Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[Orual]

"My 'lass', as you put it, is nearly as far out of reach--" Ravion broke off, seeing a hurt expression on Aeron's face. He shook his head, running his hands through his hair. "I am sorry, Aeron. That was unfair of me." Aeron shrugged.

They sat there, two silent figures with similar expressions of pain in their eyes, staring up at the sky. Looking out of the corner of his eye at Aeron, Ravion wondered if the stars held any more answers for the boy than they did for the Ranger. He found no solace in them.

He saw in Aeron's eyes a pain and confusion that was achingly familiar to him. He knew that the boy probably woke up at night and looked for his sister. Again he realized how brave Aeron was, to be able to compare his own loss to the loss that Ravion was inflicting on himself.

He stood up, and extended a hand to Aeron. Characteristically, the boy refused the help and stood up on his own. "It is late, Aeron," Ravion said. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow will surely be another long day."

[Imladris]

That night, Aeron's sleep was restless, and he dreamed of his sister, Gwyllion. He remembered the murlocks, her blood that stained the ground, the wreath of flowers in her hair, how the fear had seemed to fade from her face when she had been brought to Marigold's dwelling.

It had been peaceful there, like a pool of sunshine in a glassy dale.

He awoke when the sun was still low in the sky. Quietly, he slipped from his bed and stole his way out the Inn towards the little hovel they had once called home. The place had a lonely feel, he thought as he stared at the crumbling cornerstones framed by drooping weeds.

As the first rays of the sun gilded the sky, he went into their mouldering dwelling and pryed up a loose floorboard to reveal a rather large and lumpy dusty velvet sack that tinkled with cold delicacy as he lifted it from the hole in the floor. He looked hastily over his shoulder as he crept back into the streets again. He was a thief after all...it would not due to be caught -- an urchin with a sackful of precious gems and gold coins...the only thing the authorites could do was to throw him into a jail cell.

Aeron flitted down the streets of Minas Tirith until he found an market place full of bustling women bartering for goods. Quietly, from the shadow of closely clustered buildings, he hurled the sack into the midst of them. Golden coins gushed and pattered to the pavement, rubies glinted in the sun and sapphires winked at the young ladies.

Aeron slipped away as the people gasped, and clustered around the wealth snatching it from the streets with greedy hands.

Thief's honour. That was what Ravion had said. And it was because of this honour that he had thrown the work of years into the streets. He had stolen them for Gwyllion and himself. Little Gwyl was gone, and he did not need the hoarded wealth. Let others have it who was in greater need of it than himself.

~*~

It was evening before Aeron returned to the Inn and slumped into a chair beside Ravion, who was brooding over a mug of ale. Aeron didn't say anything to him, deciding to wait in silence for the others to return.

[alaklondewen]

Even though his parents’ home buzzed with friendly chatter, Mellondu sat glumly, stewing over the predicament in which he now found himself. Glancing up, he found Erebemlin searching his face as if he already expected to see signs of the great Amroth. Mellondu clinched his jaw and looked back down at his hands. He hated this. He could still feel the Elf king within him, but he did not want to relinquish control…not again, especially after all that had happened.

The sound of his sister’s voice babbling happily brought Mellondu out of his thoughts. “…and that’s when we met Gwyl…”

“Mellonin, no,” the young man interrupted. His voice was sharp but low in volume.

The other travelers became quiet, and Mellonin looked indignantly at her brother. “Well, I would rather speak of her life than…” Mellonin stopped herself.

“It’s just too soon.”

Mother recognized the tension in the room and stepped between her children. “There will be more time for tales and song before this evening is finished. For now, let us eat.” She forced a smile and took Mellonin’s hand. “Come, Light-Love, help me serve our guests.”

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

The laughter and storytelling before dinner was served came out forced and half-hearted. Whatever silent burden hung over the heads of the travelers permeated into their conversations. When Mellonin’s mother began to serve the meal, the friends quieted and thanked her graciously. It was a simple bean pudding, sweetened with honey, but everyone knew that no food on the road could hold contest with a good, home-cooked meal.

Appreciation for the hospitality overflowed from the visitors. There were occasional choruses of “this is wonderful” and “thank you” during the meal, but otherwise the visitors hardly spoke.

When everyone had finished eating, Mellonin and her mother took the dishes. There were many offers to help them wash, but these offers were politely refused. Mellonin started to continue the story of their journey, but hesitated to speak at all of Gwyllion. Mellondu’s stinging gaze threatened more moody and angry words should the conversation take a direction he did not like. After what seemed like ages of awkward jump-start-stalling discussion and storytelling, Mellonin looked over to Liornung.

“Well, our new friends have traveled far as well,” she said, smiling faintly. Mellonin looked at her mother. “They have come from Rohan.”

Bellyn turned to Liornung as well, and saw that in his eyes were images and memories of Rohan; of his own home. Argeleafa’s eyes held the same nostalgic expression. Liornung began to recount his story, from the beginning: meeting Bellyn, catching up to Ædegard, trying to catch up to the ‘mad blacksmith’.

Bellyn realized as Liornung told the tale that it all began wonderfully and mysteriously. Bellyn had drawn and read and revised her father’s maps for years, and always desired to see what was beyond her home. She remembered looking out over the valleys with Liornung and seeing the colors of the sunset – at first, she had never wanted to go back to Rohan.

But Liornung’s story quickly progressed into darker territory.

“Well, then, we rode off, for we saw their company on the horizon,” Bellyn listened eagerly, though she knew the ending.

“It is getting late,” Mellondu spoke before Liornung could introduce Tharonwe into the story and speak of the kidnapping of the women. Both his parents and Mellonin cast him a reproachful look.

“That it is,” agreed Ædegard. He looked to Erebemlin, who nodded, face solemn as Bellyn had always seen it. Does he not smile? Bellyn wondered. The group stood from their seats and moved towards the door. “We shall take our leave then.”

“Thank you for welcoming us to your home,” Raefindan said, looking towards Mellonin and Mellondu’s parents. He opened the door and led the way out.

“Yes, thank you very much, especially for having us to dinner,” added Liornung. A chorus of ‘thank-you’ followed from Bellyn and Leafa. Erebemlin gave one last lingering look to Mellondu before thanking his parents, and Nethwador followed Bellyn out of the home.

[alaklondewen]

Smoke and light poured through the door of the inn into the cold night air as the band of travelers returned from their visit with the Gondorian family. The common room was warm in contrast to the air outside. A warm fire glowed in the fire place lighting the face of the ranger who sat before it.

“Why Master Aeron!” Raefindan stepped toward the boy as Erebemlin finally noticed the young thief beside the ranger.

The Elf watched the humans greet the boy, but Erebemlin stood behind them, irritated that the foolish youth thought he could just turn up unexpectedly after running away like a child and then rejoin the company. The boy did not receive a welcome from the tall Sinda, rather the Elf returned to his room to speak with Taitheneb.

[alaklondewen]

Taitheneb could not help but show his relief when Erebemlin opened the door and entered the small room in the inn. “Silmaethor, have you brought news?”

Erebemlin eyed Tharonwe, who smiled mockingly at the tall elf, and then faced Taitheneb again. “Have you eaten your evening meal, mellon?”

“Aye, we had a meal brought to us here. A few pieces of bread and cheese are left if you would…”

Erebemlin held up his hand before his companion could finish. Shaking his head, he sat upon the bed and leaned against the wall, stretching his arms and placing his hands behind his head. Erundil shifted his weight in his chair, catching Erebemlin’s attention. “The other humans are in the common room if you wish to join them.” The elf glanced sideways at the ranger before looking back up at the ceiling.

“In that case, I will take your leave, Master Elf.” Erundil rose and crossed the room.

Taitheneb studied Erebemlin with a frown at his aloofness toward the man. “I thank you, Erundil.”

“As do I, Master Ranger,” came the patronizing voice of Tharonwe.

Erundil glanced at the elder elf on the bed, then the swamp elf, and nodded to Taitheneb before he slipped out of the door.

“Now, young one, what news have you brought us?” The swamp elf leaned back on his hands and tipped his head to the side.

Erebemlin closed his eyes and bit his tongue at being called young one. After a moment, he sat forward, facing Taitheneb. “We will leave at Dawn in three days.”

Taitheneb looked at him questioningly and then asked, “And which direction will we head, north or south?”

“The boy has agreed to finish the quest. We will pass through the Southern Gate.”

Taitheneb raised his eyebrows, and then laughed light-heartedly. “Why, Silmaethor, that is wonderful news!”

“Ah yes, wonderful news. You will be wasting your time on a hopeless quest.” Tharonwe sneered. “I am sure your Lord Amroth would be proud of your efforts. Of course, it is a pity he will never see it.”

“Quiet, Dark One!” Erebemlin glared at the swamp elf. “It is a pity you will never see the joy upon Nimrodel‘s face when she looks upon her love and my king.” The tall Sinda turned to Taitheneb. “I have thought much about what action we should take against this snake.”

Taitheneb nodded, having wondered what would be done as well.

“Tomorrow, we will bring him before King Elessar. The king will be better able to care for him, and then we can be rid of his presence...for good.”

[littlemanpoet]

Raefindan sat at table listening to the others talk. Silence agreed with him, for the most part. He had much to think about. Such as the fact that he was Raefindan here. That was settled for him now. He had memories of being Roy Edwards in the future, and memories of being Imrazor in the past. Which was he? All three. But how? How was he as Roy dreaming himself as Raefindan, failing to wake up for weeks at a time? Was Maegeleb whom the others called Tharonwe correct? So far, no other explanation fit the facts as well. So how was he dreaming this? How was he, Raefindand, dreaming himself as Imrazor? Indeed. He had no idea. Well, he had an inkling. He chuckled to himself at coming up with that word, but held his peace.

So here, now, he was Raefindan. And he was determined to do all he could to help Amroth find Nimrodel. But why should it matter? Why did it matter? He did not know yet, but that would not stop him. No, it drove him on.

But why me? he asked himself. He could think of nothing about himself that made him specially suited to helping Amroth find Nimrodel .... except that he was Imrazor. ... or dreamed that he was Imrazor. Did it really make any difference which way it was? No, it did not, because his experiences as Imrazor affected him just as much as his experiences as Raefindan. And as Roy. But was that it? What use had the Powers for bringing Imrazor back into it? Ah, but he wasn't just Imrazor. He was indeed that man of Numenorean descent, half-elvish it was, who happened to have extensive knowledge of a certain set of books! But weren't they fiction? Suddenly his head hurt.

You are ill of mind, Roy Edwards, Maegeleb had said.

Raefindan shook his head ruefully. Anyway, he was forced by his current circumstances to regad those books as history unfeigned! So why did the Powers want him involved, knowing what he knew? He had no idea. But he was determind to find out.

"What cud are you chewing with such determination, Raefindan?" asked Ædegard.

"Hm?" Raefindan raised his brow and looked at Ædegard across the table, Leafa seated him his left, Liornung on her other side, with Bellyn across from him. Aeron and Liornung sat at another table. "Oh, dreams within dreams."

"You riddle as much as ever, Raefindan," Ædegard smirked.

"I fear to say too much that would do those within my hearing no good."

"You? You speak such wisdom!"

"So I try, Ædegard, so I try, but that does not keep me from being foolish betimes. But I am glad that we will continue the quest."

"Think you that Mellondu is ready? He did not seem so," Ædegard asked.

"I do not know," Raefindan said. "I surely hope so, or we will be battling against ourselves the whole way!"