In the Shadow of the Star: Part 1

[piosenniel]

At the wishes of Amaranthas, it seemed, daylight lingered long into the evening. The children had eaten quickly, wanting to get back to their games of tag, and Blind Man’s Bluff, and Hide and Seek with its calls of ‘All-y, All-y, Oxen Free’. Mithadan, Merimac and Ban were recruited for a hastily planned game of Hobbits and Trolls. Giggles and screeches of delight rent the evening air as the youngsters eluded the grasps of the dim-witted, lumbering trolls. And in the end there were ‘oomphs’ and gasps and finally deep laughs as the ‘trolls’ were attacked by the doughty band of Hobbits and subdued.

Once the sun had set, Frodo-lad, with Elanor and Rose lit the candle lanterns, and games turned to story telling. The lure of fireflies drew the younger ones from the story circle, and they ran happily beneath the trees with jars supplied from Amaranthas’ pantry, following the winged lights.

[ March 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nurumaiel]

Nurumaiel's post

Angelica held Prisca tightly in her arms and Madoc held Fosco. "Where's Dad?" Madoc groaned. "Fosco is getting heavier."

"Don't let him go," Angelica warned. "If you do, I'll make you clean up whatever mess he makes. Hold him. I'm going to find your father." She heard the screeches and giggles of children coming from a few feet away, and suddenly Fosco came whizzing by, screaming loudly.

"Sorry, Mum," said Madoc. "I couldn't hold him any longer."

"Well, go find him, lad," said Angelica, sitting down on the grass and leaning back. "Go find him."

"Yes, Mum." Madoc hurried off towards the crowd of hobbits.

Angelica leaned back, still holding Prisca, and stared up at the sky, which was darkening to evening. "When is the last time I went to so many parties at once?" she asked herself quietly, closing her eyes. She wasn't expecting an answer, but one came.

"When all the young hobbit lads in the Shire were courting you," a voice above her said.

Angelica opened her eyes and stared upwards to see Peony Muddyfoot grinning down at her. Sitting up, Angelica scowled at her. "I told you to come here early so we could talk with Pio," she said. "No doubt the party will end soon."

"There's still time," said Peony. "And if there isn't, we can always meet again some other time. I mainly wanted to see you again, Angelica." She smiled down at Prisca. "And your little ones," she added, picking the young hobbit girl up.

"Well, let's see if we can find Pio. I'm anxious to have her meet you."

"You seem worried about this little 'job.'"

"If I seem worried, Peony, it's because of one thing: I am worried. I'll be glad to have you by my side when the day comes."

And the two went off to find Pio.

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Pio's post

'Miz Pio! Miz Pio! Throw it back, please.’ Little Goldi clapped her hands and pointed to the little striped ball that had rolled to the edge of Pio’s chair.

‘Oof! Easier said than done!’ Pio bent down carefully trying to keep in balance and retrieved the escapee. ‘Here it comes! Get ready.’ She rolled the ball quickly toward the toddler and her playmate, Prisca. Goldi scooped up the ball in her chubby little hands and went running off, Prisca laughing after her.

Rising back up, Pio noted Angelica making her way toward her, with someone in tow. ‘Who is that?’ she whispered to Amaranthas, nodding her head toward the two approaching ladies. ‘That other woman with Angelica.’ Amaranthas leaned near. ‘That’s your other midwive, I do believe.’

Fosco had run up to his mother and engaged her in the settling of some dispute, and so the advance of the two women toward Pio had halted for the moment.

‘Tell me a little about her.’ Pio watched the other woman with Angelica crouch down to speak with the angry three year old. She was calm, and let him speak his piece; then, spoke softly with him, until his anger was defused. Pio watched as he nodded his head, then walked off looking somewhat satisfied.

The woman, she learned, was Peony Mudfoot, thirty-eight years old, and the youngest sister to Merimac. ‘Never been married and said she never means to,’ added Amaranthas, ‘Though it is my opinion that if the right man asked her she would.’

When Merimac had moved from Michel Delving to Hobbiton with Angelica, Peony had also moved. She lived in her own hole there, and had a family who boarded with her – Bingo and Belladonna Tussock, originally from Longbottom. These boarders had been a source of some contention between Angelica and Peony, as Angelica refused to leave her children with her sister-in-law, believing that the Tussock children had taught Fosco some rather bad habits.

Peony had been the midwife for Angelica when she had Madoc and for Melilot Tunnelly, and done an excellent job at getting those two through their birthings. The old Hobbit went on to tell how Peony was an admirable Hobbit lass in her opinion. Calm and confident, was how she described her. Outspoken at times, but very kind. ‘Got a good head on her shoulders, that one does,’ said Amaranthas in approval. ‘She’ll make a good balance to Angelica.’

Pio raised her eyebrows at this statement. ‘Oh, mind you now,’ Amaranthas went on, ‘Angelica is very good at midwiving. She’s just wound a little tight at times, and comes off as the nervous type. All I’m saying is that Peony will keep her a little more focused and calm.’

‘Ah!’ Pio turned her head from Amaranthas, and smiled as the two ladies approached. ‘Nice to see that you and your family could come, Angelica.’ She smiled warmly at Peony. ‘And who is this charming lady that I have yet to meet. Please introduce us.’

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

Pio was thoroughly charmed by Peony. After the initial fascination had worn off for her that she was to be midwife to an Elf, the Hobbit’s level headedness shone through. She took it for granted that Pio, being a first time mother and none too knowledgeable concerning birthing and all that it entailed, would have many questions, and she opened the doorway in a matter of fact way for the Elf to ask. Pio found herself easily drawn out by her. Her confidence in Peony grew by leaps and bounds as she asked questions or discussed reasons for doing things one way rather than another. By the end of their conversation, Pio was feeling quite confident that Peony was indeed an excellent choice for the job.

Mithadan had wandered over, the games done with the children. Pio watched Peony’s eyes grow wide at the sight of the man, seating himself by the Elf and holding her hand in his. She could almost read the Hobbit’s opinion of Men written on her face. ‘ . . . a bother, and unimportant . . .’

Pio held back a laugh and introduced Mithadan to the unimpressed Hobbit. Peony nodded at him, and he, in turn, was as gracious and charming as he could be. He engaged her in conversation, and Peony found her opinion of him going up somewhat.


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Nurumaiel's post

"Raaar!" Fosco shouted, charging at his father. "I am going to beat you trolls! I am a super tough hobbit!"

"Who are you?" Elanor asked.

Fosco stared in horror, and then ran to his father. "Daddy, who am I?" he asked.

"Well… how about Frodo?" Merimac suggested.

"I am Frodo!" Fosco roared.

"No, I'm Frodo!" Frodo-lad protested.

Fosco plopped down and began to think. Then he stood up, a huge grin on his face. Glaring at the trolls once more, he shouted, "I am my Daddy! He's the toughest Daddy of all! Raaar!" Running up to Mithadan, he scowled furiously and said in a deep voice, "You won't hurt my family, you big ugly troll! I am too tough for that!"

Madoc was shaking with laughter and brushing tears from his eyes. His brother sometimes!

The troll game ended with the grand victory of the stalwart band of little hobbits. The sky had grown dark, and then story-telling began. Fosco told the story of how he, Merimac Muddyfoot, had defeated all the trolls and saved the Shire. As he demonstrated on his father how he killed the trolls, a firefly passed right in front of his face.

"Oh ho!" he cried, standing up and watching the firefly disappear in the distance. "Dragons, eh? Well, I shall stop them from burning the Shire!" And with that he toddled after them, still screaming their doom.

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

Bill Ferny crouched low underneath the window at Bag End, a cruel expression on his face. He had just come from the Pony at Bree, where he had heard from some Hobbits a rumor saying Frodo Baggins was back in the Shire.

A hobbit stepped into the room. Bill strained his eyes, and then his face seem to twist up. There was no mistaking it: There stood Frodo Baggins, once more in the Shire.

"It was a mistake for you to come back, Baggins," Bill hissed. "You will regret it."

And then Bilbo came into the room. Bill could catch some words of a conversation. Bilbo moved towards the window. Cursing under his breath, Bill darted away, hiding behind a bush in the garden. Looking back at the window, he saw Bilbo staring out, a suspicious look on his face. Then the old hobbit turned away from the window. Bill jumped the low fence and ran down the road, his mind already working as to how he could get his revenge.

As he passed one hole, he heard the sound of merry-making and the delighted laughter of children. He slowed down to a walk, and his eyes narrowed as he saw a little boy come running towards the road, screaming at a firefly.

"Young hobbit!" Bill said, taking the cruel expression off his face. "Come here for a moment."

Fosco stopped chasing the firefly and stared at the man. "What do you want?" he asked. "Are you here for the party, too?"

"No," said Bill, smiling at him. "But I wish I were. Sounds like lots of fun. To tell the truth, I was invited, but I was too busy to come."

"You were at the Bag End party?"

"The… Oh, yes, I was. I got invited to two parties, and I decided I should go see my old friend - " Bill grinned cruelly " - Frodo Baggins. But I'm hear to ask if there were any more friends of good old Frodo here?"

"Yes," said Fosco. "My mummy is a friend of Frodo. She's related to him, actually. I think she's like his cousin or something. And then there are all Sam's kids here. Sam is a friend of Frodo. Did you see Sam at the Bag End party?"

"Oh, yes, yes, I did. Are there any other friends of Frodo here?"

"Why don't you go find out?" Fosco asked, suddenly suspicious.

"I would, lad, but I'm in a great hurry, and I've no time to go running there and ask every person I see if they're a friend of Frodo."

"Oh. That makes sense, I guess… Well, I think that Pio-Elf that Mummy always talks to is a friend of Frodo. Guess what? She's having twins soon. I have a twin, you know. Her name is Prisca, but she's terrible. I hope that Pio-Elf gets twins that are both like me."

Bill grinned wickedly. "Thank you, lad. That's all I wanted to know."

"You look like a troll, too!" said Fosco, suddenly excited. He ran towards Bill and gave him a good kick. "I am my Daddy the Mighty and I defeat all the trolls!"

"Fosco? Fosco Muddyfoot, are you there?" a voice called. "Don't go near the road."

Bill ran down the road, limping slightly from the kick. A plan had formed in his mind. I'll have my revenge, Frodo Baggins… and on you too, Fosco Muddyfoot.

[ March 24, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Child's post

Shortly after Merry's arrival, the group sat down to enjoy their meal. There was a great deal of joshing and laughing, with Sam insisting that Bilbo preside at the head of the table and do the honors of carving the roast. It took only one invitation to persuade the elderly hobbit to take his accustomed spot.

Bilbo laughed at the foolishness of it all, saying it had been a good thirty years since he'd had dinner in the comfort of Bag-end. Still, he seemed to take considerable satisfaction from thinking back on those days, and seeing the younger ones sitting in their usual places.

Frodo was chatting with Pippin about some plan they'd concocted that involved wandering down to the old fishing hole the next day to try out their luck. Pippin was to stay in the guest bedroom for just one night. Miz Rose would be sure and hold them to their promise of catching fish to fix for lunch.

Near the end of dinner, Sam rose to offer a toast, "To friends, wherever we wander, however distant our roads lead, let's not forget each other and the good times we've had." There was a hearty round of applause as the hobbits quaffed a final flagon and pushed back their chairs from the table. Sam cleared off the dishes, being careful to sweep out the sitting room so that Miz Rose would not have any bother after she arrived home.

Frodo walked up to Sam to help and, as they washed and dried the dishes, he casually noted, "It must be hard on Rose now, with so much to do in the house, and another one on the way."

Sam nodded in agreement, "It's hard for her. But then, you know, Mr. Frodo, the really important things in life never come without an effort."

Frodo smiled back with a wistful expression on his face, "Yes, that's something we both know." He hesitated a minute and then went on. "You know, Sam, I'd like to help if I could. I mean that."

"Oh, Mr. Frodo, I wouldn't want to put any burden on you."

"Honest, Sam, it would be no burden."

Then Bilbo called to them from the other side of the room, and their conversation was interrupted.


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Piosenniel's post:

It was a pleasant, relaxed evening. And at the end of it, the children had gathered back in round the adults, their tired bodies seated on the ground and leaning up against legs, or seated on willing laps, their tired heads drowsing against chests. ‘Time to go back home,’ said Miz Rose. Elanor fetched the cart and the little ones were trundled into it by Merimac, Ban, and Mithadan. Amaranthas and the others waved them off, assuring Miz Rose there was no need to worry about clean up. They Chubb boys from just down the lane would be coming over tomorrow and would see to everything.

Next to go were Angelica and her family. Pio hugged the Hobbit, much to Angelica’s surprise, saying she should come to the Inn again soon and bring Prisca again, as Hob really enjoyed being with her. ‘In fact, I think if you brought all three it would work out just fine. Hob and Minta should get to know them, before you leave the children with them - while you are midwiving for me.’ She saw the look of doubt on Angelica’s face. ‘Minta comes from a large family of rowdy boys. She will have no trouble taking care of your three. In fact, she looks forward to the challenge.’

The inn’s wagon was brought round by Mithadan. Pio, Rose and the others climbed aboard and made their way under the stars back to the Green Dragon. Pio leaned, tired, against Mithadan speaking softly to him, and laughing at his answers. Ban and Zira with Azra in her arms, sat together in the back, his arm about her shoulders as they watched the moon glide along behind the wagon in the branches of the trees.

On blankets in the bed of the wagon, Rose and Abar lay side by side, looking at the twinkling clusters of stars overhead. They pointed out the familiar forms and named them, each in their own way. ‘Pretty, isn’t it,’ said Abar as he pointed out the Burning Briar, or the Wain as Rose named it.

‘It’s amazing,’ said Rose, as she traced the pattern in the sky. ‘No matter that we call them different names, the same stars shine down on all of us . . .’

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bilbo and Frodo expressed thanks to Sam, and said their goodbyes, agreeing to meet at Bag-end the next morning for an excursion to the old fishing hole. The guest room had been prepared earlier that day, with the bed neatly made up, and towels and a wash basin set alongside a pitcher of fresh water. It was only a short while later that Pippin politely excused himself and retired for the night.

Sam was left alone in the sitting room, listening for the wheels of the cart as they lumbered slowly down the lane and stopped beside the gate. When his ears picked up the familiar sound, he jumped to his feet and ran out to help Miz Rose get down from the wagon. Together, they gathered up the sleeping children within their arms and tucked them into bed.

Miz Rose came into the sitting room and awkwardly maneuvered herself into an easy chair, setting her feet up on the fireplace fender. "We had such a fine time, Sam. I enjoyed seeing everyone, and the children behaved well. I was so proud of them."

Sam looked carefully at his wife. Her face was happy, but her eyes looked tired and her body drooped. Taking care of seven hobbit children was a rich and rewarding task, but Rose had little time for resting or sitting, exactly the type of thing she needed to do more of as her time grew closer.

As if in answer to Sam's unspoken query, Rose looked over at her husband and added, "I think I'll be up to my chores in the morning if I get a good night's sleep. But I'm afraid it's getting harder to carry through all afternoon and into the evening."

Sam said nothing out loud, but began to think what he might do to ease the burden on his wife.

[ March 24, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

24 Lótessë (day after parties)

As the morning broke through, Maura awoke and slipped softly from the hammock. The tiny lass was still sleeping soundly in a ball, with her head tucked down near her chest. Maura was careful not to disturb the girl, but tapped a finger on Cami's shoulder and motioned for her to rise.

Together, they walked to the pond. The sky was pure and blue, with no cloud in sight, as the first rays of the sun slipped above the distant horizon that lay towards the east.

"Ever since my people trekked to Beleriand, trying to find the light, they have done it this way," Maura explained to Cami, taking her right hand in his own. "We stand and face the rising sun, and then say what is in our hearts."

"But the east...why the east? Always in lore, one faces west. Your own people trekked west, and the Elves."

"We do this beause the meaning is in the journey itself, not in the final destination. We are not Elves, however much we sometimes wish we were, to look only to the West. It is the searching of heart and mind that make us more than we are, so we vow to follow the light across the sky, wherever it leads. And we vow to take the journey together."

"Here," he whispered softly, "I will go first."

He tightened his fingers about hers and then spoke, "Cami Goodchild, I pledge my love and heart to you alone. Whatever wisdom I have, whatever goodness lies within me, these are yours to share. I promise to follow the path of the light, so that, even when our bodies are apart, may our hearts journey together."

In reply, Cami spoke these words. "In all my years in Arda, you alone have touched my heart. Though we have only this small window in time, I would not have wished my life any different. I love you, Maura Tuk. May we journey together in spirit and fight to see the light, even in days of shadow and separateness."

Maura rested his arm gently on Cami's shoulder, "May the Valar and the One who is over all bless our union." This time, there were no raucous sounds or noises to interrupt. With fingers trembling, they fell to the soft ground and drew close to one another, finding a small measure of wonder in a world where such things do not come easy.

[ March 24, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Nurumaiel]

Ferny had spent the whole night at the Pony, sipping ale and forming plans in his mind. Now he stood outside the door to Old Stoat's cottage, knocking loudly. Scowling, he bent down to rub his knee, which was still sore from Fosco's kick. "I'll get you, youngun," he muttered under his breath.

No matter how long Bill knocked, Old Stoat didn't answer. Bill was getting impatient. "Open up, Stoatie!" he called. "It's me, Ferny!"

There was still no answer.

"I know you're in there, Stoatie. Come out or I'll just ha' to go in an' get you!" Bill scowled harder. "Old Stoat, if you don't come an' open the door this minute, I'll call off the deal an' you won't get no money!"

Footsteps sounded from inside the house, but still the door did not open.

"I'll report you to the Shirriffs," said Bill, his voice sinking to a whisper. "I'll tell 'em about all those younguns you kidnapped back in Whitfurrows an' Budge Ford."

The door opened, and there stood Old Stoat.

"Were you afraid to open the door?" Ferny asked with a sneer.

"No," said Stoatie hotly. "I was finishin' off my breakfast, that's all."

Ferny stepped into the cottage and closed the door. Walking over to a chair, he sank down in it and rubbed his knee again.

"What happened to yer leg?" Stoatie asked, his voice becoming mocking. "Did ol' Baggins catch ye and give ye a beatin'?"

"You be quiet," Ferny growled. "It was a youngun… kicked me when I wasn't looking." He leaned forward. "An' Stoatie, he was the son of one of Frodo's relatives. I can have my revenge on both at the same time."

"What do ye mean? Is Frodo back?"

"He's back all right," said Ferny with a nod. "He's back. Stoatie, there's that Fosco Muddyfoot who kicked me, and then an Elf-friend of Frodo's who's gonna have twins. Ye know what I'm thinking? The same thing ye did to those two kids a couple weeks back."

"Kidnappin'?"

Ferny smiled. "I just have one question, Stoatie. I can't do it without your help. What do you say to this plan?"

Auriel's Post

Stoatie settled back in a chair by the unlit fire. He had an aptitude for anything underhand and he had found their recent activities rather to his taste. Why take candy from the baby when taking the baby itself was so much more profitable? He could see no difficultly with Ferny's plans.

There were others now working on Ferny's land and a few more seemed to be drifting in each day. Evil attracts evil. Old Stoat considered his masters idea. It was very managable now there was an increasing band of ruffians ostensibly labouring upon the land but really just waiting for the right moment to show their true colours. At least two of them had a dislike for the rumoured wealth and prosperity of the Hobbits. He smiled.

"Aye, Bill. I take to that idea, I do. As long as I gets paid I'm not too concerned what I does for me wages. If you get yer revenge on those stinking creatures well that's just fine an'dandy gov. If you can get us into that Shire I can snaffle yer a halfling bairn."

Nurumaiel's Post

"Good, good," said Ferny, but he still remained leaning forward. "Stoatie, I need you to do something for me. I need you to go to Hobbiton an' do a bit of spying for me. I plan on kidnapping real soon, but I need to know the lay of the land. Someone needs to go scout a little, an' I want you to do it."

"Who do I look for?"

"You should inquire of the whereabouts of Mr. an' Mrs. Muddyfoot. I plan to take their son. An' ask about an Elf-woman."

Stoatie looked like he was about to nod, but then he gave a little snarl and frowned deeply. "Why can't you go yerself?" he asked.

"That Mr. Bilbo spotted me, Stoatie. He didn't see me, but he was suspicious. An' that Frodo would recognize me. You, Stoatie, would just be a stranger. But keep as hidden as you can."

There was a little silence, then Old Stoat nodded. "It'll get done," he said.

"An' I'll need your help when I do the kidnapping. You're experienced at it - " he thought with a cruel smile of the previously kidnapped children " - an' this isn't just your fooling around, Stoatie." Ferny's eyes narrowed. "This is serious, an' I expect you to get the job... right. A course," he added, leaning back, "you'll have me with you."

[ March 24, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[piosenniel]

24 Lótessë

Prim swept through the swinging kitchen doors like a mother duck, her ducklings in tow. It was early morning at the Inn, and she had a busy day planned for them. She rattled off instructions and timelines. They nodded their heads ‘yes’ as she looked back at them, then eyed one another as she turned away.

‘Are we expecting a lot of guests at the Inn?’ whispered Ruby to Buttercup. Buttercup shrugged her shoulders in response. Prim stopped dead in her tracks, and turned hands on hips. ‘Have you two not been listening closely?’ she asked in exasperation. ‘Today we are expecting a good number of tradesmen to come through from the south and east, bringing the wares we need to carry us through a few more months. Those parties will be staying at the Inn, and I want to make sure they are comfortable and happy – it will make bargaining with them all the more easy.’

The sound of a cleaver rapidly hitting the wood of the shopping block was a loud staccato as they entered the room. Cook’s arm moved furiously up and down on a piece of much mutilated, and now unrecognizable meat. Her face was an angry mask of concentration as her arm delivered blow after unrelenting blow.

Ruby and Buttercup hung back, their eyes wide with worry. Prim approached Cook and heard her muttering imprecations with each chop. She reached out her arm and touched Cook on the back, then stepped back apace as the wild-eyed woman turned on her, cleaver raised for another blow.

‘Vinca Bunce! It’s me. Primrose Bolger.’ She gasped a little in surprise as fat tears fell from Cool’s eyes. ‘What’s happened?’

Cook lowered her arm, and the cleaver clattered to the floor. She walked slowly to the table and sat heavily down. Prim, Ruby, and Buttercup drew round her, concerned. A few silent moments passed, then cook spoke.

She reminded them about her news a while ago from Ferdibrand – that certain Men in Bree were grumbling and angry about their ‘unfair lot’ since the new King had come into power. How they’d been ‘cheated’ out of what was their due in the Shire because they could no longer enter as they wanted. Now it seems that some Men had sneaked into the Shire and were working mischief again.

‘And not just little mischief, Prim,’ she sniffed, wiping her eyes with her apron. ‘I heard from one of the tradesmen just come through the Eastfarthing on the Great Road. There’s been two children kidnapped there.’ There was a sharp intake of breath from all three listeners.

‘Where?’ asked Buttercup, in a thin whisper.

‘One from Whitfurrows. And the other from Budge Ford.’ Prim took the chilled hands of Cook in hers and squeezed them, as much for her own comfort as to reassure the other woman.

Cook turned her teary face to Prim. ‘He didn’t know the name of the little one taken in Budge Ford. My son lives there, with his family. I have a little grandson . . .’ Her worried voice trailed off, not wanting to say what she feared.

Prim murmured a few soothing words to Cook, then bade Ruby get her a strong cup of tea with a generous drop of the special ‘medicine’ kept in the cupboard above the sink. Buttercup, she directed to clean up the cutting board and get the noon meal started. ‘Leftovers, will have to do if that’s all you can manage.’

Leaving the Inn and Cook to the ministrations of the two, Prim took off her apron and hung it hastily on the peg by the back kitchen door. She jammed her straw hat on her head and strode quickly to the stables.

‘Hob Hamfast!’ she yelled, and his face quickly appeared, looking somewhat surprised, from the interior of the stable. ‘Saddle me up one of the ponies, Hob. I’m riding to the Locks to pay Halfred Whitfoot a visit.’

[piosenniel]

‘Come on! Cook should have made her pastries for second breakfast by now.’ Pio looked out the window at the bright sunshine and cloudless sky, then tossed the pile of clothes on the chair to Mithadan. ‘It looks to be the start of a lovely day. Perhaps we can take the cart out for a ride, see the countryside, have a picnic, anything to get us out into the fresh air.’ Laughing she pulled his shirt over his head as he sat up in bed.

Minutes later he was up and followed after her, jamming his feet into his boots as he made his way to the door. He rubbed his hand over his chin, and thought ruefully he should take time to shave. But Pio grabbed him by the hand and hurried him to the kitchen.

It was a somber scene which greeted them as they entered. Pio looked about hopefully for the blackberry muffins she expected, but not even a crumb gave evidence of their whereabouts and no aroma of possible treasures still in the oven made their way to her nose.

Cook had retired to her room. And Buttercup stood at the counter slicing bread into thick slices and toasting them. ‘There’s naught but toast and jams or cheeses for second breakfast, Mistress Piosenniel. Cooks taken to her room for the day and Prim’s gone off for a while. So, I’m doing the best I can. There’ll be soup for lunch. I found some put away in the cooler. But what we’ll be having for the evening meal is anybody’s guess.’

Mithadan rounded up three mugs of tea and a plate stacked high with toasted bread. He pulled out the chairs for Pio and for Buttercup, who blushed at his courteous behavior. ‘Sit down, Buttercup, and tell us what has happened.’ Pio spread a generous helping of gooseberry jam on her toast, and took a bite, offering the plate of toast and the jam jar to the Hobbit.

Buttercup shook her head ‘no’ and passed everything on to Mithadan. She sipped her tea while telling them the story that Cook had related that morning about the kidnappings, and finishing with the departure of Prim to speak to the Shiriff about the need for extra vigilance in this part of the Shire.

Pio’s face grew grave as Buttercup talked on. The thought that someone was kidnapping children made her angry, and her fingers flexed reflexively, as if to grab at some weapon and join in the hunt for such an evil person. She looked at Mithadan, who had been listening intently to the Hobbit’s story. The Shiriff would once again be hounding him she feared. He was too convenient a Man to escape the suspicions she knew would be growing against him.

She reached for his hand, trying not to feel alarmed. ‘Perhaps we should just spend a quiet day here at the Inn. Suddenly I am not sure a ride in the countryside would be a good idea . . .

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Frodo was loading up on fishing gear that he'd found in one of the cupboards from the Inn. He'd risen early, intending to meet Sam and Pippin at the pond, in hopes of capturing a good mess of fish that they could take over to Miz Rose and fry up for lunch. Bilbo had decided to stay at the Inn, since he was still tired from his adventures of the evening before.

Just as Frodo was sprinting out the door, he heard a stern voice calling him back, "Oh, no you don't. You're not going anywhere without this." Bilbo held out a heavy cudgel that had evidently been pried loose from a tree in the Inn's courtyard. It was a good three feet long and as thick around as a hobbit's arm might be.

"What's this for?" Frodo queried in complete bewilderment. A slight smile creased his lips as he turned towards his uncle, "Am I supposed to cudgel the fish?"

"My boy, this is no laughing matter." Bilbo wagged a finger under Frodo's nose. "Last night at Bag-end, while you were cavorting with your friends, I happened to look out the window. Frodo, there was a strange shadow there, and I swear I saw a pair of eyes staring back. And what an evil look they had!"

"Perhaps it was just another hobbit out for an evening stroll, or maybe your own eyes deceived you."

Bilbo turned to his nephew and crossed his arms, a look of certainty etched on his face. "Hobbits aren't six feet tall. I tell you one of the big folk was there, sneaking around."

"Bilbo, I find this hard to believe. You spent the entire week convincing me that the Shire is a safe place for us, and now you say there are prowlers?"

Bilbo dug in his heels and looked stubbornly at his nephew, "Frodo Baggins, believe me or not. It's your choice, but you will carry this cudgel. And here's a second one. Give this to Cami. She and Maura have a burrow by the pond. I suspect they're completely defenseless."

Frodo sighed. He truly had no idea what to believe. Bilbo was evidently convinced he'd seen something suspicious. Perhaps he was mistaken, but maybe there had actually been something lurking in the bushes, some hidden danger that posed a threat to them. In any case, Frodo had no wish to hurt his uncle's feelings so he took one cudgel for himself, intending to use it as a walking stick, and promised to give the other to Maura. As he went out the door, one last thought crossed his mind. It might be wise to tell Sam exactly what Bilbo had said.

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Milo danced nervously from foot to the other as Halfred sat at the desk in the back office, head buried in some papers he was reading, and tried to ignore him. Finally, when Milo began clearing his throat in an increasingly loud manner, Halfred looked up over the rim of his half-glasses, and scowled.

‘Can’t you see I’m busy?’ he admonished the nervous deputy. ‘I’ve gotten some quite disturbing information this morning and I need to read it thoroughly. He pointed to the stack of reports he had been sent from various parts of the Shire concerning the upswing in suspicious and unlawful activity.

‘Well, those reports will just have to wait, Halfred Whitfoot!’ Prim came sailing in through the closed door, and pushed Milo out of her way. He blanched at her entrance and nodded his head toward her as he spoke to Halfred. ‘It’s Miz Prim, sir. She’s here to see you on a matter of some importance.’

‘I can see that, Milo,’ came the strained voice of the Shiriff. ‘Why don’t you get us some tea, and I’ll have a talk here with Miz Prim.’

Prim sat herself down in the chair in front of Halfred’s desk and looked directly at him. “I’ve had some rather grim news this morning Halfred, and I want you to reassure me you are doing everything to see that nothing like this happens around here.’ Halfred took off his glasses and paid close attention as Prim told him what Cook had learned that morning from the tradesman. ‘And this isn’t the first we’ve heard of the Big Folk stirring up trouble and grumbling about how poorly they’ve been treated.’ She went on to tell him about Ferdibrand and his trip to Bree-land a fortnight ago. ‘Now we’ve got kidnappers coming into the Shire and taking two little ones in Eastfarthing. It’s getting too close to home, Halfred, what are you going to do to prevent any Hobbiton children from getting kidnapped?’

Halfred sat back in his chair and sighed. He could see how upset she was, and he did not want to tell her that there were already sightings quite near Hobbiton and Bywater of suspicious looking Big Folk skulking about. He leaned forward and answered her with a confident ring to his voice.

‘We’ve got the problem well under control, Miz Prim. Nothing for you to worry about.’ He pointed to his stack of reports. ‘I’ve already read the information on those kidnappings and from what we can see, they were probably isolated incidents, and not any sort of problem that will spread here.’ He smiled, steepling his fingers, and rested his ample chin on them. ‘I’ve put on extra patrols, and we’re interviewing anyone who may have heard of anything suspicious going on around this area.’ Halfred looked thoughtfully at her. ‘Tell me are those Big Folk still staying at the Inn? I may want to ride out there and speak with them.’

Prim shook her head and frowned. ‘Don’t be a fool, Halfred! There’s no need to go bothering Mistress Piosenniel or her Mister. Or their friend, either, for that matter. You’ld best be looking farther afield than the Green Dragon for suspects.’ She hmmphed at him, and stood to go.

‘Nonetheless,’ he said evenly, undaunted by her less than enthusiastic assessment of his plan, ‘they are considered to be “persons of interest”, and I intend to ride over there soon and interview them in a thorough manner.’

Milo, smiling nervously, came in with a small tray holding two mugs of tea. Prim ignored him as he offered one to her, and strode past him determined to tell Miz Pio and Mithadan what the Shiriff had said. Her fears had not been laid to rest by what she’d heard from Halfred. 'The fool has no idea what needs to be done,' she fumed to herself.

As she rode home, she turned over in her own mind what she and the staff might do to defend the Inn should the need arise.

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orual]

"...and you let your mother sleep. She was worn out at the party last night." Sam looked solemnly over his children, all of whom were still a little tired, but eager to tell him everything that had happened at the party. They were all done now, and he was getting ready to meet Frodo and Pippin at the pond. "Ellie, if Hamfast gets hungry--he shouldn't, I've fed him." This was made apparent by the sorry state that the clothes atop the hamper were in, with mashed fruit rubbed in. "Anyway, if he gets hungry, I put some things in this bowl right here that he likes. Just let your mother sleep, and--"

His eldest daughter assured him that she had taken care of her siblings before, and that it would be fine, she could watch them until her mother woke up. Sam told them all that they were the best children any father could hope to have, made one more round to make sure that everything was in order, and finally left for the pond.

Rose had been so tired last night. Sam was sure that she thought she had fooled him, but he was not deceived, and he knew how exhausted she had been. What could he do to ease her load? Elanor, Frodo, and all of the other children did their best to help her, but nonetheless she had a heavy load. Then inspiration struck him, and he quickened his pace.

"Hullo, Frodo! Pippin!" Sam called as he approached the pond. His friends waved cheerfully back at him. He put his gear on the ground, exchanged a few greetings, and then asked Frodo if they could talk for a moment.

"Mr. Frodo, at the party last night, you had asked if there was anything you could do to help," Sam began.

"I did, and I meant it," Frodo said. Sam nodded.

"Well, I was thinking. Rose was exhausted last night, after the party, and she's been wearing herself out recently. It won't be long before she has the baby, and with seven children already here to take care of it hasn't been easy on her. I try to help as much as much as I can, but even two adults isn't always enough. It's just like you said. So, if you're not busy and you're looking for something to do, Rose would appreciate it if you just wanted to come by and help with the children, or errands, or such."

Frodo's face lit up. "Sam, I'd be delighted!"

"That is, if it isn't too much trouble. The children do love spending time with you," Sam added.

"Sam, I'll do anything I can to repay you for all the kindness that you and Rose showed me when I was ill," Frodo said seriously. "I would love to help you now. And your children really are wonderful. I enjoyed our walk. I'll start immediately!"

Sam smiled broadly. "Thank you, Mr. Frodo. We'd appreciate that."

[Child of the 7th Age]

As the pair walked towards Bywater Pond, Sam pointed to the two large sticks his friend was carrying and chuckled, "Mr. Frodo, you must have known I was going to ask you to work with my children. You certainly came prepared." Then he muttered under his breath, "I hope Elanor and Frodo-lad won't be quite as unreasonable as that."

Frodo pulled back startled and shook his head. "Oh, no. That's not it. You're a wonderful father, and your children are a delight to be near."

There was a moment or two of silence between them, while Frodo wondered how to continue, or even if he should bring up the subject at all. Still, how would he feel if something really did happen later, and he hadn't bothered to share what he'd learned with Sam?

"You know, Sam, there's a tale behind these sticks I'd like you to hear. It's probably just nonsense, but you should be the one to judge that. If you have a minute, I promised to deliver this stick to Maura, and you can listen in as well."

By the time they reached the pond, Frodo could see Pippin at the top of the hill carrying his bucket and rod, with a small string of fish already near his side. The two hobbits turned off the path for a moment to veer towards a cluster of deserted burrows. In front of one of them, Cami and Maura sat under a shaded nook beside a small table, having a bit of tea and thick slices of bread with jam. The couple laughed and talked as they watched a tiny lass scamper back and forth from one side of the grove to the other.

Maura rose to greet them, and offered some tea which was politely accepted. Within a few moments, the two stories had been laid out. Cami explained how she and Maura had found the girl in a basket, and what they'd learned from reading the images in her head. Frodo, in turn, shared Bilbo's tale about a shadow outside Bag-end that his uncle swore was one of the big folk, and then explained why he had the sticks.

"I suppose it might be some horrible mistake," Frodo noted, "although Bilbo is usually a reliable observer."

Cami took the cudgel and thanked Frodo for the information, but looked a bit distressed to hear the news about possible prowlers in their neighborhood. Maura was quiet, but listened to every word, keeping his thoughts to himself. Ater finishing their tea, the couple said goodbye, explaining that they needed to return to the Inn to take care of business. Cami scooped up the little one in her arms. Then Maura set the girl atop his shoulders, as they headed off in the direction of the Inn.

Returning to the main path, Frodo darted a nervous look at Sam and asked what he thought of the news that Bilbo had brought.

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As Cami and Maura made their way through the back door of the Inn that led directly to the kitchen, they were greeted by a distraught Buttercup whose eyes were still red and swollen from cying.

"Oh, Miss Cami, won't you help us with lunch? Cook's upset and can't do any work." After making this request, Buttercup hastily blurted out her news about the bandits and how they had come to Whitfurrows and Budge Ford, kidnapping two of the children there.

Cami's face blanched at hearing these words. It was one more disturbing piece of a puzzle whose meaning was becoming all too clear. She promised to return and help in the kitchen once she'd had a chance to talk with Piosenniel and Mithadan.

Maura's face was a mask of concern as he led Cami, still holding the little one, over to the secluded spot where the Elf and Man were said to have taken their breakfast. "There's no way that Bilbo was mistaken, not after hearing a tale like that. The first night Ban came, he told me he saw something suspicious. I should have taken him seriously then. He was a sentry in Gondolin and knew how to spot things. If I'd paid closer attention, maybe none of this would have happened.

"I'm not going to be caught napping again. This sounds to me like more than one or two prowlers. We could be in for a rough time. If so, I need a better weapon than this." He held up the cudgel Frodo had given him.

"Cami, how many of the hobbits in the Shire have had any experience with weapons?"

"Few, very few," Cami responded. "Other than one or two incidents at the end of the last war, the Shire has been quiet. There was no reason for hobbits to own a dagger or sword."

Maura shook his head and sighed. He had never regarded himself as a fighter. Yet he did have a great deal of experience. All of the hobbits in Beleriand had seen constant skirmishes and warfare, as they'd been forced to retreat from one city to the next, trying to withstand the forces of Morgoth.

"You wanted to see Pio about those herbs for the girl. Let's see if Mithadan can get hold of some weapons for us. What I would give to have my sword or bow right now! Hopefully, we'll never have to use them, but I won't sit here unprepared, while gangs of unfriendly Men roam through the Shire making serious mischief."

As Cami and Maura approached the courtyard, Pio and Mith looked up in surprise to see Cami still carrying the small hobbit lass.

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

It was not surprise which graced the features of Pio’s face. It was amusement. ‘Look!’ she said, drawing Mithadan’s attention to the approaching couple holding the baby. ‘It seems as if Cami has attracted another stray.’ Mithadan laughed, and looked at Pio thoughtfully. ‘Yes, well she seems to have that talent, doesn’t she? People of all sorts come under the power of her presence, don’t they?’

Man and Elf stood as the trio approached. The new couple was greeted warmly with handshakes and embraces. Pio bent down to hug Cami, who held the little one in her arms. A small gasp escaped the Elf, and stepping back, her eyes glinting, she looked closely at Cami. Pio opened her mouth to speak, but her words were swept away by a howl from the little girl.

Little one! Your ear is hurting! Pio’s hand went soothingly to the side of the baby’s face. ‘Cami, I have my bag of medicinal herbs in my room. Let us see what we can find for her.’ The two women and the sniffling child went into the kitchen.

Pio directed Buttercup to heat up a cup of salt in one of the frying pans, while she found one of her clean socks and her herb kit. The warm salt was poured into the sock and held lightly against the baby’s ear – the heat from it bringing some relief for the pain. Pio showed Cami the proportions for a mixture of willow bark and a pinch of athelas in a small dollop of honey. She put a small drop of the mixture on her little finger and teased open the mouth of the little girl with the sweetness of it, depositing it deftly on the roof of the child’s mouth. Tastes good, does it not, little one!

Mithadan and Maura came in to the kitchen, their faces serious, reflecting the gravity of their conversation. ‘I travelled quickly here from Gondor, bringing only what I thought I might need,’ she heard Mithadan say. ‘Let’s see if Piosenniel can draw on her resources here . . .’

‘And what resources are those that will you be needing, Maura?’

Pio handed the little one back to Cami and bade them all sit down at the table. Maura spoke of his concerns about the increasing number of incidents involving unfriendly he had just learned about. He spoke of his need to arm himself and Cami to defend their family and those around them as need be.

‘A sword, I think for myself. And a bow for Cami.’ Pio looked with interest at Cami. ‘You will take up a weapon?’ she asked, remembering her frustration in earlier situations where the obstinate Hobbit refused to arm herself. ‘To defend myself and my family,’ came the unhesitating answer.

‘Your family . . . yes . . .’

Pio stood and motioned them to follow her to her rooms. From the chest in the front room, she took out a bundle rolled up in oiled leather. It was about three and a half feet long, with the ends folded over and securely fastened with leather ties. She unrolled it on the floor, and the well polished blades caught the light and gleamed. Maura smiled appreciatively, his hands longing to touch them. Her eyes roamed appraisingly over the five long knives, coming to rest on the last one.

‘Stand up, please,’ she directed him, eyeing his height and the muscling of his arms. She picked up the knife she thought would suit him best. The sharp, double-edged blade was the shape of a long slender leaf, twenty inches of fine Dwarven steel. Seven more inches finished off the length of the haft from the cross piece to the simple ball pommel. ‘It is a light and sturdy blade, Maura. It should serve you well.’ She watched as his hand closed round the leather bound grip and he swung it carefully in a few practice strokes.

It fits your hand well, Master Bladesman. May you find no cause to use it.

Pio looked up at Cami from her seat on the floor. ‘It will take me a little longer to get a bow for you.’ Mithadan gave her a hand up, and she stood, rubbing the small of her back. ‘Perhaps you and Maura can talk strategy and planning, Mithadan. Surely we can help organize, if only from behind the scenes.’

A movement outside the window caught her eye. ‘Ah, there’s the answer to the other needed weapon!’

She took Cami by the hand, and pulled her from the room, leaving Mithadan and Maura to talk. ‘I saw Hob,’ she said, ‘just cross the yard into the stable. He does some hunting for the Inn as does his friend. I think we can get a bow for you from one of them . . .’

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

Child's post

Cami had gone to visit Hob at Pio's suggestion, hoping that he could find her a suitable bow. However, all of the hunting bows he pulled out for her had a much heavier pull than she felt comfortable with. Hob had just given up on his search and left, when Minta poked her head through the stable door. She'd heard the rumors about Cami's young charge and wanted to have a look herself.

Minta led Cami back into the house. She grinned broadly at the little one toddling along behind them who was already feeling better from the effects of Pio's herbs. "What's her name?," she asked.

"Her name?" Cami's mind went blank. "I'm afraid we haven't given her one yet."

"But you and Maura must come up with something," Minta urged. "Otherwise, it could be bad luck, and these days we don't need any bad luck, especially with children."

Cami knew she was referring to the recent events in East Farthing but did not want to call them by name for fear they would somehow leap over to Bywater and Hobbiton and take on new life of their own accord.

Cami promised that she and Maura would decide on a name that very evening and let Minta know the next day. Laughing and joking, Minta caught up the child in her arms and offered to look out for her whenever Cami needed to work in the Inn, a proposal which Cami quickly accepted.

"Now about that bow. Leave it to my husband to come up with something that's twice as tall as you need and with a pull that's far too heavy for you to handle. I think I have something that will work a little better."

She went to a storage cupboard and removed a wooden bow, that was carefully crafted to Cami's proportions and height. "I've two of these. My father made them for my brothers. But after they outgrew them, I managed to get them myself."

Minta stroked the bow with firm but loving hands in a way that suggested she knew how to use it. Cami looked at her with surprise. She had never dreamed that this mild hobbit woman had ever handled a weapon of any kind.

"With five brothers, I couldn't help but learn a few things about bows and woodcraft and such. My brothers would never admit it, but I could hit the target as often as they did, and took down just as much game." Here Minta lowered her voice. "To tell the truth, after I heard the rumors about the bandits, I got out my own bow and went out in the field to practice again."

Cami looked cautiously about, as if she was afraid that someone might overhear. "I thought I was the only lass in the Shire who ever took to such things."

"You'd be surprised. There are a few of us, though we don't make a point of parading it through the marketplace." Then Cami told her how her own daughter Rose had learned to wield a short sword. Minta looked at her admiringly, "Not even my brothers can do that."

Cami thanked Minta and was just about to leave when the two-year old lass began fiddling with the bowstring and going through Cami's new quiver of arrows, dragging them out one by one. The child held one up to her nose and peered down at it intently. "Stop that now," Cami chastised her, grabbing the arrow back as quickly as she could.

"No, no. Lolly want. Lolly like."

The lass again reached out for the bow until Cami managed to pull her up by the shoulders, her little arms and legs beating the air in complete frustration at the prospect of being separated from such a treasure.

Minta took the squawling bundle from Cami and grinned, "This one certainly has a mind of her own, and seems to have a liking for bows and such. But I'll keep her out of mischief, I promise."

As Cami took up the bow and made her way back to her room to store it away, a random thought occurred to her, and she burst out laughing. A very headstrong little girl who called herself "Lolly" and who could not put down the arrow. It should not be hard to find a suitable name. She made a note in her head to talk with Maura as soon as she could.

[ March 27, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Orual]

The news of the supposed skulker outside of Bag End had worried Sam. He thought of his children at home with their mother, who was hardly capable of protect herself against an attacker, as pregnant as she was, much less protecting all seven of their children.

"What do you think, Sam?" Frodo asked. Sam startled out of his thoughts.

"Think about what, Mr. Frodo?" he asked.

"About Bilbo's news, what he saw outside last night," Frodo explained. He looked a little anxious himself.

"I have to say it worries me, Mr. Frodo," Sam confessed. "Thinking of Rose and the children home alone, and Rose in no condition to defend them. Frodo-lad's getting older, but he's still not big enough or strong enough to take on a full-grown hobbit, much less one of the Big Folk. I'd like to think that Mr. Bilbo was just mistaken, but I can't convince myself of that. He's too sharp to be wrong about this, and if he's worried enough to send out those cudgels, he'd have to be pretty sure of what he saw. And if he's sure, that's good enough for me, so I'm uncomfortable with the whole business."

Having thus expressed himself, Sam fell into his own thoughts as they walked along the road, mulling over the news, and wondering how he could best protect his family.

[piosenniel]

Halfred urged Thistle to a slower pace as they turned up the lane to the Inn. 'Looks peaceful enough,' he said, taking in the few tradesmen who sat at tables beneath the trees. All Hobbits he noted, in a satisfied manner. Perhaps the Man and his Elf-wife had decided to leave the Shire. He smiled at this thought, a simple daydream beginning that all these problems had left with them. Reality intruded abruptly as Hob led ‘Falmar from the stable, alongside Mithadan’s horse and turned them loose in the large penned in grassy area beneath the trees. Thistle whinnied at the sight of the large horses, as Halfred frowned.

Thistle ambled to the front steps of the Inn, and waited patiently for Halfred to dismount. It was mid-afternoon, and the sun shone down hot on the little pony as well as the leathered back of Halfred’s beefy neck. The Shiriff pulled his green hat off, and grabbing his red cotton hanky from his breeches’ pocket, wiped the sweat from his florid face. He dismounted, and clomped up the steps to the main door, leaving Thistle to wander over to the shady greensward with the other horses.

The interior of the Inn was cool and dim as he entered the door. And he stood blinking in the entrance for a few moments as his eyes adjusted. There were a number of local Hobbits he recognized. One of them hailed him, waving him over with the promise of a half pint and a pipe full of Southern Star. Halfred found his feet heading in that direction when he recalled the reason for his visit to the Inn.

Instead he turned and seeing none of the staff about, headed toward the kitchen. He pushed the doors open quickly, startling Ruby and Buttercup who were busy arranging a platter of bread, meats, cheese, and pickle to offer round to the customers. Their eyes flew wide at the sight of him, and Buttercup drew back, wondering what horrid thing had happened now. Ruby plucked up her courage and stepped boldly in front of him, impeding his progress into the room.

‘Here, now! You’ve got no call to be sneaking up on us, scaring us half to death! Does Miz Prim know you’re here?’ He sputtered at her burst of words, as she went on. She fixed him with her dark brown eyes, standing hands on hips, foot tapping. ‘What are you here for Halfred?’

Halfred drew himself up, and looked at her in his most authoritative manner. ‘There have been some recent disturbances in the Shire of late, and I’ve come to sort them out with persons of interest who might have some knowledge of them.’

Ruby looked at him as if he were speaking some strange language. ‘Speak plain, Halfred Whitfoot. And don’t try to pretty it up with that legal gobbledy-gook!’

Halfred tugged at his collar, trying to dispel the growing sensation that he was about to choke. He was flustered and felt unnerved by this slip of a woman. Taking a deep breath, he blurted out, ‘The Man, Mithadan, I’ve come to question him, and his Elven wife, too, if she’s come back . . .’

[Child of the 7th Age]

As Cami heard the commotion at the door of the kitchen, she set down the serving platters she'd retrieved from the Common Room after the last luncheon setting and came over to find out what was happening.

She could scarcely believe the words she was hearing from Halfred's mouth. Her dear friends, who had given their life's blood to save and preserve the hobbits of Beleriand and Numenor, were now to be taken aside and treated as if they were common criminals. Cami pushed her way to the front of the group and stared at Halfred, spluttering out her rage and frustration.

"Fool of a hobbit. Just ask anyone in the Inn. We can all vouch where the two of them were when these attacks took place. Go ahead, talk to anyone you like, and they'll tell you the very same thing."

Halfred narrowed his eyes and glared back at Cami. "That's not what my sources say. Indeed, your high and mighty friend, the Elf, was out gallavanting about the countryside for a considerable period of time. Her husband arrives here after months of being apart, and, a few days later, his wife disappears with no explanation. The whole thing sounds fishy."

"In any case, Cami Goodchild, I don't believe a word you're saying. You're so enamored of these outsiders that you'd say and do anything on their behalf." He pushed Cami roughly aside and strode forward into the Inn, insisting that Ruby take him to the suspects so he could begin their interrogation.

As the kitchen door slammed shut behind Halfred, Prim tugged on Cami's sleeve, and pulled her into the pantry, lowering her voice so that she could not be heard by anyone casually passing by.

"Don't bother with him, Miz Cami. He's lost all reason and sense. The best thing we can do is to start organizing to defend ourselves against these bandits, and try and come up a plan for figuring out who they really are."

"Cami, I need to stay here and prepare the evening meal, since Cook is still resting. I want you to run over to Bag-end and see if you can persuade Mayor Sam to call a meeting in a day or so for the residents of Bywater and Hobbiton. Then we can talk about these things and decide what we should be doing."

Cami nodded her head in ready agreement and went out to the stables to saddle up a pony. She told Maura she'd be back shortly, then took off speedily for Bag-end, glad to be doing something other than sitting still and worrying.

[ March 27, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Old Stoat threw a cloak, more mud-splattered than his other garments over himself and filled his pockets with any items he considered useful for his little spying mission. Finally he took his beloved knife, gave it a wipe on the cloak's hem and declared himself ready.

Ferny stood by the ancient water pump in the cobbled yard, giving instructions to another of the itinerant workers. Stoatie smiled. He knew that he gave not instructions for the care of the smallholding but instructions for a further spying mission. Each line was being cast out into the stream before Ferny drew in a Hobbit.

"I'm ready gov. You want me to head for Hobbiton, yes?"

"Aye, and keep your wits about you. Those folk may be small but they're far from daft. You'll not be able to walk in all casually like. You'll have to be a canny spy." Ferny barked at him.

Stoatie merely smiled. "Oh aye, I am that," and with that he turned about and set off down the lane. It was a fair journey to Hobbiton from the farm outside Bree. He glanced about him. He wondered if Ferny had another location in mind by way of a hide-out as a delapidated cottage, not much better than a shed, in open country, by the side of the lane was not suitable for the hiding of kidnapped children.

The day passed uneventfully. Old Stoat even managed to resist a little vagabond activity when faced with a fat farmer with an equally fat purse alone upon the road. He could rob someone at any time. His nefarious business with Bill Ferny was actually proving to be quite enjoyable.

He stopped and consulted his little map, hand-drawn on his last visit to those parts when he had met a man upon the road who had been seeking the inn. As he had done on that occasion, Old Stoat left the open road and completed his journey cross-country. He knew where he was headed for but had no intention of letting a soul know he was there.

[piosenniel]

This man is insufferable! If I have to sit here much longer I shall be forced to do something drastic.

Mithadan put his hand on hers. Don’t hurt the Shiriff, Piosenniel. There is no use reasoning with him, either, or so I found out from our previous encounter. Just let him finish speaking and he’ll leave.’

Pio squirmed on the chair in the kitchen as Halfred went on and on with his questions, insinuations, and barely veiled threats. She was uncomfortable today and short tempered from lack of sleep. The twins were up at night, kicking and pushing against her ribs and hip bones. She found it hard to breathe as they pushed upward against her lungs. Her hand rubbed across her belly wondering if she could talk them into either settling down . . . or perhaps coming early.

She laughed abruptly at the thought of going into labor at this very moment. Now that would surely put an end to this ‘interview’. The two men turned to look at her. Halfred glared at her, thinking she was laughing at him. Mithadan offered her a hand up, and she stood, rubbing at the small of her back.

The sudden disruption brought an abrupt halt to the 'interview'. Mithadan shrugged his shoulders at Halfred. ‘You’re a married man, aren’t you, Shiriff. Did your wife get so out of sorts in her last month?’

Halfred watched as Pio paced back and forth. His face softened as he thought of his own wife and babies. ‘It’s a trial, Mister Mithadan. My own Millefoil is a right terror the last few weeks. Just wait until she’s having the babies and tells you she’ll kill you if you ever touch her again.’ Both men turned to watch Pio as she sighed and rubbed again at her back. ‘Begging your pardon,’ remarked Halfred turning the the Man, ‘but yer Missus, looks as if she might be able to follow through on that threat.’

‘Ah, well . . .’ Mithadan ran his hand through his hair, and scratched his head. He smiled in agreement at Halfred, nodding his head.

Halfred put his hat on, and made his way to the door. ‘Look, Mister Mithadan,’ he said quietly, ‘I don’t like the idea of Big Folk in the Shire. They bring trouble with them, even if they don’t cause it directly. It’d be best if you and the Missus were to leave the Shire as soon as you can. Right after the babies are born would be best. There are going to be a lot of hard feelings and harsh words before this whole thing is over. I’d hate to think it would spill over on to some who might be innocent . . .’

Bird, perched on the lintel of the door, watched as Halfred passed through it. A shiver passed through her at the Shiriff’s last words, and she ruffled her feathers trying to shake off the presentiment of impending misfortune.

Mithadan, she saw, was standing near Pio, talking in a low voice to her. His voice was filled with concern and his hand found the small of her back, rubbing it gently, as he moved her from the kitchen toward their rooms. Bird heard him say something about a short nap . . . and, ‘I’ll rub your back til you fall asleep’ . . . ‘You’ll feel better . . .’

Bird glided silently down to the floor, changing into her human form just as she landed. She didn’t like the way things were going in the Shire. Things were askew these days. She sat at the kitchen table, arranging the salt and pepper shakers and the cups left over from afternoon tea into varying formations as ideas about what she could do to help ease the situation came and went under the cold eye of close scrutiny . . .

[ March 28, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

A tall stack of dirty plates stood near the washbasin. The pile was slowly shrinking as Rose Goodchild washed the dishes one at a time and handed them to her mother to dry. All the children had joined Cami and Maura for a picnic supper down by the pond. The boys were outside helping Maura to construct a new windowframe as Gamba had promised, but Rose had slipped into the burrow to talk.

Like Piosenniel, the boys had not been shocked to discover that Cami intended to take in another waif. Ever since arriving in Greenwood, their mother had reached out to every stray critter who came mewing or scratching at the door. To the boys, this latest addition did not seem terribly different. Moreover, Gamba did not regard this tiny lass as any threat to his own way of life, which centered on forests and treetops and chasing after game, or to his treasured relations with his brothers. Once the older boy registered his approval by affectionately lifting the girl onto his lap, the younger ones accepted her without hesitation.

Cami told them she and Maura were naming the toddler "Holly," although she was careful not to offer any reason for this choice. Only later, when she had a chance to be alone with Rose, did she explain that Pio's mother had gone by this same name, and "Piosenniel" itself was an Elvish variant on "Holly". Cami had tried to approach Pio with this news, but she'd been forced to leave a note instead, when Halfred's agent had refused her admission to their room.

For the most part, Cami's conversation with Rose centered on the evil big folk, a topic that was rapidly becoming the main one on everyone's mind. She explained about her short visit to Bag-end that afternoon, and how Sam had already been thinking along the same lines as Prim. Sam had set a time, just two evenings from now, when all the residents of Bywater and Hobbiton would gather together in the Town Hall and come up with ideas on how to deal with the threat of the bandits.

"Rose," she urged, "try to think of something you could do to help, some suggestion you could make, or plan you could devise. Most of these hobbits don't have any weapons' training. A few did fight in the Battle of Bywater, but they have nowhere near the experience you have."

"And Rose, please keep an eye on your brothers. I've warned them to stick close to the Inn and run away if they see any big folk. But you know how Gamba can be. Please be careful yourself. We aren't sure who these robbers are or what they want."

"I promise. I'll do my best," Rose quickly responded. "And I will think about the other. I'll let you know as soon as I come up with something."

Cami hugged her daughter and again reminded her not to lose her head. Then Rose gathered up the boys and headed back toward the Inn and stables, since the small burrow by the pond would not have had enough space even for her to stay the night.

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Orual]

26 Lotessë (27 Thrimidge S.R.)

"Be sure to tell as many as you can about it--I want everyone here who can be here." The messenger nodded, and took off. Sam rubbed his temples. What a time for this to happen! He had been up late last night, trying to prepare for the meeting and helping Rose with a fussy Hamfast. The heavy rings under his eyes testified to that fact.

He sat down at his desk and took a piece of paper, planning to write a letter that he was supposed to have written two days before. His hand dictated what came out, though, and it turned out to be a sketch, a rough drawing of a landscape. He frowned at it, then smiled ruefully at the barren land and the erupting mountain that he had subconsciously drawn. "It could be worse," he told himself. "Yes, it could be." He stood up slowly, pushing the sketch into a drawer, and went to get ready for the meeting.

***

"Thank you all for coming," Sam began, above chairs squeaking and feet shuffling as the hobbits all took their places in the meetingroom of the town hall. "I've called you here to discuss a serious problem facing our community. At a gathering at my house several days ago, one of my guests noticed someone skulking around outside. And no hobbit, either, but a Man, which is, as you all know, in direct violation of the King's edict. Let me continue," he said, as the murmur began to grow. "These bandits, or whatever they are, are obviously bold and dangerous folk to be breaking the laws of the King Elessar. This is something that concerns us all, and should worry us all. I don't know why these Men have come here, or what their plans are for the Shire, but I plan to stop them. For all I know, they could be planning a fireworks show for the children of the Shire, but they are still in violation of the King's laws, and for that they must be driven out. Our Shirrifs will be doing their duties more diligently than ever, but we must help them. I suggest that we organize into teams to patrol the area, especially the roads, and at night, watching for these bandits. But you must all be on the watch, at all times. Keep an eye on your children, or two, if you can! We're doing everything we can, but you must help. I welcome your suggestions and your thoughts." Sam stopped, and waited for someone to speak.

[ March 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nurumaiel]

Auriel's Post

The sun was about to set and dusk slid into the shadowy spaces below the trees or behind walls. Old Stoat took full advantage of the gathering gloom to cover him from prying eyes. He had not the advantages that Hobbits had when required to be silent and sneeky but had nevertheless a whole lifetime of dark deeds where he had honed his skills.

Ahead of him, between the trees, he saw the little buildings that made up Hobbiton. Carefully, so as not to snap a stick or send up a warning call from a resting pheasant, he made his progress. His dark, dirty garments providing an effective camouflage.

He skirted round the buildings but was surprised to find most of the town deserted. Washing flapped plaintively upon lines, uncollected; toys lay upon the grass, abandoned mid-game; the usual aroma of cooking that would greet his nostrils when near the halflings did not waft toward him on the breeze. Something was afoot in Hobbiton. Old Stoat was not afraid but he was certainly curious.

After skirting the perimeter of the town he moved inward with caution. It was not long before he found out the location of its occupants. A large building: he presumed it to be the Town Hall, seemed to be holding a meeting. With great care Stoatie crept around the back and found what looked like a wood shed, built as a lean-to. He tested to see if it would take his man-weight. The ramshakle shed moved slightly but held firm. Old Stoat smiled. There was a small window, set high into the wall, that a man standing upon a woodshed roof might look through. Steadily he mounted the shed roof. Again it shifted slightly, but mercifully made no noise. His eyes, just cleared the sill and he was able to see inside the crowded room below. He could hear nothing but general hubbub. The window was merely decorative and could not be opened. He could not risk breaking it as it would draw attention to himself. Stoatie sighed and tried to concentrate on the goings-on below him.

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

"Mayor Sam," Cami interjected. "The part that's making me nervous is how those two children were kidnapped in the Eastfarthing. It's one thing having bandits who want to rob us or vandalize our homes. But, it's something else entirely to have them threaten our little ones."

Cami glanced at the toddler who had fallen sound asleep and was now draped over Maura's shoulder. They had brought the girl with them, since neither she nor Maura felt comfortable letting Holly out of their sight. In this, they were little different than others in Bywater and Hobbiton. There were a great many hobbit children scattered about the room. The older ones played quietly along the side, while their younger brothers and sisters drifted off to sleep, either in their parents' arms or curled up by their feet.

Miz Rose responded quickly, "I agree, Cami. Our most important job is safeguarding the youngsters. That comes before anything else. We need to use common sense and keep the children close, especially after nightfall."

"We can't be certain the big folk in Hobbiton are the same ones who kidnapped those other children. But, until someone proves differently, I think we should assume the worst."

"What bothers me is that there are many who aren't at this meeting. They may not even realize what's happened. Perhaps, several of us should get together and pay a visit to those families, warning them to keep a close eye on their little ones until things settle down."

There was a general feeling that Miz Rose's suggestion was a sensible one, and Minta readily agreed to be placed in charge of this project. Almost immediately, a number of women came forward and offered to help her.

It was at this point that Tanta Hornblower lumbered forward and glared fiercely at Cami. "Mistress Minta, I hope you have too much good sense to accept that offer of assistance from Cami Goodchild. It is entirely because of her that this whole difficulty has occurred."

Cami leapt to her feet, striding angrily towards Mistress Hornblower to demand an immediate explanation and apology, but was firmly restrained by a determined squeeze on her arm from Miz Rose. Rose turned to face Cami's accuser. "Mistress Hornblower, I hope you don't mean what I think you do. Cami's friends have come here with letters of conduct from Elessar. Big folk or not, I know Mayor Sam considers them our honored guests." Rose purposely stared at the Shirriff who stood at the back of the assembly, guarding the exit door and wearing a dour expression on his face.

Seeing how things were going, Mayor Sam got to his feet and attempted to steer the discussion in a more productive vein, "Anyone else have ideas on how we can deal with the threat from these bandits, or find out who they are?"

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

26 Lotessë - evening

She thought she would stop at the Inn before heading up to Amaranthas’ house. The dear old Hobbit had sent her good directions, but having never been out of Waymeet, Gilly found herself getting a bit lost in this bigger town. Surely someone at the Inn could point her in the right direction. To top it off, it had been a long, hot hike, this last part of the journey, and now evening was upon her. A nice half pint of the Green Dragon’s vaunted ale would go a long way to cooling her parched throat.

Perhaps she could also get look at the lady she was to be nursemaid for. ‘Mistress Piosenniel,’ that is what Amaranthas called her in her letters, and supposedly she was staying at the Inn. Gilly had never seen an Elf, but she had listened closely to all the stories about them, trying to sort out the facts from the fictions and the natural dislike of the unknown and unfamiliar that always seemed to be woven into the stories that filtered through Waymeet. She was prepared to like this lady before she even saw her, if only for the fact that she was something quite outside the bounds of what was considered ‘normal’ and ‘acceptable’ for the good folk of her town, and especially to her family.

There was no local tavern where she had come from, and so she wasn’t quite sure what to expect as she entered the doors and stepped into the cool interior of the Inn.

She stepped from the evening light and blinked her eyes in the more subdued light of the common room. A few more steps brought her to a small table by the door, and she sat down at it gratefully. No one was at the bar, nor did there seem to be anyone about who could help her. In fact, the entire small clientele of the Inn, all males, seemed to be clustered at one end of the room, talking loudly to each other.

Curious, Gilly rose from her table and crept nearer to the outskirts of the group. One of the men stood up and was talking to the others. She listened closely wondering what he was so worried about. Why were these Hobbits up in arms? What had happened that she didn’t know about.

She edged a little closer toward the center of the little group, looking at the faces of those around her. Why were they so frightened?

*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Gilly had retreated from the cluster of Hobbits as the voices rose louder and angrier, feeling frightened herself by the vehemence of some of the talk. She had gone to sit at the bar, hoisting herself up onto one of the barstools, far from the crowd. Just as she looked back over her shoulder at the gathered Hobbits she heard the voice.

‘May I help you?’

Gilly turned to see who had spoken to her and her eyes went wide with wonder. There, behind the bar stood one of the Big Folk, or so she thought at that moment. Tall and fair, she was, and her grey eyes looked with a hint of amusement at the dusty traveler perched at the bar. It was then that Gilly’s gaze moved down the figure, and without thinking she blurted out, ‘You’re pregnant!’ Crimson tinged her cheekbones spread quickly down her neck, as it occurred to her who this woman standing with a furrowed brow before her might be.

‘Mistress Piosenniel, it’s me. Gilly. Gilly Took.’

The Elf looked at her coolly, eyebrows raised. ‘Gilly Took, you say. Should I know you?’

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Pio poured the flustered Hobbit a half pint of ale, inviting her to sit at a table and talk. She was curious why this young woman thought she might know her, and tired of listening to the loud talk of the others fueled by numerous mugs of wine and ale they had consumed.

She eyed them, and shook her head. When they had at first come in, she had given them a flyer about the Town Meeting called by Sam. But they had politely and firmly told her that their business was their own, and they were meeting here. There were ten of them, most from the outlying farms and holdings around the area, all clustered around two of the long tables they had shoved together. Smoke from their pipes hung in a blue haze above their heads, and from what she could see the usual calming effect of the pipe smoking ritual had not abated their anger in the least.

A few cool heads, more thoughtful and analytic were among them, but they were overcome by the angrier members, whose eyes darted every now and then toward her, and not with kindness. She stayed as far from them as she could, allowing them to fill their own tankards.

Distance, though, could not keep the effect of their anger from her. They wanted all the Big Folk away from here, in any way possible. And as their glances fell more and more often on her, she had the urge to stuff her pack with what she needed and drag Mithadan and Bird from this place as quickly as she could. Eight days would bring them to Mithlond; she could have the twins there, and they could book passage on a ship at the Grey Havens and sail to Gondor.

The thought of leaving Cami held her back from following through on this plan. This would be her last time with her dear friend. Though the fact that she was now with Maura would ease their parting when it came. Pio smiled, then, remembering that she had not spoken yet to Cami of what she had learned.

The soft thud of Gilly’s tankard on the table pulled her back from her wool-gathering. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, turning back to face the Hobbit. ‘Where are my manners?’

She introduced herself to Gilly, and got the story from her of how Amaranthas had written her, asking her to come be Pio’s nursemaid. ‘I see now!’ Pio laughed out loud. ‘I think I do remember a quick discussion about this with her and with Angelica, but I did not know the plans were quite so “finalized” between the two of them!’

Gilly blushed, and in turn told Pio about herself, adding that she would be available, and quite willing, to travel once the babies were born. Her eyes glanced over at the gathering, drawn there by a sudden rise in the loudness of the talk. ‘Why are they so angry? What’s happening here?’ And to herself she thought, ‘And why do they keep looking over here with such hateful faces?’

Pio explained briefly what had happened in the past few days, and told her of the reports they’d heard from other parts of the Shire. Gilly shook her head as Pio talked on. ‘There have been rumors of those kind going about in my little part of the Westfarthing, too, Mistress Piosenniel. Of late, people there have thought they’ve seen shadowy, tall figures skulking about on the outskirts of Waymeet. You knew, didn’t you that Waymeet was one of the headquarters for the Chief and his men?’

‘The Chief?’ Pio had no recollection of this name. ‘During the War,’ continued Gilly, ‘Sharkey’s men had a stronghold there, under the supervision of Lotho Sackville-Baggins.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Some say one of the meanest ones has come back to claim what he feels is his by right.’

The evening shadows had grown longer and darker outside the Inn. The night was proving to be as warm as the day had been, still Pio shook herself slightly trying to throw off the chilled feeling that had crept on her. The small group of Hobbits was breaking up its meeting, the members hurrying home to their own snug dwellings. A few acknowledged her as they left, nodding their heads at her or tugging at their caps.

Once they had gone, she motioned for Gilly to follow her. ‘It’s too late for you to be seeing Amaranthas tonight. The old dear will have gone to bed by now. Stay the night here at the Inn. My guest, of course! Tomorrow I will introduce you to my friends and to Mithadan.’

[theWhiteLady]

WhiteLady's post

Rose Goodchild felt her face grow hot and angry at Tanta's accusation. It was a rather good thing that the words she wished to speak on Cami's behalf rose up and became choked in her throat, emerging only in an outraged garggle. When the young hobbit found her voice, Mayor Samwise had hastily stepped forward to steer the discussion back to the subject at hand. Emboldened by her inflamed temper which was evident in a faint flush that tinted her cheeks a rosy-red, Rose stood up to address the Townhall.

"It seems to me that these bandit men must either be very desperate or terribly wicked to go so far as to snatch our hobbit babes. Who knows what other things they might do to achieve their end? Though our Shirrifs do a fine job of keeping the peace between our own quiet fold in times of peace," and with this, Rose nodded towards the guard in the back; a frosty attempt at civility though she was, in her mind, remembering their unkind treatment of Mithadin. "We do not know the number or purpose of these men," she continued. "They may be few and disorganized, of course, but I do not think we should be caught unawares if the situation proves otherwise."

Rose faltered as she felt the eyes of the gathered families upon her and the flush along her cheeks spread to the tips of her ears and point of her nose. Before she could continue or make any further comment, however, Hob had jumped to his feet and Rose sank into her seat next to Cami who gave her an encouraging nod.

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


ArwenBaggins' post

Elanor sat at the end of the row her mother was sitting in, holding Goldi in her lap. She tried to keep up with the conversation, but the arguing became too frequent and annoying. She leaned over to Frodo-lad, who was sitting next to her. "I wish they would stop blaming people and start fixing the problem!" Frodo nodded in approval.

Sighing deeply, she set Goldi down and stood, trying to be seen. Clearing her throat, she yelled over the bickering crowd. "I want to help! I want to help you!" A stern look appeared on her face as the crowd quieted.

"Yes! My brothers and sisters can help! We can take around a flyer that my father or the sheriff can write, telling everyone when it will be their turn to patrol the roads at night! We will remind everyone to look around their farms and homes to find anything they can use as a weapon--shovels, spades, sturdy walking sticks, butcher knifes, -- just in case the bandits show up at their door!" She stood with her back straighter than usual, with a large grin.

Miz Rose looked over at her daughter. She was very proud to hear Elanor speak out at the meeting with some good practical ideas, but she was worried about the children running off on their own and getting into trouble. Miz Rose quickly added, "Elanor, you have to promise me that you and the other children would only do this in the day, and that you'll always go in pairs. If not, if you can't promise that, then it will be way too dangerous."

Elanor looked to Frodo-lad, to Rosie, and then to the others. "We promise. We will have older children go with the younger ones. We will never venture to far, just so we can get back before dark. Everyone in the Shire will be informed!" She grinned again, hearing everyone voice their approval of her idea.

[ April 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Carrûn]

Frodo-lad sat in silence next to his sister as the adults argued.

"I wish they would stop blaming people and start fixing the problem!"

He nodded in approval at Elanor's words; she could make things seem so simple at times. He was somewhat surprised when she offered to help, but readily agreed to go with her and the other children in groups to spread the warning.

He was a little excited.

[ April 02, 2003: Message edited by: Carrûn ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hob Greenhand scowled and stalked up to the front of the gathering standing right in front of Mayor Samwise and wagging a finger under his nose. "I'll speak plain to you. All these suggestions are well and good. But we still don't know who these bandits are, or even where they come from."

"In the past week, I've heard all kinds of funny stories flying about the Shire. Some say it's the Chief's men who've ridden back to taunt us. Others say Sharkey himself has risen once again."

Sam stared at Hob with a look of pure alarm. "Now don't be speading rumors like that. We all saw Sharkey blow away in a puff of wind. I don't expect to be seeing him again, at least not anytime soon."

Hob shook his head and grimaced, "Maybe so, but there's still doesn't change the truth. We don't know who these men are, or where they come from, or even what they want. How can we fight something when we don't even know what it is?"

The entire room suddenly became silent. What Hob was saying made a lot of sense.

Cami was the first to break the silence, "And just exactly how do you propose that we do this? Invite them into our burrows for tea? We have no idea where they've squirelled up."

"Maybe not an exact idea, no. But all this trouble started east of us. I expect that's where the problem lies. Perhaps, we can send scouts out, and have them take a look, and figure out where all this is coming from."

Maura stomped to his feet in frustration, "Hold on, Hob. I'm all for sending out scouting parties, if we have some realistic idea of where they should look. But we don't have any notion. My wife delights in telling me that the Shire covers over 20,000 square miles. Even if we confine ourselves to the portion that lies the furthest east, you're talking about a huge tract of land that lies two days away from here."

"Surely the hobbits in the Eastfarthing are trying to locate the bandits' headquarters so they can rescue the kidnapped children. If they can't find them, and they know that territory so well, I expect the bandits have chosen a very clever spot to hide."

"In any case, unless the scout was very clever, he'd probably end up dead. The minute the bandits see a hobbit face near their headquarters, they're going to strike out as hard and fast as they can."

"So you're saying that we should sit here and do nothing?"

"No, but I am saying to use common sense. Before you send a group out on some wild chase, first find out from the hobbits who live in the Eastfarthing exactly what they've learned about these men."

It was at this point that Prim stood up and cleared her throat, "Maura, that's exactly what I was thinking. There's a fellow staying at the Inn whom Mayor Sam or the Shirriff might want to speak with. He's a trader, a decent sort of hobbit, who hails out of Whitfurrows. He's apparently heard a thing or two about these bandits and knows exactly what the folk there have done to try and find the children."

Maura immediatey responded, "That's just the kind of information we need. Any chance this fellow would be willing to come and talk to us tonight?"

Prim shrugged her shoulders. "I couldn't say, but I know he's at the Inn, so I could easily slip out and ask him, and see if he'd agree to do that."

Mayor Sam nodded his head and even the Shirriff seemed interested to hear this news. So it was quickly agreed that Mistress Prim should return to the Inn, and try and locate the gentlehobbit in question, while the rest continued their discussion in the Town Hall.

[ April 03, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Cotman Bolger of Stock waited in his room until the gathering of Hobbits in the Common room had dispersed. He kept an eye out his window for their departure, as he sat in the overstuffed chair he had pulled up to it and smoked a pipe or two. At long last, he saw them dribbling out in twos and threes, some of them still talking heatedly to each other.

He had ventured down earlier, and hearing a little of their angry speeches, decided he did not want to participate. ‘No use making general accusations and getting yourself all worked up,’ he thought to himself. In his long career as a trader from Bree to Bywater he had met many of the Big Folk, and for the most part he found them no worse and no better than Hobbits. Both races had their good points and their bad. ‘And some of each, it’s sad to say are just plain rotten to the core.’

Mistress Piosenniel was kind enough to draw him a half pint and fetch him a bite to eat from the deserted kitchen. All of the staff having gone to the meeting called by the Mayor at the Town Hall. He had just settled in at a table by the small fire, with his sandwich and his ale, when Prim came rushing through the front door of the Inn. He was surprised when she approached him, asking him to come speak to those gathered at the Mayor’s meeting.

‘I can’t for the life of me think that I would have anything of any importance to say, Miz Prim. I only passed through Whitfurrows on my way here.’

Prim fixed him with a cold eye. ‘You must know something of what’s going on, Cotman. I know you told Cook enough to upset her. Just come and let them ask some questions and see what you can fill in for them. Cotman sighed, and took a last swig of ale, then pulling on his light jacket, he followed Prim out of the inn and toward the meeting.

It was the skilful questioning of Sam that finally brought the details to light. Cotman, at first, had been bombarded with questions, shouted out willy-nilly from the crowd, he was tongue tied and muddled, pulled here and there by the desperate eagerness of the group for information.

It was in Bree, Cotman said that he’d first heard rumours from his Hobbit customers about certain, unsavory Big Folk grumbling about the raw hand they’d been dealt since the King made his proclamation. Just grumblings though, and those had started, as far as he could recall around New Year’s time, just after the first of the winter brewings were done.

Several months later he recalled he was moving some stock of tea, salt, and sugar through Budge Ford, and on up to Scary and Brockenborings, and all along the way he heard stories Big Folks being seen, always, of course at a distance and at dusk or later, and always disappearing down some small ravine or dip in the land and disappearing. Not regular sightings, but just enough to keep the topic fresh in the conversations heard round the Inns in the area.

Some of the good folk in the lowland area of the East Farthing - Yale, as he remembered - got together with their neighbors in Whitfurrows and Budge Ford and hiked about looking for any real clues to these sightings. They had covered a large area over the span of several days and found nothing for their trouble. It was beginning to be thought that folk were conjuring up phantoms from the evening shadows.

Then the phantoms had turned real just a week or so ago. Two small children had been snatched. No notes were left asking for any sort of ransom, and not a clue could be found of where they had been taken, though a large party of searchers had once again combed the area. Hobbits in the East Farthing were frightened. Guards had been set up at Hay Gate to monitor all who crossed into the Shire proper from the East.

Someone stood up and asked about the two children who were taken. Did the kidnappers steal into a burrow late at night and take them from their beds?

‘Now that I do know a little more about,’ he said. ‘I know one of the families. The child had a habit of wandering off on his own and not paying attention to the wishes of his parents. He had sneaked out late at night, bent on some errand of his own and never returned. About nine or ten, I think he was. The other child was younger, and wandered away from the family at an evening picnic supper, following some whim of his own, or so I heard.’


Rumour and conjecture were growing. There were tales spreading that Big Folk had crossed the Brandywine south of Buckland and were planning an attack from the Overbourne Marshes. Or that enclaves of them were hiding in Woody End or north of Woodhall. Each of these reports had been checked out by the local deputy and a duly formed band of searchers, but nothing of any substance had been found.

‘It’s funny,’ he said, drawing his comments to an end. ‘The country side seems to just swallow them up, and we can’t find them no matter where we look . . .’

[ April 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cotman was about to slip out of the meeting when Maura pulled him aside and squeezed out a few last tidbits of information. He pressed the trader on how organized the search had been, and whether or not they'd used folk who had tracking skills.

Cotman shook his head. "That one's easy. There were plenty of complaints about how things were handled."

"At first, all the local hobbits turned out, including lots of folk who didn't know the first thing about scouting. They tramped all over the countryside and destroyed whatever clues existed. Not surprisingly, they came up with nothing."

"The Shirriff was under pressure, so he finally sent out his most experienced folk. These fellows knew what they were doing, but still came up with nothing."

On hearing this gloomy assessment, Maura thanked Cotman for his willingness to talk and bade him good evening. The latter hastily made a retreat back to the Inn, glad to be free of all the questioning and the feeling of frustration that hung over the room.

When Maura rejoined Cami, he pulled her outside for a moment, "This is going nowhere. We've come up with some good ideas about how to organize things here. But we still don't know who these bandits are, or where they're from, or what they want."

"Hob may be irritating, but he's right. Without knowing those answers, we can't really prepare or fight back. For all we know, these fellows may be skulking around in Hobbiton right now and overhearing everything we say!"

Cami made a face and sighed, "I hope it's not that bad. But what Cotman said gave me a sour feeling in the pit of my stomach. When I heard how those boys wandered off without the permission of their parents, all I could see in my own mind was a great big picture of Gamba and his brothers. Maura, you know how they are. I try my best, but it's not like Holly. I keep telling them to be careful and stick close to the Inn. Gamba kisses me on the head, tells me not to worry, and then proceeds to go off and do whatever he thinks best."

Maura nodded, "It doesn't make me comfortable either. I'll speak with Gamba again, and tell him what we've heard. I'm not so worried about the daytime. It's the hours after sunset when they need to stick close. I'll ask Lindo to keep a closer eye on things. That should help too."

"You know, Cami, there's one person who might be able to help us with all of this."

"I know, I know, don't say anything. I sat and thought about it all through the meeting. I haven't seen her in several days. Once or twice, I even looked up in the rafters and swore I say a black and white form hidden in the shadows. And another time, I heard a beak tap against the windowpane. But, when I turned to look, there was nothing.

Anyways, how many times can I ask my friends to go into danger to bail me out? Espcially when some of my own people are so suspicious. She looked imploringly into Maura's eyes, searching for an answer.

His words came back with no hesitation. But Cami, these are children, hobbit children, who have no defenses of their own.

"You're right, I know. Alright, let me start by talking to Pio and see if she thinks this is a reasonable idea. You go back into the meeting. I'll slip out and head for the Inn. We'll meet at the burrow later tonight."

"And, Maura," she added. "Would you make sure to track down Gamba and Lindo before you leave and talk to them?"

"Don't worry. I promise." With that, he turned and went inside just as Sam read off the list of hobbit who had volunteered to organize patrols to keep an eye on the roads after dark.

[ April 01, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Old Stoat found his postition was uncomfortable; peering through the little Town Hall window. It was also frustrating. He could see all sorts of goings-on that he did indeed find interesting, but could hear not a word of it. He had watched various agitated characters stomp about at the front of the room with much finger wagging and scarlet faces. Something had fair upset the little folk and Stoatie could not supress a smile of pride if, as he thought, it was his actions that had led them into this frenzy. That said, his continued presence was of little use. Ferny had sent him to spy and gather useful information; all this told him was something had upset the halflings. It could be the actions of the men, it could be any petty squabble the creatures seemed to delight in.

With surprising delicacy he removed himself from the woodshed roof and landed with nought but the softest of thuds upon the soft turf. He had seen Hobbits leave the building and head across the town. He knew the inn was in the rough direction of their to-ing and fro-ing. Perhaps a little trip over there would prove more profitable. He had heard the rumours that there was a most exceptional landlady at the pub. Stoatie decided to check up and see just how exceptional she was.

Darkness was finally beginning to envelop the town and he found it easy enough to dart from the shadow of one gateway to the wall of a vegetable patch. He hesitated momentariliy by an open window. A child's rhyme crossed his mind a moment at the sight of a pie, set to cool upon the sill. He grinned. The pie disappeared. Such an action was not reckless when one knows for sure that they will not be caught.

So it came that he was standing in the gloom outside the inn. He could already hear voices clearly drifting from an open window upon the night air. He had made the right choice leaving the Town Hall. Old Stoat was sure a little snooping here would be far more useful to Ferny and himself.

[Nurumaiel]

Angelica finished setting the table and lifted the lid to the pot, peering in. "Almost ready," she said with satisfaction. She could hear Fosco pounding on the kitchen door. She had been forced to close it and lock him out after he decided the potatoes were good for nothing but throwing at Madoc, who immediately threw one back. Well, it looked as though they could come back in now… soon. Dinner wouldn't be ready for another few minutes.

Angelica collapsed in a chair with a yawn. As the sun set slowly the sky began to dim and Hobbiton drew quiet as the Hobbits retreated into their beds after a good dinner. The Muddyfoots, however, had been late for everything that day. They woke up late, had breakfast late, and so on, and now they were having dinner while everyone else was falling peacefully asleep.

"Sleep," Angelica whispered, leaning back. Her eyes began to close, and then sleep took her.

She was awoken an hour later by a loud pounding at the kitchen door. Opening her eyes, she found that the room was just beginning to fill with smoke. "Fire?" It was more of a question than a scream. Angelica stumbled to the door and unlocked it. Merimac burst in and, after being assured that his wife was all right, went to where the smoke was coming from.

A groan escaped from Angelica and she sat down, trying to fight back the tears that threatened her. Dinner had burned. Why had everything been going so horribly wrong lately? She looked guiltily at the children, and Madoc looked back at her with eyes trying to disguise the hunger. He knew what had happened. Prisca toddled forward and stared up at her mother. "Mummy, where's the food? What's this black stuff?"

"It's grey," Fosco said, glaring at his twin sister. "It's smoke, and that means there's a fire." His eyes narrowed even more. "And do you know what that means? It means someone burned up and died!"

A little cry was Prisca's answer as she stared in wide-eyed fear at her brother. Angelica picked up the girl. "Hush, Fosco," she said. "Nobody's burned and died. Don't scare your sister like that. There isn't a fire, either. It's just that our… food… burned!" The last word came out in a despairing wail.

"Well, good," said Fosco smugly. "I didn't want those old potatoes and stuff anyway. I saw Mummy make bread today and she said I couldn't have it. Maybe now you're sorry."

"Bread and butter for dinner…" Merimac, having finished dealing with the burned dinner, stepped forward eagerly and put an arm around his wife. "That sounds wonderful, Angelica. Do you think we could?"

Angelica looked for a moment surprised, then her face brightened. "Why, yes!… I mean I suppose so… I mean perhaps… I mean… of course."

"Wonderful," said Merimac.

Half an hour later, the two were cleaning up the kitchen together. Angelica had her eyes on her husband the whole time. She had to admit she was very puzzled. Usually after dinner he'd go rest for a little while after the long day. And he knew she was quite capable of cleaning the kitchen herself. "Merimac," she said, deciding not to ask him about it directly, "how was your work today? Did anything happen in the fields?"

"Yes, a lot happened," said Merimac. "We worked hard, and I'm exhausted."

"Then you should rest."

"You're wondering why I'm still in here, aren't you?" Merimac asked. He smiled. "I see I haven't gone unnoticed, if you know my usual habits."

Angelica smiled.

"Well, Angelica, I wanted to talk to you… it's not really important, but I just want to get it off my mind. I just wanted to talk about those kidnappings for just a little while, so I wouldn't be so bothered - "

"Kidnappings?" Angelica cried, then lowered her voice as Merimac gestured with his eyes that the children were in the room across. "What kidnappings?"

"You mean you haven't heard?"

Angelica shook her head, so Merimac told her all he knew about the kidnappings, and she listened, wide-eyed, her heart beating a little faster. Her eyes kept turning towards the door of the room across the hall to make sure the three children were still there.

When Merimac finished, Angelica spoke firmly. "As long as they've caught him it's all right," she said with a little smile. "Otherwise I'd be fearing for my children's safety."

"But they haven't caught him yet," said Merimac softly.

Angelica gave him one long, hard, searching stare, then turned abruptly and crossed the hall. "Children," Merimac heard her say, "do not leave the house without first getting permission from myself or- " She paused a moment and looked back at the kitchen, and seeing the look in Merimac's eyes, scowled and repeated, "Without getting permission from myself."

When she returned Merimac said gently, "Angelica, don't you think you're worrying a little overmuch?"

"No," she said coldly, going to the table and picking up the empty dishes.

"The kidnappings took place far from here."

"There is no guarantee the kidnapper will stay there," she said, stopping and turning around, "and I for one, Merimac Muddyfoot, will be taking no risks with my children!" She began to breathe hard, her eyes wide.

Merimac looked straight into her eyes. "Maybe it would be better for you to say it," he said, not even trying to conceal the gentle pity in his voice. "Maybe it would make you feel better."

Angelica stepped forward into his arms. "All right," she said hoarsely. "Merimac, I'm afraid."

[ April 02, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Orual]

Sam surveyed the group as he read the list of names before him. He saw an uneasy bunch of people, many clutching their young children close to them. Sam shook his head just a little. The meeting hadn't gone quite as well as he had hoped, with people throwing accusations and wild speculation around, but at least they had gotten something done. He had learned something from Cotman Bolger, at least, if he could only do something about it. The patrols and flyers were well and good, but (though he hated to admit it), Hob had a point. They didn't know who these fellows were, what they were doing in the Shire, or even if the still were in the Shire. Sam sighed deeply when he finished reading the names, and received puzzled looks. He smiled apologetically.

"Thank you for coming, and for your ideas. Stay safe, keep an eye on your children, and children, keep an eye out for strangers. We will do all we can to get rid of this threat, and we all appreciate your help. Thank you. Good night."

Sam stepped down from the podium and went straight to his family. He and Rose spoke for a moment, evaluating the meeting, and then he turned to Elanor. He fairly beamed, and took his daughter by the shoulders. "Ellie, I'm very proud of you," he said. "While all the adults were squabbling and fighting among themselves, you spoke sense. Those flyers were a fine idea, Ellie, a great idea. Not many fathers have this much reason to be proud of their girls." He gave her a hug, then stood up. It was time to go home.

[ April 04, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]

[piosenniel]

Gilly wandered into the kitchen to find something to eat. She loaded up a plate with bread and jam, cookies plundered from the stock in the pantry, and a crisp Shire apple. Fixing herself a large mug of tea sweetened with fireweed honey she took the servants’ staircase up to the second level and went to her corner room.

The full moon was up and shone brightly through her open window. Wishing to sit in peace, watching the stars and the listening to the quiet chirrup of the crickets in the eaves, she left the room in darkness, and sat at the table by the window. From below she could hear the sound of voices floating up from the open window in the Common Room. Piosenniel was talking in a serious tone to someone, another woman. Their voices were low, the words indistinct.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Cami had come into Inn fast on the heels of Cotman. Pio, sitting at the small table that she and Gilly had previously shared, was looking over a list of the Green Dragon’s accounts. She glanced up as the door thudded shut and smiled, motioning Cami over to sit with her.

‘Is the meeting over already?’ Pio put down her pen and piled the papers to the side.

Cami shook her head ‘no’, and sat down quickly, asking Pio if she’d seen Bird lately. ‘Not seen her exactly, but I have heard her about.’ She smiled recalling the flutter of wings heard often in the tree outside her front room window, the occasional contented neek-breek when a small saucer of ale was left on the window’s sill. And late at night when all were sleeping, except the twins, the soft pad of barefeet seeking food in the kitchen. Or heading down the lane toward the woods that edged the Pool, the moon’s half-light glinting in her silvered hair.

‘Can you contact her? I need to speak with her.’ Cami went on to explain what had gone on at the meeting, and what Maura wanted Bird to attempt. Pio described the flavor of the smaller meeting that had just broken up that the Inn. She confided to her friend that she had the urge to pack up and take herself and Mithadan, Bird, and the babies as far as possible from the Shire. ‘They hate us here, Cami. It matters not that we have done nothing to them. We are Big Folk, and they want us gone.’ She leaned her chin on her palm, and looked out the window. ‘I am uneasy here. And were you not here, I would go quickly.’

She turned her head back to look at her friend. ‘Bird, yes, I will try to find her for you. Shall I send her to your burrow by the pool?’ Her hand went across the table, seeking Cami’s. ‘There is something I meant to speak about to you earlier . . .’ Cami leaned in closer, wondering what her friend might say.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Gilly sat back in her chair. She was here by herself she could afford to flout convention. She eased her feet up to the table top, ankles crossed, and perched her tea mug on the sill. She was just reaching across to get the last of the cookies, when her elbow brushed the mug and it fell crashing to the wooden walkway below. The front legs of her chair came crashing down on the floor and she leaned out the window to see where it had fallen.

A furtive movement caught her eye, running round the corner of the inn. Someone crouched over, fleeing from shadow to shadow. She gasped, as she stood, her hands grasping the sill hard. It was a Man . . .

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Pio and Cami jumped as the mug crashed and splintered on the wooden walk outside their window. Gilly came rushing down the stairs, eyes wide, shouting.

‘A Man! A Man, Mistress Piosenniel! Running from the window and across the back yard of the Inn . . .’

[Birdland]

Everything was going very, very wrong. It seemed that the Shire tossed in its sleep like a child beset by nightmares. What had started as minor glaces and raised eyebrows had grown into dark glares and angry mutterings across kitchen gates. The joining of Maura and Cami had been a welcome distraction, but the good fellowship that had sprung naturally from the joining of the two halflings was wearing thin.

Bird had wanted to leave as soon as the ceremony was done, but she would not leave without Pio and Mith, and Elf or no, her friend was in no condition to travel.

So the little skinchanger had reverted to jackdaw form, and had taken to the air, flying over the four farthings and beyond, clear to Lake Evendim and the lonely ruins of Annúminas.

There she had camped for a few days, brooding on the glory and folly of Men. While there she had watched as a company of Dunedain had visited the lost ruins themselves, dwelling over old maps and recording measurements and conditions of old palaces and towers.

Bird knew that the King intended to expand his realm again into Arnor that was, and supposed that this was the advance guard of builders, craftsmen and soldiers who would come to reclaim Annúminas for Elessar. She wondered darkly how they would respond to news that Mithadan, as well as other lesser men, were in the Shire, making the little country hum like a disturbed hive of angry bees.

From there she had flown south, over the Dim Hills and the Western Moors to Undertowers, where she had spent a few days with her old friend Holly. There she had told Holly and Olo all about the doings on the shores of Lake Evendim, and unburdened her heart concerning the troubles in the Shire and her own part in it.

But it seemed that the denizens of Undertowers were absorbing their own "Elvish airs" from their closer proximity to the Havens. The outlyers of the far West Farthing seemed more and more to disconnect themselves from their more settled, stodgy cousins in the Shire, and looked to the West more often than the East. Bird would not be surprised to find that eventually they would found their own separate country in time.

But despite these wanderings, Birdie would return again and again to Bywater and Hobbiton, checking in with Pio, Cami, and Mith, but refusing to change into human form at all anywhere within the borders of the Shire.

She blamed plain Elven and Mannish stubborness for her friends continuing presence in the land of Suza. Cami's appearance she regarded as bittersweet. At least she could claim this as her original home, but Bird felt that her coming back, even if it meant a long-desired reunion with Maura, was keeping her from her duties in the First Age. This whole, long, outlandish episode made the skinchanger nervous and fretful. She held her tongue, but continued to watch, and worry. But all the same, she continued to stay.

She had watched the meeting, a small black shadow hidden high in the rafters, and was flitting through the darkness to return to the opened window of the inn, when she heard the crash of the mug and the shouts of alarm from the halfling maid. a shadowy form, dark as her own, but definitely man sized, could be seen running for the shelter of a hedgerow and a small wood beyond. Bird cursed under her breath and shook her feathers in agitation. Then she took off after the figure, scanning the skies fearfully for predators.

"I suppose I'd best follow this brigand and see what mischief he's up to. But if I wind up as an owl's dinner from flying after dark, it will be all Pio's fault!"

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami looked up, startled to see Gilly come racing into the room with this disturbing piece of news. Before she could even move from her chair, Piosenniel had already sprinted over to the door and darted out into the courtyard, vainly trying to get a closer look at the miscreant before he disappeared under the inky cover of night

Pio caught the slightest glimpse of a shadowy-cloaked form fading into the bushes. The prowler was already a good ways off, clearly heading northward. But the foliage obstructed her sight, and the Elf could not see whether his path lay straight ahead, perhaps across the river, or veered off in one direction or the other.

Pio cursed her lumbering form which prevented her from giving swift and immediate chase on foot and successfuly bringing the Man to bay. In one final gesture of futility, she raced to the stables and threw herself across Falmar's back, and clattered out of the courtyard, attempting to give pursuit. About an hour later, she reappeared with a grim look upon her face. Her expression clearly showed that, like the others who'd pursued the Men, she'd met with little success.

The Elf glanced briefly in Cami's direction and muttered under her breath, "The countryside swallowed him up. I couldn't find him anywhere." Then Pio quickly retired to her room. Whatever she'd meant to tell Cami earlier was now left unsaid.

In complete frustration, Cami sat down at the table and brought her clasped hands up to cover her eyes, wanting to shut out all the events of the past day. For one moment, her thoughts turned bitter as she assessed her own situation and that of her friends. Anger swelled up. Anger directed against herself as well as a desire to strike out at whoever was behind these nefarious doings. She had so little time with Maura, so few minutes to be together, yet it was all to be tainted by this travesty.

At the same time, another voice inside her mind guiltily suggested that she herself was to blame for these problems, or at least for the fact that her dear friends were here. If she had never come, her friend Piosenniel would have left many months ago, returning to Gondor and avoiding all this unpleasantness. Mithdan and Bird would never even have come.

But they were here. And, as much as Cami cared for Bird and Pio and Mith, she could not turn a blind eye on the needs of her own people, especially the children who'd done nothing to deserve such a fate. She walked slowly over to the kitchen and secured a small saucer filled with ale to set out on the ledge, hoping to attract the wayward Bird.

She wasn't sure how long she'd sat there waiting, slowly nodding off. It wasn't until a hour or so later that she awoke. There was no Bird, and the saucer sat untouched. She quietly rose to her feet, and left the Inn, going back down to the burrow to await Maura's return from the meeting.

[ April 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Before the crockery had even hit the ground Stoat had seen it falling. He had only heard half the conversation between the two women and although he had gleaned a little of use he could not stay to listen to any more. The mug shattered upon the verandah and he was off. He was confident of his route and turned not back. Leaping the bracken and dodging behind the Silver Birch that almost glowed in the light of the newly risen moon he did his best to vanish. He could not guarentee he had not been spotted in some way but the speed of his movements ensured they would not know him if ever their paths crossed again.

Eventually well into the wood that curved close to Hobbiton he collapsed between the sturdy roots of an ancient Elm. He was drenched in sweat and breathed loud and heavy. He reined in his breathing steadily while listening for any sould of persuit. Several minutes past. Several more. After a long while he thought he heard the chink of iron on stone as a horse proceeded along the lane nearby. The horse or perhaps another returned toward the town. No further sound but nature disturbed him.

Old Stoat rose and without even bothering to dust himself down began his weary way back to Ferny. He had precious little information it was true but he hoped what little there was would prove to be precious indeed.

[piosenniel]

Gilly grabbed one of the lit lanterns from the shelf behind the bar, along with the stout club she saw leaning against the wall and ran out after Pio. She threw the shade of the lantern open wide and shone it about the darkened yard, walking boldly about the perimeter of the Inn, making loud noises. If there were anymore ruffians about, she meant to flush them out and raise the alarm. She had a strong right arm on her from work on her family’s little holding, and there was many a marauding fox and weasel that limped along on three legs after an encounter with her in the chicken coop.

Her heart was pumping wildly as she walked on patrol, though her thoughts were steady, and her senses alert. Once round the Inn and all was quiet. A small crate at the corner of the veranda afforded her a place to sit and watch the entrance to the Inn, the two main windows, and the road leading up to the Inn’s entry path. The light from the window nearest her, did not reach to this corner, and she hooded the lantern, throwing her vantage point into complete darkness.

She saw Mistress Piosenniel come riding back to the Inn, and clamber off her horse, turning the beast loose to find her way back to her stall. From the sag of her shoulders, she could tell that the chase had not been a successful one. Her estimation of her new employer went up several notches seeing her not hesitate to rise to the threat. Miz Amaranthas had been right when she wrote Gilly that Miz Pio would prove an interesting person to work with. This should turn out to be just the sort of challenge Gilly craved. Something out of the ordinary.

All was quiet. She slipped out her carving knife from the small sheath on the belt at her waist, and picked up a piece of kindling from the pile at the side of the building. It was too dark to whittle a figure, but she kept her hands busy shaving curls of wood from the stick. Halfway through a third piece, she heard the crunch of footsteps on the graveled road, nearing the turn in to the Green Dragon's pathway. Resheathing her knife, she picked up the club and watched the figure approach.

Someone in a long cloak, hood up. Too short to be a Man, she thought. Gilly waited until the figure drew near, then stepped out into the light, the club held securely in her hand. A girl, it was – her age, she thought. Gilly opened the hood of the lantern to better see the girl's face.

‘And who are you, Miss?’ asked Gilly, politely enough. ‘And what is your business at the Inn tonight?’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami looked up as she heard the latch turn and saw the door swing slowly inward. Maura padded noiselessly inside, and crouched down on the floor near the hearth, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

"I thought you might be sleeping." He glanced over towards his wife.

Cami sighed, "I couldn't. I just couldn't. The meeting. It's ended?"

Maura nodded yes, then stared at the soft glowing embers and shook his head.

"So bad?" Cami approached him and set her hand on his shoulder, leaing over to place a soft kiss on top of his silver curls.

"It was alright. There were no more squabbles. And we did accomplish some things. The children promised to pass out flyers, and other hobbits agreed to patrol the roads. Rose and I are to offer simple lessons for those who own a bow or dagger."

"But you're still upset?" Cami prodded.

"A little. Even now, we know nothing about who these people are, or what they want. And I don't like to see big and little folk quarrel like this. In Beleriand, for countless years, my family and others stood side-by-side with the Edain. My grandfather fought and died in defense of the secret hideout in Ladros. I find it hard to sit and listen to hobbits who voice such terrible suspicions of Men, painting them all with the same black brush."

He hesitated and then continued. "You know Cami, I have a feeling. This time, we may find ourselves fighting shoulder to shoulder."

Cami nodded. She was quite prepared to do that. Then she curled up near her husband and told him how Gilly had glimpsed an intruder, and how Bird had disappeared before she could even speak with her. Maura took Cami's hand in his own, reassuring his wife that he had spoken to Gamba, and that the lad had promised to be careful, at least as careful as boys can be.

"Where's Holly?" he queried.

"She's asleep." Cami pointed to a small bundle in the back room, carefully tucked inside a heap of blankets.

Then Maura stretched out on the pallet and silently drew her to his side. They came together in joy and sweetness, knowing their time was too precious to waste, even with the heartache of the evening. For a moment, the worries of the day were pushed back, and they knew only that they were fiercely happy to have this little space in one another's arms. They fell asleep soon afterward, and slept peacefully until early morning when the sound of songbirds awakened them.

[ April 04, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bilbo awoke with a start and padded over to the window to gaze outside. He had deliberately avoided the meeting and gone to bed before Frodo had come back. From the look of the stars he could now glimpse in the heavens, he judged it to be shortly after midnight.

Frodo had evidently not returned to his bed, since it looked the same as when Ruby had come that morning to turn down the sheets and tidy up the room. A quick glance down the hall confirmed that his nephew was nowhere to be seen. Bilbo threw a jacket over his shoulders, pulled on a pair of breeches, and went downstairs. There was no sign of Frodo in the common room or kitchen. Pushing open the back door, he continued his search into the courtyard.

There, he finally spotted his nephew. Frodo was quietly sitting on the ground under a large tree, with his head tossed back and his eyes sweeping across the skies. He was alone, with an intent look on his face.

"Frodo, are you alright?" Bilbo queried as he hurried over to his nephew.

For a long time, neither hobbit spoke. Then Frodo broke the silence with an observation. "You know, wherever they are, those kidnapped children can look out and see these stars. That is, if the bandits let them look outside...."

Frodo sighed, shook his head, and stared back at his uncle. "Bilbo, what am I going to do? I have a feeling something is going to happen, and I'll have to make a choice. Maura Took got an extra sword from Hob. He gave it to me for when I go out on patrol to guard the roads. I didn't have the heart to tell him no, but I can scarcely bear to have the thing in my hand."

Bilbo's eyes looked down to where Frodo had let the sword slip loose from his fingers. It lay there beside him in the grass.

"You know, I even thought about walking away. But I can't walk away from children. Not after the time I spent with Sam and his family. How would I feel if the bandits took one of them?"

"You will use it then?" Bilbo's voice was gentle and compassionate.

Frodo shook his head, "You know how I hate fighting after what happened at ...." He let his words go unfinished. "But I can't sit still while a child is kidnapped or murdered. I hope it won't come to that. But, if it does, yes, I'll fight."

He looked up one last time at Bilbo, "You still feel it's time to go, don't you?"

Bilbo smiled gently and nodded, "I'm sure of it. Being here and seeing all this has made me certain. I'm ready to move on, Frodo."

"But no one knows what's out there." Frodo objected softly. "I wouldn't feel so badly if I knew you'd be alright."

"Well, lad, this is one open road where I'll never know what lies at the other end until I actually set my foot on it. I've come all these years trusting that things would work out. Old habits die hard. I'll keep trusting and going forward. And if there's any feeling or knowing beyond, I'll miss you and wait for you."

"You're ready, too, Frodo. You're ready to go forward on your own. You've always needed someone to give you a nudge out the door. Once Gandalf did that. Now, it looks as if it's my turn."

He softly embraced the lad and the two went back upstairs and settled in for the night.

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


As the morning sun peered over the horizon, Bilbo quietly slipped out of bed. All his life, he'd given generously to those around him, although he often took pains to hide that fact. The time for generous gifts had passed, but he still could not shake loose his long accustomed habit of trying to set things right.

With a quick glance at his nephew who still lay asleep, Bilbo left the Inn, walking purposefully towards the pond. Back in Tol Eressea, he did not generally rise this early, preferring to stay up later at night and enjoy the multitude of sparkling stars. Since his return to the Shire, however, he seemed to need less sleep, so that it mattered little what hour he awoke or chose to go to bed.

Just the day before, he and Cami had been talking. Both agreed they had seen too little of each other, and should try to make up for that in the short time they both had left. Maura suggested Bilbo visit them at the burrow so they could eat breakfast together, not just today but any morning when he had a yen to come.

Cami set out a fine spread of hot tea and berries, thick slices of ham, a small crock of hard-boiled eggs, and newly baked bread, with pots of honey and jam alongside.

"You seem to have settled in nicely," Bilbo approvingly noted.

"Indeed, we have," Cami glanced quickly over to the far side of the pond where the toddler and Maura were playing. Maura was giving Holly a ride in the rope swing, pushing her animatedly back and forth while she giggled and urged him to go even faster.

"Your boys, Cami, how are they faring?"

"That's never easy, as I'm sure you've guessed. They still sleep on their own in the stables. But Maura has somehow convinced Gamba to drop by most evenings for supper so I can give the little ones a cuddle and a bedtime story. Rose pops in and out whenever she pleases and helps me with bits of work. But then, she's always stuck close, and I'm grateful for that. Now, if we could just get rid of those prowlers."

Cami's voice trailed off. Then, she stopped for a moment and sighed. "You know, Bilbo. Even with the bandits, it seems easier somehow. With Maura here, I mean. Things don't seem quite so overwhelming as they did before. I'm a better mother. I have more patience. I only wish it could stay like this."

Bilbo eyes widened. He was about to raise a question, when Maura came over and sat down with them. Bilbo couldn't help but notice how the couple's fingers intertwined beneath the table, and how they sat so comfortably close to one another, clearly happy just to be together.

After finishing breakfast and catching up on local doings, Cami hugged Bilbo and said goodbye, after he'd readily agreed to return for breakfast in a day or two and perhaps bring Frodo with him. Heading back towards the Inn, Bilbo reflected on Cami's wistful words and wondered whether any effort to make one last plea on their behalf could possibly make a difference.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Pio's post

It wasn’t songbirds that awakened Pio. That early hour before sunrise had barely crested the edge of the mountains far to the east when she was already up and dressed, sitting at the window of the front room, in her overstuffed chair. Mug of tea in hand, she shifted uncomfortably, one way and then the other, trying to find enough room in her frame for her to sit comfortably and the twins to play. At least that is how she termed their kicks, pokes, and trammeling at this hour of the day. She was beginning to bless the foresight of Amaranthas and Angelica in suggesting she should have a nursemaid once they were born. Perhaps then she could get some rest.

Her daughter stretched out her arms and legs, pushing hard against Pio’s ribs and chest. Her brother protested and pushed outward to find his own share of the little room left to him. Pio gasped, taking what shallow breath she could and stood up clumsily.

‘Alright, I surrender!’ she laughed, pushing back gently with her own hands. ‘We will all go for a walk, and you two can jump about to your hearts’ content.’

Mithadan was still sleeping, turned on his side, head lying on the crook of one arm, the other arm tucked securely round her pillow that he had drawn near him. She leaned over him, kissing him at the corner of his eye and cheek. We are going out for a walk. To Cami’s I think. I shall be back in time to second breakfast with you.

Her cloak rustled softly as she drew it from the end of the bed and settled it round her shoulders. Through the kitchen, with a nod and smile to Cook, then out the door and down the path to the Road.

She walked along slowly, gathering her thoughts. Cami was an early riser, but not this early. It would not do to intrude upon the newlyweds’ time together. Pio smiled to herself. ‘This time I must make sure I tell her.’

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

A long walk from the Pool, following the Water eastward, ate up the time, and it was long after breakfast at the burrow by the Pool when she returned. From a distance she saw Bilbo take leave of both Cami and Maura and head in the direction of the Inn. Standing in shadow, she watched him walk down the path leading round the western end of the Pool.

She stepped forward, then stopped, seeing Maura as he stepped out the door, bound on some errand. He paused just at the end of the small dirt path of the doorway and turned, grinning like some great fool back at Cami with the little one in her arms, as they stood waving to him. Pio tucked that image away in her memory, to recall later when Cami was no longer here, and she wished to remember her in happy times.

Cami and the little one had gone back inside by the time she reached the burrow. She rapped gently at the door, and seconds later it was flung open by Cami, laughing and saying, ‘Was it another good-by kiss you needed, Maura!’ Her cheeks turned pink when she saw that it was Pio, and she stammered as she invited her in.

‘I think you should save the kisses for your husband, but I will take a hug and a mug of tea.’ Pio looked hopefully round the little kitchen area. ‘And food! I am famished.’

A thorough hug and the admonishment to sit down and be comfortable followed the awkward scene at the door. Cami reintroduced Holly to Pio, the Elf grinning as she learned the little one’s name. ‘A lovely name for a lovely little girl,’ she said, reaching out her hand to tuck a stray curl behind Holly’s ear. ‘And how is that ear now? Better?’

As Cami bustled about fixing her visitor tea and a plate of toast spread thick with apple butter, Holly leaned on Pio’s legs, soft blanket in hand, her thumb popped into her mouth. They spoke softly together for a few moments, the little one indicating she wished to sit on the Elf’s lap. Pio pulled one of the chairs near hers and scooted the little girl onto it, tucking her up against her side, her arm wrapped around her. ‘I would put you on my lap, Holly, but I have no lap left for you.’

She placed the little girl’s free hand on her belly, just where her daughter was tapping with her foot. ‘That is my little baby girl. And just here is her brother.’ Holly’s eyes grew wide as a solid thump smacked against her palm. Holly giggled and tapped back gently to each one, screeching with further delight as her tapping met with tapping in kind.

Cami, grinning at hearing her daughter’s delighted giggles, had just piled the toast on a plate, alongside some sweet apple wedges, when she caught the conclusion of Holly’s and Pio’s conversation. Her faced turned white and she staggered for a moment as she sat the plate on the table near Pio.

‘What . . . what did you just say to her?’

Holly reached out her hand to her mother’s belly and patted it softly. ‘Lolly’s baby!’

‘Your son, Cami. Holly’s brother. I was just telling her about him . . .’

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

Child's post

"Excuse me, Pio," Cami stammered. "What did you say?" She had actually heard the words, but was finding them hard to comprehend. For the past few months, Cami had paraded a whole string of possible complications through her head, trying to predict her reactions. Yet, strangely enough, the possibility she might bear a child had never crossed her mind.

"You can't mean it. How do you know? Are you certain?" Frantic words tumbled out in rapid succession. Then Cami stopped and thought for a moment, shaking her head and sighing, "But, of course, you know. You can sense these things better than I."

For a moment, a ghost of a smile played on Cami's face as she thought about bearing and rearing a child who would not only be her son, but also part of Maura. The last thought struck her with terrible force. Her smile quickly faded, as she turned to face Pio with urgency in her voice.

"Please, Pio, please. Don't say anything to Maura."

Pio looked at Cami with genuine concern. "Why do you say that? From everything I've seen, I can't believe he wouldn't welcome this child into the world."

"That's not it." Cami rummaged through her mind, searching for the right words. "Pio, I don't know how to put this. When I was alone in Greenwood, I used to dream of Maura, and I always thought of us as a couple, just two people together. But after coming here, we both realized there's more to it than that. We're a family, even if we're physically separated--Gamba and the boys, and Rose, and Holly. Maura doesn't talk about it, but he's spent as much time with them as he has with me."

"When we gave our word to Gandalf, we did that as a couple. We knew there would be sadness, but we thought it would only affect the two of us. We never thought there would be children."

"I've seen Maura sitting by the fire, just staring at it. I don't need osanwe to read his mind. I already know what's there.
He feels he is failing my children, our children. They've become victims of a bargain they never even agreed to. Pio, I wouldn't give up my childrn for all the treasures in Arda, but it's not easy being on my own. Think how Mithadan would feel if something were to happen that prevented him from fulfilling his responsibilities as a father."

"That feeling is only going to get worse if Maura learns he's responsible for bringing a child into the world, a child he will never see or hold or help raise and support. And he'd constantly think of me in Greenwood, alone and struggling to do my best. I don't know if he could accept that."

"Maybe you need to talk. Maybe Maura is right. The old bargain you made did not cover any of this."

"Talk? No. This must stay locked inside. We gave our pledge, our solemn promise. That doesn't change with the winds of convenience."

"I will cover the babe's mind with my own so Maura will never suspect anything. And if Holly blurts out something, I'll explain how she felt Pio's twins with her hand and wanted a little brother so badly that she invented one in her head."

Before Piosenniel could respond, there was a sudden flurry of wings just outside the door.

[ April 09, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Bird's post

Through the open door of the small burrow a small black and white form darted, fluttering around the low room as if seeking a perch, and finally settling on the floor. Holly's eyes widened at the little bird on the floor, and she instinctively reached out to grab and cuddle.

But a pair of rough brown hands reached out gently to stop her, and the little halfing gasped as a small woman sat where a fluffy bird had been a moment before. Holly retreated to Cami, burying her head in her skirts, suddenly shy.

Birdie looked up to Pio and Cami from the floor, appearing to be quite haggard from lack of sleep. "I'm sorry. I tried to follow that man outside the inn, but I lost him in the forest. I have no idea where he went."

[ April 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

‘That was crafty of her to put us together – don’t you think?’ Gilly flicked the reins on Nettle’s flanks, urging the pony west down the road. She and Rose were on their way to visit the last of the burrows and holdings in the outlying areas near Hobbiton and Bywater.

They were delivering flyers that Maura and Sam and some of the other organizers at the meeting had penned, concerning the happenings of late in the Shire. Rose was also inviting interested Hobbits to come to the yard at the Inn over the next few weeks, where she and Maura would teach some simple techniques for use of weapons in fighting. Though all concerned hoped it would not come to that, they thought it best to be prepared.

‘Crafty – now that is a good word to use for her,' replied Rose, thoughtfully. 'She’s a good judge of people. Probably thought we would make a good team. She can’t be out here herself organizing things and teaching weapons’ skill, so she’s sent us. You should have seen her on board the Star. She had her hand in everything!’

The two young women chatted on amiably as the cart turned north, up a narrow dirt path. The incident of the Inn Yard, when Gilly had challenged Rose’s presence at the door to the Inn had long been put behind them.

Piosenniel, it seems, had put them both together in one room and after a few ruffled feathers, they had laughed at the situation and become good friends. Gilly was awed by the considerable wealth of experience a young woman her own age had under her belt already. She dreamed often of being just like her, and able to share with others tales of her own adventures.

Another endless source of interest to Gilly was Piosenniel. Rose provided a quite detailed and candid appraisal of the Elf and her doings, at least since she’d known her. Gilly’s feet itched to walk the deck of the Lonely Star. Rose smiled when she heard her friend say this, wondering what shade of green her face would turn when the Sea turned rough.

‘Oh, look,’ said Rose, pointing to the thin column of smoke coming from a burrow’s chimney in the distance. ‘There’s Gammer Eglantine’s burrow. We should go up and talk to her. I know she has lots of grandchildren that visit her, and she lives all alone.’ Nettle plodded slowly toward the path to the burrow. His speed unaffected by the gentle flick of reins, he paid even less attention to the coaxings of his two passengers.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

‘I didn’t know he could move this fast!’ Gilly had taken the reins on their return trip, and Nettle, his mind fixed on the bag of sweet oats and two carrots which awaited him, trotted eastward toward the Inn’s stable as fast as his short little legs could carry him.

In no time, they were back at the Inn, and had handed the relieved pony over to Hob.

‘Let’s go find something to eat,’ suggested Rose, linking her arm in Gilly’s as they headed toward the kitchen door. ‘Then I’ll give you a quick lesson in using one of those long knives Pio lent you.’

‘I’ll give it a try, but I still think I’m best with my walking stick,’ returned Gilly.

Rose dropped her arm from Gilly’s and gave her an impish grin, as she sprinted for the door. ‘Last one in makes the snack and does up the dishes!’

‘Then that’ll be you!’ cried Gilly, speeding off behind her.

[ April 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

26 Nárië – just before dawn

Rose smoothed the coverlet over her bed, and turned with an amused look on her face as the usual early morning thunk occurred. Gilly had left her last night’s cup of tea, now long gone cold, at the side of her bed, and once again she had tripped over it.

‘I’m sorry!’ The words flew out of Gilly’s mouth without thinking. How many times had she said that in the month she had known Rose. And how many times had Rose laughed, telling her not to worry, that a messy room was really of no importance to her. Still, Gilly noted the clothes neatly folded and stacked on the chest at the foot of her new friend’s bed.

She sighed and cast a critical eye at her side of the room. Her cape thrown over the hastily made bed. Piles of hurriedly cast off clothes where she had dropped them, casting little smudgy shadows in the soft lamplight. Mistress Piosenniel had given her a small, leather bound journal to keep for random thoughts and drawings, and it lay open beside her pillow. Gilly sighed again. Even the neat, clean, blank page that lay propped against the tousled pillow accused her with its well-ordered emptiness.

‘Hurry,’ urged Rose, pulling the door to their room open. ‘We promised Cook we would gather eggs for this morning’s breakfast.’

They slipped down the stairs quietly, small candle lanterns in hand, and went quickly through the kitchen, picking up the egg baskets on their way out the door. It was still dark as they crossed the yard to the hencoop, their quiet voices breaking the silence of the last edge of darkness. A few stars still twinkled overhead, and not even the birds had peaked from under wing.

Gilly slipped her hand beneath a briefly protesting hen. Cradling two warm eggs from the nest, she left one for the mama hen to nurture. Ten more hens, and she was done, finishing only a little before Rose.

‘It’s so peaceful, this time between night and day, isn’t it Rose?’ she said, hooking her arm in her friend’s as they hurried back to the waiting Cook. Rose nodded her head in agreement as they stepped through the kitchen’s door and gave their baskets to the expectant hands of Cook’s yawning helper.

Gilly, a cup of tea in her hand, sidled up to Cook who stood counting out the eggs for a morning scramble. ‘Let me take Mistress Piosenniel and her Mister their breakfast when it’s ready, will you?’

Cook smiled indulgently at the eager lass. According to Miz Pio the twins would be here on Mid-year’s Day, just five days from today. The poor mama had no room left for eating. The babies crowded her mightily as their time drew near.

‘Yes, Gilly, you can fix up a tray for them when they wake. Maybe he can get a few bites down her.’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Maura pulled the door open and walked slowly over towards the hearth, throwing his body haphazardly into a chair and stretching out his legs. Cami went behind him and leaned over, gently massaging the muscles in his neck."

"Tired?"

He nodded slowly. "I spent half the night patrolling the roads with Frodo and Hob, and then all morning with Rose, teaching several of the younger lads how to handle a bow. There are so few of us here who've had any kind of training or experience in fighting. And we can't even use the two people who have the most skill of all."

"Maura Tuk. We've discussed this before. There's no way the shirriff would let Pio or Mith come striding onto the party field with a bow or a sword. He'd assume they were up to no good."

Maura began muttering a few choice words under his breath concerning the shirriff and his myopic vision, and how it would serve the fellow right if the bandits came and personally carted him off. Then, seeing the tired look on Cami's face, he stopped short, and turned to look hard at her.

"You don't look good. Ever since that week in Buckland, you've looked tired. You're not eating. Maybe I should have made the journey on my own."

"Don't be silly, Maura. I'm fine. That time in Buckland and the Marish was beautiful, and the trip was helpful. At least we got some information about what these prowlers look like."

"That may be," Maura nodded, "but you've left your plate untouched again. I'm going to cook you up a fresh batch of eggs, nice sunny side eggs."

Visions of unpleasant yellow yolks danced through Cami's head. She didn't know why the healers called it morning sickness. As far as she could tell, she was sick morning, noon, and night. But Pio had told her it wasn't unusual, and it should pass in another month when all her energy and appetite would return in full force. The news about several kidnappings in other parts of the Shire, mostly in the Marish, had also done little to increase her appetite. But at least it had been quiet in Hobbiton and Bywater.

She sat dutifully in front of the eggs Maura had fixed for her, using her fork to push them from one side of the plate to the other. Meanwhile, she nibbled on a small cracker in hopes of diverting her husbands' attention. When he turned his back momentarily, she managed to spoon one of the eggs into Holly's mouth, so there was at least a small dent on the plate.

Once or twice Maura turned and gave her a very strange look. He seemed uncertain what to do, but finally spoke, "Promise me something, Cami. Promise me you'll go see Pio and have her check you over to make sure you're alright."

Cami beamed back. She could readily agree to that, since it was something she was already doing on her own. "I'll go this afternoon, and I'll ask the boys to make sure and come for dinner."

"Good. Could you take Holly with you? I promised to go over later and look at some knives one of the deputies found stashed away in an old cupboard in the Locks."

Cami nodded in agreement, and the two kissed goodbye. For the moment,the mystery of the leftover eggs was forgotten, as they both set out to take care of business. They had no idea that the afternoon would turn out to be drastically different than what they had planned for.

[ April 09, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Nurumaiel]

Fosco Muddyfoot sat on the front step of the little hole with dismal eyes. Both his parents were gone, and the children had been given strict orders not to leave the house. Fosco's eyes followed each grasshopper that passed him by, and he fingered his little sling regretfully as he looked at the birds singing in the trees. Mummy didn't like him shooting at birds, anyway.

"Fosco, what are you doing here?" Prisca asked. "You're outside. You can't be there."

"I can be here," said Fosco fiercely. "See, I'm not outside. If I was outside every time the door was opened you would be outside too."

"Oh." Prisca thought about this a little while, then plopped down next to him. "Then I'm not outside, either." A new idea came to her head. "But, Fosco, what if a bad person were to come up and capture us while we were sitting here."

"They couldn't," said Fosco, sitting up straight and wise. "We're not outside." And, to their young minds, this sounded quite reasonable.

They sat for awhile in silence. Little Prisca was not in the least cautious, even though a pile of mud lay right by her brother's feet. Fosco thought of how Mummy told someone once that they were 'too trusting.' I don't know what that could mean, the little hobbit lad thought, so I can't be it.

"Ooooh!!" Prisca jumped up and pointed. "Look at the big grasshopper, Fosco!"

Fosco scrambled to his feet. "It's huge," he gasped, his eyes fairly popping from his head. "It must be the son of the dragon I fought back at that place and it's still little so it can't fly." He set down his sling and glared at the grasshopper, which was perched on the very top of a long blade of grass. "Prisca, you get back. I'll get that dragon!"

Prisca gave a little squeal and ran down the hallway. Fosco, completely forgetting what his parents had said, leaped over the threshold of the door and began to chase the grasshopper. Prisca watched him for awhile, but then grew bored and went to see if there were any good things to eat in the kitchen. At last she found some little cakes her mother had made the day before up in one of the high cupboards. Grabbing a little stool, she proceeded to climb after it.

Fosco, meanwhile, was having a grand time with the grasshopper. He chased it all about the garden, until it decided it had had enough and jumped over the fence. "Oh, you're mean!" he cried in exasperation. Then something clicked in his mind and he glanced over his shoulder. No one was watching him. Quickly and silently, he leaped over the fence and began chasing the insect down the road.

[ April 08, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

So engrossed was the child in his pursuit of the grasshopper that he took no note of where he ran. His attention so grabbed it was easy for his observer to follow him un-noticed. The little boy laughed as every time his hand stretched out to catch the green creature it took another leap out of his grasp. It even managed a sarcastic chirp of it's legs as it finally vanished into some particularly long grass at the side of the lane.

"Bother!" The boy snapped and kicked up some gravel into the verge in frustration. "I only wanted to be friends you silly thing."

He turned about to go home and walked straight into a leg. Fosco leapt back and held up his fists. He stared up into the eyes of a giant man who seemed to be laughing at him. Old Stoat had really taken to the work Ferny had set him of late.

"Phew you're smelly!" Fosco shouted. He had no fear of the man. He had not learned to fear men. He merely stood his ground, a miniture pugalist.

"Aye, ah may be." Stoatie replied and took a casual sniff at his own coat. "But ah do have some sweeties in me pocket and ah'm a good sight more friendly than that there grasshopper."

Fosco weighed him up as much as his child's brain could. He knew he shouldn't talk to strangers but then he knew he shouldn't have wandered off in the first place. Besides, surely everyone meant strange hobbits, not men. No body had mentioned men to him. He thought he'd ask, just in case. He allowed his arms to fall but braced his leg to give him a good kick if needs be.

"Are you a man?"

"Aye, Fosco, Ah am."

"How do you know my name?" He gasped.

"I've bin watchin' o'er you. I'm a good friend. Keepin' an eye, makin' sure yer fine an' dandy."

"Why?" Fosco took a step towards his new companion, but not too close, his stench was over powering for an adult's nostrils, nevermind a child's.

"The elf-lady told me to." Old Stoat hoped that all his spying had paid off. He and Ferny had thought this a useful tack for when their plans drew close to Hobbiton. It would give them a plausible face to the children and if necessary a scapegoat while they made their exit.

"I don't know any elf ladies. Where are your sweeties then." Fosco hadn't a clue whether he did or not, he just wanted a sweetmeat.

Stoatie dug around in his pocket and pulled out a carefully folded handerchief quite juxtaposed to his image. It was even cleanish. He croutched down before the hobbit boy and offered the closed handerchief to him. Focused on the handerchief and the promise of its contents, Fosco stepped forward. He reached out to snatch the handkerchief and make a run for it. Stoatie was old but his reflexes, lightening quick. Broad daylight or no, the boy was grabbed.

Fosco was not an easy catch and both bit and kicked Stoatie several times before he was hauled through the hedge and out of sight. He wriggled like an eel or any number of other creatures that had no desire to be trapped but Stoatie had come prepared. The boy was soon trussed up like a spider's dinner and dumped, gagged upon the moss between some tree roots. Old Stoat rubbed his bruises and sucked his bitten hand.

"Ferny was right, yer are a little monster. Ah'll soon sort yer out." He gesticulated with the back of his hand to show that Fosco was heading for a slap. The child, now quite frightened, stared at him through wide, watering eyes and longed for his mother. He could neither shout, nor move. He sniffed loudly.

Stoatie sucked his hand again. "We'll let's be havin' yer, yer little brat." He snapped at the boy, wrapped him in his own coat and flung him over his shoulder.

To begin with on their journey across country Fosco and made himself nigh on impossible to carry by constant squirming. Another silent threat from Stoatie soon stilled the boy.

Back in the lane grasshoppers continued to rattle and a handkerchief dangled, caught in the hedge thorns.

[Nurumaiel]

Angelica and Merimac Muddyfoot strode up the little stone path that led to the door of their cheery little hole. It was late in the evening, and Angelica suspected that the children would be hungry. Her suspicions were confirmed when Prisca threw open the front door and cried, "My stomach is grumbling, Mummy! Daddy, do you know what? It's angry because it hasn't had any food."

"Well," said Merimac loudly, trying to lure Fosco out of wherever he was. "We just so happened to stop by the shop on the way back and we got…" He never finished. Holding up the sweets was enough. Prisca toddled forward excitedly and grabbed the candy, stuffing it into her mouth.

Angelica seemed a little puzzled as she stepped into the house with Merimac and closed the front door behind them. "Prisca-baby, where's your brother Fosco?"

"I don't know," said Prisca. "Maybe he's sleeping. I was sleeping."

Merimac saw the look in Angelica's eyes and hastened to comfort her. "I'm sure it's just as Prisca said. He must be sleeping somewhere. Come on, let's look." Taking her hand, he led her first to the twin's room. Fosco was not there. Nor was he in any of the other rooms.

"Oh, Mummy, I know now," said Prisca, tugging at her mother's skirt. "He was chasing baby dragons. That's what he called the grasshoppers."

"Where was he chasing them, Prisca?" Merimac asked firmly, before his wife could scream out any questions in terror.

"He went into the garden," the little girl replied. "I don't know what happened to him after that. I went to find a cookie."

"I'm going to the Shirriff this very moment," said Angelica, throwing on her shawl once more and nearly running to the front door. Merimac caught up with her, and pulled her back gently, saying, "Angelica, I'm sure he's staying with one of his friends. Nothing happened to him." Angelica opened her mouth to reply, but Merimac covered it with one hand and turned to Prisca. "Er…. Prisca, could you go find your older brother?"

Prisca set forth on this mission obediently, and Merimac let his wife's mouth free. Words tumbled from it. "But, Merimac, you know… you've heard… what if Fosco was kidnapped? What if the kidnapper found him wandering all alone and - "

"You know that didn't happen," said Merimac. "Now let's go find him." He sounded confident, yet after two hours of searching his eyes betrayed fear, though he tried to hide it from his wife. "Well… maybe we should see the Shirriff, just to let him know about it."

And the two worried hobbits stumbled into the Shirriff's office, Angelica's eyes red with crying, and the stain of tears still on her pale cheeks.

[ April 11, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Mithadan]

Halfred was asleep in his chair with his feet on his desk when the door to his office opened with a bang. He sat up quickly and shook his head to clear it of the cobwebs as the Muddyfoots walked over. "Merimac, Priscilla," he said. "A good evening to you both..."

"Our Fosco's gone," cried Priscilla. "He's disappeared!"

"Fosco?" asked the Shirriff. "That's the lad who was throwing mud at passerbyes last week, isn't it?"

Priscilla turned red at the mention of the incident. "He's gone," she reiterated. "You must find him!"

"Easy now," answered Halfred. "When was he last seen and where?"

"At our hole," responded Merimac. "We had gone off for a bit and left him there with his sister and brother with a warning not to step outside. Little Prisca saw him running about in the garden chasing a grasshopper or some such over four hours ago. We've been looking for him for some time and haven't found him."

"Well," said the Shirriff. "He's just wandered off, no doubt. I'll have a few of my lads keep an eye out and I'm sure he'll turn up."

"'Keep an eye out'?" Priscilla erupted. "He's been gone for hours! You'd best do more than 'keep an eye out'!"

It was Halfred's turn to get red in the face. "Very well," he replied. The Shirriff summoned four of his deputies and sent them out to look for Fosco. He had no doubt that the lad would reappear shortly...

An hour later, Halfred sat in his office mopping at his sweating face with a handkerchief. Not only had the boy not been found, but also a Hobbit had stopped by to report an unsavory character, one of the Big Folk, that had been seen skulking about. Not long after that, a second had arrived to say that an ill-favored Man had been seen walking east with a bundle over his shoulder. When asked to describe the Man, he answered that he was big, ill-kempt, with dark hair and a whiskery face.

Soon, all of Hobbiton was abuzz with the rumour of another kidnapping. Bands of Hobbits bearing cudgels, staves, axes, shovels and any other implement which might conceivably serve as a weapon were raoming the countryside looking for Fosco and his presumed assailant. The search continued through the evening even after an overzealous lad ignited a haystack with his torch. But no sign of Fosco or the Man was found.

[piosenniel]

‘Mithadan! Do you mind seeing who is banging on the door? The loud knocking did not abate. Pio sighed, rubbed her temples, and hauled herself off the bed. Long periods of sleep were a distant memory to her, and she had been hoping to take a short nap while the twins were quiet and at rest themselves.

She glanced out the front room window as she crossed from the bedroom to the door. It had grown dark out, the stars shone brightly against the black sky, and the moon was nearing full. She reached the door and pulled it open, only to have Gilly come tumbling in helter-skelter, a rush of words preceding her.

‘Slow down! Tell me what has happened.’ Pio, a frown on her face, pushed the incoherent Hobbit into a chair and sat down opposite her.

With careful questioning, Pio unraveled the story of the kidnapping. Gilly had just been in the kitchen with Cook, Ruby, and Buttercup when Prim came bursting through the doors to deliver the horrible news. A neighbor of Angelica’s had come into the Inn, stout walking stick in hand, and rallied the patrons to go looking for the missing Fosco. The story had come out in full detail about how one of the Big Folk, ill-kempt, with dark hair and a whiskery face, had kidnapped the young Hobbit. Hobbits in the area had come together to search for the missing child, and to be on the look out for the ruffian who had snatched him. Prim had mobilized the Inn staff and they had gone off to join in the search.

Pio’s face had gone pale at the thought of another kidnapping. She placed an arm protectively across her belly, an uneasy feeling niggling at the back of her mind. Gilly sat quiet now in her chair, her knees drawn up under her chin, arms clasped around her legs. Her eyes were wide with the dawning understanding of how badly this situation might turn out, her face drained of all color.

‘Who is tending the Inn?’ Pio rose from her seat, and stepping near Gilly, offered her a hand up. Gilly sniffled, and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

‘No one, Mistress Piosenniel. The Common Room is almost empty, the only ones left in it are the older Hobbits whose legs aren’t quite good enough for them to get around much.

‘Who is left here of the staff?’ Pio walked over to the desk by the door and drew out her knives. ‘Get my sword, please, from the chest over there, and the whetstone,’ she directed Gilly, mobilizing her into action.

‘None of the staff is here and even Rose has gone off on the search. It’s just you and I.’ She watched as Pio strapped the knives on her arms, and loosened the fastener on her baldric, placing it on one shoulder and adjusting it to fit her larger girth. Several more knives went into the fittings on it. ‘Are we going on the search, too?’ asked the Hobbit.

‘No, you and I will take care of the Inn until the others return.’ She handed Gilly a long knife to tuck into her belt.

Pio led they way out to the bar. She looked round the room, and as Gilly had said there were few customers, and all were sitting together, talking in hushed tones. Several eyed her with unfriendly looks as she took her place behind the bar. Ignoring them, she poured a pitcher of ale for Gilly to take round and fill up their mugs.

‘When you are done there, Gilly, go to the kitchen and make us a tray of sandwiches and put the water on for tea. People will be hungry when they drift in from the search, we should be ready for them.’ Gilly, glad for something to occupy her mind and hands, served the ale and headed for the kitchen as asked.

Pulling up a tall barstool behind the bar, Pio perched herself on it and placed her sword on the bar. Taking the whetstone she began working on the blade’s edge, her long strokes bringing it to razor sharpness.

Snick . . . snick . . . went the continuous rhythm of stone on steel. Her movements were calm and methodical, her face emotionless as she concentrated on the task at hand. Her thoughts, though, were troubled. Another child kidnapped. And by a Man . . . Here grey eyes scanned the room once more, glancing out the Inn windows as her gaze moved by them.

Where was Mithadan?

[ April 12, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Maura was at the shirriff's office looking over a small stash of weapons that had been tucked away in a closet when Angelica and Merimac first came bursting in. After hearing what had happened, he promised Angelica to get together a small group of hobbits who'd been patrolling the roads in recent weeks to aid in the search. Then he quickly excused himself and headed towards the Inn.

Maura stopped by the stables to make sure that Cami's boys were alright. He asked Lindo to keep a closer eye on them, since no one knew if this was an isolated incident or a prelude to a more general attack. When Gamba begged to be included in the search party, Maura reluctantly acceded, making the boy promise that he would stay close to his side. They saddled up two ponies and quickly made for Bag-end, the location they'd all agreed to meet if the bandits ever struck in Hobbiton and Bywater.

Before setting out on the road, Maura had swung by the burrow to try and speak with Cami, but she was already gone. He guessed she must have already heard the news. Her bow was missing, and she had taken Holly with her. With that piece of business behind them, Maura and Gamba quickly made their way up the road towards Bag-end.

[ April 14, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Nurumaiel]

At the same time as the Shirriff was hearing of the man with the bundle over his shoulder, Merimac had taken Madoc and Prisca into the dining room. He had sent Angelica to bed, hoping that she'd get some rest and forget about Fosco's disappearance for awhile.

Prisca's mouth was watering and her eyes hungry, for she had been about to get into the cookie jar, so Merimac spoke quickly. "Fosco has disappeared," he said with a deep sigh. "And we think he's been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Madoc looked shocked. "Surely nobody would do anything… bad to him?"

"I don't know why he was kidnapped, so I can't say if it was for ransom, for some other reason, or just an evil man wanting to cause trouble. It was one of the Big Folk who's suspected of taking Fosco." He turned to his daughter. "Prisca, you can go now." The lass dashed out of the room as fast as she could.

Merimac spoke a little longer with Madoc, telling him all that the Shirriff and other hobbits who had seen suspicious things had said. Madoc listened wide-eyed and worried, fearing for the safety and well-being of his little brother.

Meanwhile Angelica lay on her bed, trying to fall asleep, but she kept seeing Fosco in her mind, being taken East by one of the Big Folk. She had tried to open her mouth many times and tell Merimac her worries, but he would interrupt her and tell her not to think about it.

"If only I could find someone who would let me worry about my child," she groaned. "Cami… or Peony… or someone. Merimac doesn't seem to understand. I just want to cry and cry and…" Tears rose her eyes, but she fought them, knowing Merimac wouldn't want to come find her crying. She was supposed to be sleeping.

The door creaked open a bit and Prisca came in, cookie in hand. "Oh, there you are, Mummy," she said, backing out again. "I was supposed to find out where you went. You know Peony Muddyfoot? She came."

Relief surged through Angelica. It was like a miracle, Peony arriving right when she most needed someone. The door was pushed open and Peony came in. She strode forward calmly and sat down next to Angelica, saying, "I just heard the news. I'm so sorry, Angelica. Poor Fosco. I do hope he's all right."

Angelica was still struggling with her tears. Peony looked gently at her. "Don't mind me, dear," she said, putting her arms around the hobbit. "Don't mind me."

~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*

Bill Ferny sat impatiently, waiting for Stoatie. They had moved their hideout from Stoat's cottage to a place a little ways out of the village of Scary.

Stoatie'll most likely be wasting his time, Ferny thought. I told him to get here right away so I could tell him the plan for snatching Fosco Muddyfoot. Where could he be?

Ferny leaned back. I guess I'll just have to wait for him, he thought. But he's going to get some trouble from me. He's already late.

Ferny must have dozed off, for he was awoken by the sound of a child's voice screaming, "You let go of me, you big oaf! Hey, you're that big old troll that talked to me at the party. Want me to kick you again?"

Ferny jumped up in shock and saw Stoatie grinning as he set down a young hobbit boy. He backed up a few steps after he had done so. "Good job, Stoatie," said Ferny. "No wonder you took so long."

"Look at all you fools, grinning like that," Fosco said. "You know I'm a lot tougher than both of you put together? I'm going to go home now."

"No you're not," said Ferny. "You're going to stay right here."

"I will not!" Fosco screamed, and ran at Ferny. Kick after kick landed on the man's knees until he had collapsed to a kneeling position. Fosco then leaped at his head and knocked him flat on his back, jumping up and down on him and attack him ferociously.

"Don't… just… stand… there!" Ferny shouted in between punches and kicks from Fosco. "Get… him and… tie… him… up!"

Stoatie rushed forward and grabbed the lad, quickly wrapping some rope around him in tight knots. Then he tossed him into a corner, and stood back as Ferny advanced. "You little brat!" he snarled. "I should just kill you right now!"

"If you kill me I'll blast lightning at you," Fosco threatened.

"I'd like to see you try," Ferny sneered.

"I'll try… and do it."

Ferny retreated to the opposite end of the room to tend to his bruises, leaving Stoatie to guard the hobbit boy.

[ April 14, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Orual]

"Sam, did you hear?" Rose came into the room like a thunderstorm came into a town, a wailing Hamfast on her hip and her eyes wild with either fright or concern, or both, Sam could not tell.

"Hear what?" he asked, going up to her. He looked at her, puzzled. "I've been in my office all day, trying to get next week's patrol schedule in order."

"Do you remember Merimac Muddyfoot?" Rose asked. Sam nodded. "His son, Fosco, he's gone missing!"

Sam felt like he had been punched in the stomach. "Missing?" he echoed hoarsely. Rose nodded, catching her breath. "They're sure he didn't just wander off? There was that time when Merry-lad went missing for nearly a day, and we found him up at the Dragon, drinking apple juice and chatting with the innkeeper like he had was invited." Though it was a favorite family story of his, Sam could not find much enthusiasm about Merry-lad's escapades.

Rose shook her head. "No, he's really gone. He was out playing in front of the house one minute, so I heard, and next minute he was gone. Just gone, Sam! And after all your hard work and planning, despite all the precautions that everyone's been taking, it happened anyway. Who would have thought that it could really happen, here in Hobbiton?" Rose shuddered, and held Hamfast, who had quieted, closer.

"Does everyone know about this?" Sam asked.

Rose shrugged. "A number do, but I don't think everyone does. Angelica and Merimac went to the Shirriff, and several other people know, but I don't think that it's public knowledge yet."

"What's going on, Sam?" Frodo came into the room, followed by Merry-lad and Goldilocks, the latter trying to catch a hold of his ankle. Rose gave Hamfast to Sam and went to herd the children out of the room. Sam sighed deeply and explained the situation. Frodo was about to reply when a knock came at the door.

"I'll get it," Rose called from the hall. There was a creaking of the door opening, and shortly after she re-entered the room with Maura and Gamba.

Sam greeted them and offered them seats. "I'm glad to see you. I don't even know where to begin, other than to organize a search party, I guess..." Sam ran his hands through his curly hair in frustration. "Who would have thought that this would happen in Hobbiton?"

[ April 13, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan tiptoed out of his room, taking care to not wake Piosenniel. He could not sleep and decided to make his way to the kitchen to get a snack. As he walked down the steps he muttered to himself. He had been closeted within the Inn for several days now, at the advise of Prim and had begun to chafe at the inactivity. No surprise that he could not sleep. In the past days, he done little more than walk from his room to the common room and back.

He entered the kitchen quietly, carrying a candle. On the counter was a loaf of bread and a bowl of apples. He made a plate for himself and had just turned away when the door opened suddenly and Cook entered bearing a cudgel. "Who's there?" she cried, raising the club menacingly.

"Its just me," answered the Man. "Mithadan. I'm just getting a slice of bread and an apple."

She squinted at him in the dim light, then lowered the cudgel. "Oh, you did give me a turn, what with the goings on," she said.

"What has happened?" asked Mithadan. She related to him what was known of the disappearance of Fosco and the commotion that had arisen. The Man set down the plate and raced back up to his room only to find Piosenniel already gone. Dressing rapidly and buckling on his sword and knives, he returned to the common room to find Piosenniel there sharpening her knives. The few Hobbits there glared at him with distrust.

Sitting down across from his wife, he growled, "It seems that Bird is right. Trouble follows us like a plague..."

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

Pio's post

Snick . . . snick . . . Pio held up her last long knife and sighted along the edge, looking for nicks or burrs. It felt smooth and sharp as she ran a finger down the side of it.

‘Trouble does seem to have followed us, Mithadan. And I like it not.’ She oiled her stone, then picked up a smaller throwing knife and began to work on it. ‘If it were up to me, I would pack us up – you, and I, and Bird and leave the Shire. But even that, I think would do no good. Despite what Bird thinks, it was only a matter of time that evil would try to insinuate itself once again into the peaceful Shire.’

Pio laid down her knife, and reached for Mithadan’s hand. ‘I detest this position I find myself in. The twins will be born in five days. And I do not begrudge that, in fact I look forward to having them in my arms. But I can do nothing to help Cami and the other Hobbits of the Shire who I have come to know as my friends. My body is unwieldy. I cannot ride to search out the evil creatures who have taken the children. Nor, I think, will I be able to fight very effectively. Again, my body betrays me – I have no grace to move quickly.’ She shook her head and sighed.

‘You know I am an action oriented person. I long to step in and take care of this problem.’ Her eyes flashed in irritation. ‘But I simply cannot. Now I must consider the wellbeing of my children before my own wants.’ Pio picked up her knife again in exasperation and began to work on it. ‘The best I can do, it seems, is to stay here, safe at the Green Dragon, and do what little I can to keep the Inn safe . . . and from what, I am not even sure.’

‘You know,’ she said, tapping the point of the knife on the table as she thought, ‘that is our biggest problem at this point. We have no idea who these Men are or why they are kidnapping the Shire children.’ She rubbed the line of her jaw with her thumb as she thought it out. ‘What are they planning to do with the children? Where are they hiding? They must know the area well to drop so easily, and so thoroughly, from sight when they need to.’

She leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on her steepled fingers, and looked directly at Mithadan. ‘Now that I think about it, even were I able to do it, it would be a difficult task for me to ferret out this information and proceed. What Men are going to let an Elf easily pump them for information?’

Pio took her knife and skewered the apple on Mithadan’s plate. She cut it neatly in two, and offered him half on the palm of her hand. His grey eyes met hers as he reached for the offering.

‘But you, beloved,’ she said quietly, ‘you could do this . . .’

[ April 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[theWhiteLady]

Rose Goodchild had just begun to snuggle under the covers in her and Gilly’s room, when her thoughts were interrupted by Gilly’s excited jabbering down the hall. “What now?” Rose grumbled to herself, but a smile played at the corners of her mouth. Since Pio had first thrown them together in the same bedroom, Rose had grown very fond of her companion. Gilly’s thirst for adventure and the unknown reminded Rose of herself not so very long ago, and it was quite flattering to have such a ready audience to her stories of the Lonely Star and the adventures the crew encountered.

Throwing the covers back and wincing a little as the chilly night air brought goose bumps to her bare legs, Rose sat up and pulled on a dirty pair of work pants and floppy shirt that were lying handily on the floor. For once, the young hobbit thanked her friend for being messy; it kept her from searching around in the dark drawers.

By the time Rose arrived at Pio’s doorpost, Gilly was nearly done with her story, still
breathing hard from excitement. Pio was looking particularly grim, one hand resting protectively on her swollen belly, the other gripping the doorknob tightly and in the background, Mithadan was lacing up his boots. From what she had overheard, Rose was able to piece together a rough portrait of what had happened. Her stomach fell and felt sickeningly hollow as she thought of the poor hobbit babe.

A few hours later, she was leading a party of hobbits through a patch of woods near where Fosco disappeared. Mithadan had led Rose and the rest of the volunteers from the inn to Bag End where they met up with Maura. Weapons, mostly farming tools and rusty relics untouched for time out of mind, were handed out and the gathered hobbits were split up to search for the babe. Rose was surprised to see she was not the only female hobbit present; a few young lasses had come out. They had not yet started their own families, but the thought of their Fosco, lovable rascal that he was, in bandit’s hands made them almost fierce with a motherly protection. There was even, to Rose’s great amusement, a determined hobbit grandmother with flashing eyes and a cane that seemed a suitable weapon against bandits and mischievous hobbit children alike!

So far, however, the search had been fruitless. Rose still tried to keep her sleepy eyes alert, peering intently through the darkness, but hope seemed to be fading as the pale light over the horizon grew stronger. There did not seem to be much more the hobbits could do that night, and the bandits, if indeed it had been bandits, would surely have carried Fosco far away by now. An exasperated sigh escaped Rose’s lips and she shivered slightly from the chilling dew. She had forgotten to bring a jacket. The woods thinned and a road became visible. Rose could dimly see smoke rising from Angelica and Merimac’s home, and she began to trudge in that direction. Her head hung low from exhaustion and discouragement. and her hazel eyes closed wearily. Upon opening, they gazed, half unseeing, upon a small handkerchief blowing in the morning breeze. The young woman stopped, thinking hard for a moment and trying to comprehend what it was she was seeing. Then, with a sudden movement, she snatched up the bit of cloth and began tearing wildly down the lane towards the curl of smoke. After so much searching, Rose simply knew that this must be some clue to the hobbit child’s disappearance.

[ April 13, 2003: Message edited by: theWhiteLady ]

[ April 14, 2003: Message edited by: theWhiteLady ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

ArwenBaggins' post

Elanor sat on a small feather bed, hands between her legs, Rosie on another bed next to her. She twisted the side of her blanket, and saw the door swing open. She jumped up, and ran to her mother and her two siblings. "Mama, what’s happening’? All kinds of hobbits are running around in the streets, calling names!" She looked expectantly to her mother, who shooed Goldilocks and Merry-lad onto a bed.

"Nothing dear," Rose whispered to her daughter.

"Then what is everybody doin’?" Elanor asked worriedly.

"Everything’s fine dear. Just go to sleep," Rosie folded back the covers of the beds.

The door of the hole swung open. Three male Hobbits where talking outside the door, and then the door swiftly banged closed. Rosie jumped up and murmured, "Mama, who just opened the door??"

Rose gently pushed them down onto their pillows. "Papa’s leaving for a few hours. He’ll be back soon, Go to sleep!"

"Yes Ma’am." Elanor muttered, and laid her head on the pillow. Rose smothered the candle, and everything went still.

[ May 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nurumaiel]

A soft knock on the door interrupted Merimac. "Madoc, would you go get that?" he asked, frowning. Now was not the time for guests, no matter what they might want. Hadn't they all heard of Fosco's disappearance? Of course they had, and now they were here to go on about how sorry they were when they could be searching the Shire for the lad.

Madoc left the dining room and went down the long hallway, towards the front door. The knock sounded again, so he hastened to open the door. Then he blushed to the tip of his ears as he found himself face to face with a young girl… whom he thought very beautiful indeed.

"Hello, Miss…"

"Rose Goodchild," the girl said. "I want to speak to your mother or father. It concerns Fosco's disappearance."

"Of course, Miss Goodchild."

"You can call me Rose."

"All right then, Rose." Madoc stood there, staring into her eyes, completely fascinated, while she waited politely for him to go fetch his parents. A few minutes passed.

"Are your parents home?"

Madoc started and came back to earth. "Yes, miss, they are. Dad can talk to you. Mum is unable to come right now. Would you come in?"

"Thank you."

Madoc led her down the hall, back to the dining room, where he announced her to his father. "Miss Rose Goodchild, here to see you, Dad." He received a puzzled look from his father, but he didn't care. He wanted to impress young Rose.

"Well, Miss Rose," said Merimac, offering her a chair. "What brings you here?"

theWhiteLady's post

Rose was too distracted to notice the faint flush that lit up the young hobbit lad's face when he opened the round door, but she was able to admire the tidy, well-organized hole in which he lived. It did not seem the type of place, nor did it house the type of people, to allow their children to carelessly wander away. Her thoughts were quickly dragged back to the subject at hand by Merimac's courteous greeting, however, and her words began tumbling out as she sat into the chair he offered, then popping right back up as she spoke, too agitated to rest.

"Oh, Mister Merimac, I have been looking all night for your little Fosco - parties were sent out when the news reached the Green Dragon - and neither hide nor hair were we able to find in my party. I was getting quite tired, to tell the truth, when I happened to spy this piece of cloth by the roadside."

And Rose lifted up the crinkled handkerchief she had been clutching in her hand for Merimac to see. Merimac rose slowly, but Rose's attention was drawn back to the doorway where Madoc still stood.
"Dad, that's Fosco's handkerchief! That's just got to be his! It is, Dad, isn't it?"

Madoc's eyes were very round as he looked from the cloth back to his father. Merimac reached out and took the bit of fabric from Rose's outstretched hand; his head shook, he was not listening to his son, and, for a moment, he turned away. Rose felt her happiness at finding a clue vanish as she watched him, and her heart began to cry with pity and anger.

Nurumaiel's post

"Thank you so very much," said Madoc, deciding to take things into his own hands. It was clear that his father was unable to speak, and it was also clear that he was doing all he could to keep from tears. "You don't know how much it means to us all."

Rose was quite unable to speak as well. She just gave a little nod and murmured something inaudible, and then, with Madoc by her side, left the room and travelled back down the hallway. Madoc found his face growing more and more red as he looked at Rose. She was awfully pretty, and so nice.

"I hope I haven't disturbed you," said Rose haltingly. "And I'm sure Fosco will be found, alive and well."

"Yes, I'm sure he will, especially if more people like you help," said Madoc, unable to take his eyes from her. "You must be very sleepy now," he added, without realizing how abruptly he was changing the subject.

"I am rather sleepy… good night," she said, walking out the door, Merimac's grief-filled face still in her mind. She walked slowly down to the gate, then paused. She had something to say in the back of her mind, but she could not reach it. She hadn't been given a message but she knew… Oh, yes, that was it. "And tell your mother Cami gives all her love and is sure everything will turn out wonderfully."

Madoc looked like he was in a daze. "And tell Miss Rose Goodchild that Madoc gives her all his love," he said dreamily. "Good night."

Rose opened the gate, laughing silently to herself at Madoc's final remark, praying that Fosco would be found, and went down the road, while the little lad of ten years stood at the door of his hole, still watching her until she was out of sight. Then he turned and went inside, singing an old love song his mother used to sing a long time ago.

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

As Ferny tended his bruises, Stoatie sat upon a wonky wooden milking stool opposite the child. He glanced sideways at his supposed master and allowed himself yet another grin.

Although firmly bound Fosco was un-gagged. He tried a verbal jab at his gaoler. "I'm going to get you too. You don't stand a chance against me. And all my family. We're going to mash you to a pulp. Even my sister is going to beat you up."

Stoatie sighed and shook his head. Once more he raised the back of his hand using it as a threat. "Do what yer like to the gov'nor laddie but don't yer dare cross me. He's got a plan or something going on in that head but I don't care if yer live or die."

Fosco swallowed hard and was temporarily silenced. He began to look around the room, or was it a cave? He was a resourceful boy, despite being quite a handful and was already seeking out a means of escape or at least a method by which he could even out the odds between himself and these two bullies.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Sam rode at the head of a small band of hobbits, cantering up and down the lanes, then dismounting and carefully leading them on foot across the fields to try and pick up the trail of the intruders. The group trekked north and east of The Water in the general direction of Budge Ford. It was Frodo who unearthed their one and only clue.

Pushing his way through the mud and tangled roots of a small copse on a nearby hillock, Frodo stumbled upon a deserted burrow. He poked his upper body through the broken timbers of the door and kicked his foot against the lower part of the threshold to scatter the remnents of wood over to the side. The interior of the burrow was dark and dank. Yet he could clearly hear the sound of a hobbit child crying somewhere in the corner behind an old bed.

Frodo's heart pounded fiercely as he stepped inside, holding his weapon aloft above his head. The crying abruptly stopped, but he still heard muffled sounds issuing from the darkness, although it was impossible to see anything clearly. He called out fiercely to whoever or whatever was making the noise to come out, but there was no response.

Suddenly, everything broke loose at once. Frodo's cries brought Sam and the others racing in behind him. As they pressed forward, a large hooded and kneeling figure could be vaguely seen in the darkness. Near its outstretched hand was a sack which looked as if it contained some kind of living thing kicking and squirming inside.

Gamba, who'd been cautiously advancing at Maura's side, raced forward with nervousness and the impetuosity of youth. He raised his cudgel high and was about to bring it down with force on the kneeling figure, when he was abruptly halted by Maura's strong arm. Almost immediately, the hooded creature emerged from the shadows.

It turned out to be not a man, but two hobbits hiding side-by-side under a blanket. One was an older gaffer, with a lined face and white hair; the other a young lad apparently his grandson. They were both quaking with fear.

"Frodo? Frodo Baggins? Is that you?," the older one blurted out. "It's me, Dudo Greenhand. Please don't hurt us."

Frodo strained his eyes and saw before him the familiar figure of Dudo, a scruffy hobbit from Frog Morton who had made his living poaching game and helping himself to an occasional domesicated animal off of other folk's farms. At that moment, the bag came untied, and a fat suckling pig scampered off into the woods.

Frodo breathed a sigh of relief, "Still up to your old tricks?"

"Aye, don't begrudge me. 'e was a runt that no one wanted. The sow had too many and the farmer was going to lay 'er down. I'll take good care of 'er." With that, he ordered his grandson to go out and retrieve the piglet. "Anyways, you'd show some mercy if you knew what we'd been through..."

"And just what was that?" Frodo countered.

"One of the big folk. A real bad 'un, by the look of it, came down by the Water. Almost scared us out of our wits. So we went and hid here. I was afraid 'is friends might come back to git us. He had this big, squirmin' sack, and he said 'e was collectin' bad boys. I figured my Tom fit that description all right."

"Where was he going? How long ago was this?" Sam quickly interrupted.

"He hightailed it out of 'ere almost two hours ago, and was goin' east as fast as you can go. He was alone, and I was scared he might send 'is buddies back."

Maura tried to pick up the trail of the departing bandit, but was unable to accomplish much of anything. Sam sighed and shook his head in frustration. Then the group made its weary way back towards the Inn and to the shirriff, and, most sadly of all, to speak with Fosco's mother and father and tell them the grim news they'd uncovered.

[ April 15, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan nodded grimly in response to Piosenniel's words. Yet, what could he do? He was viewed with distrust by the Hobbits and the Shirriff had strongly "recommended" that he stay at the Inn and not wander about the Shire.

Even as they sat, a number of locals began filtering into the Green Dragon seeking news, gossip and a late night pint. Some told of an army of Big People that was approaching the borders of the Shire. Others wondered if Saruman had returned to avenge himself against the Halflings that had rebelled against his rule. Still others told wild tales of Orcs and Trolls. But the words of one particular Hobbit were of the greatest interest to Mithadan.

Rory Burrows claimed that he had seen a Man skulking about the Shire more than once. The last time had been the evening of the meeting to discuss the earlier kidnappings. This Man was tall, like all the Big People, "though not as tall as Mister Mithadan, here." He had dark hair like Mithadan but appeared a bit older and thinner as well. He was not well dressed. His breeches and shirt appeared grey though they could have started out as any color given the amount of dirt on them. His face was brown from the sun, at least as much of it as could be seen above the Man's whiskers.

Rory claimed to have approached the Man to ask him his business. The Man had responded rudely with an odd accent. "And he was well in need of a bath," added the Hobbit. "Whew! You could smell him from a mile away as they say. His breath was foul too; too much smoking and not enough washing."

Some laughed at Rory's description. More than one joked that he had described nothing remarkable for one of the Big Folk. But Mithadan ignored the comment. He was lost in thought. A memory came to him as a result of Rory's words. A memory of a morning more than a month earlier from when he was on the road from Sarn Ford to the Shire. The Man he had met who had been in hiding...what was his name? Stoat. From Bree. Rory's description could very well fit this Stoat. Then Mithadan recalled Stoat's warning about the unfriendly Hobbits and his invitation to join him in Bree if he did not enjoy the Shire's hospitality.

He turned to Piosenniel and said, "I think that I know what I must do..."

[piosenniel]

To anyone in the Inn who looked their way, it was simply a couple, leaning close together, sharing something. Perhaps details of their day, perhaps talk of what the babies would be named. Their voices were low, and often he bent his head to hers, touching it briefly, and at such times, no words passed between them.

Behind the bar, serving the customers who had come in late from the search, Gilly watched them. Piosenniel’s posture was taut, and her hand often strayed to her neck, rubbing it as Mithadan spoke to her. He had pulled his chair very near her, his left elbow resting on the table, left hand gesturing as if to tick off points. His right arm went protectively round her tight shoulders, his fingers twining in a strand of her hair. Piosenniel’s gaze was focused on the table in front of her, eyes narrowed and her face pale.

Gilly drew a pint of ale and fixed a small glass of watered wine. Placing them on a wooden serving tray, she drew nearer the two. Their backs were turned to her, and so engrossed were they in their conversation that they did not hear her approach, her soft steps fading behind the noisy talk of those who had come in from the search.

‘Once this starts I will not be able to be with you. They will have to think that I am truly with them,’ Gilly heard Mithadan say. ‘It will take that to convince them I am trustworthy enough to be let in on things.’ She saw Piosenniel take a deep breath, her lips parting as if to speak. Mithadan’s eyes searched her grey ones. ‘If you wish it, Piosenniel, I will put this task aside and stay with you.’

‘You have thought it out well, I think, Mithadan. And though your plan seems more dangerous than I had thought or hoped, it is a sound one.’ She looked at him, smiling ruefully. ‘You know I will not ask you to stay. I only wish that I could go with you.’ She leaned forward and kissed his brow. ‘I will save the naming for you until your return. We will celebrate then, when the task is done.’

They grew quiet as Gilly drew up to the table, and they noted her presence. ‘Some refreshment for you, Mister Mithadan and for you, Mistress Piosenniel.’ The Hobbit smiled and bobbed a small curtsy, withdrawing to the bar where a few thirsty Hobbits had queued up.

Piosenniel took a small sip of her wine, and leaned in close to Mithadan, again. ‘Bird,’ she said low to him, ‘have you spoken with her yet . . .’

[ April 17, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's Post

"Bird?" asked Mithadan in response to Piosenniel's query. "I've not seen her for some time. She might be of some assistance, wouldn't she?"

He sat quietly for a moment, then reached out and took the Elf's hand. "But if I leave now, I shall miss the birth of the twins. How can I do that?"

"And how can you leave Fosco and the others in the hands of their captors?" retorted Piosenniel. "And who else will be taken or harmed if you wait? There is no one else who can do this in the Shire. Would you leave it up to Master Halfred to find the kidnappers?"

Mithadan snorted at the mention of the Shirriff. "He will come visiting soon," he said. "To interview me as a 'person of interest' as if speaking to one man might reveal the mind of another." He fell silent, struggling with an internal debate; duty against desire. At times it seemed that his entire life had been such a debate. But having experienced this conflict often enough, he knew well which side would win in the end.

He looked deep into his wife's eyes and laid a hand upon her belly. Then Mithadan leaned reluctantly away and reached out with his mind. Bird. We need you...

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Finally, the last of the locals had left the Inn. Gilly was dead tired as she locked the doors and wiped off the bar top. She dragged a load of mugs and tankards to the kitchen, and left them to soak overnight in the big stone sink. Prim would not be happy about that nor would Cook, but Gilly simply had not the energy to wash a single mug tonight.

Rose, it seemed had already gone to sleep. She, too, had come in late with some of the Hobbits who had joined in the search. She had barely gotten a hello out to Gilly, when a table of thirsty Hobbits had called Gilly away, demanding another round of ale. By the time they had all gotten what they wanted, and bent her ear a dozen times about the invasion of the Shire by Big Folk, Rose had already disappeared upstairs.

Gilly blew out the last of the lamps in the Common Room, and lighting a small candle lantern went carefully up the inn stairs taking care to step over the seventh one which creaked loudly when trod on. She heard the door to Mithadan and Piosenniel’s quarters open, and saw a figure in the darkness making for the kitchen. She shrugged it off. ‘Probably Mistress Piosenniel,’ she thought to herself, ‘up looking for a snack.’

She continued on up the stairs, her thoughts turning to the few snatches of conversation she had overheard between the Elf and Man. By the time she reached her room, she was wide awake and trying to reason out what they were planning on doing.

The room was dark as she entered. She could hear the soft, regular breathing of Rose. Gilly put the dimmed-down lantern on the small table between their beds and sat down on top of the quilt cover for her bed, staring hard at the sleeping form of the other girl beneath the blankets.

‘Rose!’ she whispered. And getting no response she spoke a little louder, ‘Rose!!’ Gilly reached out with her foot and tapped Rose’s bed.

‘Rose! Wake up! It’s Mithadan and Mistress Piosenniel. I need to tell you what I overheard . . .’

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

theWhiteLady's post:

A few lazy crickets called into the dusk and, somewhere out in the darkening sky, a bobwhite sang his solitary note. Rose sat at the window by her bedside and watched the darkness spread slowly, almost imperceptibly, over the Shire. The sunset had not been brilliant, with bright colours shining desperately for their few moments of glory before fading quickly into the night. Rather, the night had come softly, creeping stealthily, so that it was with surprise that one realized that night had fallen.

Rose felt her lids droop as though the soft glow over the horizon was a lullaby singing her slowly to sleep. The young hobbit roused herself to crawl into the delicious bed waiting with open covers to harbor her in its refreshing embrace; Rose was happy to sink into the soft mattress and forget the sad events of the dying day. It was a relief to fall into forgetfulness and only a moment later, Rose was quite asleep.

A few hours later, which seemed only a few minutes to the sleeping hobbit, Gilly’s persistent voice brought Rose back into the dark room.

“What is it, Gilly?” she mumbled. It took several tries to disentangle herself enough from sleep’s grasp to decipher her friend’s jabbering. Listening carefully, Rose’s eyes became very round and she felt her heart beating faster. It seemed the day had not yet finished with its troubles and thoughts of sleep were quickly chased away by concern for Mithadan’s safety.

“But, what can we do? It’s near impossible to change Pio’s mind about anything once she’s set on it and Mithadan’s almost as bad! It’s not right though,” Rose was impatient with frustration. “They are always tending others, it’s not right that Mith should be gone when Pio has her twins! But what can we do about it, Gilly?” Rose’s hazel eyes filled with tears and turned to her friend for help.

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Gilly sat down on Rose’s bed and put her arms round her friend for comfort. She offered her the hanky she always had tucked in her breeches pocket and waited until Rose had collected herself before she answered her question.

‘Well,’ said Gilly drawing back a little to look the sniffling Rose in the face, ‘we could take either of two paths. We could stay here, and sort of stand in for Mithadan – make sure Mistress Piosenniel has us around to rely on, since Mithadan will be gone. The twin’s birth is only five days away, we can do things for her that she might have asked Mithadan to do or to help her with. Keep her company. And try to keep her mind off the danger Mithadan has gone into.’

Rose shook her head negatively as she wiped the old tears from her cheeks and blew her nose. ‘Pio likes company, but not that much and that close. She would be shooing us out of the room before an hour had passed. If we decided to do that, we would have to be very subtle in our approach. And even now, I can see Pio raising her eyebrows at one or the other of us - telling us she knows what we are doing and would we mind not crowding her so much.’

Gilly sighed, looking down at the rumpled coverlet on the bed as if for inspiration. A few moments later, she looked up, an impish gleam in her eyes. ‘We could help from the other end of the problem.’

‘How’s that?’ asked Rose, her interest piqued by the look on her friend’s face.

‘We could follow after Mithadan! Make sure he’s safe.’ Gilly stood up her hands on her hips, looking resolutely at Rose. ‘I’m sure you and I could find some way to help him. What do you think?’

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

27 Nárië

Cook bent down and pulled open the door to the oven. Ten fine, fat loaves of wholegrain bread were already lined up neatly on cooling racks along the long counters that ran on either side of the stone sink. They would be needing plenty, she thought for the bands of searchers still out looking for Angelica’s boy. She had already sent Hob to the storage room by the smokehouse to bring her a nice big ham. And now she had him busy with the fine edged carving knife, slicing off thin pieces of ham for the sandwiches later.

She took a clean broom straw and tested the doneness of the muffins she was baking for breakfast. Blueberry, blackberry, and apple-currant were pulled from the oven, their crusty sugar-browned tops glistening in the lamplight. She set them to cool in their pans for a little while, then popped them free of their cups and lined them up on racks alongside the bread.

It was quite early in the morning, still dark outside, the time of day Cook liked best. The Inn was quiet, the guests still sleeping. Only Hob was there, skillfully slicing the ham. They worked quietly, each at his own task, exchanging few words, and then only as needed to get the food for the day readied.

Hob, done with the carving, piled the ham on a large platter, covering it with a clean napkin and set it in the cooler. ‘Don’t wake the girls, Cook. I’ll go out and see to the eggs,’ he said, pulling on his woolen coat, and taking up the egg basket with his hand.

‘Leave some for the two broody hens to sit on,’ Cook told him as he reached the door. ‘I’m going to be needing ten plump little pullets when you get done with that. I’ve got a taste for baked chicken with taters and carrots tonight. Might as well get on with providing for their replacements.’ He nodded and went out the door, letting in a little of the chill morning air.

‘Brr! That breeze is cold this morning. Any chance for a cup of tea?’

Cook gasped and turned round quickly at the question, the heavy brass damper hook raised high against the possibility of an intruder. She dropped the hook down to the stone floor with a loud clunk. ‘Miz Pio!’ she exclaimed, on hand over her thumping heart. ‘You mustn’t go sneaking up on me like that, especially these days. You gave me quite a turn!’

Pio had backed away from Cook, standing just out of reach of the long metal tool, a surprised look on her face. ‘I did not mean to frighten you.’

‘No, of course you didn’t, dear. It’s just the old nerves are shot ever since I heard about those kidnappings near Frogmorton, and now the Big Folk have taken one of our own little ones.’ Cook pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, and busied herself with making a pot of tea. ‘I’m real jumpy now. Not sleeping too well. I keep hearing strange footsteps as I lay dozing, but when I wake there’s no one to be seen.’ She placed a generous pinch of tea leaves in the bottom of the clay pot and filled it to the brim with water just off the boil from the kettle on the hob.

Cook pointed to a chair at the kitchen table and bade Pio sit down. Fresh bread, cut thick, spread with sweet cream butter and swirls of honey appeared on a plate in the middle of the table. Cook brought over two steaming mugs of tea and placed one in front of Pio. She put a slice of the fragrant bread on a small plate in front of the Elf, and took the other for herself.

‘Eat up!’ She smiled at Pio and took a large bite of bread, washing it down with a swig of tea. ‘Those babies need some good food. Eat up!’

Hob came in, the basket now filled with large brown eggs. ‘I’ll take a cup of that tea, if you don’t mind,’ he said, rolling up his shirt sleeves and giving his hands a thorough scrubbing. A few moments later, mug in hand, he was sitting at the table with them discussing the events of yesterday.

Every little detail was rehashed, including all the stories they had heard from the patrons at the Inn. Some they discounted and some they nodded their heads over. What they found most puzzling was why the Big Folk wanted to take the children.

‘You think we’d get a note or some such, saying they want something in return.’ Hob shook his head as he said this. ‘But not a word. They can’t be so mean as to just want to frighten us, can they?’

Cook turned to Pio with a question. ‘Your mister, what does he think of all that’s gone on? Can he fathom why they’re doing this?’ Hob looked across the table, also waiting for her answer.

‘These are evil Men,’ she said carefully. ‘Their minds are clouded, their hearts turned toward shadow. Darkness follows them and steals its way into the Shire, bringing sadness and grief.’ She pulled her shawl round her shoulders fending off the sudden chill that crept into the room. ‘Mithadan is nothing like these men. He will aid you, as he can. As will I . . .’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had spent most of yesterday afternoon at the home of Hob and Minta, helping to take care of a parcel of children who'd been left there so their parents could go off searching the countryside for some sign of Fosco and his assailant. She had fussed and fretted at first, wanting to grab up her bow and go galloping through the lanes and fields. She still remembered a number of hiding places from her childhood, and yearned to go have a look, and see if she could find any clues as to the whereabouts or identity of the bandit.

But, by the time she'd gotten to the stables, all of the beasts had been claimed, so she would have had to go on foot. Worst of all, Cami was still feeling nauseous and a jaunt across the countryside, even for a very serious reason, did not seem like a good idea. So she had stayed and helped Minta care for a whole houseful of toddlers and babies who were crawling and tottering about in ten different directions at once.

By the end of the day, her feet and body were aching. Cami wondered if it wouldn't have been easier to go off on her own searching for clues in the lanes and byways. At least, then, she'd have been able to stop for a while and rest, something which had proven impossible with such a gaggle of small children all trying to escape at once out of the doors and windows. As the news had slowly filtered back through the day and evening, she found herself increasingly depressed with the realization that Fosco was nowhere to be found, and all of their children now stood in danger of further attacks.

With the return of the final search party, Maura had come over to retrieve her, now that the other children had been picked up by their parents. The two of them decided to sleep in the stable, for what little of the night remained. That way, Maura reasoned, he could keep a closer eye on Gamba and his charges. Cami immediately drifted off to sleep in the hay, while Maura tucked the littlest ones in under Gamba's watchful eye. Then Maura went and barred the stable door and lay down in front of it to make sure no one else could force their way in. It was probably not necessary, he thought. But, under the circumstances, one could never be too careful.

They'd gone to the Inn that morning to get breakfast, and Cami had searched for Mithadan and Piosenniel, banging on their chamber door with no succeess. Whether they were out, or just preferred to maintain their privacy, Cami could not guess. She had then searched the hallways and back courtyard for her friends, but they were nowhere to be seen. She was deeply worried about Fosco and the other hobbit children, but she also kept reflecting on Bird and Mithadan, and what the shirriff might try to do to them. Even worse were the muttered curses that she'd heard on the part of some of the other hobbits who should have known better. Cami felt an urgent need to see Mithadan and make sure he was alright.

By the time, she stumbled back into the common room to get a bite to eat, she saw Cook and Hob and Maura seated at a table with Pio. Cami joined them, saying little beyond a gruff good morning, not joining in the conversation which centered almost wholly on the latest news, and eating only a crumb or two. After finishing their tea and cleaning bread off the trenchers, Hob and Maura had gotten up to leave. Maura had promised to hold another training session with bows and daggers and pitchforks out under the mallorn tree, and Hob had business to do in the stables, tending to all the horses who had been dropped off there after the search had ended. The Inn was now buzzing with activity, since many of the searchers had stayed the night at the Inn rather than walking home so late.

As Cami watched the two figures leave, she leaned closer to her friend, "Pio, we have to talk. Where is Mithadan? I wanted to speak with him, but couldn't find him anywhere. It's as if he's avoiding being seen. I urgently need to tell him something...."

Pio looked over at her and wrinkled her brow. "Tell him something? What's that?"

Cami opened her mind and let Pio's thoughts come slipping into her own. It took only a moment for the Elf to understand what had happened the night before. Just as she had so long ago on the Star, Cami had found herself dreaming, a vision more vivid than life itself. This time, it was not the Lady of Sorrows or the rascally Gamba with his serious brother. This time, the focus of her dream was Mithadan and Bird. There were dark shadows all about, and Mithadan was wearing a great black cloak. There were Men, evil Men, at his side who seemed to waiver between being suspicious and accepting him as one of their own. Cami knew Bird was there, but she could not see her. Still, she heard the flitter of wings overhead and a small, dark shadow in the rafters. At one point, an evil Man arose and placed his sword within a hair's breadth of Mithadan's throat. He seemed poised to draw back his arm and strike. The whole thing had seemed very, very real. It was at this point that Cami had awoken in a cold sweat with tears streaming down her face.

She glared up at Piosenniel and implored, "What is happening? Whatever it is, you must stop it. I fear for your husband's life."

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

After her fruitless search for the stranger, Bird left the next morning, feeling helpless and frustrated by the Shire's problems. Once again she took up her wanderings, wishing fervently that Pio would just "get on with it", so that they could all leave this little country to it's inhabitants.

Once again she flew north to Annúminas, finding the workings of the Dunedain there fasinating. She was circling over a group of men, watching as they hovered over an old map, perhaps trying to puzzle out where the remains of an old road led to. Apparently the work had piqued the curiosity of some wandering Elves as well, for a small group of them stood amongst the men, pointing in different directions, perhaps relying on their endless memory to instruct the Men as to what these ruins had looked like in times past.

Bird was thinking of landing closer and listening in on their discussion, when suddenly a flash of pain struck through her head: Bird...Come!

With a squawk the little skinchanger plunged the ground, landing in a puff of dust and feathers at the feet of the Men and Elves, shaking her head to rid it of the silent call.

The group burst out laughing at the sight of the little black and white crow hopping about on the ground in their midsts, which caused Birdie to blush red beneath her feathers. But one of the Elves peered sharply at Birdie, and with a small smile, said "Someone calls you changling. Stop your snooping and return to your master".

Bird did not understand Sindarian, and it was just as well, since the idea that Mithadan would be thought of as her "master" would have outraged her beyond measure. But she misliked the way the Elf gazed at her. It seemed his pierced her disquise as easily as Bombadil had. Gathering herself with as much dignity as she could muster, she leapt away from the group and circled high, heading back to the Shire.

By the end of the day, she had arrived back at the Green Dragon, and dived through the upstairs window to land in Pio's room, where Mith sat before a table and wine jug.

"Where have you been. I called for you hours ago."

Yes, and I curse the day that Pio taught you that infernal art. My head is still pounding. Well, I'm here. What do you want?"

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan offered her a glass of wine and a chair and waited as she relaxed for a moment. Then he relayed the news about Fosco and the decision which he and Piosenniel had reached. Bird's face turned bright red, and Mithadan, recalling another form which the shapeshifter could take, stepped back nervously.

"Are you insane?" exploded Bird. "No, I suppose that you are just the same fool that I've known all along. You can't leave Pio now! I won't have any part of this!"

"Fine," answered the Man calmly. "Then I'll go by myself." He made as if to stand but was halted by Bird. She placed a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes.

"You're serious," she said.

"You remember Fosco, don't you?" he responded.

"Aye," snapped Bird. "A brat if I've ever seen one."

"And when you were a child you were...what?" he queried.

She sighed and gritted her teeth. "All right," she said. "When do we leave?"

Mithadan handed her a bag and headed for the door...

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's Post:

Bird and Mithadan stepped through the backdoor of the Inn and headed east. When they passed the stables, Bird tugged at the Man's sleeve. "Aren't we taking your horse?" she asked. He shook his head. "Our appearance at our destination must befit our tale," he answered.

Bird shoved her hands in her pockets and hurried to follow Mithadan as he moved toward the Great East Road. "We could at least ride him partway," she grumbled. Mithadan laughed. "You've become too accustomed to your wings, but in this case, your feet will serve better."

It was midday when they reached the Three Farthing Stone. Many Hobbits had passed them by on the road, some hurrying by with a fearful glance and others favoring them with an openly hostile glare. "If we're supposed to be undertaking a clandestine task," she growled, "why are we staying out in the open where all can see us?"

"There are times when we should be seen and others when we should not," he answered. Bird's simmering annoyance overflowed at the ambiguous response. "Riddles?" she demanded. "Have you decided to take Angara's place on this journey?"

Mithadan swerved off the road and made towards the south. "We want angry Hobbits to report having seen us," he clarified. "We want to be searched for by dear Halfred and his lads. But we don't want to be found. Now we make our way to the Stock Road where we'll go east again in a more...clandestine fashion."


[ April 21, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ April 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Cami glared up at Piosenniel and implored, "What is happening? Whatever it is, you must stop it. I fear for your husband's life."

Pio clamped her thoughts down tightly once Cami had shown her the dream. She wanted none of her thoughts perceived by her friend. Her face was a study in detachment, though her mind reeled from the darkness of Cami’s dream.

‘I do not know where Mithadan is at the moment,’ she said calmly. ‘But when next I see him, I will tell him of your dream, Cami.’

Pio’s mouth formed a perfect smile, as she looked with concern at her friend. Her hand went to her swollen belly, the smile slowly moving to her eyes as she felt her son kick hard against her side. It faded once again as she glanced back up at Cami, and moved adroitly to change the subject.

‘See how he pushes against me!’ she said, placing Cami’s hand against the thumps of the baby’s feet and the flutters of what must be his tiny hands, as if in caress. ‘Strong, like his atar,’ she said, looking away for a moment, ‘and gentle, too.’

Pio reached her hand out to touch Cami. ‘And your son,’ she said low, ‘have you told his Father of him yet . . .?

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. "Not yet, not yet." She raised one hand and flipped her palm upward, as if tossing aside an unimportant detail that could be dealt with later.

To be truthful, Cami felt increasingly uncomfortable about her deception, but saw little alternative to secrecy. She knew Maura too well to think that her husband would be unaffected by what she would tell him. The balance they had achieved had come at great cost, and such a piece of news was sure to upset whatever peace of mind they had managed to wring out of the present situation, with its stipulation that they each return to their own time. Once again, Cami pushed Pio's words to the back of her mind, and told herself that she would deal with the problem later.

Neither did she feel comfortable with the tone and content of Pio's own response to her. She knew the Elf too well. Cami had no idea what secret her friend was hiding, but she was certain some dangerous plan was being hatched that Piosenniel and Mithadan had decided to keep secret. Cami knew that pressing and pleading would probably get her nowhere, but she resolved to do a bit of sleuthing on her own at the Inn to see if she could discover any hint of what was actually going on.

As she turned to go, she gave Pio a final piercing look, "Your twins are to be born in just a few days. Make sure Mithadan does not go rambling off on some errand away from the Inn. The Shire is too dangerous for him right now. It's not just the bandits. I truly wish I could tell you otherwise, but any hobbit who sees him could bcome frightened and take a swing with a pitchfork or shovel." With that, Cami left to go back to the kitchens and try to talk with Prim.

[ April 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

theWhiteLady's post

Rose’s hazel eyes shone with excitement, the tears of last night long forgotten. “That’s a terribly wicked idea, Gilly! I’m surprised that you would come up with something like that!”

Gilly dropped her eyes and began to mutter a reply, but Rose cut her off with a soft giggle.

“We’d better start packing! There isn’t much time to get ready.” Gilly’s face broke into a huge grin and the two young women began to eagerly plot their adventure. Packs were brought out and Rose wished furiously she had thought to sharpen her sword just one more time. She was just about to mention this aloud when a loud knock upon their bedroom door interrupted her thoughts. A wave of panic washed over her small body, leaving her first hot then horribly clammy.

“Quick!” she cried in a desperate whisper, her curly hair nodding nervously. “Hide the packs under here,” and thrusting her sword under the closest bed, she motioned to Gilly who had frozen guiltily next to her dresser. Gilly moved quickly but, in her haste, spilled the contents of her bag onto the floor. Rose groaned to herself and by the time the mess was cleaned and hidden, Rose was sure Cami would know something was up. Still, she tried her best to look perfectly innocent and moved to the door with what she hoped was a winsome smile

Child's post

Cami had gotten absolutely nowhere with Cook and Prim and Hob. It was not that they were hiding anything from her. They simply didn't seem to know about any wild plans hatched by Pio or Mithadan for the rescue of hobbit children. Cami had hinted here and there without actually divulging anything of importance, but she had sensed complete and unfeigned ignorance on their part.

"Gilly, where is she?" Cami queried after scrutinizing the recesses of the kitchen.

Cook responded with a casual toss of her hand. "Gilly was up late, taking care of Inn guests. She was supposed to clean the kitchen before she left, but that didn't quite get finished." At this point, Cook wriggled her nose and pointed distastefully towards a sinkful of dirty tankards and mugs that had been left for the morning crew to wash.

Prim piped in with an explanation, "I've given the girl the day off. She was working yesterday from dawn till midnight, so she's not expected here any time soon."

Armed with that piece of news, Cami hastily thanked the hobbits and scurried over to the chamber that her daughter shared with Gilly. Cami knocked insistently on the door. Inside she could hear two voices earnestly whispering to one another. Then, there was an inordinately long wait before either of the girls answered the door.

When Rose finally came to say hello, she had a sheepish grin on her face, as if she'd been doing something she'd rather not let her mother see. Cami walked in and sat down on the bed, casting a quick glance around the room, then continuing on to recite the tale of her dream. The two girls snuck a furtive, nervous look at one another as Cami spilled out her entire story.

Gilly shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, "It probably means nothing. I'm always dreaming of this and that, and nothing ever comes of it. Anyways, you're not an Elf, or even a Took or Baggins. Harfoot folk don't have true dreams like that."

Cami snapped back. "For your information, my mother was a Brockhouse. In any case, that's not important. What's important is that Mithadan stay here and be near his wife's side when she has her babes instead of gallavanting off into the woods somewhere."

Rose sat on the bed saying nothing. Unlike Gilly, she realized that Cami's dreams were a serious matter, and not to be shrugged off with a jest. Yet, Rose also sensed that, if she opened her mouth and confided their secret, she was likely to encounter stiff resistence from her mother. It was certain that Cami would insist that her daughter stay here and do nothing rather than slip off on a dangerous errand. Rose stared furiously at the floor and clamped her mouth shut, uncertain what to say.

As Cami's eyes searched the room for a second time, she caught side of Rose's travel pack stuffed hastily under her bed, with just one strap spilling out. Right next to the bag was Rose's sword, with its tip barely showing from under the coverlet that was draped off the bed. Cami's heart sank as she instinctively guessed what her daughter was proposing to do. Her instincts told her that, whatever danger Mithadan was facing, Rose and her young friend would not be far behind.

But what was the sense of saying anything or arguing with her? The girl had a mind of her own, and was sure to object. She was too old to discipline in the manner of a child. Cami knew that nothing she could say would dissuade Rose from her chosen task.

It was Gilly who finally broke the silence that had fallen between Cami and Rose....

[ April 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ April 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Gilly resisted the urge to snap back at Cami. She was, after all, her best friend’s mother, and Mistress Piosenniel’s closest friend. Instead, she stood up from Rose’s bed, stepped back, averting her eyes, and busied herself in making up her own bed. She managed a quick glance at Rose, who sat staring at the floor, saying nothing.

Cami spoke only briefly, then swept her mother-eyes about the room, missing nothing. Gilly’s pack sat innocently between the door and the tall dresser, her stout oak walking stick leaning against the door-jamb.

The silence in the room grew thick as the gravy in Cook’s rabbit stew. Gilly chafed under the tension. It prickled against her. She gave her shoulders a twitch as if to shake it from her, then stepped up near to Cami.

‘Begging your pardon, Mistress Cami, but we don’t know what Mistress Piosenniel and her Mister have planned. Whatever it is, it’s their own business, and they won’t be sharing it with the two of us.’ Her eyes slid over to Rose, then returned to Cami’s face. ‘With all due respect, it’s best you ask Mistress Piosenniel about her business.’

Gilly grabbed Rose’s hand, pulling her to her feet. The morning was wearing on, and they needed to be on their way if they were to catch up to Mithadan.

‘And now if you’ll excuse us, Rose has promised to go over some of the lessons she’s been giving in blade work with me and some of the locals . . .’

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

Child's post:

Cami did not believe a single thing Gilly was telling her. The girl's eyes were shadowed with deception, and her words rang hollow. Yet, the tone of her words reflected nothing evil, merely Gilly's boundless youthful determination to have her own way and avoid interference at any cost, especially interference by a parent.

Cami wondered if Gilly had left something unresolved behind her at home. But that was neither her business or concern. She focused intently on her own daughter. Rose kept her head down, unwilling to look up and meet her mother's eyes.

Cami understood she could put an end to all this by forbidding Rose from venturing out of the Inn. Her daughter might have grudgingly acceded to this demand. But Rose was no longer a child, and she deserved some measure of privacy and trust, even if she had her heart set on some madcap scheme.

If Pio had been forthright about where Mithadan was going, Cami might have turned back and confided in her. But Pio evidently had worries of her own, to say nothing of the birth of the twins that was slated to happen in just a few days.

With a heart burdened with worry, Cami forced herself to put her hand on the door and push outward, but then gave one last longing glance backwards over her shoulder. "Rose, be careful. Keep your sword with you at all times, even when you sleep. And may the Powers guide you on your path."

With that, Cami slammed the door behind her and stalked down the hall, glaring and speaking with no one. But inside, in her own head, she was carrying on a heated conversation. What have I done? If anything happens to Rose, I will never forgive myself....Secrets! I've had my fill of secrets. There are enough secrets floating around this Inn to last anyone a lifetime. With that, she headed back to her burrow, hoping to be able to speak with Maura.

[ April 21, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Cami walked away from her unsatisfied by her answer and uncomfortable with her question in return. There was nothing Pio could do about either, at least not at the moment.

Taking a jug of cool water from the kitchen and a glass, Pio returned to her quarters, and settled herself down in her chair by the window. Her map case lay on the floor beside it, and she picked it up, riffling through the parchments in it, looking for her quadrant maps of the Shire. Each Farthing had been divided into four sections, and each section lined with a fine grid of lines that divided it into discrete parcels.

When she had first come to the Inn, she had more time to wander about the countryside on ‘Falmar. They had ranged far and wide, riding the bounds and poking through the interior country of the Farthings. And everywhere she rode, each hillock, and gully, body of water, rocky outcropping, everything that caught her eye was meticulously placed on her gridded map sections.

She pulled out the maps that detailed Bywater and Hobbiton, and standing up, tacked them carefully on the wall. Next came the maps for the northern quadrants of the East Farthing, and the less detailed map that showed the country from Buckland to Bree-land. These, too, were tacked on the wall in proper orientation to each other. She studied them closely, moving her finger along the line of pursuit she might take if she were out hunting these Men.

Her belly bumped up against the wall as she moved in closer to look at some detail. She laughed, thinking how ludicrous it was for her even to be thinking about this. There was nothing she could do until the babies were born.

Cami’s dream images came back to her, sobering her mood. Pio sat back down in her chair, head leaning against the padded back of it, eyes closed. Mithadan should know about this dream, she thought to herself. Cami was frantic with worry about it. Pio’s mind quested out seeking his, and made a brief contact.

Cami fears for your life, Mithadan. She has had another dream.

Pio sent the dark images the Hobbit had given her.

You, in a black cloak, and Bird, though Bird is not clearly seen. Surrounded by evil Men who are suspicious of you, and one who draws a sword and holds the edge to your throat, then draws back his arm as if to strike.

Be heedful, beloved, and take care.

She opened her eyes, refocusing them on the ordinary, bright summer’s day scene outside her window, pushing away the shadowed images of Cami’s dreams. Her thoughts lingered on Mithadan and Bird, and the danger they rode into.

Mithadan’s earlier thoughts came back to haunt her. ‘Duty before desire,’ thought Pio to herself.It was an apt description of how he made his choices. She could see it now, picked out in silver against black on some imaginary banner of his House.

A shiver ran down her spine, though the day was already starting to heat up. She shut her eyes and sent out a silent plea.

By the grace of the Valar, let it not be his epitaph.

[ April 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

The two young women waited until they saw Cami leave the inn and stalk off. Gilly mouthed a ‘sorry’ at Rose and shrugged her shoulders. She threw a few more items into her pack and picking up her walking stick, motioned for Rose to head down the stairs with her.

‘Let me stop and tell Mistress Piosenniel that we are going out for blade practice and will be gone most of the day.’ Rose wondered if the folks at the inn might begin to worry about them and send for the Shiriff if they didn’t return that evening.’

Gilly thought for a moment, then answered. ‘Your mother seems to have an idea of our intentions anyway. Let’s just leave a note with Hob to be given to her and to Mistress Piosenniel late tomorrow. It’ll be too late for anyone to follow, and we don’t have to say where we’re bound, only that we’ve gone to offer our aid to Mister Mithadan.’

Rose sat in the sunshine on the bench next to the kitchen door, waiting for Gilly to return from Pio’s quarters. Her brow was wrinkled as she thought how best to word the note. She wanted to reassure her mother that she would keep herself safe, but she could already see her mother’s worried look when she read between the lines.

Gilly burst into Pio’s rooms with barely a knock, calling the Elf’s name. Pio had apparently stepped out as no one answered. She was about to turn and exit from the room when she saw the maps on the wall. Curious, she stepped closer. ‘I wonder if this is where he is going?’ she thought to herself, seeing the area from the Inn to Bree-land on display.

Her foot bumped against the sheaf of maps that lay on the floor at the base of the wall. Squatting down, she leafed through them quickly, her eyes widening with delight at one small, less detailed one that showed the Eastfarthing in its entirety and the lands beyond to the Last Bridge. She rolled it carefully and stuck it in the waistband of her breeches.

‘I’ll apologize to her when I get back,’ she promised herself. ‘But right now, we have the greater need of it.’

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

The note was duly delivered to Hob by the two of them. He looked at them curiously, but promised to follow their instructions. He wondered, too, at their request for ponies to take on their ‘errands’, but kept his peace and helped them to saddle and bridle their mounts.

And then they were off, down the path from the Inn until it met with the Great Road. Then, they turned their ponies east . . .

[Birdland]

The two travelers finally entered the shelter of a wood, which was good, especially since it afforded some relief from the afternoon sun.

But the woods bordered the slopes of the Green Hill Country, which was not so good. Mith strode up the sides of the rounded hills as if he were climbing the stairs at the Green Dragon; if he could have, he would have taken the hills two at a time, without stopping or breathing hard.

But he had to wait for his smaller companion, who was bitterly rueing the months she had spent on the wing. She had no breath for grumbling, but doggedly continued to climb, almost pulling herself up with her hands as they reached the top of the little mound.

Here Mith stopped for a moment, and Bird took the opportunity to plop down on a rock and catch her breath. She looked south where the smoke from the chimneys of Pincup lay, and was surprised to see to the west the shimmering outlines of the Mountains of the Moon. The Green Hills were higher than Bird had expected, and gave a fine view of all the countryside around. She was surprised that some wealthier Halfling had not build a fine smial at the top of this hill. "But then, I don't suppose there are too many hobbit folks who would appreciate such a view. Much rather not be reminded of the great world beyond the borders." she thought.

Then she realized that as clearly as the two could see all the Shire from here, so could all the Shire see them. Their silhouettes must be standing out clearly against the backdrop of the waning sun. "As it should be," said Mith, when Birdie pointed this out. "Hopefully if someone informs the Sherriff that we were seen in the Green Hills, they will think that we continued South. But now, if those seldom-used legs of yours have had enough rest, I think it is time to continue on."

Mith turned east, keeping to the edge of the wooded slopes, following some faint pony track. After a little while, Bird heard the trickling music of the Shirebourn, whose headwaters ran from the slopes of the Green Hills on its way to the Brandywine. Bird, sweating and itching from the slap of small branches, longed to turn off and plunge herself in its cool waters. But Mith, as if sensing her lagging steps, only handed her a warm water skin, and kept on.

"Will we be stopping in Woody End for the night, do you think, Mith?"

"We'll see," he said, without looking back or stopping.

" 'We'll see' ", grumbled Birdie under her breath. "That's as good as a 'no' with him". She sighed, wishing, (not for the last time) for wings, and trudged on.

[Auriel Haevasawen]

After many very unpleasant threats from Old Stoat, Fosco had been allowed some limited freedom in the cave-cum-room that was his cell. Ferny was out on some other business and the other men he had seen about the place were either outside or with him. Stoatie had no feelings for the boy, just pleasure in upsetting his erstwhile employer. He tethered the child like a gypsy pony and finally ungagged him.

"S'long as Ferny's out yer can wander on that young'un. Give me a ounce of trouble and I'll knock each of yer teeth out one by one, got that?"

"I'm not afraid of you, you stinking wretch. My Daddy'll come and roast the both of you!" Fosco shreiked and aimed a kick at the old villain.

"Well, I'm not paid to feed yer, so I'll be off then. I've other work do round here besides be a nursemaid to halfling vermin." He swore a oath beneath his breath and turned to leave.

"Oi, Stoatie, that is your name isn't it? Mr Ferny wouldn't want me to starve now would he? He said last night how important I was. He even said I needed a playmate."

"He also said yer needed yer ears boxed yer varmit." Stoatie snapped from the doorway.

"But I haven't had a thing to eat since last night."

"So, neither 'ave I. I've a good mind to gag yer again."

"If you do I'll bite yer finger off."

Stoatie half laughed, half coughed. "I'll leave that job to Ferny shall I then young'un?"

Fosco ran forward on his tether to reach Stoatie and inflict whatever childlike damage he could. He rope stopped him short and he was spreadeagled upon the stone floor. Old Stoat laughed heartily at the winded boy.

"If I gave you owt to eat young'un yer'd throw it in me face so yer would. No Ferny can have that honour as well. I've given yer more freedom than my old dog used to have and she was less likely to bite than you are." Old Stoat left the Hobbit child in the windowless room with no light except the lantern on the table. Fosco was unafraid of the dark. He walked round in a circle as far as this bondage would allow. Near the back wall and well within his little territory he came upon a pile of bags and sacks such as would be packed upon a pony. Fosco began to search them to find something to break his bonds but destroyed everything he could along the way. He was cold, hungry and beginning to get more than a little scared but Fosco Muddyfoot was made of sterner stuff than many an adult, nevermind a Hobbit child.

[piosenniel]

28 Nárië

‘I can’t believe you took that map without asking her!’ Rose rolled up her bedding bundle and lashed it to her pack. Gilly and she had gotten up just a few moments earlier, and after a brief look at the map Gilly ‘found’ in Pio’s rooms, they were up and almost on their way again.

‘She wasn’t there, and we were in a hurry!’ Gilly grinned back at Rose, her own bedding bundle already rolled up tight and secure, her pack once again lashed to her pony. ‘She should get the note we left today. She’ll figure out we needed the map.’ Rose rolled her eyes at her friend and placed her own pack back on the fat little pony that was her mount.

They had made good progress so far on their journey to find Mithadan and Bird. The two they sought were on foot and had been sighted by a number of the local citizens going east down the Great Road and then dipping south of it when they came to the Three-Farthing Stone. Sightings had been less frequent then, and at one point both the young women despaired of ever figuring out which way Mithadan and Bird had gone.

‘Well, we know they were heading east, and east is where this whole thing started.’ Gilly ran her finger from the Great Road south, stopping abruptly at a small line that ran through the area called Green Hill Country. ‘Look!’ she said to Rose. ‘Here’s some sort of passage through this hilly part that heads east. Let’s give it a try. If I were out on an adventure, it’s exactly the sort of less traveled way I’d take.’

Rose shook her head and laughed out loud. ‘You’ve never been on an adventure, Gilly! How do you know what you should do?!’

Gill looked chagrined, but only for a moment. ‘But I’m out on an adventure now, and this is what I think we should do.’ Rose shrugged her shoulders and urged her pony after Gilly’s.

‘Stock Road’ was the name of the path they came to. The name was painted on a weather-beaten sign, with a directional arrow beneath that pointed east and west. The mileage to Stock had once been on the sign, but the rain, snow, and bright sun had long ago erased it.

The two companions rode down the road a few miles, stopping the few Hobbits they passed to inquire about any suspicious looking Men they might have seen. But no one had.

‘Let’s get off the road,’ recommended Rose. ‘At some point they won’t want themselves to be seen and possibly stopped. Let’s go a little further south into the hilly country, and head east from there. See if we can pick up any clues to where they’ve camped. We should be able to catch up to them soon. Our ponies can travel faster than they can, I'm sure.’

Rose turned her pony off the dusty track and into the cover of the trees along the lower foothills, heading east once again. Gilly followed . .

[ April 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Child's post

Cami looked out across the pond and sighed. She had so little time left to be with Maura. All she wanted was for the two of them to go somewhere where they could share each other's company for whatever days or weeks remained. To journey far away from bandits and wayward daughters and confusing problems that seemed to have no real solutions.

Yet, they could not just pick up and disappear when there were still so problems in the Shire. She wasn't sure what she and Maura could do, but she couldn't imagine them turning their back on the situation without at least trying to help.

When Cami had awoken in the Inn many months before, she'd assumed the Shire was a safe and secure place, a homely refuge from all her cares and worries. Her initial assessment had obviously been wrong. Even the Shire could not shut out the real problems of the world.

A great many things at the Inn seemed to be spinning out of control. People were keeping too much hidden, not bothering to trust or confide in one another. Pio and Gilly and Rose.... Even Frodo had slunk past her earlier that morning, dropping his eyes to the ground and remaining strangely silent.

Cami glanced guiltily back inside the burrow. Maura was washing up the last of the luncheon plates and cups, with Holly playing nearby at his feet. He was so patient and caring, so obviously dedicated to herself and the children, and to the band of hobbits he'd met a short time ago. Her husband had not questioned the endless hours he'd spent cajoling Gamba out of one of his moods, patrolling the roads, or working with her daughter to train the Shirelings in defense. He had always been scrupulously honest with her.

Cami sidled up to where Maura was working. He turned and met her eyes with the slightest of smiles, then halted his work, waiting for her to speak. She placed her hand on top of his, looking up into his grey eyes, which seemed at that moment to be infinitely kind.

"We need to talk. There's something I must tell you.

Maura tossed the tea towel over the dishpan and walked over to the table, pulling out a chair for her and another for himself. He leaned back casually and stretched out his legs, resting his feet on top of the basket of firelogs. Then he stared intently over at Cami.

She was fluttering about inside her head, searching for the right words to explain about the baby and why she'd chosen to keep this secret so long. It was Maura who gently prodded her with a question, "This thing you need to discuss. Is it something about the bandits, or perhaps more personal than that?"

"Personal, definitely personal. Actually, it's not just me. It's the two of us."

A slight ghost of a smile began to spread over Maura's face. His eyes held a glint of sparkling silver, with an underlying hint of both amusement and approval. She looked up in surprise and bewilderment as realization dawned in her mind.

"You know! You already know. How long have you known, and how?"

"Cami, I was with my sister for the birth of both her children. You remember how we lived together in that tiny burrow, almost on top of one another. So I've had some experience with this."

"Plus, for the past few weeks, anyone with half a head might have guessed. Your stomach has been playng tricks on you every morning, and you've been poking at your food instead of eating it."

"Then, why didn't you say something, or ask me?"

"Because I knew you had a reason for your silence. And I suspected that reason had to do with the fact that we're not supposed to be together very long. And you knew how hard this would be on me. and how I would feel not even being able to help...."

At that point, his voice almost broke as he looked away and struggled for control. His voice took on a bitter edge.

"What hobbit father could step back from this situation and walk away to his own time, as if none of this ever happened?"

"Maura, stop. We have no choice. That's why I was afraid to tell you."

Their eyes met and locked for a single instant. One pair insistent, the other imploring. Then, they both dropped their gaze and carefully stepped back, afraid to cross the line or say anything more. Maura shook his head, "Alright, we won't talk about this now. But that won't change the way I feel."

At this moment, there was a knock on the open door, and the sound of shuffling feet. Hob coughed loudly, and peered inside, "Miz Cami, I've a note for you from your daughter."

Cami reached out to take the folded paper. It's alright Hob. We were just finishing. Come in for a bit of tea."

"Sorry, missus, but not now. I've another copy of the same note to deliver to Miss Pio."

Cami put her hand up to her head. She could virtually predict what the note was going to say. The real mystery at this point was not what Rose and Gilly were doing. The more serious question was how Pio would respond.

Maura looked over as Cami glanced over the note. "From Rose?" he queried.

She nodded yes. "It's what we discussed before."

"You're going to speak with Pio." It was not a question, but a statement. "If you need help, or someone to ride after them, Ban and I would be more than willing. He's an excellent tracker, and I'm not bad myself."

Cami thanked him and was about to leave, when he tugged one last time on her arm. "I didn't even have a chance to say this before. Whatever happen to you and me, I can't tell you how pleased I am about this child." Then he pulled her close to his chest and kissed her gently on top of her curls.

Pio's post

It was late afternoon, and a warm, lazy one at that. Cook had just left Pio’s rooms, leaving behind one of the tempting snacks she was forever supplying her favorite ‘project’. Thimbleberry tartlets, just the size for popping whole into one’s mouth and washing down with some cool milk. Pio sighed happily in her chair by the window, a small plate of the little gems perched on her belly, a mug of cold, foaming milk on the floor by her side.

It was practically a straight shot from her belly to her mouth sitting in this position, and before she knew it, half the little hillock of treats had disappeared. She coughed on a wayward crumb of crust and reached for the mug of milk, to wash the stray crumb down. Her hand slipped on the slick surface of the mug, made more slick by the moisture beading on it from the cold contents.

The mug slipped from her grip - the milk running out along the wooden floorboards. She sat upright, the plate of tartlets now crashing to the floor to join the spreading milk. A string of Umbrian invective rolled from her mouth in an obviously well practiced manner, as she snatched up her map case which had unfortunately been in the direct path of the white tide.

She took the maps out, sponging them off carefully and placed them over the back of the couch and across the tables and chairs to dry. ‘There is one missing,’ she thought to herself, frowning, as she tried to remember where and when she might have had it out.

Pio was cleaning up the mess, and pondering the riddle of the missing map of the East Farthing and beyond, when a soft knock came at her door. ‘Come in,’ she called. Hob appeared, a bemused look on his face at the sight of the ungainly figure on the floor, mopping up the last of the spill.

‘Here,’ she said, laughing at the look on his face, ‘help me up, if you would.’

Hob came near and offered her his strong arm. She hoisted herself to her feet, and stood brushing the mashed crumbs from one of the tartlets from her knees. ‘Nice to see you, Hob. Anything in particular you came to see me about, or is this a purely social visit?’

‘Well, Mistress Piosenniel. I’m thinking maybe I should have brought this to you earlier, but Miz Rose and Miz Gilly made it real clear that I was to deliver it to you today, and at this time.’ Hob handed the folded and sealed note to Pio and stepped back a little, giving her time to read it with a modicum of privacy.

‘Rose and Gilly? Why are they sending me a note? Are they not upstairs in their room, or at least somewhere in the inn? This is most strange!’ Pio opened the note and began to read.

‘Those little fools!’ She crumpled the short note in her fist, her grey eyes narrowing at the implications of what Rose had written. ‘They have no idea what they are doing or what they might encounter.’

Hob stepped forward, a look of concern on his face. ‘What’s happened? What have they done?’ he cried, a look of alarm spreading on his face.

‘Run and fetch Cami for me, Hob. She should know what they have done.’

‘But, Mistress, I just delivered a note into her hands before I ran here to give you yours. I didn’t stay to see her read it, but it was given to me by the two young ones yesterday, same as yours, same instructions.’

Pio sat down on the arm of her chair, rubbing her temples. ‘Why can nothing go smoothly!’ she muttered to herself. She looked up at Hob, fixing him in her gaze. ‘Go get Cami at once, Hob. I cannot fix this, so she must figure out how to do it.’

Hob turned on his heels and ran out the door, heading back to the burrows by The Pool . . .

[ April 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ April 23, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

By the time, Cami and Maura managed to pull apart, it was already the latter part of the afternoon. Cami ran a comb through her curls, then trundled off in the direction of the Inn. She soon ran into Hob. He'd been sent back to the pond by Pio over an hour before, but had managed to get waylaid by the Shirriff who had carted him off to the Lockholes for questioning as to the recent whereabouts of Mithadan and Bird. He had responded to those queries with only a few terse words and had finally managed to win his way free again.

The hobbit was panting from running back and forth and barely managed to stumble out a greeting. He quickly explained the purpose of his visit, "Miz Pio told me that she couldn't fix this mess and that I was to bring you back so you could figure out how to do it."

Cami's eyes widened with apprehension. Then she clutched her hands to her stomach and began to laugh. Not just a small delicate laugh, but an uproarious belly buster that didn't stop till ten minutes later when Hob picked her up from the ground.

So I'm to fix this mess? Neither my best friend or my daughter bothered telling me what's happening. So how can I possibly fix anything when I haven't even been told what's wrong? It's one thing making guesses, and another thing coming up with plans.

It was true that she and Maura could carefully track the girls and gallop across country as fast as they dared. But Rose and Gilly had enough of a head start that even Maura was unlikely to catch up with them. Maybe the best thing would be for Pio to speak mind-to-mind with Mithadan, as the two of them had done before in other urgent situations. That way, Mith would at least be apprised of the problem and keep an eye out for the girls, and chastise them as he saw fit.

And then another thought struck Cami. Her last wish had been that the Valar would guard over Rose's path. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. There were several rumors about the Inn as to where Lorien was spending his days and evenings. Cami didn't believe half of what was being said. Still, the Vala had certain advantages over everyone else. He should be able to locate the girls quickly and reach them in an instant. Maybe, like Bird, he could transform himself into another creature. or perhaps someone else could help him. Cami thought of Bilbo's story how the great Eagle had come down to carry them away. Something of that sort would also work.

Other than that, Cami was fresh out of ideas. She sighed and knocked on Pio's door wondering exactly what the Elf was expecting her to do.

[ April 24, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Frustrated by her inability to go after the two Hobbits herself, Pio sat in her chair, fuming. ‘Eriador be damned!’ she muttered out loud. She wished herself away from here . . . far away, and out on the open sea.

Her mood had not much improved when Cami came to see her. In fact, it darkened again, as she listened to Cami say how she really couldn’t see what could be done by her or Maura. Couldn’t Pio just contact Mithadan to let him know what was happening, she had asked. It was an innocent enough question, but it touched a nerve, and the Elf rounded on her.

‘And why should Mithadan have to contend with any more Hobbit problems. Or for that matter why should I? I am sick with worry that his children will never see him; that I will never see him again . . .’ Pio’s voice cracked, and she willed herself not to cry.

Cami, a look of horror on her face at the Elf’s words, stood stunned before her.

Collecting herself as best she could, Pio took her friend by the hand and bade her sit down in the empty chair next to her. She spoke to her of the conversation that she and Mithadan had had just before he left the Inn, and gave a bare outline of his plan to find the men responsible for the kidnappings. She was, she said, clinging on to the hope that all would work out well and that the problem would soon resolve.

But it was a thin thread that held up such hope, and it had snapped when she found out Gilly and Rose had gone after Mithadan and Bird in what seemed to her a dangerously foolish move.

‘I know they meant well,’ she said, her grey eyes gone dark. ‘But I swear that if they have put him in greater peril by their ill-thought actions, they will both pay a dire price for it.’ She regretted the words as soon as they left her lips.

Pio moved uncomfortably in her chair. She felt as if a giant band were tightening itself about her middle. Her breath was driven from her as the discomfort grew greater and then slowly relaxed.

‘I need to rest, I think.’ Face gone pale, Pio stood and saw Cami to the door. ‘Go home to your Maura, Cami, and to little Holly, and your son to be. Cherish them while you can . . .’

[ April 24, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan and Bird halted their journey late in the afternoon, long before they would have reached Woody End. They moved off the road to the north and settled into a little hollow hidden from sight by tall grass and a tree that overshadowed the road. There they rested and prepared a camp for the evening in a liesurely fashion.

Bird stood and returned to the road to seek out a brook that they had passed not long before. A few minutes later, she returned at a run and threw herself down in the hollow next to Mithadan. "I hear a pony or horse coming along the road behind," she panted. The two ducked down behind the tall grass and peered out at the road as the sound of hoofbeats approached...

[piosenniel]

It was cool under the trees, but not cool enough. The trees were packed close together along the road, their dense crowns arching over the narrow passage. No breeze penetrated, and the air was hot and still.

Gilly and Rose stripped down to shirtsleeves rolled as high as they could and breeches rolled above their dimpled knees, affording their limbs what little air there was from the ponies’ slow gait. Both were cranky from the sticky atmosphere and from the short rations they had put themselves on, since each thought the other had cadged food from Cook. Rose had just taken a linty half apple she’d found in her front pack pocket and offered to share it with Gilly, when both ponies stopped dead in their tracks.

‘Oh, bother!’ said Gilly, kicking her mount’s flanks in an effort to urge her on. ‘Don’t tell me these two want to share the apple, too!’

‘I don’t think it’s the apple,’ replied Rose, watching as her pony’s nostrils flared and she shook her mane vigorously.

As if by some prearranged signal, the two little horses turned off the path and picked their way determinedly through the underbrush. Both girls pulled on the reins in an effort to stop them. But it no use. The ponies had a mind to get somewhere in particular. Taking the bit in their teeth they plunged on, uncaring that their path through the underbrush scratched and bruised the bared legs of their riders.

When they did finally come to a halt, breaking through the tangles of bush and tall grass, it was a sudden stop. The riders, by this time sitting cross legged on the saddles to avoid more scratches, lost their balance and tumbled ungracefully into the water of a brook as the ponies bent their necks down to drink greedily from it.

Rose and Gilly sat up, spluttering in the midst of the cool water, angry looks on their faces. Gilly glared at her pony, who wandered away from the bank to graze on the tips of the tall sweet grass, unconcerned that her rider was wet and smeared with mud.

Gilly stood up, to clamber back on the bank and was hit on the back by some soft missile. Turning she saw Rose bent double laughing, another ball of mud in her hand. Rose looked up with an impish look in her eyes.

‘We’re hot,' she said, laughing. 'The water’s nice and cool. Let’s let the ponies eat and rest. We can catch up to Bird and Mithadan soon. They can’t be that far ahead of us.’ She looked at Gilly beseechingly. ‘Come on, Gilly. There’s no one around to bother us. Let’s have some fun!’

Gilly grinned, and scooped up a mudball of her own . . .

[Mithadan]

The wind whispered through the tall grass as Mithadan and Bird waited for the arrival of the horse and its rider. Suddenly, the sound of hoofs clopping on the path was silenced and no further noise could be heard. When several tense minutes had passed, Mithadan turned to Bird and said, "The rider has either halted or left the path. We must find out where he is. Could you...?" He glanced skyward.

Without a word, the petite woman melted away to be replaced by a jackadaw. The bird hopped down into the hollow, spread its wings and took to the sky. After wheeling overhead, it proceeded off to the west.

Mithadan rolled onto his back and drew his sword. Then he arranged himself in a crouch while he awaited Bird's return. He did not have to wait long. In a matter of minutes, the black and white bird returned and changed back into a woman. She stood, shaking her head, then spoke. "You will not like this," she said. "Its Rose and her friend Gilly. They've followed us."

Mithadan uttered a colorful but vile imprecation concerning the social habits of Orcs. Bird stepped back in shock. "Take care," she quipped. "Another such curse and you'll wilt the grass and destroy our hiding place."

He stood and brushed off his clothes. With a wry grin and a wink, he said, "I am a sailor, after all." She pursed her lips in disapproval. "I wouldn't wish that even on an Orc."

The two made their toward the Hobbits, avoiding the road and sticking to the underbrush. After a moment, they could hear the sound of splashing and laughing. Mithadan scowled and shook his head in annoyance. Then he stepped forward toward the brook, only to be struck in the face by a flying dollop of mud. His next curse did wilt the grass and stunned a nearby squirrel as well.

[piosenniel]

Gilly’s mouth dropped open and she gasped as the imprecation rebounded off the trees that lined the brook’s edge. She wiped mud, from the hand that had just flung the missile, on the thigh of her breeches and backed up cautiously to where Rose stood. Keeping both eyes on the mud spattered man, she whispered to her friend. ‘This doesn’t bode well for a good start, does it? I doubt he’ll take kindly now to our wanting to help him out, now, will he.’

‘Will he?’ Gilly repeated. ‘Rose?!’ Gilly turned her head slightly to the left to see what had stopped her friend from speaking. Rose’s face was lined with a smile of pure impish delight. In her hand was a large globule of thick brook sludge.

‘We have you at our mercy now, Man!’ Gilly heard her friend call out.

‘Rose! No!’ Gilly watched in horror as Rose launched the muddy orb . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami instinctively sensed that Pio had called her to the Inn with no real intention of talking with her. She had been mistaken to think that the Elf might find her ideas at all important. She was to be used as no more than a small and convenient target for her friend’s anger.

Cami forced back her initial outrage, standing mutely in the room with her eyes hollow and face blank, her feelings trained to cold indifference. Her folk were very good at that, living in a world where everyone was bigger than they were. Over thousands of years, they’d learned that sometimes the best choice was simply to withdraw and be alone, going silently about your own business and disregarding what the big ones said or did. Behind the new laws prohibiting Men in the Shire, this single reality stood starkly apparent. Old habits and ways died hard. Cami had used that tactic often enough in Gondor. In fact, she was quite good at it. The old walls went clicking back in place.

Ironically, it was not what Pio had said in anger that left its mark. No hobbit had begged Mithadan to go running off to the bandit’s lair or even to come to the Shire. If he and Pio felt a sense of duty that compelled them to make such choices, that was their decision, not her own, or any of the other hobbits who lived nearby.

The part that hurt a little was hearing Pio’s fears about Mithadan. Pio was afraid that her husband might leave and she and her newborn children would never see him again. A justifiable fear given the danger of the situation that Mithadan faced. Yet it was far more than a fear to Cami. It was the central reality of her life. To know that she and Maura had no future, to be certain that her child would never see or know his father. Beside that, Pio’s fears somehow seemed remote.

To cherish meekly whatever time she had left.... No, she could not do that any longer. Maura had been right. As she headed down the corridor and made her silent way towards the back of the Inn, she tried to shake off her own sense of futility, but found it nearly impossible. Cutting across the courtyard, Cami stopped for a moment at the rusted gate, leaning back to stare upward into the black skies of night.

A deep melancholy and sadness gripped her heart that could not wholly be explained by the events of the day, as upsetting as these were. She could see the outline of the trusty Plough, yet its familiarity brought no peace or comfort. The stars stood in their usual position to mark the days of midsummer, that month which the hobbits called Forlithe and the Elves Narie.

There was so little time. She had obediently bowed her head to the dictates of Gandalf and the Valar, but that was before she had brought Rose, Gamba, and Holly into her home. Now there was another child on the way. Everything seemed bleak and overwhelming. Her body shivered, although the night air was hot, and no breeze blew.

She hurried forward, having at last reached a decision. Maura was indeed right. They would leave this place and go off on their own, away from bandits and well-meaning friends who struck out with little warning. They would go quietly to Tukborough where there'd been no talk or sign of bandits, and finally get a well deserved rest. And when it was time for them to leave the Shire, they would go together to whichever age they decided would be the best to make their new home.

Cami instinctively sensed that this was not an idle threat but a real possibility. The Valar could not force them to live apart without their active consent. She was tired of cooperating, tired of being manipulated, and she no longer cared about the consequences of her choice. This whole thing was too hard for her to comprehend. Let them get some Elf or Man or Ainur to repair the damages to the fabric of Time. Surely, they could find someone who wanted to be a hero. She and Maura had no desire to play that role. They only wanted to have a life and family together. That was not such a terrible thing.

Cami ran as fast as she could towards the small burrow near the water's edge, and slipped noiselessly into Maura's arms. With little warning, she burst into tears. He held her softly to his heart. Two sailors adrift on the winds of time without a true port to call their own. The two of them spoke softly to each other, sharing their hopes and plans, and resolved that they would keep their family together when it was time to leave the Shire, whatever anyone else might say. Maura also agreed more reluctantly to Cami's plan that they start out the very next morning for Tukborough as soon as it was light.

[ April 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Mithadan]

The second handful of mud struck Mithadan square on the forehead, sending streams of muck into his eyes and through his hair. He gasped, then calmly wiped the filth from his face. With measured motions, he laid his sword on the ground, then undid his belt and dropped it as well, along with an additional sheath that was tucked into his boot. "Mith..." said Bird with concern, but the Man ignored her and stepped forward.

Rose had scooped up another handful of mud, and as her target approached, let it fly. Mithadan stepped aside adroitly and the missile flew by. A curse from behind him suggested that it had nonetheless found a mark, but even as Bird cried out, Mithadan leapt forward into the water with a roar, seized the two Hobbits, one under each arm, and pulled them to the banks of the stream. He set them down none too gently and scowled at the lasses. Gilly cringed, but Rose stood her ground with chin held high.

"What do you think you're doing?" he spluttered. "Why are you following us?"

"I might ask the same of you," answered Rose. "What are you doing, leaving your wife behind when she is about to go into labor? You will come back with us or we will tag along with you, scolding you for your poor judgment."

Mithadan's face turned red and Bird was concerned that the veins which stood out on his neck would pop. "It is you who will be returning to the Inn," he cried. "You know nothing of my errand or its gravity."

"We do know," Gilly blurted out. "I heard your conversation with Pio in the common room. You're going to Bree to look for the kidnappers, but you should be with Piosenniel!"

"Don't you think I want to be?" shouted Mithadan in anguish. "Don't you think that I want to be with Pio as our children are born? But to do so is to consign the victims of the kidnappers to captivity or worse! Shall I allow your precious Shirriff to do this task? Halfred the half-wit? He cannot. Only a Man might gain the confidence of these rogues and Bird and I are the only ones of our race about who care enough about you and your people to do this!"

Bird cleared her throat. "Actually, technically speaking, I am not..." Mithadan interrupted her , his voice taking on a hard edge. "All you are doing, by following us is placing us at risk. If the kidnappers were to see us together they would never trust us. If you arrived in Bree and asked for us it might mean our deaths. Go back! You, Gilly, are supposed to be caring for Pio and the babes. How will you do so from miles away? You also have abandoned Pio. Get on your ponies and return to the Inn!"

[piosenniel]

Gilly stepped nearer Rose, her eyes wide. Taking her cue from her friend, she blinked back tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. Mithadan had frightened her with the intensity of his anger. Her lower lip quivered, but she pushed her chin out in an attitude of defiance and looked him straight in the face.

‘I haven’t abandoned Mistress Piosenniel or the babies. I’m looking out for them right now. It’s you they need, not me.’ She stepped toward, him her voice a little firmer. ‘Begging your pardon, Mister Mithadan, but we Hobbits aren’t as helpless as you Big Folk seem to think. We can take care of ourselves, in our own way. And as for ‘allowing’ Shiriff Halfred to handle this task – well, I don’t really think that’s up to you, is it? After all he’s our Shiriff and we all know his limits. We would never think he could handle this all on his own, so we’ll all help him out to see it done.’

She looked up at him gauging the effect of her words on him. Taking courage from the fact that he had not yelled at her again, she stepped forward and touched him lightly on his sleeve, ‘Perhaps I don’t understand because I’m not one of the Big Folk, and maybe I don’t see the larger picture that you and Mistress Piosenniel do, but when you say you and Miz Bird are the only ones of your race who care enough about us to place yourselves in danger and help us, I wonder why you think we would want you to abandon your own family to do this. Not that I’m ungrateful that you would offer your help, but you didn’t ask if we needed you to do this for us, and at such cost.

‘It seems to me you place them in danger by being away from them. You’ve left them unprotected from the threat of ruffians in the Shire. Left them to the protection of the Shiriff you so dislike. Surely Mistress Piosenniel cannot be expected to take up her sword and defend herself and her babies alone. I know Mistress Piosenniel is depending on me, and I’ll go back, to be with her. But you should be there, too, Mister Mithadan.’

Gilly stepped away from him and finding Rose’s hand, gripped it tightly. Mithadan was very quiet, and she was grateful he had not lashed out at her again. A light evening breeze had sprung up and the two Hobbits huddled together, shivering.

‘He can’t expect us to turn around and head back to the Inn in the dark, can he? whispered Gilly to her friend . . .

[Mithadan]

Mithadan sat heavily down on the ground beside the stream and flicked absentmindedly at some dirt which had clung to his breeches. He rubbed his eyes tiredly then looked longingly back at the road which led towards the west. Bird placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze, then shook her head when he looked up at the touch.

"Pio and I have discussed this," he said quietly. "This is not my choice alone. She wants me to do this as well. We do not belong in the Shire and I can do nothing to help while I am there; your people do not trust me. The danger is equal if I stay or if I go that these bandits may kidnap another child or even assail the Inn. So I choose the course I have taken."

He turned to Gilly with a hint of a smile on his lips. "But you are needed at the Inn," he continued. "You must help care for the twins. And Rose, you should be with Cami to share in her joy and to support her in the weeks to come, for her happiness is bittersweet."

Rose looked over to Gilly who seemed now resigned that she must return to the Inn. Then she looked back to Mithadan and raised her chin in defiance. "I am no longer a tween that I must rely on Cami to make my choices," she answered. "And I have made my decision as well..."

[piosenniel]

theWhiteLady's post


Rose looked over at her new friend, who had also become her constant companion. She felt a pang of guilt, hoping Gilly would understand her decision and as Rose spoke, she could feel the blood rushing to her face and her eyes burning with an frustrated passion. “With all due respect, I feel my place is with you and Bird. Cami’s got her short time to spend with Maura, and Pio has plenty of capable help at the inn. Surely I wasn’t brought all this way, from my home and through time, just to sit around and watch things happen! My kinfolk are being threatened in the worst way and I cannot - I will not - sit passively by while this happens. Mister Mithadan, I know you feel it your duty to help the people of the Shire, even when it takes you away from Miss Pio when she needs you most. Well, I feel the same. My duty is right here: to do what I can to help Bird and yourself, and maybe I’ll be of some small use in the end. Whether or no, you can order me back all you want, but the only way I’m going is if you truss me up to Gilly’s pony.”
Rose’s plump lower lip trembled but her hazel eyes gazed steadily at the tall man’s face before her. For what seemed like several minutes to the passionate, young hobbit, Mithadan simply looked back; only the plaintive call of a bobwhite broke the silence and Rose was just beginning to lose her last hope when Mithadan’s face broke into a assenting, though not thoroughly happy, smile.
“All right, I know when I’ve met a will as determined and stubborn as my own. You may come.”

Rose felt a rush of relief run through her like an electric shock but she forced herself to make a small curtsy before giving Gilly a gigantic hug, sad that she must part from her friend but excited to once again be on an adventure.

[ April 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

29 Nárië - note new day

Cami scurried about the burrow, packing up the few belongings that she and Maura had brought with them, or managed to acquire during their stay. Her husband hurried over to the Inn, rummaging through the supply closets and filling his bag with nuts and cheese and journey bread that could be easily carried on the road. He'd borrowed a mount from Samwise, with the promise that they'd leave it with Pippin, if anything prevented them from returning to the Inn.

They had decided to strap their supplies onto the pony's back, and walk alongside him, since they were in no rush to reach a particular destination. Much to Holly's delight, Maura set the small girl up on the pony, keeping a hand on her back. Just before setting out on the road, he glanced over towards Cami. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course, I'm sure." she quickly retorted. "Remember last night."

Maura shook his head, "We definitely decided to keep our family together when it's time to leave the Shire. But I'm not certain about this. Cami, Piosenniel is going to have her babies in a few day's time. Do you really think you should leave now?"

Cami hastily averted her eyes. "I'm sure Pio will manage without me. She's extremely well organized."

"I wasn't thinking about organization," Maura persisted. "She's your friend."

Cami stared stubbornly ahead, and tersely responded, "I don't want to discuss this."

"Have it your way then. I did talk to Gamba and Ban, to let them know we'll be gone for a bit."

They continued along in silence. Despite her initial resolve to remain miserable, Cami found her spirits unexpectedly rising as they trudged along the road. The day was beautiful, cool and crisp, under a broad blue sky and a bright golden morning sun. They stopped once or twice to look at a coloful field of flowers or show Holly some rabbits scampering away, their small puff tails sticking up for an instant as they disappeared headfirst down secret holes.

It did not take long until they cut south across the Great East Road and left the main path, veering to the West. Cami was so engrossed watching the birds and animals and trees that it took her a moment to realize exactly where they were.

"Maura, stop! This isn't the path to Tukborough. I know this area well."

He smiled, but confided nothing more and kept going on until they arrived at a shady grove, a delightful nook with a small lake and flowering vines intertwined below a cool green hill. He lifted Holly off the pony's back. "We'll stop here for the night."

Cami looked up with surprise. "But we've only been on the road three hours. It's barely mid-morning."

"It's pretty though, don't you think?" She looked around. It was indeed pretty, extraordinarily pretty, even for the Shire. She laid down amid the tall grass, listening to the intermittent lull of bees and crickets. She found herself nodding off, since she'd had very little rest the night before. Waking up a little later, she heard the sound of a pony cart approaching, as its wheels slipped in and out of the ruts, making its careful journey along the meadow.

"Maura, what's that?" She looked up puzzled at her husband, but he seemed very relaxed as if he had been expecting this arrival for some time.

[ April 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

29 Nárië

Halfred mopped his brow with his red bandana, and loosened the collar of his shirt. It was only midmorning, and already the sun was glaring down balefully. Waves of shimmering false water played across the roadway in the distance, and Halfred could feel his face growing red, his nose blistering.

Dumpling, his faithful pony, clopped along slowly, head down, ever so often casting a wistful glance toward the shade under the trees set back from the road side. Halfred himself had half a mind to head off under the trees. His dear wife had packed him a snack to tide him over until lunch, and he longed to sit in the cool grass, his back against some smooth barked tree, and enjoy the savory offerings.

Instead, he sighed, steeling himself against temptation, and gave a little kick to Dumpling’s flanks, urging him on. Today was the day he would clear that one item from his list that he had put off. It was time for another try at questioning the Big Folk at the Inn.

Hob came out to take the reins as Halfred dismounted. ‘Have you seen Mister Mithadan?’ he asked the quickly retreating stabler.

‘Can’t say as I have,’ came the fading reply as Hob took the pony into the stable.

Halfred wiped his brow one last time and stuffed the damp cloth in his back breeches pocket. Slowly he climbed the steps and pushed open the door to the Common Room. Ah! There was Prim, standing by the bar giving some last minute instructions it looked like to Buttercup, who deftly balanced a tray of pints on one hand, while shaking her head yes and no as Prim talked.

‘Think I could get one of those?’ he said, sidling up to the bar and standing near the two.

‘Depends,’ said Prim, hands on her hips, a steely gaze in her eyes. ‘You’ve not come to bother Mistress Piosenniel, have you?’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami watched intently as the cart pulled into view, revealing two familiar faces. Much to her surprise, she saw Frodo Baggins perched up front, with Bilbo lounging behind him on a soft pile of hay. Beside the older hobbit sat a wicker basket filled with all type of hobbit delicacies, ample food for a leisurely picnic on a warm summer's day.

Cami turned and rounded on her husband, "Maura Took! You rascal! You set this up."

Maura shrugged his shoulders and laughed, "You already had me traipsing out in the middle of the night to get Sam's pony. So I stopped at the Inn, and talked with Frodo."

"We both wanted some time away, so we agreed to meet here. They'll return later today. We'll stay on till morning. Then, you decide, Cami. If you want to continue, we'll head south to Tukborough. If not, we'll retrace our steps."

"You thought my decision hasty?" A slight smile played on Cami's face.

Maura's voice came back, half playful and half serious. "Pio's not the only one with a hot head. But I thought we could both use a break from the constant worry of the Inn."

For the next several hours, the hobbits' only concern was relaxation. They ate, reminisced about old times, and went paddling or wading in the cool waters of the lake. Maura managed to rig up a fishing pole and caught several trout that Cami cleaned and roasted over the fire. Towards mid afternoon, Maura drove Holly and Bilbo in the cart over to a grove of wild cherries that were located not far from where they had camped. The hobbits promised to bring back a bag or two of fruit that could be taken to Cook and made into pies.

Cami and Frodo stayed behind to clean up the remains of lunch. Finishing their chores, they'd walked down to the water. Frodo sat quietly on the shore, tossing small pebbles into the lake and watching the rings ripple out in concentric circles. His eyes looked longingly towards the water.

"You miss it, don't you? The Sea, I mean" Cami looked across the lake, a tiny body of water but the largest she'd seen since coming to the Shire. "I do too, Frodo. I miss it. Somehow things seemed simpler then. At least we knew what we had to do." She pulled the words out with difficulty, remembering the voyage of the Star, and how she'd been so determined to find the lost sea hobbits and some traces of her people's own history. She recalled Maura's own home, the lonely isle of Tol Fuin, and the hobbits' first joyous arrival there. Now, nothing seemed as certain as that.

Her confused thoughts must have communicated to Frodo, for he looked up and smiled at her. "So here both of us sit in the middle of the Shire trying to make sense out of this and wondering where we belong."

He sighed and lowered his voice, "I've heard what they're saying on the streets. How none of this happened until I returned. How Saruman's come back to plague us, and how all the bandits would stop if only I'd go away."

Cami stared at him aghast, "But, surely, you don't believe that nonsense."

"I'm not certain. There's some truth in it, but something's missing. Maybe I'll figure it out later."

Suddenly, he looked her squarely in the face. You, I, and Maura, the three of us.... We're in Hobbiton for a reason. And when I figure out that reason, I'm going to step forward and do my part, whatever that might be."

Cami said nothing. She felt like a child beside his wisdom and certainty.

Then he prodded again, "What about you?"

She looked at him with confusion in her eyes. "I'm happy you can see that. But the part about Maura and I being here for a reason, I don't understand. The marriage, what Bilbo set up, that's one thing. But now there's this." She put her hands protectively to her belly.

"The baby?" Frodo nodded and smiled. "Yes, Maura told us about the child."

She sighed and then continued. "I probably shouldn't have left Hobbiton. It was an impulse. I was just tired of problems and wanted to put them behind me. It's not Pio's fault. She has enough on her mind."

"But the other.... That's different. We've lived with separation so long, Maura and I. Why should we be blessed with a child, simply to be ripped apart again? Why should Gamba begin to confide in Maura, when he'll only have to face separation and disapointment one more time? It's not fair. Whatever the Valar have in mind, I want no part of it. What do you think we should do?"

Frodo thought a minute and then responded, "Only the two of you can find that answer together. But, perhaps, there is something more. Something beyond a wedding ceremony or even the birth of a child." He thought of Bilbo's resolve to go beyond the circles of the world and the strange look of determination in his uncle's face. "Keep searching, Cami. The two of you. But you can't do it here." He glanced around the shady grove with all its beauty and seclusion. "You have to go back to Hobbiton, to return to its problems and frustrations, to be with the people you love even when they get upset. I'm certain of that."

He hesitated a moment and then plunged in again, "You know Bilbo's not going to be around forever, and he worries about both of you."

"I know," Cami responded. "And you're right. I can't be with Bilbo out here in the middle of the forest. And I owe him more respect and time than I've given him lately."

"So it's back to Hobbiton?" Frodo asked.

"Yes, in the morning."

With that, their conversation ended. The cart with Maura and the others had come lumbering back into camp, and there were bags of sweet cherries to be washed and eaten.

[ April 27, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

To be honest, Halfred did not want to talk to any of the Big Folk. The Elf seemed scornful of him in his previous encounters with her, and on the verge of menacing, in fact. And as for the Man, he seemed dangerous, too, in his own way. The Shiriff sat at the table in the Inn that Prim had led him to, and sipped thoughtfully at his ale.

All he needed to know, really, was whether the Man had been out of the Inn at the time of the kidnapping of Angelica’s son. He drummed his fingers on the table, considering who might have this information. Halfred raised his hand and waved Prim over to him. If anyone would know it would be her or Cook. A few words with Prim and the two of them were soon heading to the kitchen to speak with Cook.

Two half pints later, and a plate filled with bread and cheese, mustard and thick sliced ham, and Halfred was satisfied that, indeed, Mister Mithadan had never left the confines of the Inn.

‘In fact,’ said Cook, serving him up a generous wedge of Shire apple pie with clotted cream to fill in the empty corners, ‘Mister Mithadan has been quite ill and practically bed bound all this time.’

‘Perhaps I should just check in on him then,’ said Halfred, rising from his chair.

‘Oh, now I wouldn’t be doing that, Shiriff!’ Prim tugged hard on his sleeve until he was once again seated. ‘He has some horrid spots on him. All over him. Itchy, too!’

‘And a terrible fever – been nigh burnt up by it,’ commented Cook, pouring Halfred a frosty glass of hard cider to wash down the last crumbs from the pie.

‘Oh, and don’t leave out that phlegmy cough of his. Poor man can hardly breathe for it all.’ Prim bowed her head and shook it sadly. A moment later she had her hanky out and was coughing into it vigorously.

Halfred drew back from her, wondering if the contagion was spreading. His eyes strayed to Cook, who stood by the hearth scratching herself on the back energetically with a long wooden stirring spoon. He felt his temperature rising, he was sure, and a tickle began to nag at the back of his throat.

The stout Hobbit stood up quickly, knocking over his chair. It clattered on the floor, and Prim rose to help him set it upright. Halfred backed away quickly as she approached, and in doing so bumprd into Cook. He began to feel a certain prickly sensation creep up and down his limbs, as if litlle bumps were just on the verge of popping up. Halfred checked his forearms quickly, and heaved a sigh of relief when he found no spots appearing.

Gathering up what dignity he could muster in his hasty retreat, he bowed quickly to the obviously afflicted women, and raced out the door and to the stable, saying he wished them well.

Hob came into the kitchen a few moments after seeing the sheriff off, only to find Cook and Prim doubled over with laughter. Once they had caught their breaths, they told him what had happened, and he joined in the merriment at the poor Hobbit’s expense.

‘Serves him right,’ said Cook, ‘thinking that Miz Pio and her Mister would have anything to do with this bad business of the kidnappings. He needs to turn his eyes elsewhere and find the real kidnappers, he does! Halfred’s a fool if he thinks he’ll find the culprits here in the Inn. Our little joke, though, should keep him away for a while!’

The sound of their merriment masked the soft footfalls that drew near.

‘Keep who away?’ came the quiet voice.

[piosenniel]

‘Who was that you were talking about?’ repeated Piosenniel, pulling back a chair at the kitchen table. Hob had risen when she sat down, and pouring her a cup of tea from the pot keeping warm on the hearth, placed it by her hand. She smiled up at him, then glanced round the table. ‘Well . . .?’ she asked again, taking a sip of the sweet brew.

‘Now Miz Pio,’ answered Cook, passing her the plate of cookies from the sideboard, ‘no need to concern yourself with Inn business any more. Prim took care of it just fine, didn’t you.’

Prim nodded her head in agreement. ‘It was just some pesky tradesman with something we didn’t need. Cook and I sent him on his way. I doubt he’ll be back soon.’

Piosenniel frowned at the look that passed between the two Hobbits, but let it pass. She set her cup down clumsily on the table as a wave of pain gripped her round the middle. It surprised her with its intensity and she was glad when it retreated.

She looked up from it, to find Prim looking at her with concern, while Cook nodded her head up and down as if she expected something like this might be an expected occurrence. ‘Been having them long, dearie?’ she asked in a kindly tone, watching Pio’s hands unclench and her face smooth out once again.

‘This is only the second one today. In fact the first one is why I came out to see you. What can you tell me of these pains, and what comes after them. What can I expect and when. It will help me plan for it.’

‘Plan for it!’ Cook chortled at the thought of planning for something that followed its own course at its own time. But there was Miz Pio leaning forward, her elbows resting on the table, waiting for an answer. Cook sighed, and collected her thoughts. She laughed again. Here she was, a simple Hobbit, instructing an Elf on something. The thought tickled her no end.

‘All right, Miz Pio, now listen closely, and stop me any time you need to . . .’

Cook launched into her lesson on the ways of childbirth, as Pio sat taking in every word. Her eyes growing wide at some of the details and examples that Cook gave to emphasize certain points.

‘You sure you want to be here, Hob?’ asked Prim. Hob said he’d helped with many a foaling, and his sisters had all had babies so he knew some of the details. But he and Minta hoped to have a family soon, and he might as well know all of what was to happen.

‘Suit yourself,’ said Prim, getting up to make a fresh pot of tea and heap the cookie plate once again. This could last quite a while, she thought to herself. Settling herself down, cookie in hand, she listened closely to what Cook was telling the Elf, throwing out every so often a fact or story of her own.

[piosenniel]

29 Nárië

Morning came early for the two Hobbits. Before the sun’s light peeked through the trunks of the trees surrounding their encampment, Mithadan and Bird were already up and speaking of their plans for the day. Mithadan was eager to be off. The sooner Bree was reached, the sooner this task could be finished.

Gilly raised up on one elbow from the depths of her bedroll, hoping to hear some sort of fire crackling nearby and the smell of breakfast or at least hot tea. But all that came to her were the low voices of the two Big Folk in the predawn silence.

‘Wake up, Rose,’ she whispered to her friend, reaching out a hand to poke the blanket-covered lump that lay next to her. ‘The others are up already, and you’ld better get up, too, before Mister Mithadan decides to go on and leave you here with me to go back to the Shire.’

The muffled grumblings of someone pulling themselves up from the comforts of sleep issued from beneath the blankets, followed by the tousled curls and then the head of Rose. She yawned, and sat up, throwing back the blankets.

Bird motioned them over to where she and Mithadan sat. Way-bread and some dried fruit were handed round, followed by a skin of brook water to wash it down. ‘Best get your bedrolls squared away as soon as you’re finished,’ said Mithadan, pulling his pack toward him. ‘We’ll leave when you do.’ He fished around in the side pocket of the pack, and grunted in affirmation when his hand found what it sought.

‘Gilly, here is a small knife for you to use. And here is a bit of food.’ He handed her a small packet of bread and fruit and a few nuts. ‘It’s all that we can spare. You did bring a skin for water, did you not.’ He grinned when she shook her head ‘yes’. ‘Well, at least you two were somewhat prepared.’

Rose and Gilly sat together quietly and hurried through their meager rations. Mithadan had loaded the ponies by the time they had finished, while Bird went to scout the way ahead.

Breakfast done, Rose fastened Gilly’s cloak for her and gave her friend a farewell hug. ‘Keep safe, Gilly. I’ll see you when I return.’ Gilly returned the embrace, saying, ‘And you stay safe, too, Rose. I’ll tell the twins you’ll come soon to see them.’

Mithadan held the reins of Gilly’s pony for her as she mounted. ‘Tell Piosenniel I will return soon to her and our children. Be watchful and cautious, Gilly.’ He handed her the reins, slapping the pony smartly on its hindquarters.

He watched her for a moment as she headed west; then turned, and without a further look back, headed east once again . . .

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Old Stoat sat smoking on a grassy bank some distance from the hovel they had made their camp. Ferny and others had come and gone over the past day or so leaving him to mind the children.

He was no sitter for babies and left them much to their own devices, occasionally hurling food in their general direction, much in the style of a pig farmer with a sty of particularly bad-tempered pigs. He had put all the hobbit children together in the same room as Fosco that morn, not to give the trying child company. Stoatie was as weary of the child and the regularly assaulted Ferny but just to make his own job easier. He was tired of doing his rounds to check on them so by putting them all together in one room he need only leave one tray of food then leave them while he busied himself stealing from the other men or smoking in the sunshine.

At that particular moment he was not merely smoking. He had set himself a little snare for a cony and was waiting patiently as she approached the cabbage leaves he had set his trap with. Stoatie watched, still and silent as his dinner approached. The young rabbit stepped within the snare. Stoatie grasped the end of the cord. A shriek cut through the morning air. The rabbit ran free.

Stoatie turned sharply toward the shack doorway. A filthy Fosco stood arms akimbo while the two other hobbit children ran off into the trees. The man cursed himself for putting them together. The evil little creatures had freed themselves.

"Ha-ha, smelly-stoat!" Fosco yelled and made to dash away as well.

Old Stoat charged toward him. The boy was fast but the man had a good turn of speed for he was acostomed to being chased. In a matter of minutes he was grabbed and felled by the full weight of his persuer.

He heard laughter above him. Stoatie looked up and saw another of Ferny's men standing with the hobbit escapees tucked beneath each arm. "You be lookin' for these'uns?" He enquired.

Stoatie pulled the squirming Fosco up and under his arm in a similar manner, being kicked several times in the process. "Aye, little rats. I thought they were firmly tethered in there."

The other man laughed again. "Na, don't put the varmits together. They're clever and cunning those halflings, even the bairns. Wait till Ferny hears about this Stoat. He'll have yer guts for garters. We could have lost all of them 'cos of you."

Stoatie was not impressed with being told how to do his job by a mere underling. He grunted bad-temperedly and turned back toward the shed.

[ April 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's post

29 Nárië

As they proceeded on towards Stock, Mithadan and Rose exchanged a few thoughts. Bird listened in silence; she had not entirely approved of allowing Rose to travel to Bree on this errand.

"Rose," said Mithadan. "You may travel with us for now, but you must not be seen in our company. Before we reach Bree, we must part so that we do not arrive together. I'm told there is a fine Inn there and you should head for it when you enter the town."

He withdrew his purse and handed Rose several coins. "Here. This should allow you to stay at the Inn for some time. You may do your share of snooping, particularly among the Hobbits, but keep in mind that we will not be able to come to your aid should you find trouble. Bird will visit you now and again to exchange news."

Rose looked up at Mithadan with concern and a bit of annoyance. "Other than snooping," she asked. "What will my role in this play be?"

Mithadan's face grew grave. "If Bird and I get into trouble, it will be up to you to find help..."

[ April 29, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ April 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

theWhiteLady's post

29 Nárië

As the trio hiked over the countryside, Rose began to reflect more deeply upon the seriousness of their mission. The young hobbit had set out determined to pull Mithadan back to the inn, but now she found herself moving farther away from the Shire she had grown and played within and closer to a danger crafty, deceitful, and desperate. Rose had been accustomed to fighting foes that openly defied her; these men were, in comparison, either cowards or very clever. Or perhaps a bit of both.

Rose gazed at the beautiful land they were passing through: a towering oak spread strong arms to the sky, as though bidding the passing birds to rest within his strong embrace and beneath his sheltering shade was a very fat and contended cow, who gazed with lazy curiosity at the three passing strangers. To the horizon, the land rolled away. Some hills were cleared and smoke could just barely be seen curling from a home to the west, but much of the land was still wooded and wild. Rose shuddered at a sight she would normally have felt her heart lighten. Her free spirit generally loved old forests that had not been subdued by human hand, but now she could only wonder if bandits used the wood for shelter and where in the shadows they might be hiding all those poor babes.

Mithadan called for Rose to catch up, his voice breaking through her gloomy thoughts like the midday sun. The young hobbit hurried along and began to apply her mind to more practical matters, such as how to get a message back to the inn if Mithadan were in trouble, and her own alibi for being in such an odd part of the Shire.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Late evening 29 Nárië

The journey back to Bywater seemed longer than the road to where the two Hobbits had found Mithadan and Bird. Gilly’s pony plodded along the Stock Road, then turned north at the great oak tree, heading across the open country between the pathway and the Great East Road.

At a tiny inn, set back in a small dell to the west of her route, she took her late evening meal, trading her skill at washing dishes and mucking out stalls for a hot supper and a place to sleep in the small barn.

‘Best we rest up well, Nettle,’ she said to her companion. ‘It will be a long walk back to the inn tomorrow.’ Nettle, it seemed, had picked up a stone along the way and was now limping from the bruise on her hoof’s tender quarter section. Gilly combed and curried her, treating her to a small carrot and an apple she had wheedled from the cook.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

30 Nárië

Early morning found her up and ready to go as soon as the sun peeked above the eastern horizon. Gilly took a cold breakfast from the food Mithadan had shared with her, and set out north from the inn, leading the slow gaited pony along behind her. With luck and fair weather, she would reach the Inn late in the evening . . .

[ April 28, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

30 Nárië – 1 a.m.

The wind gusted, blowing in dark clouds from the west. They covered the fat, yellowed moon blocking out its light for a moment. Capricious, the wind blew holes in the very clouds it had herded before it, and the silvered light shone through once more.

Pio gathered her cloak in tightly, fingers of wind wanting to snatch it from her with each step. The air was thick with the promise of rain. ‘Ulmo keep you,’ she murmured to the heaviness that pressed in about her. The trees stirred against her words, leaves thirsty for water in a long hot spell of summer.

Her laugh, light as the sound of tiny, silvered bells on the ankle of some dancing maiden, wove in among the rustlings of the wind and leaves. ‘Only for a small space of time,’ she said, touching the smooth, papery bark of some great birch that stood along the path to The Water. ‘Let me just walk unhindered by care for a little while, then let the rain come to you, when I am safe again beneath the roof of the Inn.’ The soughing of the wind through the leaves and slender branches was her only answer as she walked on.

Her destination this night was the unnamed stream that slipped down from the north and emptied into the Bywater Pool. In early days she had walked it to its source, but now, laden with child, she hoped only to push herself as far as the widened section of it. There, in the midst of it, a great, flat rock sat, just inches above the rushing stream, dividing it for a moment into two thin strands of foaming water. They pressed against the sides of the rocky fastness and wore it away slowly, carrying the flinty grey chips like little treasures to the keeping of the pool.

It was dark again when she came to it, the heavy clouds obscuring the moon and stars. Still she found the path of stepping-stones, and made her way carefully to the rock, clambering up to its top. A gust of wind blew the trailing clouds away, the moon’s light now illuminating the rocky surface and the rushing waters.

Her eyes narrowed, seeing a figure sitting at the northern tip of the platform, legs dangling down into the foaming waters. She drew back to the edge, thinking to cross the stream to the bank. Words, not spoken aloud, held her in her place.

I often come here, Piosenniel. The sounds of the waters obscure the noises of this world and for a time I can shut my eyes and think my self in my garden, amidst the waters of lake. Estë sleeps there, on the small isle that lies in the waters of Lorellin.

Perhaps it was just a trick of his mortal body, the way it slumped over, fingers reaching down to trail in the foam, but she thought she heard a great loneliness in his voice as he spoke to her. She drew near and sat beside him, her shoulder a bare inch away from his.

Lórien, she asked, I had thought you gone from us. How is it that you stay? Confined to a clumsy body, and the slow ways of the Shire folk, I should have thought you would have left us long ago.

And so I might have, save for the fact my business here is not yet finished . . .

[ April 28, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

30 Narie - 5 a.m.

Cami awoke while tiny stars still glittered in the sky. In the distance, the reflection of a faint, rosy light was barely visible along the eastern horizon. The ground was soft and moist. The collected moisture seemed to be more than just morning dew. Perhaps it had sprinkled gently during the night, leaving behind a few telltale signs. But, strangely enough, Cami's hair and bedroll felt dry.

Holly still lay asleep on the ground close beside her mother. When the wind had whipped against the trees shortly after midnight and come clattering through the tangled boughs, the child had been thoroughly frightened and crept over to hide within Cami's cloak.

Anxious to set out on the road as soon as they could, Cami walked over to Maura, bending down and placing her hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. He stirred slightly, stared groggily upward, then rolled back down, closed his eyes, and covered his head with a blanket.

A stern voice came from under the covers. "Cami, go back to sleep. It's too early."

She stubbornly tugged at her husband's sleeve, "Too early? No, it may be too late. We have to get back to the Inn as quickly as possible."

Maura looked at her seriously and sat up, rubbing his eyes one at a time. "So you've decided to return?"

"Yes, I was wrong. I should have listened to you. I've been awake half the night worrying about Pio. The twins are almost due. Gilly ran off with Rose, and Angelica Baggins must be beside herself with upset over Fosco. There's someone else who's supposed to help Pio....Peony somebody. But I don't know how reliable she is."

"If we're lucky, Mithadan will have enough sense to send Rose and Gilly back to the Inn. But, as much as I'd like to believe that, I can't be certain.

Within a few moments, Maura had grudgingly risen, shaken off sleep, and begun to organize things for their short trip home. Cami strapped the sleeping Holly in a sling on the front of her chest, while her husband loaded up their few belongings on the back of the pony. For the next few hours, the pair walked swiftly and deftly along the trail, retracing their steps northward, stopping for only a few moments to rest or take a cool drink from the waters of a brook.

Only an hour or so after the sun had risen fully in the sky, they made it to the steps of the Green Dragon Inn. They could hear the familiar sounds of breakfast being prepared and served inside the Common Room. Maura pushed against the door and the couple trudged inside, looking a bit bedraggled from their journey, with a toddler slumped in their arms who was still half asleep.

[ April 28, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

30 Nárië

Pio left Lórien to his musings when the moon began to set. ‘I should go now, and try to get some sleep, while my little ones are quiet.’ She rose, using his shoulder to steady herself. He smiled up at her, a playful look on his face. ‘Go to your rest. I’ll give them sweet dreams, and they’ll sleep a little longer then.’ He waved her off when she turned to look at him from the river bank, and fell back into his own thoughts.

She hurried back through the still dark night. The wind had blown the clouds away and no rain had fallen. The trees seem to chide her as she passed, that she had been in some way responsible. ‘Sorry!’ she murmured as she passed the beech tree once again.

Reaching the back door to the inn, Pio passed through the kitchen. She nodded to Cook, busy with her baking for the day. A posset of warmed milk and honey was gratefully accepted, but an offer of sweet buns declined. Cook shook her head, saying she would send a plate of breakfast round later.

‘Much later, if you please. I am tired and the babies are quiet for now. Let me sleep as long as I can.’

Cook nodded, saying that she would see to it she was not disturbed for a while. Pio turned back from the door into the Common Room just as she swung it open. ‘If you see Cami, by any chance, let her know I have news of Rose for her . . .’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Maura helped Cami over to a table and gently set her down. His wife's nervous energy so clearly apparent earlier that morning had totlly disappeared. Cami keeled over on the table, cradling her head on top of her arms. She had dark circles under her eyes; her face looked drawn and haggard. Maura shook his head and sighed. This was the same hobbit who'd given long lectures to her friend for gallavanting about the countryside on horseback or otherwise trying to do too much when she was pregnant. Maura ruefully thought that Cami might need a dose of her own medication and advise.

He walked over and popped his head inside the kitchen door and managed to catch Cook's eye. "My missus is a little tired. We've just come from the wooded area north of Tookland. It was quite a stretch. We left this morning just before sunrise."

Cook's eyerows went up. "Three hours time? You came all that way? Those lands stand some twelve miles south of here. Whatever possessed you to race Miz Cami along like that, her being in such a condition and all?"

Cook raised up her ladle as if she was about to strike Maura's head. "Talk to Miz Cami," he quickly retorted. "She's the one who pushed me along the road. She was so concerned about Pio that she spent half the night awake in bed and the other half running back to the Inn."

Cook went over to a cupboard and reached inside, drawing out a key. "Here, you take this. There's a room under the staircase set aside for the staff. It's very tiny. None of the big folk can even fit inside. You take your missus there and tell her to sleep a bit. She can't see Miz Pio now. The Elf was up walking half the night herself, and is tucked in bed now."

Maura thanked Cook and slipped the key in his cloak. She handed him a warm posset to relax Cami a bit as well as two steaming bowls of porridge for Maura to carry back to the room. Then Cook took Holly from Maura's arms and promised to have Ruby keep a close eye on her, while the couple managed to get some rest.

Just as Maura turned back to the Common Room, Cook tugged belatedly at his sleeve, remembering the message that Pio had left with her early that morning. "Begging your pardon, but when Cami wakes up, tell her to have a talk with Miz Pio. She has some news of Rose."

"Thank you, Cook. We're much obliged to you for your kindness." Then Maura quickly ducked out to help Cami make her way to the small chamber where she could get some rest.

[ April 28, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

30 Nárië

The face to face meeting was not destined to be that day. Cami was still sleeping when Pio awoke. Mithadan had spoken briefly to her earlier, that Gilly was on her way back to the Inn, coming north from Stock Road on the small track to the Three-Farthing Stone.

Going to her desk, she pulled out a piece of clean paper and dipping her quill in the inkwell, wrote a short note to Cami.

Dear Cami,

Have gone to fetch Gilly. Will be back later this evening. Mithadan has told me Rose is safe with him and Bird, and will continue on with them to their meeting place with the troublemakers. I am sorry, but that is all I know at present.

~~ Piosenniel ~~

Maura was nowhere to be seen as she passed through the Common Room and out to the stable to find Hob. He was busy shoeing one of the horses which had cracked a hoof, and was a little apprehensive when she asked him to make ready the pony cart for her.

His eyes darted up at her from his work on the hoof, and he raised his eyebrows in question at her request, wondering what Cook or Prim would have to say about it.

‘Never mind what they may have to say about it, Hob!’ she admonished him. Her words echoed his thoughts, startling him. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he replied, setting the horse’s leg down gently to the ground, and watching as the owner walked the horse for him, while he checked for eveness in the gait.

The pony was soon in harness, and Hob lent Pio an arm as she climbed to the seat of the cart. Bending down, she handed him the folded note, asking him to give it to Cami when she awoke.

‘I will be back before supper, I think – with Gilly in tow. Tell Cook and Prim I will see them then.’

She clucked to the pony, flicking the reins gently on her flanks, and headed south.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami awoke several hours later, feeling somewhat better, but disappointed to learn that Piosenniel had already left. She and Maura had risen early and rushed homeward in the hope that she could see her friend. Now that was impossible, since the Elf had taken the pony cart and was off somewhere searching the roads for Gilly.

Cami shook her head and wondered about the wisdom of Pio going off on her own so close to the birth of the twins. Still, Pio was an Elf, and perhaps she could tell exactly when these things were and weren't going to happen. Cami even considered whether she should try to saddle up a mount and go racing after her so that the two of them could talk. But a sharp glance from Maura disabused her of that notion.

Cami was not pleased to hear about Rose being with Mithadan and Bird. Once or twice, she scowled and asked what the Man could have been thinking when he agreed to let Rose go into such a dangerous situation. But Cami couldn't complain too much. She herself had turned a blind eye when Rose and Gilly left, altough she had suspected what her daughter was up to. Rose could be terribly stubborn, and Mithadan may not have had an easy time with that any more than she had.

Cami resiged herself to going back to the pond with Holly. For several weeks, she'd been working on two baby presents that still weren't ready. She promised herself to spend the afternoon putting the finishing touches on those, just in case Pio's twins came a bit earlier than expected.

Before Maura left for Bag-end to return the pony to Samwise, he leaned over to Cami and suggested, "We're not sure how much time we have here after the birth. We still haven't done a public handfasting. Let's do that right after Pio has her twins. Perhaps, we could do a joint party to celebrate the birth and our marriage."

Cami said she'd agree to this idea, as long as Pio felt comfortable with it. She hated to do a party when Rose and Mithadan and Bird were missing, but there seemed to be little choice. She told Maura to keep the guest list small. Given the sad situation in the Shire, it seemed appropriate that their festivities be quiet and intimate, with only close friends in attendence. Maura promised to talk with Samwise imediately after the birth and see what they could do.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

30 Nárië

‘Come on, Nettle. It’s only a little bit further. I want to get back tonight if we can.’ Gilly spoke encouragingly to the little pony, but to no avail. Nettle, never one for protracted periods of activity, balked, slowed down to a snail’s pace, and finally halted all together. She limped to the side of the road and began pulling at the tufts of grass and lovely dandelions that grew in abundance beneath the arching trees.

Gilly walked on down the path, hoping that the pony would be inclined to follow her. It was a vain hope, as Nettle eyed her curiously, once, and then returned to her grazing. The Hobbit trudged back to where the pony stood and sat down on a stump, prepared to wait out the stubborn animal.

She must have fallen asleep, she thought. The sun’s light was now from a decidedly western slant as her eyes flickered open, and there was something poking her sharply in the back, as she lay on her side. Strange, she thought, but try as she might with her hand she couldn’t seem to brush the offending object from her back.

‘Are you going to lie there all afternoon, Gilly? I do not relish the thought of having the babies here in the road.’ Pio nudged her once more in the back with the toe of her shoe.

Red-faced, the Hobbit scrambled to her feet and faced the Elf. Pio looked down at her, an amused look on her face. ‘Mithadan told me you were on your way; I came to meet you.’ She looked to where Nettle stood, obviously favoring one of her legs. ‘Just in time, too, I see. It looks as if your mount is in need of some coaxing and you could use a ride . . . yes?!’

Gilly shoved the question of just how Mister Mithadan had ‘told’ Mistress Piosenniel to the back of her mind. She could ask that later. Instead, she filled the Elf in on the events of the past two days, and thanked what lucky stars she had that Pio had the foresight to come with the cart for her.

They tied Nettle’s reins to the back of the cart, and plodded slowly back to Bywater. Gilly was afraid that Pio would be angry with her for running off, but the Elf spoke kindly to her, drawing her into a conversation on last minute things to be done before tomorrow.

It was late in the evening by the time they returned to the Inn. Hob unhitched the ponies and took them both to the stable, clucking his tongue over poor Nettle’s hoof.

[ April 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Loëndë

It is Loëndë and Isil rides low on the horizon, beloved. Your son and daughter will come today.’

Isil hung barely above the plum tree in the Inn yard just beyond Piosenniel’s window. It was just past midnight and already the babies were moving restlessly, as if feeling the pull of the silvered full moon on them. Rhythmic, like a slow tide easing up on the waiting sand and then retreating, the contractions came and went, spread far apart, gentle still.

Cook had told her this would happen first. And she pulled up some vague memory of other women and their births. But it was too far in the past, and to be honest, she had not paid attention, thinking it would never be her lot to fall in love or have children. ‘Get up and walk a bit when this part comes,’ Cook told her, recalling the births of her own children and their children. ‘Takes your mind off things, and the wee ones tend to drop down quicker if you do.’

Going to her desk, she wrote two notes, folded them in half, and stuck them in the inner pocket of her cloak. She drew the folds of her cloak about her, and went quietly out the door in the Common Room, walking northeast toward The Water and the Bywater Pool. Her steps were unhurried, and she watched the moon glide through the branches of the trees, following along just over her left shoulder as she walked along.

A short space of time brought her to Cami and Maura’s home. The front window was dark, and she could sense the four of them sleeping, snug under their covers. Approaching the front door quietly, she tucked the first of her notes, addressed to Cami, into the crack where the edge of the door met the jamb. ‘Come to the Inn when you get up,’ it said in her hurried script, ‘the twins will be here to greet the world today.’

She walked west, then, and followed The Water to the small ford near Bag End. There she turned her steps north, up the path toward Sam and Rose’s house and just a little beyond and to the east again. Up the path to Amaranthas’ dwelling. Again she left her old friend a note, asking her to come see her later in the day.

[piosenniel]

Loëndë

Anar climbed into the sky as she made her slow way back to the Inn. The pains heralding the approach of the birth were becoming more insistent. ‘Send Cook to me,’ she said to a surprised Ruby, who opened the kitchen door to her knock. ‘And Prim, too, if she’s about.’

Hob rose from his seat at the table and let her lean on him as she made her way back to her quarters. ‘Best get the cart and pony ready, Hob,’ she said to him, ‘you will need to fetch Angelica and Peony.’

She threw her cape onto the back of the sofa, and sat down carefully in the rocking chair, pushing the small of her back against cushions there. Her hands gripped the chair arms lightly, and she took deep breaths, blowing them out slowly.

Her countenance was serious and her concentration intense as she felt her children wonder at the pressures pushing at them. Do not worry, little ones. she assured them. Soon you will be in your ammë’s arms.

Cook and Prim had come in, and stood nodding their heads at her. ‘So, it’s begun,’ said Cook, ‘and just when she said it would!’ she slapped Prim lightly on the back. ‘I told you it would happen.’ Prim grinned and rolled her eyes, remembering that Cook had snorted at Pio’s announcement of the exact birth date.

‘Yes, well, I suppose it doesn’t matter who was right or not,’ returned Prim, ‘we’d best get things in order. Stack some blankets in the warming oven for the babies, Cook, and get some water heated up in case we need it.’ She turned to Ruby and Buttercup who had come scurrying up behind her and stood in the doorway. ‘Quit gawking you two! Ruby run and fetch Miz Pio a cool glass of water to wet her mouth. And you, Buttercup, come with me, we’ll stack the pillows against the headboard of the bed so she can lean back against them when the time comes.’

The bed was readied and the room put in order for the arrival of the midwives, Angelica and Peony. Hob had gone on his way to get them.

Cook cruised through the Common Room, asking all to please keep their voices down. Many raised their eyebrows when they heard what was going on, and one asked where the father was. ‘None of your business, Hamfast Burrows,’ she said fixing him with a baleful glare. ‘If Mister Mithadan could have been here, he would have. He had important business to take care of.’

‘Big Folk business . . . hmmmph!’ said Hamfast to his tablemates. ‘Can’t be nothing good about that!’ They laughed nervously at his statement, as Cook now drew very near their table, arms folded across her ample chest.

‘Well, now, that’ll be enough talk like that today,’ said Cook in a low voice. ‘You finish up your drinks right quick, and get back to your own families. I won’t have Miz Pio hearing anything bad today.’ Under her watchful eye, the wide-eyed Hobbits drank up and then hastily departed. ‘Anyone else have something to say?’ She looked round the Common Room in a decidedly challenging manner. But the only replies were a few, ‘No, ma’ams’. And the wisest of the lot simply kept their mouths firmly shut.

[ April 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel’s post:

Angelica sat on a little wooden stool in the kitchen, watching Peony cook. The hobbit-lady seemed so at ease and confident, while Angelica was so extremely scared. She had heard no new news of Fosco, and it was a tremendous strain. Thank goodness for Peony, who was so wonderful that she came over every day to do most of the housework.

"It was too kind of you to come, Peony," said Angelica. "You really shouldn't have, you know. You must have so much to do at home…"

Peony shook her head firmly. "I have no family of my own, you know, and you and Merimac really need me now," she said. "I was more than happy to come, and I'll come whenever I feel like it to help you out with things."

It was the early morning and Angelica had awoken from a bad dream, so Peony had brought her into the kitchen and was cooking her some warm mushroom soup to calm her nerves.

There was the faint sound of a pony cantering coming through the open window. "Now who could be the fool to go so fast when children might - " Peony stopped and stared, wide-eyed. "Angelica, it's Hob!" she said. A little knowing smile came to her face. "For him to come riding up here at that speed at this time can only mean one thing."

"What does it mean?" Angelica asked, puzzled.

"We'd best leave the soup," said Peony. "There will be no need for it now. Angelica, go get your coat. It's rather chilly out and I don't want you catching cold."

"What do you mean? Where are we going?"

Peony looked faintly surprised. "To the Dragon… for Pio." Then she left the kitchen and went down the hallway to the front door, where Hob was knocking firmly but quietly, trying his best to make them hear but not wake the two children. "Angelica!" Peony called. "Wake the children and have them get dressed and bundled up. Hob will take them. We can take my cart to the inn." Then she opened the door with a smile. "Hello, Hob. You'll need to take the children to wherever they're staying… Angelica will tell you. I have my own cart and pony here so I can bring Angelica and myself over." She was pulling on her own coat as she spoke. "What exactly did Pio say?"

"Not much to me, Miss Muddyfoot, but she told me to get you and Mrs. Muddyfoot."

"The babies, I suppose?"

Hob nodded. "Yes. She told Cook they were coming."

"Oh no!" a little cry from behind Peony was heard. "They can't come now!" Peony turned in surprise to see a pale Angelica. "Pio isn't supposed to have the twins until after Fosco is home."

"Is that what you agreed?"

"I never got to speak to her about it, but I assumed…"

"You know well that Pio has no control over the matter, Angelica Baggins Muddyfoot," said Peony firmly, taking her sister-in-law by the arm and leading her outside. "You've had three of your own, so you should know. Speaking of which, are the children ready yet?"

"Yes, they'll be coming soon."

"Hob, when they come, tell them that they're going over to wherever it is - " Angelica interrupted to let Peony know where exactly 'wherever it is' was " - and then bring them there."

"Yes, Miss Muddyfoot," said Hob. "Tell Pio good luck for me."

The two midwives got into Peony's cart, which Hob had made ready for them, and the former made the protesting and sleepy pony move at a quick trot down the road. Soon they arrived at the inn and made their way through the Common Room, Angelica insisting weakly that she had no idea where Pio was. Cook met them and led them up to the room, where Pio lay on the bed, her face sweaty and her hair damp. She smiled at them then gritted her teeth as another contraction gripped her…

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's post

Mithadan, Bird and Rose turned to the north and left the Stock Road, making their way towards the Bridge of Stonebows. They separated before turning onto the Great East Road, with Rose following well behind the other two. After crossing the bridge, they reunited and left the road again to camp.

Another day's journeying found them just north of the Barrow-Downs as evening fell. They camped to the north of the road at Bird's insistance, keeping far away from the ancient tombs. Nonetheless it was an uneasy night and Mithadan found it hard to sleep.

They resumed their trek towards Bree the next morning, again moving through the countryside rather than using the road. But not long after they began their hike, Mithadan stopped with an odd look on his face. He grimaced and moved a hand to his stomach.

"Are you all right?" asked Bird.

He did not answer immediately, then his face cleared. "I felt odd for a moment, but it has passed," he answered.

[ April 29, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ April 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Sharon's post

As rays of sunshine filtered through the lace curtains, Cami groggily looked up to see Maura staring at her with a serious expression on his face. She sat bolt upright, waiting for him to speak. "You've a note from Pio," he hastily explained, "It was left late last night, after we'd gone to bed."

Cami unfolded the paper with shaking hands, sensing that the moment she'd been waiting for had finally arrived. She read the note quickly, then set her feet on the floor, tossed on some clothes, and stuffed one piece of bread into her mouth and another in her pocket. "I have to go. Now. Pio says the twins will be here today. And Elves always know these things, or so she tells me." Cami raced around the burrow, searching for a few useful items that she'd set aside specially for this moment. She hastily thrust them into her apron, but continued ransacking the closet shelves.

"What are you looking for now?" Maura appeared to be genuinely curious.

"That bottle of ale, the one from the Green Isle, that Frodo gave to me." She bent down and reached to the very back of the bottom shelf and pulled out a strangely shaped flask filled with a mysterious dark brown liquid. The bottle had some sort of paper label glued to it which Maura thought looked very unusual, and there were oddly shaped letters that he'd never seen before.

"What in all of Arda is this?" He held up the flask to the sunlight and squinted at it.

Cami shrugged, "I'm not sure. Something about the modern day nectar of the Ainur. It's supposed to taste delicious. Pio says it's a hearty, nourishing brew. To tell the truth, I've never seen anything like it before."

In any case, since her friend had made a special point of telling Cami to bring it, she tucked the bottle under her belt, and ran off towards the Inn, yelling back at Maura that he should take care of Holly.

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

Cami was uncertain what she'd find within the Elf's bedchamber. Perhaps, Pio would have all the difficult business finished, and be sitting regally like an Elf queen with one twin perched on each of her knees. Then again, perhaps not.

As she left the courtyard and came through the back door, Cook grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her into the kitchen, "Thank goodness you're here. We're trying to take care of customers and tend to Miz Pio. It's not easy. Ruby's gone and collapsed on us." Cook pointed over to the corner where a limp hobbit figure had been hastily deposited in a large chair. Then she shook her head, "The girl was supposed to be helping the midwives with their supplies and drinks and such. Poor Ruby isn't used to such things. I hope you're more reliable than that."

Cami nodded vigorously and stood up straight, trying to look serious and competent as Cook carefully scrutinized her from the top of her curls down to her toes. Cook scowled a bit. The woman had obviously never given birth, but she did look to be the steady type, not prone to fits of fainting. With a shake of her head and an audible sigh, Cook handed Cami a tall stack of clean towels with a pot of boiling water balanced on top. "Go on with you then, but don't dawdle too much. Come right back as we've a cool drink for Miz Pio and the midwives as well."

Cami nodded, then scurried over to Piosenniel's bedchamber as fast as she dared, with a pile of supplies precariously perched between her eager, outstretched arms.

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

For the remainder of the morning and on into the early afternoon, Cami ran back and forth from the bedchamber to the kitchen, fetching and lugging all the supplies that Peony and Angelica needed. By lunchtime, she'd lost track of how many trips she'd made. She finally collapsed on a chair in the kitchen with her feet and legs hoisted up over the arm. But one scowl from Cook, coupled with dire threats of being replaced, pulled her up abruptly, and sent her scurrying out with another pot of boiling water.

To be truthful, the Elf did not look at all well to Cami. Pio's eyes seemed strained, and her face had a greenish tinge. Her friend had spoken so comfortably about the birth of the twins, as though she could do it in a single afternoon with no more effort than it took to knock off an armed opponent. But this seemed quite different.

Pio's body shook in obvious discomfort, yet she strained and bore down horribly in the precious moments that came between. For most of the time, Cami stood at the back of the room, worrying about what was happening and trying to stay out of the way of the midwives who seemed to know what they were doing. The fact that the Elf was so much larger than the hobbits meant that the two of them had to work together if they wanted to lift her shoulders or encourage her to sit up.

Once however, the hobbit tiptoed up close to Pio's bed and knelt down beside her friend. Cami placed her hand on the Elf's jagged curls and swept them out of her eyes, whispering how much she loved her and that Pio should relax so that the twins could come very soon. Then she slipped out one of the little things from her pockets, a sweet smelling sachet of herbs, and placed it near her friend's pillow. But then the tides turned and Cami was again whisked away as Angelica and Peony cried out for more cool rags.

[ April 30, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ April 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Loëndë

Early afternoon found Piosenniel tired and irritable. Contraction after intense contraction wracked her body, leaving no time to recover between them, and barely time to breathe. She was on the bed now, crouched against the pillows stacked in front of the headboard. Her face was pale and slick with sweat.

Mithadan! I cannot bear this much longer..

Further thought was cut off by another round of pain and pressure.

A grimace that might have passed for a smile flitted across her face when her thoughts cleared for a moment. She consciously relaxed her body and leaned against the pillows.

By the sea and stars, Mithadan, I would rather face the Orcs in Gondolin again. The pain of the blade is finite, and quickly gone. Something I understand. Something I can control in my own way. But this . . .

Peony said something to her, and Angelica repeated it. Their voices were kind . . .

[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel’s post

Angelica was pale as Peony sent her about the room, giving instructions rapidly. At last the hobbit sat down on a chair near the bed and said in a wailing voice, "I can't take it any longer, Peony! I can't do this anymore!"

Peony walked to the chair and gripped Angelica's shoulders, leading her into a dark corner. "I'll be brief, Angelica, because we're needed with Pio, but for goodness' sake stop complaining. You're a bundle of nerves! My goodness. It's not so bad as that, is it? Put yourself in the poor Elf's place.

"Now! Take three deep breaths and come back to the bed with me. You have to calm yourself as well as Pio, so tell some story… how Fosco and Prisca were born."

Angelica did as she was instructed and took three breaths, then went back to the bed. Her voice trembling a little, she spoke. "Y-you having these t-t-twins and all reminds m-me of when my own twins came into the w-world," she said. "Unlike y-you, though, I d-didn't expect them to come when th-they did. I was w-walking out in the g-garden when I just collapsed." A little smile came to her face. "It wasn't actually because of the twins," she said, her voice no longer shaky. "I took a misstep, you see, and twisted my ankle. Merimac brought me inside and a few minutes later I discovered I was in the first stages of birth, with mild contractions."

Peony smiled. She had heard this story once before, only in more detail. She always found it rather amusing how Angelica twisted her ankle just before she began to give birth to Fosco and Prisca. Looking at Pio, she could see the Elf was trying to forget the pain and listen to Angelica, but that she was only half-hearing everything that was said.

"Well, there was no time for a midwife, and I was nervous as well as in pain. Fosco doesn't know it, but Prisca is a few minutes older than he." She paused for a minute trying to gather her thoughts. "Prisca came quickly. There were a few minutes of horrible, horrible intense pain, then I heard a little wailing cry and saw Merimac's face. It was such a wonderful thing to see, his first look at his daughter. He just held her and gazed down at her for the longest time.

"Then it was Fosco's turn. He always was a stubborn boy. He was terribly opposed to leaving his warm home and I struggled with him. The pain was too great to imagine and I don't know how I lived through it all. But I did, and then Fosco came, too." She smiled as she thought about it. "I always wanted more children, and I may yet, you know. It's not too late."

Peony saw that the pain was growing more and more intense and so she leaned forward, whispering softly in the Elf's ear, "Think of something else, Pio. Think of something beautiful."

Angelica repeated this, and Peony saw plainly that she was thinking of something beautiful… when she had first become a mother. Peony knew that look on Angelica's face. The hobbit wasn't thinking of her twins anymore: she was thinking of her Madoc.

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's post

The three travellers continued on for perhaps a mile or so before Mithadan again stopped. He groaned, grasping at his belly, then collapsed to his knees.

"Mith!" cried Bird in alarm.

He looked up at his friends. His face was red and he was puffing heavily. After a moment he grimaced again, doubled up in pain. Bird rolled him onto his back and Rose dabbed at his sweating brow with a cloth.

From between gritted teeth, he spoke with a strained voice. "What day is it?" he asked.

Confused, Bird counted rapidly on her fingers. "It is the 30th of Nárië, I think," she answered.

"No," said Rose. "It is Midsummer."

Mithadan's eyes widened, then closed as his stomach was wracked with another wave of pain. "Piosenniel!" he spat.

"I'm sure she's fine Mith," said Bird. "Now relax, whatever's ailing you will pass."

His hand shot out and he seized her by the collar, pulling her close. "Its Piosenniel," he snarled. "We're having the twins!" He let her go as another wave of tightness swept over his body.

Bird rocked back on her heels, considering his words. Then her eyes grew wide. "She...you...Mith, can you shut her out?" He shook his head.

Bird turned to Rose. "Do you think we should boil water or something?" she asked.

[ April 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Child's post:

By lunchtime, a large crowd had gathered within the Common Room, mostly friendly and all curious as to how the Elf was doing. Every so often, Cami would pop her head inside and give a general report on what was going on in the Elf's bedchamber.

A few of the hobbits had taken out copper coins and were making wagers on when the babies would come. Cami took a broom and threatened to beat several of them over the head if they didn't stop wagering immediately. Upon hearing the racket, Cook came striding out with her cleaver in hand and growled, "Listen to what Cami says. Next time, it'll be a cleaver instead of a broom!" She held up the wicked looking utensil and glared about. The copper pennies vanished as quickly as they'd appeared.

Once in the late afternoon, Cami took a minute to go over to the table where Frodo and Bilbo sat together with Maura, Ban, and Zira. She spoke with them and took a cold drink, even eating a little after Maura sternly insisted.

Zira looked at Cami with worried eyes, "So long, so long. This has not been easy, especially for an Elf. How is she?"

"Exhausted and in great pain. For a moment this afternoon, I feared for her. But she found new strength somewhere inside and now things are happening quickly. I hope we'll see the twins very soon. I must get back."

Maura gave Cami a kiss on her head, and made her promise that, when all this had ended, she'd come home and take a long rest. "You're thinking about our baby," she whispered back to him.

"Yes, I am." He slid his fingertips through her hair and softly embraced her.

She leaned her head onto his shoulder. "Of course, no one can say how things will go, but you shouldn't worry. My mother had an easy birth. She went out that morning to help in the fields, and stopped beside a brook. Barely three hours later, she came walking home with me cradled in her arms. It's not always so painful or lengthy, but having a child is very hard work."

Then she turned to go back to her own work. Neither of them mentioned what was really on their minds. But as Cami trudged towards Pio's chamber, she wondered whether Maura would ever see his son. And she wondered too where Mithadan was now and just how he was faring.

[ April 30, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Loëndë

The merciless urgency to push these babies from her was now full upon Pio. The idea of it, the need for it consumed her.

In a brief moment of respite, Pio brought up an image of the Sea. A wild and powerful scene from her childhood . The shores of Falas, the coarsely pebbled, northern strand and the unrelenting advance and retreat of the waves and water.

White waves crashing loudly, one after the other, on the beach, and the roaring hiss of the water as it ran over the pebbles, pushing outward, as if the spirits of the waves and water sought escape from the confines of the Sea itself.

So clamorous and so vivid was this image that she could barely hear the voices of Angelica and Peony as they spoke to her . . .

[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel’s post

"The first is almost here," Peony whispered to Angelica, and then repeated the same thing to Pio. "The first of your children is almost here, Pio. Relax… it will be soon."

She continued to speak reassuring words to the Elf and smiled at Angelica. Yes, it would be soon.

[ April 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Loëndë

It was her daughter, who first slipped into this world, and with a loud wail proclaimed it her own. Pio grinned widely, reaching for the dark haired, red faced, wizened little bundle as Peony brought her near.

She made the way easy for her brother, who followed shortly after, and without much effort, protesting with a lusty cry, the touch of cold air against his skin.

Pio held them both in her arms, kissing each on their tiny head as they turned to find her.

Mithadan! Your son and daughter have arrived. All is well! They await your naming. Take care, Beloved, and return to us safely.

[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel’s post

Pio was wild with joy. She kissed her son and daughter again and again, the joy clearly shining in her eyes. "It is hard to resist," said Peony. "When Madoc was first born Angelica had to practically hide him from me. I couldn't stop kissing him."

The work wasn't yet finished yet, Peony knew, so she said, "Angelica, bring me some water and then go down to the kitchen and get yourself a cup of tea. I'll finish up with Pio."

Angelica obeyed, but seemed a little reluctant to leave. At last she turned and, closing the door softly behind her, left.

Peony worked quickly and soon finished with Pio and the babies. She then retreated to a dark corner to leave the joyful mother with her children. She would be close by if she were needed.

[Mithadan]

Suddenly Mithadan seemed to relax and he he settled limply on the ground. Rose looked at him with wide eyes. "Is he dead?" she asked.

"That would serve him right now, wouldn't it?" said Bird with a grin. "I'm sure Pio wished that many a time during the past few hours."

Mithadan smiled weakly. Mithadan! Your son and daughter have arrived. All is well! They await your naming. Take care, Beloved, and return to us safely.

"Take care indeed," he muttered, the image of the two babes lingering in his mind for several long minutes. He rolled over weakly and glared at Bird who was giggling again. "I'm so glad you've enjoyed yourself," he said. "Now fetch me some water, Auntie..."

[theWhiteLady]

While Bird went to fetch water from a nearby spring, Rose dug through her pack, making quite a mess on the ground about. Now that Mithadan had recovered, she had remembered a small packet she had shoved in with a few apples snitched from the kitchen. The apples were long gone, but she was certain the packet should still be inside...

After several minutes searching, she finally shouted triumphantly and held up a small bag. Bird had returned from the spring, and she turned about with a pained expression, about to warn the young hobbit to keep down her voice - they did not want to alert all of the Shire of their presence - but Rose cut her off.

“Mithadan,” Rose made a small curtsy before the man. “May I be the first to wish you congratulations on the birth of your twins.” She opened the small bag and pressed it into his palm. Inside, he discovered with a laugh, twelve cigars.

[piosenniel]

Loëndë

‘Here! Let me hold the little ones for a while.’ Gilly reached first, with practiced hands, for the girl. ‘Amazing,’ she thought, as she pushed the soft blanket back from the little face and looked closely at her features.

Light grey eyes peered back at her brown ones, looking solemnly for a few moments at the large visage which loomed over her. A tiny, perfect hand and arm pushed out from the loosened blanket and stretched, the fist clenching, then relaxing as the baby yawned and closed her eyes.

‘It’s a wonder, isn’t it?’ Gilly said, turning to where Peony stood. ‘She looks much like the newborns back at home. Perfect, and lovable.’ She bent her head closer to take in the baby’s sweet scent. Her heart already half won over as the wee one settled comfortably into her arms.

‘So trusting,’ she murmured. Gilly’s fingers reached gently up to smooth back a few stray, damp dark curls that lay along the baby’s brow, as she whispered some soothing sounds. Her finger strayed down the soft cheek, stopping briefly at the dimpling near the corner of the little mouth. Greedy, as all babies are, for the comforts of their mother and a full belly, the face turned toward the light caress, lips seeking sustenance.

The Hobbit laughed in delight at the strong, insistent mouth, angling toward the promise of food. Pio smiled and reached back for her daughter. ‘This one is well fed and sleeping now. Take him for a while, and let me have the hungry one.’ The Elf gathered the now fussing, frantic chicklet to her as Gilly clasped the little boy, and sat down carefully with him in the rocking chair.

‘Oh, look at you! You’re just as handsome as your sister is beautiful.’ Hair dark as a raven’s wing at midnight crowned his head. At her words, his eyes opened and dark grey, they regarded her, as if taking her measure. ‘Am I up to your standard?’ she laughed, watching his serious face. ‘Am I acceptable, little master?’

His hand lay open and inviting at his side. She touched a finger to the palm, smiling as he grasped it strongly. ‘We are agreed then, to be friends, eh?!’ she said solemnly, kissing the little finger tips that clung to her own.

Peony grinned as she watched the second baby win the Hobbit’s heart. She nodded at the Elf, who had followed closely the interchange between Gilly and her children. Pio smiled and nodded back, glad that her final concern had been resolved just now. She had always known that the Hobbit would be a good caretaker for the little ones. Now she was assured Gilly would love them, too.

Gilly, drawn from her reverie by Pio’s voice, looked up from the now sleeping boy. ‘It sets my mind at ease, Gilly - that you will watch over them when I cannot.’ Peony took the napping girl from Pio’s arms and settled her in Gilly’s other arm. The Elf leaned forward, and regarded the Hobbit with a serious face.

‘They are new, little innocents in this marred and shadowed world. They trust you, Gillyflower Took. Keep them safe.’

Gilly took a deep breath, and nodding her head, accepted the charge. Pio smiled, watching her bend to give them each a gentle kiss on their brow.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Child's post


Cami gazed over Pio's shoulder and stared intently at the smaller of the two wiggling bundles nestled securely in her friend's arms. She smiled gently at the prospect of being an "Auntie." Glancing over at Maura, she observed, "I believe this one has Pio's looks and temperment. Just look at her face, all scrunched up. She already knows exactly what she wants and is figuring out how to get it."

As if in response to Cami's words, the girl gave out a yelp of protest at some real or imagined injury in her tiny world. Pio tenderly shifted the little bundle closer, until the only sound heard inside the room was that of a little one nursing.

On her friend's face was a look of contentment that was different than any Cami had seen there before. The hobbit leaned over and found her own thoughts brushing against those of her friend. I'm so very happy for you. All those months of waiting and now this joy. I only hope Mithadan returns soon to be with you.

As Cami returned to Maura's side, she saw a shadow flit briefly over her husband's face. It was only an instant before he willed it away and turned to her again with a smile. There was no need for Cami to ask what he was thinking. The birth was over, and yet they were still here. But how long would that continue? Perhaps, Lorien would come to them tonight, insisting that they leave and go their separate ways.

A feeling of panic welled up in Cami's heart as she desperately searched for some way out. She tried to reassure herself. They shouldn't be leaving for at least a week. She'd already promised Bilbo that the two of them would stand up in the sitting room of Bag-end on the day of the twins' welcoming party, and exchange their vows publicly in front of friends. Like Maura, she purposefully shut out her fears and focused on Pio and the twins, since all the paths that led beyond this day held too many unanswered questions.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Pio knew that the first thing Amaranthas did in the morning was to step out on her covered front porch and inspect her flower pots for any caterpillar, or spider mite damage. She would look closely at each flower and peer under the leaves, for tell-tale signs of larvae or webbing; then, inspect the edges of the glossy green leaves of the camellia bush for evidence of bite damage from the caterpillars. Today was no different. In fact she had stopped in the kitchen on her way to the front door to mix up a weak solution of Pear’s granulated soap and spring water to spray on the plants as a preventative.

All was forgotten as she opened the door and the folded piece of thin vellum floated down to her feet, bearing the bold script signifying it came from Pio’s hand.

‘Now what’s that fool Elf gone and done! Rode that horse out here again?!’ She looked about the small lawn and down the path for any 'evidence' that ‘Falmar had indeed born her mistress to the house. Seeing none, she opened the note, and a wide grin split the wrinkled face of the old Hobbit.

She plunked her spray bottle down on the porch, and addressed her precious plants. ‘Sorry dears, but you’ll have to fend for yourselves today. I’ve got urgent business in Bywater.’

Amaranthas hobbled as fast as her ancient legs would carry her back to her bedroom, threw on a dress, smoothed her curls with her fingers, and giving up on them, jammed her straw hat firmly on her head. On the top shelf of her closet, she carefully drew down the basket with presents in it for the twins. Grabbing her cane from on top her dresser, she made her way to the small shed where Thistle stood, munching at the hay Amaranthas had left her last evening.

‘No time for breakfast now, Thistle,’ she said opening the half door wide, and leading her out. The small pony cart was soon hooked up, and Thistle twitched her ears in anticipation. Amaranthas had mentioned something about carrots, and apples and oats from Hob once they reached the Inn.

Neighbors along the lane leading to the road to Bywater were forced to jump quickly from the path of the speeding pony and her determined driver. ‘What’s lit a fire under the old gal?!’ exclaimed one of the farmers whose handcart had ended up in the ditch as he scrambled to get out of the way.

In record time they made it to the Inn. Amaranthas stepped from the cart, assisted by Hob. He was trailed by Madoc who was helping out in the stable while his sister, Prisca, spent the day playing dress-up and frosting cookies with Minta. Hob handed out the basket to Madoc, instructing him to help Miz Amaranthas up the stairs to the Inn, and show her to Miz Pio’s room.

Amaranthas stood, brushing vigorously at her road dusted dress, and raised her sharp black eyes to Hob when at the mention of needing help to get up the stairs. Her face softened at the sight of Madoc, who stood there so attentively, and she nodded to him, taking his offered arm.

‘Lead on, then, laddie! I’ve got babies to be seen to . . .’

[piosenniel]

Peony and Gilly had slipped out to the Common Room for a bit to eat. The babies were sleeping and Piosenniel seemed comfortable enough, and more in want of rest than their company. Each now had a pint of the Dragon’s nut brown ale clenched in their fists as they stood looking for a table to join.

The Common Room was buzzing with activity. Free ale and the chance to relax and gossip a bit in these troubled times had drawn the locals in. Many of them had met Miz Pio when she was the Innkeeper, and there were only a few who begrudged her the right to be staying in the Shire to have her babies. More there were, however, who grumbled over the fact the father was here also, and he was one of those trouble causing Men.

Not such a one was Hap Burrfoot, one of the lads from Bywater, and a master brewer. He had liked the Elf from the first, found her a first rate, knowledgeable buyer of his various ales, and had enjoyed his amiable arguments with her on the ideal ratios of ingredients and types of water for making the best ales. He granted her that she had indeed traveled much and tasted widely of the brews the world outside the Shire had to offer. But it was his considered opinion that despite her cultured taste buds, she would find no better ales than the ones she would taste within the Bounds. To his delight, she had agreed with him, and they had spent a week or so, soon after she first came to Bywater, traveling about the country side, taste-testing the Shire’s finest.

Mister Mithadan, when he arrived, had proved as apt a pupil and connoisseur as his wife. And though, he couldn’t leave the Inn much because of the King’s edict, he had been more than willing on several occasions to taste the samples that Hap brought to the Inn. Hap found him an altogether genial fellow with a thoroughly wicked sense of humor.

It was Hap who waved Peony and Gilly to his table and bade them sit with him and his mates. One of the servers was called over, and soon a plate of thick cheese sandwiches and pitcher of ale were being passed round the group. Hap topped off Peony’s ale and passed the plate of sandwiches to Gilly. He looked round the room for any sign of Miz Cami or Cook, then leaned in toward the two women.

‘My friends and I have a little wager going on as to just when Miz Pio’s babies were born. I was wondering if you could shed some light on it.’ Peony laughed aloud and shook her head at him. ‘It’s a friendly wager, Peony. Help us out here.’ He grinned at her, and topped her pint off once more. ‘Tell you what,’ he said, ‘there’s a dance coming up this weekend to celebrate Mid Year. Tell me when the babies arrived, and I promise to escort you there and see to it that you have a grand time.’ He grinned broadly at her once more, settling himself comfortably back in his chair, and waited . . .

Nurumaiel's post

Peony paused and groaned at this tempting offer. Looking a bit sorrowful, she shook her head. "I would love an escort to the dance, but I couldn't possibly tell you."

"And why's that?" Hap demanded.

Peony grinned widely and took a bite of her sandwich, leaning back smugly. "Did either of you guess, 'I don't know, the midwives were probably too busy to look at the time?'"

"You mean you don't know?"

"And that's a fact." She sighed. "I guess I'll have to find a different escort to that dance, eh?"

Pio’s post

His chair legs hit the floor with a thunk. Hap’s companions looked sideways at him and snickered s bit, averting their eyes quickly when he glared at them. One of them, a braver fellow than his friends, clapped Hap on the back, and leaning close whispered to him. ‘Guess you’ll just have to ask her straight out, won’t you?’

Hap’s face took on a decidedly red tinge, and he hid what he could of it behind the mouth of his pint. Taking a hasty swallow, followed by a deep breath to regain his composure, he turned once again to Peony and smiled ingratiatingly at her.

‘I should have guessed you would have been to busy to keep track of time. No matter really. In fact, it keeps the three silver pennies each of us was putting into the pot in our own pockets.’ He took another deep breath and plunged on. ‘In fact, it should be enough for a nice meal at the Inn and a couple of pints before the dance. That is if you’re still willing.’

Hap’s companions busied themselves in the deep study of the bottom of their tankards, while Gilly, a bite of sandwich half chewed in her mouth, looked unabashedly at Peony, wondering what she might answer . . .

Nurumaiel's post

Peony stopped whatever she had been doing, which she couldn't quite remember, and stared wide-eyed at Hap. Then slowly color stole to her cheeks and she looked at the ground. "Well..."

Hap opened his mouth to try to say, "Please, Peony," but no words would come out. He was much too nervous.

After all these years? Peony wondered. What is wrong with me? She looked up and a wide smile came to her face. "Certainly I'll go," she said with a laugh. "I'd be delighted. Thank you, Hap."

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

1 Cermië

After a day's rest, Mithadan, Bird and Rose continued on to Bree. They separated again prior to reaching the gate and Rose waited an hour before before following the other two into the town. Thus Mithadan and Bird arrived at the Prancing Pony in the late afternoon and Rose arrived at dusk.

After securing quarters for the evening, Mithadan and Bird proceeded to the Common Room where they sat sipping at mugs of ale and listening to the locals converse. Upon hearing one complain that there was too little trade with The Shire, Mithadan seized an opportunity to enter the conversation.

"Yes, we entered The Shire, and a bad business it was," he said. "We're up from the south looking for a place to call our own and ran into this fellow who warned us about the Halflings. As a precaution, I hid my sword and a change purse before going on at his advice. Good thing too! No sooner had we entered that land as a bunch of Halflings on ponies rode up and took us. Trapessers, they called us, though we'd done no harm. And they shut us into this tiny room and locked us in while they went through our things. Held us there for weeks, they did, before showing us the door as they say. Escorted us to the border and said they's as soon shoot us full of arrows if they saw us again. Took our horses and the lady's purse as a 'fee' for their fine services, they did. If we hadn't hid some things afore we entered their hospitality, we'd have nothing but the clothes on our backs."

The Men they were speaking with nodded and grumbled in sympathy. Mithadan then steered the conversation to the subject of work. "The fellow we met near the border of The Shire, he offered me some work, he did. I'm looking for him now to take him up on his offer. His name was Stoat or some such thing. You know where I'd find him?"

Their faces darkened a bit at the name. But eventually, after a bit of prodding, they directed Mithadan to Ferny's plantation. "You might find work there, though I can't say as you'd like it," said one. "And where Ferny is, Stoat will soon be skulking about..." They suggested that he might wish to find another employer, then wished the two a good night as they stood to leave.

As they passed the door, Rose entered with her pack. They favored her with a scowl and continued to their rooms.

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Birdland]

The Prancing Pony seemed to have recovered from whatever damage the doings of Saruman had caused in the area during the time of the War. In fact, with the roads slowly improving and trade stirring from the South and West, it had even shown some improvements. Mr. Butterburr had always taken pride in his inn, and was putting his new-earned wealth in a variety of repairs and improvements. Bird approved of the fine new feather bed and soft wool blankets on the sturdy bed.

"But where will you sleep, "husband"? said Bird with a grin as she bounced up and down on the bed, testing the tightness of the rope springs.

"What? And after I have just been through "birth" - Though second hand - you would consign me to a bedroll on the floor? I'll flip you for it..."

Later, as Bird settled into a cozy spot on the mantel (in Neekerbreeker form) and Mith settled with a sigh into the featherbed, the little skinchanger returned to the subject of Bill Ferny.

" 'Plantation', eh? From what I had always heard of that Ferny fellow, he seemed barely to have the skill or will to grow a spotty turnip, let alone an entire crop." Mith rolled over and gave a prodigious yawn, but Birdie ignored the hint and continued to talk in her squeeky, faint insect voice. "Just what do you suppose he grows on this 'plantation', Mith? And who is doing the growing for him?"

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

After the children had almost escaped Ferny has decided to give the job of gaoler to another of his men. Stoat was relieved to be free of such a charge. It didn't really suit his temprement. He had the same attitude to children as he did to kittens. Better off in a bucket full of water with an empty bucket pressed on top.

Some other man, some man who'd had children some time in Gondor or another far flung place watched over them. He'd even built them a little pen so that they might get a little light. He'd ever offered them water for washing but being children they refused. Stoatie wandered over from a small smithy that had been set up for the making of weapons and peered through the mesh as the boy Fosco. The other two children cowered together in the corner of their 'rabbit run' Fosco still stood erect and defiant although his imprisonment had now been of such a length to demoralise an adult. Old Stoat spat upon the ground, through the mesh and near the boy's feet. "Yer fair reek yer little rascal. There'll be no more name calling from ye now."

"I'll call you what I like. I heard what that Ferny man said. He's your boss and he said you mustn't hurt a hair of my head!"

Stoatie smiled. "That's only cause he wants to keep the torturing of you all to himself." Stoatie hissed and walked away. The hobbit children were beginning to bore him. Stoate was a house-breaker, a theif, a kidnapper and murderer too. He wanted to get his hands on that Hobbit gold that Ferny had promised him. He liked quick hits, this was taking far too much time for Old Stoat. The longer this took then the greater the chance of discovery. Stoatie had no intention of being discovered. He would bide his time a little longer but he was hungry now. Not for food like his captive halflings but for the riches he'd been promised.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Auriel Haevasawen ]

[piosenniel]

1 Cermië

Amaranthas spent the day with Pio, and she was glad to have her company. She was one of the few visitors whose topics of conversation extended beyond the boundaries of the best way to get twins on a schedule, or when might be the best time to try thin oat gruel on a baby who wants to nurse all the time. And yes, the babies were cute agreed Pio for the hundredth time, or was it the thousandth she thought smiling blithely, as a well wisher from the Inn cooed over them. But, By the One, they were only babies, and love them fiercely and completely as she did, her mind could not fathom that people might think they were the boundaries of her world now.

The little ones were in fact asleep at present in the other room, and Gilly had gone in with them - to nap and to reach a hand out now and then, giving the cradle a gentle rock should they fuss.

Pio and Amaranthas sat together out in the Inn yard, near the stable. Hob had placed two comfortable wooden chairs beneath the tall spreading oak, with a small table between them. He kept an eye on the two ladies, shooing away any well-wishers gently but firmly. A plate of thick sliced bread, thin sliced cheese, and great, fat, purpled plums graced the table, compliments of Cook, along with a pot of sweet spice tea.

‘Care for some tea?’ asked Amaranthas, pulling the two mugs close to her, and picking up the pot.

Pio reached out her hand and stayed the pouring of the tea. ‘This is better, I think,’ she said winking at her companion. She pulled out the clear flask with the dark brown liquid in it from the small basket she had had Hob fetch for her. It poured out thick, dark and rich, with a crown of fine, dense creamy foam. ‘A present (http://www.guinness.com/vgn/images/portal/cit_451/136357364152shamrock.jpg) from Cami,’ she explained. From some little known, green isle to the northwest of Lindon. ‘Quite good for nursing mothers, or so I have heard,’ she said smiling, as she licked the line of foam from her upper lip.

Amaranthas sniffed the deep, roasted grain smell, and took a swig from her mug. She shook her head and hmmmph’d once the brew slid down her throat. ‘Wonderful,’ she said, ‘but I must say it tastes suspiciously like a well done ale.’ ‘An exceptionally well brewed ale,’ she said taking another appreciative drink.

In all it was a relaxed afternoon they passed beneath the old tree. Amaranthas had gleaned a lot of information from her neighbors on the status of the investigation into the disappearance of Fosco and the other Shire children and shared all she knew with Pio. In turn, Pio had spoken quietly of Mithadan and Bird’s attempt to find out what they could.

‘I wondered why he wasn’t here’ remarked the Old Hobbit, nodding her head in understanding. ‘I thought it a little queer that a father should go off somewhere just as his first born are due. But I held my tongue, thinking you would tell me in due time.’ She reached over and patted Pio on the hand.

Gilly came out, bringing the fussing and hungry babies to their mother, and all talk of worrisome things was put aside while the babies nursed. It turned instead to lighter talk of the upcoming Mid Year dance, with Gilly chiming in her piece of news that Hap Burrfoot had asked Peony to go with him.

‘About time that young woman found herself a respectable Hobbit to settle down with,’ pronounced Amaranthas. ‘High time she was thinking about a family of her own instead of delivering other women’s babies.’ Pio let the remark drop, knowing the futility of arguing with Amaranthas on the merits of settling down and having a family versus life as a single person.

Soon, Amaranthas felt the need to get back to her own home. She had Hob fetch Thistle and the pony cart, and before leaving extracted the promise from Pio that she would get out tomorrow for some fresh air. ‘Do you good to get out of that room,’ she urged. She turned to Gilly and her eyes brightened. ‘Why don’t you bundle up the babies tomorrow and you and Miz Pio can come up to my place for the afternoon. It’s nice and quiet up there, and no one will bother us.’ She thumped her thick walking stick on the ground as if to emphasize her point.

‘We’ll do that,’ answered Pio, looking forward to getting away from the Inn for a bit. ‘Gilly and I will bring a basket of Cook’s pastries, and you can set the kettle to boiling and make us a pot of your lemon verbena tea.’

Pio bent down and gave her friend a quick hug. Then helped her up to the cart seat and handed her the reins. ‘Tomorrow, then,’ she said, smiling and waving her off.

‘I could use another snack, Gilly. What say we let Cook and Prim hold the babies for a while and we go raid the kitchen!’

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Child's post

1 Cermie

Maura sat at one of the tables in the rear courtyard of the Inn, as he struggled to explain to his sister Zira and her husband Ban why he would not be returning to their home on Tol Fuin. It was the first time that he’d talked to them about the decision he and Cami had made.

His announcement did not come as a total surprise. For some time, Zira had suspected that her brother would not agree to separate from Cami again. The situation had become more complicated than when they’d first given their word to Ancalimon in the prison camps of Dorthonion. Cami’s pregnancy, coupled with Maura’s continuing affection for Rose, and his growing friendship with the boys, had placed the hobbit in the uncomfortable position of feeling that he was shirking his responsibilities both as a husband and father. All the fine words of the Istari about rips in the fabric of time and the need for sacrifice paled before the reality of little eyes looking up to him and asking for help .

Zira knew that Lindo could easily serve as Loremaster and Bard for the Tol Fuin community. Indeed, the younger hobbit possessed a gift of song that went far beyond her brother’s. Their neighbors on Tol Fuin had settled into a quiet, peaceful existence. The hobbits’ lives centered on the rearing of crops and a firm determination to pass on their lore and values to their children. Since the sinking of Beleriand, they had not faced serious outside threats other than the normal hazards of living in Arda, a world where shadows could sometimes lurk on even the brightest days. But she also knew that many on the isle would miss Maura's gentle ways as a teacher and storyteller and friend to Ancalimon. And none would mourn his absence more profoundly than she would, since they’d always been so close.

Looking over at her brother, she placed her hand on top of his, and asked, “Are you sure about this? Sure that this is the right thing to do?”

He shook his head and shrugged, “Sure? I’m not sure about anything. But it’s against my whole nature to walk away from those children and pretend they don’t existence. Cami has provided a home for the boys, but it hasn’t been easy. She’s given and given of her heart and labor, yet they still pull away. There are things in the boys’ past I don’t understand. There may always be problems, yet Gamba definitely feels more comfortable with me as a man than he does with his mother. Even Cami understands that.”

“But that’s not all. There’s a baby on the way. I’m responsible for a new life. I just can’t believe that the powers over Arda want me to forget that.”

Zira looked into her brother’s eyes. She saw uncertainty, but she also glimpsed a grim determination on his part to see the situation through to the end, whatever the cost. She stared intently at him and responded, “If you’ve weighed everything and still feel this is right, you must follow that path, even if it leads you away from me.” The brother and sister embraced and then sat talking quietly of their childhood and things they remembered from days gone by.


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


Cami had returned to the burrow, after belatedly remembering to give the treasured flask to her friend. She now sat alone near the window, thinking how hard it must be for Maura to speak with his sister and tell her that they might never meet in this life again. The afternoon sun sank low, as she stared blankly across the pond. On her lap lay a darning needle and thread, and one of her husband's shirts she'd been trying to patch. She pushed aside her worries to focus on the immediate task. Her needle flicked quickly in and out until the hole got smaller and disappeared. Then she held the shirt up to the fading sunlight still filtering through the window to make certain it was properly mended.

Just then, she heard a loud, insistent knock. Rising from her seat and unlatching the door, she discovered Bilbo and Frodo waiting outside. Bilbo tipped his hat and wished her a pleasant evening, inquiring if Maura was in. Frodo explained that they intended to visit Bag-end tomorrow and speak with Sam about the celebration planned to welcome Pio's twins. They had wondered if Maura might want to join them.

“For certain,” Cami responded. “And not just him. I need to speak with Miz Rose about the plans for our handfasting.”

After settling on arrangements to meet at the Gamgees, she insisted they stay for tea. Bilbo looked older and more tired than Cami had remembered from before. She set him gently down on the most comfortable chair in the burrow, and placed a warm pot of honeyed tea and scones between the three of them.

As weary as he was, Bilbo could not resist several good-natured jabs at Cami, "So you’re finally going to do it. We were about to place bets on whether you intended to go through with any of this. It's taken you long enough to get around to a public exchange of vows. I kept thinking we'd come all this way from Tol Eressea for nothing."

Cami smothered a laugh and assured Bilbo that she intended to go through with her bargain, or at least this part of it. Bilbo said nothing for a moment, but then shot back with another barb, "So you pick and choose which promises you keep? Frodo's told me of your decision." He shook his head, "It's your choice, of course. I had hoped that Gandalf or Lorien could have done more to help the two of you. But I'm honestly not comfortable with what you’re proposing. Maybe if I was still in the Shire, I'd feel differently. But I've been in the West long enough to know better. This just won’t work."

"Promise me one thing. Just one. Promise me you'll speak with Lorien before acting."

Bilbo's eyes were so insistent and his demeanor so concerned that Cami found it hard to shrug off the request. Before the two hobbits finished their tea and left the burrow, she had agreed to hunt down Lorien and speak with him about their future plans.

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

theWhiteLady's post

Rose was delighted to see that Mith and Bird had arrived safely before her, but she was even more pleased to be greeted by the famous Butterbur. Cami had often told her of the fat innkeeper and his part in the War of the Ring, and Rose laughed to herself as she saw his voluminous figure bustling around in exactly the manner she had imagined.
“Well now, what can I do for you, little miss?” he noticed her standing uncertainly behind the counter and gave her a kindly smile.

“A room for a few night’s stay, if you please.” She replied, raising her chin to look into the man’s red face.

“Of course! I’ve got a wonderful cozy room on the first floor that will fit you just right, and if you’ll leave it here, I’ll have your bag taken up in half a moment.” Butterbur moved away with a quickness that belied his bulk.

Rose was delighted he seemed too busy to ask many questions, and after freshening up a bit, made her way into the common room for a bite to eat and perhaps a bit of local gossip that might help Mithadan and Bird. The room was dim with smoke emerging in blue and grey curls from the pipes of many of the hobbits and men gathered, a larger crowd than Rose had expected. A very obvious division seemed to be made between the two kindred; the men were gathered together by the bar while the hobbits huddled around smaller tables near the hearth in which a small fire blazed, only adding to the stifling atmosphere of the room. Rose wished only to be back in her room, snuggling under the cool covers but her mission, and her stomach forced her feet in the opposite direction, and she was soon surrounded by the local hobbit folk who questioned her most enthusiastically about news from the Shire. Word of the kidnappings had reached the inn, and many dark looks were shot towards the men talking loudly at the bar as Rose spoke of the most recent disappearance of Fosco, careful not to mention any names.

“I”ve heard tell that the trail seemed to lead up this way,” she whispered, her curly head leaning in close to the circle of listeners. A few older hobbits nodded sagely, and one spoke out. “It’s this Bill Ferny.” he spoke bitterly. “Every since he’s come back, none of us have had a moments peace. Everyone knows he hates us, since his great hopes were scattered in the War. Some say he’ll do anything to get his revenge.”

“And now a lot of strange big folk have been seen around Bree, some asking where his plantation is.” Another red-haired hobbit spoke out in a louder tone. “Why, one of them came in today asking questions, and he didn’t look, nor smell, none too fair either. Had a young lady with him that gave a me look fit to fry! They weren’t up to no good, I can tell you that right now.”

“Now then, Toman, not all the big folk are mean; sometimes it’s just hard to separate the good ones from the bad ones.” The first hobbit had turned back to address Rose now. “You’d just best be careful with whom you talk, but if you stick with us, we’ll make sure no harm comes to you while you stay here.”

Rose smiled and thanked her new companions for the offer before retiring back to her room. It was late, and she had walked the whole day. It sounded like Mith and Bird had got the information they needed, and right now, all she needed was a good night’s rest on a real bed. Which is, of course, just what she got.

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Child's post

Cami had decided to search out Lorien on her own as Bilbo had suggested. She’d heard from Pio that the Vala could sometimes be found walking near the pond or in the gardens of the Inn during the cool nightime hours after most folk had retired to their beds. A quick look outside her burrow failed to turn up any sign of the Vala, so she continued down the path that ran towards the back of the Inn.

There was a hint of moisture in the air as if it might suddenly rain. With that possibility in mind, she scurried forward more quickly until she came within sight of the hedge that bordered the Dragon on the north, encircling its garden and courtyard. Pulling the small wooden gate outward, she slipped inside and peered about the gardens. She immediately caught sight of him. He was perched on top of a table, his face tilted back as he stared up at the stars with an expression of resignation on his face.

She stumbled up to him wondering what she could possibly say that would explain how she felt and why she and Maura had chosen to do this thing, which had been expressly forbidden to them. Pio always seemed so cool and composed in the presence of the immortals. With Cami, it was different. She felt like a little girl who’d slipped inside a room where she wasn’t supposed to be and was expecting to be tossed out at any minute. Cami opened her mouth to speak, but was stopped by a buzzing within her head.

There’s no need to explain. I’ve been watching. I know what you plan to do, and why the two of you think you’re right. As far as I can see, we have nothing to discuss. You knew the rules under which you came. If you choose to bend or break them, there is nothing I can do.”

He turned away and began to walk off, but she immediately chased after him. Cami had been anticipating several possible responses from the Vala. She’d considered that he might try and reason with her, or become enraged, or even threaten her with physical harm. The one thing she had not expected was this abrupt dismissal, as if she was too small and unimportant to count.

She turned to him with anger spilling over, “This is my life. It’s all I have. We’re trying to do our best, Maura and I. Why can’t you help? Why won’t you even listen to me?”

He looked over at her with a glint of compassion in his eye. I’m sorry, but I can’t. My province is that of dreams. I have done all that I can. I can not change the rules of the universe because I see a woman weeping. Believe me, I have seen many in my time, and I cannot help you, any more than I could help them, even though it may grieve us both.

Cami stumbled over the meaning of his words and felt horribly afraid, “Then Maura and I are on our own? Completely on our own? We can only guess at the right answer.” She remembered Elessar’s confident assertion that the path of right was always straight and true, clear and unchanging to all those who sought it with a good heart. Yet it did not always seem that way to her. Sometimes things seemed very clouded, and she had no idea which way to turn.

Lorien turned to Cami once more, and spoke. This time he used the words of Men so that she would understand exactly what he was saying. “You must make your own decision. I can not tell you what will happen if you break the pledge you made. But remember that you and Maura and your children are not the only ones involved. Gandalf and Bilbo gave their word to the Valar that you could deal with this situation. That the two of you would come here for a moment, and each return to your own Age. It was only because of this promise that we agreed to go ahead. Now you want to change the rules. Be forewarned. Whatever choice you make falls at least partially on the heads of Bilbo and Gandalf as well as your own.”

Without elaborating any further, Lorien reflected that a portion of the responsibility also fell on his own head, since he had heard Gandalf’s words and accepted them as wisdom. Perhaps they had all been wrong.

As Lorien abruptly stalked out the courtyard towards the open road, Cami found herself trembling. But, whether from anger or fear, she did not know. She leaned against the tree and began to cry. It was then that she heard the familiar strains of a lullabye softly coming from around the corner. Cami pushed the gate open and hurriedly scrambled towards the front of the Inn, where she found the Elf sitting on the porch with one of the twins nestled gently in her arms.

Cami hurled her body down on the steps, holding her head in her hands and sobbing, “I can’t do this any more. Whichever way I chose, I hurt someone I love. Why does life have to be this hard?”

Her words came spilling out in torrents as she confided to Pio what had happened and the stern message from the Vala. Cami looked at her friend, knowing that the Elf felt no great affection for Lorien, and wondered what she would say.

[ May 13, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

2 Cermië - just after midnight

‘Look, little wing, the Burning Briar shines bright in the northern skies tonight.’ It was well past midnight, and Pio sat on the steps of the Inn, her daughter lying along her lap. The little one’s grey eyes were open, gazing solemnly upward at her mother’s face.

Pio could see the constellations reflected in the clear pools of her daughter’s eyes. To the east were the Netted Stars, and there just at the corner her eye was Wilwarin. The baby blinked and the stars swirled and disappeared, as the little lids fluttered gently and then closed.

‘Sleep, then,’ she whispered and tucked her into the basket beside her on the porch. Her son stirred, and Pio hoisted him to her shoulder, patting him gently on the back until he settled down again. She cradled him in the crook of her arm and crooned some rhythmic words to him, until he too fell deep into sleep as she rocked him gently.

That was how Cami found her as she scrambled through the gate and stumbled up the steps in tears. Pio put her finger to her lips, and placing her son next to his sister, she drew the distraught Hobbit away from the porch. Clasping her old friend’s hand tightly she walked with her to the nearby chairs beneath the oak tree. Pio leaned toward Cami and wiped the traces of tears from her friend’s face with her sleeve.

Cami sniffed and rubbed her nose; then, the whole story came pouring out with scarcely a breath between thoughts. Pio listened quietly, waiting for the torrent of words to come to an end. And when it did she looked at Cami closely, her face set in an unreadable expression.

‘Let me speak plainly to you, Cami Goodchild, or as plainly as I may.’

Pio leaned back in her chair and cast her mind back to their first meeting, when she had first thought to go with this strange Hobbit who so urgently wished to pursue what Pio thought then no more than a pipedream. How far had they come in friendship since then, and how close had Pio come to severing those bonds through egotistical pride and her desire to make all things right. She had learned several hard lessons along the way, the biggest of which was the natural right of creatures to make their own decisions and then deal with the consequences in their own way. She looked out into the shadows beyond the lights of the Inn, and chose her words carefully.

‘Do you remember what Ancalimon said when choices were made and one or another of us would bemoan the consequences we were sure would lead us to some unrelenting doom?’ Cami looked over at her, waiting for her to go on. ‘He always reminded us that no one can see all ends.’

‘Not even the Valar.’ She paused for just a moment, listening for the soft breathing of the sleeping babies. ‘Only Ilúvatar fully knows the fate of this world and its entangled creatures.’


‘Lorien is wrong when he speaks of the consequences that will come from your decision. He cannot tell you what they will be, because he cannot know them. And even should some of them come to be, he cannot know how those affected by them will choose to deal with them.’

‘It was wrong, too, or so I feel, for Bilbo or Gandalf to make pledges and promises for you or for Maura. None of them knew what would happen when this thread was pulled, not them, not you. Now the thread has woven itself into a different pattern, altogether. And they must choose for themselves how they will handle what comes of what has happened. That is not your task.’

Pio left her seat and crouched down in front of Cami. She placed her hand lightly on Cami’s belly. ‘This little one has chosen you for its mother and Maura for its father. Will you be more gracious than the Valar with their rule-bound gifts, and grant its need to be with both of you freely and without condition?’

‘That, at any rate, is how I see things. How I might make my choices.’ She rocked back on her heels, and held Cami’s hand to her cheek. ‘But my choices are not necessarily yours. No matter - there are no right choices or answers.'

'You are my friend, Cami. I love you. I will stand by you as you need . . .

[ May 10, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

2 Cermië

Cami had long gone home. Nothing had been resolved, and Pio did not expect that it would be. Cami would mull over the choices with Maura and they would make their decision as best they could. That is how decisions in the ordinary world, this ordinary life, were made.

The Valar and their rule-bound gifts! Do you think so poorly of us to say such a thing?

Lorien stepped through the gap in the hedge and approached Pio as she sat nursing her son. It was the wee hours before dawn, the sky still dark, though the stars were beginning to fade before the promise of morning’s light.

You always set people up to fail, or so it seems to me, Lorien. The Valar give with one hand, and forbid with the other. And damned and doomed are we from Eldar to earthworm because we cannot maintain a graceful, grateful balance.

Pio glanced up at the Vala’s face, clear now in the small lantern that hung from the porch beam. It was paler and more drawn than she remembered.

‘Come sit with me,’ she said in a more gentle manner, patting the well-worn boards beside her. ‘And forgive me the harshness of how my words must have sounded to you.’

He gathered up the robes round his slender frame and sat near her, his bare feet resting on the long, wide step below. ‘And yet, the thought behind those words you do not take back, do you?’

Her son, his stomach full, had drifted off to his baby dreamings once again, his little lips slack in sleep. Pio placed a folded blanket along Lorien’s lap and much to the consternation of the Master of Spirits, she settled the boy comfortably along his legs. ‘Just sway your legs gently . . . like this.’ The Vala’s knees went back and forth in a slow rhythm, prompted by a push from Pio’s hands.

Picking up her daughter, she placed her back on her own knees and rocked her, too. ‘No, my thoughts remain the same, Lorien. But you have caught me in a tired state, and they could have been given in a kinder manner.’

She watched as Lorien bent curiously over the baby, one finger exploring the soft hair that curled about his tiny ear, then drifting down to trace the creases in the little palm. The boy, his eyes still closed, grasped tightly the Vala’s slender fingertip. ‘Strong!’ he said softly, as the boy clung to him, then shifting in his sleep, let go.

‘Yes, they are strong in their own way, these Second Born.’ Her hand caressed her daughter’s little one.

Arda is their sphere, now, Lorien. The Elves are sailing West and will fade to some pleasant memory in time, the subjects, perhaps, of some curious and touching story. The stories of Men will be their own.She stroked her daughter’s cheek, watching as the little mouth sought the source of pressure greedily. The Flame that burns in the fëar of Men will make different choices and different paths. Do you not think so?

He was quiet, saying nothing.

Even the Valar, and the memory of them, will fade as the short-lived generations of Men pile one upon the other. That is your fate and mine, Lorien, or so I see it.’

Pio yawned widely, and sighed. ‘I am tired. I need to sleep while these little ones grant me that privilege.’ She laughed softly and placed them both in their carrying basket. Lorien stood, and offered her a hand up. He stooped to pick up the basket and carried it to her rooms, watching as she settled the babies into their cradle.

She walked him to the door. The Inn was still quiet, the only other one up was Cook, who busied herself with the early morning routine of baking, unconcerned about the workings of the world beyond her kitchen.

‘Cami and Maura are probably sleeping fitfully,’ she remarked to him as he stepped out the door, heading for his own room. ‘having spent much of the night working through the decision they must make. Cami will be, even now, worrying how her choices will affect those around her. I can feel her toss and turn in her husband’s arms. Restful sleep eluding her.’

She put her hand out and stayed him as he turned to walk up the stairs. ‘Dreams alone are your dominion, Lorien. So Cami told me were your words to her. If you cannot help her in any other way, then grant her restful ones for now. That the new day will be a little brighter for her.’

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

Child's post:

Lying curled up on her side with her head nestled on Maura's shoulder, Cami stared at the stars through the nearby open window and frantically sifted through the words that Lorien and Pio had entrusted to her, searching for some magical answer to her dilemma. But, no matter how hard she tried, she could not find a solution. The jagged edges of her thoughts kept chasing around within her brain until she somehow managed to fall into a deep, dreamless slumber, from which she did not emerge until mid-morning.

Maura had already been up for some time, tending to Holly's needs and venturing out for a short while into the meadow on the far side of the pond. He'd brought down a nice brace of coneys for lunch and set a pot of stew over the fire along with some carrots and wild onions he and the boys had collected from the day before. After eating, the two of them sat side-by-side discussing what they should do.

They managed to agree on just one thing. They would reach their final decision by nightfall, and, once that decision was made, would not question it or look back. Instead, they would push their deep concerns aside and focus on what little time they had left in the Shire. But they had yet to reach agreement on exactly what that final decision should be.

Cami had begged Maura to come up with an idea, any idea, that might offer some small measure of hope, while still enabling them to honor the promises they'd made to Ancalimon on that snowy night in Dorthonion so very long ago. She'd dismissed Lorien's pointed words about the hardship that might fall on Bilbo and Gandalf because of the promises they had made. Those offers of aid had been freely and lovingly given, but neither she nor Maura had asked for such assistance, or been consulted in any way. She could not be responsible for other people's decisions.

But the pull of friendship was another thing. Gandalf and Bilbo were close to her heart. She had enormous respect for the wizard, and considered Bilbo almost like a father. She could not simply pretend that those feelings didn't exist. Nor did she like to think of herself as a person who backed out of promises just because conditions had changed and made them more difficult to carry out.

Cami shook her head in frustration, and looked over at Maura, reflecting, "Things seemed easier in the prison camps. Yes was yes, and no was no. I knew exactly who the enemy was."

Then she laughed, "Don't you remember the night we found Andreth's journal?" Cami nodded towards the shelf where Maura had placed the book the first night they'd come there. "How excited we were! How we poured over the words of Finrod and the Wise Woman. It seemed to be a magic answer to all the hardship of the camps."

She stopped for a moment to scan the horizon, searching for her young charge, and was not surprised to see that Holly had managed to crawl into the lowest branches of a nearby tree. Cami kept staring intently, but held back from interfering untl she finally saw the girl carefully back down and come scampering towards them again.

Maura chuckled and observed, "You watch her. You watch her all the time, but she never knows that. She just goes about her business and has no idea of how you're guarding her."

Maura's eyes opened wide as he realized what he'd said. Abruptly, he stood up and hurried over to the shelf where Andreth's journal sat. The hobbit thumbed feverishly through its pages until he came upon the passages he wanted, then quickly skimmed over them. Tucking the book under his belt, he turned again to look at his wife, "Cami, I have an idea. I saw you quietly guarding Holly, and then I thought of Andreth's journal and something else that Piosenniel said last night. It's probably foolish. No hobbit of the Third or Fourth Age would even think of such a possibility. Only someone like myself who'd lived among Elves."

Cami looked at him quizically. The only Elf she knew was Piosenniel, and Maura's words didn't seem to make any sense. His grey eyes darted back at her again, "Did you mean it yesterday when you said that Bilbo was like a father to you?"

"A father?" She stopped and reflected seriously a moment. "Yes, I meant it. He has said as much to me. If Frodo is his beloved son and heir, I am the daughter of his heart, and for that I am enormously grateful."

Maura shook his head and began impatiently walking in circles, "And a father has the right to plead for a daughter. Surely even the great powers of the world would feel that way. And especially so for hobbits who regard family as so important."

Cami scratched her head, "What are you talking about? I don't understand a word you're saying."

"I'll explain later. I promise. I need to go to the Inn and have a talk with Frodo and Bilbo."

He gave one last glance back at her and leaned down and kissed her brown curls. "Do not despair, little one. Perhaps this thing is possible. Drop Holly off with Minta. I'll meet you at Sam's. We've a wedding and a party to plan." Then he quickly ran off on the path in the direction of the Green Dragon.

For the next two hours, Maura sat closeted with Frodo and Bilbo as they poured over ancient texts. Bilbo had shot Maura a knowing look, and explained that he'd also been thinking of this for some time now.

They read over the story of Elwing, Earendil's sweet lady who flew in the guise of a snowy white bird to greet her husband's ship so the two could come together again. And especially they studied the tale of Beren and Luthien that offered some measure of comfort and hope. Some power in Arda did seem to be willing to bend the rules for those whose hearts were bound in love.

"Do you think such a plea possible?" Maura grilled Bilbo.

The older hobbit shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Possible, yes. Anything is possible. We have no certainties.
We do not even know what lies beyond. But if it is possible, I will try."

"I don't know," Maura shook his head. "Luthien was a great and beautiful lady, with the blood of the immortals in her veins. Who would consider the plea of two hobbits who are so small in the overall scheme of things?"

It was Frodo who spoke up now. "There is no deserving or earning such a gift. Not by an immortal or anyone else. There is only asking and hoping. What the Elves term estel. But without the asking, we will never know."

With that, the three hobbits quickly put their books away, heading in the direction of Sam's house to discuss party and wedding plans with renewed vigor in their hearts.

[ May 13, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Nurumaiel]

"I'm hungry," Fosco grumbled. "Give me some food, you old meanie." They had untied him for the present because he had complained much too loudly for their taste about how annoying the ropes were getting, but they were still keeping a careful eye on him. Ferny unconsciously reached down and rubbed his knee.

"You won't have no food for awhile," he grumbled back. "You've already eaten half the food we've got in just this day. You sit back and shut your mouth. You're getting really annoying."

"Not as annoying as you are," Fosco shot back. "I bet you're really fat and you're just hiding it. I bet you sneak in the middle of the night to eat up half the food. I haven't eaten hardly anything, and I bet - "

Ferny raised a hand, threatening to slap the boy, but Fosco looked evenly up at him and kept on making accusations. Bill retreated to a separate corner of the room where Stoatie was laughing and jeering. He limped still, and as he got closer to Stoatie he told him with the look on his face that if he didn't stop making fun he'd go and deal with him, sore leg or no.

The door was pushed open and another of Bill's henchmen came in, a strange smile on his face, suggesting both wicked glee and some doubt. Casting a wary eye at Fosco, who had given him a piece of his mind earlier as a result of an angry scolding, he rushed across the room to Ferny, panting and out of breath. "I've just been spying about," he said, "and I'm got myself a valuable piece of information."

"You've got me some, you mean," said Ferny with a snort. "Come on, what is it? And what do you think you were doing spying without permission from me?"

"I thought it would be a good idea and I wanted to get away from that brat," the man muttered. "But that Elf that the brat told you about… she's had her twins, you see, and I thought you might be interested in that." He looked smugly at Ferny.

"Stoatie, come 'ere a minute," said Ferny, a strange expression coming onto his face. "What do you think would happen if those twins were to… disappear?"

A wicked look came to Stoat's face, and he grinned. "A lot of panic for the parents, I'd say."

"No, no, don't be so daft," Ferny cried. Grasping Stoatie's shoulder, he looked straight into the other's eyes. "Listen here, Old Stoat. I'm not here to capture a bunch of brats and make their parents cry. I'm here for one purpose: To get Frodo Baggins. I want you to tell me what he would think of the business."

"Wouldn't like it too much, I suppose," he said uncertainly.

"Would it affect him personally?"

"Well, it would be a blow to the parents, and in that case it would hurt maybe the brat's mother, and then it would hurt Bilbo Baggins, and then it would hurt Frodo." He stopped and looked up at Ferny. "I think Baggins would be affected by it."

"Do you know what I want you to do?" Ferny asked. Unbeknownst to him Fosco had crept through the shadows and was now standing behind the two.

"Kidnap the twins?"

"And bring them back here as fast as you can."

"Now?"

"No, wait. We have to do some more spying and make sure we do this right." He made a significant pause, then said sternly, "This is important."

"Don't worry, Ferny," Stoat said wickedly. "Those two kids can say goodbye to their parents."

"Don't touch those babies!" came the bloodcurdling scream, and Ferny and Stoat suddenly felt that they were saying goodbye to their legs, which were being kicked, bitten, and hurt in every other way possible.

"Get him!" Ferny gasped. "Get the brat. Tie him up! QUICK!!!" But the rest never got up enough courage to stop Fosco before Ferny and Stoat were both covered with bruises and the little hobbit decided they'd be extremely stupid to go after the babies after the lesson he'd given them. Retreating to his side of the room, he shouted to them he'd do it again if they ever mentioned kidnapping the babies, and that they weren't smart enough too, anyway. Ferny lay on the ground, his legs too bruised to stand up, and he muttered in Stoatie's direction, "I'm going to get those babies if it's the last thing I do… just to prove to that brat that he's wrong."

[ May 13, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Orual]

The sun streamed in through the windows of Bag End, where Sam, Rose, Bilbo, Cami, and Maura sat around the table in the den. "Of course we'll host the party," Sam said. He glanced at Rose, and he could see in her eyes and in the way she was suddenly glancing around the room that she was already making plans for the festivities. "We can have a welcoming ceremony for Piosenniel's twins, then we can have the wedding."

"Cami, what would you like for the wedding?" Rose asked, turning slowly in her chair. It was becoming more and more difficult, and she was looking forward to her own little one coming.

"Something simple," Cami replied. "Maybe an exchange of vows in the garden."

"Do you have a dress to wear?" Rose asked, obviously going over all of the possible dresses that she knew of, in case Cami did not.

Cami smiled. "I have a green and yellow dress that used to belong to Bilbo's mother, so that's taken care of."

"Good, good. Now the dinner? Shall we have it catered from somewhere? I know of a couple of places, but the best place I know of is a little far away. We could get word there, but we'd have to do it soon."

Cami looked thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, I'd prefer
something of a pot-luck. Everyone could bring a dish. We wouldn't have to go out of our way to get the catering done, and it always tastes better from home, doesn't it?"

Rose nodded approvingly. "That would be wonderful. And Sam, you'll bring the register, won't you?"

"Of course," Sam replied, looking up from his own conversation with Bilbo and Maura. "I'll bring it here and you and Maura can sign it, Cami. That can come whenever you wish--just a little civil ceremony."

Rose smiled at Cami. "We want this to be perfect for the two of you. Now, let's talk about flowers. What kind of flowers do you like best?..."


Child's post

Rose had taken Cami on a short stroll through the garden to point out some of the flowers they might consider using. To Cami, the gardens at Bag-end looked much the same as they had when she was a child. She remembered helping Sam clean out the beds a few times, and getting a stern reprimand from her friend for managing to pull out the flowers instead of the weeds.

She and Rose chatted back and forth until they finally reached agreement on what they would use for the party. The selection of flowers was considered a serious matter among most hobbit brides. Some even argued that a couple's future happiness was dependent upon the choices they made. It was not only the beauty of the blossoms that needed to be kept in mind, but what every flower symbolized or meant.

Cami would take her vows under the old wicker trellis at the side of the house where white and red roses grew intertwined. These traditional blossoms were seen as a harbinger of unity and marital love. At the tables in the garden where folk would sit to eat, Rose would set out small pots with primroses and wood sorrell in honor of the birth of the twins and the love that Pio bore for them. Finally, on the larger table inside where the food would be placed, they'd have an arrangment with branches of white hawthorne, the universal representation of hope. Cami's own bouquet would be simple and small, a few blue and yellow violets tied with a ribbon to symbolize faithfulness and the sweetness of a life spent in the countryside.

When Cami and Rose finally finished their tour of the garden and all their deliberations, Maura and the others came out of the house and indicated they were ready to leave. The hobbits said their goodbyes, thanking Sam and his family, and set out on the return path to Bywater, promising to meet again at Bag-end for the party in just six days' time.

[ May 13, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

2 Cermië

Night or day made no difference to the twins. Their little lives and hers were ruled by hunger and comfort sandwiched between short periods of sleep. ‘The baby’s schedule is the mother’s schedule,’ she recalled Cook telling her. She had not understood then, but now the truth of it penetrated deeply her weary bones.

Gilly rose early and took the babies from their cradle. They fussed as she picked them up and put them in their carry basket, but settled down comfortably, nestling in close together. She took them into the kitchen, where Prim and Buttercup promptly snatched up one each, holding them close and breathing in their sweet, new baby smell.

‘We’re going to Amaranthas’ house today. Their first outing. I thought I’d let Mistress Piosenniel sleep a little longer while I got them washed up a bit and changed and ready to go.’

‘Ooh, let me help,’ chimed in Buttercup, handing the girl back to Gilly. ‘I'll get the dishpan ready and we’ll get them squeaky clean.’ Warm water, tested by the elbow method filled the shallow pan, a soft towel cushioning the metal bottom. The babies were quickly stripped and hurried into the warm water. Washed with sweet smelling soap and gently laved with water, they took the process in solemnly, seeming to enjoy the touch of water and soft hands on their skin. From the bath they were quickly swaddled in thick towels and dried thoroughly.

Gilly produced two outfits that Amaranthas had made and soft booties knitted by Cami. Buttercup smoothed the damp, dark curls into place, and wrapped each lightly in a little blanket. By then the twins were fully awake and actively looking for the next meal. They began to cry softly and then a little louder, and more insistently.

Cook dipped the ends of two thick kitchen towels into some sweetened water and popped one each into the expectant baby mouths. Satisfied, at least for a moment, the little ones settled in to suck on the sweet offering.

‘Go wake Miz Pio, and tell her to take her time getting ready. We’ll keep the wee ones satisfied until she’s ready to take over.’ Cook cradled the boy in her arms and rocked gently back and forth as she piled a small plate with fruited muffins and cheese, placing it on a tray with a large mug of sweetened tea. ‘Here, take this to her and tell her to eat up. We’ll get Hob to get the cart hitched up for you.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Pio smiled as she stepped into the kitchen. The four Hobbits were completely wrapped up in vying for the right to hold the babies next. Gilly, knowing she would have them the rest of the day, had ceded her turn to Buttercup, who grinned from ear to ear as she examined the little creature on her lap, and kissed each of her fingertips. Prim had wrested the boy from Cook, who hovered nearby, nonetheless, her hands aching to take him back. ‘There’s just something about holding a baby,’ said Cook, a remarkably soft look on her face. ‘You just can’t get enough of it.’

The four turned as Pio cleared her throat, drawing their attention to her presence. Prim sighed and looked wistful as she reluctantly handed the baby to his mother. ‘You’ve been so kind to let me sleep in a little, Prim. Let me nurse him a little, then you can have him back while his sister eats.’ Prim brightened at this prospect, but her hopes were dashed when Cook reminded her it was her turn to hold him.

Buttercup nudged Gilly, and leaning close, whispered in her ear. ‘Pio should have had three babies – one for each of us to hold!’

Pio laughed and shook her head at the remark. ‘Two babies is quite enough, Buttercup!’ She handed the boy, his hunger now satisfied, back to Cook, and reached for the girl.

[ May 12, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

2 Cermië

‘Let Elanor and Rose keep Gilly company for now, Pio.’ Amaranthas handed the Elf a glass of cool cider, drawing her attention away from where the Sam’s two girls vied for a turn to hold the babies. ‘I’ve heard some news from the Boffin boys I wanted to talk about with you.’

The three ‘boys’, as she referred to them – Minto, now thirty-five years of age, and his two barely younger brothers had just come back from one of their twice a year trips to Bree-land. ‘Picking up a prize brood sow to pair with their boar, I think. Should have some fine hams and bacon come from that.’ While there, they had gone to The Prancing Pony to stay the night and catch up on local news.

‘It was odd, this time they said. They hadn’t been to the Pony in a good six months. It was different, or so it seemed to them. Not a lot of mingling between the Hobbit folk and the Big Folk. The Bree Hobbits talked in hushed tones about an increase in traffic through the area – scruffy men with an ill-favored look about them. Many of them seeking to join up with one of the Big Folk, one Bill Ferny.’

Pio looked questioningly at Amaranthas. ‘Bill Ferny? You speak as if you know of him?’

‘He’s a bad one, that shifty-eyed ruffian! A mean Man of the worst sort. Got involved during the Big War with that Sharkey fellow. Worked for him at one time as the warden for the Buckland Gate. His poxy thoughts have been festering ever since old Sharkey’s fellows were taken care of by the Hobbits here in the Shire. Ferny’s hated us Shire folk ever since is my opinion, and now he’s got something nasty going to get back at us. The Minto boys say it’s the general opinion among the Bree Hobbits that Ferny’s got his hand deep into these kidnappings and trouble making.’

‘How dangerous is he?’ Pio leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she waited for Amaranthas’ answer.

‘By my books, he’s a schemer mostly, wants power and uses others to get it for him.’ Amaranthas sat back, taking a long drink of cider to freshen her dry throat. ‘He’s a weasely sort, I think. He’d be more likely to get some low sorts, muscle bound oafs with straw for brains, to do his dirty work for him. Though if need be, I think he could do in whoever stood in his way.’ Pio rubbed the back of her neck at the picture Amaranthas was painting for her. She willed herself to relax, knowing that Bird and Mithadan would be as careful as they could.

The twins could be heard fussing, despite the rocking and cooing the two girls were doing for them. Pio motioned Gilly to bring them to her – it was probably time for a feed and a rest.

She turned the conversation to a lighter subject as she nursed the babies. Amaranthas, as well as Elanor and Rose were happy to fill her in on what they new of the party that was in the works. Rose, especially, was a never ending source of information. With her charming demeanor, she was often innocently overlooked, and her little ears took in many conversations and idle comments. She loved to gossip and share what she had learned, and it was quite funny at times the way she presented her information – having misheard or misunderstood what she listened in on.

Late afternoon saw Frodo lad come to fetch his sisters. Miz Rose wanted her chicks home before even a hint of darkness fell. Safe and snug in their own burrow. Beyond the reach of any who might seek to do them harm.

Gilly and Pio stayed with Amaranthas for an early supper. And though she insisted she needed no help, they stayed to help her wash up and dry the dishes.

‘You know, Amaranthas,’ said Pio, crying the last of the mugs and placing it in the cupboard with its fellows, ‘I am not sure I will come to the party. It will be a long affair and the babies will be fussy, and I will start yawning just before noon, my eyes drooping and my interest flagging.’ She folded the dish towel, and hung it over the bar on the edge of the counter. ‘Perhaps I should just send Gilly to accompany you.’

Amaranthas told Pio that was the most harebrained idea she’d heard all day. ‘Of course you’re coming to the party,’ she said firmly to the Elf. ‘And when you and the babies are tired, you can all come over to my house and nap as long as you wish. It’s only a short walk to Sam’s, and you simply cannot miss your friends’ public exchange of vows. Not to mention all the people who will want to see your little ones.’

Gilly chimed in with how she wouldn’t mind bringing the twins to Amaranthas' if they got too tired, telling Pio it would be no trouble at all to watch over them and bring them back when they were rested.

Pio laughed, knowing when she was beaten, and relented. ‘We will all come, then!’ She gave Amaranthas a hug and gathering up her children loaded them and herself into the cart, letting Gilly take the reins and get them back to the Inn..

[ May 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami watched slyly from behind a tree as Gilly unhitched the pony and led him forward to the stables. She remained hidden while Pio stepped down from the wagon with one child cradled in her arms and the other tucked securely in a sling. She could see the Elf pass through the common room, nod her head in Cook's direction, and continue towards her own bedchamber, clearly intent on snatching a few moments of rest.

Before Pio could shut the door or lie down on her bed, Cami came bounding up with an impish expression on her face, "I heard that, Piosenniel. Threatening to stay away from the party and not even see me properly wed. You're in trouble! I'll get those ill-natured hobbits who have no love for the Big Folk to come and sit outside your window and sing rowdy bar tunes to keep the babies awake all night."

Cami painted a mock scowl on her face, struggling to keep from breaking down in laughter. Then she explained how they'd just left Bag-end and passed by Amaranthas' place on their way back to the Inn. The hobbit pointed an accusing finger at her friend. "If you go announcing your plans at the top of your lungs, don't be surprised when everyone in the Shire hears what you;re doing. And just so you understand. I'll personally drag you over to the party if you dare to stay behind."

"By the way," she continued, without pausing to take a breath, "I hope you haven't included Lorien on your guest list. I'd just as soon avoid him for a while." Cami looked down at her toes, then peered cautiously back at Pio, expecting that the Elf would invite her to explain. When Pio cocked one eyebrow and glanced curiously at Cami, the hobbit lowered her voice and moved closer to her friend.

"Actually, we have decided." With this, she told about Maura's visit to Frodo and Bilbo, and how her teacher had agreed to bring her plea forward to be heard within the very hall of Mandos, and perhaps, just perhaps, even far beyond, since the Valar themselves seemed powerless to help.

"Of course, we don't know what's possible." Cami stared out the window at the vast blue expanse that encircled the shores of Arda, as if she expected someone to appear who would provide the answer she so desperately desired.

Then she shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "Perhaps nothing. I scarcely look or act like Luthien, and I have no special merits for such a gift. I expect Maura and I will end up just where we started. Apart and grieving. But still, it's something to cling to for a while."

"Perhaps if I were different...." Cami's voice trailed off into wistful silence as she glanced over at her friend. Perhaps, I would be certain of myself, able to act out of love, but without nagging thoughts on what came before. But I can not, and neither can my husband. Yes, the child tugs at our hearts, even now. But he is a gift. A gift that comes from somewhere beyond our small knowing. And wherever that gift comes from, I owe some debt of gratitude. I can not fling aside my word which I gave in all solemnity.

But still, there is hope in this. And who knows what will come of Bilbo's plea? For it does seem that whoever wove the silken threads that bind us together within the circles of Arda, that Power has given special heed to lovers, and only reluctantly sunders their hearts.

"But now, enough of that. We have a party to prepare." Then Cami set aside these other concerns and cheerfully launched into an extended discussion about her flowers and dress and how everyone, even Piosenniel, would be expected to bring one of their favorite dishes to share with the other guests at Bag-end.

[ May 14, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan and Bird packed their things and took to the road a day after arriving in Bree. After some inquiries, they determined that Ferny's plantation lay outside Bree's fence to the south and east of Bree-Hill. They passed quickly through the town and exited by the east Gate keeping to the road initially. Though there would likely be a cart path to the plantation, they chose to leave the road to do some scouting about.

"You didn't shave," commented Bird as they walked. "I'd think that you'd take advantage of the Pony's amenities before leaving."

Mithadan rubbed at his emerging beard. "A few days growth makes me appear a bit more rascally, don't you think?" he answered. "And remember, Fosco and I met at the dinner party, if only briefly. I'd rather have the slight disguise of a beard if I run into the lad."

They soon approached farmlands where various crops were being grown. They skirted around the fences encircling the farms to avoid any uneeded contact with the locals or their dogs. After passing a number of farms, they encountered a taller, well-built fence behind which were planted broad-leafed and aromatic crops. Mithadan did not recognize the plants but Bird did. "Pipeweed," she said. "Looks to be of fair quality, though not as good as that of the Shire."

This farm was larger than most they had passed and they could see a number of people, all Men, working in the fields. "This may be it," said Mithadan. "The road must be to the east on the north side of the plantation. Shall we take a look about before we present ourselves at the front gate?" Bird nodded.

Finding a spot where the fence posts had become rotten, they pulled the boards out and entered. Keeping to the perimeter of the farm, they headed off towards the south. It appeared that Ferny's plantation covered several acres. Eventually the crops gave way to bare ground and they halted at the fringe. Before them were a series of shacks and sheds, likely for the keeping of tools and supplies. At least one appeared to be occupied. They could not approach these buildings in the daylight without being seen so they turned back.

After an hour's walk, they were nearing the gap they had created in the fence when they heard barking to their right. Two large dogs burst out from the plant-covered fields, followed by three Men carrying cudgels. Mithadan and Bird stopped but made no move to defend themselves. "Trespassers!" snarled one of the Men. "Ferny doesn't care for strangers on his fields."

Mithadan smiled, though one of the dogs was sniffing suspiciously at him. "Ferny you say?" he said. "We're looking for a Mister Ferny. We're looking for work and were told he might take us on."

"People looking for work would normally enter through the front gate rather than climbing a fence, now wouldn't they?" growled another. He pointed at Mithadan's sword. "Now take off that pretty sticker and hand it over. If you want Ferny, you'll see him soon enough, though I'll warrant that he might not give you the reception you're looking for."

Mithadan removed his scabbard from his belt and handed his sword over. But he grinned again. "There you go," he said. "We didn't mean no harm. Just thought Ferny might have some use for us...and maybe that." He pointed to the blade being held by Ferny's Men. "Let's go! Take us to Mister Ferny..."

[Nurumaiel]

Ferny's men eyed the two suspiciously, glancing at each other now and then. "I don't think we can do that," one of them spoke up. "Ferny never told us he had hired two new men."

"And if he didn't hire you, then you have no business being here!" the other practically shouted.

"That's very true!" the first shouted, and they began arguing with no one, it seemed, for Mithadan and Bird didn't reply until the henchmen's voices began to grow hoarse.

"What if he did hire us?"

The two stopped talking and looked at each other. "Well..." It was clear that they were confused now. It was also clear that Ferny hadn't chosen the brightest of his men to be on watch. They stared at each other stupidly and stared at the two intruders, unsure of what to say.

"Why don't you just let us see Ferny?" Mithadan asked patiently.

"You can't just barge in!" the second of the men shouted, though nobody was barging in.

The door to the house opened and Stoatie came out, limping terribly and his face red with rage. "Stop screaming out there, would you?" he shouted. "The brat has gone to sleep and at last things are starting to be peaceful." For the first time he noticed Mithadan and Bird. "Who are these two?" he asked warily, advancing.

"I don't know, but they want to work for Ferny. What should we do about them?"

[ May 16, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[ May 21, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

4 Cermië

But still, there is hope in this. And who knows what will come of Bilbo's plea? For it does seem that whoever wove the silken threads that bind us together within the circles of Arda, that Power has given special heed to lovers, and only reluctantly sunders their hearts.

These words had been rolling around in Pio’s head since Cami had last spoken to her. Perhaps it was lack of sleep, or her distrustful nature, but today’s image which accompanied these words was that of two small hearts skewered on a sword.

Estel! What kind of clap-trap was that! Some tricksy concept of the immortals that mortals are expected to buy into.

What small faith she had in this word had nearly vanished when she considered her finite end and that of her children now. How easy it was to bandy that word about when one did not have death staring you in the face every day.

What arrogance was it that I ever lectured Cami on estel!

Pio’s thoughts and desire for action warred with her friendship and resolve to let her friend make her own choices. To see Cami so happy in her momentary allotment of joy made her sad beyond measuring, and in her heart she railed against the unjustness of it.

She brought her fist down with a satisfying thunk! on the table. Flour flew everywhere.

‘If you punch that dough any harder, I doubt a stone-troll could get his teeth through it!’ Cook’s words rang through her dark reverie, and looking down she saw she had reduced the ball of pie crust dough to a thin, shredded layer, a great part of which was in danger of falling from the edge of the table.

Pio rubbed the back of her hand across her nose and cheek, chasing an itch that sprang up with the invasion of her nose by the flying flour. Chagrined, she looked up, a chevron of flour and grease striping her cheek where her hand had passed. She shook her head at Cook and sighed. Gathering up the thoroughly beaten dough, she wadded it into a misshapen ball and lobbed it into the garbage bucket.

‘Try it again,’ said Cook, snorting at the sorry looking Elf. ‘This time focus on the job in front of you and don’t let your thoughts go wandering all over the place.’ Pio raised her brows at this directive.

Cook set the flour and butter in front of her again, and shrugged. ‘Must have been something unpleasant that crossed your mind. Your face looked like a dark thundercloud. Half expected to see lighting flash out from those storm dark eyes and turn the dough to cinders!’ She retrieved a bowlful of blackberries from the pantry, placing it and the sugar canister in front of Pio. ‘Might want to sweeten the filling a bit,’ she said dryly, ‘as well as sweetening your disposition! Not good for those babies to be drawing sour milk from a sour mother!’

Pio rubbed her forehead, then broke out in a laugh. ‘Is there no bottom to your well of baby wisdom?!’ She reached for the bowl of berries and sugared it with a liberal hand, sprinkling a few grains for good measure on her tongue as she stuck it out at Cook.

Cook shook the rolling pin at her in mock-menace. ‘Back to work!’ she cried. ‘I’ve promised myself you’ll have a passable, if not admirable pie, to take to Cami’s wedding picnic. Now hurry it up, I want to serve it for supper. We’ll see what the diners in the Dragon think of it tonight, then we’ll practice another tomorrow.’ Cook handed her the crockery cup she used for measuring and pushed the bowl for pie crust closer to the novice baker.

Pio bent to the task at hand, and turned her thoughts away from estel. She grinned impishly at the mound of flour and butter sitting innocently in the bowl, and sent out a quiet plea as she squished the ingredients between her long, strong fingers.

‘May the grace of the Valar be with you!’ Eru knows you are probably going to need it by the time I am finished with you.

The fat, sugared blackberries caught a stray beam of sunlight from the window and winked back at her.

Cook rolled her eyes as her ears caught the softly muttered oath, wondering if she should stir up a batch of cookies in case the second pie met the fate of the first.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami was singing cheerfully to herself as she bustled about the small kitchen in the burrow. Her hands moved deftly over her work as she set the final touches on a fine array of deserts and main dishes, some of which she'd prepared for the picnic and others for the needs of her own family. She had two buttermilk pies cooling on the ledge and four loaves of egg bread piled up on the table, each braided into an intricate circular design.

She carefully crimped the crusts, then began deboning and cutting up the venison for two additional meat pies. She halted for a moment as the cadence of two familiar voices caught her ear, wafting in through the open window. She set down the butcher's knife and glanced up to see Maura push open the door and come over to greet her with a warm hug. Frodo walked in directly behind him, carrying several bags of tasty nut-brown field-mushrooms that Gamba and his brothers had collected earlier in the morning when they'd gone walking in the woods.

Cami held out one knife for Maura and another for Frodo and had the hobbits start cleaning and chopping the mushrooms. In very short order, the two finished their job so that Cami was able to put together the ingredients for the last of her pies, popping them into the oven and sitting down to rest.

"I should run down to the Inn. Please remember to take out the pies for dinner," she instructed. Every afternoon, Cami visited the Dragon to play with the twins and find out if Pio had heard anything more about what had happened to her daughter, as well as to Bird and Mithadan. Usually, there was little news, but Cami was careful to check just in case her friend picked up any information through osanwe or the loose tongues of visitors who were staying at the Inn.

Maura turned and grinned broadly, "I'd wait on that if I were you. Frodo and I went by the kitchens. Your friend looked as if she was being tortured. She'd apparently been at it for some time, and was having trouble coming up with a dish that met Cook's exacting standards."

Cami looked concerned and shook her head. She could never understand why someone like Pio who was so competent at so many things, and had tremendous gifts of organization, would have such difficulty when it came to simple chores like baking and cooking. Cami remembered the one or two occasions when Pio had actually prepared supper on the Star. Most of the crew had ended up dumping their plates into the trash cans and scavenging about in the kitchens later in the evening for more food. Like most hobbit girls, Cami had taken in these skills at her mother's knee even before she'd formally learned how to read or write.

"Perhaps, I'd best go help her," Cami noted.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," replied Maura. "She might not like admitting she needs help."

Cami shrugged off her husband's concerns and decided to see if her friend could use some assistance. As she headed out the door, Cami could vaguely hear the thwack of wood-on-wood coming from behind the burrow as Frodo and Maura dueled with practice swords. For the past few days, Maura had taught Frodo a number of tricks in swordplay as well as sharing hints on how to creep up on an opponent to surprise him.

At heart, Frodo Baggins still hated to handle weapons. Even so, Cami could sense that he'd decided it was better to be prepared for any eventuality. The kidnappings in the Shire and the continuing rumors about evil Big Folks on the loose were clearly on his mind.

Neither had Cami forgotten the threat that hung over all their heads. She'd been careful to keep the children closer to her than usual, and lectured Gamba on the need for caution and restraint. She'd also put in more time on weapons' practice than she'd ever done before. Maura had been insistent that she learn to handle a knife as well as the bow. When she pressed him for an explanation, he had skillfully changed their topic of conversation. The bandits were certainly part of the puzzle, but Cami thought there might be something else involved that he wasn't revealing to her.

After hours of additional practice, Cami found that her ability to defend herself with a bow and knife was indeed improving. She would never reach the level of skill of someone like her own daughter Rose, but she'd gotten to the point where Maura had begun pressing her to learn to use a sword. When she'd groaned and stubbornly refused, he had flashed her a stern eye and a quiet warning, "Have it your own way for now, but, one way or another, I'll get you to do this."

She'd tried to press him again for an explanation, but he only stared at Holly, refusing to say anything further. Cami was still trying to puzzle out his behavior when she arrived at the Inn and got her first glimpse of Pio hard at work in the kitchen, buried under a mountain of flour.

[ May 16, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

4 Cermië

Cook pinched the bridge of her nose, shut her eyes, and gave a barely audible sigh. Where did I put the willow-bark powder?’ she thought, her hand straying up to rub her temples.

The second pie was turning out no better than the first. The Elf’s thoughts had strayed after a short time to Bree and what Mithadan, Bird, and Rose were doing there. All thoughts of pie making fled as she attempted to contact Bird or Mithadan and found she could not. Which meant in her mind they had made contact and were busy, or something worse had happened. She turned her thoughts away from that dark path, only to find she had added far too many cups of flour to the dough, and the sorry mess was beyond recouping.

Pio sat down in the kitchen chair near her and shrugged up at Cook. ‘I give up! I have been bested by flour and butter. The good folk at Cami’s party will simply have to eat an offering of berries unadorned!’ She could hear Cook muttering in the pantry as she searched for the headache powder, ‘Well, I suppose she can’t muck up plain fruit, too much!’

A soft giggle came from the open door. Pio glanced up through the still settling haze of flour. ‘Get in here, Cami Goodchild, or should I say Cami Took, now. Seems more fitting.’ Cami’s cheeks crimsoned a bit as she stepped forward, and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the messy table-top. ‘Lost a battle, Elf?’ she said, barely stifling another chuckle. Pio tossed a rag to her and pushed the garbage bucket close under the table’s edge.

The flour and macerated dough were scraped from the table top and the last of the tenacious residue thoroughly washed off. Pio threw some tea leaves in a pot and filled it with water, just off the boil. ‘See! I can cook!’ she said smugly. Cami rolled her eyes and said nothing.

Two clean mugs later, a pot of honey, and a plate of the ‘just-in-case’ cookies, the two old friends were sitting happily at the table, sharing what little news they had.

‘I know you would like to hear something about Rose. But I have not been able to contact Mithadan, much less Bird.’ An image of Bird with her fingers stuck in her ears, in hopes of blocking out the Elf, played in her mind for a moment, bringing a smile to her lips. ‘I am relying on no news being good news at this point.’

Cami looked at her doubtfully, behind the matter-of-fact words she heard a brief shadow of doubt. She was about to ask a question to pursue the matter when Gilly arrived with the babies.

‘Oh good! I hoped I would find you here. I promised Sam that I would help Elanor with some of the preparations for the party. You two can handle the twins for a couple of hours. I should be back by then.’ Gilly handed one each to the pair at the table and rushed out the kitchen door to the stable.

Cami’s news was filled mostly with plans for the party. She was and rambled on happily for a long space of time. Pio tried to match her level of enthusiasm to her friend’s, but failed. She listened with half an ear as Cami talked, her thoughts twisting with plans of her own and with worry.

It was some time before she realized that Cami had quit speaking and was sitting across the table from her, an exasperated look on her face.

‘You look as gloomy as Maura today. All worried and distracted from what is going on around you.’ Cami looked closely at her friend. ‘A Shire penny for your real thoughts.’

‘Better – a penny for your thoughts, Cami. Why is Maura so gloomy?’

Once the Elf had turned the conversation, Cami knew it was futile to try to refocus it. She shrugged her shoulders and spoke how intent he was on having her learn the use of weapons. He had pushed her to better herself with bow and knife, and she had done so, reluctantly. She had dug her heels in, though, at the mention of learning to use a sword.

Pio’s eyes brightened at the words ‘learning to use a sword’. Finally, here was a skill she could help with. She topped off her friends cup of tea and pushed the cookies toward her.

‘You know, Cami, both Mithadan and I have urged you to learn the use of a blade other than your knife. Now Maura is urging you to do so. Save me from another round with unforgiving pie crusts, and let us take the babies out for some fresh air while I show you a few basics.’

Cami opened her mouth to speak, but Pio settled the other baby in her arms and ran to find a suitably sized blade. Cook, noting that Pio was well out of earshot, cast a pleading look at Cami.

‘Please! Do take the Elf outside with you. Let her do something she is good at. My flour supply cannot stand another assault today.’ Her eyes gleamed with decision. ‘You occupy her for the rest of the afternoon, and I will make my Gran’s secret recipe for your and Maura’s hand-fasting. Layered leek and wild mushroom casserole with Old Winyards in the sauce.’

‘And some pies?’ asked Cami, driving as hard a bargain as she dared with Cook.

‘Two pies, Miz Cami, and a poppy seed cake with raspberry jam filling to boot.’ Cook looked expectantly at the reluctant Hobbit.

‘I know I’ll regret this. But you’ve got yourself a deal, Vinca Bunce!’ Cami stood, juggling the twins with one arm, and offered Cook her hand.

Pio, her own blade now in a plain leather scabbard strapped to her waist, came through the swinging doors just as the two Hobbits finalized their deal. ‘What is this? What sort of deal have you struck with Cook, Cami?’

A broad smile on her face, and her headache now quite evaporated in the handshake, Cook put her arm round Cami’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. ‘You’ll be pleased to know that Miz Cami has given her full hearted consent to an afternoon of sword practice with you. She sees the “need” for it now, and is eager to begin.’

Cook pushed Cami forward.

[ May 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[theWhiteLady]

A cheerful sun flickered and danced playfully behind tall clouds. Rose Goodchilde watched as they passed overhead, and marveled how alike they seemed to the ship she had once called home. She was a majestic sight, soaring over the seas with a methodical pace, faster than one at first realized, but always with a powerful grace. How she longed to be held once more in the embrace of that vessel, a shield from the fickle sea, and to be a part of the crew it had carried. With everyone working together, it had seemed more like a family than a motley assortment of the most unusual characters. But, Rose thought with a sigh, everyone was now scattered, both through time and space. The time Cami and Maura had together had together weighed heavily on Rose’s thoughts of late, but she was now forced to abandon her worried reflections and concentrate on the task before her. It almost seemed a relief to be out of the way, as she saw herself, and allow them some time to be alone.

Rose had spent the day familiarizing herself with the streets of Bree; new places had always held a fascination for her, and she only faintly remembered a visit to the town when she was very young. The common room of the Inn had been quiet, so she had sought refuge in a small garden just off the side of her rooms. A quaint bench, conveniently placed by the path, seemed to be inviting the young hobbit to rest, so she had sat down gratefully and lapsed into thought.

A pair of feet plodding quietly brought Rose to attention, and she was relieved to see one of the hobbits from the night before, Toman, she though she remembered another call him, appear from behind a bright batch of sunflowers.

“Hello!” He greeted her with surprise. Rose returned the greeting and asked him to sit beside her for a moment. “Thank you,” he replied with a friendly smile. They began to talk of the weather, and after several minutes of small conversation, Rose was able to turn the conversation to the subject of the kidnappings. She remembered his words from last night, and could not risk passing up an such a perfect opportunity to learn more. After inquiring more about Ferny, her eyes began to widen as the red-haired hobbit spoke. Rose began to remember hearing his name in Cami’s tales of the War of the Ring, and Toman backed up that memory. “He was ruined after Sharkey was killed, so they say. Left town in a hurry, but came back to Bree after a few years to live quietly until now. He certainly still hates us hobbits anyway; he would have had it nice under Sharkey if the Shire hadn’t been raised against him and his ruffians. I suppose he still holds a grudge, and a nasty one at that. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to get revenge, if he could figure out one person to blame for it all.”

Rose sat back, and tried to take it all in. Toman shook his head, stood, and stretched. “Still, nothing can be proved, he’s done nothing against the law, it’s really just the ways he treats us and the rumors one hears.” Shaking her curls thoughtfully, Rose got up as well and made her way back into the inn with Toman. He tried to cheer her up, mistaking her silence to be caused by worry, by offering to buy her a drink but she declined in favor of seeking her room and parted, wondering how she would reach Mithadan and Bird with this news.

[piosenniel]

4 Cermië

‘It would probably be more advantageous if you did not sigh quite so much Cami.’ Pio, her eyes glinting with mischief, looked critically at the Hobbit as Cami strapped on the extra vambraces given her. ‘Unless, of course, you mean for your foe to find some measure of concern for you and pitying you, throw down his weapons and surrender.’

Cami glared at the Elf, and pulled the straps tighter round her forearms. Pio gave her a wooden stave, the same length as the blade she had picked out for her. And pointing her own stave to a position several feet in front of her, she bade Cami take the same stance she had dropped into and raise her stave just so.

‘I will show you the proper ways to meet my advances on you and turn them. And after that, the proper ways for you to advance on me with an attack.’ Pio dipped her head slightly to Cami and the exercise began.

They worked slowly, back and forth across the Inn yard for the better part of an hour. Cami’s reflexes were good and she followed the instructions well. A short break, Cook had sent out cold drinks a plate of fruit for the two combatants, allowed Cami to regain some of her energy and Pio time to nurse to babies into a drowsy, happy state.

Snuggling the babies into their basket carrier, Pio placed them in the shade and pulled a light blanket over them. Tapping Cami on the back as she sat on the steps chewing on apple slices, she urged her friend to her feet, and threw her stave to her. ‘Let’s pick up the pace a little now.’

The back and forth sallies quickened, and the sharp crack of wood on wood could be heard beating out a rapid rhythm. Both combatants landed a fair number of blows on each other’s arms, though Cami wondered if these ‘lucky’ blows on her part were simply a ploy on the part of Pio to keep her going.

A number of patrons from the Inn had come out to lean on the porch railing, drinking their half-pints and commenting favorably on Cami’s ‘bladework’. As usual, a friendly round of wagering began, with the odds on favorite being the Elf to strike the most blows.

There was a general gasp from the crowd and then silence, when Pio announced to Cami it was time to get the feel of her steel. Again they took positions and went slowly through the paces, allowing Cami to get the heft and balance of her blade. The Hobbit soon realized that the weight of the blade was tiring her far more quickly than the lighter wood, and called a halt when her shoulders and arms burned from the strain of it.

Pio dropped the point of her blade to the ground and watched as Cami sat wearily on the steps, her sword neglected on the step below her. ‘It was a good workout, Cami. We’ll do another tomorrow.’ Cami groaned and rubbed her tired arms.

A snicker came from the crowd gathered at the end of the verandah. ‘Told ya she’d never last. Unnatural anyway. No female ought to be handling a sword. Pay up, Odo. I knew the Elf would best her.’

Willem Boffin held out his grimy hand to his cronies expecting to hear the clink of several silver pennies drop into it. Instead he watched as they backed away from him. ‘Well now, you welshing on our bet? Pay up, you . . .’ The rest of his words were cut off as the hilt of Cami’s blade met his outstretched hand.

‘Oh, they will pay up, sir. Right after you show them how good you are with a blade. You are a man, are you not?’ The tip of Pio’s blade nudged him low in the stomach. ‘And better than poor, weak, female Cami.’

Now the snickers were turned his way. And there were catcalls calling his bravery into question. Sweat broke out along his brow and his cheeks burned a dull red. Nothing to do but face the Elf in the Yard or run like some craven coward.

Cami was alarmed. She had seen that feral look in Pio’s eyes before and it did not bode well for the other Hobbit. She stood to make a protest, but Pio had already drawn him into the yard, and they were now ringed with spectators.

Pio held her sword lightly, its tip pointed toward his left shoulder. She circled, light on her feet, keeping her eyes on him as he swung his sword two handed at her. She parried his hamfisted thrusts and slashes easily, keeping a running commentary on his form, and every so often, dipping the tip of her blade in quickly, leaving a small bleeding scratch or rent in his clothing.

He grew angrier, his bladework choppier, driven more by his indignation than what small skill and brawn he possessed. Cami had pushed her way into the ring of spectators, and caught Pio’s eye. She shook her head ‘no’ hoping the Elf would relent and call the match off.

Willem took advantage of Pio’d lapse in attention and rushed in quickly toward her, blade swinging madly in a low arc. He managed to get past her inattentive defenses and cut a long gash on her thigh.

A sharp intake of breath was her only reaction to the injury. Ignoring the blood running down her leg, she dropped into a crouch and refocused her attention full on him.

‘Cami,’ she said quietly, circling round him with him once more, ‘we practiced the proper forms for blade work. But this was to be your next lesson – the expedient way of using your blade to disable your opponent.’

She stepped in quickly and blocked a blow from his weapon, then slapped him hard on his side with a quick blow from the flat of her blade, knocking the wind from him. Drawing even closer, she lashed out a leg, and hooking him behind the knee, sent him sprawling on his back, his blade clattering away as he fell. The flat of her own blade slapped down smartly across his throat as he lay there. She brought her face close to him, her hot breath in his ear.

‘Perhaps next time there will be some female to defend you, sir!’

Pio looked up at his cronies. ‘Get him up! And pay him his winnings. Take him into Prim, she’ll get him patched up.’ She clapped him hard on the shoulder, once he was standing, and smiled at him. ‘You’re not half bad, you know! Go in and have a pint on me.’ She nodded to his friends. ‘You, too.’

‘Well, ‘ she said, turning to Cami as she leaned heavily on the pommel of her sword, its tip secured in the bloodied dirt at her feet, ‘that was a pleasant diversion . . .’

[ May 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

6 Cermië Note New Day

‘Must hurt!’ The Shiriff stood in the doorway to her quarters, hat in hand. ‘The door was open, I took the liberty of coming in.’

Pio sat in the chair by the window, her left leg up on a footstool. She was wearing a light summer dress and had the skirt of it hiked above the wound, giving it some cooling air. The edges were red and angry, and the area around it swollen. She looked up at Halfred and covered her leg with her skirt. She thought to get up, but the wound pained her, and she winced as she moved the leg off the stool.

‘Well, come in, then,’ she said, indicating the chair at the other end of the window. ‘Just be quiet, the babies are sleeping for the moment.’

A Hobbit of considerable stature, still he moved quietly across the floor and sat lightly on the edge of the chair. Fingers grasping the brim of his hat, he turned it round in a circle, trying to find the right words.

‘Just spit it out, Shiriff.’ A half smile graced Pio’s face. ‘I know you have not come on a social call to inquire how the babies and their mother are doing. What brings you to the Inn, and specifically to my room?’

Halfred glanced nervously about the room. ‘Is your Mister still ill. I haven’t seen him about lately.’

Pio looked quizzically at this statement. Then remembered that Cook and Prim had told the poor Shiriff earlier that Mithadan was dreadfully ill and unavailable for questioning. She stifled a giggle, hiding it behind a cough.

‘He is better! Thank you for asking. Though his cough seems to linger.’

Halfred leaned back, further away from the Elf, who had just coughed.

The Shiriff cleared his throat and then proceeded to tell her that a complaint had been made about her roughing up one of the locals with her sword. Another example of Big Folk pushing about the inhabitants of the Shire in the eyes of the complainant. ‘You really must be more careful, Miz Pio,’ he admonished her. ‘Sentiment against all Big Folk is running high these dark days. And I’m afraid until we get these kidnappings sorted out it will only get more ugly.’ He looked at her, an expression of genuine concern on his face. ‘You’ve got your babies now. You have to keep yourself and your Mister safe to be here to take care of them.’

‘I thank you for your concern, Shiriff.’ Pio got up from her seat stiffly, her leg throbbing with pain. ‘Let me assure you I plan only to be stay near my children until we can leave the Shire. And as for Mithadan, he also has the babies foremost in his mind.’

She limped out to the Common Room with him, and drew him a half pint as well as one for herself. They sat at one of the tables near the bar and the conversation turned to pleasantries about parenting and general news from the Shire. When he was done, Halfred placed his hat back on his head, and bid her have a good day, and her Mister, too. She, in turn, promised to keep her blade sheathed, and the Hobbits she might encounter, unscathed.

‘Do let me know if I or Mithadan can assist you in any way,’ she told him. He raised one eyebrow at her, then flushed, and said politely, ‘Well, now, that’s a generous offer on your part. But I think the good people of the Shire can look after themselves.’

Pio walked with him to the verandah of the Inn, watching him as he mounted his pony and headed back down the path.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Stoatie was in no mood for any nonsense, not from the strangers, and certainly not from the others in Ferny's employ who were quickly sidling up to get a closer look at the newcomers.

"Y'all shut yer traps!" Old Stoat raised his cudgel and glared maliciously around the circle. "Back off. Till Ferny gits here, I'll be the one to say if they live or if I slice their throats real nice and quick." His fingers strayed to the dagger that he kept close by his side.

Then, Stoat grabbed up Mithadan's broadsword and ran his finger along the tip of the blade, smiling with pleasure at the sweet twinge of pain the sharp edge brought to him. He glanced slyly over to the owner of the weapon. "So exactly what sort o' job were the two of yer hopin' to do?"

Before Mithadan could respond, there was a murmur of astonishment that rushed though the crowd. Dickon, a sour faced, pimply youth in the employ of the henchmen, had found his way into the circle and eagerly thrust out his dirty hands into Bird's rear pockets, searching this way and that, hoping to bag a bit o' change for the askin'.

With her lean figure and stern demeanor, and her black curls tucked up tight inside her cap, the shapechanger had found it easy to pass for a village lad who'd come along as a companion with the taller, grey-eyed stranger. But one sharp pinch from Dickon, and a feel of soft, rounded flesh a bit further up brought a loud whistle to the youth's lips, "Hey, Stoatie. We got a live one 'ere. This ain't no fella'. It's a gurl."

Dickon turned and grinned at Stoatie. "Let's keep this 'un. We can use 'er to warm our beds at night."

The response from Stoat was swift and immediate. "Git yer bloody hands off 'er,"

The wheels began turning inside Stoatie's brain. Men with swords were not uncommon. But a woman--a woman who could keep kids in line--that was a different matter. Indeed it was a rare treasure. Women knew how to scare young 'uns and give 'em a good whack or two. They could make squirmy babes shut their mouths and not bellow so loud or long.

Stoatie beamed at the prospect of being set free from his prison. The black-haired woman could be set over that rascal Fosco and the Elf Lady's twins so he could turn to more profitable chores. Women were all so disgustingly soft. Just tell her he'd skewer the infants if she got outta line just once. That should take care of things.

With a broad grin on his face, Stoatie yelled out his happy news, "Hey, Mister Ferny, we got a real jewel here. She's a lady who knows how to knock sense into hobbit brats, and can git those Elf babes we're plannin' on haulin' off to shut up real nice. And she's got some scrawny guy with 'er who says he knows how to wield a sword. Maybe we can use 'im for somethin' real important like garbage duty. Then again, 'e may be worth a tad more than that. That's if 'e can learn to keep his mouth shut."

With this, the door of the house opened wide and Ferny emerged in full view.

[ May 22, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Nurumaiel]

Ferny had his eyes on Fosco as he went out of the house. Hopefully the brat was really truly asleep, not just pretending. If he wasn't asleep, then he'd definitely take this chance to get out and run for home. And then he'd warn everyone of their plans.

Ferny growled under his breath. He wasn't taking any chances. "Stoatie, send that woman in here right now to keep an eye on the brat!" he called. "And send one of your men with her." He could just see the brat escaping with the help of the woman. They were taking her most definitely. No need to question. They needed a woman to look after the brat, and he didn't care who they got. It was this other who arose his doubts.

Ferny walked up to Mithadan and eyed him thoughtfully. Yes, here was someone who could be helpful... if he were trustworthy. He opened his mouth to speak, but Stoatie, without realizing he was doing so, interrupted.

"Look at 'is sword," he said. "I fer one think 'e would be able to 'elp us."

"Maybe the kidnapping?"

Stoatie looked doubtful. Ferny shrugged. "I'll leave it to you, Stoat," he said. "Though you're just my henchman, you seem to have a pretty clear idea of what I'm thinking, and I'm in no mood to think." He reached down to rub his legs.

"Yer on," Stoatie snarled to Mithadan. "Ye 'ad better behave yerself as well, for Ferny don't 'old well with traitors an' spys."

* * * * * *

Bird entered the house followed by one of Ferny's men. Fosco opened his eyes and uncurled, looking up at her innocently, blinking. "I bet you're another of those evil men," he shouted.

Bird knelt down beside him and smiled warmly at him. "No, I'm not," she said. She looked kindly at him.

"Are you a friend of mummy's?" the lad asked.

"Yes."

For the first time Fosco's voice broke and big tears welled up in his eyes. He reached out and took Bird's hand, and the tears began to spill over. "I miss my mummy and daddy and my brother... I even miss my sister. I want to go home." The young brat was transformed into a young boy who wanted nothing but to go home and see his family again. He lay his curly head on Bird's hand and sobbed.

[Birdland]

Bird's heart broke at the sight of Fosco, who was always such a happy-go-lucky thing, breaking down into tears. But the sight of Ferny's lacky standing there, watching the scene with a sneer, rankled. Nor had she forgotten the groping that she had had to endure. Sympathy and tears would have to wait. She had to show these men where she intended to stand in their pecking order, and she had to do it now.

So she whipped back her arm from the grasp of the halfling child, and with a "tsk" of disgust wiped the tears away with her hand. "Quit that catterwauling. It will get you nowhere with me. I've dealt with enough brats to know that turning on the waterworks makes them think they will get their way. Keep that blubbering up, and I'll give you something to really blubber about."

Bird ran her gaze around the cell, wrinkling her nose in disgust. She picked up an empty wooden pail, and slinging it into the chest of the guard, snarled "Fetch me some water."

"Bill says I'm to stay with you all." the man drawled thickly.

"SLACK-WIT!" Birdie screamed "I'm not staying with this brat, reeking the way he does. And don't think you'll sit there on your pimply bum while I do all the work! I want some water, and I want it NOW!"

With that Bird started swinging the bucket at the guard's head, until he stumbled out the door into the daylight. Birdie hurled the pail after him, shouting, "and don't forget to fetch a faggot of wood for the hearth. And a kettle and tea. If I'm to tend this ratling, I'll have my tea! Now get going, before I boil some water and plunk YOU in it, you stinking, slinking moon-calf!"

Bird whipped around and re-entered the cell, the laughter of Ferny's men as they jeered at their hen-pecked fellow echoing through the yard. Swiftly she ran to back to Fosco, hissing "We don't have much time. I am here to help you. Tell me what you know of the intentions of these ruffians, quickly!"

[Mithadan]

Stoat watched Bird chase Ferny's man from the cottage with a dark grin on his face. He turned to Mithadan with a smirk and said, "Now she's sumthin' now isn't she?"

Mithadan nodded with a grin. "Yes, she can be a real dragon to those who run afoul of her."

The grubby Man looked at Mithadan appraisingly. "Now what can we do with you?" he asked.

"I'll do such as you need," Mithadan answered. "Though I'd like a chance to rub the faces of those Halflings in it. You were right about your warnings when I met you on the road a time ago."

Stoat's eyes narrowed as he tried to recall what Mithadan spoke of. Then he nodded in recognition. "I'd fergotten," he said. "Too much drink and that beard of yours. D'yer have a run in with 'em?"

"Aye," responded Mithadan. "They locked me up and took my purse. I'd hidden my sword before they caught me, else I'd have lost that too. Met her in the lock-up."

"Well now," said Stoat. "If that's the way of things, then you'll enjoy the goings on around here. But fer now, take yer sword and head over ter the gate. Stand guard fer a time while we dream up a good use fer you..."

[piosenniel]

6 Cermië

She heard the knocking at her door and rose stiffly from her chair. ‘Now what do you need?’ she called out, thinking the Shiriff had forgotten to press her on some important point. ‘I know no more now than when you last were here!’ she said as she threw open the door.

A surprised Cami stood on the threshold. ‘What in the Shire are you talking about? I’ve come to play with the babies - that’s all I need. And honestly, I have no questions for you, except: Where are they?’ She watched as Pio limped painfully back to her chair, favoring her left leg.

‘What’s happened to you?’ she asked. Her eyes strayed to the nursery door; she could hear Gilly’s voice, and the fussing little cries of hungry babies.

‘Nothing!’ came the curt reply from the Elf. ‘I’m just a little stiff, that’s all.’

‘Stiff, my foot!’ said Gilly in a disapproving tone. She came out of the nursery, cradling an infant in each arm. ‘Begging your pardon and all, Mistress Piosenniel, but it’s your Elven neck that’s stiff, not your leg.’ She turned to Cami and handed her the little girl. The hungry, squalling boy she handed to his mother. ‘You should make her show you her leg. The place where Willem cut her. It’s not healing right, what I’ve seen of it, and she won’t let Prim take a look at it.’

Gilly looked meaningfully at Cami as she uttered her next statement. ‘I heard from one of the Bywater boys who was at the Inn yesterday that Gammer Bolger was going to Amaranthas’ today, to leave her some of her unguents and herbals in trade for thimbleberry jam and plum conserve, and a loaf or two of Amaranthas’ seed cake.’ A certain light came into her eyes and she peered at Cami thoughtfully.

‘If you’re not busy this morning, maybe we can all take a ride up to Amaranthas’ and catch her there.’ She picked up the baby from Cami’s arms and traded her for the boy.

Pio raised her brows at the obviousness of this suggestion, and was about to shake her head ‘no’, when Cami spoke . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

"Piosenniel! I can't believe you would be so rude to snub your friend Amaranthas." Cami shook her head in exasperation.

"I know for a fact that Amaranthas is feeling poorly, and wants to see more of the twins. Why, she was just telling me the other day how hard it is for her to get a ride to the Inn, and how she's past the age of walking so far."

"I'm sure she told me that so I could gently pass the warning on to you. It's considered very rude in the Shire to snub the head of an extended family or someone who's on in years. And that's exactly what you're doing! So you'd better get your body into that cart now, or every hobbit in the Shire will be saying that the Elf thinks herself too high and mighty to visit an elderly hobbit who needs a kindly word!"

"Anyways, Holly is itching for a little expedition, and Bilbo has been telling me that, with Frodo spending so much of his time helping Sam, he'd also appreciate an outing. Surely you wouldn't disappoint my teacher!"

Cami gave a stern eye to Gilly, indicating that she should go out to the stables and have the larger cart prepared as quickly as possible so they could all fit inside. Before Gilly left, she tugged on Cami's sleeve and pulled her aside in the corridor, "Is that really true? The part about Amaranthas feeling "poorly" and Bilbo wanting an expedition?

Cami shook her head, "Now, don't ask so many questions. Just get that cart ready before Pio changes her mind. I'll bring Holly. You pop around to Bilbo and tell him to come along. He's always up for a little visit. Maura's out on patrol duty, and won't be back till tonight, and my boys have gone on a picnic with Lindo. So my time is perfectly free."

With that, Cami returned to Pio with an innocent smile plastered across her face.

[ May 24, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

You are an imp, Cami Goodchild!

Pio watched as the smile froze on the Hobbit’s face, a decidedly rabbit-facing-the-snake look coming over her features. The Elf grinned and punched her friend lightly in the shoulder. ‘And I love you for it!’

She beckoned the relieved Hobbit closer and motioned for her to give her a hand up. Pio winced and shook her head as she rose. Leaning on Cami’s shoulder she made her way to the door of her rooms and out to the waiting wagon.

Cami took the driver’s seat with Gilly beside her, and Holly snug on the young Hobbit’s lap. Pio climbed into the back with the twins, sleeping in their basket, on the seat next to her. There would be plenty of room for Bilbo on the front seat of the wagon. The Elf squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, trying to ease the pain in her leg, and the dull headache which had just invaded the space between her eyes.

Bilbo came hurrying from the Inn, eager to go on the outing with the trio. Cami flicked the reins gently on Nettle’s flanks, urging the pony on.

I should have taken a dose of willow-bark powder. Pio thought to herself as they rolled slowly down the Great East Road, nearing the turn north, up Hill Lane. She eased the babies’ basket to the floor of the cart and brought her leg up to rest on the seat. Leaning back against the high side of the cart, Pio rubbed her temples, and closed her eyes against the bright mid-morning light.

Perhaps if I can just sleep a little, I shall feel better by the time we get to Amaranthas’ . . . She loosened the collar of her shirt, and rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. So hot . . .

Her thoughts trailed off . . .

[Nurumaiel]

Fosco jerked his head back in surprise as Bird pulled her hand away and began scolding him. He sat back and brushed the tears from his eyes, fighting the new ones threatening to come up, for his mother would have never treated him in that way if he was sorrowful and needed comfort. He folded his arms and watched as Bird chased the henchman who was keeping an eye on them out of the house. Then she turned back to him and asked him hurriedly to tell him what Ferny was planning.

Fosco stared at her. She had treated him in such a cold and uncaring way, and now she expected him to talk to her. She was crazy. "I won't tell you," he said, closing his eyes and raising his chin stubbornly. "You're too mean."

Bird stared at him for a few moments, puzzling it out. How could she make someone so young as him understand, especially when he was so upset? "Fosco, listen," she said firmly. "We can't let Ferny and his henchmen know we're friends."

"You mean..." Fosco hesitated and gave her a strange look, as though he didn't really trust her. Probably trying to think of an excuse to scold me again. "You mean we have to look like we hate each other?"

"Yes, and then we can escape. But, Fosco, you must tell me Ferny's plans."

And then Fosco told her the whole story, beginning at the most unecessary points, such as that Pio was going to have twins and his mother was to be a midwife. At last Bird had heard everything. Ferny was going to kidnap Pio's twins. Bird's mind began to work quickly.

[ May 31, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Birdland]

Birdie's skin crawled as she heard Fosco's final words regarding what "that bad man" planned to do. Kidnap the twins? Ferny was not just bad; he was utterly insane. Kidnap the children of a First Born? He would have every Elf in the territory down on Breeland with just one thought from Piosenniel. What could that man be thinking?

But then, would Pio even send that thought? Would she risk allowing her kinfolk to know that Mith and she had broken the edict of the King regarding the Shire? Perhaps the Elf folk would not care, but what of the Rangers she had seen at the ruins of Annúminas? If they heard of these doings, what would they do with Mith, after they had finished with Ferny? No, none could know of this except Mith, and he would have to know of it very soon.

Bird started to pace back and forth, muttering to herself, while Fosco looked on with wary eyes. She heard the weasely guard outside, complaining bitterly to anyone who would listen about his treatment from that "catty foreign female" in the cottage. How could they convince Ferny that a guard wasn't necessary? That this "foreign female" was every bit as nasty as any of his own men?

Suddenly the little skinchanger let out a laugh and whirled around to the halfling child. "Fosco, my little lad. How loud can you yell?"

Fosco's eyes widened and he stared at Bird, puzzled. "What kind of yell do you mean?" he asked curiously. It was obvious she had something up her sleeve, and he wanted to find out what it was.

"Like I'm beating you."

Fosco grinned widely. "I can yell really loud."

(additional text by Nurumaiel.)

[ May 31, 2003: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As the cart wound its way through the shady lanes towards Hobbiton, Holly kept up a non-stop stream of three year-old singing and giggling, twining herself first about Gilly's neck, then crawling over to the sideboard and leaning out to grab at passing branches. Cami had all she could do to keep Nettle's attention on the road and make sure her daughter did not become so excited that she pitched headlong from the wagon.

The hobbit paid little attention to Pio and the twins who were stretched out in the back. Since no noise came from any of them, she assumed her friend was drowsing, enjoying a rare moment of rest from the unending tasks of nursing and tending to the needs of little ones. When they finally pulled up beside Amaranthas' door, Cami helped Bilbo down from the wagon and had Gilly lead him and Holly into the parlor. She stayed behind for a moment intending to climb into the back and wake up Pio.

The twins were nestled near one another, peacefully asleep in their wicker basket with covers tucked in tight. But one close look at Piosenniel confirmed that something was wrong. Her friend's face looked flushed and terribly white, like a bedsheet that had been stretched too tight. Pio lay half slumped over and shivering, leaning her head against the high side of the cart. Yet, when Cami slipped her fingers through the wayward curls that had fallen down on Pio's forehead, it felt terribly hot to her touch. Piosenniel stared up with groggy eyes that did not seem to focus clearly and tried to force her body up, but then fell back defeated onto the hay with a soft moan.

Cami's eye's widened with apprehension. In all their days together on the Star, through all their ragged adventures, she had never seen her friend look so weak. She forced back a memory of Gondolin, when Pio had left her and gone rashly forward to confront a whole army of Orcs, lying mortally wounded in Idril's house. What a fool I am! While I focused on the road and Holly's antics, I didn't see how Piosenniel's wound had festered and now spews its venom into her blood. I wish she had never crossed paths with that loud mouth hobbit at the Inn. Cami found her heart pounding fiercely as she raced up to Amaranthas' door calling out for Gilly to come help her lift the half-conscious Elf out of the back of the cart.

[ May 28, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

6 Cermië, and waking on 7 Cermië, the day before the party

Were it not for the serious expressions on the Hobbits’ faces, it would have looked like a comedy routine from some rustic group of traveling players at the local Inn. The Elf was tall, and the fact that she had gone limp in her fevered state made her a long, large dead weight for them to manage.

Cami and Gilly grabbed her under the shoulders, while Bilbo and Amaranthas with Gammer Bolger took the legs. Holly, wide-eyed at the spectacle, held the door open for the rescuers.

‘Put her there in the bedroom on the left,’ directed Amaranthas, as they cleared the threshold. They wrangled her through the narrow door way, head first and with a mighty effort, shoved her on the bed.

Pio’s face was flushed, her brow hot, when Gammer Bolger put her fingers to it, and beaded with sweat. Her lids were closed and her eyes moved restlessly beneath them. An occasional moan escaped her lips from time to time, accompanied by a grimace.

Amaranthas set Gilly to boiling some water as she and Gammer inspected the offending leg wound.

The old dragon trained her sharp, beady black eyes on Cami, who stood at the side of the bed holding her friend’s hand. ‘Now just how does Miz Pio come to have such a nasty gash on her leg, Miz Cami? What’s been going on down at the Inn that this should have happened?’

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The stars picked out their old comforting patterns against the darkness of the night sky. Wilwarin to her right, and above her the Netted Stars.

To her left, a looked for beacon, shone Eärendil, hanging bright above the horizon.

’Well, now, what are you doing here, Elf?’ the deep voice asked, a hint of amusement playing at the edges of the question.

It was a cold wind that pushed her short curls back from her face. Pio lifted her arms to run her fingers through her cropped hair, her brow furrowing at the length of it. Her neck was bare and the coolness of the air as it rushed by felt welcome.

She had been so hot, she remembered. And painful,too. Her hand dropped down to rub the firm muscle on the top of her thigh. Her leg was whole, no pain, no stiffness.

Leggings, she was wearing leggings, and her soft leather shirt, unlaced as usual, at the throat. Across her chest, her leather baldric. Her knives arranged just so, two more secreted in the tops of her knee high, soft leather boots. At her left hip, her blade.

‘Where are we bound, Old One?’ she asked, her heart beating quickly at the ribbon of silver, the familiar river that ran through the land below them.

A full moon hung fat in the darkness, throwing its soft light on the lands below. The shadow of the great beast rippled over Nan Tathren, a great winged ship bearing its rider over the plains below and across the Andram.

‘Go west, keeping the Teiglin on your right,’ she commanded. And she heard the snort at this demand. ‘I would see it, if you please. The Rainy Stair.’

‘It pleases me, Elf, that you remember to be polite. This is a service I do for you, no slavish task.’

Still, they turned, and Amon Rudh flew by beneath them as they veered northward once again and came to the Celebros as it entered the Teiglin. Even in moonlight it was beautiful, the silvered water as it descended from the highlands of Brethil into the ravines of the greater river and fell in a series of waterfalls. Fine mist filled the air above it as the waters plunged down the ravines, throwing spray into the air.

‘Look!’ she cried, urging her companion down through the cool, watery haze. ‘Dimrost, the Rainy Stair.’ The fine spray broke the soft moonlight into bright gems that caught on her clothing and in the tangles of her hair as they passed through it. She laughed, a silvery laugh, that fell through the mist and was borne up again on the river’s spray.

‘Now north,’ she pleaded, the desire growing in her to see the Fountain in the King’s Square once again.

Beyond the border of great pines that bounded Brethil they flew and rising up, passed over the tips of the Crissaegrim. Pio gasped as they dropped beneath the thin cover of clouds at the crown of the mountains and their small shadow winged its way across the Vale of Tumladen.

‘Ondolindë!’ She strained forward, leaning down alongside the neck of her companion. ‘Take me down. Let me walk there once again . . .’

Her words trailed off, and the land below grew thin and wavered beneath her. She fell, plunging headlong into darkness as the great beast beneath her turned transparent and its form no longer held.

‘Not this time, Elf,’ came the once familiar voice, fading to a whisper, dispersed on the air. Another, more commanding voice, rang firm behind it. ‘Wake from your dreamings, Firstborn.’

‘Wake up, Piosenniel. It is a new day. Your son and daughter call for you.'

7 Cermië

Early morning threw a pale bar of sunlight across the coverlet. Pio, her eyes barely opened, struggled up, thinking to see the golden-eyed visage of her old friend perched close on the bed beside her. Instead, her hand touched the tousled brown curls of Cami, whose head lay heavily on the edge of the bed where she had fallen asleep as she knelt by her friend’s side.

Pio propped herself up on her elbows and called softly to the Hobbit.

‘Cami, wake up! Where has Angara got to . . .?’

[ May 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami pressed her head as far underneath the coverlet as she could. From somewhere distant, she heard a voice calling out her own name and that of "Angara." Cami wondered just how that could be, since only a minute or so before the great wyrm had been triumphantly perched upon the masthead of the Star, commanding the hobbit to go down to the bottom deck and fill the gigantic storage tub with hot soapy water. Cami quibbled with Angara as she'd done a hundred times before, trying to explain that the three seacows who lived there would not care to share their home, not even temporarily with a magical dragon taking a bath.

The voice became louder and more insistent, and Cami felt a gentle hand on top of her head, with the fingers slipping through her towseled curls. Instinctively, the hobbit opened her eyes and sat up abruptly as reality came flooding back. She stared over at Piosenniel, still pale and strained, but looking much better than when they'd hauled her from the wagon and dragged her inside.

Afraid that she might break down and blubber with relief, Cami steeled her face and wagged a finger toward her friend. "That's the last time I'll let you get away with that. You gave us a terrible scare. Gammer Bolger and Amaranthas have been working on you all night, draining out the infection and trying all manner of herbal remedies. When your fever finally broke, they bound a new poultice on your leg and bandaged it up all nice and fresh."

"You've had a string of wellwishers pounding at the front door, but Gilly's made them all go away. Even the Shirriff came and brought a vase of flowers." She pointed towards a small arrangement of posies which Gilly had set on the broad window ledge.

Piosenniel shifted her arms and upper body as if she were about to fling back the bedclothes and try to stand up. Instantly, and with no warning, Gilly came racing into the bedchamber with a look of resolve on her face. "No, you don't, Miz Pio. Amaranthas is resting now, but she gave strict orders. You're to remain in bed till evening, and try to eat some nourishing food, even if we have to pile five hobbits on top of you to hold you down."

Piosenniel's eyes widened sightly at the thought of five plump hobbits pressing down against her leg. A large bed tray filled with a vast array of scrumptious hobbit treats was immediately brought in and set down on a table right beside her. Piosenniel had resigned herself and was just about to take her first bite of a small seed cake, when she looked sharply over to Gilly and asked in a trembling voice, "The twins. Where are the twins? They were with me in the back of the wagon."

[piosenniel]

7 Cermië

Pio put the seedcake back on the tray, and pushed the table away from the bed. ‘You will regret it if you come near me,’ she said in a low, even voice to Gilly, who had stepped close to her in anticipation of her next move. She threw back the covers and sat up gingerly, easing her legs over the side of the bed. ‘And worse yet,’ she warned, seeing Gilly take another step closer, ‘if you touch me at all.’

Cami’s voice came tiredly from the opposite edge of the bed, where she now sat. ‘She means it, Gilly. Best leave the fool Elf to fall over by herself, if that’s what she wants to do.’ Cami yawned broadly, and laid down on the pillow next to Pio’s. ‘Eru knows we’re all so tired that if she does . . . fall over, that is . . . we won’t have enough energy among us to get her back in bed.’ She tossed the other pillow on the floor in front of Pio. ‘Try to land on that you stiff-necked Elf, we’ll throw a blanket over you and you can stay there til we’re rested or you’re better!’ Cami’s voice trailed off into another series of yawns, then silence, followed by the soft sounds of snoring.

Pio’s face had gone white from the effort of sitting up, and the room about her was starting to spin and close in about her. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, then called gently to the babies. They were nearby, and dreaming, but the touch of her thought awakened them, and their little minds reached out for her. Relief flooded through her. They were alright.

‘Bring them to me. They are awake now.’ Gilly started to protest that they were sleeping, but their tiny voices proved otherwise as they took up the lusty cry for the comforts of their ammë.

Gilly picked up the pillow from the floor and propped it against the headboards of the bed. ‘If you’ll get back in there, as Amaranthas directed, and settle in comfortably, I’ll bring them to you,’ she bargained with the pasty-faced Elf.

‘Just bring them, and quickly, I’ll do as you wish.’ Her leg had started to throb, and she eased it gently back onto the bed, pulling the covers back up over her legs as she rested against the headboard. Soon they were in her arms and she held them close, telling them of her dream, and the plans for Cami’s big day tomorrow.

She was loath to let them go, and when they were fed and changed, she bade Gilly help her settle them in between herself and the deeply sleeping Cami. ‘It will be all too soon,’ she said softly to them as she stroked their hair, ‘that you will be leaving me, and making your own way in the wide world. I’ll hold you as close as I can now, as proof against that time coming.’

Pio turned on her side and gathered their drowsing forms against her. She lay for a few moments her hand lightly on them, watching them breathe their little breaths, then dropped off to sleep herself.

Which was how Maura found the four of them when he came to collect Cami later that morning . . .

[ May 31, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Stoatie came slinking back after making the rounds of the fields and buildings, still ruminating on everything that had gone down for the day. He'd spent a good spell of time crouching behind a shed at the main gate, spying on the newcomer Mithadan as he went about his business. A scrawny sort he was, but the man obviously knew exactly what he was doing when he put his hand to the hilt of a sword.

Once that afternoon, a no-good, wandering varmint had shuffled up to the gate, beggin' for some scraps of help. Gittin' the word from Shifty, the boss over all the guards, Mithadan had sent the fellow running and given him a scare, wielding his sword deftly to cut a six-inch patch from the no-good's breeches and rearranging the belt for good measure. That poor varmint would be holdin' up his trowsers all the way to Bree, and would have a good story to tell in the Pony to keep any other useless ones away.

Still, whatever Mithadan's skill with a broadsword, there was something about him that Stoatie didn't trust. Bein' near 'im gave Stoatie a sour feelin' in the pit of his stomach. On the outside, the fellow looked alright, with his scruffy lookin' beard and torn clothes, and grubby hands, the regular sort they were always gettin' to sign on. Maybe it was his voice or the way he spoke his words. He just sounded too smooth, too soft spoken. Stoatie wished he'd found out where the man hailed from, not that any anyone here would tell the truth about such a thing even if they were pressed.

Later on, he'd have a word or two with Ferny about the newcomer, and nail down the plans for the Elf and her brats. Old Stoat hated Elves, even more than he hated hobbits. Not that he'd seen many of them in his life.

And, as far as the Man went, they'd use his sword but wouldn't leave him alone, not even for an instant. On guard duty durin' the day, Shifty would always keep 'im in sight. And, there'd be no night work for the Man, not till they were sure he could be trusted. Instead, they'd put 'im in the bunkhouse with three of their strongest, most reliable henchmen. They'd keep the door locked and carefully pocket the key. No way, he could sneak out and do anything on his own. If he proved 'isself, then they'd loosen the bonds. If not.......Stoatie knew well and good how to git rid of things that outlived their usefulness. He wouldn't mind a job like that at all.

It was at this point that he heard a loud, long caterwaulin' comin' from the place where the hobbit brats were stashed. He hurried over to find out what kind of trouble they'd let loose. Maybe that new woman couldn't handle them any better than he had.

When Stoatie got to the shed and shoved open the door, the guard was nowhere in sight. But what he saw made him grin with pure delight. There were crockery and pots and pans hurled all over the place. Bird stood there with a belt in her hand beaming down at the little snot. Fosco was all hunched over, shakin' and shiverin' and yelping as loud as he could. Guard or no, the woman obviously had things in hand.

What a fine lady! Not that you could really call one like that a lady. She'd been through too much and seen the inside of too many bars to qualify for a title like that. He could tell it just by lookin' at 'er. This one he instinctively trusted. She was his kind of woman, a sly one, no better than hisself.

Stoatie found himself givin' Bird a good long look. For someone so long in the tooth, she was quite well preserved. Just the sort he'd like to have around when he finally finished his gig and got enough money to set himself up in style. Not that she'd be the only one. Two or three more, perhaps a bit younger and more docile, would complement her nicely.

Stoatie went up to Bird and grunted something out, "Not bad, not bad! You gittin' this stiff necked Fosco grovlin' on the floor. I like your style, Bird! You've got a future here. You fit in real good. I think you can handle these brats by yourself. No use wasting a guard when you can keep 'em in line."

Then he gave Bird a small dagger, explaining "Just in case they git out o' line and give you trouble. Scare 'im and put 'im back real fast." He lowered his voice so the screaming Fosco could not hear. "But Boss Man says we can't cut 'em up or nothin' like that. They're gonna bring us a pot o' gold so we need the brats fresh and whole. But, for now, you done a real good job." He gave her a wink and a meaningful look.

With evening setting in, Stoatie turned and left, intending to have Mithadan placed under lock and key till he proved he was trustworthy, and then to visit Ferny for a little chat.

[ June 01, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Pio barely raised her head when Maura came in to carry Cami to the wagon. Holly popped in, then, for the briefest of moments before leaving with her Da. The little one climbed on the bed and crawled carefully over to where the twins were sleeping. ‘Bye babies,’ she heard the tiny voice say. ‘See you a’morrow.’ She bent down and gave them each a kiss on the cheek. ‘I’m wearing my pretty dress,’ she whispered near their ears. Pio woke briefly and opening her eyes, smiled at the solemn faced little girl.

‘Bye, Holly’ she said waving her fingers at the retreating Hobbit, descending carefully from the bed. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow at the Party.’

‘Party! Party!’ came the high voiced, singsong chant as Holly ran off to join Cami and Maura in the wagon.

It was much later in the evening when Pio woke up again. Some dark dream had held sway with her, and she found it difficult to find her way from out it. The images were vague, threatening, and she felt helpless as events unrolled around her. Her arms were empty in the dream, and she could not find what she needed for them. Her sword was at her side in this perilous fantasy, and she drew it, but it was not enough to fill the aching emptiness, or push back the encroaching shadows.

She woke up with a start, her hand reaching instinctively for her children. And breathed deeply when she found them, sleeping soundly at her side. Alone in the quiet room, she sat slowly up in bed, testing the pain in her leg. It had grown less, and she eased it gently to the floor, standing up carefully her hand on the headboard of the bed for balance and support. The discomfort was tolerable now, and her head no longer swam as it had before.

Pio took a few hesitant steps around the room, testing out the leg. At the end of the bed, on the old wooden trunk there, fresh clothes had been laid out for her. ‘Gilly must have gone back to the Inn for these,’ she said, picking up the shirt from the stack. Pulling off the night gown someone had put her in, she pulled the shirt over her head, then pulled on a pair of breeches. She scooped the twins into her arms and walking slowly, exited the bedroom.

Amaranthas was the first to see the pale faced Elf walking stiffly out to the front room. She clucked her tongue at the apparition, but the look in Pio’s faced warned her away. ‘I am just going to sit out here for a while, Amaranthas. I shall go mad if I have to stay in bed a moment longer.’

Gilly came in, bearing a bouquet of evening blossoms in a tall vase from the flower garden, a look of concern on her face as she saw Pio struggling to bend her leg and sit in the chair. She placed the vase securely on the top of the writing desk, and rushed over to her side. ‘Here, let me have those babies, while you get yourself down!’ She made to put them in the basket by Amaranthas’ chair, but Pio shook her head no, saying she wanted the babies kept near her for now. As Gilly drew near and placed the babies by Pio’s chair, the Elf reached up and grasped her by the wrist.

‘I have had a dream,’ she said clearly, ‘that has made me uneasy. I know this will sound strange to you, but I want you to go to the Inn now, and in my bedroom, laid out in the chest to the left of the door, get my sword for me, my baldric and my knives wrapped in the soft piece of deer leather. Bring also my vambraces and my light mail shirt. And bring ‘Falmar, tied to the back of the cart. I am disquieted this evening, and I wish to see the night got safely through for me and my own.’

Gilly was half tempted to tell the Elf it was a passing dark fancy from her fevered state. But she had caught the edge of fear from Pio’s voice. Grabbing her cloak, she hurried out into the warm, safe-seeming Shire evening and made for the Inn.

[ June 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Thread closed. Please see the continuation thread.

I shifted over some posts, starting with the wedding, to our new thread. Since long threads are hard on bandwidth, B-W has asked that we limit threads to 10-12 pages.

[ June 12, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

~*~ To Elvenhome ~*~