Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[alaklondewen]

“My lord, I will aid you with any need you have.” Erebemlin did not understand Amroth’s insistent behavior. Was his word no longer adequate? “Please, come and rest. Taitheneb, bring us food suitable for a weary king.”

Taitheneb nodded and quickly descended the mellorn. His mind was swimming with what he had witnessed. How could that young mortal be the long departed King Amroth? Yet, the Silmaethor believed. Taitheneb landed on the forest floor and comforted the horses that awaited their young masters, before hurrying to gather the provisions Erebemlin wanted.

Meanwhile, Erebemlin turned his attention on the second boy, Amroth’s companion. The Sinda touched the boy’s mind and saw anxiety and fierce loyalty to Amroth. Do not fear. We will not harm you. The young boy relaxed slightly. Tell me your name, young one.

The boy remained silent, but Erebemlin saw his mind form the image of a pig. That is an animal. What is your name?

They call me pig, but he names me, Mellon.

You are a friend. That is well. Erebemlin knelt to look into the boy’s eyes. But you need a real name, Mellon. The Sinda thought for a moment while looking the boy over. You are of a wandering people, are you not? The young boy nodded and shared his family’s fate and his meeting and love for Amroth. “Neth-gwador, I shall call you…young brother. For you are brave and show strong loyalty and love for the King.”

The boy tried to wrap his tongue around the name, "Net-kwad-er."

Erebemlin smiled and touched the boy's shoulder. "Noble effort. Try it this way...Nethwador." The young mortal tried once more and procounced the name beautifully. "Very well, indeed. Now you shall never be known as an animal again."

[mark12_30]

Amroth looked on as Erebemlin turned his attention to Mellon, and resisted the urge to smile. A diversion. Mellon needed the acceptance, and Amroth waited.

So she is not here, he thought. And they have had no tidings of her in a thousand years... madness. He must seek other counsel.

And yet... Erebemlin was no fool, and he did not seem mad; only .... frightened.

"Erebemlin."

The elf seemed afraid to answer. "My lord." Slowly he turned to face Amroth.

"I shall open my mind to you, and you shall see what you will."

"My lord!" Erebemlin stared. "By your leave, no, my lord."

"You do not trust me even for this?"

Erebemlin stared down at the talan. This should have been a joyous reunion, he reflected; a time of song and tale, of tune and dance... his heart felt tied in a knot. "I do trust you, my lord."

"Then what is it you fear?"

Erebemlin's face twisted. "The darkness of your dreams, my lord; the fire, and the shadow. Whence came these, my lord? Whence came your sorrow and your despair? What did this past thousand years cost you? I fear what robbed you will rob me as well. And your strength of will may easily defeat mine."

"Erebemlin, I desire no such thing; I am not here for conquest, or rule or lands or anything else that these lands can give. I am here only for one purpose and that is to find my Nimrodel. Will you aid me? For if not, then I must find someone who will."

"I have told you, my lord, I will aid you in any way I can."

An impasse. Neither would give way, Amroth knew, and they were wasting precious time.

At that moment, Taitheneb and another elf arrived at the foot of the tree. They carried packs of food, the best Taitheneb could procure in haste. Taitheneb whistled a bird-song, Erebemlin whistled back and Taitheneb began to climb the ladder.

When a cloth was spread and the breads and fruits and venison placed on it, Amroth spoke. "Taitheneb, join us, and your companion as well."

"I did not bring food for five--"

"Come, sit." Erebemlin motioned Taitheneb to obey, and soon there were three elves and two mortals seated around the cloth. Amroth turned to Taitheneb. "Tell me, Ellon, what has come to pass in the time since the dwarves awoke the evil in Moria."

[Imladris]

With a sigh, Aeron turned away and meandered back to Gwyllion who straggled along at the end of the group. He saw Raefindan and Mellonin exchange a glance or two, but he did not care. It was that blasted ranger's fault that things got out of control. He should just learn to ignore Gwyllion's quirks like he had learned to. If she threw a fit, calm her down. Do not try to analyze her because that will not help anything. Aeron chuckled softly. He had tried to figure it out for fifteen years. Why did the ranger think he could do better?

Gwyllion trudged along besider him. Her feet dragged along the ground, leaving a broad in her wake. He sighed, and looked at the softly rolling grasslands around them. They were on a small path. Ravion had told them that it would lead them to some forest...what was it? Loth something. Why would a blacksmith go towards a forest? He shrugged. It did not matter. He and Gwyllion were as safe as could be...a good deal safer than in the town.

He looked at Gwyllion and said, "Are you still angry with me."

With turning her head, she said, "Yes."

"It was just a little cut...a mere scratch. It is probably not bleeding anymore." She was growing more sensitive if the blood still bothered her.

"It is not that," she whispered. "Well, it is in a way...but you made me hurt him."

"All you did was throw a pebble at him," he said. What was so wrong with that. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The ranger deserved it, anyway.

"Well, I think it was a bad idea," she snapped.

"You did not have to do it," Aeron countered.

She relapsed into silence. He could feel the barrier begin to grow...could feel it begin to bristle. Aeron frowned. Why was she doing this? He had not done anything...she was the one who had thrown the pebbles...she could have decided not to have done it...he shook his head. Already he had two enemies -- and one was the one he loved most. He shrugged. She would be over it by morning...hopefully. If not, he would win her back by being his likeable, adorable self. He smiled.

His stomach twisted and he called, "Are we going to stop for lunch or just keep marching all blasted day?" It was a hot day and he was hungry. He could feel a pain creep up the back of his neck and spread across his head.

Ravion, without looking at him, said, "No. Too much time was wasted earlier on to take a lunch break. "

Aeron gasped and was about to protest, when he saw the evil glare that Gwyllion shot at him. Well, if they did not want to eat, that was fine by him. They could all starve. Maybe it would serve to fuel a bit of animosity at the ranger.

He sighed, and looked around him. Grasslands stretched to the distance, a few treest dotted the area...not prospect of adventure. Was this how all adventures were? Trudging in the mild lands, waiting for something to jump out of the shadows and eat you? He grimaced. Adventures were boring. There was no way around that.

Ravion did hand out something like cram though, which Aeron thought was rather kind of him. The stuff was very unpleasant though and Aeron spat it out and quitely tossed it by the way side. Let the birds have it. He wondered if he should have just given it back to Ravion, but then he would have to listen to another lecture that day.

Twilight did not come swiftly enough for Aeron, and the boy was beginning to think that it had been detained by some malignant force. Finally, it did come with a rush (to make up for lost time, Aeron suspected) and Ravion ordered camp to be set. Aeron built the fire and collapsed in front of it.

Mellonin sat down beside him and stared into the flames. It was strange. She was just as passive as Gwyllion. Aeron thought she was worried about her brother. What kind of peson was her brother? Raising himself to one elbow, Aeron said, "Tell me about your brother." It felt strange, breaking the silence.

[littlemanpoet]

It looked like a day's hard ride from the Limlight to the distant forest, which Ædegard could see because its trees were so tall. He never did see Amroth and Mellon ahead of him the whole time, but their horses' hoof prints were unmistakable.

It was good to be alone for a change. It was the first time since Liornung and Bellyn had come upon him out of Edoras. To have space on every side, free of word or look or glances that meant the others trusted him to act in certain ways, will he or nill he. His horizon was free of other folk, of other faces, whether grinning like Liornung's usually was, or thoughtful as Bellyn, or fair Argeleafa of the Rohirrim. Or Liornung's songs.

He missed the songs.

He liked being with them. At any rate, Amroth's tracks looked to stay clear for any eyes.

He slowed and waited. His horse did not mind, as he gave him his head and he proceeded to graze.

He did not have to wait long. He waved when he saw them coming. Four of them. He had forgotten about the Ranger, Erundil. His brow furrowed, for he did not trust the man, a stranger. Then again, the three allowed him to ride with them. Maybe he would prove as trustworthy as Liornung and Bellyn. He waved.

"Ædegard!" Liornung cried. "Well met again! I am glad that you have decided to wait for us! Have you any sign of Amroth?"

"None save his trail."

They exchanged what little news they had not yet given between each other, and Ædegard shook hands with Erundil. Then the five pushed on, and Ædegard left Liornung and Bellyn to read the trail. He was happy to ride beside Aregeleafa and Erundil. There was not much talk passing between them, but that did not displease Ædegard.

As the forest grew before them, clear voices called to them.

"Halt! Come no nearer. This realm may not be traveled without leave. Name yourselves!"

[littlemanpoet]

A number of things happened at once. Raefindan dove into the water to rescue the merchant. Mellonin came to Aeron to see how he fared. Gwyllion stared at the merchant, her face white. The merchant's man drew his sword and crossed over to Gwyllion, lifted her to her feet, and held his sword at her neck.

"You and yours have raised a hand against my master. Do so again and this one pays."

Ravion's eyes went hard and his body tensed, his sword aimed at the man at arms. Aeron and Mellonin both turned as if yanked around by a rope, and stared at the man and Gwyllion, who had begun to whimper.

Raefindan pulled the merchant to shore. He was glad the man was skinny. Once he was sure the man was safe on land, stretched on the beach and coughing like a seal barking, he came forward, both hands raised, giving a quick reassuring nod to Ravion as he turned to face the man at arms. He would have to think about seals barking, what they were and where he remembered them from, later, when he had a chance.

"I have helped your master. We do not mean ill to you nor your master. Release the girl."

The man at arms looked questioningly to the merchant.

Raefindan spoke to the merchant. "Sir, please tell your man we mean you no harm. You have had my aid."

Slowly, the merchant considered, and at last, nodded. "Let the girl go. But keep that sword leveled on the boy!"

"Thank you," Raefindan said. He put a hand up to Ravion, who had raised his sword higher at the threat to Aeron.

"Sir, there is something that we would like to explain - ah - um - clear up about Aeron - but only when these swords drop."

The merchant looked from Ravion to Raefindan, glanced at Aeron, then gave an eyebrow raised look at his man at arms who shrugged noncommitally.

"Make him put his sword away first," said the merchant, pointing to Ravion.

"I cannot make him do anything, for he is our leader, but I am sure that he will agree to lower his sword if your man will do the same. Sir?" The merchant nodded. "My thanks. Ravion?"

As they watched, both swords lowered slowly, as if they were attached by elastic somehow, until their points rested near the ground.

"As I was saying, sir, we are this boy's jailers. We are giving him his punishment."

The merchant's brow rose again. "How?"

"Ah, sir, that is a good question. The answer best comes from Ravion, for it was he who arranged it. But before we speak more, might we not procure - ah - um - get - some towels or cloth to dry ourselves, and then perhaps something hot to drink for my good man here and his trusty footman?"

[Orual]

The silence was resounding, and Raefindan's gentlemanly offer fell on deaf ears. Ravion glared at the merchant, who glared back twice as venemously.

"You have taken the thief on as punishment, have you, Ranger?" the merchant jeered, spitting out Ravion's title like poison. "Tell me, how so? Protected by a Ranger, given food, the possibility of adventure...oh, yes, sounds to me like every boy's worst nightmare."

"Believe me when I say that there were things he would more enjoy doing," Ravion said, his voice dry. "Dressing up as a steak and being thrown to Wargs, for starters. The boy has been given no luxuries. He is here as my aide, and he will make himself useful or he will be cast off. I have no room in this company for idlers."

"But you have room for criminals?" the merchant demanded.

"We all have something to atone for," Ravion replied coldly and pointedly. He glanced at Aeron, who was still holding his injured arm. He hoped passionately that the merchant had not dislocated it. That would take too long to heal. He looked over to Raefindan. "More discussion would fall ill on thirsty dispositions. Even more ill than it already has. Perhaps my friend Raefindan is correct--perhaps a drink would not be amiss."

[Orual]

The wayfarer girl smiled at him, a curious smile, open and trusting. No, perhaps trusting was the wrong word. Inviting.

Erundil took a moment. He was not a man prone to smiles. It had been something of a oddity to his brother Rangers, who would laugh and joke around him to lighten the tension during the War. He never joined in their jests. Now, he wondered at this girl smiling while her companions seemed to be so focused and intent in their chase.

He felt a small smile slip onto his face, and coughed, and changed the subject. Perhaps she could tell him something of the blacksmith. "This...companion of yours. Your friends seem worried. Is he a danger to himself?"

The girl frowned a bit. "They say that he is not himself," she said, before they both heard a voice call:

"Halt! Come no nearer. This realm may not be traveled without leave. Name yourselves!"

Erundil kept silent, but groaned inside. Surely he had not let these travelers drag him into danger! Lothlorien? What had he gotten himself into?

[mark12_30]

Mellonin sheathed her dagger, fighting with self-disgust, her neck and cheeks crimson. Not only had she been of no use, but she had clearly failed to fool either of these men as to her identity; they both dismissed her as a woman. What good was she?

Nearby, the cold and dripping Gwyllion had begun to whimper. Mellonin turned on her, but her eyes were fixed on Ravion, and at a sign from him, she bit her lip and the whimpering turned into sniffles. The moment gave Mellonin hope. Somehow in only two days, Ravion had begun to change the girl. Mellonin watched as silent tears rolled down Gwillion's quivering cheeks, but her eyes were fixed on Ravion and she did not make another noise.

The girl may be moonstruck, but she is no fool.

The two strangers waited while Ravion glared at them. Raefindan fetched the two cooking pots, refilled them in the river, and set them on the fire. Mellonin, rooted to the ground, felt her blush deepen. She had expected the merchant to die spitted on one of Raefindan's arrows, and the other to die at Ravion's sword. Yet no blood had been shed. Raefindan was shivering, wet to the ribs, and hospitable.

What a puzzling man.

She roused herself, and went forward to unpack more tea, beckoning Gwillion toward the fire as she did so. December! What a time to go for a swim, she thought. Gwillion stood by the fire, but soon she was shivering, as was Raefindan.

All but Ravion started as the brush moved on the hill. Jorje trotted toward them with a dead rabbit dangling from his mouth.

"Some watchdog you were, " chided Raefindan through chattering teeth, and Mellonin had to smile. Jorje eyed the strangers with suspicion, withdrew to a safe distance, and ate the rabbit.

Soon the tea was hot, and Raefindan brought a steaming cup to each of the strangers.

Then he turned to the merchant. "Let the lad sit by the fire, " said Raefindan.

"You jest," spat the merchant.

Ravion's eyes narrowed. "He will do as I bid. As for you: sicken one of my company at your own peril." Stepping forward, Ravion set the point of his blade within the circle of the neglected necklace, caught it up glittering, and slipped it back into his pocket. He was now face to face with the merchant.

"What--" said the merchant.

"This I will have as weregild for my servant til he is returned to me, " replied Ravion. "Take him to the fire."

"How dare you!" The merchant gave Aeron's arm another yank. Mellonin stood, indignant, and Raefindan groaned inwardly. The man-at-arms raised his blade again, but Ravion's blade was now at the merchant's throat. Everyone froze.

[Imladris]

Shivering, his arm throbbing, Aeron glanced at Ravion with grateful eyes. The ranger was protecting him for some unaccountable reason, and Aeron could not help but wonder why. A feeble grin struggled to his face, but quickly disappeared when he sneezed. He felt miserable -- drat that blasted merchant who had found him.

Tea...it was not the most pleasing drink, but that did not matter so long as it was warm. He listened dully to the ranger and the merchant arguing about whether he should sit by the fire. Aeron thought that there should be no question about the matter. It was common descency to let someone sit by a fire and then people wondered why he stole from the rich merchants. Aeron grimaced and squealed again when the merchant jerked his arm again. The hoar headed one was too strong for his own good. About to elbow him back, Aeron saw the sword at the man's throat and froze. The ranger threatening the merchant's life for a bit of fire to warm a thief's cold bones? That was not quite ranger like, Aeron thought. Rangers were supposed to uphold the law...no protect known criminals. It was nice, though, that this ranger considerred it his duty to do otherwise...it was much better being his servant rather than rotting in a jail cell.

************
The merchant scoffed at the blade, and said, "Do you wish to frighten me into submission? Do you think that I will grovel before your blade and consent to let the boy warm himself?" He cocked an eyebrow at the ranger and said, "I have fought in many battles, jeered at the leering faces of orcs, stood unflinchingly in the face of the Dark Lord's Armies. I do not fear your blade."

[mark12_30]

Ædegard studied Wild Mellon with a look of surprise.

"He's so calm. And what did you call him, sir?"

"Nethwador. It means Young Brother."

"Better than Pig," nodded Ædegard. "And less confusing than Mellon. Nethador it is."

Erebemlin sang one verse over the food, and Liornung held his breath wishing he would sing more. He hoped there would be time for song. Many songs.

They ate; Liornung and Ædegard both remarked how calm Nethwador had become.

"I am not certain it will last beyond the borders of the forest. I believe lord Amroth assured him he was safe here in Lorien," said Erebemlin.

Ædegard handed Nethwador a peice of fruit. "Nethador, here, take this."

It was received calmly, and devoured quickly.

Ædegard shook his head. "It's as if you cast a spell on him."

[littlemanpoet]

Ædegard was not at ease high up in this tree, no matter how large the deck; "talan", they called it, an Elvish word. Ædegard looked at Liornung; the minstrel looked spellbound. Bellyn, next to him, was in awe. Argeleafa, sitting beside Bellyn, looked from Elf to Elf with eyes as wide as he'd seen from her. Seeing them caused Ædegard to wonder why he was not so in awe. Elves were Elves, to be sure, and they were strange, to say the least. Maybe it was that he expected them to be so different, and his expectation had proven true. Nethador, now, his calmness was not expected; and Ædegard believed the Elf, that it would not last beyond the borders of this forest. Now, why had Erebemlin said that? It was as if he expected them to be leaving soon; where to? And why? Maybe it had to do with these dreams Amroth Mellon had been having.

"Sir, these dreams you spoke of. We did not know what they were. I knew that he dreamed, but I did not think they were more than nightmares. Is there more to them?"

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Bellyn listened to the conversation half-heartedly, standing next to Liornung with her hand in his for comfort. When she noticed that Argeleafa sat alone next to them Bellyn tuggedon Liornung's hand gently and the two of them sat down next to Argeleafa. Argeleafa took a piece of fruit with tentative eyes and hesitating hands, but took it anyway. Bellyn craved no fruit, so she eyed the elves and Mellon, now called Neth-something, carefully. Although Bellyn knew that as soon as Amroth woke he would want to leave, the prospect of Mellon going back to his wild ways made Bellyn want to stay despite Amroth's urgency.

"It must mean something more," Bellyn thought aloud, despite the mishap with the names earlier. She spoke to Ædegard at first, but turned to face the Elves as she continued. "Once he took the first watch when we halted for a night, and I asked if he liked it better that way. He said he did not like the dreams he had at night," Bellyn spoke softly, trying to remember Amroth's words so that all she spoke now was true. "He spoke as if he knew the nightmares would not stop..." Bellyn paused, and in this pause she noticed that all eyes were on her as she spoke. She quickly continued. "I asked Amroth then if his song told of his dreams. He said it was strange that an elf did not remember which came first...It was all rather strange."

When Ædegard thought Bellyn was done, he recalled the attention of the elves and continued. "Has he told you things about his dreams that he did not tell us?"

[alaklondewen]

Erebemlin remained silent for a long moment considering what he should share regarding Amroth’s dreams, and if he knew enough of them to share anything at all. “He searches for Nimrodel,” he began slowly. “He searches for her not only in his waking hours, but in his dreams also.” The elf closed his eyes and considered the dark, suffocating images of the dreams. “I wonder if he is possibly finding her.” The thought occurred to the elf only as he spoke it, and his eyes widened and he looked at fruit on the table as though they held the answer.

“If I may, sir,” Liornung spoke up for the first time. “If Amroth is meeting his lady in his dreams, would they not, the dreams, be merry?”

The young man had a point, Erebemlin reflected. The dreams were far from merry. They were full of despair and hopelessness. “I am not certain, Liornung. The dreams are dark, full of a suffocating dust…” The Sinda trailed off as he mulled the idea over in his mind. “I believed his dreams portrayed his despair of his lady’s absence, but now I wonder if it is she who is despaired.” As he spoke the final words he raised his eyes and searched his guests’ faces.

[alaklondewen]

“Silmaethor, what do you make of the water and drowning?” Taitheneb leaned across the table as he spoke.

“I am sorry for interrupting, but what water and who’s drowning?” Ædegard’s face was sober, and he furrowed his brows.

Erebemlin looked from Taitheneb’s face to Ædegard’s before answering. “Before you arrived, Lord Amroth dreamed of drowning.” The Sinda stopped while he considered its implications.

“I saw him,” Taitheneb turned his eyes to Ædegard and then to the others. “His breath was stopped under the water.” The elf looked down at his hands and shook his head. “If not for Silmaethor…”

“I did what was needed. Do not make more of it.” Erebemlin shot a glance at Taitheneb from across the table. “Again I am uncertain of what to make of it.”

At that moment the sound of Bellyn’s sweet voice touched his ear. She was humming softly, and then she began to sing as if only to herself.

The wind was in his flowing hair,
The foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him strong and fair
Go riding like a swan.

But from the West has come no word,
And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
Of Amroth evermore.

The girl then sat back. Her face was slightly pink from embarrassment.

Erebemlin looked up surprised. Why had he not thought of it before? “Miss Bellyn, that is it. These dreams must be memories of his drowning, or…” The elf thought over what he made out of Amroth’s dreams minutes before. “Or her memories of it. It is possible that if the Lady Nimrodel is still in Middle Earth…she knows of his passing. If he is finding her in his dreams, then maybe she has memories or images of his death in her mind.”

The elf took a deep breath and opened his mouth to continue, when something rustled behind him. Turning he saw Amroth stir and then push himself up from the floor.

[mark12_30]

Amroth surveyed the gathering with eyebrows high. "Well met, friends. Erebemlin, thank you for their welcome."

"Of course, my lord, " replied Erebemlin.

Amroth smiled, studying each face in turn. "Are you rested and content? It is well. I have not slept so soundly since Edoras, for which I thank you, Erebemlin, and you, Taitheneb."

Erebemlin's eyes met Taitheneb's. They guessed what was next. Amroth came to the table, selected a piece of fruit and a peice of bread, smiled at Nethwador, and nodded at Ædegard.

"So. A quick meal and we ride once more. I look forward to more singing," he nodded at Liornung, and then at Bella," and your gentle song most of all."

Nethwador smiled at Bella, and then blushed and hung his head.