[Child of the 7th Age]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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