Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[littlemanpoet]

"Shall we march, or rest, Raefindan? What think you?" Ravion asked.

It was not as easy a question as it might have seemed to someone looking in from outside. Raefindan allowed a fleeting grin to pass over his face, for that kind of thought was quite alien to this place called Middle Earth, which was not his home. Raefindan focused his attention. Mellonin's dream was not merely troublesome. This was worse. It reminded him of how he had felt when the Elf had forced him to dream. If that was so.....

"We must be away from here, Ravion," he said suddenly, with more force than he had used in any speech for a long time. "I do not trust that Elf, nor the beast in the waters."

"Mind you, Raefindan, you are weak, and we have all barely escaped with our lives."

"All the more reason to leave this place, which I think you know."

"Aye."

Raefindan helped Ravion to encourage the others to move. Aeron, kicking at a bit of turf, looked at Mellonin down his nose. Gwyllion stamped up to him and punched him on the shoulder.

"The real men in this group do not turn up their noses at a woman's sorrow, and neither should you, you beastly boy!"

Aeron made to swing back at her, but she ducked out of reach. "Little you know, Gwyllion, and I am older than you and know more of the ways of the world."

"Hah!"

"It is time to move your feet and not your mouths!" Ravion called over his back as he checked Gond's pack.

Jorje was sniffing at Mellonin's hand and face, eager to lick her salty tears.

"Come, Jorje," said Raefindan. Jorje wagged his tail. Raefindan patted his head, and knelt before Mellonin. "Come, my friend, let us put some distance between us and that Swamp Elf and his evil dreams." He offered her his hand.

Mellonin looked to him. "Do you think that my brother is not dead?" She placed her hand in his, and he lifted her to her feet.

"I cannot say, but a dream dreamed in this swamp is no clear arbiter." They began to follow the others, Jorje tailing them, his tongue lolling happily.

"No clear hour bitter? What do you mean?"

"Pay no mind. It is one of my odd words. What I mean to say is that I would not trust a dream dreamed here." Mellonin nodded. "We will not travel far."

[Nurumaiel]

Liornung laughed again and clapped Ædegard on the shoulder. "What a little boy you are," he said, his voice full of mirth. "Come, come, surely you do not take so seriously the teasing of an old man." As he had often done since he had left Edoras with Bellyn, he winked at the lass.

Ædegard looked at Argeleafa again and she smiled. "Perhaps," she said, "if you cannot entertain us with song and music you might tell us a little story."

"Yes," said Liornung, looking with approval at Argeleafa. "What a wise little lassie you are! You told me a story just moments ago, Ædegard, and you told it in a way that captured my attention. Tell another story." He flung his hands out wide. "Laugh in a manner that makes others laugh too. Do something to entertain us. Argeleafa," he said, turning to her, "make a request of him. Surely he will endeavour to please you."

She paused and considered a moment, and then her face brightened and she said to Ædegard, "Tell us about your family."

[Orual]

Ravion kept a wary eye on his surroundings as they put as much distance between themselves and the elf as possible. Every noise made him jump, from small creatures around them to Gwyllion's chatter from the back of the group. His knuckles were white from the tight hold he had on Gond's lead.

His ankle still throbbed occasionally from the memory of the beast's tentacle, and a chill would pass over him briefly. He knew the same must be happening to Aeron, Gwyllion, and Mellonin, and that Raefindan would be going through something similar. The previous night had been an ordeal.

Perhaps he was leading them poorly. He rubbed his temples when the thought came to him. Why had he allowed Mellonin and Gwyllion to stay there, by the water? He should have sensed that there was something in the water. Why had he not come back faster with Raefindan? Why had he allowed Gond to bolt with Raefindan in the first place? Why had he--

Gond snorted, bringing Ravion back to reality. He looked back, and his companions were all still wrapped up in conversation. His companions. He was supposed to be leading them. Could he still do it?

He was not sure.

[Imladris]

Gwyllion sidled down to Mellonin and took her hand. "My brother says that dreams are vapourish mists. They make monsters out of trees and ghosts out of squirrels."

Aeron, who had followed his sister, added, "Yes, don't care a fig for them."

There he was again, saying weird things. She tried to remember if Raefindan had ever used the phrase and he must have. Yes...he said it a week ago. How could her brother remember things for so long? She shook her head. What an amazing brother.

"I had nightmares once," said Gwyllion.

"And she was silly enough to believe them," finished Aeron, playfully punching her in the shoulder.

She slapped him back and said, "But....they were real, but they were not not true."

She looked at Mellonin's drawn face, pale and white, her eyes rimmed with spidery red lines, and hoped that she had comforted her. She swallowed, and swiftly enwrapped her in a brief hug. "If your brother is alive," she whispered, "Ravion will find them."

"But I think it would best to prepare yourself to find him lost in the head or dead at the worst," said Aeron. "That way you won't be shocked to find him either mad or dead and if he is alive and well, you will be pleasantly surprised, shocked and delighted."

[littlemanpoet]

"A story of my family." Ædegard considered. "I will tell you of how I got my sister."

"Why, I would think," Liornung deadpanned, "it was most likely by the normal means, friend Ædegard!"

"That it was not." Ædegard glanced around the group. Bella tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, as if wondering what other way there was. Liornung raised his brow. Leafa met his eyes and waited for him to continue. Nethador watched the others, pulling at the brown grass, glowering with obvious frustration at not being able to understand what befell.

"I was not my parents' first baby. They have told me that I was the fifth, but the only one to live beyond my first month. Six babies more my parents tried to bring into the world, but none others of them survived. Only I, and a sickly babe I was, to hear them tell it. Mama pined for a girl child, and Papa wanted to give her one that would live, but it was not to be. Maybe it was the dark and stuffy wheelwright shop that sickened Mama each time, and sickened me in my first year. I know not.

"Mama's sister, Aunt Penda, and her husband, Uncle Théobald, lived out west by the Isen, where they kept herds at the feet of the Thrihyrne, just beyond the Gap of Rohan. When I had seen twelve summers, they died in an attack by Dunlendings. My cousin, Théolyn, would have been murdered with them, but she had been sent into the foothills of the Thrihyrne to tend the sheep, and the Dunlendings did not search up there. 'Twas her good fortune, and ours, though we all grieved the loss of her Penda and Theobald. The elder of the folk beyond the gap sent word to Edoras, and so we learned of Théolyn's orphanage. We gave word that we would take her in, and she was brought to us. Since then it has become easy to call her sister. I often forget that she is only cousin. It matters not, for she brightens our dark home, and Mama's spirits. If not for her, we would find it hard to care for Papa, who is now too sick to work.

"Forgive me for telling you such a sad story, but it is not all sad. I am glad that Théolyn is home to care for my parents." Ædegard frowned. "I should be there, too. I have been away too long already." He looked to Leafa, words hovering on his lips, but he left them unsaid, and stared at the ground between his knees.

[mark12_30]

The comfort she recieved from Gwyllion was destroyed by Aeron's comment. She turned away from him. For the rest of the march she was silent, eyes on the ground. Raefindan walked beside her. Ravion had given Gond's lead to Aeron, who now walked in the rear, bickering with Gwyllion; Ravion strode northwest. They crossed another stream, with little enthusiasm, and marched on til they found another dead tree and a place for a campfire, and once again dried their boots and their feet.

"We may as well rest here for the night, " said Ravion, looking at Mellonin.

She nodded, and did not look up.

Ravion took Gond off to one side, stripped him and groomed him vigorously. Raefindan looked on for several moments; Gond's lips twitched in bliss as Ravion found one itchy spot after another. Then Raefindan spoke to Mellonin.

"You've hardly spoken to the ranger for several days now. We have been through much that should draw us together." He studied her.

"What of it?" she said.

"You are worried about your brother, I know. But so is he, " said Raefindan. "Perhaps you should tell him of your dreams."

"No!" she snapped. All heads turned and looked at her; Jorje put his ears back and whined, wagging his tail.

"Good dog, " soothed Raefindan. "Stay. Good dog." Ravion returned his attention to Gond. Aeron and Gwyllion resumed bickering.

"Perhaps then you should talk to him about the weather, " he continued in a whisper.

Mellonin drew her knees to her chin, staring at her toes and then at the fire. "Why should I talk to him?"

Raefindan shook his head, nonplussed. He opened his mouth to say in frustration, because it is rude not to, when a new thought hit like a locomotive. Raefindan stopped dead in his thought: locomotive? An image came to mind that did not fit in this world at all, but the feeling he was left with rocked him as he sat. He looked at Ravion, then back to Mellonin, then at Ravion again, and back to Mellonin, and nodded his head. Because you fight against your heart.

Mellonin looked up at Raefindan, annoyed by his silence. "He is a strong man. He needs nothing from me, " she said.

Raefindan's eyebrows went up. "Do you wish it were otherwise?"

Her eyes flashed. "How dare you ask me this?"

He shifted, and relaxed. "Well, perhaps because my life depends on all of you, and each of yours depends on each other. And Mellondu's life depends, I believe, on all of us."

Her face twisted and her eyes filled with tears. She felt a strong desire to strike him. "You... " She made fists of her hands.

Raefindan looked up.

"Is all well?" Ravion asked, drawing near.

"Yes, " replied Mellonin through clenched teeth, wishing again that she could lash out at Raefindan.

Ravion halted two paces away from Mellonin, and gazed at her, glancing occasionally to Raefindan. She said nothing. Her face reddened, and she knew it, and put her brow on her knees.

Ravion waited a few moments, and then glancing again at Raefindan, he stepped backwards for several paces, and returned to Gond.

Raefindan would not give up. "You could at least thank him for his efforts to date." His eyes twinkled, and the corners of his mouth curled upwards.

She seethed. Men. Sages and kings all, each seeing their whim as law! Is there no fleeing the rule of men? Not Raefindan, not Ravion, not that rash, selfish, proud little boy who thinks himself wiser than his moonstruck little sister!
His little sister, indeed, was wiser in all her madness than he. The thought made her smile. She wiped away a tear, tempted to fling that latest thought in Aeron's face. But Raefindan still watched her. Thank him... he certainly deserves my thanks. "If I do, will you leave me alone?"

"For an hour, perhaps." He grinned at her.

A smile fought with her tears for control of her face. "Oh, you beast. Raefindan, you are a beastly... beast!"

His grin broadened. "So how do you say "Red-Haired Beast?"

She swiped her tears of fury with her sleeve, stood, glared at him again (still fighting the smile), squared her shoulders, and strode towards Ravion.

You fool. What are you doing? You will regret this. Say nothing to him. You will only embarrass yourself more deeply than ever. Do not look at him, do not speak to him.

'Thank you for what you've done." she said. She could think of nothing more to say, and the silence thundered in her mind.

[Imladris]

Women. They were so...annoying. Yes. That's it. Fickle as the wind. Mad one moment, happy the rest. And then they expected the men to keep up with them. He rolled his eyes.

"Poor Mellonin."

"She's taking everything too hard," said Aeron. "If he dies, he dies....everybody dies. It has to happen sooner or later." Yes. That was it. Women didn't like the truth.

"I can see my grave would not have been watered by your tears," said Gwyllion, scowling.

"I also think it silly to mope about mourning for the dead," said Aeron. "Like you have for our father. The dead do not return, no matter how hard you cry."

Gwyllion stopped, her eyebrows carved in a viscious frown, and said, "You do not know if our father is dead!"

Trying to deny the truth as usual. What was it with her. "He is not coming back!" he shouted.

"He is too!"

"Well, then why hasn't he come back after all these blasted years, Gwyll! Either he's dead or he hates us. I think it is the latter and I don't care if I never see him again."

"You are despicable."

Gwyllion spat at him and then trotted over talk with Raefindan. What was wrong with her? She was living and dwelling in the past like a fool. She could waste away her life for all her cared.

[mark12_30]

Amroth lay on his back, stargazing with his shortsighted eyes while he searched the riverbanks over and over and over with the eyes of his heart. She was not here; not if her thoughts were open.

And what if Erebemlin was right? What if her thoughts were closed? What if she had closed them for fear of the Dark Lord, and not opened them again?

A thousand years, he reminded himself. A thousand years had passed since he had leapt from the ship. A thousand years...

His reason revolted against it. How could he have waited a thousand years to come back for his love, his breath, his soul, his very life? It could not be true. And yet, his heart did not doubt it was; not when he studied Erebemlin; a thousand years of Erebemlin's memory lay between now and Erebemlin's last farewell to Amroth. It was no lie.

So where had the thousand years gone? Was he a thousand years in the water? That could not be. Had he been a thousand years under some spell? Or some restraint? Somehow that felt nearer the mark, and yet how could an elf be so restrained for so long, and not know it? Where else but--

Mandos.

A searing pain went through his mind, and panic gripped him; just as quickly, a soft fog settled over his thoughts. He retreated as puzzled as a dog chastened by a kitten. He shook his head, and rubbed his weak eyes, squinting at the stars; why could he see so little? And why did... What had he been thinking? He had been nearer to solving some puzzle, and now he had forgotten the question that had so intrigued him.

It did not matter. One thing mattered. One thing... Nimrodel. Where was she?

Where are you? Beloved, open your thoughts. I long for you. I cannot rest without you. Hear me, Nimrodel, my love. Where have you hidden? Oh, hide from me no more. Hear me, Nimrodel, Nimrodel!

Nearby, Erebemlin and Taitheneb exchanged glances as Amroth's cry cut through their thoughts. Even the mannish folk turned, aware of Amroth's sorrow. Nethwador left the others, hurried to Amroth's side, and laid his hand on the king's shoulder.

Erebemlin joined him, and spoke softly to the king. "Sleep, my lord. Perhaps you will find her in dreams. Sleep now."

His longing drove him into his dreams, and as the shadows and tempest neared him, he embraced it. Waves, dust, fear, despair, he swam through it all, reaching for every shadow in the hope that he might find her.