Friends Of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams, Part 2 RPG

[Imladris]

Aeron shivered in the bright sun of morning and wrapped his thin cloak closer around himself. He was tired, very tired. He had not slept well, and was not thrilled with another day of riding. Sleep, and a warm cup of tea. Yes that sounded like just the thing.

He strapped the pots and pans to the saddle with stiff clumsy fingers and drifted about, ignoring the cold glares of the elves until all was ready and off they went with shoulders bowed and heads bent. Even the horses seemed to be in low spirits.

The gentle rocking motion as the horse plodded on comforted Aeron a little. He leaned forward and rested his head on the horse's neck. The cold settled more deeply into his bones and he shuddered, pressing himself close to the horse for warmth. His eyes grew heavy --all he wanted to do was sleep.

He saw the road melt away and smiled.

"Aeron."

The voice that called his name was beautiful and cold, like light striking an icycle on a winter morning. He recognized that voice with pain and joy, and opened his eyes, shouting, "Gwyllion!"

The rest of the company had disappered. He found himself not astride a horse, but standing on green grass still glimmering with drops of dew. Gwyllion was sitting on a nearby rock, with her chin resting on her knees and her bare feet tucked under her robe. She smiled at him. "Aeron."

He said, "I have missed you, Gwyllion."

She tilted her head, frowning. "Why?"

"Because you are my sister, and I loved you." It was hard to say, he didn't know why. He realized that he had never told her that before.

"Really?"

He nodded and curled up on the grass beside her stone. The sun was warm on his stomach.

"Aeron? I saw something today..."

He glanced up in alarm. Gwyllion was rocking violently back and forth, tears trickling down her cheeks. Her face was paler than he remembered it.

"Oh a terrible thing. I saw a girl on the road, and dark shadows were clustered around her, -- they reminded me of crows. I wanted to help her but I didn't know how...I ran towards her, but then she disappeared and it made me so sad Aeron because she was crying and I couldn't help her...and I wanted to help her and I don't know what has become of her..."

"Gwyll," Aeron whispered, "Gwyllion..."

And then Gwyllion was gone, and there was just the green grass and the elves ahead of them and the snort of horses. He was on the ground and he dimly realized that he must have fallen off the horse. Ravion was staring at him sadly, and said, "You fell asleep, Aeron. You were muttering, I heard you mention your sister's name. You awoke when you fell to the ground."

"I saw Gwyllion," said Aeron distractedly as he clambered to his feet. His head ached and his vision was slightly blurred. "She was sitting on a rock and she told me of a girl she found on the road -- a weeping girl plagued with shadows whom she could not help. And the girl disappeared and Gwyllion was sad because she didn't know what became of her, sad that she couldn't have helped her...she was crying, Ravion! And I couldn't comfort her because then she was gone and I was on the ground."

[littlemanpoet]

Raefindan felt relatively at ease, having had most of the debates within himself resolved. He was supposed to be here, was supposed to travel with this party, to help Mellondu in any way that he could, to be a friend to these strangers from a time long before his own time, in the middle of which he was somehow riding. But why south? He had not been privy to the discussion and debates among the Elves and the King. He did not feel slighted thereby, for he was a visitor, a guest, and it was simple joy to wake each morning in this place where it was impossible that he should be, yet was. But why south? He had not asked, and did not choose to now; let the Elves lead on. He had enough to think on, recalling memory after memory of a time that would not come for many, many years.

Aeron fell off his horse and gave a muffled yell when he hit the ground. Ravion - who seemed to have somehow befriended Aeron, a miracle and a mercy in its own right, rivaling the storied relationship of one Gimli and one Legolas for sheer improbability - this Ravion kindly informed him that he had fallen asleep and spoken his late sister's name.

Aeron's response caught Raefindan off guard.

"You dreamed of Gwyllion, Aeron?" he asked.

"I saw her," he insisted in a partly sullen tone.

"And she spoke to you," he prompted.

But Aeron's brow furrowed. "You do not believe me?"

Raefindan closed his eyes and smiled, mildly saddened at the misunderstanding. "Aeron, I believe you. Gwyllion is tied to you. It is as Marigold said. Do you know what girl your sister spoke of?"

[Imladris]

Aeron closed his eyes and drew a ragged breath. "No, I don't know the girl. Just that she was lost, weeping, beset by shadows, and on the roadside." He stared at Raefindan. He didn't understand the man, only knew that he was misplaced here with his vibrant red hair. Yet he was wise, and caring. "Raefindan," he whispered, "it was so real. It could not have been just a dream."

Raefindan scratched his head. "It would be wise to tell Erebemlin of it."

"What?" Ask that elf, that cold distant elf who thought his precious was king was too precious to care about the humans? "Never."

"Aeron," said Raefindan gently, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder, "the elves are wise in such matters...it would be unwise to remain silent."

Aeron glared at Erebemlin who was watching the delay with impatience. Raefindan began to steer Aeron towards the elf by the arm. "Red!" Aeron snarled.

All too soon he found himself before the elf, who stared down at him. Aeron shivered and did not meet his eyes.

"What is the meaning of this delay? Every moment is precious."

Aeron stared at the ground, and only answered when Raefindan nudged him gently in the ribs. "I saw my sister," he muttered. "She was upset about a girl she saw on the road. She couldn't help her you see...maybe," he said, "we should keep an eye out for a lost little girl? Maybe that's what it meant," he went on eagerly, ignoring Erebemlin and turning towards Raefindan. "Maybe that's why I saw Gwyll, so that we would know to watch for a lost girl and then to help her when we found her!"

"It was a dream, nothing more. Mount your horses, we are moving on."

Erebemlin set a brisker, faster face that jarred Aeron to his bones. A dream? No. He closed his eyes. It couldn't have been a dream. The tears and pain had been real.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Bellyn felt her cheeks flush. Was it getting hotter? She felt warm.

"Ah, tea, I suppose?" Bellyn felt flustered as Mellonin nodded and went off to get her tea. Leafa sat down next to Bellyn, and touched her arm gently.

"Are you feeling well, Bella?" she asked, and Bellyn rubbed her temples.

"I...I feel strange. It is very hot in here," Bellyn replied, and Leafa's brows knit together in some mix of confusion and concern.

"Here, Bella!" Mellonin, her face cheerful and lighthearted, handed the cup of tea to Bellyn. "I hope you enjoy it...but if you will excuse me, I must get back to working!"

"Thank you..." Bellyn took a sip, and did not feel any better. Her skin prickled, and she felt a desperate need to walk outside into the bitter cold of winter. She put her cup down in front of her, and looked to Leafa. "Thank you for seeing me, Leafa. I just wanted to know that you were faring well. I hope you and Mellonin will come visit me sometime? I could show you where I am staying. But I am not feeling well now...the cold weather has likely made me sick, and I wish to get home before I feel worse."

"Of course! You will be alright getting home?" Leafa stood when Bellyn rose from her seat, and walked with her friend to the door.

"Yes, yes. I will see you soon, Leafa," Bellyn opened the door and smiled at the cool rush of air. She felt instantly relieved of the heat in her cheeks, though her head still ached. She hoped that Rosa would be able to make some kind of concoction to make her feel better.

[littlemanpoet]

Iorgil had been most helpful. He was sitting just outside Maegeleb's cell, as silently directed. He read the guard's mind while making small talk.

"What weather this day?"

"Calm but chill." The guard muffled a belch from supper.

He has been down to the Seven Stars Inn, as I suggested to his mind.

"You have eaten well, then?"

"Your pardon. Aye, well."

He has sat near enough to overhear the conversations of the women I held captive in the swamp.

"At the king's mess?"

"Nay. There's an inn on the fourth level. The Seventh Star they call it."

Maegeleb probed his mind. Humans were pathetic. There were the memories, each word and image clearly held in store, but Maegeleb knew that this man, if asked, would only be able to bring to speech a smattering of it. This way was much more efficient.

“Leafa!” An embrace. “Bella!” An invitation to sit.

"The ale must be passing fair judging by the breath with which you sour my cell."

"Aye, 'twas very good."

Less than a day. Already misses them. So the men have left Minas Anor. Sick of being here and doing nothing. Take care, a sure sign of intending to do something, like leaving Minas Anor as well.

"The least you could do was smuggle some in for me if you're going to fill my cell with vapors."

Iorgil shook his head. "Water for prisoners, that is all."

Where is Mellonin?” "Bella! Good morning! How fared you the night?" Slept well. Harder than she thought. Misses them. Pathetic humans.

"When do I get my day end meal?"

"You had it already."

Small talk of food and drink. Making such a big to-do about food and drink.

"I would like some more."

"You'll get no more."

"Are you feeling well, Bella?" The one named Bellyn seems on the verge of fever. What does that portend?

"Mind your manners. You speak to an elf lord."

"Lord or slave, a prisoner you are and one serving is enough. Orders."

Iorgil, you will go back to the Inn for breakfast and pay attention to these young women to hear and see what you can."

Iorgil stretched. "I think I'll go back there for breakfast. Looked like good food."

"You gall me with your talk of food, oh prison guard. You are most unkind."

Iorgil stretched again and yawned. "Be that as it may, lights out. I bid you a good night."

Maegeleb did not reply, but lay on his cot thinking things through long after the torch was extinguished.

[mark12_30]

An early morning, a long day, and a late night. And now to bed.

She was somewhat cheered to have Leafa nearby, and to have had a visit from Bella. Although truth be told, she barely knew them.

How she missed her brother, and how she missed Raefindan. And...

She pulled the covers up tightly around her chin, and squeezed her eyes shut.

How gentle he had been, lifting her chin with one careful finger, so that she had to look into his eyes. Those green eyes; like the leaves in August, rich and strong, shimmering, moving in the wind.

She opened her eyes, and shifted, and closed them again, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. Her hand, passing across her cheek, touched a place that was too smooth. Her scar. Only it wasn't a scar; it was baby-new skin. Marigold had treated her.

But before they had arrived at Marigold's house, Ravion had treated it first; cleaned it, salved it, and dressed it, all with that gentle touch, and with trouble and concern in those forest-green eyes.

She dreamt of woodlands, and trees, and loving eyes; healing hands, the caress of water; a golden voice, the laughter of the sun-filled stream. At first. But then the woods turned cold, and the leaves fell, and the more she looked for friendly eyes, the more she saw the sun glaring off the ice. She stumbled along in her dreams, her hand warding off the glare, her feet colder and colder, her hands stiffening. She struggled on, searching for the caring eyes, the cheering voice, the healing touch; the cold stones cut her feet, the ice tore at her hands, and the silence burdened her struggling heart.

[littlemanpoet]

As they rode south at a pace that was not in the least comfortable, Raefindan's eyes wandered from the mix of hurt and determination in Aeron's face, to the back of Erebemlin's head. He felt for Aeron. His instinct was to be angry with Erebemlin for his dunderheaded blindness.

It's one thing to be single mindedly committed to the purpose of your lord, Erebemlin; that's something I can personally relate to- Raefindan rehearsed the words in his mind that he doubted he'd ever actually say -but to dismiss another's dream out of hand because it doesn't fit with your agenda, is just plain foolish.

No, it wouldn't do to say that to Erebemlin. If he wouldn't listen to Aeron, he wasn't about to listen to Raefindan either; he would likely dismiss his words as the product of misplaced human sympathy. Would Erebemlin be accurate in that? Raefindan asked himself. No. Marigold had directed Aeron to cut a lock of Gwyllion's hair and keep it on his person so that the two would be bound to each other. That meant that Gwyllion was in fact likely to appear to Aeron in dreams, if not visions. Because of Marigold, Raefindan was convinced that Gwyllion's ghost was not far, had not yet traveled beyond the walls of the world. Marigold seemed to understand that the girl's purpose was not yet complete in Middle Earth. A sense of peace and contentment settled over Raefindan as he thought about this, for he was sure that Marigold's deed was part of a larger pattern, a weave, perhaps, that threaded all their actions, thoughts, and dreams together toward a purpose that none of them knew, and that the reuniting of Amroth and Nimrodel was only one small part of. Yes, this was the way things really worked; Raefindan had seen such things happen too many times to count to doubt his thought now.

"Never fear, Aeron, your dream is true, and we'll see how it weaves itself into the tapestry of our quest."

Aeron looked at him in some bewilderment. "How can you always be so cheerful and sure?"

Raefindan chuckled. It would be too hard to explain. "I think it best not to give you words to answer. Let us watch and wait, and see how the weave of events reveals the answer to your query."

Aeron looked even more confused now. "Weave of eve Ents? Reeve eels? Quarry? Raefindan, you're back to making no sense. Are there Ents that weave at dusk somewhere in southern Gondor? Eels that act like aldermen? And do I have a quarry?"

Raefindan laughed. "I'll try again. Let us see what happens, and your dream will find its meaning."

"That's better! But how that has to do with ents and eels and quarries I do not know!"

Raefindan laughed again. "Nor I! But let that be a lesson to me to take care of my words!"