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Old 06-08-2007, 02:56 PM   #61
Feanor of the Peredhil
La Belle Dame sans Merci
 
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Feanor of the Peredhil is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.Feanor of the Peredhil is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.Feanor of the Peredhil is a guest of Elrond in Rivendell.
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Indil had spent much of the journey chattering away happily to Raefindan and watching the Elves. She giggled when he told her stories and pointed wild animals out to her as they traveled, and the time she did not spend shadowing Bergil was spent in his company. Between the group, she was kept as reasonably clean as travel and camping allowed, and her curiosity was often satisfied when she would slip her hand into one much larger and calloused and ask politely about many things. Very rarely was she told to hush, though Bergil noted that the Elf, Erebemlin, looked at her with eyes that regarded her youth as both something to be cherished and something to be patiently endured. He noticed that Indil never spoke to Erebemlin and fell silent at his glances. Whether this was intended or not, it was clear that Indil, who was naturally social and curious, was shy toward him.

And her dreams were yet another thing. Though the company was comprised of experienced travelers, Indil was only a small child, and slept often on the road, safely held in the saddle with either Bergil or Raefindan, always with Bergil's protective eye on her. Though she was quick to smile and solemnly well-behaved, she often woke crying and shaking, at times with choked screams. If asked, she remembered nothing, or very little. Bergil did not doubt her honesty on this; he had never once found any trace of lie in the little girl's features. She required constant reassurance and spoke often of her parents, but never anything from which Bergil or the others could glean any trace of the whereabouts of 'home' or living relatives.

Now, in the city, she sat huddled in Raefindan's lap, shaking. The sudden halt of their company had stirred her from quiet sleep and tears streamed down her cheeks, though she made no noise.

"There, little Indil," Raefindan said, smoothing loose feathers of hair away from her eyes, looking for now away from Bergil and the city guard. He gently rubbed away a tear with a careful finger. "Can you tell me what you dreamt?"

She nodded, a bare movement, trembling harder than before.

"What did you see, Indil? Were there people in your dream?"

The past few days had taught him which questions to ask to see what plagued her sleep. Though she rarely knew, there were times, and he had learned how best to inquire.

"There was a woman."

"Did you know her?"

"You did."

"I did?" He offered her a sip of water.

"Yes. And Mellondu. Mellondu knew her."

"You dreamt of Mellondu? What was he doing?"

"There were mountains. And birds singing. And she said the name you told me before. She called you Red of Edward, and Mellondu came, but he did not play with me any more, and he did not look at me and said something, and the woman was crying."

Mellondu leaned closer, listening, though he did not speak. Raefindan felt Indil's body soften as she calmed and he asked her if she remembered what Mellondu had said. She looked at Mellondu and shook her head slowly.
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