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Old 11-04-2002, 12:41 PM   #361
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timelines, timelines....argh

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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Old 11-04-2002, 12:41 PM   #362
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Mithadan's Post: Second Age, one year earlier.

Isilmir looked out over the prow of the Numenorean vessel which he and his men had piloted down the Siril after their rescue. He saw, far to the East, the masts of Elendil's small fleet and the ship made its way toward the vessels of the Faithful under a white banner which they had raised to avoid alarming those on the Nine Ships.

He thought back to the battle under Meneltarma and their rescue from the Locks. They had been escorted through the tunnels by the one named Mithadan and his comrades. Then before Mithadan had turned back to the battle, he had bade an Elf to escort the Numenoreans to the river. But first he had taken Isilmir aside and spoken to him. Take your Men to the river and accept the aid of those there in reaching a Numenorean craft which is moored on the Siril. Take that vessel as yours and go down the river to its mouths and turn to the East. Off the East coast of Elenna you will find Elendil and the Faithful and their Nine Ships. Join them. Do not tarry on your way for there is little time left and the days of Numenor are drawn to their close. Be assured that though Numenor may fall, this shall not be the end of the Men of the West. And though many tasks and hardships may lie ahead, know this: from you in ages hence there will spring a Star which will do great deeds for the good of the peoples of Middle Earth. But you must swear this to me. That you and those with you will tell the tale of your rescue to no one, not even your families or those you love, nor shall you mention ever the presence of the Halflings here on Numenor. And Isilmir gave Mithadan this oath.

His crew had taken the oath as well, but not before some asked him, "Who is Mithadan? And who is the Lady of the Locks who possessed the power of a dragon?" And Isilmir answered, "I know not, save that they acted out the will of the Valar and thus, like us, are among the Faithful. Maybe they were of the people of the Valar themselves. We shall never know. But we owe them our lives and this oath and let none dissent for my heart tells me that we have been on the edge of great deeds and I hold Mithadan to be our brother in hope for the future."

So Isilmir and his Men made their oath. And days later when winds whipped the sails of the Nine Ships and the oceans grew grey and wild and rose and engulfed the Isle of the Star and drove their vessels into the East, they wept; both for for that which was lost but also for the hope for the future which had been gifted to them by a Man that they had never seen before and would never see again.

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]
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Old 11-04-2002, 01:39 PM   #363
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Pio's post:

Once the shift in time had been made, then Idril answered Ancalimon’s call to come and tend to Rose. He worried about the wound from the spear, but more so he worried about the blow she had taken to the head.

She had seen Rose several times now, and today was pleased to find her looking less pale than before. Cami and Andril, had been sitting with her, and said Rose had not opened her eyes or responded to their voices in any way. Idril sat on the bed next to Rose, and opened her healer’s chest to take what she needed from it.

She spoke softly to Rose as she moved through the motions of her care. The Hobbit was pale, her heart and breathing still rapid from the blood loss she had suffered. She slipped in and out of consciousness, moaning softly when the pain assailed her.

The wound itself was grievous. It was deep, penetrating to the bone of the ribcage, cracking the rib which had stopped it. She had cleaned out the gash, and now packed it with healing unguents. Soft, absorbent dressings were laid over it, and a clean band of linen bound round the Hobbit’s chest.

‘Come help me!’ she called to Cami and Andril, who had watched how she worked with the wound. ‘We must prop her up a little so that she can breathe properly.’ Andril and Cami gently raised Rose up, as Idril tucked pillows and rolled blankets behind her for support.

Rose moaned as they moved her, and Idril gave her a few drops of the honey-colored elixir to ease the pain. The Hobbit’s lips moved greedily toward the sweet liquid and would have more, but Idril eased her head back against the pillow with her hand, saying, ‘No more, little warrior! That is enough for someone your size.’

Sharon's post:

Then Idril explained to the women that the mind sometimes shut down after a grievous injury. Often it awoke naturally, but sometimes not. This seemed to have happened to Rose. They would try and help her.

"First, you must join with me. Otherwise, you will not be able to understand what I do to help Rose."

Andril concentrated, carefully focusing her mind until the link was established. Cami sat back and blurted out, "I'm not sure I can do that."

Idril looked sternly at her. Then she spoke in a firm, if kindly, manner, "I have been told otherwise by Piosenniel and Ancalimon. This is your friend. If she responds to anyone at all, it is most likely to be you. We need you in this link."

Cami sat down and took Rose's hand in hers. Somehow, a physical touch made it much easier. She tried to do what she'd done the night of the rescue. Only this time her focus was on both Rose and Idril. Her mind jogged. It was almost as if a portal was suddenly thrust open to reveal something that had been there all along, only cleverly hidden from view.

Good, you have not only linked with me, but also the girl.

Then Idril turned her attention to Rose and spoke to her, Come back little warrior! We await you.

For an instant, Cami thought Idril was talking to her the way she would with a friend, but then she realized the words were coming through her head instead.

I will move in and try to wake her. Andril, Cami, watch what I do. Cami, if she responds, she will probably come to you, since she knows you as a friend. Do not thrust her aside. Speak with her first with your own thoughts, and then try bringing her outside with words. The whole idea is to open her up to the outside again.

The Elf leaned over Rose. Her face, with its shining light, spoke of a goodness and beauty that went beyond the things of this world. She caressed the girl's mind, only with thoughts and feelings instead of physical touch. This went on for several moments and still Rose slept. But slowly very slowly, there was movement. First the movement of thoughts, and then the tentative glimmerings of a body reawakening.Almost instinctively, Cami began to talk. Only this time it was inside, not outside.

Rose, are you here? It's Cami. I'm worried about you. Are you alright?

The woman sensed a tiny response from her friend. She went inside Rose's mind and did something very close to gently shaking her, that is, if such thoughts could be translated into physical movement. Cami prodded again.

Rose, is that you? Wake up. I need you back.

The girl looked at her friend and peered quizzically. How did you get in here?

Never mind that now. We both need to get out. Cami gently pulled Rose and herself to the other side, and continued talking, only now out loud.

Suddenly Rose blurted back, "I told you we'd make it alright. I promised we'd get through together, and we did."

"We certainly did," A tear slipped down Cami's cheek. She brushed it aside, and sternly told herself not to start weeping.
The girl lay back on her pillow exhausted. She closed her eyes to sleep, but this time it was a sleep of grace and healing.

Idril showed Cami how she could clean the wound and replace the bandage for her friend. "Now we must let her sleep. She will be fine. She is young and strong. Her spirit will fight to come back, but the healing will take time."

Relief flooded over Cami's face. Now she turned to ask about Mithadan. Idril answered, "I am hopeful. But his wound still festers, and he has not yet spoken. Piosenniel guards over him like a mother hawk with her brood, and will not let any other tend to his needs. Still, it is early. We may see improvement in the next day or two."

Then, Idril made Cami promise that she would spend time with Andril as she made her rounds among the ill and injured hobbits. "It is important that you learn the arts of a healer. Your people will need it. You have skill in this, Cami. Even I can see that in what you have done for Rose."

Pio's post:

Before leaving the room, the Elf had opened her wooden chest and was putting back the herbs, unguent, and elixir she had used, when Andril put a hand on her arm. ‘Yes?’ she asked, looking closely at the Hobbrim.

‘If you would, Lady Idril,’ said the woman, ‘Cami and I are very much interested in the numerous medicinal supplies you carry in that chest of yours. I have never seen so many before! It would be wonderful to have such at hand when need called.'

Idril looked from one to the other, appraisingly. ‘Ancalimon and Piosenniel have spoken with me about your need for such. She would have spoken to you about this herself, but Mithadan is much on her mind these days. It was to be her gift to each of you before you went your separate ways.’ She took out the layers of trays within the chest and arranged them on the rug. She showed them all her assortment, giving a brief description of what each was used for.

‘What are these?’ asked Cami, noting that in each discrete section of the tray there was always a small envelope tucked beneath the herbs themselves.

Idril pull one from beneath the leaves piled on it and opened it, shaking the contents onto the palm of her hand. ‘These are my most precious treasure – the seeds from which each herb springs.’ She carefully returned the seeds to their envelope. ‘You will each receive some of each of these seeds so that you also may continue to renew your stock of herbs.’

Idril placed the trays back into the chest and left it open for the moment. ‘There is one thing which you will need to do before you take the chests I will prepare for you.’ ‘Anything!’ cried Cami, overwhelmed at the generosity of the gift.

‘There is my note book of herbal lore and usage that will need to be copied.’ She pulled out a fair sized notebook bound in well worn leather, filled with drawings, histories and recipes for each herb. ‘If you can come for a short period of time each day until we leave, you can get this copied and we can discuss any questions you have as you go along.’ She placed the notebook carefully on the top tray of the chest and closed the chest lid securely.

‘Can you do this?’ she asked, turning back to face them.

Sharon's post:

Andril nodded her head and gracefully bowed. "Your offer is most welcome. It will be a joy to do as you have asked. I will come each morning to copy the notebooks and learn more of these things. The hobbrim on Meneltarma will bless you for this gift."

Andril prepared to go, but first came up to Cami. "Don't forget. You promised to come tomorrow. We will meet with Lady Idril first. Then you'll come along with me when I visit those hobbits and hobbrim who still need the services of a healer. I'm afraid we have many of those, though I hope to see their numbers lessen." Cami weakly nodded. Then Andril curtsied again to Lady Idril, and left.

The room was filled with an awkward silence, until the Elf addressed the woman again, "And you, Cami, what do you say to me? Can you do this?"

Cami sighed, and wondered what to say. Just how much of the truth should come out of her mouth? This was a great Lady, and she would surely not want to hear her concerns. Perhaps, a polite 'thank you' would do.

But, before she could get her words out, the Elf spoke again, "Cami, what is wrong? You are not one to have trouble expressing your views."

Cami struggled for words to explain, "Lady Idril, this is truly one of the most wonderful gifts anyone has ever given me, especially because it is not just for me, but also for my people. Your generosity touches my heart."

"It is only that....that all of this is happening very fast. I never thought of myself as a healer or master of lore. I grew up in a family of simple Harfoot farmers who struggled to make its way. Before this voyage, I lived in a household of Men and took care of small children. No one thought me wise or learned. If I wanted to know things, I went to the great archives in the city and looked into ancient books. But I kept it to myself. No one came to me for wisdom or looked into my eyes and asked me to bring healing to them."

"I would like to do these things for my people, but I do not know if I can. I am not like Maura or Andril or Loremaster. They are from ancient, respected families. My family's only distinction was sowing and harvesting crops. Mithadan has noble lines of ancestry which go back to King Elros, and Piosenniel is an Elf with all that such a wonderful title implies, but I am just a nobody...."

Cami stopped. As usual, she'd opened her mouth and said a bit more than she had intended to.

A smile played on Idril's mouth. "So that's it."

"You will have to admit that most of those whose names appear in the Lore from the First and Second Age have a more illustrious lineage than mine. Sometimes, I think I have banged into the wrong tale by mistake, and someone will be chasing me out quite soon."

Idril cut in, "Ancalimon warned me that you could be headstrong. He was certainly right on that account. Cami, I can tell you. Neither Ancalimon or I would be offering you these things if we did not feel you had the personal gifts to do a good job and a heart that was inclined to goodness. You must stop doubting yourself."

"And, if the lore of the First and Second Age fails to record the brave deeds of those from simple, humble families, then perhaps the mistake lies in those who do the recording and not in the actions of those good folk. Surely, you must have learned that from Numenor. With all their great monuments and long bloodlines, most of them miserably failed to understand right from wrong. That is what makes the difference Cami, that knowing and understanding, that rightness of the heart, not who your ancestors were!"

"Remember this too. There are different ways of wisdom, not only one. You are not a copy of Adril or Loremaster. Find the path that is right for you, and do not be afraid to go on it."

"Now that you understand my words, I ask again, will you do this thing both for your own knowledge and for the benefit of your people? Tell me yes or no."

Cami knelt down in front of the great Lady, and looked up into her eye and said, "With every bone in my body, with every inch of my will, I will try to go your great gift justice."

[ November 08, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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Old 11-04-2002, 01:40 PM   #364
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Child's Post

It was the afternoon of the second day. Many hobbits still did not know the fate of all their family members. Loremaster knew they’d started out with over a thousand hobbits. About eight hundred had made it through the rescue. These survivors were now scattered between twenty-one different ships.

Family-after-family had been split up on the night of the rescue. Children and others needing assistance had boarded first. Parents, brothers, cousins, and aunts had only followed after they'd finished fighting. There’d been no way to guarantee that members of a single clan would find their way to the same ship.

Now Loremaster, along with Cami and Andril, were trying to take all the broken pieces and reassemble them. Everyone was helping in this gigantic endeavor. Skiffs churned back and forth between the various swanships, carrying children to parents, and cousins to cousins. Khelek and Veritas sat up late into the night, speaking mind-to-mind with the other Elves who were tracking down missing hobbits. Andril had spent the better part of the first day searching for several lost children. She’d scoured the main deck of all the ships, with little luck. The hobbrim had finally found her stowaways tucked away asleep inside the cargo hold of the Star, where they’d wandered to play with the sea cows. Angara and Bird had worked hardest of all, making so many flights to bring little ones back to their families that their wings were beginning to ache.

Loremaster gave Cami a long list that he’d created weeks before to keep track of all the members of the community. She added little notes in the margin to show where everyone was and what had happened to them. When she wasn’t visiting Rose, or playing with Gamba's boys, Cami could usually be found up on deck going over her long lists. Check by check, and name by name, she could see that the community was beginning to regroup.

But there were, she noted, too many spaces with comments of a different type. Terse phrases conveyed the sad story of the many who had been left behind in the tombs. ‘Taken in the selection,’ ‘killed in the battle for the Locks,’ died fighting guards in the main cavern’—--the list went on and on. It was not easy to look about and see so many missing, especially when it happened to be a dear friend or spouse.

Yet few hobbits grumbled or complained. Freedom carried a price. They knew that when they’d agreed to the rescue. At least those who died fighting had done something useful with their lives. For the next five days, the hobbits found themselves sometimes grieving and sometimes celebrating, as they gradually learned the doom of each member of their community, and families joined together to prepare for the landing at Meneltarma.

_____________________________________________


One evening several days later, Cami was up on deck, chasing Asta and Roka and Ban as they romped about with their games. After they'd all collapsed into a pile with laughter, Ban crawled into her lap, so she could teach him a letter or two from the schoolbook she kept nearby. Gamba peered over at the pair intently with a puzzled expression on his face.

The boy wasn't sure whether he should say anything, but then Cami caught his gaze and asked him directly what was wrong.

"I don't know how to say this." Gamba struggled for words. "Ancalimon calls you a master of lore. So does Idril. But you're nothing like any wise woman or wise man I've ever met or heard about. What makes you so wise?" He shrugged and was about to go off.

"Gamba, get back here," Cami asserted sharply. "You don't say something like that and then walk off, without talking about it."

The boy looked uncomfortable but sat down next to Cami. "I don't know, my brother is going to be a loremaster. I love him, but he's nothing like you."

Cami nodded her head. "I expect you're right, about being different, I mean." She thought back on her conversation with Idril.

"But who says masters of lore have to be all the same? Do you know how many different fish there are in this world?" Cami looked out to the sea. Whoever made this place must have loved differences very much, because there are so many different fish, just fish alone, that you could study your whole life and never know them all." Her voice was filled with wonder as she looked out at the grey veil of dusk which had slipped over the waters. At that instant in the deep waves towards the west, a great dolphin breached and came slapping down again with great majesty and grace."

"So you and Phura are different fish?" queried Gamba, interested in spite of himself.

"I expect so. He's probably a dolphin, grand and glorious, and I'm a minnow darting in and out of the bigger schools, but I expect we each have our uses."

The boy scratched his head and thought about that. "Not everyone has to be a dolphin?" he asked. He was genuinely puzzled. That didn't seem to be anything he'd learned about before.

Cami laughed, "Oh, no, how boring that would be, if we were all the same." she assured him. Then she turned about and excused herself to leave.

Gamba sat and thought for a very long time about exactly what those words meant for him.

[ November 08, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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Old 11-04-2002, 01:46 PM   #365
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They had been anchored off the coast of the islet for a week now. Every day Idril had come to the Man’s bedside to change the dressings on his wounds. And everyday she had called out to him to make his way back to them, but he had not answered. For the greater part of those days, he lay fevered and sunk in dark dreams.

‘Mithadan’, she whispered softly to him, as she pushed back the curtain from the porthole, and opened it to the catch the sea breezes.

She came and sat on the bed beside him, a silver bowl in her fair hands. Healing herbs floated on the clear, clean water within. Their scent permeated the cabin’s air, and drove away the smell of sickness and despair. On a small stand to her right, she placed the bowl and from the pocket of her gown she drew some soft cloths, laying them on the bed next to the feverish man.

Brushing the limp, sweaty strands of hair from his face, she gently sponged the cool water on his brow, letting it run in little rivulets down his temples. She laved his face with soft strokes and let the air from the open porthole dry the droplets, bringing cool relief. Drawing back the coverlet, she bathed his neck and arms, letting the tepid water and the sea air draw the heat from his feverish pulse points.

Deftly and gently, her fingers worked loose the bandages covering the injuries to his abdomen. He moaned as the wounds were exposed to air. She soothed him with gentle words and drew a small flask of poppy elixir from her skirt pocket. Supporting his head with one hand, she trickled a thin stream of honey-colored fluid into his mouth, and stroked the side of his cheek and neck, encouraging him to swallow. Relief crept into the features of his face, and he lay back, relaxed, against the pillow.

Using the last of the clean cloths, she dipped it in the herbed water, and cleansed the crusted covering of the wound, gently removing the yellow, foul, exudate from the deepest parts, exposing healthy tissue.
Cleansing her hands well, she dipped the first two fingers of her right hand into a small silver lidded jar she had brought and applied a generous amount of the poultice to the wound - comfrey and thyme oil, bound with an aromatic aloe gel. She covered the area with a clean bandage and secured it with strips of linen wrapped round him.
As she ministered to him, she sang a quiet, rhythmic song, a lulling song, a song of Ondolindë; her words like the fountains there bringing peace and beauty. Once done, she covered him with a fresh blanket, and briefly placed her hand on his cheek in reassurance.

This day he roused as she sang to him. ‘Pio?’ he called, and raised his hand to grasp hers laid on his cheek.
‘Nay, Mithadan. It is my hand you hold.’ He opened his heavy lidded eyes and gazed at Idril. She put her finger to her lips and turned his head to the right. ‘There is Pio.’ She said, pointing to the chair which sat close beside his bed. ‘Waiting for you. She has not left your side since first they bore you down here.’

The Elf sat there, chin on chest, sleeping. Her right arm lay on the bed, fingers just touching his thigh. A book of poetry lay askew on the covers where it had slipped from her grip as weariness claimed her.
He reached for her hand, clasping it tightly in his own. And called her name.

Pio!

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Old 11-04-2002, 01:47 PM   #366
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She woke abruptly at her name, thinking she had probably dreamed it as she had so many times this past week. But, no! There was that certain pressure on her hand as she felt her hand gripped warmly in his. She focused on his face, now turned toward her, and saw his grey eyes regarding her with tenderness.

‘Beloved . . .’ he began, smiling at her. She snatched her hand from his, and rapped him smartly on his upper arm with the flat of her palm. He winced and rubbed at it, frowning at this reception.

‘Don’t “beloved” me and think that everything is going to be alright. You scared me half to death by this foolishness of yours, and no sweet talk from you is going to amend it.’

Her eyes snapped with irritation as all her pent up fear and worry poured out in angry words. ‘What were you thinking, that you told no one you were sorely injured!’ He smiled at her, wanly. ‘By the One, Mithadan, must you be so obstinate!’

‘Obstinate?!’ he said, grinning now. ‘You call “me” stubborn!’ The beginning of a chuckle escaped him. Her cheeks flamed at his laughter and she opened her mouth to retort.

Concern overrode her anger, as she saw him gasp with pain. The simple act of laughing tore like fire through his wounds. She took a pillow and laid it across his abdomen, pressing down firmly and gently to splint the injured flesh and muscle. ‘Here. You can do this yourself.’ she said, guiding his hands into place. She watched as his breathing became more regular, the pain subsided, and his face relaxed.

‘Thank you.’ he whispered, looking at her.

He reached for her hand once more. And this time, she took his between hers, and kissed his fingertips, all anger gone now. Relief flooded in - that he was here, with her, alive. He held her gaze with his, and traced the curve of her jaw line with the back of his hand. She pressed into the pressure of his caress, and sighed.

‘Beloved!’ he murmured, his arm dropping to rest across his chest, his eyelids shutting as sleep and Idril’s elixir pulled him under.

She looked upon his sleeping form and smiled. Weariness assailed her, and she yawned widely. Pulling a blanket from the foot of the bed for warmth, she curled up beside him at ease, and dropped quickly into sleep.

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Old 11-04-2002, 05:57 PM   #367
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The Shapechanger (Lindo's Ode to Bird)

(If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.
If I take the wings of the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there, Your hand shall lead me,
and Your right hand shall hold me.
--Psalm 139)


Phura had missed Bird every time he had come on deck. The little raven-haired lady was here and there, checking on the hobbits and the hobbrim, feeding the sea-cows, checking on Rose, and keeping tabs on Levanto. But Phura never spoke with her.

Until one afternoon on the deck of the ship, he looked up, and there she was. Khelek had just called her over, they were discussing the sea-cows, and the milk-supply for the babies. Phura stood and came slowly over to her, and stood in front of her, suddenly taut and nervous. She looked up, smiled, and returned to her conversation with Khelek. But Phura would not be deterred, and his nervousness increased.

"Bird. Bird? It's you. The song was talking about you."

Raven hair in windblown tangles,
One tress opalescent dangles...


His eyes, wild with hope and fear, locked onto hers, and she stopped, wondering. "Phura?"

"You."

"Are you all right? What's the matter, Phura?"

"You're the lady. And the deep-sea-creature. And the soaring bird. I-- Oh, I've been waiting for you for so long."

He stepped towards her, mesmerized, one slow step at a time, and slowly began reaching for her hair.

...Lindo?

Cami, watching, felt that she had seen this all before, it seemed like a scant few weeks ago. Rose, standing by Cami's side, caught her breath. Angara sipped over to stand by her tangle-haired friend, shrinking down to cat-size, watching, remembering, waiting.

Ancalimon stepped closer, leaning on his staff, narrowing his eyes. Three thousand years ago, he thought, nodding... and newly surrounded by the sea. Yes, I remember.

Although he was as mesmerized as Lindo had been, Phura's face showed a desperate longing, and he trembled with it. Bird watched him, curious.

Loremaster stepped to Phura's side, within arm's reach. Cami thought he was standing just where Maura had stood. But unlike Maura, Loremaster was not smiling. He looked worried, tense, afraid.

Bird smiled, thinking of Lindo, and she waited for the laughter to bubble up in Phura, waited for the awakening, the wonder, the freedom.

Phura's face only grew more strained, more desperate. "Please, " he said. "Please. I know you can change me the way that you changed him. Please. I've waited for this all my life."

Gamba took a deep breath, and remembered. "One more thing, " Phura had said back in the caves, by the water. "I could ask for one more thing." This was it-- the storms out to sea, the wild longing that Gamba had never understood: this was what his brother dreamed about, over and over again.

Bird looked down at the pleading hobbit. "Ummm... sorry?" she replied, starting to worry now. "Change you? What? I can't change you. I can only change me."

"You can change me like you changed him, " Phura insisted. "You can do it. Please. Please, change me."

"Bird, I'm sorry, " Loremaster interjected. "I've tried to explain that it was just poetry, and that Lindo didn't really change. He has never believed me."

"No, " Phura cried. "It's real. It has to be real, I know it's real. You're going to change me. You can, you will!"

"Um, " Bird laughed nervously and pushed a stray lock from her face, "what do you mean? I can't. I mean, I really.... I can't."

Her genuine confusion and embarassment began to penetrate Phura's heart, and finally realizing that she truly did not know what he meant, Phura despaired, and fell to his knees. "You can," he whispered, and tears flowed.

Loremaster put a comforting hand on Phura's shoulder, and said to Bird, "Lindo wrote a song, about a shapechanger-- a lady, and a sea-serpent, and a bird. That song has always haunted Phura, and he pinned his hopes on that song; and now-- apparently-- on you. I am sorry. It is not a fair burden."

"I-- I'm a dolphin, not a sea-serpent, " Bird pleaded apologetically, pushing another windblown tangle away from her face. "Phura, I'm sorry. I really am."

Ancalimon stepped forward. "Phura, lad, " he said firmly, "Why don't you sing the song so that we can hear it."

Gamba, by Cami's side, leaned forward. He had never heard the whole song.

Phura was shaken badly and afraid to sing, but Loremaster stood by him. "I'll back you. Go ahead." When Phura faltered, Loremaster took up the song until Phura could continue. Neither of them could sing long without tears; they went back and forth several times.

Raven hair in windblown tangles,
One tress opalescent dangles;
Darkling eyes that downward call me,
Oceanward, abyssward draw me,

Sinking downward, diving deeper
Plunging through the sun-shot water
Soul-thirst quenching, not by drinking,
Deepest longings satisfying.

Under tumult undulating,
Depths and watery chasms plumbing;
Waves and wind and storm defying,
Hurricane and tempest riding.

The Abyss calls! Wild I answer;
Sea, my love! My stormy partner,
Draw me deeper! Heart is stolen;
Soul dives down, and I must follow.

Longing pulls me; cares abandoned,
Careless heart and soul and song are
Thrown wide open, laughing loud, to
Destiny surrendered gladly.


Climbing now, the waves refinding;
Riding on the surface, gliding,
Spreading wings, the wind now finding,
Different blueness wings now striding.

Far below the earth lies waiting
Spread afar and near, lies waiting;
No call earthward do I yet hear,
Patience lying far beneath me.

Spiral upward, feathers drying,
sunlight shining, drawing, calling,
Sunward seeking, striving skyward,
Beating wings still climbing higher,

Til the updraft lifting finds them,
fills my sails of feathers fine, then
soaring, riding heaven's breathing,
Clouds highest desire weaving.

The heavens call! Wild I answer;
Wind, my love! My stormy partner,
Draw me higher! Heart is stolen;
Soul has flown, and I must follow.

Longing pulls me; cares abandoned,
Careless heart and soul and song are
Thrown wide open, laughing loud, to
Destiny surrendered gladly.



The song ended, and Lindo was free; but Phura had not changed.

Drenched in his own tears, Phura still knelt, despairing, on the deck. He had exposed and laid bare his deepest dreams before a crowd of strangers, and they had been revealed as empty, lifeless, and vain. As a last lingering farewell to his dreams, he reached out and caressed Bird's bare foot.

But the hobbrim, listening, whispered among themselves, and nudged each other. Kali began to walk hesitantly forward, and as he did, Ancalimon stepped forward with him, and spoke.

"The kind of change that you seek can only be given by Eru, my lad. But sometimes, Eru does delegate such things, " he said gently, and there was something in his voice that made Phura look up at him, and then at Kali, and his tears stopped. "The second half of the song may not find fulfillment in this life; I do not know. But the first half does lie within the realm of possibility."

Phura slowly got to his feet, and faced Ancalimon, and his despair slowly and steadily melted away as Ancalimon watched him.

"Courage, " Ancalimon said. "And patience. New hope will find you, if you lay down the old hope that has died." He almost called him Lindo.

Phura slowly, slowly absorbed what Ancalimon said. Kali stepped forward, and put a hand on Phura's shoulder, willing him to understand, to wait.

The somber atmosphere was way too much for Bird. "Um, " she began quietly, hesitating, and Phura, a regular hobbit again, turned back to her free from expectations.

"You know, I don't see any reason in the meantime that you shouldn't see a bit more what it will be like, " she shrugged, and Ancalimon laughed quietly. Seeing that Ancalimon did not stop her, Bird's mischief grew, and Kali understood. Kali pulled Phura to the rail. "Come on." Kali climbed up and jumped, and Phura followed him over the side.

With a squeal of delight and relief, Bird chased them, springing high into the air and morphing on the way down.

Ancalimon laughed and laughed, leaning on his staff.


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

[ November 04, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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Old 11-05-2002, 03:11 AM   #368
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Levanto was waiting, and caught Phura in his arms as the Halfling flew over the rail hand-in-hand with Kali. The shock of the cold sea-water made Phura gasp, but as he exhaled, the weight of the tunnels and all that had happened to him there left his body. He flung his arms around the neck of Levanto and watched the antics of Kali and Birdie frolicking about them.

“So, Little One, how do you like my home?” the Mer-Man grinned. Phura gazed around him, seeing the flat expanse of the sea, feeling its buoyancy, and watched as a kittiwake made its way to the small island that had suddenly appeared on it route. The seabirds had soon discovered this new islet in the sea, and were inspecting it as a possible site for future nesting.

But it was not enough. “This is only the roof of your house, Levanto,” Phura smiled back. “I want to see more. I want to go where they go.” Kali and Bird bobbed up in front of the Hobbit, Kali handing him a small conch shell that he had found below. Phura took it, holding it to his ear as he had read in old poems, and heard the echo of the waves on imaginary shores. He looked down at the beautiful remains of the conch, and thought of one who would have loved the feel and the sound as much as he. “Please, I want to see what you see. Take me down there. Take me to the Abyss. “

Bird and Kali looked at each other, then at Phura. The Halfling had not been wounded or ill, except by cares and loss, but the tunnels had stunted his growth and prevented his limbs from finding their full, youthful strength. Phura, like many of the Children of the Caves, looked so fragile. And yet his eyes gleamed with such life and purpose, the first sign of the healing to come. It would be wrong to deny him his wish.

“Very well,” said Bird, “Grab hold of the fin on my back, as tight as you can. Take three deep breaths. Then close you mouth tight, and open your eyes.” Phura held tight to the gray, upright fin as Birdie swam in slow circles around Levanto. Then counting “one…two…three…hold your breath!” she dived beneath the waves, taking Phura with her.

They swam just a little ways below the surface, and the green glass glow of the water dazzled Phura. Birdie circled down a little farther, pulling the Halfling along with Levanto and Kali swimming escort. They flew past the fat, short face of a curious Grouper, who turned and cast a wide eye on the strange procession as it sped by. A school of silver sardines scattered as it saw the dolphin heading its way, turning in time and flashing like chain mail. And deep within Phura’s body, he felt the low vibrating calls of a school of whales a mile away.

Then t was over. The four broke the surface by the ship, and the crowd hanging over the rail laughed and applauded the return of the adventurers. Phura laughed aloud and waved to his brother far above. “I saw it, Gamba! I saw the Abyss! It was beautiful!“

Loremaster smiled through his tears and placed a comforting arm around Cami, also in tears beside him.
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Old 11-05-2002, 01:09 PM   #369
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Sting

Mithadan rested on a bed of white sand. He could hear the murmur and sigh of the ocean as its waves swept up and down the beach. He was weary so that he could barely lift his head and the pain from his wounds nagged at him; an unrelenting reminder of the bloody night beneath Meneltarma. Every stroke of his sword, every Man that had perished at his hand was graven upon his memory. But so also did he recall the faces of each Hobbit and Man that he had swung his sword for and, in balance, the rightness of the cause he had served outweighed his guilt over any blood he had spilled. He was content.

Above him, silhouetted against the blue sky was a familiar face, the Lord Ulmo. For a moment the face was grim as he examined Mithadan's wounds and the hidden scars that he also bore. Then the noble head nodded and a smile appeared that seemed bright as the sun. So, thou hast solved the riddle of thy doom and remain among the living. Know this, Child of Man. Between the Atani and their Doom, the Valar may not intercede; that power rests only with the One. So pleased I am that thou hast survived the test. And though I could not have prevented thy death, even if I had solved the riddle, I can now ease thy suffering somewhat. This at least thou hast earned. He raised a great horn of shell and poured out a clear liquid onto Mithadan. The Man felt at once at ease and refreshed. Awake and arise! Thou and thy friends are victorious. But I have need of thee even now.

Mithadan opened his eyes and beheld the ceiling and walls of a cabin on the Elven ship. But Ulmo remained and smiled again upon the Man. He rose from his bunk and stood before the Lord of the Seas. The slight noise roused Piosenniel and she shot to her feet upon seeing her husband standing tall and straight. Then she bowed her head before the Vala.

All have died of those who must. All others will mend quickly now. And so this journey must soon continue, for the Halflings must be taken to their homes. The one you call Cami will know where. I will come again soon for the time has come for the Halflings to make their choices.

The mighty figure dissolved into a mist which flowed through the open porthole and out to sea. Moments later, the Telerin Captain burst through the cabin door. "I saw smoke..." he began, then stopped in astonishment, for Piosenniel and Mithadan were locked in a tight embrace.

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Old 11-05-2002, 01:41 PM   #370
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Child's post

Despite all the sadness and loss, everyone woke up that morning knowing that something special was about to happen. This was to be the day when the hobbits and their rescuers finally walked on the shores of Meneltarma. Even the Elves, with their quiet assurance and vast knowledge, were genuinely curious about what they might find within the isle.

The ships were located only a short distance from the shores of Meneltarma. They pulled easily into the harbor to dock, the Star leading the way like a mother swan forging a pathway for its cygnets. Many hobbits crowded near the ramps hoping to be among the first to exit, straining to catch a closer look at that small and mysterious island nestled within blue-green waters of perfect peace and harmony.

The isle itself was dipped in flowers and sunlight. Bright green fields, gently shadowed forests, and beaches of pure white sand lay at the base of Eru's Mount. The mountain was so close to the heavens that the hobbits could not even see where its top point lay. Sea beasts gamboled below in the cresting waves, joined by Levento and his folk, or played closer to the shore in nearby coves. Gulls and terns swooped overhead, plunging down to nestle on twiggy homes already full ladden with eggs. Yet, wherever the hobbits looked, all traces of the tombs, all hints of suffering and death, had been swept away and replaced by something wondrous.

Ancalimon and Loremaster were the first to leave the boats and step onto the soil of that new place. The hobbits and Elves followed close behind, coming up shipload by shipload as the vessels docked.

Even Rose had managed to leave her sickbed that day. She leaned against Bird's shoulder, smiling broadly for the first time since the rescue. Cami walked near Gamba, with the chldren playing about their legs. The boy looked about him with longing in his eyes and only wished Esta could have shared this. He hoped that, wherever she was, there would be as much beauty and peace as he could see here today.

Elves, hobbits, and hobbrim, all gathered together on the beach, marvelling at the freshness of the land. Idril leaned close to Khelek and confided, "This spot is small, and is meant for mortals, but the isle bears some resemblence to the shores of Elvenhome."

Then Loremaster turned to the crowd and spoke, "Enjoy yourself now. Rest or explore these pathways as you see fit. Take time to eat the food from your baskets that you have carried along."

"We will meet again at mid-day in the shaded grove to the west of Mount Eru and pay our respects to those hobbits who died. Then we will talk of other things which must be decided within a few days' time."

And all listened carefully to Loremaster, all, that is, except one. Phura sat on the edge of the beach, with Azraph beside him. At first they held hands and stared out towards the waters. Then the hobbit put his head down into his hands and began to cry. A single refrain ran through his mind, Home, home, I have finally come home.

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Old 11-05-2002, 01:48 PM   #371
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Sting

Kesha wandered away from Gamba and the four little ones, and ambled over to Phura and Azraph. Azraph looked up and smiled, and Kesha put his young arm around Phura's shoulders as he wept, and did not ask questions.

Gamba watched him go, and nodded; Kesha always stayed with Phura whenever he could. He was tempted to join Phura and Azraph, but cascades of laughter from Roka and Asta turned his head, and he saw them racing towards a flock of birds on the hillside. Maura and Ban followed hard after them, and Cami watched with a smile. Gamba sprinted to catch up.

For the next several hours, the children raced back and forth between Gamba and Cami, bringing them all kinds of barely imaginable things. Gamba shook his head in wonder as the children brought him different shapes and colors and kinds of leaves, flowers, bugs, twigs, bird eggs, butterflies, moths, brightly colored mushrooms, grasses, weeds, and even a rather panicked baby mouse.

With the memory of Esta coloring everything he saw, he ached for her; but he wondered nevertheless, and revelled in the new sensations; and the delight in the eyes of the children did not escape his notice. They immersed themselves in every sight, sound, texture, and smell. Maura tasted almost everything, much to Gamba's dismay and Cami's amusement. However, Cami did prevent him from tasting mushrooms she was uncertain of, and the insects, and the mouse.

Eventually they found their way into a pine grove, and the smell hypnotized Gamba. Cami beckoned him over to a certain tree with low, easy branches, and began to climb it. It only took a moment for Gamba to catch on, and soon he was far higher than she wanted to go. Noticing Asta and Roka in the lower branches and Maura and Ban reaching for them, she descended in a hurry. Gamba stayed high, feeling the wind in his face, and Cami watched him climb outwards along the branches, bending them, feeling the pine needles with his hands. He went further out.

"They can break, Gamba, " she warned him.

"What?"

"The branches. They can break. It's a long way down."

To her complete astonishment, he considered her words, and moved in a little.

After a while, he came down, and they moved on to some new trees. These were beeches. Cami smiled.

"Elves like these trees, " she said.

"Really?" That intrigued him greatly. He studied them, touching, smelling, and looked for one to climb. The branches were further apart, but he struggled partway up. He touched the bark, the leaves, he gazed up at the sky. He laughed. And then he wept, a little.

Hours, and innumerable trees, leaves, twigs, bugs, and butterflies later, they returned. Cami and the four children followed Gamba, who went to Phura immediately, and began to pour out descriptions of all the wonders he had seen. His words tumbled out faster and faster, and Phura smiled, listening, with an air of sadness that Gamba missed in his excitement. The children interrupted, adding details, and still Phura listened, and Azraph held Phura's hand.

When Gamba finished, Phura rested his hand on Gamba's shoulder, and they all sat together looking out at the water. Gamba searched for a stone to toss. He found one, and drove it straight and hard into the water.

Nobody said anything for a moment, and then Gamba burst into tears, and turned, and looked behind him, scanning the mountain. "I wonder where the graveyard is," he choked.

Cami considered the mountainside, carefully, thinking about where the boats had landed, turning this way and that to get her bearings, and then she turned towards the water, thought for a while longer, and pointed. "Under there. It's far, far below the surface of the water, way down. But the graveyard is under there."

Phura, seeing Gamba's face fall into even deeper sorrow, began to get up. But Cami was ahead of him. She stepped to Gamba's side, and before she even had her arms around him, he buried his face against her. She held him tightly.

The storm passed. Knowing that it was the first of many, Cami released Gamba, who then turned from her, embarassed by his outburst, and walked away from her. Phura shot her a grateful look, and wondered how she had gained his trust.

She wondered too.

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Old 11-05-2002, 02:30 PM   #372
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Old 11-06-2002, 12:09 AM   #373
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Sting

Cami had outdone herself in packing a picnic lunch for the children with numerous sweets and delicacies. The five boys gathered round, tasting a little of this and that, arguing about what was the best, and the dishes they could do without. There were so many simple pleasures they'd never had the chance to sample that it was a joy for Cami to fuss over them. She'd invited Phura and Azraph to join their group as well as Gamba. Azraph kept asking questions about what was in the different dishes, and how she had made them, and which ones had come from her home. Gamba sat on the edge of the gathering, eating little and saying less.

Then Phura turned to her and asked a serious question. "Where you come from, what sort of lore do your children learn? Do they have songs like Master Lindo wrote, or perhaps more like the poetry of Loremaster?"

Cami opened her mouth and closed it again. She had no idea what to say. She'd learned enough about the hobbit culture of the First and Second Age to be familiar with many of their works. Truthfully, most of them were nothing like the ones that her own people recited. There were a few like Lindo's poems on Piosenniel or the one on snowhobbits which were lighthearted, but most seemed quite different.

For one moment, she thought of wildly exaggerating and passing off one of Bilbo's lays as a typical product of the Shire. But that would be a horrible lie. Better not pretend something that wasn't even close to the truth.

She cleared her throat and tried to explain, "Your songs are more like the poetry of the Elves. Hobbit verses are quite different than that. They are about everyday things, plus lots of nonsense. There are poems about big oliphaunts, the fat cat on the mat, trolls that try to outwit you, different things like that." She shrugged her shoulders, and continued setting out dishes for the children to sample.

Phura looked frankly puzzled. Gamba came over to listen more closely. "What's your favorite?" he demanded.

"My favorite? My favorite is a song about taking a bath. You can sing it in the tub." Cami blushed and put her head down.

"A song that can be sung in the tub?" Gamba laughed and then whistled. "I'd love to hear that."

"Well, perhaps you will, but not today."

"Excuse me, Mistress Nitir, but there's something I wonder about," Phura broke in hesitently. "Master Maura, was he like that? Did he like these nonsense songs?"

"Maura, oh yes, he was very much like that. He and I shared a love of history as well as a love of a great deal of nonsense. That's one reason I felt so comfortable with him. Neither of us were great poets or songmasters. We left that to Lindo."

"But then how could he have been a great master?" Phura abruptly closed his mouth and looked embarassed, ashamed of what had slipped out. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."

"Don't worry, Phura. Everyone's different. Maura was a master as much as Lindo, only they were not the same. Lindo loved poetry and song. And Maura. Maura could see into the heart. He understood why hobbits did things, what made them afraid, and how to bring hope. That's why he was such a wonderful teacher. He could take a child who was afraid to learn and teach him that there was no reason to be afraid. I learned a lot from him. About being a teacher I mean."

Gamba came over and sat next to Cami. "I would like a teacher like that."

She said nothing for a moment, then touched him on the shoulder, "Perhaps someday, you shall have one."

[ November 09, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]
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Old 11-06-2002, 10:34 AM   #374
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Sting

Azraph turned to Phura suddenly, and pointed at his face and hands. "Why is your skin red?"

Cami took a startled look around, and suddenly announced in a commanding voice, "Under the trees, all of you. Now."

"Why?"

"It's been cloudy or foggy for days and days, ever since the rescue. This is the first fine, bright day you've had."

"What of it?"

"Have you ever heard of sunburn?"

"No."

"Well, you have now. If it gets much worse, you won't sleep well tonight. Come on. Into the trees. Let's go." She frantically gathered the picnic items that were spread all over the grass. Everybody helped her, and they trudged towards the woods, laden with goodies, Maura chirping happily and chewing on a pastry.

Phura was the last to retreat from the water's edge, very reluctantly. They touched each others' faces, wondering, and Cami fretted over the children, rebuking herself for not having thought of this before now.

She ran and warned Loremaster, who was already pink. The elders herded the hobbits into the nearby forest.
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Old 11-06-2002, 02:27 PM   #375
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Pio turned, her husband’s arms still tight about her, laughing as she heard the Elf stop in mid-sentence. He had averted his eyes from this private moment and was backing out the door when she spoke to him, her eyes flashing impishly at his discomfort.

‘Fallinelë! Stay a moment. We were . . . celebrating - having come through this grievous time, whole. But now there is time in abundance for us, and I would speak with you. She pushed her books off the chair for him to sit. Her hand still clasped tightly in Mithadan’s, they sat on the edge of the bed facing him.

‘First, I want to thank you for piloting us all in safely, and for standing your ground in the press of battle. It was a small beacon of hope in that fire and darkness to see the white ships awaiting us at our return.’ He accepted this gracefully, saying that his ship was at their disposal for as long as it might be needed.

‘Ah, that is just what I had hoped to hear from you!’ She detailed for him then what would soon take place among the Hobbits, and how the remaining Hobbits would need transport to certain places in Middle-earth. His eyes grew wide for a brief moment as she spoke of Ulmo and of the Choosing. ‘It will be our pleasure to aid you in such a time as this, in which the promise of Light shines undimmed into the future.’ She smiled at him warmly, saying that soon Mithadan would have a plan worked out for the Hobbit transport and would discuss it with the Elven Captains. Fallinelë nodded at the Man, saying he would await his instruction.

They spoke then of other, lighter matters, and soon Fallinelë stood to go, saying he had planned to attend the memorial which was planned for today on the isle. She looked at him, and asked what he spoke of. He told her of the plans for the picnic and then for the memorial later that day.

Once he had gone, she pulled Mithadan to his feet, saying, ‘I suppose we ought to make an appearance today. Do you feel up to it?’

He grinned at her, holding her close. ‘Perhaps we could miss the picnic and appear at the memorial.’ He winked at her. Abundance of time, as you said . . . ‘

‘A compromise, perhaps?!’ she offered. ‘What say you to using our abundance of time later? I’m very hungry, and a relaxing meal in the fresh air, among friends sounds wonderful.’

‘As you wish.’ he said, laughing as he pulled on a clean shirt.

[ November 06, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Old 11-06-2002, 04:29 PM   #376
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Sting

Tol Meneltarma had the air of a land reborn. Mithadan was amazed at the extent of the vegetation which had grown since the Isle of Elenna had been overwhelmed by the seas. It seemed a place which bore the blessings of the Valar as if in apology for the destruction that had been wrought as a result of the Numenorean rebellion.

He breathed deep the flower scented air. He laid on the ground besides Piosenniel in the small grove of beech trees watching the Hobbits and Hobbrim explore and frolic. A Hobbit lass ran up abruptly and presented a bouquet of blossoms to Pio.

"This is for you for helping us," she said breathlessly. Pio laughed and tasted the scent of the flowers. Then she thanked the girl. But before she could run off, Mithadan stopped her. He had noticed that the flowers had not been plucked. Their stems had been cut with an exceedingly sharp blade. "What did you use to cut these?" he asked. She drew forth an ornate knife with runes written on the blade. Mithadan examined it. "This came from the caves?" he asked. "The tombs," she responded.

He drew out his own knife and handed it to the girl together with the Numenorean blade. "Could you take this and any like it to the Lonely Star, please?" he asked. "You may have mine in its place." She nodded and ran off.

Piosenniel looked at Mithadan with a quizzical expression. He waved off her questions and set his head upon the turf. In moments, he had fallen asleep.

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Old 11-07-2002, 12:54 PM   #377
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Sting

Under the trees, Gamba looked up, and often tapped Phura and pointed things out to him. Shapes and colors of leaves and twigs and branches, bugs, and birds, all fascinated him, but the fragrances thrilled him most of all, and he sniffed and savored and brought Phura twigs, leaves, bark, and evergreen needles to smell. Phura dutifully smelled and inspected each one. Finally he studied his brother.

"You like the trees a lot, don't you?"

Gamba's sparkling eyes answered him, and then he siezed Phura's hand and said, "Come on!" Phura obediently jumped up, wondering, and Gamba led him to the pine that he and Cami had climbed. Azraph followed.

Soon they were high up in its branches, and Phura obediently smelled or studied whatever Gamba called his attention to, jumping on the branches and feeling them give way, listening to the wind in the boughs, studying bird-nests and variations in the bark.

Gamba's enthusiam was inescapable, and as Gamba rattled on and on, Phura sadly smiled, knowing that he had been correct. His brother had no great love of the sea for its own sake. He was a creature of the earth and the air and the wood, and there he would find his own happiness.

Phura turned, and gazed out through the pine branches, and glimmers of the sun on the water filtered through the branches. He knew deep within that that surface, that he loved so well, would come between him and the brother he loved so well; he would be at home beneath it, and his brother would be at home above.

"Phura, " Gamba said. "Why are you crying?"

Phura shook his head, and said nothing. Gamba and Azraph came to him in the branches, and he brushed his face dry, smiled, led them down the tree, and changed the subject.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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Old 11-07-2002, 03:46 PM   #378
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OOC: If you have eulogies, poetry, or wish to think about your loved ones, please do it after this post.

At mid-day, everyone from the ships convened in the shaded forest grove as they had agreed. Ancalimon had found a grassy spot tucked away near the base of the mountain. Many beautiful trees grew here, but they were not as thick as in some other corners of the grove. The branches of the beeches and the elms rose up sturdily towards the heavens, but shafts of sunlight managed to shine through here and there, throwing dappled shadows onto the ground cover. Hobbits and Elves sat together, waiting for Ancalimon and Loremaster to speak.

Green leaves rustled overhead and soft winds blew, providing cool music for all who listened. These breezes sang of doom and choice, of lives grounded in gentleness and sacrifice, and whispered a quiet note of sorrow and longing. This is where they would locate their memorial for the dead. It was not only to be for the hobbits who fell on the night of the rescue, but for all who had lived and died in the tombs--big folk, little folk, and the two Elves who had perished from the ships.

Loremaster sat on a rock at the front of the gathering, turning over memories, one-by-one. He had dwelt in the darkness of the tombs over sixty years. He could recall a bit of Tol Fuin, and the rugged capture and journey which had first led them to the shores of Numenor. So many names, so many hobbits. He couldn't remember them all. And yet he was content. Every family in the grove that afternoon would carry away images of the close kin and friends who'd been sundered from them over the years. It would be enough to begin the healing.

All was silent when Loremaster rose to his feet. He was dressed in simple clothes. Then Phura came by his side, wearing the robes of a wise man, and, in a voice clear and steady, sang of loss and hope.

I stand on the hillside and gaze at you
As you quickly recede from my sight
Slipping away (don't leave me, don't go)
Farewell, wait for me, I cry

For a short time we will be apart
in the light of eternity
I'll come to you, hold me in your heart
Remember me, wait for me

I ride on the wind, my eyes drift back
To the receding hill and to you
Hope lies before me, love lies behind
In time, hope will call you too

But love lies before me all the same
Love travels with me, strengthens me
Love waits behind for you, at home
And before me, far beyond the sea

For a short time we will be apart
in the light of eternity
I'll wait for you, hold you in my heart
Remember me, come to me

Beyond our sight, we see by hope
Beyond our vision, we wait in faith
Beyond the circles of the world
We'll find all our loves again

For a short time we will be apart
in the light of eternity
Iluvatar waits, and says in his heart
Remember me, come to me


Cami sat quietly in the grove next to Gamba and the boys, reflecting both on the tombs and the children she had lost in the First Age. Now, she felt her heart ache as the familiar sweet words were sung. Loss and hope. Turning forward and pulling back. It seemed all of life was like that. An intricate dance, with patterns ebbing and flowing, cutting through the web of time. But her people had known such grieving. Why had this been chosen for them? She couldn't even pretend to hold the answer.

Ancalimon was continuing with healing words for the hobbits, speaking of those who'd perished, and what their lives meant. Cami's own thoughts ranged far afield, as she remembered friends and kin who'd seen their lives cut short. She did not have the wisdom to comprehend such things. Still, there had to be some reckoning to explain why some men of evil lived in comfort, while so many of the Faithful, big and little folk, lay under heavy burdens. Life was sweet, she reflected, but not always easy to understand.

Loremaster stood up, and began to say the names of those who'd died in the tombs. Families broke down and wept. When Esta's name was read, Cami heard Gamba's breath come in sharp, ragged edges, as the boy slid his head into his hands and cried.

When the names finished, each hobbit and Elf came forward with a shell they'd gathered from the white sands and placed them together on the ground. By the time all had finished, a large pile stood at the front of the grove, a mute witness of all who'd remembered there that day. Finally, Daisy and Kali walked up, along with several hobbit children, clutching flowers in their hands. These were not cut flowers. All agreed they'd seen enough of cutting and dying. They wanted to set living seedlings in the soil, plants that could grow and flourish, and sprout again. By the end of the afternoon, others joined them in the chore, until a ring of living blossoms surrounded the memorial place, a flood of different colors and sizes and shapes just like the people who had planted them there.

[ November 07, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]
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Old 11-07-2002, 03:57 PM   #379
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Old 11-07-2002, 06:28 PM   #380
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Giggles and ‘shushes’ alerted her to the presence of the twinlings, as she had begun to think of them. ‘You can come out, girls!’ she called to them. Coral and Shell came forward, and placed a wreath of starred flowers on her hair. They had been wandering the great meadow in the center of the isle, they told her, and had found a dense patch of these beautiful flowers. The girls had made one for each other and then one for her. Adjusting it on her head, she stood, and the three held hands in an admiring ring, saying how pretty each other looked.

It was just after mid-day, and as she stood there, she noticed the gathering of peoples in the shaded grove. ‘What is going on over there?’ she asked Shell, picking her up and pointing toward the trees. She placed the girl back on the ground and knelt down to be at eye level with them. Their faces were serious, and they looked away from her, suddenly shy. Then Coral, the braver of the two, spoke up. ‘We did not want to go to that, Pio.’ she said, her lip trembling. ‘It is too sad.’ Pio frowned in concern and looked at Shell. ‘It is for all those people who died before we came to this beautiful place.’ said the hobbrim, quietly.

Pio stood again and looked to the mass of people gathered. ‘Needs be that I must go there then.’ she told them. Their faces fell, thinking she might take them with her. She looked to where Mithadan lay still sleeping. ‘There is something I would ask of you. Would you do it for me?’ They nodded their heads at her, faces solemn. ‘Mithadan lies here sleeping. I do not wish for him to be alone. Will you watch over him while I am gone and see to his needs should he awaken?’ Smiles of relief flooded their faces, driving away their gloomy thoughts.

They sat down, one on each side of the drowsing Man. As she strode off toward the grove, she heard them whispering to each other, a small giggle escaping from them now and then. She turned, and shading her eyes against the sun, looked back at them and smiled. They had freed the small, red, spicy scented flowers from her bouquet, and were plaiting them among the salt and pepper strands of his hair.

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

She stood beneath the trees, hidden in shadows. Ancalimon had gone down already to sit among the Hobbits in the small clearing when she had slipped silently through the trees. Her ears caught the clear young voice of Phura as he sang a song of parting and remembrance.

She closed her eyes and let her mind wander with the music as it poured over the gathering, flowed over the trees and flowers, ran down the shining waters of the stream to mingle with the seas own tears and shoot up again as waves and foam and wind. Beneath her feet, the layered leaves and rocks lamented all those now gone, trees and flowers called out in remembrance, sending out their fresh, sweet scents in recollection.

A new voice broke in upon her thoughts, naming the dead. Shells, then, heaped one upon the other. Some like small white stars fallen too soon from the sky. Then life pushed in again against the dead, springing up from small hands, bright flames of reds and golds and whites, standing as sure sentinels against despair.

She wept, not for the dead now beyond caring, but for those who bore the burden of their loss. Through her tears she saw the dear face of Cami, the single tear that traced a path down her sun-browned cheek, the weight of it.

She stood there a long time, bearing silent witness to grief and hope.

It was dark now, and her eyes were dry of tears. She came out from the shelter of trees and down toward the mounded shells gleaming softly in the moon and starlight. Nothing stirred at her passing, save for the slender stalks of flowers as she moved lightly through them. She held two golden leaves in her fingers and tucked them carefully beneath a star shaped shell.

‘Thank you .’ she whispered, recalling the faces of the Teleri who had died. ‘May your stay in the Halls be brief, and your life light.’

‘O fading time,’ she sang softly,

‘When morning rises late all hoar with rime,
And early shadows veil the distant woods!
Unseen the Elves go by, their shining hair
They cloak in twilight under secret hoods
Of grey, their dusk-blue mantles gird with bands
Of frosted starlight sewn by silver hands.

At night they dance beneath the roofless sky,
When naked elms entwine in branching lace
The Seven Stars, and through the boughs the eye
Stares down cold-gleaming in the high moon’s face.
O Elder Kindred, fair immortal folk!
You sing now ancient songs that once awoke
Under primeval stars before the Dawn;
You dance like shimmering shadows in the wind,
As once you danced upon the shining lawn
Of Elvenhome, before we were, before
You crossed wide seas unto this mortal shore . . .

. . . Here on the stones and trees there lies a spell
Of unforgotten loss, of memory more blest
Than mortal wealth. Here undefeated dwell
The Folk Immortal under withered elms,
Alalminórë once in ancient realms.’


It was quiet when she had finished singing. She bowed her head briefly, and then turning, went quickly back through the darkened trees.

(Poem: excerpt from The Trees of Kortirion by J.R.R. Tolkien, BoLT I)

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

Mithadan's Post:

Mithadan woke gradually, stripping layers of sleep off like excess clothing until his eyes fluttered open and he looked up at a darkening sky. He heard the sound of a voice reciting names and realized that it was a roll of those who had died in the caves.

He sat up and looked about. Piosenniel was gone. Next to him sat two Hobbit lasses with broad smiles on their faces. "She has gone to the ceremony," one said. "We were to keep you company while you slept," piped in the second. He smiled his thanks and rose to his feet. He passed through the ring of trees and stood at the back of the crowd, watching as a pile of shells was made; one each to commemorate the dead. The tears of those left behind ran down faces and dropped to the grass as memories of times happy and sad mixed together in the minds of the mourners.

Mithadan breathed in the fragrant air of the island. Reborn indeed; built upon the bones of the departed both the evil and the good. He thought of the generations of the Faithful who had lived on Numenor and the many who had died either at the hand of Sauron the accursed or in the drowning of what had once been a fair land. And he wept also, not only for those who had died but also for those who were yet to live but were doomed to walk in the shadows. When all had been spoken and all had been mourned, he too turned away and returned to the Telerin ship to gather his things before moving on to the Lonely Star.

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Pio's Post

Pio stepped onto the silent beach and watched the waves, backlit by moonlight, break against the sand and run in thick lines of foam, curling up round her ankles. The water beckoned her with its frothy kisses, the slow push and pull of the incoming tide.

She ran with abandon into the welcoming waves, diving deep beneath them, to surface far along the silvered path laid down across the waters. Tilion steered the last flower of Telperion across the dark night sky, and she swam his wayward course until her arms ached from the effort of it and her lungs burned.

Angara called her back. She was much in her mind these days, seeking still to keep her safe. Come back to the Star! You have gone out too far. I would speak with you.

I know what you would say to me, Dragon. This day has already had its share of sadness. Leave me in peace for a while longer. Then I will return to you.

She lay on her back for a long while, watching the patterns of the stars, riding the sea's swells back toward the distant shoreline. The Star lay at anchor in the small bay off Tol Meneltarma. As she drew near the ship, she flipped over and swam lazily toward it.

It was late when she climbed aboard, and she thought to go to her bed. But there was Angara, waiting.



[ November 08, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ November 09, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Old 11-08-2002, 12:27 AM   #381
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Sting

In the dusk, Phura returned to to the water's edge. Azraph never left his side, holding his hand, and Gamba tagged along, hesitantly at first, but Azraph beckoned him, and he drew close then. The three sat by the water's edge, wit the five children wandering nearby, or playing at the water's edge.

Phura was very, very quiet. Azraph's hand in his was a great comfort; she had not left his side, except to sleep or by necessity, since he had been ill. But he wondered how long that would last. He knew that Ancalimon's words held a strong promise for him. He knew that it was a matter, not of preference for him, but of destiny and duty; he could not have explained it, yet, any better than that. He knew that Loremaster shared his longing for the sea, and that Gamba did not. And he had a sinking feeling that Azraph's father shared none of his love for the sea, none of his desire for the Abyss.

If only, if only twelve more years had passed; if only he had come of age, and could claim Azraph as his own! Then she could come with him, and not be bound by her father's preferences, fears, or desires. Not even his guidance.

Phura bitterly rued his youth. What did it matter, he grieved, if he had the respect of the entire community-- but lost the girl he desired more than anything? He could not bring himself to meet her gaze because he feared he would weep. He clung to her hand, and looked out at the water.

He looked briefly at Gamba, and looked away. After his loss of Esta, Gamba was now so terribly alone. And Phura feared that he saw his own future in that.

Gamba gazed out at the water, where Cami had pointed earier in the day, where Esta was buried far, far below.

Thnking about the poem that had haunted him for so long, he imagined taking his beating heart in his hand, like a living, pulsing stone, and throwing it far out into the water. He imagined that it splashed, and sank, down and down, sinking deep into the dark Abyss, and came to rest, still beating, over her grave. Softly he began to sing. Phura and Azraph listened, Phura humming softly, but letting Gamba sing the words alone.

Hearing the lullaby, the children instinctively clustered around them, little Maura climbing into Gamba's arms. Gamba held Maura tightly to his chest as he sang.

Beneath the stars, beneath the earth,
Your lovely form lies sleeping;
Your face so sweet, your limbs so fair,
Your heart, where mine is beating.
Your brow I kiss, your hands I hold
While deep in dreams you slumber;
And as you rest so still and cold
My tears fall without number.

No star so fair, no breeze so sweet,
No sunbeam shines as warmly
As your soft gaze that once on me
Shone gently, purely, fondly.
Your eyes are closed, your breath at peace,
Your lovely face unmoving,
Still here for you my heart yet weeps,
Your deep love for me proving.


Phura put his free hand on his brother's shoulder, and together Phura, Azraph, and Gamba quietly sang several more lullabys for Esta. The waves softly caressed the shoreline, and the children all fell asleep. Gamba lay down among them, and slowly he fell asleep as well.

Phura turned to Azraph, bid her goodnight and kissed her hand, and she rose, and returned to her family. He watched her walk away til she was out of sight. Then he lay down beside his family, huddled close to them for warmth, and wept til he fell asleep.

[ November 09, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ November 09, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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Old 11-08-2002, 12:31 AM   #382
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That morning, as the sun peered over the horizon, Cami awoke and walked quietly towards the forest grove. Then, on some impulse born of a need to see beyond the little spot where she was rooted, she turned to the slopes of the mountain and began to climb upward. She had no thought whatsoever of trying to reach the rugged crater at the top. It was too far away. But she scrambled and clawed her way up the steep hillside, trying to struggle beyond the foothills to a ledge where, free of underbrush, she could gaze outward.

For almost two hours, she grappled with the thick carpet of bushes and tangled vines as well as scattered rocks and cliff overhangs that sometimes compelled her to drop to her knees and clamber slowly forward. Groves of trees, at first abundant, grew sparse and infrequent as Cami pushed on. Finally, she pulled herself onto a solitary ledge which bulged out like a stone lip over the mouth of the hill. There was no way she could go higher without ropes or a companion for safety. This would have to do.

There was just enough room for her to stand and wrap her hands tightly around a tree root that jutted out like a safety line from between two boulders. Cautiously, she pushed her body to the very edge of the cliff, and looked down. From here she could make out a good portion of the isle, its beaches and forests and intermittant meadows. Beyond lay the sea with its rolling waves that slid softly onto the pure white sands.

Ancalimon would soon call the hobbits together and speak of the choice they all must make. Some must go one way, and some another, if the prophecies were to be fulfilled. Yet, Cami thought, how hard this was when they had so recently fought their way out of the tombs. Man and wife would surely choose to stand as one, and the children would respect the choice of their elders. But how many brothers, sisters, and cousins might find themselves on opposite sides? How many parents would weep to see grown children and their little ones step over the line, with a choice different than their own?

If a hobbit loved the Sea, and wished to explore its watery depths, then the isle could be a magic portal to the wonder and mystery of the Abyss. Yet, for most hobbits who loved the soil and growing things, a quiet forest glade, or even a life of wandering along untrodden paths, this tiny island would not be paradise. Instead, it could be more like a golden prison, with the sea pushed tightly against the shore.

With regret, Cami acknowledged where her own loyalties lay. Yet a piece of her still wondered whether it might be easier to slip under the spell of Meneltarma and all the lore that would be hidden here. The island would be protected even from the sight of Men, with no fear of intrusion or attack. There would be abundant foodstuffs and sheltering coves. And from the words of Andreth's journal, Cami knew that generations of hobbrim still unborn would carry out some distant, mysterious task that the lyrical strains of the Music had suggested.

Going to the Anduin would be very different. Cami knew there would be immediate struggle and danger, with much of her beloved lore hidden from sight. But unless the hobbits managed to survive and flourish, there would be no Shire or Ringbearer, and things might have a different end.

What would Maura do if faced with this dilemma? The question came jolting into her conscousness out of nowhere, with the answer following instantly behind. Maura would raise one question, only one; she was sure of that. Where am I needed the most? That is all he would want to know.

Cami sighed. The answer to that seemed clear. Those hobbits who loved learning, the healers and dreamers, poets and seers, would make Meneltarma their home. Few, if any, would travel to the Third Age.
Yet, there was real need in the Anduin for someone who had even a tiny speck of book learning and lore that could be passed on to other hobbits. As strange as it sounded to Cami, Ancalimon seemed to be hinting that she and Rose must undertake this job of teaching and healing, remembering and reciting, and helping the young ones learn decency and respect. It would be a small foothold in a dangerous place and time, Cami reflected, but at least it was somewhere to start.

[ November 10, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]
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Old 11-08-2002, 04:47 PM   #383
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When Gamba, Azraph and Phura had come down from the pine tree, they mingled among the other hobbits on the forest floor. Kesha, Asta and Roka were romping about with Tuka's smallest siblings, and Gamba watched them absentmindedly.

Meanwhile Maura and Ban scurried past Rose, who gingerly knelt and put her arms around Ban.

Maura looked up, and reached for Cami, who bent down and gathered him into her arms with a smile of delight, gazing into the little eyes that were so fond of birdies and dragons and tasty-looking field mice. She laughed, and Maura laughed back.

An icy voice cut into their laughter. "They're mine!" Gamba snapped at Nitir and Azra. "They came to me and they belong with me! And I won't have them separated!"

Rose's jaw dropped. Gamba was facing Cami in a fury, fists clenched by his sides, face crimson, eyes ablaze. The surrounding chatter fell silent.

Cami, shocked, stood perfectly still for several seconds, and then very, very softly replied, "Gamba, I would not dream of separating you from your boys." Softly, she stepped towards him, and slowly held Maura out towards him.

Accepting Cami's surrender, Gamba glared at Rose. Rose, wide-eyed, opened her arms, and Gamba sternly called Ban, who came. Then Gamba took Maura from Cami, and turned away. Ban followed at his heels, questioning him softly and looking back at Rose, while Gamba held Maura tightly to his chest.

Once he was at a safe distance, he turned, and glared savagely at them both.

Tuka's voice spoke at his side. "Being a bit rough on them, aren't you?"

Gamba turned a disbelieving stare on his estranged old friend, who met his eyes apologetically. "Most parents appreciate nice babysitters. Nitir and Azra are good, nice ladies, even if they are legends. Why are you so upset?"

Lips tightening, Gamba glared at Tuka and only held Maura tighter.

Tuka reached for his shoulder. "And I'm sorry, " he added. "I've-- I shouldn't have blamed you about Esta." He sighed, and looked at the ground. "Lots of people have died, and I'm acting like I lost more than anybody else. I'm sorry."

At that Gamba softened, and nodded, biting back tears yet again. Tuka clapped his shoulder and turned away, and as he did, Gamba's tears threatened to get the better of him, and he bent over little Maura and fought them hard.

Roka and Asta had come over, concerned. Beyond them, Gamba saw a lady's feet slowly approaching, Ban looked up and smiled; Gamba recognized the hem of Cami's dress. Defensively, he held Maura tighter, but she did not reach for the toddler.

Instead, she wrapped one arm around Gamba. With the other arm, she steered Roka, Asta, and Ban closer to Gamba. Gamba sat crosslegged, folding up, and they all climbed onto his lap. And then Cami knelt beside them all, with her arms wrapped around Gamba.

Clutching Maura tighter, he buried his head against her shoulder.

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Old 11-08-2002, 04:49 PM   #384
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Leaning upon his staff, the Grey Pilgrim strode across the sands, as hobbit families disembarked from ships and followed him towards a grassy nook under the shadow of Eru's Mount. Here, they waited quietly, with faces solemn and hearts pounding, curious and hopeful that their families would find joy in the deep matters soon to be discussed. A hundred stories had circulated on shipboard over the past day, each stranger and more unbelievable than the last. Yet no one had guessed what was actually to occur, and those few who knew the prophecies kept the secrets well hidden.

Ancalimon asked Loremaster and Andril to be seated on one side, and told Cami and Rose to go to the other. Then he stood, and looked about the grove. Around him were hundreds and hundreds of hobbits--Stoors, Fallohides, and Harfoot, some healthy and robust while others bore the scars of their rescue and imprisonment. All looked toward Ancalimon with hopeful, expectent eyes.

The Grey Peddler began by telling them how the great Siril had run from within the tombs of Numenor to the very shores of Amon, carrying with it the grief and tears of the hobbits. The King of the Sea had hearkened to their cries and promised to come to them in two days' time. For Ulmo would take on the rainment of the World, so that Elves and mortals alike could hear his deep voice and marvel at his majesty. The hobbits should not be afraid to stand in his presence, but greet him with respect and joy.

Then, Ancalimon related how Ulmo would descend to Meneltarma, with sceptre clasped in hand and a single task in mind. His mission was not to alter the foundations of life which had been set in the beginning, but to reveal more fully those desires and longings already hidden in hobbit hearts. Two choices would be given for those who gathered on that day, both good and worthy paths but leading to different ends. Ulmo would ask each family to stand forth and choose the way of the Sea or the way of the land. Those who loved the Sea would be given a home in its waters, while those who loved the land would be taken to a fair place at Ulmo's command.

Several of the hobbits were frightened at these words and called to Ancalimon, "How can we do this? We are small and have never lived in the waters of the ocean."

Then Ancalimon patiently explained, "If you choose the Sea, your bodies will transform like those of your hobbrim cousins. But your hearts, your will, and your intellect will be just as they were when Eru breathed life into you. You and your kin will dwell on Meneltarma, free to explore the mystery of the Abyss, and to delve into many secrets. For Ulmo will conceal the island with a mysterious veil, and set a great guardian above the Mount to defend it through all time."

"You will stay, safe and secure, guarding the hidden books of history and lore, and making songs and poems of great beauty. But never will any others be permitted to come to your shores, and never will you be allowed to leave. For, if you break your oath, the fate of Numenor will fall upon your heads, and the great wave will crush you forever. But you and your people must remain loyal and not go astray. For, if you hold true, the hobbrim will play a role in that distant age when the final battle for Arda is begun." But, about this, Ancalimon would say no more.

When some of the group heard about their chance to make a home in the Sea, their eyes glowed, and they knew the choice they would make. But, for many, it was not easy. Some were afraid to have their bodies change, while others truly loved the rolling hills or the trees, and could not bear to be separated from these. These hobbits cried out and asked Ancalimon to speak more fully about what awaited those who chose the land.

With great care and love, Ancalimon described Middle-earth, its rivers and forests and grassy plains, and how many wonderful things could be grown there. He talked about the free peoples who would share these lands, Ents and Elves, Dwarves and Men, each with their own customs and speech. He warned the hobbits their path might prove hard. Struggles and danger could follow them, but they would be free to wander wherever they desired, with no limitations or bounds. They too would have an important task to do, one even closer in time, but first they must learn to live in harmony with the earth and search for a place of their own to call home.

Then, Gamba stepped up and asked in a quiet voice, "Those hobbits who choose the land, may they come back to visit their brethren in the Sea?"

Gandalf shook his head sadly. "No, that can not be. There are no reunions within Arda itself, but only in the circles beyond."

Gamba said nothing but his eyes mirrored great sorrow. Many other hobbits whispered to one another about what this might mean for their families.

Then Ancalimon told the hobbits that, over the next few days, they must think and decide what to do. For, when Ulmo came, he would ask each family or individual to step forward and state their choice and their reason for choosing. Soon afterwards, all would depart: the hobbrim with Ulmo to learn the ways of the Sea; the land hobbits with Ancalimon himself, since he too would be sailing to the shores of Middle-earth where he promised to keep a friendly eye on them.

Just before leaving, Ancalimon added, "You are welcome to speak with me, or with Andril and Loremaster, or Nitir and Azra, if you would like to talk on these matters further." Then the Grey Pilgrim walked back to the ship, with several hobbits already staying close by his side and asking many questions.

Family by family, the hobbits left the grove to wander on their own throughout the island, some walking among the trees or meadows, others sitting and staring out to sea and wondering what to do. A few came up to Cami and Rose, and a few more to Loremaster and Andril, asking questions or seeking advice in trying to reach their decision. Yet, always, they were told to listen and trust the small voice within their hearts to help them decide which path would be truly theirs.

[ November 11, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]
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Old 11-09-2002, 08:22 AM   #385
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Sting

Gamba picked up Maura and called Asta, Roka, and Ban, and wandered back under the trees, head bowed, Maura held tightly to his chest. Maura waved a free arm, pointing at the sky, the leaves, the birds, chirruping and prattling.

Phura watched him go, heart sinking, and wrapped his free arm around Kesha. And then he felt Azraph's entwined fingers tighten around his, and he looked at the ground.

"You'll become a hobbrim, won't you." It was a statement.

Phura nodded at the ground, miserably, and then met her eyes. "And Gamba... Gamba loves the trees, and not the water. He'll go to the hobbit settlements." Tears escaped him. "And... and... " He couldn't bring himself to ask, or to say anything about Azraph's father.

"I don't know, " she said, drawing closer. "I hope we will go to the Abyss. I want to be with you, Phura."

He drank her gaze, and kissed her hand, even as he knew that it was not her choice, and could not be.

Suddenly he gave her hand several kisses, whispered "Wait here", and stood, turned on his heel and headed for Azraph's father.

"Well, Lad, " Azraph's father greeted him with strained heartiness, "It looks like your song is about to come true after all."

"Yes, sir, " Phura replied. "Yes, it is."

"The Abyss."

"Yes."

"Well, good luck to you."

Phura stood his ground. "You could come too, sir."

Azraph's father snorted. "I'm no fish."

"Neither am I, sir; I'm a hobbit. But the Abyss is a beautiful place. You can't imagine it til you've seen it."

"Is that so."

"Yes, sir. The different sizes of fish, the light, the color of the water. The music that the water makes. It's the most beautiful thing I've-- that is-- it's the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Is that right."

"You could come, too, sir. You could join Loremaster and I. And Kali, and Andril, and the others."

Azraph's father sighed. "I know it's hard, son. I've said I'm not a fish. There'll be many partings during this choosing. I've got my family to think of."

Phura felt his hopes slipping away, and he fought and struggled against despair. "Sir, she--"

"Eh?"

"She--"

"Well, out with it."

He swallowed hard. "Azraph... told me that she wants to come with me."

Azraph's father considered that. "Is that so." Then his eyes narrowed, and he nodded slowly. "Is that so." He turned away.

Phura began to follow him but he turned, and his eyes were blazing. "You're a boy. You might wear a Loremaster's robe and know all the songs, but you're twenty-one years old, and don't think I've forgotten that either." His pointed finger came up, and he jabbed it at Phura. "Deciding her future is not your place. Do you hear? Not your place! Her welfare is my concern! Not yours!"

They stared at each other, and slowly Azraph's father calmed partway down. "Have I made myself clear?"

Phura's blood ran cold. "Yes, sir."

Azraph's father turned and stalked away. Phura slowly returned to Azraph, and she studied his face, and said nothing, but stood. He took both of her hands and kissed them, and then led her toward the water, and they sat together on the bank. But now Phura's gaze was on Azraph, and not the water.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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Old 11-10-2002, 04:18 AM   #386
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Sting

Pio sat on a low, rocky promontory looking eastward over the sea. She supposed that was now where life would carry her after the ships had taken the Hobbits to their destination along the Anduin. It was an interestingly uncomfortable feeling that accompanied these musings. Her mind turned it over and over, attempting some resolve.

She had been independent and a wanderer all her adult years. Now she faced the prospect of a more settled life with one person and the family they would soon share. Her other companions would not be there with her. Cami, Rose, and Daisy were soon to be left behind in other places and other times. Veritas and Khelek had requested she speak with Idril and the Teleri about taking them to Aman when the Elven ships departed.

Bird, whose wanderlust had always matched her own, would soon be off to seek new ventures. Her promises of visits to Lond Lefnui came from her generous heart, and Pio knew Bird would see them frequently for a while, then less and less as new places called her. She was already missing her.

And then, there was Angara, and her announcement to Pio the night of the memorial. She had mixed feelings about leaving her new surrogate family, the Hobbrim. She had decided that somehow she would stay with them, and was seeking a way to do so. ‘Perhaps I should think about staying here, too.’ Pio thought to herself. ‘It would be a place I could be of some use.’ But there was Mithadan to consider, and she could not see him content to stay.

She picked up a number of large pebbles from the scree beside her and stood up, her mind shaking off the spiral of bleak thoughts. She walked to the very lip of the promontory. One after the other, she drew her arm back and threw each stone in a long high arc out over the water below, watching them descend swiftly and splash down to disappear beneath the surf.

The last one had just hit the water’s surface when she heard the shuffling of feet and a familiar voice behind her. She turned, a questioning look on her face. It was Daisy. The young girl’s face mirrored the same feelings as her own just short minutes ago. Pio sat back down on the rocky surface, inviting the hobbit to do the same. She pulled her close, her arm round the girl’s shoulders, and bid her speak her mind.

Daisy had been at the gathering when Ancalimon spoke of The Choosing. Now she was torn about what she would do. She dearly loved Cami and Rose, and part of her wanted to go with them, back to the familiarity of Middle-earth. Her arms went round Pio’s waist, hugging her fiercely, and she buried her head against the Elf’s shoulder. ‘I do not want to leave you either.’ she said sniffling quietly. Pio put the fingers of one hand beneath the young girl’s chin and turned her face up to hers.

‘And . . . ?!’ she prompted, knowing there was something closer to Daisy’s heart that she had not yet revealed.

‘Kali,’ came Daisy’s soft reply, ‘I cannot imagine a life without him in it.’

Pio smiled at this, and held the girl’s gaze. ‘You would like me to give you some Elven wisdom on this, to take away the burden of it, to make the choice for you. I see this hope spring even now into your face. I cannot. This must be your decision alone. Something which will fit your sense of who you are and who you might become if given the opportunity.’ Daisy frowned at these words, not hearing the easy answer that she wanted.

‘I do know this, little one.’ continued the Elf. ‘Love you, as all of us do, you cannot make your decision based on that. Should you do that, you will at some time be trapped by that love and it will not be enough to see you through. This choosing must be solely from you and for you. A gift, if you will, for yourself alone.’

Pio stood up and helped Daisy to her feet. She picked up two hands full of rocks, giving one of them to the Hobbit. ‘Here.’ she said, ‘Consider each of these a reason for choosing a certain path. Think calmly on each then throw it as hard and far as you can. Let them be a focus for your thoughts and feelings.

It took a long time to throw all the stones. Some sailed far out over the blue waters and some flew only a short distance to land on the hillside and go skittering down the slope. They spoke little, and when Daisy shared her thoughts on one choice or another, Pio gently turned the questions back upon her, letting her confirm for herself, the conclusions she had come to.

They were down to their last two rocks. Pio sailed hers hers high and hard out to the waiting waves, watching it fall from its course to plummet into the water. She brushed the dirt off her hands, using the legs of her breeches, and stood hands on hips, waiting for Daisy to cast hers toward the far horizon. ‘Your turn.’ she said to the girl. Daisy stood rooted to the ground, her stone clenched tightly in her hand. Laughter bubbled from her as she turned toward Pio.

‘I do not need to throw this one!’ She took Pio’s right hand and placed the stone in the center of her palm, closing the Elf’s fingers over it. ‘I have made my choice.’

Pio kissed her forehead, and hugged her. She watched as the Hobbit ran down toward the center of the island, looking for Kali and for the others, to share what she had decided. The Elf picked up her discarded cloak and shaking the dust from it, threw it round her shoulders. She headed back to the Star to find food and company.
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Old 11-11-2002, 03:50 AM   #387
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Sting

The Dragon paced on the deck of the Star, her tail twitching with each step. She had listened to Ancalimon speak to the Hobbits of the nearing arrival of Ulmo, and the Choosing which would then take place. All of the Hobbits and many of the Hobbrim were now preoccupied with who might choose to become Hobbrim and who might stay Hobbit. Tension ran high, as friends and family found they each had their individual preferences which might sunder them forever from one another.

Angara snorted, a wisp of smoke escaping her snout. ‘ And, I suppose he’ll make another one of his grand entrances in a cresting wave of water and spume, and then go thee-ing and thou-ing all over the place to impress the Hobbits and Hobbrim!’ She shook her head and clacked her sharp teeth together in irritation. ‘Hmmmph! You would never catch a Dragon being so pompous!’ Her tail waved dangerously as she stood there thinking. ‘He’d better not frighten my little ones,’ she murmured in a rumbling voice. ‘I’ll send him and his overblown phrasings packing back to the rest of the high and mighty Valar if he does!’

A sudden, sharp laugh from behind caused her to twirl menacingly toward the offending sound. It was Ancalimon, his face red with barely suppressed mirth. He turned away from her, thinking to walk a way for a bit to get his laughter under control.

She reached out a claw and pinned the hem of his robe to the ship’s deck. He stopped short, his shoulders heaving, then turned, wiping the tears from his eyes. ‘Perfect!’ he gasped, collapsing on the deck in laughter.

Angara stood over him, gold eyes twirling in irritation. ‘Perfect is a given, if you are referring to me,’ she intoned, ‘but what I want to know is what you were referring to, and why were you laughing?’

Ancalimon sat up, and took a deep breath, regaining a semblance of composure. He looked at the Dragon and considered his words carefully. ‘I have come to ask a favor of you, Old One.’ he said. ‘I had feared you might not hear me out or that I might have not thought clearly enough about this in regards to you.’

‘Could you be more elliptic in your approach?’ she said, arching her plated brows at him. ‘You have rightly named me Old One, and I grow older by the moment as you eke out your answer.’ Her claws tapped ominously on the wooden deck.

‘Then let me speak plainly, Dragon.’ returned Ancalimon, holding her gaze. ‘Once the Choosing is done, and the Hobbrim left here to live and grow as a people, I would like you to take the position as their Defender. I doubt that many, if any, of other races will find their way to this isle, but I would not have the peaceful existence of the Hobbrim disturbed for any reason. Their survival will be critical to the survival of what we now call Middle-earth, and what will have many other names in other times, other Ages. Will you do this for them and for us?’

Angara’s heart leapt within her at the prospect of this task set before her. Yet still she played the coy Wyrm, as she was wont to do. ‘You say I shall have the position of Defender?! Now just how far shall my discretionary powers extend with regards to this responsibility?’ She inched closer to the seated man, awaiting his answer. He could tell she was hooked on the idea, and he drew her in expertly, letting her all the while think she had the upper hand.

They talked for a long while, chewing thoughtfully over the ideas of each, until, finally, she had a set of guidelines she felt appropriate to her and he felt the best interests of the Hobbrim would be served. Tomorrow, they would both meet with the leaders of the Hobbrim families and present this plan to them. Both wanted to avoid the appearance of taking any rights of decision-making away from them.

Ancalimon watched as Angara turned and strode off to tell Pio what she had accomplished. He saw her almost skip with pleasure as she considered this proposal of his. He chuckled at the measures she took to hide her eagerness to do it. ‘What an irascible, soft hearted Old Wyrm!’ he said to himself quietly, smiling.

‘I heard that!’ she said, pausing in mid stride and turning her head to look at him. She smiled a toothsome smile. ‘And thank you!’

[ November 12, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Old 11-11-2002, 02:54 PM   #388
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Sting

That afternoon, Rose and Cami had returned to the Star to begin gathering up their belongings. As they started to sift through the piles scattered about on the shelves and table, Cami found she was picking up things and putting them down again, stopping every few moments to reflect and recall as she poured intently over each item. Every little souvernir brought gentle smiles and memories, as she and Rose drew out the story again, recalling the little things along the way that had brought great hardship and small victories. Most of all there was the pull of the people that lay behind these treasures. It was becoming harder to tug away.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing, going back with the hobbits?" Rose's voice hesitated, as her finger traced over the outline of the great conch shell she'd found on the beach when they'd first found Kali. "We could stay here on the Star, with Mithadan and Pio."

"Yes, we could," Cami murmurred. "Or you could, if you feel that's best. I've thought a long time about this, and I want to go back to live with other hobbits. I've been away so long, too long." Cami's mind ranged over her years in Minas Anor when she'd helped care for the children of the big folk. Good, decent people, but she had missed so many things, things that other hobbits took for granted. "I feel I've come a long way, and I can't stop now. Plus nothing would be the same. Kali and Daisy will be gone, and I expect Bird as well."

Rose looked over at her friend who was staring out the small porthole seemingly lost in reflection, and interrupted with a question of her own, "Do you think things will sort out alright for the hobbits?" Rose's voice held sure and steady, but behind her words lay another hidden question. Will this be the right thing for me, for us, if we sail to the Anduin?

Cami thought a long time before she responded. "Yes, I believe so. I really do. I keep remembering Lilly and Pongo and Esta and all the others who didn't make it. There has to be some meaning to that, something we can do to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"The hobbrim on Meneltarma will be safe. They'll just need patience and loyalty to endure for so long."

Rose nervously interrupted. "But what about the Anduin? What will that be like?"

"That's different," Cami laughed. "We'll have to be tough and crafty to live in a land where most folk are so much bigger. But our people have survived under worse conditions than the Anduin. I don't think we should be afraid to go because we're afraid what might happen."

"And, Rose," she looked the girl straight in the eye, "you and I do have an advantage. We know it can be done. Even if some of our memories slip away, we'll still have that certainty underneath. All the hobbits are going to need some of that pig-headed stubborness."

Rose turned her face up and grinned, "That sounds like me! I've got plenty of stubborness!"

"You certainly do!," Cami poked Rose in the ribs and began tickling her.

A few minutes later they were both sitting and laughing, their spirits pulled higher than they'd been before. Then the girl asked a question that had been bothering her for a while, "Cami, what will happen to Gamba and the boys? And to Azraph and Phura? I really like them. Are they staying here or coming with us?"

"I don't know. We'll have to see. But, Rose, would you like that? If they did come, I mean?"

Rose responded instantly, "Well, if you need pig-headed people, then Gamba should be perfect. That is, once his heart stops hurting so much. And also that little one, the toddler Maura, who kept running after Bird."

Cami smiled, "I expect you're right. But, for now, we'll have to wait and be patient. Rose, there's one more thing. I should have said this before, but my mind was on the rescue, and I was sorting out other things in my head."

Cami reached over and took Rose's hand, "I know there's going to be a lot of hard work to do. Healing and teaching and passing on what little book lore we have, not to mention surviving. The clans will probably split up and go in a dozen different directions. We'll need to try and train others to help us so that each group will have someone who can heal and teach, even if it's on a very basic level."

"But, Rose, it's your help I need the most. Whatever I know, I need to pass it on to you. And I'd like to start now. Will you come when Andril and I visit the sick hobbits on the ships, so you can begin learning some of these things? I can see how much you've grown since we left Minas Anor. I'm proud of you. And I'd like you to start helping with this."

Rose flashed a warm smile, and hugged Cami, "Yes, yes, yes! she chanted. "I'll do the best, the very best I can." Then she turned quickly about and ran to find Daisy so she could share this latest news with her.

[ November 13, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]
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Old 11-11-2002, 03:01 PM   #389
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Sting

Phura and Azraph sat overlooking the water, left hand in left, right hand in right, fingers intertwined. They had spoken haltingly of the past, reviewing all that had happened, unwilling to look forward anymore.

Azraph's sister Nitir approached them hesitantly. Azraph looked up at her.

Apologetically, she related her message. "Father says you are to be with the family from now on."

Phura's jaw dropped, and he struggled. "Why?" Azraph replied in disbelief.

Nitir shrugged. "He's been very cross all day."

Phura thought his heart would break. He turned Azraph's hands palm upwards, and buried his face in both her hands, and stayed that way for several moments. Then his face came up, eyes brimming. "You'd better go, " he choked. "Good night." And he stood with her, and kissed her hands again. She gently took his face in her hands, gazing into his eyes; and then she wordlessly turned, and followed her sister to her family, casting many discreet backwards glances. Phura watched her til she was out of sight.

Gamba joined him. "What happened?"

The story spilled out, and Gamba threw his arm around his brother's shoulder, and shared his misery for a while. Then he spoke.

"I can come with you."

Phura looked at him. "Gamba." He smiled, and thought his heart would burst.

"I can. I can become a Hobbrim too."

Phura smiled sadly, loving his brother more than ever and knowing that the water wasn't where he belonged.

"I don't want you to be alone."

Phura smiled bravely. "I'll have Loremaster, and Kali, and Andril and all of Kali's cousins. I won't be alone."

Gamba gave him a wry look. "Kali's a good sort. So are lots of his cousins. But you'd miss me."

Phura couldn't argue with that. "Terribly."

"All right then."

Phura looked down. "And the trees? And the elves? And the wind in the branches?"

Gamba shrugged. "I'll have you. Like always."

Phura threw his arm around Gamba's shoulder, now, and shook his head. "You need to know where you belong, and be true to that. No matter how much I'll miss you."

Gamba looked unconvinced.

"I know you would do it, " Phura said. "You'd come with me. But you need to go where you are supposed to go."

"You make it sound like destiny, or something, " Gamba grumbled.

Phura sighed, and nodded. "I suppose it does sound like that."

They listened to the waves on the shore for a while, and Phura, completely exhausted from the day, nodded off several times. Finally he lay down and snored. Gamba got up and went to find Loremaster.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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Old 11-12-2002, 11:24 AM   #390
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Sting

The morning sun filtered through the porthole of the cabin, waking Mithadan. He rose quietly and, after rearranging the covers over Piosenniel, dressed and proceeded to the galley. After a quick breakfast, he climbed to the deck and stood by the rail looking out at Tol Meneltarma. Soon, a familiar wave would rise from the sea and Ulmo would come to speak with the Halflings about choices. Then the Lonely Star would leave this island behind forever and would pass back into the East to complete its voyage. And then...what?

He turned at the sound of a footstep behind him. Piosenniel joined him at the rail, for once well rested and well fed. The slightest hint of a bulge in her stomach heralded the new life growing there.

"It is beautiful is it not?" said the Elf quietly as she gestured to the island. "Idril is correct. It seems like a bit of Tol Eressea has come to the East to serve as a garden for the Hobbrim. Would that I could dwell here as well."

Mithadan looked long upon the peak of what had been a mighty mountain. "It is lovely," he answered. "But it is not our place. Nor could it be a home for our children without companions of their own kind. Our place lies elsewhere."

She turned to him with brows slightly furrowed. "But where is our place?" she asked. "Where shall our home be? This has troubled me, for though Gondor is fair, I would not be a housewife there until the end of my days. My heart will ever yearn to roam, but we must give some thought to our children as well."

He smiled and, reaching out, wiped the lines from her brows. "That is well," he said. "For you have cleaved to a mariner and like you I am doomed to wander as well. We shall go to Lond Lefnui to see my brothers and their families for they would wish to meet you and celebrate our happiness. Then perhaps to Minas Anor to report to the King. But then, we shall go where you wish for the birth of our children, whether it be Imladris, Lindon or perhaps even Ithilien where many Elves now dwell. That choice shall be yours, save that I would not wish to leave the sea behind forever."

He placed an arm on her shoulder and the two watched the seabirds wheel and frolic over the nearby shore.
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Old 11-12-2002, 04:24 PM   #391
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Sting

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 ]
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Old 11-12-2002, 04:35 PM   #392
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Angara could not find Pio when she had gone to look for her.

Alone, she had savored the fruit of her talk with Ancalimon, all that day and well into the night, tasting the sweetness of it. She shivered with the joy of it, the anticipation. All these long years she had mourned her children, and now she was to have them back. To watch them grow in strength and wisdom and delight; to take their rightful place in the song of creation.

Never mind that they were no longer robed in dragon forms. She would nurture them, keeping them safe from all harm save that which is necessary to the natural growth of any creature. And in turn, in their own way, they would nurture her, and make her whole again.

It was early morning as she watched from her place, high on the crossbeam of the mast, as Mithadan and Pio stood at the Star’s rail taking in the day’s first flight of the birds. The Elf leaned against him lightly, his arm drawing her in against his shoulder in a gesture of affection and support. ‘Perhaps I had misjudged him earlier.’ she thought to herself.

Her eyes took in how Pio spoke to him gently and he murmured back, smiling. His hand strayed to the gentle swell of the Elf’s belly, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge of his son and daughter, and he laughed, in carefree delight. The dragon nodded at this picture of these two who were dear to her heart. Days of quiet ease had erased the careworn lines from both their faces, and smiles came more readily to their lips now.

‘They will be alright. Their children will grow healthy and whole and filled with all the grace I see now shine forth from their parents.’ She gasped at the surety of this knowledge, a single tear of joy and of regret ran down her scaled cheek, that it would be so, and that she would not be there to see it.

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

Later that day, Pio sat by herself on the deck of the Star. Most of the crew, including Mithadan had gone ashore for the day. She sat with her back against the pillar that held the wheel,barefooted, legs stretched out. Her breeches were rolled above her knees and she wore a light sleeveless vest, allowing the warm rays of the noon time sun to warm her limbs.

Her head lolled back against the pillar, eyes closed against the bright sunlight. She was just passing into some pleasant reverie when an insistent voice near her ear spoke loudly, waking her abruptly from her doze.

‘You probably should not be out here for so long. You might burn.’

Pio shaded her eyes with her hand and opened the eye nearest the source of the voice. ‘What in the sundering Seas are you talking about Angara? I have only been sitting here a short while. And to be honest, I cannot recall ever having “burnt” myself.’ She opened both eyes and looked squarely at the Dragon. ‘Do you not have some small ones you can be herding about or entertaining? Let me get back to my day dreams.’ Pio settled back against the pillar once more and closed her eyes.

A gentle nudge on the arm from the Dragon’s snout brought her back to the surface of her dreams once again. ‘They have all gone ashore with their friends and families.’ came the voice once again. And besides, it is you I really wished to speak with.’ Angara came close and laid her head on the Pio’s thigh, her cheek nestled against the Elf’s belly.

Pio sighed and sat up straighter, her eyes wide open and focused on the Dragon. She yawned widely. ‘You have my full attention now.’ Her right hand drifted toward Angara’s head and she scratched at the bony plate between the Dragon’s eyebrows absentmindedly.

The Wyrm settled in comfortably and began the story of her talk with Ancalimon. Pio smiled at the description of the negotiations, knowing full well that it was Ancalimon who had maneuvered Angara into the set of terms she had agreed to. The Elf’s mind drifted lazily as the Dragon’s voice droned on. Her head snapped back to attention when Angara told of how Ulmo would honor her at the Choosing, and name her the Protector of Tol Meneltarma.

‘That is truly wonderful for you, my Old Friend. Exactly what you wished for, is it not? Though, I will sorely miss you when we leave.’ Pio moved her legs a little, and readjusted the weight of Angara’s head on them. The Dragon seemed to have finished her story, and lay with eyes closed against the Elf.

The thick warm air was just pulling Pio under once again to pleasant dreamings, when the voice of the Dragon stole softly into her consciousness. ‘I can hear them, you know. The twins.’ Pio looked at her, perplexed.

‘Not words, just patterns of lights in changing intensities. Delightful patterns. Playful.’

Pio smiled then, and said, “Shhh! Let’s sleep now. Soon all will be back on board, and they are sure to awaken us.’ She pulled her legs from beneath the dozing Dragon’s head and lay down beside her, head resting on one of Angara’s extended forearms. Soon, they were both of them asleep.

[ November 13, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Old 11-13-2002, 01:35 AM   #393
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Sting

That evening the Star welcomed visitors aboard. Azraph and Phura along with Gamba and the boys had sailed over with Rose on one of the smaller skiffs to take a look at the ship that Cami always seemed to be discussing with such pride. The meal itself was delightful, with great piles of mushroom stew, a fresh and welcome import from Meneltarma.

But conversation had been slow. Gamba kept gazing through the porthole to the Sea beyond, with eyes distracted and confused. He'd said little during the meal, and Cami noticed that, several times, Phura had stared at him, with a face filled with worry and concern. The older brother struggled to be polite, but he seemed equally distracted. Cami was begining to wonder if she'd made a mistake in insisting the two of them this evening. She thought it might provide a bit of a break from everyone's worries about the Choosing. It didn't seem to be working.

After dinner, the little ones and Rose had run off to play with the hobbrim children who were going down to feed the sea-cows. Azraph and Phura had excused themselves to walk on deck together and have a good look at the stars overhead. Cami stayed behind in the galley, clattering about with the dinner dishes and a sink full of sudsy water. Seeing Gamba still sitting morosely in the corner, she quickly sailed a tea cloth over in his direction, "Here, this is for you. Get busy. I have a pile of dishes that need to be dried."

The boy distractedly stood up and began picking up the plates, one by one, to dry them. Then seemingly out of nowhere, he blurted out, "Do you like it here?"

"Here? Here, on the Star?"

"No," he shook his head, frustrated at her lack of understanding, "I mean here in the Sea. "Do you like the Sea?"

She reflected a moment before she replied, "I've never thought of it like that. The Sea is beautiful, but I don't see it as my home. My home is the ship, at least for right now. To me, it's a little floating island where I feel safe and secure. To be truthful, of all the folk on the Star, I probably have the least natural love for the depths of the ocean."

"Then you're not staying here?" He looked at her with a puzzled expression. "But the lore is going to be here. That's what Phura says. All the poetry and history and songs."

"Yes, I expect he's right. Or at least most of it. And I'll miss that. But most of the hobbits won't be here. Most hobbits love the land, and they'll be going to the Anduin. So I'm going too."

"Anyways," she added, "there's a lot of scenery I'm hoping to get a look at after we sail. A lot of people and places..." Her voice trailed off.

"What sort of people and places?'

She looked over at him with a conspiratorial look on her face, "Can you keep a secret?'

Gamba nodded his agreement, and waited for Cami to continue.

"I want to settle somewhere in the north. Maybe even wander for a bit. Spend the winter in the forests of Greenwood near the silvan Elves, maybe the summer close to Rivendell. There are a lot of Elves there too. It's a place of great beauty."

"I know a little Sindarin, and I've been trying to learn more. Ancalimon has promised to help us get settled. Who knows? Maybe someday, I'll even get to see the mallorns bloom." Cami sighed and looked out the porthole, half expecting to see a rich green land. But no, there was only the Sea.

"There's something else. I need to know something." He interrupted her thoughts. "Do hobbits live in caves where you're going?"

"In caves?" Cami laughed. "No, wherever did you get such a strange idea. Some live in holes on hills and river banks, but even they have a whole string of windows looking out. But you're a Fallohide. Where we're going, Fallohides live outside in the forest. Perhaps with a shelter on the forest floor if you're wintering in one place, or even in the trees like some of the Elves."

Gamba looked relieved, then hesitated and went on, "But why don't you just stay on Meneltarma? It's lovely here."

"Oh, it's lovely all right, but too small. You could skirt around the mountain, and walk from one side of the isle to the other in a single day." Cami laughed, "I need more space than that, somewhere to explore and stretch my legs."

"Gamba," Cami looked up at the boy very intently, "You have to follow your heart and do what's right for you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, but what if someone I love, in fact the only person I have left, is going someplace else, and he may be all alone?"

"That's hard, very hard," she shook her head and sighed. Separation was something she understood too well.

"Gamba, you have to do what you think is right. Ask yourself where in Arda you belong. But I will promise one thing. Rose and I have talked about this. If you feel your path lies in Middle-earth, with the forests and rolling hills, you don't have to worry about being alone. You are welcome to come with us, you and the boys, to be part of our family." She said the words quickly and then looked away, trying not to search for an answer in the boy's eyes.

Gamba shook his head, "I don't know. I just don't know. But thank you. I won't forget your words." Then she led him to the upper deck to rejoin his brother and the children, as the party again set out in the skiff with Rose to make its way back to the Elven ship.

[ November 18, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]
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Old 11-13-2002, 07:02 AM   #394
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Sting

When they arrived onshore, Azraph's father was waiting for her. Phura squeezed her hand, and tried to be grateful for the time that they had had together aboard The Star, eating, talking, and walking on the deck together. Now it seemed all too brief. He watched her back as she walked away.

The boys looked at each other, and noticed that their faces were smudgy fro mdinner still. Following a new custom that they had learned from the elves, they washed their faces in the water; but the only nearby water was the ocean, and they regretted it soon afterwards; their faces dried taut and uncomfortable. "Its not like the river, " Gamba said.

They all trudged off to find normal water. There was a stream coming out of the forest, and they washed in that. Then they wondered where they would sleep.

"How about over there?" Gamba pointed.

Phura looked, and then glanced at Gamba gratefully. He was pointing at a space of open ground that was within sight of Azraph's family. Phura could see her mother, and Nitir; and then Azraph raised her head, and smiled at him, and rolled so that she could see him, and lay back down happily.

They found a soft grassy spot, and Phura lay down so that he could see where Azraph was; Gamba took Maura in his arms and lay down, and the remaining four boys huddled around them. It was colder than in the caves. They shivered and drew closer and closer.

Suddenly, there were footsteps near them, and a familiar large woolen cloak swirled over the and settled on them. Adaruin tucked it around them gently, leaving a little room for breathing. "Sleep well, young hobbits," he said, and walked away. All of them were exhausted, and slipped quickly into a deep sleep.

So they did not see Loremaster and Azraph's father emerge from the trees, holding a soft but very animated conversation. Nor did they see that the conversation continued well into the night.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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Old 11-13-2002, 07:04 AM   #395
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Sting

Much later that evening, Cami returned to the deck of the Star and sat next to the railing, staring out at the Sea. It was hard to believe her time here would be ending so soon. Her mind wandered back to that first night in Minas Anor when she'd met Bird and Pio in a ramshackle Inn close to the docks. She remembered feeling decidedly uncomfortable, and having serious doubts about the two strange women who were proposing to go with her to search for 'sea-hobbits'.

Now, in less than a year, Cami almost felt like a different person. It seemed as if she'd known Bird and Pio her whole life, and the thought of parting from them, even to go and live with her beloved hobbits, was hard to bear.

At that instant, Cami heard a rustling noise from above, like a great bird hurtling down from the masthead. A flash of green and gold came tumbling onto the deck in front of her. The small ball unrolled, and out popped Angara's head and tail. The wyrmlet tugged on Cami's skirts and slid onto the hobbit's lap, nestling up against her warm body.

Angara must be in a good mood, Cami refected. That was the only time when she consented to shrink down to her smaller size and curl up like a contented cat before a fire. Cami began rhythmically scratching the scales behind the dragon's head. The wyrm stretched and purred in appreciation.

I shall miss you, Cami told her.

I too, came the reply. Did you hear what I am going to do? Angara positively glowed and puffed up a bit with pride.

Cami shook her head yes. Ancalimon told me. It will be wonderful for you. All those hobbrim children to keep in line. I would think there'll be a lot of marriages with more babies on the way in just a little while.

You know that you and I will be doing the same thing, Cami. I will be here with the children of Meneltarma, and you with the children of the Anduin.

Cami smiled and nodded, I hadn't thought of it that way, but you may be right. Then she looked seriously at the dragon and whispered out loud, "It does help, doesn't it? To be with the children, so the part of you that's missing someone doesn't hurt so much."

The dragon nodded as a single tear raced down her cheek, "Yes, it makes all the difference in the world. But you should go to your bed, little hobbit. You will have a big day tomorrow."

I can't sleep.

The boy? questioned the dragon.

Yes, the boy and his little ones. I keep wanting him to choose the Anduin because I truly believe he'll be happier there. But then, I feel guilty for even thinking of such a thing, since he'll probably have to leave his brother whom he dearly loves.

The dragon turned whirling eyes otowards her, Just remember, Cami Goodchild, whatever he decides is his choice, not yours. Your wishing or wanting won't push it either way.

Cami nodded and yawned. She was about to turn around and retire to her cabin, when she caught a glimpse of Piosenniel standing quietly in the stern and also staring out to Sea. "Pio, is that you?"

The Elf turned about. "Yes, I needed some time to think."

For a moment there was silence between them in the darkness. Cami struggled to find the right words, "I'll let you be then, but there's one thing I must say. I don't know what's going to happen after tomorrow. I expect we'll be sailing in the Star for our final trip. We may get so busy that I won't even have the chance to talk like this again." She looked the Elf in the eye.

"There's something I need to tell you before we go our separate ways. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you've done for the hobbits. You may look like an Elf on the outside; you may even have decided to pledge yourself to one of the big folk, but inside there's still part of you that's straight hobbit. Remember that when you're playing with the twins. Hobbits make good mothers." Cami's voice started to crack.

She looped her arms about Pio's belly and whispered, "I so wish I could have seen them, you and the twins together. When you hold them in your arms one day, don't forget to give them a kiss from Auntie Cami."

There was no more to be said. Cami awkwardly turned and tripped down the ladder, brushing away the tears which streamed down her face. Then she retreated towards her cabin to try and get some sleep.

[ November 14, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]
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Old 11-14-2002, 03:00 AM   #396
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Sting

There was a hesitant knock at the door. Pio raised her head from the pillow and looked up at the porthole. No light shone through it. The room was dark - the small candle lantern lit to ward off the night shadows had burnt itself out to a waxy nubbin long ago. A small, faint pool of candle light crept under the door, obscured here and there by the feet of the one who stood there knocking.

Mithadan slept soundly through it, though Pio nudged him in hopes he would see to it. She inched her way off the end of the bed, wrapping her cloak around her as she stood. ‘Shadow take you!’ she muttered as she tripped over Mithadan’s boots left carelessly where he had pulled them off and thrown them down.

The knocking stopped altogether as she muttered her curse and kicked the offending boots out of her way. Then a small voice whispered through the wood of the door. ‘Pio? Are you up yet? I need to talk with you.’

‘Daisy?’ she said, ‘Is that you? Wait just a moment for me to dress. Then I’ll be out.’

She pulled on her breeches and a warm sweater, grabbing her boots and throwing her cloak about her as she went out the door. ‘What are you doing up so early?’ she asked, leaning against the wall of the passageway as she pulled on her boots. Before the hobbit could answer, Pio led her down to the galley, and pulled two mugs from the cupboard for tea.

Daisy was in a fidgety mood. Pio handed her the teapot and the can of tea and sat down to wait for her to brew it. The familiar routine quieted the young girl’s nerves as she moved through it. She poured a steaming mug for Pio when it was finished and pushed the honey pot and spoon toward her. ‘Let’s go up to the deck.’ she said. ‘I need some fresh air.’

They had just exited the galley and were heading down the gangplank when two small voices called out. ‘Can we come with you?’ Pio stopped in midstride and shook her head. ‘Is no one on this ship sleeping tonight?!’ she asked as she turned round. She handed her mug of tea to Daisy and held out her hands to the two Hobbrim, each still sleepy-eyed, wrapped in quilts from their bunks. ‘Come, girls. We will all go up together.’ Coral and Shell grabbed hold of her first fingers and trooped up the stairs to the deck.

Daisy led them to the bow. It was quiet there and private – no Hobbits or Hobbrim , their bedrolls spread out, sleeping. Pio sat down crosslegged on the deck and drew the two Hobbrim girls onto her lap, one on each side. She tucked their wraps around them and maneuvered their already drowsing heads against each shoulder. By the time Daisy had settled herself next to Pio, and handed over her cup of tea, Coral and Shell had fallen fast asleep.

‘You will be a good mother, Pio.’ said Daisy, sipping her tea and watching the Elf rock the two in a lulling rhythm with the gentle sway of her body. ‘I suppose, I will.’ came the quiet reply. ‘But,’ she continued, looking at the Hobbit, ‘I don’t think you woke me to comment on my mothering skills.’

Pio looked out to where the moon shown on the water, hundreds of tiny perfect moons each wholly captured in each wave as it rose and fell. She waited for Daisy to collect her thoughts and go on.

‘Today is the day set for the Choosing, and though I have made up my mind how I will choose, I really do not want this day to come. I cannot bear the thought of never seeing my friends . . . never seeing you, again.’ She leaned against the Elf’s arm, and sighed.

‘Then you have chosen to stay with the Hobbrim. A well made choice, Daisy!’ They sat in easy silence for a while, then Pio asked, in a low voice, ‘Will you do something for me?’ The Hobbit looked up at her, questioningly. ‘I have grown quite fond of these two little sweetings. They remind me a lot of myself when I was a child and a lot of you when first I met you. Independent thinkers, and often outspoken! I will not be around to keep an eye on them. They will need someone to look up to, to guide them, to keep them from harm. Will you do that for me?’ She felt the Hobbit’s head against her arm nod ‘yes’, and heard the softly murmured, ‘Always.’

Pio smiled, and looked up at the night sky, dotted with stars. ‘Do you remember what that one is?’ she asked Daisy, pointing to the northeast quadrant. ‘It is the Butterfly, Wilwarin.’ laughed Daisy. ‘The same that you had told me of when I fell asleep on the deck, and woke to see Mithadan first kiss you.’

‘The same, indeed!’ laughed Pio. She looked down at the Hobbit’s face, now upturned to watch the star patterns. ‘I will think of you every night, Daisy, when I gaze up at the star strung sky. The same patterns are fixed in the night sky where I will be, as they are over you. When I look at Wilwarin, spreading her gleaming wings, I will think of you.’

‘And I, you, Pio.’

Dawn found them still sitting on the deck, talking over small things of no great consequence, as friends do. Pio urged the heavy lidded Daisy to go down to her bunk and take some rest, promising her she would wake her when she and Mithadan went to the Isle for the Choosing. Coral and Shell were roused from sleep and went down to their beds, too.

Once the trio was delivered to their rest, Pio stopped in the galley and splashed some cold water on her face. She foraged for some dried fruits and grabbed another mug of warm tea. Taking the steps two at a time, she went back up to the deck - to watch the sun come up fully and hear the first song of the birds as they heralded the new day.

[ November 14, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Old 11-14-2002, 10:50 AM   #397
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Sting

The dulcet serenade of the morning songbirds was rudely interrupted by a raucous "caw" out of the sky, bringing an awkward silence to the performance as the dawn chorus looked askance at the offender. Then a small black and white crow landed on the rail by the Elf, totally oblivious to her ill-timed notes.

Pio smiled at the crow and idly reach out to scratch its feathers. The birds went back to their singing. The crow ducked away from the stroking hand. "Stop that, Pio! I'm not a blessed house cat, y'know."

"Forgive me, you just looked so fluffy this morning." said Pio with a laugh. "And how have you been spending your days, Bird, I have not seen much of you lately, where have you been?"

"Oh, here and there. There and here" said the crow, which then morphed into human form, the woman sitting on the rail and swinging her feet back and forth over the water. "Flying about the island. Swimming around it's waters scouting the hunting and possible caves for living, though you would think these folk have had enough of caves, still, they will need some such places for storing supplies and for gatherings. Kali has been with me some. Very excited he is; speaking of how much his new "cousins" will enjoy this particular grotto, or that patch of searooms. He has everyone moved in and settled already, in his mind."

"And who will this 'everyone' be?" asked Pio.

"Oh, well, I wouldn't like to say," Bird replied thoughtfully. "Kali seems to have his own ideas on that, though he has been very good about not "campaigning" for certain people to come to the Hobbrim side. He mostly listens and answers questions about his life. He and I have taken a few of the bolder ones on short trips to 'the Abyss', as we did for Phura. Some are worried, some excited. A few were actually frightened, thinking that there was going to be a 'drawing of lots'. We soon put a stop to those rumors. Free choice for all, though not an easy one, I fear, for some. I hope there will not be some who regret their decision in the end."

"There are always folk who are dissatisfied with their lives, Birdie. At least they can say they were given the chance to choose, in this case."

"And what of you Bird? Any decisions concerning your life after all this?" Pio asked, and waited, dreading the reply in a way.

"Yessss..." said Bird, dreading the reply also, in a way. "I've neglected things for a while, Pio. I was searching for my kin, but I let it go. I got discouraged, and gave up, resigning myself to the thought that they were all gone, dead or scattered into the world of the beasts. But Ancalimon has hinted that this is not so. That they are still out there."

"To the South?"

"Yes, to the South". Birdie shrugged her shoulders and coughed nervously. "So, I suppose when we get back to the Fourth Age, I shall just fly South." The Elf silently gave the skinchanger a look and arched an eyebrow.

"What?" asked Bird irritably. "Don't give me that look. Well, what would you do, then?"

[ November 14, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]
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Old 11-14-2002, 01:46 PM   #398
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‘You kill me, Bird! You know that, do you not!’

Bird frowned at the now laughing Elf. ‘What is so funny about my plan?’ She turned round on the rail and nudged Pio, none too gently, with her foot. Pio leaned on the railing, stifling her laughter, and sighed deeply. ‘We have just come through a long, and I might add ‘successful’, quest to find Kali’s heritage and the missing pieces to Hobbit history. You were there when we researched it, ferreted out clues, put a plan in place. We did not go haring off after it.’

She looked out over the calm sea, collecting her thoughts before she went on. Bird was not one for long hours spent among dusty parchments searching for answers, nor was she one to draw up lists and plot courses on maps. Pio worried that her friend would find nothing but the ongoing frustration she had always had about the gaping holes in her self history. She worried even more that Bird would do something truly rash, and she would never see her again.

Pio chewed on her bottom lip, thinking, and looked down at the deck as if the answers were written there somehow. ‘If she starts rubbing the back of her neck, I’m out of here.’ thought Bird to herself, as she watched the Elf, noting how her brow furrowed, and her eyes narrowed in concentration, a certain gleam having come into them.

‘I have the vague glimmerings of a plan, my friend.’ Pio looked up and massaged the back of her neck, with her left hand. Her right arm shot out and held Bird in place.

I heard you! Do not go until you have heard me out.

Pio spoke seriously to her friend, detailing how they might split up the research for Bird’s quest. Pio would do the groundwork search for clues in the large library in Minas Anor, and in whatever ports she and Mithadan might put into on their trading voyages. Bird would do the actual footwork, traveling to the Southern and Eastern lands. They would draw up a map together of what they knew of these lands for Bird to make notes on concerning places and clues she had found.

Bird would, of course, be visiting Pio and Mithadan on a somewhat regular basis – to see her old friends and to collect the monies coming to her from their use of the Lonely Star for trading voyages. It was then that Bird and Pio would exchange the information they had gleaned from their researches.

Bird’s eyes had glazed over by the end of Pio’s plan, though she had fixed on the facts she need not do any text research and that there would be a somewhat regular source of money coming in to her.

Pio smiled at her, and punched her lightly on the arm to draw her attention. ‘So, what do you think of that plan, my friend? Any comments?’ She leaned on the rail and looked out to sea. ‘Of course you do understand, that being a plan of mine, it is subject to instant revision should the need arise.'

[ November 14, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Old 11-14-2002, 06:22 PM   #399
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Sting

Child's post

It was mid afternoon when the hobbits and hobbrim crowded together on the beach. Today there was little laughter or teasing, and no light hearted tales or riddles to be heard. Most of those who waited looked solemn or worried. Family members huddled close and held tightly to each other. Cami and Rose had pushed their way to the front, where they stood side-by-side, holding hands. Every so often, the younger girl turned around to stare at the cresting waves and search for the first glimpse of Ulmo's robe or sceptre. But, so far, she'd had no luck.

Ancalimon dragged a heavy stick along the ground, making a deep impression in the sand that divided the inner area into two equal parts. Then he stood before the assembly, "This is where you will go. There for the hobbits," pointing to the left. "And there for the hobbrim," pointing again to the right. "After we finish the names, Ulmo will come by the shore and lead the hobbrim into the Sea." Rose looked nervously at Cami as she considered this. The two hobbits had spoken earlier, and both thought Daisy would choose to be at Kali's side.

"Now, I will begin. Just walk forward and join the group you've chosen."

Gandalf took the list and prepared to read the names. He adjusted his spectacles, peered at the sheets of vellum, and cleared his throat.

"Camelia and Rose Goodchild"

There was absolute silence. No one moved. Certainly not Cami or Rose, as all eyes turned expectently towards them. Then Cami felt a poke from behind her, as Kali jabbed a webbed finger into her ribs. "That's you." he whispered fiercely.

For an instant, Cami seemed startled or surprised. She hadn't expected their names to be first. Then, without hesitation, she and Rose trotted over to the left of the circle.

Ancalimon nodded, then continued. Family after family, name after name were spoken aloud as hobbits and hobbrim came forward to state their choice. At one point Cami heard Kali's name and caught a glimpse of the hobbrim walking towards the space just opposite her. They were physically so close that Cami could have reached out and touched his hand.

Every few names, you could see the hurting underneath as brother split from brother, or grandparents sobbed to see grown children step away, with their little ones tucked under their arms. But most families stayed together, and, as Cami had guessed, the number of hobbits going to the Anduin was roughly double that staying on Meneltarma.

They were about two-thirds of the way though when Ancalimon reached Daisy's name. How different she seemed, Cami thought! She looked nothing like the frightened girl who'd hidden in her closet months before. So much had happened. Rose grabbed Cami's hand as she saw her friend look up. She leaned over and whispered, "I'm really going to miss her." Cami nodded. She could feel Rose's fingers clenching even tighter as Daisy begin to step forward.

Pio's Post

Daisy stepped forth with such assuredness that the breath caught in Pio’s throat. The young Hobbit nodded to Ancalimon and strode to take her place among the Hobbits who had chosen to make the Change. She smiled at Kali, who grinned back at her, his cheeks tinged crimson. She waved to both Cami and Rose, standing just across from them. She turned, then, and looking at Pio and smiled broadly.

Pio stepped forth slightly and tossed something in her direction. It shimmered as it sailed through the air under the bright light of the sun. Daisy caught it deftly in her hands and laughed as she held it up to view. It was that last, small, flat rock that she had not thrown into the sea the day she had struggled with her decision about the Choosing. She had given it to Pio, and now the Elf had returned it to her, cradled in fine mithril wire and strung from a bright mithril chain.

She gasped in delight as she turned it over on her palm, to find a small butterfly etched on its surface, the star pattern of Wilwarin picked out within its boundaries. She looked fully at Pio and mouthed ‘Thank you!’ as she placed the necklace over her head. Then she stepped forward, and turned her face toward the sea, where soon by the grace of Ulmo she would take her place among the Hobbrim.

Pio stepped back, to her place beside Mithadan, willing the tears away that threatened at the corners of her eyes. He reached for her hand, placing it within his, and squeezed it gently in assurance.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]
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Old 11-14-2002, 06:26 PM   #400
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Sting

Kesha stood with Phura, leaning against him, Phura with his arms protectively around the boy. Beside him, lingering, Gamba stood with the four boys-- Roka, Asta, Ban, little Maura. He couldn't tear himself away from Phura to go to the Anduin group yet. He stood beside his brother, hating the division that was coming.

Phura watched, despairing, as Azraph's father turned, with his family following, and headed to the Anduin group. He had thought that he was braced for this, but his face fell nonetheless. Gamba put his hand on his brother's shoulder, and Phura thought how much he would miss that friendly touch, and he cringed and fought back tears.

"Think of the water, " Gamba braced him. "Storms out to sea. Really big storms. You'll be happy. You'll be okay." But watching Azraph's father, and guessing at his brother's despair, Gamba was choking back tears of his own.

Then Loremaster, with Andril beside him, was walking toward the Anduin side, and Phura all but panicked. He had thought Loremaster at least was coming with him. Not even he? And why was Andril going there? Was she going to become a hobbit?

But Loremaster and Andril walked up to Azraph's father, who nodded, and held out his hand toward Azraph. Azraph stepped forward, head held high, chin quivering; and then tears began, and she threw her arms around her father's neck, weeping. Next she embraced her mother, and then each of her siblings, her sister Nitir last of all. Nitir sobbed and sobbed, and turned to her mother for comfort.

And then Loremaster and Andril together were leading the still-weeping Azraph towards Phura. As she met Phura's eyes, she smiled through her tears, let go of Loremaster's hand and reached for Phura.

Kesha wisely stepped aside.

Phura cried out in disbelief, dashed his tears away, took her hand and kissed it, drew her into a tight embrace, and held her fast. Gamba was laughing through his own tears, and looking for someone to embrace, and Azraph caught his eye and reached one hand to him, and he threw his arms around them both. They stayed that way a long time.

Eventually they all slowly slipped apart, and Phura began wiping Azraph's tears away with his own sleeve. And then he stopped.

"Twelve years, " he whispered to Azraph. "We've got to wait twelve years. And Gamba won't be there when I marry you."

"I'm sorry, " Azraph said, and she meant it. "I wish he could be."

"Azraph," he whispered huskily, "can I kiss you now? So he can see it."

Only Phura would have thought of it that way, Azraph thought, and laughed. "All right. Yes. Gamba, are you watching?"

Gamba was way behind both of them. "What? Watching what?"

Phura explained it again. "You won't be there when I marry her. So I want you to see me kiss her now."

Gamba laughed in amazement, and then sobered. His brother was totally serious, and it obviously meant a great deal to him. "If you want to. All right. Go ahead."

Right arm around her shoulders, left arm around her waist. Phura kissed her, and Gamba smiled, blinking back tears and biting back laughter, and only smiled wider when he heard Azraph's father roar, "HEY!"

Loremaster, who was still standing nearby and had heard everything, was sadly smiling, and waving unconcernedly at Azraph's father. Azraph's father began to get red in the face-- until he saw Phura release Azraph, and throw his arms around Gamba, and burst into tears. And then he mostly understood.

Gamba held his brother tightly, and said, "Good luck. Enjoy your storms. I'll always think of you when it rains. Every time."

Phura could say nothing, and only held on tighter, until he hoarsely said, "Good luck, Gamba, you rascal. You enjoy the trees. "

"I will," replied Gamba.

Phura took a deep breath, and looked at Loremaster, and Kesha, taking his hand, and lastly at Azraph, twining his fingers with hers-- for the last time, he thought, remembering that Hobbrim had webbed fingers.

There would be much to get used to.

They waited, watching, while other families made their choice; Corby, Tuka, Mika, and Kima all elected to remain as Hobbits and go to the the Anduin, and Gamba felt a twinge of comfort each time.

"Phura and Gamba Tuk."

Gamba gave Phura's shoulder one last slap, and their eyes met again. Gamba nodded. "Now go on. Go find your stormy dream."

Phura nodded, and looked around. Loremaster, oddly, was standing with Phura as a member of his family, ready to follow, bracing Phura with his presence. Azraph smiled, and Kesha tightened his grip on Phura's hand. With one last look back at Gamba, Phura led Kesha and Azraph toward the water. Loremaster, slapping Gamba on the shoulder, followed.

He watched them go. And then leading his four children, Gamba went to join the Anduin group, pondering what had happened. Loremaster had said clearly enough that he did not want Phura to be alone. He guessed Loremaster had arranged that Azraph would stay with Andril; indeed, as he was watching, Andril and Azraph did exchange several smiles. Gamba gazed at the old man with new respect and deeper love, glad that Phura had Loremaster to be with him, and thinking with surprise that he just might miss the old man after all.

[ November 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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