Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams

[mark12_30]

Father gently closed the door behind Mellonin and mother. In the heavy silence, Mellonin's nervous fidgeting contrasted with Mellondu's sullen resentment. Father waited; mother's gaze moved across the room.

Finally Mellonin could stand it no longer. "What will you do?"

"Hush, Light-Love, and wait, " murmured mother.

Father gazed at his son. "Mellondu, the elf is cold, but I deem he lies not."

Mellondu's scowl deepened. "Confound him."

"Is it true, " said mother, knowing it was.

"Yes, " said Mellondu through his teeth. "And what else can I do? I must serve him, or lose my honor. And how would I ever regain it, save by serving him?"

"But we just brought you home, " said Mellonin.

"Surely the elf need not leave today, " mother said.

"But what if he never finds her? What if you never find her?" Mellonin cried.

They looked at one another; no one answered.

"Son, " said father softly. "Tell me; do you carry the elf-king even now?"

Mellondu hesitated, wrestling with his anger, unwilling to respond. Slowly he said, "Perhaps; perhaps I-- " His face went red. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Father's eyes went distant; his hand went to his beard, and he slowly turned, went to a chair, and sat in it, deep in thought. Mother turned to her son. "So it would seem that you serve not one, but two, " she said.

"I do not wish to serve either. Not any more, " said Mellondu.

"Are you free to choose?" said Mother.

Tears sprang to Mellondu's eyes, which he angrily dashed away. "It would seem not."

"Son, " said father, "How did the elf-king first come to you?"

Mellondu looked down. "In my dreams."

"And?"

"They were wonderful dreams, and I wanted more, " he said. "But now they are nightmares, and I have had enough; I have had enough." He fought back tears once more. "I just want to stay home."

Father stood and came to Mellondu's side, and laid his hand on his shoulder, saying nothing. Mellondu fought for his composure while Father waited.

"Father, " pleaded Mellonin.

"Hush, daughter, " said Mother, blinking back her own tears. They waited while Mellondu's inner storm lashed and battered him. Slowly, finally, he became calm. Father gave his shoulder a firm shake; Mellondu looked him in the eye, squared his shoulders, and nodded. The sun was westering; the family slowly walked back out into the front room. They looked only at the tall elf.

Mellondu faced Erebemlin. With a steady voice and clear eye, he said, "I will serve you til my life-debt is paid."

Mother tightened her grip around Mellonin's arm. Mellonin's tears would not stop, but Mellonin dashed them away, standing tall with gritted teeth.

[alaklondewen]

"You are a brave young man, Aeron," Ravion said quietly. Aeron glanced at him. "Braver than I."

Aeron drew his eyebrows together with puzzlement as he looked at the ranger’s face. Aeron did not think himself brave. In fact, he considered himself a coward. He had not been able to save Gwyllion. He had run from the group in the night without giving word to anyone.

“Nay,“ the boy’s face relaxed as he spoke, and a sarcastic grin spread across his thin face. “I am far from being braver than the Lord Ravion.” Aeron’s smile faded when the sadness in Ravion’s eyes did not change. “You know,” he started again as he rocked, wrapping his arms around his knees and looking back up to the stars. “I may not be able to find my lass, but you…” Aeron stopped himself and sighed before glancing back at the ranger.

[alaklondewen]

The humans talked nervously among themselves while waiting in the small Gondorian home. They engaged in idle chatter to hide the conflict and uncertainty that filled them all. Erebemlin remained distanced from them, unmoved, still standing by the door like a cold statue from ages past.

If he had wished, the elf could have sent his thought into the tiny backroom and heard all that passed between the boy and his family. However, he chose not to do this. He would wait until the decision was made.

He did not simply listen to the humans, but he let his mind wander to the North. A sweet melody filled his thought. It was a song of reeds dancing in a cool breeze along the river, the grasses swaying on the banks. Then, he saw the homely cottage, covered in vines and creeping plants that were rich in color and texture. He noticed the cottage door was open before he saw her step onto the threshold. His heart began to beat loudly in his ears. The wind ruffled her hair around her face and shoulders. The brown, green, and gold waves of her hair lit up as the westering sun’s rays streamed beneath the canopy of the porch. A smile formed along her mouth as she saw him and she stopped singing.

No, do not stop, my lady.

Her smile faded for a moment, yet her eyes twinkled still. You are troubled, Erebemlin. What ails you?

The elf did not answer immediately. He did not wish to show the beautiful lady how vulnerable he had become with Amroth’s departure, yet…when he looked into her eyes no judgment could be found and she appeared to already understand his weaknesses and his troubles.

You worry the boy will not choose to follow the path you have laid before his feet. Am I right?

Yes.

Are they not his feet to follow his own path?

Yes, but… Erebemlin started but stopped himself, filled with his own uncertainty. Instead he whispered to her, What of Lord Amroth?

I cannot answer that for you, but I see you have some hope…however small. Marigold smiled and held out her hand to him. Hold tight to that hope. The boy will choose the right path. Now we shall see whether the right path is the one you would have him choose.

Erebemlin wanted to touch her outstretched hand. His mind reached out to her…

The door in the back of the house scraped along the floor as it opened. Erebemlin quickly drew his thought back to the small home. The room fell silent. The humans looked uncertainly from the blacksmith to the elf as Mellondu stepped forward. “I will serve you til my life-debt is paid.”

The tall elf exhaled very slowly. “You have chosen well, young man.”

Mellondu clinched his jaw, then replied, “I will not have my honor destroyed.”

Erebemlin narrowed his eyes slightly and looked upon the young man with curiosity. What the elf thought to himself about the worth of the boy’s so-called honor, he kept to himself and only nodded in reply.

Mellonin sniffed as she brushed away a tear, and Erebemlin looked over the boy to his sister, then to the hurt and understanding faces of his parents. Tearing his eyes away from theirs, the elf turned back to the young blacksmith. “Rest while you may for we will leave the White City at dawn in three days.”

[alaklondewen]

Father placed his hand on Mellondu’s shoulder, squeezing it to convey the pride he felt for his son at that moment. Mellondu pulled his shoulders back and raised his chin a bit higher.

Even though lines of concern were written on Mother’s forehead and brows, she forced a smile and turned to their guests. “At least we have this night. Good Raefindan, and everyone, I do hope you will stay for a bit of supper before you go back to your rooms at the inn.”

Mellondu threw his mother a look of disagreement, but she did not acknowledge it. The boy gritted his teeth. How were they going to feed them all? He knew his parents had naught to spare for so many. In all honesty, he hoped they would leave. He was not in the mood for company, and he wanted the tall elf out of his sight.

“Oh, yes, please stay!” Mellonin pulled away from her mother’s hold and stepped forward, taking Leafa’s hand. She then turned to Liornung. “Oh, Liornung, you must sing for Mother and Father…and Bella! How I loved your song! Please stay!”

“I do not think they wish to…”

“Nonsense, Son.” Mother interrupted. “We would be honored to have to you as our guests. Besides, we have yet to hear the tales of your travels. What do you say?”

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

“That is very kind of you,” Liornung was the first of the group to speak. “I would love to stay for a while, to visit and talk.”

“So would I,” added Argeleafa, who smiled. Bellyn liked to see her friends happy; it had been a long journey and now they could rest for a while. “There are many of us, though. Will it be trouble to feed everyone?”

“Of course not,” said Mellondu’s mother, earning a look of dismay from her son.

“It is settled then!” Mellonin looked happier than all of them. “Come, sit. Leafa and Bella, over here…Ædegard…”

Mellonin and Mellondu were finally home. Bellyn wondered why she did not feel more at home. Though she had been born in Minas Tirith, she had not been back to the city in over six years. Bellyn had thought she would be fine returning to the city, but as soon as the company had entered the walls, memories had begun to flood back. She remembered so many things. She remembered the day she fell and scraped her knee, and her mother carried her home. On her third birthday it had been raining, and her brothers took her outside to dance in the puddles. Ever since she had been tall enough, Bellyn helped her mother every day to make dinner. Her father spent most of her youth traveling. Sometime when she was twelve, her mother and oldest brother grew ill. When her father finally came home, it was too late.

The memories made Bellyn sick to her stomach. She forced a smile. Mellondu’s parents searched for more chairs, and the visitors made themselves comfortable in their home. Bellyn and Argeleafa stood to help Mellonin and her mother prepare something to eat.

“No, no, sit,” Mellondu’s mother insisted, “I would love to hear of your travels.”

“I do not know the whole story myself,” Bellyn replied with a wry grin. “Let me help, and someone can tell the story from the beginning.”

“Or we could let Liornung sing us a song!” Mellonin suggested.

“Yes, he is very good at that,” Ædegard mused.

Sing something from some distant place, Bellyn hoped inwardly. She could not wait to leave Gondor in three days.

[Nurumaiel]

Liornung had readily accepted the invitation, but his manner, while cheery and polite, was rather subdued still. Argeleafa watched him with the deepest concern, but he hardly glanced in her direction. For the most part he gazed out of whatever window was closest at hand, but his face, far from being peaceful and dreamy, was full of shadows.

Leafa moved closer to him, but he did not look up at her presence, or even seem to sense it. She hesitated briefly, but decided that she ought to try to speak to him again.

"Liornung," she said, sitting down beside him.

He made no answer.

She bit her lip, wondering if he had not heard her, or if he chose not to hear.

"Liornung," she said again, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He started, and looked up at her in surprise. "Why, Leafa!" he said, with a smile that was too strained for her comfort. "I didn't hear you come up. How you startled me!"

His voice was cheerful, to be sure, but it seemed so force. "Liornung, they want you to sing," she said.

"Do they now?" he said. "How kind of them. After dinner perhaps I shall sing." He smiled up into her face for a moment more, and then turned his face back to the window. When she saw the shadows returning, she hastened to distract his attention.

"Liornung!" she cried.

The urgency of her tone was unmistakeable, and he immediately looked to her again. She looked desperately into his eyes, and spread out her hands. "Won't you tell me what's wrong?" she said.

He opened his mouth as if to deny any worry on his part, but saw that she would not be put aside. There was a pause, and then he heaved a deep sigh and, getting to his feet, strode over to the window. He could see naught but his own reflection, and the reflections of the others, sitting and talking, or getting the dinner ready, all looking at ease and glad for a rest, safe for Leafa, who was still sitting with worry etched on her features. And his own self. He saw the haunted expression on his face and could not blame Leafa for her worry.

The reflections of the window seemed to fade, until they were moving about the room like so many ghosts, with echoing voices and laughter, and swift floating movements. The room seemed to reel, and the ghosts vanished, so he could see only his own face in the window, and the stars in the sky. And then everything cleared, cleared more than they ought, for the reflections were no longer hazy figures in the window, but sharp and real images that moved before his eyes. He did not recognise them at first, for he was seeking for Bella, or for Ædegard amongst them.

And then, slowly, his mind cleared, as the window had done, and the faces became familiar to him. He caught his breath, and at that sound they ceased in what they were doing, and turned their heads to him, smiling in welcome. He saw Master Ealdor, the innkeeper from home. The Inn was quite empty of guests, so Ealdor was sitting by the fire, laughing and talking with an old man. It was Old Secgrof, and he looked older and more worn than ever. Indeed, he looked as though another winter would bring not only the cold, but his death as well. And yet his face was cheerful, and he raised a hand in greeting to Liornung.

There was one more figure in the quiet Inn. She was sitting in a chair, a little distance from the fire, leaning back and watching Liornung with a little smile on her face. It was Blostma, the innkeeper's daughter. She wore an old faded apron over her gown, as if she had just come from the kitchen. Her foot was slowly beating out the time of some unheard song... some song she was waiting for him to sing. They were all watching him, just as they had in the days before he had left home. They would cease their talk, and watch him... and any moment one of them would ask him to play and sing. Blostma would ask, for she always asked, with a breathless tone of voice, and eyes full of eagerness. Did they delight in his music so much? Did it truly bring such joy to their hearts that they waited in such an anxious manner?

She was standing up. And now she would ask.

But she did not say a word. She simply came mutely to him, and laid a hand on his shoulder. He gazed at her, through the reflection in the window. There was a long silence, and at last she spoke.

"Liornung," she said.

He waited for the request, but it did not come. His mind was filled with bewilderment. Did she not want him to sing?

"Liornung," she said again, and shook him.

And when she did so, everything faded. The stars vanished into a blackness, and the blackness began to glow softly with a golden haze. Blostma was gone... she had dispelled herself into nothingness. For a moment there was only the blackness with its faint glow, and he was tempted to let it go no farther. He should like to remain in the blackness, and imagine that he would be back at the Inn again. If he left the blackness behind, he knew what he would find. And yet, with a sinking heart, he knew he could not remain. The glow grew stronger, and the figures began to take shape again. The hand still remained on his shoulder, a for a wild moment he thought that perhaps Blostma was still there. But when all reflections had returned, it was Leafa's worried face that stood behind him, and her hand that lay on his shoulder.

"Oh, Liornung, what is wrong?" she said.

He turned away from the window, and looked about the room, studying each face in turn. As he recognised each face, his own was filled with disappointment. Truly, Blostma, her father, and Old Secgrof had disappeared, to the other side of that blackness. But when his eyes fell on Bella that lingered there, and he smiled a smile full of sorrow.

"How I envy dear Bella," he said, "for she is home."

He patted Leafa's hand, and then slipped from her grip and returned to his chair.

[Orual]

"My 'lass', as you put it, is nearly as far out of reach--" Ravion broke off, seeing a hurt expression on Aeron's face. He shook his head, running his hands through his hair. "I am sorry, Aeron. That was unfair of me." Aeron shrugged.

They sat there, two silent figures with similar expressions of pain in their eyes, staring up at the sky. Looking out of the corner of his eye at Aeron, Ravion wondered if the stars held any more answers for the boy than they did for the Ranger. He found no solace in them.

He saw in Aeron's eyes a pain and confusion that was achingly familiar to him. He knew that the boy probably woke up at night and looked for his sister. Again he realized how brave Aeron was, to be able to compare his own loss to the loss that Ravion was inflicting on himself.

He stood up, and extended a hand to Aeron. Characteristically, the boy refused the help and stood up on his own. "It is late, Aeron," Ravion said. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow will surely be another long day."