[piosenniel]

Amaranthas poked Pio in the side with the head of her cane. ‘Your friend, there. Is she married or spoken for?’ Pio looked up to see Cami clinging to the arm of a female Hobbit, as if for dear life. ‘Now what is that all about?’ she thought to herself. ‘And why does Amaranthas want to know if she’s married?’

‘No, she’s not married. And how does that concern you, Miz Amaranthas?’ Pio watched as Cami and the other Hobbit walked to the other side of the room, their heads bent together in conversation. Must be one of her old friends – Angelica, she reasoned.

‘That Bolger boy, there.’ Amaranthas pointed toward where Estella and Fatty stood talking. ‘I can tell he’s sweet on her. Unless you’re fortunate enough to be born a Bolger, you can’t do much better than to marry one!’

Pio spluttered in the wine she was sipping. ‘Sweet on her? Marry one?’ She took a critical look at Cami as she stood talking to her friend. Cami kept one eye on Fatty, and it didn’t appear to be for the purposes of drawing him nearer to her. In fact, she kept positioning Angelica between herself and Fatty, trying to maintain a good distance from the available Bolger male.

Cami! Stand up straight and don’t hide behind your friend. Do you need some help from me? Or can you work this out on your own?

The Elf had learned it was best to let Cami ask for assistance, and not to go charging in to fix the problem.

********************************************

Child's post

Cami had been walking across the floor with Angelica, firmly holding onto her arm, when she felt a strange but familiar sensation inside her head, as if someone was trying to speak with her. Only this time, the message was not getting through in any recognizable form. The room was warm and hazy, and her head was beginning to swim. She looked up and, at the front of the Inn, near the doorway, Piosenniel stood staring at her from across the floor.

Cami sighed. She did not need osanwe to understand exactly what was on Pio's mind. The Elf's face was filled with concern, but also held a warning to Cami that she had best be careful to protect herself and not to mislead her friend. This was very easy to say. It was not so easy to do.

Cami acknowledged that the only way to untangle this misunderstanding was to pull Fatty aside and have an honest conversation with him, at least as honest as she could be, given her peculiar set of circumstances. But the Inn was crowded, and folk were enjoying themselves, not the kind of place conducive to a private unburdening of the soul. Perhaps later, when the welcomes were over and things quieted down a bit, she might take him outside in the garden and make sure there were no misunderstandings between them.

Yet, before she could turn back to Angelica to resume her conversation, a sharp pain ran through her heart, as a hundred different thoughts intruded on her mind. None of this is fair, not for me and not for Fatty Bolger, a decent hobbit who deserves better from me than playing along in a masquerade.

If Maura was here, if he was only beside me, none of this would be happening. Everyone would understand who I was and what my commitments were. But he's not, and I am left with suitors on my doorstep, and a hobbit in the Shire remembering things from twenty years ago.

Cami tried hard to concentrate on Angelica's words, but they kept slipping away. She excused herself, turning aside for a moment to reclaim her thoughts and composure. Yet, she still could not shake the insistent voice inside her head. She remembered the books of lore she'd read that were filled with tales of lovers. Even stories of Elves and Men who had been granted the right to blend their lives together, their hearts and bodies intertwined, somehow overcoming the intrinsic differences in their nature. Why not me?, she wondered.

In all the months since the downfall of Beleriand, in all the tears she had shed, she had asked only for grace to bear the burden that Gandalf had committed to her. Even in the time of bitterness within the Tombs, when she had cried out in despair, Cami had never thrown herself down and begged the powers in the heavens that she and Maura could somehow be allowed to spend their lives together, however unworthy they might be.

She could feel her defenses crumbling, as her heart filled with the stark reality, not of despair but love. For an instant, she sensed the quiet pulse that lay at the center of Arda, and it was filled with a feeling so sweet that there were no words to describe it. Please, Varda, you are a woman as I am, in spirit if not in body. You must know something of the yearning in my heart. I will bend my neck and do what is asked of me. But can there be no other way to bring us together? Just as Beren and Luthien were permitted to hold each other's hearts for a brief space beyond death itself, is there no way to bring down the walls of time? Intercede for me, plead for me, unworthy though I am.

She stared down at the ground and bit her lip fiercely to try and stifle the tears that had begun streaming down her cheeks. Then she managed to composed herself and again set her attention on her friend and the little ones who scampered gayly about their feet.

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]