[Child of the 7th Age]

Ban and Zira had trudged eastward for several miles, with Abar on his father's back, and Azra in a sling across her mother's chest. There were no other hobbits in sight, and no food to be had other than an occasional berry that grew by the road.

The couple sat down to rest under a bush, listening to the noises of a summer's night. The river was just a few paces behind them, and Abar had asked to go down on his own to get a drink.

"Be careful, Abar," his mother warned.

"He'll be fine, Zira. The river's no more than a foot deep."

To his son, he added, "Make sure to stay near the shore."

The boy nodded and darted away. Leaning over and using his hand as a scoop, he brought the water up to his lips, doing this several times. It was then that he caught sight of a bird, black with a small streak of white. She was perched on the ground near him, her head cocked sideways and staring. She looked hauntingly familiar.

"Mama! Papa!" His parents came running to his side to find out what was wrong.

"Look, I found Cami's bird. She's come to get us. Maybe she knows the way."

His mother bent down to have a look. Without warning, the bird hopped onto Zira's shoulder, and, to her surprise, spoke in a voice that registered mild annoyance, "I know you're not Rose, so I hope you're Zira. I'm tired of poking my beak into the business of every hobbit within a twenty-mile radius of Hobbiton."

"Yes, I'm Zira. Where's my brother?"

"Just follow me. Unless there's been another blow-up, and Maura's taken off with Cami, they should be at the Inn."

Bird said nothing as she flew westward, stopping now and then to perch on a limb, making sure her guests were following. Only once did they stop for a rest. Ban slipped over beside Bird, and whispered, "Are there any large wild animals near here?"

"Wild animals? Not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

"That's strange. I swore I saw two pairs of eyes in the bushes about a half mile back. They were a good six feet off the ground."

Bird gave him a strange look. "Hmpf! Probably your imagination." They continued on with no further conversation until they reached the Inn.

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

It was Maura who first raced to the door of the Inn to greet his sister and her family. Zira had met him with a kiss, while Abar had flown into his uncle's arms with a warm hug. Upon seeing Cami, Zira had slipped her arms around her shoulders, saying how she had been missed.

"I have a room on the first floor, second door on the left. We can all fit there. You and Ban share the bed. I've had sleeping mats put in and a cradle for Azraph."

"And Nitir?"

"Best call her Cami here. She's next door. The rooms adjoin, and there's a door that connects. Cami's found a small burrow over by the pond, and we plan to go over there perhaps tomorrow morning or the next. We'll wait till later to have a formal ceremony, after her friend's given birth." He went on to explain what had happened to Piosenniel, and how she had come to be with Cami.

"Your daughter, Cami, will she be staying in the room?"

"I hope so. We're still waiting for her to arrive." A shadow of concern passed over Cami's face. "I expect she's gotten misplaced just as you did. My boys are out in the barn."

Maura hastily explained, "Cami's adopted several boys. Orphans. From when she was on the Star. I haven't really had a chance to meet them yet."

Zira turned and smiled, "That's wonderful. Older boys, I guess. If they're sleeping out in the barn."

"Not exactly.... One is five, and the other seven."

Zira's face registered surprise, although she tried to mask it. "They're not here with you."

"No, they're with their older brothers."

"Mama, can I go too?" Abar piped up.

Zira turned to her son, and told him to hush. "They'll be time enough to grow up later. You belong here, with us, now."

"Alright." Abar impulsively threw his arms around his mother's neck, and snuggled close to her. Cami looked away and shifted uneasily, then excused herself, and went off to her room, carefully securing the latch.

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

It was about an hour later that Maura heard the sounds of stifled weeping from next door. "Cami. It's Maura," he whispered, fidgeting with the handle, "Please open up."

"I'm fine." The small voice came back lined with untold grief, a grief that had persisted for weeks and months.

"Cami, please. We need to talk."

He heard the sound of footsteps padding to the door, and watched the handle turn. Cami's eyes were red and puffy, as if she'd been crying for a while. She bit her lip to will the tears back, and turned away.

"Cami, my sister didn't mean to hurt you. I'm really sorry. It's just that our ways are, are .....different."

"Your ways are different? Well, so are mine. Where I come from, small children stay with their parents, young lads do not belt the shirriff, or make rude comments to other boys."

She looked up and stared at Maura's face. He had clearly heard the same rumors she had.

"Most of all, where I come from, children love their parents. The little ones come snuggling into bed with them to receive hugs and stories, and the older ones try to do things so they'll be proud. And if a parent lays down a rule, that rule is respected."

"You know, I think I could take anything else. The broken windows and the black eye really mean nothing. It's the part about not caring that hurts."

"Lindo's children cling to him like a burr. Abar darts to you with open arms. But my children....my children run off without a hug, without a word. The little ones didn't bother to say hello or good night. They want nothing from me, except the food I put on their plates. I am a mother in name alone. Only Rose.... She's different, but she's not here."

"I've had dreams. Strange dreams. The boys go far away, all of them except Kesha. He stays behind because of Rose. But for me there is nothing....nothing." Her voice was deep with bitterness. "I feel they take and take and take, and rarely give."

Maura slipped his arm around Cami, and pulled her close to his chest. She finally gave way to sobs, her shoulders heaving, and the tears running down her cheeks.

He thought of a dozen things he could say, things he'd learned from his talks with Bilbo. How the boys had been orphaned and had seen terrible things; how the brothers relied so much on each other; how they had many things that needed sorting out; and how you had to accept people as they were, taking what you could and leaving the rest. Perhaps Cami would deal with it better, if she had friends in Greenwood, or kin, or a husband, or a young child who loved her without reservation. But, except for Rose, there were none of these.

Yet, even to Maura, these explanations sounded like hollow excuses. Some of the things Cami had said seemed painfully true. He might be able to understand the independent actions of the older ones. But to have small children tromp off on their own without a single glance at their mother to hear a bedtime story, to ask permission or get her reassurance..... Something was very wrong.

Cami raised her head, and whispered, "I hoped it would be different here. That's why I asked Lorien to bring them. But it's not different at all. It's just the same."

"I feel they would be better off with some other family. Someone who could give them what they need. Perhaps when I get back, I'll speak with the elders and see if something can be arranged."

"Don't do that," he whispered fiercely. "Don't give up."

But he realized with a pang that he could not say the two things that would actually have done some good. That he would be there by her side to help and perhaps, Eru willing, they would have a child of their own to even out the balance, and set the sorrow and the leaving in some perspective.

[ March 16, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]