Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[mark12_30]

Mellonin cast a startled glance at Aeron, and considered his request. Tell me about your brother. She shifted to face him, rearranged her cloak around herself, and then said, “All right.” She sat in silence deciding what to tell.

Raefindan and Ravion were practicing archery at Ravion’s insistence.

“Don’t aim; just think about your release.”

“But it’s dark. What if I lose an arrow?”

“If you lose an arrow at this range you have worse problems. “

Mellonin smiled, and returned her attention to Aeron. “My brother… Well, you know he is a blacksmith. He does beautiful work, very detailed sometimes. He likes the details, and prides himself on creating beautiful things. He was learning his runes, and he puts them onto whatever he makes—even if he can only fit a few onto it. Whoever asks for the work, gets their initials in the piece. Sometimes he uses the Dwarf-runes and sometimes the Elf-runes.”

She could see by Aeron’s expression that she was boring him.

“He likes to sing old songs. He sings them all day while he works. He has a good voice, and he is fond of singing. Three nights before he disappeared, we were singing the Lay of Nimrodel together. He had worked for three days to memorize it. He was quite pleased with himself.”

“So, is he prideful?”

“Not that kind of pleased: more of a childish delight. Although I do think the romance appealed to him.”

“Romance?”

“Well, it is a love song, “ Mellonin laughed. “Have you never heard it?”

“No. Sing it for me.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Please.”

She smiled, and sang so softly that Raefindan and Ravion could not hear a word of it. Aeron listened, trying not to seem too interested, but he did like the song.

“So he likes old stories.”

“Oh, he is a dreamer. He wishes he could have lived back in Numenor, or Beleriand. He wishes he could have seen the Silmarils. He wishes he could have fought with Elendil and Isildur and Anarion, or gone sailing with Earendil.”

“Really, “ replied Aeron, who thought he recognized some of those names.

“In truth, “ laughed Mellonin, “his longing was to be an elf-friend, like King Elessar. He adores Queen Evenstar, and says that her beauty will be forever unmatched; he said once that even Luthien could not have been as beautiful as the Queen. His favorite story is the story of Tuor, who married Idril and became an immortal.”

“I’ve never seen the Queen, “ said Aeron, and then wished he hadn’t.

“What! Where were you at the feast this year?”

“Um, elsewhere,” he muttered.

“Have you never seen her going out to ride in the countryside, or bring gifts to the poor, or visit the sick?”

“No,” sighed Aeron.

Beside him Gwillion spoke up. “Clever theives avoid royalty."

Aeron pretended she hadn’t said anything.

“So,” said Mellonin, “Tell me about yourself.”

[Imladris]

Aeron listened while Mellonin told of her brother, of his love for runes and learning. He smirked. Pouring over old, weathered scrolls in the dim flickering candle light did not sound appealing.

But the song was lovely -- lilting like a river he thought. Amroth and Nimrodel...he shook his head, pondering the story in his head.

And his love for the queen...she was only an elf...Lady Evenstar...The first star was beginning to peek above the mountains. He studied it, wondering why anyone would be named after an evening star. The star was not beautiful...it was prick of light. No more. Still, how did an elf look? He had heard glowing reports of her beauty and now, despite himself, he was curious. He scowled. Drat Mellonin for bringing the queen up . He had never concerned himself with the queen before and now he wondered if the queen would have helped his family as she travelled about the country side.

"Clever thieves avoid royalty," Gwyllion said.

Aeron smiled at her, but the smile faded and was replaced with a puckered frown. She had not said it in a positive light -- almost as if she had wanted to go to the feast and to see the queen. But they had had such adventurous times together, stealing gems from under merchant's noses, richer than any peasant had ever been. Each jewel had been won with adventurous fervor in the game of cleverness. Gwyllion had always been content with their lot before, but ever since she met that horrid ranger she had been different.

"So tell me about yourself," Mellonin said.

Aeron leaned back and considered. What was there to tell? "My father fought in the War and mother died giving birth to Gwyllion and when she was twelve he went away," Aeron said, a cold smile on his face.

"But he will come back," Gwyllion said, nodding her head.

Aeron rolled his eyes and scowled at her delusions. "I have told you that he is not coming back."

"Yes, he will. He cannot hate his children," Gwyllion insisted. "I think he lost his way," she added. "Or he must have been detained."

"Yes, you are right, Gwyllion," Aeron snapped. "He was detained by a great black monster that festers in his heart and he will come back when we are asleep in the ground."

"Maybe he will conquer that monster and then come back to us," Gwyllion suggested.

Aeron shook his head. Either she was too dense to understand what he meant or she did not want to believe it. They had had this conversaton many times before and arguing about it now would not change her mind. Besides, he had already made her angry today and he did not want to risk a loud argument about the matter. Then Ravion would but in like and try to reason with them about how terrible it was argueing on the road and he would drone on and on about how they must stick together to make this trip as pleasant for Mellonin as possible. He glowered at the girl.

To break the awkward silence that had again settled on the group (broken only by soft instructions of Ravion and the whistle and twang of arrows), Aeron said, "I believe it was idiotic what Amroth did. He drowned himself for a woman -- a mere woman who is probably dead. Why else could she not meet him at the shores? It would have been better if he had enjoyed his immortal life instead of throwing it away."

[mark12_30]

Mellonin raised an eyebrow. "A mere woman." Giving Gwillion a nudge, she repeated "...a mere woman... Aeron, is that what you think of us?"

"Leave my sister out of this, " Aeron hissed.

Mellonin lowered her voice til he could barely hear it. "Indeed I will not. It is well known that the way a man treats his sister is the way he will treat his wife. And you risked your life-- at least, you risked rotting in a jail cell, by urging that we agree to have Gwillion along. You risked your future for your sister; therefore you would risk your future for a woman you loved. So you do not think Amroth was a fool. And that means you are lying to me, Aeron."

Aeron studied her in the firelight. She did not look angry. She acted as if she was merely stating a fact. Was she angry?

Why did he care?

[Imladris]

Aeron spat into the fire, listening with some degree of satisfaction to it hiss and splutter to its dissipating doom. Turning, he studied Mellonin and Gwyllion, watched the shadows dance across the cheeks. He had expected her to be angry, but the wrath he had expected had not come. She was stating a fact: that was all.

Gwyllion and Mellonin were mere women (that Gwyllion could be considered a woman Aeron doubted, but the point remained the same), just like he was a mere boy. "Why throw your life away for a woman if she be already dead?" he countered. "It is is silly to languish after a lost lover. It is deluding yourself into a false world that simply does not exist. What dead is dead." He shrugged his shoulders. "We all die, though elves have to be killed to do so. Why not face that fact with bravery instead of plunging yourself into the watery depths to drown yourself? It would not bring her back and he was a fool to believe that his death could bring her back. If he wanted to swim back to shore to make sure she was dead (the song seemed to think she was), then that was stupid diving in so far from shore. And it is silly to kill yourself to join a dead lover. There is a whole world out there to be explored and to be enjoyed," he said, gesturing with his arms. "As for saying that I did virtually the same thing with Gwyllion, in that you are mistaken," he added with a smug smile. "Gwyllion was alive when Nimrodel was not."

[Orual]

Ravion squinted at where he thought Raefindan's arrow had landed. He winced when he caught sight of the white feathers, and closed his eyes. Raefindan glanced at the Ranger worriedly.

"That bad?" Raefindan asked, sounding miserable.

"No, not that bad," Ravion said politically, "but let us simply say that in a battle, you would have either hit the enemy--" Raefindan brightened, "--or me."

The red-haired man's face fell, and he sighed. "I'm trying," he said. Off of Ravion's glance, he stammered, "Am...trying."

"It takes practice, and I am a fairly wretched teacher," Ravion said wearily. He went and retrieved the arrow, giving it back to Raefindan.

The stars were just beginning to come out, and Ravion tilted his head back to look at them. It was a lovely night. Why, then, did he feel so wretched?

Perhaps he had been too rough with Aeron. Maybe the girl was disturbed, and Aeron could not do anything about it. It was entirely possible. But what, then, was to be done about it? He truly could not allow Gwyllion to continue acting like this. If only there was something he could do about Gwyllion.

He glanced over his shoulder, and saw the rest of his party. It was odd to think of it as "his" party, but that was what he had been calling them in his head. Raefindan, Mellonin, Aeron, and Gwyllion...and him. The Company. The Fellowship, even. And if it was his company, he was responsible. Right?

"Ravion?" The Ranger heard Raefindan's voice and turned. "How was that?"

Ravion turned and looked at the tree where he had affixed the mark that Raefindan was to hit. The arrow was about three inches above it.

"Much better," he said quietly. "Great."

[Orual]

This was definitely not the way it was supposed to happen.

Suddenly everyone was riding away. He still did not have any information. This was most certainly not the way he had planned it.

"There is no cause for concern, and naught of our business should become yours, lest you be caught up in a chase as we are."

Caught up in a chase. Erundil whistled and his bay cantered upto him. The Ranger swung on, then started off to catch up to the blacksmith's friends.

[mark12_30]

Raefindan, Mellonin, and Ravion planned watches for the night, despite Aeron's bemusement. The starry night passed peacefully, although Raefindan woke Ravion twice to point out something he thought suspicious. One movement turned out to be a fox hunting field mice. The second turned out to be an owl sitting in a low branch just over a hill.

Raefindan apologised.

"I would rather you wake me seven times too many than once too few, " said Ravion as he lay back down the second time.

Raefindan was glad the darkness hid his crimson face.

Ravion had the last watch and woke everyone before sunrise. He nudged Raefindan first, bidding him hold Jorje while he woke the rest. Breakfast was uneventful, packing was swift and he was content with their progress; at noon, they stopped under an elm tree overlooking the river, loosened Gond's pack harness, let him graze, and sat down for lunch.

Mellonin burrowed into her pack, and took out the pen and ink and parchment, and wrote for a while. Ravion was bemused, Raefindan spoke words of kindness and courage. Aeron and Gwyllion paid her no heed.