[Child of the 7th Age]

Child was helping to prepare the small emergency boat for its departure, should that need occur anytime in the next hour or two. She remembered that Sam did not know how to swim, and wondered whether or not Frodo had ever picked up the skill. Seeing how his parents had been lost, Child thought he might have made a point to acquire the art of swimming, or perhaps when he had spent time in Aman where the Sea and the shore seemed to be so much a part of daily life.

In truth, the one thing this voyage had taught here is that she did not want to wander on or live near the waters, at least for any extended time. She had even forgotten about her one-eighth share in this vessel. Or, at least it was not uppermost in her mind. She longed for the feeling of a good green field or even the gentle trees of the forest.

She smiled gently and then laughed. For here, on the edge of Doom, the Sea itself had seemingly cured her of her previous longing for the Undying West. Her Elven ancestor must indeed be higher and occupy a more distant vantage on the family tree than she had previously thought. For right now she would gladly take the cycle of the seasons with its snow and rain and summer heat and winter frost over the unvarying moderation of those distant lands.

Child truly hoped that Frodo wouldn't find things so tortured and difficult. She did not like to see him hurting so, and to her, at least, their choice seemed clear and obvious.

For if they did not fight, they would all be turned into monsters or slaves of the Blue Wizards. It was really not a question of Frodo or Samwise being different. Hope seemed so very little right now for any of them.

Either that, of if the wizards judged them useless, they might be thrust into the void. She sensed she might fall into the latter category since many big people and wizards, at least the evil ones, did not seem to care for hobbits. Not a pleasant musing, but even the void had its advantages when compared with being transformed into an orc.

Fighting and deception, at least, gave them some small hope of altering this unpleasant doom. So fighting and deception it would have to be.

And, speaking of deception, something tugged at her mind. She thought again of Tuor's words and the strange picture of Rose which Idril had shown her. For Rose had been drenched and bruised and but narrowly escaped a more severe beating. Narrowly escaped.....!? Hm, Child found that strange, quite marvelously strange. She smiled a bit in the midst of gloom and went on with her work.

[ June 19, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]