Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[littlemanpoet]

"Your unkind words to him, your behavior towards him... It hurt him as much as a blow, and he saw naught to do but return it."

Leafa's gentle hand did what could be done for his eye. Her sorrow over the fight touched him. But not even she understood. Could she, could they, not see that the Easterling boy was the one who had shed blood? that he had only tried to stop him? But she said that his behavior toward the boy had forced the boy to hit him? It made no sense. What place did such thinking come from? A man, even a boy, was answerable for his own deeds. That was the way of it.

"I do not understand you," he said to Leafa. "It is as if you think that my words balled his fists and made them find my eye. Was it not his own will? He chose to fight because it was in him to fight. I did not breed the fight into him, his own kind did that. Do you not see?"

[littlemanpoet]

"Why isn't she waking up?" asked Aeron.

"I don'- I do not know," Raefindan said, "but the elf said that she and Mellonin are more useful to him alive. Maybe that is still so. And maybe the drug he has used on her has not yet worn off."

"Drug? You think he dragged her all this way?" Aeron's already furrowed brow deepened, and he went to Gwyllion and examined her more carefully. Looking up he said, "She has not been dragged, at least."

Raefindan smiled. "I meant that the elf's means of causing her to sleep has not yet worn off."

Aeron screwed his brow. "What has that to do with dragging?"

"Not a thing. Not a thing."

Ravion spoke up. "Maybe we shall have Mellonin back after another day!"

"Maybe," Raefindan said, scratching Jorje's ear - for the dog had woken up and scratched himself there - "so let us break our fast and be off soon thereafter!"

"Aye!" Aeron yelled, "Arrow or no arrow from that nasty elf!"

"Erundil," Raefindan said to the other ranger, who was just sitting up, "how do you fare?"

[mark12_30]

Nethwador was irked to see Argeleafa tending Ædegard; Ædegard didn't deserve Argeleafa's attention because he made her cry. But the words from Bella, and her sweet voice, drew his attention away from them, and he listened, gazing into her eyes, trembling a little.

Taitheneb stood among them, startling Bella a little; elves moved so quietly. Nethwador turned to him and stared.

Taitheneb gazed back at him, then spoke. "Lady Bella, Nethwador's anger is for Argeleafa's tears. He must defend her, for she defended him, and was gentle to him. They are wanderers together, and he will protect her against the strangers."

Bella's eyes went wide.

Nethwador nodded. "Nethwador mellon Bella; Nethwador mellon Argeleafa; Nethwador mellon Amroth..." Suddenly Nethwador turned, glanced at Taitheneb, and ran towards Amroth. Taitheneb followed him, and Bella watched them go.

"Amroth? Amroth, " said Nethwador, kneeling beside him.

The sparkling gaze that Amroth turned to Nethwador was humorous, easygoing, that of a normal man. Amroth chuckled, weary, but awake.

"Nethwador. He called you Mellon, did he not? So my friends named me. You may call me Mellon if you like."

Nethwador stared and stared at Amroth, and fear kindled in his eyes. "Amroth?" He turned to Erebemlin, wide-eyed.

Erebemlin nodded. "He is still here, I hope. But it is as if he sleeps, Nethwador. I do not think we can reach him now. I have tried."

"If I may, I would like to rest, " said the blacksmith. "My head hurts. Nay, it aches. And my body is weary. Perhaps I have a fever?"

Erebemlin nodded, weary in heart as the blacksmith was weary in body. "You have had the fever for many days, " he said.

[littlemanpoet]

Ædegard wondered at Bellyn and Leafa, who seemed to hold him responsible for the Easterling's attack against himself! Bellyn spoke to the boy as to a dear friend. Ædegard winced at the wrongness of it. Leafa wept for the boy rather than for him. His heart sank and his gut turned. How was it that these two could act so?

Leafa he could understand, forced to live among Easterlings, having gotten used to them. There was time to help her see the truth. Bellyn was not his affair, but he still wondered how she could behave so. Maybe it was that in Minas Tirith, under the new king, the influence of Elves brought new ways, for all knew that the new king had had much to do with Elves. Ædegard held no ill feeling toward Elves, but their ways were not human ways, and he did not think it was good that humans should take Elvish ways to themselves. It was not natural.

He watched the Easterling boy as Leafa quietly worked on the cut at his eye. He was going to Amroth, shouting Elvish. Now there was an oddity! But Amroth was looking back at the boy in a strange way. A familiar way. Ædegard couldn't place it, but it stirred something in him, made him think of Edoras and a snowball fight.

"Hold a moment, Leafa, I wish to speak to Amroth."

"Hold this healing leaf over your eye, Ædegard," she said.

He smiled. "You are a healing leaf."

She blushed and gave him a quick smile, but the sorrow in her eyes did not dim. Her face succumbed to it again as she walked with him to Amroth and the Elves.

[Nurumaiel]

A few feet from Amroth, Argeleafa stopped Ædegard and beckoned him to lower his head so she might whisper in his ear. 'I have reflected upon what you said,' said she, 'and I do know that it was Nethwador's own will to strike you. Yet you chose to hurt him with words. There was choice on either side, and I think both chose wrong. I am more disappointed in you, however, for...' Her voice slowly dropped away, a look of confusion came to her face, and her eyes speedily travelled the ground as she sought for a reason. '...for you were the first to choose ill.' She just barely saw the look of disappointment in his own eyes, for she had looked to the ground again.

She did not have the courage to tell him her real reasoning for feeling more disappointed with him. It was too difficult a thing to say. How could she say that she loved him so well that it hurt her terribly to see him behave so? How could she say that she thought him the noblest and kindest man in all of Rohan, and in lands beyond, that when she saw him behave in a way that was not noble and kind it stung her like a blow to her face? She did not have the courage to say this.

Her eyes went up to meet his again, and her pale little face was filled with great weariness, for his still held the same expression... an expression of disappointment, as if he could not understand her. Oh, sorrow of sorrows if he should not love her anymore, for some reason that she did not know. Why did he express such anger towards Nethwador, and such disappointment when she pitied the poor boy? And when she pitied Nethwador, or spoke in friendly terms of the band of Wayfarers, he looked at her in an odd manner, as if she had done something wrong. She could not understand this.

'I am sorry,' she said softly, 'I have disappointed you in some manner. I did not mean to cause you any pain or grief.' She did not allow him to speak, but began to move forward again, saying, 'Let us go to Amroth now so you might speak with him.'

[littlemanpoet]

"You were the first to choose ill." Leafa believed this, it was clear. But even the way she spoke it was so much like Leafa that he could let it pass. Yes, it would be a great trouble to help her, make her see things the Rohirric way, but he was willing to take on that burden for love of her. There was such sorrow in her eyes! It wrung his heart.

"I am sorry," she said softly, "I have disappointed you in some manner. I did not mean to cause you any pain or grief." He opened his mouth to reply, but she moved away. "Let us go to Amroth now so you might speak with him."

Ædegard shrugged. She did not want to speak any more of it, for now. That suited him. He rubbed carefully at his eye and went to Amroth and the Elves, following Leafa. He looked at Amroth's face.

"Hullo, Ædegard." Amroth's face was leached by weariness, but his eyes were full of good will and a pleasant humor. And he sounded nothing like Amroth. Mellon had returned!

"Mellon! You are back!" Ædegard found himself on his knees before his friend, peering into his now widened eyes. "Where have you been!"

"Whoa, friend! I know not. But it is good to see you again."

"Give him room, Ædegard," said Erebemlin, "he is feverish and needs to rest."

"Aye, no doubt of it!" He rose to his feet and reached for Leafa. She took his hand and came to him. "Mellon, meet my betrothed, Argeleafa! Leafa, this is Mellon."

[alaklondewen]

Erebemlin was weary…his heart, his mind. The return of the blacksmith was almost too much. The young man lay in the grass near his feet, and the elf watched him closely, watching and hoping for some sign of his king.

"Mellon! You are back! Where have you been!"

Erebemlin raised his eyebrow as the young Ædegard fell to his knees before the blacksmith. The young man had not fallen before the king in such respect. Why would he do so for this man that covered Amroth’s mind?

"Give him room, Ædegard," Erebemlin spoke firmly. "He is feverish and needs to rest."

Ædegard rose and stepped back, but instead of taking his leave as Erebemlin wished, the man took hold of the young Rohirric woman and began to introduce her. The elf pushed himself up quickly from the ground and stepped between the couple and the blacksmith. Erebemlin towered over the man as he narrow his eyes and flared his nostrils. The man, Mellon, began to speak, but the elf interrupted glaring at Ædegard. “He needs rest. There will be time for such things later.” Erebemlin growled, “Go now, both of you, and let him sleep.”