[piosenniel]

Bird opened one beady black eye, and fixed the noisy Elf with a frigid stare. Such a pleasant dream she had been having. A craggy mountain range . . . . early morning sun on her back, and the warm thermals from the valley below holding her aloft in their soft hands. Gliding, glorious gliding . . . . so far and so long . . . . without effort. The river below a silver sliver between grey walls.

She ruffled her feathers and unclenched her feet from round the branch on which she slept. Flitting down to where Holly lay sleeping, she grasped a beak full of curls and tugged hard on it. She hopped back, squawking loudly in the Hobbit’s ear as Holly’s hand reached up in her sleep to slap away the offending creature. Bird cocked her head to one side and watched as Holly settled back into sleep. Hopping close to her again, she hissed in her ear. ‘Wake up! I need some company.’

‘Oh Bird!’ came the drowsy mumbling of the Hobbit. ‘First the screaming Elf, now you. Let me sleep. Please!’ Holly pulled the blankets over her head, shutting her eyes and ears against the insistent jackdaw.

‘Bird! Is that you?’ Volondil’s voice carried from the makeshift shelter in which he had lain resting. Should have been resting, that is, except for the dull ache of his healing scar. No matter the position he tried, he could not get comfortable. For hours now, he had lain silently awake, turning from one side to the other, listening to the sounds of the camp in darkness. Nardol’s pained cry had rent the muted murmurings of the night, bringing Volondil to a sitting position. The suddenness of the movement made him gasp softly with pain, and now he sat holding his side, willing the misery to subside.

‘Come help me up.’ he called quietly to her. A soft flutter of wings brought her to his side. Then a momentary flutter of her small image in the darkness played tricks with his eyes, and there she stood before him, offering a hand up. ‘Thank you.’ he whispered, holding tight to her small hand.

He put his arm about her shoulders, as if for support. ‘Walk with me. I need to stretch my legs.’ She saw him wince in the moonlight as he took the first step, and she slipped her arm about the small of his back to offer more support.

It was only a brief walk. He grew tired and Bird helped him back to his bed. ‘Stay and talk just a little, if you will.’ he asked her, sighing as his muscles relaxed, and the ache softened. He kept her hand within his own, and his eyes closed against his will.

‘I’ll sing you a song to lull you to sleep, to bring you sweet dreamings. She sang softly, watching his face relax, and his breath come slow and even.

What does little birdie say
In her nest at peep of day?
Let me fly, says little birdie,
Mother, let me fly away.
Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till thy little wings are stronger.
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies away.

What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie,
Let me rise and fly away.
Baby, sleep a little longer,
Till thy little limbs are stronger.
If she sleeps a little longer,
Baby too shall fly away.

Bird gently drew her hand from his and walked back to where Holly lay, her head resting on her arm, eyes open, watching her friend approach. ‘Not a word!’ said Bird, shaking her finger at Holly. ‘Not now!’

She leaped, spreading her wings, and taking flight, a small jackdaw once again. Placing her head beneath her wing, she willed herself to sleep – back to dreams of riding the mountain thermals. But sleep did not come easily. She ruffled her feathers, flapping her wings in annoyance. Restless, she flew to a small, nearby clearing and landed in the center of it.

Raising her wings upward, she felt her feet sink deep into the ground beneath them, spreading out, gathering nourishment from the earth. Branches reached for the night sky, torso thickened and stiffened. Time slowed down for her. She needed to think.

_________________________________________

Lullabye by Alfred Lord Tennyson

[ January 04, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]