[mark12_30]

Loremaster stood at the water's edge, recalling a conversation he had had just an hour ago.

He had searched the crowd, and found Camelia Goodchilde, and gently asked her about her plans.

"I belong with the hobbits, " she had replied, quietly.

He had not answered, and she had looked into his eyes, and found disappointment there. She grew uncomfortable. Looking again into his eyes, she saw a tenderness that confirmed her fears. Her discomfort increased.

He had seen her discomfort. "Forgive an old man his foolishness, " he had said gently. "I know the old tales. I know about your promises, and that your heart was won in Ladros, long ago." He thought of Phura. "It is not only the young who, by dreaming, lay unreasonable burdens on living legends. I beg you, please pardon me."

"Of course, " Cami stammered.

Loremaster sighed again, and looked out to sea. "If you are staying with the hobbits, then there is something I would ask you to do."

"What would that be?" Cami replied hesitantly.

"Keep an eye on my younger son, " Loremaster had replied. "He is brash and stubborn, and will be looking after four young boys. He will need more help than he thinks he needs."

She nodded, relieved. "I will keep an eye on him whenever I can. Two eyes, if I can spare them, " she smiled.

Such a lovely smile she had, he pondered sadly, looking out over the water and lingering in the memory. He would have relatively few more memories of her, and he wanted to keep them as clearly as he could.

A familiar voice interrupted his reverie.

"Loremaster, should I become a hobbrim?"

Loremaster's eyebrows shot up, and he turned to face Gamba. "Why do you ask?"

Gamba's face was strained. "Azraph's father says he's not a fish. So he's not going to the ocean. So Azraph won't either. And I don't want Phura to be all alone."

Loremaster considered Gamba. "And you? Are you a fish?"

Gamba fidgeted impatiently. "That's not the point."

"Do you love the water?"

"But Phura!"

"... loves the water."

"I--" Gamba stopped, and stared at the floor, and tried again. "I'm a good swimmer."

"You are a very good swimmer, " Loremaster agreed. "I think you enjoy rivers a great deal."

Gamba scowled. "I don't want Phura to be alone, " he grumped.

Loremaster met his gaze. "I understand."

"Do you?" Gamba snapped. He didn't think that Loremaster understood any more than usual.

Loremaster sighed deeply, and for a moment envied his son, that he would be watched over by Cami Goodchild. "Yes, Gamba. I do understand loneliness. And believe me, I do not want Phura to have to endure it." He sighed again. "Believe me."

"Then I should become a hobbrim."

Loremaster smiled, and shook his head. "What are your favorite songs?"

"You know. The ones about elvish battles."

"Your favorite stories?"

"Gondolin."

"And as a child, what was your favorite game?"

"Levanto and Piosenniel."

"Gamba, there are no elves under the water."

"No, " Gamba replied, suddenly tearing up. "Just Esta's grave.... my own 'Piosenniel'. She's here, nearby. I could stay here by her."

"Dear boy, " Loremaster said, and threw his arms around Gamba. Gamba, astonished, wondered what had brought about this wild burst of emotion from Loremaster. "My dear, dear boy." And then he took Gamba by both shoulders and held him face to face, speaking in a voice that suddenly seemed made of steel.

"I do know, very well, what it is like to be alone. I don't want you to be alone. I give you my word that I do not want Phura to be alone. And I will do my best to make sure he is not alone. Understand?"

Gamba, impressed by Loremaster's sudden vehemence, nodded. More gently, Loremaster continued.

"But I also know what it is like to be imprisoned. And if you were to follow the wrong destiny, your soul would not be free. You would feel as if you were in prison. You would feel almost as if you were back in the caves."

Gamba grimaced.

"Do you know where hobbrims live when they are not in the water?"

Gamba blinked. "No."

"In caves. Hobbrim live in caves."

Gamba despaired. "But-- but-- I hate caves!" He swallowed hard. "Phura is going to live in caves?" His face fell. "But couldn't I live on the shore?"

Loremaster embraced Gamba tightly. Gamba closed his eyes, and once again went to war with his own soul.

---------------------------------------------

Child's post

Cami sat alone on the beach, not quite sure how she felt. Long ago, her mother had cautioned that she had a blind spot in this area, and it could get her in trouble one day. Cami wondered if she'd said anything that had led to such a misunderstanding. She hoped not. She liked and respected Loremaster too much to do anything like that.

Yet she couldn't help wondering whether this affection was for the perfect legend of Nitir, of for the living, breathing Cami who had many shortcomings. Still, it was a compliment. And she could not help noticing how lonely his eyes had looked. There might have been a time when she would have responded with affection to a kindly and learned soul who offered shelter from the storm. But, with the experience of the Star behind her, and especially her love for Maura, she saw things differently now.

She knew her own feelings had not changed from the time she'd left Tol Fuin. She did not expect that they would ever alter. And to marry someone just because you were lonely or frightened didn't seem like a good idea.

Looking back on things, she had no regrets. Not for an instant would she have given up Maura's love, even though their time together had been so short.

Perhaps, she wasn't being honest to say no regrets. There was one. Sometimes, when she glimpsed a young boy or girl playing, it seemed hard to her that she would never bear a living child. Yet, it wasn't the bearing as much as the rearing and teaching that she wanted. Already, Rose had done something to fill that void. Perhaps there would be others. Her mind turned to Gamba and the boys, but she willed herself not to dwell on that.

Cami looked out and saw a group of hobbrim dragging supplies onto the island from one of the ships. Ancalimon was helping them. The hobbrim turned and waved goodbye, swimming out to deeper waters, while the figure in grey robes walked back over the sand, sitting down next to Cami.

"I thought you might need company." His eyes gleemed with kindness.

"Yes." She smiled. "How do you always know when something's bothering me?"

"Someone just asked if I could stay with him on Meneltarma. I said no. I think my choice is right, but I admire this person, and I know he's lonely."

"Plus, there's something else, something about Maura, I never thought about before."

Cami's voice sounded strained and uncertain. "There were many words between us in Beleriand, but never once did either of us promise not to take another mate. And yet I feel bound to him. I can not imagine being with any other hobbit."

Ancalimon said gently, "Then you have made a free choice. Do not apologize for it. You can't help what others feel."

"This much I can tell you. Maura went to his grave after a full and satisfied life, just as he promised, but without ever taking a wife. We never discussed it, but this is what he wanted. I am certain of that."

"Cami, the closeness of a man and woman can be a wondrous thing, but only if they're meant to be together. Otherwise it becomes a burden and a thing of sadness. If you feel this way, look for your closeness elsewhere. I promise you it can be found."

Cami looked at him and said, "There's something else I've wanted to ask ever since Tol Fuin. Only I was afraid to say it. Are there any more tales you could tell me of Maura and his kin? I've missed them so much. I wondered if you visited him or could recall anything of his family from the time after I left."

"Why didn't you ask me this before?" His voice was gentle and insistent.

She dug her fingers into the sand, struggling to find the words. "It was a long time ago. I wasn't sure you remembered, or that we could even talk about this. I knew there were threads that shouldn't be pulled."

"Little Andreth, I am a messenger of Nienna. I do not forget memories or tears." His voice was stern, but then turned softer. "Nor do I believe the threads of time will be so injured in the telling of a few misty tales. But you must promise to say none of this to any other."

Cami nodded and promised. For a long time, the two sat together as Ancalimon related story after story of people who'd lived long ago. Most of these were about common things that folk of any age would find dear, of snowhobbits growing up and new hope found, of Lindo's family, and Maura's love for his people. At the end of thes stories, she went over and kissed the peddler on his head, thanking him for his gift of tales. And, that afternoon, for the first time, Cami went away certain she'd made the right choice and that the Anduin was indeed to be her home.

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]