Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[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.

[mark12_30]

Jorje sat and watched Mellonin approach Ravion. He looked at Raefindan, who did not return his devoted gaze.

He sighed, sniffed the wind, scratched his ear, looked at Raefindan again, walked to Gwyllion and nudged her hand.

[Imladris]

Gwyllion watched Mellonin creep towards Ravion. Her face was white and a little pinched at the corners of the mouth. She really could not blame Mellonin for being afraid to aproach the ranger. He was a ranger after all.

He was tall. Dark. Brooding. And he and Aeron did not get along in her humble opinion. In fact, why wasn't her brother more afraid of that ranger? Because, as she had supposed all along, her brother did not have a mind in that head of his.

Jorge ambled beside Mellonin and cocked his head at her. With awag of his tail he came towards Gwyllion and nuzzled her. Nuzzled her with his wet, slimy, black nose. "No touching," she hissed, shoving his nose away.

He looked at her, his big brown eyes wide and limpid.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do not even give me that look."

Jorge glanced at Mellonin and whimpered. She sighed. He was saying plain as plain that she should go over there....with Mellonin....to face the ranger. She closed her eyes. She didn't want to go over there....to stand beside the ranger who had shed lots of blood. Blood....red blood.... She clenched her fists. She would not have another fit.

Well....Mellonin was her friend and she had already taken enough from Aeron. She marched towards her and slipped her arm about her waist and tried to smile at the ranger...

[Orual]

Ravion turned to Mellonin, surprised. "For what I've...done," he repeated blankly.

"Yes, for what you've done," Mellonin said, her voice tight. She seemed eager to get away as soon as possible.

"Oh." Ravion looked down and frowned, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. How was he supposed to respond to that? He did not know how to react to a woman saying something like that...what did she mean? Was it what she was saying? His fellow Rangers always said that women never said what they meant. "You are...you are welcome."

He turned away, glad that he was through with that. But Mellonin was not. "I truly appreciate it," she said.

"Thank you," Ravion said. He coughed. "Thank you."

Mellonin looked at him for a moment, then turned to leave.

"Mellonin," Ravion called. She turned. He swallowed, and walked up to her. "All that I have done for you...I am not sure that it has been that much."

Mellonin frowned, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we have been travelling for weeks now, and are no closer to finding your brother than we were in the first," he said. "I have led you poorly. I was an ill choice to guide you. I am sorry."

[mark12_30]

"Sorry?" Mellonin echoed. She looked at Gwyllion, and realised that her mouth was open, jaw hanging. "Sorry? Ill choice?"

He waited.

"Ill choice?" she repeated, her voice rising.

He considered taking a step backwards, but stood his ground.

"We have been travelling for seven days. One week, no more. And barely that. And in that time you have led us through land I have never seen, on paths I do not know. You dove in alone to save my friend--" here she gave Gwyllion a rough shake-- "while I stood on the bank doing nothing. You went hunting after my sick redhaired friend and rescued him from some cave where he was prisoner. And you saved this childish brat--" she jabbed a trembling finger towards Aeron as her voice grew shrill-- "from a scavenging pirate and his friend who wanted his skin or worse. What say you to that? Were it not for you, we would be enslaved, prisoners, or-- or-- or fish-bait. Ill choice indeed! I think not. I think not!"

She turned on her heel and stormed away from him, past the fire. Raefindan opened his mouth to speak and she jabbed a finger at him. "I thanked him. Now you leave me in peace for one hour!" She passed him, crested the small rise, walked another twenty paces and sat down with her back to the group.

"Your feet won't dry over there, " Raefindan called.

"One hour!" she snapped.

Raefindan chose a stick, and stirred the fire.

[Imladris]

Aeron's jaw dropped. A childish brat? Who was she calling a childish brat? He looked around. There was no other child around except Gwyll --- and her finger hadn't been pointing at his valaric sister. He shifted his jaw to the side and glared at Raefindan. No...she was too attached to him. It was certain. She was referring to himself of all people.

He stalked toward and said, "A childish brat? You think I'm childish brat?" he shouted.


"What else could you be?" snapped Mellonin.

"Anything but a childish brat!" How could anyone think he was a childish brat? Childish brats were people who kicked and screamed at fate, who sulked when they didn't get their way and have their every whim provided. He a childish brat? Hardly.

He glared at her. What had she done to help? How had she done to save their necks? How had she help save Gwyllion? It was probably her fault in the first place that Gwyll had gone too close to the water. "You haven't done anything on this bloody expedition!" he said, his voice tight. He considerred how far he could go without getting a beating from Ravion.

She glared at him. She was breathing rather heavily Aeron thought. Good.

"Oh. So you have no words to say to me, eh? That means I'm right. Your silence prooves that I am not a childish brat." He smirked at her.

"Yes you are. You are stupid, careless and a thief. You do not even care when someone could be dead."

Oh. So his words about her brother was what was causing all this hard feeling. "At least I don't moan about it and feel sorry for myself all blasted day," he snapped. "I accept what life offers and I don't waste the days being afraid that someone is dead or in fear that my brother (or sister in my case) is moonstruck. So bloody what? Does moaning about it and wallowing in self pity like some....some...plump swine change the course of this world?"

[mark12_30]

She glared disdainfully. "Insect. Small help do you give to the course of this world. The fealty you swear to yourself is boundless. It must be so, for no other will have you or follow you. Were it not for your sister, your company would be worthless. As it is, she pays for your keep; your selfish, filthy, brash, self-serving and loathsome keep. "