[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami sat slumped over the table that stood before the cooking fires in the kitchen, her head resting awkwardly on top of her folded arms. Some time ago, she had yawned, closed her eyes, then drifted off into a groggy haze, despite the ongoing racket of pots and pans and other hurried preparations for their dinner.

"Cami. Wake up! You've been working too hard. The cooking's done. You have to go and get ready for the party. This is your party, too, and you'll enjoy yourself. I've seated you near Bilbo and Lorien." Pio's voice leapt into her mind, as she struggled through to awareness.

Cami dragged herself up and tried to clear her head to focus on Pio's words, vaguely remembering there was no reason for her to go up to the room to change. But, before she could even protest, the Elf had maneuvered her out of the chair and pushed her down the corridor in the direction of her chamber. Cami came into the room and closed the door, and went over to look out her window at the green fields and poppy-strewn meadows and tiny, snug homes that were so clearly visible from the rear of the Inn. Such a very different picture than what she'd come to expect in Greenwood.

The prosperous and respectable citizens of the Shire would have a hard time recognizing themselves in their struggling ancestors who made up her own hobbit community. There were no chambers filled with fine furniture, no lace doilies, and certainly no clocks, such as this room displayed. Still, if the Shirelings could sit down and speak with those earlier folk, and maintain an open mind, they would have sensed a similarity of values and love of family that lay at the very base of hobbit life. Cami vowed neither to brag or to feel shame at who she was, but to acknowledge the hardships and wild beauty of the forest that were now shaping her life, and to somehow communicate that vision to those she loved best.

The staff of the Inn had drawn a lovely, bubbly tub for her and she gratefully sank down into it, using her fingertips to chase the soap around in circles. She sang softly as she bathed, her spirits rising gamely at the thought of the evening to come:

O' Sweet is the sound of falling rain
and the brook that leaps from hill to plain;
but better than rain or rippling streams
is Water Hot that smokes and steams.

Sliding out of the bath, Cami dried herself off, then brushed her hair and tried to get her bouncing curls to stay in place.

Then she decided to change her clothes, since her other skirt and blouse would be cleaner, without so many obvious patches or darns. The shadow of evening had already thrown its arms over the Shire, and Cami's room was wrapped in grey so that it was difficult for her to see, as she hadn't bothered to light her lamp. She slipped her hand inside the wardrobe. She was surprised when her fingers touched something soft and gentle hanging on a hook, something very different from what had been there that morning. Curious at her discovery, she pulled the item out and laid it on her bed.

Before she even got a clear glimpse of the dress itself, she caught sight of the envelope with her name carefully written in Bilbo's elegant hand:

Dearest Cami,

A very long time ago, my mother Primula Took wore this gown on the day she was married. I know nothing of dresses, but I am told it is quite pretty. Many years passed and, before she died, my mother instructed me to hold onto it so that my own wife and daughters, and the wives of my sons, would have the honor of wearing it.

Each of us treads a different path in life, one that we can not always foretell. I shall not be needing this dress, nor is my dear Frodo likely to take a bride. My own story will soon be ending, and I would prefer to see merriment in your eyes while I am still here to enjoy it.

Although we have gone in different directions, I always remember you fondly. If I had been privileged to marry and have a daughter, I should have been most happy if she had turned out to be like you, a bit hard-headed but with a kindly heart.

So please humor an old hobbit by wearing this gown to the party tonight, and keeping it near your side for whatever else might come up in the future.

Best regards from your crusty old teacher,

Bilbo Baggins


Cami glanced at the soft gown, with its traditional green and yellow hobbit hues, put her head into her hands, and burst out in tears.

[ February 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]