Friends Of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams, Part 2 RPG

[littlemanpoet]

Roy paused; he had been gently rocking back and forth. How was he to answer such a difficult question? With the truth, of course, but the truth spoken wrongly could do more harm than good.

"Did you know, Indil, that Tharonwë looks into our minds?" She nodded silently. "Well, he can give us thoughts that we think are our own. Did you know that?" Indil shook her head. "It's true," Roy nodded gravely. "He wants something he shouldn't, and we've been trying to stop him from getting it."

"What does he want?"

"He wants a thing he does not own and he's trying to take it from the one who does."

"That's stealing," Indil pronounced sagely.

"Right, so he put a thought in the others' heads that I sas helping him to try to steal the thing. So now they don't trust me."

"That's bad," Indil commented. "He shouldn't do that. We should tell him."

"What are you telling the girl?" Tharonwë's cold voice challenged him from where he sat, his back to the wall, his chilly eyes staring at Roy icily.

"The truth."

Indil turned and looked at Tharonwë. "You shouldn't steal," she said clearly but gently. "It's wrong."

Tharonwë's eyes flicked to the girl and his brows lowered. He stared at her as if he was trying to peel the gentleness off of her face. He broke off suddenly.

"Aulë's bones!" Tharonwë cursed. "You should not tell the girl such things. It is far more complicated than that. You mislead her."

"You have so misled yourself," Roy answered solemnly, "that you cannot see the simple truth laid before you."

"Hah!" Tharonwë laughed mirthlessly. "Say what you like, it matters not."

"We shall see," Roy replied calmly.

He knew what his next scrimmage would be. He would hold Tharonwë here until the others came this far, and he would then hand him over to them. Following that, he would fight to win back their trust; not for his own sake, but so that their quest's goal could be achieved. He started rocking Indil, and felt her little body's dozing tremors as she fell off to sleep.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

When she woke, Raefindan was asleep and Tharonwe was nowhere to be seen. She watched her sleeping friend and leaned in close to kiss his forehead, like her mother used to do to her. His eyelids fluttered gently, but he did not stir. The fire had become mere embers.

From the darkness, she saw eyes gleam and stiffened, ready to scream. It was Tharonwe; she did not relax.

"Why do you hide in shadows, Tharonwe?" she asked. "It is so hard to see anything."

"My vision exceeds yours, human child."

"But the sun is so pretty."

"Light blinds sensitive eyes. In darkness, every vision is possible."

She shook her head. "You are silly. I miss sunshine. My mama says the sun is like a hug. It makes you warm and safe."

"Your mother was a human fool."

"You," she said firmly, "are mean."

Tharonwe inspected his nails in the darkness. With a stick he prodded a breath of sparks into the air. "Do you believe that you are not mean?"

"I try to be good." she said hesitantly, and then said, "No. I am not mean, and you are not being very nice to me."

"What is nice, little girl?" His voice was almost too sweet. She shivered as he prodded the fire; she watched the embers glow and sparkle.

"Nice is stirring soup before Mama has to ask and nice is picking pretty flowers."

"What if stirring the soup too much makes it thick and unsavoury? Is that nice, to ruin what nourishment your mother has concocted for you, because you have not the patience to wait for instructions? Is it nice to kill plants for your amusement? I think you are a very not nice little girl."

She took an indignant breath. "I am too nice."

"I think you lie."

"My papa taught me that lies are bad."

"And you never lie, surely." His voice was a hiss.

Indil propped her fists on her hips. "Never."

"Do you know where Nimrodel is?" He looked into her eyes as she stood silent, frozen. "Ah, you do know. And her servant told you not to tell me. Do not lie to me. Good girls never lie."

When Raefindan woke, he found Indil wrapped up in blankets in total darkness, sobbing.

"What is wrong, Indil?" he asked, glaring into the dense blackness for the form of the Elf.

"He asked me to tell him a secret."

Raefindan gathered her into his arms, still unable to hear or see Tharonwe. "And did you tell him a secret?"

"They asked me not to tell him things. But he asked me. He said only naughty children lie."

"What did he ask you, Indil?" Raefindan asked gently, but insistantly, forcing her to meet his eyes.

She shook violently and accidentally bit her lip. "He asked me where to find the ladies."

[littlemanpoet]

Roy considered what the ramifications of Indil's confession might be. It had not occurred to him that Tharownë might not know where Nimrodel and Mithrellas were; indeed, he had not considered that Tharonwë might not know. Perhaps he did, and was now manipulating Indil in order to find a weakness. To him, that seemed to be the issue of greater immediate import.

"Sometimes, Indil, the truth need not be spoken to someone who will use it for ill. It is not a lie to say nothing at all."

He looked at Tharonwë through narrowed eyes. It was tempting to lash out in his anger, but it would not be wise. What was needful?

What is his purpose? Roy asked himself. It is to grasp his desire, and to use any tools how he will to achieve that, no matter the condition when he drops them.

He was tempted to ask Indil to wake him whenever the Elf talked to her; but then he considered that Elves need no sleep, and realized the hold he would be digging for himself.

What should I do? he asked silently.

He received no answer.

Then I will wait until I know what to do.

"Shall we play a game?" he asked Indil.

She looked up into his face and nodded yes.

"You choose the game."

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

The fire rebuilt, Indil gathered many small stones and one much larger one.

"This will be the city and these will be houses." she explained with great care. "And this," here she drew an imaginary line with her finger, "is the road."

"Is this Minas Tirith?" Raefindan asked as Tharonwe watched boredly.

"Yes. And this is the road." She pointed again. "And this is where Bergil found me."

She pointed to a spot on the road and Raefindan racked his mind for location before realizing suddenly how futile it was to trust to the accuracy of a child's made up map. He considered the questions he could ask Indil of her map, but settled on, "So what is the game?"

"This is the mountain we're on." She pointed to a large rock she sat beside. "And these," a handful of pebbles, "are Bergil and Mellondu and everybody."

She set them into place upon the rock, arranging them carefully. "This is us." She placed one slightly larger pebble into a small indentation in the stone.

"No Elf?" asked Raefindan.

"No. I do not want to play with him. He left. His pebble is over there." She pointed across the cave, as far into the dark and as far from her as she could see.

"But this is Bergil, hm?"

"No, this one is Bergil. That one is Ædegard and Jorge. They are cold. They are looking for us. See? They are on the mountain."

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

"And it is cold with blowing snow all over the mountain, right?" asked Raefindan.

"Yes."

"What happens next?"

"Next Ædegard slips because it is icy, but he does not get hurt, because somebody," Indil acted it out, "catches him. And he says, 'Thank you,' and the other person says, 'No thanks are needed, friend,' and then they keep walking, and they are shivering," This was punctuated by a shiver in the girl, "because it is cold and snowing. Brrr, cold. And it is hard because it is a mountain and it is not flat, so when it gets slippery they slip a lot."

"Who caught Ædegard?" Raefindan asked.

"Silly Raefindan," she said, "That rock is yours. That means you get to pick."

"Ahhh!" The rules of the game dawned on Roy and he smiled. "You are right, Indil, I was being silly. Hmm-" It would not be Ravion because he would be in the lead. "It was Liornung who caught Ædegard. And then he sang a song he made up to keep their spirits up. Ravion would be leading them all but Jorje is too eager to be in the lead and he jumps through the snow with leap after leap, barking as he goes, trying to say 'halloooo! Where are yoooooo'!"

Indil giggled at the thought of Jorge. "And then Ravion says, 'Quiet Jorge!' because he thinks he hears something."

"What does he hear?"

Indil looks seriously into Raefindan's eyes as a deafening series of crashes echo outside of their cave. "Snow is falling off the mountain."

Roy sat up straight and his eyes opened wide. Avalanche! But we are high up, he thought. He looked back to Indil. Her eyes were wide too. He snuggled her into his arms again, glad of the warmth of her little body to calm his worried nerves.

"The snow falls and gathers more snow, and Ravion sees it far above and drawing near. Without a word, he points them to their left, then leads them as they struggle to avoid the thundering mass as it approaches."

Indil said something then, but Roy did not quite hear. "What is that?"

"I said, 'I hope Jorge listens to Ravion.' Because he is ahead of them and maybe he didn't see Ravion point. I wish Jorge was here with us."

"I do to, Indil." Roy had more confidence in Jorje's good senses than he did in that of the humans. "Dogs know their packs. Jorje notices the change when they start going the other way and bounds through the snow after them.

"But the avalanche (that's what we call snow that falls down the side of a mountain where I come from) keeps building and getting closer. But by chance, if chance you call it, the slope was not so steep just above them, for they were at the knee of the mountain. An arm of the mountain reached over and placed its hand on its knee just above them, and caught most of the snow. What snow it didn't catch, slowed and was turned away from our friends."

"And then they climb over it!" she cried happily as the pounding from outside slowed to a dull rumble. "Raefindan, does it snow a lot where you come from?"

"Yes. Where I come from there is a big lake. The cold wind picks up the water from the lake and turns it to snow and dumps it on the place where I live. Many feet of snow fall on us each year. But not as much as way up here." Raefindan looked all around them, looking at the dark ceiling of the cave as if his mind's eye pierced through and saw snow in every direction. He looked again at Indil, and smiled. "So do the hunters find those they hunt?"

"Yes." she said. "But the mean elf is not happy when they do."

Roy shot a glance toward Tharonwe, who watched with what seemed to be disinterest, yet Roy could tell he was listening intently by the light in his eyes.

"You said the mean elf was over there." Roy pointed across the cave into the dark.

"Yes, Raefindan." Indil sounded exasperated and Roy briefly hid a smile. "But now he is back. Because he never goes away for very long and he is always watching and I do not think he wants us to be saved. Or hunted. I think he wants to be the hunter instead."

"That may be, Indil," Roy said with a wink, "but he is hunted will he or no."

Her eyes went wide suddenly. "Oh. You mean the others."

"Not only," he whispered. "But back to our game. Ædegard, Jorje, and the others peek around a lee of the mountain and find staring back at them Bergil, Mellondu, and Erebemlin. And what do you think they say to each other?"

"I think they are very happy to see each other and they do not hug because they are busy being grown up men, but Jorje kisses everybody!"

Roy laughed. "You think that they would not embrace out of gladness to be together again?"

Indil nodded seriously. "I think that Erebemlin does not like to touch people. I think it maybe makes him sad because sometimes he looks at people and he does not seem happy. 'Specially Mellondu. And sometimes Mellondu is the same way, but sometimes he is playful. Raefindan, why is Mellondu not always like Mellondu? And then Ravion would say 'Where is Aeron and Raefindan? Were they not with you?' and Bergil would say 'Aeron is with his sister,' because that is where he is."

Roy looked closely at Indil as she picked out several new pebbles and kept them in her lap, safe in the folds of her dress. "Aeron and his sister and Mithrellas and Nimrodel and Angela." she explained. "Singing songs. Except they are not always happy songs because they are not always happy."

And of me, thought Roy, what to they say? That I am a turncoat and pawn of Tharonwë, and a murderer. Will the others believe it? Roy teetered for a moment over a chasm of self-pity before righting himself and firming his resolve. It did not matter what they thought; what mattered was what he did from now on.

Tharonwë rose. "The storm has abated. We will leave here now."

[mark12_30]

Jorje barked greeting repeatedly to the Elf and two men that they found under the outcropping.

"We greet you!" cried Ædegard. But then he marked that three of them were missing. With rising trepidation he asked, "Where are Raefindan, Aeron, and Indil?"

The three stood to meet Ædegard. Mellondu met Ædegard’s gaze, but did not speak. Erebemlin put his hand on Mellondu’s shoulder, and was also silent.

Bergil stepped forward, and his jaw worked. “The child, “he replied, “has been stolen. By Tharonwe. He took the little one.”

Ravion stepped forward, face ashen. “What would he want with the child? But—Aeron. Where is Aeron? And Raefindan?”

“Dead.”

“What—both? Ah, vile fiend!” Ravion snarled, his hand now on his hilt. “Foul villain and most vile!”

Erebemlin spoke. “Villain indeed; but he did not take Aeron’s life. Raefindan did that.”

Ravion stared.

Mellondu seemed to shake himself awake, and toward him faltered Mellonin, pale and wan. She paused beside Ravion, and placed a slender hand on his shoulder. Ravion started, Mellondu scowled, and Mellonin spoke.

“Friend, I grieve with thee. Alas for the boy. But who is this Raefindan? I see a red haired man, with a long past and deep pain. He was once thy friend as well?”

Ravion stared at her, his jaw working, but no speech came. Mellondu stepped to his sister.

“Mellonin.”

Mellonin met his gaze. “She is here.”

Mellondu’s jaw dropped. “Mellonin!”

Her eyes closed, and she swayed. Ravion started, and steadied her; Mellondu, a moment behind, took her shoulders, and barely heard her whisper, “Brother mine,” before she went limp. As she fell both men caught her, glaring at one another in baffled disbelief. Finally Mellondu cried out, “What have you done?”

Ravion snarled at him. “I would die for her; I did nothing to her. As you do, she bears an elven fea.”

Mellondu went silent, and clasped his sister to his breast. Ravion, torn between grief over Aeron and indignation at Mellondu, turned toward Bergil.

“Did you kill Raefindan? And what of the girl? You have tracked her and her captor? How far are they?”



*~*~*


Erebemlin's gaze seemed clouded, and Nethwador slid off of his big red
horse. The tall powerful elf stared down at the small slender Easterling,
and the boy looked up, waiting. Erebemlin touched the boy's mind.

Where is the king?

Asleep in prison.

I wish the blacksmith were kinder to him.

As do I.

I wish I could speak into his mind, as you speak into mine.

As do I.

Can you not speak to the blacksmith?

Erebemlin did not reply to the boy, and the boy wondered how many times Erebemlin had tried.

Mellondu called for water. Bella brought a water flask to the half-conscious Mellonin, and she drank.

[Formendacil]

“Did you kill Raefindan? And what of the girl? You have tracked her and her captor? How far are they?”

As Ravion turned to Bergil, the younger ranger felt a flush of mild guilt. Ravion, he knew, had been close to Aeron, and also had probably considered Raefindan a friend.

"We did not kill him," said Bergil. "It would not have brought Aeron back, and his sudden violence, though inexcusable, was too curious to merit such irrevocable justice. We sent him on alone, instead. Either he has joined Tharonwë or he has rescued Indil. The second seems unlikely, but it would be good fortune if he had."

"Or he is dead," said Ravion with little emotion, and with Bergil he turned to look over their path.

"Or he is dead," Bergil nodded solemnly. "We shall not know, I suppose, until we find Indil and the swamp-Elf. Unfortunately, their trail has become more difficult to follow with the ill weather that arose about when Raefindan departed. Indeed, I am glad you have caught up with us, for you have been a ranger for longer years that I, and I would fain have your help. I believe we are not far behind them, but much time could be lost seeking the remnants of their trail--and I would not lengthen Indil's captivity with that villain any longer than absolutely necessary. I fear greatly for her safety."

"And well you should," said Ravion, half to himself, remembering Gwyllion's brutal end, even as the new rush of anger at Aeron's passing returned in strength. "Mellondu? Erebemlin? Are we ready to depart?"