[Child of the 7th Age]

The Lady Idril returned from the deck to the lower cabin. She knew how anxious her captains looked, each desiring to strike ahead. For anything was better to them than the unknowable and the waiting. But, even so they must hold. She and Tuor cautioned the flotilla to tarry until a final answer would come.

The Elven Lady looked long at the two forlorn hobbits who stood still in her cabin with arms interlaced. Then she gently placed her hands on either side of Frodo's head. She tilted Frodo's face upwards and looked deeply into his eyes. She looked away and gently shook her head.

"Frodo, this choosing must be of your own will. For not even your good friend Samwise has the standing or the right to say yea or nay for you. But I will say truth to you, because there are two wizards, there must be two halflings. The balance must be maintained."

"And none of your people are here unless you would send Primrose or Child in your place. And though their hearts are willing, this is not their doom."

"Nor can I say why some are given heavy burdens in life, while others seem to slip through with so little care or strife. For even Manwe has not the answer for such mysteries. But do not forget that, in the end of time, all will be made right."

"And this I do know. When the powers above choose, they do not load upon a single soul more than he or she can bear. So take heart and do not forget that there is meaning and purpose to this."

"So you, Frodo, are the giver of hope, though in your own heart, you may ofen feel hope bereft. Why this mystery should be I can not say. But choose now. For your friend Mithadan falls deeper and deeper into the Shadow. And if you tarry longer, I fear for his soul."

Child scribbled furiously, her nose to the parchment, as Idril sat back to await their word, and the flotilla hung silent in the water.

[ June 18, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]