[Birdland]

The duties on the “Star” and its surrounding flotilla ed had increased drastically since the time crystal had transported ships and passengers to the quiet bay by the remains of Meneltarma. Bird helped when she could with the two patients, flying between Idril's ship and the "Star", but their care was in the loving and capable hands of Cami and Pio, so little was required of her, save the fetching of an occasional item from kitchen or storeroom.

But the feeding and care of the freed Halflings was another matter. Just bedding down all passengers amongst the fleet required all the patience and diplomacy in Birdie’s possession. Most of the younger hobbits wanted to sleep on deck and revel in the breezes playing over them and the glorious field of stars shining down. But more than a few Halflings were overawed by the too vast sense of space after years spent in tunnels and tombs, and insisted that they would much prefer sleeping below decks. The ships were small, but the ocean and sky were vast. It took some getting used to.

Then there was the meeting of Hobbits and Hobbrims. The Sea Hobbits had had time to adjust to the differences between them and their land-locked “cousins”; Cami, Rose, and Daisy had left them with a good impression. But most of the “freed” Hobbits had a hard time accepting that the Hobbrim were actually related to them in any way, shape or form. Patient explanations by Ancalimon, Pio, and Cami helped, and most were touched when they heard Kali‘s story of his long search for his kin, and were impressed that it had been his discoveries and good-heartedness that had led to their own rescue.

In the end, it was the table and the bottle that led to the final acceptance of the Hobbrim as kin. The Hobbits recognized their own love for the good things of life, particularly food, drink and song. It wasn’t long before Hobbits and Hobbrim were gathered around the fire pits at night, sharing tales, laughter and fellowship. The subject of “the choosing” had not yet been broached. That would come in time.

Bird spent much of her time replenishing the larders, milking the sea-cows, driving fish into the nets of the Elves with her dolphin form, and gathering what few edible plants were left on the tip of Meneltarma. The days were short and busy. But at night, she would retire to her old, favorite place in the "Star's" crows nest, and think about all that had happened to her on this long, strange trip. Particularly what had happened to her in the tunnels.

The Battle of the Caverns had left her scarred with its fury and bloodshed, more so than even the Sack of Gondolin, in a way. At Gondolin she had lost her best friend; for a time at least. On Meneltarma she had almost lost herself.

“I am such an ignorant, uneducated creature.” Bird thought as she lay on her back in the crows nest. “Years I’ve spent thinking I know what I am, and what I can do, but that Dragon has taught me better. I know nothing about the gift given to me by Eru, and I almost lost myself, tampering with a form I could not control.” She sat up and gazed down at the sleeping huddled forms covering the deck from stem to stern. “They all think I did a good thing, changing to that Dragon, rescuing Hobbits and carrying folk to safety and all. But they don‘t know what could have happened. Walking on the edge of a sword, I was, and barely controlling something that cared little who was “friend” or “foe”, but just cared for its own pride and strength.” She shuddered as she remembered how her dragon form had gloried in the death and destruction it had rained down upon the Men at the temple and the caves.

Bird’s gaze found the sleeping form of Angara, and wondered briefly if she, too, felt these same emotions, surrounded by the Elves and Halfings she had chosen to associate with. “No. She’s different. One of a Kind, though she can be insufferable at times. Still, the darkness doesn‘t lay in her as it does in that Other. I wonder why that is?”

Then the Skinchanger’s glance fell on another who lay in darkness. The boy, Phura, sleeping with his brother Gamba and his “foundlings” snugged around him like a healing cocoon. Bird knew that the young Halfling’s experiences had also left him in a state of shock and horror. He was one of the few Hobbits who had not “bounced back” from the long imprisonment, the loss of his friends, and the horrific battle. His wide, dark eyes still stared at scenes only he could see, and he cried out in his sleep at times. Bird felt that she should approach him and see if he wanted to talk about the things that haunted him, being more than sure that they would match her own, but she thought he was better off with his own kind. They would know what was best for their child, and would see him through it. There were times though, when Phura’s despairing glance would fall on Birdie, gazing at her intently as she went about her chores. But then a gaggle of Halfling children would sweep him away, grabbing his hand to lead him to some new site, or to teach him a new song that Cami had shared with them. So Bird and Phura had never met or spoken.

Bird sighed, and returned to her own musings on her “situation”. “Whatever I do, I must never, ever, take on the form of the Dragon again. It’s too much for me. If I’m ever to play the role of “warrior”, I must do it in my own form, where I can at least know myself. I suppose Mith could show me how to use a sword, once he’s better again.”

Then she felt a pair of eyes staring up at the crow’s nest, boring into her shoulders. Bird whirled around, and met the wise, golden gaze of Angara far below. And she heard in her head, as clear as if the Wyrm sat next to her and whispered in her ear: “That would be wise, Changeling.“

[ November 05, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]