

"You must eat. We will bring you fruit, lembas, and river water. Perhaps you should taste miruvor as well."

Amroth raised his hand. "I need not eat. I have eaten ash all morning."

Erebemlin shook his head. "Breathe the river-air, my lord, for dine you must or you will ail again. Rest now."

[Nurumaiel]

Liornung cast his eyes over their company as they sat for their lunch, and he smiled in deep fondness. Rarely had he met such interesting personalities, such kind and open personalities. At least kind. Argeleafa was not open to them. Not yet. And they could all sing, too. A trace of smugness crept into his smile then. All of the company had sung at least once... except Nethwador. In truth he had never heard Nethwador even speak. Liornung had made friends more or less with all the members of the company except Nethwador. He had half-ignored the boy. It was difficult to make friends with him, though. He was fond of Bellyn and Amroth, but of the others he was suspicious.

But it was no matter. Liornung had been in the company of the suspicious before.

He drew forth his fiddle from his pack and smiled at Bellyn, who was sitting close to him. She looked up into his face and returned the smile, the expression on her face half-questioning as she wondered if he would sing again. Liornung gestured to Argeleafa; shyly she came to him. Liornung smiled smugly again. This was the way he was meant to be... seated upon the grass with people gathered about him, looking earnestly up into his face and hoping for some show of his music. He set his fiddle on his knee and held it as one might hold a lute. "Well, lassies, have you ever heard a fiddle played in such a manner as this?" His fingers sought out the strings and placed themselves upon them. The bow lay untouched on the ground beside him. He ran the nails of his right hand down over the four strings of the fiddle. "See, I can play like a lute, only it brings a more careless, airy, childish sound. Listen." He began strumming an amusing little tune and soon began to sing.

"Oh there's an old man upon the road
panting under his weary load!
Mamma, mamma, mamma dear,
let the old man come in here.
La-dee-dally, mamma dear,
let the old man come in here."

"Oh there's a poor dog in the evening late.
By his thinness I fancy he hasn't ate.
Mamma, mamma, mamma dear,
let the poor dog come in here.
La-dee-dally, mamma dear,
let the poor dog come in here."

He stopped and was delighted with the laughter of the two girls. "It's an old song I used to sing when I was a child," he said, "and some children of Rohan sing it even now. It's very long and about all the unfortunate people the boy in the song sees. It begins with the old man in the morning and ends with the dog in the evening. Out of the goodness of her heart the mother lets them come in and at the end the house is full. I'll sing you the whole song someday, but I cannot now. It is very long and it has been many years since I last sang it. I would have to bring it back to my memory."

Ædegard, not too far away, was chuckling over the song and Liornung heard. He looked over the rest of the company to see if any others had enjoyed his song, and his eyes fell on Nethwador, who had been listening intently and gazing at Bellyn. He suddenly felt an urge to befriend this lad. He had a nephew who he fancied would someday be a bard, and he enjoyed teaching him in his spare time. Perhaps Nethwador would enjoy learning the art of the fiddle. Gesturing, he called softly, "Mellon... Nethwador! Come here and sit with us and I will teach you to play the fiddle."

[mark12_30]

Nethwador jumped up and his dark brown eyes flew open wide. The whites of his eyes shone against his tanned skin, and he drew away at first. Then he paused.

Taitheneb spoke. "He offers to teach you music."

Eagerness grew, wrestling with a deep-rooted wariness. His eyes darted from Liornung to Taitheneb, and back, and then to lady Bella. She sat still, watching.

Liornung beckoned with his hand. "He's just as wild has he was before we got to Lorien."

"No," whispered Bella. "Not quite."

Taitheneb spoke again. "Liornung will teach you music, if you will learn it from him."

Nethwador took one cautious step towards the three sitting on the grass, and another, eyes flicking often between Taitheneb and Liornung. His every muscle was taut.

"Pig? Feh. He's more like a wolf, " muttered Ædegard.

Nethwador inched steadily closer, and Liornung hummed a few more verses to pass the time. Finally Nethwador stood five feet away, and halted, eyes darting between Liornung and Bella.

They were all startled to hear Amroth's voice ring out. "If they hurt you, I will beat them myself. Sit down, and hold the viol as gently as you would hold a bird."

Nethwador looked toward Amroth. The tautness left his body and the fear left his eyes. Straightening, he nodded, and stepped forward, and sat down crosslegged between Liornung and Bella. He looked from his face to hers, and then at the ground.

[Imladris]

A splash awoke Gwyllion from her deep sleep. A fish maybe? A great fish with bugging eyes, white flesh, and cruel, jagged teeth? She shuddered. Or could it be something worse? And if it was something worse, was it better to roll over and go to sleep, thus presenting an easy target if it happened to be hungry, or to go and face it straight on, with an imaginary sword in hand?

She struggled to her feet and stumbled forward as her legs loosened. Soft, white mists curled from the swamp, and it reeked with a foul smell. Clouds of blood sucking winged insects scuttled away and the chirping of the frogs wavered, and then faded.

She shivered, hoping that her presence had cowed them to silence. But...birds did not silence themselves within forests when she appeared.

Splash

She tried to laugh. 'Twas nothing. Hopefully. Probably not. No, it could not be nothing. Did fish live in swamps anyway? She could not remember.

Something black slithered through the scraggling weeds. A snake...an innocent harmless snake. Snakes were nasty creatures. They crushed their prey and stuck their forked tongues out at you. She moved her foot away.

The black thing lunged at her, curling itself about her ankle, dragging her foot into the murky water. Gwyllion screamed as she glimpsed the massive, shimmering black head of a monstrous brute.

Her skin burned and she felt her muscles relax, whispering, like a lover, of sleep and relaxation. It was useless to struggle....struggling could not help her...

[Nurumaiel]

Liornung regarded Amroth gravely and gave the slightest nod of his head. "Thank you, Lord Amroth," he said, and turned to Nethwador. Gently and slowly he took Nethwador's hands and placed the fiddle in them, as though he were using the utmost care to give a child some candy, a child that was frightened and did not know he meant good. And just as gently and slowly he guided Nethwador's hands to hold the fiddle. "Now put it to your shoulder," he said softly, "or rather so it is more between your shoulder and your throat. Hold it with the left hand as this; you will have balance of your fiddle as well as being able to play the notes on the strings with ease. Put your chin here." Liornung taught him with great patience, but he was surprised to see that Nethwador understood perfectly and acted to his instructions with remarkable swiftness.

Liornung gestured to Bellyn, who gave him the bow, and he placed it in Nethwador's right hand. "Now hold it like this," he said, "and try not to touch the hairs with your fingers. Now run the bow gently over this string here, at this spot." Nethwador did as he was instructed and while the note was clear and distinct the sound was rather scratchy. Liornung nodded approval but Nethwador looked confused. "It's all right, lad," said Liornung. "You cannot expect it to sound wonderful the first time. In time you will produce as clear and fine a note as I, if not more so. And now let me show you how to play these other notes...." Some time passed as he did this and as Nethwador practiced, and then at last Liornung nodded. "Now you will play those notes again and again in that order while Bella sings," he said. "You will not be playing the tune of her song, but you will provide a lovely accompaniment."

"Which song is it you wish me to sing?" questioned Bella.

"The one you sung before," Liornung replied. "It ran thus..."

"Hark where the night is falling,
Hark hear the pipes a-calling!
Loudly and proudly calling down through the glen....

"And so on. Will you sing it?"

She nodded, and Liornung spoke to Nethwador once again. "Play the notes in the order I showed you as an introduction. After you play them once continue on, but after that first time through Bellyn will begin to sing. Now..." Nethwador glanced at Bellyn and then began. The sound was still scratchy at some times, and wispy at the others, but the noise was sweet to Liornung's ears. He had taught many young people how to play the fiddle but every time it was a joy. When Nethwador played the notes the first time round and then continued on as Bellyn began to sing. All of the company fell silent to listen, and when Bellyn's voice ceased to sing Nethwador played the notes twice again before letting the last note dwindle away. Tears were openly in Argeleafa's eyes, and there was a suspicious glint in Liornung's own eyes. He ducked his head and ran a hand across his face, and when he looked up his eyes were dry. He smiled and said one word. "Beautiful."

[mark12_30]

Nethwador sat quite still, holding the viol under his chin, yet gently as if holding a bird. His eyes flicked toward Amroth, and then toward Taitheneb, who had been translating with osanwe for Nethwador the entire lesson. Then he looked toward lady Bella, who had handed him the bow. She smiled, nervously.

Slowly, as if Bella were a bird that might fly away, he lowered the bow and offered it to her. She glanced at Liornung, who nodded, and Bella accepted it.

She was surprised when the fiddle followed the bow, and began to protest. But moving slowly and gently, Nethwador shifted til he knelt beside her, and guided the fiddle til it rested under her chin. Liornung laughed, and then shot a suspicious glance at Taitheneb; but Taitheneb looked surprised too; it was Amroth who seemed to take no notice.

Nethwador was indeed treating Bella as gently as if she were a bird... a tiny, delicate bird. Liornung watched closely but did not intervene while Nethwador repeated his own lesson to Bella, and she learned the same notes.