[Child of the 7th Age]

Maura instinctively gripped Cami's hand in his as the couple watched Mithadan take each of the children in turn, cradle them in his arms, and speak the names by which they would be called. Isilmir and Gilwen....fine names indeed. Fine names for a son and a daughter who would surely bring joy to their kin as they grew up under the protective shield of their parents' overarching love.

His wife's head was nestled softly against his shoulder, almost like a little child herself. She looked so terribly fragile, so small and vulnerable to everything that was happening that day. He wished he could take her in his arms and make the pain disappear just as his own mother had done for him whenever he had encountered some minor hurt or disappointment.

But his wife was no child. She was a woman whose brown hair was streaked with silver, who had known her share of grief and toil, and had voluntarily left everything she knew to journey on the Star and follow her people on their migration homeward. Only now the voyage was ended. Truly ended. Cami had given her word as Gandalf had required, and, against all expectations, the hobbits had found a home. Only now, personal miracles were in short supply. No, he could not shield her.

In the midst of these reflections, Maura felt a slight stirring at his elbow and glanced downward. "Are you alright?" he whispered intently in Cami's ear.

His wife nodded uneasily, her eyes brimming with tears that she stubbornly refused to let fall. "Maura, could you make sure the children are put to bed? I'll be back soon. I promise."

Maura nodded mutely as he watched Cami vanish down the hallway where Pio had taken the twins a short while before. That evening, he would have agreed to almost anything she requested. He collected Holly in his arms, escorted Rose back to her chamber, and then led Gamba and his brothers over to their quarters in the stables.

When Maura approached Asta for a final goodnight and stopped to tuck him into bed, the lad watched him with wary eyes and tremulously murmurred, "Will we be a family... like you said, or are you going away?"

The words cut like a knife. Concealing his own feelings of indecision and doubt, the older hobbit spoke in an even voice and ran his fingers through Asta's towseled curls. "I do not know if I can come, but your mother and I are trying. Whether I am there or not, I love you." Maura tugged the covers up and tucked in each of the younger boys with a final kiss or other gesture of affection.

Gamba, who was the last in line, paced the floor uneasily, finally going over to a chair by the open window where he sat down and stared at the Inn. Maura had never found the older boy easy to deal with, but over the months he had earned Gamba's grudging respect. But now the lad sat stiff as a ramrod refusing to budge or soften the goodbyes with an embrace or kind word; he tossed out a curt retort encapsulated in bitterness, "You'll go away, just like the others."

There was no reason to ask for further explanation. Maura had heard enough tales about the Star and Numenor to understand exactly what the older lad had meant. Maura stood up and walked over to the stable door, unlatching the gate and swinging it outward. Then he hesitated for an instant and turned around to shake his head, "I hope not. By all the Powers in this upside-down world, I certainly hope not," vanishing down the pathway in the direction of the Dragon.

[ August 10, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]