Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[alaklondewen]

Each of the elves took a turn slowly shoveling the soft earth over the snow dusted coffin. It had been many years since they had seen this sort of personal death. There had tended the corpses of orcs, which oddly enough had been on the day this strange adventure had started, but this was a single young mortal who it seemed touched those who knew her. It was interesting, Taitheneb reflected, how her death even touched those who did not know her.

Yes, I suppose... Erebemlin chose his words carefully. All death would touch those who must face it after such short lives.

Taitheneb nodded and placed another heap of dirt atop the grave. Do you pity them?

Erebemlin was taken aback by the question, and he leaned on his shovel, raising his eyes to meet those of his inquisitive companion. I pity their lack... of appreciation...for the beauty of the earth around them, but... Again he paused in contemplation. No, I would think that with their short lives they would treasure it all the more.

Maybe, was Taitheneb’s only reply. Maybe.

The elves continued their duty as their breath steamed the air before them and the snow fell lightly.

[littlemanpoet]

Once the Elves had finished the burial, Marigold served the party a luncheon of rabbit stew thick with potatos and beans. Then they prepared their horses and packed their belongings, ready to cover some miles before sunset, though it had not been seen all the day..

Finally they were all mounted on their horses. The snow had ceased. Marigold came out last from her cottage; she was again of fair form. Erebemlin watched her for long moments, and finally pulled his gaze away.

"Farewell, friends! Fear no evil.
May oath end in blessed deed.
May loyal friends find love once lost.
May grief foreswear numbing despair
and cleave to wisdom borne of sorrow.
May you become one in wit and will.
Farewell, friends! May the road return you!"

She waved and as she did so, the clouds broke and the sun shone brightly on the snow, a glittering sheet of crystal. Erebemlin shouted the command and the horses were soon in a canter moving south.

[mark12_30]

On his right, Echo cantered steadily. The horse lacked the resolve Nethwador was used to seeing in him; his ears flicked, his eyes wandered. But he followed Erebemlin's mount, with an occasional glance at Nethwador's lanky chestnut. Mellonin now rode with Mellondu, and Echo proved worthy for the task this afternoon at least. It remained to be seen whether a longer journey would tire him. Mellonin clung to her brother's back, sometimes burying her face in his cloak. Her riding skills were minimal. She was surprised by Mellondu's easy seat. However she might slip or slide, Mellondu firmly anchored her to Echo's back.

Mellondu knew, however, that while he sat well enough, he had little idea how to guide the horse. Amroth had always done so. And by now, Echo was little used to rein or heel. He would ask Ædegard, he decided; the fellow was kind enough.

To Nethwador's left, Bella rode easily. He smiled at her often. Sometimes she smiled back; once she winked at him. His heart bounded, and he winked back. She blushed.

If ony they could have remained with Marigold; to have a mother and a wife, both... he sighed. And then he shook himself. Wife? Bella was not his wife yet. What would he need to do, to gain her as his wife? With the Wayfarers, there had been rules; the Rohirrim had different rules, and the Gondorians had other rules still. Which rules would she expect him to abide by?

And even if he metthe demands, would she accept him then? What of her own heart? Time enough to think of that later. He missed Amroth's presence. But Taitheneb was kind, and had helped him in the past. Perhaps he would help Nethwador again.

For now he enjoyed the snowy ride, away from the Merlocks, the swamp, and dear Marigold. He looked ahead to the rolling hills of Gondor, now sparkling white, and wondered what the next day would bring.