[Child of the 7th Age]

As the first sunlight cascaded over the sea, two hobbits untied the skiff from its mooring. They cranked the winch to place it gently down in the placid waters, and raised up its two square sails.

Rose leaned over to her friend, "Are you sure this is alright? The last time I sailed off on my own, I ended up swabbing decks for six weeks."

Child laughed and pulled the oars on board, in case the wind needed a little extra help. "It's fine. I've spoken with Mithadan, and told him we'll return before nightfall. He gave these charts to me, and made me promise to take someone along. So you're the one I've chosen."

Rose tugged at a heavy wicker hamper, pushing it off the deck of the Star into Child's welcoming arms. "What is this?" she asked.

Child smiled and shrugged, "Just enough to keep us going until sundown!"

The two were soon on their way. A brisk wind gusted from the west and sent the little skiff skimming over the waters. Rose manned the sails, while Child called out instructions, balancing the navigation charts on her lap. By mid-morning, a fair-sized island loomed in front of them.

"There it is!" called out Rose, with excitement in her voice.

Child nodded, and Rose trimmed the sails to guide the boat into a small harbor. Then, working together, they steered it through the shallows and dropped anchor over the side.

The hobbits ran through the shallow waters onto the sandy beach. The minute Child glanced around, a thought popped into her head. How the Stoors must have loved this! The waters lay all around, and the brown sand cliffs were pocked with many sea caves. Child wondered how many hobbit children had run down exploring when the tides were low. Some of the families must have made their living by farming and fishing in the sea, perhaps not too differently than Kali and his kin.

But the main settlement would have been on top of the hill. The women took some provisions with them from the hamper and slung their packs across their backs. It was the same pack Child had carried on her trip to Gondolin. Rose and Child climbed upward for a while, then walked across a series of grassy plains. There was no evidence that their folk had ever dwelt there, no broken down buildings of stone or small burrows cut into gentle banks. Thousands and thousands of years had passed. Everything and everyone was gone.

But still, Child was not unhappy. The sun was bright, and her friend walked beside her. Bird had once told her that, if you flew high in the heavens, it was possible to see the outlines of fields from hundreds or even thousands of years ago. If only she could be a bird, she would speed upward and look for tell-tale hints of farming. But her feet were not wings, and her eyes saw nothing but tall grasses and little creatures living their own lives.

Ahead of her, there was a grassy knoll shaded by a large grove of trees. Rose had run ahead, and now came sprinting back. She took her friend's hand, and pulled her onward until they came to a patch thick with leafy plants.

Child knelt down and studied their dark green leaves. And then she smiled. For all about her was something that should never have grown in this place. She stood in the middle of a large and vibrant stand of kingsfoil. Men of Numenor had once forced their way upon these peaceful shores, but their stay had been brief and brutal. No, this lush field was not the gift of men. For the Elf Piosenniel had transmitted the seeds to Child to be lovingly tended by hobbit hands.

After the community had been forced from these shores, the kingsfoil had spread out on its own, seeding and reseeding itself time and time again. Rose and Child stuffed the herbs into overflowing bags to take home to the Star, chatting and laughing at their good fortune. For this treasure might prove helpful in the grim days that lay ahead. Child silently thanked the healer Zira who had zealously guarded these seedlings, first in the camps of Dorthonion and later upon the lonely isle.

After stopping for lunch, Rose and Child pushed their way upward. Ahead, they could see the highest peak on Tol Fuin. The climb became rough. Sometimes, the two women would throw down their heavy bags, as Rose helped Child pull her body over the jagged rocks. Almost dizzy from exertion, they clambored onto the platou which looked down on the entire island. They lay on their backs panting, gazing up into the skies.

In a little while, Child pulled herself up and peered around the stony peak. There was no question in her mind. Fields and buildings may disappear with the passage of time, but great peaks and rocky ledges do not change so quickly. There was the cliff where she and Maura had sat watching the distant battle scene. Here, she had said her goodbyes to Ancalimon and her hobbit kin. And there, in that spot, Bird and Angara had stamped and snorted, urging the two hobbits to be on their way.

It was only a few days ago by the reckoning of the Lonely Star, but in the world of Maura and Lindo thousands of years had spun by. Now, wildflowers and silence reigned over all. And rocks were piled up into heaps over barrows. For this high spot, this place which had been their salvation from the churning waters, was clearly where the hobbits had chosen to place their dead.

Child asked Rose to take the two bags with herbs back down the slope, and she would catch up in just a bit. Then, the woman wandered about the ledge wishing she could know exactly where the bodies of her friends lay. She saw a few scratches on some large boulders which looked as if they might be inscriptions, but too many years had passed to read any of the letters with certainty.

So she sat on the stony ground and did what she had come to do. First, she sang a lullabye to Lindo and his Snowhobbits, and to all the folk who had been so kind to her in that place of shadows where they had been held. And then, she sang again, this time for Maura and all that he still meant to her. And she chose Lindo's song that told of sadness and separation, and hope and reunion in some distant place. And when she finished, she cried. But her tears were gentle ones.

Then she left that hill again, this time on her own. And she hurried down to be with her friend Rose, and to take her precious herbs back to the Star. And the two hobbits chatted about what they had seen on Tol Fuin, and talked about some of the things they expected to find in Numenor.

But, as the skiff sailed towards the west, Child began wondering whether she was now meant to take a new path in life. For a hobbit can not live only in memories.

[ August 26, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]