[piosenniel]

Mithadan was gone for most of the day. There were many details to be seen to before the ships could sail south to the Bay. He met with those who would pilot the crafts to the waiting Swan ships off the southwestern coast of Tolfalas, speaking especially to one of the men that Piosenniel would pilot that vessel. The man looked askance at the request, but the firm look in Mithadan’s eye denied him comment. ‘Well, it’s his ship, that’s for sure.’ he said to himself. ‘If he wants some fool woman to pilot it and probably run it aground before we leave port, then so be it!’

By late afternoon, all was done. Mithadan had arranged for provisions to be brought to the Star, the ships stood ready, and the crews awaited the word to set sail and head down the Anduin. Mithadan took his place at the helm and took the Star out of dock. She would lead the way for the others.

Pio had gone aboard the last ship, a trim craft named The Gull’s Wing, and introduced herself to the crew and pilot, Voronmir. Her eye roamed appreciatively about the deck and over the mast and sails. ‘A well kept ship!’ she murmured quietly, smiling at the crew. ‘We try to keep her so, m’Lady.’ said the pilot, taking her measure as she stood before him. ‘She’s nice and tight, never been run aground.’ The Elf understood his meaning all too well, and answered his fears in a serious manner. ‘And never will be under my watch.’ she said gravely, holding his gaze.

She stepped to the helm with him, and watched as the other ships moved out to follow the Star. It was The Gull’s turn at last, and she stepped back, motioning the pilot to the wheel. ‘Take her out, Voronmir.’ she said to him. ‘I will watch how she handles. You will tell me of her quirks as we sail today, and of the river’s ways. Tomorrow, then, I will take the wheel.’

The current of The Great River moved them along at a good clip. And it was, indeed, just two days later that they came to the place where the Elven ships lay at anchor. Voronmir’s misgivings had proved groundless, as Pio handled the Gull’s Wing with a steady hand, and he had grown quite fond of her as she asked him often for advice and for direction. The Gull flew over the water like the bird whose name she bore, and never once did her hull scrape against the river’s banks.

Late evening of the second day, the Men’s ships lay at anchor near the Elven vessel. Pio left the Gull under the watchful eye of Voronmir, and went to spend the night with Mithadan, aboard the Star. His eyes fell on her as she boarded, and she strode, smiling, toward him. ‘That was fun! Thank you!’ she cried, nodding her head toward the Gull.

Tomorrow, they would tackle the logistics of getting all the Hobbits from the Elven ships to the Men’s ships. Cami, she hoped, had already sorted out who was to go where. She had said she would work on a plan for that as the ship’s traveled down river.

Tonight she would spend quietly with Mithadan, trying hard not to think of the good-byes which would come all too soon and be so final.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]