The Lonely Star -- Chapter 4

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami's back and face stiffened as she chastised herself for her reaction to Piosenniel's appearance.

How could she forget the lessons of Beleriand so soon? There she had seen enough blood and dead bodies to last for a lifetime. She forced herself to remember the hobbit children who had been gutted one-by-one and lain at her feet. At least these victims had been adults, each one conscious of whom they served and what they hoped to gain from it. The Elf and Man had no reason to apologize for their actions. Without clearing the river of Angthaur's spies, the crew of the Star could not hope to free the hobbits who, even now, were being tortured and murdered day-by-day.

And yet, Cami could not shake the image of Piosenniel's bloody visage. Why was it so different when you were the killer? Why should it be so much harder? And these were Men, not Orcs. Cami had to admit that running through a Man, and running through an Orc were not exactly the same thing. Better to face a dozen Orcs than look in the eyes of a man and wonder why it couldn't have been different.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Gamba's mind raced, thinking of what he had to do this evening; he couldn't miss the Candlestone game that happened every evening after dinner; there were too many guards betting on him and betting against him, and if he didnt show up, there would surely be questions asked. And he wasn't about to elt anybody else win, not with Esta's kiss as the prize. But there was a meeting scheduled that evening, and he had something he wanted to look at back at the Locks that had aroused his curiosity.

He pulled Corby aside, and Corby agreed not to let the game start til he arrived. Then he pulled Loremaster aside.

"Of course you can't miss the games, it would arouse far too much suspicion," Loremaster replied. "The meeting will be late, we will not expect you at the beginning of the meeting. Get there as soon as you can, and don't look as if you're rushed. But don't prolong the game, either. Now get to dinner."

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mithadan]

While waiting for Piosenniel to return with the Hobbits, Mithadan took up a bucket and mop and scrubbed at the blood stains on the main deck and then the crews' quarters. He pulled the bloody bedding from the one cabin and cleaned the others as best he could. What to do with this vessel was a question yet to be decided. Likely it would be scuttled at sea, but for now he wished it to be free of any sign of a struggle.

He looked into the bucket of reddened water with saddness, thinking of the source of that colour. Far indeed had the race of his forefathers fallen to be in league with Sauron. He thought back to the foul jests and evil laughter of those in the Inn at Nindamos and shuddered. Even so, some Faithful remained who had not fallen under the darkness. Most of these had taken ship and were waiting the the East of Numenor for what might befall the island as a result of Ar-Pharazon's rebellion. But others were imprisoned below Meneltarma and had been condemned to die. Must he let them perish?

He had been warned against seeking to do too much. Not to do what could not be done for, to some extent, the events of the next two weeks before the Fall were set, unchangeable. But if the Hobbits could be rescued, why not the Faithful? Might they not make their way to the coast to somehow join the meager fleet of Elendil?

Unbidden, a memory of his mother, now long dead, came to him. She had absorbed eagerly the lore of his house and had passed it on to her children. "Our line dates back to the days of Beren and Luthien and their fathers and mothers before them. It is a line to be proud of, for you are the descendant of Kings. Long ago, your forefather was Tar-Elendil, King of Numenor. You are descended from his second daughter, Isilme, whose sister was Silmarien, the mother of the line of the Lords of Andunie from whence came Elendil the Tall and his sons Isildur and Anarion. And when Numenor fell and the nine ships of Elendil were rushed across the sea, your ancestors were among their crew and came to Middle Earth with them. Be proud for your line has always been counted among the Faithful..."

He smiled grimly at the memory. He never dreamed that he would see Elenna the Fair. But to see the Island at this time was more akin to a curse than a blessing. Better he had lived with the memories of his mother's tales than had lived to see the dregs of Numenor. Nonetheless, the tales of his mother played back for him in his mind, of Beren and Luthien, of Elros, Isilme...

He looked up at the moon and its silver glow; Isil the Sheen, for whom Isilme had been named and others of his line as well. And he knew, as with the shock of sudden insight, that he must make the attempt. That he must rescue the Faithful from their fate. But he shuddered again, for the words of Ulmo returned to him and spoke of his death, while those of Ancalimon bade him take care and give thought to his actions. He had done so, and he had decided and now his course was set.

He looked to the West and whispered, "Please, let my path lead me out of the tombs, for Piosenniel and for my children yet unborn..."

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Gamba scurried along the edge of the cave, hiding in the grey shadows, which threw distorted images onto the opposing wall. He darted in and out of hidden clefts seeking to escape the scrutiny of all who passed by. Whether guard or friendly hobbit, those who made their way down the dark corridor failed to note a slender youth on a secret errand.

It was dinner hour, but the boy had excused himself from the meal line with a mumbled excuse of not feeling well. Now, Gamba sped towards the Locks to scrutinize something that had caught his attention earlier in the day. Just as he suspected, the sole guard on duty lay sprawled at the table, his feet propped up, and head hanging awkwardly to one side. He was snoring loudly, unlikely to stir in the next few moments. The other guard stationed in the Locks had taken his leave a few minutes before to return to the central guardhouse and pick up their evening meals. In only a short time, he would return. Gamba knew he must be quick if he hoped to complete his task.

That afternoon, the guards had again ordered him into the musty storeroom where he had stumbled onto the old set of prison keys only a few days before. Now they bellowed that he was to clean the walls and shelves of the storeroom and begin stacking provisions inside. Heaped against the wall were sacks and barrels containing grain and other foodstuffs. Gamba had spent a good part of his day scrubbing out the storage room and lugging the overloaded bags back inside.

In the course of his explorations, he had run his hands over the rough walls and floors. What he discovered startled him. The wall was old, with huge cracks running through it. At one point the supporting beams had actually begun to tumble, exposing what was underneath. It seemed to be a narrow tunnel filled with dirt and small stones. He’d dug through the rubble in one section and stuck his hand clear through to the other side. It had to be an open space of some sort. Gamba could not be sure what was there, but he had his suspicions.

The boy knew that hobbits were not the only prisoners held in the tombs. The king had also imprisoned a number of Men here. Gamba had seen a few of them on the outside work squads. Most were felons or brigands, rough fellows with little respect for anyone. But Loremaster had once told him that there were others who fell into a much different category, members of the Faithful who opposed the rash policies of the king. Many were dead or gone, but a few, Loremaster suspected, were still being detained in hidden cells which backed onto the Locks.

Gamba slipped into the storeroom and pulled out a small digging instrument, which he’d concealed under his shirt. He pulled the sacks out from in front of the hidden enclosure, and began digging fiercely but quietly to enlarge the hole. Soon it was just large enough for an adroit hobbit to slip inside.

The darkness on the other side assailed the boy’s eyes. There was eeriness in this place, surpassing even that which he’d seen and felt in the caverns. He squinted in the darkness. He could just make out the shapes of Men locked inside a bleak pit that looked little better than a pen meant for cattle. His heart caught in his throat. This forgotten remnent must surely be the Men whom Loremaster had described.

Gamba quietly backed out of the hole and replaced the rubble as best he could. Heavy sacks of grain were again set over the opening. Then, he quickly ran out and hurried back towards the place where the others were joined to play Candlesticks.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Once back at the ship, Pio washed the sooty grease from her face and arms as best she could. She put on the breeches she had found, though they were too large for her, wrapping her belt twice around her waist tightly to keep them up. She gave her blades a cursory cleaning and secured them at her waist. The undershirt replaced her bloodied one. Over it she put her tunic from the skiff. Into her belt she tucked her cloak, still folded small. Her arm ached where the sword had cut her. She rubbed it for a moment, then put the pain from her mind.

The Hobbits sat on deck while the ship went upriver. Pio had let them know that it had been a grim scene below, and that she doubted Mithadan had been able to clear all evidence of the struggles away. Cami, especially had an acute sense of smell, and the metallic tang of old blood would sicken her senses. She was glad to be up where the fresh night breezes were the only scents she need encounter.

Mithadan was at the helm. He had at least scrubbed the blood from his face and arms, but he could find no clothing to fit him, and his blood spattered outfit gave him a grim look. He was in a strange mood, more reserved, distant. Pio left him to his thoughts, and kept watch from the bow.

When they had reached a point about half a mile from the caverns, they docked the ship along the bank, and disembarked. The arms brought from the Star were secured to one of the air bladders; Cami and Rose held tight to the other one as the Elf and Man pulled them up the river to the river tunnel.

Bird, now in her human form, had been waiting for their arrival and when Levanto had come to say they would be there soon, she had gone to get Loremaster. The three of them had helped pull the Hobbits and the weapons from the water.

When at last all of them stood on the path along the water, Pio stepped forward and greeted Loremaster. She brought forward Cami and Rose, introducing them to him as Nitir and Azra. He smiled delightedly at these legendary figures from his past returned beyond hope to them, and greeted them warmly. The Elf watched her friends fondly, feeling both glad and saddened, at the same time. It was as if she watched them fall into an old, and comfortable place from which they had never really left, a place where they belonged. She was glad for them, and even envied them this place of belonging. Yet, sadness, too, tinged those glad feelings, knowing that they had already stepped away from her.

A sense of acute aloneness struck her for one brief moment like a sharp blow, and she almost gasped with the pain of it. Then she put it away, also, as she had done earlier with her painful shoulder, carefully masking what she felt, her face blank of emotion.

Loremaster stood looking at her curiously, Nitir and Azra beside him. ‘Ah!’ she said, recovering herself. ‘Where are my manners!’ She brought Mithadan forward, and introduced him to Loremaster. They greeted each other in a cordial manner, Loremaster taking the measure of him with a few questions simply asked. He seemed pleased with the answers that Mithadan gave him, and pleased that Nitir and Azra seemed to put so much trust in him, as they chimed in to tell the Elder Hobbit of the things the Man had done to aid them.

Another Elder had come out to where the group was gathered, and bade them hurry to the meeting. It was not safe to be standing out here for so long a time. Loremaster turned and started to lead them down the tunnel toward the meeting place. Pio put her hand on Mithadan’s arm and whispered that she would meet him back on the ship. There was something she needed to do. She stepped back from the group, pulling Bird with her.

‘Are you not going to the meeting, Pio’ she asked. The Elf shook her head. ‘No need for me to be there, they’ve already heard from me once. Loremaster can introduce Rose and Cami to the group. And it seems he’s got a fair enough opinion of Mithadan, to present him well enough to the other Hobbits. I had something else in mind – something I thought you might help me with.’ She took her cloak from her belt and put it about her, pulling up the hood to cover her head.

‘Yes?!’ Bird asked, arching her brows. The Elf strode along, her face obscured within the folds of the hood, keeping to the shadows. She was making her way alongside the perimeter path, heading in a northerly direction about the prison from its western boundaries.

‘The Locks, Bird. I need to see the Locks this time. The Hobbits . . . and the Men. Can you get me there?’

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

The main cavern was filled with men and hobbits. It was lit only by a dozen or so candles, half of which went out on a regular basis amid cheering, clapping and shouts of encouragement.

Loremaster led Mithadan, Azra, and Nitir carefully around the main cavern, via side caverns and tunnels that interconnected. The game provided a reasonable distraction, and the four passed almost unnoticed. Only Phura locked eyes with Loremaster briefly, and then his gaze flickered across the three companions, and his eyes burned. But he did not stir from his spectator's seat, and quickly looked back towards the game.

"We mustn't distract Gamba, " Loremaster muttered to the three companions. "He's not nearly as steady as he would like to think. He knows you are coming, and if he sees you he will lose his concentration, and everyone will look where he is looking. Softly now." They waited on Loremaster's lead, Mith smiling, Nitir and Azra trying not to strain for a glimpse of what was going on.

"Glorified target practice, " Loremaster whispered. "Gamba will be late for the meeting, and so will anybody else that makes it to the finals. Phura may be late as well, if Azraph is in the finals. The meeting will begin with the elders. Come." He led them to the tombs.

Phura sat through the rest of the game as if on pins and needles. Nitir and Azra! He had seen them, finally, and would meet them soon. His heart raced, and his eyes glassed over, remembering that quick view of them. Ordinary little hobbits they looked, dripping from their swim, stepping stealthily along, as quiet as any hobbit could ask to be. He wondered about the grim-looking man with them.

Would the game never end?

Normally he would have been saddened by Azraph's early disqualification, but this time he consoled her gently, and whispered that he had to go.

She glared at him. "I knew you couldn't leave while I was in the running."

"You missed on purpose?"

She nodded. "Go."

He kissed her hand, and melted into the shadows.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Birdland]

"I still think you should have attended the meeting...turn left here...I can't think that the Halflings will accept Mith being there without your presence, even though I've told Loremaster all I could of him..." Elf and insect stopped and flattened themselves into the shadows as a guard passed by in a crossing tunnel. "And what are you going to do when you get to the Locks? They're guarded, y'know. Not well, but still..."

“I'll deal with that when we get there. Where now?"

“Turn right. We're almost there. Pio. I must tell you one more thing before we get there."

The Elf turned her head towards the insect on her shoulder and silently waited.

“Gamba has found Men in the prison. I heard him tell Loremaster. There is a crack in the wall of an old storeroom where he squeezed through. Oh, Pio, it is a miserable place, and these Men are chained, alone in the dark. But we don’t know where the front entrance is, and the crack is not big enough for anyone but a Hobbit.”

“Or an insect”, murmured the Elf

“Well, yes, I suppose an insect could crawl through,” agreed Birdie with a buggy grin, which made Pio turn her head in polite disgust.

“We are here. There are two guards, but they are barely competent. Mostly sleeping or dicing. Shall I go ahead and let Daisy know you are here?“

[piosenniel]

‘No, stay with me.’ said the Elf, answering Bird’s question. ‘Mithadan will do fine at the meeting. Cami and Rose can vouch for him. And it certainly appeared Loremaster had accepted him.’ She changed the subject.

'Are there any other ways into the Locks, other than the entrance I saw last time from the perimeter road?'

Bird rode within the Elf's hood. 'There are others, Pio, but they require that you pass through the Main cave to access the path leading past the Old Tombs and the smithy and beyond those, the Locks.'

'Then we will keep to this road.' said Pio, picking up her pace.

They had soon reached the entrance that led to the Locks. Bird reminded her there was a single guardhouse just down the path to the Locks. ‘You will have to find the entrance to the Men’s area yourself. In truth, I have never gone there, nor have any of the Hobbits.’

Pio drew back well into the shadows and pulled her cloak tight about her. There were two guards in the small guardhouse tonight - talking casually, it appeared, and playing some sort of game. She heard one of them swear as the other made a fortunate move, then saw him clap the other on the shoulder as if to congratulate him. She waited until another round of the game had passed. She saw one of them say something to the other, and both broke out in laughter. She took the opportunity and slipped quickly past them.

Bird directed her to the area that the hobbits were kept, and she quickly surveyed it, fixing the details of the area in her mind. She was careful not to be seen by any of the hobbits there, not wishing to frighten them. 'Where is Daisy kept?' she whispered to Bird.

Bird directed her to the small, isolated cell that the Hobbit was kept in. Listening carefully, she could hear that Daisy was not yet asleep. She could hear her soft steps as she paced within and the occasional sigh as she stopped to lean against a wall.

Pio looked about the outside of the cell. There was only a small grate at the base of the locked door that she could see would provide her a way to speak with Daisy. There were no guards in the immediate area, as far as she could see. With Bird acting as lookout, she knelt down and spoke softly through the grate.

'Daisy! It is Pio. Are you alright?'

The Hobbit thought, 'Now I have gone mad. I am hearing voices.' Her good Hobbit sense got the better of her then, and she knelt down by the grate. 'Pio?! Is that really you?'

She heard the girl's voice break, and the sound of it broke her own heart. 'Yes, little one. Mithadan, Cami, and Rose are meeting with the Elders. Cami and Rose will be staying here, now, until the rescue day. I came to tell you I will come for you three nights from this. Can you hold on until then?' The Elf held her breath awaiting the answer.

Daisy stifled a small sob, and said 'yes'. Pio took a deep breath, relieved. Had said 'no', she would have taken her from the cell then.

The Hobbit steadied her voice and told Pio of the keys and the knife she now had hidden. 'Is it a single key you speak of, or a number of them?' asked the Elf. 'A full set of them to the Locks, I think.' said Daisy. 'That news lightens my heart, little one. Can you keep them safe and hidden from from the guards?'

Pio heard Bird give warning that someone approached. 'I must go now. Someone comes. You need stay strong only a little longer. I will come for you as I promised.' She stood quietly and melted into the shadows of the cave.

A single guard passed by, unheedful of her presence. The Elf waited several moments straining her ears for the sounds of any other movements. There were none.

'Take me now to where the Men are kept.' she said to Bird, clinging to her shoulder once again. She could hear the small sigh as her friend protested she did not know where the entrance was. ‘Then I will find it on my own.’

‘Can you show me the storeroom you spoke of?’ Bird directed her to where it stood on the east side of the path that led from the perimeter road to the Locks. It stood just outside the Locks space itself, down from the guard alcove, and seemed to abut up against a stonework wall on its northern and eastern edges that ran from the Locks entry road to the perimeter road. ‘Curious!’ she said to herself, recalling that when she had traveled the perimeter road previously, she had seen another thick stonework section of wall along the interior of that road that ran halfway to the New Mines entrance. Now that she thought about it, she seemed to recall glimpsing that same stone as the back wall for the guards’ alcove. More curious was the fact that the stonework ran from the floor to the low ceiling of the cavern in this area.

‘And this is where the Hobbit found the gap in the wall and saw the chained Men?’ Bird nodded her head ‘yes’. The door to the storeroom was locked when she tried the handle. There was, she noted, a large gap between the bottom of the door and the dirt flooring. ‘Just enough room for someone Bird’s size to slip through.’ she thought.

Bird looked askance at her, antennae twitching irritably. ‘Alright! I guess I can look around for you!’

Pio looked at her and laughed softly. ‘I knew it! But don’t go now. I want to search for something I know must be in this area.’

She could not find what she was looking for along the stonework wall that ran northeast of the storeroom. The Elf sat and thought for a moment, running all that she knew again through her mind. ‘By the One!’ she swore softly to herself. Bird looked at her questioningly. ‘They have hidden it well. I will need your help to get into it.’

Bird was to be sent back out to the perimeter road, where the path to the Locks entered. She was to make what disturbance she could and draw the two guards out to look for the problem. Pio instructed her that she needed ten minutes see what she could find, then Bird needed to distract them once again.

‘Are you crazy?’ hissed Bird in a whisper. ‘Perhaps!’ said the Elf, ‘But do it for me anyway – that is, of course, unless you want me to simply take out those two hindrances.’ A throwing knife appeared in each of Pio’s hands, her fingers grasped the blades in readiness. Bird resigned herself to this dangerous plan, and moved into position.

Pio watched the two guards, cudgels in hand, amble up the path to see who was causing such a ruckus. She slipped into the alcove, picking up a ring of keys thrown on one of the tables, and worked her way along the back wall. There it was! Her keen eyes saw the door-like shape cut into the stonework wall, and her fingers found the small keyhole beneath a rough edge of stone. A few tries of various keys and she had it open and slipped in quietly, closing it tight behind her.

She stood, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. She could hear no sounds as of someone coming toward her. In the distance she saw a small smoky lamp that sat on a table. She advanced toward it, looking for who might have left it, but found no one. ‘It probably was one of those two guards playing their games in the alcove.’ she thought to herself. ‘Who would want to sit in this gloom watching other Men locked away like animals?’

‘This is good.’ she thought, as she crept about the area, peering silently into the cages at the chained figures. ‘At night, the Men are no better guarded than the Hobbits.’ ‘And why should they be.’ she thought to herself. ‘Who would defy Gorthaur and come to rescue them?’ None save the small band of foolhardy companions she found herself a part of.

She was careful to make no contact with any of the Men. There were not many of them, and the ones she could see were in dire shape. But there was nothing she could do for them now.

Pio finished her inspection of this appalling place, noting each detail of it, then returned to the door. When she thought enough time had passed, she cracked it open and saw the guards once again leaving the alcove. She thanked Bird silently and slipped out of the alcove, locking the door and replacing the keys. She waited in the shadows, until the guards returned, shaking their heads and gesturing in an irritated manner. Some time passed before they returned to their game. Then she slipped silently passed them and went quickly to meet Bird.

‘Don’t ever make me do that again!’ protested Bird, as Pio lifted the Neekerbreeker to her shoulder. Her eyes belied this complaint. There was a certain impish gleam that flared in them.

‘I do need one more thing from you, Bird. Can you enter the Men’s Locks and see if any are healthy enough to make it to safety if we should free them?’ Bird supposed that she might be able to do this, but couldn’t guarantee it. It would be hard to make contact, but she would try.

Pio thanked her and told her she could tell Levanto what she had discovered when he came the night of 21 Cermië to give any final instructions for the rescue.

They made their way quickly back to the part of the caverns where the river exited. Bird had now changed back to human form and watched as the Elf slipped quietly into the water. ‘Remind Mithadan, if you will, that I will see him at the ship. I will see you in a few days, Bird.’

She waved once and slipped beneath the surface.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

After Loremaster had said his farewells to the Elf, he turned his attention towards the women. Even with the warm summer months, the long trip up the river had left its mark on the party. Water dripped steadily from their long skirts, leaving good-sized puddles on the floor. But, this time, Loremaster had remembered to come prepared with blankets and hot drinks. Azra shuddered in the cool, dank air of the underground caverns and eagerly grasped the steaming brew. Nitir sat picking seaweed out of her brown curls, clutching the blanket about her shoulders. Every now and then, she lifted up the mug to drink and warm her chilled fingers.

Once the women were comfortable, Loremaster went over to Mithadan and explained, “We’ll wait just a bit to enter. They’re going over the details for weapons, escape routes, and who’ll be in charge of each section of the cave. I ‘m afraid, if we go in now, all that will get lost or rushed in their curiosity to meet the three of you.”

Mithadan nodded in understanding. He wandered off on his own, reading the inscriptions on the crumbling, grey stones. This section seemed to be much older that what Piosenniel had described to him on her last visit. These graves had a stark simplicity, a dignity and an acceptance of death, which was missing from the more ornate sarcophagi he’d passed on the way into the tombs. Many of them showed names in both Elvish and Adunaic, a mute witness to the friendship of Elves and Men which had lain at the heart of Numenor. He roamed on from grave to grave, noting the chiseled images and dates, overcome by an overwhelming sense of sadness. So much goodness, so much might, all passed away.

Nitir watched him go, but said nothing. He seemed to need the time alone. No wonder, after what he’d had to do that afternoon. She expected he'd return shortly.

Helen’s post

The two women sat waiting, when Phura slipped into the chamber, half mumbling apologies, but going around Loremaster until he stood by Azra and Nitir. They turned to face him, smiling.

He stood, eyes searching their faces. “Hello,” Azra said, and tears started in Phura’s eyes.

“Hello,” he replied, and began to tremble. He gently took Azra’s hands, and kissed them. She smiled. He shook his head. “At last. I can’t believe it. I-- ... Azra, welcome. I’m so glad you’ve come. So very glad.” He swiped the tears from his face, and steeled himself, and turned to Nitir.

She caught his hands, face glowing, and he studied her; he started to kneel at her feet, but she gave an indignant snort. “None of that…” Pulling him upright, and embraced him. Again, he mastered his emotions, and stopped his shaking, and managed to choke out, “Thank you so much for coming. Welcome. At last, at last.”
Loremaster told them it was now time to go in. As they entered, Nitir firmly drew Phura to stand beside her, and his eyes kept straying to them as the meeting continued.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Mithadan's Post:

The Loremaster led Cami and Rose before the assembled Elders who fell silent as they entered. Some stood as if in reverence and stared openly at 'Nitir and Azra'. Suddenly self-conscious and uncomfortable, Cami looked down and then back at her companions and noticed that Mithadan was not with them. She called the Elder to her and whispered, "Mithadan, the Man, is not here. We must find him." For a moment, a cloud of doubt crossed the Elder's face. Then he went back through the opening to seek out the Man. He returned a few minutes later with a trace of a smile on his face and motioned for Cami to follow him.

After exiting the meeting place, they turned right and in an area dimly lit by a distant torch they found Mithadan. He rested on one knee before a tomb of marble, his head bowed and his forehead touching the cold stone. Cami read the archaic runes at the foot of the coffin. "Elros..." she whispered.

Mithadan shot up at the sound of her voice and reached for a knife. Then he relaxed as he saw who had spoken. He faced the sarcophagus and bowed reverently. When he straightened, he reached out a hand and gently caressed the stone. Then he turned and joined Cami and the Loremaster. But Cami thought she perceived a new fire in his eyes.

The two Hobbits entered the meeting place. Then Mithadan ducked through the opening and stood in the dim, flickering light. A few of those assembled gasped at the sight of the Man and one jumped up as if to run. Mithadan smiled and bowed to the Elders. "Well met, my friends," he said...


working to get meeting up

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami was deeply relieved Mithadan had been found, and that he had spoken so respectfully to the Elders. Politiness went a long way in hobbit circles in bridging differences between folks. She also hoped he had found some comfort in his reverent vigil near the tomb. But now, she struggled to focus her mind on the ugent matters at hand.

Loremaster had finished alluding to the ancient lays and came to take her and Rose by the hand. The Eldars came up respectfully one-by-one to speak with them, and murmur their thanks. The younger ones hung back, either shy or otherwise reluctant to come forward.

Cami walked casually over to two hobbit girls, apparently daughters of the Elders, who looked to be no more than sixteen years. They eyed her curiously, with none of the reverence their parents had shown.

She smiled to herself. At least that was a start. She was deeply touched by the courtesy others had shown, but that was no way to get close to people and feel comfortable with them. And that is what she’d have to do, if she and Rose had any hope of making a home for themselves.

Violet stared quizzically at Cami, and actually extended a finger out to poke her. “You look like my mother.” It sounded more like a rebuke than a statement.

“I suppose I do,” Cami agreed.

“And Azra looks like my best friend who’s two years younger than I am.”

The girl narrowed her brow and concentrated, “How could you do the things that were in the songs? How could you help lead the people to freedom at Tol Fuin? I’m sorry, but you don’t look any different than the rest of us.

She glanced at Cami’s sturdy body, her curly brown hair, her tan skin, and open face. She looked so..... Violet searched through her mind for the right word, and finally found it. Nitir looked so very ‘regular’, she thought.

“To tell the truth,” the girl continued, looking a bit sheepish, “Somehow I thought you’d look more like an Elf.”

An Elf? Cami giggled. Pio would certainly hold her sides with laughter when she heard this. Why an Elf? And then it hit her. Every mortal in Middle-earth, not just hobbits, but even Men, at times wondered if they were poor imitations of the taller and wiser and elder ones who’d once lived in the light of the trees.

But she was indeed no Elf. And if the hobbits in these tombs did not believe in themselves, did not trust their own ability to do and change things, then the rescue could never succeed. And that was true, no matter how hard Pio fought, or how wise Mithadan was with his vast knowledge of strategy and tactics.

Cami chose her words with care before replying. It was one of those rare occasions when she believed that she might actually make a difference.

“If you think you're going to break out of this prison because a magic Elf will come and carry you off, then you’ll never be free. You will never be free because this rescue won’t succeed unless hobbits themselves take up arms and use their brains and strength to fight back against the evil that’s around us.”

“But even that’s not enough. If some magic Elf came and did carry you off, you still wouldn’t be free. Being free isn’t just taking the bars away. Being free is learning to believe in yourself, being proud of who you are, and not trying to pretend you’re someone else."

"You have to convince yourself first. Then, maybe, just maybe, you can convince others as well. Those Elves and Men who look at us, and only see that we’re smaller than they are. I’m not saying they’re all like that, of course, but some are.”

“That’s the only reason I’m here. To help you find in yourself what’s already there. I’m no different than you are. I can’t give you anything extra. What you have inside is enough, if only you'll learn to use it.”

Cami awkwardly plopped down on the floor beside Rose. Then Loremaster came over and took her hand. “What you just said, I want you to repeat to every man, woman, and child in this place within the next two days.”

Cami leaned towards him and beamed, “I’ll certainly try.”

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Now, it was the Man’s turn. Cami understood that a great deal hinged on this meeting. If the hobbits didn’t trust Mithadan, they would never accept his role in the rescue. And that would make everything much more difficult.

Loremaster stood up as if to begin, but Cami waved him off with her hand, and asked to speak. He quickly nodded yes.

She went over to Mithadan and tugged at his shirt, leading him into the circle. Then she indicated he should sit on the floor beside her.

She began in a quiet voice. “This Man, Mithadan, is my friend. Without him, I would not be here today. When I first started this venture, nearly a year ago, I approached many seafaring Men and asked for their help in securing a ship. Each one refused me. Many of them laughed or belittled me when I tried to explain what I wanted to do.”

“But this Man was different. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t turn away, and he took what I said seriously. Day-after-day, we’ve worked together to unravel all the riddles of the hobbit past. And when it became clear our voyage would involve great danger, he never questioned or turned back.”

“I love my people. I would never bring someone to you who would harm us. When I say you can trust him, you can do just that. Please put aside your fears. Listen to him. He wants to discuss the rescue with us, and how we can all work together.”

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Mithadan's post:

He looked out at the many faces before him, some hopeful, some doubtful and a few openly hostile. He chose to remain seated so that he would not appear so different and threatening to the Halflings. With a smile, he began.

"I have travelled long and far to reach this place and stand before you. I have stood at the sides of Nitir, Azra, Piosenniel, Bird and Levanto and have worked with them for many months now and at last we can see our long road ending. I am Mithadan, and if by act or deed, by life or death I may aid in your rescue, I will do so.

"Those who made these tombs and tunnels and enlarged these caves built well and thoughtfully. The tunnels to the northwest and the path to the guards' quarters in the southeast are the only means to enter and exit this prison other than the river. The guards discount the river because few of you swim and even if you could, where would you go? The tunnels are the key. They were made narrow by intent to lessen the risk of an escape, but more so to make those paths easy to defend in the event of an uprising. Few Men could easily hold back a much larger force for a long while in those tunnels. And of course they do not expect an uprising. Not any longer.

"But the very thing that allows the guards to defend the tunnels also allows the tunnels to be defended against the guards. Three days hence, at one hour before midnight, we will enter these caves via the river. We will not be many. Four warriors from the Lonely Star together with Nitir and Azra and perhaps a dozen or so Elves from the ships that are en route to here even as we speak. We shall hold the tunnels against the guards and release those Hobbits in the Locks. It would be best if we reached the tunnels and the locks unseen. For this reason we ask you to help us select our routes, act as our guides and perform one more task."

Mithadan looked several of the Elders in the eyes each in succession. Then he continued. "You must attack with stealth and slay any guards who stand in or enter the routes you select for us. Then once the entryways into the caves are held, all the remaining guards must be slain and the rescue may begin..."

"This is madness!" cried one of the Elders. "This Man will lead us to our deaths! And how, if this folly were to somehow suceed, would we escape?"

"Through the river to the waiting ships," answered Mithadan calmly.

"As you have said yourself, we cannot swim!"

"We will have friends in the water to assist you and air bladders to hold your heads above the water," replied the Man. "Using one, I have brought you these."

He lifted a sack and opened it revealing 15 knives of various lengths and shapes and the swords and weapons from the Numenorean vessel. The Hobbits gasped. One elderly halfling stood and walked up to Mithadan. "You mean to do this? To save us? Even at the risk of your own lives?" Mithadan nodded.

The Loremaster rose and said gravely, "Let there be no dissent! Let us agree to allow Nitir and Azra and their friends to bring us from bondage!" Some cried out, others nodded, but there was no dissent.

"We will designate several captains to speak with you of the details of your assault and our rescue later," said the Loremaster. "And Mithadan. Thank you!"

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

OOC: I will edit as needed to fit in with Mith's earlier post.

Just as Mithadan finished talking, a boy came bursting into the chamber. His face was flushed, his eyes open and alert. He'd obviously been running to try and reach the meeting before it ended.

Cami stared and stared again. Something clicked in the back of her head. She knew him. She was certain she'd seen him before. But where? And how was that even possible?

And then two images came flashing before her eyes. Images of a dream from many weeks before. Cami knew she'd seen this boy and his brother, the tall respectful one who'd spoken with her before the meeting.

The younger brother seated himself between Mithadan and Nitir. He seemed to have little fear of the Man, and no special reverence for Cami. Cami had to admit that the term 'respectful' did not seem to apply to this hobbit.

The youth held out his hand to Mithadan, and quickly explained, "I'm Gamba. Phura's brother."

He looked over at Nitir, taking in the seemingly stolid figure, then quickly dismissing her from his mind. He turned instead and focused on the Man.

"I've found something, something important."
Gamba explained how he'd been working in the Locks, and had made his way into the old storeroom. He described the keys which they'd discovered and then went on to detail his adventures from the night before, about the hole in the wall, and the Men chained inside a pen.

Cami turned, curious to see how Mithadan would respond to this strange news. She watched as his demeanor and appearance abruptly changed. Relaxation and friendliness were swept away. Instead, she saw a gaze of rapt interest and fierce determination.

Cami willed herself back to concentrtion as she heard Gamba continuing. The boy spoke with certainty, "Loremaster, these are the Men you talked about. Some of the Faithful who opposed the king. We can't just leave them to die. We need to do something."

He looked directly at the Man, waiting for an answer.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

(O.O.C. - I can move this farther down if necessary. The muse has struck now, though. smilies/smile.gif )

Birdie slipped under the storeroom door and through the crack, crawling and leaping over rock and rubble until she gazed down on the chained men.

The air of decay and suffering was all around her. She could taste sickness through her feet, and feel the despair through her antennae. This was not the barren but spacious accommodations reserved for passive Halflings. This was where dangerous Men were kept until all fight and hope had left them. Birdie choked.

In the gloom of the cages she could not tell the conditions of individuals from here. To her insect eyes these were just massive, still shapes, all asleep or comatose. The Skinchanger leapt down to the floor of the pit and morphed to human form.

Some of the Men were nothing but bones wrapped in bags of skin. Whether they could even walk to get food anymore was doubtful. Some looked to have been here for a lesser time. Wasted and sick from want of light and air, but still able to move if motivated. One was dead. Bird hoped that he would be removed come dawn. “Please,” thought Bird, “don’t let the guard be drunk. Please let him remember to check.”

She slowly walked down the line of cages, checking each Man as well as she could in the dim light. There seemed to be some 15 or so left. Out of how many? The cages stretched on down the corridors, but only the ones closest to the door were still occupied.

Bird turned to go back to the crack, when her foot stepped on the loose dirt near the wall, and a small shower of pebbles slid to the floor. She froze as the man in the cage before her rolled his head and locked eyes with hers.

His eyes widened and he gasped as he saw a shadowy form of a cloaked woman. “Who are you?” he whispered through dry lips. The man laying next to him also turned, struggling to sit up as he saw what his companion looked at.

“Hush!” Bird whispered back and she gazed furtively down the corridor. How could she have been so stupid! But then she looked into the dark, sunken eyes of the prisoner, and her heart filled with pity. So she had been seen. There was nothing for it now. She could not leave without saying some small words of comfort.

“What is your name, Man of Andúnië?”

The man licked his lip and gave a dry cough before answering. “Gilrain, my Lady. And this is Rumil. But how came you…?”

"No, there is no time for questions.“ Bird held up her hand, and then, words came to her, she did not know from where. “Men of Andúnië. Fear not. Your time is short, but help is at hand. In three days time your prison will be opened, and you must make your way to the sea. Númenor is doomed, but hope will live if you follow the Elf-Friend to his new kingdom. Have faith, O’ Faithful!”

Bird looked around and blushed beet-red at her outburst, for now every man in the prison had awoken and were gazing at her, their eyes shining in the darkness. Quickly she morphed back into neekerbreeker form before she made a complete fool of herself. The men gasped and blinked as the woman before them disappeared into thin air.

“Well,“ thought the skin changer as she leaped for the opening in the wall. "Mith and Pio will string me from the yardarms for sure. Making promises like that to those poor Men! How could I have done such a thing? Well, if we fail, they’re all dead, and us as well, and those promises will not matter. I least I hope they won’t. Oh, what was I thinking?”

The men sat in silence, gazing at the space where the woman had stood. “Gilrain?” asked Rumil, “Who was that? Think you Silmariën herself came to us?”

“No,” breathed Gilrain, “It was Elbereth…”

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Mithadan's Post

Mithadan took a deep breath. So now it comes. Fate has stepped forward to stare into my eyes and dangle a prize before me with one hand while the other carries a sword. The prisoners looked to him expectantly, but, to his side he perceived that Cami shifted her weight and shuddered.

"Where are these Men?" asked Mithadan. "Can they be reached?"

"Their Locks are apart from the Hobbits' and I know of no way to reach them," replied Gamba. "I saw them through a crack in a closet, big enough perhaps for a small Hobbit to pass through but too small for a Man."

Mithadan's heart sank. So fate plays a cruel game and perhaps the last toss will not be mine. He looked at Gamba then back at the assembled Elders. "These Men are innocent and worthy of rescue," he began. "I...would save them also if it is possible. But not at the risk of failing in our task of releasing you from your imprisonment. If it can be done, I will attempt to do so and if it cannot be accomplished...it is the will of the One."

The Elders nodded their approval, but Mithadan heard Cami gasp at his words. He continued. "What weapons have you assembled?"

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami's eyes grew wider and wider as she listened to Mithadan's response to Gamba. The woman had no quarrel with the lad for seeing misery and wanting to help out. She could certainly understand that kind of spontaneous feeling. If she had seen the chained men, she probably would have felt the same.

The Man, however, was a different matter. From the beginning of the voyage until the end, Mithadan had warned her in a hundred different ways that they must not tamper with the threads of time. How many times had she listened to his droning lectures?

She had finally reached the point where she actually believed him. If someone had asked her whether the Star should do this or that, she would have shaken her head sadly no. Then she would have explained how they must protect the threads of time as Nienna had implored that distant day so many months ago. And that must stand even if the end result was great sorrow and longing.

Then she had come to Beleriand and learned that she must give up one who meant more to her than any other. And that giving up was very hard indeed. There was not a day that went by in which she didn't mourn her loss. But still, she had not questioned Ancalimon, or argued against her bittersweet doom. Just as the Man had said, there was to be no pulling of the threads of time outside the narrow path of the mission.

But today she had sat and heard a different tale. Mithadan had evidently been thinking for some time about stepping in and taking an active role in the rescue of the Faithful. They were his ancestors, his kin, good and decent people who deserved a chance at life. Gamba's chance encounter with the storeroom door had given him every pretext he needed to forge ahead. And no one could question his motives. For to rescue good people from shame and death was an excellent and honorable thing.

And now the hobbits had asked her to say if she agreed with Mithadan in this matter. What could she possibly say?

Cami stood up and walked out of the meeting, and squatted down in one of the side chambers. Tears streaked down her face. She had certainly been a fool, she thought. Her own desire to stay on Tol Fuin was as honorable and justified as any other cause. The hobbits had just been released from prison. They needed someone with her skills and dedication to help put all the pieces back together again. Even Ancalimon had acknowledged that fact. She could have stayed and done so much good, and she could have been so very, very happy.

Instead, she was left with a dull emptiness, and the assurance that she had sacrificed and done the right thing in protecting the fabric of time and following the dictates of the Valar. Yet, when she looked at Mithadan, happy with his wife and children soon to be, and going ahead with plans to rescue the Men, she thought maybe she had made the wrong choice. For one wild instant, Cami thought of comandeering the Star and pointing it back towards Tol Fuin in those first years of the Second Age. She would forget the silly restrictions of the threads and take the beautiful things she wanted in her hands just as the Man was seeking to do.

Rose left the meeting and glared at Mithadan. She ran down to the alcove where she could hear Cami sniffling. The two of them had talked about this problem so many times that Rose instantly knew the reason for her friend's despair.

Cami hugged Rose, and buried her head in her shoulder, "I'll be alright. I promise. It's not really his fault. He made the best decision he could, and so did I. Only mine seems so hard sometimes. If he can do it, if he can pull the threads to bring such happiness to so many in that prison, and still bring joy to his wife and family, how could I possibly question him?"

For the first time in her life, Cami understood the sadness that lay behind the name "Little Andreth", and, like Andreth, there was nothing she could say or do to change the seal of her doom. She knew enough to understand that her own life had seen its own small store of riches. Many had walked a tougher road than her own. Yet she still could not comprehend why one person should find things so easy, and another meet only hardship along the way. She wondered who doled these portions out.

She turned to Rose. "Tell Loremaster that I respect and honor the choice that Mithadan has made, and that they must do whatever he says. And tell Mithadan. Tell him that I ask only one thing, that he will respect my choice not to return to the ship on the night of the rescue. I will stay here with my people." And for the first time Cami wondered if she would ever leave the tombs or see the light of the stars again.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had just turned to make her way out of the tombs, when she heard the quiet footsteps of hobbits leaving the meeting, one-by-one. Then she saw Rose and Mithadan walking together. The Man's eyes looked tired and haunted. Cami wondered what else Rose had said to him, but decided it was better if she didn't know.

She turned to the Man and smiled, "Please give Pio a hug when you see her. I'll be fine. Rose told you we're both staying the night of the rescue?"

The Man looked at her intently, "If you feel it's that important, then you need to stay. And, Cami," his voice hesitated, "if it's any help, I'm as haunted as you are wondering if I've made the right choice. I don't know. I'm only doing what I feel I must, what is right and honorable. In that respect, we are alike."

She nodded her head in agreement.

As they walked along the passage, Gamba joined their small group. They soon came to the chamber where they had found the Man before the meeting.

HELEN'S POST:

Once again, Mithadan paused by Elros' marble tomb, and knelt.

Gamba approached Nitir, and tossed out a question as if he was flinging a challenge at her-- the Loremistress. Would she be like all the rest?

"What is he doing that? Worship?"

"No, " Nitir answered. "Deference and respect. Elros is his ancestor, but more than that, Elros was a good and wise king. Mithadan strives to be as much like him, and like the other noble Numenoreans of old, as possible."

Gamba blinked.

No riddle? No question, no mystery, no long convoluted chain of barely connected facts leading absolutely nowhere?

Just an answer.

In three brief sentences, she had taught him to love this man, this Mithadan. He reviewed the statements about him: deference and respect for a good and wise king, with the hope that he, too, could be good and wise.

Mithadan stood and moved on, and Nitir followed him. But Gamba stood rooted, thinking. The candles faded as Gamba struggled with his sudden, newfound love for a man he did not know, and realised that it had been gifted to him by a lady that he did not know. How did they do that?

How did she do that?

Phura came back around the corner. "Aren't you coming?"

Shaking himself back into motion, Gamba followed his brother out.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami and Rose parted from Mithadan, and wished him speed in returning to the skiff. Bird had come down to see him off and buzzed about, happy to see her two friends for the first time in many days. For a few moments, they discussed the possibility of Cami visiting Daisy in the Locks. Bird had an idea and promised to take her in the morning.

Within a few moments, the three were joined by Loremaster. He said he'd found a family where Cami and Rose could spend the night. Then he'd smiled and added, "And I suspect, they would't mind you coming along too, Bird."

HELEN'S POST:

Loremaster led Nitir and Azra to Azraph's father's alcove, and Azraph and her sister Nitir, and her mother made them welcome and as comfortable as she could, which wasn't very. Nitir remembered all too well what prison comforts were-- mainly, few and far between. All these hobbits had was each other.

More than once as they prepared for sleep, Azraph and Azra faced each other, smiles turning to giggles; they were both eighteen, both resistant to boundaries, and both eager to see beyond their current horizons. They were friends at once.

Nitir spoke with Azraph's mother as they settled for the night, but she found herself adjusting to the rock floor beside Azra and Azraph. It was not condusive to sleep. Neither was the giggling between the two girls. She sighed, and decided to relax and enjoy it. She rolled over.

She could almost see into the Loremaster's study. She thought she saw Gamba sitting cross-legged on the floor, rocking a small child. She wondered if she saw others huddled around him.

She rolled back over, noting that Azraph was watching too. Azraph smiled. "They're good to those boys."

Nitir considered her. "How many boys do they care for?"

"Five."

"Five?"

"They're all good boys. Obedient." Azraph sighed, a little. "Usually Phura comes to say good night, " she whispered, "but tonight he was out too late."

"Oh, " Nitir said, smiling a little. Not long after, Azraph drifted off to sleep.

Nitir lay awake on her hard pallet a long time after that, thinking about the tangled events of the day and listening to the tiny chirp of a lonely neekerbreeker.

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

Birdie sat quietly in the folds of Cami's threadbare blanket, rubbing her legs together in a gentle, repetitive song. Her antennae were pointed towards the tunnel, down to the water. She wondered if anything was reaching out beyond the walls of the cave, but she did her best.

"15...not strong...they await..."

Finally, the skinchanger yawned and slept herself.

[piosenniel]

The swim back to the ship was turning out to be a pleasant one. The full moon shone brightly on the river, and the air was warm. She floated for much of the trip on her back, letting the current carry her down the river like an otter.

She passed a grouping of trees and rock that she remembered were just north of the ship. The Elf flipped over on her belly and paddled slowly to the ship. The thought of going back on board held no interest for her at the moment. Instead, she climbed up on some wide flat rocks along the river bank, and lay down there, beneath the trailing branches of a large willow.

Moonlight dappled through the leaves, and the sound of the water rose up like music as it flowed up and over and round the rocks and stones at the river's edge. It was an altogether lovely moment of grace in a long and dreadful day, she thought.

A tiny buzz of sound interrupted her pleasant thoughts. She cocked her head and listened closely, trying to pinpoint the location from which it came. 'No! It can't be! A look of surprise and alarm was on her face.

15...not strong...they await...

It was Bird! Sending a sing-song message to her. Untrained, her thoughts were broadcasting on a wide band. And they were strong and loud.

Pio risked a short, focused message, She was afraid that Gorthaur might sense her friend and send people to investigate, or worse yet,discover the source of the sending himself and clamp down on Bird with his mind.

Understood . . .no more sending . . .Danger

The night around her seemed to grow still. Pio relaxed her mind and heard no more from Bird, nor did she sense any interest generated from other quarters by the short message she had sent back.

She breathed easily again and allowed herself a small smile. Bird had a natural talent for osanwë! What a gift to share with a friend. Pio sighed, wishing this dreadful time to be over and quickly.

Mithadan would soon return to the ship. She swam back to it and climbed aboard to wait for him. He would be interested in Bird's message concerning the Men.

The gentle rocking of the ship in the river's current made her think of happier days - clear sky above her, a sturdy ship beneath her feet, the wind at her back, and good friends round her. Soon, she hoped. Soon.

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

Gamba awoke, and stretched, and got up despite the complaints of the children he had disturbed; it was time for breakfast. Phura stirred and sat up, and the children grumbled and resettled, huddling together for warmth.

Gamba turned, hesitating, before heading off to the breakfast line. Phura waited.

"She's different."

"Who?"

"Nitir. She gives answers."

Phura did not know what to say, and Gamba went off to breakfast.

[Rose Cotton]

At first her days in the locks were filled with worry. Doubts spilled into Anee's head from every direction. How could this work? What chance did they have? Why couldn't Nitir, Azra and all these other shadows of the past just leave them alone? But slowly as the days went by Anee grew bored of her anxiety and slipped into a depressed state instead. When she spoke with Daisy it was to discuss the plan for the hobbits to escape.

Now, however, Anee was jarred from her thoughts when she heard Daisy whisper "Pio, is that you?" Pio? Pio the elf? It couldn't be. Elves were just fairy tales the elders told. But then Anee heard a voice that she was sure did not belong to any hobbit. She crawled over to where Daisy sat and listened to the voice. It sounded soft and comforting in her ears like sweat music. After Pio left Anee turned to Daisy and said with new exitement, "So they really are real!"
"What?" said Daisy.
"Elves!" For hours Anee pestered Daisy with questions.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami awoke with a start the next morning. A loud 'neekerbreeker' was being broadcast directly into her right ear. She stretched and yawned, and tried to roll over again, hoping to fall back asleep.

The neekerbreeker chant continued, and indeed grew successively louder. She glared at Bird who now hopped down to perch boldly on her shoulder.

"You're too early," Cami grumbled to her friend.

The response came back clear and insistent, "Not if you want to go see Daisy. I've been blowing in your ear for the past ten minutes. I have managed to secure you a truly choice assignment that you will want to take advantage of. Both you and Rose."

"Where is Rose?" Cami mumbled.

"She's already up and in the breakfast line. There will be no breakfast left unless you hurry. I, however, will feast royally on the remains of the day, whether or not you get anything."

Cami wished she had a pillow to hurtle in the direction of this enormously cheerful and annoying insect. Upon hearing the warning about her breakfast vanishing, she did manage to stir herself off the ground and began looking for her clothes.

"My clothes, they're not here," she muttered in alarm, looking at the place where she was sure she'd left them.

The cheerful insect voice came back to her, "Oh, no, those were too good for the job you'll be doing." Cami wondered exactly what this new job might entail. The insect's words did not sound promising. She went over to the pile of tattered garments which Bird insisted she put on.

In a few moments, she dressed and propelled her body in the direction of the breakfast line where she picked up a small roll and a portion of mush. She saw a few folk were actually chewing on apples. Unfortuntely, it was too late to take advantage of that. The apple platter was empty. Tomorrow, she reminded herself, she'd do things differently.

Rose and Azraph were seated and nearly finished with breakfast by the time Cami joined them. An old man in rags sat beside them. It took her a moment to realize that the figure in threadbare pants and shirt was actually Loremaster who'd dressed the part in order to accompany them.

What was this important job? But when she asked Loremaster, he only smiled and told her she would see directly after breakfast. Then he handed her a shovel which she set down on the ground beside her as she ate.

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Phura, roll and apple in hand, joined them, sitting next to Azraph, smiling nervously and trying to look nonchalant. He failed. Loremaster growled at him. "Don't ruin our disguise."

"That's one of the reasons I came, " Phura muttered. "You'll have to put more dirt on them. Their skin looks too brown."

"Oh, " Loremaster muttered, glancing at the women. Phura was right, and he nodded at them. Nitir sighed, but being seated on the floor, she casually rubbed her hand in the dirt, and then itched her nose, her neck, her forehead. Azra's heart sank. "Get busy, " Nitir told her. She complied.

Phura stared at Azra as she did, and Azra scowled at him. "I suppose you think this is funny."

"No! I'm sorry. No, I don't."

Nitir frowned at her now filthy hands, and having no spoon, realised she had to somehow eat the mush with them. Perhaps she could scoop it up with the bread, holding the bread in ... her filthy hands. She sighed. "Come on, Rose, pretend you've got lice, and get busy."

"Eew, " Azra sighed. "Will you quit staring?" she hissed at Phura.

"Sorry, " Phura mumbled. Azraph squeezed Phura's hand, beaming at him, and Loremaster stifled a smile. Phura inhaled his beakfast and departed.

[Mithadan]

Mithadan swam slowly back to the waiting Numenorean vessel. Reaching it, he knocked on the hull to give warning of his presence, then clambered up to the deck. Piosenniel stood waiting for him.

"Is all well?" she asked. "Have the Elders approved of our plans?"

"Yes," he replied. "They have. And I have spoken with their captains about preparations and tactics. They are eager to make this attempt. I will wear red scarves about my neck and arms so they will not mistake me for a guard and slit my throat as well."

"Well," laughed Piosenniel. "That at least is good planning."

"Pio," he said. "It is as I feared. There are Faithful imprisoned here as well. But the Hobbits do not know how to reach them. It may be that they must die."

"I know," replied the Elf. "I have seen them." And, as Mithadan's eyes widened, she recounted her discovery of the door within the guard's alcove and Bird's message concerning the prisoners.

"You are a marvel," he cried. "Maybe they can be saved as well!"

"Maybe," mused Piosenniel as she brought up the anchor. "But the risk is increased if we do so. And what of Idril's warnings against attempting to change what cannot be altered? Consider this choice carefully, Mithadan."

"I have," he responded.

[piosenniel]

Isil cast a sheen on the waters, a silvery path leading them back to the Star. Pio stood at the helm, guiding the ship downriver. She had sent Levanto ahead to warn of their arrival in the Númenorean ship. Khelek and Veritas would not be pleased to see the approach of an unknown craft, and she did not relish the thought of Ancalimon firing shots across their bow with his pyrotechnics.

Mithadan sat in a chair at the bow, his feet propped on the railing. He had draped a clean blanket about his shoulders to ward off the chill of his damp clothes. He looked so tired, she thought, and weighed down with so many cares. She often longed these days to hold him close and tell him all would turn out well. But her heart misgave her when she thought of what might happen in the next few days, and she knew that he would see it. ‘Better to keep your fears to yourself, he has enough of his own.’ she told herself.

And now a new concern niggled at the back of her mind. He had set his course to set free the remainder of the Faithful in Númenor. He was resolved to do this, and she understood that no reasoning would turn him from it. A sudden laugh escaped her as she turned this worry over in her mind, trying to see her way through it. ‘By the One! The Man is as stubborn as I am!’

Since she could see no way to dissuade him, she thought then to make a plea for his safety to the Valar in the West, but she had always found them to be curiously reluctant to engage themselves for the sake of those in Arda. Their view, of how the affairs of the created should go, were often from a quite different perspective than hers - one which often offered no comfort to those involved.

‘The Valar help those who help themselves.’ had long been one of her favorite sayings. 'What would it take to swing the advantage our way?' she wondered. The Elf drummed her fingers on the wheel as she thought it through.

Slowly, her plan took shape.

************************************************** ***********

Day was just breaking when they reached the their ship. She hailed Veritas as they came up beside the Star and dropped anchor. Mithadan dozed in his chair, and she woke him with a gentle prod to his shoulder and a light kiss.

‘Come! We are back now.’ she urged him. ‘Go rest for a while. You have need of it, and time now for it. I will wake you should we need you.’

A clear elven light shone bright from her eyes as they stepped on the deck of the Lonely Star. And he wondered at it briefly. Then, tired, he went to his bed, and sleep claimed him.

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As soon as breakfast was over, Loremaster guided Cami and Rose into a side alcove where they could speak more freely. "The most important thing is that you manage to talk with the hobbits. Let them know who you are and why you're here." He looked straight at Cami, "What you said last night was perfect. Only it'll need to be...."

Loremaster hesitated. Outside, a guard strolled by. Then the footsteps halted. Suddenly Loremaster grabbed his shovel and dug a trench along the edge of the cave. The women picked up the cue and began digging.

The Man headed in their direction. His suspicions had been aroused by the guarded whispers he'd heard. He wanted to check on things. He eyed the three hobbits warily. Cami's heart began to pound. She kept her eyes down and said nothing.

"Are you supposed to be here?" came the rasping voice. "And what's this?" He pointed accusingly at the straggly ditch.

Loremaster mumbled some excuse which apparently satisfied the guard. He looked down at the hobbit and nodded his head, as if the words made perfect sense. "A trench, certainly. The prisoners will dump their garbage here after a meal."

He continued. "They made a big mistake picking you for this job. That one can stay." He pointed towards Rose. "You two, find something else to do. We need young, strong hobbits for such work."

Cami lingered for a moment in the alcove, reluctant to leave Rose's side. "Be gone, you old hag!" The guard glared at her and thrust a shovel in her direction.

"Old hag, indeed!" Cami grimaced. "We'll see who's an old hag two nights from now." But, fortunately, she said nothing.

Loremaster gently nudged the woman towards the main passageway, whispering in her ear, "Rose will be fine. We'll come back later, once things have settled down."

After a goodly number of paces, Cami couldn't resist turning around to stare. She glimpsed several hobbits with shovels gathering near the ditch, working under the direction of the same guard. When he saw her looking back, he raised his fist and shook it in the air.

As they hurried on, Cami said to Loremaster, "It was the same for us! No one in charge of the camp had the slightest idea what anyone else was doing. But they'd never admit it. They just played along. They wouldn't ask questions because they might look foolish."

There was silence between them until Cami spoke again. "What if, someday, Men made a big camp like this, and they did know what was going on? What if they kept track of things, and had everything perfectly organized?"

Loremaster stopped. His eyes were grey and sad. "Let's just hope we're not alive to see that."

A quiet tremor rose in Cami's heart, but passed quickly as Loremaster again responded. "Come. That's not our worry. Leave it for another Age. We've enough trouble on our hands."

"And, look, here's our first work area." He pointed toward a crowded sleeping nook still filled with hobbits leaving for their morning jobs.

"Exactly what do we do?"

"Garbage collection!" he pointed to a section where there were thick layers of straw, filthy and matted. A few flies buzzed overhead. The pails that had been placed there were by now overflowing.

"I was afraid of that," Cami sighed. If only she were a few years younger, she might be digging ditches instead. Then she laughed. "Where do we take it?"

"Out to the crop fields in these." He held up large cloth bags. "By the end of the day, you'll have seen every corner of this camp."

As Cami began her labors, she heard the tiny giggle of a neekerbreeker coming from just inside her collar. "She'll be sorry when I catch her in human form!" But even the hobbit had to laugh at the predicament she was in.

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As the day wore on, Cami found to her embarassment that she was doing more talking than working. Loremaster insisted she speak with as many hobbits as possible so he took on most of the chores. Only when guards unexpectedly appeared did Cami get down to the serious business of mucking out the caves.

All the hobbits had been warned about her visit. Wherever she went, they swarmed about, shyly asking her to kiss their children or tugging gently at her skirts to make sure she was real. Many asked where Azra was. Once or twice, guards gave her a curious stare. She tried not to draw attention, but it was difficult.

In the afternoon, Loremaster and Cami walked back to the place where they'd left Rose. The trench was coming along nicely. It had grown deeper and longer by a considerable amount. Cami shuddered at the thought of the large mounds of garbage which would soon be piled up in such an unlikely location. She shook her head to see the folly of it all.

Loremaster spoke with the guard who'd been there since the morning. He had placed himself in charge of the project. Now that the trench was finshed to his satisfaction, he agreed to let Rose return with them.

By late afternoon, Cami and Rose were finally on their way to the Locks, armed with shovels and cloth sacks. Arriving at the enclosure, Gamba barely tipped his head to them, enough to acknowledge their presence but not to alert the guards.

Rose went into the large communal cell. Anee stood by and held the sack open while she completed her tasks. None of these prisoners had been told of the rescue, but Anee whispered that she would do this the next afternoon. With guards so close, and no place to hide conversations, it was too risky to let the hobbits know earlier than that.

Cami had cleaned out Pansy's cell, and now waited impatiently for the guard to bring the key for the door to Daisy. He addresed her in a gruff tone, telling her to hurry about her business. Cami knew she would only have a moment or two, not enough for real conversation. But at least Daisy would know that she was here, and they would do their best to get all of them out.

Slowly, the door swung back and Cami stepped inside the dark enclosure. How very grim! When Daisy saw her friend, her jaw dropped open in surprise. Fearing that she might cry out, Cami ran up and placed a hand over her mouth.

"No, little one, sha, sha. We don't want anyone to hear." Few words passed between them. Daisy stood close, and lay her head on Cami's shoulder. The older woman hugged the girl tight, said how much she missed her, and told her not to give up hope. It seemed like only a few seconds before the key began turning in the lock. They quickly separated. Daisy looked at Cami with tears in her eyes.

There was little more that could be done to help until the rescue. But, before she left, Cami whispered under her breath, "Only a little longer. Just hold on!"

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Throughout dinner that night, Phura was staring at Azra, again. Azra glared at him, trying to decide whether to be amused or embarassed, and finally said, "What? What's the matter?"

"Forgive me, " Phura blushed. "I shouldn't stare. I just--"

Nitir smiled. "Phura, don't worry. We're just like you. "

"That's what amazes me, " Phura replied.

Nitir raised an eyebrow.

"All when I was growing up, " he stuttered, "I read about you. About Nitir and Azra. And I thought- I always wanted--"

They waited. Phura staring at the ground, fumbled for Azraph's hand, and then spoke. "I-- the-- the reason that I first fell in love with Azraph-- was, was that I thought she was well named. That her character resembled her namesake, " he said, now fully crimson. "And, and I was right. Azra, you are like her." He was quite finished now, and far too embarassed to even meet their eyes. Azraph smiled at him, cheerfully, and squeezed his hand, and he took refuge in her gaze.

Azra, also blushing, didn't know what to say, so Nitir spoke. "Well, then, Azraph must be quite a character. Does she give the adults around her headaches very often?"

"Cami!" Azra replied indignantly.

Phura and Azraph both laughed. "Sometimes, yes."

"Well, Rose, " Nitir smiled, "three thousand years can do a lot for a reputation, but they know you are an imp. You can't hide that."

Phura was now far too embarassed to sit still. He kissed Azraph's hand, took the remains of his bread crust, and fled.

Azra stared at Azraph, not knowing what to say. Azraph smiled back at her. "What's the matter?"

"Aren't-- are you upset?"

"What, jealous? No. I was jealous of the other girl at first. Daisy. But now I know better."

"You do?" Nitir replied, a little startled. Azra wasn't quite sure how to respond either.

Azraph looked confidently at Azra, and smiled, and shrugged. "He told me I don't have to worry. And it's true. You know, he's practically worshipped me for seven years now. Azra, you're a really, really nice girl, and I'm glad you're my friend, but-- in the end, to him you're just a legend." Azra's jaw dropped, and Azraph gave her a warm hug. "Cheer up. It's nothing personal. But I'm not afraid of you taking Phura away from me."

Nitir patted Azra's shoulder. She understood what Azraph was saying, but she wasn't quite sure that Azra would.

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Rose Cotton]

What Azraph said struck Azra hard. It wasn't that she was afraid she'd steal away Phura but the horror that she might never feel at home. Would she forever be just a legend. A person born from tales? Were Nitir and Daisy the only ones that would think of her as a real person? Of course there were the others on the Lonely Star who knew but it wasn't the same. No longer hungry, Azra left.

Unfortunatly, Azra was so deep in her thoughts that she took a wrong turn and found herself lost. She didn't fret about this though. Instead she aloud her curiosity get the better of her and she started to explore the tunnels. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she'd find her way back to a familiar place by morning.

[mark12_30]

ooc

[ October 25, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

Pio went looking to find Ancalimon. She had several things she needed to ask of him, and a few questions answered. Search high and low as she did,though, she could find him nowhere. She was down in the hold, thinking to find him there, when she ran into the two hobbrim children, Coral and Shell. They smiled prettily at her, and held their hands behind their backs.

Their smiles were disarming, and Pio smiled back at them. 'What are you two young ladies doing down here?' she asked, tousling Coral's hair, and all the while trying to see what they had hidden behind them. 'Nothing Pio!' they chimed in chorus, their brown eyes looking at her with innocence and a certain spark of impish delight.

The Elf crouched down on their level, and looked at them quite seriously. 'Now tell me true, you two. What are you doing down here?'

Coral looked at Shell, who shrugged her shoulders, and said 'Practicing, Pio!'

Pio shook her head. This was like trying to undo a very tangled knot. She arched her eyebrows at the two and asked once again. 'Practicing what?' 'What Ms. Birdie taught us, Pio.' cried Shell. 'This!' said Coral holding out her hand.

Pio gasped in surprise, and then laughed and hugged the two girls. 'No need to find Ancalimon now.' she thought to herself. 'Did you do this yourself?' 'Oh, yes, and we have some more!' Coral's smile turned to a scowl as Shell slapped her for telling their secret.

'Can you show me what you have?' The girls led her to a small area hidden behind some piled up crates. Pio clapped her hands in delight! 'And you say you made these. Can you show me how?'

Once she told them what she meant to do, she found them willing teachers, though quite exacting taskmasters for certain critical steps in the process. But when they were done, they patted her on the back, and said. 'Nice work!'

She then had them gather the materials she needed - a number of empty clay jars with narrow necks, some of medium size and some smaller. Grease, tar, pitch, a little sulphur, some resin, and lampoil were placed in that order in the jars. The jars were sealed with wax, and one of the girl's small incendiary devices secured to the neck of the bottle with a wrapping of string. By the time they were finished, they had ten of the larger devices, and twenty smaller, handsized ones.

When they had put away all their extra materials, she kissed them each on their cheek, and thanked them. 'This will be a great help to us when we go into the caverns.' she told them. 'You have done your part well!'

Then she threw an old blanket over the work table, and went back up to the deck.

[ October 27, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had gone to the main cavern to watch a few rounds of Candlestones. Despite the lively scene, she'd found her attention wandering. Maybe it was because so few folk were known to her. Families cheered heartily for one favorite or another. Cami had trouble remembering the names, and couldn't keep them straight in her head.

She noticed Gamba competing. He was doing well. The boy had a definite knack for standing out in a crowd. That could be a tremendous asset once he got out of here. In the confines of the tombs, however, Cami was less certain.

Rose had roamed off on her own. Cami hoped she'd be cautious, and find her way back in a reasonable amount of time. But exactly what did reasonable mean? Her own idea and Rose's probably weren't the same. She told herself to stop worrying so much, and set her mind on other things.

In any case, Cami understood the girl's compulsion to escape. She herself felt trapped. She wanted to run across a meadow with tall flowers or stare up into the sky and count the stars. How dreary the caverns were. Rocks and earth and darkness. How had Daisy stood it so long? Hobbits had mentioned that the weather in the caves stayed pretty much the same all year long. Dank and cool and shadowed, without a single breeze. Cami missed sunlight and trees and the sound of wind beating against a window. Even a good hard freeze would be better than this.

She decided to copy Rose's example, and try a little walk. Without knowing how or why, her footsteps led her towards the place where the river met the entrance of the cave. This was where they'd come last night. She remembered one of the younger boys telling her it was possible to swim in these waters. Few guards visited the area, and those that did sometimes turned a blind eye.

Cami glanced right, then left, but no one was there. She sat down on a large boulder which overlooked the edge of the water. First the socks came off, then her outer skirt, and the small vest that she wore. She slipped her feet into the water. It was definitely cold. But after the sameness of the tombs, it felt like a cool breeze on a hot day.

She slid off the rock into the river and began paddling about. Her first thought had been to stay in the shallows, and clean off some of the grime of the tombs. But she found herself swimming, seriously swimming, down the river in the direction of the current. Despite Piosenniel's insistence on air bladders, Cami had been swimming since she was a child, and had a sure, steady stroke. She flipped over onto her back and kept swimming on.

Then, suddenly, without warning, she came to the end of the cave. The abrupt disappearance of the cliff overhang was not what she expected. One more good kick and she was lying on her back in the water staring up at the stars. How incredibly beautiful they looked tonight! What enormous goodness they seemed to hold in the middle of this desolate place!

Cami felt content. She could have stayed like this for hours on end. Under the canopy of stars, she was a person, not a prisoner, not even a legend. Just Cami! And she thought with malicious delight, that no old hag could have done that swim.

But she could not stay out here too long. A few moments more and she resigned herself to paddling back, this time swimming on her side. By the time she reached the edge of the shore, she was tired and winded. But it was a good feeling. She shook herself off, and slipped on her outer garments.

As she was about to clamber down from the boulder, her heart fell to her knees. A tall spectre in grey stood just a few feet away. How could she have missed him? For an instant, Cami thought that her doom had been sealed. And she suddenly found herself less willing to meet her end than she had imagined last night. The figure came striding up and extended a hand to help pull her off the rock. His hood fell back. He grinned almost impishly and asked, "Enjoy your swim?"

Cami's eyes grew wide, "Ancalimon," she spluttered. "How did you get here?"

"This isn't the first time I've visited hobbits in prison, but I hope it will be the last. And I imagine I got here the same way you did. I came on one of the skiffs."

Cami was about to ask whether Mithadan had given permission, but stopped herself. What a ridiculous question! One of Nienna's retainers would scarcely need permission from either a Man or an Elf. If Ancalimon chose to take a skiff and sail it up the Siril, that was his own business.

The peddler continued, "I need to see Loremaster tonight. We have things to discuss."

"He knows you?" Cami's eyes were wide with surprise.

"We met only once, many years ago, before the rescue of the Stoors. That time I was dealing with the hobbit wise woman. Loremaster was just a young lad. In fact he was her student. But I can't imagine that he'll have forgotten what happened."

Ancalimon chuckled. Cami found it hard to imagine Loremaster getting into any trouble. But, from Ancalimon's tone and face, it sounded like a bit of mischief. Well, why not? Many of the hobbits seemed to regard her as a solemn legend. If they could see her past, they wouldn't believe all the mistakes and nonsense she'd gotten into one time or another.

"Are you going to talk to him about the things you told Rose and myself?"

"Yes, and other matters as well. That reminds me. Tomorrow the two of you will need to explain how the hobbrim will be helping those swimming in the river. Don't get into details. That comes later. Just let the hobbits know there are friends who live in the Sea who've come to help."

He slipped off his grey robe to reveal the garments of a merchant of Numenor. The guards were used to seeing such tradesmen and would not question his presence.

"There was one other reason I decided to pick this night for a visit. I have some stern words for a hobbit who was so distraught last night that she was broadcasting her feelings over half of Numenor."

Cami squirmed and looked uncomfortable.

The Man....," she blurted out. She was about to launch a lengthy explanation on the rescue of the Faithful, and the injustice of the world, when she was stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Enough! Cami, sometimes you think too much. And there are very few hobbits I would ever say that to. Know one thing. You have made the right decision. However hard it may be for you, do not remake it a hundred times in your head."

"It is not your place to judge the hearts of others, and the decisions they make. Leave the Man be! He is doing his best. The decisions Mithadan makes come from the mercy in his heart. You may be surprised to find that you will thank him someday. In any case, worry about your own path, and let wiser heads safeguard the fabric of time."

"Alright, alright, I'll try," she sighed.

"And there's something else." Ancalimon continued. Cami tried to slink down and make herself smaller, since she assumed this could not be good. "In the rescue, the youngest children will be going out in protected groups. There will be a number of such groups, who'll have to be led down to the river where the hobbrim will help them through the waters. You are to walk with the children, and if necessary fight for them. Make sure that every one gets through."

She thought a minute and asked, "Every one?"

He shook his head yes.

"But shouldn't I be in the Locks? What about Daisy? What about the other prisoners there?"

"They'll be fine. That is for others to do. It's your job to be with the children just as you were in Beleriand."

Cami laughed and shook her head, "To tell the truth, I find that easier. They're the only ones who look at me and see a plain, simple hobbit instead of a mysterious legend from ages past."

Then Cami spoke again. "Do you think if we finally get to the Third Age that the hobbits will stop treating me like a stick figure from the past? I hope so! I want to have friends and a life. And I think it's even harder on Rose. She's not the type to see herself as a legend." Cami waited for an answer.

Ancalimon looked her straight in the eye, and smiled, but said nothing.

More mysteries, always more mysteries, she thought.

They had finally reached the alcove where Loremaster slept. Ancalimon gave her a hug, and said he'd see her during the rescue. He turned to go about his business. Cami started to hunt for her own sleeping spot, when a voice boomed out after her, "And no more nonsense Mistress Goodchilde!"

Wearily, she agreed.

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

When the top ten spots that night were determined in Candlestones, the number one position was held, not by Gamba, but by Corby.
The applause was thunderous, and Corby stepped forward for a bow. Gamba stepped quickly to his side, and quietly challenged him again.
His challenge held no mystery, and with a broad smile, Corby glanced at his wife, who nodded. They stepped up to the line, and threw again.

Corby won again.

"Two out of three, " replied Gamba, undeterred.

Corby won the next round.

"Three out of--"

"All right, " Corby snorted, waving down the general laughter. "One more round. Everyone knows who won first place tonight in the real competition."

"Aye, that's right, " called several hobbits. "Humor the lad. You're all right, Corby."

Ears burning, Gamba took his place at the line, and cleanly missed. There was general laughter, but Corby stepped up to the line. He carefully met Esta's gaze, and then his own wife's gaze, and then coolly snapped the candle exactly in half. Gasps mixed with the laughter and the clapping, and some shook their heads. Several guards were indignant. But most of the older hobbits smiled.

Corby slapped the furiously blushing Gamba on the shoulder, saying, "Now can I go home to my family and get some sleep?" There was more general laughter, and the place broke up, with the guards settling their bets and bickering about whether the final challenges should be included in the monetary settlements.

Gamba, stung with shame, melted into the shadows and sat down fuming with his back against the wall. Esta gathered the candles and stored them for the next night, and watched him patiently for a while. The guards went back to their various posts, and the hobbits went to their sleeping spaces or snuck off to the mines to sharpen cheekpeices and visors. The main cavern went dark.

Esta quietly walked over to Gamba, sat down beside him, lifted his chin, and took his hands. "Thank you, " she said softly.

He buried his face in her neck for a moment. "I wasn't supposed to lose."

"I don't care about the game, " she replied. "But I don't think he wanted to kiss me, nor to make his wife watch him kiss me, either. Thanks for giving both of us a way out of that."

"I never should have put you through this in the first place, " Gamba replied, miserable.

She didn't disagree, but she held him in the shadows.

The main cave had been silent and empty for quite some time, before they heard approaching soldiers. They looked up, watching helplessly as an older couple was quietly escorted out at swordpoint. Esta and Gamba embraced again, sadly, hiding their faces from the thought of where they were going.

[ October 25, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[mark12_30]

As Nitir joined Azraph's family, she found Azraph sitting up, waiting.

"Nitir, where is Azra? Is she all right?"

"Oh, I'm sure she's fine, " Nitir replied, and started getting ready for sleep. A shadow crossed the entrance to the alcove, and Phura 's voice whispered, "Nitir! Isn't Azra with you?"

"No, " she sighed, "I'm not sure where she is. Exploring, I expect."

Phura's hand went to his brow. "Exploring. Great, that's just great. And exactly what--" and then he paused, and turned to Azraph. "You two are so alike. If you were her, where would you have gone?"

"You're far too worried, " Nitir soothed them, "She can take care of herself."

Phura obviously did not share Nitir's confidence, and waited for Azraph's response.

A slow smile crossed Azraph's face. "The Smithy, " she said, "or the mines. If not there-- then the old tombs." Azraph got up, smoothed her ragged dress and shook back her hair, and held out her hand to Phura. They melted into the shadows.

Nitir shook her head, and lay wearily down.

Phura and Azraph searched the Smithy, and the mines, and finally went through the tombs, but saw no sign of Azra.

Azra watched them go past from her hiding place, and wondered why they were out so late.

They went to the water's edge, but they did not find her there, either.

"You've got to get some sleep, " Phura finally told Azraph.

"I'm too worried, " she replied. They returned to Azraph's family alcove, and found that Nitir had gone. They sat waiting for her return. Azraph fell asleep leaning against the cave wall, and Phura sat and watched her. He was tempted to move her; but he had never touched her beyond holding or kissing her hands, and he did not dare now. Finally he woke her, and she went to her place and lay down, and he sat in the doorway and waited.

[ October 25, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Birdland]

"Dratted, wooly-footed, scatter-brained, little minx, I'll sing her a song she won't forget. Wondering off in these burrows without so much as a "by-your-leave". Get herself thrown in the Locks, she will, and it would serve her right. Rose! Rosie! Where are you? NEEK-BREEK!"

Two guards came creeping down the corridors. "You should be keeping your eyes open for more than insects, Hanos. Morgauth been on tenderhooks for the last week or more, and it isn't over a Neekerbreeker, I've heard."

"You hear too much," Hanos muttered. "It came from right over here. I'll get that little creeper this time, before that 'Neek-Breek' burst my ears. There!" Hamos swung a cudgel against the wall of the tunnel, which promptly broke with a thud and a crack.

His companion laughed and sneered, "That'll come out of your wages, mighty hunter. Did you get 'em?"

Hamos studied the broken pieces of the cudgel. "Not this time. I'll have one of those tunnel-rats make me another club. C'mon."

After the guards had passed, Birdie crawled out of the crack of the wall and continued her search - silently, this time.

[Mithadan]

Piosenniel, still smiling over the Hobbrim's handiwork, returned to the main deck. There she found Mithadan speaking with Khelek and Veritas.

"What shall we do with the Numenorean vessel?" asked Veritas.

"We may have use for it," replied Mithadan. "But in the interim, search it for weapons; knives, spears, harpoons, swords, axes. We have need of spears. There are two in the armoury and two harpoons stored below. We still have a handful of knives which are unspoken for. They should be crafted into spears as should the two stabbing swords in the armoury. There are two battle axes as well, but we have two wood axes on board which can be sharpened and made into weapons. Can you both work on this during the next two days?"

"I thought we were to rely upon stealth," commented Khelek. "And wouldn't it be best to simply scuttle the Numenorean ship?"

"We will act in secret as long as we can," answered the Man. "But at some point, the alarm will go up. Then we must hold the four entrance tunnels against any guards responding to the alarm. With the exception of the Locks tunnel, they are narrow so that only two or three may stand abreast in them. The best weapons to hold them will be spears for those standing in the opening and axes for those standing to the sides. We cannot rely upon your kindred from the West to have divined what weapons we need; we must have what we need ready if possible. Ask among the Hobbrim. They may have some sturdy blades available."

Piosenniel nodded approvingly. Then she scanned the deck. "There is a skiff missing," she commented. "What?" cried Mithadan, as he counted the small boats.

"Ancalimon cannot be found either," said Piosenniel. Mithadan relaxed upon hearing this. "I would guess that he has gone to the tombs to be among the Hobbits," he responded. "I trust him not to reveal himself."

"What about the ship?" repeated Khelek. "I would feel better if it were gone."

"As I said," answered Mithadan. "I feel we will have use for it. If it makes you feel better, once it is searched, we can move it away to the South and anchor it."

Khelek looked dubious but nodded...

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami awoke in the middle of the night and glanced towards the place where Rose should be. Still no Rose! If she wasn't back by dawn, the guards might go searching and throw her into the Locks. The crew of the Star didn't need that! Cami sighed and wished she'd paid more attention when Bird had come by earlier.

She suddenly heard a sad 'neeker-breek' near the entrance to the alcove. A moment later, Bird perched on Cami's collar and shared her disapointing news. She hadn't found Rose. There were few people wandering about at such a late hour. She'd barely managed to search beyond the central cavern.

Cami sat up and yawned. "Alright, alright. You don't need to ask. I'm coming."

The two began at the far end of the camp, checking the Locks and the smithy with no success. Then they pushed their way into the old tombs. A strange place to be in the middle of the night! They searched four or five chambers, and were about to leave, when Bird heard a tiny scratching sound from the end of the passageway.

It was one of the oldest sections in the tombs, where Mithadan had knelt to honor Elros. There sat Rose! She was on the floor of the chamber, her back leaning against a marble stone, her eyes intently focused on something in her lap. Cami peered at her. She could see that Rose's pen was scratching across a piece of vellum torn out of Idril's Daybook.

Cami stared, and stared again. She had expected to find Rose exploring or swimming or getting into trouble. But sitting in a secluded corner and writing? That was strange indeed.

Bird had threatened to do physical damage to the missing hobbit when she was found. But she too was puzzled. "What are you doing?" Her voice was insistent.

"I'm adding a page to our journal," Rose intoned and went right on scribbling.

Cami was curious, and asked the girl to explain.

"I've found something. Something important. Oh, Cami, you're going to be so proud of me. I figured it out on my own. Just like you've been telling me to do." Rose's face glowed with youthful pride.

"I know where we're going, and it's not what you think. The hobbits, I mean. All along, you told me we'd end up in the middle of the Third Age. But I don't think that's right." She turned towards Cami and brightened.

"Go on," Cami encouraged her.

"I was sitting next to all these old stones and runes, when I started remembering the clues we discovered. The things we found out when we first came on the Star. The riddles, and the pictures, and dreams. And something hit me."

"Bird, do you remember that place underwater that you and Kali discovered? Before it collapsed, you brought up a stone picture of Ancalimon. That little hobbit house was at the base of Minas Anor, on the very first level of the city. Then, I remembered what Cami told me. How the Men of Numenor sailed up the Anduin, and built the fortress of Anarion just one year after the flood."

"And I wondered, how could there be a hobbit house on the bottom level of the city with a picture of Ancalimon unless there were hobbits living there soon after the flood?"

Cami's eyes grew wider as she listened to Rose. She searched her memory to recall what Ancalimon had said to them. Now that she thought about it, he hadn't mentioned the Third Age. He'd only spoken about hobbits and hobbrim, and the choice they would have.

She assumed they'd be going to the Third Age, because that was the earliest recorded history. But that assumption could be wrong. The Star would never have come to Beleriand or Numenor if they'd only looked at written records.

"Rose, you may be on to something, but we won't know for sure until Ancalimon sets course."

She hugged the girl. "I'm proud of you for putting all this together. There's one more piece of evidence to support what you're saying. Remember the stone relief of the ship and the hobbrim you and Bird found on your tour of the city? That crumbling wall looked older than the Third Age too."

"If if I had to guess now, I'd say we're probably heading somewhere along the Anduin at the time when Anarion arises and also the kingdom of Gondor. That is, if we can fight our way out of this place!"

One thing still puzzled Cami. She was troubled by that house in Minas Anor. As far as she knew, except for Gondolin, her people had never lived in big cities. In forests, on river banks, and by wide green fields. Even in towns like Bree. But never at the heart of a great kingdom. What were they doing there?

When they'd first found the clues in Minas Anor, she hadn't thought twice. They'd been focused on gathering information that would tell them where to go. But looking back on it, she did have questions. A hobbit house in an ancient Fortress-City was a strange thing. But she said nothing to Rose about her doubts.

The two hobbits hugged, and walked back towards Azraph's family. Cami was so pleased with Rose and her discovery that she made Bird promise not to punish the girl.

Bird shook her head and waved an antenna in the air. "Hobbits!" she retorted, with a snort.

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Pio went below with Veritas to find the weapons they would make into spears. There were four long and two throwing knives, and the two shorter bladed, stabbing swords. They would bind these to the some of the staves they had also gathered, and sharpen the remaining four of the staves to sharp points.

Khelek had been sent to fetch a roll of rawhide stored in another section of the hold. This he soaked in a pail of warm water until it was soft and cut it into long thin strips.

They brought all this to the deck and Pio set the two to sharpening the blades to a razor sharp edge and point. Khelek, then, took each blade and bound it securely to a stave with the wet strips of rawhide, leaving them in the sun to dry to a tight, hard binding.

Last, they sharpened to a fine edge each of the spears, harpoons, battle axes, and wood axes. When they were done, there were sixteen sturdy spears, and four deadly sharp axes.

Mithadan had come up to inspect their efforts, and helped them store the stockpile of weapons in a secure area of the deck.

It was evening by the time all had been put away, and hunger drove them all down to the galley to forage for their suppers. Pio took Mithadan aside once they had gone below, and brought him to the area where she and the two hobbrim girls had been working earlier.

She explained what the devices would do. The smaller ones could be lit by a candle to their attached incendiary device and thrown at approaching troops to burst at their feet. The substances inside were highly flammable when exposed to the fire of the small incendiary and air. The sticky goo would spatter in a widely dispersed pattern and cling to anything it touched, including skin. It was very difficult to put out, and was known to burn at a high temperature for a long time.

The larger devices could be lit and several thrown across a passage way to form a wide, white hot firewall, as the oil carried the flames outward from the initial point of contact.

If he wished, arrows could also be dipped in this substance and once lit, fired at desired targets.

'Do you wish us to make more? Or do you think this will be enough?' she asked.

*********************************************

That night, Pio joined Khelek and Veritas in Khelek's room. She wanted to speak with them before the urgent press of battle preparation began. Khelek sat cleaning his sword and testing it's edge, while Pio quickly cleaned her mithril shirt of the remains of her most recent encounter and then looked to her own blade.

'What will you be doing once this is all done?' asked Veritas. She had cleaned Pio's knives and was now holding one up to the light, checking it's edges for knicks and burrs.

Pio looked toward Khelek, who had raised his head, considering the question. She saw an unmistakable longing in his eyes before he bent his head once more over his blade, polishing the already gleaming metal.

'What of you?' asked Pio, nodding back at Veritas.

'I do not know.' Veritas replied. 'I have grown weary of late, and can not see what more this world can hold for me.

'Nor can I.' came Khelek's quick reply.

Pio put down her sword, and spoke softly to them. 'I have been thinking on this. I wonder if you both might allow me to do something on your behalf.' Khelek looked at her questioningly.

'When I came to you as Tulë,' she went on, 'it was my intention to return to the West with the other Elves when all this was finished.' She looked down at the blade which lay across her crossed legs. 'Now my path lies in another direction, and that choice is closed to me.' She looked up, taking them both in. 'But it is not closed to you. And if you will, I shall speak with Idril and she will bear you back with her when she departs.'

Neither of the other two spoke, each lost in thought of what was offered.

'There is no need to answer now.' she told them. 'Think on it. Then come to me in private and tell me your decision.'

Pio gathered her shirt and weapons and took them back to her room. Once resheathed in her baldric, she hung them on a peg near her helmet. She looked about her. There were still feathers everywhere; there had been no time to clear them away.

'Happier times.' she thought to herself, and laughed. 'Perhaps we'll see them again.'

She closed the door firmly behind her as she left, leaving the weapons and the feathers to keep each other company.

[ October 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

Nitir and Azra returned to Azraph's alcove, and stumbled across a form sprawled in the opening to the doorway. Phura gasped and sat up, and then sighed. "Is she all right?"

"She's fine, " Nitir murmured.

"Goodnight then, " he replied wearily, and faded from view.

Azra blinked. "Was he worried?"

Azraph rolled over, sat up, and unceremoniously smacked Azra across her backside, and rolled over and went back to sleep.

Nitir got ready to sleep, but Bird couldn't resist, and hopped up to Azra's shoulder and hissed, "You could say that they were concerned."

[piosenniel]

OOC: morning of 21 Cermië

Angara flew down to where the Elf sat on the stern ‘Should you not be resting?’ she asked her. ‘It’s nearly dawn and you’ve kept me awake most of the night with your restless movements.’ She plopped herself down in Pio’s lap, her head raised, golden eyes regarding her friend’s face.

‘I’m simply not tired, Dragon. My mind is too restless and I fear that it reflects itself in the restlessness of my body. She scratched Angara absentmindedly on the bony plate between her eyes, and the dragon settled her head on Pio’s thigh. ‘I think I have fairly well sorted out what needs to happen during the rescue. And the sequencing for it, too. A big picture, of it, so to speak. But it is the sticking in of all the little details that has me worried.’ She sighed and shifted her legs under the weight of the dragon. ‘It is like trying to hold onto a slippery eel with one hand, almost impossible. And if not done right, the eel may turn round and bite you as it escapes your grasp.’

‘You worry too much!' humphed Angara. ‘Did you not tell me that Ulmo said the rescue would be successful if you were at the forefront? And did he not say you would come to no harm?’ She nudged Pio’s hand with her snout to encourage further scratching. ‘And besides, I will be there at your side, and watch out for everyone else.’ The dragon flicked her tail agreeably as the scratching resumed.

‘What an ego you have, Old One!’ laughed the Elf. ‘Yes,’ said Angara, fixing her with one eye, ‘almost as big as yours!’

‘I worry about the Hobbits as they flee from the caverns to the ships. Perhaps you should think about being there with them, defending them from the guards as they make their exit.’ Pio moved Angara off her lap and stretched out her numb legs. Angara moved her head back on the Elf’s comfortable thigh.

‘You don’t give the Hobbits enough credit for figuring out their own means of defense, Elf. I am certain they will rise to the occasion in their own fashion, and besides, the Telerin can be there to cover them with their bows. Just stick to what you need to do, and try not to go off on any of your harebrained ideas.’

‘I suppose you are right.’ returned Pio, snorting at this last characterization of her self.

The sun crept up over the eastern horizon. The moon and stars fled, and it looked to be the dawning of a beautiful day.

Pio heard giggling behind her, and turned to see the two Hobbrim girls standing there, a plate of fruit and bread in Coral’s hand and a cup of hot tea held by Shell. ‘What are you doing up so early?’ she asked them. ‘We’ve been up for a long time!’ came the chorused voices. They came round to stand in front of her and offered he the food and drink. ‘We saw you sitting up here with Angara, and thought you might like something to eat.’

She accepted the offering gratefully, and sat it down next to her. ‘I had hoped to see you two today, and thank you again for your help yesterday. I have figured out exactly where I will use our devices. They will be of great help to us.’ She drew them both down onto her lap and hugged them close. Angara humphed as her head was displaced, but Shell turned round and pulled her up between them.

Coral looked up at the Elf and chewed the inside of her lip, a tiny frown on her face. ‘We want to be there, Pio. To see what will happen!’ ‘Yes,’ chimed in Shell, ‘we want to see you slash those awful Men with your sword and kill them. Lots of them!’

She hugged them tight again. ‘Oh my little ones, you can’t be there. Your place is here - to defend the Star should it come to that. If you were there, you would be one more thing for me to worry about. Keeping you safe might cost me the ability to keep others safe. You would not want that, would you?’ ‘No.’ came their half-hearted reply. ‘But at least tell us about how you will kill those bad men.’ said Shell once again.

Pio’s face was grave as she answered them. ‘I do not relish the thought of killing anyone. It is a sad thing to take life, and the thought of it sickens me. Some of those I will kill tomorrow will not be much older than your brother, Coral. And many others will have wives and babies and perhaps even little girls like you at home.’ She looked away from their now solemn faces for a moment. ‘But it is a necessary thing that I will do. And I will do it as well and swiftly as I may.’ They wrapped their arms around her and hugged her back tightly.

They leaned back against her while she ate and drank what they had brought. She laid the plate and mug aside when she had finished and pointed to a place low in the sky. Their curious eyes followed the direction of her finger.

‘Look!’ she said. ‘The evening star still hangs on the horizon. Is that not a wondrous thing to see?’

[ October 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ October 27, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Loremaster caught Cami's eye at breakfast and beckoned her towards the passage indicating that she should follow. They quickly left the main cavern and made their way to a half-hidden nook outside the tombs. Here they could speak without guards hanging on every word.

"Ancalimon returned to the Star before dawn," Loremaster noted quietly. "I've asked Azra to come with me today. She and I will tell the hobbits about the river rescue and how the hobbrim will help them in the water."

"Do you have something I can do?" Cami asked.

Loremaster nodded. "For the next two days, I want you to work with the young children. Get to know them, so they'll feel comfortable with you. They need to learn to trust you and follow your orders during the rescue."

"It's not going to be easy," he continued. "Most of their parents will have gone off to fight. They'll probably be frightened. Some of them have no family left. They're orphans who've banded together in small groups to survive."

"Like the five boys Gamba and Phura take care of?"

He nodded towards Cami. "Yes. Some have been adopted by children barely a few years older than themselves. Others have been lucky to join families with real parents. We've tried to take care of them as best we could"

"How will the children get through the caves to the river?" It was one thing to talk strategy with Piosenniel and Mithadan on the Star. It was another to be sitting in the tombs, and actually plan how children of so many different ages could be conveyed to safety with guards on all sides. There were so many things that could go wrong.

Loremaster explained. "I'll be assembling and organizing the groups which will run the gauntlet."

Cami immediately interrupted, "Run the gauntlet? What's that?"

"Sorry. I keep forgetting you're from outside. We have our own words to describe the rescue," he laughed. "It means getting from the caverns down to the mouth of the river as fast as you can."

"We've even had games for the younger ones. The guards think they're childish play. But they're practice for the real thing."

He stopped a moment to assemble his thoughts. "I'll be organizing the groups, deciding who goes out and when. Those who are escorted to the river include the children, the ill or infirm, and mothers with young babies."

"What about the older hobbits, who aren't sick but who would have trouble racing through the caves at breakneck speed?"

Loremaster shook his head and sighed. "I'm afraid we have few of those left. So few that the children would probably have been the next to go to Gorthaur's temple. Some of the older hobbits will be escorted in groups. But there are some," and here Loremaster couldn't resist a smile, "who insist on being included among the fighting men and women."

"As far as your own duties, you'll deal only with the children."

Cami nodded, then inquired how many children would be running the gauntlet.

"If you include the mothers with babies, we'll have 14 to 15 groups, with about 15 or 16 children in each one."

"And the escorts?"

"That's where you come in. There'll be five escorts, fully armed. Each group will have an five escorts to get down to the river. Then the escorts come running back for the next group. Once you get everyone safely to the mouth of the river, you're free to board the ships yourself, or to stay and reinforce the fighters."

Then he added, "We're hoping to run the groups through the main corridor as quickly as we can. But we could encounter problems. Sometimes, we may need to send a single escort through with one or two children. We may have stragglers at the end, or the corridors might be so congested we can't push groups through. It's also possible there'll be times we rely more on deception and hiding than speed."

At this point, Loremaster handed Cami a large sling made of cloth.

"What's this?" she asked. She squinted down at the contraption. "I understand. For the littlest ones who'll have trouble making it by themselves." She threw the sling over her neck and tightened it to see how it fit.

"It's not going to be easy fighting with this on." Then she asked in an even voice, "What if some of the escorts are killed?"

"Then we'll send others to help," Loremaster responded. "Getting the children out is a must. They are the heart and soul of our people. If no one else makes it out of here, the children will."

"Like Beleriand?" Cami whispered, thinking and remembering.

Loremaster loked at her with gentle grey eyes and said yes.

"Anyway, we hope you'll be doing more running and escorting than fighting, but, yes, you may have to fight, sling or not."

"And Cami, there's one more thing. Ancalimon was insistent about this. He said you were to be in charge of counting the noses of the children who made it through so we'd know with certainty we had everyone out. Just in case."

"I must tell you truthfully. I thought one of the others should do that. You don't know these children as well as we do. But Ancalimon wouldn't hear of it. He said you could learn their faces and names in the next two days. Plus the others would help you. He was absolutely certain."

"And how many of them are there? The children, I mean." Cami countered.

"A total of 225."

Cami sat and thought a minute. So many children. Why would Ancalimon ask her to do this? Out loud, she said calmly, "If he believes I can do this, then I can."

"Good. And the other four escorts will help you. Starting right now, we're keeping the children together in one area of the caves. That's so we can move them out quickly on the night of the rescue. You'll be living with them day and night until they get out of the tombs. The guards won't pay much attention how we handle the young ones, as long as they get their work out of us. We are going to have the mothers come after dinner to tend the babies and spend the night. That way they'll be there when the rescue starts."

"It looks as if we're here." Loremaster pushed the door open. Cami gazed in amazement. She was greeted with the sight of well over two hundred children, ranging from tiny infants to about ten-years old. They were running and laughing in a state of disarray. Not a single guard was to be seen in the room. They obviously didn't consider it necessary to watch the children, as long as they kept out of the way of any serious work to be done.

She was suddenly surrounded by a swarm of little bodies, "Loremaster, Miss Cami," they squealed in delight. Miss Cami, however, could think of but one thing. How will I ever learn the faces of so many children in just two days?

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami walked into the room and smiled. The familiar bedlam of youngsters surrounded her. Even in these bleak surroundings, and with the uncertainty of the rescue, she could sense the childrens' warmth. She had't felt this hopeful since the night of stars and light when she’d left Tol Fuin.

Cami had been bitterly aware of her grief for Maura in recent months. His memory and essence hung over her like a specter, poignant and compelling. But there was something else she’d lost. Something precious she and Maura had shared. It was the children’s presence and affection in the Workhouse, which had first linked them.

How many times had they sat beside a child’s bed and worried whether the fever would break? How many times had they wept when a small body was laid into a grave? They hadn’t even spoken of their own feelings for each other. They didn’t have to. Their shared love for these little ones had bound their hearts together. These children looked and felt little different from those she’d rocked and hugged and grieved for in Dorthonion.

Somehow, on the Star, with her hectic plans and worries, all that had been forgotten. She’d been too busy to pay attention to the hobbrim youngsters when they came aboard. She’d left that task to Angara. Maybe something inside her wasn’t ready yet. But now, in the tombs, this place of terrible urgency, Cami felt their need and her own depth of caring.

A little blonde thing, one of the orphans, toddled up to her. The child couldn’t have been more than two. She clambered onto Cami’s skirts and snuggled close. “Snowdrop, my name is Snowdrop,” the girl lisped. Cami wondered what brave parents had chosen such a hopeful name in a place where snow never fell. She buried the child’s golden curls into her body and kissed the tiny blond head.

“Please,” she implored, “All these snow hobbits, and no snow. Let them see snowflakes someday. And, if I can, I want to be there too.” It was the first time for months that she'd felt a fierce hunger to survive, to push beyond the tombs and scratch out a life that held some meaning.

Cami glanced about the room. Many of the little ones looked happy and content, oblivious to their surroundings. They had pushed all the pain to the back of their minds. Scampering through the caverns, they played games and tricks on each other. They thronged about Cami’s skirts, tugging for her attention, laughing and hiding when she turned to kiss them. They were a joy.

But as Cami looked about, she saw others who did not look happy. One girl had her arms wrapped tightly about her legs. Her neck was bent over, her head buried deep within her knees. Another sat looking with blank, sad eyes. One boy, barely eight, stood by the wall, crying. Such sadness!

But, here in the tombs, Cami could do little to help. She and the other hobbits had to figure out a way to get the children through to the river. Tonight, the Elven ships would come and join the Star. Beyond lay freedom and a new home. Cami sat quietly in the chamber, one child on her lap, another crawling at her feet. She began thinking of all they needed to do to win safe passage for these little ones far beyond the caves.

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

(21 Cermië day)

Pio posted Khelek and Veritas to alternate the watch for the arrival of the Teleri. The Elven ships would make a southern approach to the Star, avoiding any contact with Númenorean ships sailing the western waters. She had asked that the Númenorean vessel they had commandeered not be anchored far south of their present position, as it would make the Telerin captains wary of approach. She dared not use osanwë to contact them.

Coral and Shell were sent to bring the Hobbrim to the deck. They drilled one last time before the rescue tomorrow evening, then stowed their weapons and the air bladders in a place on the deck that would be easily accessible to them. They gathered round her for final instructions.

All the Hobbrim would be on the first ship with her, she instructed them. They would enter the water immediately upon arrival. She pinned up a large map detailing the final position of the Elven ships, where the Hobbrim needed to deploy themselves to be most effective, and the point where the Hobbits would enter the water from the caverns. The faces of the Hobbrim were serious as they took in this information and the grim reality which would soon be upon them. A few minor questions on detail were asked and discussed to the satisfaction of the questioner. She told them that once the caverns were cleared and all hobbits were on board they must quickly get back on the ships, too, as she would shift them immediately following this.

One young Hobbrim asked how they would know the caverns had been cleared, their job done. 'You will look for Mithadan or me to enter the water. I will be the last one out. Then all that is left will be the dragons to do the final cleansing. When they have come back to the ship, I will shift us immediately. There must be no one off ship at this time.'

They dispersed after this discussion, the Hobbrim to lunch, and the Elf to find Levanto.

It was cool in the water, the motion of the waves enjoyable. She found him a short way from the Star, floating, and seemingly asleep. She paused for a moment, watching his form rock slowly up and down.

'I know you are there, Pio.' he said, opening one eye to look at her. He flipped over and dove beneath the water, resurfacing quickly beside her. They spoke at length of what he would do during the course of the rescue. She repeated her instructions that he must be on board when she arrived back at the first ship.

'I will wait for you in the water.' he told her. 'I wish to make sure you stay safe. We will swim back together.'

'As you wish.' she told him. 'Though I see no reason to worry for my safety.' She looked toward the south. 'There is something you can do for me now, if you will. I have set a watch for the Teleri. Would you swim out a little ways southward, to see if you might see them; then bring me news of their arrival?'

'As you wish, Pio.' He smiled at her and dove beneath the waters, heading south.

(21 Cermië late evening - the Teleri arrive)

It was just after sunset when Veritas came running to find Pio. Levanto had returned, saying that the Telerin ships were only a short distance now from the Star. Pio came quickly to the deck. She could just make out small dark forms heading north toward the ship's position.

Mithadan joined her at the rail. Word had spread of the elven ships' nearing arrival and all the crew had now come up to watch for them.

They were swift on the water. Graceful white craft that flew over the waves like great birds. There were twenty of them, as had been promised. Leading them was Tuor's ship, and Idril stood at the bow.

The Elven captains brought their vessels as near to the Star as possible and dropped anchor. A small skiff set sail from each ship, bringing it's captain to the Star. When all had come aboard, including Tuor and Idril, Mithadan and Pio greeted them warmly, then led them to a place cleared on the deck for them, that they might speak briefly of the plans for the rescue tomorrow night.

Each Elven captain had brought two additional crew members with him. Master bowmen - one to stay on the ship for defense and one to assist in the actual rescue process. Tuor had brought ten Noldor warriors with him, and spoke with Mithadan about where they might be best deployed.

Pio went round to each of the elven captains and introduced herself. She outlined her plans for the time shift to them, underscoring her need to be able to link with all of them easily. There was some scepticism among them concerning her ability to accomplish this, But Idril assured them of her capability. Pio told them all that she would visit them early in the morning, and form a brief link with each of them, so that they might get an impression of her when she reached to them. When she was done, she bade them goodnight, and left them to speak further with Mithadan.

She was tired, and went below to go to Mithadan's cabin. She had just gone in, and pulled off her boots, when there came a soft knock at the door. 'Come.' she called.

It was Idril who entered. She regarded Pio with great tenderness, and then came near to embrace her. She asked no questions, saying only, 'Your Mother would be so happy, Piosenniel, as am I.'

Pio smiled, and returned the embrace. For a long while they sat on the bed together, talking and laughing as if no grim thing would intrude tomorrow upon this happiness. Then Tuor called to Idril, that they should go back to their ship. Pio called out that she would see them both tomorrow, then lay down to sleep, and did not awaken when Mithadan, at last, came to his rest.

Mithadan's Post:

He did not sleep long; he could not. He awoke before the dawn and climbed quietly out of his bed. Smiling briefly at the still sleeping figure of Piosenniel, he dressed and took up his sword and a sharpening stone and slipped out the door.

Mithadan walked up the gangway to the main deck and stood for a moment, looking at the stars. Then he seated himself upon a barrel and began working on his blade. Yet even as he sharpened, his thoughts wandered to the north and the caverns beneath Meneltarma.

Snick, snick, snick. They entered the caverns and proceeded up the perimeter tunnels to the Locks. They freed the Hobbits and then passed through the door in the guards' alcove and freed the Men. Ushering the prisoners along, they proceeded back down the Locks Tunnel. Suddenly, from behind them came shouts. The escape of the Men had been discovered and guards had rushed through the alcove door and came behind them in the tunnel. Roused by the shouts, guards from the main cave assailed them from the mouth of the tunnel... He shook his head. They must bar the alcove door. Perhaps a desk and other furniture pushed into place and set afire with burning pitch...

Snick, snick, snick. They exit the Locks tunnel, sending the prisoners forward with escorts toward the River Tunnel. To the southeast, shouts were heard. The Guards' Quarters tunnel had been overrun and the 4 Elves who had guarded it had been slain. Their exit had now been cut off... He shuddered. The Guards' Quarters Tunnel was broader than the Western exits. Three Elves with spears should be posted there, accompanied by two Elves with swords or axes to the side, and bowmen behind...

Snick, snick, snick. The Main Tunnel had degenerated into a melee. Retreating at last from the Locks Tunnel, they attempted to slip to the side into the shadows as they moved toward the Western exits. A group of guards cuts them off. Pio is assailed by two swordsmen. He moved to help her and struck one down. She slew the second and continued on. He turned to guard the rear only to see a sword slice towards his face... He stopped sharpening his blade, and dropped his head to his hands. They could not plan for all ends. They could only do their best and trust to the assistance of fate and luck...

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[mark12_30]

Sharon's Post

Cami yawned and stretched. It was almost dinner time. Her day had been long and tiring. But more importantly, they'd accomplished many things.

She'd suggested the hobbits be assigned to their groups ahead of time. Each group was called by a special name, something the littlest ones could easily remember. The youngsters spent a portion of the day playing together in the squads, getting to know each other well. Cami invented several games to help the children assemble quickly and learn to listen for directions. The Rabbits, the Ponies, the Mice, and the Crows all vied for honors and applause.

Loremaster had tried to anticipate anything that could go wrong. Older children were to hold the hands of the younger. Mothers with babies acted as squad leaders, counting noses to make sure no one was left behind. Cami even managed to enlist two twelve-year old girls who'd been reluctant to join a killing platoon, but still wanted to help. They would run messages for the escorts, and make sure none of the youngsters straggled too far behind.

The other escorts had warmly welcomed Cami. Three were large and burly hobbits who were reputed to be the best fighters in the prison. If there was a way to get the children to the river, the trio of Bungo, Fulco, and Milo would surely find it, ramming through the hallways with spears and axes.

Loremaster had spoken the truth to her. The protection of the children came before everything else. Whatever the cost, the hobbits had vowed to bring the littlest ones to the safety of the Elven ships.

Cami was gradually getting to know the names and faces of many of her charges. But she alone could not do it. She would rely heavily on the others who'd been here so much longer, especially the young girls who seemed to know the name and family history of each child.

And there was one other decidedly bright spot. The fifth escort had turned out to be Esta, the lively girl whom Gamba so adored. She had been working with the children for some time. She had a voice as beautiful as a songbird, and could calm the most upset or terrified child. Cami was convinced that the youngsters, young and old, would listen and obey her, even in the tumult of the rescue.

Cami had thought to go with Esta to see the Candlestones competition, but her body felt as if she couldn't go on. It wasn't a bad feeling, just a tired one. Cami smiled as the young girl danced about the room, bringing peals of laughter to even the saddest youngsters. She gave Esta a hug and told her to be off to dinner and the games. She could go back to her family's alcove to stay the night and return first thing in the morning.

One of the men promised to bring back Cami something to eat. She'd relax in the room and wait with the children. Just as Esta left, the girl flashed a bright smile at Cami and whispered, "Tomorrow, the ships will come, and I will be free."

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[mark12_30]

That night, the contest came down to Gamba and Azraph. Gamba's lucky rock availed him little, and to his chagrin, Azraph's skill availed her much.

Azraph danced gleefully around the remaining lit candle, still held by Esta. Laughing, Esta put it down, carefully, and they joined hands, and danced a little more.

Gamba laughed, grimly determined this time not to show his disappointment about losing, and relieved for Esta's sake that he had lost to a girl. Phura smiled; if Gamba's laugh was a little forced and sharp, Phura could forgive him for it. Azraph was radiant, and Phura was very proud of her.

Azraph came to meet Gamba, who congratulated her heartily, and shook her hand and placed a kiss on her cheek. Suddenly Phura paled.

The champion's kiss.

Azraph looked at Phura, and saw that the blood was drained completely from him and he was wide-eyed. He wasn't prepared. Had he not believed that she would win? she wondered, and then realized, that wasn't the point. His modesty was too strong for a kiss in front of hundreds of carousing hobbits and a guard of leering men.

She walked back behind the candle, and raised her hands. A hush fell immediately. "At last, I celebrate victory, " she crowed, and a thunderous roar went up. Several hobbits began a chant of "Phu-ra, Phu-ra, " but she waved her hands and silence fell again. "For tonight, like the ten finalists, I choose to be content with having proven my skill." A murmur of surprise went around, but one look at Phura, and her reason became clear. Many nodded. Some of the guards laughed, but a few remained silent. Phura began blushing furiously.

"However, " she continued, "I do claim one other compensation. I want your lucky rock, " she said, extending her hand to Gamba.

A roar of laughter went up, and the attention shifted to Gamba, and Phura breathed a sigh of relief. Gamba relinquished the rock.

The guards began settling their accounts, joking and laughing, and praising Azraph's marksmanship, and Gamba's defeat. One of the soldiers that had been sitting in the rear stood, and pulled his cloak tighter around him, and walked out. Those sitting around him wondered why Captain Tarkil had come down and never placed a single bet, but they shrugged it off.

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Mithadan's post:

Even before breakfast, Mithadan met with the Elven captains and warriors. Several of the Teleri were called upon to copy the maps which had been prepared by Piosenniel of the caverns and tunnels beneath Meneltarma. Names were filled in on the maps to indicate which warriors and archers would be placed at the various key points.

Three of the Noldor would be stationed with spears at the Guards' Quarters tunnel to the east. They would be accompanied by two Elves with axes and two bowmen to protect the Main Cavern from attack through that critical tunnel. Six Teleri armed with bows would wait at the River Tunnel to cover the escaping Hobbits.

The Graveyard and Front Prison Entrance Tunnels would each be manned by two Noldor bearing spears, accompanied by two other warriors with axes or swords and two bowmen. Mithadan and Piosenniel would assail the Locks with their rear protected by bowmen and two swordsmen. This left the Hobbits' quarters and the Main Cavern to be secured by the Halflings with such additional aid as could be spared from the tunnels.

Altogether, the rescuers were spread very thin and would have to rely heavily upon the zeal and anger of the Hobbits for the plan to work. Several of the Elves murmured in concern about this aspect of the plan. As a result several additional Teleri volunteers were found to assist the Hobbits with their long knives and throwing weapons.

After this meeting, Mithadan and Piosenniel ate breakfast together in silence. At first, neither could meet the others' eyes. On this day their fates would be determined and Ulmo's prophecy bound or unwound and neither could predict how matters would proceed. But halfway though the meal, Mithadan put down his fork and knife and seized Piosenniel's hands in his. He kissed her fingertips, then reached out to caress her face. No words were exchanged; none were needed. Piosenniel kissed his palm and then their eyes met at last and each nodded, understanding fully the emotions and concerns of the other. Then they returned to their meals and the duties of the day.

[ October 29, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[mark12_30]

After everyone had dispersed, Gamba gave Esta a wry, disappointed look. "No kiss again tonight."

She returned the wry look, but hers ended in a delightful smile and a conspiratory whisper. "Take me swimming."

"Now? Tonight?"

"Show me the stars."

She took his hand, and led him toward the tunnel, Gamba's heart racing out of control. They walked hand in hand down to the waters' edge, jumping in fully clothed.

They swam down the long dark tunnel side by side. Gamba felt the grime of the caves rinsing off of him, and then they came out under the starry vault. Esta gasped, he pushed her gently to the shallows, and for a while they just stared.

She climbed up onto the grassy bank, feeling the moist dirt and live greenery with her hands in wonder. Then she sat down, and beckoned him; he followed as if in a dream, and sat down beside her. She shifted, leaning back towards his lap, and lay in his arms, gazing up at the sky.

He gazed down at her, studying her in the starlight; her skin was now quite clean, and glistening, stark lily-white against her dark hair that was swept straight back from her face. Her deep brown eyes reflected the starlight. He thought that he had never seen anyone or anything so beautiful, and then he smiled at his own sappiness. Part of him wanted this moment to last forever; and the other part replied, Don't be an idiot; freedom comes tomorrow night.

He tore his gaze from her long enough to look down the river, and wondered how close the ships would get, and what it would be like to be on one. Then his eyes returned to Esta lying in his arms; and he simply watched her breathe.

She lay peacefully for a while, and then stirred and sat up. "We should go back, " she said. "We'll see the stars again."

They returned to the water and swam back into the caves.

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Gamba and Esta paused, dripping, by the study. The Study Guard was nearby, but he studiously looked straight ahead.

"Aren't you going to walk me all the way to Elder Tura's alcove?"

"Yes, " Gamba replied, "But I'm going to kiss you here, not there."

She smiled, and returned his kiss, and the ones that followed it; Gamba was tempted to hold her all night. He finally let go of her, and they walked towards Elder Tura's alcove.

He said goodnight to her ouside the alcove, wondering why it was so quiet within. As he walked away, he heard the ring of steel. He thought, Tuka, be careful; you shouldn't be sharpening blades here.

Then he heard Tuka's voice, and he jumped and turned; Tuka was angry, and voices were hushing him.

The selection.

Who was it?

He saw the guards on their way out of the main cave, and then he saw who they were escorting.

It was Esta.

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[mark12_30]

Even as he realised who they had taken, Esta and the guards were gone. Gamba drew breath to cry out, but a large hand clamped over his mouth, and a sword was at his throat. "Don't be stupid. She's gone and there's nothing you can do."

It was the Study Guard.

Tuka had no such constraint, and he came barreling out to find Gamba. "This is your fault," Tuka raged. "You drew attention to her! They never would have chosen her if you had left her alone! You did this to her!"

Elder Tura came out and tried to subdue Tuka, but only succeeded when the Guard pointed his blade at Tuka. Azraph came timidly out, weeping, and Phura emerged from the study, as did Loremaster. Nobody else came out, although many eyes peered around the corners.

The Guard waved his blade at Azraph and Elder Tura. "Back to your beds. It's over." And then he hustled Tuka, Gamba, Phura, and Loremaster back to the study. Tuka numbly wondered why he was included.

The Guard made a show of waving his sword at the hobbits, and they submitted, and he lectured them quietly. "It's over, " he repeated softly. "There's nothing you can do. She'll be dead by sunrise."

"You know what happens?" Gamba asked, in a small frightened voice.

"Yes. And you don't want to know. Better to get there when she's dead, than anytime after the torture has begun."

"I could die with her, " Gamba replied, working up some defiance although he was shaking with terror, and the guard nodded wryly.

"No, Gamba, " said Phura, but dared say no more.

But the Guard gave Gamba's reply some more thought. In a couple of days, the inhabitants of the caves were going to be exterminated anyway. The boy could stay here and be trapped like a rat and die ignominously, or he could die fighting for his doomed girl. The guard nodded again, thoughtfully, knowing which way he would choose for himself, and looked at the little hobbit. "Do you mean to try?"

"Where do I go?" replied Gamba, still shaking like a leaf.

"You'll need to steal a horse, " he said. "Go out the side tunnel, past the graveyards, and bear left; and when you get to the pens, steal the reddish brown horse with the white face. He knows the way; he'll take you there. Mind that you turn him loose before you get to the temple. From there you're on your own."

"I'm coming, " said Tuka, looking at Phura.

Phura swallowed hard, and reminded himself that this was Esta, and how he would feel if it was Azraph; and despite being badly shaken, he replied, "We need you both. But now that you know what to do, you can't fail to go."

Both Tuka and Gamba looked Phura in the eye, and understood; neither of them were to throw their lives away; they were to return, and help with the escape tomorrow.

The Guard returned to his post, sheathed his sword, and looked straight ahead. Two shadows slipped out of the study, and melted around the edge of the main cave, and disappeared.

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[mark12_30]

They found the horse pens quickly, but there was a problem; the guard was fully alert, and meandering around among the horses. There was no way to steal a horse without him noticing. Tuka and Gamba looked at each other, puzzled, and then with a shrug, Gamba straightened his back and marched up to the guard on duty and brazenly announced to the guard that he had directions to take the white-faced horse and go to the temple. Tuka followed him hesitantly.

The guard looked at the two of them and gave a bitingly ironic laugh. Four hobbit sacrifices today, not two, he guessed, and waved them on. The horse was old, and steady, and gentle. The Guard got some amusement out of watching them clamber bareback and bridle-less aboard the large horse by chinning themselves on his mane and sliding to his back. Then the horse swung onto the path, and broke into a steady canter with Gamba hanging grimly onto the mane and Tuka behind him. The guard, shaking his head at the hobbits' stupidity, closed the gate after them.

The horse cantered steadily, but slowly, halfway to the temple, and then broke into a trot; feeling the hobbits bounce uncontrollably on his back, he sensibly slowed to a walk. They succeeded in getting him back to a canter twice, but after that he walked again. They were close enough. They slid off, and the horse wandered away, and they turned toward the huge, circular temple. It stood five hundred feet tall, and they would have been amazed at it. But they heard a scream, and then another, and they did not stop to look at the temple, but ran towards it.

They slipped inside the door, ran through the fifty foot tunnel and into the temple, stepping quickly to one side of the door. They were unmolested and unnoticed, for all eyes were on the four bound and screaming sacrifices. No one paid the doorway any attention. The other hobbit, Banin, was one of the stout blacksmiths, and a favorite with Tuka's younger siblings; Banin and Esta were already bloody. Gamba's mind was replaying the words of the guard over and over again: Better to get there when she's dead than anytime after the torture has begun.

They could see that the torture had started with a cruel, slowly fatal stroke. They would slowly die even if nothing more happened to them. Gamba and Tuka were already too late.

But the tormentors did not leave the victims alone, and their suffering was protracted and horrible. Gamba and Tuka would long be haunted in dreams and in waking by the blood and the screaming and the unimaginable cruelty. They waited for the hobbits to die, refusing to leave, honoring them and wishing that they could somehow comfort them by their presence. When Esta finally died, and then Banin shortly afterwards, they did not move at first, but then Tuka came to his senses, and pulled Gamba after him, stumbling unnoticed and unmolested back through the tunnel and outside. Apparently, no guards were deemed necessary during these ceremonies.

The sky in the east was starting to grow less black. They crawled, numb, into a hiding place and sat, sometimes staring, sometimes weeping, for half an hour. And then they got up, and began walking back towards the prison. Out of the gloom, the faithful old horse snorted, and walked towards them, and nuzzled them. They pushed and pulled it towards a rock, and clambered on, and the horse walked slowly back to the pen by the prison. The boys' minds were still filled with, and overwhelmed by, the horrors they had seen, and forgot that the horse was supposed to be turned loose instead of returned to the pen. Before they realized it, the horse had arrived at the pen, and stopped.

There was a different guard at the pen when they arrived. The guard stared as they slid off, and he put the horse into the pen. The boys went back into the cave. And the guard watched them go, and took careful note of whose horse they had ridden.

(OOC: it is now morning of 22 Cermie before Dawn.)

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Gamba straggled in before breakfast, and Phura took one look at him and took him in his arms, and together they wept. Gamba could not eat, but went to the food line to collect extra food for the prisoners. Many hands stroked his shoulders and ruffled his hair, and he drank the support, and then headed up to the Locks.

Tuka could not eat either; instead of going through the breakfast line, he went out to the graveyards and sat and watched as the last shovelfuls were piled on the two hobbit graves. He went to the men, and they pointed. "Male; female." Not even their names, Tuka thought. He stood by Esta's grave, unable to weep, numb with the horror still.

The other gravediggers began their work, and Tuka listlessly took up his pick and started to swing it; he progressed fairly well, and escaped the whip for the first part of the day.

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Sharon's post

That morning, Cami was expecting the arrival of Esta who'd promised to pick up breakfast and bring it along with her. The five young boys--Maura, Ban, Asta, Roka, and even Kesha--had spent the night in the children's room when Gamba and Phura had failed to come back. Now, they waited eagerly, thinking they'd see one or both brothers before the start of the day.

But as the minutes went by, none of the three appeared. Cami began to fret, wondering if something had happened to the rescue plans that had detained them all. Her answer soon came in the person of Azraph. The young woman was crying. She stood in the doorway, barely able to talk.

Cami went outside to speak with her. Slowly, the tangled tale came out. With halting words, Azraph told of Esta's torture and death. For a moment, Cami felt the world spin round. Not this, not her. It could not be. They were so close to the rescue. Why now? Why not one day later, so they could have done something to help?

Azraph excused herself to return to her family. Cami gave the young woman a hug and whispered her sorrow and regrets. Before Cami turned back to other duties, Loremaster came into the room, "We can not hide this from the children." he sighed. "It is all over the caverns. The grieving runs deep. Until now, the younger ones were spared from the temple. That is no longer true. People mourn for Este, and they are afraid."

"But what can I tell the children?"

"Tell them what happened in simple words, but tell them with gentleness and love."

She nodded and wondered where the words would come from. She felt no gentleness or love, only anger and grief. But despair would lead nowhere. Whether Esta lived, whether Cami herself survived, these children deserved life and hope.

She spoke first with Gamba's five adopted boys. Kesha insisted on going to see the place where Esta's body was. Cami promised she would take them, after speaking with the other children. There was so much death here, worse than Beleriand. She could find no reason to refuse their request. And she herself wanted to go to the grave. The girl had been such a joyous gift. The five boys pulled apart from the others, sitting by the doorway, waiting for Mistress Cami to come with them.

Cami fought for words to honor Este and explain things in a simple way. She told the children that their friend would not return again. The guards had hurt Esta so badly that she had died. She had loved them very much. They could cry and be sad, but they mustn't forget her love or caring. Not now, not later. Those good things must live in their hearts.

What else could she say? The children were too little, too fragile, to be told the whole truth. But neither could she lie to them.

A moment later, Loremaster returned to be with the children. Some of the older ones were crying. They looked afraid. The youngest had heard the words, but did not understand them. But even they could feel the sadness in the room. Loremaster set two of the little ones on his lap, and began to rock them as Cami and her boys made their sad passage out the door.

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

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When Gamba was finished serving breafast and sweeping straw up at the Locks, he came out to the graveyard, and the guards watched him come, and said nothing. They had all heard, from the evening-shift, of the games, and the champion, and the candleholder, and her final fate.

Gamba came to Tuka, who rested the pick for a moment, and he said, "You were right. It was my fault, Tuka. I did do this to her."

Tuka watched him, not saying anything, and the silence was like lead between them.

Gamba turned, taking in the sight. Graves, graves, graves. "Which grave?" Gamba asked, and Tuka pointed. He walked over to Esta's grave, and looked down at it, and saw that the soil was still moist. Tuka resumed swinging his pick, joining the others. Three picks, three shovels. The sounds they made echoed in Gamba's soul and pulsed in his blood. He knelt, and bent forward, grasping handfuls of the soil, and pressing his forehead into the earth that covered the grave.

Out of time with the swinging picks and shovels, a lullaby unbidden echoed in his mind.

Beneath the stars, beneath the earth,
Your lovely form lies sleeping;
Your face so sweet, your limbs so fair,
Your heart, where mine is beating...

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Sharon's Post

Gamba turned to walk away. His head was down. His eyes saw little. But, beyond the field of death, came another figure in grey. A woman who looked old and tired beyond her years. Beside her was a small band of children.

Maura was strapped in a sling on her body. Ban held tightly to her hand. Roka and Asta walked together, arms wound about each other's waist. Kesha, the eldest, went first. He clutched a bedraggled sprig of flowers which they'd found near the edge of the field in a tiny patch where shovels had not yet dug.

The woman fell on her knees before the soft brown earth. She stared into the distance, seeing nothing beyond her own grief and images of children who'd once been slain before her eyes. Kesha bent down to lay his few yellow buds at the foot of the grave.

They were so silent. Gamba would never even have heard them, but for Maura's wailing. The toddler would not be consoled by Cami. He cried out with childlike fierceness, "Gamba, Gamba, come back."

Gamba turned dead eyes to the children. "Why are you here?" He sounded harsh and frightened. There were no tears in his eyes.

Kesha spoke first, "We want to honor her. She was our friend. And we love you."

Gamba's eyes did not soften.

Cami tried to explain, "The children's room weeps today. They all remember the lilt of her voice and her gentleness. Every one of them wanted to come. We couldn't do that. But those closest to you, I would not stop. Nor did I want to."

Cami hesitated and began to cry. There was pain in her voice. "I am truly sorry this has happened. That we could not have come sooner and stopped all this." Her words trailed off.

Gamba's eyes softened slightly. He said nothing, but a single tear ran down his cheek. He went over to kiss each of the boys, then turned and walked away. The sound of Maura's wailing followed him as he made his way from the field.

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

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Gamba straggled back up to the Locks, where Anee eyed him nervously as he served lunch. "Are you all right?" she asked him, and he shook his head, and could not speak much; but he managed to tell her, "They took Esta last night."

"I'm sorry, " she said, and she spoke some words of comfort. She pressed Gamba's hand, and said, "Can you still work?"

He know she meant, on the escape, and he nodded, numbly. "Yes." He patted the two little children on their head, and rubbed their shoulders.

But Anee had a point, and he finished his chores and then went back to Gammer Pansy's cell, and just stared at her. She was shivering, and rheumy-eyed, and she squinted, wondering why he was there; she had her water and her lunch.

He willed himself to think of her, and filled his eyes with her. She could be my mom, he thought. Mom might be like her if she had lived.

And there were the boys; Kesha, Asta, Roka, Ban, Maura. Grimly he lectured himself, to remember everything and do what he had to do.

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[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami

[piosenniel]

Sunlight poured in like thick honey, bright and sweet, filling the room. It called her up from darker visions of smoke and blood and screaming. She sat up in the bed, hugging herself to drive away the chill of those desperate dreams. Her eyes accustomed themselves to the light, taking in the comforting ordinariness of her surroundings. A small laugh escaped her.

They were neither of them given to tidiness. Books and charts lay piled in discrete, accessible heaps on the desk and chairs, overflowing here and there to the floor when researched topics required the obscure footnote of some minor text. Slender ribbon slips of paper fluttered from between the pages of many of the books and journals like small banners noting important finds, the hurried script of Man or Elf their scrawled insignias. Maps and charts were pinned randomly to the available wall space, their surfaces dotted with notations. A few ink sketchings of Daisy, and the Star were pinned near the porthole, and a lone detailed study of Mithadan’s hands she had done one night as he lay sleeping.

Pio’s shirt, cast off for sleep, hung precariously from the footboard of the bed, threatening to slide off and join the leggings piled on her boots. Reassured by the presence of this familiar clutter, she yawned and stretched, unwinding her self from the entanglements of the bedclothes, and got up to face the day.

She was in the galley, rummaging for some dried fruit, and sipping on a mug of tea, when Kali came in. He greeted her, and motioned her to come sit with him as he ate his breakfast. ‘I am glad to see you, Kali.’ she said, as she sat down by him. ‘I had wanted to speak with you before the rescue got underway tonight.’ He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

Pio spoke to him of their plan to free Daisy from the Locks. At the mention of her name, his eyes blazed. The Elf put her hand on his arm, and told him that he was to come with her and Mithadan for this part of the rescue effort. The Hobbrim’s eyes filled with hope and eager purpose. She admonished him, to keep his head about him, to be steady, and to follow the direction of her and Mithadan during this time.

‘It will be a short, fierce encounter, Kali. And you will fear for the safety of your loved one, as will I. But you must follow our lead, so that we may operate as an effective team to bring her and the others to safety. Can you do this?’ The Hobbrim looked at her steadily, and said clearly that he could. She took him to her room, then, and gave him the short sword that had been her birthday present to Daisy. ‘Give this to her, when we have freed her. You will find her an apt bladesman as she fights by your side, a welcome companion and defender.’ She smiled to see his face flush at the thought of himself and Daisy fighting side by side. Then she kissed his brow to drive away, for one brief moment, the darker thoughts of danger. She left him to go about his business, saying that she would see him this evening on the lead ship.

Angara was next on her list of people to see. She found her on the deck entertaining the smaller Hobbrim with a game of hide-and-seek. They protested when Pio took the dragon from them, but she promised she would soon return her to them. She led the dragon below to where she had stored the clay devices she and the Hobbrim girls had made.

‘What is all this?’ asked Angara? ‘Have you taken up some strange new hobby involving pottery and firecrackers?’ Pio explained the purpose of the devices while the dragon nodded her head in growing appreciation. ‘I had not heard of these before. What do you call them?’ she inquired when Pio had finished. The Elf smiled at her flatteringly. ‘Dragon-fire.’ she responded. ‘A good name is it not?’

‘An excellent name!’ said Angara. ‘But I am still unclear why you have called me down here.’ Pio explained that she would distribute the smaller jars to the Elves who would come into the caverns, keeping some for herself. ‘But I need you to carry these larger jars to the Locks area for me. Once in place and lit, they will provide a smoky firewall to effectively slow the advance of the guards on us as we retreat from the area. ‘And how am I to carry them for you?’ Angara asked further.

‘We can help you figure that out!’ came the voices from behind them as the Elf and dragon pondered the problem. ‘We know where the fish net is kept, and the extra rope, if that would help.’ The two of them turned to see Coral and Shell now standing behind them.

Angara looked at the two girls, and smiled a toothy dragon smile. ‘Leave us to this problem, Pio. I believe my two able assistants and I can come up with something appropriate to the task.’ The Elf gave the girls an appreciative smile and left them to the supervision of the dragon, smiling. ‘She thinks she will supervise them!’ she thought to herself , laughing. ‘I wish I could see her reaction when faced with their firm ideas on just how a thing should be done.’

Pio’s last visits were to the Elven captains. They had all gathered on Tuor’s ship, for which she thanked them. She asked if they had any questions about the plan that Mithadan had presented to them in brief last night. They told her ‘no’, that their roles seemed clear to them, and that they had determined the order of their ships for advancing upriver.

The lead ship would be captained by Fallinelë, and he stepped forth to greet her. They spoke briefly in Telerin. She said how grateful she was that one such as he would bear her and her companions in the forefront of the battle. Then she went to each of them, touching them one by one on the arm as she made a brief mental connection to them.

She smiled when she had finished, refreshed by the brightness of their thoughts. ‘Beautiful to behold are the foam-borne flowers of the Lindar!’ she exclaimed. In turn, they bowed to her, then took their departure, each to his own ship to finish what preparations might be left.

Pio stayed a while, speaking with Idril and Tuor. She asked that Tuor keep his ship by the Star, and that Idril stand ready for her when she closed the link to time shift – that she would rely on her to give the signal to Veritas, should that be needed. They wanted to know all that had happened since last they had seen her. Long ago, that seemed to her, when she had been Tulë, returning to aid the companions on the Star. They listened quietly as she told the story of herself and of Mithadan and their growing affection for each other.

Idril took her hands in hers, ‘But that is not all there is to this, Piosenniel? And affection is a pale word for what I see in you.’ ‘Love, then, if you will.’ said Pio. ‘We have joined our courses, and I have made my choice for him.’ ‘But where are your rings, Pio?’ asked Tuor taking her hand. ‘I see none here, nor did I see one on Mithadan when we spoke last night.’

‘Ever the traditionalist, Tuor!’ she laughed. ‘We have had no time for the exchanging of rings as yet. And I fear it may have to wait until I can have one made for him.’ Idril gazed at her, eyebrows arched in further question. Tuor looked between the two, a puzzled expression on his face.

‘Relent, Pio.’ spoke Idril. ‘Confirm what I suspect.’ Pio laughed. ‘As you wish!’
She took both their hands and laid them on her belly, briefly. Looks of delight filled their faces, and they kissed her on her cheeks when she broke the contact. She relished the brief time she spent talking with them. It dispelled the thoughts of that dark, grim time that would soon follow. When she rose to leave, Tuor bade her stay a moment, then pulled Idril aside and spoke quietly with her. She saw Idril nod her head in agreement, then both came and embraced her. Tuor took her hand and placed something in it.

His gold ring lay there on her palm. ‘You cannot give me this!’ she cried. ‘This is yours, from Idril.’ ‘It is our wish to do so, Piosenniel.’ said Idril. ‘Our gift to you, and so to him.’

‘Thank you, then!’ she said simply, and embraced them each. ‘For all you have ever done for me. And for this gift. I will cherish it.’ She tucked it securely into the small pouch at her belt, and bade them farewell, saying she must now return to the Star.

Her light mood darkened as she approached the ship, thinking of the shadowed time that lay ahead.

[ October 28, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Birdland]

It took up to an hour for Birdie to make it to the river in insect form, but once she entered the water and changed to dolphin shape, it took less than half that time to reach the sea.

She swam blindly, not caring where she was going or how far from the filthy, doomed caverns she could get. She just swam, hoping that the motions of the waves and her own body would return some feeling to her heart and mind. It wasn’t working though. She still remained numb.

She hadn’t called for Levanto, certainly hadn’t sought him out, but suddenly he was there, swimming beside her and keeping pace effortlessly. Insanely, the only question Bird had about this was how had he always managed to tell her from every other dolphin in the sea? Could he tell one dolphin “real” dolphin from another as well?

“Birdie, stop.” he said, but she just kept flying, swooping over mountains, chasms, broad meadows of coral and sea fan, all dappled by a moon that was never full down here, but broken and scattered.

“Aewdor!” he shouted, swimming in front of the skinchanger. She finally stopped and strangely, morphed into the form of a woman, treading water and struggling to keep her head above the waves. Levanto reached out and held her at the shoulders to keep her afloat.

“I won’t go back there. I won’t.” Bird’s teeth started to chatter from the cold water, and she tried to push the Mer-Man away.

“You have to, Birdie. You can’t just leave. Not now. What is wrong with you? Are you going to just leave behind everyone there? Swim off and just turn your back? What is wrong with you?” he repeated.

She laughed, but it came out oddly, choked through her chattering teeth. Levanto flinched at the sound of it. “I already turned my back. Again and again. I did nothing.” Bird choked again and her whole body began to shake, but it was not from the cold. “She died, Levanto. I knew her name, and she died, and I didn’t do anything. I knew all their names, and I didn’t do anything!“ She was racked with sobbing by now, and if Levanto had not been there to hold her up, she would have curled up and sank. “I didn’t do anything, and I knew!”

Levanto wrapped his arms around her, wishing that there was some bit of land, or a boat, anything to take Birdie out of the sea. She was not even trying to support herself. He floated on the surface, laying back and pillowing her head on his shoulder.

“I know. But it’s only one more day. You have to be there. Then you can stop it. The Halflings need you.”

“Why did they let it happen, Levanto? Day after day, they just walked away with the guards and let it happen to them. And I let it happen, too.” Then Birdie said something in a low voice, and Levanto felt a chill that didn’t come from the water. “My own people would not have done so.” said Birdie. “My own people knew what to do when no hope is left. They would not have left it to others to do it for them.”

“No, Bird!“ He sat up and shook her roughly. “That is not the way. The Halfling were promised hope, and they believed, and waited. For sixty years they waited, and they were right to. And you’re a part of that hope. When your own hope is gone, you may do what you like, but you will not turn your back on the Halflings now! Not now!“ Bird stared with wide, frozen eyes at the furious Mer-Man.

“I‘m sorry that you had to watch those people die, knowing and not being able to do anything to help them, but their deaths will mean nothing if you don’t go back and finish this. Perhaps they died, but their people will live on, and they know that that is the only thing that is important. I can only hope that your own people realized the same.”

Bird was still silent, and in silence she changed back to her dolphin form and turned back towards the cursed island of Numenor. And in silence Levanto turned and followed her.

Halfway back Bird said to the Mer-Man, without looking at him, “Levanto, how did you know?”

“Know what?”

“You know. About saying my name in Elvish.”

Levanto sighed “I didn’t. I suppose it was but a lucky guess.”

They swam on. Then Levanto said “Of course, I will mention it to no one.“

[Child of the 7th Age]

The children's room was a quiet place that day. There were many tears for Esta, mixed with real fears about what might happen later that night. Parents came in and out throughout the morning, tightly hugging their children and wondering if they'd see them again.

A death like this would be difficult anytime. But, on the eve of the rescue, it was nearly unbearable. Esta's loss dragged at their hearts. It took away strength and resolve. The hobbits had spent months watching their old ones disappear, one-by-one. They could only imagine what happened to them, since they'd never been to the temple or seen the brutal ceremonies. Now they knew with horrible certainty. The injustice of Esta's death, one so young and full of promise, hit them to the core.

As Cami walked around the room, she was shocked to find a small group of hobbits arguing that there was little reason to fight on. They shook their heads and said it was impossible to win against such an enemy. Elven ships or not, our own numbers are few, they argued. Better to go along with the guards and eek out what few days or weeks remain to us.

For a moment, Cami thought to have Loremaster respond, or to speak out herself against such words of despair. But, before she could open her mouth, a small boy stood at the front and confronted the men. Kesha, all of eleven years, barely tall enough to qualify for duty on a killing squad, stared at them in disbelief.

"Do what you want. I do not believe things are hopeless. My heart grieves for Esta. She was like a sister to me. And I knew her better than you did. She would not have given up."

Cami felt anger and shame flood her heart. "The boy is right," she said. "The last words Esta spoke to me were filled with hope. She dreamed of today, when the Elven ships would carry her to freedom. The girl was not afraid to fight or to die. She was only afraid of not trying. You shame her memory by your words."

"Are you not afraid?" the hobbit challenged Cami. "They are many and well armed. We are small and few."

Anger reared up in her. "Afraid? Yes, I'm afraid, but that doesn't mean I'll stop trying. You've been imprisoned so long, you've forgotten what it's like to dream. You don't need any guards. You put up the bars...."

At that precise instant, two guards burst into the chamber. They looked about at the number of men and women gathered there and demanded, "Go back to your work, or you will all end up in the Locks."

The hobbits did not protest. They began to leave the room. Among themselves, however, there was much talk of Cami's words, and what she'd meant to say before the guards came in.

After the adults had filed out of the room, one of the guards turned to Cami, "You are in charge of these rats." He pointed at the chidren. She nodded yes. "If this happens one more time, with hobbits gathering here instead of working, you will see the temple yourself. Do you understand me?" He cuffed her across the face.

She looked him in the eye and said, "I understand you very well." Too well, she thought.

[Child of the 7th Age]

OOC -- This is real tricky to get the chronology straight when little things like work and life force all of us (including myself) to be on at different times.

My own order of posts go like this (game time):

4pm Gamba visits the children
8:30 pm Helen's Candlestones -- will paste
10:30 pm Sharon's continuation of candlestones
11 pm Helen's seizing of Gamba -- will paste
11:30 - midnight Sharon's post on completion of candlestones
Presumably Bird would then pop in about that time and the rescue go forward.


This is for 4p.m., Gamba visits the children.

Pat--Put your next post after this. Whatever it is, I will try to adopt to the chronology. I can use this single space to put in everything I have up to midight or list them after you and others as needed.

If I wake up later in the night, which is a definite possibility since I feel lousy, I'll check what you or Bird have put up, and try to adapt with markers for my stuff.

Sharon

---------------------------------------------

After the guard's abrupt departure, Cami berated herself for having been so careless. She should never have allowed such a large group to gather with the children. They'd all have to be more cautious the rest of the day to preserve an outward appearance of normal routine. The worst thing they could do was to arouse suspicion.

All afternoon, she let parents visit their children, but never more than a few at a time. Every now and again, the guard would pop his head in to check on activity in the room. Seeing nothing unusual, he'd leave and go back to his regular rounds of the caves. Every time that happened, Cami muttered under her breath. She hoped, by that evening, the guards would return to their usual patrol and let them alone. Already, in the distant corner of the room, and elsewhere throughout the cave, weapons had been carefully stashed, and were even strapped underneath shirts and breeches and skirts.

At one point, she'd heard several guards ask whether there would be a round of Candestones that night. Cami hoped so. Although the tragedy of Esta's death weighed heavily on everyone's minds, that was the one activity which could keep the guards amused. Their attention would be focused on the main cavern and away from the exits and corridors where the first signs of the rescue would appear.

Late that afternoon, Gamba stopped by to see the children after he finished his work in the Locks. Hanging on to his hands were the two little ones, Lilly and her brother, whom Daisy had befriended when she'd first been put in prison. Gamba handed them over to Cami and explained they'd be staying with her for the rescue.

"How did you manage this?" Cami asked in surprise.

He shrugged and responded. "Nothing to do with me. The guards got tired of feeding them. Plus, the prisoners had started to like them. It's the one thing they try to prevent, those kind of close ties. They know it can lead to trouble. I found the two of them roaming around the cave."

Cami smiled and thought this was their first piece of good fortune. They'd need many others if they were to make it through the night alive.

For the rest of the afternoon, Gamba stayed with his children. He sat quietly holding Maura. Ban and Asta played by his side. Roka even fell asleep with his head cradled against Gamba's knee.

The grieving boy said little to Cami. Once or twice, she went over and sat with him. She'd patted him on the shoulder, and ran her hand through his curls. The first time, he'd pulled away; the second he hadn't.

Cami was bringing the children down for dinner. After that, they'd return the youngsters to the room and have them sleep a few hours. The rest would help later that night.

Gamba agreed to follow along to dinner. He wanted to see his brother. Cami knew she'd have to stay on for the games if they decided to run them. That prospect was not appealing, but she had little choice. She suspected Gamba would return with the children.

Just as they were about to leave, Rose dropped by the room. She pulled Cami aside and whispered in her ear, "I'm the one who's replacing Esta as the fifth children's escort."

Cami squeezed Rose's hand and promised to talk later. Then she asked whether she'd heard anything from Bird. "No," replied Rose, "I've no idea where she is. Do you?"

Cami shook her head no. That worried her, but there was nothng that could be done right now. They lined up the children and headed off for dinner, with Gambi dragging along in back with his own sad brood.

[ October 29, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's Post:

As the time neared for departure to the North, Mithadan sought out Tuor. They spoke briefly about the rescue plan, then a silence fell between them. At length, Tuor spoke.

"Unless I am mistaken, some shadow of doom lies over you and you fear the outcome of this night. I have perceived the same shadow upon Piosenniel, though she buries it deep within herself."

Almost, Mithadan spoke to him of Ulmo's prophecy. Instead, he said, "Tuor, the responsibility of the rescue, its planning and all the lives at stake rests with Pio and myself. It would be foolish not to fear this night."

Tuor nodded dubiously after a sharp glance at Mithadan, who continued, "Forgive me if I speak not fully on these matters, for the weight of my concerns weighs heavily upon me. But if you would assist me, I beg your aid on one matter." Tuor nodded. "Tuor, I would have the Numenorean vessel which Pio and I captured brought with us to the caves. In the third or fourth spot if possible. I...hope that we will have need of it."

Tuor promised his assistance and went forth to locate a crew for the small vessel...

[ October 29, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ October 29, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

Pio felt the press of time once she returned to the Star. They must leave soon in order to make it to the caverns by the hour Mithadan had set for their arrival. She went quickly down to her room and put on her mithril shirt beneath her tunic. Two throwing knives were hidden in her boot tops. Her sword, two long knives, and four additional throwing knives were sheathed in her baldric, and she slung it over her shoulder, securing it round her waist with a twice looped belt. She grabbed her helmet and ran back to the deck.

Kali had organized the Hobbrim, who were now busy ferrying their weapons and the air bladders to the first ship in several of the skiffs. Ancalimon had already gone over, as had Angara with the dragon-fire. The ten Noldor warriors were now on board, as were twenty of the Telerin bowmen. Mithadan was also there, and looked to be in deep conversation with Fallinelë, the captain of the ship.

Pio spoke briefly with Veritas, then gave a fierce hug to Coral and Shell, who had come to see her off. Andril came forward and took the two girls by their hands to keep them back, ere they leaped down to the water to follow after the Elf. Pio smiled at them as they stood looking over the railing, and they waved furiously back at her. Then Pio turned toward Khelek, who was already in the skiff, and bade him cast off. They made for the first ship in silence.

It was midmorning, early, when Fallinelë led the long, graceful line of ships northward to the Siril. Their white sails were filled with a fair wind, and their gleaming prows cleaved the water without hindrance. Pio stood at the bow, keeping her eyes ever toward the north, as the waves bore them along at a swift pace.

Mithadan's Post:

As the Telerin fleet proceeded North, tendrils of vapour, almost like steams from a boiling kettle, rose from the sea both around the ships as well as ahead of them. Soon the fleet and the coastline to the North were obscured by a thick fog. The ships passed through the mists unseen, like ghostly shapes moving through wadded cotton.

Mithadan smiled and looked down at the sea beneath the prow of the Telerin ship on which he rode. "Thank you," he said quietly...

[ October 29, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

The evening of the rescue was supposed to be a normal evening, but with Esta gone, starting a game of Candlestones would be no easy task.
Before dinner Phura gathered his command team, what was left of it; he was joined by Loremaster and the elders, and "We need a game of Candlestones to finish the planned preparations," Phura warned. "Gamba can't do it. I don't think Azraph will play. But we still need a game, or there'll be nothing to distract the guards. The raids on the tool storage areas and the beginning of the main assault won't be made any easier by the lack of a game."

Corby frowned. "I'll miss Esta, terribly, " he said. "We all will."

"Believe me, I know, " Phura replied through sudden tears. "It will be hard for all of us, but we've got to somehow make it look like we've gotten used to people disappearing, and we're determined not to let it stop our lives. And we can't. She would want us to go on, to do everything just as planned. We can't let her down by not doing it."

Corby nodded, and looking up, caught the gaze of Mika and Kima, and sent to talk to them. Word spread slowly through dinner, and as the meal progressed, a grim determination weighed down the main cavern.

Gamba sat down with Phura briefly and said little, staring at his bread crust. He left it uneaten, and looked haggard and exhausted. Then he slipped into the study and spent the hours after dinner quietly watching the children. Tuka did not come to visit.

Phura watched Gamba from where he was sitting, and suddenly he realised he had a large problem; who would be willing to take Esta's job and light the candles?

He made his way to where Azra, Nitir, and Azraph were sitting, and spoke with Azra. She frowned. "Won't people resent me?"

"Perhaps, " Phura replied, honestly. "But this whole thing will be over one way or the other, after tonight. And if somebody resents what you did for all of us, then I'll deal with it later-- if we all live through this."

Put like that, Azra could hardly refuse. "What do I do?"

"When someone extinguishes a candle, you light it again. Stay out of the way of flying rocks. And when a champion is named at the end of the night, they might want a kiss from you."

"That doesn't sound too bad, " Azra replied cheerfully, and Phura had to laugh.

The game commenced, slightly subdued, after dinner. The guards gathered, some with a trace of sadness, but others shouting and betting as enthusiastically as ever. Some guards clamored for Gamba to appear, but several disagreed, saying, "Have pity on the boy." Azraph was also missed, but she stayed in the study with Gamba as he watched the children. He sat as numbly and as still as if he hardly heard the game at all.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Tonight's game of Candlestones was different from the others. Yet, outwardly, things looked the same. A dozen candles lit the main cavern and cast lean shadows against the wall. By the second round, the guards sat engrossed, their responsibility for the prisoners pushed to the back of their minds. Any misgivings they'd had about Esta were quickly forgotten. They joked and laughed quite naturally while placing bets or arguing who the new champion might be. Only one familiar face, Captain Tarcil, was missing. But few noticed his absence or wondered what it meant.

Even the prisoners who viewed the game gave little indication anything was wrong. They cheered on their favorites or groaned in sympathy when a popular hobbit failed to hit the mark. Azra carried out her duties to perfection. She set up new targets and darted out of reach when competitors stepped up to aim their stones.

Weeks of practice had left a mark. The hobbits hurled their rocks with pinpoint accuracy. Wick after wick lay extinguished. It looked to be a long night.

Yet, behind this carefully cultivated facade, something else was going on. A handful of prisoners slipped outside one at a time, silently making their way towards the tool shed. Most of the weapons had been stored there earlier in the week. These hobbits were careful to use side caverns and tunnels to avoid detection by the guards.

Nitir sat alone towards the back of the room. Her outer face registered polite interest in the games. Underneath was a different story. Her thoughts ranged here and there, as she mulled over what might happen next. One time, Azra had bent over to replace a candle. Nitir had caught a glint of a sword barely concealed under heavy skirts. She'd gone down to the girl and whispered a warning.

Her biggest concern was still Bird. She hadn't seen the neekerbreeker since the night of Esta's death. She hoped nothing had happened to her. Without the dragon, there was little hope of saving the last two hobbits whose names were on the selection list.

Nitir intended to slip out from the games before they ended. She wanted to make sure everyone was awake and organized in their groups. Then, the escorts would await a signal from Loremaster to begin running the children through the gauntlet.

When the third round of competition finally ended, the guards rose from their seats with wild applause. Three victorious hobbits stood in the arena waiting for the next phase to begin. Corby was a familiar figure to the crowd. This time, he was joined by Kima and Mika, two identical twins.

The three looked grimly at each other. They would need to match their game, stroke for stroke, in a show of perfection that would drag the proceedings far into the night. Someday, perhaps, if they were lucky, they'd tell their grandchildren how they created a diversion so the ships and rescuers could draw close to the caves.

Stone by stone, they competed. There were few mistakes. Azra replaced the targets again and again. Finally, the guards had the contestents move back several paces to make their task more difficult. Kima and Mika hurled their rocks with fierce resolve, and near perfection. They saw two wicks flcker and die. Corby shook his head and sighed. His last attempt had missed by just a fraction. Now they were down to two.

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

There were seven guards. When they came for Gamba, he simply looked up, numb, and stood, and was almost glad. Already broken, and weary, and knowing the pain that lay ahead of him, he whimpered a little; but he told himself that he could scream all he wanted to, that no one would care, and that soon he would be wherever Esta was.
Phura, horrified, started to interfere, but the Study Guard held him away; Phura stopped with his blade at his throat, and watched through tears as they led Gamba away. Loremaster swept forward to hush the children who had woken and were asking what was wrong.

But when two guards had led Gamba away, the other five turned on the Study guard. His face went white, and he began to weep with fear, but he mastered himself and stopped the tears. Gamba turned, as they hustled him along, and saw him surrender his sword and dagger, and he was brought along behind Gamba.

The horse, Gamba realized. They knew that he helped us, because I rode his horse right back to the gate. It's my fault.

They had almost reached the doorway, when Gamba heard Phura cry out in anguish; he turned, and to his horror, saw Loremaster restraining Phura, and Azraph being escorted out by two more guards.

"Oh, Phura, " he whispered, and the guards hustled him along. "Why her?" he pleaded, as they marched them out.

"Champion at Candlestones," muttered one guard. "Quiet, " said the other, and no more was said.

So it wasn't just Esta's death that was his fault, but now it was to be Azraph and even the guard. They were all there because of him and his stupid Candlestones competition. Gamba's heart sank and sank.

Loremaster released Phura as Gamba disappeared from sight. Phura, stricken, turned to go to his assigned post, and Kesha followed him. Loremaster turned, weeping, to find the other elders, and make adjustments to the plans now that Gamba was gone. In his distress he did not notice that the childrens' beds were now empty. Four small shadows slipped unnoticed after the last contingent of guards.

The guards led Gamba and Azraph and the study guard out past the graveyards, and Gamba looked down at two open hobbit graves that yawned open, ready, and he shuddered. Despair and guilt circled Gamba like hawks, and then he thought of Piosenniel's promise during the meeting that the Lonely Star would rescue the last sacrifices. But would they get there in time? Or would they get there after the first, lethal blow had been given?

Oh, Azraph, he thought, I am so sorry. I did this to you with my stupid game, and if the Lonely Star doesn't get here in time, then you'll die, and Phura will be all alone.

He remembered the torture that Esta had endured last night, and he began to shake.

They were brought to the horse pens, and each of the guards mounted a horse. Each hobbit was carried by a guard, and the Study Guard rode between the five men. They galloped towards the temple, and were joined partway by another group of guards and two more prisoners.

The group halted. "Two?" said the leader of the guards, and looked at the Study Guard. "Then---?"

"Not needed, " replied the other leader in charge of the newly delivered prisoners.

Gamba turned and looked at the Study Guard, relieved for his sake, and hoping that he would be set free. The Study Guard looked relieved too, but he loked at Gamba with a mixture of sadness and cool pity, and then he turned to look at his commander, and lifted his chin.

Their eyes met, and the commander nodded. "Better this way, " the commander agreed, and drew his sword.

The Study Guard dropped his reins and looked up at the stars, and his commander's sword flashed through his throat. The Study Guard toppled to the ground.

Gamba gasped in shock and horror, but then realized that the Guard was grateful to be spared what Esta had endured.

The escort turned their horses, and with a few backwards glances at their old comrade, galloped toward the temple. Azraph tried to be brave, and not knowing what she was headed for, she mostly succeeded. Gamba, exhausted, demoralised and knowing full well what lay ahead, gave in to his fears and regrets, and sobbed.

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ November 09, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

whoever needs it

sharon

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

whoever needs it

[ October 31, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

Loremaster seemed to have aged twenty years as he tottered into the caves with the Elders to announce the selection of Gamba and Azraph. Cami gave a small gasp of despair and held out her arms to the old Halfling, almost as if he were one of the toddlers who were under her care.

The candlestone players froze in place, and the guards lounging around the walls looked uneasily at each other as the silence deepened. Never before had a public announcement been made when prisoners had "disappeared". The guards knew that the Halflings knew, but it almost seemed that the little people had just absorbed the loss and went on, closing around the hole left by the vanished prisoner without comment, like a herd when one of its members is taken by an eagle.

It was this more than anything that had led to the guards laxness. Through the years they had come to regard themselves as little more than shepherds tending sheep. Occasionally they would have to round up a stray or nip the heels of a few stubborn lambs, but otherwise the herd had been remarkably passive, even when they were led to slaughter.

But this was different. A few of the candlestone players dropped their stones in shock and grief. Far more of them, though, closed tight fists around the stones, gripping them with white knuckles and shaking hands. The silence deepened, and the guards fidgeted nervously.

Then the silence was broken by the rattle of feathered wings. Bats were a common sight in the caverns, but this winged creature was no bat. From out of nowhere a small black and white crow was soaring above their heads, flashing back and forth between the walls, like a panicked swift that had strayed down the chimney into the parlor. Its wing beats echoed off the the rocks and it kept up an unearthly keening, quite unlike the "caw" of a frightened crow.

The people in the cavern craned to follow the bird's path, or ducked as it flashed above their heads. The guards cursed in fear. No bird had ever found its way into the caverns.

Then the crow landed on the shoulder of Loremaster and spoke in his ear. In later years the tale would fill the mouth of the crow with prophesies, battle cries, or blessing, but no one really heard what the bird said to Loremaster that night: "You were right not to want to know. I knew; and it will be my shame and my prison for the rest of my life. But the time has come, and now I am free!"

The bird rose, circled and flew out of the cavern, down the tunnel to the river. Cami the halfling ran after it, shouting "Bird! Wait! Come back!"

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's post:

The dense fog shrouded the entry of the flotilla into the Siril and had the further salutory effect of driving such few boats as might normally ply the river at that hour to the shore. It was somewhat after noon when the last ship in line entered the river. The fog closed behind it like a door.

The trek up the Siril took many hours. Those who could do so slept the afternoon away. Many, however, could not seek the forgetfulness of sleep. Mithadan prowled the decks like a panther, watching both the vessel's course as well as the shoreline for any onlookers. Thus far they had gone undetected.

The Hobbrim would often leap into the waters to monitor the keels of the ships and the depth of the river. They also swam ahead to keep watch for any vessels. But the preternatural fog and the chill which accompanied it left the Siril deserted.

As night began to fall, Kali clambered aboard the lead ship and padded over to Mithadan. "Yes, Kali?" he said. "Mithadan, I am joining your crew now," Kali replied. Mithadan nearly laughed but managed to keep a straight face. "If you wish," the Man responded. "But why?"

Kali tapped his foot impatiently. "You agreed that I would come with you. That if Pio were imprisoned that you would rescue her. Daisy is imprisoned and I will rescue her. Pio has also agreed. She invited me along this morning. I will go along with you."

Mithadan's face grew grave. "I did say that, Kali," he answered. "And I will honor my word. But keep in mind that it will be dangerous and that, no matter what you see or hear, you must do as Pio and I say." Kali agreed gratefully.

The night fell and the shoreline disappeared altogether. The ships remained hidden from any passerby between the dark and the fog. Mithadan settled in to await their arrival at the foot of Meneltarma. One way or another, he would not see the next day dawn...

[ October 29, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

BIRD'S POST


Bird flew through the tunnels, passing Halflings and guards in a blur and a rush. By the time most turned their heads to follow her path, she was gone. But her cries echoed down the passages, an eerie call that sent shudders through those that heard it.

She burst out of the tunnel mouth and flashed skyward, flying like no other crow before or since. It seemed that she had grown the wings of the swallow. The Siril became lost in a mist below her and she aimed for the cold stars above. Then she circled and flew north to the peak of Meneltarma.

The Citadel on the peak seemed a broken, ugly place, as if it's dedication to Morgoth had meant a dedication to ruin. If any beauty had existed here, it had abandoned the site with the Eagles.

The ceremony was beginning, the acolytes of Darkness gathered around the sacrifices, who were bound at the hands, but standing on their feet. They were expected to walk and lay themselves down on the altar. Two tall, towering men, and two small figures, male and female. A thought went through Bird's mind at that moment - "Where were the women of the Faithful?" - but then was gone. The sacrifices were walking forward. Then the small female stumbled, whether through fright or the stony ground, She was lifted to her feet by her hair, and the first cry of the tortured was heard.

It was then that the roar of a Great Wyrm echoed off the mountaintop and flew down the slopes. Whether it was heard in the tunnels below the mountain is not known, but it was carried by the winds to a small flotilla in the mists of the River Siril as they neared the caverns, and a Golden Wyrm on the first ship took up the cry, her great voice muffled by the layered fog. Mithadan and Pio clasped hands for the last time before the battle. "It is beginning, at last." said Mithadan.

And on Meneltarma, a great black and silver Dragon, whose name was never known, descended on the Temple of Morgoth.

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

When they were two hours from their destination, Pio sent Levanto ahead of the ship to give warning of their approach. An obscuring haze shrouded the advent of the small fleet. Night was dark about them, and only the weak rays of the brightest stars and the moon penetrated the mists which swirled round the ships. In fog shrouded silence the small fleet passed like mist woven wraiths up the river.

They were minutes from the place where they would dock when a great roar of anger pierced the enveloping stillness, and Angara raised her head in swift response, momentarily echoing the cry. Pio grabbed the rail before her, assaulted by the strength of the cry and the image which flashed before her mind. The nightly sacrifices were soon to begin, and Bird had risen, a great and terrible dragon presence, to call the servants of Sauron to their final accounting.

Aewdor! she cried, and would have fallen had not Mithadan put his arm about her waist to steady her. ‘We must keep silence on all fronts.’ he reminded her gently. ‘Our only hope is that afforded by what stealth with which we can approach the caverns and enter them.’ She nodded her head in agreement, and shut her mind against the strong emotions and scenes of horror which came from Bird. The awesome sense of that now great dragon’s wrath clung to her, and she wished her old friend the swift and satisfying completion of her task.

Angara paced restlessly, longing to take flight and join the other dragon. Pio put her forehead against the Wyrm’s and bade her stay. ‘At the end,’ she said, ‘then will there be the two great dragons who hold back the last of the Men as we complete the rescue. For my sake and for the sake of the Hobbits we have come to rescue, hold fast ‘til then.’ The dragon relented, then, but her great golden eyes whirled with a deep anger. Woe to all who stand against those whom I have vowed to protect! she said. I will smite them down. As does the fire when it rushes through a field of sere grass!

Now the first ship had reached the place where her small force would begin the assault. Silently the crew dropped anchor and furled the sail. Fallinelë bade them go with the blessing of Ilúvatar, and in silence they entered the water – the Hobbrim first, taking their weapons and the airbladders toward the waters where the escaping Hobbits would enter the river. Then Mithadan and Pio entered the water, followed by Kali, Khelek, and Angara. They made their way swiftly to the interior of the cavern, and awaited the arrival of the Noldor warriors with their spears and the Telerin bowmen.

Once inside the caverns, Mithadan and Pio broke the Elves into their assigned teams. Five Noldor, two with axes and three with spears, accompanied by four Telerin bowmen, would head east to secure the Guard quarters. To them, Pio gave three of the larger dragon-fires and five of the smaller, checking to see that they had remembered to bring the means to light them. Angara had agreed to go with this team, to hold the bulk of the guards within their quarters. In addition, four bowmen would accompany them and begin to secure the further eastern entrances - two to the New Tombs entrance and two to the New Mines entrance. They would meet there with Hobbits from the troops which held the smithy, and clear out any stragglers in that far easter section. They would then move south toward the Guards' and assist the Elves already there. Six Teleri would proceed up to the river to guarantee the safe exodus of the fleeing Hobbits through the tunnel.

The remainder of the landing party would be with Mithadan and Pio, traveling along the western perimeter road. Along this route would be stationed the Hobbits who would assist them in securing the western and northern entrances to the caverns. Among these defenders, Pio divided up her remaining store of Dragon-fire, keeping three large ones for herself, and seven smaller ones.

The Elf looked back one last time toward the ships. The fog still held them in its safe embrace. She did not feel as safe here, on land. In the dim light their meager forces were exposed, while shadow held the threat of hidden foes. Khelek nudged her from her dark thoughts, pushing her into motion. She turned and followed Mithadan down the dim corridor, blade in hand.

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Daisy paced nervously within the confines of her cell. The girl counted how many times she'd circled back and forth, trying to keep her body moving so her mind would not despair. She found herself dreading that something had gone wrong. Perhaps some complication had delayed the rescue, or, even worse, a disaster had befallen her friends on the Star. Images of Piosenniel and Kali sprang to mind as she struggled to hold back tears.

The keys to the Locks were tucked securely under her sash. She'd taken two of the smuggled daggers and strapped them beneath her skirts. By now, Gamba should have come. Days ago, they'd decided on their plan with scribbled notes and whispered words spoken under cover of darkness. Gamba was to drop by early in the evening so that she could push the keys through the grate. That way, he could unlock the cells the minute the attack began. But long hours had passed, and the boy had not appeared.

Daisy knew what had happened to Esta. Even in her solitary cell, she could hear guards and prisoners discussing the girl's death. There'd been a lot of talk about how hard the boy was taking things. Perhaps, Gamba had been so weighed down by grief that he'd neglected to do his job. Yet she found that puzzling. In the morning, he'd whispered assurances to her that the rescue would go forward. He expected to return to the Locks that evening.

Outside, in the guardroom, everything looked normal. The Men were taking turns at a game of chance, hurling the dice onto a table and bickering back and forth. Things looked so normal that, for one instant, Daisy wondered if she'd been forgotten. Perhaps she'd still be trapped inside her cell when the great wave came crashing in. But, no. Her friends had promised. They would not let that happen to her, not while they had a single breath left in their bodies. At the least, Piosenniel would have gotten a message through to explain the delay.

Daisy squatted on the floor and began scraping at the soil where she'd hidden the other daggers. No message of delay had come. Whatever Gamba's absence might mean, she would have to trust her friends. With calm assurance, she waited and watched for the first sign that the attack had begun.

---------------------------------------------


The soft grey veil that masked the passing of the Elven ships slowly crept towards land. As fog inched over the edge of the graveyard, four figures huddled close. They seemed uncertain where to go.

The tallest one, just six-years old, impatiently stamped his foot. “Prisca said so. She’s big. She should know.”

“Roka, she could be wrong,” Asta spoke with hesitancy. He usually deferred to his brother, but now he wasn’t sure.

“No, I’m right. Those men had Esta. Then they came for Gamba. But I’m going to get him back.”

The boy glared into the darkness. His determination was apparent. He fixed his hand on a heavy shovel that workers had left behind earlier in the day. Unable to lift it, he dragged the implement behind him, intending to use it as a weapon when the need arose.

“Anyways, this is where Miss Cami took us to see Esta. So Gamba has to be here somewhere.” Roka glanced nervously about as he spied dozens upon dozens of freshly dug graves.

“But I don’t see him,” Ban disagreed. He was younger than the other two, but wanted to help in some way.

The smallest, a child of less than three years, said nothing during this conversation. He stooped on one of the soft earth mounds, probing fat little fingers into the soil. As he dug, he childishly intoned, “Gamba here! Gamba here!”

Ban finally told him to stop. “Be quiet!” he warned. “Or someone will hear.”

Roka, their leader, surveyed the field and admitted, “Everything looks different. I’m not sure which way to go.”

At that instant, a trumpet bellowed through the skies. A sound close to thunder rang in the childrens’ ears. Tremors shook the ground beneath their feet. At first, their hearts were filled with terror. Then they stepped back to stare overhead and caught a distant glimpse of a wondrous black and silver creature with great gliding wings.

Maura was the last to gaze upward. His face was bathed in a light of incomparable beauty. The toddler could somehow pierce through the shadow to sense the goodness of the beast. “Pretty birdie. Good birdie. Maura find.” He ran down the hill as fast as his legs would carry him, heading in the general direction where he’d seen the creature. The other three children came running along behind.
---------------------------------------------

Throughout the evening, Nitir watched as hobbits slipped quietly from the games, one or two at a time, to make their way to the tool shed. Some would join the tackling teams assembling in the passageways. Others returned to the main cavern, their weapons hidden beneath their clothes, waiting for the moment when lights would be extinguished and the final assault begun.

Now, her own time to leave was at hand. She nodded to Azra to let her know she was going. The girl would catch up later, after her duties in the main cavern had ended. As she'd been instructed, Nitir tried to walk in a slow and casual way which would not arouse suspicion.

She had only a short distance to go. The children and others requiring assistance were already gathered inside the study. They had carefully considered all the possibilities before deciding on this location. The study was the largest alcove in the tombs which stood closest to the river tunnel. It was also the chamber where Loremaster stayed so his presence there would not alert the guards to anything unusual.

By the time Cami entered the room, the children had awoken and were sitting in their groups waiting to exit. Ruby, one of the twelve-year olds, was scouting out the passageway. She returned with a big smile, "All's quiet. I only saw the study guard, and he was half asleep. No general alarm has been sounded yet."

There was a brief discussion on the best way to proceed. The guards were still in the main cavern watching the games. No one had predicted these would drag on so long. The lengthy competition was a blessing to those who were securing the outer passages and taking out the perimeter guards. But to Nitir and the other escorts, this situation posed a challenge. While it was unlikely the guards would pay close attention to the river tunnel, its mouth was visible to them if they stood up and craned their necks.

Everyone agreed it was better to be cautious than sorry. They would need to modify their original plans. A group with fifteen children and five escorts was just too large. It would be easily noticed by the guards.

"Let's send them through in smaller groups," Loremaster suggested, "at least initially."

"Nitir, take four or five children with you. Go all the way to the river, and make sure the hobbrim are waiting for us. Let those five be the first to board the ships. Then, come back about half way up the passage, and wait."

"What then?" she asked.

"Just stay there. We'll send the rest through in small groups. The elderly and infirm will be mixed in with the children and adults just like a large family would be. They'll come to the midpoint of the tunnel, and you'll escort them to the river.

"What about weapons?" Nitir asked.

"Pearl and Ruby have covered us on that. They were able to smuggle them into the tunnel earlier today. Every morning the jugs are sent down to the river in wheelbarrows and then brought back with water to the kitchens. The girls hid the weapons in the straw, and then left them in a concealed cleft of the tunnel wall which we've known about for a number of years. Pearl will show you where they are."

Nitir had already strapped a dagger to her waist under her belt. She planned to use the lance Kali had picked out for her. She also intended to carry her bow. Nitir doubted she'd find a use for it since the passages in the tombs were very narrow. But, somehow, she couldn't leave it behind.

"Nitir, Pearl will be going with you to help identify the children. Keep track of the numbers and names as best you can so we're sure everyone gets through."

Cami smiled. She was to escort the first group down to the ships. That was no small thing. Get the weakest and smallest out first, she reminded herself.

She took two of Mika's toddlers, one on her right side and the other on the left. Then she selected two five-year olds, Bungo and Peony, who looked to be among the most frightened of the group. Their small fingers clutched tightly onto her skirts.

Finally, Loremaster handed her a tiny little thing to tuck into her sling. It was a babe, but a few days old. "This one is special. She's the last born in the tombs, or so we hope. Sadly, she's an orphan. Her father was taken in the selection. Her mother so worn with grief and work that she died giving life to her."

"Such a pretty little child," Nitir kissed the top of her head. "What is her name?"

"She does not have one yet. Perhaps her name will come to us tonight."

Loremaster turned and smiled at them. "You, all of you, hold our future in your hands. Take care, and keep track of who gets through."

Nitir nodded and scurried the children out of the alcove and around to the left. Only a short distance to go, and they'd reach safety.

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Despite Loremaster's announcement and the strange arrival of Bird, the two hobbits, Mika and Kima, doggedly continued to compete at Candlestones. It was too soon to halt the game. Somehow, someway, the guards needed to be kept inside the room a little longer. A few more hobbits slipped out on secret errands, but most remained within the cavern, their attention directed to the contest at hand.

The guards were in a decidedly foul mood. Loremaster's actions and the appearance of Bird seemed like a subtle challenge to their authority. They cursed the contestents and, at one point, ran over and cuffed Azra across the face when she failed to set up the candles as quickly as they demanded.

The twins continued to match each other, candle for candle, stone for stone. Bids and money were exchanged back and forth between the guards as the stakes ran ever higher. Then, when the suspense could last no longer, Mika outdid Kima by a single point, and the game was suddenly over.

The hobbits glanced at each other with apprehension. They had stretched the competition to its furthest limits, but still it was not enough. This was the critical moment, before the general alarm, when all must be done in secrecy and silence. A hoard of guards pouring into the main passageway would be disastrous for the rescue.

The guards were paying off their bets, and standing up, searching on the ground for their swords and other weapons. They were about to go off and leave the main cavern.

Mika and Kima eyed each other nervously, unsure of what to do. Corby leaned over to them and muttered, "We've got to hold them here. Any way we can. Any way. Just play along."

He strutted out on the floor, trying to get the attention of one of the retreating figures. Though accounted tall by hobbit standards, Corby barely came to the middle point of the guards' chests. Tall or not, he intended to challenge them to a game of Candlestones. He knew he'd have to make it interesting. He nabbed the nearest guard.

"If you're a betting man, I have a challenge for you. Mika and I are the two champions. We've been in the winner's circle more than all." That's actually a lie, Corby thought. Gamba was the one who'd accomplished that feat. But if he mentioned that name, it would only stir up anger.

He calmly continued. "So we figure we'd challenge you to a game ourselves."

The Man roared with laughter, "You, pipsqueak, what's in it for me? What have you possibly got that would have any value? To say nothing of the fact that I'm twice as big as you are. No rat is going to beat a Man at anything."

"Maybe not," Corby agreed, "but you'll never know for sure till we play. Or maybe you're afraid to try." Corby measured out his last words very, very carefully. The worst they could do was to lead to a general riot. Even that was better than having all the guards walk out into the hall.

"Hey, Makil, are you afraid?" roared his companion.

The guard clenched the hilt of his sword till his knuckles showed through white. "Afraid? You must be joking. I could pin this annoyance against the wall."

His hand went out to grab Corby by the collar as he began raising him up from the ground."

Mika suddenly sprang forward and opened his mouth. "That's not the question, whether or not you could pin him down. The question was if you could beat him."

"And believe me, we'll make it worth your while to play."

"Really?" the guard raised his eyebrows and seemed about to dismiss Corby, but since he couldn't help being curious, waited for the hobbit's response.

"Yes, we'll go against you and any other Man that you pick. If the hobbits win, the two of us get six months with no work duty."

"And if I and my friend win?" the Man queried.

"Then you get to take us in the selection." He said it in an even, still voice.

"I could take you in the selection tomorrow and not take part in this ridiculous contest."

"Maybe so," shrugged Corby. "But then your friends will say that you turned down a challenge."

The Man turned around. His face was red with anger. He had been caught in his own trap. "Alright, little rat, have your wish. But I'll make one change. That will be four months with no work, and, if you lose, your wives will be invited for the selection."

The men turned towards each other and hesitated. Then they looked towards the crowd where Glena and Keli sat together. The two women stood up and nodded yes in their husbands' direction.

"You have it," said Corby.

They went to the line and got ready to compete.

---------------------------------------------

When Nitir stepped ouside the study, she was not surprised to see the guard slouched against the wall. As Ruby had reported, he looked bored and half asleep. Maybe this would not be difficult if they kept their heads ad used their wits. She muttered a few words to him about taking her grandchildren out for a breath of air. The guard shrugged his shoulders and motioned her through. After several evasive moves, she and Pearl managed to lead the group round about to the mouth of the tunnel. Once safely out of view, they raced quickly down the passage, half dragging and pushing the children along.

When they reached the banks of the river. everything looked empty and still. For one moment, Nitir feared there'd been some horrible mistake. But then came a welcome sight. A single hand glided up from under the water to grab onto the rocky beach. A hobbrim body soon followed. Within a moment, Nitir was staring into the eyes of Andril.

"All is quiet yet," the wise woman recounted.

"On our end too. Though I suspect things have begun deeper in the tombs."

Andril pushed several air bladders to the front, and began helping the children into the water. Each child was propped up on a device, with a hobbrim swimming beside him. The hobbrim propelled the small craft forward and kept one hand positioned on the youngster's back. Before Nitir could open her mouth, the children were quickly disappearing up the river, one-by-one, with their escorts.

"What about this one? She's too small." Nitir gently handed the babe over to the hobbrim.

Andril smiled, "We thought of that. While Mithadan was making air bladders, our people worked on rush baskets and small rafts that can float in the water. The outside is covered with pitch to keep them water tight. We use them ourselves when we wade into the shallows and wish to keep our babies or toddlers near us."

"What is this child's name?" Andril asked.

"She has none. Nor any living family."

"Then we will fix that." She tucked the child into the tiny floating cradle. "You are Estel, child of hope. And before the night is through, you will have no shortage of mothers who will raise you and honor you as your own blood kin would have wished." Andril kissed the babe and sent her off with an escort in the same direction as the others.

---------------------------------------------

Haldad, the single guard who stood outside the study, was a newcomer. Captain Tarcil had hastily assigned him to the post to replace the Man who'd been dragged off earlier that night. The new guard did not know one hobbit from another, and paid scant attention to those who left the study, ostensibly wanting to take a stroll.

Haldad's mind was frankly on other things. This was the last place he wanted to be. He'd already petitioned for a transfer. A spy, a mounted warrior, even a temple accolyte. Anything had to be better than this!

The guard could see hobbit families who seemed to be wandering in aimless circles. Some towards the kitchen caves or the Candlestones arena, others walking in the direction of the small side caverns or the annex where the Elders slept. Like rabbits, he thought! So many children. He shook his head in dismay.

Yet, for all his keen observations, Haldad failed to note one thing. No matter where the groups started or where they ambled off to, they all wound up in the exact same spot, disappearing down a long dark tunnel away from the cavern and the guards.

Nitir and Pearl stood midway in that tunnel, conveying group after group back to the river as quickly as they could, working together with the hobbrim. If truth be told, Nitir felt a bit guilty. Her friends were inside battling, probably facing horrendous odds. Yet she had the happy duty of seeing the young and old swim towards the ships, the last step before freedom. Nitir thought with a laugh that, if she survived this night, those happy faces in the water would be one of her sweetest delights and memories.

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The four children kept walking in the direction where they'd seen the great bird. They knew enough to tread softly, scrambling from one tree or bush to the next, taking advantage of every hidden nook. They'd learned that skill in the caves whenever they ran into guards.

The group went slower and slower as Maura's legs began to tire. Finally, they came to a pen where horses and ponies were kept. The children hid behind a large rock. They could see a great ruckus going on in front of them. Guards were racing around, grabbing at the horses' manes, and trying to swing up onto their backs. Several were fighting each other over who would get a horse. There were other Men lying on the ground bleeding. Those guards who managed to grab horses galloped off in a hundred different directions.

The children had no idea what was going on. They could see the guards were in a big hurry to get somewhere. Roka didn't like this place at all. Even the graveyard was better than this. There was too much confusion and noise. He'd never seen guards fighting like that. Sometimes they cursed or argued in the tombs, but these Men were taking swords and axes to one another. There was too much blood on the ground. It even smelled bad.

"What should we do?" whispered Asta in a frightened voice. "Where's Gamba? Where's the bird?"

Roka wasn't sure, but he didn't think the beautiful bird would be in such an awful place. And he couldn't see Gamba anywhere. He tossed his shovel onto the ground. It was getting too heavy to carry. He thought and thought. Then he remembered something. He tried to explain it to the others.

"Gamba told me we had to go to the river tonight. Maybe he got away, and he's already there. Anyways, I don't like it here."

Roka thought again and added, "Maybe Gamba's guards ran away too. We should try the river."

"Where's the river?" Ban asked with wide eyes. "Isn't it back inside the cave?"

Roka wasn't sure.

Then Asta piped up. "I think I know. I was here once before. I still had a dad then. My dad and I got to hitch ponies to some carts. The guards had us drive them down by the river. We loaded the carts with fish."

Asta looked sad. "I remember that pretty well. It was the first time I got to go outside, and I really liked those ponies."

"Can you find the way?" Roka interrupted.

"I think so." He turned around and carefully began leading the children back towards the tombs.

All along the trail Maura kept talking to himself, "Pretty birdie. Where's birdie? Where's Gamba?"

The others kept shushing him up.

After they'd walked a long time, they came to the outside perimeter wall of the tombs. "This is it," whispered Asta.

"Are you sure? That looks like the way back into prison" Roka sounded doubtful.

"Yes, I'm sure. We turn here. The river is down below."

The children kept going. The toddler was getting more and more tired. Finally, he sat down and stubbornly refused to budge. Asta and Roka pulled him up and dragged him along as best they could. They promised Maura the pretty bird would be near the water.

After what seemed like forever, they rounded a bend. Before them lay the river. Each child stopped and stared. Their eyes were wide with wonder. Except for Asta and his lucky dad, neither they or their parents had ever seen such a thing before.

"Look," said Roka, pointing to a fishing vessel that had been docked for the night. Within a single instant, caution had been forgotten. All four boys raced towards the river and the boat, expecting to find Gamba waiting for them.

[ November 01, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Mithadan]

Piosenniel and Mithadan led the three teams cautiously through the tunnels on the western perimeter of the caverns. To their east, in the Main Cavern, there was considerable noise and cheering as the Hobbits distracted the guards with a game of candlestones, whatever that was. A single Hobbit guided the rescuers through the paths leading toward the two exit tunnels and the Locks. They avoided the light which flickered in from openings to their right. The tunnels they walked through were otherwise dark.

Their guide halted abruptly, holding up a silent hand in warning. Then he waved them forward. Just ahead, a group of Hobbits stood over a body. One held a knife and others held what appeared to be a visor with one side sharpened to a wicked edge. They struggled to move the body into a nearby alcove. As the rescue teams passed, they looked up with smiles and hopeful eyes. Mithadan waved to them and continued.

Soon after, their guide gestured that they should avoid a puddle on the tunnel floor. It was a small pool of dark fluid from which a trail led off to the east as if something had been dragged through it. They passed two more such puddles before they reached the entrance to the Graveyard Tunnel which led off to the West. Several Elves broke off from their group and melted into the black mouth of that tunnel.

A few minutes later they passed the second entrance into the caverns; the Front Prison Tunnel. There they found another group of Hobbits labouring to move a guard's body. The Elves assigned to guard that opening split off and aided the Hobbits in moving the dead weight. Unable to resist, one Hobbit maiden came forward and briefly embraced Piosenniel, who smiled then sent the Halfling back to her team.

The perimeter tunnel widened as they moved forward. Just ahead, they saw light entering from openings to their left. Groups of Hobbits were exiting from these caves and making their way either into other tunnels or toward the Main Cavern. Their guide stopped one group and asked that some of the lights in the annexes be extinguished. Soon the perimeter path was again dim. Two groups of Hobbits exited as they passed and headed back down the path which the rescuers had taken, moving towards the River Tunnel.

Soon the remaining team followed their guide to a place where the tunnel forked. The right hand fork appeared to lead off to the southeast. The guide quietly explained that this path led back along the east side of the Main Cavern towards the Guards' Quarters and ultimately the River Tunnel again. The fork to the left led to the Locks.

Piosenniel and Mithadan, joined by Kali, stepped into this tunnel. They left behind them six Elves to hold the tunnel entrance against any unexpected intruders. For a moment they stood still. All that could be heard was a steady murmur from they Main Cave punctuated occaisionally by a cheer or loud groan. But all else was calm. No alarm had been raised yet. Mithadan looked briefly at Piosenniel, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, moving as one, they slid quietly up the tunnel towards the Locks.

[piosenniel]

SHARON'S POST

---------------------------------------------

The guards competing with Mika and Corby were no fools. Although they would never admit it, they recognized the hobbits were agile and intelligent. Practicing day after day, their prisoners had become experts at hitting the mark. But the men also knew they had a clear advantage in terms of height and strength.

Makil eyed his companion and whispered something in his ear. The other grinned back and laughed.

"Alright, since the choice of the game is yours, we'll pick out the stones. Also, the place where the contestents will stand."

Corby and Mika suspiciously eyed the men and shook their heads. Some nonsense was afoot, but they would have to go along, and deal with it the best they could.

Makil sauntered over to the rockpile by the side of the cavern and spent a moment sorting through it. Then he selected the four largest stones he could find. These were three times heavier than the ones normally used.

Makil walked back to the line, and surveyed the playing field. "This is far too close," he barked at Azra. "Take the line back twenty paces." The girl complied, hoisting and moving the rock which marked the place where the contestents stood.

"Now, we're ready," The guard stepped confidently forward.

If the stones and playing field had been left untouched, the competition would have been over very quickly. The two guards could not have bested Mika or Corby in a fair game of Candlestones. But this was no fair game.

The hobbits were at an initial disadvantage because of the changes that had been made. Almost immediately, Mika and Corby found themselves trailing behind. But, very slowly, they adjusted their game and crept up in the scoring. By the end of the first round, the hobbits and men were dead even.

The second round began. Guards and prisoners were rivetted to their seats. No bids were made, no money exchanged hands. There seemed to be more at stake than a simple game of chance. Again, Mika and Corby started out behind, but gained ground as the competition went forward. Then, out of nowhere, the two began hitting their stride. They shot down candle after candle, while the guards stared on aghast.

For the first time, the hobbits sitting and watching forgot their fear and remembered pride. They stood up to yell support. Their anger seemed to be spilling out in all directions at once. Several of the younger ones began jeering and taunting the guards.

Makil rushed over to Corby, his face red with fury, and hauled the hobbit up by the collar. "This time, you won't get away," he snarled. The guard snatched a dagger out of his belt, drawing his arm back to strike a death blow. The blow never came.

Instantly, hobbits raced forward to mob the guards. The first to die at their hands was Makil. Other prisoners aimed at the candles lighting the arena, taking them down with stones. Daggers kept hidden were now pulled out, as the hobbits worked together in teams to tackle the guards and slit their throats. Others raced over in the direction of the newly dug garbage ditch, where stakes and sharpened vizers had been concealed earlier in the day. A dozen hands scrambled in the dark to seize weapons that could be turned on the hated guards. The battle for the main cavern had begun.

************************************************** ***********

PIO

They had gone a short distance down the tunnel when Pio put a restraining hand on Mithadan’s arm and brought the group to a halt. A wan shaft of lamplight fell like a bar from the left side of the corridor across the path fifteen feet in front of them. It was the alcove where the tunnel guards were.

They could hear the sound of dice rolling on a wooden surface, followed by soft cursing as the cubes came to an unlucky halt. A small laugh rang out, and the sound of coins scraped from one side of the table to the other. ‘Try again, Malantur?’ came a voice well slurred with drink. ‘No more, Ardamir! My purse is as empty as the wine jug! I’m going back to lie down.’ They heard the sounds of someone fumbling with keys in a lock, and the noise of a great door opening and closing.

Ardamir sat down heavily in his chair. He pulled a hidden wine skin from beneath his vest and took a long pull on it. It had been a lucky night for him, he thought. The few coins he’d won would supplement his meager guard’s pay. His key ring dug into his side as he slumped against the arm of the chair. He fumbled for it, and put it, clanking, next to the pile of coins. One more pull at the skin, and his head drooped to his chest , a small, dark red rivulet of cheap wine escaping from the side of his slack mouth to stain his all too dirty shirt. He did not wake until it was too late. A strong arm pulled up his lolling head by his greasy hair, and sharp blade sliced him deeply, ear to ear. Blood spilled down his shirt front, covering the wine stains, and his head lolled once again on his chest.

Pio reached round him and grabbed the keys. She threw them to Mithadan and wiped her knife on her leggings, resheathing it for later use. Khelek was stationed in the shadows of the corridor just outside the alcove, to watch for any guard coming out from the Men’s Locks. He was to dispatch any such as swiftly and quietly as possible.

Mithadan lead them on, past the storage closet just beyond the alcove, and up to the open entry way into the Hobbit Locks area. They hugged the eastern wall as they slipped into the enclosure. Pio had placed Kali now between her and Mithadan, putting an occasional hand on his shoulder to guide him.

So far, they had neither seen nor heard any guards. The trio had come to the cell where Daisy was kept. Mithadan stood guard, while Pio called softly to Daisy to pass out the key. Once done, the Elf unlocked the door, and Kali rushed in to bring her out. He had just given her the sword he had brought for her, when the bright flare of torchlight from behind surprised them.

Pio turned to see two guards, swords drawn, advancing on Mithadan.

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ November 01, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

BIRD'S POST

Bird dropped like a falcon into the midst of the acolytes, claws thrown forward and wings stretched back. The talons closed around the head of the high priest and his shrieks ripped the air as he was lifted from the ground. The dragon shook the body, whipping it back and forth until the torso separated from the shoulders and flew into the trees. Bird dropped the head, spread her wings and fell again.

The prisoners had flung their selves to the ground, covering their heads with their arms as the blood of the priest rained down upon them. But Gamba could not help but look up as he heard the dragon wings rush above him. The other acolytes had thrown down their ceremonial instruments and had turned to flee down the path. If they hoped to make it to the horses; it was too late. The panicked beasts had broken their tethers and were fleeing down the slope, screaming louder than the Men.

As the acolytes ran, a massive, silver and black wing came rushing into the crowd, a wall of leather that swept into the Men like a fly-swatter and threw them through the air. Some smashed into the rocks, one was skewered on a broken tree limb. Most were dead and broken before they hit the ground.

The dragon head whipped around as a last priest tried to crawl from behind the altar. The jaws closed and he was snapped in two. Then rearing like a horse, the massive from legs of the Wyrm came down on the rock slab, crumbling it like a loaf of bread, while the wings smashed into the surrounding arches, cracking the pillars and sending the crosspieces tumbling down the slope. Stone chips and dust flew through the air, a shard of marble sharp as a knife cutting Gamba’s cheek as is whirled past him. Gamba rolled over, pressing himself against Azraph to try to shield and comfort her, since his arms were still bound. Then he laid his head down again and waited for the dragon to find them.

And then it was quiet, except for the bellowing sound of the dragon’s breath as it lay on top of the rubble, panting like a dog. Then Gamba felt the hot blasts of the panting beast on his neck. He pressed himself tighter against Azraph, and waited to die.

And then he felt the tip of one talon, as long as his arm, delicately insert itself into his bonds and cut the cords without so much as a tug on his arms. The claw moved on, repeating the action on Azraph and the two Men.

"Get up!" commanded the dragon. The four prisoners raised their heads and looked into the silver eyes of the beast. "I said:" get up!" it repeated in an annoyed, winded voice. "There is not much time. These men are all dead, but the horses will flee back to the pens, and the guards may have heard me if they were outside."

Azraph threw her arms around Gamba, and the two halflings held to each other as they tried to process all that had happened in the last few minutes. They still expected to die. The two Men, however, were climbing slowly to their feet. The one, reaching down to assist his companion. Either they think it’s alright, or they intend to die on their feet thought the Halfling, and this small act on the part of the Men seemed to bring his own courage back. "What do you want with us?" he said to the Dragon, looking it straight in the eye as he held Azraph.

"What do you think I want? I’m taking you back to the tunnels. You want to be with your people when they catch the ships, don’t you.? Now come on. Can you walk?"

Azraph finally looked at the dragon with tear-streaked eyes. "You’re taking us home?"

At this the dragon snorted. "I’m taking you back to the caves. If you want to call them "home", that’s up to you. But if you don’t hurry, you’ll miss the ships, and the chance at a real home!" Then the dragon shook it’s head ruefully and said. "Please, you’ll have to forgive me. Being a dragon always makes me testy. Now come on. Climb on my back."

Gamba did not even know what to make of this last comment. . . . "being a dragon"? Well what else would you be? So he just got to his feet, helping Azraph up and walked towards the extended leg of the dragon. "Come on, Azraph. It’s alright, I think. We’re going home. Home."

"Wait!" cried the taller of the Men. The Dragon turned it’s giant head for the first time and actually smiled as it looked at the two. "Gilrain! Rumil! Well, this is a bit of luck for you two. You should get going now. I wouldn’t stay here, if I were you. You’re free. You need to get down to the sea. And you need to hurry. If you have family, go and find them. This island will not be here much longer."

Gilrain stepped forward and laid his hand on the hot flank of the Dragon. "Take us with you. We have to go back and free our comrades in the cages. You can not deny us this. If you are taking these Halflings, then you must take us as well."

The dragon chewed it’s lip in a worried manner. Then it shrugged it’s shoulders, almost knocking Gamba off, and sighed. "Very well. Get on. Oh, I hope I don’t get in trouble for this. But hurry!"

Gilrain and Rumil jumped on the Dragon’s back, grasping it’s hornlike scales as best they could. The dragon spread it’s silver wings, and with one downward flap. leapt into the sky.

They left the smoking ruins and the slaughtered priests behind, and flew back to the Siril. The dragon settled at the mouth of the river tunnel and furled its wings above the its head to allow its passengers to descend. The two Men leapt down and and helped the Halflings scramble down from the massive back.
"Thank you for helping us, though I don't know the reason why." Gamba bowed low, as he remembered other heroes had done in old tales. Azraph performed a pretty curtsy behind him, making her rags look like a ball gown for just a moment.

Bird tried to suppress a smile at this demostration of Hobbit politeness and cheek. Apparently it had always been a part of their makeup. But she only said "Don't thank me yet. I have only delivered you from danger to danger. There is still much to be done. The river tunnel should be clear by now. You know what to do, I think. Hurry!"

Bowing again, Gamba and Azraph turned and ran for the tunnel, each scooping up a few heavy river stones. Gamba turned back at the tunnel mouth, with a wave a smile; then he was gone. Bird could only hope she would see him again.

Gilrain and Rumil were studying the tracks of the small band that had descended from the ship and led into the tunnels. "So few," said Rumil. "Who would come with such a small band to assail such a place as this?"

"Friends of the Free People, of which we consider the Halfling Folk to be a small, but important part." said the Dragon, "Try to remember this, the next time the Men of Numenor cross paths with the Periannth again."

"Come, Rumil. We must try to find our way through this labyrinth to our own cells. Our brothers need us. Perhaps we can find some swords on the bodies of the guards."

"Wait!" said the Wyrm, "I'm coming with you." And with that, the Dragon started to melt before their eyes, shrinking and blending, until nothing but a small woman with black hair stood before them.

"My lady of the Locks!" gasped Gilrain, as he and Rumil started to kneel. "Oh, bother all that!" snorted Birdie, as she unwound a leather sling from around her waist. "We have no time. Come", she said, stooping also to grab a handful of river stones. "I'll lead you to your people, if they are still in the cages. Then you would be wise to take them and go! You have little time left, and I must concern myself with the Halfings."

Then Bird, Gilrain and Rumil ran for the tunnel, following the footprints of the crew of the Lonely Star.

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan leaped aside as the foremost guard brought his sword around in a slashing attack. The blade ripped through his cloak and grated against his mail shirt. Bringing up his own sword, Mithadan parried the guard's second blow, forcing his opponent's blade to the side and swung his blade back up, tearing through the Numenorean's throat. The second guard leaped forward, then stumbled and fell, with one of Piosenniel's throwing knives protruding from his right eye.

"Free the remaining Hobbits!" gasped Mithadan. "I fear for Khelek. We must return down the tunnel!"

Kali emerged from the cell, holding Daisy in his arms. She looked from Piosenniel to Mithadan to the bodies lying on the floor and burst into tears. "At last!" she cried. "I began to think you'd never come!"

"We would not leave you here, little one," said the Elf as she struggled to unlock the remaining cells. Other Hobbits emerged from their prisons. One was elderly and frail. Daisy and Kali assisted her towards the tunnel, ignoring her questions and her fearful glances at the slain guards. "Wait!" said Piosenniel. "Mithadan and I will lead. Then follow quickly."

They retreated back down the tunnel, pausing briefly to glance down the Locks Entrance which led back to the surface. Seeing no one, they proceeded toward the alcove where they found Khelek still standing guard before the door to the Men's Locks. "I heard fighting," he said. "Are you all well?"

"As well as we can be," answered Mithadan. "Guards must have entered through the side tunnel leading to the surface and they assailed us. I am glad to see you whole Khelek, for we feared that you had been overcome."

"Nay," he replied. "I did not even see them."

Mithadan lifted the keyring and looked to the door to the Men's area. Then he sheathed his sword and began grappling with the desk which stood in the alcove. Khelek joined him and they pushed the desk into the tunnel, blocking it. Mithadan took a bag of dragonsfire from his belt and handed it to Khelek.

"If guards come down the tunnel from the Locks Entrance, set the desk afire," said the Man. "I will enter the Men's Locks with Piosenniel. Keep the Hobbits with you for now. If we do not return in five minutes, use your dragonsfire and retreat to the Perimeter Tunnel with your charges." He nodded, pulling a tinderbox from his satchel.

Mithadan approached the alcove door, refusing to think about the possible consequences of his actions. Trying one key after another, he unlocked the door and swung it open quietly. The second guard from the alcove sat snoring on a chair less than ten feet away. He entered silently, followed by Piosenniel. The guard stirred and opened his eyes which grew wide with shock. Before he could cry out Mithadan's sword sliced into his chest. The guard gurgled and moaned, fumbling for a knife, then collapsed back onto his seat.

Mithadan wiped his blade on the guard's cloak and entered the Locks. There was a corridor with cells on either side before him. Although there were at least ten cells, only three were occupied. Mithadan winced as he beheld the condition of their occupants. Two of the cages held three Men each, bearded and emaciated. The third held a Man in better condition who watched the rescuers silently.

A man in tattered rags stood and approached the bars. "So you have come to kill more of us," he said scornfully. "We are such a danger to your King?"

Mithadan looked at the Man for a moment. Though worn and beaten down, he held himself straight and tall. His eyes were grey and his dirty hair may have been raven black. "Isilmir?" asked Mithadan. Piosenniel looked at Mithadan in confusion.

The man took a deep breath, but held his head high. "So you have come for me?" he asked.

"Aye," answered Mithadan as he fumbled through the keys. "And all your fellows as well. We have come to take you from this place and give you your freedom." The gate swung open and the three exited slowly. Mithadan handed the one called Isilmir a knife as he stepped into the tunnel.

"What wonder is this?" cried the Numenorean as Mithadan moved to the second cell and freed the next group of prisoners.

"Treason I'll warrant!" cried the single Man in the third cell with a loud voice. "A plot of the Faithful. Guards!"

Piosenniel stepped forward and drew a throwing knife. The blade flew straight and true and caught the Man in the throat. But down the corridor, they heard running steps.

"Quickly," cried Mithadan as he and Piosenniel moved the Men through the alcove door. Even as the last exited, a guard came down the corridor armed with a cudgel. Mithadan slew him quickly, then threw the chair holding the guard they had slain earlier to the ground. A second guard ran down the corridor and was met with one of Mithadan's throwing knives. He fell writhing to the floor. They could hear no further noise from the Men's Locks.

Mithadan motioned Piosenniel through the door, then, using two small bags of dragonsfire, set the chair and the straw in one of the cells aflame.

Mithadan joined Piosenniel, Khelek and the prisoners in the Locks Tunnel. The wrestled the desk farther into the corridor so that it stood between the alcove and the way back down to the caverns and set it afire as well. Then they began their retreat.

"Isilmir?" whispered Piosenniel to her husband. "My ancestor aboard Elendil's ships had been imprisoned until just before the island was overthrown by the waters," he answered. "He never told how he escaped; it was a secret he took to his grave or so it is told in my family. His name was Isilmir."

Piosenniel nearly staggered at this. "So if you did not rescue the Men..." Mithadan did not answer, but instead shuddered at the thought.

-----------------------

Child's Post:

Nitir and Pearl had worked swiftly and quietly with group after group. They found their task enormously satisfying. They had watched as the elderly, the infirm, and the youngsters all made their way to the safety of the ships. Mithadan's air bladders and the small rafts woven by the hobbrim had enabled many to reach their goal who could not otherwise have done so. As soon as the main cavern was secure, the more general exodus of able bodied hobbits would begin.
Only a handful of children remained at the mouth of the tunnel waiting for safe escort down the river. But, just as the hobbits were starting the final group into the tunnel, something happened which no one had anticipated. Milo came racing down to Nitir. Azra was with him. She'd stripped off her skirts to reveal a sword and leggings underneath.

Gasping for breath, she leaned against Nitir's shoulder and blurted out, "The battle for the caverns is still going on. But some of the guards broke loose and headed toward the mouth of the tunnel. We've got children trapped there. About six of the older ones. Hobbits are trying to rescue them, but we need help."

"How many guards?" Nitir asked, her heart pounding furiously.

Azra shook her head. "It's hard to say. You can't see much. But I'd say at least eight."

Eight guards, thought Nitir. That was no small thing. "Go ahead, both of you, get back to the children, and start harrying the Men. I'll get the hobbrim to come up the tunnel and help.

Nitir turned and sprinted back to the water, where Andril was waiting. Within a moment of telling her story, five hobbrim had raced onto land and were running up the passageway, with lances in hand.

The children were penned in at the mouth of the tunnel, the Men completely surrounding them. Several hobbits attempting to assault the guards were armed only with swords and sharpened vizers. They swiftly darted in and out, striking blows. They had managed to divert the Men's attention from the children, but couldn't bring the guards down for a mortal blow.

Andril cried out, "Go in with the lances, the lances and the bows. Hobbits clear out." Six hobbits scattered to the corners.

Andril ran in and drew back her arm to hurl her lance forward, as she had done so many times when hunting the great fish of the sea. Then as now, her weapon found its mark. A guard was pinned against the ground, a lance pierced through his side. Blood flowed out onto the floor of the cavern.

The remaining guards raced forward against the hobbrim. Four other lances instantly shot through the air. Each was quick to find its target. Those hobbits armed with swords and other smaller weapons sprinted in to finish off the victims lying on the ground. Still, three guards remained.

Nitir strung her bow and cocked an arrow. It sped through the air and buried itself in the shoulder of a guard. He staggered about to retreat up the cavern, but was met by hobbrim who had now retrieved their lances.

Nitir pulled Andril over. "The rest can take care of the few guards who are left. Go in and get the children, and take them down the tunnel. I know they can swim. Just keep an eye on them in the water."

She nodded her head, "But where are you going?"

"We're missing children, four small children." Nitir explained. "I know exactly who they are, and I have a good idea where they went to. I've got to get outside and find them."

She started heading to the left, planning on inching her way along the wall of the main cavern until she came to the graveyard exit. But, before she could leave, Azra ran up to her. "I'm coming. It's Gamba's brood, isn't it?"

Nitir shook her head yes, but then bellowed, "Azra, stay here. I think I can make it back in time, but I'm not sure. It only takes one to go haul in lost children."

"And what do you think you'll find out there? A welcoming party? You could run into anything! Stop talking, and start moving. We're going together."

Nitir muttered something indiscernible under her breath. Out loud, she only said, "Stay close then. It's pitch black in here."

The two women felt their way in the dark towards the graveyard exit. Once they reached the passage, they had to crawl along the ground. The smoke and fumes were making it impossible to breath. There were only a few Elves still fighting in this area. They paid scant attention to the two small hobbits.

Nitir wondered if she should tell someone where she was going. But then, she didn't really know, and who could she tell? Anyways, it might be better if they said nothing. She and Azra were doing this by their own free choice. No use to endanger others by having them come search for her. Hopefully, they'd make it back. But there was no way she'd board the ship without trying to find the children. Gamba had seen enough misery for a lifetime. She pushed back the little voice in her head which whispered that it wasn't only Gamba who had feelings for these boys.

There was still a single torch burning at the entrance to the graveyards. Nitir grabbed it in her hand and brought it along. The two women ran into the field of death looking for any hint that the children had been there. It was then that Nitir spied the imprint of a shovel which was being dragged erratically on the ground in the direction of the horse pens. They quickly moved in that direction.

[ November 01, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

It was a slow procession down the perimeter road heading west to the front prison entrance. Anee with Daisy and Kali led the band of Hobbits and Men back down the tunnel. The more able of the freed band lent arms for support to their fellow prisoners. The frail, old hobbit lady clung to Khelek’s free arm, and often stared up at him with her rheumy eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘An Elf!’ she murmured to herself, as she patted his arm to assure herself that he was real. ‘And a lordly one, at that! I never thought to see the day that old Pansy would see such a sight.’

They had reached the front entrance tunnel to the prison. One of the Noldor, his spear laid aside, sword drawn, challenged them, as he saw the Men approaching. Pio stepped forward and spoke briefly with him. He told her that the Hobbits with the aid of several Teleri had tenuously secured the northwestern section of the caverns outside the main cave. One of the Hobbit warriors within the main cave had come recently to say they feared an influx of guards coming west through the tunnel that lead in from the Locks area.

A sudden commotion, growing louder as it approached from the south, caused them all to become silent. The freed prisoners were put behind them, Kali and Daisy as their guard, as the Elves and Mithadan prepared to meet this new challenge. Daisy quickly passed out the once hidden knives from her cell to the abler Hobbits. Two men came round the bend in the road, and Pio stepped forth with her blade to stop them. She stayed her hand and bade the others do the same. ‘They bear no weapons!’ she said. It was then that a familiar figure came running into view, followed by two Hobbits. ‘Damn their long legs!’ she heard the woman mutter. Pio burst out laughing, and Bird smiled wryly at her.

The two Men, Gilrain and Rumil, joined the small band of the Faithful, who wept to see them safe again. Gamba and Azraph went to stand with Daisy and the other Hobbits. They stared curiously at Kali, then Gamba offered his hand in greeting saying, ‘You are one of the Hobbrim that Cami told us would come to aid us. We thank you.’ Azraph smiled at Daisy, noting how Kali clasped her hand, keeping close beside her.

Pio motioned Mithadan forward. ‘We cannot take the Men through the main cave and out through the river tunnel. They are defenseless. There will be too much confusion, and the probability is that in the heat of battle they will be mistaken for guards and slain.’ He nodded his head in agreement. ‘Let us send Khelek and one of the Noldor to lead them and the freed Hobbits down the perimeter road to the river. They can board the ships from there.’

She gathered the group about her and told them what they must do. Gamba and Azraph looked at one another, and Gamba shook his head ‘no’ at this plan. ‘We cannot abandon our family and friends who fight in the main cave.’ he told her firmly. She smiled at his resolve, and drew the knives from her boots, handing one to each of them. ‘Then you will come.’ she said, ‘and fight with us beside them.’

Mithadan moved toward the small group of Men, and took Isilmir aside for a few moments. They stood close together, speaking softly, Mithadan’s hand resting on the other’s shoulder. Isilmir nodded when they were done, and rejoined the others. She could not see his face, noting only that he carried himself with the same gentle strength and grace as did her belovéd. She smiled to see them walk away from each other. ‘Root and branch.’ she thought. A small plea escaped her lips that Mithadan might live to see his own children as they branched out from him.

Khelek led the remainder of the Hobbits and the Men south toward the graveyard entrance. The Noldor warrior brought up the rear.

Mithadan led the way through the front prison tunnel to the main cave, followed closely by Bird, Kali, Daisy, Anee, Gamba, and Azraph. Pio, sword drawn, a long knife held in the opposite hand came last.

She entered the cave quickly, and took in the scene. The Hobbit warriors and the Teleri held the main entrance in the north, giving cover to the Hobbit groups struggling to get into the cave and then pass through the tunnel in its southern wall to the river. The tunnel from the Locks was barely secured, though as yet she saw no fighting at its entrance into the cave. There would be heavy fighting in all this area and soon, she noted grimly.

She sighed, and went forward toward the Locks’ tunnel.

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

The Main Cavern was dark, lit dimly only by a torch at the River Tunnel entrance and light entering indirectly from fires set in the Guards' Quarters Tunnel by the Noldor. Mithadan could barely see between the darkness and the smoke. Shadowy shapes of Hobbits and a very few Men flitted by on all sides. Orienting himself as best he could, he moved off toward the North, back towards the Locks.

He had only taken a few steps before he tripped over a body lying on the floor. He rolled to his right and regained his feet settling into a crouch with his sword held before them. Blinking, he looked back towards where Piosenniel and the others should have been. At that moment he was struck behind each knee. As he stumbled, he was struck again in the center of his back and fell sprawling on his face. Small hands fumbled towards his throat even as bodies pinned down his legs and right arm.

"Wait!" he cried. "I'm with Piosenniel..." The hands on his throat paused even as he felt a sharp edge press against his neck. Then the Hobbit sitting astride his back was pulled off by Daisy. "This is Mithadan!" she cried. "He is with me and Azra and Nitir!"

The pressure on his arm and legs was released and he climbed slowly to his feet. A Hobbit stood before him holding a knife. "Sorry," he said before he turned and joined his fellows and moved off across the cave.

Piosenniel's voice drifted to him from the left. "Are you alright?" Ignoring various aches and pains, he nodded. "I cannot see well in here," he complained.

"Then, let the Elf lead," she retorted with a slight laugh. "Why don't you do that," he responded.

They continued on to the North, pausing once to lend aid to a group of Hobbits held at bay by two guards. Just before they reached the tunnel entrance, a stone whizzed by Mithadan's head. He ducked and dodged forward into the perimeter path, where he was nearly skewered by an over-eager Elf before he was recognized. "It's dangerous in here," he muttered.

[piosenniel]

‘By the One!’ she swore, as she hauled Mithadan close in beside her. ‘You have come through the foemen safely this far, I will not lose you to our allies!’ She peered closely at him. ‘Where is the red band you were to wear about your neck?’ she asked him. He reached into the collar of his shirt. The band had come unbound, and now hung loosely beneath his shirt. She reached for it and tied it high on his neck. ‘You look much like the prize turkey.’ she whispered to him, her expression of amusement lost in the smoky haze as she turned and led him down the tunnel eastward to the Locks.

Bird and the two Hobbits had joined the fray at the northern entrance to the main cave. Many who saw Gamba and Azraph thought them wraiths in the smoke, come back to give aid. But a firm touch of Gamba’s hand brought the assurance of their reality and a renewed hope to the Hobbit troops. Bird, by this time had pulled out her sling, and was finding the candlestones to be excellent missiles. The satisfying thunk! of rock hitting the guardsmens’ flesh spurred her on. Anee made quick work of the downed guards with her knife. Daisy and Kali also stood with the Hobbits, their swords flashing red as the dim lights of the fires caught them.

The Elf and man went carefully down the dim corridor, lit by the occasional guttering candle in the lamps along the walls. Most of them had been put out by the Hobbits who had scouted out this passage. To their right were the entrances to the Old tombs. As they passed them, Mithadan paused briefly, as if in salute, and then walked on.

Just a little further on, they met a sentry from the Hobbits who had secured the smithy. Pio stepped forward, showing herself, at his challenge and he led them to where Phura had deployed his troops. She and Mithadan spoke quietly with him. ‘You will soon be needed back in the main caves.’ Mithadan told him. ‘The fighting there is escalating as more of the Hobbit groups make for the river tunnel. We will secure this tunnel for you. Take your troops and head back to join the others.’ Pio put her arm on his shoulder and drew the Hobbit close. ‘Gamba and Azraph have been rescued. They are fighting at the north entrance to the main cave, as is Daisy.’ He looked at her in astonishment, and closed his eyes briefly his lips murmuring words unheard. His eyes were filled with a clear light when he opened them, and he bowed to both the Man and Elf. Then he motioned to his group and they followed swiftly after him, down the tunnel, heading west.

It was just past the entry to the smithy where they first encountered guards heading west. Six of them, swords drawn, and only thirty feet away. She could just make out their feral eyes as they brightened at the easy prospect of killing them both. She pushed Mithadan back down the tunnel, not taking her eyes from the advancing Men. The Elf sheathed her long knife as she stopped at one of the spluttering candles. Both she and Mithadan pulled out one of the smaller dragon-fires and lit it, quickly hurling them before the feet of the first three guards. The pots exploded on impact with a white hot flame. Pitch and resin spattered upward and stuck to the clothes and skin of the first four Men. They screamed and tore at their attire, slapping at the areas where the burning goo clung to them and would not be put out.

The guards who had been most at the rear now pushed their comrades aside and rushed, swords raised, at the Elf and Man. One of them lunged at Pio, and she leapt back from him, thought not before his blade cut her deeply down the left forearm. A gasp escaped her as the pain of it shot up her arm. Then, ignoring it, Pio drew her long knife, laying it across the flat of her sword just ahead of the guard. She caught the guard’s blade as it slashed down again at her, turning it roughly aside with the flat of her sword, and stepping in close to drive her long knife into his throat. Mithadan had by then skewered the other guard, who dropped heavily at his feet. The other four had by now fallen dead, overcome by the burning.

‘There is no point in going any further, Mithadan. There will be more coming now who will seek entrance to the other parts of the caverns through this tunnel.’ He helped her stack the six bodies across the narrow tunnel. Then she placed two of the large dragon-fires among them and lit them, pulling Mithadan quickly back down the tunnel toward the main cavern.

The nauseating, flaming heap would burn for a long time, and prove a grisly and effective barrier to any who sought entrance from that direction.

[ October 31, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Helen's post

Melting silently with his band of hobbits down the smoky tunnels towards the main cavern, Phura relished the new hope that burned within him. The rescue had been a success! Azraph and Gamba were ahead of him-- unscathed, he dared to hope.

Phura's teams emerged into the main cavern, and engaged the guards they found, aided by smoke and darkness. The guards fumbled about, giving themselves away by sheer noise; and the stealthy hobbits maneuvered behind them. The most difficult part was to coordinate the attack in the dark without speaking . The hobbits in Phura's team accomplished this by a combination of touch, and also hearing the progressive fall of the targeted man.

The effect, however, was that the remaining men could hear the demise of their companions, and their frayed nerves made them as taut as a bowstring, so that the attacks became progressively more difficult as the mens' desperation increased. The men began coordinating, calling each other for help.

Phura had five teams, but he guessed that there were now twelve men nearby. The hobbits hesitated, and Phura signalled, and suddenly they all melted into the shadows and smoke. The twelve men circled, weapons outward. Suddenly, a grim chant began. The hobbits were reciting Piosenniel's instructions for mortally wounding an opponent.

Some of the men, listening, tried to jeer at the hobbits. But most of the guards waited silently, swords brandished, shifting their weight. Suddenly a hail of stones pummeled them, blinding them; the hobbits were aiming at their eyes, and their aim was deadly enough that every one of the men had to shield their eyes.

The hail continued as half the hobbits ran into the circle and quickly hamstrung the men, and the rest of the hobbits rushed in. Several of the guards, however, swung their swords wildly behind them even as they fell. Phura was horrified to see three hobbits fall and not rise again, and several more were badly wounded.

He addressed the wounded. "Go now. Don't argue. Go." They headed for the river. Phura checked the fallen, and made a mental note of who they were; but just then more men came in at the entrance, and he had to thrust his grief aside.

He hoped that Azraph and Gamba were still here somewhere, but he could not see them in the smoke. He fought on.

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Nitir and Azra stood together on the lone bluff overlooking the horsepens, their arms tightly linked about each other's waists. Beneath them lay a scene of indescribable carnage. The bodies of some forty guards were strewn about the pens and the adjacent grounds. Scattered among these were a few escapees from the Men's Prison.

Two or three horses also lay on the grass. A single animal writhed in agony, spears extending upward from his left flank and withers, trickles of blood from the base of his wounds seeping into the earth. His shrill, pleading cries were the only sounds rending the silence of the night.

To Nitir, it looked as if some hideous creature had plummetted from above, striking without remorse in a paroxysm of killing and rage. Now, only mangled corpses and bloodied weapons remained, mute discards in a grim tableau. But this had not been the doing of the great wyrms or of any who had accompanied the Star.

"What has happened? Who has done this?"

Azra's words sliced through her thoughts. Nitir shook her head in disgust, "This is not us. There are no hobbits here for rescue."

"Then what?" queried the girl. Her words came with difficulty as she searched Nitir's eyes.

"This thing lies in the hands of the Men." The woman responded harshly. "These guards have butchered their companions and the few prisoners who found their way here, fighting to see who could grab onto an animal and gallop away."

A shudder ran through her body. Why had this happened? These guards were not familiar to her; they were assigned to the Men's Prison. During the rescue of the Faithful, Mithadan had unlocked that compound and left it open, to create the illusion of a general prison break. No one from the Star had blocked that gate, or followed the guards across to the horsepens. They could have walked out of here, or even ridden. Nearly fifty horses had been stabled in the pens. If the guards had helped their companions to mount, two on each steed, every man could have left this field unharmed. There was no need for murder.

For the first time, Nitir understood why the great wave would claim this land in one week's time. The evil of ar-Pharazon and Angthaur had spread deep into Numenor and its people. There was so little goodness left that they could turn on each other without remorse.

But all this lay beyond her own simple task. Where were the children? Please, not here, she thought.

Aloud she said only, "Come. We must search for them."

They looked at each other with grim faces, hoping they would find nothing. Their steps took them throughout the pen, as they bent down to search, body by body, rolling over the Men with difficulty. The horse had stopped bellowing and was now frozen in death. But they noticed a small movement beneath him.

With trembling hands, they searched, pushing the horses head and a pile of weapons out of the way. They found only a Man, lying mortally wounded, his eyes stretched in pain that extended beyond the ability to scream.

"Please," he whispered, pointing at Nitir's bow. "Please," he pleaded again, feebly grabbing onto her skirts.

What he wanted was clear enough. Nitir was not certain what to do. And then the Man turned to her with agony in his face, "I beg you, by all that Eru holds sacred. Let me go."

Nitir sat back and drew an arrow from her quiver. A single shot sped forward. Then she went to the edge of the field, and was sick.

So the bleakness of Numenor touched even her. She could not have said if she'd done right or wrong. Perhaps, if she'd had the time, she would have simply sat by his side and talked. But she had no time. She forced her thoughts forward, struggling to clear her mind.

Nitir did not think the children would wander blindly into the night, without direction. They had come to the graveyards to try and find Gamba, because they had visited Esta there that day. Where else would they have gone? She thought back on the conversations of the children in the study. All day, she'd had to shush them up again and again, because they kept talking about boats and the river. She was certain she'd heard Roka saying such things at least a dozen times.

She wasn't sure, but it was the best chance they had. It was getting late. They had to try again and quickly. "Come, Azra, to the river." The two women raced across the grass as swiftly as they could.

[ November 02, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan halted Piosenniel and grasped her wrist so that he might examine her wound. Then he stripped off his left vambrace and handed it to her. "Tie it tightly," he instructed. "It will staunch the flow of blood."

They continued back down the tunnel. From behind them came shouts. Guards were attempting to enter the tunnel either from the Locks or the smithy. They reached the Elven guard at the mouth of the tunnel and warned them of the coming onslaught. Two Elves crouched down holding their spears at ready. Two bowmen stood behind them, ready to let loose their arrows. Elves wielding axes stood to the sides. Mithadan and Piosenniel took up positions next to the bowmen with Bird and the Hobbits behind.

Several guards came racing down the tunnel. Two fell with arrows in their throats. The next two were impaled upon the spears. One burst through, knocking over a crouching Elf, only to be slain by a blow from an axe. Then the melee spilt out into the perimeter tunnel.

The encounter was quick but deadly. Another guard fell with an arrow in his chest. Heavy blows were dealt by the axemen as the spearmen retreated and drew their swords. Piosenniel advanced into the fray, her sword clashing against that of a Numenorean. Gamba and Azraph slashed at a Man who had leapt upon the toppled Elf. Mithadan grappled with an opponent armed with two knives. He threw the guard to the floor and silenced him with a blow to the head. The last remaining Man fled back up the tunnel shouting for help. Weary but whole, the Elves resumed their positions.

Mithadan leaned against a wall, breathing heavily. His cloak was tattered and his clothing covered with blood. A red gash had been opened on his right arm. "We cannot hold them long if many more come," he panted. "I hope all goes well at the Guards Quarters Tunnel."

"If we played candlestones, then many of the guards would have been in the Main Cave," said Gamba. A fey light was in his eyes, but he held his knife high. "We might be harder pressed here than there."

The guards' bodies were piled into the mouth of the tunnel while they awaited the next assault. They did not wait long. More Men charged their position. This time, after the Elves let their arrows fly, Piosenniel lit a pot of dragonfire and threw it at the feet of the advancing guards. The Elves averted their eyes from the carnage and stepped back as heat and foul smoke poured from the tunnel. Piosenniel lit a second pot and threw it into the fiery opening. The piled bodies caught and burned as well.

Mithadan and Piosenniel stepped into the North end of the cave. There, the battle had subsided and of the few Hobbits that remained, all were moving to the River Tunnel. They looked to the West. No Hobbits could be seen entering from the annexes there.

"I think it is time to begin our withdrawal," said Piosenniel. "It appears that all who are able are escaping."

"We must check the annexes," cried Azraph. She and Gamba raced off before they could be restrained. Mithadan turned back towards the flame-filled tunnel. Shouts could be heard there, but none could approach the conflagration. Soon the Hobbits returned. "We can find no one there alive," said Gamba.

"Then we must retreat," cried Piosenniel. She turned to the Elves. "Proceed down the perimeter to the Front Prison Tunnel. Give your fellows aid there if it is needed. Then block the tunnel with fire as here and retreat to the Graveyard Tunnel. Wait there until we signal. We shall set dragonfire in the Main Cave when it is time to go. If you see no signal but guards come from the East, go on to the River Tunnel and escape."

The Elves nodded and turned to go. Piosenniel took another bag of dragonfire and threw it into the Locks passageway. The flames erupted even higher. Then a rumbling could be heard and a portion of the tunnel collapsed.

"Let us go," cried the Elf. She led the way
around to the East followed by Mithadan, Bird and the Hobbits.

[piosenniel]

It was pitch black now along the perimeter road. All the candles had gone out, and only the wavering light from the fires still burning in the Locks tunnel reached feebly to the path. It was smoky as they passed the corridor leading to the Locks, and eerily quiet, with only the sound of their running steps to break the silence. Daisy stopped at the entrance and then sprinted into the smoke. Pio halted the others and ran after her, cursing the impulsiveness of her action. Curses turned to praise as Daisy ran back toward her holding two thick, flaming brands in her fists. Pio hurried her out and they stood coughing, eyes tearing on the road.

‘It was one of my jobs when I was here at first.’ She told the Elf. ‘I had to stack them in the corner of the alcove for the guards to use.’ She turned her head away and sniffled her runny nose; then turned, and held Pio’s gaze with her own. ‘Sometimes they used them for light, but mostly they just beat us with them.’ Pio reached out for the brands giving one each to Kali and to Gamba. She pulled Daisy tight against her, and whispered in her ear. ‘Never again, little one!’ She kissed the tangled curls on the top of her head, and urged her on.

Kali and Gamba ran before them, lighting the way. They passed the new mines entrance and the tunnel to the new tombs. What Hobbits, Elves or guards had been here were now long gone. They moved on unimpeded.

This small band of warriors was just rounding the perimeter road and turning in a westerly direction toward the guards' quarters when Mithadan called a halt. There was light up ahead, the red glow of the flames made the rock walls seem to weep blood. Shouts rang out and the screams of the dying. They left the brands burning where they had flung them down on the road bed, and moved forward slowly weapons drawn.

The clash and ring of steel against steel filled the area, punctuated by the song of the bowstrings as they snapped in the air sending their deadly missiles deep into the foe. Against the mass of guards, five Noldor held the main entryway – three with swords, two with axes, one to each side of the sword line. Of the eight bowmen, there were now six left. Their stock of arrows was running low, and two had put down their bows to draw their blades. They were weary, and sore, but still all fought on, preventing the Men access to the River.

Angara was there, and even the Wyrm was hard pressed by the number of her attackers. They came at her with long spears, and though she forced them back with her fiery breath, they had just closed in a ring about her. She could not defend against all. And when one craven Man came at her from behind, piercing her deeply on the leg, she screamed in rage and pain and swept the rear line from her with her tail.

The dragon’s scream and the sight of her beleaguered companion ripped through Bird and tore the human mask from her. Her dragon form came on her then and she came against the horde of attackers rending them with tooth and claw.

Mithadan joined the line of Elven swords, as did Daisy and Kali. They advanced upon the line of guards who now faced them. Their blades forced a deadly retreat, as they sought to pen them in a smaller area.

Knives slashing furiously, Gamba, Azraph, and Anee took up the grim business of finishing off those guards who had only fallen wounded or stunned. Phura and his companions had been engaged with this task already, and welcomed the added strength of their fellow Hobbits. The brothers had no time to say the things their hearts wished to say. They looked toward one another as those in combat do, and nodded briefly to each other. Words would come later, when the fighting was done.

Dragon-fire in hand, Pio had gone in search of those who had held back from this main fray. She torched both the barracks and the armory, ignoring the calls of those trapped inside, then ran quickly to the dark and seemingly empty headquarters. Gamba had joined her, and led her through the maze of offices and up the stairs. They saw no one, and as they retreated down the hall back toward the stairs she threw several dragon-fires into open doorways. Papers and wooden furniture caught fire quickly, and the Hobbit and Elf raced down the stairs to safety.

A single Man stood before the door, sword drawn, barring their escape. His uniform was ripped and stained with blood, his dark hair lank with the sweat of fear. His lips were drawn back in a wolfish grin, and from his eyes shown madness.

‘Tarcil!’ hissed Gamba, brandishing his knife.

The Captain lunged at the Hobbit, his blade slashing at him in a cutting arc. Gamba danced back and the blade missed him. Pio stepped in front of Tarcil, shielding the Hobbit. She blocked his wild blows easily, turning them aside with the flat of her blade. He was stronger and larger than she, and try as she might, she could not gain the advantage. She had drawn her long knife and grasped it tightly in her left hand, crossing it over her blade to block his blows. Her wounded left arm grew all the more weak and painful as she used it, and blood flowed out from beneath the vambrace.

Gamba came round the Elf to harry Tarcil with his knife. The Captain ignored him, though his feints often drew blood, intent only on killing the hated Elf. They fought on and she grew increasingly weary. No longer able to hold the long knife in her hand, it clattered to the floor.

Tarcil swung his blade in a flat sideways arc at her. Coming beneath her blade, the edge met her right side hard. The force of the impact knocked the breath from her, and she crumpled to the floor. Her sword fell from her grip. The captain lunged at her, intending to slit her throat. Gamba grabbed the Elf’s sword with both hands and drove it deep into the chest of the advancing Man, killing him.

Smoke and flames had made their way downstairs by now. Gamba pulled the Elf from the burning building and sat numbly on the ground, cradling her head in his lap. Behind them the fires raged on.

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Rose/Sharon joint post (but taking the spear was Rose's idea, and all her thoughts/ action of this sequence as well!

Ahead of them, at the foot of the hill, lay the River Siril. Few houses or buildings remained along the bank, as they'd been cleared out on orders of the king in an effort to isolate the prisoners. One or two fishing vessels were docked alongside the river awaiting the next morning when they would push out to sea. They were small things, holding no more than three or four Men.

The two women walked to the edge of the hill, looking downward on the river. The fog that had covered the land was even more dense here. It was difficult to see anything beyond the broadest outline of the water and the boats. Nitir strained her eyes for a glimpse of young hobbits, but to no avail. The children had seemingly vanished without a trace. Even if they could be found, she wasn't sure how they would ever get back to the Elven ships. The hobbrim escorts were nowhere to be seen. They'd probably gotten the last hobbits through and departed back to safety. No one from the Star even knew she and Azra, or the boys, were missing. A tendril of fear rooted in Nitir's heart, but she quickly pushed it back.

Then, from somewhere in the darkness and silence, could be heard the cries of a young child who was clearly struggling without success to hold back a flood of tears. It sounded a bit like Ban. The noise seemed to be from the adjacent boat, but it was hard to tell with certainty. With the speed of youth, Azra sprinted ahead on the path towards the vessel, leaving Nitir behind to make her way more slowly down the steep hill.

As she reached the river's edge, the girl had her first clear view of the scene and could glimpse three children huddled together at the very front of the docked boat. Two men towered over them brandishing harpoons. A few words came floating over to her ears, filled with hideous intent, "Look what we've got here. Rats, little rats. I hear they're good for sport."

Azra wondered where the smallest boy had gone. She could not see him anywhere.

Little Maura had managed to escape the detection of the men by hiding behind a barrel, one of several which had been left standing on the docks. He'd become separated from the older boys, and was now crouched down in terror, wondering whether he should try and clamber up on the deck of the small boat to get close to them again. But the Men with their harpoons frightened him. They looked too much like guards. When Maura spied Azra, he cried out and began to run in her direction along the long wooden dock, hoping she could do something about those men.

But Nitir and Azra weren't the only ones to see him running. The two men on the ship looked out and saw one of their prey escaping. The Man could certainly have run down and scooped up the boy under his arm with little effort. But either because of an automatic reaction, or perhaps out of cold blood, the Man hurled his harpoon at the youngster.

Azra saw this and in a single moment what seemed like a thousand thoughts raced through her head. She thought of the Shire, of her friends, of Maura, but most of all her promise to Nitir that they would both make it through that night. Rose threw aside this last thought and hurled herself in front of Maura, her head hitting the wooden post along the edge of the dock, as she landed with a thud.

You might think it would be painful to have a spear piercing your side with your own blood spilling out onto the ground. Azra could only feel a numb disbelief at what she'd just done. She didn't have much time to dwell on this since the next moment, as she hit the ground, she lost consciousness.

Nitir stopped dead at the base of the hill, unable to assimilate what had just occurred. The toddler came racing up, clinging fiercely to her skirts. A second harpoon whizzed by in their direction, just two or three inches to the side. Finally, she reacted. Nitir quickly pulled out two arrows and cocked her bow, first once and then again. This time she shot with deadly speed and aim. One-by-one, the arrows found their mark, points and shaft buried deep inside the men's chests, only the feathers sticking out. One man dropped to the deck with a gasp, while the other, who'd been leaning against the rail, tottered forward and then heaved left, keeling into the river. Instantly, the children leapt from their prison and ran forward, mobbing the woman in happy relief.

Nitir stopped to make sure they were not hurt, then broke loose from their hugs and raced over by Azra. She gently tugged back and forth at the lancehead and managed to loosen it from the flesh so that it came free. The wound was grievous, but Nitir could not say exactly how deep. She tried to staunch the bleeding with her skirts. It slowed a little, but, to her dismay, did not stop. Azra was unconscious, and showed no sign of waking.

Their only hope was to return to the ship. But how? It was too late to retrace their steps and go back inside the tombs. An enormous ball of smoke and fire hung over the entire prison compound, and probably blocked all the entrances except for the river tunnel itself. And how could she walk anywhere with Azra so grievously wounded? On her own, she might have swum up the river to the ship, but with the small boys and unconscious girl in her care, this was not a possibility.

The children had gathered near Azra's body trying to show their concern. Little Maura ran about in circles, oblivious to their sadness, rhythmically chanting to himself. "Birdie, Maura want pretty birdie."

Nitir gathered the toddler in her arms, "Hush now, I need to think a minute."

"But Maura want birdie, black and white birdie." He pointed to the sky.

Nitir looked at Maura. She saw something quite remarkable. The child had a fey look in his eye, a knowing akin to wisdom, almost as if he held lore somewhere in his brain that had been preserved and hidden, waiting for the moment when it was needed, and when his own body would mature. He was one of those rare hobbits who saw and felt things others just passed by.

It was at least worth a try. Their chances were small, but anything was better than sitting and doing nothing. She'd done it before with Angara. Why not one of the others fighting in the tombs? And, for some reason, Nitir knew that Maura was right. It had to be Bird who would come this time.

She snuggled the child into her body, and whispered to him, "Think about Birdie real, real hard, as hard as you can, and ask her to come to us." Then Nitir closed her eyes and tried, as she'd never tried before, to tell someone, anyone, to send the great dragon to their aid.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

The screaming of Angara blending with the answering scream of the great silver and black dragon that suddenly had appeared in the tunnel with her. The two wyrms would come in low, protecting their soft underbellies from the sword strokes and spears of the Men.

The tunnel was cramped, but the scaled heads on the long, reptilian necks would snake through the melee with the speed of striking adders, picking up the guards and piercing them with stone daggers of their teeth and smashing their forms against the walls of the caves. Those few guards who had made through the gauntlet of Men and Halflings to attack the beasts were ripped asunder by shining, adamant claws.

And deep within the being of the dragon, Birdie the skinchanger was screaming her head off. Bird was a creature of stealth and flight. She would not ever have been called a coward, never having left a friend in a pinch, but she had always preferred subterfuge and cunning to the direct attack and before joining the crew of the Lonely Star, had never assumed the role of soldier, (Though she had fled from her share of advancing armies.) The sights, smells and sounds of the Battle of the Tunnels were overwhelming.

But not as overwhelming as the form of the dragon. Never had she felt such an alien in her own skin as she did when she took on the aspect of the Wyrm. Her heart and mind was raging with the joy of combat and destruction. Her body rejoiced in its massive strength and superiority to the puny creatures that surrounded her, and died so easily. Bird's own, small spirit fought equally as hard against this other spirit unleashed within her, but it was becoming harder and harder to tell whether she wore the dragon, or the dragon wore her.

Then, as often happens in battle, a lull in the assault occurred. It was unclear whether the field had been won, or the enemy was only reassembling, but it was suddenly quiet in the tunnels, except for the groans of the wounded, the harsh breathing of exhausted combatants, and the drip of blood.

Pio and Mithadan were together, examining and dismissing each others wounds, when suddenly the Elf stared intently ahead, then called to her friend, "Bird! To the River! Cami and Rose are there with the lost children. They need you to take them to the ship, before other find them. Hurry!"

"No!" growled Bird. "You and Mithadan are wounded. I will not leave you here". She flexed her black claws like a cat kneading, and gazed at the carnage around her. Bird did not want to leave her friends, but the creature surrounding her did not want to leave the battle.

Pio gazed at the whirling silver eyes of the dragon and said quietly and firmly. "Birdland, change to your raven form now, and go. Now!"

The dragon disappeared, and the small black and white crow appeared, and sighed with weariness and relief. Then shrugging its shoulders as if it were putting on an old, familiar cloak, it spread its wings and took off down the tunnel.

*************************************

Cami cradled the wounded, silent Rose in her arms and kept up her feverish, silent calls to whoever might hear. When the little crow landed beside her, the Halfings child beside her cocked his head in puzzlement and said "Birdie?" Then he tried to grab a fistful of wing.

Bird gently disengaged her limb from the groping fingers and changed to woman form, bending over the still bleeding form of Rose. "Rose! What happened? Why are you not with the other children? What are you all still doing here?"

"There's no time to explain now. We need to get back to the ship. Change to your dragon form and carry us to the Star, Bird. Hurry!"

Bird hung her head in weariness, but Cami's attention was still on Rose's wound, and she did not see look of dread in the skinchanger's eyes. Then the great, shadowed form rose up among the Halflings. The toddler held out it's arms and chuckled with delight. "Birdie! Big birdie!"

"Get on." the dragon growled.

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As she was about to vault onto the back of the winged beast, Cami took a moment to study the inert form of Rose sprawled on the ground, still bleeding heavily. She stopped in horror. If she did not take some action now, the girl would perish before they even reached the Elven ship. The woman vacillated and wondered what she could do.

Once again, the dragon roared, "Get on now!"

Cami stared at Bird with something akin to anger, "Rose lies badly wounded. I do not know how badly. There is something I must do."

She scrambled quickly towards the boat, yelling over her shoulder, "Wait here. I promise to hurry."

The dragon part of the creature drummed great claws on the ground in an impatient, staccato rhythm, overcome by the desire to return to the fray. The Bird part, locked deep inside, looked out with concern at the still figure of the girl whose chest rose and fell so slightly that it was hard to tell whether she lived or died.

Cami was consciously aware of none of this. Her sole concern was Rose. She scrambled about on deck, then wrenched out her knife to cut a long piece off one of the ropes, another thin strip from the base of a fishing net, and a similar swatch of sail. Then she ran back to the girl.

"Help me, Roka," she demanded. Hold these, and hand them to me when I ask." Cami forced the girl's body upward, and tore off her blood-soaked clothing, wrapping the long strip of sail around her as tightly as she dared. Then she bound it with the fishing net over the outside and held the net in place with several strong knots in an effort to staunch the blood.

She again spoke to Roka. "Help the others climb onto the dragon and have them sit in front of you. I will mount in the middle with Rose propped ahead of me. We'll use this to help us all stay on." She held up the coil of rope.

Cami tied the noose around Bird's neck, then secured the rope around each waist, including her own, with many knots. The dragon turned her whirling eyes to protest this unorthodox arrangement, but then thought better and only shook her head in disapproval.

Think what you like, groused Cami, I will not have children falling off into the river, since I can not hold onto them all at once.

With a single lunge, the dragon ascended towards the skies, then veered south down the river, quickly leaving the tombs behind. Cami and the children clung tightly to the bird and to their halter of rope. Yet, unlike that glittering night in Beleriand, only a few months before, never once did the woman look back.

But inside her head, she spoke to the stars, which she knew lay hidden behind the clouds, "Maura, I have done what I promised. I have kept my vow to you. And now I truly know what I never understood in Minas Anor, how I love my people, for their resilience and sturdiness as well as their laughter, and the kindness of their ways. And I will live among them, and seek to nurture the strength of their hearts, even though the sad memory of the past with all its lore and wisdom again slip away."

The great dragon bellowed in the air as it sighted the first Elven vessel in the long queue of ships. Slowly, Bird began her descent.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami could see the deck rushing up to them as Bird angled in for her descent. The woman fumbled with the knots in the rope, undoing several of them in preparation for the landing. She managed to get the children's halter untied, as the dragon alit on the deck. The wyrm bated and reared up, coming to a complete stop and shaking her head in complete frustration. The boys slid off her rear one-by-one, into a gentle pile just behind. Cami clung on for dear life, holding Rose in her arms.

"Get off," Bird roared, "I must return. The Man still fights in the tunnel." She lunged about, her wings beating against the air, and quickly rose up into the skies, veering in the direction of the tombs. Her black and silver body could barely be glimpsed an instant later, silhouetted as it was against the darkness and the thick fog which shrouded the river.

Cami slid down, and hollered for someone to come help her with Rose. Two Elves ran forward to support the girl and administer to her wounds. One of them, she noted with relief, was Khelek.

"Have Mithadan or Pio returned?"

Khelek was sliding his fingers over Rose's body, undoing the makeshift banadage which Cami had contrived. He shook his head no, then added, "But we expect them back very soon." His fingers continued to work without ceasing on the girl. Then he stood up, "We must get her below. This spear was no small thing. It missed her heart by an inch or two. And, if you had not strapped her into the sail with the netting, she would already have died from loss of blood."

As Khelek looked more closely, he saw a large buise and scrape on the girl's head which must have come from her stiking something hard. This was not good either. But he said nothing more to Cami.

The tears that had been held back for so long came cascading down the woman's face. Please Rose, she pleaded, do not die. You are so young. And the hobbits have seen too much death. In the back of her mind she chided herself for taking so long to react. It should have been her, not Rose, lying in that bed. Then she ran below to follow the Elves who were now lifting up her friend to take her below to a cabin.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Smoke whirled abut them, and Gamba coughed, and then worried about the elf he cradled. Looking down at her, he whispered, "Piosenniel." Suddenly he smiled in disbelief that he cradled a legend in his arms; and then tears started, and he caressed her brow. "Hang on. You must hang on. Don't let me lose you too."

He thought of Mithadan, the Man that had fought with them, and wondered where he was; someone, elf or man, would come for them. In turmoil he balanced between gratefulness that Piosenniel was still alive, and grief over his own lost "Pio", his Esta; he had held her head in his lap, like this, gazing at the stars only last night. Her voice echoed in his mind: "We will see the stars again." He could not see the stars now. He wondered if Esta could.

"Hang on, Piosenniel, " he said aloud, and listened to her labored breathing.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Rose had been tucked into the bed, with a clean bandage about her chest. Khelek looked over to Cami, and shook his head, "I have done everything that I know how. I can not say if she will live or die. To take a Man's spear in the side is no small thing for a hobbit. The wound is great and gaping, and she has lost much blood." He said nothing of his worry about the injury to Rose's head.

"Is there nothing we can do?" Cami begged.

Khelek thought, and then responded very slowly, "There are those among us who have greater skill in such things. Perhaps, Idril...." His words trailed off.

"I will stay with her until we shift out of the river." Cami said to the Elf. "We can not bring healers here till then. And I fear they will be very busy going from boat to boat. If I had a free choice, I would sit by Rose's side until she awakes, however long that would be, but there are things I must do for the other children. Hobbit families are split up and grieving. There is so much to be done."

Cami shook her head and put it down in her hands. The tombs had been the testing grounds for the Man and the Elf. Her own doom was far different. To rescue bodies from a hellish nightmare was one kind of challenge. To put back spirits into anguished hearts was another. She was afraid there was a great deal of that to be done, especially among those who would chose to sail to the Anduin.

"Khelek, when I'm not here, could you make sure someone is with Rose at all times?"

The Elf nodded his agreement. He went out the door and softly closed it, leaving Cami beside Rose's bed, grieving in silence.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Mithadan]

When the last of the guards that had forced their way into the perimeter tunnel had been slain, Mithadan fell to one knee, his breath coming in painful gasps. Azraph looked at him with concern, thinking the Man to be sorely hurt, but could see only trickles of blood issuing from wounds on his arms. After a moment, he hauled himself to his feet and, without a word, entered the path into the guards' quarters, following the course that Piosenniel and Gamba had taken.

He approached the stairwell and gasped, seeing the Elf crumpled on the floor lying in the arms of the Hobbit. Coming to her side, he found she was breathing heavily and grimacing in pain. Her cloak and tunic had been gashed at her side and he pushed the cloth away, seeking a wound. Instead, his hands touched her mithril shirt, and, finding it unblemished, he sighed with relief.

Piosenniel sat up, clutching her side, and accepted his help in coming to her feet. Gamba lifted her sword and knife from the ground and accompanied the two as they shuffled towards the Main Cave. As they passed through the mouth of the tunnel, Angara hissed upon seeing the Elf leaning so heavily upon the Man. Piosenniel raised a hand to assure the wyrm. "Nothing but a bruise," she said with a grin. "No cause for alarm."

Bird shrunk back to her human form and took the Elf from Mithadan. He passed through the circle of Elves and looked into the Main Cavern. While shouting could still be heard to the North, the Cave was free of any sign of life. He withdrew his last bag of dragonsfire and, first lighting it, threw the container into the open space. As it caught and burned, he saw Elves peering from openings on the West side of the Cavern. He waved, then gestured to the South. The remaining rescuers began their final retreat to the River Tunnel...

[ October 31, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's Post:

As they approached the River Tunnel, Mithadan heard shouting from the North. Peering into the Main Cave, he saw a number of guards enter from the direction of the Locks. A second group came through the gap in the cavern wall near the Front Prison Entrance. They moved rapidly toward the South seeking to reach the River Tunnel; too late. The remainder of the rescue party streamed through the mouth of that passage, racing toward the ships. A few Elves held the rear against a small band of guards who had followed the teams retreating from the West side of the caverns.

Mithadan looked towards Bird, who had returned to her dragon form. Their eyes met for a moment and the Shapechanger grinned in a toothsome fashion. She ambled off in the direction of the remaining skirmish. Mithadan leaned heavily against the wall waiting his turn to exit the field of battle. After a moment, he straightened himself with a grimace and followed Piosenniel to the tunnel. He reached under his tunic as he walked, then wiped his hand against the wall as he passed, leaving behind a streak of red.

[ November 01, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

The perimeter pathway was free of guards as they made their way back to the Elven ship. In the distance, to each side of the road, there were minor skirmishes going on. Of some concern to Pio was the group of guards battling to win their way through to the exit from the river tunnel. ‘They know they have no hope of stopping the rescue.’ she thought to herself. ‘Death is in their faces, and they fight now only to kill as many as they can.’

She took her sword from Gamba, who walked beside her as did his brother, and ran a short way north, toward the fighting, thinking to lend aid against the guards. But Angara placed herself between the Elf and her intended goal, and forced her back. ‘You are needed on the ship, Elf. Others will take care of such minor problems.’

Pio leaned on her sword, and regarded the Dragon wearily, too tired to make protest, her sudden burst of energy now gone. She sheathed her sword and called the companions close about her. Fatigue dulled their eyes and made their steps slow. Together they made it back to the ship, and were hauled aboard by the Elves and Ancalimon.

Relief shone in his face as he brought her on board. She managed a smile when she saw him. A gasp and low moan escaped her as he grasped her left arm to help her onto the deck. He stripped off the vambrace, his eyes widening as he assessed the still bleeding gash on her forearm. He took her below, and made her sit on one of the bunks while he washed off the old blood, and sluiced the wound with clean water to wash out any debris. She winced as he did this, and looked away, her face pale even beneath the battle grime. Once done he bound the wound with strips of clean cloth, bringing the edges of the gash near each other, that the flesh might begin to knit itself back together in time.

She thanked him, and rose from her seat to go above, but a sudden wave of dizziness assailed her and she staggered as she stood. Ancalimon pushed her gently back onto the bunk, and made her lie down. ‘I must go up and see that all have returned.’ she insisted, raising herself up on her elbows. ‘We will need to shift times soon after that.’

‘You need not do all that, Pio.’ he chided her. ‘I will see that all are accounted for, and when it is time, I will come for you to make the link.’ ‘I will hold you to that, Olórin.’ She said softly, holding his gaze. ‘And so it will be.’ he assured her.

It was another hour before he came to get her. She lay on the bunk thinking that the grim nightmare of this night would never end. Her thoughts turned to those who would not see their way back to safety, the dead and those more unfortunate ones whose spirits would be broken by the unrelenting horror that had assailed them. She wept and entreated whoever might hear her, that, in time, they might be whole again.

Her eyes were dry when Ancalimon came for her, telling her all were now aboard the ships. Her gait was steady; her face composed as she came on deck and strode to the bow. The emptiness that came when battle was done filled her senses and a certain silence hung thick in the air.

Her grey eyes lightened and shone with clear purpose as she turned south and opened her mind to make the links. Their minds sparkled, like bright gems strung on a thin thread. She made the last, gentle link to Veritas, and felt the Elf’s mind reach for hers in relief.

Now! she called.


The smoke of battle and the river beneath them shimmered, and winked out.

----------------

Mithadan's Post:

He paused at the mouth of the tunnel and looked back into the caverns. He heard Bird roar, a sound followed by screams and the smell of burning flesh. The remaining Elves rushed by him towards the river.

Then he heard both dragons screech in anger as they turned to face the guards rushing through the Main Cave. None got within five paces of the wyrms. Then the two sent forth their blasts filling the caverns with flame. When they turned to exit, Mithadan made his way down to the river.

Seizing a bladder, he leaped into the water, gasping as the cold stream surrounded him. Underwater hands seized him and dragged him from the caves and over to the first boat where he was hauled on board to collapse upon the deck. Angara landed next to him and looked down on the sodden Man. Before she could speak, he heaved himself up from the deck and to his feet. The dragon nodded and wandered towards the rear of the ship.

The deck was a blur of activity. Hobbits were being ushered below decks by Elves. The wounded were being tended to where they sat or lay. The fog dissipated and the stars illuminated the vessel with a crystalline light. Ancalimon came up the gangway and began counting the crew of the ship. Mithadan grasped the rail tightly as the crew cast off the lines which had been tied to a nearby tree.

Daisy danced over, spinning and leaping with joy. "We did it!" she shouted over and over again. She halted before the Man and looked up at him with a wide smile on her face. Then her eyes narrowed. Mithadan's eyes were dull and his jaw was slack. His brows were covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Daisy took a step forward, then gasped as a drop of blood fell from his tunic, followed moments later by another and then another. He gazed down at her as she looked wildly about. He knew that she was seeking Piosenniel. "No, Daisy," he said. "Wait. Find her after we leave."

She shifted her weight from side to side, her mind uncertain and conflicted. Just then Piosenniel came up on deck. The Elf closed her eyes and Mithadan felt her thought seek out those on the other ships. Then the smoke of battle and the river beneath them shimmered, and winked out.

As all on board cheered wildly, Mithadan lost his grip on the rail, staggered to one side and fell heavily to the deck...

[ November 01, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ November 03, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Pio heard the cheer go up as time shifted. The clear, calm waters of the sea cradled them safely in her waves. When she turned, she saw they were just off the coastline. There lay the new island, like a small star. The surf rolled gently up to the beaches, and already life had come back to grace the land.

It was the birds which brought back a sudden memory of Númenor before the days of evil and of shadow. Seabirds rose up from the shore and wheeled and turned high above them in the clear air, crying out in welcome and in gladness. So had it been in gentler days, when ships drew near to Andor. She shaded her eyes and saw a flock of kirinki, small scarlet dots against the white sands, flying low. Their soft, piping voices echoed the song of the seabirds.

Further in, on the low lying slopes of Meneltarma, she saw the fragrant shrubs and flowers that clung to them. ‘Nísinen!’ she remembered, smiling now. And here, and there, dotting the slopes were scatterings of saplings – the evergreens and fragrant trees that had once been gifts from the West.

She rubbed her forehead, and breathed deeply. ‘We are safe!’ she murmured to herself, allowing some hope to ease its way back into her heart. Her hand strayed to her belly, cradling the new life there as she looked once more at the new life before her. ‘All safe!’

Daisy had turned from Mithadan to watch Pio as the ships shifted. She, too, took up the cheer as they came to rest in the waters off the new island. Joy became horror when she turned back to smile at Mithadan.

He lay still as death on the deck, and there was blood about him. She knelt beside him, but he would not rouse as she shook him. Her shouts for help went unheard in the general clamor of excitement. She pulled at the cloak of a nearby Elf, and bade him stay with the fallen Man while she went to find Pio. By then several had gathered at his side and sought to rouse him.

The Hobbit ran to the bow, where Pio stood lost in thought, gazing at the land. She clasped Pio by her right hand and pulled her from her reverie. ‘You must come! And quickly!’ stammered the frightened girl. ‘It is Mithadan!’

Pio could get nothing further from Daisy as they made their way at great speed through the crowded deck. As they approached the place where Mithadan lay, the throng parted more easily for them, and an uneasy silence greeted her as people stood back to let her through, their eyes averted.

She was frightened now. And as the last of the crowd which ringed him opened up, she beheld his still figure, the deathly paleness of his face. She gasped, and knelt down beside him, taking his cold, limp hand in hers. Tears spilled from her eyes, mingling with his blood on the deck.

‘No!’ she cried. ‘I cannot lose you now!’

Mithadan! she called out, her mind seeking his.

No answer came.

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

save

[Rose Cotton]

Save

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's Post

Ancalimon stepped forward and gently pushed Piosenniel to the side. He lifted Mithadan's tunic to reveal a wide rent which had been slashed through his mail. Below that were two wounds, the first a cut across his abdomen nearly six inches in length, and the second, smaller as if from
the stab of a knife. Ancalimon explored the Man's injuries with a grave look upon his face, ignoring the commotion around him. Then he opened Mithadan's eyes and gazed into them for a time. He leaned back with a sigh.

"He has lost much blood but neither wound has penetrated to his vitals," he said. "They must be cleaned and then bound tightly to stop the bleeding."

Elves lifted the Man and carried him to a cabin below where Ancalimon stripped him of his cloak, mail and shirt and poured clean water on and around the wounds and then bound them tightly. Then he stood and backed away.

"He will need rest," said Ancalimon. "He is strong and possessed of a great will to live. He may yet survive..."

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Birdland]

The duties on the “Star” and its surrounding flotilla ed had increased drastically since the time crystal had transported ships and passengers to the quiet bay by the remains of Meneltarma. Bird helped when she could with the two patients, flying between Idril's ship and the "Star", but their care was in the loving and capable hands of Cami and Pio, so little was required of her, save the fetching of an occasional item from kitchen or storeroom.

But the feeding and care of the freed Halflings was another matter. Just bedding down all passengers amongst the fleet required all the patience and diplomacy in Birdie’s possession. Most of the younger hobbits wanted to sleep on deck and revel in the breezes playing over them and the glorious field of stars shining down. But more than a few Halflings were overawed by the too vast sense of space after years spent in tunnels and tombs, and insisted that they would much prefer sleeping below decks. The ships were small, but the ocean and sky were vast. It took some getting used to.

Then there was the meeting of Hobbits and Hobbrims. The Sea Hobbits had had time to adjust to the differences between them and their land-locked “cousins”; Cami, Rose, and Daisy had left them with a good impression. But most of the “freed” Hobbits had a hard time accepting that the Hobbrim were actually related to them in any way, shape or form. Patient explanations by Ancalimon, Pio, and Cami helped, and most were touched when they heard Kali‘s story of his long search for his kin, and were impressed that it had been his discoveries and good-heartedness that had led to their own rescue.

In the end, it was the table and the bottle that led to the final acceptance of the Hobbrim as kin. The Hobbits recognized their own love for the good things of life, particularly food, drink and song. It wasn’t long before Hobbits and Hobbrim were gathered around the fire pits at night, sharing tales, laughter and fellowship. The subject of “the choosing” had not yet been broached. That would come in time.

Bird spent much of her time replenishing the larders, milking the sea-cows, driving fish into the nets of the Elves with her dolphin form, and gathering what few edible plants were left on the tip of Meneltarma. The days were short and busy. But at night, she would retire to her old, favorite place in the "Star's" crows nest, and think about all that had happened to her on this long, strange trip. Particularly what had happened to her in the tunnels.

The Battle of the Caverns had left her scarred with its fury and bloodshed, more so than even the Sack of Gondolin, in a way. At Gondolin she had lost her best friend; for a time at least. On Meneltarma she had almost lost herself.

“I am such an ignorant, uneducated creature.” Bird thought as she lay on her back in the crows nest. “Years I’ve spent thinking I know what I am, and what I can do, but that Dragon has taught me better. I know nothing about the gift given to me by Eru, and I almost lost myself, tampering with a form I could not control.” She sat up and gazed down at the sleeping huddled forms covering the deck from stem to stern. “They all think I did a good thing, changing to that Dragon, rescuing Hobbits and carrying folk to safety and all. But they don‘t know what could have happened. Walking on the edge of a sword, I was, and barely controlling something that cared little who was “friend” or “foe”, but just cared for its own pride and strength.” She shuddered as she remembered how her dragon form had gloried in the death and destruction it had rained down upon the Men at the temple and the caves.

Bird’s gaze found the sleeping form of Angara, and wondered briefly if she, too, felt these same emotions, surrounded by the Elves and Halfings she had chosen to associate with. “No. She’s different. One of a Kind, though she can be insufferable at times. Still, the darkness doesn‘t lay in her as it does in that Other. I wonder why that is?”

Then the Skinchanger’s glance fell on another who lay in darkness. The boy, Phura, sleeping with his brother Gamba and his “foundlings” snugged around him like a healing cocoon. Bird knew that the young Halfling’s experiences had also left him in a state of shock and horror. He was one of the few Hobbits who had not “bounced back” from the long imprisonment, the loss of his friends, and the horrific battle. His wide, dark eyes still stared at scenes only he could see, and he cried out in his sleep at times. Bird felt that she should approach him and see if he wanted to talk about the things that haunted him, being more than sure that they would match her own, but she thought he was better off with his own kind. They would know what was best for their child, and would see him through it. There were times though, when Phura’s despairing glance would fall on Birdie, gazing at her intently as she went about her chores. But then a gaggle of Halfling children would sweep him away, grabbing his hand to lead him to some new site, or to teach him a new song that Cami had shared with them. So Bird and Phura had never met or spoken.

Bird sighed, and returned to her own musings on her “situation”. “Whatever I do, I must never, ever, take on the form of the Dragon again. It’s too much for me. If I’m ever to play the role of “warrior”, I must do it in my own form, where I can at least know myself. I suppose Mith could show me how to use a sword, once he’s better again.”

Then she felt a pair of eyes staring up at the crow’s nest, boring into her shoulders. Bird whirled around, and met the wise, golden gaze of Angara far below. And she heard in her head, as clear as if the Wyrm sat next to her and whispered in her ear: “That would be wise, Changeling.“

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[mark12_30]

Phura climbed aboard the ship with Kesha and the rest of his squad, looking over his shoulder and checking that Gamba and Azraph were not far behind. Gamba and Azraph were helping Piosenniel.

Once Ancalimon had taken Piosenniel from their care, Gamba and Azraph stood dripping and scanned the deck of the ship looking for Gamba's children, and for Phura and Kesha. They did not see Phura and Kesha anywhere; they had disappeared.

But from Andril's side, the four children saw Gamba first, and came running. "Gamba! Gamba!" cried Maura, and suddenly Gamba found his legs sturdily imprisoned by Asta and Roka. Kesha, however, was not there to knock him over backwards.

So Azraph oblidged, rather gently and carefully lowering the exhausted Gamba to the deck, and the four children piled on top of him with squeals of delight. Gamba's helpless laughter came in exhausted gasps, ringing awkwardly and jarringly through the silent ship as everyone else kept vigil or worried about the fallen Man. There was no Phura there at the moment to plead for or demand mercy on Gamba's behalf, and Azraph forgot until Gamba was quite breathless. For the moment, Gamba forgot everything else and drowned in laughter beneath the four attackers. When the tickling ceased, he picked up Maura, and then with one arm hugged each of the others in turn, kissing their foreheads, and then he lay back down for a moment, blissfully content as Ban, Asta and Roka sat on him happily.

Several elves had looked up, and sad smiles crossed their faces, and some chuckled softly. Their worry over the man did not abate, but they were glad the children could find a moment of joy.

Piosenniel, hearing the laughter, closed her eyes, placed her hand over her belly, and quietly and fiercely spoke to her children, "You will have joy like that. You will find it. You will triumph, and be glad." It was half promise, half command. Then she wiped away a tear, and turned back to Mithadan.

Gamba did not stay down long. "We've got to find Phura, " he said. "I saw him climb up onto this ship. He must be here, with Kesha. Come on, let's look for him." They got up, and began to look for Phura and Kesha among the crowds.

**********************

Phura sat apart from the crowds, holding the exhausted and sleeping Kesha, huddled among piles of coiled lines and canvas. The other three team members watched over him, concerned. He shivered, and often convulsions shook him that did not come from the cold.

An elf named Adaruin found them, and knelt beside Phura. "Halfling, what ails you? Is the child well?"

Phura's teeth chattered in reply, and Adaruin frowned, and touched his clammy forehead, and probed him for wounds. He found nothing serious. "Are you wounded?" Phura shook his head no; but his eyes were glassy and distant.

Gamba came around the corner, followed by Azraph, and the four children. Phura looked up at them all, but could not speak; he tried to smile but wept instead.

"There you are! Phura? What's wrong? Are you wounded?" Gamba asked, reaching for his brother. Phura shook his head no. Azraph knelt down beside him, but he still could not speak.

Adaruin met their eyes. "Aftermath, " he said. "Some mortals are thus affected by battle. Perhaps grief burdens him, or the memories of fighting and bloodshed. I believe he will recover, but he must be kept warm."

"Warm? " Gamba echoed, putting his arm around his brother protectively. He took another close look at his brother, and then turned to Phura's other three team members. "We'll take care of him, " Gamba abruptly and dismissively told them. They nodded, full of concern, but understanding that Gamba did not want anyone seeing Phura in this weakened state. Knowing better than to argue with him, they left reluctantly.

Adaruin nodded. "Come." He handed Kesha to Gamba, and Adaruin gathered Phura gently into his arms, and stood.

Loremaster saw, and approached them, and he looked up at Adaruin, who held Phura so that Loremaster could see his face. Loremaster nodded. "He is overwhelmed."

Adaruin nodded.

Andril approached, looking like she wanted to speak to Gamba, but she saw Phura, and shook her head. "It will wait."

Loremaster clasped Phura's hand and reached up and felt his brow, and shook his head. "I must continue with the children. You will care for him?"

Adaruin nodded, and reassured Loremaster, who thanked him and reluctantly returned to the skiffs with Andril, where he and Andril were trying to bring children and parents together as best they could.

Adaruin carried Phura into his own room; Gamba, Azraph and the children all followed. Adaruin set Phura down, brought out his woolen great-cloak, and draped it around a corner of his room, and motioned Gamba, and Kesha to sit down on it. They did so, wondering, and then Adaruin carefully placed the shaking Phura in Gamba's arms. Phura lay his head on Gamba's shoulder. Kesha drew close. The four children huddled around them, Maura wondering why Gamba was not holding him. "Come on, " Gamba replied, and Maura clambered up over Phura and nestled against the two of them. Adaruin smiled despite his worry.

"Hold him, and warm him as best you can. I will return with warm food or drink." Adaruin proceeded to firmly wrap all seven of the boys in his cloak; he then fetched a wool tunic, and wrapped Azraph in that, and she sat next to Phura and Gamba and held Phura's hand. He met her gaze, and wordlessly squeezed her hand. Adaruin left.

Phura still shook violently. Azraph drew as close to him as she could, laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she dared.

After what seemed like quite a while, Adaruin returned with two bowls of fish stew. They poured one down Phura's throat, and he swallowed most of it, although his teeth were chattering against the bowl. They passed the other around between the rest of them while Adaruin went to fetch two more bowls. Eventually the inner warmth from the soup took effect, and as the rest of them warmed up, Phura's shaking began to calm down. He gently and quietly wept, and then finally relaxed, and slipped into restless dreams. Surrounded by the other children, Gamba, Kesha and Azraph held Phura 'til dawn.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[mark12_30]

The next morning, Gamba and Kesha were quite stiff. Azraph stretched and went to the kitchen to find them all something to eat, and the children got up and began exploring Adaruin's room.

Gamba looked around the cabin, still holding Phura. Adaruin came in from on deck, and studied Gamba and Phura. "How is he?"

"Still asleep, " Gamba replied.

"No," Phura murmured. "Resting." He sounded weak.

"What happened?" Gamba asked him.

Phura shook his head. "I don't know, " he replied. "Where are we?"

"In my cabin, on board our ship, " replied Adaruin. "You are safe."

Phura sat up. "Barra? Daga, Tamba?" He turned to Gamba. "Esta? Meridoc?"

Gamba shook his head, worrying, wondering. "They're gone, Phura. They're all dead."

"I thought-- I had hoped--"

"What?"

"I dreamed I saw them."

"Where?"

"I don't know."

"Come. Rest, " Adaruin said, lifting Phura out of Gamba's arms and putting him on his own bed. "Sleep again."

Just then Azraph re-entered, bringing more warm stew. Adaruin held Phura up and Azraph held the bowl, and Phura drank the stew, grimacing. "It's different."

"Bad?"

"No.... salty."

She set the bowl aside, and gazed at him, full of concern. He met her gaze, and his eyes were confused; he lay back down. She held his hands, and he drifted off to sleep.

Adaruin turned to Gamba. "Andril wishes to see you, " he said, and Gamba took a lingering look at Phura and headed off to find out who Andril was and what she wanted.

***************

Andril led Gamba to Azra's bedside, telling the story of the little Maura and the spear as they went. Gamba didn't understand it. Nitir looked up as the door opened, and Gamba came in alone. "Andril says you rescued my children, " he said, and then stopped, looking down at the wounded girl in the bed.

"Azra?" he said, in disbelief. "What-- what happened?"

Nitir wearily repeated the entire story, and then looked up as she heard Gamba moan.

"No." Gamba had gone pale, and he knelt by Azra's bedside. "No, not you. Not now. No." He clenched the bedclothes in both fists, and waves of grief and anger fought for control of his soul. Nitir shook herself. She was weary beyond belief, and here was another burden. She stared at him, numbly, and forced herself to respond.

"Gamba. Gamba, get a hold of yourself."

"Not her!" His voice grew wilder.

"Stop it, " Nitir replied. He wasn't responding. Finally she grasped his shoulders and pulled him to face her, her face drawn with weariness.

He was crumbling. "I should have been there, " he panicked, his voice breaking and squeaking. "They're my children. I should have been with them, not her. It should have been me."

"You were a little busy, " Nitir scowled at him, exhasperated. "You can't be everywhere at once." She was weary beyond reason and endurance, and could muster no compassion, nothing to give to the boy but the sheer will to stand by him.

He fell apart, and she could only hold him as he sobbed. He clung to her, and she wearily and awkwardly sat down on the floor; he sat beside her, and she rested her own head on his shoulder as he wept.

He was utterly unreasonable, and stubborn as a mule. She thought of several derogatory names to call him; thinking back to her first dream when she saw him arguing fiercely with his brother, she wearily smiled, and raising her head for just a moment, gave his curly head a gentle kiss, and her heart filled with tenderness towards him. More and more, she wanted this unreasonable, rascally, mule-ish scamp to be a part of her life.

She lay her head back on his shoulder and rocked him gently as he sobbed.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

Gamba stirred, wiped the tears from his face, looked up at Nitir, blushed, muttered something unintelligible, and she let him go. Gamba returned to Phura, subdued. Phura was dreaming. In a gentle voice, Gamba told Azraph that Azra was hurt, and Azraph hurried to see her.

"Hello, " Azraph said to Nitir as she came in.

Nitir smiled. "Hello."

"How is she?"

Nitir shook her head. "I do not know. How is Gamba?"

Azraph shook her head. "Quiet." She knelt down beside Rose. "Azra, listen to me. You have to live. You have to." She put her hand over Rose's. "Don't go. Don't. We need you."

Nitir looked at Azraph. "Do you know her real name?"

"Azra--?"

"Azra's real name is Rose. And my real name is Cami. Camelia."

"Cami." Azraph struggled. "And... Rose."

Cami wondered at Azraph's sudden frown; then Azraph said, "Nobody's calling me Rosph."

Cami smiled wryly. It should have been terribly funny, she thought, but she was too worried about Rose to laugh. Azraph stayed a while longer, and they talked about men, boys, and war.

"Where is your family?" Cami asked her.

"They'll find me. I'm not worried. I've heard that they are all right. I'm not leaving Phura, though."

"Is he all right?"

Azraph tightened her lips, and did not answer. But just then the door darkened, and Gamba re-entered, with Phura leaning on him.

"Hello, " Azraph said, surprised to see Phura up and about.

Phura smiled wanly at her and then looked down at Azra. "How is she?"

"I don't know."

Gamba guided Phura to the wall, and they sat, leaning against it. They stayed a while, and talked with Cami, who repeated her and Rose's real names again.

Phura frowned, and looked at Azraph with a twinkle in his eye. "Rosph."

Azraph indignantly shot him her fiercest glower, and Phura smiled again, but there was a sparkle in his eye. Gamba and Azraph both tried not to look too pleased, and Cami bet herself that Phura was going to be just fine.

She wished she could say the same for Rose. The visitors left after a while, and Cami returned to her lonely vigil.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[mark12_30]

Child's post

Cami gazed up into Ancalimon's eyes. They looked almost as shadowed as her own. For over a day, they had sat together beside Rose's bed, leaving her side only when other responsibilities pressed in. They were still seaching for some indication of change. The wound itself seemed to be healing cleanly. There was no sign of fever or other festering. But Rose did not wake up.

While Mithadan tossed and turned in pain, trapped in evil dreams, Rose lay utterly still, with no movement or even fluttering of her eyelids. She seemed to be locked into some other world where they could not enter. Cami held Rose's hand and talked with her, telling her all the things they could do tgether if she would only return again. But her body did not responded. It remained silent and unmoving. There was no sign that she could hear Cami's voice or feel the touch of Ancalimon's hand on her brow.

Ancalimon shook his head. "I have seen this sometimes after a bad blow. It is not the spear wound, although that weakened her and threw her into shock. She was flung against the wooden docks with great force. It is this." Ancalimon pointed to a large contusion on the girl's head.

"A bruise?" asked Cami. "How can a bruise make this sleep like death?"

"Not the bruise," he responded gently, "but the injury which lies behind the bruise inside her head."

"Can't Idril help?"

Anclaimon nodded, "She has already seen her, and had hoped she would waken on her own. But that has not happened. Idril has powers with both herbs and osanwe. I have even seen her go inside the fea and give it a little push to awaken, although that can be dangerous." He looked out the small porthole and sighed.

Ancalimon took Cami's hand in his and said, "Rose is a stubborn girl, almost as stubborn as you are little Andreth. I will wait here and watch, and call you when Idril comes."

As she turned to go, Ancalimon called her back, "There is something else. I have asked Idril to show you some things about the healer's craft, both you and Andril. Although Andril already has some experience in this, the Elf has much she can teach her. But, Cami, it is you who will need to take these lessons in most carefully."

"Me? I'm no healer. I am a teacher."

"These two things are not so different as you think. And where you are going, both these skills will be needed."

Cami opened her mouth to protest, "But Loremaster has some skill in healing. I am certain of that."

Ancalimon shook his head, "You forget something. The hobbits will be splitting up in two different groups. We need teachers and healers in both places. To tell the truth, I am far more worried about the Anduin than Meneltarma." He whispered this last thought under his breath, almost to himself.

"Cami, your people need a healer. You have the ability to learn this."

She looked at him and nodded, "I will try."

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[mark12_30]

timelines, timelines....argh

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's Post: Second Age, one year earlier.

Isilmir looked out over the prow of the Numenorean vessel which he and his men had piloted down the Siril after their rescue. He saw, far to the East, the masts of Elendil's small fleet and the ship made its way toward the vessels of the Faithful under a white banner which they had raised to avoid alarming those on the Nine Ships.

He thought back to the battle under Meneltarma and their rescue from the Locks. They had been escorted through the tunnels by the one named Mithadan and his comrades. Then before Mithadan had turned back to the battle, he had bade an Elf to escort the Numenoreans to the river. But first he had taken Isilmir aside and spoken to him. Take your Men to the river and accept the aid of those there in reaching a Numenorean craft which is moored on the Siril. Take that vessel as yours and go down the river to its mouths and turn to the East. Off the East coast of Elenna you will find Elendil and the Faithful and their Nine Ships. Join them. Do not tarry on your way for there is little time left and the days of Numenor are drawn to their close. Be assured that though Numenor may fall, this shall not be the end of the Men of the West. And though many tasks and hardships may lie ahead, know this: from you in ages hence there will spring a Star which will do great deeds for the good of the peoples of Middle Earth. But you must swear this to me. That you and those with you will tell the tale of your rescue to no one, not even your families or those you love, nor shall you mention ever the presence of the Halflings here on Numenor. And Isilmir gave Mithadan this oath.

His crew had taken the oath as well, but not before some asked him, "Who is Mithadan? And who is the Lady of the Locks who possessed the power of a dragon?" And Isilmir answered, "I know not, save that they acted out the will of the Valar and thus, like us, are among the Faithful. Maybe they were of the people of the Valar themselves. We shall never know. But we owe them our lives and this oath and let none dissent for my heart tells me that we have been on the edge of great deeds and I hold Mithadan to be our brother in hope for the future."

So Isilmir and his Men made their oath. And days later when winds whipped the sails of the Nine Ships and the oceans grew grey and wild and rose and engulfed the Isle of the Star and drove their vessels into the East, they wept; both for for that which was lost but also for the hope for the future which had been gifted to them by a Man that they had never seen before and would never see again.

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[mark12_30]

Pio's post:

Once the shift in time had been made, then Idril answered Ancalimon’s call to come and tend to Rose. He worried about the wound from the spear, but more so he worried about the blow she had taken to the head.

She had seen Rose several times now, and today was pleased to find her looking less pale than before. Cami and Andril, had been sitting with her, and said Rose had not opened her eyes or responded to their voices in any way. Idril sat on the bed next to Rose, and opened her healer’s chest to take what she needed from it.

She spoke softly to Rose as she moved through the motions of her care. The Hobbit was pale, her heart and breathing still rapid from the blood loss she had suffered. She slipped in and out of consciousness, moaning softly when the pain assailed her.

The wound itself was grievous. It was deep, penetrating to the bone of the ribcage, cracking the rib which had stopped it. She had cleaned out the gash, and now packed it with healing unguents. Soft, absorbent dressings were laid over it, and a clean band of linen bound round the Hobbit’s chest.

‘Come help me!’ she called to Cami and Andril, who had watched how she worked with the wound. ‘We must prop her up a little so that she can breathe properly.’ Andril and Cami gently raised Rose up, as Idril tucked pillows and rolled blankets behind her for support.

Rose moaned as they moved her, and Idril gave her a few drops of the honey-colored elixir to ease the pain. The Hobbit’s lips moved greedily toward the sweet liquid and would have more, but Idril eased her head back against the pillow with her hand, saying, ‘No more, little warrior! That is enough for someone your size.’

Sharon's post:

Then Idril explained to the women that the mind sometimes shut down after a grievous injury. Often it awoke naturally, but sometimes not. This seemed to have happened to Rose. They would try and help her.

"First, you must join with me. Otherwise, you will not be able to understand what I do to help Rose."

Andril concentrated, carefully focusing her mind until the link was established. Cami sat back and blurted out, "I'm not sure I can do that."

Idril looked sternly at her. Then she spoke in a firm, if kindly, manner, "I have been told otherwise by Piosenniel and Ancalimon. This is your friend. If she responds to anyone at all, it is most likely to be you. We need you in this link."

Cami sat down and took Rose's hand in hers. Somehow, a physical touch made it much easier. She tried to do what she'd done the night of the rescue. Only this time her focus was on both Rose and Idril. Her mind jogged. It was almost as if a portal was suddenly thrust open to reveal something that had been there all along, only cleverly hidden from view.

Good, you have not only linked with me, but also the girl.

Then Idril turned her attention to Rose and spoke to her, Come back little warrior! We await you.

For an instant, Cami thought Idril was talking to her the way she would with a friend, but then she realized the words were coming through her head instead.

I will move in and try to wake her. Andril, Cami, watch what I do. Cami, if she responds, she will probably come to you, since she knows you as a friend. Do not thrust her aside. Speak with her first with your own thoughts, and then try bringing her outside with words. The whole idea is to open her up to the outside again.

The Elf leaned over Rose. Her face, with its shining light, spoke of a goodness and beauty that went beyond the things of this world. She caressed the girl's mind, only with thoughts and feelings instead of physical touch. This went on for several moments and still Rose slept. But slowly very slowly, there was movement. First the movement of thoughts, and then the tentative glimmerings of a body reawakening.Almost instinctively, Cami began to talk. Only this time it was inside, not outside.

Rose, are you here? It's Cami. I'm worried about you. Are you alright?

The woman sensed a tiny response from her friend. She went inside Rose's mind and did something very close to gently shaking her, that is, if such thoughts could be translated into physical movement. Cami prodded again.

Rose, is that you? Wake up. I need you back.

The girl looked at her friend and peered quizzically. How did you get in here?

Never mind that now. We both need to get out. Cami gently pulled Rose and herself to the other side, and continued talking, only now out loud.

Suddenly Rose blurted back, "I told you we'd make it alright. I promised we'd get through together, and we did."

"We certainly did," A tear slipped down Cami's cheek. She brushed it aside, and sternly told herself not to start weeping.
The girl lay back on her pillow exhausted. She closed her eyes to sleep, but this time it was a sleep of grace and healing.

Idril showed Cami how she could clean the wound and replace the bandage for her friend. "Now we must let her sleep. She will be fine. She is young and strong. Her spirit will fight to come back, but the healing will take time."

Relief flooded over Cami's face. Now she turned to ask about Mithadan. Idril answered, "I am hopeful. But his wound still festers, and he has not yet spoken. Piosenniel guards over him like a mother hawk with her brood, and will not let any other tend to his needs. Still, it is early. We may see improvement in the next day or two."

Then, Idril made Cami promise that she would spend time with Andril as she made her rounds among the ill and injured hobbits. "It is important that you learn the arts of a healer. Your people will need it. You have skill in this, Cami. Even I can see that in what you have done for Rose."

Pio's post:

Before leaving the room, the Elf had opened her wooden chest and was putting back the herbs, unguent, and elixir she had used, when Andril put a hand on her arm. ‘Yes?’ she asked, looking closely at the Hobbrim.

‘If you would, Lady Idril,’ said the woman, ‘Cami and I are very much interested in the numerous medicinal supplies you carry in that chest of yours. I have never seen so many before! It would be wonderful to have such at hand when need called.'

Idril looked from one to the other, appraisingly. ‘Ancalimon and Piosenniel have spoken with me about your need for such. She would have spoken to you about this herself, but Mithadan is much on her mind these days. It was to be her gift to each of you before you went your separate ways.’ She took out the layers of trays within the chest and arranged them on the rug. She showed them all her assortment, giving a brief description of what each was used for.

‘What are these?’ asked Cami, noting that in each discrete section of the tray there was always a small envelope tucked beneath the herbs themselves.

Idril pull one from beneath the leaves piled on it and opened it, shaking the contents onto the palm of her hand. ‘These are my most precious treasure – the seeds from which each herb springs.’ She carefully returned the seeds to their envelope. ‘You will each receive some of each of these seeds so that you also may continue to renew your stock of herbs.’

Idril placed the trays back into the chest and left it open for the moment. ‘There is one thing which you will need to do before you take the chests I will prepare for you.’ ‘Anything!’ cried Cami, overwhelmed at the generosity of the gift.

‘There is my note book of herbal lore and usage that will need to be copied.’ She pulled out a fair sized notebook bound in well worn leather, filled with drawings, histories and recipes for each herb. ‘If you can come for a short period of time each day until we leave, you can get this copied and we can discuss any questions you have as you go along.’ She placed the notebook carefully on the top tray of the chest and closed the chest lid securely.

‘Can you do this?’ she asked, turning back to face them.

Sharon's post:

Andril nodded her head and gracefully bowed. "Your offer is most welcome. It will be a joy to do as you have asked. I will come each morning to copy the notebooks and learn more of these things. The hobbrim on Meneltarma will bless you for this gift."

Andril prepared to go, but first came up to Cami. "Don't forget. You promised to come tomorrow. We will meet with Lady Idril first. Then you'll come along with me when I visit those hobbits and hobbrim who still need the services of a healer. I'm afraid we have many of those, though I hope to see their numbers lessen." Cami weakly nodded. Then Andril curtsied again to Lady Idril, and left.

The room was filled with an awkward silence, until the Elf addressed the woman again, "And you, Cami, what do you say to me? Can you do this?"

Cami sighed, and wondered what to say. Just how much of the truth should come out of her mouth? This was a great Lady, and she would surely not want to hear her concerns. Perhaps, a polite 'thank you' would do.

But, before she could get her words out, the Elf spoke again, "Cami, what is wrong? You are not one to have trouble expressing your views."

Cami struggled for words to explain, "Lady Idril, this is truly one of the most wonderful gifts anyone has ever given me, especially because it is not just for me, but also for my people. Your generosity touches my heart."

"It is only that....that all of this is happening very fast. I never thought of myself as a healer or master of lore. I grew up in a family of simple Harfoot farmers who struggled to make its way. Before this voyage, I lived in a household of Men and took care of small children. No one thought me wise or learned. If I wanted to know things, I went to the great archives in the city and looked into ancient books. But I kept it to myself. No one came to me for wisdom or looked into my eyes and asked me to bring healing to them."

"I would like to do these things for my people, but I do not know if I can. I am not like Maura or Andril or Loremaster. They are from ancient, respected families. My family's only distinction was sowing and harvesting crops. Mithadan has noble lines of ancestry which go back to King Elros, and Piosenniel is an Elf with all that such a wonderful title implies, but I am just a nobody...."

Cami stopped. As usual, she'd opened her mouth and said a bit more than she had intended to.

A smile played on Idril's mouth. "So that's it."

"You will have to admit that most of those whose names appear in the Lore from the First and Second Age have a more illustrious lineage than mine. Sometimes, I think I have banged into the wrong tale by mistake, and someone will be chasing me out quite soon."

Idril cut in, "Ancalimon warned me that you could be headstrong. He was certainly right on that account. Cami, I can tell you. Neither Ancalimon or I would be offering you these things if we did not feel you had the personal gifts to do a good job and a heart that was inclined to goodness. You must stop doubting yourself."

"And, if the lore of the First and Second Age fails to record the brave deeds of those from simple, humble families, then perhaps the mistake lies in those who do the recording and not in the actions of those good folk. Surely, you must have learned that from Numenor. With all their great monuments and long bloodlines, most of them miserably failed to understand right from wrong. That is what makes the difference Cami, that knowing and understanding, that rightness of the heart, not who your ancestors were!"

"Remember this too. There are different ways of wisdom, not only one. You are not a copy of Adril or Loremaster. Find the path that is right for you, and do not be afraid to go on it."

"Now that you understand my words, I ask again, will you do this thing both for your own knowledge and for the benefit of your people? Tell me yes or no."

Cami knelt down in front of the great Lady, and looked up into her eye and said, "With every bone in my body, with every inch of my will, I will try to go your great gift justice."

[ November 08, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[mark12_30]

Child's Post

It was the afternoon of the second day. Many hobbits still did not know the fate of all their family members. Loremaster knew they’d started out with over a thousand hobbits. About eight hundred had made it through the rescue. These survivors were now scattered between twenty-one different ships.

Family-after-family had been split up on the night of the rescue. Children and others needing assistance had boarded first. Parents, brothers, cousins, and aunts had only followed after they'd finished fighting. There’d been no way to guarantee that members of a single clan would find their way to the same ship.

Now Loremaster, along with Cami and Andril, were trying to take all the broken pieces and reassemble them. Everyone was helping in this gigantic endeavor. Skiffs churned back and forth between the various swanships, carrying children to parents, and cousins to cousins. Khelek and Veritas sat up late into the night, speaking mind-to-mind with the other Elves who were tracking down missing hobbits. Andril had spent the better part of the first day searching for several lost children. She’d scoured the main deck of all the ships, with little luck. The hobbrim had finally found her stowaways tucked away asleep inside the cargo hold of the Star, where they’d wandered to play with the sea cows. Angara and Bird had worked hardest of all, making so many flights to bring little ones back to their families that their wings were beginning to ache.

Loremaster gave Cami a long list that he’d created weeks before to keep track of all the members of the community. She added little notes in the margin to show where everyone was and what had happened to them. When she wasn’t visiting Rose, or playing with Gamba's boys, Cami could usually be found up on deck going over her long lists. Check by check, and name by name, she could see that the community was beginning to regroup.

But there were, she noted, too many spaces with comments of a different type. Terse phrases conveyed the sad story of the many who had been left behind in the tombs. ‘Taken in the selection,’ ‘killed in the battle for the Locks,’ died fighting guards in the main cavern’—--the list went on and on. It was not easy to look about and see so many missing, especially when it happened to be a dear friend or spouse.

Yet few hobbits grumbled or complained. Freedom carried a price. They knew that when they’d agreed to the rescue. At least those who died fighting had done something useful with their lives. For the next five days, the hobbits found themselves sometimes grieving and sometimes celebrating, as they gradually learned the doom of each member of their community, and families joined together to prepare for the landing at Meneltarma.

_____________________________________________


One evening several days later, Cami was up on deck, chasing Asta and Roka and Ban as they romped about with their games. After they'd all collapsed into a pile with laughter, Ban crawled into her lap, so she could teach him a letter or two from the schoolbook she kept nearby. Gamba peered over at the pair intently with a puzzled expression on his face.

The boy wasn't sure whether he should say anything, but then Cami caught his gaze and asked him directly what was wrong.

"I don't know how to say this." Gamba struggled for words. "Ancalimon calls you a master of lore. So does Idril. But you're nothing like any wise woman or wise man I've ever met or heard about. What makes you so wise?" He shrugged and was about to go off.

"Gamba, get back here," Cami asserted sharply. "You don't say something like that and then walk off, without talking about it."

The boy looked uncomfortable but sat down next to Cami. "I don't know, my brother is going to be a loremaster. I love him, but he's nothing like you."

Cami nodded her head. "I expect you're right, about being different, I mean." She thought back on her conversation with Idril.

"But who says masters of lore have to be all the same? Do you know how many different fish there are in this world?" Cami looked out to the sea. Whoever made this place must have loved differences very much, because there are so many different fish, just fish alone, that you could study your whole life and never know them all." Her voice was filled with wonder as she looked out at the grey veil of dusk which had slipped over the waters. At that instant in the deep waves towards the west, a great dolphin breached and came slapping down again with great majesty and grace."

"So you and Phura are different fish?" queried Gamba, interested in spite of himself.

"I expect so. He's probably a dolphin, grand and glorious, and I'm a minnow darting in and out of the bigger schools, but I expect we each have our uses."

The boy scratched his head and thought about that. "Not everyone has to be a dolphin?" he asked. He was genuinely puzzled. That didn't seem to be anything he'd learned about before.

Cami laughed, "Oh, no, how boring that would be, if we were all the same." she assured him. Then she turned about and excused herself to leave.

Gamba sat and thought for a very long time about exactly what those words meant for him.

[ November 08, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

They had been anchored off the coast of the islet for a week now. Every day Idril had come to the Man’s bedside to change the dressings on his wounds. And everyday she had called out to him to make his way back to them, but he had not answered. For the greater part of those days, he lay fevered and sunk in dark dreams.

‘Mithadan’, she whispered softly to him, as she pushed back the curtain from the porthole, and opened it to the catch the sea breezes.

She came and sat on the bed beside him, a silver bowl in her fair hands. Healing herbs floated on the clear, clean water within. Their scent permeated the cabin’s air, and drove away the smell of sickness and despair. On a small stand to her right, she placed the bowl and from the pocket of her gown she drew some soft cloths, laying them on the bed next to the feverish man.

Brushing the limp, sweaty strands of hair from his face, she gently sponged the cool water on his brow, letting it run in little rivulets down his temples. She laved his face with soft strokes and let the air from the open porthole dry the droplets, bringing cool relief. Drawing back the coverlet, she bathed his neck and arms, letting the tepid water and the sea air draw the heat from his feverish pulse points.

Deftly and gently, her fingers worked loose the bandages covering the injuries to his abdomen. He moaned as the wounds were exposed to air. She soothed him with gentle words and drew a small flask of poppy elixir from her skirt pocket. Supporting his head with one hand, she trickled a thin stream of honey-colored fluid into his mouth, and stroked the side of his cheek and neck, encouraging him to swallow. Relief crept into the features of his face, and he lay back, relaxed, against the pillow.

Using the last of the clean cloths, she dipped it in the herbed water, and cleansed the crusted covering of the wound, gently removing the yellow, foul, exudate from the deepest parts, exposing healthy tissue.
Cleansing her hands well, she dipped the first two fingers of her right hand into a small silver lidded jar she had brought and applied a generous amount of the poultice to the wound - comfrey and thyme oil, bound with an aromatic aloe gel. She covered the area with a clean bandage and secured it with strips of linen wrapped round him.
As she ministered to him, she sang a quiet, rhythmic song, a lulling song, a song of Ondolindë; her words like the fountains there bringing peace and beauty. Once done, she covered him with a fresh blanket, and briefly placed her hand on his cheek in reassurance.

This day he roused as she sang to him. ‘Pio?’ he called, and raised his hand to grasp hers laid on his cheek.
‘Nay, Mithadan. It is my hand you hold.’ He opened his heavy lidded eyes and gazed at Idril. She put her finger to her lips and turned his head to the right. ‘There is Pio.’ She said, pointing to the chair which sat close beside his bed. ‘Waiting for you. She has not left your side since first they bore you down here.’

The Elf sat there, chin on chest, sleeping. Her right arm lay on the bed, fingers just touching his thigh. A book of poetry lay askew on the covers where it had slipped from her grip as weariness claimed her.
He reached for her hand, clasping it tightly in his own. And called her name.

Pio!

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

She woke abruptly at her name, thinking she had probably dreamed it as she had so many times this past week. But, no! There was that certain pressure on her hand as she felt her hand gripped warmly in his. She focused on his face, now turned toward her, and saw his grey eyes regarding her with tenderness.

‘Beloved . . .’ he began, smiling at her. She snatched her hand from his, and rapped him smartly on his upper arm with the flat of her palm. He winced and rubbed at it, frowning at this reception.

‘Don’t “beloved” me and think that everything is going to be alright. You scared me half to death by this foolishness of yours, and no sweet talk from you is going to amend it.’

Her eyes snapped with irritation as all her pent up fear and worry poured out in angry words. ‘What were you thinking, that you told no one you were sorely injured!’ He smiled at her, wanly. ‘By the One, Mithadan, must you be so obstinate!’

‘Obstinate?!’ he said, grinning now. ‘You call “me” stubborn!’ The beginning of a chuckle escaped him. Her cheeks flamed at his laughter and she opened her mouth to retort.

Concern overrode her anger, as she saw him gasp with pain. The simple act of laughing tore like fire through his wounds. She took a pillow and laid it across his abdomen, pressing down firmly and gently to splint the injured flesh and muscle. ‘Here. You can do this yourself.’ she said, guiding his hands into place. She watched as his breathing became more regular, the pain subsided, and his face relaxed.

‘Thank you.’ he whispered, looking at her.

He reached for her hand once more. And this time, she took his between hers, and kissed his fingertips, all anger gone now. Relief flooded in - that he was here, with her, alive. He held her gaze with his, and traced the curve of her jaw line with the back of his hand. She pressed into the pressure of his caress, and sighed.

‘Beloved!’ he murmured, his arm dropping to rest across his chest, his eyelids shutting as sleep and Idril’s elixir pulled him under.

She looked upon his sleeping form and smiled. Weariness assailed her, and she yawned widely. Pulling a blanket from the foot of the bed for warmth, she curled up beside him at ease, and dropped quickly into sleep.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

The Shapechanger (Lindo's Ode to Bird)

(If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.
If I take the wings of the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there, Your hand shall lead me,
and Your right hand shall hold me.
--Psalm 139)

Phura had missed Bird every time he had come on deck. The little raven-haired lady was here and there, checking on the hobbits and the hobbrim, feeding the sea-cows, checking on Rose, and keeping tabs on Levanto. But Phura never spoke with her.

Until one afternoon on the deck of the ship, he looked up, and there she was. Khelek had just called her over, they were discussing the sea-cows, and the milk-supply for the babies. Phura stood and came slowly over to her, and stood in front of her, suddenly taut and nervous. She looked up, smiled, and returned to her conversation with Khelek. But Phura would not be deterred, and his nervousness increased.

"Bird. Bird? It's you. The song was talking about you."

Raven hair in windblown tangles,
One tress opalescent dangles...

His eyes, wild with hope and fear, locked onto hers, and she stopped, wondering. "Phura?"

"You."

"Are you all right? What's the matter, Phura?"

"You're the lady. And the deep-sea-creature. And the soaring bird. I-- Oh, I've been waiting for you for so long."

He stepped towards her, mesmerized, one slow step at a time, and slowly began reaching for her hair.

...Lindo?

Cami, watching, felt that she had seen this all before, it seemed like a scant few weeks ago. Rose, standing by Cami's side, caught her breath. Angara sipped over to stand by her tangle-haired friend, shrinking down to cat-size, watching, remembering, waiting.

Ancalimon stepped closer, leaning on his staff, narrowing his eyes. Three thousand years ago, he thought, nodding... and newly surrounded by the sea. Yes, I remember.

Although he was as mesmerized as Lindo had been, Phura's face showed a desperate longing, and he trembled with it. Bird watched him, curious.

Loremaster stepped to Phura's side, within arm's reach. Cami thought he was standing just where Maura had stood. But unlike Maura, Loremaster was not smiling. He looked worried, tense, afraid.

Bird smiled, thinking of Lindo, and she waited for the laughter to bubble up in Phura, waited for the awakening, the wonder, the freedom.

Phura's face only grew more strained, more desperate. "Please, " he said. "Please. I know you can change me the way that you changed him. Please. I've waited for this all my life."

Gamba took a deep breath, and remembered. "One more thing, " Phura had said back in the caves, by the water. "I could ask for one more thing." This was it-- the storms out to sea, the wild longing that Gamba had never understood: this was what his brother dreamed about, over and over again.

Bird looked down at the pleading hobbit. "Ummm... sorry?" she replied, starting to worry now. "Change you? What? I can't change you. I can only change me."

"You can change me like you changed him, " Phura insisted. "You can do it. Please. Please, change me."

"Bird, I'm sorry, " Loremaster interjected. "I've tried to explain that it was just poetry, and that Lindo didn't really change. He has never believed me."

"No, " Phura cried. "It's real. It has to be real, I know it's real. You're going to change me. You can, you will!"

"Um, " Bird laughed nervously and pushed a stray lock from her face, "what do you mean? I can't. I mean, I really.... I can't."

Her genuine confusion and embarassment began to penetrate Phura's heart, and finally realizing that she truly did not know what he meant, Phura despaired, and fell to his knees. "You can," he whispered, and tears flowed.

Loremaster put a comforting hand on Phura's shoulder, and said to Bird, "Lindo wrote a song, about a shapechanger-- a lady, and a sea-serpent, and a bird. That song has always haunted Phura, and he pinned his hopes on that song; and now-- apparently-- on you. I am sorry. It is not a fair burden."

"I-- I'm a dolphin, not a sea-serpent, " Bird pleaded apologetically, pushing another windblown tangle away from her face. "Phura, I'm sorry. I really am."

Ancalimon stepped forward. "Phura, lad, " he said firmly, "Why don't you sing the song so that we can hear it."

Gamba, by Cami's side, leaned forward. He had never heard the whole song.

Phura was shaken badly and afraid to sing, but Loremaster stood by him. "I'll back you. Go ahead." When Phura faltered, Loremaster took up the song until Phura could continue. Neither of them could sing long without tears; they went back and forth several times.

Raven hair in windblown tangles,
One tress opalescent dangles;
Darkling eyes that downward call me,
Oceanward, abyssward draw me,

Sinking downward, diving deeper
Plunging through the sun-shot water
Soul-thirst quenching, not by drinking,
Deepest longings satisfying.

Under tumult undulating,
Depths and watery chasms plumbing;
Waves and wind and storm defying,
Hurricane and tempest riding.

The Abyss calls! Wild I answer;
Sea, my love! My stormy partner,
Draw me deeper! Heart is stolen;
Soul dives down, and I must follow.

Longing pulls me; cares abandoned,
Careless heart and soul and song are
Thrown wide open, laughing loud, to
Destiny surrendered gladly.


Climbing now, the waves refinding;
Riding on the surface, gliding,
Spreading wings, the wind now finding,
Different blueness wings now striding.

Far below the earth lies waiting
Spread afar and near, lies waiting;
No call earthward do I yet hear,
Patience lying far beneath me.

Spiral upward, feathers drying,
sunlight shining, drawing, calling,
Sunward seeking, striving skyward,
Beating wings still climbing higher,

Til the updraft lifting finds them,
fills my sails of feathers fine, then
soaring, riding heaven's breathing,
Clouds highest desire weaving.

The heavens call! Wild I answer;
Wind, my love! My stormy partner,
Draw me higher! Heart is stolen;
Soul has flown, and I must follow.

Longing pulls me; cares abandoned,
Careless heart and soul and song are
Thrown wide open, laughing loud, to
Destiny surrendered gladly.


The song ended, and Lindo was free; but Phura had not changed.

Drenched in his own tears, Phura still knelt, despairing, on the deck. He had exposed and laid bare his deepest dreams before a crowd of strangers, and they had been revealed as empty, lifeless, and vain. As a last lingering farewell to his dreams, he reached out and caressed Bird's bare foot.

But the hobbrim, listening, whispered among themselves, and nudged each other. Kali began to walk hesitantly forward, and as he did, Ancalimon stepped forward with him, and spoke.

"The kind of change that you seek can only be given by Eru, my lad. But sometimes, Eru does delegate such things, " he said gently, and there was something in his voice that made Phura look up at him, and then at Kali, and his tears stopped. "The second half of the song may not find fulfillment in this life; I do not know. But the first half does lie within the realm of possibility."

Phura slowly got to his feet, and faced Ancalimon, and his despair slowly and steadily melted away as Ancalimon watched him.

"Courage, " Ancalimon said. "And patience. New hope will find you, if you lay down the old hope that has died." He almost called him Lindo.

Phura slowly, slowly absorbed what Ancalimon said. Kali stepped forward, and put a hand on Phura's shoulder, willing him to understand, to wait.

The somber atmosphere was way too much for Bird. "Um, " she began quietly, hesitating, and Phura, a regular hobbit again, turned back to her free from expectations.

"You know, I don't see any reason in the meantime that you shouldn't see a bit more what it will be like, " she shrugged, and Ancalimon laughed quietly. Seeing that Ancalimon did not stop her, Bird's mischief grew, and Kali understood. Kali pulled Phura to the rail. "Come on." Kali climbed up and jumped, and Phura followed him over the side.

With a squeal of delight and relief, Bird chased them, springing high into the air and morphing on the way down.

Ancalimon laughed and laughed, leaning on his staff.


***************

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Birdland]

Levanto was waiting, and caught Phura in his arms as the Halfling flew over the rail hand-in-hand with Kali. The shock of the cold sea-water made Phura gasp, but as he exhaled, the weight of the tunnels and all that had happened to him there left his body. He flung his arms around the neck of Levanto and watched the antics of Kali and Birdie frolicking about them.

“So, Little One, how do you like my home?” the Mer-Man grinned. Phura gazed around him, seeing the flat expanse of the sea, feeling its buoyancy, and watched as a kittiwake made its way to the small island that had suddenly appeared on it route. The seabirds had soon discovered this new islet in the sea, and were inspecting it as a possible site for future nesting.

But it was not enough. “This is only the roof of your house, Levanto,” Phura smiled back. “I want to see more. I want to go where they go.” Kali and Bird bobbed up in front of the Hobbit, Kali handing him a small conch shell that he had found below. Phura took it, holding it to his ear as he had read in old poems, and heard the echo of the waves on imaginary shores. He looked down at the beautiful remains of the conch, and thought of one who would have loved the feel and the sound as much as he. “Please, I want to see what you see. Take me down there. Take me to the Abyss. “

Bird and Kali looked at each other, then at Phura. The Halfling had not been wounded or ill, except by cares and loss, but the tunnels had stunted his growth and prevented his limbs from finding their full, youthful strength. Phura, like many of the Children of the Caves, looked so fragile. And yet his eyes gleamed with such life and purpose, the first sign of the healing to come. It would be wrong to deny him his wish.

“Very well,” said Bird, “Grab hold of the fin on my back, as tight as you can. Take three deep breaths. Then close you mouth tight, and open your eyes.” Phura held tight to the gray, upright fin as Birdie swam in slow circles around Levanto. Then counting “one…two…three…hold your breath!” she dived beneath the waves, taking Phura with her.

They swam just a little ways below the surface, and the green glass glow of the water dazzled Phura. Birdie circled down a little farther, pulling the Halfling along with Levanto and Kali swimming escort. They flew past the fat, short face of a curious Grouper, who turned and cast a wide eye on the strange procession as it sped by. A school of silver sardines scattered as it saw the dolphin heading its way, turning in time and flashing like chain mail. And deep within Phura’s body, he felt the low vibrating calls of a school of whales a mile away.

Then t was over. The four broke the surface by the ship, and the crowd hanging over the rail laughed and applauded the return of the adventurers. Phura laughed aloud and waved to his brother far above. “I saw it, Gamba! I saw the Abyss! It was beautiful!“

Loremaster smiled through his tears and placed a comforting arm around Cami, also in tears beside him.

[Mithadan]

Mithadan rested on a bed of white sand. He could hear the murmur and sigh of the ocean as its waves swept up and down the beach. He was weary so that he could barely lift his head and the pain from his wounds nagged at him; an unrelenting reminder of the bloody night beneath Meneltarma. Every stroke of his sword, every Man that had perished at his hand was graven upon his memory. But so also did he recall the faces of each Hobbit and Man that he had swung his sword for and, in balance, the rightness of the cause he had served outweighed his guilt over any blood he had spilled. He was content.

Above him, silhouetted against the blue sky was a familiar face, the Lord Ulmo. For a moment the face was grim as he examined Mithadan's wounds and the hidden scars that he also bore. Then the noble head nodded and a smile appeared that seemed bright as the sun. So, thou hast solved the riddle of thy doom and remain among the living. Know this, Child of Man. Between the Atani and their Doom, the Valar may not intercede; that power rests only with the One. So pleased I am that thou hast survived the test. And though I could not have prevented thy death, even if I had solved the riddle, I can now ease thy suffering somewhat. This at least thou hast earned. He raised a great horn of shell and poured out a clear liquid onto Mithadan. The Man felt at once at ease and refreshed. Awake and arise! Thou and thy friends are victorious. But I have need of thee even now.

Mithadan opened his eyes and beheld the ceiling and walls of a cabin on the Elven ship. But Ulmo remained and smiled again upon the Man. He rose from his bunk and stood before the Lord of the Seas. The slight noise roused Piosenniel and she shot to her feet upon seeing her husband standing tall and straight. Then she bowed her head before the Vala.

All have died of those who must. All others will mend quickly now. And so this journey must soon continue, for the Halflings must be taken to their homes. The one you call Cami will know where. I will come again soon for the time has come for the Halflings to make their choices.

The mighty figure dissolved into a mist which flowed through the open porthole and out to sea. Moments later, the Telerin Captain burst through the cabin door. "I saw smoke..." he began, then stopped in astonishment, for Piosenniel and Mithadan were locked in a tight embrace.

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[mark12_30]

Child's post

Despite all the sadness and loss, everyone woke up that morning knowing that something special was about to happen. This was to be the day when the hobbits and their rescuers finally walked on the shores of Meneltarma. Even the Elves, with their quiet assurance and vast knowledge, were genuinely curious about what they might find within the isle.

The ships were located only a short distance from the shores of Meneltarma. They pulled easily into the harbor to dock, the Star leading the way like a mother swan forging a pathway for its cygnets. Many hobbits crowded near the ramps hoping to be among the first to exit, straining to catch a closer look at that small and mysterious island nestled within blue-green waters of perfect peace and harmony.

The isle itself was dipped in flowers and sunlight. Bright green fields, gently shadowed forests, and beaches of pure white sand lay at the base of Eru's Mount. The mountain was so close to the heavens that the hobbits could not even see where its top point lay. Sea beasts gamboled below in the cresting waves, joined by Levento and his folk, or played closer to the shore in nearby coves. Gulls and terns swooped overhead, plunging down to nestle on twiggy homes already full ladden with eggs. Yet, wherever the hobbits looked, all traces of the tombs, all hints of suffering and death, had been swept away and replaced by something wondrous.

Ancalimon and Loremaster were the first to leave the boats and step onto the soil of that new place. The hobbits and Elves followed close behind, coming up shipload by shipload as the vessels docked.

Even Rose had managed to leave her sickbed that day. She leaned against Bird's shoulder, smiling broadly for the first time since the rescue. Cami walked near Gamba, with the chldren playing about their legs. The boy looked about him with longing in his eyes and only wished Esta could have shared this. He hoped that, wherever she was, there would be as much beauty and peace as he could see here today.

Elves, hobbits, and hobbrim, all gathered together on the beach, marvelling at the freshness of the land. Idril leaned close to Khelek and confided, "This spot is small, and is meant for mortals, but the isle bears some resemblence to the shores of Elvenhome."

Then Loremaster turned to the crowd and spoke, "Enjoy yourself now. Rest or explore these pathways as you see fit. Take time to eat the food from your baskets that you have carried along."

"We will meet again at mid-day in the shaded grove to the west of Mount Eru and pay our respects to those hobbits who died. Then we will talk of other things which must be decided within a few days' time."

And all listened carefully to Loremaster, all, that is, except one. Phura sat on the edge of the beach, with Azraph beside him. At first they held hands and stared out towards the waters. Then the hobbit put his head down into his hands and began to cry. A single refrain ran through his mind, Home, home, I have finally come home.

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[mark12_30]

Kesha wandered away from Gamba and the four little ones, and ambled over to Phura and Azraph. Azraph looked up and smiled, and Kesha put his young arm around Phura's shoulders as he wept, and did not ask questions.

Gamba watched him go, and nodded; Kesha always stayed with Phura whenever he could. He was tempted to join Phura and Azraph, but cascades of laughter from Roka and Asta turned his head, and he saw them racing towards a flock of birds on the hillside. Maura and Ban followed hard after them, and Cami watched with a smile. Gamba sprinted to catch up.

For the next several hours, the children raced back and forth between Gamba and Cami, bringing them all kinds of barely imaginable things. Gamba shook his head in wonder as the children brought him different shapes and colors and kinds of leaves, flowers, bugs, twigs, bird eggs, butterflies, moths, brightly colored mushrooms, grasses, weeds, and even a rather panicked baby mouse.

With the memory of Esta coloring everything he saw, he ached for her; but he wondered nevertheless, and revelled in the new sensations; and the delight in the eyes of the children did not escape his notice. They immersed themselves in every sight, sound, texture, and smell. Maura tasted almost everything, much to Gamba's dismay and Cami's amusement. However, Cami did prevent him from tasting mushrooms she was uncertain of, and the insects, and the mouse.

Eventually they found their way into a pine grove, and the smell hypnotized Gamba. Cami beckoned him over to a certain tree with low, easy branches, and began to climb it. It only took a moment for Gamba to catch on, and soon he was far higher than she wanted to go. Noticing Asta and Roka in the lower branches and Maura and Ban reaching for them, she descended in a hurry. Gamba stayed high, feeling the wind in his face, and Cami watched him climb outwards along the branches, bending them, feeling the pine needles with his hands. He went further out.

"They can break, Gamba, " she warned him.

"What?"

"The branches. They can break. It's a long way down."

To her complete astonishment, he considered her words, and moved in a little.

After a while, he came down, and they moved on to some new trees. These were beeches. Cami smiled.

"Elves like these trees, " she said.

"Really?" That intrigued him greatly. He studied them, touching, smelling, and looked for one to climb. The branches were further apart, but he struggled partway up. He touched the bark, the leaves, he gazed up at the sky. He laughed. And then he wept, a little.

Hours, and innumerable trees, leaves, twigs, bugs, and butterflies later, they returned. Cami and the four children followed Gamba, who went to Phura immediately, and began to pour out descriptions of all the wonders he had seen. His words tumbled out faster and faster, and Phura smiled, listening, with an air of sadness that Gamba missed in his excitement. The children interrupted, adding details, and still Phura listened, and Azraph held Phura's hand.

When Gamba finished, Phura rested his hand on Gamba's shoulder, and they all sat together looking out at the water. Gamba searched for a stone to toss. He found one, and drove it straight and hard into the water.

Nobody said anything for a moment, and then Gamba burst into tears, and turned, and looked behind him, scanning the mountain. "I wonder where the graveyard is," he choked.

Cami considered the mountainside, carefully, thinking about where the boats had landed, turning this way and that to get her bearings, and then she turned towards the water, thought for a while longer, and pointed. "Under there. It's far, far below the surface of the water, way down. But the graveyard is under there."

Phura, seeing Gamba's face fall into even deeper sorrow, began to get up. But Cami was ahead of him. She stepped to Gamba's side, and before she even had her arms around him, he buried his face against her. She held him tightly.

The storm passed. Knowing that it was the first of many, Cami released Gamba, who then turned from her, embarassed by his outburst, and walked away from her. Phura shot her a grateful look, and wondered how she had gained his trust.

She wondered too.

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ November 09, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Rose Cotton]

Save for Rose

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had outdone herself in packing a picnic lunch for the children with numerous sweets and delicacies. The five boys gathered round, tasting a little of this and that, arguing about what was the best, and the dishes they could do without. There were so many simple pleasures they'd never had the chance to sample that it was a joy for Cami to fuss over them. She'd invited Phura and Azraph to join their group as well as Gamba. Azraph kept asking questions about what was in the different dishes, and how she had made them, and which ones had come from her home. Gamba sat on the edge of the gathering, eating little and saying less.

Then Phura turned to her and asked a serious question. "Where you come from, what sort of lore do your children learn? Do they have songs like Master Lindo wrote, or perhaps more like the poetry of Loremaster?"

Cami opened her mouth and closed it again. She had no idea what to say. She'd learned enough about the hobbit culture of the First and Second Age to be familiar with many of their works. Truthfully, most of them were nothing like the ones that her own people recited. There were a few like Lindo's poems on Piosenniel or the one on snowhobbits which were lighthearted, but most seemed quite different.

For one moment, she thought of wildly exaggerating and passing off one of Bilbo's lays as a typical product of the Shire. But that would be a horrible lie. Better not pretend something that wasn't even close to the truth.

She cleared her throat and tried to explain, "Your songs are more like the poetry of the Elves. Hobbit verses are quite different than that. They are about everyday things, plus lots of nonsense. There are poems about big oliphaunts, the fat cat on the mat, trolls that try to outwit you, different things like that." She shrugged her shoulders, and continued setting out dishes for the children to sample.

Phura looked frankly puzzled. Gamba came over to listen more closely. "What's your favorite?" he demanded.

"My favorite? My favorite is a song about taking a bath. You can sing it in the tub." Cami blushed and put her head down.

"A song that can be sung in the tub?" Gamba laughed and then whistled. "I'd love to hear that."

"Well, perhaps you will, but not today."

"Excuse me, Mistress Nitir, but there's something I wonder about," Phura broke in hesitently. "Master Maura, was he like that? Did he like these nonsense songs?"

"Maura, oh yes, he was very much like that. He and I shared a love of history as well as a love of a great deal of nonsense. That's one reason I felt so comfortable with him. Neither of us were great poets or songmasters. We left that to Lindo."

"But then how could he have been a great master?" Phura abruptly closed his mouth and looked embarassed, ashamed of what had slipped out. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."

"Don't worry, Phura. Everyone's different. Maura was a master as much as Lindo, only they were not the same. Lindo loved poetry and song. And Maura. Maura could see into the heart. He understood why hobbits did things, what made them afraid, and how to bring hope. That's why he was such a wonderful teacher. He could take a child who was afraid to learn and teach him that there was no reason to be afraid. I learned a lot from him. About being a teacher I mean."

Gamba came over and sat next to Cami. "I would like a teacher like that."

She said nothing for a moment, then touched him on the shoulder, "Perhaps someday, you shall have one."

[ November 09, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Azraph turned to Phura suddenly, and pointed at his face and hands. "Why is your skin red?"

Cami took a startled look around, and suddenly announced in a commanding voice, "Under the trees, all of you. Now."

"Why?"

"It's been cloudy or foggy for days and days, ever since the rescue. This is the first fine, bright day you've had."

"What of it?"

"Have you ever heard of sunburn?"

"No."

"Well, you have now. If it gets much worse, you won't sleep well tonight. Come on. Into the trees. Let's go." She frantically gathered the picnic items that were spread all over the grass. Everybody helped her, and they trudged towards the woods, laden with goodies, Maura chirping happily and chewing on a pastry.

Phura was the last to retreat from the water's edge, very reluctantly. They touched each others' faces, wondering, and Cami fretted over the children, rebuking herself for not having thought of this before now.

She ran and warned Loremaster, who was already pink. The elders herded the hobbits into the nearby forest.

[piosenniel]

Pio turned, her husband’s arms still tight about her, laughing as she heard the Elf stop in mid-sentence. He had averted his eyes from this private moment and was backing out the door when she spoke to him, her eyes flashing impishly at his discomfort.

‘Fallinelë! Stay a moment. We were . . . celebrating - having come through this grievous time, whole. But now there is time in abundance for us, and I would speak with you. She pushed her books off the chair for him to sit. Her hand still clasped tightly in Mithadan’s, they sat on the edge of the bed facing him.

‘First, I want to thank you for piloting us all in safely, and for standing your ground in the press of battle. It was a small beacon of hope in that fire and darkness to see the white ships awaiting us at our return.’ He accepted this gracefully, saying that his ship was at their disposal for as long as it might be needed.

‘Ah, that is just what I had hoped to hear from you!’ She detailed for him then what would soon take place among the Hobbits, and how the remaining Hobbits would need transport to certain places in Middle-earth. His eyes grew wide for a brief moment as she spoke of Ulmo and of the Choosing. ‘It will be our pleasure to aid you in such a time as this, in which the promise of Light shines undimmed into the future.’ She smiled at him warmly, saying that soon Mithadan would have a plan worked out for the Hobbit transport and would discuss it with the Elven Captains. Fallinelë nodded at the Man, saying he would await his instruction.

They spoke then of other, lighter matters, and soon Fallinelë stood to go, saying he had planned to attend the memorial which was planned for today on the isle. She looked at him, and asked what he spoke of. He told her of the plans for the picnic and then for the memorial later that day.

Once he had gone, she pulled Mithadan to his feet, saying, ‘I suppose we ought to make an appearance today. Do you feel up to it?’

He grinned at her, holding her close. ‘Perhaps we could miss the picnic and appear at the memorial.’ He winked at her. Abundance of time, as you said . . . ‘

‘A compromise, perhaps?!’ she offered. ‘What say you to using our abundance of time later? I’m very hungry, and a relaxing meal in the fresh air, among friends sounds wonderful.’

‘As you wish.’ he said, laughing as he pulled on a clean shirt.

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

Tol Meneltarma had the air of a land reborn. Mithadan was amazed at the extent of the vegetation which had grown since the Isle of Elenna had been overwhelmed by the seas. It seemed a place which bore the blessings of the Valar as if in apology for the destruction that had been wrought as a result of the Numenorean rebellion.

He breathed deep the flower scented air. He laid on the ground besides Piosenniel in the small grove of beech trees watching the Hobbits and Hobbrim explore and frolic. A Hobbit lass ran up abruptly and presented a bouquet of blossoms to Pio.

"This is for you for helping us," she said breathlessly. Pio laughed and tasted the scent of the flowers. Then she thanked the girl. But before she could run off, Mithadan stopped her. He had noticed that the flowers had not been plucked. Their stems had been cut with an exceedingly sharp blade. "What did you use to cut these?" he asked. She drew forth an ornate knife with runes written on the blade. Mithadan examined it. "This came from the caves?" he asked. "The tombs," she responded.

He drew out his own knife and handed it to the girl together with the Numenorean blade. "Could you take this and any like it to the Lonely Star, please?" he asked. "You may have mine in its place." She nodded and ran off.

Piosenniel looked at Mithadan with a quizzical expression. He waved off her questions and set his head upon the turf. In moments, he had fallen asleep.

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[mark12_30]

Under the trees, Gamba looked up, and often tapped Phura and pointed things out to him. Shapes and colors of leaves and twigs and branches, bugs, and birds, all fascinated him, but the fragrances thrilled him most of all, and he sniffed and savored and brought Phura twigs, leaves, bark, and evergreen needles to smell. Phura dutifully smelled and inspected each one. Finally he studied his brother.

"You like the trees a lot, don't you?"

Gamba's sparkling eyes answered him, and then he siezed Phura's hand and said, "Come on!" Phura obediently jumped up, wondering, and Gamba led him to the pine that he and Cami had climbed. Azraph followed.

Soon they were high up in its branches, and Phura obediently smelled or studied whatever Gamba called his attention to, jumping on the branches and feeling them give way, listening to the wind in the boughs, studying bird-nests and variations in the bark.

Gamba's enthusiam was inescapable, and as Gamba rattled on and on, Phura sadly smiled, knowing that he had been correct. His brother had no great love of the sea for its own sake. He was a creature of the earth and the air and the wood, and there he would find his own happiness.

Phura turned, and gazed out through the pine branches, and glimmers of the sun on the water filtered through the branches. He knew deep within that that surface, that he loved so well, would come between him and the brother he loved so well; he would be at home beneath it, and his brother would be at home above.

"Phura, " Gamba said. "Why are you crying?"

Phura shook his head, and said nothing. Gamba and Azraph came to him in the branches, and he brushed his face dry, smiled, led them down the tree, and changed the subject.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

OOC: If you have eulogies, poetry, or wish to think about your loved ones, please do it after this post.

At mid-day, everyone from the ships convened in the shaded forest grove as they had agreed. Ancalimon had found a grassy spot tucked away near the base of the mountain. Many beautiful trees grew here, but they were not as thick as in some other corners of the grove. The branches of the beeches and the elms rose up sturdily towards the heavens, but shafts of sunlight managed to shine through here and there, throwing dappled shadows onto the ground cover. Hobbits and Elves sat together, waiting for Ancalimon and Loremaster to speak.

Green leaves rustled overhead and soft winds blew, providing cool music for all who listened. These breezes sang of doom and choice, of lives grounded in gentleness and sacrifice, and whispered a quiet note of sorrow and longing. This is where they would locate their memorial for the dead. It was not only to be for the hobbits who fell on the night of the rescue, but for all who had lived and died in the tombs--big folk, little folk, and the two Elves who had perished from the ships.

Loremaster sat on a rock at the front of the gathering, turning over memories, one-by-one. He had dwelt in the darkness of the tombs over sixty years. He could recall a bit of Tol Fuin, and the rugged capture and journey which had first led them to the shores of Numenor. So many names, so many hobbits. He couldn't remember them all. And yet he was content. Every family in the grove that afternoon would carry away images of the close kin and friends who'd been sundered from them over the years. It would be enough to begin the healing.

All was silent when Loremaster rose to his feet. He was dressed in simple clothes. Then Phura came by his side, wearing the robes of a wise man, and, in a voice clear and steady, sang of loss and hope.

I stand on the hillside and gaze at you
As you quickly recede from my sight
Slipping away (don't leave me, don't go)
Farewell, wait for me, I cry

For a short time we will be apart
in the light of eternity
I'll come to you, hold me in your heart
Remember me, wait for me

I ride on the wind, my eyes drift back
To the receding hill and to you
Hope lies before me, love lies behind
In time, hope will call you too

But love lies before me all the same
Love travels with me, strengthens me
Love waits behind for you, at home
And before me, far beyond the sea

For a short time we will be apart
in the light of eternity
I'll wait for you, hold you in my heart
Remember me, come to me

Beyond our sight, we see by hope
Beyond our vision, we wait in faith
Beyond the circles of the world
We'll find all our loves again

For a short time we will be apart
in the light of eternity
Iluvatar waits, and says in his heart
Remember me, come to me

Cami sat quietly in the grove next to Gamba and the boys, reflecting both on the tombs and the children she had lost in the First Age. Now, she felt her heart ache as the familiar sweet words were sung. Loss and hope. Turning forward and pulling back. It seemed all of life was like that. An intricate dance, with patterns ebbing and flowing, cutting through the web of time. But her people had known such grieving. Why had this been chosen for them? She couldn't even pretend to hold the answer.

Ancalimon was continuing with healing words for the hobbits, speaking of those who'd perished, and what their lives meant. Cami's own thoughts ranged far afield, as she remembered friends and kin who'd seen their lives cut short. She did not have the wisdom to comprehend such things. Still, there had to be some reckoning to explain why some men of evil lived in comfort, while so many of the Faithful, big and little folk, lay under heavy burdens. Life was sweet, she reflected, but not always easy to understand.

Loremaster stood up, and began to say the names of those who'd died in the tombs. Families broke down and wept. When Esta's name was read, Cami heard Gamba's breath come in sharp, ragged edges, as the boy slid his head into his hands and cried.

When the names finished, each hobbit and Elf came forward with a shell they'd gathered from the white sands and placed them together on the ground. By the time all had finished, a large pile stood at the front of the grove, a mute witness of all who'd remembered there that day. Finally, Daisy and Kali walked up, along with several hobbit children, clutching flowers in their hands. These were not cut flowers. All agreed they'd seen enough of cutting and dying. They wanted to set living seedlings in the soil, plants that could grow and flourish, and sprout again. By the end of the afternoon, others joined them in the chore, until a ring of living blossoms surrounded the memorial place, a flood of different colors and sizes and shapes just like the people who had planted them there.

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Rose Cotton]

save

[piosenniel]

Giggles and ‘shushes’ alerted her to the presence of the twinlings, as she had begun to think of them. ‘You can come out, girls!’ she called to them. Coral and Shell came forward, and placed a wreath of starred flowers on her hair. They had been wandering the great meadow in the center of the isle, they told her, and had found a dense patch of these beautiful flowers. The girls had made one for each other and then one for her. Adjusting it on her head, she stood, and the three held hands in an admiring ring, saying how pretty each other looked.

It was just after mid-day, and as she stood there, she noticed the gathering of peoples in the shaded grove. ‘What is going on over there?’ she asked Shell, picking her up and pointing toward the trees. She placed the girl back on the ground and knelt down to be at eye level with them. Their faces were serious, and they looked away from her, suddenly shy. Then Coral, the braver of the two, spoke up. ‘We did not want to go to that, Pio.’ she said, her lip trembling. ‘It is too sad.’ Pio frowned in concern and looked at Shell. ‘It is for all those people who died before we came to this beautiful place.’ said the hobbrim, quietly.

Pio stood again and looked to the mass of people gathered. ‘Needs be that I must go there then.’ she told them. Their faces fell, thinking she might take them with her. She looked to where Mithadan lay still sleeping. ‘There is something I would ask of you. Would you do it for me?’ They nodded their heads at her, faces solemn. ‘Mithadan lies here sleeping. I do not wish for him to be alone. Will you watch over him while I am gone and see to his needs should he awaken?’ Smiles of relief flooded their faces, driving away their gloomy thoughts.

They sat down, one on each side of the drowsing Man. As she strode off toward the grove, she heard them whispering to each other, a small giggle escaping from them now and then. She turned, and shading her eyes against the sun, looked back at them and smiled. They had freed the small, red, spicy scented flowers from her bouquet, and were plaiting them among the salt and pepper strands of his hair.

************************************************** ******

She stood beneath the trees, hidden in shadows. Ancalimon had gone down already to sit among the Hobbits in the small clearing when she had slipped silently through the trees. Her ears caught the clear young voice of Phura as he sang a song of parting and remembrance.

She closed her eyes and let her mind wander with the music as it poured over the gathering, flowed over the trees and flowers, ran down the shining waters of the stream to mingle with the seas own tears and shoot up again as waves and foam and wind. Beneath her feet, the layered leaves and rocks lamented all those now gone, trees and flowers called out in remembrance, sending out their fresh, sweet scents in recollection.

A new voice broke in upon her thoughts, naming the dead. Shells, then, heaped one upon the other. Some like small white stars fallen too soon from the sky. Then life pushed in again against the dead, springing up from small hands, bright flames of reds and golds and whites, standing as sure sentinels against despair.

She wept, not for the dead now beyond caring, but for those who bore the burden of their loss. Through her tears she saw the dear face of Cami, the single tear that traced a path down her sun-browned cheek, the weight of it.

She stood there a long time, bearing silent witness to grief and hope.

It was dark now, and her eyes were dry of tears. She came out from the shelter of trees and down toward the mounded shells gleaming softly in the moon and starlight. Nothing stirred at her passing, save for the slender stalks of flowers as she moved lightly through them. She held two golden leaves in her fingers and tucked them carefully beneath a star shaped shell.

‘Thank you .’ she whispered, recalling the faces of the Teleri who had died. ‘May your stay in the Halls be brief, and your life light.’

‘O fading time,’ she sang softly,

‘When morning rises late all hoar with rime,
And early shadows veil the distant woods!
Unseen the Elves go by, their shining hair
They cloak in twilight under secret hoods
Of grey, their dusk-blue mantles gird with bands
Of frosted starlight sewn by silver hands.

At night they dance beneath the roofless sky,
When naked elms entwine in branching lace
The Seven Stars, and through the boughs the eye
Stares down cold-gleaming in the high moon’s face.
O Elder Kindred, fair immortal folk!
You sing now ancient songs that once awoke
Under primeval stars before the Dawn;
You dance like shimmering shadows in the wind,
As once you danced upon the shining lawn
Of Elvenhome, before we were, before
You crossed wide seas unto this mortal shore . . .

. . . Here on the stones and trees there lies a spell
Of unforgotten loss, of memory more blest
Than mortal wealth. Here undefeated dwell
The Folk Immortal under withered elms,
Alalminórë once in ancient realms.’


It was quiet when she had finished singing. She bowed her head briefly, and then turning, went quickly back through the darkened trees.

(Poem: excerpt from The Trees of Kortirion by J.R.R. Tolkien, BoLT I)

-------------

Mithadan's Post:

Mithadan woke gradually, stripping layers of sleep off like excess clothing until his eyes fluttered open and he looked up at a darkening sky. He heard the sound of a voice reciting names and realized that it was a roll of those who had died in the caves.

He sat up and looked about. Piosenniel was gone. Next to him sat two Hobbit lasses with broad smiles on their faces. "She has gone to the ceremony," one said. "We were to keep you company while you slept," piped in the second. He smiled his thanks and rose to his feet. He passed through the ring of trees and stood at the back of the crowd, watching as a pile of shells was made; one each to commemorate the dead. The tears of those left behind ran down faces and dropped to the grass as memories of times happy and sad mixed together in the minds of the mourners.

Mithadan breathed in the fragrant air of the island. Reborn indeed; built upon the bones of the departed both the evil and the good. He thought of the generations of the Faithful who had lived on Numenor and the many who had died either at the hand of Sauron the accursed or in the drowning of what had once been a fair land. And he wept also, not only for those who had died but also for those who were yet to live but were doomed to walk in the shadows. When all had been spoken and all had been mourned, he too turned away and returned to the Telerin ship to gather his things before moving on to the Lonely Star.

__________________

Pio's Post

Pio stepped onto the silent beach and watched the waves, backlit by moonlight, break against the sand and run in thick lines of foam, curling up round her ankles. The water beckoned her with its frothy kisses, the slow push and pull of the incoming tide.

She ran with abandon into the welcoming waves, diving deep beneath them, to surface far along the silvered path laid down across the waters. Tilion steered the last flower of Telperion across the dark night sky, and she swam his wayward course until her arms ached from the effort of it and her lungs burned.

Angara called her back. She was much in her mind these days, seeking still to keep her safe. Come back to the Star! You have gone out too far. I would speak with you.

I know what you would say to me, Dragon. This day has already had its share of sadness. Leave me in peace for a while longer. Then I will return to you.

She lay on her back for a long while, watching the patterns of the stars, riding the sea's swells back toward the distant shoreline. The Star lay at anchor in the small bay off Tol Meneltarma. As she drew near the ship, she flipped over and swam lazily toward it.

It was late when she climbed aboard, and she thought to go to her bed. But there was Angara, waiting.



[ November 08, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ November 09, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

In the dusk, Phura returned to to the water's edge. Azraph never left his side, holding his hand, and Gamba tagged along, hesitantly at first, but Azraph beckoned him, and he drew close then. The three sat by the water's edge, wit the five children wandering nearby, or playing at the water's edge.

Phura was very, very quiet. Azraph's hand in his was a great comfort; she had not left his side, except to sleep or by necessity, since he had been ill. But he wondered how long that would last. He knew that Ancalimon's words held a strong promise for him. He knew that it was a matter, not of preference for him, but of destiny and duty; he could not have explained it, yet, any better than that. He knew that Loremaster shared his longing for the sea, and that Gamba did not. And he had a sinking feeling that Azraph's father shared none of his love for the sea, none of his desire for the Abyss.

If only, if only twelve more years had passed; if only he had come of age, and could claim Azraph as his own! Then she could come with him, and not be bound by her father's preferences, fears, or desires. Not even his guidance.

Phura bitterly rued his youth. What did it matter, he grieved, if he had the respect of the entire community-- but lost the girl he desired more than anything? He could not bring himself to meet her gaze because he feared he would weep. He clung to her hand, and looked out at the water.

He looked briefly at Gamba, and looked away. After his loss of Esta, Gamba was now so terribly alone. And Phura feared that he saw his own future in that.

Gamba gazed out at the water, where Cami had pointed earier in the day, where Esta was buried far, far below.

Thnking about the poem that had haunted him for so long, he imagined taking his beating heart in his hand, like a living, pulsing stone, and throwing it far out into the water. He imagined that it splashed, and sank, down and down, sinking deep into the dark Abyss, and came to rest, still beating, over her grave. Softly he began to sing. Phura and Azraph listened, Phura humming softly, but letting Gamba sing the words alone.

Hearing the lullaby, the children instinctively clustered around them, little Maura climbing into Gamba's arms. Gamba held Maura tightly to his chest as he sang.

Beneath the stars, beneath the earth,
Your lovely form lies sleeping;
Your face so sweet, your limbs so fair,
Your heart, where mine is beating.
Your brow I kiss, your hands I hold
While deep in dreams you slumber;
And as you rest so still and cold
My tears fall without number.

No star so fair, no breeze so sweet,
No sunbeam shines as warmly
As your soft gaze that once on me
Shone gently, purely, fondly.
Your eyes are closed, your breath at peace,
Your lovely face unmoving,
Still here for you my heart yet weeps,
Your deep love for me proving.

Phura put his free hand on his brother's shoulder, and together Phura, Azraph, and Gamba quietly sang several more lullabys for Esta. The waves softly caressed the shoreline, and the children all fell asleep. Gamba lay down among them, and slowly he fell asleep as well.

Phura turned to Azraph, bid her goodnight and kissed her hand, and she rose, and returned to her family. He watched her walk away til she was out of sight. Then he lay down beside his family, huddled close to them for warmth, and wept til he fell asleep.

[ November 09, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ November 09, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

That morning, as the sun peered over the horizon, Cami awoke and walked quietly towards the forest grove. Then, on some impulse born of a need to see beyond the little spot where she was rooted, she turned to the slopes of the mountain and began to climb upward. She had no thought whatsoever of trying to reach the rugged crater at the top. It was too far away. But she scrambled and clawed her way up the steep hillside, trying to struggle beyond the foothills to a ledge where, free of underbrush, she could gaze outward.

For almost two hours, she grappled with the thick carpet of bushes and tangled vines as well as scattered rocks and cliff overhangs that sometimes compelled her to drop to her knees and clamber slowly forward. Groves of trees, at first abundant, grew sparse and infrequent as Cami pushed on. Finally, she pulled herself onto a solitary ledge which bulged out like a stone lip over the mouth of the hill. There was no way she could go higher without ropes or a companion for safety. This would have to do.

There was just enough room for her to stand and wrap her hands tightly around a tree root that jutted out like a safety line from between two boulders. Cautiously, she pushed her body to the very edge of the cliff, and looked down. From here she could make out a good portion of the isle, its beaches and forests and intermittant meadows. Beyond lay the sea with its rolling waves that slid softly onto the pure white sands.

Ancalimon would soon call the hobbits together and speak of the choice they all must make. Some must go one way, and some another, if the prophecies were to be fulfilled. Yet, Cami thought, how hard this was when they had so recently fought their way out of the tombs. Man and wife would surely choose to stand as one, and the children would respect the choice of their elders. But how many brothers, sisters, and cousins might find themselves on opposite sides? How many parents would weep to see grown children and their little ones step over the line, with a choice different than their own?

If a hobbit loved the Sea, and wished to explore its watery depths, then the isle could be a magic portal to the wonder and mystery of the Abyss. Yet, for most hobbits who loved the soil and growing things, a quiet forest glade, or even a life of wandering along untrodden paths, this tiny island would not be paradise. Instead, it could be more like a golden prison, with the sea pushed tightly against the shore.

With regret, Cami acknowledged where her own loyalties lay. Yet a piece of her still wondered whether it might be easier to slip under the spell of Meneltarma and all the lore that would be hidden here. The island would be protected even from the sight of Men, with no fear of intrusion or attack. There would be abundant foodstuffs and sheltering coves. And from the words of Andreth's journal, Cami knew that generations of hobbrim still unborn would carry out some distant, mysterious task that the lyrical strains of the Music had suggested.

Going to the Anduin would be very different. Cami knew there would be immediate struggle and danger, with much of her beloved lore hidden from sight. But unless the hobbits managed to survive and flourish, there would be no Shire or Ringbearer, and things might have a different end.

What would Maura do if faced with this dilemma? The question came jolting into her conscousness out of nowhere, with the answer following instantly behind. Maura would raise one question, only one; she was sure of that. Where am I needed the most? That is all he would want to know.

Cami sighed. The answer to that seemed clear. Those hobbits who loved learning, the healers and dreamers, poets and seers, would make Meneltarma their home. Few, if any, would travel to the Third Age.
Yet, there was real need in the Anduin for someone who had even a tiny speck of book learning and lore that could be passed on to other hobbits. As strange as it sounded to Cami, Ancalimon seemed to be hinting that she and Rose must undertake this job of teaching and healing, remembering and reciting, and helping the young ones learn decency and respect. It would be a small foothold in a dangerous place and time, Cami reflected, but at least it was somewhere to start.

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

When Gamba, Azraph and Phura had come down from the pine tree, they mingled among the other hobbits on the forest floor. Kesha, Asta and Roka were romping about with Tuka's smallest siblings, and Gamba watched them absentmindedly.

Meanwhile Maura and Ban scurried past Rose, who gingerly knelt and put her arms around Ban.

Maura looked up, and reached for Cami, who bent down and gathered him into her arms with a smile of delight, gazing into the little eyes that were so fond of birdies and dragons and tasty-looking field mice. She laughed, and Maura laughed back.

An icy voice cut into their laughter. "They're mine!" Gamba snapped at Nitir and Azra. "They came to me and they belong with me! And I won't have them separated!"

Rose's jaw dropped. Gamba was facing Cami in a fury, fists clenched by his sides, face crimson, eyes ablaze. The surrounding chatter fell silent.

Cami, shocked, stood perfectly still for several seconds, and then very, very softly replied, "Gamba, I would not dream of separating you from your boys." Softly, she stepped towards him, and slowly held Maura out towards him.

Accepting Cami's surrender, Gamba glared at Rose. Rose, wide-eyed, opened her arms, and Gamba sternly called Ban, who came. Then Gamba took Maura from Cami, and turned away. Ban followed at his heels, questioning him softly and looking back at Rose, while Gamba held Maura tightly to his chest.

Once he was at a safe distance, he turned, and glared savagely at them both.

Tuka's voice spoke at his side. "Being a bit rough on them, aren't you?"

Gamba turned a disbelieving stare on his estranged old friend, who met his eyes apologetically. "Most parents appreciate nice babysitters. Nitir and Azra are good, nice ladies, even if they are legends. Why are you so upset?"

Lips tightening, Gamba glared at Tuka and only held Maura tighter.

Tuka reached for his shoulder. "And I'm sorry, " he added. "I've-- I shouldn't have blamed you about Esta." He sighed, and looked at the ground. "Lots of people have died, and I'm acting like I lost more than anybody else. I'm sorry."

At that Gamba softened, and nodded, biting back tears yet again. Tuka clapped his shoulder and turned away, and as he did, Gamba's tears threatened to get the better of him, and he bent over little Maura and fought them hard.

Roka and Asta had come over, concerned. Beyond them, Gamba saw a lady's feet slowly approaching, Ban looked up and smiled; Gamba recognized the hem of Cami's dress. Defensively, he held Maura tighter, but she did not reach for the toddler.

Instead, she wrapped one arm around Gamba. With the other arm, she steered Roka, Asta, and Ban closer to Gamba. Gamba sat crosslegged, folding up, and they all climbed onto his lap. And then Cami knelt beside them all, with her arms wrapped around Gamba.

Clutching Maura tighter, he buried his head against her shoulder.

[ November 16, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Leaning upon his staff, the Grey Pilgrim strode across the sands, as hobbit families disembarked from ships and followed him towards a grassy nook under the shadow of Eru's Mount. Here, they waited quietly, with faces solemn and hearts pounding, curious and hopeful that their families would find joy in the deep matters soon to be discussed. A hundred stories had circulated on shipboard over the past day, each stranger and more unbelievable than the last. Yet no one had guessed what was actually to occur, and those few who knew the prophecies kept the secrets well hidden.

Ancalimon asked Loremaster and Andril to be seated on one side, and told Cami and Rose to go to the other. Then he stood, and looked about the grove. Around him were hundreds and hundreds of hobbits--Stoors, Fallohides, and Harfoot, some healthy and robust while others bore the scars of their rescue and imprisonment. All looked toward Ancalimon with hopeful, expectent eyes.

The Grey Peddler began by telling them how the great Siril had run from within the tombs of Numenor to the very shores of Amon, carrying with it the grief and tears of the hobbits. The King of the Sea had hearkened to their cries and promised to come to them in two days' time. For Ulmo would take on the rainment of the World, so that Elves and mortals alike could hear his deep voice and marvel at his majesty. The hobbits should not be afraid to stand in his presence, but greet him with respect and joy.

Then, Ancalimon related how Ulmo would descend to Meneltarma, with sceptre clasped in hand and a single task in mind. His mission was not to alter the foundations of life which had been set in the beginning, but to reveal more fully those desires and longings already hidden in hobbit hearts. Two choices would be given for those who gathered on that day, both good and worthy paths but leading to different ends. Ulmo would ask each family to stand forth and choose the way of the Sea or the way of the land. Those who loved the Sea would be given a home in its waters, while those who loved the land would be taken to a fair place at Ulmo's command.

Several of the hobbits were frightened at these words and called to Ancalimon, "How can we do this? We are small and have never lived in the waters of the ocean."

Then Ancalimon patiently explained, "If you choose the Sea, your bodies will transform like those of your hobbrim cousins. But your hearts, your will, and your intellect will be just as they were when Eru breathed life into you. You and your kin will dwell on Meneltarma, free to explore the mystery of the Abyss, and to delve into many secrets. For Ulmo will conceal the island with a mysterious veil, and set a great guardian above the Mount to defend it through all time."

"You will stay, safe and secure, guarding the hidden books of history and lore, and making songs and poems of great beauty. But never will any others be permitted to come to your shores, and never will you be allowed to leave. For, if you break your oath, the fate of Numenor will fall upon your heads, and the great wave will crush you forever. But you and your people must remain loyal and not go astray. For, if you hold true, the hobbrim will play a role in that distant age when the final battle for Arda is begun." But, about this, Ancalimon would say no more.

When some of the group heard about their chance to make a home in the Sea, their eyes glowed, and they knew the choice they would make. But, for many, it was not easy. Some were afraid to have their bodies change, while others truly loved the rolling hills or the trees, and could not bear to be separated from these. These hobbits cried out and asked Ancalimon to speak more fully about what awaited those who chose the land.

With great care and love, Ancalimon described Middle-earth, its rivers and forests and grassy plains, and how many wonderful things could be grown there. He talked about the free peoples who would share these lands, Ents and Elves, Dwarves and Men, each with their own customs and speech. He warned the hobbits their path might prove hard. Struggles and danger could follow them, but they would be free to wander wherever they desired, with no limitations or bounds. They too would have an important task to do, one even closer in time, but first they must learn to live in harmony with the earth and search for a place of their own to call home.

Then, Gamba stepped up and asked in a quiet voice, "Those hobbits who choose the land, may they come back to visit their brethren in the Sea?"

Gandalf shook his head sadly. "No, that can not be. There are no reunions within Arda itself, but only in the circles beyond."

Gamba said nothing but his eyes mirrored great sorrow. Many other hobbits whispered to one another about what this might mean for their families.

Then Ancalimon told the hobbits that, over the next few days, they must think and decide what to do. For, when Ulmo came, he would ask each family or individual to step forward and state their choice and their reason for choosing. Soon afterwards, all would depart: the hobbrim with Ulmo to learn the ways of the Sea; the land hobbits with Ancalimon himself, since he too would be sailing to the shores of Middle-earth where he promised to keep a friendly eye on them.

Just before leaving, Ancalimon added, "You are welcome to speak with me, or with Andril and Loremaster, or Nitir and Azra, if you would like to talk on these matters further." Then the Grey Pilgrim walked back to the ship, with several hobbits already staying close by his side and asking many questions.

Family by family, the hobbits left the grove to wander on their own throughout the island, some walking among the trees or meadows, others sitting and staring out to sea and wondering what to do. A few came up to Cami and Rose, and a few more to Loremaster and Andril, asking questions or seeking advice in trying to reach their decision. Yet, always, they were told to listen and trust the small voice within their hearts to help them decide which path would be truly theirs.

[ November 11, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Gamba picked up Maura and called Asta, Roka, and Ban, and wandered back under the trees, head bowed, Maura held tightly to his chest. Maura waved a free arm, pointing at the sky, the leaves, the birds, chirruping and prattling.

Phura watched him go, heart sinking, and wrapped his free arm around Kesha. And then he felt Azraph's entwined fingers tighten around his, and he looked at the ground.

"You'll become a hobbrim, won't you." It was a statement.

Phura nodded at the ground, miserably, and then met her eyes. "And Gamba... Gamba loves the trees, and not the water. He'll go to the hobbit settlements." Tears escaped him. "And... and... " He couldn't bring himself to ask, or to say anything about Azraph's father.

"I don't know, " she said, drawing closer. "I hope we will go to the Abyss. I want to be with you, Phura."

He drank her gaze, and kissed her hand, even as he knew that it was not her choice, and could not be.

Suddenly he gave her hand several kisses, whispered "Wait here", and stood, turned on his heel and headed for Azraph's father.

"Well, Lad, " Azraph's father greeted him with strained heartiness, "It looks like your song is about to come true after all."

"Yes, sir, " Phura replied. "Yes, it is."

"The Abyss."

"Yes."

"Well, good luck to you."

Phura stood his ground. "You could come too, sir."

Azraph's father snorted. "I'm no fish."

"Neither am I, sir; I'm a hobbit. But the Abyss is a beautiful place. You can't imagine it til you've seen it."

"Is that so."

"Yes, sir. The different sizes of fish, the light, the color of the water. The music that the water makes. It's the most beautiful thing I've-- that is-- it's the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Is that right."

"You could come, too, sir. You could join Loremaster and I. And Kali, and Andril, and the others."

Azraph's father sighed. "I know it's hard, son. I've said I'm not a fish. There'll be many partings during this choosing. I've got my family to think of."

Phura felt his hopes slipping away, and he fought and struggled against despair. "Sir, she--"

"Eh?"

"She--"

"Well, out with it."

He swallowed hard. "Azraph... told me that she wants to come with me."

Azraph's father considered that. "Is that so." Then his eyes narrowed, and he nodded slowly. "Is that so." He turned away.

Phura began to follow him but he turned, and his eyes were blazing. "You're a boy. You might wear a Loremaster's robe and know all the songs, but you're twenty-one years old, and don't think I've forgotten that either." His pointed finger came up, and he jabbed it at Phura. "Deciding her future is not your place. Do you hear? Not your place! Her welfare is my concern! Not yours!"

They stared at each other, and slowly Azraph's father calmed partway down. "Have I made myself clear?"

Phura's blood ran cold. "Yes, sir."

Azraph's father turned and stalked away. Phura slowly returned to Azraph, and she studied his face, and said nothing, but stood. He took both of her hands and kissed them, and then led her toward the water, and they sat together on the bank. But now Phura's gaze was on Azraph, and not the water.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

Pio sat on a low, rocky promontory looking eastward over the sea. She supposed that was now where life would carry her after the ships had taken the Hobbits to their destination along the Anduin. It was an interestingly uncomfortable feeling that accompanied these musings. Her mind turned it over and over, attempting some resolve.

She had been independent and a wanderer all her adult years. Now she faced the prospect of a more settled life with one person and the family they would soon share. Her other companions would not be there with her. Cami, Rose, and Daisy were soon to be left behind in other places and other times. Veritas and Khelek had requested she speak with Idril and the Teleri about taking them to Aman when the Elven ships departed.

Bird, whose wanderlust had always matched her own, would soon be off to seek new ventures. Her promises of visits to Lond Lefnui came from her generous heart, and Pio knew Bird would see them frequently for a while, then less and less as new places called her. She was already missing her.

And then, there was Angara, and her announcement to Pio the night of the memorial. She had mixed feelings about leaving her new surrogate family, the Hobbrim. She had decided that somehow she would stay with them, and was seeking a way to do so. ‘Perhaps I should think about staying here, too.’ Pio thought to herself. ‘It would be a place I could be of some use.’ But there was Mithadan to consider, and she could not see him content to stay.

She picked up a number of large pebbles from the scree beside her and stood up, her mind shaking off the spiral of bleak thoughts. She walked to the very lip of the promontory. One after the other, she drew her arm back and threw each stone in a long high arc out over the water below, watching them descend swiftly and splash down to disappear beneath the surf.

The last one had just hit the water’s surface when she heard the shuffling of feet and a familiar voice behind her. She turned, a questioning look on her face. It was Daisy. The young girl’s face mirrored the same feelings as her own just short minutes ago. Pio sat back down on the rocky surface, inviting the hobbit to do the same. She pulled her close, her arm round the girl’s shoulders, and bid her speak her mind.

Daisy had been at the gathering when Ancalimon spoke of The Choosing. Now she was torn about what she would do. She dearly loved Cami and Rose, and part of her wanted to go with them, back to the familiarity of Middle-earth. Her arms went round Pio’s waist, hugging her fiercely, and she buried her head against the Elf’s shoulder. ‘I do not want to leave you either.’ she said sniffling quietly. Pio put the fingers of one hand beneath the young girl’s chin and turned her face up to hers.

‘And . . . ?!’ she prompted, knowing there was something closer to Daisy’s heart that she had not yet revealed.

‘Kali,’ came Daisy’s soft reply, ‘I cannot imagine a life without him in it.’

Pio smiled at this, and held the girl’s gaze. ‘You would like me to give you some Elven wisdom on this, to take away the burden of it, to make the choice for you. I see this hope spring even now into your face. I cannot. This must be your decision alone. Something which will fit your sense of who you are and who you might become if given the opportunity.’ Daisy frowned at these words, not hearing the easy answer that she wanted.

‘I do know this, little one.’ continued the Elf. ‘Love you, as all of us do, you cannot make your decision based on that. Should you do that, you will at some time be trapped by that love and it will not be enough to see you through. This choosing must be solely from you and for you. A gift, if you will, for yourself alone.’

Pio stood up and helped Daisy to her feet. She picked up two hands full of rocks, giving one of them to the Hobbit. ‘Here.’ she said, ‘Consider each of these a reason for choosing a certain path. Think calmly on each then throw it as hard and far as you can. Let them be a focus for your thoughts and feelings.

It took a long time to throw all the stones. Some sailed far out over the blue waters and some flew only a short distance to land on the hillside and go skittering down the slope. They spoke little, and when Daisy shared her thoughts on one choice or another, Pio gently turned the questions back upon her, letting her confirm for herself, the conclusions she had come to.

They were down to their last two rocks. Pio sailed hers hers high and hard out to the waiting waves, watching it fall from its course to plummet into the water. She brushed the dirt off her hands, using the legs of her breeches, and stood hands on hips, waiting for Daisy to cast hers toward the far horizon. ‘Your turn.’ she said to the girl. Daisy stood rooted to the ground, her stone clenched tightly in her hand. Laughter bubbled from her as she turned toward Pio.

‘I do not need to throw this one!’ She took Pio’s right hand and placed the stone in the center of her palm, closing the Elf’s fingers over it. ‘I have made my choice.’

Pio kissed her forehead, and hugged her. She watched as the Hobbit ran down toward the center of the island, looking for Kali and for the others, to share what she had decided. The Elf picked up her discarded cloak and shaking the dust from it, threw it round her shoulders. She headed back to the Star to find food and company.

[piosenniel]

The Dragon paced on the deck of the Star, her tail twitching with each step. She had listened to Ancalimon speak to the Hobbits of the nearing arrival of Ulmo, and the Choosing which would then take place. All of the Hobbits and many of the Hobbrim were now preoccupied with who might choose to become Hobbrim and who might stay Hobbit. Tension ran high, as friends and family found they each had their individual preferences which might sunder them forever from one another.

Angara snorted, a wisp of smoke escaping her snout. ‘ And, I suppose he’ll make another one of his grand entrances in a cresting wave of water and spume, and then go thee-ing and thou-ing all over the place to impress the Hobbits and Hobbrim!’ She shook her head and clacked her sharp teeth together in irritation. ‘Hmmmph! You would never catch a Dragon being so pompous!’ Her tail waved dangerously as she stood there thinking. ‘He’d better not frighten my little ones,’ she murmured in a rumbling voice. ‘I’ll send him and his overblown phrasings packing back to the rest of the high and mighty Valar if he does!’

A sudden, sharp laugh from behind caused her to twirl menacingly toward the offending sound. It was Ancalimon, his face red with barely suppressed mirth. He turned away from her, thinking to walk a way for a bit to get his laughter under control.

She reached out a claw and pinned the hem of his robe to the ship’s deck. He stopped short, his shoulders heaving, then turned, wiping the tears from his eyes. ‘Perfect!’ he gasped, collapsing on the deck in laughter.

Angara stood over him, gold eyes twirling in irritation. ‘Perfect is a given, if you are referring to me,’ she intoned, ‘but what I want to know is what you were referring to, and why were you laughing?’

Ancalimon sat up, and took a deep breath, regaining a semblance of composure. He looked at the Dragon and considered his words carefully. ‘I have come to ask a favor of you, Old One.’ he said. ‘I had feared you might not hear me out or that I might have not thought clearly enough about this in regards to you.’

‘Could you be more elliptic in your approach?’ she said, arching her plated brows at him. ‘You have rightly named me Old One, and I grow older by the moment as you eke out your answer.’ Her claws tapped ominously on the wooden deck.

‘Then let me speak plainly, Dragon.’ returned Ancalimon, holding her gaze. ‘Once the Choosing is done, and the Hobbrim left here to live and grow as a people, I would like you to take the position as their Defender. I doubt that many, if any, of other races will find their way to this isle, but I would not have the peaceful existence of the Hobbrim disturbed for any reason. Their survival will be critical to the survival of what we now call Middle-earth, and what will have many other names in other times, other Ages. Will you do this for them and for us?’

Angara’s heart leapt within her at the prospect of this task set before her. Yet still she played the coy Wyrm, as she was wont to do. ‘You say I shall have the position of Defender?! Now just how far shall my discretionary powers extend with regards to this responsibility?’ She inched closer to the seated man, awaiting his answer. He could tell she was hooked on the idea, and he drew her in expertly, letting her all the while think she had the upper hand.

They talked for a long while, chewing thoughtfully over the ideas of each, until, finally, she had a set of guidelines she felt appropriate to her and he felt the best interests of the Hobbrim would be served. Tomorrow, they would both meet with the leaders of the Hobbrim families and present this plan to them. Both wanted to avoid the appearance of taking any rights of decision-making away from them.

Ancalimon watched as Angara turned and strode off to tell Pio what she had accomplished. He saw her almost skip with pleasure as she considered this proposal of his. He chuckled at the measures she took to hide her eagerness to do it. ‘What an irascible, soft hearted Old Wyrm!’ he said to himself quietly, smiling.

‘I heard that!’ she said, pausing in mid stride and turning her head to look at him. She smiled a toothsome smile. ‘And thank you!’

[ November 12, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

That afternoon, Rose and Cami had returned to the Star to begin gathering up their belongings. As they started to sift through the piles scattered about on the shelves and table, Cami found she was picking up things and putting them down again, stopping every few moments to reflect and recall as she poured intently over each item. Every little souvernir brought gentle smiles and memories, as she and Rose drew out the story again, recalling the little things along the way that had brought great hardship and small victories. Most of all there was the pull of the people that lay behind these treasures. It was becoming harder to tug away.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing, going back with the hobbits?" Rose's voice hesitated, as her finger traced over the outline of the great conch shell she'd found on the beach when they'd first found Kali. "We could stay here on the Star, with Mithadan and Pio."

"Yes, we could," Cami murmurred. "Or you could, if you feel that's best. I've thought a long time about this, and I want to go back to live with other hobbits. I've been away so long, too long." Cami's mind ranged over her years in Minas Anor when she'd helped care for the children of the big folk. Good, decent people, but she had missed so many things, things that other hobbits took for granted. "I feel I've come a long way, and I can't stop now. Plus nothing would be the same. Kali and Daisy will be gone, and I expect Bird as well."

Rose looked over at her friend who was staring out the small porthole seemingly lost in reflection, and interrupted with a question of her own, "Do you think things will sort out alright for the hobbits?" Rose's voice held sure and steady, but behind her words lay another hidden question. Will this be the right thing for me, for us, if we sail to the Anduin?

Cami thought a long time before she responded. "Yes, I believe so. I really do. I keep remembering Lilly and Pongo and Esta and all the others who didn't make it. There has to be some meaning to that, something we can do to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"The hobbrim on Meneltarma will be safe. They'll just need patience and loyalty to endure for so long."

Rose nervously interrupted. "But what about the Anduin? What will that be like?"

"That's different," Cami laughed. "We'll have to be tough and crafty to live in a land where most folk are so much bigger. But our people have survived under worse conditions than the Anduin. I don't think we should be afraid to go because we're afraid what might happen."

"And, Rose," she looked the girl straight in the eye, "you and I do have an advantage. We know it can be done. Even if some of our memories slip away, we'll still have that certainty underneath. All the hobbits are going to need some of that pig-headed stubborness."

Rose turned her face up and grinned, "That sounds like me! I've got plenty of stubborness!"

"You certainly do!," Cami poked Rose in the ribs and began tickling her.

A few minutes later they were both sitting and laughing, their spirits pulled higher than they'd been before. Then the girl asked a question that had been bothering her for a while, "Cami, what will happen to Gamba and the boys? And to Azraph and Phura? I really like them. Are they staying here or coming with us?"

"I don't know. We'll have to see. But, Rose, would you like that? If they did come, I mean?"

Rose responded instantly, "Well, if you need pig-headed people, then Gamba should be perfect. That is, once his heart stops hurting so much. And also that little one, the toddler Maura, who kept running after Bird."

Cami smiled, "I expect you're right. But, for now, we'll have to wait and be patient. Rose, there's one more thing. I should have said this before, but my mind was on the rescue, and I was sorting out other things in my head."

Cami reached over and took Rose's hand, "I know there's going to be a lot of hard work to do. Healing and teaching and passing on what little book lore we have, not to mention surviving. The clans will probably split up and go in a dozen different directions. We'll need to try and train others to help us so that each group will have someone who can heal and teach, even if it's on a very basic level."

"But, Rose, it's your help I need the most. Whatever I know, I need to pass it on to you. And I'd like to start now. Will you come when Andril and I visit the sick hobbits on the ships, so you can begin learning some of these things? I can see how much you've grown since we left Minas Anor. I'm proud of you. And I'd like you to start helping with this."

Rose flashed a warm smile, and hugged Cami, "Yes, yes, yes! she chanted. "I'll do the best, the very best I can." Then she turned quickly about and ran to find Daisy so she could share this latest news with her.

[ November 13, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Phura and Azraph sat overlooking the water, left hand in left, right hand in right, fingers intertwined. They had spoken haltingly of the past, reviewing all that had happened, unwilling to look forward anymore.

Azraph's sister Nitir approached them hesitantly. Azraph looked up at her.

Apologetically, she related her message. "Father says you are to be with the family from now on."

Phura's jaw dropped, and he struggled. "Why?" Azraph replied in disbelief.

Nitir shrugged. "He's been very cross all day."

Phura thought his heart would break. He turned Azraph's hands palm upwards, and buried his face in both her hands, and stayed that way for several moments. Then his face came up, eyes brimming. "You'd better go, " he choked. "Good night." And he stood with her, and kissed her hands again. She gently took his face in her hands, gazing into his eyes; and then she wordlessly turned, and followed her sister to her family, casting many discreet backwards glances. Phura watched her til she was out of sight.

Gamba joined him. "What happened?"

The story spilled out, and Gamba threw his arm around his brother's shoulder, and shared his misery for a while. Then he spoke.

"I can come with you."

Phura looked at him. "Gamba." He smiled, and thought his heart would burst.

"I can. I can become a Hobbrim too."

Phura smiled sadly, loving his brother more than ever and knowing that the water wasn't where he belonged.

"I don't want you to be alone."

Phura smiled bravely. "I'll have Loremaster, and Kali, and Andril and all of Kali's cousins. I won't be alone."

Gamba gave him a wry look. "Kali's a good sort. So are lots of his cousins. But you'd miss me."

Phura couldn't argue with that. "Terribly."

"All right then."

Phura looked down. "And the trees? And the elves? And the wind in the branches?"

Gamba shrugged. "I'll have you. Like always."

Phura threw his arm around Gamba's shoulder, now, and shook his head. "You need to know where you belong, and be true to that. No matter how much I'll miss you."

Gamba looked unconvinced.

"I know you would do it, " Phura said. "You'd come with me. But you need to go where you are supposed to go."

"You make it sound like destiny, or something, " Gamba grumbled.

Phura sighed, and nodded. "I suppose it does sound like that."

They listened to the waves on the shore for a while, and Phura, completely exhausted from the day, nodded off several times. Finally he lay down and snored. Gamba got up and went to find Loremaster.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mithadan]

The morning sun filtered through the porthole of the cabin, waking Mithadan. He rose quietly and, after rearranging the covers over Piosenniel, dressed and proceeded to the galley. After a quick breakfast, he climbed to the deck and stood by the rail looking out at Tol Meneltarma. Soon, a familiar wave would rise from the sea and Ulmo would come to speak with the Halflings about choices. Then the Lonely Star would leave this island behind forever and would pass back into the East to complete its voyage. And then...what?

He turned at the sound of a footstep behind him. Piosenniel joined him at the rail, for once well rested and well fed. The slightest hint of a bulge in her stomach heralded the new life growing there.

"It is beautiful is it not?" said the Elf quietly as she gestured to the island. "Idril is correct. It seems like a bit of Tol Eressea has come to the East to serve as a garden for the Hobbrim. Would that I could dwell here as well."

Mithadan looked long upon the peak of what had been a mighty mountain. "It is lovely," he answered. "But it is not our place. Nor could it be a home for our children without companions of their own kind. Our place lies elsewhere."

She turned to him with brows slightly furrowed. "But where is our place?" she asked. "Where shall our home be? This has troubled me, for though Gondor is fair, I would not be a housewife there until the end of my days. My heart will ever yearn to roam, but we must give some thought to our children as well."

He smiled and, reaching out, wiped the lines from her brows. "That is well," he said. "For you have cleaved to a mariner and like you I am doomed to wander as well. We shall go to Lond Lefnui to see my brothers and their families for they would wish to meet you and celebrate our happiness. Then perhaps to Minas Anor to report to the King. But then, we shall go where you wish for the birth of our children, whether it be Imladris, Lindon or perhaps even Ithilien where many Elves now dwell. That choice shall be yours, save that I would not wish to leave the sea behind forever."

He placed an arm on her shoulder and the two watched the seabirds wheel and frolic over the nearby shore.

[mark12_30]

Loremaster stood at the water's edge, recalling a conversation he had had just an hour ago.

He had searched the crowd, and found Camelia Goodchilde, and gently asked her about her plans.

"I belong with the hobbits, " she had replied, quietly.

He had not answered, and she had looked into his eyes, and found disappointment there. She grew uncomfortable. Looking again into his eyes, she saw a tenderness that confirmed her fears. Her discomfort increased.

He had seen her discomfort. "Forgive an old man his foolishness, " he had said gently. "I know the old tales. I know about your promises, and that your heart was won in Ladros, long ago." He thought of Phura. "It is not only the young who, by dreaming, lay unreasonable burdens on living legends. I beg you, please pardon me."

"Of course, " Cami stammered.

Loremaster sighed again, and looked out to sea. "If you are staying with the hobbits, then there is something I would ask you to do."

"What would that be?" Cami replied hesitantly.

"Keep an eye on my younger son, " Loremaster had replied. "He is brash and stubborn, and will be looking after four young boys. He will need more help than he thinks he needs."

She nodded, relieved. "I will keep an eye on him whenever I can. Two eyes, if I can spare them, " she smiled.

Such a lovely smile she had, he pondered sadly, looking out over the water and lingering in the memory. He would have relatively few more memories of her, and he wanted to keep them as clearly as he could.

A familiar voice interrupted his reverie.

"Loremaster, should I become a hobbrim?"

Loremaster's eyebrows shot up, and he turned to face Gamba. "Why do you ask?"

Gamba's face was strained. "Azraph's father says he's not a fish. So he's not going to the ocean. So Azraph won't either. And I don't want Phura to be all alone."

Loremaster considered Gamba. "And you? Are you a fish?"

Gamba fidgeted impatiently. "That's not the point."

"Do you love the water?"

"But Phura!"

"... loves the water."

"I--" Gamba stopped, and stared at the floor, and tried again. "I'm a good swimmer."

"You are a very good swimmer, " Loremaster agreed. "I think you enjoy rivers a great deal."

Gamba scowled. "I don't want Phura to be alone, " he grumped.

Loremaster met his gaze. "I understand."

"Do you?" Gamba snapped. He didn't think that Loremaster understood any more than usual.

Loremaster sighed deeply, and for a moment envied his son, that he would be watched over by Cami Goodchild. "Yes, Gamba. I do understand loneliness. And believe me, I do not want Phura to have to endure it." He sighed again. "Believe me."

"Then I should become a hobbrim."

Loremaster smiled, and shook his head. "What are your favorite songs?"

"You know. The ones about elvish battles."

"Your favorite stories?"

"Gondolin."

"And as a child, what was your favorite game?"

"Levanto and Piosenniel."

"Gamba, there are no elves under the water."

"No, " Gamba replied, suddenly tearing up. "Just Esta's grave.... my own 'Piosenniel'. She's here, nearby. I could stay here by her."

"Dear boy, " Loremaster said, and threw his arms around Gamba. Gamba, astonished, wondered what had brought about this wild burst of emotion from Loremaster. "My dear, dear boy." And then he took Gamba by both shoulders and held him face to face, speaking in a voice that suddenly seemed made of steel.

"I do know, very well, what it is like to be alone. I don't want you to be alone. I give you my word that I do not want Phura to be alone. And I will do my best to make sure he is not alone. Understand?"

Gamba, impressed by Loremaster's sudden vehemence, nodded. More gently, Loremaster continued.

"But I also know what it is like to be imprisoned. And if you were to follow the wrong destiny, your soul would not be free. You would feel as if you were in prison. You would feel almost as if you were back in the caves."

Gamba grimaced.

"Do you know where hobbrims live when they are not in the water?"

Gamba blinked. "No."

"In caves. Hobbrim live in caves."

Gamba despaired. "But-- but-- I hate caves!" He swallowed hard. "Phura is going to live in caves?" His face fell. "But couldn't I live on the shore?"

Loremaster embraced Gamba tightly. Gamba closed his eyes, and once again went to war with his own soul.

---------------------------------------------

Child's post

Cami sat alone on the beach, not quite sure how she felt. Long ago, her mother had cautioned that she had a blind spot in this area, and it could get her in trouble one day. Cami wondered if she'd said anything that had led to such a misunderstanding. She hoped not. She liked and respected Loremaster too much to do anything like that.

Yet she couldn't help wondering whether this affection was for the perfect legend of Nitir, of for the living, breathing Cami who had many shortcomings. Still, it was a compliment. And she could not help noticing how lonely his eyes had looked. There might have been a time when she would have responded with affection to a kindly and learned soul who offered shelter from the storm. But, with the experience of the Star behind her, and especially her love for Maura, she saw things differently now.

She knew her own feelings had not changed from the time she'd left Tol Fuin. She did not expect that they would ever alter. And to marry someone just because you were lonely or frightened didn't seem like a good idea.

Looking back on things, she had no regrets. Not for an instant would she have given up Maura's love, even though their time together had been so short.

Perhaps, she wasn't being honest to say no regrets. There was one. Sometimes, when she glimpsed a young boy or girl playing, it seemed hard to her that she would never bear a living child. Yet, it wasn't the bearing as much as the rearing and teaching that she wanted. Already, Rose had done something to fill that void. Perhaps there would be others. Her mind turned to Gamba and the boys, but she willed herself not to dwell on that.

Cami looked out and saw a group of hobbrim dragging supplies onto the island from one of the ships. Ancalimon was helping them. The hobbrim turned and waved goodbye, swimming out to deeper waters, while the figure in grey robes walked back over the sand, sitting down next to Cami.

"I thought you might need company." His eyes gleemed with kindness.

"Yes." She smiled. "How do you always know when something's bothering me?"

"Someone just asked if I could stay with him on Meneltarma. I said no. I think my choice is right, but I admire this person, and I know he's lonely."

"Plus, there's something else, something about Maura, I never thought about before."

Cami's voice sounded strained and uncertain. "There were many words between us in Beleriand, but never once did either of us promise not to take another mate. And yet I feel bound to him. I can not imagine being with any other hobbit."

Ancalimon said gently, "Then you have made a free choice. Do not apologize for it. You can't help what others feel."

"This much I can tell you. Maura went to his grave after a full and satisfied life, just as he promised, but without ever taking a wife. We never discussed it, but this is what he wanted. I am certain of that."

"Cami, the closeness of a man and woman can be a wondrous thing, but only if they're meant to be together. Otherwise it becomes a burden and a thing of sadness. If you feel this way, look for your closeness elsewhere. I promise you it can be found."

Cami looked at him and said, "There's something else I've wanted to ask ever since Tol Fuin. Only I was afraid to say it. Are there any more tales you could tell me of Maura and his kin? I've missed them so much. I wondered if you visited him or could recall anything of his family from the time after I left."

"Why didn't you ask me this before?" His voice was gentle and insistent.

She dug her fingers into the sand, struggling to find the words. "It was a long time ago. I wasn't sure you remembered, or that we could even talk about this. I knew there were threads that shouldn't be pulled."

"Little Andreth, I am a messenger of Nienna. I do not forget memories or tears." His voice was stern, but then turned softer. "Nor do I believe the threads of time will be so injured in the telling of a few misty tales. But you must promise to say none of this to any other."

Cami nodded and promised. For a long time, the two sat together as Ancalimon related story after story of people who'd lived long ago. Most of these were about common things that folk of any age would find dear, of snowhobbits growing up and new hope found, of Lindo's family, and Maura's love for his people. At the end of thes stories, she went over and kissed the peddler on his head, thanking him for his gift of tales. And, that afternoon, for the first time, Cami went away certain she'd made the right choice and that the Anduin was indeed to be her home.

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

Angara could not find Pio when she had gone to look for her.

Alone, she had savored the fruit of her talk with Ancalimon, all that day and well into the night, tasting the sweetness of it. She shivered with the joy of it, the anticipation. All these long years she had mourned her children, and now she was to have them back. To watch them grow in strength and wisdom and delight; to take their rightful place in the song of creation.

Never mind that they were no longer robed in dragon forms. She would nurture them, keeping them safe from all harm save that which is necessary to the natural growth of any creature. And in turn, in their own way, they would nurture her, and make her whole again.

It was early morning as she watched from her place, high on the crossbeam of the mast, as Mithadan and Pio stood at the Star’s rail taking in the day’s first flight of the birds. The Elf leaned against him lightly, his arm drawing her in against his shoulder in a gesture of affection and support. ‘Perhaps I had misjudged him earlier.’ she thought to herself.

Her eyes took in how Pio spoke to him gently and he murmured back, smiling. His hand strayed to the gentle swell of the Elf’s belly, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge of his son and daughter, and he laughed, in carefree delight. The dragon nodded at this picture of these two who were dear to her heart. Days of quiet ease had erased the careworn lines from both their faces, and smiles came more readily to their lips now.

‘They will be alright. Their children will grow healthy and whole and filled with all the grace I see now shine forth from their parents.’ She gasped at the surety of this knowledge, a single tear of joy and of regret ran down her scaled cheek, that it would be so, and that she would not be there to see it.

*********************************************

Later that day, Pio sat by herself on the deck of the Star. Most of the crew, including Mithadan had gone ashore for the day. She sat with her back against the pillar that held the wheel,barefooted, legs stretched out. Her breeches were rolled above her knees and she wore a light sleeveless vest, allowing the warm rays of the noon time sun to warm her limbs.

Her head lolled back against the pillar, eyes closed against the bright sunlight. She was just passing into some pleasant reverie when an insistent voice near her ear spoke loudly, waking her abruptly from her doze.

‘You probably should not be out here for so long. You might burn.’

Pio shaded her eyes with her hand and opened the eye nearest the source of the voice. ‘What in the sundering Seas are you talking about Angara? I have only been sitting here a short while. And to be honest, I cannot recall ever having “burnt” myself.’ She opened both eyes and looked squarely at the Dragon. ‘Do you not have some small ones you can be herding about or entertaining? Let me get back to my day dreams.’ Pio settled back against the pillar once more and closed her eyes.

A gentle nudge on the arm from the Dragon’s snout brought her back to the surface of her dreams once again. ‘They have all gone ashore with their friends and families.’ came the voice once again. And besides, it is you I really wished to speak with.’ Angara came close and laid her head on the Pio’s thigh, her cheek nestled against the Elf’s belly.

Pio sighed and sat up straighter, her eyes wide open and focused on the Dragon. She yawned widely. ‘You have my full attention now.’ Her right hand drifted toward Angara’s head and she scratched at the bony plate between the Dragon’s eyebrows absentmindedly.

The Wyrm settled in comfortably and began the story of her talk with Ancalimon. Pio smiled at the description of the negotiations, knowing full well that it was Ancalimon who had maneuvered Angara into the set of terms she had agreed to. The Elf’s mind drifted lazily as the Dragon’s voice droned on. Her head snapped back to attention when Angara told of how Ulmo would honor her at the Choosing, and name her the Protector of Tol Meneltarma.

‘That is truly wonderful for you, my Old Friend. Exactly what you wished for, is it not? Though, I will sorely miss you when we leave.’ Pio moved her legs a little, and readjusted the weight of Angara’s head on them. The Dragon seemed to have finished her story, and lay with eyes closed against the Elf.

The thick warm air was just pulling Pio under once again to pleasant dreamings, when the voice of the Dragon stole softly into her consciousness. ‘I can hear them, you know. The twins.’ Pio looked at her, perplexed.

‘Not words, just patterns of lights in changing intensities. Delightful patterns. Playful.’

Pio smiled then, and said, “Shhh! Let’s sleep now. Soon all will be back on board, and they are sure to awaken us.’ She pulled her legs from beneath the dozing Dragon’s head and lay down beside her, head resting on one of Angara’s extended forearms. Soon, they were both of them asleep.

[ November 13, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

That evening the Star welcomed visitors aboard. Azraph and Phura along with Gamba and the boys had sailed over with Rose on one of the smaller skiffs to take a look at the ship that Cami always seemed to be discussing with such pride. The meal itself was delightful, with great piles of mushroom stew, a fresh and welcome import from Meneltarma.

But conversation had been slow. Gamba kept gazing through the porthole to the Sea beyond, with eyes distracted and confused. He'd said little during the meal, and Cami noticed that, several times, Phura had stared at him, with a face filled with worry and concern. The older brother struggled to be polite, but he seemed equally distracted. Cami was begining to wonder if she'd made a mistake in insisting the two of them this evening. She thought it might provide a bit of a break from everyone's worries about the Choosing. It didn't seem to be working.

After dinner, the little ones and Rose had run off to play with the hobbrim children who were going down to feed the sea-cows. Azraph and Phura had excused themselves to walk on deck together and have a good look at the stars overhead. Cami stayed behind in the galley, clattering about with the dinner dishes and a sink full of sudsy water. Seeing Gamba still sitting morosely in the corner, she quickly sailed a tea cloth over in his direction, "Here, this is for you. Get busy. I have a pile of dishes that need to be dried."

The boy distractedly stood up and began picking up the plates, one by one, to dry them. Then seemingly out of nowhere, he blurted out, "Do you like it here?"

"Here? Here, on the Star?"

"No," he shook his head, frustrated at her lack of understanding, "I mean here in the Sea. "Do you like the Sea?"

She reflected a moment before she replied, "I've never thought of it like that. The Sea is beautiful, but I don't see it as my home. My home is the ship, at least for right now. To me, it's a little floating island where I feel safe and secure. To be truthful, of all the folk on the Star, I probably have the least natural love for the depths of the ocean."

"Then you're not staying here?" He looked at her with a puzzled expression. "But the lore is going to be here. That's what Phura says. All the poetry and history and songs."

"Yes, I expect he's right. Or at least most of it. And I'll miss that. But most of the hobbits won't be here. Most hobbits love the land, and they'll be going to the Anduin. So I'm going too."

"Anyways," she added, "there's a lot of scenery I'm hoping to get a look at after we sail. A lot of people and places..." Her voice trailed off.

"What sort of people and places?'

She looked over at him with a conspiratorial look on her face, "Can you keep a secret?'

Gamba nodded his agreement, and waited for Cami to continue.

"I want to settle somewhere in the north. Maybe even wander for a bit. Spend the winter in the forests of Greenwood near the silvan Elves, maybe the summer close to Rivendell. There are a lot of Elves there too. It's a place of great beauty."

"I know a little Sindarin, and I've been trying to learn more. Ancalimon has promised to help us get settled. Who knows? Maybe someday, I'll even get to see the mallorns bloom." Cami sighed and looked out the porthole, half expecting to see a rich green land. But no, there was only the Sea.

"There's something else. I need to know something." He interrupted her thoughts. "Do hobbits live in caves where you're going?"

"In caves?" Cami laughed. "No, wherever did you get such a strange idea. Some live in holes on hills and river banks, but even they have a whole string of windows looking out. But you're a Fallohide. Where we're going, Fallohides live outside in the forest. Perhaps with a shelter on the forest floor if you're wintering in one place, or even in the trees like some of the Elves."

Gamba looked relieved, then hesitated and went on, "But why don't you just stay on Meneltarma? It's lovely here."

"Oh, it's lovely all right, but too small. You could skirt around the mountain, and walk from one side of the isle to the other in a single day." Cami laughed, "I need more space than that, somewhere to explore and stretch my legs."

"Gamba," Cami looked up at the boy very intently, "You have to follow your heart and do what's right for you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, but what if someone I love, in fact the only person I have left, is going someplace else, and he may be all alone?"

"That's hard, very hard," she shook her head and sighed. Separation was something she understood too well.

"Gamba, you have to do what you think is right. Ask yourself where in Arda you belong. But I will promise one thing. Rose and I have talked about this. If you feel your path lies in Middle-earth, with the forests and rolling hills, you don't have to worry about being alone. You are welcome to come with us, you and the boys, to be part of our family." She said the words quickly and then looked away, trying not to search for an answer in the boy's eyes.

Gamba shook his head, "I don't know. I just don't know. But thank you. I won't forget your words." Then she led him to the upper deck to rejoin his brother and the children, as the party again set out in the skiff with Rose to make its way back to the Elven ship.

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

When they arrived onshore, Azraph's father was waiting for her. Phura squeezed her hand, and tried to be grateful for the time that they had had together aboard The Star, eating, talking, and walking on the deck together. Now it seemed all too brief. He watched her back as she walked away.

The boys looked at each other, and noticed that their faces were smudgy fro mdinner still. Following a new custom that they had learned from the elves, they washed their faces in the water; but the only nearby water was the ocean, and they regretted it soon afterwards; their faces dried taut and uncomfortable. "Its not like the river, " Gamba said.

They all trudged off to find normal water. There was a stream coming out of the forest, and they washed in that. Then they wondered where they would sleep.

"How about over there?" Gamba pointed.

Phura looked, and then glanced at Gamba gratefully. He was pointing at a space of open ground that was within sight of Azraph's family. Phura could see her mother, and Nitir; and then Azraph raised her head, and smiled at him, and rolled so that she could see him, and lay back down happily.

They found a soft grassy spot, and Phura lay down so that he could see where Azraph was; Gamba took Maura in his arms and lay down, and the remaining four boys huddled around them. It was colder than in the caves. They shivered and drew closer and closer.

Suddenly, there were footsteps near them, and a familiar large woolen cloak swirled over the and settled on them. Adaruin tucked it around them gently, leaving a little room for breathing. "Sleep well, young hobbits," he said, and walked away. All of them were exhausted, and slipped quickly into a deep sleep.

So they did not see Loremaster and Azraph's father emerge from the trees, holding a soft but very animated conversation. Nor did they see that the conversation continued well into the night.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Much later that evening, Cami returned to the deck of the Star and sat next to the railing, staring out at the Sea. It was hard to believe her time here would be ending so soon. Her mind wandered back to that first night in Minas Anor when she'd met Bird and Pio in a ramshackle Inn close to the docks. She remembered feeling decidedly uncomfortable, and having serious doubts about the two strange women who were proposing to go with her to search for 'sea-hobbits'.

Now, in less than a year, Cami almost felt like a different person. It seemed as if she'd known Bird and Pio her whole life, and the thought of parting from them, even to go and live with her beloved hobbits, was hard to bear.

At that instant, Cami heard a rustling noise from above, like a great bird hurtling down from the masthead. A flash of green and gold came tumbling onto the deck in front of her. The small ball unrolled, and out popped Angara's head and tail. The wyrmlet tugged on Cami's skirts and slid onto the hobbit's lap, nestling up against her warm body.

Angara must be in a good mood, Cami refected. That was the only time when she consented to shrink down to her smaller size and curl up like a contented cat before a fire. Cami began rhythmically scratching the scales behind the dragon's head. The wyrm stretched and purred in appreciation.

I shall miss you, Cami told her.

I too, came the reply. Did you hear what I am going to do? Angara positively glowed and puffed up a bit with pride.

Cami shook her head yes. Ancalimon told me. It will be wonderful for you. All those hobbrim children to keep in line. I would think there'll be a lot of marriages with more babies on the way in just a little while.

You know that you and I will be doing the same thing, Cami. I will be here with the children of Meneltarma, and you with the children of the Anduin.

Cami smiled and nodded, I hadn't thought of it that way, but you may be right. Then she looked seriously at the dragon and whispered out loud, "It does help, doesn't it? To be with the children, so the part of you that's missing someone doesn't hurt so much."

The dragon nodded as a single tear raced down her cheek, "Yes, it makes all the difference in the world. But you should go to your bed, little hobbit. You will have a big day tomorrow."

I can't sleep.

The boy? questioned the dragon.

Yes, the boy and his little ones. I keep wanting him to choose the Anduin because I truly believe he'll be happier there. But then, I feel guilty for even thinking of such a thing, since he'll probably have to leave his brother whom he dearly loves.

The dragon turned whirling eyes otowards her, Just remember, Cami Goodchild, whatever he decides is his choice, not yours. Your wishing or wanting won't push it either way.

Cami nodded and yawned. She was about to turn around and retire to her cabin, when she caught a glimpse of Piosenniel standing quietly in the stern and also staring out to Sea. "Pio, is that you?"

The Elf turned about. "Yes, I needed some time to think."

For a moment there was silence between them in the darkness. Cami struggled to find the right words, "I'll let you be then, but there's one thing I must say. I don't know what's going to happen after tomorrow. I expect we'll be sailing in the Star for our final trip. We may get so busy that I won't even have the chance to talk like this again." She looked the Elf in the eye.

"There's something I need to tell you before we go our separate ways. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you've done for the hobbits. You may look like an Elf on the outside; you may even have decided to pledge yourself to one of the big folk, but inside there's still part of you that's straight hobbit. Remember that when you're playing with the twins. Hobbits make good mothers." Cami's voice started to crack.

She looped her arms about Pio's belly and whispered, "I so wish I could have seen them, you and the twins together. When you hold them in your arms one day, don't forget to give them a kiss from Auntie Cami."

There was no more to be said. Cami awkwardly turned and tripped down the ladder, brushing away the tears which streamed down her face. Then she retreated towards her cabin to try and get some sleep.

[ November 14, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

There was a hesitant knock at the door. Pio raised her head from the pillow and looked up at the porthole. No light shone through it. The room was dark - the small candle lantern lit to ward off the night shadows had burnt itself out to a waxy nubbin long ago. A small, faint pool of candle light crept under the door, obscured here and there by the feet of the one who stood there knocking.

Mithadan slept soundly through it, though Pio nudged him in hopes he would see to it. She inched her way off the end of the bed, wrapping her cloak around her as she stood. ‘Shadow take you!’ she muttered as she tripped over Mithadan’s boots left carelessly where he had pulled them off and thrown them down.

The knocking stopped altogether as she muttered her curse and kicked the offending boots out of her way. Then a small voice whispered through the wood of the door. ‘Pio? Are you up yet? I need to talk with you.’

‘Daisy?’ she said, ‘Is that you? Wait just a moment for me to dress. Then I’ll be out.’

She pulled on her breeches and a warm sweater, grabbing her boots and throwing her cloak about her as she went out the door. ‘What are you doing up so early?’ she asked, leaning against the wall of the passageway as she pulled on her boots. Before the hobbit could answer, Pio led her down to the galley, and pulled two mugs from the cupboard for tea.

Daisy was in a fidgety mood. Pio handed her the teapot and the can of tea and sat down to wait for her to brew it. The familiar routine quieted the young girl’s nerves as she moved through it. She poured a steaming mug for Pio when it was finished and pushed the honey pot and spoon toward her. ‘Let’s go up to the deck.’ she said. ‘I need some fresh air.’

They had just exited the galley and were heading down the gangplank when two small voices called out. ‘Can we come with you?’ Pio stopped in midstride and shook her head. ‘Is no one on this ship sleeping tonight?!’ she asked as she turned round. She handed her mug of tea to Daisy and held out her hands to the two Hobbrim, each still sleepy-eyed, wrapped in quilts from their bunks. ‘Come, girls. We will all go up together.’ Coral and Shell grabbed hold of her first fingers and trooped up the stairs to the deck.

Daisy led them to the bow. It was quiet there and private – no Hobbits or Hobbrim , their bedrolls spread out, sleeping. Pio sat down crosslegged on the deck and drew the two Hobbrim girls onto her lap, one on each side. She tucked their wraps around them and maneuvered their already drowsing heads against each shoulder. By the time Daisy had settled herself next to Pio, and handed over her cup of tea, Coral and Shell had fallen fast asleep.

‘You will be a good mother, Pio.’ said Daisy, sipping her tea and watching the Elf rock the two in a lulling rhythm with the gentle sway of her body. ‘I suppose, I will.’ came the quiet reply. ‘But,’ she continued, looking at the Hobbit, ‘I don’t think you woke me to comment on my mothering skills.’

Pio looked out to where the moon shown on the water, hundreds of tiny perfect moons each wholly captured in each wave as it rose and fell. She waited for Daisy to collect her thoughts and go on.

‘Today is the day set for the Choosing, and though I have made up my mind how I will choose, I really do not want this day to come. I cannot bear the thought of never seeing my friends . . . never seeing you, again.’ She leaned against the Elf’s arm, and sighed.

‘Then you have chosen to stay with the Hobbrim. A well made choice, Daisy!’ They sat in easy silence for a while, then Pio asked, in a low voice, ‘Will you do something for me?’ The Hobbit looked up at her, questioningly. ‘I have grown quite fond of these two little sweetings. They remind me a lot of myself when I was a child and a lot of you when first I met you. Independent thinkers, and often outspoken! I will not be around to keep an eye on them. They will need someone to look up to, to guide them, to keep them from harm. Will you do that for me?’ She felt the Hobbit’s head against her arm nod ‘yes’, and heard the softly murmured, ‘Always.’

Pio smiled, and looked up at the night sky, dotted with stars. ‘Do you remember what that one is?’ she asked Daisy, pointing to the northeast quadrant. ‘It is the Butterfly, Wilwarin.’ laughed Daisy. ‘The same that you had told me of when I fell asleep on the deck, and woke to see Mithadan first kiss you.’

‘The same, indeed!’ laughed Pio. She looked down at the Hobbit’s face, now upturned to watch the star patterns. ‘I will think of you every night, Daisy, when I gaze up at the star strung sky. The same patterns are fixed in the night sky where I will be, as they are over you. When I look at Wilwarin, spreading her gleaming wings, I will think of you.’

‘And I, you, Pio.’

Dawn found them still sitting on the deck, talking over small things of no great consequence, as friends do. Pio urged the heavy lidded Daisy to go down to her bunk and take some rest, promising her she would wake her when she and Mithadan went to the Isle for the Choosing. Coral and Shell were roused from sleep and went down to their beds, too.

Once the trio was delivered to their rest, Pio stopped in the galley and splashed some cold water on her face. She foraged for some dried fruits and grabbed another mug of warm tea. Taking the steps two at a time, she went back up to the deck - to watch the sun come up fully and hear the first song of the birds as they heralded the new day.

[ November 14, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Birdland]

The dulcet serenade of the morning songbirds was rudely interrupted by a raucous "caw" out of the sky, bringing an awkward silence to the performance as the dawn chorus looked askance at the offender. Then a small black and white crow landed on the rail by the Elf, totally oblivious to her ill-timed notes.

Pio smiled at the crow and idly reach out to scratch its feathers. The birds went back to their singing. The crow ducked away from the stroking hand. "Stop that, Pio! I'm not a blessed house cat, y'know."

"Forgive me, you just looked so fluffy this morning." said Pio with a laugh. "And how have you been spending your days, Bird, I have not seen much of you lately, where have you been?"

"Oh, here and there. There and here" said the crow, which then morphed into human form, the woman sitting on the rail and swinging her feet back and forth over the water. "Flying about the island. Swimming around it's waters scouting the hunting and possible caves for living, though you would think these folk have had enough of caves, still, they will need some such places for storing supplies and for gatherings. Kali has been with me some. Very excited he is; speaking of how much his new "cousins" will enjoy this particular grotto, or that patch of searooms. He has everyone moved in and settled already, in his mind."

"And who will this 'everyone' be?" asked Pio.

"Oh, well, I wouldn't like to say," Bird replied thoughtfully. "Kali seems to have his own ideas on that, though he has been very good about not "campaigning" for certain people to come to the Hobbrim side. He mostly listens and answers questions about his life. He and I have taken a few of the bolder ones on short trips to 'the Abyss', as we did for Phura. Some are worried, some excited. A few were actually frightened, thinking that there was going to be a 'drawing of lots'. We soon put a stop to those rumors. Free choice for all, though not an easy one, I fear, for some. I hope there will not be some who regret their decision in the end."

"There are always folk who are dissatisfied with their lives, Birdie. At least they can say they were given the chance to choose, in this case."

"And what of you Bird? Any decisions concerning your life after all this?" Pio asked, and waited, dreading the reply in a way.

"Yessss..." said Bird, dreading the reply also, in a way. "I've neglected things for a while, Pio. I was searching for my kin, but I let it go. I got discouraged, and gave up, resigning myself to the thought that they were all gone, dead or scattered into the world of the beasts. But Ancalimon has hinted that this is not so. That they are still out there."

"To the South?"

"Yes, to the South". Birdie shrugged her shoulders and coughed nervously. "So, I suppose when we get back to the Fourth Age, I shall just fly South." The Elf silently gave the skinchanger a look and arched an eyebrow.

"What?" asked Bird irritably. "Don't give me that look. Well, what would you do, then?"

[ November 14, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[piosenniel]

‘You kill me, Bird! You know that, do you not!’

Bird frowned at the now laughing Elf. ‘What is so funny about my plan?’ She turned round on the rail and nudged Pio, none too gently, with her foot. Pio leaned on the railing, stifling her laughter, and sighed deeply. ‘We have just come through a long, and I might add ‘successful’, quest to find Kali’s heritage and the missing pieces to Hobbit history. You were there when we researched it, ferreted out clues, put a plan in place. We did not go haring off after it.’

She looked out over the calm sea, collecting her thoughts before she went on. Bird was not one for long hours spent among dusty parchments searching for answers, nor was she one to draw up lists and plot courses on maps. Pio worried that her friend would find nothing but the ongoing frustration she had always had about the gaping holes in her self history. She worried even more that Bird would do something truly rash, and she would never see her again.

Pio chewed on her bottom lip, thinking, and looked down at the deck as if the answers were written there somehow. ‘If she starts rubbing the back of her neck, I’m out of here.’ thought Bird to herself, as she watched the Elf, noting how her brow furrowed, and her eyes narrowed in concentration, a certain gleam having come into them.

‘I have the vague glimmerings of a plan, my friend.’ Pio looked up and massaged the back of her neck, with her left hand. Her right arm shot out and held Bird in place.

I heard you! Do not go until you have heard me out.

Pio spoke seriously to her friend, detailing how they might split up the research for Bird’s quest. Pio would do the groundwork search for clues in the large library in Minas Anor, and in whatever ports she and Mithadan might put into on their trading voyages. Bird would do the actual footwork, traveling to the Southern and Eastern lands. They would draw up a map together of what they knew of these lands for Bird to make notes on concerning places and clues she had found.

Bird would, of course, be visiting Pio and Mithadan on a somewhat regular basis – to see her old friends and to collect the monies coming to her from their use of the Lonely Star for trading voyages. It was then that Bird and Pio would exchange the information they had gleaned from their researches.

Bird’s eyes had glazed over by the end of Pio’s plan, though she had fixed on the facts she need not do any text research and that there would be a somewhat regular source of money coming in to her.

Pio smiled at her, and punched her lightly on the arm to draw her attention. ‘So, what do you think of that plan, my friend? Any comments?’ She leaned on the rail and looked out to sea. ‘Of course you do understand, that being a plan of mine, it is subject to instant revision should the need arise.'

[ November 14, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Child's post

It was mid afternoon when the hobbits and hobbrim crowded together on the beach. Today there was little laughter or teasing, and no light hearted tales or riddles to be heard. Most of those who waited looked solemn or worried. Family members huddled close and held tightly to each other. Cami and Rose had pushed their way to the front, where they stood side-by-side, holding hands. Every so often, the younger girl turned around to stare at the cresting waves and search for the first glimpse of Ulmo's robe or sceptre. But, so far, she'd had no luck.

Ancalimon dragged a heavy stick along the ground, making a deep impression in the sand that divided the inner area into two equal parts. Then he stood before the assembly, "This is where you will go. There for the hobbits," pointing to the left. "And there for the hobbrim," pointing again to the right. "After we finish the names, Ulmo will come by the shore and lead the hobbrim into the Sea." Rose looked nervously at Cami as she considered this. The two hobbits had spoken earlier, and both thought Daisy would choose to be at Kali's side.

"Now, I will begin. Just walk forward and join the group you've chosen."

Gandalf took the list and prepared to read the names. He adjusted his spectacles, peered at the sheets of vellum, and cleared his throat.

"Camelia and Rose Goodchild"

There was absolute silence. No one moved. Certainly not Cami or Rose, as all eyes turned expectently towards them. Then Cami felt a poke from behind her, as Kali jabbed a webbed finger into her ribs. "That's you." he whispered fiercely.

For an instant, Cami seemed startled or surprised. She hadn't expected their names to be first. Then, without hesitation, she and Rose trotted over to the left of the circle.

Ancalimon nodded, then continued. Family after family, name after name were spoken aloud as hobbits and hobbrim came forward to state their choice. At one point Cami heard Kali's name and caught a glimpse of the hobbrim walking towards the space just opposite her. They were physically so close that Cami could have reached out and touched his hand.

Every few names, you could see the hurting underneath as brother split from brother, or grandparents sobbed to see grown children step away, with their little ones tucked under their arms. But most families stayed together, and, as Cami had guessed, the number of hobbits going to the Anduin was roughly double that staying on Meneltarma.

They were about two-thirds of the way though when Ancalimon reached Daisy's name. How different she seemed, Cami thought! She looked nothing like the frightened girl who'd hidden in her closet months before. So much had happened. Rose grabbed Cami's hand as she saw her friend look up. She leaned over and whispered, "I'm really going to miss her." Cami nodded. She could feel Rose's fingers clenching even tighter as Daisy begin to step forward.

Pio's Post

Daisy stepped forth with such assuredness that the breath caught in Pio’s throat. The young Hobbit nodded to Ancalimon and strode to take her place among the Hobbits who had chosen to make the Change. She smiled at Kali, who grinned back at her, his cheeks tinged crimson. She waved to both Cami and Rose, standing just across from them. She turned, then, and looking at Pio and smiled broadly.

Pio stepped forth slightly and tossed something in her direction. It shimmered as it sailed through the air under the bright light of the sun. Daisy caught it deftly in her hands and laughed as she held it up to view. It was that last, small, flat rock that she had not thrown into the sea the day she had struggled with her decision about the Choosing. She had given it to Pio, and now the Elf had returned it to her, cradled in fine mithril wire and strung from a bright mithril chain.

She gasped in delight as she turned it over on her palm, to find a small butterfly etched on its surface, the star pattern of Wilwarin picked out within its boundaries. She looked fully at Pio and mouthed ‘Thank you!’ as she placed the necklace over her head. Then she stepped forward, and turned her face toward the sea, where soon by the grace of Ulmo she would take her place among the Hobbrim.

Pio stepped back, to her place beside Mithadan, willing the tears away that threatened at the corners of her eyes. He reached for her hand, placing it within his, and squeezed it gently in assurance.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Kesha stood with Phura, leaning against him, Phura with his arms protectively around the boy. Beside him, lingering, Gamba stood with the four boys-- Roka, Asta, Ban, little Maura. He couldn't tear himself away from Phura to go to the Anduin group yet. He stood beside his brother, hating the division that was coming.

Phura watched, despairing, as Azraph's father turned, with his family following, and headed to the Anduin group. He had thought that he was braced for this, but his face fell nonetheless. Gamba put his hand on his brother's shoulder, and Phura thought how much he would miss that friendly touch, and he cringed and fought back tears.

"Think of the water, " Gamba braced him. "Storms out to sea. Really big storms. You'll be happy. You'll be okay." But watching Azraph's father, and guessing at his brother's despair, Gamba was choking back tears of his own.

Then Loremaster, with Andril beside him, was walking toward the Anduin side, and Phura all but panicked. He had thought Loremaster at least was coming with him. Not even he? And why was Andril going there? Was she going to become a hobbit?

But Loremaster and Andril walked up to Azraph's father, who nodded, and held out his hand toward Azraph. Azraph stepped forward, head held high, chin quivering; and then tears began, and she threw her arms around her father's neck, weeping. Next she embraced her mother, and then each of her siblings, her sister Nitir last of all. Nitir sobbed and sobbed, and turned to her mother for comfort.

And then Loremaster and Andril together were leading the still-weeping Azraph towards Phura. As she met Phura's eyes, she smiled through her tears, let go of Loremaster's hand and reached for Phura.

Kesha wisely stepped aside.

Phura cried out in disbelief, dashed his tears away, took her hand and kissed it, drew her into a tight embrace, and held her fast. Gamba was laughing through his own tears, and looking for someone to embrace, and Azraph caught his eye and reached one hand to him, and he threw his arms around them both. They stayed that way a long time.

Eventually they all slowly slipped apart, and Phura began wiping Azraph's tears away with his own sleeve. And then he stopped.

"Twelve years, " he whispered to Azraph. "We've got to wait twelve years. And Gamba won't be there when I marry you."

"I'm sorry, " Azraph said, and she meant it. "I wish he could be."

"Azraph," he whispered huskily, "can I kiss you now? So he can see it."

Only Phura would have thought of it that way, Azraph thought, and laughed. "All right. Yes. Gamba, are you watching?"

Gamba was way behind both of them. "What? Watching what?"

Phura explained it again. "You won't be there when I marry her. So I want you to see me kiss her now."

Gamba laughed in amazement, and then sobered. His brother was totally serious, and it obviously meant a great deal to him. "If you want to. All right. Go ahead."

Right arm around her shoulders, left arm around her waist. Phura kissed her, and Gamba smiled, blinking back tears and biting back laughter, and only smiled wider when he heard Azraph's father roar, "HEY!"

Loremaster, who was still standing nearby and had heard everything, was sadly smiling, and waving unconcernedly at Azraph's father. Azraph's father began to get red in the face-- until he saw Phura release Azraph, and throw his arms around Gamba, and burst into tears. And then he mostly understood.

Gamba held his brother tightly, and said, "Good luck. Enjoy your storms. I'll always think of you when it rains. Every time."

Phura could say nothing, and only held on tighter, until he hoarsely said, "Good luck, Gamba, you rascal. You enjoy the trees. "

"I will," replied Gamba.

Phura took a deep breath, and looked at Loremaster, and Kesha, taking his hand, and lastly at Azraph, twining his fingers with hers-- for the last time, he thought, remembering that Hobbrim had webbed fingers.

There would be much to get used to.

They waited, watching, while other families made their choice; Corby, Tuka, Mika, and Kima all elected to remain as Hobbits and go to the the Anduin, and Gamba felt a twinge of comfort each time.

"Phura and Gamba Tuk."

Gamba gave Phura's shoulder one last slap, and their eyes met again. Gamba nodded. "Now go on. Go find your stormy dream."

Phura nodded, and looked around. Loremaster, oddly, was standing with Phura as a member of his family, ready to follow, bracing Phura with his presence. Azraph smiled, and Kesha tightened his grip on Phura's hand. With one last look back at Gamba, Phura led Kesha and Azraph toward the water. Loremaster, slapping Gamba on the shoulder, followed.

He watched them go. And then leading his four children, Gamba went to join the Anduin group, pondering what had happened. Loremaster had said clearly enough that he did not want Phura to be alone. He guessed Loremaster had arranged that Azraph would stay with Andril; indeed, as he was watching, Andril and Azraph did exchange several smiles. Gamba gazed at the old man with new respect and deeper love, glad that Phura had Loremaster to be with him, and thinking with surprise that he just might miss the old man after all.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[mark12_30]

Cami looked up with a startled smile as Gamba walked a straight line towards her. With Maura in his arms, and Roka, Asta, and Ban following, he walked up to her, and held her eyes.

"Hello, Gamba, " she whispered.

He put Maura down, and reached for Asta, and picked him up, and handed him to Cami. Her eyebrows went up, and she accepted the boy. Rose watched.

Next, Gamba took Ban's hand, and drew him towards Rose. Grateful, she gathered the boy close to her, and he snuggled into her skirts, looking up at Cami and then over at the group on the shore.

Gamba pulled Roka between Cami and Rose, and then bent back down, and picked Maura up again. But he stood so close to Cami that Maura reached up and grabbed a lock of her hair. Gamba absently caught Maura's wrist so that he could not pull her hair, and then his attention wandered and he stood like that. Cami smiled, waiting. Gamba forgot all about the boy, and the imprisoned lock of hair.

Finally Asta reached over and tried to help, hauling on the lock of hair. Cami winced, and indeed the wrench came soon after, as Asta successfully freed the lock.

"I'm sorry!" Gamba whispered, jolting back to reality as he heard her gasp. To his horror, she was crying. He reached up to wipe away her copious tears.

But they had started long before Asta had pulled her hair. She freed one arm, and wrapped it around Gamba, who drew still closer to her. She kissed his curly head, and he smiled at her, nervous and embarassed, but glad to be near her and Rose. Rose put a hand on his shoulder, and he nervously smiled at her too.

They turned back to watch the shore.

[ November 16, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

The calling of the names was now done, and Ancalimon rolled up the scroll, placing it securely in the belt at his waist. He walked among those who had chosen to become Hobbrim, murmuring assurances and congratulations to many as he passed. Then going to the group of Hobbits who had chosen to migrate into Middle-earth, he bade them now step back from the beach and onto the grassy rise which ran along its sandy, rear boundary.

A great hush fell over the assembly as Man, Elf, Hobbits, and Hobbrim looked to the West. Those on the beach felt themselves drawn to the very edge of the sea-strand. The frothy tide lapped at their feet and inched up their ankles. As all watched, a great, black cloud formed on the horizon of the now darkening sea. The air grew cold as if a storm would soon pass in toward them.

There were murmurings and stirrings among those gathered on the grassy rise. Some there were who were sore affrighted at these events and sought to rush out toward the sea to bring back their loved ones. But Ancalimon held them back, saying, ‘Look to the faces of those who stand in the outreaching arms of the sea. They yearn for what comes. It burns brightly in their hearts, and they are not afraid. Stand back, and let this pass to them.’

Then did all those gathered look toward the place where the sun had been, that was now hidden like a smoky flame behind the menacing sky. And it seemed to them that a great, dark wave rose on the horizon of the waters and rolled toward them.

Wonder held them in their places as mists and shadows played about the wave as it drew near. Then it crested, and curled, and broke, rushing forward in long arms of foam and froth to rise up round the waists of the Chosen Hobbits.

And where it had broken, there now stood tall against the clearing sky a great figure of shifting light and majesty.

All who stood there, bowed in reverence to him, for he seemed a mighty king. The long dark tresses of his hair glimmered with sea foam as they cascaded down his mighty back. Upon his head was set a crown of silver, and about him draped a long grey cloak that clung to him like a soft mist.

He threw open his cloak and beneath it was a gleaming coat, well fitted round his torso as the silvered mail of a giant fish. And below that hung a shimmering kirtle, girt with ropes of pearls, in deep greens that flashed and flickered with an inner fire as he strode toward the shore.

Thus it was that Ulmo, The Dweller of the Deep, The Lord of Waters, stood, knee deep in the waves and beheld those who had chosen to be counted among his creatures. He smiled at them, then, like the sun breaking through a clouded sky to light up the waves beneath it. And in his gleaming eyes they beheld the depths of the deepest seas

‘Arise!’ he called to them, in a voice so deep it seemed to issue from the very foundations of the firmament. ‘Fear me not. For thou art my people now, and thou will I cradle dear in my arms, until thy doom calls thee to its fulfillment.’

Then did he reach out his mighty arms to them, and as one they strode out into the surf, heedless of the rising waters. To his lips he raised a great Conch, blowing a single, deep resounding note upon it, and moved his arm in a great circle before him, stirring the waters of the world to his purpose.

There arose before him a great swelling of the sea, a mighty wave, rising up in glassy greens and shot with the fires of an inner light. Its spume caught the sun’s light, and dazzled the eyes of those who stood on the land so that their sight was taken from them for a moment.

Then did it break over those who rushed toward it. They were engulfed by the power of it, and vanished utterly as it pulled all under and flowed over them.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami knelt down on the sandy ridge, with the ringing of the sea sound in her ears. The pulse and flow of water raced through her body, like a river rushing forward from an underground fount. Many things that had been hidden now seemed clear, as the Lady of her dreams stood before her again, with swirling snowflakes on her skirt. Then, Cami saw a single tear falling from Nienna's eyes, a gift more precious than any jewel. Too soon, the scene shimmered and faded away.

Each in that assembly saw a different thing when the great wave rose. Many feared for their kin and their friends, as they cried out for succor and relief. Some spied the wave but were not afraid, because they sensed its goodness. But a few heard quiet stirrings within their own hearts.

Gamba was one of these. In a split instant, he knew his brother stood nearby. Phura sang more beautfully than he'd ever done. The boy yearned to turn and hug him, only he wasn't really there. As grief and joy flooded together, Gamba's tears spilled down. Then Cami went over and slipped her arm around his shoulder. They stood like that a long time, both gazing towards the Sea.

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

The long arms of the wave came rushing up toward the grassy rise, inundating completely the now empty beach. Fingers of foam reached forward to wet the toes of the waiting friends and families and then receded quickly. Ulmo stood still in the moving waves, as they rushed past his mighty thews to return to the greater sea.

One by one, curly haired tops of heads popped up through the retreating waters, and familiar faces surfaced, eyes blinking in the now bright sunlight. A great intake of breath was heard as those waiting on the grass saw their loved ones reappear from beneath the receding waves.

Then did Ulmo speak once more. ‘Angara, Ancient of Worms! Thee I name Protector in my stead, here on this fair Isle. Thou wilt nurture and preserve my creatures until another Age calls them to fulfill their weird. Come, I bid thee escort thy charges to their new home.’

Angara came down among the new changed Hobbrim and stood with them as they bowed as one to Ulmo. She, too, bowed her head in acknowledgement of the Vala’s gracious gift, both to herself and to the destiny of Middle-earth. They watched as Ulmo gathered his cloak of mists about his mighty form, and then turning from them, strode quickly out toward the deeps of the sea.

It seemed, even as he did so, that it was not he but the waters which diminished before him. For he did not sink beneath them, but moved through them with their waves lapping ever at his knees. And having come at last to the joining of sky and water, he turned and placed the great Conch once more to his lips and blew a single, clear note that fell upon the waves like silvered fire and brought a rush of hope and light into the hearts of all those who heard it.

Then in an instant was he gone from their sight, a bank of glimmering mist soon disappearing in the sun’s light.

The mesmeric moment passed, and soon the two groups were calling loudly to one another as they ran to greet and embrace their loved ones.

[ November 17, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

"You're so beautiful."

He was lost in her eyes. Azraph wondered whether she was blushing. Could a Hobbrim blush? She didn't know.

Beside Phura, Kesha bobbed, and splashed with his newly webbed hands. Loremaster splashed him back. Kesha dove at Loremaster, and the two of them began splashing, wrestling and dunking each other, Loremaster letting Kesha win more often than not.

Phura was still staring at Azraph, completely overwhelmed. Azraph smiled, and drew closer to Phura. She studied his face, changed, and yet not changed. She smiled wider, and soon laughter bubbled up inside her. Mischief sparkled in her eyes, and suddenly, she leaped towards him, diving into the water at his side.

It took him a moment to snap into motion, and then he followed her. She swam beneath the water, holding her breath, and he swam beside her; she came up for breath and he followed her to the surface, and their eyes met. She dove again, heading for deeper water.

They came up for breath regularly, laughing, looking out over the deeper water. But suddenly as they surfaced, Kali appeared beside them.

"Reach for the water, not for the air, " he told them.

"How?" Phura asked.

"Wait, " Kali said and swam back towards the shore.

Azraph shrugged, and began swimming circles around Phura. He watched her, twisting in place as best he could. Before long he was rather good at it.

Suddenly Kali reappeared, and beside him swam someone that looked familiar.

"Daisy?"

"Hello!"

"I'm so glad you came, " Azraph said.

Kali smiled, and then said, "Come on. The three of you. Follow me under."

They dove. And Kali led them deeper, and deeper, and deeper, plunging beneath the sun-shot water. Purely from habit, Phura's mind was crying out, Surface, surface, you're going to need air. But his lungs were fine; his head was clear; and Kali only led them deeper.

Azraph met his eyes, and she laughed underwater. All the air in her lungs escaped, and the bubbles rose; and still she followed Kali down.

Phura laughed, and Daisy too, and still they dove. Schools of fish flashed by, and nearby dolphins clicked and whistled, and still they dove.

Finally, Kali slowed his descent, and met their eyes, waiting. Hovering in the emerald murk with a faint glow above, they gazed around. The ocean floor was not far beneath them, and from where he was, Phura could see coral, shells, plants, and starfish.

They each picked up something interesting from the floor, and passed it around. And then they remembered their relatives and friends, and together they turned around and headed back towards the beach, carrying their discoveries.

Gamba had waded knee deep into the water, and was waiting for his brother. Phura and Azraph approached him, and as they came to waist-deep water, their hands met. It took them a moment to readjust their grip to their newly webed fingers. But they walked towards Gamba, wondering what he would think.

Gamba grinned. "Has Kali called you Cousin yet? You look it, " he laughed, and reached for his brother. "Are you cold?"

"I don't know, " Phura said, "Am I?"

"Clammy!" said Gamba, touching his brother's arm. "Gee, it's kinda leathery, too, " he poked and prodded.

"Well I won't hug you then, " Phura chuckled, but no sooner had he said it than Gamba bear-hugged him ferociously.

Loremaster and Kesha came to joint hem, and they walked up on shore. The four hobbit-boys clustered around Kesha, poking and prodding him, and then they explored Phura's face and Azraph's hands. Ban cried, and Phura could not comfort him; Gamba had to.

"I suppose you'll be joining the hobbrim for dinner, and all that, " Gamba said wistfully.

Phura saddened, a little, and then said, "Where will you be?"

"He'll spend the night with us, " Cami replied, approaching. "On The Lonely Star. That is, unless he wants to sleep out here in the trees."

Gamba turned towards her, momentarily bewidlered by the choice. With Nitir and Azra on the ship? Or out under the beautiful, haunting, friendly, welcoming trees? But then he remembered that there were elves on board the ship too, and that tipped the balance. "All right. The ship."

"Well, if you're not here by midmorning again, I'll swim out and find you. All right?"

Suddenly Gamba realised that for the first time in his entire life, he and his brother were not going to be in the same place for the entire night. "All right. I'll see you then, " he whispered.

---------------------------------------------

Child's post

As Cami walked smiling over the beach, she was astonished at the number of hobbrim grinning back at her. She'd gotten used to Kali, and then to Andril's hidden enclave on the shores of Numenor that numbered about thirty-five. But this was hundreds and hundreds of hobbrim, all cavorting and scampering about on the rocks, in the water, and through the sands. It was an amazing sight.

Most of the hobbits ran over to greet their friends and kin who'd now taken on this different guise. They were intently curious, poking and prodding their cousins to see exactly what this new form was like. Souvenirs of seashells and shining rocks were brought ashore in large numbers as gifts to waiting hobbit hands. Cami stuffed her pockets and her belt until she could carry no more. Even the more fearful of the hobbits were brave enough to come closer and get a good look at the hobbrim.

Cami darted about the shoreline here and there, hoping she could store enough memories in her head so the pictures would survive her next trip through the veil of time. What a long way she'd come from that mysterious note in the margin of Bilbo's book referring to a lost sea-hobbit! Now the whole isle was filled with the ringing laughter of hobbrim voices.

Before returning to the ship with Gamba and the boy that evening, Cami stopped for an instant to gaze towards the West, a smile on her face. Bilbo, good teacher, I don't know if you're there, or if word of this will ever reach you. But, if so, I hope you will look on this scene and be pleased, and remember the little girl next door whom you befriended. Your book has opened a door for our people. Thank you. Truly, thank you.

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]


Cami showed Gamba her quarters. He looked around, wide-eyed, and circled the room twice, asking questions, looking at things, picking them up and putting them down. Colorful things fascinated him almost as much as they did the little children; sometimes more.

Then he yawned, and wearily sat crosslegged on the floor, and little Maura climbed into his arms. Cami watched, hungry to be holding the toddler, knowing better than to come between the two. Maura settled comfortably down, and waited. Gamba sighed.

"Why don't you sing?" Roka asked him, coming over to sit down.

"I was waiting for you, and for Asta, and Ban, " Gamba said. They came, and joined him. He sighed. "I miss Kesha, " he said, and they nodded. "And Phura too, " added Roka, and Gamba bit back sudden tears.

"Now why don't you sing?" Asta prompted, and Cami was tempted to shush him, watching Gamba struggle. But he took a deep breath, and said, "I need you two to help me, all right? You, Asta, and you too, Roka."

They nodded, very seriously.

Gazing into little Maura's eyes, Gamba softly and sweetly began as if he was singing a simple, little lullaby. The boys joined in. But the song was no lullaby, not simple, not brief. It went on and on.

Loremaster bold, our Maura wise
Together staunchly held the tribes
In the northward marching columns;
Kind he was, stalwart and strong.

With grieving eyes and healing hand
he led his people cross the land
to Ladros, and our wounds he bound,
our tears he dried, and hope he found.

And caring hearts and hands were felt
In ruin bleak, where children dwelt;
With Nitir's strength, and Azra's cheer
Raising hope, dismissing fear.

With caring eyes and guiding hand
He settled us into that land
to till and watch the roots go deep
til autumn brought a harvest sweet.

With sparkling eyes and passionate hand
He told us stories of that land,
Its past, its people; now our lives
Reflect their struggles in our time.

Through storm, hunger and snowstorm bleak
Our hope failed not nor did grow weak.
Til winter fell; at midnight came
The order dark to march again.

He gathered then the wise counsel
And they this march prepared full well.
We gained, as one, Dorthonion's peak;
We lost nor aged nor the weak.

With shining eyes and steady hand
He led his people cross the land,
Fear cast aside, fell weapons hid
That victory gave to freedom's bid.

Our strength flourish'd in courage keen.
We tilled the lush hillsides and green,
While round us surged the raging main;
Dorthonion's slopes our home became.

Alone we dwell now on this shore,
Ancient homes drown'd forevermore;
Memories alone of them we save,
Beleriand sunk beneath the wave.

Bold Maura sleeps beneath these hills
And hearts he had with courage filled;
Beloved he lies beneath our land,
With closed eye and resting hand.

Beyond the circles of the world
In unknown realms his spirit dwells,
Holds love in those eternal lands
With joyful eye and gentle hand.


The song finished. Little Maura was sound asleep, and Asta, Roka, and Ban were yawning, and even Gamba was beginning to nod during the final verse. In a single, practiced motion, Gamba carefully shifted Maura close to his chest and lay down on the hard wooden deck while Roka, Asta, and Ban snuggled around him, and the five of them were sound asleep in seconds.

With the last verse of the song echoing in her heart, Cami got up, one by one kissed her fingertips and softly touched each of the five boys' curls; and then brought a blanket, and gently spread it over the five of them. Rose came in as she did so, and whispered, "Why aren't they in a bed?"

"Tomorrow. They'll be all right for one night."

"I was looking forward to rocking a toddler, " Rose pouted.

"So was I, " murmured Cami. "So was I."

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

Pio watched as the festive group of Hobbits and Hobbrim celebrated having come through another trial. Daisy had run to her, wet from the embrace of the sea, her curls dancing with flowers of foam. She was happy, and a steady light burnt now in her eyes. Pio had rejoiced with her, and hugged her fiercely; then, smiling, sent her back to seek out Kali.

The Elf stood back on the rise, removed from the reveling group. She watched as Cami and Rose moved among the Hobbits and Hobbrim, belonging among them. Angara had found a spot on the sandy beach, and now had Hobbrim children swarming over her in playful abandon. Bird had waded out into the waves to speak with Kali and Levanto. Mithadan stood with Ancalimon greeting and speaking with those who approached them. He was happy and relaxed and laughed readily at the comments Ancalimon made to him.

Her own face bore a reserved countenance, her eyes a growing sadness. Soon, too soon, would this all be ended. She turned from the sights before her, and made her way south to where Tuor’s ship lay at anchor. A short ride in one of the skiffs brought her there, and she called out to Idril.

Idril! It is Piosenniel. Let me come on board. I must speak with you.

********************************************

‘Always interesting is it not when one of the Valar show themselves this side of Aman.’ It was a statement, not really meant as a question. Small talk by Idril as she watched Pio collect her thoughts.

It was late afternoon, heading rapidly toward evening as the two women sat watching the sun descend toward the rim of the sea. Idril had asked one of the Teleri to go to the Star to let Mithadan know where Pio was, and that she would return when they had finished talking. Though by the indecisive look on Pio’s face, she thought that might be late into the night.

Idril sat back in her chair prepared to wait out the silence, then thought better of it and decided to simply ask what the pressing problem was that bothered her so.

Pio, you asked to speak with me. I can tell you are unsettled over something. Tell me, what troubles you, and how might I help.

Pio sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘I think I have made the wrong decision,’ she said staring out toward the darkening waters of the bay. ‘And I am so far into it, I cannot see my way clear of it.’

[ November 17, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Idril frowned at the oft recalcitrant Elf, and wondered if this were just another case of resistance to the common standards of behavior come into play. She could sense no hint of stubborn defiance in her attitude this time, though, only a sort of overwhelming sadness.

She drew her chair near Pio, and looked out over the water toward the western sky. The stars had begun to come out, and the moon had risen just enough to catch the curl of the waves with a silvered glow.

‘Let us start from the beginning, Pio. Exactly what do you mean by “wrong decision”?’

Pio laughed ruefully. ‘I should have said “series of wrong decisions”. Starting with my agreeing to return to help on this mission and ending with the ridiculous predicament I find myself in at present – that I am for all intents and purposes wedded to a Man. I would laugh save for the fact that the thought of the sorrow I will cause him brings me near to tears.’

She looked down at her hands, murmuring softly. ‘I should never have allowed him to kiss me. Nor should I have kissed him back. It was ill considered on my part.’

Pio looked back toward the starry darkness, unseeing. ‘I cannot be what he needs. We are nothing alike. There will always be friction between us at some level, and my actions will cause him sorrow again and again. What sort of life will that be for him?’

‘That is an exceedingly morose line of thought.’ Idril frowned, unseen in the darkness. ‘And what exactly did you mean when you said you “cannot see your way clear of it”?’

‘I was considering making a clean break of it . . . running, if you will. Though I do not know where I might go. My friends are all leaving and the West is closed to me. I could stay here with Angara, I suppose, but endless Ages of “I told you so.” do not appeal to me. And, anyway, I am afraid I would be as redundant here as anywhere.’ She yawned, and rubbed her eyes. ‘I am tired; I should go back and get some sleep.’

Idril shook her head in the darkness and called for some food and drink to be brought. ‘Stay here for the night, Pio. We can talk more in the morning. I need to consider what you have said, before I respond to it.’

She watched as the Elf ate some fruit and bread then led her to her cabin and bade her lie down. When she was satisfied that she was sleeping, she rose from her side and stepped into the galley.

Idril grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen and wrote a quick note to Cami and Bird, detailing what Pio had told her. She ended with a plea for them to come talk some sense into their friend. As she bluntly put it:

‘There will be no party and no exchange of rings if the Elf bolts.’

She called for one of the Teleri to deliver it this night to the Star. Then she sat in her chair on the deck and considered what she might say tomorrow.

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami's jaw dropped as she stared at the letter in front of her. It seemed to be genuine enough. It was written in exquisitely tiny runes, with Idril's signature appended at the end.

She'd had one hint the day before that something might be wrong. She'd asked Piosenniel something about the public celebration they'd planned to honor her nuptials. The Elf had turned away grumbling there might not be enough time to do that and still get everything else wrapped up. Time indeed! This sounded more like a case of extremely cold feet.

Cami didn't know what to think about this letter. A small piece of her felt some sympathy for Pio and her uncertainties. But the greater part wanted to go in and shake the Elf until her teeth rattled.

Cami found this whole idea hard to fathom. In the last day, she'd turned down a marriage proposal and decided that she might be eternally bound to a man she could not even be with. Now her friend had the audacity to complain that she would just as soon not go through with the public affirmation, and indeed was sorry she'd ever returned to the Star, or met the Man. And, as far as the children went, the little ones were not even mentioned. The hobbit could forgive many things, but not this. She began to boil over with anger.

Cami glanced over at Gamba who was finally asleep, curled up with the children by his side. Even Rose was no longer awake. Cami hated to leave them after all that had happened that day, but she saw no choice. She scribbled out a note that they should not worry in case she did not return by the morning.

Throwing her cloak over her shoulders, she began her search for Bird all up and down the ship. Bird, however, was nowhere to be found. One time she saw Mithadan pacing back and forth in the corridor. Cami went and hid in a nearby closet until the Man disappeared. He was the last person she wanted to see at this moment.

She left a message tacked up on Bird's cabin door in case the shapechanger returned. A frantic search for Angara turned up nothing, until she remembered that the wyrm was spending the night on the isle as the new guardian of Meneltarma. There was nothing left to do but to crank down the small row boat.

With fierce determination, she rowed the short distance over to the Elven ship which was sitting in shallow waters just a little towards the east. She climbed the side ladder up onto the deck, and immediately marched to Idril's cabin, banging loudly on the door.

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Idril had returned from the galley, and was seated quietly at her desk when she heard the insistent knockicg on the door. She quickly went to answer it. Seeing Cami, Idril nodded to the sleeping form, and asked the hobbit to be less noisy so Piosenniel would be able to sleep.

Cami glared at Idril, "Sleep? You want her to sleep? After I get done with her, she won't sleep for the next ten years. You'd better get her up right away!"

Part of Cami could not believe she was talking this way to Idril about another Elf. She'd always been taught to treat Elves with respect and courtesy. But right now she was too angry to think very much.

Idril smiled and indicated to the hobbit that she should sit down. "Cami, calm down."

The hobbit stood up and glared back, "If you want me to tell her politely that I understand her concerns, then you'd better get someone else. Because frankly I don't understand them at all."

"Cami, you can say anything you want to Piosenniel, but you will listen first to two things I have to say. First, I know Pio. When someone screams at her, it's like putting a red flag in front of a very angry bull. She won't hear a word you're saying. She'll only get angry in return. Say what you must, but if you want her to listen, try not to bludgeon her."

"Second, you and Pio are very different people. The Elf has spent her whole life avoiding commitment. I'm talking about any kind of commitment, whether to a person or to a cause. Habits like that are hard to break. I'm not saying she doesn't need someone to remind her how fortunate she is, or even to scold her a bit. But remember she is her own person with her own experiences. You are not going to turn her into an Elf-sized Cami."

Joint post: Pio, Sharon, Bird

Cami sat on the bed, listening to Idril speak. It was at this moment that Bird burst through the door. ‘What is this?’ she asked angrily, wildly waving the note Cami had left her. ‘What is that fool of an Elf doing now?’

Idril frowned at this loud intrusion and stood between Bird and Pio. Cami rose from her seat and approached her fuming friend. Placing her hand on Bird’s arm to quiet her, she brought her to sit next to her on the edge of the bed.

‘I don’t know what all this means, either, Bird.’ she said in a soft voice. ‘I got the letter from Idril and I couldn’t believe my eyes.’ She sighed and rubbed her forehead. ‘Why can’t things ever move in a straight course for her?’ She looked toward Pio and shook her head.

‘Because she’s Pio.’ replied bird. ‘And a damnable, stiff necked Elf to boot.’ She nodded briefly toward Idril, but did not apologise.

Pio sat up in bed, her face in darkness. ‘You may have the right of it that I am stiff necked, Bird, but I am not deaf. Do not presume to talk to me as if I were not here.’ She turned her face into the light of the small lamp which shone from Idril’s desk, her face drawn, her eyes cloaked in the shadows of her lashes. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked Cami, focusing first on her.

‘To be truthful, Idril suggested that I come. I almost didn’t because I was so angry with you. But you’re too good a friend to desert, even though you’re deficient in common sense.

A snort from Bird punctuated this reply. She leaned in toward Pio, her face close to the Elf’s and looked her deeply in the eyes, seeking some understanding. ‘We are concerned about you Old Friend.’ she said softly. ‘What is wrong?’

‘Leave it to Bird to get straight to the point.’ remarked the Elf. She held the gaze of her dear friend. ‘I suppose Idril has told you both of my maudlin discussion with her this past evening. I would say I wished she had not done so, but perhaps it will be better if we start with that.’ She looked up, taking all three of them in. ‘I believe I have made the wrong decision concerning Mithadan. And I am seeking some way to rectify it – one that will bring him the least sorrow.’

‘The least sorrow!’ Cami choked on these words as she said them. ‘How can you be so arrogant to make those decisions for him.’ She looked up at the ceiling, her cheeks burning with indignation. ‘He loves you, completely from what I can see. He offers you a wonderful gift – love and family. And you wish to throw it away? Why?’ Pio’s face had become a mask of reservation, and Cami reached out to touch her on the arm. ‘Tell us that you do not love him any more and we will leave you alone.’

The Elf was silent. Bird urged her on. ‘Speak to us, Pio. We can’t read your mind. Your actions though make you seem like some shy and hesitant maiden forced to marry by her Papa. Not a woman who has a free choice.’

‘Love Mithadan?’ she spoke quietly, to her two friends. ‘Yes, I love him. And love is not the problem. It is all the actions which surround it, support it, are expected of it that I cannot fathom.’

She looked at Cami. ‘You are right to name me arrogant. I have always relied on myself. That perhaps is what is hardest for me. I cannot see how that will change. This has been an ongoing source of turmoil between us. And though he assures me he does not expect me to surrender to him, I feel the pull toward doing so to make it “easier” between us. If I cannot come to some sort of resolution on this for myself then either I will be lost should I stay with him or I will leave him.’

She rubbed the back of her neck in irritation. ‘It was my thinking that I should leave now, before our course is so entangled that we both choke on it.’

Bird laughed in disbelief. ‘You are going to cut and run? What do you think this is? Some alliance gone wrong with thieving Corsairs in Umbar?’ She paced angrily. ‘You can’t run your life like you did before, Pio. It won’t work. What did you think you would do? Mithadan aside, you set a course now for two others besides yourself. You can’t go tramping the back roads with me any longer.’

The two old friends stood toe to toe, bodies tense, eyes flashing. Then Pio began to giggle and a hysterical sort of laughter seized her as she fell back on the bed. ‘Bye the One!’ shouted the mystified Bird. ‘Are you possessed? Do we need to call Ancalimon over here to wave his stick over you?’ She looked at the prostrate Elf. ‘Or perhaps we should borrow his stick, and Cami and I will beat some sense into you!’

Idril had been silent until now. She stepped forward and said quietly. ‘That is the whole problem is it not, Piosenniel.’

Pio sat up wiping the tears from her eyes, waiting for Idril to continue.

‘Mithadan is too much the leader, as you see him. When you traveled with Bird, it was at her side, and she by yours. You never followed, nor did you see yourself as leading. You worked side by side, in comfortable tandem, did you not?’

Cami and Bird were quiet as they watched Pio consider this. ‘Yes, that was always so, and is.’ she said.

‘But from your expression I read that you do not think this is possible with the Man.’ Idril paused and knelt before Pio, taking both her hands in hers.

‘Think back to when you first teamed with Bird. It was not smooth going from the start. You are both very independent. You had to learn to work together and I should think it took a fair amount of time for you both to come to some agreement on how things should be done. But over time, the yoke of trust and friendship linked the both of you, and your times together ran easy.'

‘Will you not give Mithadan that same chance? It is not necessary to forge the yoke I spoke of all at once, doing so only makes it seem a heavy burden. It should only be a light one, hardly felt, if felt at all. Something comforting and familiar to lean against when needed. Can you not look to your past and bring some counsel for yourself to your present problem?’

Idril sighed as she looked at Pio. ‘You have ever been one to keep your own counsel, Piosenniel. From first I knew you as a small, often willful child, you have always weighed the counsel of others against what your heart told you was true. And if that counsel proved wanting you always followed the designs of your own making. I would only ask that you stay yourself from the urge to solve this problem by running from it, and look deeply within before you make a final decision.’

Pio’s eyes narrowed as she turned Idril’s words over in her mind, considering them from all sides. There was an undercurrent of tension as her two friends awaited her answer.

‘I’ll think on it. On all your words.’ she said softly. ‘But not here. Somewhere more private, I think.’

She went on deck with them, and climbed back down to the skiff which had brought her over. A small breeze filled her sail as she set her course for the Isle. She turned once, saw them standing at the railing, and waved a farewell.

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Mithadan]

As the new day dawned, Mithadan sat in his cabin alone. Piosenniel had not returned to the cabin the night before -- and part of him had not expected her to. When he had waked from unconsciousness just days before and reached out to Piosenniel and touched her hand, he had sensed a flood of emotions. Relief and gladness were among them; gladness that he had roused himself and relief that he lived.

Yet he had also sensed anger, and she had displayed anger that he had concealed his injuries, but this was not the limit of that emotion. For deep within her he had sensed a hint of disappointment with that anger and they were interwoven. She had been ill at ease with him even before the assault on the caverns and had at times even avoided him. At first he had believed, or convinced himself, that she had been preparing herself mentally for the battle, even as he had done himself. But that was not it, and during breakfast, the morning of the assault, when he had seized her hand he felt it --the fear-- it was fear that he might die in the assault but it was tinged just faintly with fear also that he might live. And he understood at last that perhaps he had asked more of her than she could give.

And so, when she had asked him why he had not told of the extent of his injuries while the battle raged in the caverns, he had not answered. He was glad that she had not asked again. But after their first happy embrace upon Ulmo's healing of his wounds, they had been togther rarely -- and he had not been surprised by this nor spoken to her of it on those times when they had seen one another.

The day before, he had spoken with Ancalimon after the choosing of little matters and laughed at simple joys. At that time Ancalimon had returned to him his mother's ring which he had entrusted to the Grey Peddler to give to Pio if he did not survive the battle. He held it now for a moment, then put it down on his desk. Then he drew forth another package from his things. It was the knife Piosenniel had left to him after her "death". He buckled the knife to his belt and lifted the ring, placing it in his pouch.

Then he left his cabin and climbed to the deck. With no further thought, he leaped into the water and swam to shore. Up the beach he walked even unto the slopes of the remainder of Meneltarma. And he began to climb...

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Mithadan]

The ascent up the slope was difficult. Often the Man had to pause and descend to seek another set of hand and foot holds before moving on up the mountain. Then, after much labour, he reached a shelf on the slope which he discovered was the remnant of the path to the summit. He proceeded carefully along the ledge, at times climbing over crumbled portions of the way, until he at last reached the summit. It was flat and slightly depressed like a shallow bowl. He moved inward a bit until he found a rock on which he could sit. He rested there for a moment, catching his breath and taking in the expansive view of the seas surrounding the island.

As Mithadan sat, pondering the many kings and queens who had stood here before him, a voice came from behind him. "Man." Without turning, he responded, "Angara."

"Welcome to my eyrie," said the dragon. "I must remember to crumble that road, lest any of the Hobbrim attempt what you have and injure themselves. You could have found a less foolish way to speak with me if you wished my company."

"I wanted some peace and solitude," replied Mithadan. "I have the need for some quiet thought."

"Do the others know that you have attempted to break your neck this way?" asked the Wyrm. Mithadan did not answer. "I see," continued Angara. "And for how long may I expect your company?" The Man remained silent. The dragon stepped forward to stand beside him and twisted her long neck until she looked into his face. "Well, I go to see to my children for a time. I will return shortly if you would like to speak. If you like, I will bring you back some lunch?"

"Thank you," answered Mithadan simply. The Dragon tilted her head in a serpentine shrug. Then she unfurled her wings and leaped into the air only to disappear over the edge of the sheer drop towards the beach below.

Mithadan pulled up his hood to shade his face from the sun. Then he settled in to ponder the odd course that his life had taken. With a sad expression on his face, he drew out Piosenniel's knife and examined the blade in the bright sun. "Like you," he muttered, "my actions have had two edges..."

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

Pio had reached the southern sea strand and beached the small skiff, pulling it as far onto the sand as she could, tying it off round one of the ragged boulders flung there after the island’s reemergence. She pulled her cloak about her as if to hide and made her way east down the beach to a secluded cove.

As she picked her way along the rocky edges of the water, she thought on what her friends and Idril had said. Cami had named her arrogant and a fool. And perhaps that was so. Bird had called her to account on her actions, making them seem ill advised when looked at from another’s perspective. It was Idril, though, who spoke most to her heart. Idril and her talk of trust and friendship, her gentle plea to give Mithadan the chance to develop these with her.

She simply did not know how to do this, how to allow another person participate as an equal in the process. And it angered her that she did not. Trust and friendship were given rarely by her, and even so there was always a part of her that remained aloof and reserved, a security against the possibility of disappointment. This would surely prove a continual stumbling block could she not see her way through it. But again, ‘How?’ she thought.

A small flock of kirinki startled her as they rose from the beach, a scarlet cloud against the white sands. The suddenness of them shook her from her tangled thoughts and she laughed in delight as their shrill cries chided her for disturbing them. She looked about and saw that she had come to the place where the spiral road had once begun that lead up and round Meneltarma to the northern lip of the once tall mountain’s summit. She recalled with fondness how she had loved to make the trek up to the top when, as Tulë, she had visited Númenor. The view from there had always been so clear and unobstructed, the place so silent and peaceful. Perhaps the climb would settle her thoughts, and the beauty of the place would prompt her to clarity.

It was a more difficult climb this time. The path was rough, strewn with boulders and in great sections had disappeared altogether, causing her to seek with hand and foot what out juttings and cracks in the face of the mountain she could. It was slow going, but satisfying to have only the immediate problems of where to place a hand or move a foot fill her thoughts completely.

It was late morning when she reached the northern summit. She was tired, her muscles protesting against the exertion. Hands on hips, she stood on the rim of the mountain, looking toward the western sea, drinking in its beauty as it sparkled in the sun. When she had caught her breath, she turned and descended a short way to the great flat expanse of the mountain’s top.

There was someone here, already. He was cloaked, his hood pulled up about his face, and she could not make out who it might be, save that he was tall. An Elf, she thought. She was about to leave him to his solitary enjoyment, and make her way back down the mountain, when she saw something flash brightly in his hands as it caught the sun’s light.

Shading her eyes against the sun, she saw it was a knife he held. She frowned at this, and strode quickly to the rock he sat on. His back was to her and he did not see her as she drew up beside him. With a brief plea to Eru Ilúvatar for his indulgence, she spoke aloud to the seated figure.

‘How comes it that you bring a weapon to the mountain top? It has never been the custom to do this.’

He placed the knife on the flat surface of the rock before him and she gasped in recognition of it. He drew back his hood and turned his head to gaze at her, and she took in the cares and sorrows that played across the solemn features of his face.

She ran her hands through her hair, her thoughts as tangled as the windblown curls now tousled by the breeze. She stepped close to him, and reached out to him, taking his hands in her own.

‘Mithadan . . .’

Mithadan's Post:

Mithadan pulled his hands from hers gently, and picked up the dagger as he stood. He looked down at the blade and toyed with it for a moment before looking up again. Despite the care that showed in his eyes, his face was calm and composed. "So, you have found me," he said quietly as he turned the blade over in his hands.

Piosenniel looked at the dagger with a frown. He followed her gaze and, with a humourless laugh, sheathed the blade. "I was not seeking you," she replied. He nodded. "No matter," he said.

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two, and they stood facing one another like scoolchildren uncertain of how to proceed. At length, Mithadan spoke. "You have been in doubt and unhappy, though I know not why, and uncertain of the rightness of your choice to be with me."

Piosenniel gasped. "Who has spoken to you of this," she demanded.

He smiled grimly. "You have," he answered. "You, who taught me to speak without words need ask this?" Piosenniel closed her eyes in sudden grief understanding that Mithadan had perceived her thought. "Know this," he continued. "I would not keep even a bird in a cage, and certainly not you whom I love. To do so would pain me more than would setting you free. If it is your will, I release you from your vows to go and do as you wish."

Her eyes brimmed with tears. "And what is your will in this matter?"

"My will is of no consequence," he responded. "I am not your master. I will not force myself upon you or have you stay with me from some sense of duty or guilt. I will not cage you, just as you could not cage me. If you were to walk before me I might not follow, and if you were to walk behind me I might not lead. I wanted only to have you beside me, together, neither master nor servant. But I have said this before and perhaps it is not enough. If this cannot be..." His voice cracked and he turned away for a moment before facing her again.

"I regret what I have done," he said bitterly. "I regret having lacked the strength to conceal my mind and I regret having drawn you into this. I am sorry, so very sorry. I will trouble you no more." His hand reached for the dagger and fumbled at the sheath.

Her eyes narrowed and, without further thought, she launched herself at him, batting his hand from the blade and knocking him onto his back. She reached for his wrists, seeking to pin him down, but with a twist and a heave, he threw her from him and rolled to his feet.

"Enough!" he cried. "What madness is this?" Mithadan reached to his belt and unbuckled the sheath, letting Piosenniel's knife drop to the ground. "I return this to you. It was your one gift to me and I need it not as a memento. Your memory will live within me all my days without it and though we are no more, I shall treasure the thought of our days together. Would that things could be different. Angara was right." He turned with bowed head and stepped toward the roadway.

[ November 19, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

The now great form of the Wyrm rose up from beneath the summit’s edge, wings outspread, to perch upon the lip of the mountain. She crouched upon the hard stone of the rim, her talons gripping the granite in a steely vise. Her eyes whirled in anger at the figure of the approaching Man. Her head snaked forward, weaving back and forth before him, barring access to the path.

‘Man and Elf!’ Her eyes locked on Pio, for a moment, as she stood by the stone. ‘I might have known you two would mar the peace of this place.’

Mithadan stepped forward, seeking a way around Angara. Her long neck lashed forward, her head striking him in the belly, causing him to stumble back, and fall.

I will say who comes and goes now to this place.

Pio ran forward, her knife now in her hand, to stand between Angara and the Man. ‘Touch him once more and I will sink my sea-blade into you, Dragon!’ Her voice was dangerously quiet, and she danced lightly before Angara’s lowered head, her eyes ever seeking an advantage as the Dragon turned her head to regard the Elf.

Angara laughed, a deep sound of thunder booming over the rocks. Then as lightning her head darted forward and struck Pio soundly on the chest, leaving her to sprawl in the dirt beside Mithadan.

It is an awesome thing to feel the sigh of a great Dragon. She sucked in a deep breath that seemed to draw the mists wreathing the mountain’s top to her, then blew it out again, a sound like wind rushing through the narrows of a steep canyon. All within its path trembled from the force of it, heavy with the feel of sorrow.

You two are fools! The force of her thought echoed in their heads, and for a moment they could not rise.

Pio stood and offered her hand to Mithadan. Grasping it, he hauled himself to his feet to stand beside her. The Dragon fixed them both in her now icy stare.

‘The walls of the mountain, here, near the top, are steep and smooth. They will afford no purchase for your hands and feet should you seek to descend. I am withdrawing now, following what remains of the pathway. I will destroy it as I go, leaving the sides of this peak smooth, my aerie inaccessible. When you have spoken plainly to one another, and have settled matters between you, for ill or good, then call to me and I will come for you.’


Angara left them in the swirling cloud of whirling debris occasioned by her beating wings. The two brushed themselves off as best they might, coughing in the dusty air, and walked back toward the rock. Pio sat down and brought out the skin of water she had thought to bring. She took a swallow then offered it to Mithadan, now sitting next to her.

He put it to his lips for a long drink, then handed it back to her, his eyebrows raised. ‘That was an interesting move you made. To threaten a Dragon with a throwing knife!’

She took the skin from him and sluiced a little over her hands, and washed the dust from her face. ‘It might have worked,’ she said, laughing briefly at herself, ‘had she believed me.’

‘Might have worked? I thought the Elf only dared the actions she was sure of.’ he murmured, staring out toward the sea.

‘Yes, well, perhaps that is how it has been. But of late, and with the stern counsel of friends, I have begun to consider other options.’ She put her hand on his arm, glad when he did not withdraw it. ‘Let me speak clearly now Mithadan, or as clearly as I can my muddled thoughts.’

She could feel the muscles of his arm tense beneath his tunic, noting how his jaw clenched as he waited for her to begin.

‘Angara was not right. But then neither are you on this. I was wrong not to have spoken with you directly. I should not have left you to glean what half thoughts and unfinished reasonings you could from me. A little osanwë can be a dangerous thing when it only furthers misunderstanding.’ She moved her fingers down the length of his arm, and clasped them lightly round his hand, drawing it up to cradle her cheek. ‘You also should have spoken to me. I am sorry you felt you could not do so.’

She opened her mind to him fully. His eyes widened at the depth of her feelings for him. There was no hesitancy or reservation.

You said I was one to dare only the actions I was certain of. In a way that is true. My love for you is a certainty. And yes, still have I been unsure of how to see my self with you. Be patient with me, hold me close with your arms and words, even as I drive you mad. Will you do this for me? Let me dare to walk beside you.

She had laid the knife on the rock next to her when she sat down. Now she picked it up, holding it carefully by the flat of its blade, and extended the hilt toward him.

‘Here,’ she said, in a soft voice. ‘I believe this is yours.’

[ November 19, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's Post:

He took the knife by its hilts and gazed at it thoughtfully. Then his eyes widened and he turned to her. "You didn't think that I... with this...that I would..."

She snorted. "I did not know what to think," she answered. "You were distressed and reached for it, and you were holding it when I arrived."

Mithadan straighted his shoulders. "Life is the gift of the One and none should cast away that gift without great reason or need," he said huffily.

Piosenniel laughed. "Now that is the Mithadan I know; ever riddled by rules and traditions. Though I do not disagree with you," she added hastily as he scowled.

His face softened. He slipped the knife into his pouch and took her hands again. "My fair Piosenniel," he began. "I said, long ago it now seems, that 'I will have you for a day, for a season or for a lifetime, if you will have me.' I have given my word and my heart to you. You have only to take them; they are yours." He lifted his hand to her hair and placed his forehead against hers. "This," he said, "is yours." And he opened his mind to her. When they separated, her eyes shone with tears and her lip seemed to threaten to quiver, so he kissed her, tenderly at first, then with greater urgency.

When they parted he smiled and looked up at the sky. Then he reached down into his pouch and brought forth a gold ring. "You must have something of mine now," he said. He slipped it on her finger and then clasped her hand tightly and there, on Eru's Mount, he repeated again his vows to her. When he had finished, he caressed her face. "Together, Piosenniel," he said. "Together we will face the world."

[ November 19, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

Pio held up her right hand in the bright sunlight. She looked at the slender band of gold on her index finger and grinned. ‘No more lectures from Tuor on the efficacy of traditional symbols to cement a union.’ she thought to herself.

The thought of Tuor and his fatherly admonishment of her before the rescue reminded her of the gift he had pressed on her. She fumbled at the small purse on her belt, her fingers seeking the thin circlet within. ‘Ah! Here it is.’ she said, drawing the slender gold ring out and placing it on the palm of her hand. ‘This is Tuor’s gift to us.’ She drew Mithadan close to her. ‘Look at the markings on the outside of the band. I never noticed them before.’ Seven swan feathers wove round the outer surface in a fine tracery.

She took Mithadan’s right hand in her left and placed the ring securely on his index finger, repeating the blessings she had said with him not all that long ago, calling on Varda, Manwë, and Eru to bless and strengthen their union.

Then she kissed him lightly on the lips, and laughing, smoothed his raven hair, shot with silver, back from his brow. ‘Why do you laugh?’ he asked, drawing her into the circle of his arms.

‘Because,’ she said, laughing once again, ‘it will probably take all three of them to see us safely through this marriage venture!’

He bent his head to her, and stopped her laughter with his kisses, pulling her close in a tight embrace.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

‘We had best go down now, Piosenniel. Our companions will be worrying about us.’ He laughed as he thought about it. ‘Although, Bird, by now, is probably laying bets on who has bested whom.’

‘Or wondering which of my many ways I picked to do you in.’ returned the Elf. ‘And Angara is probably scouring the lower slopes as we speak, looking to see how far down the hillside your poor body bounced when I tossed you over.’

They walked hand in hand toward the rim of the summit. Pio called to the Dragon.

Angara! We are ready to go down now.

[ November 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

if needed

[Mithadan]

Angara appeared over the rim of the mountain mere minutes after she had been summoned. She landed lightly before the two and glared at Mithadan before speaking to Piosenniel. "No blood at least," said the Dragon. "Has the Elf regained her wits yet?"

"Yes, Angara," said Piosenniel with a smile.

"Then may I roast the Man for causing you such grief?" continued the Wyrm.

Mithadan shook his head with a smile. "A Dragon who jests?" he laughed. "Varied indeed are the creations of the One."

"Don't be so sure that she jokes," intoned the Elf. "No, Angara. Can you carry us both to the beach?"

"How disappointing," responded the Dragon. But she allowed the two to mount her and perch behind her sinuous neck before moving to the verge of the mountain and dropping off into the air.

With a rush of wind, they plummeted towards the narrow strand below. Then Angara extended her wings and pulled up to circle briefly before landing. The Man and the Elf dismounted and waved their thanks.

Mithadan paused before walking away. Angara? The Wyrm looked down and responded. Yes, Man? He smiled broadly and patted her now massive forearm. Thank you. Thank you for everything, my friend. The Dragon smiled in a toothsome fashion. You are most welcome Mithadan. It has been...interesting.

Mithadan turned to find Piosenniel standing before Cami, Rose, Bird, Idril, Tuor and Ancalimon. Behind them were many Hobbits and Hobbrim. Cami stood with crossed arms and pursed lips. "Well?" she asked.

Before Piosenniel could respond, Mithadan stepped forward, yawned mightily and answered, "Well what, Lady Goodchild?"

[mark12_30]

As Cami's face slowly reddened, Gamba leaned over to her and whispered none too quietly into her ear, saying, "Go ahead, Mistress Nitir. Whack him."

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami heard Gamba's remark and giggled. It was indeed tempting. There stood the happy couple in front of the assembled crowd. They snuggled close, their heads on each other's shoulders, their hands clasped together. This, she pondered, was unusual public behavior for the Man. Plus, the two of them looked as if nothing whatsoever had happened between them in the last day. How very maddening when she had been sitting up worrying non-stop day and night.

Mithadan was grinning slyly, looking enormously pleased with himself. The whole thing reminded Cami of a scene back in the Shire, when she'd seen a fox run away from the chicken coop with one fine prize in his belly, and the other bulging out of his mouth. That fox had also worn a fine expression on his face as he disappeared around the rear of the henhouse with Cami's dinner in his mouth.

One of the hobbrim children came up to her, asking in a timid voice. "Is it going to be alright, Mistress Cami? Will everything work out?"

"I expect it will, Seabreeze. That is as right as anything can ever be with these two in control."

After hearing Seabreeze's words, Piosenniel arched her eyebrows and walked up to Cami. "Why are all these folk gathered here? Have I missed a party invitation?"

The hobbit shrugged her shoulders, "I expect they want to know what's happened with you two."

Piosenniel struggled for composure and said quietly, "Cami, how did all these people hear there might be a problem between my husband and myself?" As the Elf glanced around, she could see that virtually the entire encampment seemed to be waiting.

Cami shrugged her shoulders again, "I expect I told one or two what happened. And then it kind of spread."

"You mean you were responsible for all this," Piosenniel gestured grandly towards the assembled throng. "That is amazing. And you're such a small hobbit."

She shook her head, "Oh no, I couldn't do all this alone. I think Bird spoke with the wyrm, and Angara was concerned. She warned everyone to be on the lookout for either of you and to let her know immediately if that should happen."

"Did she now?" Piosenniel looked over in Angara's direction.

Cami blurted out, "Don't be angry. Everyone was worried. No one wanted you and Mithadan to make a big mistake."

"I see, you had it all figured out."

Cami nodded in agreement, "Actually, I think we did figure it out before you two did." The hobbit wondered whether her friend was going to yell at her. Getting yelled at by someone twice your size can be quite scary, especially when it's a friend.

At that moment, Piosenniel put her hands on her stomach and doubled over with laughter. She slipped down to the ground, unable to stop her belly roars. Everyone in the crowd--the Man, Cami, Bird, and all those assembled-- began laughing out of sheer relief.

"So do we get it?" Cami interrupted.

"Get what?"

"The Party!" squealed the hobbrim children with glee. "Idril said there was no party if you bolted from the Man."

Piosenniel gave Idril a sly glance out of the corner of her eye. Then she smiled and answered. "A party, of course we'll have a party. We all have a great deal to celebrate!"

[ November 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Mithadan grabbed the Elf's hand, and yawned widely again. He made his excuses to the gathered crowd, saying they were tired from their long climb up the mountain, and hurried her to the skiff, heading for the Star. He waved back at the assembly, the ring on his right hand catching the sun's light. Tuor nudged Idril, who laughed in delight.

Coral and Shell frowned at the retreating pair. 'Hey! Where are they going? We haven't even had supper yet. They can't be tired!' Azraph and Daisy smiled at each other, and stepped forward to take the two little girls by the hand.

'Leave them to their rest, you two.' admonished Daisy. 'We'll see them later.'

'Come!' laughed Azraph, glancing once at Phura. 'We have a party to plan, and you two must think what you would like to do for it.'

Coral looked at Shell, and their little voices piped in unison. 'Fireworks!' they said, eyes gleaming at the prospect. 'Pretty fireworks for Pio!

[ November 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

Phura watched as Daisy, Azraph, Coral and Shell wandered off, conspiring. Azraph shot a backwards glance at Phura, and he nodded, and turned to find Gamba.

He was with Cami. "So they're all right, just like that?" he was saying. "As if nothing had happened."

"Well, they want it to look like nothing had happened, but they know," Cami replied, thoughtfully.

"What do you mean? Of course they know, " Gamba replied.

Cami studied him, and glanced at Phura. "Sometimes after a struggle like that, feelings run deeper. Trust changes. Friendship changes. Hopefully the feelings and the trust and the friendship grow stronger and deeper, and better able to withstand the next storm."

Gamba frowned at Phura, who looked thoughtful.

"You remember, " Cami turned to Phura, "when Azraph was jealous of the attention you gave Daisy because she was new? After you two worked through it, and Azraph understood that you were loyal to herall along, your relationship was stronger afterwards."

Phura nodded, thoughtfully. "But fighting is miserable, " he said.

"Oh, I don't go looking for a fight as a rule, " Cami said hurriedly. "But if one presents itself and I've no choice, it's better to work through it, and regain as much trust and friendship and affection as can be regained."

Gamba studied her, mulling the concept.

Phura realised that Cami was expecting Gamba to need this information not for some romance, but for his relationship with Cami as her adopted son. They would need to learn how to fight, and fight fair, and come out trusting again on the other side.

"I fight sometimes with Loremaster, " Phura said carefully.

"And?" Cami prompted, noting that Gamba was waiting on Phura's response.

Phura grimaced. "I hate it, " he said.

"But do you learn to trust him again?" Cami prompted.

"Always, " Phura replied quietly.

Cami ran hr fingers through Phura's curly brown locks, and he leaned into her hand, and reached up when she was done, and briefly caught her hand. "Thank you for befriending my brother."

"Adopting, you mean," Gamba interrupted.

Cami's eyebrows went up. The word hadn't been used yet in their conversation.

"Well, you have, " Gamba shot back, as a challenge.

Cami replied carefully. "Yes, of course, if that's what you want."

"I'm here, aren't I? I thought that's what you wanted, too. You offered to take me with you."

"And I want to, " Cami replied.

[Birdland]

"A party?" thought Birdie, "Well, what's a party without food, and pretty lights, and music? Especially music. I suppose some of the Elves on the ship might have some instruments, but then, Elves aren't exactly known for the good, foot-stomping music such as these folk love. I doubt that the poor Hobbits got much chance to make music in the caves. They might not have so much as a ratchet amongst them.

Birdie looked around for Kali, and the two put their heads together with the rest of the Hobbrim. Soon they had the children out searching for pretty greenery, while the adults were sent to sea and land to gather whatever fresh food they could find.

"And if you can find any thing that makes a noise, any noise at all, bring it back with you!" shouted Birdie to the departing search parties. Most of the adults looked at her in puzzlement at this, but the children all grinned and cheered as they ran off across the island. The party preparations had begun.

[piosenniel]

Idril sat at her desk, staring at the long list in front of her. She was ticking off items concerning the party, and was having problems moving past the first one. Leave it to Piosenniel to ruin her plans for a public exchange of rings and vows! Could that Elf never do anything the way it was supposed to be done?

Tuor had shaken his head at Idril’s concern, saying only that he was glad it had been done. And as far as he was concerned the summit of Meneltarma seemed a perfectly appropriate place to have Manwë, Varda, and Eru bear witness to the union.

But Idril had her heart set on seeing it done properly. She wanted to stand in stead of Pio’s mother and give the bridegroom his gift, and she wished for Tuor to do the same for the bride. She would have it also that she and Tuor would join the hands of the pair and bless them. And in her wildest imaginings she had already picked out a dress she wanted to see the much too boyish Elf in.

A frown creased her brow at her list of wants. She could already see Pio sighing and politely, but adamantly, refusing to follow through on any of this. She chewed hard on the end of the pen, and tapped it on her teeth.

Perhaps she could approach Mithadan? Or better yet, perhaps Tuor might approach him, and plead for help in keeping his own wife happy. She smiled at this idea, circled it twice, and moved on to the next section of party preparations.

Bird was handling the food needs, the lighting, and the music. She had better check with her on that. Many of the children had begun piling all sorts of noise makers on the large beach where the party would take place – sticks, pots and pans, shells filled with small pebbles and bound together with twine, small hollowed logs with grooves cut across them, spoons. What could Bird be thinking of doing with all these? They would make quite a din and the elves who had promised to bring their flutes would be drowned out.

She wondered what Bird was thinking of for lights. The swanships could be anchored in close to the shore and their elven lamps lit. Those, and perhaps a bonfire at night, maybe one or two torches should be enough.

Ancalimon had already promised her that he would do the fireworks, and Coral and Shell had immediately volunteered to help him. They already had some ideas for some lovely effects, and they had a new helper, Kesha, along with them. He was just as enthused as they were about the art of pyrotechnics and couldn’t wait to be on the production end of it.

Daisy and Azraph had organized the others of their age to do the decoration of the site. Younger Hobbits and Hobbrim lent their eager hands to gathering the materials needed. Fragrant flowers and greenery, and little star shaped shells on ribbons to dangle from the branches of the trees set back from the the beach.

Someone should be asked to do a welcome to the party - she would talk to Cami about that. Then perhaps the actual wedding ceremony should come next, nothing too elaborate about that, just short, sweet, and final! At last, then,, a time for eating and drinking. Her pen flew over the paper as she drew up her plans.

She needed to talk to the Loremaster. Perhaps she could do that when she talked to Cami. He had mentioned he wanted to say a few words of thanksgiving. Come to think of it, Phura had been present when he had spoken to her and has nodded his head ‘yes’ also. Andril, also, should be included in all of this.

Idril wondered when Cami wanted to present the quilt to the man and Elf. She had better work that in somewhere – perhaps at the end, just before the fireworks. She circled it along with the previous two sections to talk to Cami about.

She held up the piece of paper and surveyed the entire plan. It was doable. Day after tomorrow would be best, she thought, looking at the extent of her plan still to be put in place.

The speakers would need a little time to prepare. The musicians would have time to practice. Gandalf and his assistants would have time for some glorious displays. Decorations would be complete. And most important of all, at least to her mind, was that there would be time to get the couple on board with the full, traditional Elven, observance of custom.

She put down her pen, the first two fingers of her right hand now stained black from ink, sat back in her chair, and smiled.

‘Tuor!’ she called sweetly. ‘I have something urgent I need you to do . . .’

[ November 22, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Idril smiled as she glanced over her long list. Detail afer detail slowly fell into place. The check marks were growing in number, as the Elf graciously and efficiently maneuvered all the parties towards their appointed tasks.

This would not only be a celebration for Mithadan and Piosenniel. It would be a day of festivity for those rescued from Numenor, a time to rejoice in their freedom and say thanks to those who'd made this possible.

Idril was talking with Ancalimon and a number of others who'd asked to help with the planning. Cami and Rose, along with Andril and Loremaster, were perched on chairs in a small circle. Phura and his brother sat cross legged on the floor at Idril's feet.

Ancalimon said he'd be happy to give a few words of welcome before the party started. Both Loremaster and Andril wanted a moment to thank the Elves and the crew of the Star for rescuing their people. Phura suggested contacting Bird to see if a singer was needed to help with the music. He'd already put the children to work on tambourines, using the flexible wood of young saplings to make a hoop, with fine leather stretched in between.

"But where did you get the metal discs to tie onto the edge and make a noise?" Rose questioned.

Phura grinned back, "That was the fun part. We had soft copper knives left over from the rescue. It was no trouble to melt them down and mold them into small discs. And it felt great to use knives like that."

Idril made some notes on her list and looked up, "Anyone else? Have we forgotten something?"

Cami thought a moment, and then spoke, "Yes, I'd like a minute or two myself. I've got some folk I need to thank."

Phura and Gamba looked puzzled at Cami's choice of words. "Why would you need to thank anyone? You're one of the rescuers." Gamba seemed genuinely curious.

Cami smiled mysteriously and looked over to Ancalimon, wondering how much she should reveal. "You know from the tale of Nitir and Azra that Numenor was not the first stop for the Star. There were other events, much further back, where a great debt of thanks is owed."

"Andril, you know I'm leaving Idril's day book to you. It records everything that happened on our journey. That book needs to be kept safe on Meneltarma. But there's one thing I can say even now."

"Long ago, I came across a reference to sea-hobbits. More than anything, I wanted to go out and search for them. But I couldn't find anyone to help. Without Piosenniel, and Mith, and Bird, this whole voyage would never have taken place."

"So I'd like a minute to say thanks, and present the journal to Andril. There are still blank pages. Maybe you can use it to record the lore of your people, long after I've sailed away."

A flash of pain showed briefly on several faces in the room, as folk reflected on the separations which were soon to take place. Then Idril smiled sadly and said, "So Cami, you have used my little gift well. It will find a home here so that what the Star has done will never be forgotten. That much I can promise."

[ November 22, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

Save, please.

[piosenniel]

Idril looked fondly at the Hobbit. It had been a long and difficult journey that had brought Cami to this place. A journey that would have overwhelmed many of the bigger folk. ‘We were right,’ thought Idril, ‘to have placed our confidence in her.’ ‘I will miss you, Cami.’ she said aloud, ‘but know that my thoughts will ever turn toward you and the band of brave Hobbits you lead.’

Cami’s cheeks were stained with crimson, and she looked toward the floor, so that the tears which threatened at the corners of her eyes would not be seen. She took a deep breath, recovering herself, then went back to the business at hand. ‘Now that we’ve more or less got things sorted out,’ she said, ‘let’s plan for the party to be the day after tomorrow. It will give us plenty of time . . .’

‘To prepare!’ said Idril, smiling. ‘I would swear you read my mind on that!’ the tension of the previous moment broke, and the laughter of the two women filled the room.

Idril took out another clean sheet of paper intending to make a list for Cami to have, and divided it into four sections. Under ‘CAMI’ was found all the speeches, thank-yous, presentations that were to be done. Cami was to make sure everyone who was making a speech was prepared to give it. ‘BIRD’ held all the party preparations such as decorations, food, music, entertainment. Ancalimon’s name was noted prominently in this last section. ‘IDRIL’ was primarily concerned with the wedding ceremony and all that entailed.

‘What’s this section?’ asked Cami, noting ‘TUOR’ with the single name ‘Mithadan’ written under it. ‘That is something which is hopefully underway right now.' said Idril. 'And proceeding smoothly!’

Cami looked at Idril, and smiled. ‘This is going to go without a hitch isn’t it?’

[ November 24, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Mithadan had left Pio sleeping in the cabin, and had gone to the galley for something to eat and drink. Several minutes of dedicated searching had found enough dried fruit for a light snack, and a small, dusty bottle of unopened red wine. ‘How did we miss this one?’ he wondered to himself, as he uncorked it carefully and decanted it into a clean, wide mouthed bottle. He piled an assortment of fruits on a small plate and taking the bottle and a goblet in the other, he went up on deck.

He sat at the bow, his long legs propped on the railing, and looked out over the sea. To the east, where they would soon be bound. The occasional seabird flew low over the ship, and Mithadan threw small pieces of fruit to them, delighting in their loud insistence on this treat. He sipped at his wine in a contented manner. Affairs in his world were proceeding as they should, he thought to himself. He smiled as he thought of Piosenniel, and how pleasant it seemed to have things smoothed out between them.

He was drawn from his reverie by the sound of a voice hailing him from the opposite side of the ship. ‘Tuor!’ he cried, striding to where he stood in the skiff. ‘Come aboard, of course!’ He stood back as Tuor clambered on deck. ‘Delighted to see you!’ he greeted him.

‘I hope you continue to think so, after I speak to you about Idril and her desires for what she thinks should happen at this upcoming party.’ He sighed and sat down in a chair near Mithadan, who then excused himself to retrieve another goblet. Mithadan poured each of them some wine, and offered some fruit to Tuor. They sat in a companionable silence for some time, looking out over the waters.

‘Perhaps you had just better tell me straight out what it is that Idril wants of me.’ Mithadan said, after several attempts by Tuor to broach the subject. Tuor sat his wine down on the low barrel head between them, and went through Idril’s desires concerning the ceremony, and her hope that Mithadan could talk Piosenniel into agreeing to do all this.

Mithadan frowned and rubbed his forehead. ‘Her request places me in a very uncomfortable position. Can she not work this out with Pio herself? For my part, I will be happy to accommodate Idril. But surely she does not think I can order Pio to comply?’

Pio had come up quietly behind the two, and now put her hand on Mithadan’s shoulder. ‘And what is it you are to order me to comply with?’ she asked, looking from Mithadan to Tuor and back again. She sat on the railing and looked at both of them, noting that Tuor seemed somewhat ill at ease. She laughed, breaking the tension. ‘I see.’ she said, looking closely at Tuor. ‘Tell me, what does Idril want of me?’

She heard him out with a serious face, listening to all he had to say without interruption. Then she knelt before him and took both of his hands in hers. ‘Tell Idril I will do this for her.’ she said, smiling at him. ‘And thank her for wishing to do this for me.’ She kissed him lightly on his cheek. ‘Thank you also, Tuor, for all you have done for us. Tell Idril I will come to her tomorrow, and she can show me what she wishes me to do.’

Tuor took his leave of them, relieved that things had gone so well. Arriving at his ship, he was met by Idril, who asked with some hesitation just how it had gone with Piosenniel.

‘You can cross me off the list, my dear!' he replied, beaming. 'She’s agreed to do what you want!’

[ November 25, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Retreating back to her cabin, Cami rummaged through her storage chest until her fingers touched the large quilt that she had tucked away at the very bottom several weeks before. Its squares were decorated with brightly colored strips of felt and cotton, each depicting a different image that someone had thought important to remember from the voyage. Now that she studied it more closely, she could see a number of things were missing. But there were plenty of blank squares where new pictures could be sewn.

She headed for her table and, like Idril, began jotting down notes for another list. This one had names on it: Ancalimon, Idril, Phura, Gamba, Loremster, Corby, the boys.....with large question marks beside each. They still had one full day to go, so there should be enough time.

Cami took out a pen along with sheets of vellum and began writing a series of notes. By the late afternoon, she had a small pile completed, with each reading like this:

After the exchange of vows, we'll be presenting Piosenniel and Mithadan with a fine quilt to take back to their new home. This will show pictures from our voyage, the Rescue, and Meneltarma. Would you like to help us add to this quilt? Think of the one memory which you'd most like preserved, and let me know what that is. This may be happy or sad. You may do the picture yourself, or just let me know what your idea is. I have a group of hobbit children who've promised to help sew. Please let me know quickly, since the party will be the day after next.

Then, Cami had Rose untie the skiff, which was now kept permanently moored right beside the ship, and sail to the different Elven vessels to deliver the messages to each of the names on her list.

[ November 24, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

The sun rose bright and promising on the day of the celebration. It was now midmorning, and gentle breezes played through the decorations gracing the trees which stood on the hillock to the back of the beach, and ruffled the bright cloths on the tables set in the opening among them. The young Hobbits and Hobbrim had outdone themselves. Colorful streamers beckoned one and all, inviting them in among the greenery and banks of flowers which threw out their sweet and subtle fragrances to the air.

Musicians were practicing their instruments amid the general bustle of Hobbit and Hobbrim who hurried here and there setting up food, drink, and all the plates, utensils, and cups they had scavenged from the ships. Idril smiled, recalling how they had swarmed over the unsuspecting Elves like hummerhorns, intent on securing a prize. It was motley gathering of eating ware which now graced the tables, but somehow appropriate to a quest pieced and patched together during its long course by the ingenious crew of the Lonely Star.

Piecing and patching brought to mind the request she had received from Cami concerning the quilt. She hoped she had gotten her idea in in time to be placed on it. ‘Just like a Hobbit,’ she thought to herself, ‘to make so grand a theme bend to practicality.’

Idril walked to the small rise where Mithadan and Piosenniel would make their public exchange of vows. A small sigh of relief escaped her, recalling how amenable the Elf had been to her plans. And when she had remarked on this, Pio only laughed and said, ‘I have caused you too much grief already, have I not. Let me do this for you, as you for me.’ She had hugged Idril tightly, surprising her, and whispered in her ear. ‘I am glad to have you stand in for my amah, Idril.’ She held Idril at arms’ length, saying, ‘In all probability, I will not see you again once this all is finished. I would have our last time together bring pleasant memories to both of us.’

Earlier that morning, Idril and Tuor had come to the Lonely Star seeking Pio and Mithadan. They were dressed in their Elven finery, as if to punctuate the fact that this was a formal visit on their part. Mithadan had welcomed them aboard graciously, and stood with his arms around Pio as Idril explained that they had come as part of the wedding ceremony.

‘It is our custom,’ she explained, ‘to give the bride and groom gifts before the ceremony. The bride’s mother gives one to the groom, and the groom’s father one to the bride.’

Idril stepped up to Mithadan, who had come to stand at Pio’s side. In her fair hands she held a small, bright green stone, set in silver and hung on a silver chain. ‘An Elfstone.’ she told him, as she placed it round his neck. ‘Elf-friend, I name you, as were the Faithful of old named.’ She smiled at him, her lashes shiny with joyful tears. ‘Take care of our fair Piosenniel, Mithadan. You are more than worthy of her.’ He bowed courteously to her, and thanked her for her gift.

Tuor stepped up to Pio, and smiled at her gently. ‘I know the gift that should be given is one not so dire as this. But it is the one I wished you to have.’ He brought forth a small, silver sheathed dagger on a belt of fine worked silver links and fastened it about her waist. He drew the blade and placed it in her out held palms.

She gasped when she saw it, holding it by the hilt up to the sun. A silvered dagger, set with traceries of white and gold along its blade, patterns of the rising sun and moon interwoven in a repeating motif, and on its pommel was set a deep scarlet, heart shaped stone. White, gold and red – the Moon, Sun and Scarlet Heart of Gondolin.


She resheathed the dagger, and hugged him fiercely for this gracious gift.

Then Idril and Tuor bade them farewell until they saw them later in the day. ‘Do not be late!’ admonished Idril. ‘I will come fetch you myself and take you in hand.’ she warned Pio, seeing an impish gleam dart through her eyes.

Mithadan smiled, and placed his arm round Pio’s shoulders, drawing her close. ‘Have no fear, Idril. We will be there – both of us!’

Amid another chorus of thank-yous and good-byes, Idril and Tuor left the Star to see to last minute preparations. Soon it would be time, the guests would arrive, the speeches and ceremonies given, the grand celebration begun.

[ November 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Amid the colorful streamers and banks of flowers, the guests made their way to the shadowed forest glade. A large gathering of Elves, hobbits, and hobbrim as well as everyone from the Star waited there for the ceremony to begin. Friends and family members were careful to stay close to each other, not wanting to see the day end too soon. For, after this celebration, many would part and go their separate ways.

Then Ancalimon stepped before the hobbits and hobbrim, and gazed intently into their faces. His heart was warmed by what he saw. Many who'd been injured or grieving had found some measure of healing within the shores of the isle. It would be impossible to erase all the sadness of the tombs within a single lifetime. Yet, all around, even in a time so close to sorrow, eyes gleamed bright with hope that tomorrow would bring better things.

Then the Grey Peddler spoke to the gathering, "I can not tell you how proud I am of you today. Because of your choices, this day is one of joy. Your work and your refusal to give in have made a difference. For a single instant, we stood together at the brink and pushed back a tiny sliver of darkness. Soon it will be time for the world to change again, and our paths to part from one another. There will still be choices that need to be made and battles that must be fought. But today we celebrate and gather strength for the road ahead."

"What better way to do this than to watch a man and woman pledge their lives to one another. The path for Mithadan and Piosenniel has not been easy. There were things inside and out that sought to divide them. Yet, they did not give up and, with much help from their companions, now come before us determined to share a single path in life."

Loremaster and Andril walked forward at Gandalf's urging. Each brought good wishes to Mithadan and Piosenniel, and expressed the thanks of their people to the Star, and all who had served under her, whether they hailed from the shores of Middle-earth or the Blessed Lands. For, without the Star, none of the hobbits or hobbrim would have survived.

Finally, it was time for Cami. She stepped to the front of the large crowd, uncertain what to say. The right words seemed to elude her. For a time, she hesitated, then slowly began, "Long ago, I found a note on sea-hobbits in a very old book, and, although I'd never heard of them before, I longed to go searching and see who these cousins were. Yet not a single person would listen to my plea for help. I almost gave up. Then I met Pio and Bird and Mithadan. Without them, none of this could have happened."

"You are true friends to the hobbits and the hobbrim. Thank you for believing in us, and coming so very far to help. As you go your own way in life, may each of you find that which you hold most dear."

"There's just one more thing," Cami beckoned for Andril to come foward again, "Here is the day book that records everything that happened on our voyage. You'll see my hand on one side, and everyone else's comments and notes and pictures on the facing page. Andril, it's for you to finish and keep safe on Meneltarma. I will miss having it near me, but I know the book will be safe here, and all its secrets will be protected."

Cami presented the book to Andril and gave her a hug, then turned back to take her place in the crowd. At that moment, Ancalimon leaned over and whispered a few words in her ear. She flashed him a gentle smile and a thumbs up. Then she stood and waited quietly for the ceremony to begin, clutching tightly at a single sprig of heather she held beneath her heart.

[ November 27, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Pio tugged at the dress Idril had chosen for her to wear. It was tight at the waist and bodice, and she longed for the easy comfort of her breeches and tunic. It was pretty enough. In shades of green that reminded her of a sea wave’s curl as it caught the bright sun. Tuor’s gift was secured round the crest of her hips, and her hand often strayed to it as she waited for the speeches to end, and Idril and Tuor to step forward.

She had never understood this need to make public those things which are private. It was enough for her that she and Mithadan had come to some peaceable resolve on the mountain top and had exchanged rings there. She sighed, wishing this part were over and Idril for once happy with the outcome.

Stop fidgeting, Elf! ‘spoke’ Angara, standing just a short space away, among the Hobbrim children who smiled and waved and pointed at Pio. You look like some child dreading a meeting with the schoolmistress!

And just what would a dragon know of schoolmistresses and wayward children? An image of Cami with a red faced Daisy came from Angara, and Pio laughed out loud at the sight of it.

‘She’s right.’ hissed Bird standing close behind her friend. Be quiet and pay attention. I have arranged for some lovely music here. Don’t spoil it! She reached out and pinched the Elf on the back of her arm, causing her to gasp quietly at the sharp pain.

Mithadan leaned toward her, whispering, ‘Are you quite alright?’ She nodded, her cheekbones bearing a crimson tinge, and stared straight ahead. You will regret that, Bird! she thought, though the tone of it was smiling and impish.

Idril and Tuor had come to stand on the small rise before the assembled company. They bade the couple come toward them as soft music played on Elven flutes filled the air.

‘Wait! Pio!’ cried two piping voices. Coral and Shell, curls flying, ran pellmell down the sand toward her, their hands filled with fragrant, bright yellow flowers. ‘Laurinquë!’ she exclaimed, as they motioned her to bend down, that they might place the wreath of them on her head. She kissed them each on their cheek, and sent them back to stand with Angara, who looked both pleased and horrified that two of her charges had done this. Pio stood, and plucking a single blossom from the wreath, turned and secured it in the eyelet of Mithadan’s shirt. Then they continued toward the awaiting Idril and Tuor.

The ceremony which joined them was a simple one. They stood forth before the company, and as was the Elven custom of old, Idril and Tuor, standing in as the mother of the bride and the father of the bridegroom, joined the hands of the pair, and blessed them. None but the couple caught the solemn words said to bless their union. But they were like to that blessing which the couple had first asked upon themselves and then repeated on Meneltarma. ‘Thrice blessed!’ thought Pio smiling. ‘Perhaps this will indeed endure.’

They had chosen not to remove their gold rings, for this would have been the part of the ceremony where they would have exchanged them. Instead, they simply held aloft their right hands and let the sun glint off them. Thus was the custom fulfilled, and the union recognized which would now join their two houses.

‘Just like the Elves!’ muttered Bird to herself as she realized the ceremony had ended. ‘All prettiness and grace and no substance to it.’ ‘Give us a kiss, at least!’ she cried, shaking her hand tambourine. Others of her ‘band’ took up the hue and cry, clapping hands and calling for a kiss to seal it.

‘It seems we have been prevailed upon, beloved.’ said Mithadan, smiling broadly at the clamoring throng, and then at her. ‘How can we disappoint them?’ He took her by the hand and drew her closely to him in a tight embrace.

Then he kissed her. Well . . . and thoroughly . . .

[ November 25, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Let me up for air!

She laughed and stepped away from him, holding his hand in hers. A wave of children, Hobbit and Hobbrim together, swarmed round the pair, chattering and laughing, and pulling them toward the tables piled high with food and drink at the side of the beach.

‘Ah! Food at last!’ cried Pio in delight, reaching for one of the plates. ‘Not yet!’ said Coral, taking the empty plate from her hands. ‘We have a gift for you first.’

The little ones pushed and pulled them toward a small group of children who stood with something held in their outstretched hands. Shell motioned the other children forward, as both Mithadan and Pio knelt down to receive their gift. ‘What’s this?’ asked the Elf, as she took the folded blanket into her hands.

‘Open it! Open it, Mithadan!’ came the piping voices of the children, their faces beaming.

She gasped as Mithadan stood and held the quilt up. ‘How beautiful!’ she said, her lashes rimmed with tears. ‘We all made it for you!’ crowed Ban. Asta and Roka nudged him in the ribs, and he blushed. ‘With Mistress Nitir’s help, of course.’ Mithadan and she secured the quilt to the low hanging branch of a tree, and stood back to admire it, murmuring softly and pointing at the various images captured on it.

‘Come!’ she said to the children. ‘Tell me what we see here.’

Two of the Hobbit children pushed a mildly protesting Cami to the front. ‘We don’t remember all of it.’ they said solemnly. ‘But here is Mistress Nitir. She remembers . . .’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami came forward smiling. In her left hand, she held aloft a list waving it back and forth. A sudden thought flashed through her mind. She'd compiled endless numbers of lists on their trip--lists of clues and supplies, lists of dead and living hobbits, dozens of lists of things to do--yet this was probably her very last one. She instructed the children to hold it up as she read off her notes, explaining what each square meant. When she finished, the youngsters gently laid the quilt down on the soft grass, and attached the list so others could come and read it:

List of memories

Mithadan: Then Mithadan and the Elven folk stepped forward, and raised a new sail upon the mast. And Lo! the company beheld a glowing 6-pointed star, surrounded by an arc of Elven Blue with star-rays of mithril, and the four compass points surrounding all. The wind filled the sail and the star danced. "The Lonely Star" responded with a leap like a dear. The journey had begun.

Piosenniel: The beauty of the fountain of Ondolinde in the final sad night in Gondolin.

Mithadan and Piosenniel: The couple standing before the assembly publicly exchanging vows.

Bird: A portrait of Gondolin-Under-the-Sea with Levanto, and Birdie/Dolphin, and Kali....and the Sea Cows!

Bird and Lindo: The magical encounter between Lindo and Bird on the isle of Tol Fuin.

Cami: The night of blazing stars and snowflakes when Maura and Nitir stood hand-in-hand on the heights of Tol Fuin, with Bird and Angara hovering overhead.

Cami and her Hobbit Children: Cami standing near Rose, Gamba, and the boys waiting to see the hobbrim transformed under Ulmo's sceptre.

Rose: The dragonback ride of Rose and Cami as they flew back towards the Lonely Star leaving Beleriand behind.

Angara: A double inset: Mithadan giving Angara a bubblebath and a portrayal of the wyrm as the Defender of Meneltarma sitting astride Eru's Mount.

Angara and the Hobbrim Children Angara teaching her hobbrim children on the Star.

Levanto : Piosenniel and Bird frolicking in the waves.

Ancalimon : The triumphant march over the snow from the camps of Morgoth to Tol Fuin with Nitir, Azra, and Maura's family.

Idril: The faces of Holly and her young daughter within the circle of Holly's necklace - a silver chain with a holly leaf pendant.

Khelek: The meeting aboard the Star when Mithadan confided the secret purpose of the mission.

Veritas: The arrival of the Teleri swanships.

Kali: Kali's first glimpse of his hobrim cousins through the storm tossed waves off the coast of Numenor.

Daisy: Kali and Daisy hand-in-hand after the transformation on Meneltarma.

Andril : Nitir presenting Idril's day book to Andril and the hobbrim.

Loremaster: The arrival of Nitir and Azra in the river in the dark.

Gamba: Bird's rescue of Gamba and Azraph in the tombs.

Gamba and Esta: Gamba and Esta swimming out together to see the stars.

Gamba and Rose: Rose taking the arrow for Maura on the banks of the Siril River.

Phura: The transformation by Ulmo; the trip to the abyss.

Phura and Azraph: Azraph's choice to become a hobbrim.

Kesha: Climbing on board the Teleri ship for the first time.

Roka: Levanto's first appearance at the river while Gamba sang and the children played games.

Asta: Sunshine and blue sky after the darkness of the tombs.

Ban: Butterflies on Meneltarma.

Maura: Birdie, the pretty dragon.

Corby: Mika and Kima's final, cinemactic duel at Candlestones the night of the rescue.

Annee: Mithadan and Piosenniel leading the rescue team to liberate the Locks.

[ November 26, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

Bird presented two gifts after the ceremony. She had searched the waters far and wide around the sunken island, and with the help of Levanto had found in an old shipwreck a pair of matched loving cups, encrusted with jewels set in a deep red gold. They could have been fit for the halls of Gondolin themselves.

The other gift was to the Hobbrims. With the permission of Levanto. Bird had released the sea-cows back into the waters around the island. They both thought that the "herd" would give the Hobbrims a good start, and give them some familiar nourishment until they discovered the rich bounty of their ocean home. Soon the Hobbrim children were all petting Bubbles, Blossom, and Buttercup, and offering rides to the bolder Hobbit children. The sea-cows seemed very happy with their new home.

With a flourish of their instruments, the Elven musicians started the celebration of the marriage of Piosenniel and Mithadan. Birdie was delighted to hear that the Elves were capable of more than soft, melancholy dirges based on long-ago memories, and soon their lively airs had the feet of everyone on the island moving along.

But the Hobbits and Hobbrims were adding their own melodies as well. The children had brought back a varied selection of natural materials, and soon Bird and Kali had helped them construct log drums, rattles made of strung-together shells, and slap sticks made from the branches of the elderberry tree.

Bird had also constructed a "bullroarer" from some rope and a piece of flotsam, and Gamba was soon whirling it over his head and making the most astounding varieties of noises. Kali had brought a conch shell, of course, and with his cheek puffing, was blowing a a low, thumping rhythm that would not be duplicated on Middle-earth until the 7th age invention of the tuba. And Bird was blowing a trilling counter-melody on a simple 5-hole wood flute, intertwining her sound with the silver pipes of the Elves.

Then, amidst the music, The Grey Peddler sent a stream of fiery stars and flowers into the air, to the delight of everyone. And so everyone on the island, (even Angara) was dancing upon the sands, lit by the stars, the candles, and the falling colors of the Wizard's craft.

Pio and Mith, of course, stayed for as long as courtesy demanded, then quietly retreated to the "Lonely Star" for their own celebration. But the rest of the revelers could still be faintly heard on the ship, rejoicing until the sun rose again.

[ November 26, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As dawn broke over the horizon, only a few revelers could be seen tottering back in the direction of the hobbrim caves or towards the Elven ships. Two of the skiffs had been commissioned to ferry the partygoers back and forth across the small bay. One was just pulling out on its last trip. A handful of hobbit families had keeled over on the beach and fallen asleep on the white sands, each sprawled on top of the next, too tired to venture any further.

Other than that, only a few brave souls remained on shore trying to clear off tables and pick up debris. Gamba had a large burlap sack, and was wandering about the party site, haphazardly spearing garbage with a fishing harpoon and stuffing it into the bag. Cami was sorting through Pio and Mith's presents on one of the tables, stacking them in piles for one of the Elves to carry back to the Star. There were amazing gifts that grateful families had found or made with loving hands as a way of thanking the man and the Elf for leading the rescue in the tombs.

Gamba's four boys had not returned to the Star, but were sleeping by the edge of the beach, holding tight to one another. Rose had laid down near them, and also slept. She still was not completely healed from her wound. Gamba went over and covered them all with a large tarp he'd found from one of the tables.

Wearied from the long night, the last two hobbits still struggling to stay awake slid down onto one of the benches to rest a minute and catch their breath. Gamba had spent the night singing and dancing with friends and kin, acting as silly as any teener can act. But now he sat quietly, staring out to sea. The happiness of the party slipped away, as the boy fixed sad eyes on the distant horizon. Even Cami seemed subdued.

"It's hard, isn't it?" Cami broke into Gamba's thoughts. "Everyone thinks you should be over it, because it's been a few weeks. And they don't understand how you can be laughing and playing one minute, and then grieving and fussing the next."

Gamba sighed, not even questioning Cami's insights or her decision to bring up the topic. "It's the good times that are the hardest. I don't know why."

"When Pio said her vows, all I could think of was Esta. How we'd never stand together like that."

"I'm so happy to be here and alive. I just don't understand why she's not here too."

Cami looked away, and said nothing.

"Are you going to ask me to stop thinking about it? Some of my friends have suggested that."

Cami shook her head. "No. I think you should talk to someone who's willing to listen. Bottling things up won't get you anywhere. It only builds up and explodes."

"What would you know about that?"

Cami shook her head and laughed, "Plenty, I'm afraid. When I look back on everything, I think that was one of the hardest things about leaving Maura. There was no one to talk to. Rose was too young. I don't mean her actual age. It's just that she'd never gone through anything like that. And none of the others from the Star were there. I didn't feel I could say anything, not to Pio or Bird or Mith. They were my close friends, but there was always this one hole between us."

"So what did you do?"

"I found someone to listen, someone who let me vent when I was upset. Someone who had been there and who understood things a little."

"Ancalimon?" the boy asked.

Cami shook her head. "I saw great sadness and death in Ladros that I'll never forget, but nothing so hateful as what happened to Esta. You never get over that completely, no matter what people say. It changes you. But you do learn to live with it, and go on."

"I'm trying, I'm really trying." the boy replied.

"I know you are. I just want you to understand that I'm here if you need to talk, and if you don't want to, that's alright too."

The boy hesitated and asked. "Was it hard for you? When you left Maura. The songs are so sad. I never really understood them. At least not till I knew you."

She looked over at him. "I'm not like Pio, or even Bird. Maybe I wish I was, but I've never been good at seizing things and making them my own. Before this voyage, I spent a lot of time waiting and hoping. Things didn't happen very fast. And when they did happen on this journey, everything came and went so quickly. Too quickly."

"That's why you and Rose and the boys are so important. I refuse to sit and wait anymore. I can't have Maura, and I don't know what's going to happen. But at least I can stop waiting and start doing something that has some meaning for me."

Abruptly, Gamba threw his arms around Cami and buried his head in her shoulder, "I'm really sorry you couldn't stay there. I know you wanted to. But I'm glad you're here. I don't want you to leave."

"Who said anyone's leaving? Certainly not me. Not when I've found the folk I want to spend my life with." She kissed Gamba swiftly on the curls, and guided him over to lie down on the sands next to his children. She herself snuggled down beside Rose and almost instantly fell asleep, oblivious to the sun that had just crept up over the horizon to herald the arrival of a new day.

---------------------------------------------
Helen's Post:

Phura and Azraph surfaced a few scant feet from shore. Kesha popped up by Phura.

Phura and Kesha looked at the beach, as the sun rose. Kesha pointed to a tarp, and got out of the water and went to look at it. He lifted the corner, and suddenly waved to Phura and Azraph. They came to see.

Gamba and his four boys were sound asleep, and not too far away, Nitir and Azra were there too.

Phura sighed, and Azraph took his hand. "I miss them so, " Phura said, lifting Azraph's hand to his lips.

Azraph nodded. "I know we need to get some more sleep. But do we have to go back to the caves?"

"You could sleep near Nitir and Azra, " Phura realized, brightening. Azraph smiled, thinking back to several nights in the caves with Nitir and Azra, and then a mix of emotions crossed her face. She especially missed her sister, and mother too. But her whole family had returned to the ships.

"We'll be too clammy cold, and they'll complain, " Kesha objected.

"True, but we needn't snuggle right up to them; we can just sleep nearby. Come on." Phura found a corner of the tarp near Nitir and Azra, and Azraph climbed underneath it, and Phura tucked her in. Then he and Kesha went around near Gamba, and climbed under a corner of the tarp there.

But he did not sleep much. He lay awake, as he had done so many times in the Study, listening to Gamba twitch and mutter in his dreams. More than once, he heard Gamba calling Esta's name. It was such a lonely sound, that Phura sat up and made sure that Azraph was safe nearby several times before the sun was high.

[ November 27, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ November 27, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

The sun was just barely peeking over the eastern rim of the sea, when she nudged his shoulder, saying, ‘Mithadan! Wake up!’ The inviting odor of sweet tea mingled with that of the fresh smell of the sea breeze as it blew softly through the open porthole. He sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning.

Beside him sat Pio, a tray on her crossed legs. She was pouring him a mug of tea and offered him a small plate of fruits and bread, spread thick with honey, and a hard-boiled seabird egg. He smiled at her and sipped the hot tea. ‘Why are you up so early?’ he asked, reaching for a slice of bread.

She pulled a map off the small table beside the bed, holding it up for him to see. ‘We need to start thinking about sending some of the Telerin ships back and about getting the Hobbits to the Third Age Anduin. It is Cami’s wish that we leave soon. By tomorrow if possible.’ He leaned forward, licking the honey from his fingers, and took the map from her.

‘I was looking at this last night,’ she continued, ‘as you were sleeping. We are approximately here.’ Her finger pointed to an empty place in the western portion of the Bent Seas and traced a route east toward the entrance to the mouths of the Anduin. ‘Once we enter the river, we can go up as far as Rauros Falls, and then the Hobbits will have to go from there by foot.’

‘We will need only fifteen ships to transport the Hobbits.’ he said, doing a quick mental calculation. ‘There will be you and I and Bird. Cami and the Hobbits. Kali to take back the time crystal. Khelek and Veritas. Have I missed anyone?’

‘Levanto!’ she laughed. ‘And I know Daisy will want to come also. Khelek and Veritas will not return with us.’ He frowned at her, saying, ‘Surely they are not thinking of staying on Meneltarma.’ ‘No, I have spoken with Idril,’ said Pio, ‘and she has agreed to take them with her into the West. They have grown weary of this world, and wish to return over the Seas.’

‘I am going now to speak with the Teleri,’ she continued, ‘to make the final arrangements for the ships. Tuor’s ship and the six others which will return with him will leave the same morning as do we. Will you see to the Lonely Star, that she is made ready for the voyage? Cami will make arrangements with the Hobbits.’ She paused for a moment, thinking. ‘Perhaps she should also make arrangements for Kali and Daisy. I am thinking there will be some sort of problem with them being unsupervised when they sail back in the skiff. Some Hobbit custom as I recall.’

She stood, and gave him a fond kiss on the cheek before she left. ‘I will see you later, for lunch perhaps. Let me get these details straightened out and you yours.’

[ November 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Her first destination was Tuor’s ship. She told him that they would need only fourteen ships to accompany them up the Anduin. He advised her that he would speak with the captains, and all would be ready by tomorrow. Idril had gone ashore for the day, and Pio followed after her, wanting to thank her one last time for all her effort on behalf of the companions.

She found her walking in the glade above the beach, taking in the sights and scents of what once had been Númenor. ‘Lovely, is it not?’ asked Pio. ‘What once was a fair gift to Men.’ Idril nodded, and Pio could read in her mind that she thought of all that might have been, had not Men’s hearts turned toward the shadow. ‘Still,’ she said to Idril, ‘This will bring a hidden hope when the world most needs it, and for that I am grateful.’

They walked long in Númenor, their graceful arms about each other’s waists, smoothing out those things which had once been rough between them. They made the peace which now would link them in harmony, for on the morrow the memory of it would be all that each would ever have again of the other. After some time, they parted and Idril returned to her ship.

[ November 27, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Pio continued her walk about Tol Meneltarma, looking often toward the summit. She approached the side of the mountain where once the path had climbed in a spiral from southern foot to northern lip. But it was no longer to be found. Angara had done a thorough job of crumbling it, and she could see no hand or footholds that she might use to reach the top.

A sudden shadow fell across the sun, and a great voice called to her.

Do you wish to come up?

Shading her eyes against the sun, now revealed as the massive body of the Wyrm flew past it, she watched as Angara dropped swiftly down the mountainside and glided far out across the waters. The Dragon banked in her flight at the outer limit of the bay, turning smoothly to return to the island. She circled the beach a few times and then dropped gracefully down to the warm sands.

Pio’s eyes sparkled as she watched her old friend. How dramatic! You begin to relish your role here, I see.

She ran toward the waiting Dragon, laughing as Angara bowed to her and bade her climb up on her shoulders. She could feel the mighty muscles as the Dragon beat them in a rhythmic pattern, her massive bulk rising easily from the ground. A few short moments and they had reached the summit. Pio climbed down easily and walked a short distance onto the surface of the plateau.

Angara watched her, in an indulgent manner, settling down on a ledge on the lip of the rim. It was silent, as it had always been, though now the faint sound of the waves as they rushed in upon the shore far below could at times be heard. Still, there were no birds which dared come here, as it had been so since the beginnings of Númenor. It was a place for quiet thoughts and for the remembrance of the graciousness of Eru Ilúvatar.

The Elf turned toward the West, offering a prayer that all might go well here now. That Light be ever present, and the Music weave its harmonies throughout. That Shadow and discord be held back until the Doom of those who now lived here called them into service against the darkness.

Look! cried Angara in her thoughts. They have come to witness what you ask.

It seemed as if the shapes of three great birds wheeled about the sky above her, then falling swiftly, disappeared beneath the western rim of the plateau. She bowed her head as they passed, sending a simple ‘thank-you’ to follow in their wake.

The two old friends sat in companionable silence for a while, letting the sun’s heat ward off the chill of the occasional breeze. Angara’s question broke their easy silence.

Why have you come, Elf?

To say fare well to you, Old One. We will not meet again within the circles of this world.

That is so, Piosenniel. And yet it brings me no measure of sadness that we part. We have come through together what was put before us, and now are we called to go forward to new paths and different tasks. We have done well, Elf. And it seems to me as if we will do so again.

Still, I would see you well and happy in your life here if I could. Pio smiled. Though I think that I will have enough in this new life to keep me well content – as will you. She looked up at Angara’s whirling, golden eyes, her own eyes glimmering. Let us agree to think of each other fondly when life goes well for us, and when it does not, call on the strength of our remembered friendship to pull us through.

So be it, Elf! The Dragon bowed her head to her. Come! Let me take you below now. It grows cold, and I would not have you chilled.

They dropped swiftly below the mountain’s rim, down to the beach once more. A swarm of Hobbrim children came rushing up to Angara, pleading for her to play just one game with them. Pio waved her off toward the clamoring little ones, and watched her as she played a game of hide and seek with them. The dragon pretending she could not find them, and the children pretending they could not see her when she tried to hide.

‘Someday I will play that game with my children, and I will remember fondly how Angara played it with hers.’

She waved farewell to the Dragon, but it went unseen in the busyness of the game. Pio turned from that pleasant scene, and went seeking Cami.

[ November 27, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had finally awoken and managed to rouse her stiff limbs from the ground. All of the younger ones had already run off to start their day. She was surprised to find Andril standing nearby, waiting on her to get up. They seemed anxious to settle several problems about the Star's voyage to the Anduin.

"Kali came to see me for a favor." Andril explained. "He'll be going with Daisy on the Star. They'll be sailing with the hobbits to the Anduin in the Third Age and will then make the leap with the ship into the Fourth Age so Mith and Pio and Bird can get home. Mithadan will attach the time crystal to one of the skiffs, and then Kali and Daisy will head back to Meneltarma in the Second Age."

Cami responded, "That sounds fine. What can I do to help?"

"Actually, we're wondering if you wouldn't mind a few more passengers? Phura and Azraph would like to come along to say goodbye to Gamba. Plus, I'd like to make the trip as well. Idril's daybook isn't really finished until we record the tale of the hobbit landing in the Third Age. And it would certainly be easier to record if I managed to see it in person."

"Plus, there's the girls. Azraph and Daisy. Normally they'd be with their families, of course. Loremaster and I have agreed to keep an eye on them, and..."

Cami halted Andril's explanation and smiled slyly. Second Age or Fourth Age, some things about hobbits never changed, or at least not much. She suspected that the girls would be resourceful enough to manage on their own, but there was also how folk looked at things. "You don't have to say anything else. Of course, you may all go. I'll check with Pio or Mith, but I doubt there'd be any problem. "

"But remember that you won't have to do too much looking after Azraph. Her parents are going to the Anduin as well, and I suspect they'd welcome a chance to be with her on the ship. When I talk with Piosenniel, I'll ask her to make sure that they're also assigned to the Star."

[ November 27, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

It was Cami who first found Pio. The Elf had given up on finding the Hobbit and thought to take one of the skiffs back to the Star. She was hungry and thirsty, and she wished just to sit and speak of pleasant matters with someone who was not going to disappear from her life tomorrow. The thought of her belovéd’s face brought a smile to hers, and she hurried to push the craft into the deeper water along the beach and be off.

‘Wait!’ she heard, and turning her head saw Cami running toward her and waving wildly. She dragged the small skiff part way up on the sand, and walked toward her friend.

Pio said that she had been looking for Cami, to ask her to get the Hobbits ready to go by tomorrow – and would she please speak to Kali and Daisy and see if both of them were now coming. Cami laughed, and said that not only would she speak to those two, but to Phura and Azraph, as well as Andril.

‘Andril? Is she coming also?’ Then understanding dawned on Pio, and she laughed. ‘Of course! They will need an attendant adult! Someone to guarantee that proper conduct is maintained.’ She thought for a moment, her brow slightly furrowed. ‘Let’s put them all on the Star, together. That way everyone can keep an eye on them.’

She went on to tell Cami how many ships would be taking the Hobbits, telling her that the remainder would be going West with Idril and Tuor when the others left in the morning bound for the Anduin. Could Cami please take on the responsibility of parceling out the Hobbits to the remaining ships, including the Star.

Cami agreed and told Pio she would see her later on the ship, but that now she had something urgent to do.

‘I have not heard you mention Ancalimon.’ asked Pio as Cami made to go off on other errands. ‘Which ship do you think he might like to travel on?’

‘That is one of my errands,’ said Cami, ‘to say farewell to both him and the Loremaster.’ Pio frowned at this statement. ‘So, he is not coming back with you - will not accompany you and the Hobbits on your long journey?’

‘No, he will not be with us this time, but later will he come to help us as we have need of him. He is going back to Aman, at least for a while. There is more he wishes to learn there, before he comes back to Middle-earth.’

Then Cami took her leave, once again, of Pio and went looking for Loremaster and Ancalimon, to say her good-byes to them. The Elf returned to the Star. ‘One more farewell I must make.’ she murmured to herself, thinking of the kindly wizard who had helped to engineer her return as Tulë.

[ November 27, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had not found either Loremaster or Ancalimon, but had left messages for them to drop by to see her on the Star. Now she was working on the lower deck of the ship pulling together some of the things the hobbits would need for their journey. She'd been at this off and on for several days, and was putting the finishing touches on the project. The old tank for the sea-cows was empty. Instead, there were piles of goods and foodstuffs stacked in neat rows, as well as a stray goat or two tottering about that the children had managed to corral to take with them to the Third Age.

Gamba and Rose had been helping, but both had now disappeared. The boy had gone to Meneltarma to say goodbye to Kesha, and Rose was off somewhere with Anee. In the past few days, Rose had come to realize that Kali and Daisy were no longer to be part of her daily life, and had increasingly turned to Anee for friendship and support. Cami was grateful that the Fallohide girl and her family had chosen to remain hobbits and were sailing with them to the Anduin. Both girls seemed to have a genuine interest in herbs and healing that Cami hoped to encourage.

As far as supplies went, Cami was taking no chances. She had asked the Teleri in each of the swanships to put together a large store of preserved foodstuffs and other necessities that would be unloaded once they reached their destination. Then each of the families would select what they most needed for the trip overland to start a new life.

Ropes, weapons, cooking gear, tinder boxes, tools, fishing lines, heavy winter cloaks, even boots for the Stoors....Cami ticked off the items in her head that stood before her. Loremaster had seen her note and come down to help organize things. It was the first time they'd been together since the day before the choosing when he'd suggested she stay on Meneltarma.

Cami had been afraid there might be some tension left from that, but Loremaster had been careful not to allude to their earlier conversation. He had concentrated on the preparations at hand and asked questions to make sure she and the boy would be alright once the Star reached the Anduin.

"You are happy with your own choice?" Cami asked towards the end of the afternoon.

"Yes, I'm well content. The Sea holds amazing wonders. I will have no trouble keeping busy and productive. I'm hoping to set down some of the hobbit history from Beleriand and Tol Fuin, as well as the Tombs, so those things aren't forgotten."

Cami smiled sadly. It pleased her to think that somewhere, far away, her cousins would remember the tales of Maura and Nitir and Lindo, and pass them on to their children, along with the exploits of the Star that were aready outlined in the pages of Idril's daybook. Out loud, she simply said, "I wish I could read those. We've been together all these weeks, yet I've never sat down with you or Andril to find out more about our past. Now we're parting, and there's no more time."

Loremaster darted nervous eyes back towards Cami, "I shall miss you. You're very different than anyone I've met. Very special. I'll not forget that."

He quickly changed the subject. "Will you go by Cami or Nitir in the Anduin? Some seem to call you one name, and some another."

Cami laughed, "I expect Azra and I will carry two names all our days. But at least the other hobbits have stopped treating me as if I was a legend to be preserved inside a glass ball. The other day, Mika and I disagreed about something. He stood his ground and didn't give in. I'd rather not lose an argument, but at least he could fight back, and treat me like a real person."

She looked shyly over at Loremaster and confided, "Where I came from, before all this, I wasn't anything special. Only a poor girl of mixed Harfoot and Fallohide origin who tended other folks' children and taught them their letters. Thinking of myself as a 'wise-woman' has taken a lot of stretching. I'm still learning how to do that."

Loremaster listened to the woman, then fumbled with a small packet tucked away in his robes and held it out to the woman, "I have something for you."

She smiled sadly and took it, "But I have no mathom for you."

Loremaster shook his head, "It's not needed. I owe you a debt nothing can repay. And I take away memories of a kind woman with just a little stubborn streak."

Cami smiled and took the packet, stripping off its wrappings. It was a small day book, one he'd probably saved from the tombs. Its pages were blank and clean, but with Loremaster's name written on the front cover along with a greeting.

"I know you'll be busy where you're going. But will you do something for me? Use this book to write down the hobbit tales that will come after the time we go our separate ways."

Cami reflected a moment. She'd thought her remembering and recording days were gone forever. But perhaps, this was not a bad idea. Whatever she wrote of the early history on the Anduin could be safely given to the Elves of Rivendell at the end of her journies, to be stored there for permanent safekeeping.

"Thank you, I'll try to do that. Only I'll not say anything about how we came to the banks of the river, or the hobbrim and their appointed task."

"Nitir, there's one more thing, before you go. It's about Gamba. I'm going to miss him terribly, more than I ever realized."

Loremaster sighed, "For so long, I kept trying to pound Gamba into shape, to force him to be something different. All my hopes rested on Phura because he naturally loved the things I loved. I think Gamba knew that, and found it hard."

"But, now, I've seen the two of you together. Nitir, he blossoms with you. Gamba has strengths of his own that I never imagined. So, I wanted to say thanks for that. And, to let you know, you've taught me a lesson I hope I'll never forget."

Loremaster gave her a hug, and said in a husky voice. "Good luck to you, wherever your travels take you."

"And to you." Cami found tears stuggling down her cheeks. "I only wish there could be a magic portal between our peoples. We had so little time."

Then Loremaster turned to leave and left the hobbit to her more practical chores.

---------------------------------------------

Cami went up to her cabin and began sorting through her personal belongings, setting aside those special things that she wanted to take along. She got out a heavy backpack and slung a few items inside. The small collection of shells and stones she'd picked up on the journey, a few items of clothing, sheets of vellum and pens, a slate for children to learn their letters, her mother's brooch and a note from her father, a wooden recorder that came from Kali, the new journal from Loremaster with Maura's fragile sprig of dried heather tucked inside, a map of the Anduin from Mithadan, the mirror Pio had insisted she keep, and a large conch shell she'd gotten from Bird to make music at the party.

She smiled at her choices. Perhaps not too practical, but these things were like a roadmap of the journey she'd just completed. She also needed some necesssities, but these would come from the common pile of supplies they'd distribute near the Falls.

Just one more thing to remember. She loaded Idril's herbs and the handwritten notes she'd copied from the Elf's manual into a separate satchel to slip around her body. She planned to wear Maura's green stone about her neck, two hunting knives at her waist, and a bow and quiver slung onto her back over a tough leather jerkin that Ancalimon had given her to ward off arrows.

Cami stared into her mirror and burst out laughing. She looked nothing like the prim nanny from Gondor who'd first stepped onto the Star. If anything, she seemed to be one of those wild Fallohide lasses going off on mad adventures that she'd first heard about whenever Gandalf came to Bilbo's house and recited his tales. At the thought of Gandalf and his tales, Cami smiled.

Almost on cue, the door to her cabin was pushed ajar as Ancalimon smiled a greeting and asked to come inside. "You're ready," he said, pointing towards the satchels that lay waiting on the table.

"Almost. I knew it won't take very long to reach the Anduin with the time crystal, so I wanted to have everything ready. I was the one pushing Pio and Mith to leave tomorrow morning. I've had enough sitting around waiting."

"But you're returning to the West," Cami added, looking at him sadly and wishing that he was sailing again on the Star.

"For a while, yes. The fall of Numenor, as tragic as it was, has given us a moment to rest. I don't expect that will continue too long. We'll need to watch things carefully."

"You once said you'd look in on us sometime. Will you still be able to do that?"

He nodded. "One way or another. I've been checking on your people for many years, even before their travels to the West with Beor. I can't imagine that will stop. Especially now. Things aren't settled yet." He frowned, and looked out the porthole in the direction of the East.

Cami wished she could learn something of those more distant days when her people had first awoken, but she'd need to leave that tale to another. Her road clearly led to the Anduin.

"Can you tell me what the hobbits should do, or where we should go after the landing?" Her voice sounded uncertain.

"Cami, you and Rose have a simple task. Keep your people together as long as you can. If hobbits must wander off, keep them within the upper vales of the Anduin, between the Misty Mountains and the eastern border of Greenwood. No further apart than that."

The peddler went on to explain. "You must win them a little time to learn some things they'll need to survive. Only then, will the three clans be ready to split apart, and go their separate paths."

Cami interrupted. "But the history that I know..." she blurted out the words and then abruptly stopped. Nienna had told her not to discuss that with anyone, not even the messenger who would come from her own household.

"The recorded history that you know begins with the year 1050 of the Third Age, when the hobbits went off in three different directions. I'm aware of that much. But Manwe has stipulated that you and your people are to be dropped off some fifty years before that date."

"There must be a reason for that," she mused.

"Yes, there must be a reason, and you will need to figure that out on your own. But I'm sure of one thing. The hobbits spent over sixty years in prison, and, before that, thousands of years on a secluded isle. They've always been by themselves. Now, they must learn something about the other free peoples of Middle-earth. That won't be easy. Hobbits have a way of looking inward, and forgetting that others exist. There are also skills they'll need to master if they're going to survive."

"So this fifty-year window will be a time for Stoor, Fallohide, and Harfoot to stand together, before the years of wandering begin? To learn how to farm and hunt and fish, and live in a simple way." The simplicity and rightness of that idea struck her with force.

"Yes," Ancalimon nodded. "The hobbrim must learn to love the Sea, but your kin must develop that same feeling about the land. They must live quietly to escape the notice of the great, and leave the path of war to others as much as possible."

"But how will we meet or learn about the other free peoples of Middle-earth? It's true that most hobbits think their homes and families are the center of the world, and pay little attention to others. But, truthfully, most of those folk pay little heed to us. And, when they do, some have a hard time seeing us as anything other than children. So how are we to meet and learn about these other free folk?"

"I'll make sure there is a group of friends to greet you, and guide you northward once you reach the Anduin. They will teach you many things."

The meaning of Ancalimon's words seemed evident. Friends? Northward? Cami's eyes glowed with excitement. "Then we'll be going to Rivendell. Will Master Elrond send someone to lead us?"

At that point, Ancalimon stared at Cami with some exasperation. "Woman, use your head. I've just told you the hobbits must learn to love the land and to live in a simple way, far from the halls of war or power."

"Rivendell is a center of lore and counsel, a place for books and poetry and great Elven arts. I know you love these things, but that isn't what your people need."

Cami's face fell as she considered this.

Ancalimon added, "I have no doubt that, living in the area, you personally will manage to find your way to Rivendell, and spend some time there at the end of your journies. But that stands years away. Right now, the worst thing you could do is to desert your people and run off to Rivendell because you want to chase after books."

He fixed on her sternly. "Cami, there is a reason why you were asked to take up this task, and not Phura or Loremaster or even Andril. I am counting on your common sense. If we'd needed a great bard, someone else would have been chosen."

She nodded yes, and promised that she'd keep her goals clear and simple.

"Good, that's what the hobbits need." Then, he threw her a teasing look. "These friends will be waiting for you when you come ashore. I will make sure of that."

"But who are they?" she pleaded.

"No, we've talked enough for now. You'll have to wait." She looked at him stubbornly, but could see he was equally determined to say nothing further on this subject.

"One more thing, when you see me next, I may go by another name or look differently, but you should still recognize me."

Cami shook her head, "At least I didn't foul up there. I've read Elven history, and was able to patch things together. I figured that out some time ago. But I did have a question. When I meet you as Mithrandir or whatever name you go by, how much will I remember of our past, of the history of the hobbits, and the things that happened on this voyage?"

"You will keep all the knowledge of your past, including your friends on the Star and what you did together. You will remember everything about Beleriand and the tombs and even Sauron and the hobbrim. You may share this with Gamba or Rose, as they grow older, but othewise keep it secret, as it is not something that will be useful to the hobbits as a whole. But this history will help you, and later Gamba and Rose, to make decisions about what your people should do."

"The part that will be lost," he went on, "will be some of your memories of the future. You will recall your family and friends and even the teacher you speak so warmly of, but none of the history that surrounds them. If you had kept that knowledge, you would never have been able to make a truly free decision. Such a burden would be too great."

Cami thought a minute, then asked in a concerned tone, "But what about the hobbrim? Will the hobbits even remember they had kin?"

"They will remember their kin." Ancalimon said gently, "but only that they chose to stay behind and live a life at sea. The exact nature of that change will slip away, like a dream remembered dimly the next morning. You and Rose and Gamba will be the only ones to retain that knowlege. But, in years to come, there may be a few adventurous hobbits, particularly in the line of the Tooks, who will feel compelled to go to Sea, yet won't realize that they are actually hunting for their lost kin.

Cami sighed and felt sad. So Gamba's loss of Phura was to rebound in the hearts of the Tooks even down to the end of the Third Age. Some things did not mend easily.

"That is enough for now." Ancalimon softly interjected. "But, if I have my way, we will see each other very soon, by your reckoning at least."

"And I'll not forget you, Cami Goodchild. Neither you or Maura. Few will remember what you gave, but I will keep it in my heart. If you had done otherwise, there would have been no rescue or freedom for your people."

Then he hugged her. For a split instant, she buried her head into his grey robes and whispered. "However long or short, I shall miss you. You have taught me and the hobbits so much. I do not even know how to begin to say thanks."

He turned and left the room, and Cami resumed her packing with a curiously heavy heart.
---------------------------------------------

After all that organizing and packing and such serious goodbyes, Cami felt as if she needed to get away for a bit and have some fun. She didn't want to sit here on her last evening on the Star all by herself. Even if she couldn't find a companion, she at least wanted to go and pay her last respects to the isle.

Perhaps, Bird was in her cabin, and she'd agree to go exploring. It would be fun to visit the hobbrim in their coves, or swim out into the ocean to see Levanto, or even figure out a way to climb or fly to the top of Mount Eru and wish Angara well in her new role as its defender.

Cami slipped into the galley and stuffed a few picnic things into a hamper. A good hobbit never travels without a few treats in her pack! Then she ran down to Bird's cabin, still dressed in her gear for the Anduin, and began madly pounding on the door, hoping that she would answer.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

‘So, Tulë has come to say farewell.’ Ancalimon sat at his ease on the helm deck with two other of his fellow travellers who would soon be accompanying him on the journey West with the returning Teleri. He watched as Pio came up the stairs, smiling a greeting at him as well as at Khelek and Veritas. Khelek poured a glass of sweet red wine for her, watering it to cut its strength, and handed it to her as she pulled a small crate near them and sat down.

Pio took a small drink of her wine before she spoke. ‘Yes, farewell to you, Ancalimon, especially, since I have just recently learned from Cami that you will not be accompanying us and the Hobbits to the Anduin. I had not thought you would leave us so soon.’ She looked in her glass as if to collect her thoughts, and ran her finger slowly around the rim of it. Looking up, she spoke directly to him.

‘Sailing back to the Star in the skiff, I thought of many things I wished to say to you before we parted. But all those pretty words I had put together seem meaningless now that we are face to face. You were the one to push me to return to my companions on the Star. You said they had need of me. And when I wished only to return as Tulë you said nothing to dissuade me, knowing even then that it was not my knowledge that was required but my self. I thank you for that, and for all the help you have given my companions.’ She raised her glass to him and took another drink. ‘I would hope someday that we might meet again, though I fear that may not be.’

His eyes twinkled as he raised his glass to her. ‘You know my standard answer to that sort of question, Pio.’ Her brow furrowed slightly at this comment and then she burst out laughing. ‘Indeed! No one can see all ends.’

The late afternoon passed pleasantly, Veritas and Khelek asking many questions of her and Ancalimon concerning what they would find in Valinor. And, in turn, the two answered them as they could. She spoke at length with each of them, thanking them for their friendship and their good companionship on this voyage, and wished for each to find the peace and fulfillment they sought.

Mithadan had come on board, returning from a few errands he had set for himself. He sat with them, talking, laughing, and drinking wine until the sun had almost disappeared beneath the rim of the world. The others excused themselves to finish their preparations for tomorrow’s departure, leaving the Elf and Man alone on the deck. For a long while, they stood at the railing, their shoulders just touching, watching the sun set and the stars wink into existence one by one.

Pio took him by the hand, and pulled him down the stairs to the main deck and toward the galley. ‘Let’s get some food and wine and a couple of blankets, Mithadan. Tonight will be our last night here, come spend it with me on the island. We can mark the patterns of the stars, and put away our cares for the while.’

He arched his eyebrows at her suggestion and then grinning broadly said, ‘I’ll get the food and drink, you get the blankets. Meet you in the skiff . . .’

[ November 30, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

Gamba walked along the shore, towards the hobbrim's caves, and thought ahead to the time when Phura and Azraph would return here, after saying goodbye to him and his four boys. He hated the thought, but he realised as he approached them that he hated the caves more. He slowly approached them, dragging his feet more and more with reluctance. Finally, he stood in front of the opening, and took a deep breath, and plunged in.

It was dark, and he blinked, and called. "Loremaster?"

"He's busy, " Kesha replied.

"Kesha."

"Hi, Gamba." Kesha sounded very sad.

Gamba looked around, shivering. "Do you like these caves?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"All right, then."

Kesha puzzled at him. Gamba dallied until Loremaster returned.

"Dear boy." Loremaster's voice was very quiet, and Gamba looked up at him.

"I came to say goodbye, Loremaster. "

"I shall miss you terribly, " said the old man, softly.

Gamba looked at him. "Do you really think so?" he said with guileless curiosity, and Loremaster had to smile. "Yes, Gamba. Yes, I will."

"You'll have better students now, " Gamba said.

"You'll have a better teacher, " he replied, smiling.

"Nitir?" Gamba's eyebrows went up.

"You're a lucky, lucky boy, " Loremaster nodded. "Yes. I have asked her to be available for you. I believe she will be, " he said, with careful non-commitance.

"Oh, she will. She's invited me to join her and Azra, and be a part of their family, " Gamba asserted, and Loremaster smiled. "Has she now."

"I thought you knew that."

Loremaster nodded, and clapped his shoulder. "It's just very good to hear you say it out loud, yourself. Yes, you are in good hands. I can rest knowing that you will be under her watchful eye."

"I hope she doesn't watch me too hard, " Gamba replied.

Loremaster laughed. "She understands you better than I ever did, I think, " he said. "I don't think you need to fear for your future. I think you will be far happier with her than you were with me."

That suddenly made Gamba very uncomfortable. "Loremaster?" he said, frowning.

"She understands you, " Loremaster repeated, "better than I do."

"No, " Gamba replied, emotionally, and threw his arms around Loremaster. "No, she doesn't."

"Dear boy, " he replied, and held him tightly. "I shall miss you. But I shall not grieve at your departure. The road you take is a good one.
You will do well."

Gamba dashed his tears away, and said, "I wish we didn't all have to separate like this."

"Your forests need you, Gamba. Go, knowing that you will live fully there. That is where you belong." Loremaster kissed his brow, much to Gamba's astonishment, and then briefly placed his hand on his head, and then clapped both of his shoulders. "Don't be afraid, of the separation, or of the future. Abandon yourself to destiny, and go. You will soar."

The song about Bird, Gamba realised. Phura's dream. Soaring? He did love the wind in the trees. He thought about that, and Loremaster saw the thoughtful look on his face, and with one more kiss on his brow, Loremaster turned and softly went out. When Gamba looked up, he was gone.

Kesha stood up from where he'd been waiting in a corner. Gamba sighed. Kesha came to him and Gamba held him.

"Why can Phura and Azraph come with you, and Kali and Daisy and Andril, but I can't?"

Gamba shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, I wish I could come."

Gamba thought about that for a bit, and slowly smiled. "Why not?"

Kesha looked up at him. "How?"

"There's plenty of places you can hide on board the Lonely Star, " Gamba said thoughtfully.

"Hide?"

"Sure. The hold, the closets... under the beds... "

"Won't Loremaster worry?"

Gamba puzzled about that for a moment, and then said, "Are you sure that you want to do this?"

Kesha nodded.

Gamba got out a pen and ink and vellum, and carefully wrote a note, and then rolled it up.

"Then, right before you swim out to the Lonely Star, and shinny up the anchor chain, and meet me on the stern deck, give this to Coral, and tell her to give it to Loremaster once the ships have all disappeared from sight."

"You're the best, " Kesha said with a grin.

Gamba smiled. That was one goodbye he didn't have to say today, and that was all for the good. Relieved, he said. "When the moon sets, I'll be waiting."

"All right." Kesha's eyes shone, and he hid the note in a safe place til he could give it to Coral.

[ December 22, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Birdland]

Bird stumbled out of her bunk, bleary eyed and bedraggled, squinting to keep out the daylight streaming in her cabin window.

She stumbled over a box, cursing at the pain in her toe, and yanked open the door.

And there stood Cami. Bird was about to give her a good talking to about waking her up at this time of the morning (just what time was it, anyway?), but the look on the halflings face silenced her.

"I thought we could go for a last walk around the island, Birdie. I can't stand to be on the ship anymore, and I've finished everything I need to do here. We could go and see Angara, if you like."

Bird smiled as she remembered her image of the great golden dragon dancing on the sand the night before. But she had avoided any private words with Angara, perhaps because she knew it would turn into a lecture on the dragon's part. But she knew it could not be put off any longer. It was time to start saying good-byes.

"Let me put on my shoes, and I'll be right there."
************************
The tide was low, and Kali was showing the Hobbrim how to find clams in the soft sand as Cami and Bird walked up the beach to join them. Angara was helping also, thrusting her long talons deep into the sand and plucking out the shelled delicacies before they had a chance to burrow deeper.

The children came running up, showing off their catch and chattering about the wonderful feast of steamed clams they would have that night. Kali and Angara came to join them, and after sending the children off to continue their hunt, the four companions walked far up the beach.

They talked and walked for hours, remembering all the adventures they had been through, laughing over some, and spoke without sadness about those that they had met and lost. And they rejoiced again over the fact that Pio had been restored to them again. Angara and Cami discussed their duties as the guardians of their peoples, and Kali talked long about the customs of the Hobbrim, and asked many questions about the lives of Halflings in the Third Age, hoping that they could incorporate these things into the lives of the Hobbrims, so that they would all truly be one clan.

Bird paused on the sand, watching as the three companions walked away from her, thinking that this was probably the last time they would ever be together like this again. And then a terrifying, lonely thought came to her: This would be the last time, and not because of the distances that separated them. No, once she, Pio and Mith made the leap once more into the Fourth Age, then these people that she had grown to love would be gone. No, not gone she thought, They’ll be dead. Dead for a thousand years.

Her stomach clenched at the thought, and for the first time, Bird actually felt pity for the Elven Kind. For this is how they must have felt when first they came to know and love the Second Children of Eru. For they had stood as on a shore also, and watched as Men grew old, and died, and left for a place they would never see or know. They would only be left with memories that would last as long as time.

At least Bird knew that when her own time came, that she would meet with these friends again, even after a thousand years. Why, this must be why the Elves called Death the “gift” of Men!

Suddenly she sprinted forward, calling “Wait!“ Kali, Cami and Angara turned and laughed as Bird came struggling through the soft sand, Panting, she ran ahead of them and stood, blocking their paths.

“Listen”, she said, trying to catch her breath. I have something to tell you all. Actually, I mean; to give you all.“

“What is it Bird-ee?” asked Kali, laughing. “You carry nothing with you.”

“Well, yes, I do, in a way. And this is actually for Cami. I doubt that your or Angara will have much use for this, but I’d like you to have it anyway.”

“What would you like to give me, Bird” asked Cami

“It’s my name. Oh, not those names“ Bird said as she saw the puzzled looks. “My real name. I don’t know much about my own folk, but my foster Da taught me a few words of the language, whatever the Beorn remembered from their own past, and he told me the name that my folks gave me, before they left me at the Carrock. It was written on a note, along with my ‘outsider’ name, so to speak. Which is Birdland, of course, though don’t ask my why.“

“You see, Cami, you might run into, and recognize, other skinchangers while you and your folk are wandering around in the Third Age. It’s possible, I know they were there. Now I can’t be there anymore to get you or Rose out of any jams anymore. But I’d like you to be able to call on my own people, if you ever have need to. But you have to know what to say. Else they won’t help you, you see. Now I‘ve never even told Pio this, there was no need. But you may have need, so I’m giving it to you.”

Cami said nothing, just ran forward and wrapped her arms around the changling in a deep embrace and started to cry. Bird started to tear up as well, but put a stop to all that by taking her arms from around the Hobbit and holding her away.

“Now, none of that. You must concentrate and practice how to say what I’m going to teach you, for my real name's a bit of a jaw-cracker. And if you say what I’m teaching you wrong, why the Skinchangers might not help you.“

Cami nodded silently, and brushing away her tears, sat on the sand next to Kali and Angara and waited. Bird stood upright and intoned: Camilia Goodchilde. I give you my name, which is Dester' edra.*

“Dester' edra” Why, it’s beautiful Bird! What does it mean?”

“Oh, it still means ‘Bird‘. Not any bird in particular. Just ‘a bird‘. It can also mean ‘horse‘, too, I‘m told.”

“That’s a long word for ‘bird,” wondered Kali.

Birdie laughed. “Yes, I guess it is. If you translate it word-for-word, so to speak, it means “wind-sibling”. If I were a man, it would end with an “E“, but since I‘m a woman, it ends with an “A“. So I am “sister-of-the-wind“. But that is not the only word you should know. Just my name won’t be enough. You must say this: Te' sorthene Dester' edra. If you say those two words together, that should be enough to convince them that you have known a skinchanger, and they will help you.

Cami said “So Te' sorthene means friend!”

“Not just ‘friend’, said Bird with a smile, “It means ‘friend of the heart’, or ‘friend of the spirit’.
*************************

*The two words that Birdie says are from the Romany language. My apologies if I have butchered them. - Birdland

[ November 30, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[ December 02, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami reached out for Bird's hand and gently squeezed it. "Dester' edra....Daughter of the Wind. That describes you perfectly. I wonder how your parents knew you would be like that, when you were still so little?"

Cami's voice was soft and wistful. "Maybe someday, I'll meet another shapechanger, and say the words you taught me. And, in every kindness that's returned, I'll see and remember a friend who once stood by my side."

As Cami turned to go, another idea crept into her mind. There was one other quality she'd come to associate with Bird. Her friend would probably disagree, but Cami was sure she was right about this. Bird seemed to display an uncanny measure of grace in her every feeling and action. The hobbit had never met anyone who could calmly accept and welcome change with such humor and cheerfulness, even when circumstances were not ideal.

It was one thing to have a special person missing from your life. It was another to be totally bereft of kith and kin, not even sure whether your own people lived or died. Yet, she had rarely heard Bird complain, or bemoan the doom that had fallen upon her head.

On a sudden impulse, Cami glanced around one last time, and called to her from across the beach, "Bird, I too have a mathom for you. It stands somewhere between hope and belief. Someday, somewhere, you will find
other shapechangers, and discover the fate of your people."

Then Cami raced forward along the white sands to catch a skiff back to her cabin. A single thought ran through her head as she stepped onto the deck of the Star to start the last leg of her trip. Goodbye island. You are beautiful, and I shall miss you dearly, but I go to where I belong.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Day dawned bright and promising. The morning for departure had come. Cami shooed the last of the Hobbits on board the Lonely Star and hurried up the ladder herself. Fourteen elven ships plus the Star now awaited the signal to set sail. Earlier they had said their farewells to Tuor's ship and the remainder of the Teleri, and watched them set a course West. Now it was their turn.

A last lingering wave to the Hobbrim standing on the shore, and then Mithadan gave the signal. The crews weighed anchor and unfurled their sails to the morning breeze. Almost as one, the great ships leaped to catch the waves, carrying their precious cargo east.

[mark12_30]

The voyage was more pleasant than Gamba had dreamed, except that he missed the trees; but he promised himself that there would be trees where they were going; Cami had made that very clear.

At night, Phura rejoined Gamba and the boys, and Azraph slept in the same room as Andril. Gamba quickly got used to Phura's clammy skin, but the little boys didn't, and none of them wanted to snuggle with Phura during the night. Phura sighed more than once. "I miss Kesha, " he would say. Gamba always muttered something sympathetic and changed the subject.

If the wind was light, Azraph and Andril and Phura often went swimming, and Levanto and Bird would join them, and they would pace the ship. Kali and Daisy joined them sometimes. They stayed in good physical condition this way, and their appetites remained high, which concerned Mithadan occasionally. But the fishing remained good. The few times that the fish supply got a bit too short, and the nets had been empty for too long, the fleet hove to, and Andril, Kali, Daisy, Phura, Azraph, Levanto, and Bird would swim around til they found a school of fish, and simply herd them into the net. Bird always felt a little bit guilty about this, but she reasoned that the hobbits did have to eat.

Phura spent a fair amount of time swimming with Bird, and sometimes when he did, Gamba would come down and join Levanto. This puzzled Mithadan at first, but Cami took the captain aside, and explained how popular the hobbits' Levanto game had been in the tombs with the young hobbit children. Mithadan laughed wryly at first, and then sobered.

"So-- this Levanto/Piosenniel game has what to do with Gamba?"

"Esta was Gamba's Piosenniel. Levanto lost his Pio; Gamba lost Esta. They understand each others' loss."

"Ah, " Mithadan said, and turned to look over the rail. While Phura and Bird swooped and gamboled, Levanto swam alongside the Star with Gamba clinging to his back, and they were deep in discussion. Every now and then a wave broke, and Gamba would splutter a bit, but he spat out the salt water, and the conversation continued. Cami suspected that Levanto and Gamba's parting would be another difficult one, and she looked up at Mithadan. There would be too many goodbyes.

She sighed, and turned back to watch the strange foursome, the hobbrim frolocking with the dolphin, and the drenched hobbit clinging to the merman. And suddenly she laughed, glad that Gamba did not know he was doing something that no third-age land-loving hobbit would have been caught dead doing.

That night, as other nights, she wondered why Gamba left the little boys with her, and disappeared with his large dinner and went elsewhere. She wondered if he was sharing it with Levanto. She shrugged, and thought she was glad he had someone to talk to.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As Cami glanced around the Star, she was pleasantly surprised to see so many hobbits enjoying themselves on deck, gazing out across the waters. When she had lived in the Shire, hobbits and the Sea were two ingredients that never seemed to come together. Before she'd met Mithadan and Piosenniel, Cami had not even visited the coastline, or gone adventuring in anything larger than a rowboat.

Although living on an island, the hobbits from the tombs also knew little of the Sea or its mysteries. Yet many now seemed to relish the voyage, hanging on the rail or leaning out to point their fingers towards the gliding seagulls. Their children regularly ran down to the galley to steal bread from the cooks. Then they'd stand in the stern of the vessel tossing their offerings into the sky and watching as the birds swooped down to catch the morsels between their beaks.

Sometimes, the ship stopped dead in the water for lack of wind, or because they decided to beach at one of the windswept, deserted islets along the way. Bird would plunge into the water along with Kali and Daisy, or Phura and Azraph, and Levanto would surface to join them. They'd bring some of the braver hobbit children in to splash and play and learn to paddle. Sometimes Cami would slip off her outer skirt, and jump into the waves from one of the side ladders, chasing Asta and Roka in circles.

They were making steady progress towards the east, but there didn't seem to be any real reason to hurry. However fast or slow they sailed, they'd get to where they were going at exactly the same time. Their arrival was to be the year 1000 in the Third Age, the end of a long period of relative tranquility and the distant beginnings of a new era that would see the shadow rise again to threaten the free peoples of Middle-earth. But, right now, those problems seemed happily far away.

Cami found herself enjoying this voyage on the Star more than the others she'd taken before. Perhaps it was because she knew this would be her very last time at Sea. She managed to push that thought to the back of her mind and concentrated instead on the little things that could be enjoyed and shared. She spent many hours with Andril, talking about hobbit culture and history from the First and Second Age. Sometimes, in the morning, soon after the sun peeped over the horizon, she met with Ban and a few other youngsters to help them learn their letters.

Even Mithadan and Piosenniel seemed to fall under the spell of the fresh sea breezes and calm afternoons. Mithadan's face looked more relaxed than Cami had ever seen it. As days turned into weeks, Piosenniel's slender frame was, for the first time, beginning to soften and fill out, the first outward hint of the new lives that were starting to take root.

The only puzzling thing to Cami was how Gamba acted towards her. Unlike their time on Meneltarma when she'd felt close to him, the boy seemed to go out of his way to avoid her company. He spent time with Phura, but even his brother confided to Cami that there was something strange about Gamba's behavior. The boy often ate alone in his cabin, taking plateloads of food out from the supper table, enough to feed three or four hungry hobbits. Once or twice, Cami thought she'd caught him swimming in the Seas late at night when the ship was standing still in the water, a very dangerous practice indeed. But she couldn't be sure. The voices and shadows melted away whenever she went to investigate.

Yet Cami really wasn't suspicious until one evening about three weeks into their sailing. Daisy and Cami had unexpectedly come into the galley after dinner looking for something. Daisy was complaining to her about a missing plate of searooms she felt sure she'd left here, hoping to share it later with Rose. At that instant, a strange shadow played on the wall and went creeping across, almost as if there was a small animal who'd decided to exit very quickly.

Daisy and Cami caught each other's eye with a puzzled expression on their faces. This was too familiar to be ignored. The women agreed to stay alert for the next few days to see if their hunch was right.

*********************************************


For the next week, Daisy and Cami did a fair amount of scavenging over the decks of the Star. Yet, whatever closets or trunks they searched, they found nothing further that aroused suspicion. Cami was beginning to think she'd overreacted terribly and that she'd seen nothing more than the shadows of flickering candles innocently reflected along a wall.

One night, the women had been up on deck assisting with the sails and rigging after an easterly unexpectedly hit. Tired and strained from physical exertion, the two pushed their way back into the galley where they'd left their uneaten dinner plates. The plates still sat there, but the food that was supposed to be on them had totally vanished.

With the piercing insight of a veteran smuggler, Daisy cocked her head towards the garbage chute, hearing noises that merited investigation. It sounded as if several large rats were digging for cover, burying themselves under a pile of apple peelings and fish bones. Daisy grabbed Cami by the skirts and placed an index finger over her lips to inicate they should both be quiet. Then she seized the chute handle with both hands and wrenched it open, reaching down into the smelly debris to pull up two small heads.

"Look what I've found!" she chortled, lifting the culprits up by the hair.

Cami stared aghast to see Gamba and Kesha awkwardly clamber out of the trash.

Gamba placed himself in front of the younger boy as if he was expecting to be hit and stuttered out words of apology, "I'm so sorry. Kesha wanted to come, and I wanted him to. It's the last time we'll all be together."

"Please don't send him away. Please." The boy sounded desperate.

Cami shook her head, "Whoa. Calm down. No one's being sent away. Now, sit down and explain what's happened."

Cami coaxed the story out of the two bit by bit, including the part about Gamba's letter to Loremaster. The woman tried unsuccessfully to stifle a grin, thinking about poor Loremaster reading that letter, his last treasured legacy from a loving but wayward student. Cami suspected he'd appreciate that note a bit more, once he had Kesha back at his side and was assured of the boy's safety.

"Are you going to punish us?" Gamba queried.

"I suspect I'll have to do something, but that's not the point."

Cami sighed and continued. "Gamba, look at me. Listen up and listen hard. There was no need to do this. If you'd just come and spoken with me, I would have done everything in my power to have Kesha come with us. I understand perfectly why you don't want to be separated. Perfectly."

"In the future, I'd appreciate if you would trust me instead of going through a charade like this."

She bent down and kissed the top of his curly head, drawing sharply back at the mingled odors that lingered there. "Go on, both of you. Clean yourselves up and get to bed. I'll talk to Mithadan and Pio in the morning."

For the next two days, Kesha and Gamba spent their afternoons side-by-side assiduously polishing all the brass hardware on the ship.

Daisy came up to Cami and whispered, "Whose idea was this?"

Cami flicked her thumb backwards towards the Man and explained, "If you find an effective punishment once, and it has such good results, you definitely stick with it a second time."

Mithadan grinned impishly and nodded in their direction to acknowledge the truth in Cami's words.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Kesha and Gamba got used to looking for their reflections in brass. It wasn't exactly easy work, and their arms got tired, but they polished on. For one thing, the fresh air smelled much better than the garbage chutes, and the crannies and hiding places in the Hold, and even better than Cami's closet, which got stifling after a boy had been there for a night or five. And Gamba was very relieved that he had not gotten in far worse trouble.

Cami continued to surprise him. And yet, the more he thought of it, she wasn't really that much more merciful than Loremaster had been. Gamba had just never seen the mercy in the old man. His old punishnments had always involved studying more, which sometimes seemed like an intolerable burden, whereas the brass seemed almost like fun, since it was outdoors, under the sky and in the wind. As he polished one bit of brass after the next, Gamba reviewed the many times that Loremaster had disciplined him. Studying was really a pretty merciful punishment, he reflected, thinking back over the rescue and the battle and the weeks and weeks of gravedigging, and he reflected that the only time the punishment had ever been severe-- being sent to dig graves-- was when he had been disrespectful about Loremaster's favorite poet.

Gamba wondered who Cami's favorite poet was, and resolved to ask her, and never, ever be disrespectful about that poet. But then he thought about it again.

I bet Loremaster Maura is her soft spot, he thought. And then he relaxed. After singing Lindo's Lament for Maura night after night as Little Maura's special lullabye, he had developed his own respect for Loremaster Maura, and had no desire to be disrespectful to him anyway.

Maybe, though, he would still ask her, and maybe she'd tell him a story. He hoped she would.

He went on to the next peice of brass, and felt the wind in his curls, and thought that polishing brass wasn't that bad at all.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

Pio sat on the helm deck, watching Daisy take her turn at the Wheel. Late summer and still the days were hot. She fanned herself with the small tray her tepid tea had come on, and tried to focus on the chart spread on her knees. The sail billowed in the west wind, and the Star moved quickly through the waters of the seas, cleaving the waves in its hurry to bring its cargo to their new home.

She was in two minds about their progress. The first, her practical, orderly approach, chafed at the thought that this journey, now three weeks long, should only have taken a week and a half had the winds been always with them and no stops taken for pleasure. There had been only one or two days when they were becalmed, and even tacking should have brought them sooner than this to the entrance of the great bay, Belfalas.

In her other thoughts, though, lay the desire for this journey to never end. And in her wilder reasonings, she dreamt of seizing the wheel at night as the others lay sleeping and sailing the Star far to the south, or even back to Tol Meneltarma. Already she missed the droll humour, the pointed barbs of Angara. She longed to hold Shell and Coral once again and hear their childish chatterings, feel their little arms about her neck, the sweet smell of them. She gazed at Daisy and sighed, not wanting to say good-bye to her forever.

And Cami . . . she feared the Hobbit did not understand why she had put on the armour of Elven aloofness, avoiding as she could any chance meetings. Life, she knew, would soon push them down their separate paths, and new friends and loved ones and fresh places would fill their days and their dreams . . . almost, but not quite. Shaking her head at these shadowed thoughts, she almost missed the cry from Daisy.

‘Pio!’ she said, pointing excitedly. ‘Look! Land!’

The Elf stood, shading her eyes against the glare of the sun, and looked west. The growing shape of Ras Morthil, the Cape of Andrast, held her gaze to the north. Mithadan had come up to stand beside her, and then gave directions to Daisy. Soon they would anchor, when Mithadan had reached the position he desired. Then he and the Star would enter the bay, sailing up The Great River to Minas Anor to secure the needed ships.

[mark12_30]

Phura, Azraph, and Kesha suddenly jumped up; they had been sitting on the bow, dangling their webbed feet over the tossing waves.

"Get Gamba!" Phura told Kesha, and Kesha's webbed feet slapped across the deck and he hurtled down the ladder. Phura smiled. A hobbrim's webbed feet did make it harder to walk quietly like a hobbit would. They would practice, he decided.

Phura and Azraph stood on tiptoe, and barely discerned the glimmer of faroff mountain peaks. Soon Gamba joined them. "Where?" he demanded. They pointed. He stood on tiptoe also, straining, and then a gasp of delight escaped him.

It was followed by tears, which he dashed away; they remained there and stood together, eventually joined by Andril, and watched the mountains slowly, slowly grow larger.

Days passed, and still they spent most of their time on the bow. Cami joined them frequently, and Rose, and Andril; but the three hobbrim and Gamba hardly left the rail. The four little boys played across the deck and down in the hold; Gamba did not worry about them, although he often held Maura. The weather was fair, the swells relatively low, and Ban, Asta, and Roka all stayed well away from the rail. The three Hobbrim and Gamba stared and stared at the horizon til their eyes hurt.

"Look at it, " Gamba would mutter. "One after the other, and another one after that. Do they never end?"

"It's like a forest of Meneltarmas, " Kesha said once, and Phura smiled.

They really had little to compare it to. Phura struggled making his own comparisons. It reminded him of a work detail, all in line, marching off to the mines, shovels and picks on their shoulders. Azraph joked that the mountains were standing in line waiting for dinner, and that was the image that ended up sticking in their imaginations.

Weeks later when they would finally arrived at Minas Anor, and realise that Mount Mindolluin was the front of the line, Kesha would say, "So that's the kitchen?" And among themselves, that was what the three Hobbrim and Gamba called the city. Years and years later, Gamba would always associate the vast range of the White Mountains with dry crusts of bread and wrinkled apples. That Cami told him there were tombs in Minas Anor would not help matters.

But now, today, they were mesmerised with the blue bay, and the snow-capped peaks, and the miles and miles and miles of green and purple shore that stretched on before them. None of them had ever imagined anything so vast. Gamba wanted to go and explore, but Cami reminded him that they had a long ways to go.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan scanned the broad expanse of the Bay of Belfalas. It seemed little different from the way it appeared (will appear) in the Fourth Age. Yet, his seasoned eye picked out subtle variations. Here a small island where later there would be only a shoal. There a reef where later there would be nothing at all. He sought and found an area where the water was deep both now and two Ages hence and ordered the sails furled.

The flotilla gathered around the Lonely Star. When Mithadan was satisfied with the placement of the vessels, he nodded to Piosenniel. She took the crystal and inserted it into its slot, then closed her eyes, contacting the Telerin ships. A minute later, their surroundings shimmered and, in places shifted slightly before becoming clear again. She looked at the land, still several miles away and said, "This should be the 1000th year of the Third Age."

Mithadan looked about and spotted a familiar isle not far away. "Have the Teleri moor there," he said. "Then we go to Minas Anor. Our friends will require transport up the Anduin."

Bird looked up at this. "I would not exchange the past months for anything beneath the sky," she said. "But this voyage has hardly been profitable. How will we pay for transport? With searooms?"

Mithadan smiled. "Leave that to me..."

[Child of the 7th Age]

As the Star pulled into the Bay, Cami had to admit that her mind was not on transport arrangements. She'd decided to leave all that to Mithadan and Bird and Pio. She trusted them to make things turn out all right. All these months on a vessel and she'd never really gotten the hang of navigation. No wonder she was destined for solid ground!

Cami leaned against the rail as the distant outline of the White Mountains slowly came into clearer focus. The snow covered tip of its nearest peak was barely visible amid the mists and clouds.

Phura and Gamba had come up beside her to catch their first close glimpse of Middle-earth. The brothers pointed and gestured with excitement towards the coastline, which extended towards the east as far as they could see. Rose had perched herself up on the railing, lost in dreams and memories of the last time she'd been near those hills.

Cami explained to Gamba how the range swung eastward and inland down towards the Anduin, rambling on for over six hundred miles. They were likely to see it again to the west when they sailed up the River, and passed Minas Anor.

With a pang of remembrance, Cami recalled how she'd bid farewell to this same range just outside Minas Anor to embark on her voyage. Less than a year ago, yet it seemed like a lifetime. The household where she'd worked for so many years had lain on the hills of Emyn Arnen. She remembered sitting in her tiny room every evening looking out, wishing and hoping that something would push her along a different path.

On a clear day, she could see the slopes of Mindolluin and its Hill of Guards from her little window. How many times had she sat and wondered what it would be like to walk along the ridge of the White Mountains, clear to the other end, to see the Cape of Andrast with her own eyes? Now, from the deck of the Star, the Cape stood before her.

Rose leaned over and whispered, "Do you remember that last week in Minas Anor? Going to the Hill of Guards? Just before we searched out a ship to find sea-hobbits?"

Cami laughed. "How could I forget? It was the Tombs that decided everything for me." At the mention of the word "Tombs", Gamba flinched as if someone had jabbed him with the prick of a knife.

"Tombs?" he asked with a grumble. "I thought we'd left those behind."

"No, Gamba, not a prison. Just the tombs of burial for the Kings and Stewards of Gondor, and other great ones of the land."

"Let me tell you a story about that, one that Rose has heard before. I worked for the household of Beregond, the captain of Faramir's guard, a great hero and a decent Man. The family had built such close ties to the Stewards of Gondor that, when Beregond's father died, they allowed him to rest in the Stewards' burial plot. There used to be a Hall there, I think, but that has long since gone.

"There was a day when the whole household went through the Closed Door to mourn their departed, and I saw the Hallows. It was the day they laid Master Bregor to rest, right next to the Tombs where the Kings and Stewards of Gondor lay. Like his son and grandson, he was a good Man, kindly to the servants who worked in his house."

"Yet, when I saw that burial plot, I knew I had to leave. It reminded me I was mortal. No matter what I did, whether I stayed in the city or went on some madcap adventure, someday, somewhere, others would build a barrow for me. The only real difference was what I'd do with that time before the barrow came. Plus, I was the only hobbit there, the only mortal who did not share in the tales behind those Tombs."

"Most hobbits wouldn't care about that. Yet I felt so lonely, so pitifully lonely. I was away from the Shire, and I had no tales from my past, no lays or songs, to comfort me as these folk did. They at least knew where they'd come from. I knew nothing beyond a few whispered rumors and a strange note about sea hobbits."

"So, like you Gamba, I walked out of the Tombs and decided it was time for a change. My teacher Bilbo was gone. He wasn't coming back, no matter how much I wished it. No one wanted to find those sea-hobbits except for me. I was hardly the ideal candidate to go off on an adventure, but someone had to do it, or it wouldn't get done. Right away, I knew I needed help. So the very next day, I went to the harbor and pounded on doors until I found Mithadan."

"That's what I think of when I see these mountains, even clear down here, on the other end of the range."

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Cami rejoined Gamba, Phura, Azraph, and Kesha on the bow. Gamba had been thinking.

"You said this ... range... is six hundred miles long, " he replied. "Is that how big this island is?" Six hundred miles?"

Cami laughed. "It's not an island. It's land. "

"But..."

"After the mountains end, the land keeps going. Although... north is better than east."

"It is?"

"We will go north, " Cami said firmly.

His bafflement penetrated her soul, and she said, "Wait here." Not that they had gone anywhere else in days and days, she smiled, but he dutifully did not budge, nor the Hobbrim either, until she returned carefully carrying a large map. She spread it carefully on the deck, and told them each to hold a corner.

"We are ... here, " she tapped the vellum. There are the mountains, from here to here; we will be going to Minas Anor... right here... and then we will go up the river, and to the forests."

Gamba squinted at the runes, and shifted so that he could see them right side up. "An... du... in. Anduin."

"Yes, " she smiled at him. He was obviously getting rusty, and almost against her better judgement she began plotting how to return him to his studies. Wait, she told herself. We have years and years for that.

He studied the river, and tapped at Minas Anor. "This is where the tombs are?"

"Yes, " she said.

He wrinkled his nose. "Then I'm going up here." He pointed to the very top of the Anduin, as far away from Minas Anor as he could be and still be on the river.

"Gamba, darling, " Cami began. That was too far from Rivendell to suit her!

His jaw tightened with resolve, and he pointed again. "La... Lang... Langwell, " he announced. "Right up there. Langwell river. That's where I'm going."

"But, " Cami began, her jaw dropping. and Phura laughed.

"No caves for him, " Phura chuckled. "Not ever again. Right, Gamba?"

Gamba sat back, satisfied. "This... Greenwood. That's a forest, right? A big one. And there are mountains over here. I bet there are elves in that big forest."

"Well, yes, there are, " Cami admitted reluctantly. She pointed hesitantly to Thranduil's kingdom, across from Erebor. "There are wood elves here."

"That's where I'm going, then, " he finalized.

"But, there are also elves here, " she pointed hopefully to Lorien, "and here-- " she pointed to Rivendell.

"That forest isn't as big as Greenwood. I'm going to Greenwood. And Rivendell doesn't show a forest at all. Forget that. I want the big forest. I'm going there. Langwell."

She sighed at him, frustrated already. And then she softened. "When you come of age, Gamba, you can go wherever you want to go. But until you do, " she said with a wry smile, "I would rather that you stay with me, and with Rose. And we weren't planning on going quite so far North. Perhaps here, " she tapped the Anduin near the Gladden fields, "Or here, by the Carrock. Or here, maybe, by the Old Forest Road crossing. We haven't really decided that. And all those spots are right next to Greenwood."

"Not far enough from those tombs, " Gamba said flatly, and Cami shook her head, and almost regretted showing him the map. But she shook that off. Perhaps there were other forces at work in the boy than his own whim. She watched him for a while, and suddenly knew that to be true. And she smiled, and reached up, and ran her fingers through his curls. To her surprise, he blinked back tears. But just as quickly, he shook himself, and returned to gazing at the Langwell river, and the north end of Greenwood.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mithadan]

The journey up the river took nearly three days. During this time, the crew of the Lonely Star spoke little of what was to come and, instead, discussed the events of the months preceding, laughing at their foibles and smiling at fond memories. Yet, at last, the ship finally approached Harlond.

The docks and landings were different, Mithadan saw, and there were more great ships of war than cargo vessels swaying at their moorings. This was a time of the Ship Kings, when Gondor had extended its reach far to the south, even unto Umbar. Many tales were told of this time during the Fourth Age, and the might of Gondor during this period was almost legendary.

The Lonely Star pulled slowly into port and found a space to dock amid several swift attack ships. Mithadan descended to the dock and was met by a uniformed Man who asked few questions but took the mooring fee and walked away. Returning to his ship, Mithadan spoke with Bird, Piosenniel, Cami and Rose. "We must obtain an audience with King Ciryandil," he said. "Hobbits are unknown to Gondor at this time. I suggest that all but Bird, Piosenniel and myself stay on the ship, lest we have to answer too many unwanted questions."

He looked over to where the Hobbits and Hobbrim were gathered by the rail, gawking at the mighty city. Then he turned to Cami and Rose. "It seems to me that, for once, there is no place here for the rewnowned Halfling curiosity," he added with a smile. "If it is secrecy that you wish, then it is with secrecy that we must act."

He went below decks, only to return quickly with a black box. Then he removed all but his sword from his belt and turned to Piosenniel. "Just two knives, this time, love," he suggested. "And none hidden away. We'll be safe enough here and need not arouse the suspicions of any guards."

Minutes later, the three descended the gangway and began their walk to the gates of the Tower of the Sun...

[ December 10, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

The Elf felt a little defenseless, dressed as she was. She had opted to look her most harmless to enter the city of the Ship Kings, and she felt ill at ease. No leggings for ease of movement, tucked into high boots concealing her favorite throwing knives. No loose tunic pulled snug about her waist with a twice looped belt holding other blades. No sword weighing comfortably against her hip.

Instead, she looked every inch the Lady and wife to a Man of Gondor. Long flowing dress, a discrete blue, just tight enough about the bodice and waist to give a hint of her condition. Soft leather shoes and blue stockings. And all covered with a dark blue cloak. Her only adornment her wedding band, and a small knife in a silver sheath, hung from a silver chain about her hips. ‘No wonder,’ she thought to herself as she walked beside Mithadan, ‘that women often resorted to more subtle and nefarious ways of arming themselves.’

A small dark striped cat darted out from behind a stack of crates, and wound its way about her legs almost tripping her. Mithadan steadied her at the elbow, and wondered at her as she laughed at the scurrying feline. ‘If we see nine more of them,’ she said grinning at him, ‘I shall think the wraith of Queen Berúthiel still sits in the palace sending them out to collect information. Perhaps, even, now that tabby is telling her there are three entering the city who do not smell quite right.’

Mithadan raised his eyebrows at the comment, as did Bird. Pio drew her hood up and pulled her features into some semblance of seriousness and walked on between them.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The hobbits lined up along the railing with wistful eyes to watch Mithadan descend the gangplank, Piosenniel flanking him on the left and Bird on the right. Bird turned to wave a final goodbye to Cami, then trotted forward to regain her place beside the Man. Cami wondered whether the Elf or shapechanger had the slightest idea what Mithadan intended to do, or whether he had left them as much in the dark as she was.

Both women were respectably dressed, quite different from the unconventional attire they usually wore aboard the Star. Cami tried unsuccessfully to stifle her laughter, and was given a brief, sharp glance by the Elf.

Her friend's dress and demeanor were definitely those of a good wife of Gondor, as she tried to walk demurely by her husband's side. Somehow, the image did not fit. Pio looked uncomfortable, as if she was wearing shoes that were too tight for her feet. Every now and then her strides would lengthen when she forgot the role she was expected to play. Then she'd slow down and pull back to stand just to the rear of her husband's shoulder with a strained look showing on her face. As the trio disappeared into the crowded streets, Cami could have sworn she'd seen Mithadan trying to hide a smile or two as he looked over towards his own dear wife.

Even after the landing party had departed, a number of hobbits clung to the rail, pointing fingers towards the city sights and asking why they couldn't disembark. Cami had told them several tales of the Green Dragon and Prancing Pony, and many were hankering to go see if there was a similar establishment in Minas Anor.

Andril and Phura helped Cami shoo most of the onlookers away from the railing and directed them down to the lower decks in case any residents of Minas Anor happened to be strolling too close to the ship. Several younger hobbits eluded Andril's grasp entirely and were clumped together in a knot at the top of the gangway, bitterly complaining about their fate. Andril shooed them away once more and, with Phura's assistance, began pulling the gangplank up onto the deck to prevent any possible escapees.

"This isn't fair!" Gamba retorted to Cami. "I feel like I'm in prison. I want to see the city. I want to buy something in the market and have a drink at an Inn. You told me to talk to you if I've got a problem. I'm talking now, and you're not listening."

"Gamba, be reasonable! We can't have dozens of hobbits turning up in the middle of Minas Anor with no explanation. Of course, people will gradually learn about us in Middle-earth, and we won't try and hide our faces. But now is not the time or place for that, epecially since we'll have a whole fleet of ships trying to get up the river. Do you want the entire population of the city ending up on our doorstep, wishing us well as we leave or, even worse, preventing us from sailing so they can see the miraculous little folk?"

"I have no intention of letting anyone off this ship. Just wait a day, and you'll have plenty of woods to explore. Anyways, we have no money. You can't go to an Inn or a market without money."

"Alright, I hear you, but I don't think it's fair." Then Gamba turned abruptly to go below deck with Kesha.

*********************************************

Two small figures crept cautiously about in the hull of the Star where belongings and supplies for the hobbits had been stowed. These were the provisions Cami and the Elves had collected that would be distributed to the families once they left the ship. There was a large assortment of useful things for someone undertaking a journey, plus a few odds and ends to help furnish and decorate a hobbit hole.

"Why do we need this junk?" Kesha asked. He fished through a pile of clothing and pulled out a cloak with a hood that was spacious enough for two young hobbrim.

"Put it on. We need to cover up. That way, they'll think we're some of the big folks' children."

"But what about this stuff? It's really old. I bet it's from Tol Fuin or even before." Kesha pointed towards a pile Gamba had collected that contained several items, including a long sturdy rope, a painted picture, a small stone tablet, and a book.

"We'll use it to barter. To get things we want. Cami told me some people like real old things. This stuff is sure old, so it should go fast."

The boys stuffed their treasures into a large cloth sack, put on the cloaks, and wrenched open the square door that stood nearby, one of several that were intended to be used for offloading supplies and provisions from the ships's hold. As there was no gangplank in place, the two boys had no choice but to jump.

"Can you make it?" Kesha asked.

"Sure!" With that affirmation, Gamba lept through the air, and landed in a crumpled heap on the wooden dock.

"Come on Kesha." The smaller boy jumped and ended up in the water, which was no disaster for a hobbrim. Gamba leaned down and fished him out.

"Let's go. Fast." Gamba exhorted his friend. "I don't know how much time we'll have."

With that admonition, Kesha and Gamba pulled their hoods over their heads, and scampered off into the streets of Minas Anor. Cami and Andril were just sitting down to a pot of tea in their cabin, congratulating themselves on having settled everyone down.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Gamba found himself wishing that the sun would go down soon. Many people sent puzzled looks at the dripping Kesha, and when Gamba realised that his green webbed feet were still quite visible, he made Kesha cover them with mud. After that, the looks that Kesha got expressed distaste rather than curiosity. Gamba was none too clean himself; he hadn't been swimming in three or four days. People gave them a wide berth.

"Quiet, " Gamba ordered, as they moved onto the hard road, and Kesha's webbed feet slapped loudly on the stones. "Ow, " Kesha complained. "Well, tiptoe, then, " Gamba retorted. "Can't, " Kesha grumped.

"Hello, " Gamba smiled at a young girl passing by. She drew her clean, white cloak closely about herself, clutched her basket defensively, and looked at his feet with distaste. Kesha gaped at her pretty leather boots laced up to her ankles. She passed without comment; he decided he didn't want to talk to her anyway.

They were approaching the wall. Gamba slowed, looking up nervously. It was large, and circular, and at the gates stood guards with spears and swords. But the gates did not trouble him. He slowed further, coming to a halt, and looked up at the great, towering, circular walls.

"What?" Kesha asked.

"Nothing, " Gamba replied, suddenly terrified by the vast, circular wall towering over him, and trying to hide his terror from Kesha. "Nothing." It's not the temple, he repeated to himself. It looks like it, the round wall, but it's not the temple. It's a city. With an inn, and a place to trade for things. Nitir and Azra liked it here. They said so.

"Are you all right, Lad?" asked a tall soldier, looking down at him. Gamba started, and looked up at the man, who pondered their dirty bare feet.

"Fine, thanks, " Gamba muttered, now more terrified of the man than the walls, and moved on. At first he felt that he was walking to his own doom, and then Esta's last night came flooding back to him, and he shook like a leaf and broke into a sweat. He flinched at every man who passed, and scanned the skies looking for the friendly black and silver dragon. Finally he put his back against the wall, closed his eyes, and fought for self-control, and found just a little. They continued on to the gates.

He wondered whether they would need a password or something at the gates, but to his amazement, the guards smiled at them and wondered what kind of fun they'd been having to get so terribly dirty. "Better wash up before your mother sees you, lads, " one of them said, chuckling kindly.

"Thanks," Gamba said, and led Kesha through the gate, with Kesha trying not to slap his feet on the cobblestones. The guards glanced at each other wondering at his terse, familiar answer, but let it go.

As soon as he got well past the gate, Gamba dodged into an alley, and sat down hard, and to Kesha's shock, rolled up a bunch of his cloak, buried his face in it and sobbed, stifling the sounds and gasping for breath. Kesha stood by him, wondering what was the matter.

"Are you hurt?"

The new voice sent a shock through Gamba, and he looked up to see a young boy staring at him. He didn't answer.

"Should I call the guards? Did somebody beat you up?"

Gamba shook his head, and dashed his tears away. "Who are you?"

"I belong here, " the boy snapped. "You're a stranger."

"I'm going, " Gamba replied.

"Wait, " the boy replied, sensing his adventure slipping away before it had begun. "Where are you going?"

"The marketplace, " Gamba said, "and then an Inn."

"You?" the boy laughed.

With tightened lips, Gamba stood and pushed past him, Kesha in tow. The boy jigged beside him, mischief sparkling in his eyes. "What are you going to sell? What inn are you going to?"

Another boy saw them go by. "Gilthor!" he said, and turned to follow.

Gamba sized the now boy up. "Which way to the market?"

"So you are a stranger." Another boy joined the parade, and another.

"Of course I am."

"How'd you get through the gates? We should call the guards!"

"Then you won't find out what I'm going to trade."

"Weapons?" asked one.

"Gold?" asked the other.

"Jewels?" asked the third.

"Dauran will buy anything, " said the fourth. In another moment, they had entered a wide plaza, with stalls and booths and tables, and people crying their wares and waving their goods.

Gamba stopped in his tracks, and so did Kesha. They gaped. They had never seen so much food-- good food-- anywhere, at any time, in their lives, as they saw spread out, booth upon booth upon rows and rows of booths. Their mouths watered, and they sniffed, amazed at the smells; fresh baked bread, sweet fruit, the strong smell of vegetables-- they were standing next to a booth of cabbages and kale and broccoli. Further down, animal carcases hung, and well beyond that, savory smells wafted by and men and women purchased delicacies and snacks and ate them right then.

Gamba turned. There were more booths. Clothing; blankets; swords; jewellry... his head spun. He had never seen so much expensive beauty, so many lovely things, all clustered in one place. Kesha reached up to touch something beautiful, and Gamba caught his wrist. Trembling again, but for a completely different reason, he turned to the boys. "And where, " he stammered, "will I find Dauran?"

"This way, " the boys replied, and gamboled ahead of him. Several adults shot them suspicious looks, and a few kept half an eye on the gaggle of boys as they passed.

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan, Piosenniel and Bird climbed through the circles of the city. After a brief lunch at an inviting inn (roasted meats, fresh bread and vegetables!), they began making discrete inquiries of various guards and officials that they came across as they walked along the streets.

Afternoon found them waiting in the offices of the King's Treasurer, a handsome but officious gentleman named Ardamir. They waited nearly an hour, but were eventually escorted into his cluttered office. Ardamir ignored them for a moment as he perused a scroll, then looked up and spoke. "Yes? Yes? What is it? What to you require of me?"

Mithadan smiled and introduced himself as a trader and captain of a vessel that plied the seas seeking profit. Piosenniel he introduced as an Elf from Lindon and Bird as a representative from a town in the North. After exchanging some half-hearted pleasantries, Ardamir again asked what their errand was.

"We seek the assistance of the King," replied Mithadan. "In a matter of some importance and urgency and are prepared to pay handsomely for such assistance." At this Bird choked, and when Ardamir turned to her with a frown, she feigned a cough and smiled. Mithadan continued. "Far to the north, a great storm struck the coastlands and a town was inundated by the waves. Its people were rescued by ships out of the Grey Havens; a task with which I assisted. But its people are now homeless and ruined. I seek the King's assistance in relocating them to the lands to the north of Rauros on the Anduin where it is said that there is room for many to settle."

Ardamir snorted. "Why should the unfortunate loss of a town to the north concern the King of Gondor? And if these people are homeless and ruined, how shall they pay for the assistance which they seek?"

"The benevolence and power of King Ciryandil is legendary throughout the Northlands," replied Mithadan. "And as for payment, I will bear the cost out of pity and charity."

Ardamir looked askance at Mithadan and his companions as if weighing the worth of their words and the clothing they wore and finding them wanting. He fingered a fine gold chain which he wore about his throat and asked simply, "With what?"

Mithadan smiled and drew forth the black box which he carried and, turning it to face Ardamir, opened it. The treasurer first squinted at its contents, then his eyes grew wide. Mithadan closed the box and returned it to its place under his cloak. "Where did you find these things?" demanded Ardamir. With a broad grin, Mithadan responded, "I shall tell that tale to the King if you will..."

[ December 11, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Shoving and jostling through the crowds, the boys pushed towards the stall that belonged to Dauran, the trader.

Gilthor stared over at the cloaked figures of Gamba and Kesha. ”How old are you?” He barked, “ Maybe seven or eight?”

“Old enough, and big enough.” Kesha growled under his breath.

“Look, I don’t care how old you are. But if Dauran thinks you’re little, he might not trade fair. Let me handle it. I’ll take a cut.”

Kesha and Gamba eyed each other dubiously, then shrugged their shoulders. “Alright, we’ll be watching,” Gamba promised.

Dauran and Gilthor haggled back and forth and finally agreed on a price for the rope. Then, the trader handed Gilthor a large pile of copper coins. The boy started to push most of them into his own pocket, and offered Gamba two small pennies.

“No fair,” Phura objected.

“Sorry that’s my cut.”

The tallest boy who’d said nothing the whole time now stepped forward. “Gilthor, give them the coins. Keep two for yourself.”

“Brodda, whose side are you on?”

“I know what’s right. Give them the coins.” Brodda stopped and raised his fists.

“Alright, here they are,” Gilthor shot back, spewing the coins across the ground with a quick flick of his wrist.

As Kesha and Gamba scrambled to retrieve them, the boys' cloaks fell away for an instant revealing two pairs of very large feet, one green and webbed and the other quite furry.

Everything broke loose at once. Gilthor and his two friend hurled themselves at Gamba and Kesha. The boys wrenched away and began running down the aisle of stalls, slipping in and out between the other customers, with Brodda following immediately behind.

Gilthor's voice rang out over the marketplace as he shouted at Dauran, “But that fellow did have green, webbed feet, and the other one looked like a rabbit. They’re dangerous. You should get them.”

“Sure lad,” the trader laughed, “And you have a pointed head and twelve fingers. Now get going.”

After the trio had made their escape, Brodda guided them into an alcove. “Take my advice, both of you. Use those pennies to buy shoes.”

“You’re not going to tell on us?” Kesha asked, with eyes wide and frightened.

“No, my father hails from the North. He’s told me many stories of Woodland Elves. They're different, and you're different too. I don’t know what you are, but you're not bad.”

“Follow me. I'll find you some old shoes. Then we'll go to the Inn together.”

Kesha turned to Gamba and grinned broadly. “We’re right behind you, Brodda. Keep going.”

*********************************************

Cami had spent a leisurely afternoon, swopping stories with Andril and dreaming about the road that lay ahead of her. So Gamba hoped to go to Greenwood. Cami smiled. Ancalimon had warned her to steer well away from Rivendell, yet never actually stipulated where the hobbits should head, or who their helpers might be.

Cami hated to admit that the boy's stubborn insistence on Greenwood might actually have something behind it. Not an easy place to live, she thought. Full of beauty and trees! But there would be less pleasant things making their way into the forest in just a few years. Hopefully, they'd have time to organize and plan before dealing with anything like that.

Cami was wondering if she had the energy to walk down to the galley to round up some food when, suddenly, Phura pushed his head inside the doorway, a haggard look upon his face.

"Azraph and I, and Kali and Daisy, have searched this ship twenty times. Others have helped us. We can't find my brother or Kesha anywhere.

"That's not possible!" Cami's fingers stiffened. "We pulled the gangway up to be sure everyone stayed on board. I saw the boys leave the main deck to go below. It doesn't make sense."

Phura shrugged his shoulders, worry surging over his features, "Maybe not, but then where are they? When I talked with Roka, all he would say is that Gamba promised him a treat."

A treat?....something clicked ominously in Cami's head. Just yesterday, she'd talked with the boy about the sights of Minas Anor, including the amazing number of treats that could be purchased in the central market. And, as far as figuring out a way to leave the ship, that hadn't posed any difficulty for either of them when they'd gone on their late night swims.

Cami grabbed Phura's arm and pulled him down the ladder to the deck where the supplies and storage bins lay right next to a series of small doors that could be unlocked to offload provisions once the ship docked in a port. One look at the tangled mess on the floor with the doorway still gaping open told Cami everything she needed to know.

"Let's go. I'll come with you," Phura was about to leap out of the ship onto the dock below."

"No!" She shook her head fiercely. "None of the hobbrim can be seen in Minas Anor. You know what Ancalimon said. I'm sorry Phura, but you just can't do that."

He pulled back with reluctance, but had to acknowledge she was right. Cami quickly responded, "I'll go. I think I know where the boys headed. I hope so anyway."

"You can't go by yourself!"

"I won't. I promise. I'll get Bird or Pio or Mithadan to help me." She sounded more confident than she felt.

"How will you do that?"

"Don't worry. Leave that to me. Phura, get my bow, and your large cloak to cover me. Also go to Pio's chamber and bring two of her large daggers that lie there on the table." Cami hoped the Elf would forgive her boldness in this, but she felt she had little choice.

Cami quickly exited the Star the same way the boys had done and hurried along towards the central market. Leaning against the large oak that guarded the entrance to the plaza, she whispered fiercely inside her head, Pio, Bird, Mith, someone, help me. We've lost Gamba and Kesha. They're wandering around Minas Anor. Meet me at the entrance to the central market as quickly as you can.

She stood and waited, hoping and listening for an answer, hesitant to strike out on her own in a world that had not seen a hobbit for over 4,000 years.

[ December 12, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

The Man was pleasant enough to look at, she thought, but he had such a dull and officious personality that she thought him capable of dropping a frenetic midge at twenty paces. Pio pulled a handkerchief discretely from the sleeve of her gown and held it to her mouth as if to delicately cover a cough. She was bored to tears already, and chafing in the unwieldy clothes she had worn. Turning her head while Mithadan and Ardamir engaged in politesse and finesse, and jockeyed for just the right balance so that both would get what they wanted, she yawned widely under cover of linen and lace.

Bird, sitting to her side, placed her arm behind her as if to pat Pio on the back, and pinched her hard on the back of her arm. Pio blanched and covered it with a smile. If you do that one more time, I will rip the offending fingers from your hand! she thought.

Sit still, Elf! I’m just as bored as you are, and you don’t find me yawning in our host’s face. returned Bird, though this stern statement was impishly followed by the briefest of images – a neekerbreeker crawling on the collar of the King’s Treasurer, and about to bite the lovely lobe of his ear. A cough suspiciously resembling a giggle escaped the Elf.

They had just gotten to the place in the negotiations when Mithadan had hauled forth the box and shown the treasured blades of Númenor to the official, when she felt a strong tug at her attention. She looked at Bird, but she was staring into the box along with Ardamir. Pio sent a focused call out toward the source of the tug.

Who calls me? She leaned forward attentively, appearing quite interested in the treasures before her, as her mind sought the other voice. And now she heard it, faintly at first and then stronger. A frantic calling – Cami!

Pio pulled in the other woman’s call and responded that she heard her, asking what was wrong. The story of the missing Kesha and Gamba and the probability that both of them had come into Minas Anor seeking to buy treats came tumbling helter-skelter from Cami’s mind.

Wait for me at the entrance to the market. I will come directly. she sent strongly back to Cami.

Pio thought quickly, then bent over double and gasped as if in pain. ‘The Lady seems in some distress, perhaps we should continue this another time.’ said Ardamir in concern, both for the troubled female before him, but more at the thought these treasures would fall through his hands. ‘Please do not stop on my account.’ said Pio, who had now raised her face to him, pale and wan. ‘I only need some air, if you will. The twins are active today and have kicked their mother quite strongly in the ribs. If Bird would be so kind as to walk a little with me in the hallway, I will be fine.’

She laid her hand on Mithadan’s arm and sent him a tight quick reprise of the urgent plea from Cami. ‘Please do go on and see the King about getting the needed ships, with the assistance of this dear man.’ She nodded at Ardamir. ‘I will be fine, Bird will see to it.’

The men stood as Bird assisted Pio from the room. ‘By the One!’ Bird hissed quietly at her. ‘What was that little drama all about? Those babies aren’t big enough to kick fleas yet.’ Pio leaned on Bird’s arm for the benefit of the guard at the doorway, and maneuvered her quickly into a side hallway, where no extra eyes or ears were lurking. Straightening up, she pulled the other woman close and told her what Cami had said. ‘We have got to get down there to meet Cami and haul those Hobbits back to the Star before there is more trouble than we can handle.’ said Pio, gathering up her skirt for quicker movement.

She led the way to the exit as fast as decorum would allow, Bird in tow.

[ December 12, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan maintained a pleasant expression upon his face as Bird and Piosenniel left Ardamir's offices. But he too had heard Cami's sending and was quite concerned. He doubted that the Halflings would come to any harm in this city but did not relish the thought of explaining away their existence to some suspicious captain of the guard.

To Ardamir he said, "The travails of women. Little enough do we understand them." Ardamir chuckled knowingly. Then he lifted a book and leafed through its pages. "I am due to meet with the King briefly at sunset," he said. "I would be pleased if you would meet me here one hour before and you shall accompany me at that time. I shall bring a scholar learned in history and artifacts and we shall discuss your prayer for assistance and proposed method of payment with the King."

The two exchanged a few more pleasantries, then Ardamir escorted Mithadan from the offices. As the door closed behind him, Mithadan broke into a run and proceeded down through the circles of the City...

[ December 12, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Birdland]

Birdie had been enjoying herself throughly, playing the role of ambassador with Mithadan and Pio. It had been hard to find any Elven finery on the ship that would fit her smaller stature, but the women-folk of the Star had managed to put together a very fetching ensemble. And though in a few places they had to rely on the placement of a few pins to shorten or tuck in some dangling hems, the little skinchanger had been quite pleased with her new robes and upswept hair.

Now while a change in form could come in very handy, especially when one had to fight or flee, a change in dress could have definite advantages as well. Bird had glided regally beside the splendid figures of Mithadan and Piosennial, trying to absorb some of their reflected glory and drawing herself up to appear as tall as possible beside them.

She was not unaware of of the few appreciative looks from some of the courtiers and captains they passed on their way through the city; though most glances lingered on the lovely form of the Elf-woman, not a few had turned to the more human, assessible figure of Bird, and she chose to reward a few with a slight inclination of her head and a what she thought of as her hint of a "regal smile". It was all quite heady, and Birdie was relishing her play-acting as "a fine lady".

But when they arrived at their destination, the glamor started to wear a little thin. The droning, diplomatic tone of the negotiations between Mithadan and Ardamir were starting to make Bird's head feel thick and foggy, and the weight of her upswept hair had started the hint of a headache. Also, one of the pins in her gown had worked loose, and it was all Birdie could do to resist not reaching under her robe and scratching. Mith and the city representative talked on and on, and not so much as a glass of wine or a small cake were offered to them.

Pio's sudden "attack" had come as an almost welcome relief, and Bird solicitously led the Elf-woman out of the room, trying hard not to favor a foot that had gone asleep from sitting for so long. But she was not at all happy to hear the real reason for their retreat from the council room.

"Those wooly-pated little gad-abouts!" she hissed angrily, then turned and offered a demure smile and a polite refusal to a servant offering assistance. When he was gone, she continued with her rant. "What were they thinking? Taking off into the middle of this city as if they were taking a stroll in a meadow? If this is the way they are going to behave here in Middle-earth, we'll be lucky to have any Halflings left by the end of the Third Age. They'll have all been killed off by their own stupidity!"

As Bird followed Pio down the hall, trying not to scuff her delicate slippers, she muttered crossly to herself "This little rescue mission better not cause me to ruin my dress!"

[ December 12, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[piosenniel]

Once outside the building and below the top tier, Pio broke into a run, Bird trailing.

She paused briefly, hearing a string of protests and imprecations, and turned to see Bird's hair had now fallen awry, and one shoe was lost. She motioned her into the shadowed side alley between two tall buildings. 'Forget the finery, Bird. Fly, you fool! Find Cami in the large market place.'

Pio ran on, throwing all fashion caution to the wind, and soon stood panting by Cami's side. She gave cold looks to passerbys who glanced disdainfully at her state of dissaray. 'Tell me what they were looking for, Cami. Then I'll know where to start looking.' The Hobbit looked askance at her, her brow furrowed.

'I've been here, once or twice.' she said simply. 'Now tell me, what would they be seeking. What might those two have to trade . . .?'

[ December 13, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami listened to Piosenniel's questions and struggled through her brain to find something, anything, to say in response.

To be truthful, Cami had no idea what the boys had pilfered from the pile to take to market. There were heaps and heaps of supplies, and she would have no way of knowing exactly what was missing. Nor did she have the slightest idea where the two had gone after they'd made their trade.

She stammered out, "Give me a minute, Pio. Just a minute. Let me think."

The crowd was thick near the gates, and one or two stared pointedly in their direction at the sight of two women with their skirts askew standing beside a tiny cloaked figure who appeared to be a child. Cami tugged her hood further down over her eyes and wriggled her toes uncomfortably inside the boots she'd 'borrowed' from Bird's closet. The boots were several sizes too small for Cami's generous feet, and were making her life miserable. Perhaps she should have borrowed a larger pair from Mithadan.

At the thought of Mithadan, Cami cringed and shrank further down into the shadow. She could not imagine what the Man would say if his audience with King Ciryandil was interrupted by the unfortunate news that a riot had broken out in the city, caused by the antics of two very small strangers with very large feet who'd come from over the sea. Gamba certainly had a knack for getting into trouble!

At that instant, just when Cami was ready to concede defeat, she heard a commotion coming from inside the gate. Someone was approaching, with a shrill, discordent voice that rang out above the throng. A boy had grabbed onto the arm of a City Guard, and was pulling him through the archway, out of the marketplace, with two lads in tow.

"I tell you, sir. One of them had great webbed feet--green they were. And the other looked just like a rabbit."

"That may be so, lad," the guard replied, "But Minas Anor has no laws that says anyone's feet must be a certain way!"

"But, those two are thieves," the boy charged. "They stole a whole stack of money that Dauran gave me. Just ask the trader. He'll tell you."

"You're sure of this?" the Guard sternly intoned.

"Very sure. And they're with a scoundrel, so I've got a good idea where they're headed."

With that, Gilthor turned abruptly towards the harbour, with the Guard and two boys following close behind. Not the new harbor where their own ship was docked, but an adjacent section that was among the oldest in the city. More respectable citizens of Gondor tended to avoid that quarter of Minas Anor. Its buildings were regarded as creaky and uncertain, with some of them close to tumbling off into the waters of the River.

[ December 13, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

‘Sweet Stars! Those damnable imps are down in the dicey quarter, Bird!’ Pio rubbed the back of her neck, and looked down at her dress. ‘I cannot go in looking like this.’ she muttered, looking at Bird. ‘Stay here with Cami, for a few moments, while I rectify the situation.’

She swept her eyes about the market place, picking out a questionable looking sailor who looked well into his cups. Making her way toward him, she pinched her cheeks and bit her lips, and slipped her arm through his as he walked down the street. ‘Come, luv.’ she said low in his ear. ‘I have need of you.’ He went happily into the darkened space behind an empty market booth, thinking that this was indeed his lucky day. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, luv,’ she crooned to him, ‘but it is your clothes that I have the most need of.

Pio pulled him close and cracked him hard on the back of the head with the pommel of her knife. She laid him gently on the ground and stripped him to his small clothes and put his outer wear on herself. She threw her clothes over the man, and placed a silver coin in his fist.

Moments later, she stepped from the alley - a pair of dirty canvas breeches with a length of rope to hold them up; bare feet; loose homespun tunic with the remains of every meal for the last week wiped along its hem; and a cap greasy with sweat, her hair stuffed under it. Cami stepped back from her as she approached, and even Bird looked as if she were wrinkling up her beak from the stench.

‘Mithadan is coming Cami. Wait for him here. You really are not the type to be found down there. Tell him we have gone into the harborside, southwestern quarter, to the Broken Pikestaff. That’s where the ‘scoundrel’ and the other two are probably heading. It’s an old, falling down Inn, the sort that the guards usually give wide berth to – letting them sort out problems and disputes on their own. Those who wish to be “lost” go there.’ Cami looked at her friend, wondering at the untold history behind her acquaintance with this Inn. She reached beneath her cape and handed Pio the two long knives she had brought. The Elf's eyes gleamed in delight as she strappend them to her forearms, and placed the silvered knife she had worn, in her waistband.

‘Come on, Bird. We should go.’ Pio waved the jackdaw flying high above her on, and ran swiftly in the direction the guard and boys had taken, using the hidden and shadowed backways. She wished to reach the Pikestaff before the guard could make his inquiries . . .

[ December 12, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami listened quietly to what Pio had to say. Yes, of course, someone needed to stay and give Mithadan instructions so that he could join them. And no, she wasn't the "type to be found down there.

But, no matter how sensible all this sounded, something inside Cami was not accepting Pio's order to stay and wait. She was not a child to be told what to do when her own son lay in danger. The old Cami might have shrugged her shoulders and looked away. The new Cami felt very differently. She struggled to explain to Pio why she had a responsibility to go, a responsibility that lay heavily on her conscience, but the Elf did not listen.

After Piosenniel and Bird departed, Cami proceeded to do the opposite of what her friend had asked. There was no doubt in her mind. If it had been a friend or comrade, she might not have questioned Pio's judgment. But Gamba was her son, the child of her heart. As his mother, she would not stay here when there was the slightest chance he could be hurt. After the twins came, Piosenniel would understand why she had to do this.

There was one other thing everyone had forgotten. Cami had lived in Minas Anor for over ten years. Her life focused on her young charges and on her obsession with sea-hobbits. She'd spent her free time doing just two things, scavanging the archives for sea-hobbit clues, and wandering through the older streets of Minas Anor, dreaming of what it would be like to live in another time and place. She knew every nook and cranny, every reputable and disreputable establishment, every path and small doorway that a hobbit could squeeze through, and she could make her way down the back alleys very quickly. Cami suspected the streets of the older quarters had changed little over the years.

Without hesitation, she hired a boy to remain near the gate and pass on directions to Mithadan. Just in case the lad ran off, she tagged a note onto the tree, explaining where they had gone.

Cami stuffed her curls under a cap, and paid a few coppers to a nearby vendor to secure ragged pants and breeches so she could pass more easily as a messenger boy. Then she scampered swiftly through the streets and alleys, taking every shortcut she knew, slipping underneath the throngs of big folk who crowded the streets and slowed traffic to a plodding pace.

[ December 15, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

"Wait, Brodda. Are you crazy? Not the front door..."

Brodda checked his stride and looked down at Gamba. "Let's have a look, " Gamba slowed him down, and surveyed the surroundings. "There."

"The kitchen? I don't want to run into the kitchen staff!"

"Trust me. Kesha, follow. Brodda, do what I tell you."

Brodda watched open mouthed as Gamba and Kesha melted into the kitchen practically under the noses of the cooks and waiters, and then beckoned to him. He shook his head.

Instead he went around to the front door, drew himself up to his full height, and bluffed his way in.

"Looking for a lady-friend at your age?" said a waiter. "Starting down a bad path early, aren't you?"

Brodda blushed, stammered, and muttered something about his money being as good as any older man's, and the waiter laughed coarsely and moved on. Brodda, trying hard not to blush and wondering what on earth he had gotten himself into, found an empty booth and wondered how he could make himself look less out of place. He wondered where on earth Gamba and Kesha had gotten to. But suddenly a quarrel broke out at one of the tables.

One man cuffed another. "Yer stole my drink!"

"I did no such thing, " replied the man, indignant and getting angry. "Why would I do that when I've for one of my own right here?"

"Becauise yours is empty, that's why, " the first snarled. The second man looked into his mug in disbelief, and then swung at the first. "Thief!"

"Aye, and a better one than you, " he replied, swinging. Someone threw a tub of soapy water at them. But a few tables over, an old man called, "Waiter, I asked yer to fill my brew! What did ye charge me for, and leave me empty?"

Brodda wondered in all this commotion, where was Gamba and Kesha; and he wondered all the more, when a painted, haggard woman made her way to his table and slyly said, "The waiter says you've come to lose your money. But I'm thinking I should send someone to find your mother."

How he was going to get out of this one, he had no idea. Where were those northerners with their furry and webby feet?

Another fight broke out across the smoky room. The waiters began to wonder where all the drinks were disappearing to.

*********************************************

Child's Post

After a hectic run through winding alleys, Cami reached the establishment known to local dockhands as the Broken Pikestaff. Under her arm, she carried a tray of pastries that she'd rescued from the local delivery boy with the help of a silver coin. Piosenniel's description of the Inn was accurate. In fact, "dicey" might be a more generous term than Cami would use for this dump, with its shady patrons staggering in and out, and a stench that was overbearing.

Cami hesitated before entering the building. Everyone towered over her, sporting an impressive array of weapons. She was counting on a single hope. As hardened as these men appeared, perhaps they wouldn't murder a child in cold blood. And, to their eyes, Gamba and Kesha, and even Cami, were just that--two boys out on a drinking spree, trying to act ten years older, with their bigger brother coming to find them in the course of his deliveries.

Cami could not see Bird or Pio, but maybe they'd be coming soon. She cautiously approached the rear of the Inn, and crept stealthily inside the kitchen, expecting to find the boys in the next room and make a hasty exit.

As Cami made her way forward without a sound, she heard grating voices coming from the front. She dodged back and waited, trying to figure out what was happening.

"What's this, Jacko? We've caught our thief." The man scooped up Gamba with a massive hand, holding him several inches off the floor. The boy still held an empty flagon of ale and looked quite sheepish.

"Yer right about that! What a scrawny 'un. How'd he put all that away?"

"He's got a helper, all right." The painted woman pointed towards the retreating figure of Kesha still half-hidden beneath his cloak.

"What'll we do with 'em?"

"Let's have some fun. Teach 'em some manners." He wrenched out his dagger and placed the point near Gamba's throat.

Cami stood petrified, uncertain what to do. She could not let this happen. With bravery born of desperation, she swaggered out, holding a dagger in her right hand. She tried to act as if she knew what she was doing.

The Innkeeper glared malevolently, "Another pipsqueak!" He spit on the floor. "We seem to be starting a nursery here. And that one," pointing to Brodda, "is probably with them."

Cami broke out with a string of invective, trying to imitate the Elf in her grimmer moments on the Star. "Leave them alone." she yelped. "They're my brothers. I've come to get them and drag them home. Then they'll get a beating! A real good one." At this point, she glared threateningly at Gamba.

"Sorry mate, these are ours. Now if you had some gold coins....."

"I do," Cami could not keep from shrieking. "I really do! Give me my brothers, and the coins are yours."

"I don't see those coins," the Innkeeper growled. "So maybe we'll turn you upside down and get that gold, and leave you sprawlng on the ground."

"No you won't!" Brodda spoke with quiet authority. "My father is captain in the Guards, and if they get hurt, I swear he'll come here and make you sweat."

There were grumbles and curses all around, but there was something in the way the boy talked that made the Innkeeper put up hi hand to halt the discussion.

"All right, where's the coins?"

Cami looked at the taller boy, and he shook his head yes. She reached into her tunic. It was every penny she had left from her meager inheritance. With this gone, she'd be broke. She put a handful onto the table.

The Innkeeper eyed her suspiciously. "You've got more. Let's see them, or you and your friends will wind up in the alley."

Cami ripped out the last of the coins and set them on the table.

"Now, get out of here. And keep your mouths shut about this."

Gamba mouthed the words 'thank you' to Brodda who nodded his head, coming over to stand by them.

Cami collected the boys, intending to leave quietly through the kitchen to avoid the unfriendly mob that congregated ahead. Gamba was still talking with the Innkeeper, pointing towards the things he'd brought in with him, which had somehow ended up on top of the bar. Cami tried several times to tug on the boy's sleeve to lead him away, but he continued talking. At one point, she leaned over and whispered, "Leave those things be. We need to got out of here. Worse will be coming." But Gamba stubbornly continued to talk.

[ December 13, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

The old Pikestaff looked as rundown as ever to Pio’s eyes. She slipped in quietly, adjusting her eyes to the low lighting in the room. Her nose wrinkled from the years old layers of soured ale, spilled wine, and Men’s unwashed bodies. ‘Or perhaps that is me, I am smelling!’ she laughed to herself. She slid into the shadows along the wall to her right and narrowed her eyes taking in the scene.

There they were, with some boy at their side, in deep conversation with the Innkeeper. Her eyes flew wide as she saw Cami there, dressed as a boy, and talking also. There were three objects on the bar that Gamba kept pointing to as he spoke, an old book she thought and something like a large flat stone with an engraving on it; and what was that other thing - a framed picture of some sort. He was arguing about something, and Kesha was standing on one of the bar stools, making comments of his own while glaring at the Innkeeper. The anger in the youngsters’ voices was escalating, as was the irritation in the face of Gareth.

She had just made up her mind to step forward and confront the Halflings, when the door to the Inn swung open once again and the Guard she had seen in the marketplace walked in, accompanied by the boy who had made the complaint of stealing. Brodda’s eyes went wide at the sight of the Guard and he tugged on the shirts of Gamba, Kesha, and Cami saying that they must get out of there and quickly.

‘Hold those boys!’ cried the Guard, seeing that his quarry was on the verge of escaping. He pointed with his cudgel at the two smaller Hobbits arguing with the Innkeeper. Gareth, for Pio had now remembered his name, grabbed the two firmly, by an arm each, in his big ham fists and hauled them up to the bar top, plunking them firmly down on their backsides. Brodda thought wildly for one moment that he still had time to escape, but he looked at his new friends about to face a City Guard and opted to stay by their side. He nodded at them, and Gamba looked back at him gratefully.

‘And what might you be wanting with these two?’ asked Gareth, eyeing the guard with suspicion. ‘Their brother’s paid the bill here, and we won’t be needing the likes of you.’ He preferred to take care of matters concerning the Pikstaff at his own discretion, without interference from the city. The guard cleared his throat nervously, noting the patrons, all hearty men of the sea, who had suddenly come to hem him in as he approached the bar. ‘There’s been a complaint.’ he said, ‘From Dauran, or so this boy says.’ He hauled Gilthor foreward. ‘He says that Dauran’s been robbed and these are the boys who did it.’

Brodda glared at Gilthor. ‘You’re nothing but a liar, Gilthor!’ he said, walking toward him, his hands balled into fists. ‘If anyone tried to steal, it was you that tried to cheat them out of the money Dauran paid them in trade for their wares. You’re only here to cause trouble because I stopped you from doing that!’ Gilthor backed away from Brodda and ducked behind the Guard.

‘Here! Here!’ came the deep voice of the Guard as he raised his cudgel to push back Brodda. ‘I think perhaps I had better haul all of you back to the market place and we’ll get this straightened out there.’ His gaze took in Cami, who was looking just as suspicious to him as were the other boys. ‘You,too! To my way of thinking you probably put them up to this.’ He stepped toward the trio, menacing them with his club. ‘Come along now!’

‘I think not, Sir.’ came the low voice from the smokey shadows. Pio stepped foreward, and strode to the bar. The faces of the Halflings blanched as they watched the rough figure come toward them. ‘They are mine, by right. Three runaways from The Star now at anchor in port. These two are cabin boys and she, their sister, works in the galley as cook’s helper.' She pulled off Cami's cap, showing her to be a girl. 'All sworn to the service of the ship and Captain for this one year voyage by their parents. I am the First Mate on the Star, and I have come to claim them.’

Gareth’s eyes went wide at the sight of her. ‘Pio?! Have you had a rough passage? You look a little the worse for wear this time.’ ‘Rough enough,’ she said, winking at him. ‘And now made rougher by these three.’ She came close to the Halflings and looked at them closely, smelling the tell-tale scent on their ragged breaths. ‘Drunk, to boot!’ she cried. ‘Surely the Captain will see you get a taste of the lash for this.’ She chuckled at the thought, an evil glint in her eye. ‘Loan me a length of stout rope, Gareth. I shall need to bind them to make sure they do not get away from me again.’

The Guard started to protest at this, but the seamen gathered round him and showed him the way to the door. A ship and her Captain always had first claim on the lives of its crew, they let him understand.

Pio securely bound their hands along the length of the rope – Cami at the end of it, with Kesha and Gamba in a line in front of her. The Elf led them, the rope grasped firmly in her hand, through the door, their heads hung down, their faces sullen. When they had gone a fair distance, and the Inn had receded round the curve in the street, Gamba called out to Pio. ‘You can let us go now, they can’t see us any more.’

She halted, and turned round to look them over. Her cold gaze froze any hope of release. ‘Let you go!’ she laughed. ‘And risk having to spend my time hunting you again. You are going back to the ship in my keeping and until Mithadan has negotiated the deal for ships - for your safe transport, I might remind you – I will be your very best friend, as close to you as the air against your skin.’ She drew her knife, testing its point against the palm of her hand. One drop of blood welled up, proving the sharpness of the point. She resheathed it saying, ‘If any of you, so much as approaches the ship’s rail or steps near the gangplank, I will pin you by the collar high on the ship’s mast until we are well away from port.’

They stumbled down the street after her. She smiled inwardly as she heard Kesha’s whispered question to Gamba. ‘Do you think she really means it?’ and Cami’s quiet response. ‘Best not to trifle with Pio. Once she has laid the rules down clearly to you, she means for you to abide by them.’

[ December 14, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

Mithadan's post:

As he approached the entrance to the Marketplace, Mithadan slowed to a jog. Nonetheless, he nearly collided with a young boy who leaped out in front of him with arms waving. "Are you Mithadan?" asked the lad. "Cami has asked that I give you a message. She said go to the Broken Pikestaff in the southwest quarter of the harborside." Mithadan thanked the boy and tossed him a few coppers. Then he turned and continued out of the city and down the road towards the port.

He did not recognize the name of the Inn, so he proceeded to the harborside and asked a passerby. The scowl he received when he mentioned the Broken Pikestaff spoke volumes. Alarmed, he began to run again, only to stop, trying to laugh between deep breaths at the sight of a chaingang of Halflings being led to the docks by a grim faced Piosenniel.

"I see that we have found our truants," he panted. "You are taking them to the Star?"
Piosenniel nodded with a half-concealed grin. "Very well," continued Mithadan. "But make haste. In an hour's time we are due to meet Ardamir at his offices and then proceed to the Citadel to meet with the King."

He looked at Pio's clothing and wrinkled his nose. "You will have to change before the meeting," he added. "And I am not going to ask where you might have come across the 'finery' you are wearing."

Piosenniel laughed at this. "That might be best," she confessed. They proceeded towards the docks.
-----------------

Helen's post:

They rounded a turn in the road, and were no longer in view of the gate or
the inn, and Cami said, "All right, Pio, you can take this rope off of my
wrists now."

Pio turned toward her with an arched eyebrow, and turned forward again.
Cami fumed.

A few moments later, Kesha heard a grumble from Gamba.

"What?"

"Snotspeckle."

"Ugh!" Kesha groaned.

Cami frowned. "Gamba?"

"Snot speckible ner tie up Nitter, lef or no lef. Nitter zerves speckt."

"Pio, stop." Cami wanted to hear what Gamba had to say, and the boy could
hardly walk and talk at the same time in his current condition-- which was
getting worse by the minute, Cami noticed. Four mugs of beer did this to a
sixteen year old hobbit male? she wondered, frowning.

But Pio did not stop.

"Gamba, how many drinks did you have?"

"Chumbes."

"What?"

"Chum... mmmm... mBunches."

"Bunches! I paid for four!"

"Old man share fumgle faffer fumgle."

"Pio, stop."

Pio kept walking. Gamba kept mumbling.

"Nice old man. Fumgle... mug... mug-full."

"I take it he didn't know he was sharing, " Cami replied irritably.

"Nice old man. Bud nidit work."

"Didn't-- what didn't work?"

"Srown dorrow. Still ere."

"What?"

"Sro... Ndor.. Drown sorrows. Sorrow still here."

"Pio!"

As if oblivious, Pio kept walking. Suddenly, Cami's eyes flashed, and in a
moment, she had planted her heels and leaned back with all her weight.
Gamba toppled backwards, and Kesha landed on top of him. Pio turned, eyes
flashing, and then she saw the look on Cami's face.

Bird saw it too. "Umm, hmmm. Hmmm." She took a step back.

The shock from landing flat on his back and being slammed immediately by
Kesha brought sudden clarity to Gamba's speech. "Old man saying one more
mug, drown his sorrows. Sounded good. So I kep having one more mug too.
But--" Tears started. Kesha rolled off of him.

Cami, hands still tied, leaned up on one elbow. "But what?"

"Still sad, " Gamba groaned.

"Sad about what?" Kesha asked.

Gamba shook his head, and looked at Cami. "Why nidnit work?" Gamba moaned.

She instinctively tried to reach for him, but her hands were still tied.
She glared up at Pio, and said, "You can untie me now, Piosenniel."

Pio opened her mouth to protest but Cami was having none of it. "Now."

"You weren't supposed to go to the Inn, " Pio said cooly. "I told you to
stay put."

"Oh. And I suppose under similar circumstances, Piosenniel would do Exactly
What She Was Told," Cami all but snarled, eyes blazing. "Untie this
confounded knot!"

Pio, her back up now, said nothing.

"Very well, " replied Cami. "But it will be a long walk back for you,
carrying the three of us. Or dragging us. Your choice." And with that,
she lay back down, motioning to Kesha. He did likewise. And Gamba was
already dead weight.

"Umm, " said Bird, cheerfully, "Looks like you and your prisoners will be
later than we thought. I'd best warn the Captain, " she said, morphing
into a crow, and flying off.

"Bird!" Pio gasped indignantly.

Gamba's stomach rumbled, and Cami asked him again. "How many mugfulls did
you have?"

Gamba counted on his tied fingers, "Gaahhh... Eight."

"Eight full pints??"

"Three...mmm...four pints, and shared nine other pints. Nine halves..." his
fingers were getting tangled.

Good heavens, she thought. "Gamba, right now, right this minute, I want you
to-- Kesha, turn your head." Pio, waiting stubbornly, watched in growing
horror as Cami told Gamba what to do.

"Ugh! By the One! Cami!" Pio grimaced as all eight and a half pints
violently resurfaced.

Cami hoped that the boy was too drunk to remember in the morning.

The smell got to Pio. She had planned to wait it out in a test of
wills with Cami, but with a snort, her patience evaporated completely, and she drew close to Cami. Her words hissed through clenched teeth.

"Listen, Halfling. Mithadan, Bird and I have an agreement to negotiate with the king of this city. We are doing it for the good of you and your people, despite all your best efforts to hinder us, " she spat with an icy glare at Gamba, and then she returned to Cami. "And here you lie, delaying us even now. If we miss the meeting, you can explain your stubbornness to Mithadan yourself. The destiny of your people hangs on this meeting; surely even you can see that. Now make your choice."

Thr fire in Cami's eyes did not die, but since she closed them, Pio did not know that. Cami lay still for a few moments more. Her heart, previously in turmoil, writhed and churned now like a hurricane at sea. And then she sat up, an turned to the two boys; her son, and his little brother who would soon depart.

With a great effort she mastered her own heart, subdued it, set it aside, and spoke to the boys.

"Kesha. Gamba. Get up."

Kesha's eyes went wide, and Gamba moaned. Cami motioned to Kesha, and they both awkwardly helped Gamba to rise. He was sick and dizzy and practically passed out, and he swayed trying to find his balance. Pio considered slinging him over her shoulder, but his stench deterred her, and she tugged on the rope.

Kesha and Cami helped Gamba along as best they could, and with relatively few stumbles they made it back to the ship.

By then even Kesha was angry.

[ December 16, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ December 16, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Returning to the Star, Cami quietly excused herself, went to her cabin, and locked herself inside, speaking to no one. She stayed there for the remainder of the afternoon.

At one point, Gamba came pounding on her door, but she told him to leave. Even through his haze and throbbing head, the boy thought he heard the muffled sounds of a hobbit crying.

When Cami failed to meet Andril for her regular healing rounds, the hobbrim went to speak with her. At first, there'd been no answer. But, after a while, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door, and then it swung ajar an inch or two. Andril pushed it open and went inside.

"Are you alright?" she whispered, taking Cami by the hand.

"I don't know. I thought I'd reached a point where I knew what was expected of me, and I was happy to do it. Now, I'm not sure."

She shook her head. "What a time for this to happen. Soon, I'll leave the Star. I'll be responsible for making sure the hobbits survive in difficult times. No one else here has that kind of burden. Yet I couldn't even get two boys out of an Inn."

Andril smiled, "Cami, it's a blessing, this thing you fear. The hobbits escaped Numenor and live. That's why we have this chance. Ancalimon would never have asked you to help unless he felt it was right."

"Perhaps, but I have no idea how to deal with Gamba."

"Gamba? That was a childish prank. And Kesha is a hobbrim. He's no better."

Cami shook her head. "Maybe, but it's not just Gamba. It's all of them."

"How do I explain this?. I know enough to keep us safe, but only if the hobbits show the common sense and caution I'm used to seeing at home. Sometimes, I think I'm back in the Tombs battling the guards."

Andril looked puzzled and asked Cami what she meant.

"For a long time, the Guards made our decisions. We had no choice but to obey. Now, we're free, but it's as if we lost a piece of ourselves, that ability to 'think like a hobbit,' to know when to stick our necks out and when to blend in and disappear."

"That's what I see missing in Gamba, and the others. When I told him to stay on board and tried pushing him out of the Inn, he had no idea why I was urging caution, and I don't think the others would either. The hobbits say they're free from the Tombs, so they can do whatever they want. Only life doesn't work like that, not in any Age."

"It's strange. Elves and Men pride themselves on their ability to think. But they really don't need it, not the way we do. They've twice our size and strength, and can beat down enemies with threats and weapons. We're the ones who must use wits to survive because that's all we have."

"In the place where I was born, the hobbits decided to ban Men from their community. The King couldn't even set foot in our lands. Since I have been on the Star, I have wondered if that wasn't too extreme. I began to believe that it was possible for big and little folk to join in friendship and common endeavors, with respect for each other."

"But now I am beginning to question that. Maybe, it is only on a haven like the Star that this can happen. Once we return to Middle-earth, as we are doing now, all the old feelings and dilemmas come back. Perhaps, the only way hobbits can be granted respect is to throw off the help of others who, however well meaning, make decisions for us. And, if that is so, then we must look immediately for a separate path, at least until the time when those things change."

Andril sighed, "I can't answer that. My own people are safe on Meneltarma, where no others dwell, so we don't have these difficulties. But I think you should wait a day or two before taking any action to make very, very sure of what you are doing."

Andril looked into Cami's grey eyes, which still held deep shadows. "There's something else, I think."

"Maybe," Cami replied, "but there's no good discussing it. It doesn't change anything, and I'll be leaving soon." She went to her satchel and began fiddling with her things.

As she fiddled, she talked, "I went to the Inn because I was afraid for my son. What no one understands is that, two days from now, the Man and the Elf and the shapechanger will be gone, so I'd better learn to do things on my own. Except for Piosenniel, I am older than any of the crew on the Star, and among my own people I am accounted a 'wise woman.'"

"Yet I manage to end up in a chain gang with two children whom I was trying to help, with the entire population of Minas Anor, and the Star, staring at me. I have seen many big folk blunder on the Star, or fail to carry out a task, but never has anyone been thrown into chains. Just once, I'd like to be twelve feet tall. Just once, I'd like to trade places and see how others felt." Her voice faded away.

Andril wrapped her arms around Cami, pulling her head onto her shoulder. "There is little we can do about that, and I'm sure it was a jest. Too many on this ship have given too much for there to be hard feelings. It will look better in the morning. But if you're still this angry, you'd best speak with Pio or Mithadan."

"Perhaps," Cami agreed, "although, right now, I am too angry and tired to speak with anyone."

"I do have one suggestion on your other problem. If you fear the hobbits have lost caution, and can't make wise decisions, the answer is simple. You must teach them."

"How could I do that?" Cami questioned.

Andril smiled, "But you already know, the same way you did in the tombs. You talk to people, have them listen to your ideas, and hear what they say in turn. Then you decide together."

Andril looked intently at Cami. "Have you talked with anyone besides Gamba about where you'll head along the Anduin? Or how you'll find food, or shelter? Have the hobbits started thinking about those things?"

"Cami, you complained when others treated you without respect. But aren't you doing the same thing? You're not the only one who bears the burden of hobbit survival. That burden belongs to every member of the community, and the sooner you share it out, the happier you and the others will be."

Cami looked hard at Andril. What she was saying, as far as it applied to her own people, made a great deal of sense. And perhaps Andril was right about the other as well. If she still felt this way tomorrow, she would go and speak to the Elf. And she would certainly need to talk with Gamba as well, once his head had cleared out a bit.

If things could not be resolved, one way or another, then she would have to think very carefully about the path ahead.

[ December 14, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Once back on ship, Pio ushered Cami and both the boys back to their rooms. She drew up the gangplank and sent for Daisy and Kali to come to her. They looked askance at her as they approached and moved to stand up wind. ‘What happened to all that finery you left in?’ asked Daisy, wrinkling up her nose. ‘You really did look quite nice.’ Pio laughed at this statement. ‘I think I am not meant for such trappings, Daisy.’ She picked up the hem of her soiled tunic and smiled. ‘This served me well enough for what I needed. Pity the poor sailor who wakes to find my dress covering him and a silver coin in his hand.’

She told them what had happened and how the three were now safely back on the ship. ‘I must be back at the meeting with the King in less than an hour. I need your help in this matter.’ Both the Hobbrim stepped forward, saying they would help in any way they could. She outlined the conditions she had laid down for the three she had brought back, saying that she wished no further interference from any of them. There were some delicate negotiations to be got through with the King and his ministers before they could secure the ships for safe passage to Rauros Falls. Mithadan must be allowed to have his full attention on this without worry that some Hobbit or Hobbrim would be causing trouble in the city. She, herself, would stay to keep things in order on the ship, but Mithadan had asked that she accompany him, and she would put him first.

‘Will you stand in my stead, the both of you?’ She regarded them both closely, making more of a statement than asking a question. ‘I would have this meeting with the King go smoothly.’ Both Kali and Daisy nodded in the affirmative, and Pio gave them instructions on what they were to do. ‘I will be back directly after the meeting, any problems that arise, deal with them in any way necessary to keep the Hobbits hidden on the ship. I will treat further with those who chose to contravene my wishes when I return.’ Kali and Daisy both took note of the seriousness of her statement to them and agreed to keep the passengers on the Star under their watchful eyes. ‘We will stand in your stead, Lady Piosenniel.’ said Daisy, a smile of remembrance playing about her lips.

Pio ran quickly to her room and stripped her clothes off. She washed herself with clean smelling herbed soap, and lathered her hair twice to rid it of the smell of the sailor’s greasy cap. Satisfied, she dressed hurriedly, but this time for her comfort and not for show. A soft, dark blue velvet tunic over black leggings. Her boots of soft leather cleaned and rubbed as she could to a muted gleam encased her legs to her knees, and into the tops of them she snugged her knives against her calves. About her waist a belt of Dwarven silver shone, set on the buckle with mother-of-pearl that winked and moved in the light like the surf playing about the shores of the Falathrim. Two long knives in fine worked leather sheaths hung from it. Over it all she flung her grey cape. And on her brow a slim band of mithril worked with twined leaves of holly. She would be every inch the Elf as she presented herself to the King.

She strode quickly from the dock, and worked her way in haste to the seventh tier of the city, where she was to meet Mithadan and Bird. The crowds in the passageways drew back from her and made way for her. There was a clear light which shone in her eyes, and she moved with a purpose that even the guards at the final turning could not deny, but ushered her through, whispering to each other that one of the Eldar had come to grace the King with her presence.

Mithadan smiled at her approach, regarding her with great affection. At his side was Bird. She had managed to pull her outfit back together, and though her hair now hung down about her shoulders, it gleamed in the light of the sconces, and there were many side glances from the passing courtiers at this fetching and mysterious lady.

Ardamir also stood near them, waiting to usher them in to the meeting with the King. He stepped forward as she approached and inclined his head to her. ‘My Lady, you have recovered as I can see.’

‘I thank you for your concern, Ardamir.’ She said, smiling at him. ‘Now come, let us go in to the King, if you will. I would see Ciryandil and what sort of King he has grown into.’

The Minister led the way through the tall doors to the hall, Mithadan at his side. Bird entered next, while Pio brought up the rear, her eyes taking in the surroundings. The King stood, his back to them, at a low table, looking over a large map spread before him. As the doors closed behind them, he turned . . .

Mithadan's Post:

Ciryandil was tall as was the wont of descendants of the Kings of Numenor. His hair was dark as the night sky and silvered at the temples. Lines of care ran across his brows and at the edges of his eyes which were clear and grey. He wore a dark blue cape over his black tunic and leggings and on his brows rested the Star of Anarion.

Mithadan dropped to one knee and, after a moment's hesitation, Piosenniel and Bird followed suit. The King stepped forward and said "Rise" in a deep voice and gestured that they should be seated at the table. Servants brought chilled wine and a platter of breads and cheeses. When all had been served and formalities exchanged, Ciryandil addressed Mithadan and his companions.

"I am told that you come before me on a mission of mercy," he said. "And that you seek not charity but aid in exchange for fair payment. I would hear your tale and the aid which you seek."

Mithadan spoke, addressing the King respectfully and with the proper formalities. At length, he repeated the story he had told Ardamir, embellished with comments concerning the large number of children among the refugees.

Ciryandil nodded gravely at the tale. "Grievous indeed is such a calamity," he said. "And I doubt not that my brethren to the North lack the resources to succor the affected. Yet you ask much of me at a time when my resources are strained as well. I am told that you do not appear here without means. How do you propose to pay for the aid you seek? And how many are the refugees of this tragedy?"

"Nearly five hundreds must be relocated," replied Mithadan. The King's brows rose at this and Ardamir's eyes grew wide. "But we do propose to pay for my Lord's aid. With these..." Mithadan again drew forth the black box from under his cloak and opened it so the King could view what it contained. Like Ardamir had earlier, the King's eyes widened upon seeing the contents of the container. Then he looked to his treasurer and the man seated next to him. Mithadan presumed this was the scholar Ardamir had spoken of before.

Ciryandil turned the box around so that the others could see its contents. Within it were six daggers, finely wrought with hilts plated with gold and adorned with jewels. But the blades themselves were of mithril and each bore a name upon it; the names of various Kings of Numenor. Bird gasped and leaned forward to see the daggers more clearly.

The scholar leaned forward with trembling hands and lifted the blade bearing the name Tar-Elendil. He examined it closely for many minutes, turning it over and over in his hands. Then he drew forth a small pick made of steel and scratched it against the blade. It left no blemish upon the mithril. He replaced the blade reverently back into the box and addressed his King.

"My Lord," he said. "The name was set in the Mithril during the weapon's forging. Mithril cannot be engraved in this manner. The art of doing this is lost to us now. These daggers are authentic."

"How came you upon these treasures?" Ciryandil asked Mithadan. The Man smiled and replied with head held high. "I am a mariner, my Lord. I have travelled far upon the waves of the great sea. And one day my vessel came upon a small island and I would not have thought twice about bypassing it except that on its rocky shores could be seen the ribs of an ancient shipwreck. Curious, I approached but little remained of the unfortunate vessel. Yet in the sands which filled its rotting belly, I found these six blades and I took them up and carried them away when I left the island."

Ciryandil thought for a moment. Then he looked Mithadan in the eye and said, "500 refugees will require more than 20 vessels with threir crews. You will need food and provisions for their journey and weapons and tools to aid them. I think that these daggers would adequately cover the cost of this expedition..."

Pio's Post:

Pio watched as the scholar turned the blades lovingly in his hands. They were beautiful, indeed, she thought and their worth far more than the twenty ships and supplies they would receive from the King. But ships and food and provisions were what they needed at the moment and these were the means to obtain them.

The King had directed his Minister of the Treasury to work out the finer details of the exchange with Mithadan. The pair stood apart from the small group, now, working through what needed to be done and when, while one of Ardamir’s clerks wrote furiously, keeping track of what had been agreed upon. It looked to be a long discussion.

Pio strolled about the room looking at the few pieces of artwork which decorated the walls. One drew her attention, and she stood before it, looking at it in detail. It was a large tapestry, finely worked, depicting one of the great victories of Gondor - the sailing of her great navy from Pelargir, south to Umbar , ending in the taking of that area from the Black Númenóreans.

‘That was a time when fortune shone on us.’ came the deep voice behind her. She had not heard him approach, so intent was she on the history laid out before her. ‘A great time for the Sea Kings of Gondor.’ she agreed, turning to see who had spoken to her.

He stood close before her, and she marveled at how well he had grown into his role as King. ‘That Sea King was . . .’ he began. ‘Your father.’ She finished for him, smiling. ‘Eärnil. A wondrous naval tactician, or so I have heard, to have defeated so fierce a foe and held the area against them for so long.’ His brow furrowed as she spoke, and a sudden memory niggled at the back of his mind.

‘You are the Elf from Lindon, or so my Minister said to me. Yet, I feel as if we have met already. How is this so?’ His keen grey eyes assessed her, lingering on the stray curls which brushed her shoulders.

‘I knew an Elven lady once, when I was very young. She was a visitor to my father’s court on a number of occasions. I remember finding her often in the library looking through the old books and scrolls. She always had time for a little boy of five as I was at that time. Always she would make time for us to play in the courtyard fountain, sailing ships and fighting great battles of our own.’ He laughed in delight at the memory. ‘Sometimes I would win, and she would tell me how one day I would be as great and able a Sea King as my father.’

He reached out to touch her hair, and then, thinking better of it, pulled back his hand. ‘She had hair much like you, dark and curling. Though, as I recall, it fell much further down her back than yours. Pio smiled at him fondly. ‘Lucky, indeed, the Elf to have had such a keen playmate and adversary as you.’

She saw Mithadan motion for her to come over to him. ‘I must go. My companion has need of me for the moment.’ She inclined her head to him, her eyes shining with delight. ‘It has been my great pleasure to speak with you, if even for so short a while.’

A smile creased his careworn face and he waved her off, watching as she walked away from him . . .


[ December 14, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ December 14, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Birdland]

Before they left the ship for their audience with the King, Bird had frantically tried to "pull herself" together, brushing down her surcote and gown and scrambling to find a new pair of shoes to replace the ones ruined in the "rescue mission". There would be no time to dress her hair again, which secretly relieved her), but she was fuming over having to go through all this, just before she was about to meet a king!

Thank the One that Elves have somehow figured out how to keep wrinkles out of cloth, else I'd never be ready in time! she fussed silently to herself. And at that moment she saw Gamba passing down the passageway. "Gamba, boy! Come here! I would speak to you a moment."

Gamba turned and shuffled back to Bird's room, head down and a sulky look on his face. He stood in the doorway, waiting for what he knew would be just another "lecture" from yet another "big folk", which he was growing very tired of hearing. Hoping to change the subject, he murmered "You look beautiful, Birdie. That dress looks very pretty on you."

"Well, I looked a sight better a few hours ago, and we all know who put an end to that, don't we?"

"It's not right!" Gamba sputtered angrily. "Pio didn't have to treat us like that. Leading us through the city like a lot of slaves. She embarrassed all of us, including Niter. She shouldn't have done such a thing."

"I'll grant you, Pio can get a bit carried away. The Ents would say even "hasty". Bird held up a hand to interrupt the young Hobbit. "Never mind about Ents. I'll tell you later. Let's stick to the subject. We all know who's to blame for any embarrassment caused to Miss Cami, now don't we?"

Gamba hung his head. "But the city was so beautiful. We just wanted to see it."

Birdie knelt down and took Gamba's hands in her own, noting how much healthier and strong they looked compared to the pale, thin hands of the Hobbit of the Tombs. "Gamba", she said. "All of Middle Earth is beautiful, and you will have a lifetime to see it. But it also is perilous, and if you don't remember that, your lifetime will be considerably shorter than need be."

"Did your years in the Tombs teach you nothing of the ways of Men, Gamba?" He looked down in sadness. "I thought that was just...well...there. I thought things would be different here."

"Well, take it from me. There not. Birdie sighed and squeezed the young ones hands tighter. "Gamba. You must listen. For the sake of your people, you must always remember: Men are not to be trusted! And your folk are going out there into a world full of them. The Elves will not help you, they are more concerned with their own affairs. The Dwarves will be the same. Your folk will have to deal with these matters themselves."

"As the Hobbits scatter throughout the world, they will discover one thing. Whatever they try to accomplish, where ever they decide to go, Men will be there to hold them back. Oh, not because they will actively hate you. At least, not most of them, but Men are greedy, and take whatever they can, thinking it is theirs by right. The rights of smaller folks will not give them pause for an instance."

"Oh, some of them will feel a little guilty about this, but they'll come up with all sorts of reasons to deal with that. They will say that the things they do are so much more important in the grand scheme of things. They will say that little folk like you are not much better than animals, and can't have the same rights as doughty Men. They will say since they are bigger, they need more room. They will tell themselves anything in order to justify the things they do. And on the whole, the Hobbits won't be able to do a thing about it. Men will run roughshod over them for many, many years. Until time and their own doings leave a small piece of Middle-earth abandoned, and Hobbits will have a place to call their own."

"But that is still many ages in the future. Right now, your folk are going out into a world where you will have to compete every day for the things you want and love. And you won't be able to do it with swords and feats of arms. You'll only be able to do it through stealth, and using your head."

"Now Cami knows just what you will all be facing. And she's that scared that she won't be able to do what needs to be done to get you all settled, and teach you what you need to survive. And your behavior today has just made her even more sure of that. Because she told you what you needed to do. And you wouldn't listen! She's expected to keep you all safe, but if everyone just goes off and does whatever they want to, that just won't be possible. She's crying right now. Crying because she just doesn't think her people are going to be able to make it here."

Gamba looked up with horror. His little jaunt had not seemed to be that much of a bad thing. He had certainly not intended to make Niter cry! What would Loremaster think of him now? And the picture Birdie had drawn of Middle-earth was far different from the one he had in his head. It seemed they were not headed into a paradise after all. He hung his head in shame. "What can I do, Birdie? How can I make it up to her?"

"Grow up, and grow up fast. You never had the chance to do that in the Tombs, bad as they were. But now you will have real responsibilities, and real choices. Cami needs the help of a man now, not the responsibility of another child. Stand by her. Support her. Show her that she can trust you to do the right thing. Not just for her, but for all your people." Bird smiled down at the young one" You'll grow to be a fine Hobbit, Gamba. Perhaps a leader of your people. And you will have a wonderful life, full of adventures, and sorrows, and joys. I almost envy you." Bird looked off, and murmered to herself "All the things you'll see, and all the things you'll do."

But then she shook herself and laughed. "But as for now. I have my own adventure to go on. For I am off to meet a King!" and with a swish of her skirts, she left Gamba to join Pio and Mith.

[ December 14, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Helen's Post

Phura came softly to Gamba's side and whispered, "I hear you've got quite a headache."

"Yeah, " Gamba whispered with an effort. Talking hurt.

"Sorry, " Phura said, gently laying his hand on his brother's arm.

"Yeah."

"What did you go and do that for?"

Gamba grimaced. "I thought... I wanted to see the place. I thought I wanted to find out what this new world of men was like. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

"Did you? What's it like?"

There was a long pause. Phura waited.

"I'm never going back."

Phura waited again.

"I hate it."

Phura waited some more.

"Seven of those horrible walls. I should have known."

"What? The circular walls?"

Gamba rolled over, and Phura heard him weeping. "They're all the same. All of them. Bird is right. One way or the other, we mean nothing to them. They either cheat us or they beat us up or tie us up or they sacrifice us. The round walls should have been a warning to me, and I was too stupid to see it."

Phura watched him quietly, and thought how much he had changed since Levanto's arrival at the tunnels-- and how little. "Mistress Nitir tried to tell you to stay put."

"She lived there. She said she liked it. That's why I wanted to see it, because she said it was a good place. But it's not. It's awful. And-- and if she was wrong about the city, then ... then what about the elves? "

Phura's eyebrows went way up. "The elves?"

"After what she did to us, I'm not sure I can ever trust an elf again. She worked so hard to free us. And then she tied us up again. And she was so mean to... to my mom."

"Come on, be fair. Remember what all the elves have done to help us. There's a whole fleet of them out there that have done nothing but help us for weeks and weeks. We can't blame them all for... for the ... for what she did to you."

"Bird says they're all the same. All the big people. So any elf would do it. Any of them would have tied us up. It's just what they do."

"I don't think Nitir believes that."

"Yeah, well, look what it got her."

Phura frowned, looking down at his brother, whose framework of belief had suddenly crumbled, and struggled to find something to say. Gamba no longer trusted men, elves, Piosenniel. And now he even doublted Nitir's judgement-- his own mother, Phura realised with a sinking heart. What did the boy have left?

Phura bit his lip, and suddenly his efforts to convince Gamba to follow the loves of his heart-- the elves, the forest-- did not seem so wise, and he wished desperately that his brother had become a hobbrim so that Phura could look after him. But it was too late. Had he been a fool?

He tried to think what Loremaster would have said, and something came immediately to mind. "Why is it that you could trust Nitir's love for the city and want to understand that, but you cound't trust her or try to understand her when she gave you a simple command, not to leave the ship?"

"Oh, stop talking like Loremaster, " Gamba said. But he wept miserably as he said it; and then he sat up painfully and slowly, and with an effort, threw his arms around his brother's neck.

Phura worked hard at his own self-control, and succeeded in hiding his own tears from his brother. But he was deeply shaken, and wondered if there was any way that he could possibly bring Gamba back to Meneltarma. He did not think there was, but he spent the rest of the day trying to think of one.

[ December 14, 2002: Message edited by: Helen (in the guise of Child of the 7th Age )]

[ December 16, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

Bird's eyes had widened in astonishment when she had seen the precious objects offered, then quickly she rearranged her features, hoping no one else in the room had seen her reaction.

But this gift should have bought more than safe passage for a few hundred refugees. The weight of the mithril in the blades should have been enough alone to buy the keys to the White Tower itself, along with the rest of city! These knifes would become a precious heirloom to the Kings of Gondor through the ages, used in ceremonies and seen on only the most special occasions. Bird wondered if the story of how the knifes were acquired would be remembered through the ages as well.

Now why did Mith not think to keep at least one of those knifes for himself? thought Birdie. He could have clad the Star in gold leaf with just the weight of the handle. Bird sighed. With just one of those knifes, the owners of the ship would have been set for life. No need to sail anywhere. Let others do the work.

But it was too late to say anything now. The case had been closed, and two guards were now standing on either side of the table, waiting to take the marvelous gift to more secure quarters as soon as the negotiations were over. I suppose Mith would have thought it a pity to break up the set. He would think like that. fumed Birdie with annoyance.

And just where had Mith found these wonderful instruments? Bird knew the story of the shipwreck was patently false. She had explored the waters around Meneltarma while the Star had sat offshore, and while she had seen many wonderful things lost in the waters around the island, there had been nothing like this. Could these knifes be an heirloom of Mith's own house? If so, she wondered that he could bear to part with them. I should have let Mith know about all those things I saw below the waves. she thought guiltily.

And yet, except for the gift of the loving cups for Pio and Mith's wedding, she had taken nothing. Now why was that? Those baubles just didn't seem important at the time she thought, though they seemed very important now. Perhaps the island protected its treasures in ways the little skinchanger could not understand.

Oh, well, the sea is full of treasures. I suppose if I have need of some, I can always do some exploring on my own. Though dolphins don't have pockets, so I couldn't carry much away, anyhow. Still...I wish Mith had kept just one of those knifes!"

[ December 14, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[piosenniel]

It was late when they had returned from negotiations wth the King and his Minister. The ship was quiet, most had settled down for the night. Daisy sat at the railing, near the gangplank, her legs propped up on the lowest rail waiting for them. Mithadan waved at her as he walked up the plank, and she stood, waiting for Pio to come on board.

‘Everything seems to be quiet, everyone on board just as they are supposed to be.’ She yawned widely. Pio thanked her and sent her off to her own rest saying she would see her tomorrow.

Mithadan and Bird had already gone below, and Pio followed after them, walking slowly down the steps. Thirsty, she stopped in the galley to make herself a small cup of herbed tea. Cradling the warm mug in her hands she inhaled the soothing scent of it. She sat, in the shadows of the galley now lit only by the feeble glow of one small lamp, and let her mind drift.

He did not see her when he came in to get a small glass of water. Her voice startled him when she called his name, ‘Gamba.’ He turned not seeing who had spoken, his eyes still adjusting to the shadows.

‘Pio.’ he spat out, once he had seen her, in a tone of such anger that she jerked back from the force of it, her eyes going wide at the raw emotion which hit her. He came toward the table at which she sat and slapped his hand down hard on it. ‘You had no right to do that to Kesha and me, and especially not to Nitir.’ His words battered at her as he laid out every accusation of wrong that had been simmering in him since she had dragged the three of them back to the ship. And when he was done, he sat down hard in the chair opposite her, his arms crossed over his chest, daring her to deny it. He was angry and ready for any challenge she might offer him.

What he did not expect was what happened next. She spread her hands on the table before her, and her face changed from grave as she listened to his words to one of great sadness. Tears fell from her eyes, splashing on the backs of her outstretched hands. She wiped them from her face with the sleeve of her tunic, then spoke softly into the air, her eyes seeing things beyond the Hobbit who sat now before her.

‘Soon you will part from us. And my dear friend, Cami, will be far from what small protection my hands can afford her. I had thought to look to you to take up this task for me, to share the burden with her of keeping all of you and herself safe in this wide and dangerous world. But I fear now that when she looks to you, you will not be there.’ She rubbed her face with her hands, smearing the teary trails on her cheeks, and gazed deep into his eyes. ‘There are so many perils that will meet you on your journey. What hope is there if she must face them all alone?’ Tears dropped again upon the table top.

‘Rail at me, if you must, Gamba. Oft times my actions are ill thought out, and harsh. I am not the most politic of creatures. But I love my friend, and it tears my heart to know that even in my brash way I cannot be there when she has need of me.’

She stood, wiping at her tears once more, and sighed deeply. Silently, then, she turned from him and went to her room, hoping only that dreamless sleep might claim her.

[ December 15, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami sat up in her bed, abruptly woken from sleep by disturbing dreams and images. She reached down and touched where the chains had wrapped around her wrists and ankles, lightly chaffing against her skin. She brought her shaking fingertips to her face and groped towards her cheeks, feeling the soft tears that fell unbidden even in sleep.

Where was she? Was she really here, safely hidden on the Star? Or was she somewhere else, long ago and far away? She remembered the night when she'd left Gondolin behind, with her arms bound in chains, not knowing that the Elf had died. The forced march held such bitter memories, in the ugly threats of Orc guards and the weeping of hobbits, as those who were elderly or unable to keep up slipped down to their deaths. Cami rubbed her wrists again, remembering how the lifeless bodies had dragged along the ground until the jailers brought their great swords to cut through the bonds, leaving hobbits sprawled along the trail as a grim reminder of their passage.

She shuddered and got up, unable to sleep, pulling a light cloak over her shoulders. Her own jailers were gone. Daisy and Kali had been cheerful enough to her, even talking through the closed doorway, but now they had left for bed, and she was free to roam.

Gamba was sleeping in Phura's cabin. She padded softly down the corridor until she came to his door, pushing it open and going inside. The boy was curled up on a pallet in a corner of the room, tossing and turning and muttering words in his sleep. She crouched down beside him and ran her fingers through his tangled curls.

I have no children of my body. You and Rose and the boys are the children of my heart. What must I do to protect you? To keep you from the threats of others and from your own lack of wisdom. I do not know.

Elbereth, Queen of heaven, I am no Elf. But perhaps you listen to the little ones as well. My people are small, and I am afraid. I do not know what path is right for us.

Then Nitir leaned over and pulled the covers over her child and kissed him softly on the head. She sang a simple lullabye in Westron, much as she had heard from her own mother. When Gamba finally lay quiet, she stood up and went out, wandering further down the corridor.

She came to the Elf's chamber and halted. Piosenniel would be alone, for Mithadan was up above keeping watch over the ship. No longer could they rely on the goodness of their neighbors as they'd done in Meneltarma. Instead, they must post guards, and look out with suspicious eyes on everyone who walked past them.

For one sad moment, Cami wondered why she hadn't chosen to be a hobbrim. Perhaps there was still some way that she could claim passage on a ship bound for the Blessed Lands. But that seemed unlikely. The last time she'd checked, hobbits weren't welcome there, at least not those like herself. In the West, surely, there were no chains or guards.

Cami leaned against the walls of the corridor and heard the sounds of the Elf pacing inside her cabin. Piosenniel must be up. She might as well confront her and tell her what she was thinking. Best to get it over as quickly as possible. By the morning, her courage and resolve might not be there.

She knocked softly on the door. She heard the sound of footsteps approaching and the handle being turned to let her inside.
Piosenniel stood in front of her with a weary expression, her face solemn and strained.

"We need to talk," Nitir's voice was hushed but firm as she sat down on the bed.

For a moment, it seemed as if the Elf would begin the conversation, but Cami gestured with her hand and shook her head, asking her to wait.

"Give me a moment to speak my mind, and then I will listen to whatever you wish to say."

"If I had spoken with you this afternoon, I would have shouted in rage at what happened today. There was no need to put me in chains, and to drag me through the city and especially in front of my own people. Surely you understood that. I was going nowhere, except back to the ship."

There was sternness in Cami's voice as she continued, "It was I who discovered the boys were missing and shared that information with you and Bird, because I trusted you to help. Now I wish I had acted on my own, and said nothing."

"Nor is there a need for you to make my decisions about where I go and what I do, without giving me a real chance to respond. Perhaps, you don't understand what happened at the market, but after the twins are born, you will."

"I know you well enough." Cami continued, shaking her finger for emphasis. "You would not leave your child in danger, even if that child was guarded by a twenty-foot troll. You would laugh at the danger and stride inside, and do whatever you needed to do."

"I am no Elf, but I, also, am not a child. I can not stride through the front door to fight as you might. But one way or another, I'll find the back entrance and figure out how to slip my child to safety. City Guard, or no City Guard, I would have gotten those boys back, even if you had not been there. And if that is not true, I have no right to be a leader. I should go back to the library and read books, and let someone else do the job."

Cami sat for a while saying nothing. She looked out the porthole to the city beyond. The tiny lights of Minas Anor were visible, full of promise and the threat of danger, at least for her own hobbit kin. Once again, she struggled to find words for what she intended to say.

"Pio, you're part hobbit yourself, and you and Mithadan and Bird have given more than any I know to save the hobbits from danger. When I heard how your husband had traded those treasured knives for ships, I was touched, even in my anger. You might have held onto them and earned a king's ransom for yourself. Your generosity and bravery know no bounds."

Cami looked over at the Elf and sighed. She had so many to thank for so much. That debt would never go away. Yet, sometimes, just sometimes, that debt made her feel uncomfortable. She pulled her thoughts back and continued.

"I know we couldn't have done any of this without you. But there is one thing you forget sometimes, perhaps because you're so much bigger. There were times on the Star when you and Mithadan would have failed if it hadn't been for hobbit wit and stealth and endurance and, in the end, hobbit blood."

"You must understand that my people and I have had enough of chains. Where another might laugh at what happened today, we see no jest. The reminders they carry are grim indeed. I do not wish to see chains again, not for myself or my kin."

Cami stood up and paced about the room, seemingly talking as much to herself as to her friend Piosenniel. "I promise you I will deal with my son on my own. I will speak to him tomorrow. He has much to learn, and he needs to learn it quickly. Without hobbit commonsense and caution, none of us will survive, and everything we did on the Star will be lost. I will not allow that to happen. These are my people, and I love them."

She sat a moment in silence, wondering whether she should even bring up the other concerns on her mind. Yet, she could not ask Piosenniel to be honest without extending that courtesy to her. Her words came tumbling out in all their blunt honesty, "Today, I even thought of suggeting to Mithadan that he leave the Men's ships here in Minas Anor. Then we could sail the Star back to the Cape, so the hobbits could walk overland to where we need to go, joining together and standing on our own feet without help from others."

"But such a scheme does not make sense. The trip would be long and hard for many. Hurt feelings are not the best way to decide things."

"From our own friendships on the Star, I know it's possible for big folk and little folk to respect and treasure each other. But how much of that camraderie can there be in Middle-earth itself, where so many look after their own interests and compete for what they want? I'm still not sure. I wish I knew. But perhaps even Varda herself could not answer that."

"So we will try again to make this thing work. I am not angry with you. I am only bitterly sad. And, even though, my years are far fewer than yours, today I feel very old indeed."

[ December 16, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

First the son, now the Mother. Heated anger from the one, cool reasoning from the other. This is what happens when you attach your life to others. Their concerns and problems spill over into yours, and oft times the results are disastrous and beyond control.

Pio rubbed her temples at this line of thinking, an unaccustomed headache playing behind her eyes. What a fool I was for ever thinking I could play this out aright. She blinked back tears that gathered now at the corners of her eyes. I am in it now, though, and deeply. I have no choice but to step up and see it done.

She sat down on the bed, while Cami spoke to her. The Elf’s face was an unreadable mask of forced composure. She listened carefully to each word the Hobbit spoke, and her mind read the emotions cached behind them. What she understood was that the friendship and affection that had been built between them over the long course of this journey, now stretched between them by a single, thin strand. Her unthinking action had brought them to this, and one false word or gesture on her part would snap it.

Cami had finished speaking, and a deep silence hung between the two women. Then Pio drew her down on the bed beside her. She knelt on the floor at the Cami’s knees, and taking her friend’s two hands in hers she kissed her inner wrists where the recent ropes had chafed the memories of those other, brutish chains.

Her grey eyes looked deeply into Cami’s and held her gaze, unwavering. She clasped both of Cami’s hands together in her own and laid her cool cheek against their warmth.

‘Would that I could undo that unthinking deed, but I cannot.’ she said softly. ‘I was wrong to do what I did. You are dearer to me than any friend I have ever had, and I have hurt you deeply. I am sorry.’

Cami made as if to speak, but Pio shook her head, saying, ‘Please let me get through what I need to say, before the small light of reason grows dim again.’

‘You are right in thinking that I have not always seen you as capable of taking care of yourself in this wide and dangerous world. It is a conceit I bear as one of the First-Born and because I have lived through too many ages and seen how even reasoning creatures prey upon what they consider the lesser. I have been guilty of that myself.’

She sighed. ‘I would take care of you . . . all of you, that is what I came back to do. It is only with great difficulty that I can think of stepping back to let you make your own decisions, decide your own actions. Especially true is this for those I hold dearest.’

‘You think I do not understand why you did what you did when you stepped in to protect your child from danger. I do understand it. That is one of my faults, if not my greatest, I think of you all in the same way I would my children. I understand that you think that wrong. And perhaps it should be, or at least perhaps my actions should not proceed from that belief. I feel responsible for you and for your well being. I think I always will – I who have been granted so much by life.’

Pio paced the small area of the room like a caged animal, and spoke as if to herself, reasoning the twists and turns of this relationship out in her own way. ‘Were I the old Piosenniel, the one you first knew, I would have laughed at your concerns, knowing that I had done right, that my actions were the most expedient to bring about the necessary outcome. And had you chastised me, even as gently as you have, I would have disregarded it, as being the unskilled thoughts of someone without my understanding.’

She stopped and regarded the Hobbit. ‘You thought me your friend, then, and in my own way I was. But I would use my understanding of what you needed from me to meet the goals necessary to complete the task set for me. I would never have considered that the task was something you, on your own, might attain, or even that the task set was for you to accomplish.’

Pio resumed her pacing. ‘That is how I saw things then. And when I returned as Tulë still I saw myself as the one who would guide you. I was insulated then from the web of friendship, relying only on what I knew was necessary to be done. The resolution of this quest was a series of steps to be eased into place by me through you.’

She paused and breathed deeply remembering that fateful night. ‘Then Mithadan called me back. And I could not refuse. Yet even then, I told him that I did not know who had answered his call.’ She furrowed her brow at the thought of it. ‘I only know that it was someone new, someone, who for all her years on this earth, was quite new to it. Someone who did not know her way.’

‘And still I do not. At least it seems so when I try to puzzle out relations to other people.’

Sitting down once again on the bed, Pio laughed at herself. ‘This sounds like so much Elvish excuse making even to me. I have turned this away from you and your concerns to fit my needs once again. Let me stop myself here, and bring the focus back to you.’ She took a deep breath, and looked her friend in the face once more.

‘Again, I am sorry, Cami, for the hurt I caused you. In my heart I do know how capable you are of leading and teaching your people. You will do it with kindness and gentle words and most of all by your example. Fate chose well when it chose you for this task. I can only say it has been my great privilege to help you as I could and to count you as my friend.’

‘Let me make these promises to you for the short time we have left together. I will meet you as an equal. I will honor your decisions and your actions – not stepping in unless you request it and only to the point you agree to. That is all I can offer to assure you I will cause you no further pain. That, and this last request – that you speak up and bring it to my attention when my actions step beyond the boundaries you have set.’ She gazed down at the floor, her shoulders hunched. ‘What I cannot guarantee you, what you will have to find out for yourself, is whether other folk, big or little, will respect and treasure you and yours. I can only say that I will try.’

Looking out the porthole, Pio noted how the moon had moved across the night sky. She picked up her cloak and drew it close around her.

‘Walk with me, if you will,’ she asked of Cami, ‘up to the deck. The hour grows late, and I would relieve Mithadan of the watch.’

She offered a hand up to Cami, still seated on the bed, saying, ‘Will you come . . .?’

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami took the hand offered to her. Then she stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms about the Elf's waist, "You've been a good friend to me. None has been dearer. Your own example has given me courage to begin thinking and doing more things on my own. If I have any hope of being a good leader, it's because of what I've seen in you."

She looked Piosenniel directly in the eye. "It doesn't surprise me you acted swiftly and without thought, or that you only saw the end goal and paid little attention how you got there. Pio, you've never been known for circumspection. But I also believe you when you say this act grew out of your love for the hobbits and desire to protect us, and that, as one of the Firstborn, you find it hard to stand aside and watch others make mistakes."

"That, I can understand. Even I feel sadness about that. Whether we like it or not, the Firstborn are departing, even in the year to which I am headed. You've chosen the lot of a mortal, Pio. With that one act, you and I stand on equal ground. So I accept your promise and, in our little time left, will try to do my part as well."

Cami's voice cracked a bit as she continued, "This is such a hard thing, a very hard thing, to find where to draw the line between helping someone by your own actions and helping someone by teaching them how to act. I also find that very hard to do."

"This afternoon, Andril taught me something. She showed me how I'd taken on too much, trying to come up with all the answers, intead of letting the other hobbits share their ideas and help make decisions. Perhaps, we're not so different after all. We'll both have to work on it."

The women left the cabin together and continued to the deck above. Cami looked up to see the stars but, with the distant city lights, they were not quite as bright, certainly not as clear and sweet as Meneltarma. Still, Mithadan greeted them with a smile. He shook his head, "I know there has been a falling out between you two, but I see you have managed to talk."

Cami smiled and nodded, "Things are much better, and we've promised to be more careful with each other. Now, the only thing left is to go down, and talk some sense into my son, which may be an impossible task. But I will leave that for the morning, when heads are clearer and minds sharper."

"I still wonder if the kind of friendships we have on the Star between big and little folk will ever be possible in Middle-earth itself. So many times, Bird has spoken to me about the need to be cautious, and look out for oneself. But then, every time I turn around, I see her doing good deeds for someone--a hobbit, or Man, or Elf--who is no relation at all. So then I scratch my head and can't fit the two together."

"It was actually Bird's behavior and speech that helped me decide how the hobbits should behave in the Anduin. We'll have to be very careful at first, and I will tell everyone that. But if someone extends a hand in frendship, I will not refuse it. Otherwise, we'll all end up in the top branches of different trees hurling fruits at one another. That makes no sense to me."

"I did want to thank you, Mithadan, for what you did today in the court of the King. You might have lived in luxury a long while from the sale of those mithril blades. Was that the one you found Coral playing with back on Meneltarma?"

"But, let me ask you also, Mith, how will we proceed now? Won't the Men see the Elven ships, and ask questions about that? Do we need to hide those ships from them?

[ December 16, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Mithadan's Post:

Mithadan smiled at Cami. "Yes," he said. "The blades which I traded to the King were those which the Hobbits took from the tombs. Coral gathered them, as I requested, and brought them to the Star. So, in a way, your people have paid your own way. Indeed, it would have been a danger to you if you had retained them, for if word were to reach the wrong ears that you possessed such treasures, your people would have been hunted rather than ignored."

He smiled again. "And do not concern yourself that we have deprived ourselves and our children of any reward for our efforts. There will be plenty and to spare even for our partner, Bird." With that, he twitched back his cloak and withdrew a blade from a hidden pocket. The scabbard was of black leather embroidered with stars of silver. He drew forth the blade and they saw that it was much like those he had traded to the King, but the name engraved upon it was 'Elros'.

He looked up at the city for a moment, then back at Cami. His expression grew sad. "Even now, the King is gathering a number of ships, shallow in draft, to carry your people up the Anduin. Your transport will be ready perhaps even tomorrow. The following morning, if all goes well, we will sail forth with our flotilla and meet the Elven fleet where it is moored in the bay. The Men of Gondor will be aware that your people were rescued by the Elves and will not think this strange. The Hobbits will be transferred to the Gondorian vessels and you will be carried to the foot of Rauros where you will be landed on the western shore to make your way into the north..."

He turned away and looked out over the Anduin and the forest of masts rising from the docks. "I will miss you Camelia Goodchilde," he said with a husky voice. "We have been through the fires of Gondolin and the waters of the Great Sea together. We have accomplished great things, yet none is more rare than our friendship. And in two days you will be lost to us beyond any hope of reunion. It will be a sad parting, yet not one without hope, for because of you one day the Halfling will stand forth among the great of legend and be accorded no lesser place even if compared to the heroes of the First Age. Yet I will miss you. And I will always remember that but for you, Piosenniel and I would never have been brought together."
--------

[ December 16, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

*********************************************

Child's post

Cami smiled as Mithadan extended his hand to her in thanks. "I'll miss you too," she confided. I owe you and Pio so much that there's no way I can repay it. I just hope your life will be happy, and your family strong and healthy."

Cami turned to him and laughed, "There's one more thing. If either of you think back on our adventures, try not to be so glum when you talk about me. I intend to live a good, long life to see my children and grandchildren grow. And when the time finally comes to say goodbye, I want no regrets. I've every reason to let go gently, and not look back." The Man looked at her and smiled.


Helen's post:

Mithadan heard the ladder creaking, and turned to see Gamba emerge, rubbing his face. He halted, and glared at Piosenniel, and, to Mithadan's surprise, glared at him too; and then he met Cami's gaze, and turned towards the rail, and wandered aimlessly to the stern.

Cami loked at Mithadan, puzzled, and Mithadan sighed, and headed for the boy. Hearing his heavy footsteps approaching, Gamba turned with a look of puzzled indignation. "What do you want?"

Knowing he would get more out of the boy if he pushed him to anger, Mithadan spoke with a quiet edge to his voice. "A little more respect from you while you are on board my ship, for starters."

It worked. "You laughed at us. You laughed at mother, " Gamba replied, coldly, and turned away again. "I don't know why you rescued us, but it wasn't because we mattered to you."

"Gamba, you're wrong."

Gamba folded his arms and leaned against the rail, sullen.

"Look, you're still a boy. And you've done some pretty boyish things lately. Now I shouldn't have laughed at your mother, and I'm sorry that I did; and she knows that now, I think, and if she doesn't, I'll make it clear. But you-- " Mithadan chuckled. "You remind me of, well, of somebody I knew once."

No answer.

"Gamba, I'll never admit it in public, but I did some boneheaded things in my own youth; things that I'd rather nobody else knew I did. Fortunately, I've left much of that behind me. But I've had my share of hangovers, and I've even had to be rescued, on occasion."

"Then if you did it too, why is everybody so upset about it?"

"That I'll leave for you to discuss with your mother. But Gamba, part of growing up is learning to obey orders, from many different sources. Would you have obeyed if I had told you to stay on board the ship?"

Gamba didn't answer, at first, and then he looked up at the man, and then back at the waves, and said, "If I'm such a boy, why is everybody upset that I'm acting like one? And why does everybody expect me to act like a grownup? And if I'm supposed to act like a grownup, then why can't I do what I want?"

Mithadan came and stood at the rail beside Gamba, looking out at the waves, trying to decide how to anser, but all he muttered was, "You're a teenager, all right."

"What?"

Mithadan sighed. "Oh, nothing." Twins, he thought; I'll have two teenagers at the same time, both struggling with the transition from childhood to adulthood, and they'll be ... Eru Help Me, they'll have Piosenniel's fighting spirit. His blood ran cold at the thought.

"I don't understand, " Gamba groused, and Mithadan gently mussed his hair.

"I know. You'll be all right. But remember this-- obeying orders doesn't stop just when you become a grownup. You'll always have somebody to obey."

"You don't. You're the captain; you just give orders."

"It might look that way, " Mithadan replied. "But it's not that way at all. Not at all." Ruffling the boy's hair one more time, Mithadan turned, and went below.

Cami slowly came to join Gamba, and she gently ran her fingers through his curls, smoothing what Mithadan had ruffled.

"Nitir... mmm... Cami-- " Gamba tightened his arms across his chest, and tried again. "Mmm... umm... Mom?"

She waited, still combing through his hair, and he leaned against her hand as she did.

"Mom, I'm sorry I made you cry. I didn't mean to."

Cami took a deep breath.

[ December 17, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami looked at the boy in surprise. He'd never said that before. She thought about the road they'd travelled, and some of her anger melted away. But their journey wasn't done. In fact, it was barely beginning. Unless they learned to talk to each other, really talk, they'd never make it down the road.

"I know Gamba, I know." She wrapped her arms about the boy, trying to reassure him.

How gracefully Mithadan had spoken to Gamba. He seemed to understand just what to say. What a great father the twins were going to have!

If only she had someone like that, a man whom Gamba could trust and see as a model. What kind of a model could she possibly make for a young male hobbit? She felt woefully incompetent, unable to influence what he did or felt. Rose had been impulsive, but not like this.

If Maura was here, maybe he'd know what to do. Then, she wouldn't be blundering along, making mistake after mistake. Everything she tried seemed to backfire, ending up with an even bigger mess.

Cami's eyes filled with tears as she stepped back and turned to look him in the eye. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me. But something is wrong. First sneaking Kesha aboard, and now this."

"Why can't you trust me? I'm not trying to make you miserable. Why can't you just come to me and talk?"

He evaded her eyes and looked away.

"I'm not one of the guards in the Tombs. I can't force you to do anything, even if I wanted to. And I don't want to. Mostly, you're going to make your own choices. And I'd like to be part of those choices, but you have to let me in because you want me."

"And sometimes, I am going to give you an order, even if you don't like it, especially if I feel you're doing something that could hurt someone, either yourself or somebody else."

"Just think a minute. What if someone had found out about the hobbits, and tried to prevent us from sailing north because of your visit to the Inn? How would you have felt?"

Gamba squirmed uncomfortably, and shook his head, "Not very good." Then he started to walk away.

Cami reached over and pulled him back. "No, running away doesn't solve anything. I'm an expert on that."

"Gamba, having you call me mother is one of the most miraculous things that's ever happened to me, but I can't be your mother unless you really let me, no matter what we call each other. First, you have to trust me enough not to challenge everything I do or say. And second, you have to let me into your heart, into the place where Phura and Esta are. There's no other way. If you can't do those things, then we can't build a family, and maybe we shouldn't even try."

Cami turned to Gamba with a pounding heart waiting for his answer.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

He turned toward her, his face twisting. "Into the place-- the place--" He stared at her, slack-jawed. Esta's place? Phura's place?

Just as Cami realised she might not have put the question very well, or perhaps too well, Gamba disintegrated once again, as the sudden realization crashed into his soul. He had lost Esta, and that had been horrible. What did he think losing Phura and Azraph was going to be like? And how soon would that happen?

His eyes went wild, his precarious self control disintegrated yet again, and Cami suddenly realised his despairing, gasping sobs were echoing through the entire harbor. Mithadan's head popped back up the hatch in alarm, and he beckoned them below. Cami tried to respond, but not fast enough; Mithadan ran forward, snatched the boy and dodged below, into Cami's cabin, where his howls echoed and seemed louder still.

Mithadan siezed a pillow, and thrust it at Gamba. "Cry into this." Gamba obeyed, and more importantly, realised that Mithadan was concerned about the noise, and met his gaze, and tried hard to choke everything back. Mithadan watched him struggling, as Cami appeared, one hand against her own head, and waved him out. "Thanks. I'll see if I can't fix this."

Mithadan nodded, and stepped out, once again ruffling Gamba's hair as he squeaked and wheezed. Gamba winced as he did, thinking that he was going to lose Mithadan too. Who wouldn't he lose?

The boys. Rose. And Cami.

He reached for Cami, and burrowed against her shoulder, and then reached for the pillow again, put that against her shoulder, and cried into it some more. When he quieted a little, he choked out, "I'll try, Mom. I'll really try." And he clutched her tightly until he was quite done crying, at least for the evening.

-----------------

Gamba had slept much of the day, and so was not very tired. For a while he lay awake, next to Phura, wrestling with his heartache, and when he couldn't stand it anymore, he slipped out again, and wandered the ship. He roamed aimlessly over the whole thing, and the fourth time he passed Mithadan and Pio's cabin, he sat down outside the door.

He seemed to have a pattern, he thought; he could spend months or years around a person, and still only realise how much that person meant to him a few days or weeks before he lost them forever.

Esta. Loremaster. Phura. Azraph. Kesha. Bird. Levanto.

And now, surprisingly, Mithadan. He longed to tag along beside the man and ask him question after question, about decisions, about duty, about hangovers, and inns, and freedom, and ships, and about command and obedience; but most especially, about growing up, and why it was so hard.

But it was no good. He was about to lose him, forever, and the opportunity was gone. A single tear trickled down Gamba's face, and he leaned back against the doorpost, utterly miserable, and wished he had sought out Mithadan long ago.

And then he stood, and dashed the tear away. There was another he would lose soon, and he, thought Gamba, might be awake. He clambered rapidly up the ladder, and ran out onto the stern. "Levanto!"

There was a soft answer, and Gamba threw himself overboard into the soothing, cool water beside his friend.

Several on the docks started at the splash, and one queried incredulously, "Man overboard?"

"Not at all, my good sir; do not trouble yourself. Enjoy the delightful evening air, " Levanto soothed him. The man puzzled at the voice which came from the water and not the ship, but all seemed still again, and he shrugged.

Levanto smiled sadly at Gamba. "Now, if he had said, Hobbit Overboard, I couldn't have denied it, could I?"

They talked about many deep and serious things until just before dawn, at which point Gamba shinnied back up the anchor chain, and climbed dripping over the rail. He sneezed a lot for the next several days.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

It was just the hour before dawn. The fat, full moon, wisps of clouds surrounding it, was sinking below the White City like a shadow wraith. Pio stood at the helm deck railing and watched Isil’s downward course, then turned to look eastward where the sun would soon appear above the Ephel Dúath. She shuddered, thinking how in times to come these mountains, the fence of Mordor would house all sorts of shadow creatures.

‘Are you cold?’ he asked, coming silently to stand beside her. Mithadan raised his arm and drew her close against him, beneath the shelter of his cloak.

She moved against his warmth, and smiled at him. ‘Not cold. Just thinking of all the darkness those mountains will ring from the eyes of those yet to come in Minas Anor.' They stood for a while looking east, in companionable silence, until Anar had thrown her first rays into the sky. She laughed as the light lit up some small clouds scudding along the rim of the mountains. ‘Yet still there will be light, will there not, and hope.’

She placed her hand over his on the rail. ‘Our task is almost done, Mithadan.’ She smiled, thinking of it. ‘And I was just thinking about something . . .’ she continued. Mithadan looked askance at her, his eyebrows raised. ‘Nothing of great concern!’ she laughed, ‘Or anything that will impede the completion of this task which now draws near.’ He relaxed against her, the brief glimmer of doubt now gone from his eyes.

‘A question first.’ she began. ‘When do you expect we shall have the provisioned ships ready for the transfer of the Hobbits? How long do you think it will take for us to get them to Rauros and see them safely off? I would very much like to pilot one of them also, if possible. Being busy will keep me from any more trouble on the Star.’ Pio shook her head at the ups and downs of these last few days.

‘Once we are done with the ships of Gondor,’ she went on, ‘what shall we do with them then? Could we possibly take two of them with us, when we leave to return to our Age? Bird could have one for her use, if she so wished it. And if not, then we could use both of them to let out for hire, while we kept the Star. Would that be a possibility . . .?’

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan looked thoughtful for a moment. "The ships should be ready by the end of the day today. We have chartered most of them with crews and supplies. We will own three outright, so of course you may pilot one. Then two days out to the Bay given that we'll be moving with the current. Most of another day to transfer our passengers and about a week going against the current to reach Rauros."

He smiled for a moment. "Once we let our passengers off including the Hobbrim, there will only be three of us left: myself, you and Bird plus Levanto of course. We'd be hard pressed to sail the Star let alone take another vessel with us. I had thought to arrange for the sale of the three ships today before we set out on this final task."

Piosenniel chuckled. "I had forgotten that we three will be all that remain. Perhaps we can use the proceeds of the sale to buy a vessel for Bird if she wants one. And there is that pretty dagger that you've managed to keep." She sighed. "A fortnight and then our crew will be broken up at last."

He nodded and reached out to stroke her hair. "All things must end," he said. "I am learning this," she replied sadly.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

Mithadan was gone for most of the day. There were many details to be seen to before the ships could sail south to the Bay. He met with those who would pilot the crafts to the waiting Swan ships off the southwestern coast of Tolfalas, speaking especially to one of the men that Piosenniel would pilot that vessel. The man looked askance at the request, but the firm look in Mithadan’s eye denied him comment. ‘Well, it’s his ship, that’s for sure.’ he said to himself. ‘If he wants some fool woman to pilot it and probably run it aground before we leave port, then so be it!’

By late afternoon, all was done. Mithadan had arranged for provisions to be brought to the Star, the ships stood ready, and the crews awaited the word to set sail and head down the Anduin. Mithadan took his place at the helm and took the Star out of dock. She would lead the way for the others.

Pio had gone aboard the last ship, a trim craft named The Gull’s Wing, and introduced herself to the crew and pilot, Voronmir. Her eye roamed appreciatively about the deck and over the mast and sails. ‘A well kept ship!’ she murmured quietly, smiling at the crew. ‘We try to keep her so, m’Lady.’ said the pilot, taking her measure as she stood before him. ‘She’s nice and tight, never been run aground.’ The Elf understood his meaning all too well, and answered his fears in a serious manner. ‘And never will be under my watch.’ she said gravely, holding his gaze.

She stepped to the helm with him, and watched as the other ships moved out to follow the Star. It was The Gull’s turn at last, and she stepped back, motioning the pilot to the wheel. ‘Take her out, Voronmir.’ she said to him. ‘I will watch how she handles. You will tell me of her quirks as we sail today, and of the river’s ways. Tomorrow, then, I will take the wheel.’

The current of The Great River moved them along at a good clip. And it was, indeed, just two days later that they came to the place where the Elven ships lay at anchor. Voronmir’s misgivings had proved groundless, as Pio handled the Gull’s Wing with a steady hand, and he had grown quite fond of her as she asked him often for advice and for direction. The Gull flew over the water like the bird whose name she bore, and never once did her hull scrape against the river’s banks.

Late evening of the second day, the Men’s ships lay at anchor near the Elven vessel. Pio left the Gull under the watchful eye of Voronmir, and went to spend the night with Mithadan, aboard the Star. His eyes fell on her as she boarded, and she strode, smiling, toward him. ‘That was fun! Thank you!’ she cried, nodding her head toward the Gull.

Tomorrow, they would tackle the logistics of getting all the Hobbits from the Elven ships to the Men’s ships. Cami, she hoped, had already sorted out who was to go where. She had said she would work on a plan for that as the ship’s traveled down river.

Tonight she would spend quietly with Mithadan, trying hard not to think of the good-byes which would come all too soon and be so final.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

At the first glint of light on the horizon, Cami awoke and went up the ladder to the main deck. She stood at the railing, surveying the Bay. For a minute, standing there in the soft mists of the morning, she missed the presence of Angara who would normally have been sitting atop the mast throwing heckling comments down at her.

The Elven fleet was harbored close to shore, with the new Mannish ships that had just sailed in behind the Star standing off in deeper waters. Cami felt her heart clutch as she remembered what would happen in the next few days.

She could already see the small skiffs churning through the Bay, loaded down with all the common supplies they'd stored below deck. The Elves were transporting them over to the ships that would be going back to Gondor. After breakfast, they'd be carrying hobbits as well. Cami had made a neat long list, truly her last of the voyage, with all the names neatly inscribed, showing what ship each family would be on for the journey.

Staring towards the east for a long while, she suddenly became aware of the welcome presence of Rose who had slipped quietly up and now stood near her elbow. Cami turned around and smiled. "I've missed you. It's not been easy."

Rose nodded, "Daisy told me. I enjoyed my stay on the Elven ship with Annee. We just wanted to see what one was like. But I've missed you too. I came back with the skiff that was carrying supplies to the Star."

Rose impulsively reached out and patted Cami's shoulder. She could see the look of worry that still shown in her aunt's eyes. "Is Gamba alright? And what about you?"

Cami sighed, "I hope so. We're working through a lot of anger and sadness. I guess you've heard it all. He cried on my shoulder last night. Then he went back to his brother's cabin and eventually roamed around a bit on his own. When he went swimming with Levanto, I kept a distant eye just to make sure he was alright. Of course he doesn't know that."

"You used to do that for me as well, didn't you? One time, I saw you, and then I figured out you'd been there other times as well."

Cami laughed, "My secrets are out, but then mothers sometimes do things like that, especially when they're worried."

Rose looked over at Aunt Cami. For her, too, the woman had become more like 'mother' than aunt, although neither of them had ever chosen to put that into words.

Rose spoke softly, "I've never thanked you for taking me in when my grandparents passed on, or for agreeing that we'd go together on this voyage. It's something I'll never forget."

"I'll never forget it either," responded Cami. "I don't think I could have survived without you, certainly not in the Camps or the Tombs."

"Rose, I've been thinking. It might have been easier on you without Gamba or the younger boys. You know it's going to take a while for things to straighten out in our family."

With a mischievous smile on her face, Rose looked towards Cami, "That's probably true, but I don't mind. The boys are sweet, and Gamba makes things interesting. I've always wanted brothers, and now you've gotten me a passel. I'll whip them into shape."

"I expect you will, Mistress Rose!" Cami looked over at the girl. Rose had grown so much since coming to the Star. Then she added, "I suspect they will keep us both busy for a while. But, enough of that. Let's go below and get some breakfast. Hot pots of honnied tea, mushrooms and sausage and eggs and buttered scones. Only the best for our last days on the Star. Then we'll come back up with the others and watch the skiffs do their job with the hobbits."

By mid-morning, the fleet should be ready to leave and begin its journey back towards the River.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Phura sat up and counted the five boys, fondly, and looked over at the damp-haired, snoring Gamba. For some strange reason, Gamba had left all the boys with him a great deal lately. Phura had not complained; as much as he was going to miss the four young ones, he had determined to enjoy their company as much as he could. And once he saw that Nitir and Gamba were working things out, he gave them as much time as he could together.

But he wished that Gamba had been around more. He got up and walked over to his snoring brother, and laid a hand on his shoulder, expecting him to be warm to the touch. But he was not. "Gamba. Why are you cold? And damp?"

Gamba woke, and sat up, and sneezed several times. "I went swimming with Levanto, " he said.

Phura nodded. "You'll miss him. There'll be too many goodbyes."

"Don't." Gamba's face twisted.

Phura faltered, and fell silent, and watched as his brother struggled for composure; he reached for little Maura, picked him up, and handed him to Gamba.

"Thanks, " said Gamba, and held the boy close, as he stirred and reluctantly woke up. "Gamba. Breakfast?" The child squirmed, and Phura woke the rest of them, and they all groggily trooped to the galley. Phura hummed The Snowbattle Of Ladros, and everyone but Ban and Maura hummed along.

"You'll get to see snow, if you go far enough north, " Phura smiled.

"Don't, " said Gamba.

Phura sighed, and fell silent.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mithadan]

At last, the Hobbits had been transferred to their new ships. Cami checked her lists twice to ensure that none had been overlooked and all were where they should be. Then Mithadan ordered the anchor weighed and the sails raised. The Lonely Star turned slowly back towards the east and made its way back towards the mouth of the Anduin.

Gamba climbed up to the helm deck and stood beside him shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Mithadan smiled down at the young Hobbit, but refrained from ruffling his hair. Instead, he put his hand on the lad's shoulder and pulled him before the wheel. "Its a day to the mouth of the river and two more until we pass Minas Anor," he said. "Not much time to learn seamanship. But for now, would you like to steer?" The Hobbit's eyes shone as he placed his hands on the wooden wheel and turned his face into the wind...

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had spent most of the afternoon sorting out hobbits and supplies on the Star. She was filtering through the heaps of provisions one last time when Bird came in and offered to help raid the Galley and to pack up some of the preserved foods the hobbits would need for their journey north.

As they worked together, the two women chatted and laughed about the time they'd spent on the Star, saying how things in a tale never turned out to be quite what you expected. Soon, Cami found herself talking with Bird about what her friend might do after returning to the Fourth Age.

After they'd discussed several plans and possibilities, Cami put her hand over Bird's and stared her straight in the eye. "I just hope you'll follow through on looking for you kin. Search and find them, as I've found mine. It will mean a lot."

Then she added, "I'll make you a promise. Wherever I go, I'll search for clues to the shapechanger puzzle. And, if I find anything at all, I'll get back to you some way. Promise me. Don't forget! Keep looking for the clues I'll send. They'll be there, somewhere."

Bird nodded, her face serious and thoughtful, "We'll look, Pio and I together. I won't forget what you've promised."

When Cami left the galley to return above, she saw Gamba with Mithadan. The boy was at the helm, his hands gripped tightly on the wheel, learning how to steer the vessel. Mithadan stood right behind him, near his shoulder, and kept a close watch on what he was doing, but did not interfere.

That's the way it should be, Cami thought. Let them learn by doing on their own, and try to stand back as much as you dare. But always be there looking on. She smiled at the sight, then slipped away to leave the two of them to their adventure.

[ December 22, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

They had come four days journey upriver, and were anchored for the evening just south of Cair Andros. Daylight, it had been decided, would be the best time to pass through the narrow channel to the west of the Ship of Long-Foam. The eastern channel they deemed too narrow for the width of the ships to sail through safely.

Like a great ship, its prow facing upstream, the long thin island lay anchored in the Anduin, some leagues north of Minas Anor, between the provinces of Anórien and North Ithilien. It broke the waters of the great river into two narrower streams as they flowed around it.

To the east of it, in North Ithilien, was the area that would be known as Hennuth Annûn, the Window of Sunset, the series of caves hidden behind a high waterfall, facing west over the vales of the Anduin. And between the caves and the river’s bank lay the Field of Cormallen. ‘Strange to pass by what will become the history already in my mind.’ she thought to herself.

Pio stood at the bow of the Gull’s Wing and looked toward the east where the faint moon was already rising into the evening sky. She had looked with fresh eyes at the treasury of history which lay along the Anduin as the ships passed upstream - Pelargir, the ancient port of Gondor; the Emyn Arnen, Royal Hills, which marked the boundary between South and North Ithilien; Minas Anor and its twin to the east, Minas Ithil – in darker days known as Minas Tirith and Minas Morgul; and the Citadel of the Stars, Osgiliath, spread out on both sides of the river.

Voronmir hailed her, calling her from her thoughts. There were details of the ship to be seen to, to make ready for tomorrow’s passage. History stepped aside for the concerns of the present, as she made her rounds with him. Satisfied that all was at last in order, she returned to the bow and took a seat at the rail, letting her mind drift with the currents once again.

Once they had passed the length of Cair Andros and returned to the main channel of the river, she thought, it would be just three days until they reached the area of the Falls. It would be her last time to see Cami . . .

[ December 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

Phura and Kali sat up on the bow, looking back over The Lonely Star. Kali's gaze strayed everywhere, taking everything in, trying to fix it all in his mind, lingering on each person. Phura's gaze strayed also, but always he returned to Gamba, still at the wheel again, with a patient Mithadan giving orders, and an eager, if nervous, Gamba carrying them out.

Kali spoke. "So is being a hobbrim everything you thought it would be-- or are you disappointed?"

Phura smiled. "I did not know what to dream. I knew I loved the storms, and the sea. And I wanted to dance, with the storms, with the sea, the waves, the deep. And I am not disappointed." He looked at Kali, and smiled. "But I was surprised to find that not only did the dream bring a change to me, but to others also, and that I gained kin I never knew I had."

Kali nodded. "I went from having no family, to having more cousins than I can keep track of. Well, almost."

Phura laughed, knowing that Kali, only less than Andril, knew each and every one of his cousins by name and knew about each one. Kali did keep track of them all. Phura's mmory kept lore and a few faces and hearts; Kali's mind kept faces and hearts, and some lore. They would make a good team.

Azraph and Daisy joined them, and the four sat together a while more, and reflected on the strange course that they had all journeyed on. Daisy spoke of her time on the Star, and she reminisced about their first meeting with Kali.

Phura smiled. "I remember watching al those hobbrim swim down the river-tunnel, and now knowing what to think of them. I never thought, then, that I would become one."

Daisy tipped her head to one side. "But how did your dream work then? What did you think you would become?"

"Either a water-bird, or perhaps a sea-serpent, " Phura shrugged. "That's how I interpreted the song."

"And what about me, hmmm? What was I supposed to do, or be, when you were off being a sea-serpent? Or a bird?" Azraph accused him, playfully. Phura got nervous.

"I didn't know how it would work, " he admitted. "I only knew it was something that I would have to do. And I was terrified that you might not be able to do it with me."

"Well, " said Daisy, holding Kali's hand, "I'm very glad that Ulmo showed up, and changed us."

Phura, thinking of Ancalimon's words, nodded, and remembering, murmured, "The kind of change you seek can only be given by Eru; but sometimes he does delegate such things."

"I'm glad he did, " Azraph replied. Daisy nodded.

Kali stood, laughing. "I may be more glad then all of you. Who's to know?" He gestured over the rail. "And now, what about this river? We may never see one quite like this again."

Phura called, and Kesha joined them; and one by one, they dove over the rail. Phura was the last to go, and he looked over his shoulder, and saw Gamba watching. Phura met his eyes, and slowly, Gamba nodded. Phura nodded back, hesitating. And Gamba nodded again. "Go!"

Phura dove in, and Gamba returned his eyes to the far horizon, knowing that he had his own exploring to do.

Cami had told Gamba that she was looking forward to seeing Loremaster Maura again, beyond the circles of the world, and hoping that he would have many tales of Tol Fuin to tell her. Well, then, in the same way, Phura should have a collection of tales about the Abyss, and Gamba decided that he had best build up his own collection of adventures, about the Langwell River, and the Greenwood. He decided to live life to its fullest, and meet the north head-on, and create a tale worth telling. Perhaps, along with Phura and Azraph, Esta would also be waiting to hear his tale.

He hoped so.

[mark12_30]

As the hobbrim prepared to come back on board, Phura sought out the dolphin swimming beside The Lonely Star with Levanto, that had frolicked and gamboled with them and gotten them more tired than they otherwise would have.

He met her gaze. "Please, Bird, come speak with me on board for a moment."

The dolphin glicked and chirped, and dove, gaining speed. Phura shinnied up the rope Gamba dangled for them. But Bird, rising rapidly from the depths, leaped into the air, soared up over the rail, morphed on the way down, and landed gracefully on the deck. She tossed her hair in satisfaction.

"You've really perfected that, " Phura said with admiration.

"Thanks, " she said, her dark eyes sparkling.

"Bird, " he began.

"I hate goodbyes, " she snapped.

"I know. This isn't a goodbye. It's a thank-you."

"For what?" she said, puzzled.

He took her hands, and kissed them. "For my dream."

"Ummm... but Phura, don't you remember? It was all wrong."

"No, " he replied. "It wasn't all wrong. You did change me."

"What? How?"

"By opening Lindo's heart. If you hadn't planted the love of storms and wild open spaces into him, he couldn't have planted it into generation after generation of hobbits. It was as if you planted the first seed, and every generation after that harvested the fruit and saved the seeds, and planted them again. Without that first little seed, where would the dream have been?"

Bird pushed a stray lock behind one ear. "Oh." She laughed a little. "Oh. Well, thanks."

"No, " Phura replied. "Thank you." And he reached up, as he and Lindo had both been so tempted to do, and touched her hair. He could barely reach.

She knelt down. He carefully took one lock of her black hair into his hands, and carefully added the white streak to it, and gently held them both across his open palm, and whispered,

"Raven hair in windblown tangles,
One tress opalescent dangles;
Darkling eyes that downward call me,
Oceanward, abyssward draw me..."

His whisper faded into silence; he lifted the two locks of hair to his lips, and kissed them, and then stepping back, released them into the wind again, gazing with affection and gratitude into her deep, wild eyes.

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

The passage round Cair Andros had been negotiated safely. Pio had asked Voronmir to take the helm for it, and he had brought the Gull’s Wing through without a bump or scrape. She had taken the wheel back from him once they were passed the islet, and now a day and evening later found herself bringing the ship to anchor at one of the middle mouths of the Entwash as it emptied into the Anduin. Tomorrow they would draw near their first sighting of the great cliff that marked the western edge of the Emyn Muil and formed the eastern boundary of Rohan. It was here that the waters of the Anduin fell in a roaring foam from the height of the Emyn Muil, and rushed again southward to the bay. They would put in a short distance south of the Falls to avoid the turbulence caused by the churning waters.

For this last day of the trip, Pio ceded the piloting of the Gull to Voronmir. She wished to spend the last day of river journey aboard the Star. Thanking the man for his assistance and his friendship, she packed her few possessions and returned to her ship. Once aboard she stowed her pack below and went seeking her friends.

Mithadan was busy with the ship. He nodded as she smiled and waved at him as she passed, his attention focused on the task at hand – the parceling out of supplies, she thought, that the Hobbits would take with them when they left.

Her heart skipped a beat at these last words – ‘when they left.’ Her eyes sought out Cami, who stood at the bow looking to the north where soon she would lead her little band. Such a small body to house the large, brave spirit within. She climbed the stairs to the helm, coming quietly along side her, and stood close to her, arm touching arm. A brief moment passed in easy silence, then, Pio placed her hand over Cami’s, saying simply, ‘I will miss you beyond all measure, dear friend. Yet saying so, I would also speed you on your way.’ She laughed at her words. ‘Yes, I am in two minds about this. One wishes you the best as you set out to the long completion of the task appointed you now. And the other wants only to freeze time for my own selfish benefit.’

She crouched down, to be at the same level as the Hobbit. Grey eyes regarded brown eyes deeply. ‘I know where your heart lies though, and I would not make it hard for you to leave. I will always love you, my stout-hearted friend, and my memory will be long and clear of you. And when my children can understand the words I speak to them, they will learn how we were friends and what a large heart you had to deal with such an errant Elf as I. They will cherish your memory, as will their children’s children.’

Tears threatened along the Elf’s lashes and she blinked them away. Smiling, she hugged Cami for a long moment, and then held her at arms length. ‘Come.’ she said, taking her friend’s hand and leading her from the railing. ‘Let us do something ordinary together to pass the time for now. We have the rest of this evening and much of tomorrow before we anchor near the Falls. Suppertime is nearing – let’s see what we can find in the larder and make the crew something tasty for tonight. You make the stew - I am sure I saw a large jar of dried mushrooms down there last time I looked. I shall see what I can find to make us some tasty pies for a treat.’

She hurried her friend down the steps and into the pantry. ‘Well, let us see what we can find . . .’

[ December 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami scampered about the galley, digging into pantries and bins to see if there was anything that they could salvage for the evening meal. She found a jar with dried mushrooms hidden near the back of the larder, a second with root vegetables, and a large barrel overflowing with freshly caught fish. She stared at the fish and sighed.

For a moment, her thoughts turned back with longing to those foods she'd known and loved as a child in the Shire--hot tea with honey, pots of steaming black coffee, cold chicken and pickles served on a sideboard, and fried fish with chips. The food brought memories of parties and shared suppers and teas where friends and family had gathered.

No chance for most of that now. The tea and coffee were long gone, as was the honey. Many of these foodstuffs would not likely be available where she was going. But, whatever Pio suggested, she sternly vowed not to settle for another bowl of fish stew for her last real night on the Star. Perhaps a fine mess of root vegetables with mushrooms. Just no more stewed fish!

Cami continued rummaging about in the recesses of the larder when she turned to Pio and announced with delight, "Look what I've found." There were several pails left aside, apparently destined for the garbage detail, that had somehow been missed.

Two days ago, before they slipped passed Minas Anor for the last time, a hunting party had gone ashore, and brought back a fresh kill of venison. They'd made short order of that rare treat, but someone had rendered the fat from the buck and left it sitting in these pails.

"Fried fish, it is!" Cami proclaimed triumphantly, grabbing her pans and stoking the fire to heat up the lard until it bubbled.

Pio smiled at the sight of her friend scurrying about the kitchen, as if that were her only concern in the world. They chatted together about this and that, and then the Elf asked if Cami knew where the hobbits would be going.

The woman shrugged, "We'll see. North, I'm sure. But that's all I really know. Gandalf said there'd be folk waiting on the river bank to help us with the last leg of the journey. Today, I had the elders come to my cabin, and discuss our different choices, and we promised the three clans would stay together, at least for now."

Cami glanced over towards Pio, "You know I shall miss you, and everyone on the Star. I have said this once, but I'll say it again. I owe you and Mithadan and Bird a debt that can't be repaid. I would stuff you all into my satchel and take you along if I could."

Cami stared determinedly out the small porthole. "It's so hard. So many roads, and so many choices. Just when you find friends, something happens in life and sends you careening in another direction, down a fork you hadn't even known about before. Only I am sure this is the right fork for me."

"But there's one other thing I wanted to say. I told Bird earlier. Wherever the hobbits go, I intend to keep a sharp eye open for shapechangers, If I discover anything, anything at all that might help your search, I'll figure out a way to get the clues back to you. So don't forget to look, after you get home."

Within a short space of time, the two women finished their cooking preparations and had the evening meal laid out on long tables that were covered with clean white cloths. Soon the others made their way down to the galley, both for food and a final evening of companionship.

It was a cheery time, with ample dishes and talking and singing. There was even a story or two to be told. Several of the hobbits pulled out their flutes, and one had a very old fiddle, passed down from father to son. They cleared away the tables to dance, and passed their last evening on the Star in pleasantries and friendship, then split up early to retire to their beds in preparation for the morning.

At the very end of the night, when most had returned to their cabins, Cami went above to whisper her goodbyes to the ship, just as she'd bid farewell to the hidden isle of Meneltarma. I shall never forget you, or the folk you brought to me. I cannot be a sailor or one who dwells in the water like the hobbrim or Levanto, but you have taught me why others love the Sea so fiercely and give their hearts to Ulmo. Goodbye, bright Star. My own path lies with the green fields and the forests, but I shall not forget the music of the waves. That, and my feelings for my friends, will stay forever sealed in my heart.

[ December 26, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The sun rose fair and golden, as the Star sailed north up the Anduin, with its flotilla clinging close behind. Most of the hobbits had risen early and stood on deck beside the railing, watching as the vessel cut its course up river, slowly approaching the western bank.

Just behind them, to their left, they could see the bright waters of the Entwash splashing down across fertile plains to join up with the Great River. The misty outline of the Rauros Falls loomed ahead, its voice thundering from peak to peak. The sound was so loud and insistent that little Maura covered his ears. Tall cliffs veered upward on either side, with the solitary isle of Tol Brandir standing like a sentinel in the middle, surrounded by churning waters that roared down towards the great falls.

On the left bank stood Amon Lhaw, and on the right, Amon Hen, the ancient Seats of Hearing and Seeing. The North Stair, the only direct access to the cliffs for portage, could barely be seen with all the spray and mist that spewed out from the rushing waters.

Cami and Rose stood next to Gamba, with Phura and the boys clustered behind. Cami tried to explain as much as she could. Every now and then Piosenniel or Bird would cut in and point out something that she hadn't known before. Mithadan stood by himself at the helm of the ship, guiding the Star towards the western bank of the River, to a safe spot just beneath the basin of the falls.

With the exception of the Star and the three ships that would be going forward into the Fouth Age, the others were to unload their hobbit cargo and return immediately to Minas Anor. Word of the strange visitors would undoubtedly reach the streets of the City. But, by then, the hobbits should be on their way north, only a distant rumor to the Men who ruled the Kingdom of Gondor.

It was Cami who first saw the party awaiting them on the river bank, and tugged at Gamba's arm to get his attention. There seemed to be a small group of Elves looking up in the direction of the Star, all clad in green and brown, with bows slung over their backs.

Piosenniel leaned over and whispered to her, "Silvan elves from Greenwood, sent by King Thranduil, I believe."

"And, look there, Cami," she whispered, pointing to a tall figure, with a fair and noble face, "His son Legolas leads the group."

But, who is that? Pio wondered, straining her eyes towards the tallest member of the party. Yes, he did look familiar, although he was not one whom she had expected to see.

A single tall fellow walked in the midst of the Elves whom Cami took to be a wizard of some sort. For one moment, the woman's heart soared as she thought to greet Gandalf again, as he had promised her on the isle of Meneltarma. But a second look caused her to start, for this was definitely not Gandalf.

Instead of robes of grey, the tall wizard was decked in simple attire of brown, so that he almost blended into the earth and trees. His shoulders were slightly stooped, and the parts of his body did not quite seem to fit together, at least in any organized way. Nor did he have Gandalf's air of certainty and command, or the hint of strength that lay underneath. There was no sword at his side, only a thick wood cudgel. His hand grasped a crooked brown staff that looked to be little more than a walking stick that had been wrenched off a neighboring tree. Yet there was an air of goodness and decency about him that transcended his haphazard appearance.

Still, Cami was puzzled. This was not what she'd been expecting. Altogether, this wizard posed a strange sight. Only in his eyes, deep brown and filled with a hint of some distant light, was there any indication that he might be something more than his simple robes and crooked stick suggested.

Rose leaned over to her friend and whispered, "Cami, did Gandalf say anything of that tall fellow, the one dressed in brown?"

"No, I've no idea who he is," she replied, her voice a bit hestitent. "I've neither seen or heard of him before."

Mithadan called down from the helm, "This is as close as I can safely bring the Star. Set the skiffs down over the side, and start offloading the hobbits. The other ships will need to do the same. I expect we'll all be spending the night here."

We are here, Cami thought, her relief mingled with concern. She climbed down the ladder and slipped into the skiff, with Rose at her side, as they headed towards the shore and the party awaiting there.

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

save: Phura and Gamba

[Child of the 7th Age]

The brown wizard stood apart from the band of Elves and walked towards the lead skiff that was already landing near the shore. For a moment, he stood quietly by himself, staring intently at the passengers in the boat, as if he was struggling to remember something that threatened to slip from his mind. He finally fixed his eyes on the two hobbits who were setting foot on the muddy bank of the river, along with an Elf and a raven-haired woman who followed just behind.

"Camelia Goodchild? Rose Goodchild?" The wizard peered down at the two small figures, adjusting his wire spectacles, which were about to slip off from his nose. Turning aside for a moment, his face a mask of concentration, he began searching for something under his belt and within the folds of his brown robe.

"Now where did I put that?" he muttered to himself, as he explored his various pockets as well as a satchel that had been carelessly slung over his back.

"Are you Camelia Goodchild?," he queried, looking her up and down several times. "If so, Master Gandalf sends greetings and regrets. I've several things to give you."

The wizard knelt down and continued his singleminded search, emptying out the contents of his bag, as he explained his actions to Cami. "I know there's a letter for you somewhere, but I can't seem to find it. I expect it will turn up later."

Cami glanced down with curiosity, straining to see what was coming out of the wizard's satchel. She could glimpse several strange objects lying on the ground that had not been there before. There seemed to be a small bird's nest made of tangled twigs, a smooth stone from the river basin, several remnents of half-eaten carrots, and a mysterious looking key.

Then the wizard straightened up and continued speaking with Cami, "In any event, welcome to Middle-earth. You and your people are most certainly welcome here. I know that Gandalf generally tends to keep an eye on you, and he promises to visit someday soon. Only now he is regretably detained by many urgent dealings. The members of our order have only recently arrived, so there is much to do. Gandalf has asked me to help you make your way towards the north, along with the Elves."

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Cami finally managed to push herself into the wizard's dialogue and blurt out the question which stood uppermost in her mind.

He turned to face the hobbit and fixed a serious eye on her. "I am Radagast the Brown, a worthy wizard, a master of shapes and changes of hue, one who studies herbs and beasts, and particularly the ways of birds."

At this moment, a black crow swooped down and lit upon his shoulder, and, with head tilted upward, trilled a few notes in his ear. He nodded and whispered something back in a language that Cami could not understand, and then the bird flew away.

He turned his attention once again to the hobbits. "I believe we may soon be neighbors. So we shall be seeing a bit of each other. My home is in Rhosgobel on the western boundary of Greenwood, not far from the Old Ford. It is my understanding that you will initially be heading towards Greenwood, to dwell in the land between the Forest River and the Forest Path. But we will speak of that later, after we gather with the Elves."

"Thank you so much for coming to our aid," Cami politely replied, extending her hand in greeting, "But you wouldn't happen to know when Gandalf will be joining us, would you?"

He shook his head and pushed his hand down into the very depths of his satchel, triumphantly pulling up a crumpled sheet of vellum, "Ah, here it is. The letter at least. Perhaps this will help us." He handed the message over to Cami. She excused herself to run over and sit down on a nearby log, intending to pour over its contents.

But before she could get very far, Radagast again addressed her, "That woman with you, the one next to the Elf with the raven hair, what is her name?"

Cami answered the wizard without even looking up from her letter, "You must mean Bird. She's a friend."

Radagast turned and stared intently at Bird for several minutes with a curious expression on his face, muttering something unintelligible underneath his breath. Then he spoke louder so she could hear, "You certainly have interesting friends. I've something else for you as well. But it will need to await the morning." Then he walked away, promising to return in just a short while to greet the rest of the hobbits.

Skiff after skiff began to make its way onto the shore. The hobbits climbed out of the small boats, each one toting a pack or bag that they'd need to carry along the road. Cami's attention was quickly diverted to the needs of the landing parties and helping to sort things out. The letter remained safely tucked under her belt, awaiting a time when she could sit down at her ease and carefully read it.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

The Star lay at anchor just south of the great cliff that formed the western edge of the Emyn Muil. Pio had brought her maps up after the dinner that she and Cami had cooked just last evening, and she and Mithadan had gone over the easiest route for Cami and her band of Hobbits to follow. This last day of travel had been spent by Pio in making simple maps of the areas they would pass through, and one larger detailed map showing the entire journey.

Now they were docked, and Pio had rolled her map copies securely, placing them in the waterproof tube in which her own copies were usually stored. She slung it over her shoulder by the carrying strap, and grabbing her travelling pack, always at the ready, she prepared to leave the ship.

Mithadan was on the helm deck, and she ran up the stairs to say that she would see him later, ashore. He stood talking to one of the other captains who had come on board, making arrangements for them to leave as soon as the provisions had been off-loaded for the Hobbits and brought to shore. His loose shirt was unlaced at the throat, and the sleeves were rolled well above his elbows, as he had lent a hand to the moving of supplies to the skiffs.

The westering sun caught the glint of sweat that shone on his forearms and for one suspended moment she remembered when first she had looked upon him with her first feelings of affection. Aboard the Star, under a hot sun, he had bent to the task of sorting through the weapons in their meager armory. The sheen of his sweat outlined the movement of his muscles as he worked, and she had wondered at the feelings that had stirred within her as she watched him.

He caught her staring at him now, and smiled at her. Her breath caught in her throat at the beauty of him, and on impulse, she surprised him with a kiss. The captain who had been speaking with him, chuckled at Mithadan’s discomfiture. Eyes glinting and a barely concealed smile on his face, he nodded to Pio, and took his leave of Mithadan, saying he had no further questions and would leave him to more pressing matters. He dared a wink at Pio as he left, and she rewarded him with a smile.

‘Do not be angry with me, belovéd.’ she said to Mithadan, taking him by the hands and drawing him near. ‘Little time have we had together of late, and I simply could not resist the urge to pluck a kiss from you.’ She ran her fingers lightly about the line of his lips. ‘Or perhaps several . . .’ she murmured.

He laughed and held her at arms’ length. ‘One last thing we must see to, Piosenniel. He motioned with his chin toward the remaining supplies and the Hobbits who were now crossing to the shore in skiffs. ‘One last task to be done.’

‘You cannot know how I dread that small word, Mithadan. Should I never hear it again, it will be too soon!’ She sighed, and rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. ‘Alright then, you tend to the task of transporting the rest of the supplies, and I shall take up the task of seeing the camp is set up.’ Placing her hands on her hips, she arched her brows, and held his gaze with her grey eyes. ‘But once the tents are up, the Hobbits accounted for, and the provisions stacked, I expect to be your only task for the remainder of the evening.’

‘So be it!’ he intoned, grinning impishly. Then kissed her quickly and sent her on her way.

[piosenniel]

The Elf worked with single minded purpose. Andril, Cami, and Rose had been recruited, along with Kali, Daisy, and Phura to organize teams to count noses and divide the Hobbits into groups to get tents and small campsites set up. Bird had been sent to oversee the stacking of the supply cartons in several secure places, and she had delegated the physical part of this task to several teams of burly lads. By late afternoon, all was set up, and the smoke from numerous small cooking fires drifted up among the tree leaves as the Hobbits prepared the evening meal.

Pio had gone to where the Elves were setting up their camp, a little apart from the others. She shook her head at its location, and drew Thranduil’s son to one side, speaking low to him. ‘Tell me, Legolas – why have you and your companions come here?’

‘It was Mithrandir who bade my Father send the Elves of Greenwood to escort the Periannath to the northern forest of our realm. The Istar holds them in some special affection and would see the hand of friendship extended between our two peoples and not the hand of strife. We would honor his wishes in this matter. And so, we have come.’

‘The hand of friendship would be better extended if you were closer to them. Do you not agree?’ she asked. He looked at her coolly. ‘Perhaps. But it has always been our way to keep apart as we could.’ She smiled pleasantly at him, and continued on. ‘That way will not work here, Legolas. And so you must choose a different course if you are to meet the expectations of Mithrandir. The Periannath are a friendly, close people, it would not behoove you to be stand-offish. If you will but keep your mind open, you will find you have as much to learn from them as they from you.’

She arched her brows, saying, ‘Come, then, and extend the graciousness of the Elves to your new guests. Share supper, if you will, with us, and delight us with your songs and music. She smiled to herself, her eyes staring far into time and distance. ‘Long has it been since I heard Elven voices raised in harmony. It would be pleasing to hear them once again.’

He laughed, a soft sound like a silvered stream as it rushes over rocks, clear and refreshing to the ears. ‘We will come, Piosenniel. And we will sing the old songs for our new friends, and for you.’

**

They came late, after the meal, when most were sitting round their burned down fires, pipe in hand. Silent they were, as they passed among the trees and appeared at the edge of the camp. The moon shone down on their fair faces, and the glint of stars was in their eyes. Their voices were raised in an ancient song that echoed in the rustling of the leaves above them, and though the words were unknown to most, yet the beauty of them and the music which held them in its flow was understood in full by the inner spirit of each one who listened.

They stayed late into the night, telling stories of the Green Wood and of their people, until at last the Hobbits had dropped into sweet dreamings, lulled by the murmurings of their voices.

[Child of the 7th Age]

The faint strains of Elven song drifted lazily over the hobbits as the tiny campfires burned lower, until only glowing cinders and smouldering ash were left. Cami walked slowly about the campsite, tugging blankets over sleeping children, and bending down to kiss their curly heads.

In the dim reflection of flickering embers, she could just make out the forms of Phura and Gamba. The two had pulled their sleeping tarp to a secluded niche under the protective arms of a great oak tree. Gamba's face looked strained even in sleep, with his hand clutched tightly about his brother's waist.

Cami went over to the pair and noticed that the older boy was still awake. Phura met her eyes and whispered, "He never left my side, not even when the Elves came." A grimace passed over his features as he stared towards his brother, who had begun to toss about in restless dreams.

Cami knelt and placed her hand on Phura's shoulder, trying to reassure him. "There's nothing I can do to make this easy. But I promise to stay near through the good and the bad. He'll find his way. I'm sure. And I'll do everything I can to help."

"Please believe I'm grateful," Phura begged. "He doesn't belong on Meneltarma. I know that now. But it's hard. Not just for us, but other families as well."

He stared fixedly at Cami, looking for an answer. "This battle against the darkness has taken its toll. So much separation and so many deaths, and yet so much joy and promise. It's difficult to understand, no matter how much lore or learning you have..."

Cami reached over and, with trembling fingers, cradled the boy's hand in her own. "I have no real answer. But I think you have to believe there's some reason behind it, that you're part of a tale that's bigger than yourself, and that your choices make a difference."

"Never forget. You were a steady beacon for your brother. That strength will still be there in his heart, even when your physical presence is far away. Just as he'll be there for you. And someday you will laugh again." She looked upward at the sky with its tiny lights aglitter, like a beckoning portal to another world.

"I hope so," Phura whispered.

Cami fingered the green gemstone that hung silently about her neck, and replied with quiet dignity, "I am certain of it."

Pulling up his blanket, Phura rolled over as Cami rose to leave. She glanced at the far side of the oak and was surprised to spy the lean figure of Legalos standing in the shadows, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. Cami wondered how long he'd been there. He had not approached her the entire day. She was grateful for the Elves' presence at the campsite and their gracious songs and tales, but also realized they would not have shown such courtesy if it had not been for Piosenniel.

The Elf extended his hand to her. "Lady, I am truly sorry. I did not mean to stand here unannounced and hear things meant for other ears. My mind was dwelling on different matters until your words to the boy brought me back. And somehow, then, I could not move."

Cami smiled, "Perhaps you were meant to catch a glimpse of the strange road on which we've travelled. We seek a quiet place to live in Middle-earth, where we can be close to the trees and the soil, and where peril may be kept at bay. I don't know when we will find such a refuge, but we, or our kin, will keep trying till we succeed."

Cami hesitated, then continued. "You are people of deep wisdom, and perhaps find our concerns too small. But for hobbits, things like family and children and food shared around a table bring life and warmth. Once my people had learning and lore, not so great as yours, but enough that it gave them joy."

Her mind ranged back to the hobbit community of Gondolin, with its lyric poetry and sweet hymns to Nienna and Eru. But all that knowledge had faded away, and even the rescue in the Tombs could not make it whole again. "Sadly, much has been stripped from my people by the machinations of the shadow. There is no way to make it return. We must find our own road, one far different than yours, yet still filled with goodness." Cami's voice held quiet sorrow.

The Elf met her eyes and replied, "I will not ask to learn more of your people or their past. Mithrandir has told me but a little and, with that, I will be content."

"Know this. It is not our custom to take other folk along with us. But for the time that you will be on this road, you shall walk beside us and camp near our fires. I would have said this before out of respect for Mithrandir. But now that I realize your folk have carried some hidden burden in the fight against the Enemy, I say it out of respect for them as well."

He bowed his head in acknowledgment. "We will dwell in peace in Greenwood, each going our separate ways. But, perhaps now or in some distant days, a great threat will arise, and we will join together to fight a common foe. Cami Goodchild, I name you Elf-friend, for you are good friend to Piosenniel and your eyes have the look of one who has learned to laugh even in the face of brokeness. On the morrow, we will meet and discuss what path we should take to reach the northern woods."

Cami turned back to the fire, and fought the tears of relief and sorrow that threatened to spill out on her cheeks. She slipped the letter from beneath her belt, where it had lain all day, and held it down to catch the last flicker of light from the dying ash. She could just make out the message, written in Gandalf's strong but graceful script:

Dear Cami,

I had hoped to be present when the hobbits arrived. Alas, that cannot be. I find myself burdened with serious matters requiring immediate attention.

Give my best greetings to Piosenniel, Bird, and Mithadan, for if you have come this far, they must have served you well. I have sent my fellow wizard Radagast to help you. He is a gentle and wise fellow. Cami, do not vex him as you sometimes do, as he is not used to such a sharp tongue.

I have also asked the Woodland Elves to aid you on your journey. Open your heart a bit to Legalos, and you may find him a friend to the hobbits.

Finally, both you and Rose will need ponies to make your rounds teaching and healing your kin. I have secured two steady mounts for this purpose. The grey named Thistle is for Rose, and the chestnut with the silky mane, called Heathertoes, is to be your own. Radagast will deliver them to you.

Please accept this present for the services you have rendered, and that which you must still do. I hope to visit you near the Forest River before the first leaves of autumn fall.

Yours,
GANDALF

Cami smiled and folded the letter, replacing it under her belt. Then she found a small nook not too far from Rose, and soon fell into dreamless slumber.

*********************************************

BIRD'S POST:

"Pay attention!"
The strange, brown-clad wizard's eyes snapped back into focus and he turned his head once more towards the little skin-changer. The morning fog crept down from off the Amon Hen, blocking the sight of the stone watchers there and creeping under Birdie's cloak. She rose from her crouch and stamped her dew-soaked boots, as much in irritation as to warm her feet.

"Did you even hear a word I said?" she snapped.

"Of course," said Radagast, "But do you hear them? The dawn chorus? The voices of the birds? They speak the secrets of all of Middle-earth. One would be wise to listen more to the beasts and fowl of the world, for they are Eru's children, as well."

"I hear them! I hear them! Haven't they been waking me every morning at the crack of dawn since we started this journey upriver? Just once I would wish the Children of Eru to pipe down and wake at a more reasonable hour." she grumbled. "So you will keep watch on them? Cami, and Gamba, and all the rest?"

"Yes, yes," Radagast waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Haven't I sworn it to you, over and over for the past hour? I will do all in my power to guide them and watch over them."

"And the Elves? You won't let the Elves forget?"

"The Elves never forget, my dear woman. Whether they choose to act is another matter altogether. But I will do my best to keep the Halflings in their thoughts. Though from what you say, they will have other, weightier troubles to occupy them soon."

Bird stood looking down at the damp Wizard, who had tilted his head and raised his eyes to the surrounding trees again. She shook her head in sadness and vexation. She had done all she could, broken a dozen promises not to reveal the course of Time to those of this Age. ("But he's a Wizard! They know all already." she had reasoned to herself.)

But she knew it was no use. Wizards, Elves, Men and all. They would forget. All but one. Perhaps it was meant to be. The only comfort she could give herself was that her cojoling and nagging would hold in Radagast's mind long enough to give Cami's folk some time. Just a little time to learn the way of this world and how to deal with it. That and her Name. It was all the power she had. It was all she could give.

"Listen..." whispered Radagast. "Do you hear?"

Bird turned and walked back down the slope towards the ship. The voices of the bird-folk followed her.

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]