Friends Of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams, Part 2 RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

littlemanpoet · 04-07-2009, 06:36 PM

"Nimrodel! Nimrodel!" he cried. She did not hear him, given as she was to the dance. Thus had it always been. Maegeleb would go to where she was, but she would not see him. He would call and she would not hear, distracted by the stream and falls she loved. He had not the heart to force her attention, enraptured by the vision of her. He had always been content to watch and wait.

Then Amroth had come and taken her love and her heart away. He had regretted his inaction ever since, and his anger at himself for his lack of boldness had curdled into hate and envy against Amroth. Worse, it had turned to anger and bitterness that she paid him no heed. She would pay him heed!

But that had all been wiped away! Here now she was again, in the newness of the world, and all was fresh and full of promise. This time he would not wait.

"Nimrodel!" he cried and walked toward her. She whirled by in the dance, stlil paying him no heed. The rage came in an instant. He wanted to grab her and stop her in the middle of the dance, and force her to look at him, listen to him. But what if he joined the dance? She still might not notice him. Dared he take the risk?

mark12_30 · 04-13-2009, 06:14 PM

A waft of cold seemed to pass over the dance, and NImrodel braced herself against it. She preferred the warmth of suimmer.

Perhaps it was the cloud that passed over the sun. Several of the menfolk missed a step, stutter-stepped to catch up, caught a hand on the second try. Indil frowned. The song of the birds seemed to falter for a moment. A tendril tangled around Ædegard's left foot. He yanked it loose.

Nimrodel met Indil's eyes, and they stepped into the center of the dance, letting it whirl around them. Erebemlin's brow furrowed, and he shook his golden head; his lips tightened. The cloud passed away, and the sun shone brightly; the birds sang again, the warmth returned, the rhythm of the dance once again grew in power.

From the center of the dance, Indil and Nimrodel turned, together, shoulder to shoulder, and faced the newcomer. Though they were surrounded with pulsing green, a frost was in their eyes. Nimrodel studied the newcomer silently for a long time, and then warily spoke.

"Stranger, do you know the song of that stream which I seek?"

mark12_30 · 04-13-2009, 06:52 PM

Taitheneb watched Avarien pacing on the streambank in a slow circle dance. Though she was bent on her dance and heeded him not, he rested in her presence.

Bending to the stream, he dragged his fingers across its surface, and began tracing a circle. There were many in the circle dance; Rohirrim, and a man-child, and a lithe elf-maid. And many stood within the circle; the red-haired man; the ranger from the north; Avarien-- nay, the young mannish lady from the stone city.

Erebemlin was there. And Amroth was there. A strong, weary elf-woman-- he knew her. Mithrellas! And in Erebemlin's arms was-- an ancient woman, golden and silver-- or grey? Withered she was, and weary; yet young she was and lithe, dancing, and seeking-- seeking for the voice of the stream.

He sighed. Small wonder Erebemlin was weary. He searched for the king.

And found despair.

Lord Amroth.

A cold fear burdened his heart, and he fought it. Weary though Erebemlin was, nothing had prepared Taitheneb for the weakness of his king.

littlemanpoet · 04-15-2009, 07:33 PM

"Stranger, do you know the song of that stream which I seek?"

The question brought him up short. Yes, he knew. It was the stream that would bring her straightway back to Amroth. That he could not endure. She had noticed him. So had this young girl with her who knew him and did not like him at all. Well she should not! But his use of her had been necessary to his aims. No matter. He must proceed with care.

"What stream, lovely one?"

mark12_30 · 04-16-2009, 06:38 PM

Taitheneb heard a dim whisper.

How dare he ask her.

Amroth waited on the edge; nay, he waited on the outside. And he lacked the strength even to speak to the dark elf. Taitheneb knelt by the king, and held him by the shoulders, and pressed his thoughts deeper into the king's mind, searching. He sensed Erebemlin's thanks even as he tried to raise the king up onto his own shoulders; but he could not do it. He tried again, and again, but the king slipped from his grasp each time.

There is little time, Taitheneb, friend and faithful one. I give you my thanks.

Taitheneb fought the despair. Avarien stood by his side. Together. Almost they raised him, but he slipped from their grasp. Avarien met Taitheneb's eyes. They knelt beside the king, and strove against his weakness.

***

What stream. She frowned, and slowly walked towards him. As she passed through the ring of the dance, the dancers wove around her. Her gaze bore into his eyes, and beyond.

"I deem you know what it is I seek, yet you hold it from me."

***

Mellonin turned towards Mellondu, and glanced up at Ravion. She knelt by the blacksmith. Ravion soaked a corner of his cloak in the stream and washed Mellondu's brow.

littlemanpoet · 04-17-2009, 08:58 PM

He had forgotten her perspecuity. Now was the time to meld the future's hypnotism with Elvish osanwë. But somehow it eluded him! He could not seem to make his mind work in that way. Maybe it was how all was changed. And why did his mind stray to thoughts of Raefindan?

What had he just been thinking of? He could not recall.

But she wanted to know of the stream. If he told her, it would lead her straightway to Amroth. That must not happen! But if he refused to tell her, she would scorn him. If he told her she would be grateful to him, but still cleave to Amroth. What use gratitude as meager payment in exchange for the prize? He did not know it but his face twisted into disgust and rage.

"I'll give you no answer. Better your hate to me and loss of him than empty gratitude!"

He turned his back to her, blinked once, and was of a sudden standing again in the vale, staring somehow at Raefindan who regarded him sadly. In a sudden rage he ran at Raefindan, wielding naught but an arrow. He fell upon him in fury.

The Gondorian Ranger, the Eorling, and the minstrel pulled him off the redheaded man; who had somehow escaped injury altogether. Then he saw the arrow, its point buried in the sward.

He wanted to speak his wrath but no words would come. They sat him down on the turf, his hands tied behind his back, guarded. The dog growled at him from by the little girl.

"Mandos take me," he growled. "There is nothing left for me in the lands of the living."

mark12_30 · 04-18-2009, 06:14 AM

She looked down at the strange elf, now bound and sitting on the grass. His answers had been strange. But they lingered.

Better your hate to me and loss of him than empty gratitude.

...loss of him...

...loss of him...

She turned, and looked towards the dance. The rhythm slowed, slowed, slowed, but the harmony and power built yet more. She looked at each of the dancers, slowly, in turn, and searched their eyes.

Strangers, yet they loved her. They loved her each in turn with hope and peace but could give no path. They did not know.

The little girl, Indil. She searched her deeply. She had begin the song-- nay, she had begun a song so like it that it had woken her, given her longing and the hope of peace, but it was not the song.

What of those who had not danced? She gazed round. Three mannish folk sat near the stream, dark and weary. Two more elves and a weary elf-woman were near them, gazing at her. And a red-haired man stood with a dark haired regal elf lady, waiting. And far off was yet another elf, golden, but quiet.

She would speak to each in turn. First, the red-haired man, who was different than other men; and the elf-lady.

She approached them. She bowed her head to the man first, and then to the lady.

"You have loved me well, I deem. Somehow, I also know that I have not loved you well. "

She turned to the lady, and caught her breath. Long moments passed.

"I know you. You are my Mithrellas."

And Nimrodel wept, golden tears shimmering in the sun falling onto the green sward. Around them the trees darkened into a deeper green; faded into gold; the leaves fell; snow began. And still Nimrodel wept. When the snow grew thick around their ankles, she stepped forward and embraced Mithrellas. Mithrellas' strong and gentle arms encircled her once again, and Nimrodel knew that those arms had held her many, many times. Nimrodel's heart sank into the embrace. Finally Nimrodel spoke.

"Truly and well you have loved me these long ages. Yet I have given you only cruelty and despair. Great is my wrong. Oh, how great is my wrong toward you. And how great is your good toward me."

Indil came and stood, knee-deep in the snow, and looked up at Raefindan and took his hand.

Slowly Nimrodel's golden tears slowed, and she drew back, holding Mithrellas at arm's length, to look into Mithrellas' grey eyes.

04-15-2009, 07:33 PM	#4
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	Maegeleb "Stranger, do you know the song of that stream which I seek?" The question brought him up short. Yes, he knew. It was the stream that would bring her straightway back to Amroth. That he could not endure. She had noticed him. So had this young girl with her who knew him and did not like him at all. Well she should not! But his use of her had been necessary to his aims. No matter. He must proceed with care. "What stream, lovely one?"

04-16-2009, 06:38 PM	#5
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	Taitheneb heard a dim whisper. How dare he ask her. Amroth waited on the edge; nay, he waited on the outside. And he lacked the strength even to speak to the dark elf. Taitheneb knelt by the king, and held him by the shoulders, and pressed his thoughts deeper into the king's mind, searching. He sensed Erebemlin's thanks even as he tried to raise the king up onto his own shoulders; but he could not do it. He tried again, and again, but the king slipped from his grasp each time. There is little time, Taitheneb, friend and faithful one. I give you my thanks. Taitheneb fought the despair. Avarien stood by his side. Together. Almost they raised him, but he slipped from their grasp. Avarien met Taitheneb's eyes. They knelt beside the king, and strove against his weakness. * What stream. She frowned, and slowly walked towards him. As she passed through the ring of the dance, the dancers wove around her. Her gaze bore into his eyes, and beyond. "I deem you know what it is I seek, yet you hold it from me." * Mellonin turned towards Mellondu, and glanced up at Ravion. She knelt by the blacksmith. Ravion soaked a corner of his cloak in the stream and washed Mellondu's brow. Last edited by mark12_30; 04-16-2009 at 06:42 PM.

04-17-2009, 08:58 PM	#6
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	Maegeleb He had forgotten her perspecuity. Now was the time to meld the future's hypnotism with Elvish osanwë. But somehow it eluded him! He could not seem to make his mind work in that way. Maybe it was how all was changed. And why did his mind stray to thoughts of Raefindan? What had he just been thinking of? He could not recall. But she wanted to know of the stream. If he told her, it would lead her straightway to Amroth. That must not happen! But if he refused to tell her, she would scorn him. If he told her she would be grateful to him, but still cleave to Amroth. What use gratitude as meager payment in exchange for the prize? He did not know it but his face twisted into disgust and rage. "I'll give you no answer. Better your hate to me and loss of him than empty gratitude!" He turned his back to her, blinked once, and was of a sudden standing again in the vale, staring somehow at Raefindan who regarded him sadly. In a sudden rage he ran at Raefindan, wielding naught but an arrow. He fell upon him in fury. The Gondorian Ranger, the Eorling, and the minstrel pulled him off the redheaded man; who had somehow escaped injury altogether. Then he saw the arrow, its point buried in the sward. He wanted to speak his wrath but no words would come. They sat him down on the turf, his hands tied behind his back, guarded. The dog growled at him from by the little girl. "Mandos take me," he growled. "There is nothing left for me in the lands of the living."

04-07-2009, 06:36 PM	#1
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	"Nimrodel! Nimrodel!" he cried. She did not hear him, given as she was to the dance. Thus had it always been. Maegeleb would go to where she was, but she would not see him. He would call and she would not hear, distracted by the stream and falls she loved. He had not the heart to force her attention, enraptured by the vision of her. He had always been content to watch and wait. Then Amroth had come and taken her love and her heart away. He had regretted his inaction ever since, and his anger at himself for his lack of boldness had curdled into hate and envy against Amroth. Worse, it had turned to anger and bitterness that she paid him no heed. She would pay him heed! But that had all been wiped away! Here now she was again, in the newness of the world, and all was fresh and full of promise. This time he would not wait. "Nimrodel!" he cried and walked toward her. She whirled by in the dance, stlil paying him no heed. The rage came in an instant. He wanted to grab her and stop her in the middle of the dance, and force her to look at him, listen to him. But what if he joined the dance? She still might not notice him. Dared he take the risk?

04-13-2009, 06:14 PM	#2
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	A waft of cold seemed to pass over the dance, and NImrodel braced herself against it. She preferred the warmth of suimmer. Perhaps it was the cloud that passed over the sun. Several of the menfolk missed a step, stutter-stepped to catch up, caught a hand on the second try. Indil frowned. The song of the birds seemed to falter for a moment. A tendril tangled around Ædegard's left foot. He yanked it loose. Nimrodel met Indil's eyes, and they stepped into the center of the dance, letting it whirl around them. Erebemlin's brow furrowed, and he shook his golden head; his lips tightened. The cloud passed away, and the sun shone brightly; the birds sang again, the warmth returned, the rhythm of the dance once again grew in power. From the center of the dance, Indil and Nimrodel turned, together, shoulder to shoulder, and faced the newcomer. Though they were surrounded with pulsing green, a frost was in their eyes. Nimrodel studied the newcomer silently for a long time, and then warily spoke. "Stranger, do you know the song of that stream which I seek?"

04-13-2009, 06:52 PM	#3
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	Taitheneb watched Avarien pacing on the streambank in a slow circle dance. Though she was bent on her dance and heeded him not, he rested in her presence. Bending to the stream, he dragged his fingers across its surface, and began tracing a circle. There were many in the circle dance; Rohirrim, and a man-child, and a lithe elf-maid. And many stood within the circle; the red-haired man; the ranger from the north; Avarien-- nay, the young mannish lady from the stone city. Erebemlin was there. And Amroth was there. A strong, weary elf-woman-- he knew her. Mithrellas! And in Erebemlin's arms was-- an ancient woman, golden and silver-- or grey? Withered she was, and weary; yet young she was and lithe, dancing, and seeking-- seeking for the voice of the stream. He sighed. Small wonder Erebemlin was weary. He searched for the king. And found despair. Lord Amroth. A cold fear burdened his heart, and he fought it. Weary though Erebemlin was, nothing had prepared Taitheneb for the weakness of his king.

04-18-2009, 06:14 AM	#7
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	She looked down at the strange elf, now bound and sitting on the grass. His answers had been strange. But they lingered. Better your hate to me and loss of him than empty gratitude. ...loss of him... ...loss of him... She turned, and looked towards the dance. The rhythm slowed, slowed, slowed, but the harmony and power built yet more. She looked at each of the dancers, slowly, in turn, and searched their eyes. Strangers, yet they loved her. They loved her each in turn with hope and peace but could give no path. They did not know. The little girl, Indil. She searched her deeply. She had begin the song-- nay, she had begun a song so like it that it had woken her, given her longing and the hope of peace, but it was not the song. What of those who had not danced? She gazed round. Three mannish folk sat near the stream, dark and weary. Two more elves and a weary elf-woman were near them, gazing at her. And a red-haired man stood with a dark haired regal elf lady, waiting. And far off was yet another elf, golden, but quiet. She would speak to each in turn. First, the red-haired man, who was different than other men; and the elf-lady. She approached them. She bowed her head to the man first, and then to the lady. "You have loved me well, I deem. Somehow, I also know that I have not loved you well. " She turned to the lady, and caught her breath. Long moments passed. "I know you. You are my Mithrellas." And Nimrodel wept, golden tears shimmering in the sun falling onto the green sward. Around them the trees darkened into a deeper green; faded into gold; the leaves fell; snow began. And still Nimrodel wept. When the snow grew thick around their ankles, she stepped forward and embraced Mithrellas. Mithrellas' strong and gentle arms encircled her once again, and Nimrodel knew that those arms had held her many, many times. Nimrodel's heart sank into the embrace. Finally Nimrodel spoke. "Truly and well you have loved me these long ages. Yet I have given you only cruelty and despair. Great is my wrong. Oh, how great is my wrong toward you. And how great is your good toward me." Indil came and stood, knee-deep in the snow, and looked up at Raefindan and took his hand. Slowly Nimrodel's golden tears slowed, and she drew back, holding Mithrellas at arm's length, to look into Mithrellas' grey eyes.