In the Shadow of the Star: Part 1

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Old Stoat found his postition was uncomfortable; peering through the little Town Hall window. It was also frustrating. He could see all sorts of goings-on that he did indeed find interesting, but could hear not a word of it. He had watched various agitated characters stomp about at the front of the room with much finger wagging and scarlet faces. Something had fair upset the little folk and Stoatie could not supress a smile of pride if, as he thought, it was his actions that had led them into this frenzy. That said, his continued presence was of little use. Ferny had sent him to spy and gather useful information; all this told him was something had upset the halflings. It could be the actions of the men, it could be any petty squabble the creatures seemed to delight in.

With surprising delicacy he removed himself from the woodshed roof and landed with nought but the softest of thuds upon the soft turf. He had seen Hobbits leave the building and head across the town. He knew the inn was in the rough direction of their to-ing and fro-ing. Perhaps a little trip over there would prove more profitable. He had heard the rumours that there was a most exceptional landlady at the pub. Stoatie decided to check up and see just how exceptional she was.

Darkness was finally beginning to envelop the town and he found it easy enough to dart from the shadow of one gateway to the wall of a vegetable patch. He hesitated momentariliy by an open window. A child's rhyme crossed his mind a moment at the sight of a pie, set to cool upon the sill. He grinned. The pie disappeared. Such an action was not reckless when one knows for sure that they will not be caught.

So it came that he was standing in the gloom outside the inn. He could already hear voices clearly drifting from an open window upon the night air. He had made the right choice leaving the Town Hall. Old Stoat was sure a little snooping here would be far more useful to Ferny and himself.

[Nurumaiel]

Angelica finished setting the table and lifted the lid to the pot, peering in. "Almost ready," she said with satisfaction. She could hear Fosco pounding on the kitchen door. She had been forced to close it and lock him out after he decided the potatoes were good for nothing but throwing at Madoc, who immediately threw one back. Well, it looked as though they could come back in now… soon. Dinner wouldn't be ready for another few minutes.

Angelica collapsed in a chair with a yawn. As the sun set slowly the sky began to dim and Hobbiton drew quiet as the Hobbits retreated into their beds after a good dinner. The Muddyfoots, however, had been late for everything that day. They woke up late, had breakfast late, and so on, and now they were having dinner while everyone else was falling peacefully asleep.

"Sleep," Angelica whispered, leaning back. Her eyes began to close, and then sleep took her.

She was awoken an hour later by a loud pounding at the kitchen door. Opening her eyes, she found that the room was just beginning to fill with smoke. "Fire?" It was more of a question than a scream. Angelica stumbled to the door and unlocked it. Merimac burst in and, after being assured that his wife was all right, went to where the smoke was coming from.

A groan escaped from Angelica and she sat down, trying to fight back the tears that threatened her. Dinner had burned. Why had everything been going so horribly wrong lately? She looked guiltily at the children, and Madoc looked back at her with eyes trying to disguise the hunger. He knew what had happened. Prisca toddled forward and stared up at her mother. "Mummy, where's the food? What's this black stuff?"

"It's grey," Fosco said, glaring at his twin sister. "It's smoke, and that means there's a fire." His eyes narrowed even more. "And do you know what that means? It means someone burned up and died!"

A little cry was Prisca's answer as she stared in wide-eyed fear at her brother. Angelica picked up the girl. "Hush, Fosco," she said. "Nobody's burned and died. Don't scare your sister like that. There isn't a fire, either. It's just that our… food… burned!" The last word came out in a despairing wail.

"Well, good," said Fosco smugly. "I didn't want those old potatoes and stuff anyway. I saw Mummy make bread today and she said I couldn't have it. Maybe now you're sorry."

"Bread and butter for dinner…" Merimac, having finished dealing with the burned dinner, stepped forward eagerly and put an arm around his wife. "That sounds wonderful, Angelica. Do you think we could?"

Angelica looked for a moment surprised, then her face brightened. "Why, yes!… I mean I suppose so… I mean perhaps… I mean… of course."

"Wonderful," said Merimac.

Half an hour later, the two were cleaning up the kitchen together. Angelica had her eyes on her husband the whole time. She had to admit she was very puzzled. Usually after dinner he'd go rest for a little while after the long day. And he knew she was quite capable of cleaning the kitchen herself. "Merimac," she said, deciding not to ask him about it directly, "how was your work today? Did anything happen in the fields?"

"Yes, a lot happened," said Merimac. "We worked hard, and I'm exhausted."

"Then you should rest."

"You're wondering why I'm still in here, aren't you?" Merimac asked. He smiled. "I see I haven't gone unnoticed, if you know my usual habits."

Angelica smiled.

"Well, Angelica, I wanted to talk to you… it's not really important, but I just want to get it off my mind. I just wanted to talk about those kidnappings for just a little while, so I wouldn't be so bothered - "

"Kidnappings?" Angelica cried, then lowered her voice as Merimac gestured with his eyes that the children were in the room across. "What kidnappings?"

"You mean you haven't heard?"

Angelica shook her head, so Merimac told her all he knew about the kidnappings, and she listened, wide-eyed, her heart beating a little faster. Her eyes kept turning towards the door of the room across the hall to make sure the three children were still there.

When Merimac finished, Angelica spoke firmly. "As long as they've caught him it's all right," she said with a little smile. "Otherwise I'd be fearing for my children's safety."

"But they haven't caught him yet," said Merimac softly.

Angelica gave him one long, hard, searching stare, then turned abruptly and crossed the hall. "Children," Merimac heard her say, "do not leave the house without first getting permission from myself or- " She paused a moment and looked back at the kitchen, and seeing the look in Merimac's eyes, scowled and repeated, "Without getting permission from myself."

When she returned Merimac said gently, "Angelica, don't you think you're worrying a little overmuch?"

"No," she said coldly, going to the table and picking up the empty dishes.

"The kidnappings took place far from here."

"There is no guarantee the kidnapper will stay there," she said, stopping and turning around, "and I for one, Merimac Muddyfoot, will be taking no risks with my children!" She began to breathe hard, her eyes wide.

Merimac looked straight into her eyes. "Maybe it would be better for you to say it," he said, not even trying to conceal the gentle pity in his voice. "Maybe it would make you feel better."

Angelica stepped forward into his arms. "All right," she said hoarsely. "Merimac, I'm afraid."

[ April 02, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Orual]

Sam surveyed the group as he read the list of names before him. He saw an uneasy bunch of people, many clutching their young children close to them. Sam shook his head just a little. The meeting hadn't gone quite as well as he had hoped, with people throwing accusations and wild speculation around, but at least they had gotten something done. He had learned something from Cotman Bolger, at least, if he could only do something about it. The patrols and flyers were well and good, but (though he hated to admit it), Hob had a point. They didn't know who these fellows were, what they were doing in the Shire, or even if the still were in the Shire. Sam sighed deeply when he finished reading the names, and received puzzled looks. He smiled apologetically.

"Thank you for coming, and for your ideas. Stay safe, keep an eye on your children, and children, keep an eye out for strangers. We will do all we can to get rid of this threat, and we all appreciate your help. Thank you. Good night."

Sam stepped down from the podium and went straight to his family. He and Rose spoke for a moment, evaluating the meeting, and then he turned to Elanor. He fairly beamed, and took his daughter by the shoulders. "Ellie, I'm very proud of you," he said. "While all the adults were squabbling and fighting among themselves, you spoke sense. Those flyers were a fine idea, Ellie, a great idea. Not many fathers have this much reason to be proud of their girls." He gave her a hug, then stood up. It was time to go home.

[ April 04, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]

[piosenniel]

Gilly wandered into the kitchen to find something to eat. She loaded up a plate with bread and jam, cookies plundered from the stock in the pantry, and a crisp Shire apple. Fixing herself a large mug of tea sweetened with fireweed honey she took the servants’ staircase up to the second level and went to her corner room.

The full moon was up and shone brightly through her open window. Wishing to sit in peace, watching the stars and the listening to the quiet chirrup of the crickets in the eaves, she left the room in darkness, and sat at the table by the window. From below she could hear the sound of voices floating up from the open window in the Common Room. Piosenniel was talking in a serious tone to someone, another woman. Their voices were low, the words indistinct.

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Cami had come into Inn fast on the heels of Cotman. Pio, sitting at the small table that she and Gilly had previously shared, was looking over a list of the Green Dragon’s accounts. She glanced up as the door thudded shut and smiled, motioning Cami over to sit with her.

‘Is the meeting over already?’ Pio put down her pen and piled the papers to the side.

Cami shook her head ‘no’, and sat down quickly, asking Pio if she’d seen Bird lately. ‘Not seen her exactly, but I have heard her about.’ She smiled recalling the flutter of wings heard often in the tree outside her front room window, the occasional contented neek-breek when a small saucer of ale was left on the window’s sill. And late at night when all were sleeping, except the twins, the soft pad of barefeet seeking food in the kitchen. Or heading down the lane toward the woods that edged the Pool, the moon’s half-light glinting in her silvered hair.

‘Can you contact her? I need to speak with her.’ Cami went on to explain what had gone on at the meeting, and what Maura wanted Bird to attempt. Pio described the flavor of the smaller meeting that had just broken up that the Inn. She confided to her friend that she had the urge to pack up and take herself and Mithadan, Bird, and the babies as far as possible from the Shire. ‘They hate us here, Cami. It matters not that we have done nothing to them. We are Big Folk, and they want us gone.’ She leaned her chin on her palm, and looked out the window. ‘I am uneasy here. And were you not here, I would go quickly.’

She turned her head back to look at her friend. ‘Bird, yes, I will try to find her for you. Shall I send her to your burrow by the pool?’ Her hand went across the table, seeking Cami’s. ‘There is something I meant to speak about to you earlier . . .’ Cami leaned in closer, wondering what her friend might say.

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Gilly sat back in her chair. She was here by herself she could afford to flout convention. She eased her feet up to the table top, ankles crossed, and perched her tea mug on the sill. She was just reaching across to get the last of the cookies, when her elbow brushed the mug and it fell crashing to the wooden walkway below. The front legs of her chair came crashing down on the floor and she leaned out the window to see where it had fallen.

A furtive movement caught her eye, running round the corner of the inn. Someone crouched over, fleeing from shadow to shadow. She gasped, as she stood, her hands grasping the sill hard. It was a Man . . .

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Pio and Cami jumped as the mug crashed and splintered on the wooden walk outside their window. Gilly came rushing down the stairs, eyes wide, shouting.

‘A Man! A Man, Mistress Piosenniel! Running from the window and across the back yard of the Inn . . .’

[Birdland]

Everything was going very, very wrong. It seemed that the Shire tossed in its sleep like a child beset by nightmares. What had started as minor glaces and raised eyebrows had grown into dark glares and angry mutterings across kitchen gates. The joining of Maura and Cami had been a welcome distraction, but the good fellowship that had sprung naturally from the joining of the two halflings was wearing thin.

Bird had wanted to leave as soon as the ceremony was done, but she would not leave without Pio and Mith, and Elf or no, her friend was in no condition to travel.

So the little skinchanger had reverted to jackdaw form, and had taken to the air, flying over the four farthings and beyond, clear to Lake Evendim and the lonely ruins of Annúminas.

There she had camped for a few days, brooding on the glory and folly of Men. While there she had watched as a company of Dunedain had visited the lost ruins themselves, dwelling over old maps and recording measurements and conditions of old palaces and towers.

Bird knew that the King intended to expand his realm again into Arnor that was, and supposed that this was the advance guard of builders, craftsmen and soldiers who would come to reclaim Annúminas for Elessar. She wondered darkly how they would respond to news that Mithadan, as well as other lesser men, were in the Shire, making the little country hum like a disturbed hive of angry bees.

From there she had flown south, over the Dim Hills and the Western Moors to Undertowers, where she had spent a few days with her old friend Holly. There she had told Holly and Olo all about the doings on the shores of Lake Evendim, and unburdened her heart concerning the troubles in the Shire and her own part in it.

But it seemed that the denizens of Undertowers were absorbing their own "Elvish airs" from their closer proximity to the Havens. The outlyers of the far West Farthing seemed more and more to disconnect themselves from their more settled, stodgy cousins in the Shire, and looked to the West more often than the East. Bird would not be surprised to find that eventually they would found their own separate country in time.

But despite these wanderings, Birdie would return again and again to Bywater and Hobbiton, checking in with Pio, Cami, and Mith, but refusing to change into human form at all anywhere within the borders of the Shire.

She blamed plain Elven and Mannish stubborness for her friends continuing presence in the land of Suza. Cami's appearance she regarded as bittersweet. At least she could claim this as her original home, but Bird felt that her coming back, even if it meant a long-desired reunion with Maura, was keeping her from her duties in the First Age. This whole, long, outlandish episode made the skinchanger nervous and fretful. She held her tongue, but continued to watch, and worry. But all the same, she continued to stay.

She had watched the meeting, a small black shadow hidden high in the rafters, and was flitting through the darkness to return to the opened window of the inn, when she heard the crash of the mug and the shouts of alarm from the halfling maid. a shadowy form, dark as her own, but definitely man sized, could be seen running for the shelter of a hedgerow and a small wood beyond. Bird cursed under her breath and shook her feathers in agitation. Then she took off after the figure, scanning the skies fearfully for predators.

"I suppose I'd best follow this brigand and see what mischief he's up to. But if I wind up as an owl's dinner from flying after dark, it will be all Pio's fault!"

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami looked up, startled to see Gilly come racing into the room with this disturbing piece of news. Before she could even move from her chair, Piosenniel had already sprinted over to the door and darted out into the courtyard, vainly trying to get a closer look at the miscreant before he disappeared under the inky cover of night

Pio caught the slightest glimpse of a shadowy-cloaked form fading into the bushes. The prowler was already a good ways off, clearly heading northward. But the foliage obstructed her sight, and the Elf could not see whether his path lay straight ahead, perhaps across the river, or veered off in one direction or the other.

Pio cursed her lumbering form which prevented her from giving swift and immediate chase on foot and successfuly bringing the Man to bay. In one final gesture of futility, she raced to the stables and threw herself across Falmar's back, and clattered out of the courtyard, attempting to give pursuit. About an hour later, she reappeared with a grim look upon her face. Her expression clearly showed that, like the others who'd pursued the Men, she'd met with little success.

The Elf glanced briefly in Cami's direction and muttered under her breath, "The countryside swallowed him up. I couldn't find him anywhere." Then Pio quickly retired to her room. Whatever she'd meant to tell Cami earlier was now left unsaid.

In complete frustration, Cami sat down at the table and brought her clasped hands up to cover her eyes, wanting to shut out all the events of the past day. For one moment, her thoughts turned bitter as she assessed her own situation and that of her friends. Anger swelled up. Anger directed against herself as well as a desire to strike out at whoever was behind these nefarious doings. She had so little time with Maura, so few minutes to be together, yet it was all to be tainted by this travesty.

At the same time, another voice inside her mind guiltily suggested that she herself was to blame for these problems, or at least for the fact that her dear friends were here. If she had never come, her friend Piosenniel would have left many months ago, returning to Gondor and avoiding all this unpleasantness. Mithdan and Bird would never even have come.

But they were here. And, as much as Cami cared for Bird and Pio and Mith, she could not turn a blind eye on the needs of her own people, especially the children who'd done nothing to deserve such a fate. She walked slowly over to the kitchen and secured a small saucer filled with ale to set out on the ledge, hoping to attract the wayward Bird.

She wasn't sure how long she'd sat there waiting, slowly nodding off. It wasn't until a hour or so later that she awoke. There was no Bird, and the saucer sat untouched. She quietly rose to her feet, and left the Inn, going back down to the burrow to await Maura's return from the meeting.

[ April 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Before the crockery had even hit the ground Stoat had seen it falling. He had only heard half the conversation between the two women and although he had gleaned a little of use he could not stay to listen to any more. The mug shattered upon the verandah and he was off. He was confident of his route and turned not back. Leaping the bracken and dodging behind the Silver Birch that almost glowed in the light of the newly risen moon he did his best to vanish. He could not guarentee he had not been spotted in some way but the speed of his movements ensured they would not know him if ever their paths crossed again.

Eventually well into the wood that curved close to Hobbiton he collapsed between the sturdy roots of an ancient Elm. He was drenched in sweat and breathed loud and heavy. He reined in his breathing steadily while listening for any sould of persuit. Several minutes past. Several more. After a long while he thought he heard the chink of iron on stone as a horse proceeded along the lane nearby. The horse or perhaps another returned toward the town. No further sound but nature disturbed him.

Old Stoat rose and without even bothering to dust himself down began his weary way back to Ferny. He had precious little information it was true but he hoped what little there was would prove to be precious indeed.

[piosenniel]

Gilly grabbed one of the lit lanterns from the shelf behind the bar, along with the stout club she saw leaning against the wall and ran out after Pio. She threw the shade of the lantern open wide and shone it about the darkened yard, walking boldly about the perimeter of the Inn, making loud noises. If there were anymore ruffians about, she meant to flush them out and raise the alarm. She had a strong right arm on her from work on her family’s little holding, and there was many a marauding fox and weasel that limped along on three legs after an encounter with her in the chicken coop.

Her heart was pumping wildly as she walked on patrol, though her thoughts were steady, and her senses alert. Once round the Inn and all was quiet. A small crate at the corner of the veranda afforded her a place to sit and watch the entrance to the Inn, the two main windows, and the road leading up to the Inn’s entry path. The light from the window nearest her, did not reach to this corner, and she hooded the lantern, throwing her vantage point into complete darkness.

She saw Mistress Piosenniel come riding back to the Inn, and clamber off her horse, turning the beast loose to find her way back to her stall. From the sag of her shoulders, she could tell that the chase had not been a successful one. Her estimation of her new employer went up several notches seeing her not hesitate to rise to the threat. Miz Amaranthas had been right when she wrote Gilly that Miz Pio would prove an interesting person to work with. This should turn out to be just the sort of challenge Gilly craved. Something out of the ordinary.

All was quiet. She slipped out her carving knife from the small sheath on the belt at her waist, and picked up a piece of kindling from the pile at the side of the building. It was too dark to whittle a figure, but she kept her hands busy shaving curls of wood from the stick. Halfway through a third piece, she heard the crunch of footsteps on the graveled road, nearing the turn in to the Green Dragon's pathway. Resheathing her knife, she picked up the club and watched the figure approach.

Someone in a long cloak, hood up. Too short to be a Man, she thought. Gilly waited until the figure drew near, then stepped out into the light, the club held securely in her hand. A girl, it was – her age, she thought. Gilly opened the hood of the lantern to better see the girl's face.

‘And who are you, Miss?’ asked Gilly, politely enough. ‘And what is your business at the Inn tonight?’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami looked up as she heard the latch turn and saw the door swing slowly inward. Maura padded noiselessly inside, and crouched down on the floor near the hearth, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

"I thought you might be sleeping." He glanced over towards his wife.

Cami sighed, "I couldn't. I just couldn't. The meeting. It's ended?"

Maura nodded yes, then stared at the soft glowing embers and shook his head.

"So bad?" Cami approached him and set her hand on his shoulder, leaing over to place a soft kiss on top of his silver curls.

"It was alright. There were no more squabbles. And we did accomplish some things. The children promised to pass out flyers, and other hobbits agreed to patrol the roads. Rose and I are to offer simple lessons for those who own a bow or dagger."

"But you're still upset?" Cami prodded.

"A little. Even now, we know nothing about who these people are, or what they want. And I don't like to see big and little folk quarrel like this. In Beleriand, for countless years, my family and others stood side-by-side with the Edain. My grandfather fought and died in defense of the secret hideout in Ladros. I find it hard to sit and listen to hobbits who voice such terrible suspicions of Men, painting them all with the same black brush."

He hesitated and then continued. "You know Cami, I have a feeling. This time, we may find ourselves fighting shoulder to shoulder."

Cami nodded. She was quite prepared to do that. Then she curled up near her husband and told him how Gilly had glimpsed an intruder, and how Bird had disappeared before she could even speak with her. Maura took Cami's hand in his own, reassuring his wife that he had spoken to Gamba, and that the lad had promised to be careful, at least as careful as boys can be.

"Where's Holly?" he queried.

"She's asleep." Cami pointed to a small bundle in the back room, carefully tucked inside a heap of blankets.

Then Maura stretched out on the pallet and silently drew her to his side. They came together in joy and sweetness, knowing their time was too precious to waste, even with the heartache of the evening. For a moment, the worries of the day were pushed back, and they knew only that they were fiercely happy to have this little space in one another's arms. They fell asleep soon afterward, and slept peacefully until early morning when the sound of songbirds awakened them.

[ April 04, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bilbo awoke with a start and padded over to the window to gaze outside. He had deliberately avoided the meeting and gone to bed before Frodo had come back. From the look of the stars he could now glimpse in the heavens, he judged it to be shortly after midnight.

Frodo had evidently not returned to his bed, since it looked the same as when Ruby had come that morning to turn down the sheets and tidy up the room. A quick glance down the hall confirmed that his nephew was nowhere to be seen. Bilbo threw a jacket over his shoulders, pulled on a pair of breeches, and went downstairs. There was no sign of Frodo in the common room or kitchen. Pushing open the back door, he continued his search into the courtyard.

There, he finally spotted his nephew. Frodo was quietly sitting on the ground under a large tree, with his head tossed back and his eyes sweeping across the skies. He was alone, with an intent look on his face.

"Frodo, are you alright?" Bilbo queried as he hurried over to his nephew.

For a long time, neither hobbit spoke. Then Frodo broke the silence with an observation. "You know, wherever they are, those kidnapped children can look out and see these stars. That is, if the bandits let them look outside...."

Frodo sighed, shook his head, and stared back at his uncle. "Bilbo, what am I going to do? I have a feeling something is going to happen, and I'll have to make a choice. Maura Took got an extra sword from Hob. He gave it to me for when I go out on patrol to guard the roads. I didn't have the heart to tell him no, but I can scarcely bear to have the thing in my hand."

Bilbo's eyes looked down to where Frodo had let the sword slip loose from his fingers. It lay there beside him in the grass.

"You know, I even thought about walking away. But I can't walk away from children. Not after the time I spent with Sam and his family. How would I feel if the bandits took one of them?"

"You will use it then?" Bilbo's voice was gentle and compassionate.

Frodo shook his head, "You know how I hate fighting after what happened at ...." He let his words go unfinished. "But I can't sit still while a child is kidnapped or murdered. I hope it won't come to that. But, if it does, yes, I'll fight."

He looked up one last time at Bilbo, "You still feel it's time to go, don't you?"

Bilbo smiled gently and nodded, "I'm sure of it. Being here and seeing all this has made me certain. I'm ready to move on, Frodo."

"But no one knows what's out there." Frodo objected softly. "I wouldn't feel so badly if I knew you'd be alright."

"Well, lad, this is one open road where I'll never know what lies at the other end until I actually set my foot on it. I've come all these years trusting that things would work out. Old habits die hard. I'll keep trusting and going forward. And if there's any feeling or knowing beyond, I'll miss you and wait for you."

"You're ready, too, Frodo. You're ready to go forward on your own. You've always needed someone to give you a nudge out the door. Once Gandalf did that. Now, it looks as if it's my turn."

He softly embraced the lad and the two went back upstairs and settled in for the night.

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


As the morning sun peered over the horizon, Bilbo quietly slipped out of bed. All his life, he'd given generously to those around him, although he often took pains to hide that fact. The time for generous gifts had passed, but he still could not shake loose his long accustomed habit of trying to set things right.

With a quick glance at his nephew who still lay asleep, Bilbo left the Inn, walking purposefully towards the pond. Back in Tol Eressea, he did not generally rise this early, preferring to stay up later at night and enjoy the multitude of sparkling stars. Since his return to the Shire, however, he seemed to need less sleep, so that it mattered little what hour he awoke or chose to go to bed.

Just the day before, he and Cami had been talking. Both agreed they had seen too little of each other, and should try to make up for that in the short time they both had left. Maura suggested Bilbo visit them at the burrow so they could eat breakfast together, not just today but any morning when he had a yen to come.

Cami set out a fine spread of hot tea and berries, thick slices of ham, a small crock of hard-boiled eggs, and newly baked bread, with pots of honey and jam alongside.

"You seem to have settled in nicely," Bilbo approvingly noted.

"Indeed, we have," Cami glanced quickly over to the far side of the pond where the toddler and Maura were playing. Maura was giving Holly a ride in the rope swing, pushing her animatedly back and forth while she giggled and urged him to go even faster.

"Your boys, Cami, how are they faring?"

"That's never easy, as I'm sure you've guessed. They still sleep on their own in the stables. But Maura has somehow convinced Gamba to drop by most evenings for supper so I can give the little ones a cuddle and a bedtime story. Rose pops in and out whenever she pleases and helps me with bits of work. But then, she's always stuck close, and I'm grateful for that. Now, if we could just get rid of those prowlers."

Cami's voice trailed off. Then, she stopped for a moment and sighed. "You know, Bilbo. Even with the bandits, it seems easier somehow. With Maura here, I mean. Things don't seem quite so overwhelming as they did before. I'm a better mother. I have more patience. I only wish it could stay like this."

Bilbo eyes widened. He was about to raise a question, when Maura came over and sat down with them. Bilbo couldn't help but notice how the couple's fingers intertwined beneath the table, and how they sat so comfortably close to one another, clearly happy just to be together.

After finishing breakfast and catching up on local doings, Cami hugged Bilbo and said goodbye, after he'd readily agreed to return for breakfast in a day or two and perhaps bring Frodo with him. Heading back towards the Inn, Bilbo reflected on Cami's wistful words and wondered whether any effort to make one last plea on their behalf could possibly make a difference.

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Pio's post

It wasn’t songbirds that awakened Pio. That early hour before sunrise had barely crested the edge of the mountains far to the east when she was already up and dressed, sitting at the window of the front room, in her overstuffed chair. Mug of tea in hand, she shifted uncomfortably, one way and then the other, trying to find enough room in her frame for her to sit comfortably and the twins to play. At least that is how she termed their kicks, pokes, and trammeling at this hour of the day. She was beginning to bless the foresight of Amaranthas and Angelica in suggesting she should have a nursemaid once they were born. Perhaps then she could get some rest.

Her daughter stretched out her arms and legs, pushing hard against Pio’s ribs and chest. Her brother protested and pushed outward to find his own share of the little room left to him. Pio gasped, taking what shallow breath she could and stood up clumsily.

‘Alright, I surrender!’ she laughed, pushing back gently with her own hands. ‘We will all go for a walk, and you two can jump about to your hearts’ content.’

Mithadan was still sleeping, turned on his side, head lying on the crook of one arm, the other arm tucked securely round her pillow that he had drawn near him. She leaned over him, kissing him at the corner of his eye and cheek. We are going out for a walk. To Cami’s I think. I shall be back in time to second breakfast with you.

Her cloak rustled softly as she drew it from the end of the bed and settled it round her shoulders. Through the kitchen, with a nod and smile to Cook, then out the door and down the path to the Road.

She walked along slowly, gathering her thoughts. Cami was an early riser, but not this early. It would not do to intrude upon the newlyweds’ time together. Pio smiled to herself. ‘This time I must make sure I tell her.’

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

A long walk from the Pool, following the Water eastward, ate up the time, and it was long after breakfast at the burrow by the Pool when she returned. From a distance she saw Bilbo take leave of both Cami and Maura and head in the direction of the Inn. Standing in shadow, she watched him walk down the path leading round the western end of the Pool.

She stepped forward, then stopped, seeing Maura as he stepped out the door, bound on some errand. He paused just at the end of the small dirt path of the doorway and turned, grinning like some great fool back at Cami with the little one in her arms, as they stood waving to him. Pio tucked that image away in her memory, to recall later when Cami was no longer here, and she wished to remember her in happy times.

Cami and the little one had gone back inside by the time she reached the burrow. She rapped gently at the door, and seconds later it was flung open by Cami, laughing and saying, ‘Was it another good-by kiss you needed, Maura!’ Her cheeks turned pink when she saw that it was Pio, and she stammered as she invited her in.

‘I think you should save the kisses for your husband, but I will take a hug and a mug of tea.’ Pio looked hopefully round the little kitchen area. ‘And food! I am famished.’

A thorough hug and the admonishment to sit down and be comfortable followed the awkward scene at the door. Cami reintroduced Holly to Pio, the Elf grinning as she learned the little one’s name. ‘A lovely name for a lovely little girl,’ she said, reaching out her hand to tuck a stray curl behind Holly’s ear. ‘And how is that ear now? Better?’

As Cami bustled about fixing her visitor tea and a plate of toast spread thick with apple butter, Holly leaned on Pio’s legs, soft blanket in hand, her thumb popped into her mouth. They spoke softly together for a few moments, the little one indicating she wished to sit on the Elf’s lap. Pio pulled one of the chairs near hers and scooted the little girl onto it, tucking her up against her side, her arm wrapped around her. ‘I would put you on my lap, Holly, but I have no lap left for you.’

She placed the little girl’s free hand on her belly, just where her daughter was tapping with her foot. ‘That is my little baby girl. And just here is her brother.’ Holly’s eyes grew wide as a solid thump smacked against her palm. Holly giggled and tapped back gently to each one, screeching with further delight as her tapping met with tapping in kind.

Cami, grinning at hearing her daughter’s delighted giggles, had just piled the toast on a plate, alongside some sweet apple wedges, when she caught the conclusion of Holly’s and Pio’s conversation. Her faced turned white and she staggered for a moment as she sat the plate on the table near Pio.

‘What . . . what did you just say to her?’

Holly reached out her hand to her mother’s belly and patted it softly. ‘Lolly’s baby!’

‘Your son, Cami. Holly’s brother. I was just telling her about him . . .’

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

Child's post

"Excuse me, Pio," Cami stammered. "What did you say?" She had actually heard the words, but was finding them hard to comprehend. For the past few months, Cami had paraded a whole string of possible complications through her head, trying to predict her reactions. Yet, strangely enough, the possibility she might bear a child had never crossed her mind.

"You can't mean it. How do you know? Are you certain?" Frantic words tumbled out in rapid succession. Then Cami stopped and thought for a moment, shaking her head and sighing, "But, of course, you know. You can sense these things better than I."

For a moment, a ghost of a smile played on Cami's face as she thought about bearing and rearing a child who would not only be her son, but also part of Maura. The last thought struck her with terrible force. Her smile quickly faded, as she turned to face Pio with urgency in her voice.

"Please, Pio, please. Don't say anything to Maura."

Pio looked at Cami with genuine concern. "Why do you say that? From everything I've seen, I can't believe he wouldn't welcome this child into the world."

"That's not it." Cami rummaged through her mind, searching for the right words. "Pio, I don't know how to put this. When I was alone in Greenwood, I used to dream of Maura, and I always thought of us as a couple, just two people together. But after coming here, we both realized there's more to it than that. We're a family, even if we're physically separated--Gamba and the boys, and Rose, and Holly. Maura doesn't talk about it, but he's spent as much time with them as he has with me."

"When we gave our word to Gandalf, we did that as a couple. We knew there would be sadness, but we thought it would only affect the two of us. We never thought there would be children."

"I've seen Maura sitting by the fire, just staring at it. I don't need osanwe to read his mind. I already know what's there.
He feels he is failing my children, our children. They've become victims of a bargain they never even agreed to. Pio, I wouldn't give up my childrn for all the treasures in Arda, but it's not easy being on my own. Think how Mithadan would feel if something were to happen that prevented him from fulfilling his responsibilities as a father."

"That feeling is only going to get worse if Maura learns he's responsible for bringing a child into the world, a child he will never see or hold or help raise and support. And he'd constantly think of me in Greenwood, alone and struggling to do my best. I don't know if he could accept that."

"Maybe you need to talk. Maybe Maura is right. The old bargain you made did not cover any of this."

"Talk? No. This must stay locked inside. We gave our pledge, our solemn promise. That doesn't change with the winds of convenience."

"I will cover the babe's mind with my own so Maura will never suspect anything. And if Holly blurts out something, I'll explain how she felt Pio's twins with her hand and wanted a little brother so badly that she invented one in her head."

Before Piosenniel could respond, there was a sudden flurry of wings just outside the door.

[ April 09, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Bird's post

Through the open door of the small burrow a small black and white form darted, fluttering around the low room as if seeking a perch, and finally settling on the floor. Holly's eyes widened at the little bird on the floor, and she instinctively reached out to grab and cuddle.

But a pair of rough brown hands reached out gently to stop her, and the little halfing gasped as a small woman sat where a fluffy bird had been a moment before. Holly retreated to Cami, burying her head in her skirts, suddenly shy.

Birdie looked up to Pio and Cami from the floor, appearing to be quite haggard from lack of sleep. "I'm sorry. I tried to follow that man outside the inn, but I lost him in the forest. I have no idea where he went."

[ April 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

‘That was crafty of her to put us together – don’t you think?’ Gilly flicked the reins on Nettle’s flanks, urging the pony west down the road. She and Rose were on their way to visit the last of the burrows and holdings in the outlying areas near Hobbiton and Bywater.

They were delivering flyers that Maura and Sam and some of the other organizers at the meeting had penned, concerning the happenings of late in the Shire. Rose was also inviting interested Hobbits to come to the yard at the Inn over the next few weeks, where she and Maura would teach some simple techniques for use of weapons in fighting. Though all concerned hoped it would not come to that, they thought it best to be prepared.

‘Crafty – now that is a good word to use for her,' replied Rose, thoughtfully. 'She’s a good judge of people. Probably thought we would make a good team. She can’t be out here herself organizing things and teaching weapons’ skill, so she’s sent us. You should have seen her on board the Star. She had her hand in everything!’

The two young women chatted on amiably as the cart turned north, up a narrow dirt path. The incident of the Inn Yard, when Gilly had challenged Rose’s presence at the door to the Inn had long been put behind them.

Piosenniel, it seems, had put them both together in one room and after a few ruffled feathers, they had laughed at the situation and become good friends. Gilly was awed by the considerable wealth of experience a young woman her own age had under her belt already. She dreamed often of being just like her, and able to share with others tales of her own adventures.

Another endless source of interest to Gilly was Piosenniel. Rose provided a quite detailed and candid appraisal of the Elf and her doings, at least since she’d known her. Gilly’s feet itched to walk the deck of the Lonely Star. Rose smiled when she heard her friend say this, wondering what shade of green her face would turn when the Sea turned rough.

‘Oh, look,’ said Rose, pointing to the thin column of smoke coming from a burrow’s chimney in the distance. ‘There’s Gammer Eglantine’s burrow. We should go up and talk to her. I know she has lots of grandchildren that visit her, and she lives all alone.’ Nettle plodded slowly toward the path to the burrow. His speed unaffected by the gentle flick of reins, he paid even less attention to the coaxings of his two passengers.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

‘I didn’t know he could move this fast!’ Gilly had taken the reins on their return trip, and Nettle, his mind fixed on the bag of sweet oats and two carrots which awaited him, trotted eastward toward the Inn’s stable as fast as his short little legs could carry him.

In no time, they were back at the Inn, and had handed the relieved pony over to Hob.

‘Let’s go find something to eat,’ suggested Rose, linking her arm in Gilly’s as they headed toward the kitchen door. ‘Then I’ll give you a quick lesson in using one of those long knives Pio lent you.’

‘I’ll give it a try, but I still think I’m best with my walking stick,’ returned Gilly.

Rose dropped her arm from Gilly’s and gave her an impish grin, as she sprinted for the door. ‘Last one in makes the snack and does up the dishes!’

‘Then that’ll be you!’ cried Gilly, speeding off behind her.

[ April 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

26 Nárië – just before dawn

Rose smoothed the coverlet over her bed, and turned with an amused look on her face as the usual early morning thunk occurred. Gilly had left her last night’s cup of tea, now long gone cold, at the side of her bed, and once again she had tripped over it.

‘I’m sorry!’ The words flew out of Gilly’s mouth without thinking. How many times had she said that in the month she had known Rose. And how many times had Rose laughed, telling her not to worry, that a messy room was really of no importance to her. Still, Gilly noted the clothes neatly folded and stacked on the chest at the foot of her new friend’s bed.

She sighed and cast a critical eye at her side of the room. Her cape thrown over the hastily made bed. Piles of hurriedly cast off clothes where she had dropped them, casting little smudgy shadows in the soft lamplight. Mistress Piosenniel had given her a small, leather bound journal to keep for random thoughts and drawings, and it lay open beside her pillow. Gilly sighed again. Even the neat, clean, blank page that lay propped against the tousled pillow accused her with its well-ordered emptiness.

‘Hurry,’ urged Rose, pulling the door to their room open. ‘We promised Cook we would gather eggs for this morning’s breakfast.’

They slipped down the stairs quietly, small candle lanterns in hand, and went quickly through the kitchen, picking up the egg baskets on their way out the door. It was still dark as they crossed the yard to the hencoop, their quiet voices breaking the silence of the last edge of darkness. A few stars still twinkled overhead, and not even the birds had peaked from under wing.

Gilly slipped her hand beneath a briefly protesting hen. Cradling two warm eggs from the nest, she left one for the mama hen to nurture. Ten more hens, and she was done, finishing only a little before Rose.

‘It’s so peaceful, this time between night and day, isn’t it Rose?’ she said, hooking her arm in her friend’s as they hurried back to the waiting Cook. Rose nodded her head in agreement as they stepped through the kitchen’s door and gave their baskets to the expectant hands of Cook’s yawning helper.

Gilly, a cup of tea in her hand, sidled up to Cook who stood counting out the eggs for a morning scramble. ‘Let me take Mistress Piosenniel and her Mister their breakfast when it’s ready, will you?’

Cook smiled indulgently at the eager lass. According to Miz Pio the twins would be here on Mid-year’s Day, just five days from today. The poor mama had no room left for eating. The babies crowded her mightily as their time drew near.

‘Yes, Gilly, you can fix up a tray for them when they wake. Maybe he can get a few bites down her.’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Maura pulled the door open and walked slowly over towards the hearth, throwing his body haphazardly into a chair and stretching out his legs. Cami went behind him and leaned over, gently massaging the muscles in his neck."

"Tired?"

He nodded slowly. "I spent half the night patrolling the roads with Frodo and Hob, and then all morning with Rose, teaching several of the younger lads how to handle a bow. There are so few of us here who've had any kind of training or experience in fighting. And we can't even use the two people who have the most skill of all."

"Maura Tuk. We've discussed this before. There's no way the shirriff would let Pio or Mith come striding onto the party field with a bow or a sword. He'd assume they were up to no good."

Maura began muttering a few choice words under his breath concerning the shirriff and his myopic vision, and how it would serve the fellow right if the bandits came and personally carted him off. Then, seeing the tired look on Cami's face, he stopped short, and turned to look hard at her.

"You don't look good. Ever since that week in Buckland, you've looked tired. You're not eating. Maybe I should have made the journey on my own."

"Don't be silly, Maura. I'm fine. That time in Buckland and the Marish was beautiful, and the trip was helpful. At least we got some information about what these prowlers look like."

"That may be," Maura nodded, "but you've left your plate untouched again. I'm going to cook you up a fresh batch of eggs, nice sunny side eggs."

Visions of unpleasant yellow yolks danced through Cami's head. She didn't know why the healers called it morning sickness. As far as she could tell, she was sick morning, noon, and night. But Pio had told her it wasn't unusual, and it should pass in another month when all her energy and appetite would return in full force. The news about several kidnappings in other parts of the Shire, mostly in the Marish, had also done little to increase her appetite. But at least it had been quiet in Hobbiton and Bywater.

She sat dutifully in front of the eggs Maura had fixed for her, using her fork to push them from one side of the plate to the other. Meanwhile, she nibbled on a small cracker in hopes of diverting her husbands' attention. When he turned his back momentarily, she managed to spoon one of the eggs into Holly's mouth, so there was at least a small dent on the plate.

Once or twice Maura turned and gave her a very strange look. He seemed uncertain what to do, but finally spoke, "Promise me something, Cami. Promise me you'll go see Pio and have her check you over to make sure you're alright."

Cami beamed back. She could readily agree to that, since it was something she was already doing on her own. "I'll go this afternoon, and I'll ask the boys to make sure and come for dinner."

"Good. Could you take Holly with you? I promised to go over later and look at some knives one of the deputies found stashed away in an old cupboard in the Locks."

Cami nodded in agreement, and the two kissed goodbye. For the moment,the mystery of the leftover eggs was forgotten, as they both set out to take care of business. They had no idea that the afternoon would turn out to be drastically different than what they had planned for.

[ April 09, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Nurumaiel]

Fosco Muddyfoot sat on the front step of the little hole with dismal eyes. Both his parents were gone, and the children had been given strict orders not to leave the house. Fosco's eyes followed each grasshopper that passed him by, and he fingered his little sling regretfully as he looked at the birds singing in the trees. Mummy didn't like him shooting at birds, anyway.

"Fosco, what are you doing here?" Prisca asked. "You're outside. You can't be there."

"I can be here," said Fosco fiercely. "See, I'm not outside. If I was outside every time the door was opened you would be outside too."

"Oh." Prisca thought about this a little while, then plopped down next to him. "Then I'm not outside, either." A new idea came to her head. "But, Fosco, what if a bad person were to come up and capture us while we were sitting here."

"They couldn't," said Fosco, sitting up straight and wise. "We're not outside." And, to their young minds, this sounded quite reasonable.

They sat for awhile in silence. Little Prisca was not in the least cautious, even though a pile of mud lay right by her brother's feet. Fosco thought of how Mummy told someone once that they were 'too trusting.' I don't know what that could mean, the little hobbit lad thought, so I can't be it.

"Ooooh!!" Prisca jumped up and pointed. "Look at the big grasshopper, Fosco!"

Fosco scrambled to his feet. "It's huge," he gasped, his eyes fairly popping from his head. "It must be the son of the dragon I fought back at that place and it's still little so it can't fly." He set down his sling and glared at the grasshopper, which was perched on the very top of a long blade of grass. "Prisca, you get back. I'll get that dragon!"

Prisca gave a little squeal and ran down the hallway. Fosco, completely forgetting what his parents had said, leaped over the threshold of the door and began to chase the grasshopper. Prisca watched him for awhile, but then grew bored and went to see if there were any good things to eat in the kitchen. At last she found some little cakes her mother had made the day before up in one of the high cupboards. Grabbing a little stool, she proceeded to climb after it.

Fosco, meanwhile, was having a grand time with the grasshopper. He chased it all about the garden, until it decided it had had enough and jumped over the fence. "Oh, you're mean!" he cried in exasperation. Then something clicked in his mind and he glanced over his shoulder. No one was watching him. Quickly and silently, he leaped over the fence and began chasing the insect down the road.

[ April 08, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

So engrossed was the child in his pursuit of the grasshopper that he took no note of where he ran. His attention so grabbed it was easy for his observer to follow him un-noticed. The little boy laughed as every time his hand stretched out to catch the green creature it took another leap out of his grasp. It even managed a sarcastic chirp of it's legs as it finally vanished into some particularly long grass at the side of the lane.

"Bother!" The boy snapped and kicked up some gravel into the verge in frustration. "I only wanted to be friends you silly thing."

He turned about to go home and walked straight into a leg. Fosco leapt back and held up his fists. He stared up into the eyes of a giant man who seemed to be laughing at him. Old Stoat had really taken to the work Ferny had set him of late.

"Phew you're smelly!" Fosco shouted. He had no fear of the man. He had not learned to fear men. He merely stood his ground, a miniture pugalist.

"Aye, ah may be." Stoatie replied and took a casual sniff at his own coat. "But ah do have some sweeties in me pocket and ah'm a good sight more friendly than that there grasshopper."

Fosco weighed him up as much as his child's brain could. He knew he shouldn't talk to strangers but then he knew he shouldn't have wandered off in the first place. Besides, surely everyone meant strange hobbits, not men. No body had mentioned men to him. He thought he'd ask, just in case. He allowed his arms to fall but braced his leg to give him a good kick if needs be.

"Are you a man?"

"Aye, Fosco, Ah am."

"How do you know my name?" He gasped.

"I've bin watchin' o'er you. I'm a good friend. Keepin' an eye, makin' sure yer fine an' dandy."

"Why?" Fosco took a step towards his new companion, but not too close, his stench was over powering for an adult's nostrils, nevermind a child's.

"The elf-lady told me to." Old Stoat hoped that all his spying had paid off. He and Ferny had thought this a useful tack for when their plans drew close to Hobbiton. It would give them a plausible face to the children and if necessary a scapegoat while they made their exit.

"I don't know any elf ladies. Where are your sweeties then." Fosco hadn't a clue whether he did or not, he just wanted a sweetmeat.

Stoatie dug around in his pocket and pulled out a carefully folded handerchief quite juxtaposed to his image. It was even cleanish. He croutched down before the hobbit boy and offered the closed handerchief to him. Focused on the handerchief and the promise of its contents, Fosco stepped forward. He reached out to snatch the handkerchief and make a run for it. Stoatie was old but his reflexes, lightening quick. Broad daylight or no, the boy was grabbed.

Fosco was not an easy catch and both bit and kicked Stoatie several times before he was hauled through the hedge and out of sight. He wriggled like an eel or any number of other creatures that had no desire to be trapped but Stoatie had come prepared. The boy was soon trussed up like a spider's dinner and dumped, gagged upon the moss between some tree roots. Old Stoat rubbed his bruises and sucked his bitten hand.

"Ferny was right, yer are a little monster. Ah'll soon sort yer out." He gesticulated with the back of his hand to show that Fosco was heading for a slap. The child, now quite frightened, stared at him through wide, watering eyes and longed for his mother. He could neither shout, nor move. He sniffed loudly.

Stoatie sucked his hand again. "We'll let's be havin' yer, yer little brat." He snapped at the boy, wrapped him in his own coat and flung him over his shoulder.

To begin with on their journey across country Fosco and made himself nigh on impossible to carry by constant squirming. Another silent threat from Stoatie soon stilled the boy.

Back in the lane grasshoppers continued to rattle and a handkerchief dangled, caught in the hedge thorns.

[Nurumaiel]

Angelica and Merimac Muddyfoot strode up the little stone path that led to the door of their cheery little hole. It was late in the evening, and Angelica suspected that the children would be hungry. Her suspicions were confirmed when Prisca threw open the front door and cried, "My stomach is grumbling, Mummy! Daddy, do you know what? It's angry because it hasn't had any food."

"Well," said Merimac loudly, trying to lure Fosco out of wherever he was. "We just so happened to stop by the shop on the way back and we got…" He never finished. Holding up the sweets was enough. Prisca toddled forward excitedly and grabbed the candy, stuffing it into her mouth.

Angelica seemed a little puzzled as she stepped into the house with Merimac and closed the front door behind them. "Prisca-baby, where's your brother Fosco?"

"I don't know," said Prisca. "Maybe he's sleeping. I was sleeping."

Merimac saw the look in Angelica's eyes and hastened to comfort her. "I'm sure it's just as Prisca said. He must be sleeping somewhere. Come on, let's look." Taking her hand, he led her first to the twin's room. Fosco was not there. Nor was he in any of the other rooms.

"Oh, Mummy, I know now," said Prisca, tugging at her mother's skirt. "He was chasing baby dragons. That's what he called the grasshoppers."

"Where was he chasing them, Prisca?" Merimac asked firmly, before his wife could scream out any questions in terror.

"He went into the garden," the little girl replied. "I don't know what happened to him after that. I went to find a cookie."

"I'm going to the Shirriff this very moment," said Angelica, throwing on her shawl once more and nearly running to the front door. Merimac caught up with her, and pulled her back gently, saying, "Angelica, I'm sure he's staying with one of his friends. Nothing happened to him." Angelica opened her mouth to reply, but Merimac covered it with one hand and turned to Prisca. "Er…. Prisca, could you go find your older brother?"

Prisca set forth on this mission obediently, and Merimac let his wife's mouth free. Words tumbled from it. "But, Merimac, you know… you've heard… what if Fosco was kidnapped? What if the kidnapper found him wandering all alone and - "

"You know that didn't happen," said Merimac. "Now let's go find him." He sounded confident, yet after two hours of searching his eyes betrayed fear, though he tried to hide it from his wife. "Well… maybe we should see the Shirriff, just to let him know about it."

And the two worried hobbits stumbled into the Shirriff's office, Angelica's eyes red with crying, and the stain of tears still on her pale cheeks.

[ April 11, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Mithadan]

Halfred was asleep in his chair with his feet on his desk when the door to his office opened with a bang. He sat up quickly and shook his head to clear it of the cobwebs as the Muddyfoots walked over. "Merimac, Priscilla," he said. "A good evening to you both..."

"Our Fosco's gone," cried Priscilla. "He's disappeared!"

"Fosco?" asked the Shirriff. "That's the lad who was throwing mud at passerbyes last week, isn't it?"

Priscilla turned red at the mention of the incident. "He's gone," she reiterated. "You must find him!"

"Easy now," answered Halfred. "When was he last seen and where?"

"At our hole," responded Merimac. "We had gone off for a bit and left him there with his sister and brother with a warning not to step outside. Little Prisca saw him running about in the garden chasing a grasshopper or some such over four hours ago. We've been looking for him for some time and haven't found him."

"Well," said the Shirriff. "He's just wandered off, no doubt. I'll have a few of my lads keep an eye out and I'm sure he'll turn up."

"'Keep an eye out'?" Priscilla erupted. "He's been gone for hours! You'd best do more than 'keep an eye out'!"

It was Halfred's turn to get red in the face. "Very well," he replied. The Shirriff summoned four of his deputies and sent them out to look for Fosco. He had no doubt that the lad would reappear shortly...

An hour later, Halfred sat in his office mopping at his sweating face with a handkerchief. Not only had the boy not been found, but also a Hobbit had stopped by to report an unsavory character, one of the Big Folk, that had been seen skulking about. Not long after that, a second had arrived to say that an ill-favored Man had been seen walking east with a bundle over his shoulder. When asked to describe the Man, he answered that he was big, ill-kempt, with dark hair and a whiskery face.

Soon, all of Hobbiton was abuzz with the rumour of another kidnapping. Bands of Hobbits bearing cudgels, staves, axes, shovels and any other implement which might conceivably serve as a weapon were raoming the countryside looking for Fosco and his presumed assailant. The search continued through the evening even after an overzealous lad ignited a haystack with his torch. But no sign of Fosco or the Man was found.

[piosenniel]

‘Mithadan! Do you mind seeing who is banging on the door? The loud knocking did not abate. Pio sighed, rubbed her temples, and hauled herself off the bed. Long periods of sleep were a distant memory to her, and she had been hoping to take a short nap while the twins were quiet and at rest themselves.

She glanced out the front room window as she crossed from the bedroom to the door. It had grown dark out, the stars shone brightly against the black sky, and the moon was nearing full. She reached the door and pulled it open, only to have Gilly come tumbling in helter-skelter, a rush of words preceding her.

‘Slow down! Tell me what has happened.’ Pio, a frown on her face, pushed the incoherent Hobbit into a chair and sat down opposite her.

With careful questioning, Pio unraveled the story of the kidnapping. Gilly had just been in the kitchen with Cook, Ruby, and Buttercup when Prim came bursting through the doors to deliver the horrible news. A neighbor of Angelica’s had come into the Inn, stout walking stick in hand, and rallied the patrons to go looking for the missing Fosco. The story had come out in full detail about how one of the Big Folk, ill-kempt, with dark hair and a whiskery face, had kidnapped the young Hobbit. Hobbits in the area had come together to search for the missing child, and to be on the look out for the ruffian who had snatched him. Prim had mobilized the Inn staff and they had gone off to join in the search.

Pio’s face had gone pale at the thought of another kidnapping. She placed an arm protectively across her belly, an uneasy feeling niggling at the back of her mind. Gilly sat quiet now in her chair, her knees drawn up under her chin, arms clasped around her legs. Her eyes were wide with the dawning understanding of how badly this situation might turn out, her face drained of all color.

‘Who is tending the Inn?’ Pio rose from her seat, and stepping near Gilly, offered her a hand up. Gilly sniffled, and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

‘No one, Mistress Piosenniel. The Common Room is almost empty, the only ones left in it are the older Hobbits whose legs aren’t quite good enough for them to get around much.

‘Who is left here of the staff?’ Pio walked over to the desk by the door and drew out her knives. ‘Get my sword, please, from the chest over there, and the whetstone,’ she directed Gilly, mobilizing her into action.

‘None of the staff is here and even Rose has gone off on the search. It’s just you and I.’ She watched as Pio strapped the knives on her arms, and loosened the fastener on her baldric, placing it on one shoulder and adjusting it to fit her larger girth. Several more knives went into the fittings on it. ‘Are we going on the search, too?’ asked the Hobbit.

‘No, you and I will take care of the Inn until the others return.’ She handed Gilly a long knife to tuck into her belt.

Pio led they way out to the bar. She looked round the room, and as Gilly had said there were few customers, and all were sitting together, talking in hushed tones. Several eyed her with unfriendly looks as she took her place behind the bar. Ignoring them, she poured a pitcher of ale for Gilly to take round and fill up their mugs.

‘When you are done there, Gilly, go to the kitchen and make us a tray of sandwiches and put the water on for tea. People will be hungry when they drift in from the search, we should be ready for them.’ Gilly, glad for something to occupy her mind and hands, served the ale and headed for the kitchen as asked.

Pulling up a tall barstool behind the bar, Pio perched herself on it and placed her sword on the bar. Taking the whetstone she began working on the blade’s edge, her long strokes bringing it to razor sharpness.

Snick . . . snick . . . went the continuous rhythm of stone on steel. Her movements were calm and methodical, her face emotionless as she concentrated on the task at hand. Her thoughts, though, were troubled. Another child kidnapped. And by a Man . . . Here grey eyes scanned the room once more, glancing out the Inn windows as her gaze moved by them.

Where was Mithadan?

[ April 12, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Maura was at the shirriff's office looking over a small stash of weapons that had been tucked away in a closet when Angelica and Merimac first came bursting in. After hearing what had happened, he promised Angelica to get together a small group of hobbits who'd been patrolling the roads in recent weeks to aid in the search. Then he quickly excused himself and headed towards the Inn.

Maura stopped by the stables to make sure that Cami's boys were alright. He asked Lindo to keep a closer eye on them, since no one knew if this was an isolated incident or a prelude to a more general attack. When Gamba begged to be included in the search party, Maura reluctantly acceded, making the boy promise that he would stay close to his side. They saddled up two ponies and quickly made for Bag-end, the location they'd all agreed to meet if the bandits ever struck in Hobbiton and Bywater.

Before setting out on the road, Maura had swung by the burrow to try and speak with Cami, but she was already gone. He guessed she must have already heard the news. Her bow was missing, and she had taken Holly with her. With that piece of business behind them, Maura and Gamba quickly made their way up the road towards Bag-end.

[ April 14, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Nurumaiel]

At the same time as the Shirriff was hearing of the man with the bundle over his shoulder, Merimac had taken Madoc and Prisca into the dining room. He had sent Angelica to bed, hoping that she'd get some rest and forget about Fosco's disappearance for awhile.

Prisca's mouth was watering and her eyes hungry, for she had been about to get into the cookie jar, so Merimac spoke quickly. "Fosco has disappeared," he said with a deep sigh. "And we think he's been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Madoc looked shocked. "Surely nobody would do anything… bad to him?"

"I don't know why he was kidnapped, so I can't say if it was for ransom, for some other reason, or just an evil man wanting to cause trouble. It was one of the Big Folk who's suspected of taking Fosco." He turned to his daughter. "Prisca, you can go now." The lass dashed out of the room as fast as she could.

Merimac spoke a little longer with Madoc, telling him all that the Shirriff and other hobbits who had seen suspicious things had said. Madoc listened wide-eyed and worried, fearing for the safety and well-being of his little brother.

Meanwhile Angelica lay on her bed, trying to fall asleep, but she kept seeing Fosco in her mind, being taken East by one of the Big Folk. She had tried to open her mouth many times and tell Merimac her worries, but he would interrupt her and tell her not to think about it.

"If only I could find someone who would let me worry about my child," she groaned. "Cami… or Peony… or someone. Merimac doesn't seem to understand. I just want to cry and cry and…" Tears rose her eyes, but she fought them, knowing Merimac wouldn't want to come find her crying. She was supposed to be sleeping.

The door creaked open a bit and Prisca came in, cookie in hand. "Oh, there you are, Mummy," she said, backing out again. "I was supposed to find out where you went. You know Peony Muddyfoot? She came."

Relief surged through Angelica. It was like a miracle, Peony arriving right when she most needed someone. The door was pushed open and Peony came in. She strode forward calmly and sat down next to Angelica, saying, "I just heard the news. I'm so sorry, Angelica. Poor Fosco. I do hope he's all right."

Angelica was still struggling with her tears. Peony looked gently at her. "Don't mind me, dear," she said, putting her arms around the hobbit. "Don't mind me."

~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*~~^*

Bill Ferny sat impatiently, waiting for Stoatie. They had moved their hideout from Stoat's cottage to a place a little ways out of the village of Scary.

Stoatie'll most likely be wasting his time, Ferny thought. I told him to get here right away so I could tell him the plan for snatching Fosco Muddyfoot. Where could he be?

Ferny leaned back. I guess I'll just have to wait for him, he thought. But he's going to get some trouble from me. He's already late.

Ferny must have dozed off, for he was awoken by the sound of a child's voice screaming, "You let go of me, you big oaf! Hey, you're that big old troll that talked to me at the party. Want me to kick you again?"

Ferny jumped up in shock and saw Stoatie grinning as he set down a young hobbit boy. He backed up a few steps after he had done so. "Good job, Stoatie," said Ferny. "No wonder you took so long."

"Look at all you fools, grinning like that," Fosco said. "You know I'm a lot tougher than both of you put together? I'm going to go home now."

"No you're not," said Ferny. "You're going to stay right here."

"I will not!" Fosco screamed, and ran at Ferny. Kick after kick landed on the man's knees until he had collapsed to a kneeling position. Fosco then leaped at his head and knocked him flat on his back, jumping up and down on him and attack him ferociously.

"Don't… just… stand… there!" Ferny shouted in between punches and kicks from Fosco. "Get… him and… tie… him… up!"

Stoatie rushed forward and grabbed the lad, quickly wrapping some rope around him in tight knots. Then he tossed him into a corner, and stood back as Ferny advanced. "You little brat!" he snarled. "I should just kill you right now!"

"If you kill me I'll blast lightning at you," Fosco threatened.

"I'd like to see you try," Ferny sneered.

"I'll try… and do it."

Ferny retreated to the opposite end of the room to tend to his bruises, leaving Stoatie to guard the hobbit boy.

[ April 14, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Orual]

"Sam, did you hear?" Rose came into the room like a thunderstorm came into a town, a wailing Hamfast on her hip and her eyes wild with either fright or concern, or both, Sam could not tell.

"Hear what?" he asked, going up to her. He looked at her, puzzled. "I've been in my office all day, trying to get next week's patrol schedule in order."

"Do you remember Merimac Muddyfoot?" Rose asked. Sam nodded. "His son, Fosco, he's gone missing!"

Sam felt like he had been punched in the stomach. "Missing?" he echoed hoarsely. Rose nodded, catching her breath. "They're sure he didn't just wander off? There was that time when Merry-lad went missing for nearly a day, and we found him up at the Dragon, drinking apple juice and chatting with the innkeeper like he had was invited." Though it was a favorite family story of his, Sam could not find much enthusiasm about Merry-lad's escapades.

Rose shook her head. "No, he's really gone. He was out playing in front of the house one minute, so I heard, and next minute he was gone. Just gone, Sam! And after all your hard work and planning, despite all the precautions that everyone's been taking, it happened anyway. Who would have thought that it could really happen, here in Hobbiton?" Rose shuddered, and held Hamfast, who had quieted, closer.

"Does everyone know about this?" Sam asked.

Rose shrugged. "A number do, but I don't think everyone does. Angelica and Merimac went to the Shirriff, and several other people know, but I don't think that it's public knowledge yet."

"What's going on, Sam?" Frodo came into the room, followed by Merry-lad and Goldilocks, the latter trying to catch a hold of his ankle. Rose gave Hamfast to Sam and went to herd the children out of the room. Sam sighed deeply and explained the situation. Frodo was about to reply when a knock came at the door.

"I'll get it," Rose called from the hall. There was a creaking of the door opening, and shortly after she re-entered the room with Maura and Gamba.

Sam greeted them and offered them seats. "I'm glad to see you. I don't even know where to begin, other than to organize a search party, I guess..." Sam ran his hands through his curly hair in frustration. "Who would have thought that this would happen in Hobbiton?"

[ April 13, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan tiptoed out of his room, taking care to not wake Piosenniel. He could not sleep and decided to make his way to the kitchen to get a snack. As he walked down the steps he muttered to himself. He had been closeted within the Inn for several days now, at the advise of Prim and had begun to chafe at the inactivity. No surprise that he could not sleep. In the past days, he done little more than walk from his room to the common room and back.

He entered the kitchen quietly, carrying a candle. On the counter was a loaf of bread and a bowl of apples. He made a plate for himself and had just turned away when the door opened suddenly and Cook entered bearing a cudgel. "Who's there?" she cried, raising the club menacingly.

"Its just me," answered the Man. "Mithadan. I'm just getting a slice of bread and an apple."

She squinted at him in the dim light, then lowered the cudgel. "Oh, you did give me a turn, what with the goings on," she said.

"What has happened?" asked Mithadan. She related to him what was known of the disappearance of Fosco and the commotion that had arisen. The Man set down the plate and raced back up to his room only to find Piosenniel already gone. Dressing rapidly and buckling on his sword and knives, he returned to the common room to find Piosenniel there sharpening her knives. The few Hobbits there glared at him with distrust.

Sitting down across from his wife, he growled, "It seems that Bird is right. Trouble follows us like a plague..."

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

Pio's post

Snick . . . snick . . . Pio held up her last long knife and sighted along the edge, looking for nicks or burrs. It felt smooth and sharp as she ran a finger down the side of it.

‘Trouble does seem to have followed us, Mithadan. And I like it not.’ She oiled her stone, then picked up a smaller throwing knife and began to work on it. ‘If it were up to me, I would pack us up – you, and I, and Bird and leave the Shire. But even that, I think would do no good. Despite what Bird thinks, it was only a matter of time that evil would try to insinuate itself once again into the peaceful Shire.’

Pio laid down her knife, and reached for Mithadan’s hand. ‘I detest this position I find myself in. The twins will be born in five days. And I do not begrudge that, in fact I look forward to having them in my arms. But I can do nothing to help Cami and the other Hobbits of the Shire who I have come to know as my friends. My body is unwieldy. I cannot ride to search out the evil creatures who have taken the children. Nor, I think, will I be able to fight very effectively. Again, my body betrays me – I have no grace to move quickly.’ She shook her head and sighed.

‘You know I am an action oriented person. I long to step in and take care of this problem.’ Her eyes flashed in irritation. ‘But I simply cannot. Now I must consider the wellbeing of my children before my own wants.’ Pio picked up her knife again in exasperation and began to work on it. ‘The best I can do, it seems, is to stay here, safe at the Green Dragon, and do what little I can to keep the Inn safe . . . and from what, I am not even sure.’

‘You know,’ she said, tapping the point of the knife on the table as she thought, ‘that is our biggest problem at this point. We have no idea who these Men are or why they are kidnapping the Shire children.’ She rubbed the line of her jaw with her thumb as she thought it out. ‘What are they planning to do with the children? Where are they hiding? They must know the area well to drop so easily, and so thoroughly, from sight when they need to.’

She leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on her steepled fingers, and looked directly at Mithadan. ‘Now that I think about it, even were I able to do it, it would be a difficult task for me to ferret out this information and proceed. What Men are going to let an Elf easily pump them for information?’

Pio took her knife and skewered the apple on Mithadan’s plate. She cut it neatly in two, and offered him half on the palm of her hand. His grey eyes met hers as he reached for the offering.

‘But you, beloved,’ she said quietly, ‘you could do this . . .’

[ April 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[theWhiteLady]

Rose Goodchild had just begun to snuggle under the covers in her and Gilly’s room, when her thoughts were interrupted by Gilly’s excited jabbering down the hall. “What now?” Rose grumbled to herself, but a smile played at the corners of her mouth. Since Pio had first thrown them together in the same bedroom, Rose had grown very fond of her companion. Gilly’s thirst for adventure and the unknown reminded Rose of herself not so very long ago, and it was quite flattering to have such a ready audience to her stories of the Lonely Star and the adventures the crew encountered.

Throwing the covers back and wincing a little as the chilly night air brought goose bumps to her bare legs, Rose sat up and pulled on a dirty pair of work pants and floppy shirt that were lying handily on the floor. For once, the young hobbit thanked her friend for being messy; it kept her from searching around in the dark drawers.

By the time Rose arrived at Pio’s doorpost, Gilly was nearly done with her story, still
breathing hard from excitement. Pio was looking particularly grim, one hand resting protectively on her swollen belly, the other gripping the doorknob tightly and in the background, Mithadan was lacing up his boots. From what she had overheard, Rose was able to piece together a rough portrait of what had happened. Her stomach fell and felt sickeningly hollow as she thought of the poor hobbit babe.

A few hours later, she was leading a party of hobbits through a patch of woods near where Fosco disappeared. Mithadan had led Rose and the rest of the volunteers from the inn to Bag End where they met up with Maura. Weapons, mostly farming tools and rusty relics untouched for time out of mind, were handed out and the gathered hobbits were split up to search for the babe. Rose was surprised to see she was not the only female hobbit present; a few young lasses had come out. They had not yet started their own families, but the thought of their Fosco, lovable rascal that he was, in bandit’s hands made them almost fierce with a motherly protection. There was even, to Rose’s great amusement, a determined hobbit grandmother with flashing eyes and a cane that seemed a suitable weapon against bandits and mischievous hobbit children alike!

So far, however, the search had been fruitless. Rose still tried to keep her sleepy eyes alert, peering intently through the darkness, but hope seemed to be fading as the pale light over the horizon grew stronger. There did not seem to be much more the hobbits could do that night, and the bandits, if indeed it had been bandits, would surely have carried Fosco far away by now. An exasperated sigh escaped Rose’s lips and she shivered slightly from the chilling dew. She had forgotten to bring a jacket. The woods thinned and a road became visible. Rose could dimly see smoke rising from Angelica and Merimac’s home, and she began to trudge in that direction. Her head hung low from exhaustion and discouragement. and her hazel eyes closed wearily. Upon opening, they gazed, half unseeing, upon a small handkerchief blowing in the morning breeze. The young woman stopped, thinking hard for a moment and trying to comprehend what it was she was seeing. Then, with a sudden movement, she snatched up the bit of cloth and began tearing wildly down the lane towards the curl of smoke. After so much searching, Rose simply knew that this must be some clue to the hobbit child’s disappearance.

[ April 13, 2003: Message edited by: theWhiteLady ]

[ April 14, 2003: Message edited by: theWhiteLady ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

ArwenBaggins' post

Elanor sat on a small feather bed, hands between her legs, Rosie on another bed next to her. She twisted the side of her blanket, and saw the door swing open. She jumped up, and ran to her mother and her two siblings. "Mama, what’s happening’? All kinds of hobbits are running around in the streets, calling names!" She looked expectantly to her mother, who shooed Goldilocks and Merry-lad onto a bed.

"Nothing dear," Rose whispered to her daughter.

"Then what is everybody doin’?" Elanor asked worriedly.

"Everything’s fine dear. Just go to sleep," Rosie folded back the covers of the beds.

The door of the hole swung open. Three male Hobbits where talking outside the door, and then the door swiftly banged closed. Rosie jumped up and murmured, "Mama, who just opened the door??"

Rose gently pushed them down onto their pillows. "Papa’s leaving for a few hours. He’ll be back soon, Go to sleep!"

"Yes Ma’am." Elanor muttered, and laid her head on the pillow. Rose smothered the candle, and everything went still.

[ May 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nurumaiel]

A soft knock on the door interrupted Merimac. "Madoc, would you go get that?" he asked, frowning. Now was not the time for guests, no matter what they might want. Hadn't they all heard of Fosco's disappearance? Of course they had, and now they were here to go on about how sorry they were when they could be searching the Shire for the lad.

Madoc left the dining room and went down the long hallway, towards the front door. The knock sounded again, so he hastened to open the door. Then he blushed to the tip of his ears as he found himself face to face with a young girl… whom he thought very beautiful indeed.

"Hello, Miss…"

"Rose Goodchild," the girl said. "I want to speak to your mother or father. It concerns Fosco's disappearance."

"Of course, Miss Goodchild."

"You can call me Rose."

"All right then, Rose." Madoc stood there, staring into her eyes, completely fascinated, while she waited politely for him to go fetch his parents. A few minutes passed.

"Are your parents home?"

Madoc started and came back to earth. "Yes, miss, they are. Dad can talk to you. Mum is unable to come right now. Would you come in?"

"Thank you."

Madoc led her down the hall, back to the dining room, where he announced her to his father. "Miss Rose Goodchild, here to see you, Dad." He received a puzzled look from his father, but he didn't care. He wanted to impress young Rose.

"Well, Miss Rose," said Merimac, offering her a chair. "What brings you here?"

theWhiteLady's post

Rose was too distracted to notice the faint flush that lit up the young hobbit lad's face when he opened the round door, but she was able to admire the tidy, well-organized hole in which he lived. It did not seem the type of place, nor did it house the type of people, to allow their children to carelessly wander away. Her thoughts were quickly dragged back to the subject at hand by Merimac's courteous greeting, however, and her words began tumbling out as she sat into the chair he offered, then popping right back up as she spoke, too agitated to rest.

"Oh, Mister Merimac, I have been looking all night for your little Fosco - parties were sent out when the news reached the Green Dragon - and neither hide nor hair were we able to find in my party. I was getting quite tired, to tell the truth, when I happened to spy this piece of cloth by the roadside."

And Rose lifted up the crinkled handkerchief she had been clutching in her hand for Merimac to see. Merimac rose slowly, but Rose's attention was drawn back to the doorway where Madoc still stood.
"Dad, that's Fosco's handkerchief! That's just got to be his! It is, Dad, isn't it?"

Madoc's eyes were very round as he looked from the cloth back to his father. Merimac reached out and took the bit of fabric from Rose's outstretched hand; his head shook, he was not listening to his son, and, for a moment, he turned away. Rose felt her happiness at finding a clue vanish as she watched him, and her heart began to cry with pity and anger.

Nurumaiel's post

"Thank you so very much," said Madoc, deciding to take things into his own hands. It was clear that his father was unable to speak, and it was also clear that he was doing all he could to keep from tears. "You don't know how much it means to us all."

Rose was quite unable to speak as well. She just gave a little nod and murmured something inaudible, and then, with Madoc by her side, left the room and travelled back down the hallway. Madoc found his face growing more and more red as he looked at Rose. She was awfully pretty, and so nice.

"I hope I haven't disturbed you," said Rose haltingly. "And I'm sure Fosco will be found, alive and well."

"Yes, I'm sure he will, especially if more people like you help," said Madoc, unable to take his eyes from her. "You must be very sleepy now," he added, without realizing how abruptly he was changing the subject.

"I am rather sleepy… good night," she said, walking out the door, Merimac's grief-filled face still in her mind. She walked slowly down to the gate, then paused. She had something to say in the back of her mind, but she could not reach it. She hadn't been given a message but she knew… Oh, yes, that was it. "And tell your mother Cami gives all her love and is sure everything will turn out wonderfully."

Madoc looked like he was in a daze. "And tell Miss Rose Goodchild that Madoc gives her all his love," he said dreamily. "Good night."

Rose opened the gate, laughing silently to herself at Madoc's final remark, praying that Fosco would be found, and went down the road, while the little lad of ten years stood at the door of his hole, still watching her until she was out of sight. Then he turned and went inside, singing an old love song his mother used to sing a long time ago.

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

As Ferny tended his bruises, Stoatie sat upon a wonky wooden milking stool opposite the child. He glanced sideways at his supposed master and allowed himself yet another grin.

Although firmly bound Fosco was un-gagged. He tried a verbal jab at his gaoler. "I'm going to get you too. You don't stand a chance against me. And all my family. We're going to mash you to a pulp. Even my sister is going to beat you up."

Stoatie sighed and shook his head. Once more he raised the back of his hand using it as a threat. "Do what yer like to the gov'nor laddie but don't yer dare cross me. He's got a plan or something going on in that head but I don't care if yer live or die."

Fosco swallowed hard and was temporarily silenced. He began to look around the room, or was it a cave? He was a resourceful boy, despite being quite a handful and was already seeking out a means of escape or at least a method by which he could even out the odds between himself and these two bullies.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Sam rode at the head of a small band of hobbits, cantering up and down the lanes, then dismounting and carefully leading them on foot across the fields to try and pick up the trail of the intruders. The group trekked north and east of The Water in the general direction of Budge Ford. It was Frodo who unearthed their one and only clue.

Pushing his way through the mud and tangled roots of a small copse on a nearby hillock, Frodo stumbled upon a deserted burrow. He poked his upper body through the broken timbers of the door and kicked his foot against the lower part of the threshold to scatter the remnents of wood over to the side. The interior of the burrow was dark and dank. Yet he could clearly hear the sound of a hobbit child crying somewhere in the corner behind an old bed.

Frodo's heart pounded fiercely as he stepped inside, holding his weapon aloft above his head. The crying abruptly stopped, but he still heard muffled sounds issuing from the darkness, although it was impossible to see anything clearly. He called out fiercely to whoever or whatever was making the noise to come out, but there was no response.

Suddenly, everything broke loose at once. Frodo's cries brought Sam and the others racing in behind him. As they pressed forward, a large hooded and kneeling figure could be vaguely seen in the darkness. Near its outstretched hand was a sack which looked as if it contained some kind of living thing kicking and squirming inside.

Gamba, who'd been cautiously advancing at Maura's side, raced forward with nervousness and the impetuosity of youth. He raised his cudgel high and was about to bring it down with force on the kneeling figure, when he was abruptly halted by Maura's strong arm. Almost immediately, the hooded creature emerged from the shadows.

It turned out to be not a man, but two hobbits hiding side-by-side under a blanket. One was an older gaffer, with a lined face and white hair; the other a young lad apparently his grandson. They were both quaking with fear.

"Frodo? Frodo Baggins? Is that you?," the older one blurted out. "It's me, Dudo Greenhand. Please don't hurt us."

Frodo strained his eyes and saw before him the familiar figure of Dudo, a scruffy hobbit from Frog Morton who had made his living poaching game and helping himself to an occasional domesicated animal off of other folk's farms. At that moment, the bag came untied, and a fat suckling pig scampered off into the woods.

Frodo breathed a sigh of relief, "Still up to your old tricks?"

"Aye, don't begrudge me. 'e was a runt that no one wanted. The sow had too many and the farmer was going to lay 'er down. I'll take good care of 'er." With that, he ordered his grandson to go out and retrieve the piglet. "Anyways, you'd show some mercy if you knew what we'd been through..."

"And just what was that?" Frodo countered.

"One of the big folk. A real bad 'un, by the look of it, came down by the Water. Almost scared us out of our wits. So we went and hid here. I was afraid 'is friends might come back to git us. He had this big, squirmin' sack, and he said 'e was collectin' bad boys. I figured my Tom fit that description all right."

"Where was he going? How long ago was this?" Sam quickly interrupted.

"He hightailed it out of 'ere almost two hours ago, and was goin' east as fast as you can go. He was alone, and I was scared he might send 'is buddies back."

Maura tried to pick up the trail of the departing bandit, but was unable to accomplish much of anything. Sam sighed and shook his head in frustration. Then the group made its weary way back towards the Inn and to the shirriff, and, most sadly of all, to speak with Fosco's mother and father and tell them the grim news they'd uncovered.

[ April 15, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan nodded grimly in response to Piosenniel's words. Yet, what could he do? He was viewed with distrust by the Hobbits and the Shirriff had strongly "recommended" that he stay at the Inn and not wander about the Shire.

Even as they sat, a number of locals began filtering into the Green Dragon seeking news, gossip and a late night pint. Some told of an army of Big People that was approaching the borders of the Shire. Others wondered if Saruman had returned to avenge himself against the Halflings that had rebelled against his rule. Still others told wild tales of Orcs and Trolls. But the words of one particular Hobbit were of the greatest interest to Mithadan.

Rory Burrows claimed that he had seen a Man skulking about the Shire more than once. The last time had been the evening of the meeting to discuss the earlier kidnappings. This Man was tall, like all the Big People, "though not as tall as Mister Mithadan, here." He had dark hair like Mithadan but appeared a bit older and thinner as well. He was not well dressed. His breeches and shirt appeared grey though they could have started out as any color given the amount of dirt on them. His face was brown from the sun, at least as much of it as could be seen above the Man's whiskers.

Rory claimed to have approached the Man to ask him his business. The Man had responded rudely with an odd accent. "And he was well in need of a bath," added the Hobbit. "Whew! You could smell him from a mile away as they say. His breath was foul too; too much smoking and not enough washing."

Some laughed at Rory's description. More than one joked that he had described nothing remarkable for one of the Big Folk. But Mithadan ignored the comment. He was lost in thought. A memory came to him as a result of Rory's words. A memory of a morning more than a month earlier from when he was on the road from Sarn Ford to the Shire. The Man he had met who had been in hiding...what was his name? Stoat. From Bree. Rory's description could very well fit this Stoat. Then Mithadan recalled Stoat's warning about the unfriendly Hobbits and his invitation to join him in Bree if he did not enjoy the Shire's hospitality.

He turned to Piosenniel and said, "I think that I know what I must do..."

[piosenniel]

To anyone in the Inn who looked their way, it was simply a couple, leaning close together, sharing something. Perhaps details of their day, perhaps talk of what the babies would be named. Their voices were low, and often he bent his head to hers, touching it briefly, and at such times, no words passed between them.

Behind the bar, serving the customers who had come in late from the search, Gilly watched them. Piosenniel’s posture was taut, and her hand often strayed to her neck, rubbing it as Mithadan spoke to her. He had pulled his chair very near her, his left elbow resting on the table, left hand gesturing as if to tick off points. His right arm went protectively round her tight shoulders, his fingers twining in a strand of her hair. Piosenniel’s gaze was focused on the table in front of her, eyes narrowed and her face pale.

Gilly drew a pint of ale and fixed a small glass of watered wine. Placing them on a wooden serving tray, she drew nearer the two. Their backs were turned to her, and so engrossed were they in their conversation that they did not hear her approach, her soft steps fading behind the noisy talk of those who had come in from the search.

‘Once this starts I will not be able to be with you. They will have to think that I am truly with them,’ Gilly heard Mithadan say. ‘It will take that to convince them I am trustworthy enough to be let in on things.’ She saw Piosenniel take a deep breath, her lips parting as if to speak. Mithadan’s eyes searched her grey ones. ‘If you wish it, Piosenniel, I will put this task aside and stay with you.’

‘You have thought it out well, I think, Mithadan. And though your plan seems more dangerous than I had thought or hoped, it is a sound one.’ She looked at him, smiling ruefully. ‘You know I will not ask you to stay. I only wish that I could go with you.’ She leaned forward and kissed his brow. ‘I will save the naming for you until your return. We will celebrate then, when the task is done.’

They grew quiet as Gilly drew up to the table, and they noted her presence. ‘Some refreshment for you, Mister Mithadan and for you, Mistress Piosenniel.’ The Hobbit smiled and bobbed a small curtsy, withdrawing to the bar where a few thirsty Hobbits had queued up.

Piosenniel took a small sip of her wine, and leaned in close to Mithadan, again. ‘Bird,’ she said low to him, ‘have you spoken with her yet . . .’

[ April 17, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's Post

"Bird?" asked Mithadan in response to Piosenniel's query. "I've not seen her for some time. She might be of some assistance, wouldn't she?"

He sat quietly for a moment, then reached out and took the Elf's hand. "But if I leave now, I shall miss the birth of the twins. How can I do that?"

"And how can you leave Fosco and the others in the hands of their captors?" retorted Piosenniel. "And who else will be taken or harmed if you wait? There is no one else who can do this in the Shire. Would you leave it up to Master Halfred to find the kidnappers?"

Mithadan snorted at the mention of the Shirriff. "He will come visiting soon," he said. "To interview me as a 'person of interest' as if speaking to one man might reveal the mind of another." He fell silent, struggling with an internal debate; duty against desire. At times it seemed that his entire life had been such a debate. But having experienced this conflict often enough, he knew well which side would win in the end.

He looked deep into his wife's eyes and laid a hand upon her belly. Then Mithadan leaned reluctantly away and reached out with his mind. Bird. We need you...

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Finally, the last of the locals had left the Inn. Gilly was dead tired as she locked the doors and wiped off the bar top. She dragged a load of mugs and tankards to the kitchen, and left them to soak overnight in the big stone sink. Prim would not be happy about that nor would Cook, but Gilly simply had not the energy to wash a single mug tonight.

Rose, it seemed had already gone to sleep. She, too, had come in late with some of the Hobbits who had joined in the search. She had barely gotten a hello out to Gilly, when a table of thirsty Hobbits had called Gilly away, demanding another round of ale. By the time they had all gotten what they wanted, and bent her ear a dozen times about the invasion of the Shire by Big Folk, Rose had already disappeared upstairs.

Gilly blew out the last of the lamps in the Common Room, and lighting a small candle lantern went carefully up the inn stairs taking care to step over the seventh one which creaked loudly when trod on. She heard the door to Mithadan and Piosenniel’s quarters open, and saw a figure in the darkness making for the kitchen. She shrugged it off. ‘Probably Mistress Piosenniel,’ she thought to herself, ‘up looking for a snack.’

She continued on up the stairs, her thoughts turning to the few snatches of conversation she had overheard between the Elf and Man. By the time she reached her room, she was wide awake and trying to reason out what they were planning on doing.

The room was dark as she entered. She could hear the soft, regular breathing of Rose. Gilly put the dimmed-down lantern on the small table between their beds and sat down on top of the quilt cover for her bed, staring hard at the sleeping form of the other girl beneath the blankets.

‘Rose!’ she whispered. And getting no response she spoke a little louder, ‘Rose!!’ Gilly reached out with her foot and tapped Rose’s bed.

‘Rose! Wake up! It’s Mithadan and Mistress Piosenniel. I need to tell you what I overheard . . .’

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

theWhiteLady's post:

A few lazy crickets called into the dusk and, somewhere out in the darkening sky, a bobwhite sang his solitary note. Rose sat at the window by her bedside and watched the darkness spread slowly, almost imperceptibly, over the Shire. The sunset had not been brilliant, with bright colours shining desperately for their few moments of glory before fading quickly into the night. Rather, the night had come softly, creeping stealthily, so that it was with surprise that one realized that night had fallen.

Rose felt her lids droop as though the soft glow over the horizon was a lullaby singing her slowly to sleep. The young hobbit roused herself to crawl into the delicious bed waiting with open covers to harbor her in its refreshing embrace; Rose was happy to sink into the soft mattress and forget the sad events of the dying day. It was a relief to fall into forgetfulness and only a moment later, Rose was quite asleep.

A few hours later, which seemed only a few minutes to the sleeping hobbit, Gilly’s persistent voice brought Rose back into the dark room.

“What is it, Gilly?” she mumbled. It took several tries to disentangle herself enough from sleep’s grasp to decipher her friend’s jabbering. Listening carefully, Rose’s eyes became very round and she felt her heart beating faster. It seemed the day had not yet finished with its troubles and thoughts of sleep were quickly chased away by concern for Mithadan’s safety.

“But, what can we do? It’s near impossible to change Pio’s mind about anything once she’s set on it and Mithadan’s almost as bad! It’s not right though,” Rose was impatient with frustration. “They are always tending others, it’s not right that Mith should be gone when Pio has her twins! But what can we do about it, Gilly?” Rose’s hazel eyes filled with tears and turned to her friend for help.

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Gilly sat down on Rose’s bed and put her arms round her friend for comfort. She offered her the hanky she always had tucked in her breeches pocket and waited until Rose had collected herself before she answered her question.

‘Well,’ said Gilly drawing back a little to look the sniffling Rose in the face, ‘we could take either of two paths. We could stay here, and sort of stand in for Mithadan – make sure Mistress Piosenniel has us around to rely on, since Mithadan will be gone. The twin’s birth is only five days away, we can do things for her that she might have asked Mithadan to do or to help her with. Keep her company. And try to keep her mind off the danger Mithadan has gone into.’

Rose shook her head negatively as she wiped the old tears from her cheeks and blew her nose. ‘Pio likes company, but not that much and that close. She would be shooing us out of the room before an hour had passed. If we decided to do that, we would have to be very subtle in our approach. And even now, I can see Pio raising her eyebrows at one or the other of us - telling us she knows what we are doing and would we mind not crowding her so much.’

Gilly sighed, looking down at the rumpled coverlet on the bed as if for inspiration. A few moments later, she looked up, an impish gleam in her eyes. ‘We could help from the other end of the problem.’

‘How’s that?’ asked Rose, her interest piqued by the look on her friend’s face.

‘We could follow after Mithadan! Make sure he’s safe.’ Gilly stood up her hands on her hips, looking resolutely at Rose. ‘I’m sure you and I could find some way to help him. What do you think?’

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

27 Nárië

Cook bent down and pulled open the door to the oven. Ten fine, fat loaves of wholegrain bread were already lined up neatly on cooling racks along the long counters that ran on either side of the stone sink. They would be needing plenty, she thought for the bands of searchers still out looking for Angelica’s boy. She had already sent Hob to the storage room by the smokehouse to bring her a nice big ham. And now she had him busy with the fine edged carving knife, slicing off thin pieces of ham for the sandwiches later.

She took a clean broom straw and tested the doneness of the muffins she was baking for breakfast. Blueberry, blackberry, and apple-currant were pulled from the oven, their crusty sugar-browned tops glistening in the lamplight. She set them to cool in their pans for a little while, then popped them free of their cups and lined them up on racks alongside the bread.

It was quite early in the morning, still dark outside, the time of day Cook liked best. The Inn was quiet, the guests still sleeping. Only Hob was there, skillfully slicing the ham. They worked quietly, each at his own task, exchanging few words, and then only as needed to get the food for the day readied.

Hob, done with the carving, piled the ham on a large platter, covering it with a clean napkin and set it in the cooler. ‘Don’t wake the girls, Cook. I’ll go out and see to the eggs,’ he said, pulling on his woolen coat, and taking up the egg basket with his hand.

‘Leave some for the two broody hens to sit on,’ Cook told him as he reached the door. ‘I’m going to be needing ten plump little pullets when you get done with that. I’ve got a taste for baked chicken with taters and carrots tonight. Might as well get on with providing for their replacements.’ He nodded and went out the door, letting in a little of the chill morning air.

‘Brr! That breeze is cold this morning. Any chance for a cup of tea?’

Cook gasped and turned round quickly at the question, the heavy brass damper hook raised high against the possibility of an intruder. She dropped the hook down to the stone floor with a loud clunk. ‘Miz Pio!’ she exclaimed, on hand over her thumping heart. ‘You mustn’t go sneaking up on me like that, especially these days. You gave me quite a turn!’

Pio had backed away from Cook, standing just out of reach of the long metal tool, a surprised look on her face. ‘I did not mean to frighten you.’

‘No, of course you didn’t, dear. It’s just the old nerves are shot ever since I heard about those kidnappings near Frogmorton, and now the Big Folk have taken one of our own little ones.’ Cook pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, and busied herself with making a pot of tea. ‘I’m real jumpy now. Not sleeping too well. I keep hearing strange footsteps as I lay dozing, but when I wake there’s no one to be seen.’ She placed a generous pinch of tea leaves in the bottom of the clay pot and filled it to the brim with water just off the boil from the kettle on the hob.

Cook pointed to a chair at the kitchen table and bade Pio sit down. Fresh bread, cut thick, spread with sweet cream butter and swirls of honey appeared on a plate in the middle of the table. Cook brought over two steaming mugs of tea and placed one in front of Pio. She put a slice of the fragrant bread on a small plate in front of the Elf, and took the other for herself.

‘Eat up!’ She smiled at Pio and took a large bite of bread, washing it down with a swig of tea. ‘Those babies need some good food. Eat up!’

Hob came in, the basket now filled with large brown eggs. ‘I’ll take a cup of that tea, if you don’t mind,’ he said, rolling up his shirt sleeves and giving his hands a thorough scrubbing. A few moments later, mug in hand, he was sitting at the table with them discussing the events of yesterday.

Every little detail was rehashed, including all the stories they had heard from the patrons at the Inn. Some they discounted and some they nodded their heads over. What they found most puzzling was why the Big Folk wanted to take the children.

‘You think we’d get a note or some such, saying they want something in return.’ Hob shook his head as he said this. ‘But not a word. They can’t be so mean as to just want to frighten us, can they?’

Cook turned to Pio with a question. ‘Your mister, what does he think of all that’s gone on? Can he fathom why they’re doing this?’ Hob looked across the table, also waiting for her answer.

‘These are evil Men,’ she said carefully. ‘Their minds are clouded, their hearts turned toward shadow. Darkness follows them and steals its way into the Shire, bringing sadness and grief.’ She pulled her shawl round her shoulders fending off the sudden chill that crept into the room. ‘Mithadan is nothing like these men. He will aid you, as he can. As will I . . .’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had spent most of yesterday afternoon at the home of Hob and Minta, helping to take care of a parcel of children who'd been left there so their parents could go off searching the countryside for some sign of Fosco and his assailant. She had fussed and fretted at first, wanting to grab up her bow and go galloping through the lanes and fields. She still remembered a number of hiding places from her childhood, and yearned to go have a look, and see if she could find any clues as to the whereabouts or identity of the bandit.

But, by the time she'd gotten to the stables, all of the beasts had been claimed, so she would have had to go on foot. Worst of all, Cami was still feeling nauseous and a jaunt across the countryside, even for a very serious reason, did not seem like a good idea. So she had stayed and helped Minta care for a whole houseful of toddlers and babies who were crawling and tottering about in ten different directions at once.

By the end of the day, her feet and body were aching. Cami wondered if it wouldn't have been easier to go off on her own searching for clues in the lanes and byways. At least, then, she'd have been able to stop for a while and rest, something which had proven impossible with such a gaggle of small children all trying to escape at once out of the doors and windows. As the news had slowly filtered back through the day and evening, she found herself increasingly depressed with the realization that Fosco was nowhere to be found, and all of their children now stood in danger of further attacks.

With the return of the final search party, Maura had come over to retrieve her, now that the other children had been picked up by their parents. The two of them decided to sleep in the stable, for what little of the night remained. That way, Maura reasoned, he could keep a closer eye on Gamba and his charges. Cami immediately drifted off to sleep in the hay, while Maura tucked the littlest ones in under Gamba's watchful eye. Then Maura went and barred the stable door and lay down in front of it to make sure no one else could force their way in. It was probably not necessary, he thought. But, under the circumstances, one could never be too careful.

They'd gone to the Inn that morning to get breakfast, and Cami had searched for Mithadan and Piosenniel, banging on their chamber door with no succeess. Whether they were out, or just preferred to maintain their privacy, Cami could not guess. She had then searched the hallways and back courtyard for her friends, but they were nowhere to be seen. She was deeply worried about Fosco and the other hobbit children, but she also kept reflecting on Bird and Mithadan, and what the shirriff might try to do to them. Even worse were the muttered curses that she'd heard on the part of some of the other hobbits who should have known better. Cami felt an urgent need to see Mithadan and make sure he was alright.

By the time, she stumbled back into the common room to get a bite to eat, she saw Cook and Hob and Maura seated at a table with Pio. Cami joined them, saying little beyond a gruff good morning, not joining in the conversation which centered almost wholly on the latest news, and eating only a crumb or two. After finishing their tea and cleaning bread off the trenchers, Hob and Maura had gotten up to leave. Maura had promised to hold another training session with bows and daggers and pitchforks out under the mallorn tree, and Hob had business to do in the stables, tending to all the horses who had been dropped off there after the search had ended. The Inn was now buzzing with activity, since many of the searchers had stayed the night at the Inn rather than walking home so late.

As Cami watched the two figures leave, she leaned closer to her friend, "Pio, we have to talk. Where is Mithadan? I wanted to speak with him, but couldn't find him anywhere. It's as if he's avoiding being seen. I urgently need to tell him something...."

Pio looked over at her and wrinkled her brow. "Tell him something? What's that?"

Cami opened her mind and let Pio's thoughts come slipping into her own. It took only a moment for the Elf to understand what had happened the night before. Just as she had so long ago on the Star, Cami had found herself dreaming, a vision more vivid than life itself. This time, it was not the Lady of Sorrows or the rascally Gamba with his serious brother. This time, the focus of her dream was Mithadan and Bird. There were dark shadows all about, and Mithadan was wearing a great black cloak. There were Men, evil Men, at his side who seemed to waiver between being suspicious and accepting him as one of their own. Cami knew Bird was there, but she could not see her. Still, she heard the flitter of wings overhead and a small, dark shadow in the rafters. At one point, an evil Man arose and placed his sword within a hair's breadth of Mithadan's throat. He seemed poised to draw back his arm and strike. The whole thing had seemed very, very real. It was at this point that Cami had awoken in a cold sweat with tears streaming down her face.

She glared up at Piosenniel and implored, "What is happening? Whatever it is, you must stop it. I fear for your husband's life."

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

After her fruitless search for the stranger, Bird left the next morning, feeling helpless and frustrated by the Shire's problems. Once again she took up her wanderings, wishing fervently that Pio would just "get on with it", so that they could all leave this little country to it's inhabitants.

Once again she flew north to Annúminas, finding the workings of the Dunedain there fasinating. She was circling over a group of men, watching as they hovered over an old map, perhaps trying to puzzle out where the remains of an old road led to. Apparently the work had piqued the curiosity of some wandering Elves as well, for a small group of them stood amongst the men, pointing in different directions, perhaps relying on their endless memory to instruct the Men as to what these ruins had looked like in times past.

Bird was thinking of landing closer and listening in on their discussion, when suddenly a flash of pain struck through her head: Bird...Come!

With a squawk the little skinchanger plunged the ground, landing in a puff of dust and feathers at the feet of the Men and Elves, shaking her head to rid it of the silent call.

The group burst out laughing at the sight of the little black and white crow hopping about on the ground in their midsts, which caused Birdie to blush red beneath her feathers. But one of the Elves peered sharply at Birdie, and with a small smile, said "Someone calls you changling. Stop your snooping and return to your master".

Bird did not understand Sindarian, and it was just as well, since the idea that Mithadan would be thought of as her "master" would have outraged her beyond measure. But she misliked the way the Elf gazed at her. It seemed his pierced her disquise as easily as Bombadil had. Gathering herself with as much dignity as she could muster, she leapt away from the group and circled high, heading back to the Shire.

By the end of the day, she had arrived back at the Green Dragon, and dived through the upstairs window to land in Pio's room, where Mith sat before a table and wine jug.

"Where have you been. I called for you hours ago."

Yes, and I curse the day that Pio taught you that infernal art. My head is still pounding. Well, I'm here. What do you want?"

[ April 19, 2003: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan offered her a glass of wine and a chair and waited as she relaxed for a moment. Then he relayed the news about Fosco and the decision which he and Piosenniel had reached. Bird's face turned bright red, and Mithadan, recalling another form which the shapeshifter could take, stepped back nervously.

"Are you insane?" exploded Bird. "No, I suppose that you are just the same fool that I've known all along. You can't leave Pio now! I won't have any part of this!"

"Fine," answered the Man calmly. "Then I'll go by myself." He made as if to stand but was halted by Bird. She placed a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes.

"You're serious," she said.

"You remember Fosco, don't you?" he responded.

"Aye," snapped Bird. "A brat if I've ever seen one."

"And when you were a child you were...what?" he queried.

She sighed and gritted her teeth. "All right," she said. "When do we leave?"

Mithadan handed her a bag and headed for the door...

[piosenniel]

Mithadan's Post:

Bird and Mithadan stepped through the backdoor of the Inn and headed east. When they passed the stables, Bird tugged at the Man's sleeve. "Aren't we taking your horse?" she asked. He shook his head. "Our appearance at our destination must befit our tale," he answered.

Bird shoved her hands in her pockets and hurried to follow Mithadan as he moved toward the Great East Road. "We could at least ride him partway," she grumbled. Mithadan laughed. "You've become too accustomed to your wings, but in this case, your feet will serve better."

It was midday when they reached the Three Farthing Stone. Many Hobbits had passed them by on the road, some hurrying by with a fearful glance and others favoring them with an openly hostile glare. "If we're supposed to be undertaking a clandestine task," she growled, "why are we staying out in the open where all can see us?"

"There are times when we should be seen and others when we should not," he answered. Bird's simmering annoyance overflowed at the ambiguous response. "Riddles?" she demanded. "Have you decided to take Angara's place on this journey?"

Mithadan swerved off the road and made towards the south. "We want angry Hobbits to report having seen us," he clarified. "We want to be searched for by dear Halfred and his lads. But we don't want to be found. Now we make our way to the Stock Road where we'll go east again in a more...clandestine fashion."


[ April 21, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ April 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Cami glared up at Piosenniel and implored, "What is happening? Whatever it is, you must stop it. I fear for your husband's life."

Pio clamped her thoughts down tightly once Cami had shown her the dream. She wanted none of her thoughts perceived by her friend. Her face was a study in detachment, though her mind reeled from the darkness of Cami’s dream.

‘I do not know where Mithadan is at the moment,’ she said calmly. ‘But when next I see him, I will tell him of your dream, Cami.’

Pio’s mouth formed a perfect smile, as she looked with concern at her friend. Her hand went to her swollen belly, the smile slowly moving to her eyes as she felt her son kick hard against her side. It faded once again as she glanced back up at Cami, and moved adroitly to change the subject.

‘See how he pushes against me!’ she said, placing Cami’s hand against the thumps of the baby’s feet and the flutters of what must be his tiny hands, as if in caress. ‘Strong, like his atar,’ she said, looking away for a moment, ‘and gentle, too.’

Pio reached her hand out to touch Cami. ‘And your son,’ she said low, ‘have you told his Father of him yet . . .?