That night, as Child lay sleeping, she witnessed a strange thing. The hobbit saw herself standing and weeping on the ridge of a hillside, on a small island within a tree-shadowed lake. Far distant, a Lady walked alone. She was a tall shining figure whose silver edged skirts brushed against grass of green and gold. In her hand was a book. As she read from its pages, her voice rang with measureless sorrow and compassion.
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And thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not its uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite. For he that attempteth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined.
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Child felt irrisistably drawn to the path of the Lady and followed after her as fast as she could. The hobbit yearned to reach out and touch her skirts which, like the curtains in her own chamber, seemed edged with sparkling snowflakes.
Just as Child could run no further, the shining one turned to speak, "Little one, come. I will grant you a blessing."
The Lady bent down and reached out her hand. She was so near that Child could even see her eyes which held deep stores of mourning and compassion. She gently kissed the hobbit's curls and whispered, "Do not weep so bitterly. I am near to you and your kin. I will help you hold on. And I send one who has dwelled in the house of Nienna, who knows the way of patience and pity. But you must use your wits and your heart to protect those who are most weak and vulnerable. Put away darkness, and rise up to greet the morning."
In the next instant, Child was awakened by the sound of songbirds which had lit on her window ledge to greet the first hint of dawn.
[ August 08, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]