[piosenniel]

2 Cermië

Cami had long gone home. Nothing had been resolved, and Pio did not expect that it would be. Cami would mull over the choices with Maura and they would make their decision as best they could. That is how decisions in the ordinary world, this ordinary life, were made.

The Valar and their rule-bound gifts! Do you think so poorly of us to say such a thing?

Lorien stepped through the gap in the hedge and approached Pio as she sat nursing her son. It was the wee hours before dawn, the sky still dark, though the stars were beginning to fade before the promise of morning’s light.

You always set people up to fail, or so it seems to me, Lorien. The Valar give with one hand, and forbid with the other. And damned and doomed are we from Eldar to earthworm because we cannot maintain a graceful, grateful balance.

Pio glanced up at the Vala’s face, clear now in the small lantern that hung from the porch beam. It was paler and more drawn than she remembered.

‘Come sit with me,’ she said in a more gentle manner, patting the well-worn boards beside her. ‘And forgive me the harshness of how my words must have sounded to you.’

He gathered up the robes round his slender frame and sat near her, his bare feet resting on the long, wide step below. ‘And yet, the thought behind those words you do not take back, do you?’

Her son, his stomach full, had drifted off to his baby dreamings once again, his little lips slack in sleep. Pio placed a folded blanket along Lorien’s lap and much to the consternation of the Master of Spirits, she settled the boy comfortably along his legs. ‘Just sway your legs gently . . . like this.’ The Vala’s knees went back and forth in a slow rhythm, prompted by a push from Pio’s hands.

Picking up her daughter, she placed her back on her own knees and rocked her, too. ‘No, my thoughts remain the same, Lorien. But you have caught me in a tired state, and they could have been given in a kinder manner.’

She watched as Lorien bent curiously over the baby, one finger exploring the soft hair that curled about his tiny ear, then drifting down to trace the creases in the little palm. The boy, his eyes still closed, grasped tightly the Vala’s slender fingertip. ‘Strong!’ he said softly, as the boy clung to him, then shifting in his sleep, let go.

‘Yes, they are strong in their own way, these Second Born.’ Her hand caressed her daughter’s little one.

Arda is their sphere, now, Lorien. The Elves are sailing West and will fade to some pleasant memory in time, the subjects, perhaps, of some curious and touching story. The stories of Men will be their own.She stroked her daughter’s cheek, watching as the little mouth sought the source of pressure greedily. The Flame that burns in the fëar of Men will make different choices and different paths. Do you not think so?

He was quiet, saying nothing.

Even the Valar, and the memory of them, will fade as the short-lived generations of Men pile one upon the other. That is your fate and mine, Lorien, or so I see it.’

Pio yawned widely, and sighed. ‘I am tired. I need to sleep while these little ones grant me that privilege.’ She laughed softly and placed them both in their carrying basket. Lorien stood, and offered her a hand up. He stooped to pick up the basket and carried it to her rooms, watching as she settled the babies into their cradle.

She walked him to the door. The Inn was still quiet, the only other one up was Cook, who busied herself with the early morning routine of baking, unconcerned about the workings of the world beyond her kitchen.

‘Cami and Maura are probably sleeping fitfully,’ she remarked to him as he stepped out the door, heading for his own room. ‘having spent much of the night working through the decision they must make. Cami will be, even now, worrying how her choices will affect those around her. I can feel her toss and turn in her husband’s arms. Restful sleep eluding her.’

She put her hand out and stayed him as he turned to walk up the stairs. ‘Dreams alone are your dominion, Lorien. So Cami told me were your words to her. If you cannot help her in any other way, then grant her restful ones for now. That the new day will be a little brighter for her.’

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

Child's post:

Lying curled up on her side with her head nestled on Maura's shoulder, Cami stared at the stars through the nearby open window and frantically sifted through the words that Lorien and Pio had entrusted to her, searching for some magical answer to her dilemma. But, no matter how hard she tried, she could not find a solution. The jagged edges of her thoughts kept chasing around within her brain until she somehow managed to fall into a deep, dreamless slumber, from which she did not emerge until mid-morning.

Maura had already been up for some time, tending to Holly's needs and venturing out for a short while into the meadow on the far side of the pond. He'd brought down a nice brace of coneys for lunch and set a pot of stew over the fire along with some carrots and wild onions he and the boys had collected from the day before. After eating, the two of them sat side-by-side discussing what they should do.

They managed to agree on just one thing. They would reach their final decision by nightfall, and, once that decision was made, would not question it or look back. Instead, they would push their deep concerns aside and focus on what little time they had left in the Shire. But they had yet to reach agreement on exactly what that final decision should be.

Cami had begged Maura to come up with an idea, any idea, that might offer some small measure of hope, while still enabling them to honor the promises they'd made to Ancalimon on that snowy night in Dorthonion so very long ago. She'd dismissed Lorien's pointed words about the hardship that might fall on Bilbo and Gandalf because of the promises they had made. Those offers of aid had been freely and lovingly given, but neither she nor Maura had asked for such assistance, or been consulted in any way. She could not be responsible for other people's decisions.

But the pull of friendship was another thing. Gandalf and Bilbo were close to her heart. She had enormous respect for the wizard, and considered Bilbo almost like a father. She could not simply pretend that those feelings didn't exist. Nor did she like to think of herself as a person who backed out of promises just because conditions had changed and made them more difficult to carry out.

Cami shook her head in frustration, and looked over at Maura, reflecting, "Things seemed easier in the prison camps. Yes was yes, and no was no. I knew exactly who the enemy was."

Then she laughed, "Don't you remember the night we found Andreth's journal?" Cami nodded towards the shelf where Maura had placed the book the first night they'd come there. "How excited we were! How we poured over the words of Finrod and the Wise Woman. It seemed to be a magic answer to all the hardship of the camps."

She stopped for a moment to scan the horizon, searching for her young charge, and was not surprised to see that Holly had managed to crawl into the lowest branches of a nearby tree. Cami kept staring intently, but held back from interfering untl she finally saw the girl carefully back down and come scampering towards them again.

Maura chuckled and observed, "You watch her. You watch her all the time, but she never knows that. She just goes about her business and has no idea of how you're guarding her."

Maura's eyes opened wide as he realized what he'd said. Abruptly, he stood up and hurried over to the shelf where Andreth's journal sat. The hobbit thumbed feverishly through its pages until he came upon the passages he wanted, then quickly skimmed over them. Tucking the book under his belt, he turned again to look at his wife, "Cami, I have an idea. I saw you quietly guarding Holly, and then I thought of Andreth's journal and something else that Piosenniel said last night. It's probably foolish. No hobbit of the Third or Fourth Age would even think of such a possibility. Only someone like myself who'd lived among Elves."

Cami looked at him quizically. The only Elf she knew was Piosenniel, and Maura's words didn't seem to make any sense. His grey eyes darted back at her again, "Did you mean it yesterday when you said that Bilbo was like a father to you?"

"A father?" She stopped and reflected seriously a moment. "Yes, I meant it. He has said as much to me. If Frodo is his beloved son and heir, I am the daughter of his heart, and for that I am enormously grateful."

Maura shook his head and began impatiently walking in circles, "And a father has the right to plead for a daughter. Surely even the great powers of the world would feel that way. And especially so for hobbits who regard family as so important."

Cami scratched her head, "What are you talking about? I don't understand a word you're saying."

"I'll explain later. I promise. I need to go to the Inn and have a talk with Frodo and Bilbo."

He gave one last glance back at her and leaned down and kissed her brown curls. "Do not despair, little one. Perhaps this thing is possible. Drop Holly off with Minta. I'll meet you at Sam's. We've a wedding and a party to plan." Then he quickly ran off on the path in the direction of the Green Dragon.

For the next two hours, Maura sat closeted with Frodo and Bilbo as they poured over ancient texts. Bilbo had shot Maura a knowing look, and explained that he'd also been thinking of this for some time now.

They read over the story of Elwing, Earendil's sweet lady who flew in the guise of a snowy white bird to greet her husband's ship so the two could come together again. And especially they studied the tale of Beren and Luthien that offered some measure of comfort and hope. Some power in Arda did seem to be willing to bend the rules for those whose hearts were bound in love.

"Do you think such a plea possible?" Maura grilled Bilbo.

The older hobbit shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Possible, yes. Anything is possible. We have no certainties.
We do not even know what lies beyond. But if it is possible, I will try."

"I don't know," Maura shook his head. "Luthien was a great and beautiful lady, with the blood of the immortals in her veins. Who would consider the plea of two hobbits who are so small in the overall scheme of things?"

It was Frodo who spoke up now. "There is no deserving or earning such a gift. Not by an immortal or anyone else. There is only asking and hoping. What the Elves term estel. But without the asking, we will never know."

With that, the three hobbits quickly put their books away, heading in the direction of Sam's house to discuss party and wedding plans with renewed vigor in their hearts.

[ May 13, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]