[Child of the 7th Age]

That morning, as the sun peered over the horizon, Cami awoke and walked quietly towards the forest grove. Then, on some impulse born of a need to see beyond the little spot where she was rooted, she turned to the slopes of the mountain and began to climb upward. She had no thought whatsoever of trying to reach the rugged crater at the top. It was too far away. But she scrambled and clawed her way up the steep hillside, trying to struggle beyond the foothills to a ledge where, free of underbrush, she could gaze outward.

For almost two hours, she grappled with the thick carpet of bushes and tangled vines as well as scattered rocks and cliff overhangs that sometimes compelled her to drop to her knees and clamber slowly forward. Groves of trees, at first abundant, grew sparse and infrequent as Cami pushed on. Finally, she pulled herself onto a solitary ledge which bulged out like a stone lip over the mouth of the hill. There was no way she could go higher without ropes or a companion for safety. This would have to do.

There was just enough room for her to stand and wrap her hands tightly around a tree root that jutted out like a safety line from between two boulders. Cautiously, she pushed her body to the very edge of the cliff, and looked down. From here she could make out a good portion of the isle, its beaches and forests and intermittant meadows. Beyond lay the sea with its rolling waves that slid softly onto the pure white sands.

Ancalimon would soon call the hobbits together and speak of the choice they all must make. Some must go one way, and some another, if the prophecies were to be fulfilled. Yet, Cami thought, how hard this was when they had so recently fought their way out of the tombs. Man and wife would surely choose to stand as one, and the children would respect the choice of their elders. But how many brothers, sisters, and cousins might find themselves on opposite sides? How many parents would weep to see grown children and their little ones step over the line, with a choice different than their own?

If a hobbit loved the Sea, and wished to explore its watery depths, then the isle could be a magic portal to the wonder and mystery of the Abyss. Yet, for most hobbits who loved the soil and growing things, a quiet forest glade, or even a life of wandering along untrodden paths, this tiny island would not be paradise. Instead, it could be more like a golden prison, with the sea pushed tightly against the shore.

With regret, Cami acknowledged where her own loyalties lay. Yet a piece of her still wondered whether it might be easier to slip under the spell of Meneltarma and all the lore that would be hidden here. The island would be protected even from the sight of Men, with no fear of intrusion or attack. There would be abundant foodstuffs and sheltering coves. And from the words of Andreth's journal, Cami knew that generations of hobbrim still unborn would carry out some distant, mysterious task that the lyrical strains of the Music had suggested.

Going to the Anduin would be very different. Cami knew there would be immediate struggle and danger, with much of her beloved lore hidden from sight. But unless the hobbits managed to survive and flourish, there would be no Shire or Ringbearer, and things might have a different end.

What would Maura do if faced with this dilemma? The question came jolting into her conscousness out of nowhere, with the answer following instantly behind. Maura would raise one question, only one; she was sure of that. Where am I needed the most? That is all he would want to know.

Cami sighed. The answer to that seemed clear. Those hobbits who loved learning, the healers and dreamers, poets and seers, would make Meneltarma their home. Few, if any, would travel to the Third Age.
Yet, there was real need in the Anduin for someone who had even a tiny speck of book learning and lore that could be passed on to other hobbits. As strange as it sounded to Cami, Ancalimon seemed to be hinting that she and Rose must undertake this job of teaching and healing, remembering and reciting, and helping the young ones learn decency and respect. It would be a small foothold in a dangerous place and time, Cami reflected, but at least it was somewhere to start.

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]