Friends Of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams, Part 2 RPG

[littlemanpoet]

Tharonwë

How amusing, thought Tharonwë, and childish.

"Of course she will like you," he said gently. He had, of course, no way of knowing that his efforts at gentleness were perceived by honest folk as contrived.

He sifted through her mind again, and again came up against that nagging opacity. What was it? It was like nothing he had ever found before, no matter how complex the mind. And in the relatively simple mind of a child!

He took the girl in hand and started off in the general direction of Nimrodel and Mithrellas, and thought about that place in the child's mind, and what could possibly be the cause. Could the girl be a reincarnated Elf? Surely not, she was obviously human; a pity. Had some Elf or Wizard, or even a Maia hidden in secret somewhere in Gondor, worked his or her art upon this child? Whatever for? Surely there would be more valuable subjects for such craft. Tharonwë absently met the child's needs as she spoke them, always moving south and up; so consumed was he with this strange phenomenon in the child's mind that he forgot about everything else.

Ædegard

Ædegard sat up suddenly, having been wakened by a rather piercing bird call. He was about to lie back down and go back to sleep for a few more winks, but the panic in Raefindan's voice thoroughly roused him: Indil was gone and they did not know where. It was this news that brought his dream of the night back to Ædegard's memory.

"Raefindan," he said urgently, "I had a dream of Indil. It was Tharonwë that took her."

"We must search for her!" cried Raefindan, moving about in a panic.

Within a few minutes they had broken camp and had spread out through the deep woods, within sight and calling distance of each other.

Ædegard had not told them all of his dream. He had dreamt that it had been he who found Tharonwë, holding the girl against her will. He had dreamed that the Elf had taken a knife and cut off the girl's ear. Consumed with rage, Ædegard had drawn his sword and attacked. Tharonwë had flung the girl to the side like a broken doll, whisked his sword from its sheathe, and beckoned him to the attack scornfully. He had attacked, but his feet refused to obey him and would not let him move faster than a dragging walk. He had been forced to parry blow after blow, watching the cold eyes of the wicked Elf, waiting for the death blow. The Elf struck him at the neck.

He had wakened in the middle of the night at that moment, and found that he had rolled onto a root which had given him kink in the neck. He shuddered from the memory of his dream, rolled over, and had gone back to sleep.

That did not mean that the dream would not come true. He was eager to meet up with Tharonwë and take vengeance upon him for what he had done to Leafa, and what his slaves had done to him. And his feet would not drag as in his dreams. He would show the Elf.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

As she traveled with Thoronwe, her hand tucked nervously into his, Indil became less vibrant, more quiet. At times he carried her more with efficiency than gentleness, and at times he let her walk, though the slower pace her child's legs provided irritated him. So intent was he upon the contents of Indil's mind, that Thoronwe failed to notice when her chatter slowed to nothing. Indeed, when she cut her foot upon a sharp stone, it was her mind's registry of the incident that alerted him to the bleeding rather than any physical reaction of hers.

For a brief time they stopped. Thoronwe cleaned and bound the wound, meeting Indil's eyes. Brown. Bright, though the sparkle in them was fading.

You will sleep.

She was less trouble to bring when she slept; Thoronwe had taken to encouraging her mind to slumber as often as seemed prudent. Indil yawned, already sleepy, and her eyes closed. Thoronwe probed her unconscious thoughts gently, admiring the intricacy of the child's awareness. Men, he sneered, so unaware of the contents of their own insides.

He gently sent her sleep to deeper levels, watching her dreams with fascination.

Raefindan holds her hand and helps her over slippery rocks. The one beneath her shifts at her weight and she falls, but he catches her.

She laughs and he meets her eyes and his face turns white. "Angela..."

Thoronwe was startled. Indil's dreams deepened, casting farther and wider through broken moments.

"Look at her beautiful face, my love. Look at the light in her eyes. She will be named Eledhwen."

A flash of lightening cuts the sky and the ocean is thrashing violently against cliffs. The echoes of a scream from far away attack the water. The swimming man persists.

Aeron bounces a stone over a still pond. Indil watches hers sink beneath the surface and cries. He teaches her like he taught Gwyllion, pressing the stone into her palm. "Throw fast." he says. "Like this."

A little girl is under water, being held fast. Her eyes are filled with terror. Men dive for her, are forced back, and dive again. Indil throws stones as they fight the cold water. One cuts through Ædegard's ear. Indil cries as he cries out in pain and he begins to choke, sinking slowly.

Thunder echoes in the mountains. A woman weeps under the shadow of an outcropping.

"He will never come. He has forsaken me. Death and despair take us... all must die in the end."

[littlemanpoet]

The pieces of the puzzle were infuriating in their refusal to congeal into a web of connection.

Angela. What kind of name was that? It had no relation to any known speech Tharonwë had ever heard; not Quenya or Sindarin, not any of the Northern speeches of Men; certainly not the Black speech; nor anything from the South or East.

Eledhwen. The name was readily familiar. It was Sindarin for Star-Maiden. Perhaps the girl had overheard lovers speaking together. Over a child, an infant. Did the words refer to this girl? It was a reasonble conclusion.

Storm on the waters. Swimming man. It must be Amroth, curse him.

Throwing stones on the water. Aeron the little thief, and Gwyllion the one the Morlocks had killed. Negligible of import; a mere flitting amongst the threads of association typical of dreams.

Drowning girl, the Elf rehearsed. Indil throwing stones on the water. Indil must be the girl's name form the self-connection to it in her dreams. Ædegard the fool of the Eorlingas cut in the ear? By a stone? Might that happen in days to come? Could this girl dream the future? Perhaps not. The dreams were a jumble.

Except for the last; he knew her. How could he not, weeping for the wrong suitor? She whom he had been driven to win this last millenia. How close was she?

Tharonwë stopped and looked. It was night. The stars were out in their glory. He was high up. He took stock of where he was and where the stars and planets were in order to determine how much time had passed while he had been lost in thought. He was relieved: it had only been all of one day, and into the night. It was time to rest, or he would wear out the child, who was only Human. She was proving useful and might again on the morrow. He laid her down on gathered pine needles and sat with his back against the trunk of another tree, watching and waiting. He let his thought drift to Nimrodel, fearful of her continued rejection, drawn by the insatiable taste of her madness and grief of love, wishing it was he that was its object.

Angela? What kind of name was that?

[Imladris]

Aeron was weary to his bone. The women lost, gone...and Indil in the hands of Tharonwe. He glowered deeply at the thought, and his fingers curled into a fist. He could see it in Ædegard's face too --~~ the shadow of vengeance.

He reached up and touched the lock of his sister's hair. He missed her. Still he missed her. He wondered if the feeling, that need would ever go away.

They travelled far, resting only when horses and men required it.

As had happened so many times before, Aeron found that his companions had faded away and that he was standing in a green meadow dotted with wildflowers.

"Gwyllion?"

His voice echoed beneath the cloudy sky, and a cold wind whispered in his ear. He began to walk, the dew from the meadow soaking his feet. He found her, looking to the west. Her face was pale. "Gwyllion," he said again.

"Aeron, the other women are close. I think they are."

"Bella and Leafa?"

"Yes, those were their names, weren't they? I have such troubles remembering some things now. But they're close, so close. They aren't in any danger, there are no shadows lurking."

"But how do you know?"

"He left them, left them alone, and took that little girl with him. The shadows are around her still, encircling her. I fear for her...I made her something, I wanted to make her something to keep her safe from him, but it's gone now, I don't know what happened to it."

"Where did they go, Gwyll?" Aeron asked.

"Towards her," she whispered.

And he woke, and told Raefindan of what he had dreamed.

[littlemanpoet]

Raefindan trusted Aeron's dreams. More so now even than before. Marigold's deed of giving him some of Gwyllion's hair had been more powerful than he had expected.

But this left Raefindan in a conundrum. In his heart he wanted to save Indil from the tender mercies of Tharonwë. But the safety of the women was also important. Maybe they needed to part ways and meet farther up in the mountains. Or maybe not. He sighed in exasperation.

"Tell Mellondu, Ædegard, Liornung and Ravion about your dream, Aeron. I'll talk to Bergil and Erebemlin. I want to get Indil back from Tharonwë. I'd like it if you, Bergil, and Erebemlin will go with me after Indil, and then the others can find the women. Did you mention Mellonin? Is she with them?"

[Imladris]

"Gwyll did not mention Mellonin," Aeron said. "I am sorry."

He did as Raefindan had told him. There was silence among the others for a few minutes. "Normally, I wouldn't suggest splitting up," said Aeron, "but Gwyllion was quite sure that the women are safe (well, as safe as one can be in the wilds), now that Tharonwë has Indil. Perhaps a few of us, Ædegard, Liornung and Ravion, could go after the women, and the rest after Tharonwë." He looked apologetically at Raefindan, and said, "I don't think it would be wise to have only four of us go after Tharonwë, he is dangerous and I do not think it would be cowardly to bring as many as we can with us."

[littlemanpoet]

"What you say makes sense," Raefindan said.

Together they moved back toward the others, and laboriously closed the distance between each searcher until they had joined into one group, taking much longer than Raefindan cared for. As Roy Edwards he would have called it a good hour wasted.

Raefindan explained Aeron's dream to the others, and his thought to split up, using Aeron's suggestion.

"What of my sister?" Mellondu asked, his brow furrowing.

"I'm sorry, Mellondu, but Gwyll said nothing about her."

"It is time to resume the quest of Amroth," Erebemlin said. "Tharonwë, fool that he is, leads us to her, and we must not lose his trail. Time is against us."

Ravion spoke up. "I'm going to find Mellonin."

Mellondu took an aggressive step toward him. "What gives you the right?"

Erebemlin stepped between them and looked down at Mellondu. "You have a doom on you with Amroth, he does not. Be grateful that he offers to find your sister in your stead."

Mellondu scowled but subsided.

"I'll go with Ravion," said Liornung.

"As will I," Ædegard added.

"Then the rest of us," Raefindan said, "will go after Tharonwë. And Ravion can track us and rejoin us. Is there any objection?"

[Firefoot]

Rugh had been squatting for quite some time just outside the clearing surrounding the cottage, still as a statue. After a time, the dog had laid down and dozed off. The hours passed, the sun going from high noon onto evening, but still the woman had not emerged from her cottage. Rugh could wait; time as the Tall Men marked it meant little to him.

Then abruptly he stood. The signs were there, for those who could read them: reactions from the birds and insects were the most visible, but it was deeper than that, and Rugh knew as clearly as if the mountains had shouted out to him that there were people nearby: Tall Men. The dog scarcely missed a beat, following as Rugh set off in an easterly direction. After several minutes he came to a mountain ridge where he stopped. Some distance away there stood two women, and beyond them three men, two dark and one fair. It was as if they brought with them some dim resonance, and while they were not the one causing the strange rumors of the earth, they somehow seemed associated with them. The intensity of Rugh's gaze deepened. They were not welcome here in his Mountains, heralds of trouble as they were. The two and the three greeted each other strangely, holding each other then gesturing about as they spoke briefly. It was clear that the cottage was the subject.

One of the men glanced uneasily over his shoulder at one point, seeming to feel Rugh's ruthless gaze but, of course, seeing nothing. Probably assumed it was nothing, Rugh thought in contempt. The Tall Men only paid heed to their senses when hit over the head with them.

As the group turned and headed for the hut of the cruel Tall Woman, the wind shifted, bringing the scent of the intruders to the nose of the dog by his side, who hitherto had only watched Rugh with mild interest. Immediately the dog's ears perked and with a loud Arooo he set off toward the group without even a look back at Rugh. A shadow seemed to pass over Rugh's face; so this dog had not been completely wild, even recognized these Men. Bad dog not see Tall Men bad.

[mark12_30]

"Raefindan."

THe red-haired man was startled out of deep thoughts. "Eh? What's that?"

Mellondu almost regretted saying anything, but not quite. "Raefindan?"

"Yes?"

Now what do I say? he thought. "I was just wondering. Well, I -- "

Raefindan waited.

"How are you?" the blacksmith said, beginning to withdraw, but watching the red-haired man's face.

Raefindan's eyebrows went up. "How am I?"

"Well, yes. How are you? Lately." He looked away; but then in another moment, he looked back. And waited.

[littlemanpoet]

Roy stared at the others standing at the edge of the cliff. He sat on an outcropping of rock, oblivious to the approaching storm. They were not saying the dreadful words - You killed him! It did not matter. He had lost his mind somehow, and Aeron was dead; by his own hands. He had liked Aeron. And now he had killed him.

It had not been as if he had lost control of his members and had been watching himself do things over which he had no control. If it had been so, then he would have still been in control of his own mind. No, he had lost control of that, too. While they were wrestling everything had been a blur of rage and war and the will to win and throw him over the edge. Then suddenly it was done and he had regained control. Not as if he had fought for control, but as if a lever had been taken from him and simply given back.

He could feel Mellondu staring at him with those accusing eyes. Murderer! they declared. Who's side are you on? they asked. Roy looked away but could feel the weight of those eyes watching his every move, so heavy they bound him to the spot where he sat.

"Raefindan!" Bergil demanded. "Why?"

Roy shook his head. "I do not know." No, that was not entirely true. "Indil! I feared that she might be shot by accident and went to stop him from shooting the arrows, but then-" he could not finish, for he could not possibly explain, nor describe what had happened. They had seen it. That was enough.

"You tried to save Indil by trying to kill Mellondu?" Bergil questioned.

Roy sat there, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He raised his hands, killing hands, palms up, to look at them. There was no blood but they felt stained and he wiped them against his trousers; he could not make them feel clean and kept wiping them.

"Indil was my last thought. Then I was not thinking. I do not know why."

Erebemlin's sad eyes studied him. Roy looked away. "I must search your mind, Raefindan."

Roy looked up, suddenly eager. Maybe the Elf could figure out what had happened to him. "Yes! Please!"

Erebemlin tilted his head in doubt. "Maybe I need not. An innocent would be this willing."

"Innocent!" cried Mellondu. "Aeron is dead! He tried to kill me! How can you say innocent!"

Roy hung his head, his eyes stinging. How indeed? Breathing seemed suddenly very hard. The wind began to blow in from the north. The temperature was dropping.

"Search his mind, Erebemlin," said Bergil.

"Very well."

Roy sensed the Elf's concentration, he knew not how. He felt nothing else.

Moments later, the Elf spoke. "I do not know why he let me. He has been turncoat since he was with the Swamp Elf, weeks ago." Roy's head went up in shock.

"He hoped," Erebemlin continued, "that his seeming eagerness for the osanwë would trick me into thinking it was unnecessary. He will kill again."

"Look at him," Mellondu sneered derisively. "He is surprised to be so easily found out."

Roy shook his head, speechless. How could Erebemlin have it so wrong? He did not seem to be trying to mislead. The sorrow was written too plainly on his countenance: the Elf believed what he was saying. Am I really a killer then? Do I really want Tharonwë to win out? Do I, deep down in my heart of hearts, want evil instead of good? Everything in him shouted NO! but Aeron lay dead at the bottom of the valley and it had been his own hands that had killed him, and Erebemlin had seen his mind. Maybe he did not know his own mind.

The first flakes of snow flew in on a heightening wind. It was getting colder.

"He must leave us," Bergil said.

[littlemanpoet]

Ædegard shoved at the door with all his weight to push back the snow outside. It came open enough finally to sidle through, and he looked out. He blinked from the brightness and with a smile remembered the snowball fight with Mellondu back at Edoras. Had that been only a month ago?

He struggled out and looked south. Clouds hid the mountain as high as the eye could see. That was not good. The snow storm was still blowing up there, and it looked like it was probably worse higher. A blizzard. His thought went to Mellondu, Raefindan, Aeron, Erebemlin, and little Indil. Were they safe? They might be buried up there! We have to go find them! he said to himself.

His heart sank. Today was the day Bella, Nethwador, Leafa and he were to set out for Rohan. Maybe Liornung and Ravion could go find them. He couldn't help remembering Bethberry's words. Be his friend. STay by his side. He will need you. He hung his head in shame. He had abandoned Mellondu and the others. Even now it might be too late. Buit it might not! His head came up and fire leapt into his eyes. He rushed back into the hut.

"Ravion! Everyone! There's a blizzard on the mountain! We must save our friends!"

[littlemanpoet]

The minds of the Men following him broke through the allure of the girl's intriguing mind. They were focused on him, hunting. Those still on the hunt were the redhead from the future, the blasted Elf, Amroth's host, the Gondorian Ranger, and the irritating young thief. The redhead was hot with rage at him for having taken the girl, Indil. The Gondorian Ranger was less moved by emotion, but just as determined. The thief was imprisoned in his own mind by his grief for his sister, but it made him come with them on the hunt. The dratted Elf was of a single mind, determined to overthrow Tharonwë and the madness he had imposed upon his lord's love. And his lord seemed to lie asleep in the breast of the human blacksmith whose mind was preoccupied with unreasoning hatred for the ranger who loved his sister.

Ah what a mortal mess these were, except for the Elf. Elves. It was high time to do away with the beleaguerment of Amroth within the blacksmith. Tharonwë gave thought to how he could bring about the death of the blacksmith.

[Imladris]

He was in the meadow again. Green fields stretched in front of him, behind him, to his left, to his right. Stars pricked the northern sky, bright like the jewels that studded the fingers of nobles; a yellow sun rose crowned in orange and scarlet to the west. Twilight before him, twilight behind him.

And there, right before his eyes, was Gwyllion, a wreath of wilted daisies in her hair, a smile on her lips. "Gwyll!" he said, taking her small hand in his.

"Aeron, brother."

The smile faded, her eyes dimmed as she looked at him. "Something is wrong," she said. "There is a black snake in your eyes, curled and waiting. Whispering. Aeron, what has happened?"

"You know, Gwyllion. You told me, the elf, he took the girl. He might kill her as he killed you. I mustn't, no I can't, let that happen again."

Gwyllion frowned. "Don't listen to the whispers that come from the dark. You should focus on finding the little girl, saving her from the shadows, rescuing her from him."

"And I will, Gwyllion, I promise. When have I ever lied to you, little Gwyll?"

She laughed but it wasn't the same as it had been before. It was briefer, heavier, paler. "Gwyllion, is everything alright?"

"I found something as I wandered," she said. "I was walking under a fading rainbow, murmuring a song half forgotten, and I heard a whisper --~~ fragile, half formed, like old crystal. I looked and I had wandered from my meadow and there were jagged rocks around me and a mountain stream washed over my feet. The water was so clear, like a mirror. And then I saw her in the reflection. She looked as if she might be tall, but she was kneeling amongst the sharp rocks, cradling Mellonin's head in her lap. I remember her robe was torn, and blood on her knees. She was whispering to Mellonin and I heard her say that she couldn't find it, that she had searched in vain, that all had changed. I was very sorry for her, but I couldn't help her, she was just a reflection in the water. And when I looked again I only saw myself staring at me."

"You don't know her name? Or who she is? Is she Nimrodel or Mithrellas?"

Gwyllion shook her head as she turned away from Aeron to face the dark northern sky. "I see things, Aeron. I see things all the time. I see you in pain, and I can do nothing. I see Mellonin --~~ or perhaps it is the other woman, I cannot see for there is a mist before me --~~ in torment, and I cannot ease her suffering. I see an old woman with strange fires in her eyes, and I can only watch and think half-formed thoughts."

Aeron said nothing, but wrapped his sister in his arms and kissed her on the forehead.

And when he woke, he found out Raefindan and said, "I saw Gwyllion again."