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littlemanpoet · 02-27-2004, 10:22 PM

Lunch time could not come soon enough for Raefindan. Melonnin's company was the only reprieve he had from the drudgery, which he was certain he was not used to, what ever iot was he had done wherever he had been before he lost his memory.

And then there were the dead ends of his own thoughts. On one hand there were the dreams of Imrazor and Mithrellas. On the other was his failed memory. His throat caught whenever he thougth of Mithrellas; there was a connection between his dream and his past, and he could not piece it together. Why can't I remember anything before I showed up here?

It was exasperating. Which is a word nobody around here uses. That was another thing. He had many words in his head that Mellonin and the others simply did not comprehend, always taking them at the face value meaning, which led to all kinds of strange misunderstandings. What's a sponge? He laughed to himself as he rubbed the same spot on the floor for what seemed the hundredth time.

At last it was time for lunch, and the guests had been served. Raefindan knew to wait for his lunch until after Mellonin had served all the guests. They sat at table eating what was left of the mid day cold roast and brown bread.

"You spoke of Amroth as restless and searching, of Nimrodel as despairing, and of Mellondu as confused." Raefindan paused to drink some water. "Imrazor's dreams are filled with wonder at having to wife an elf as beautiful as Mithrellas, who bears him children that take after her in beauty; but every dream ends in loss, for she has left him, and he is heartbroken. It is as if she has died, for she might as well have, since she wants nothing so much as the sea and her friend, Nimrodel. For me, Mellonin, it is like having something I was supposed to have had, and was denied. I do not know how that is. What I can tell you is that the loss in the end is bittersweet either way, for there is some recompense in the dreams, with Imrazor's children, and in my past, I think, in some way I cannot remember."

"Reckon pence? What is that? It sounds like counting money."

Raefindan shook his head. "I am sorry. I mean to say that it is like receiving payment for having suffered."

"Have you suffered, then, Raefindan?" Melonnin's tone was soft.

"So it would seem, though in what way I cannot say. If I could only gain my memory back!"

"Maybe a way will be found in the dreams."

"One can only hope."

"Did you ever recall who Jorje was?"

Raefindan laughed. "You remember that. By George, I think you've got it! No, I don't remember who George was. But I don't think it was important. It would be like saying, By the sword of the King! or something like that."

"Maybe this Jorje is the king where you come from."

"Why not?" Raefindan laughed again. Mellonin eyed him over her plate of food, wondering just how sane this young man was.

02-27-2004, 10:22 PM	#275
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,072	tapestry Lunch time could not come soon enough for Raefindan. Melonnin's company was the only reprieve he had from the drudgery, which he was certain he was not used to, what ever iot was he had done wherever he had been before he lost his memory. And then there were the dead ends of his own thoughts. On one hand there were the dreams of Imrazor and Mithrellas. On the other was his failed memory. His throat caught whenever he thougth of Mithrellas; there was a connection between his dream and his past, and he could not piece it together. Why can't I remember anything before I showed up here? It was exasperating. Which is a word nobody around here uses. That was another thing. He had many words in his head that Mellonin and the others simply did not comprehend, always taking them at the face value meaning, which led to all kinds of strange misunderstandings. What's a sponge? He laughed to himself as he rubbed the same spot on the floor for what seemed the hundredth time. At last it was time for lunch, and the guests had been served. Raefindan knew to wait for his lunch until after Mellonin had served all the guests. They sat at table eating what was left of the mid day cold roast and brown bread. "You spoke of Amroth as restless and searching, of Nimrodel as despairing, and of Mellondu as confused." Raefindan paused to drink some water. "Imrazor's dreams are filled with wonder at having to wife an elf as beautiful as Mithrellas, who bears him children that take after her in beauty; but every dream ends in loss, for she has left him, and he is heartbroken. It is as if she has died, for she might as well have, since she wants nothing so much as the sea and her friend, Nimrodel. For me, Mellonin, it is like having something I was supposed to have had, and was denied. I do not know how that is. What I can tell you is that the loss in the end is bittersweet either way, for there is some recompense in the dreams, with Imrazor's children, and in my past, I think, in some way I cannot remember." "Reckon pence? What is that? It sounds like counting money." Raefindan shook his head. "I am sorry. I mean to say that it is like receiving payment for having suffered." "Have you suffered, then, Raefindan?" Melonnin's tone was soft. "So it would seem, though in what way I cannot say. If I could only gain my memory back!" "Maybe a way will be found in the dreams." "One can only hope." "Did you ever recall who Jorje was?" Raefindan laughed. "You remember that. By George, I think you've got it! No, I don't remember who George was. But I don't think it was important. It would be like saying, By the sword of the King! or something like that." "Maybe this Jorje is the king where you come from." "Why not?" Raefindan laughed again. Mellonin eyed him over her plate of food, wondering just how sane this young man was.