In the Shadow of the Star: Part 1

[Mithadan]

It was well after sunset when Mithadan crossed the border into The Shire. Indeed, he did not know that he had entered the South Farthing, though he soon suspected as much when he noticed that the road was in better repair. Not long thereafter, he began to see isolated farmhouses with lights burning inside and he could make out in the dim light rows of carefully tended crops.

Despite the darkness, he continued on for a time. Then, perhaps two hours after sunset, he came across a cart being drawn by a pony. A single lantern illuminated the face of an older Hobbit and what appeared to be his son. "Well met!" said Mithadan to the two in a pleasant voice. "Would you know the way to Hobbiton? I am seeking an Inn by the name of The Green Dragon."

To his surprise, the older Hobbit scowled and seemed fearful of Mithadan. But, after a moment, the Hobbit pointed down the road and then gestured off to the east. After thanking them, Mithadan resumed his journey down the road. But behind him, the younger Hobbit leaped from the cart and headed to a nearby farmhouse. Minutes later, a pony and rider galloped across the fields towards the north.

Mithadan rode on for a bit until he became weary. Then he dismounted, and made camp in a copse of trees. There he slept beneath the circling skies until morning when he was awakened by a sharp kick to the ribs. Mithadan sat up blearily, only to find that he was encicled by a ring of Hobbit archers with arrows nocked and ready. Keeping his hands visible, Mithadan spoke carefully. "Good morning! I am Mithadan, of Gondor and I am a visitor your fair land. I am seeking The Green Dragon. Is it far?"

A burly Hobbit wearing a hat which had two feathers rising from it answered without lowering his bow. "Your visit ends now, Man. I am Halfred Whitfoot, Shirriff of the Shire. By order of the King and the Mayor, no big folk are allowed to cross our borders. You are under arrest for trapessing."

"The King!" cried Mithadan. "Yes, the King. I have a letter of introduction and safe conduct from King Elessar directed to Master Samwise Gamgee. It is here in my pack..." He turned and reached for his pack only to freeze as an arrow zipped by and buried itself quivering in the turf inches from his hand.

"Keep your hands away from the pack!" cried Halfred. "Now unbuckle your belt and let it and your weapons fall to the ground." Mithadan did as he was instructed. And that is how he found himself being drawn in a pony cart, bound and gagged, through The Shire to the Lockholes in Bywater on a fine sunny morning...

[ February 28, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Birdland]

The good-byes were long at the Trade Inn, with the innkeeper delaying Bird with last-minute tidbits of news and observations, and the little skinchanger returning in kind. So it was a good two hours before Bird finally walked away on the Great South Road, turning off into the trees once she was out of sight of the Inn, and taking to the air.

She circled, but the road was empty, and she could see no sign of a Mithadan and his horse. She wondered if he had found some hidden trail that he would use as a short-cut, but little worried about the Man going astray. He was so close to Pio, surely nothing would prevent him from completing his journey, now.

Besides, Bird had no intention of following the road that Mith had took. She had decided on another course, and smiled with anticipation and mischief. Turning North, she let the course of the Brandywine guide her, and in the distance she could see the dark smudge and mists of a once mighty, ancient forest.

“Well“, she thought, “Pio and Mith will want some time alone, before I drop in and spoil the reunion. I may as well give them some time. And how could I come this far and not at least see if all the say about him is true?”

The setting sun warmed Bird’s left side as she finally reached the outskirts of the Old Forest, and she lighted at the top of a massive oak and surveyed the surrounding gloom of trees. Her heart started voicing strong doubts about the wisdom of such a plan, as the afternoon light was swallowed by the darkness in front her, never to rise again. But then she shrugged her small, feathered shoulders. “After all, Hobbits go in there. If they can do it, I can, too. And with much less bother and disruption. For I carry no axes, and seek to forge no paths. The Withywindle runs straight through the forest. I’ll just fly north ‘til I find it, and them I’m bound to find him."

But before Bird could voice any further doubts, the decision was made for her. Though no wind stirred around her, the branch she sat on started to sway, first gently, then with more vigor. Finally it bent down, and with a “snap!” released itself. Bird was shot forward as if from a catapult, and before she knew it was sailing over the treetops of the Old Forest.

The trip was easier for her than it had been for Frodo and his companions, but there were times when it seemed that a topmost tree branch would stretch out to her as she flew by, one actually brushing the feathers of her tail as she passed by. And when she paused to rest, sometimes it felt that she was not clinging to a tree branch, but to a living, warm arm, and she could feel the pulse of tree sap coursing under the bark like blood through a wrist vein. But the rising mists of the forest could not hide the stars above, and Bird followed their signs true north until finally she saw a glimmer through the trees, and the sound of trickling water. She had reached the Withywindle, and though it was full dark around her, the little stream caught the rays of the moon and lit her way. And then she heard the sounds of a flute.

She had found him. And seemingly all the other birds of the Old Forest had found him as well. All fear of darkness seemed to have left the flocks; predator and prey stood side by side in the branches, hopping here and there with delight, and occasionally letting out a trill of excitement or approval. But mostly they were attending to the flute player. The birds were throwing a party, and Tom Bombadil was both entertainment and guest of honor.

The large, jolly man sat on a stump, yellow boots tapping and feathered cap nodding as he coaxed a sprightly air from the instrument. A pair of grouse stood on a hollow log, beating out a thumping rhythm with their feet, and clapping their wings in time, and two white cranes leaped and pirouetted before him, lifting themselves into the air, twining their necks, and tapping their bills together like castenets.

Bird settled on a branch towards the back of the flock, and she bobbed and swayed to the music, but thankfully, did not caw. When the music ended with a flourish, Tom, grouse and cranes turned towards their audience and bowed, while the birds around them trilled, hooted, screamed and cooed approval, flashing their wings and and raising their crests. Bird cawed and whistled with the rest, but stopped short as Old Tom whirled and turned his smiling gaze right at her, and pointed the flute in his hand in her direction. Birdie’s eyes widened in astonishment as Bombadil began to chant:

Toss the feathers, pluck the down!
For Tom can see right through them.
Did you think you could fool me?
“Birdie” in name only.

Set your feet upon the ground,
Leave your nightly wandering,
Come and share my hearth and home,
For Goldberry’s voice is sweeter.

But come the dawn you must away,
Older friends are waiting.
They’ll remind you who you are,
And call on you to help them.

And so Bird spent the night with Tom and Goldberry, laughing, singing, recounting the adventures of “The Star”, and Hobbrims, and Mer-Folk, with Tom correcting the bits she did not remember; for he seemed to know the tale even better than the skinchanger, herself.

But come the dawn she was away, and after flying around the Farthings, checking out the fields and towns that she recalled from Cami’s reminiscing, watching the Shire-Folk at their comings and goings, she finally came flying through the night, spying the friendly lights of the Green Dragon. Laughter, singing, and the sounds of children eminated from the walls and echoed in the trees around her, and the smells of good cooking and ale waived on the breeze. It seemed there was a party going on here as well, and it, too, had started without her.

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[piosenniel]

Child's post

Cami had retreated to the back of the Inn, with the baby nestled gently in the crook of her arm. She tapped her friend on the shoulder to awaken her, entrusting Hamfast to her care, and then guided Miz Rose towards the table, pulling out a bench for her to rest. She did look weary to Cami, far too weary since there was still some time to go until the expected birth. Cami went to locate and retrieve Angelica so the three of them could discuss Miz Rose's unfinished business.

Angelica and Rose exchanged greetings and took a moment to share the latest tales about their childrens' antics. Finally, Miz Rose confided, "I've called us together for a reason. I have a problem, and need your help. Miss Pio came to me the day before yesterday, asking that I assist in the delivery of her twins. I was both happy and honored to oblige. But, for the past day, I've not been feeling well, and that seems to be a sign for me to slow down."

Cami and Angelica nodded their heads in agreement. Yet, they knew it would not be easy for Rose to cut back on her duties with so many children to tend. As if reading their concerns, Miz Rose reasssured them, "I know my husband and older children will help, once I speak with them. But I need to assure Sam that I'll cut back and not take on any extra duties. And I'm afraid that being a midwife is an extra duty, however much I would like to help Piosenniel."

"I thought that one of you might be able to help out." Miz Rose looked at her two friends. "Cami, Pio mentioned that you've become a healer and teacher in your new home. Perhaps you'd like to help her, since you know her best? Or Angelica, you've assisted with several births in the Shire, and would be more than qualified to act as a midwife."

Cami shook her head. "I'd like to, but I have less experience than either of you. More importantly, I'm not sure how long I'll be here. I was escorted to the Shire by someone and must return when they come to fetch me. It would be risky for me to take on such a responsibility since I'm not sure when that is. Angelica would be a better choice."

Angelica glanced first at Cami, then over at Miz Rose. She spoke slowly and thoughtfully. "I would like to help, but I've never seen an Elf give birth. To tell the truth, I've never even spoken with an Elf. But, if you think I can do it, I'd be willing to try."

Cami put her hand on Angelica's shoulder. "Go talk with Pio, and tell her what we've discussed. I think you'll find yourself more comfortable with her than you think."

"Miz Rose, sit and rest." Angelica implored. "I'll get Pio." Then, she added, "You know, Rose, you would have been better off staying home tonight."

Miz Rose smiled, "And how could I do that to my Sam? How many times has he wondered about Frodo and how he felt and what he was doing? If I was sitting at home with Sam--and you know he'd never leave me--both of us would have been miserable."

The three hobbits laughed, for what Miz Rose was saying had the ring of truth. Then Angelica went off to find Piosenniel.

Pio's post

Pio had just entered the door with the two children, and given them into the care of Elanor, when she saw a familiar face approach her. Angelica Muddyfoot, Cami’s old friend, she recalled. Pio brushed the wrinkles from her gown where she had been sitting on the ground, and smiled encouragingly at the approaching Hobbit woman. She was looking forward to meeting one of Cami’s friends from the Shire.

As Angelica drew near, Pio stepped forward and inclined her head toward her. ‘I am Piosenniel, Mistress Muddyfoot. Or Pio to my friends. You are one of Cami’s dear friends from childhood, are you not? So pleased to meet you.’

Nurumaiel's post

Angelica looked up at the Elf and suddenly felt very dizzy. I can't do this, she thought wildly, but she calmly told of her discussion with Miz Rose. "And so," she finished, "I've come to meet you at Cami's suggestion, and ask you a few questions. I've been midwife before, but never for an Elf and you can understand that I'm very nervous."

Pio nodded understandingly.

Angelica paused for a moment, trying to think of what to say next. What did she want to ask Miss Piosenniel, anyway? Do Elves give birth the same way as Hobbits? The thought raced through Angelica's mind, but she was certain if she asked that, she'd be laughed.

Pio seemed to read her mind. "You needn't be afraid to ask questions," she said kindly, and her voice melted away all Angelica's anxieties. She began firing out questions, hardly waiting for Pio to finish answering before she asked the next. The Elf answered each one calmly and surely, and with the kindest of tones.

Angelica finished her long list of questions, and then was silent. What to say now? She hadn't come to a decision, but she couldn't sit here in silence forever. I've made up my mind to say yes, she thought firmly. I think I can handle this, despite how nervous I am.

"Perhaps," said Pio, "it would be better if I told you now, before you say you will, that it's to be twins."

Twins! Angelica felt like she was going to faint as she stared blankly up at Pio. Twins were nothing terrible to her. I've had my own twins, after all, she thought. But Elf twins! It was unheard of. This was her first encounter with an Elf, and she wasn't going to…

She stopped, and took a deep breath, looking around wildly. Her eyes rested on her Prisca-baby, who was giggling at Fosco chasing Madoc around the room. Then she set her jaw and looked firmly at Pio. "Miss Piosenniel," she said clearly, "I've come to a decision. I'll do it."

Pio smiled and thanked her.

"But I can't do it alone," said Angelica, half to herself. "I think I'll have Peony Muddyfoot, my sister-in-law, assist me. She was midwife for me when I had my eldest, and aside from her experience, she's very kind and understanding. She'd be perfect. That is, Miss Piosenniel, if you agree."

Pio’s post

‘I do agree, Mistress Muddyfoot. Miz Rose seems a good judge of character. I trust that she has made a fine choice for her replacement. And so I will trust in your judgement, also. Might I call you Angelica? Since we will be getting to know one another quite well. And please call me Pio.’

Pio looked round at Angelica’s own set of twins, and smiled broadly. ‘Lively, aren’t they?! I wonder if that is what I have to look forward to.’ She could see Angelica giving a considering look to her own children, and a frown crease her brow.

Pio put out her hand and touched the Hobbit lightly on the arm. ‘I have already given some consideration to who might watch the children while you are with me.’ Angelica raised her brows at the Elf, wondering if she had indeed read her mind. ‘Sometimes the questions are simply written on your face,’ Pio said, laughing at the easily read map of emotions that flowed across the features of the Hobbit’s face. ‘Please let me assure you that it is not my custom to pry into your thoughts.’

She pointed toward the energetic Gamgee children who were playing a wild game of tag beneath the staircase and around the empty tables in one corner of the room. ‘I had thought that Miz Rose might need someone to watch her children. I know that Elanor and young Frodo are responsible enough, but even they would need a break sometime.’ The two women began walking back to where Miz Rose was resting. ‘I spoke with Hob Hamfast, our stableman, and his wife, Minta. They have no children as yet, being just newly wed. Minta comes from a large family, and she misses the hustle and bustle of her brothers and sisters. She jumped at the chance to do childcare, when I asked her. And, in fact, she made the suggestion that the little ones could stay the night at their house if that was necessary. In fact, I got the idea that she would welcome them even if it were not necessary!’

They had reached Miz Rose, who now sat comfortably on a padded bench, a cup of tea in her hands. She beamed as they approached. ‘An excellent choice, isn’t she Miz Pio!’ They talked for a while about births the both of them had assisted with, and the additional difficulties associated with having twins. Pio made the mistake of saying, once again, that Elven women did not suffer from the same discomforts as did other woment in labor. The looks on all three of the Hobbits’ faces made it clear to her that they simply did not hold with that theory.

Cami laughed, saying, ‘You’ll find Pio to be the sort of person who simply assumes that events will go her way because that is how she intends for them to go.’ Pio was about to rebut that false statement, when she discerned a decided snicker from the other two women, telling her they fully agreed with Cami’s assessment, and further, felt, too, that Pio would be in for a rude awakening when the time came.

Miz Rose took Pio’s hand in hers. ‘Don’t be angry with us, Piosenniel,’ she said sweetly. ‘You’ll understand where we’re coming from once you’ve had your own babies.’ She sighed and gently rubbed her belly. ‘I’m so sorry to not be able to do this for you, but at the rate I’m going, I may have this baby before you have yours.’

Pio placed her own hand where Miz Rose’s baby kicked most vigorously. ‘You think she’ll arrive soon, then?’ she asked her. Rose’s eyes flew open at the simple question. ‘Have I said something wrong?’ she asked Cami, as both Angelica and Rose looked askance at her. ‘Well, Pio, unlike Elves, we don’t usually know what we’re getting until they appear.’

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

With the exception of her mistake in telling Miz Rose that her unborn child would be a girl, Pio felt her talk with Rose and Angelica had gone well. Both Rose and Cami seemed to place a lot of confidence in Angelica, though Pio had noted a decided undercurrent of nervousness and doubt that ran through the Hobbit at times. She left the three of them to talk with one another, and went back to her seat at the window table with Amaranthas.

‘Cat got your tongue, missy?’ said the old Hobbit gently, as she watched Pio gaze out the window at the starry sky, her brow creased in thought.

Pio turned back to Amaranthas and told her about the change in plans for midwives. ‘What do you know about this Angelica Muddyfoot,’ she asked her. ‘And have you heard of Peony Muddyfoot? She is going to be her assistant.’ Amaranthas cackled at the Elf’s questions. ‘Never thought one of the Fair Folk could be so nervous about anything. I had always heard that ice water ran in your veins.’ Pio laughed and shook her head. ‘No, we bleed the same warm, red blood as you do. I merely want to make sure I bleed as little as possible.’ She fixed Amaranthas with her eyes. ‘Now, come on. I know you are dying to tell me all sorts of things about these two.’

‘Get me a glass of that outland brew and I’ll tell you what you need to know.’ Amaranthas had heard that the ale from Stock was of the finest in that section of the Shire and since it was unlikely she would be traveling to The Golden Perch to taste it for herself, she thought to have a glass of it brought to her. She took a good mouthful of it once Pio had set it before her and her eyes lit up with pleasure. ‘Not bad! Not bad at all!’ was her final judgment as she drained the half pint and set the mug down squarely in front of the Elf, her finger tapping on the rim of it. ‘One more, just to sip on, and I’ll tell you about the two women. Pio laughed, wondering if she would have to carry the tiny Hobbit back to her rooms once this night was over.

‘Not much to say about Angelica. She’s a Baggins, you know.’ began Amaranthas. ‘She’ll stand you in good stead as a midwife. Frets a lot, but that’s more because she likes to get things done exactly right, and not because she’s not confident. She used to just fret about her looks, vain some would have called her in her youth, but now that fretting about being perfect has spilled over into everything she does.’
Pio’s brows went up at this assessment. ‘Oh, but not to the point of not being able to follow through on things,’ assured Amaranthas. ‘She just likes to be thorough.’

‘Now Peony, she’s an interesting one. The youngest child of Otho and Aldarida Brown Muddyfoot. Five children in that family. Merimac, Angelica’s husband is the second. Good folk, the Muddyfeet, from Michel Delving. Calm.’

‘Peony’s thirty-eight. Independent as the day is long. Says she’ll never get married, but between us I think it’s just that she hasn’t been asked yet. Take a strong man to win her approval. She’s bold and speaks her mind, though always in a kind way if she can. She’s very confident in herself. She was Angelica’s midwife for Madoc, and also for Melilot Tunnelly. Why, if I were having babies,’ and at this the old Hobbit wheezed out a dry laugh, ‘she’d be the one I wanted to deliver them!’ Pio sighed in relief. ‘Then it appears I have a good team. Thank you for filling me in.’

Amaranthas put a hand on Pio’s arm. ‘Yes, you’ll be fine with those two. And you’d better tell Hob to come get me in the cart, dearie. Old Amaranthas wouldn’t miss this for the world!’ Pio smiled at her and leaning across the table gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Amaranthas had gone back to sipping on her ale, her quick, dark eyes darting about the room at all the merriment.

Pio turned her attention to the night sky beyond the window. Wilwarin hovered brightly in the sky. The sounds of the party flowed over her, leaving her untouched as she wondered where her beloved slept this night.

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

Lorien tarried by the keg for some time. He was unfamiliar with beer and found it to be quite tasty once one got used to it. When he had finished his third pint, he drew a fourth from the keg and wandered off towards the fire where he discovered Cami sitting near Miz Rose. He stood, watching the two chat for a moment before interrupting. "Your pardon, ladies," he said. "But I would like a moment with Cami, please."

Cami looked up at the Vala in surprise, then nodded quickly and excused herself and walked off into a corner to stand by Lorien who knelt beside her. "Cami," he began after taking a sip at his pint. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Well," replied the Hobbit. "I suppose that you are here to accompany and assist Frodo and Bilbo in their travels." Lorien nodded, then, after a moment's thought resumed. "Well, yes," he said. "There is that. But why do you think that we are all here?"

"So that Frodo and Bilbo may have a last opportunity to see their friends and loved ones, I would suppose. Though I'm not sure why I was brought here," answered Cami, beginning to become a bit confused at the riddle game.

Lorien shook his head distractedly and took another long draught from his cup, which was now nearly empty. "Well, yes, there is that, but it is about you that I wish to speak...to you I mean, if you understand..."

Cami's brows were furrowed. "Actually, I don't," she replied. "I don't understand at all. Why I am here, I mean."

Lorien swayed a bit as he listened to Cami's words. Then he shook his head again and opened his mouth to speak. But before any words could come, he was interrupted by a loud crash as the door to the Inn swung open a bit too quickly. If many heads turned in surprise, they were all even more surprised at what they saw there.

Bright blue was his jacket, and his boots were yellow. Green was his girdle and his breeches of leather. He wore a tall hat with a swan's wing feather. He shouted out in a loud, yet lyrical voice, "Hey dol! Derry dol! Ring-a-ding-dillo! Here's Tom, old Tom, here's Tom Bombadillo!"

He swept in quickly and made straight for Frodo who was standing stock still by the bar. Behind Tom came a second figure, with hair golden like honey and a dress of shimmering silver and blue. About her brows, she wore a garland of buttercups. Tom and Goldberry came to stand before Frodo who smiled in delight. Tom swept off his hat and bowed deeply until his beard swept the floor. Then he rose with a twinkle in his eye. "You called for old Tom, master Frodo, but for a happy occasion I see. All your friends are here to greet you and now Goldberry and me!"

Pio’s post

Then another clear voice, as fresh and as old as Spring, like the song of glad water flowing down into the night from a bright morning in the hills, came falling like silver on Frodo’s ears:

Now let the song begin! Let us sing together
Of sun, stars, moon and mist, rain and cloudy weather,
Light on the budding leaf, dew on the feather,
Wind on the open hill, bells on the heather,
Reeds by the shady pool, lilies on the water:
Old Tom Bombadil and the River-daughter!

And with those words, she smiled and greeted Frodo warmly, and a golden light was all about them as they spoke.

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

Frodo bowed in reply, laughing out loud with sheer delight. "I have wanted to see you again for so long. Tom, welcome. Welcome."

Then he turned, with his eyes shining and his face glowing, and stepped closer to Goldberry. She smiled, and then laughed with delight as Frodo sang for her once again as he had before, only this time he did not blush:

"O slender as a willow-wand! O clearer than clear water!
O reed by the living pool! Fair River-daughter!
O spring-time and summer-time, and spring again after!
O wind on the waterfall, and the leaves' laughter!"

And he stepped forward unabashed, took her hand and kissed it. Tom laughed, and Frodo laughed back at him, and the three joined hands and jigged a measure. Then he turned to his friends, and said, "A long desire of mine has now been met, and my joy is full! Goldberry would say, " he turned his gaze on her again, "'Laugh and be merry! This is a merry meeting!' And so it is. I could dance for joy!"

Tom caught his hand again, and as he sang, the slipping circle went first to the left, and then to the right, and at every shift, somebody joined in. So did the fiddles and flutes, and before long, there were children gamboling in the center of the circle, and only the very old, the very young, or the very-with-child were not dancing as Tom sang:

Hey! Come Derry dol! Hop along, my hearties!
Hobbits, elves, young and old, we are fond of parties!
Now let the fun begin! Let us dance together!
Shirelings and travellers with Tom and the River-Daughter!


Laughter flowed like a rushing river through the dance, and one song followed another, and it was long before anybody grew tired.

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami's jaw dropped open in total amazement and frustration, the two emotions so mixed together they were impossible to separate. She was indeed one of the very few at the Inn who were not dancing about the floor.

For the moment at least, her feeling of amazement was the one that prevailed. To be seeing Tom Bombadil in all his raucous glory was really quite astounding! She had just been chatting with Merry how she had always wanted to meet him, and here he was turning up at her party in the middle of Hobbiton. I can't believe he's here, she reflected. The old tales say he never ventures far from the Old Forest, save for the Marish and the Barrow-downs itself. And not only that, but the lovely Goldberry, daughter of the river, stood there by his side.

Cami wondered how the two of them had heard about this event. She could not recall their names being on her invitation list. Perhaps, it was Maggott who had tipped off both of them. Then, again, given the presence of all these newcomers, Cami was beginning to wonder if there wasn't a little bird somewhere in the Shire, flitting about and dropping notes on select homes to inform them of the arrival of Frodo and Bilbo. She glanced warily towards the door, wondering if there would be more unexpected arrivals, and reviewed the menu items in her head to assure herself that there would be enough food to feed their additional guests.

Still, Cami didn't spend too much time worrying about that. There were mountains of food waiting in the kitchen, which would be brought out in short order. After Tom and Goldberry finished exchanging their greetings with Frodo, she promised to go up herself and try to meet them.

Cami was so entranced with Tom and Goldberry's arrival that, for an instant, she forgot the source of her frustration. She was just about to throw up her hands and join in the merry springle-ring.

Then, it abruptly returned to her. Lorien had been talking to her and alluding to something of more than casual interest. Ah, yes, the reason why she was here. Just the thing she'd been yearning for someone to confide in her. Cami reasoned that the fellow was a Vala so he should know a great deal more than she did. She glanced nervously about, intending to corral Lorien and coax an answer out of him as quickly and efficiently as possible.

But, when she turned around to find him, Lorien was no longer seated at the table. He had danced across the floor in the direction of Tom and Goldberry, and seemed to be pirouetting about in circles, with his flagon of ale held high in honor of their new guests. Cami looked on with increasing frustration, wondering how she could possibly interrupt and force the Vala's attention back to the critical issue at hand.

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

So fair was the grace of Goldberry that it seemed her dancing feet moved through the rhythms of the dance as the quick waters of a rain-filled brook flow quickly over small grey stones, a rushing song in their passing. Her hair shimmered and rippled in the firelight, and “a light like the glint of water on dewy grasses flashed from under her feet as she danced."

She reached out a slender hand to Lorien, her eyes untricked by the guise he had assumed, and drew him for a while into the dance. Her gown rustled softly like the wind in the tall rushes bordering on a river as she danced, and her laughter fell softly into spaces between the notes of the song like a clean summer’s rain.

Tom pulled her and Lorien from the circled dance, closing the gap left by their exit as he joined the hands of the Hobbits on each end.

‘Well met, Master of Spirits! What brings so fair a dream to the Shire, so merry a meeting of old friends and new?’ He took the now empty flagon from Lorien’s hands, and refilled it from the cask, filling one also for himself. ‘Yes,’ joined in Goldberry, casting her bright eyes about the room at the Hobbits, ‘what has tempted you from the pleasures and the peace of your own gardens, and from the side your gentle Estë.’

Lorien drew them into a quiet corner and spoke of desires and wishes woven together in this space of time, and of his part in it. Tom’s head nodded many times, as if he had already known this, and had waited only for Lorien’s words to set it into being. Often his bright blue eyes would drift to where Frodo and Bilbo stood, and his face would wrinkle in a wide smile, as Lorien spoke.

Goldberry’s eyes were often on Cami as the story unfolded. ‘So like a summer’s flower in her green and yellow,’ she thought, ‘awaiting the refreshing touch of raindrops on thirsty leaves and roots.’ And when Lorien had finished speaking, she stepped lightly away for a moment, saying she had some small thing to bring in for the party.

The River’s-daughter “. . . passed out of the room with a glimmer and a rustle. The sound of her footsteps was like a stream gently falling away downhill over cool stones in the quiet of the night.” At the foot of the stairs to the Inn, she and Tom had left two small casks of honeyed mead, made last summer with honey from their beehives and the hardy flowers of late summer just passing into autumn. Rich, dark gold was its color and its spirit strong.

‘Mead!’ cried Lorien, his eyes dancing with delight, as she brought it in. ‘I had a taste of that this very afternoon. A wondrous offering of Middle-earth.’

Old Tom’s brown beard wagged up and down, and his eyes twinkled merrily, as he filled a glass of the thick, golden liquid for the Vala. Lorien drained it quickly, his hand reaching out the glass for another. Tom laughed, as did Goldberry, as he poured another round for Lorien.

‘Master of Spirits you might be,’ he chuckled, ‘but best be careful that Goldberry’s spirits do not master you.’ Lorien simply winked at the Eldest, and offered his empty glass once again.

Goldberry left the two to talk and make merry with the mead. Her footsteps brought her to Cami, and she smiled invitingly at the Hobbit, offering her a small glass of mead.

‘Well met, Elf-friend. How goes your time in the northern forest?’ She laughed merrily at the look of surprise on the Hobbit’s face. ‘The waters run south to the sea. They bring news.’ She laughed again, a softer silvery sound. ‘Come now. I have brought you some of my garden’s own mead for your pleasure.’

*********************************************
Child's post

Goldberry handed Cami a cup of the sweet honeyed drink, and bowed graciously before her, her sweet voice tingling with merriment, like the echo of a free-flowing river.

Cami curtseyed in response and whispered a few polite and earnest words concerning her home in Greenwood, the hardships her kin faced, and her fears for their safety. For it surprised her greatly that Goldberry should know or speak to her of such things.

Laughing and swirling about on her toes, the daughter of the River raised her slender white arms above her head. A wind stirred within the Inn itself, like a breeze that rustles the slender boughs of a tree or ripples through its leafy foliage. "Come now, Miss Cami. Such solemn words and such a serious demanor! This is not what I had hoped to find. Speak no more of hardship or shadow. For tonight I would hear you voice your dreams."

"Look there, how the Master of the Gardens of Lorien and the Master of the Old Forest dance within the circle. They weave visions together into one great tapestry, which stands bedecked with silver mists and the lilting tunes of songbirds. Once again, the curtains part."

"Hobbit lass, you have been summoned into the circle. Such a thing is rare and wondrous. They weave one dream for you, and another for Master Frodo. Do not turn away, or ask so many questions. Join in the song, and share the secrets hidden in your heart."

For some unknown reason, Cami found herself blushing pink from the top of her curls to the very soles of her feet. And she shared with Goldberry many things concerning her love for a wise hobbit Loremaster who dwelled in a place far away. And the River-daughter laughed to hear all she said and urged Cami to join the dance, and not to lose her hope.

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Carrûn]

Frodo-lad was having quite an evening. Never before had the young hobbit seen such an assortment of guests before even at some of the biggest Shire parties. Along with Merry-lad he had chased Mr. Brandybuck with a vigor as young Pippin-lad strove to keep up, but being unnable to do so for long he waltzed over to his father instead. Catching up with Merry they attempted to wrestle with him briefly but he was somewhat of a giant among hobbits and they soon gave up much to the ammusment of their elder.

Growing borde, Frodo-lad looked around for his sister but did not see her. The smell of food was beginning to work on him and he made up his mind to get some one was or another.

[ March 03, 2003: Message edited by: Carrûn ]

[piosenniel]

Amaranthas sat down with a satisfied thud on her chair. She had danced in the springle-ring, holding on to the hands of Master Merry and Master Pippin! Her old feet had flown round the floor, and her steps had been light and sure, as if some gentle hand supported her tired old bones. A wide grin wrinkled her tiny face, and she nudged Pio, drawing her attention from the night sky. ‘Pour me a cup of wine, Miz Pio! My throat’s as dry as a burnt piece of toast after all that singing.’

A bright light glinted from her eyes and gnarled fingers tapped out the rhythms she had just danced to. ‘Aboslutely amazing, you know,’ she continued, after a few sips. ‘I don’t know half those songs we sang, but somehow the words just came to me. I haven’t felt this young for an age it seems.’

Her eyes lit on Tom, sitting at a table with that other fellow, Lorien. ‘Just who is that?’ she asked, pointing at him as he laughed merrily at something Lorien had said. ‘And isn’t she a pretty one, and so graceful and quick.’ She gazed at Goldberry, now standing near Cami.

‘The Elves have a name for him, Iarwain Ben-adar, Oldest and Fatherless.' said Pio. 'Though, I think even that naming does not capture him. He’s just Tom, Tom Bombadil, here with his pretty lady. Goldberry, the River-daughter.’ She smiled at Amaranthas, who waited expectantly for more. ‘He is,’ she said softly to the Hobbit, ‘and she is with him.’

Amaranthas snorted at this Elvish talk, but seeing that she was to get no more from Pio, sat back comfortably in her chair and sipped her wine.

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orual]

Slightly shaken from the run-in Farmer Maggot's dog, Sam was doubly surprised and delighted when Tom Bombadil and Goldberry arrived. He looked down and saw little Pippin, who was tugging at the leg of his father's slacks. He scooped up the four-year-old, who started waving frantically. To Pippin-lad's joy--and scarcely less to Sam's--Tom waved back cheerfully. The boy beamed and hugged his father's neck tightly, overjoyed, and shrieked in excitement.

When the dance started, Sam extended a hand to Rose, who declined, taking a seat by the fireplace. She looked tired, and stroked the top of Hamfast's curly head--he was leaning by her chair. She waved him on, and so he rejoined the circle and began to dance, taking Rosie-lass by the waist and spinning her. The music was infectious, and Sam got caught up in it, forgetting all his problems and the worries that he had brought into the party, and simply danced.

When the dance ended, Sam bowed and kissed Rosie-lass's hand, and she laughed. Sam looked around and saw that Frodo had drifted off, and all of his gloom came back to him. He must have slumped visibly, for Merry walked up to him.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Merry asked, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I thought you'd be happy, with all that's going on."

Sam smiled weakly and put his hand on top of Merry's. "I thought so, too. It's just...strange, is all. We've all changed so much in twelve years, Merry--but you, and me, and Pippin, we've changed together. Frodo changed apart from us, in the West, in a totally different way. I don't know him anymore."

Merry frowned, and squeezed Sam's shoulder sympathetically. "You'll get a chance to talk to him, alone, and you'll catch up. Just don't let this chance go by, or you'll always regret it."

Sam looked up sharply at Merry, but the Master of Buckland just smiled cheerily and went over to talk with some of the other guests, leaving Sam alone to think on Merry's words.

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]

[piosenniel]

Pio had returned to her watch on the night sky when she felt Amaranthas nudge her again. Without turning, she sighed, saying. ‘Really, Amaranthas, I can tell you no more of Tom Bombadil.’

‘Perhaps I can speak for myself then,’ came the amused voice behind her. Tom stood at the table, smiling down at her. His ruddy face, the color of a ripe apple, was creased into a hundred wrinkles of laughter.

‘Mae govannen, Master Tom!’ her cheeks tinged with crimson that she had not noticed his approach. She stood and inclined her head to him, waiting for him to speak further. This was one before whom she felt small and humble, and she was honored that he had come to her table.

Again he laughed, a merry sound, his blue eyes gleaming with the starlight from the open window. ‘Sit, Piosenniel. No need to stand on Old Tom’s account. I bring you word of a friend who draws near.’

‘Mithadan?’ she asked, wondering that he might have passed through Old Forest.’

‘Not Mithadan, though soon I think you shall hear of him.’ He shook his head as she thought to ask Tom further news of him. ‘An older friend than him,’ Tom said, singing this verse:

Toss the feathers, pluck the down!
For Tom can see right through them.
Did you think you could fool me?
“Birdie” in name only.

An ‘O’ of surprise formed on Pio’s lips, and her eyes widened with delight. ‘Bird is here, then?’ she asked.

‘Soon, soon. Then she’ll fly in, to a merry meeting, if I have the right of it.’

Pio, all humbleness aside now that he had mentioned her dear friend, pressed him for further details. With a grin and a nod of his head, he told her all of their long night together, the songs, the stories of her trips south, the tales from the Star. And she drank it all in, thirsty for news of Bird.

As wonderful as this evening’s festivities were, tears glistened along the line of Pio’s lashes. ‘You have brought me joyous news, Eldest. I miss her sorely.’ She turned her face back to the night framed by the window. ‘Now if only the winds will bring her swiftly to me.’ she murmured.

Bidding both of them a pleasant evening, Tom took leave of her and Amaranthas and sought out Goldberry.

Amaranthas, wondering at the both of them, sat and watched as they moved about the room. Contented, she kept her own counsel, tucking it away to savor later.

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

Mark 12_30's post:

As the dance swirled and cascaded, Frodo scanned the crowd, and found the one he sought. Moving through the dance, he reached her, and offered her his hand. Her blue eyes grew huge, but she took the proffered hand.

Smiling and lauhging, Frodo led her back through the dance. Her eyes grew even wider as she found herself dancing near Tom and Goldberry. Goldberry smiled down at her, and Elanor blushed and didn't know what to say. Golden curls flying, she kept dancing, in no hurry to leave Mr. Frodo's side.

And Frodo was content to have her there.

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

After many rounds of music and much dancing and mirth, Cami rememembered her own unfinished business. She still needed to approach Lorien and persuade him to reveal some answers to her questions, for however full of merriment Goldberry had been, Cami had not understood her words and even found them a bit unsettling. With this plan in mind, she began to search for Lorien. Yet, she could find no glimpse of him, and was beginning to worry he had left the party without even speaking to her.

It was when Fatty approached her, asking for a dance, that she decided to pull him quietly aside and put an end to their misunderstanding. Cami spoke gently to Fatty and revealed as much of her situation as she could, even describing Maura, but without any specific names or dates or places. She went on to say how a cataclysm of war had torn the hobbit from her side, and there was little chance she would ever see him again. Yet, she refused to give up hope and there was still some possibility that Lorien knew where he was, and could help her find him.

"Fatty, I need your assistance." Cami went on to beg. You're my closest friend from Buckland and the East Farthing, and the only one who knows my secret. I need to get hold of Lorien and persuade him to talk to me, but I don't even know where he is."

Fatty scratched his head and looked intently at the woman in the green and yellow gown who had captured his heart. Such a strange, sad tale. It reinforced his belief that folk were better off staying safely within the Shire and not running away on adventures where bad things were bound to happen. Whether it was the gentle urgency of Cami's words, the soft haze left by the honeyed mead, or just the goodness of Fatty's heart, the hobbit resolved to aid her. In any case, if Cami spoke with Lorien and finally realized her situation was hopeless, perhaps she'd come to her senses and look for a good mate close to home.

"You're quite sure about this, Cami? This fellow knows something that can help you."

"Fatty, I'm not sure of anything. But he did say he had a message for me, before he was pulled away by Tom. I looked everywhere in the party room, and couldn't find him."

Cami offered to look through the back of the Inn, while Fatty checked the stables and the other areas outside and hunted for any clues on the location of their missing guest. Fatty stopped long enough to enlist his friend Merry, but was careful not to reveal any of the particulars. The two went outside and begin their search of the stables.

It did not take long to locate the missing guest. Merry was the first to hear the loud caterwauling noises coming from the garden that stood directly behind the Inn. Creeping back inside and slipping out the kitchen door, they found Lorien atop the picnic table, staring up at the skies, and singing to the moon. Beside him on the table was the great dog Fang, lending his support with a well-placed howl or two at strategic points in the verse.

'I want fire and gold and songs of old and red wine flowing free!'....

For hunger or drouth naught passed his mouth till he gave both crown and cloak;
And all that he got, in an earthen pot broken and black with smoke,
Was porridge cold and two days old to eat with a wooden spoon.
For puddings of Yule with plums, poor fool, he arrived so much too soon:
An unwary guest on a lunatic quest from the Mountains of the Moon.

Fatty raised one eyebrow and looked over at Merry. This did not sound encouraging to either of them. The hobbits had spent too many long evenings in the Green Dragon Inn in their youth and could clearly see what was going on. The part about the lunatic quest was particularly disturbing to Fatty. How could Cami think that this fellow could possibly help her?

Merry immediately echoed his own doubts out loud, "How's he gonna' talk with her? I mean...."

"I have no idea. But that's her problem. Let's jut drag him inside and she'll figure it out."

"He's awfully big to drag. Maybe we should get the others to help."

"No," hissed Fatty. "We can do this ourselves. I promised Cami."

At that point their conversation was interrupted by the gentleman sitting on the table, "Ah, hobbit lads. You didn't happen to bring another pitcher of that good honeyed mead, now? I finished the last spot from....ah, now when was that we were drinking in the garden? Anyways, I finished the last little nip from the flask out here and need a bit more to chase it down."

His speech was surprisingly articulate to Merry, considering how much he'd just finished drinking. But his eyes were glassy and rolled about in his head. "This fellow must have an amazing capacity," muttered Fatty. "Just look at all those cups."

There were indeed ten empty flagons lined up neatly beside Fang.

"Maybe the dog?"

"Nah," countered Fatty. "The beast has too much sense for that."

Lorien turned away and was about to resume his crooning when Fatty went up to him and boldly interrupted. "Your pardon, sir, but Cami has a nice table set up inside with a large pitcher of honeyed mead and was hopin' you'd share it with her."

A grin broke out on Lorien's face. "There's a good hobbit lass! Always thinkin' of 'er friends and such." He tumbled off the table, but managed to stagger up, and leaning first in one direction and then in the other, made his way back towards the Inn, supported on the shoulders of two sturdy hobbits.

"Miss Cami, sir, says you're supposed to tell her something important." Fatty looked up at the wobbly visitor with expectation in his eyes, mixed with a healthy measure of skepticism.

"Er....I believe so." And Lorien tried very hard to remember what that something was, but every time he came close to getting it, the idea slipped away. What was that now? Something about another hobbit lad that the girl was soft on... Was it this lad standing beside him? Lorien wasn't sure.

So Fatty came triumphantly up to Cami, leading his gift of love, and unceremoniously dumped the missing visitor near the table she'd set up, just under the open window in the Common Room. Cami heaved a sigh of relief, although she too could see the state Lorien was in. Still, it was worth a try.

Then, without warning something happened, that no one in the room expected, or, more precisely, no one in the room except for Tom and Piosenniel.

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

Since the end of the War Against the Darkness, all knew about King Elessar's edict regarding the Shire, and the closing of its borders to any of the "Big Folk" of Middle Earth. Though there had been some grumbling in Bree regarding how trade was to be continued between them, most people left in Middle-earth had greeted this news with a shrug. After all, what could this small country in the far West possibly offer any of them, to make it worth the effort to even try to go there? (These attitudes would change within a few centuries, after the population of Men had grown and the countries of the East became more crowded - much to the dismay of the Halflings.)

Bird had not concerned herself too much about the edict. As she had flown West, she had convinced herself that it would be easy enough for her to visit the Shire. She need only morph to animal form when in the presence of Shire-Folk, and since she knew she intended no harm to them, felt no twinge of concience towards disobeying the king. (Well, perhaps a little, but he was so far away.)

And as for Pio? Improbable as it was that she should be spending her "time of waiting" in Suza, still; she was an Elf. No one actually believed that the edict would extend to the Elf-Folk. They would come and go through the Shire as they liked, and as they always had: secretly and quietly, taking the shortest route towards the West and the Havens. Mith, she assumed, would make arrangements for Pio to meet him outside the boundries.

So Bird was totally surprised when the first thing she saw as she arrived outside the Green Dragon was a Man. Definitely a man, old and grey-bearded, decidedly in his cups and singing a duet with a dog.

How could this be? Was this the right place? Who was this Big Folk, to sit here so blithe in the heart of the Shire, ignoring the command of good king Elessar? And where was Pio?

A sense of noble indignation came over Birdie. What kind of shady dealings were going on here? Bird had no intention of waltzing, (or flying) into this inn until she got to the bottom of this. Bird had always had what she considered to be a healthy mistrust of Men and their doings. This had only been increased since her time in the Southlands.

Choosing a sapling near the bench where the man sat, she quietly flitted over to a branch, and under cover of the surrounding dark, morphed into neeker-breeker form. Then she leapt onto the shoulder of the swaying, singing greybeard, Hiding herself under a fold of his cloak. Here she would listen unseen until such time as this man explained himself.

But outrage did not increase Birdie's stamina. She had spent many months flying cross country, and her late night in the Old Forest plus her day-long jaunt through the Shire had tired her. Once she nestled into the soft, warm folds of the man's robe, it wasn't more than five minutes before she was fast asleep.

She awoke abruptly as the man suddenly rose to his feet though, and peering out, she spied two hobbits, one on each side of the Big Folk, gently escorting him back into the Green Dragon. Bird yawned and tried to shake the grogginess from her as the smoke and lantern light of the inn partly blinded her. The party, for what occasion she knew not, was in full swing, with hobbits of all stripes and ages, male, female and children, dancing, singing, and, of course, eating. None seemed to give more than a passing glance at the Man sitting on the Bench, now tapping his feet and bounding his hand on the table.

Bird started awake as she suddenly saw Tom Bombadil and Goldberry dance across the floor! What were they doing here!? Of course, they would not technically be considered "Men", and were old friends of many of the Hobbits in Buckland, but still...

And then Bird saw her. Dressed in green and yellow, with a bright bow tying back her curls of grey and brown. Laughing and raising her cup, as if escaping from the care that she had carried with her as she marched north with her new family. It couldn't possibly be! But it was!

"CAMI!" shrieked Birdie, and as she cried the name she totally forgot to maintain her insect form. Lorien tilted to the left as a full-grown woman suddenly appeared on his shoulder and slid into his lap.

"BY THE ONE!" he cried in shock, as he leapt to his feet with the woman's arms clinging around his neck. "Whoaaaaa!" screamed Birdie as she tried to find her feet. Together the two forms crashed to the floor, and Lorien gave a great "wooof" as the weight of Bird came down square on his chest. Then he passed out.

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami rushed forward to pry Bird out of the wreckage and help her sit down on a nearby chair. The hobbit scrutinized the fallen form still sprawled under the table, and saw all her hopes evaporate with Lorien's sudden demise. She turned frantically to Bird and whispered in her ear, "What have you done? I think you've killed a Vala."

"Him?" puzzled Bird, wrinkling her brow and laughing, for she had seen more barroom brawls than Cami ever had. "Don't worry. He'll be fine. Just give him a minute. He'll come to with nothing worse than a splitting headache." She prodded the body expertly with her toe, and grinned over at her friend. "Anyways, who says that he's a Vala?

"Pio. She introduced me when he first came to the Inn. He's someone named Lorien who's the Master of Dreams and lives in a fancy garden. In fact, he's the one who brought Frodo and Bilbo back from the West to visit the Shire." She pointed over by the bar where the two hobbits were standing together and drinking.

Bird rolled her eyes, and wondered silently if she should have gotten more sleep last night. Out loud, she replied, "Cami, hold on. I can only deal with one impossible situation at a time. Forget Lorien and Bilbo and Frodo for the moment. I want to understand exactly why you're here. When did you come, and will you be staying? What happened to your other family?"

Cami shook her head sadly and shrugged her shoulders, "That's the whole problem. I can't answer any of that, except to say I woke up in the Inn several months ago and have been working for Piosenniel ever since. I don't think I'm meant to stay here, but I don't know for sure. Something in my heart says my family is alright. That's all I can say. I was hoping that he could explain some of these things." She pointed towards the silent, recumbent figure. "But it looks as if he'll be under for a while."

Bird smiled and gave Cami a hug. "Just hold on, and he'll come through. I'm sure of it."

Then Bird looked around the room for Pio, hoping that the Elf could make some sense out of this strange situation.

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

‘Look at him!’ snorted Amaranthas. ‘I always held that Men can’t hold their drink. But him! He’s worse than I ever imagined.’ She cackled gleefully at the figure of the drunken Lorien who sat propped up on his elbows at a nearby table, tapping his feet quite out of rhythm with the music.

Pio glanced at the Vala, thinking that at least he seemed quite out of commission and would not be causing any problems for the evening. She had successfully avoided him so far, and was hoping to do so until he took himself back to the Undying Lands. She smiled impishly to herself, and had just called a server over to deliver a large pitcher of the Green Dragon’s mead to Lorien, when Bird’s dramatic arrival occurred.

It was chaos and storm as usual. A grand Bird entrance, done with flair and panache. She knew her friend had probably not meant this to happen, but it was Bird’s doom to do life in a large manner. And Pio loved her for it!

Ignoring the fallen Vala, surely he was feeling no pain, considering the amount of drink he had consumed, she had had stepped over him, and sitting down next to her friend, gave her a bear hug. ‘Nice outfit! Looks good on you!’ she chuckled, brushing the lint from Lorien’s robes off it.

Bird had been astounded to find Cami at the Inn, and after her initial hug, Pio had stood by the pair, grinning like a Hobbit at the prospect of second breakfast, as they spoke to each other. Bird’s hand did not leave Cami’s arm once as they talked, thinking that if she did so Cami would prove only a figment of her weary mind and disappear.

Pio felt the touch of a hand on her own arm, as someone spoke to her.

‘Begging your pardon, Mistress Piosenniel,’ came the low voice, ‘but Cook says to tell you that the food is piping hot, and ready to be put out on the tables.’ Prim looked to where Cami and the new arrival were deep in conversation. ‘Do you think we might bring it out now, and you can get the dinner started?’ She pointed to the area of the common Room where the tables had been set up for the guests. One long table for the ‘elders’ and one for the children, with a convenient play area nearby. Prim came from a large family, and she knew that no matter how tempting the food might be, most of the younger ones would take a few bites and then want to run about.

‘Have you placed the name cards at the tables, Prim? The ones that Mistress Cami made? I know she wanted the guests seated in a certain way.’ Prim nodded her head ‘yes’, drawing Pio’s attention to the cards placed on each guest’s folded napkin. ‘Mistress Cami made some cards also for Master Tom and his wife, and also for Farmer Maggot and his.’

‘But, what shall we do with the new arrival?’ Prim asked, eyeing Bird in her outlandish costume with some distrust. ‘That is my dear friend, Bird.’ Pio laughed seeing Prim’s eyebrows rise in disbelief. ‘Let her sit at my place, across from Amaranthas. She knows Tom and Goldberry, already, and it would be quite interesting to see how she and Amaranthas take to one another.’ The two walked to where the dinner tables had been set up. Pio nodded toward the children’s table. ‘Just put me over there. I can entertain them for a while, and if the dinner becomes too insufferable we can play games to amuse ourselves.’

She hadn’t thought that Prim’s brows could rise any higher, but they did at this suggestion. ‘This is Cami’s night,’ she thought to herself, as she picked up the card from her napkin and placed it at the head of the children’s table. ‘Let her play hostess and enjoy herself among her old friends.’

Her eye caught the limp body of Lorien being carried by four of the servers back to her rooms. She had told them earlier just to put him on her bed, a bucket by his head in case his stomach rebelled at his first glorious foray into the realm of Shire spirits. ‘How inglorious an exit!’ she thought, making a mental note to give him something to settle his stomach and perhaps some willow bark tea for the impending headache when he awoke.

Pio went to the center of the room and clapped her hands together, saying in a loud voice that carried to the corners of the room:

‘Gentle guests! Cook has informed me that our dinner is now laid on the tables along the wall for us, and the casks and flagons at the drinks table have been refilled. Please gather round the tables and help yourselves. You will find cards laid on each napkin that will direct you where to sit.’

She turned, smiling, to where the children stood listening to her. ‘Come!’ she told them, waving them over with her hand. ‘You are all guests at my table. You older ones, if you will help the younger with their plates, we will go first to pick out what we want for supper.’ She overheard young Pippin wonder how much they had to eat before they could look at the dessert table.

Pio crouched down, and drew the children in close to her. ‘It is a party, you know. What say we eat dessert first?’

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Child's post

All the name cards were set in front of the plates on the tables, even those belonging to the children. The only one left was Lorien's which Cami tucked into her pocket in the unlikely event he awoke and rejoined them during dinner. Once Lorien had been hauled away to sleep off his excesses, Cami vowed to forget her worries and enjoy the evening to its fullest.

The sight of the buffet table did much to assuage her spirits. She was one of the first to bound up to it and get a close look at everything that had been set out for the guests. Cami had helped prepare many of the dishes, but even she was surprised to see the great variety of items. There were platters and bowls and baskets so loaded with food that it was spilling over onto the linen cloth.

Snap beans, field peas, fried turnips, crisp apples and pears, and an astounding array of berries shared one end of the buffet along with several meat dishes and some fresh-water fish. Among Cami's favorites were the little beef pasties and a fine haunch of venison, which sat next to a tasty suckling pig and a fat salmon stuffed with a savory dressing of herbs and onions and bread crumbs. At Cami's request, Prim had made a special tray of buttered scones with clotted cream. Sitting beside it were loaves of soda bread, pickled onions, bacon rashers, and two eel pies that boasted lovely chunks of eel and onions layered with carrots and finely chopped herbs, laid out in a golden pastry crust.

Finally came a whole array of mushroom dishes occupying almost a third of the board. There were mushrooms added to soups and stews, and others that had been stuffed and baked. And for those who preferred their fare straight and unadulterated, there were fresh, raw mushrooms from Farmer Maggot's garden.

Cami loaded up her plate with a sample of this and a bit of that and went to sit at the table. Bilbo was already seated next to her and starting in on his dinner. Frodo's name card was also nearby, but he was still in the buffet line, and likely to be there some time, as folk kept stopping by to chat.

Cami setled in her chair, then turned a beaming face towards her teacher, leaning over to share a hug and thanking him for the gown and note. Then she added, "I'll probably never wear such a fancy dress again. But it's so beautiful....I've never owned anything like this, never."

Bilbo's eyes sparkled back, and he whispered that she should only be careful not to wear the gown when Fatty was near.

"Uncle Bilbo!" she exclaimed. "I've straightened that out. Don't worry."

Bilbo glanced halfway down the table. He wasn't so sure from the look in Fatty's eye, but there was no reason to worry Cami at this point in the evening. Then he casually asked if Lorien had spoken with her. When Cami shook her head no, he politely steered their talk towards other topics. But, except for that one glitch, which she could not help but notice, Cami was thoroughly enjoying the dinner with its fine food and friendly conversation.

[ March 04, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

It was a gaggle of wide-eyed and giggling youngsters that trailed after Pio to the food table. Past the vegetables, past the meats, past the breads, and even past the platters of fried mushrooms from Farmer Maggot’s farm they went. In their hands, firmly held, were their little plates, and they kept their eyes fixed on the Elf as she led them straight to the desserts, though occasionally one would cast a quick, bold glance toward his mother to check for her approval, then look away just as quickly with a grin, thinking how fun to have gotten away with something usually forbidden.

Pio motioned a server to bring over several chairs near the table, and bade the smaller children climb up on them to get a good look at the offerings. She took the plates from their little hands, and dished up a little of whatever they pointed out. Once down on the ground, she handed them their plates, reminding them to hold it carefully, and had them wait for the others to make their choices.

Holding Goldie’s plate for her, Pio led the hungry troop back to their table. Goldie clung to the folds of Pio’s dress, her eyes fixed in anticipation on the plate of chocolate pudding with crispy nut cookies in the Elf’s hand. In her other hand, Pio had a large pitcher of cold milk, and once the children were seated, she poured each of them a little mug and one for herself as well.

Spoons in hand, the hungry bunch was about to dig in, when Pio rapped on her mug with her spoon to draw their attention. Lifting her mug, she saluted them, saying ‘Mae govannen, my new friends! Well met! Enjoy!’ Their little voices returned the salute as they raised their own mugs to her. One tiny voice, Goldie’s rang clear at the end. ‘Puddin’, cookies!’ she said in delight, a large spoonful making its careful way to her waiting mouth.

Pio looked round the table, as the Hobbit lads and lasses tucked in to their food. ‘Anyone care to share something interesting they did today?’ She munched on her plate of fruits and sugared walnuts, looking round the group expectantly . . .

[ArwenBaggins]

Elanor hesitantly lifted up her spoon of banana pudding, a pushed it slowly toward her mouth. Her big blue eyes scanned the room, especially near Pio. She put the spoon in her mouth, and dropped it onto her plate.

She swallowed her mouthful of pudding, and hastily wiped her napkin across her banana-smeared mouth. Hamfast, sitting on a wool blanket on the floor, giggled and picked up a handful of pudding. It was about to be flung at an unsuspecting guest walking by, but Elanor caught his chubby hand just in time. She whispered a word of discipline in his ear, and looked around in embarrassment.

Elanor looked around, making sure her mother wasn’t watching her. She started speaking in whispers, but just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Well, this mornin’ Momma made Frodo and I take care of the house because she didn’t feel well. She said that the baby kept her awake all night. Maybe it’s coming soon!" Hamfast pulled a lock of her curly golden hair, pulling her attention away from her mother and new sibling back to him.

[ March 03, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[Carrûn]

Frodo Gamgee remembered to clear his throat before speaking, eliminating the annoying sqeak that seemed to be creeping up on him recently.

"My sister and I had to help get everything ready. I had to give my brothers a bath; most of the water was out of the tub by the time they were finished - I think they did it on purpose." He glared towards Merry & Pippin who sat smirking over their pudding.

Returning to his own he dug in with a furvor. It was very good, and he was determined that his record would stand regardless of the competition of his siblings.

[ March 03, 2003: Message edited by: Carrûn ]

[Nurumaiel]

Angelica looked across the table at Farmer Maggot, trying to decide whether or not she should speak with him. He didn't seem to be waiting for her, which made her continue the silence which felt (to her) very uncomfortable.

It was the same way with Merimac, looking uncomfortably at Maggot's wife. I suppose it would be more like a gentlehobbit to speak first, he thought. But she doesn't really look like she wants to talk with me…

"Why did we ever come here?" Angelica breathed in her husband's ear, low enough so nobody but he would hear. "I don't know if I should say something or not…"

"Just smile," Merimac whispered back. "That's polite enough for anyone, considering that it's your smile."

Angelica blushed prettily and smiled, but then her eyes became anxious. "I do hope Fosco is behaving himself," she said louder, but not too loud, so, if the Maggots (or anyone else wanted to) they could join in the conversation. "Merimac," her voice dropped to a whisper once more, "you should have seen those looks he was giving Goldilocks."

"I didn't, but I can imagine."

"Oh, and Merimac…" Angelica's voice trailed off, and then she said to everyone, "Would you please excuse us for a moment?" She took Merimac's arm and led him away from the table. "Merimac, dear, I do hope you don't mind."

"Don't mind what?"

"Well, I agreed to be midwife for Miss Piosenn - Pio."

"The Elf?"

"Yes, darling."

"But, Angelica! An Elf?"

"And I did it of my own free will," said Angelica firmly. "Now let's get back to the table before people get suspicious." She began leading him towards the table

"Suspicious?" Merimac covered his laughter with a cough. "Angelica, dear, I do believe you're nervous."

=== === === === === === ===

Fosco finished off the last bite of his chocolate pudding, still staring across the table at the young Pippin. What a funny kid, Fosco thought, but he didn't give any reason for his thinking it.

He looked up with a huge grin when the Elf at the head of the table asked what they had done that day. The 'delicious delights,' as he described them later to his mother, had put him in a good mood, and he was all for story-telling.

"Wanna hear what I did?" he said, and continued at Pio's nod. "Well, I was out making mud pies and Prisca came out, and I threw a big mud-ball at her!"

Silence.

"What do you think of that?"

More silence.

Fosco began to scowl. What was wrong with them? He looked at Goldilocks, sitting innocently across from his elder brother. I bet she bewitched them so they can't laugh, he thought.

Pio saw the look on his face and immediately spoke up. "That's very interesting, Fosco."

"Yeah, isn't it? She just cried and cried and cried 'cause mud was in her hair and all over her dress."

"Wasn't that rather mean of you?"

Fosco glared at Elanor. "Prisca deserves all the things I throw at her, even if it's mud?"

Everyone looked towards Prisca to see what her reaction to this was, but she didn't care. Her pudgy legs dangling over the edge of her chair and her beautiful curls shining in the light, she was happily finishing off the last of her pudding.

There was even more silence. Fosco's scowl returned. He looked at Goldilocks curls, and then down at his empty pudding bowl. Suddenly a devious light came into his eyes. "Miz Elf-lady - " he stopped long enough to glare at Madoc, who had begun to laugh " - may I have some more puddin', please?"

Pio hastened to oblige him. Even if he was a nightmare most of the time, he was very sweet at some times. Unfortunately the thoughts going through his head weren't even close to sweet. His eyes turned to look at Prisca's curls as he began to eat his pudding.

And then the little girl spoke for the first time that night. What she said was directed to her brother. "Fosco, stop eating like a pig. It's very rude and disgusting."

"I'm not a pig!" said Fosco. He picked up a big spoonful of his chocolate pudding, and hurled it across the table at Prisca. It hit her directly in the face. There was a loud howl from her, and Fosco stood up, looking grimly at her hair. It was plain to see what he had in mind.

[piosenniel]

Not by chance had the children’s table been placed at some distance from the adults. Pio watched as Fosco let fly the pudding that hit his sister squarely in the face. And followed with some amusement as Prisca began to howl. It was evident to her what Fosco meant to do, and she wondered that Prisca did not take any action.

Pio put two fingers to her mouth and whistled sharply drawing the startled attention of the children. ‘Surely, Prisca,’ she said quite calmly as the little girl’s eyes fixed on hers, ‘you do not mean to sit there and howl, doing nothing while Fosco plans to rub your hair with pudding.’ Fosco smirked at his twin, knowing she was an easy victim.

‘Come here. And bring your plate of pudding with you.’ Pio motioned for Prisca to come sit with her. Fosco grinned thinking he had gotten his prissy little sister in trouble somehow. Pio sat the little girl on her lap and helped her gather up a large mound of pudding on her spoon. ‘Best to cry less and stop the problem at its source.’ She drew back the spoon in Prisca’s hands and helped her take aim. The gooey missile flew swiftly back toward Fosco, hitting him square in the forehead. His mouth flew open and he let out a surprised squawk. Only to have another blob from his brother Madoc hit him in the side of the head.

Madoc and Prisca were giggling loudly by then. Young Merry and Pippin, at first astounded at the flying pudding, began to giggle, too. Pippin flung a spoonful of pudding at Rosie, who being of tougher stuff than Prisca retaliated immediately, and with a whoop of triumph shot off two perfect hits at her younger brothers. And even Hamfast joined in, his pudgy little hands flinging handfuls of the sticky substance into the air.

Elanor and Frodo-lad looked aghast at the antics of their siblings, and would have put a firm end to it, save for the fact that Pio had by that time joined in the fun. ‘Come, girls!’ she cried, in a laughing voice, as Rosie and Prisca ran to her side. ‘I think we can take them.’ Shot after shot of pudding flew down the table at Fosco, Madoc, Merry, and Pippin. Quite by chance, Frodo-lad was hit with an errant missile, and Elanor made the mistake of laughing with glee as the sticky mess ran down his cheek, heading for his collar. Quietly and calmly he launched his own load of pudding at her, splattering it in a lovely starburst pattern on the front of her party dress.

The Great Pudding War had begun!

[mark12_30]

Cautiously, Frodo Baggins edged over to the children's table til he stood behind Elanor. He need not have worried; all the children saw him come, and would not have dared aim at him. Elanor saw the children staring and turned to see who it was.

"Oh, Mr. Frodo, sir..." she said, horrified thta he was there to witness the condition of her dress.

"If you're going to laugh, " Frodo said seriously, "then you must anticipate the consequences. Surely you see the wisdom in that?"

Elanor hung her head and blushed crimson.

"Therefore, " Frodo counselled her further with great seriousness, "You must think ahead, anticipate your adversary's response, and form a defense against it, before he has a chance to act. Strategy is very important. You must have a plan."

Elanor's eyes grew wide, and she looked back up at Mr. Frodo again. She was aware that pudding was flying in several directions, but since no-one dared hit her with Frodo right there, she had a moment extra to think. And so she carefully grasped her glass of apple cider, and then thoughtfully reached far over and-- since it was full still-- helped herself to Piosenniel's cider as well. Pio shot her an indignant glance, but Elanor stood, and faced Frodo-lad.

Piosenniel's cider washed over Frodo-lad's face, and he spluttered indignantly (although it did help rinse away some of his pudding.) In one smooth motion, Elanor put Piosenniel's glass down, and picked up her plate. She managed to grasp it by the edge and hold it up rather like a shield, and still have one hand free for her own glass of cider. So when Frodo-lad's cider came flying at her, she deflected the lion's share of it with the plate, and then launched another volley at him.

She heard Mr. Frodo's satisfied chuckle behind her, and felt immensely pleased with herself-- until Piosenniel avenged her glass of cider by grinding several gooey brownies into her hair.

"Sometimes hidden alliances are formed, and action against one may bring claims of grievance or acts of retribution from one previously considered neutral, " Frodo intoned solemnly.

"Grievance? Retribution? She stole my cider!" Pio exclaimed, in a tone of injured dignity.

Laughing, Frodo danced out of the way of a cookie aimed at his head. Mind your temper, my Lady Piosenniel, Frodo thought.

Just you wait! Piosenniel shook a cookie at him. Frodo withdrew into the company of adults again, and continued his interrupted conversation.

[ March 04, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[dragoneyes]

Diamond was watching the pudding war with a hint of horror in her eyes, thinking of all the cleaning that would have to be done once it was over. "Do you think we should go get Faramir?" she asked Pippin, who had a smile on his face, obviously remembering some similar incident he himself had had. "Certainly not!" said Pippin, "Let them be, it's not up to us to look after him for once so enjoy it while you can." Diamond saw the logic in this and tried to put it out of her mind and finish eating.

Pippin suddenly remembered something that he'd meant to talk to Merry about earlier, but it had completely slipped his mind with all the excitement of Frodo, Bilbo, Tom and everyone. He leaned forward, looking towards Merry, "Merry," he said getting his attention, "I've been meaning to talk to you about some rumours I've been hearing recently, about men crossing the borders into the Shire." Merry nodded, "Apparently they've got one in one of them in the Lockholes in Hobbiton, a particularly scruffy looking man they say he is. Have you heard, or even seen anything in Buckland?"

[ March 05, 2003: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Merry had been watching the Great Pudding War with some amusement out of the corner of his eye, since it reminded him a bit of his younger days. Buckland Hall was always a veritable beehive of raucous activity with so many burrows tucked in under a common roof. Even as a tiny hobbit, he could remember his older cousin Frodo leading a charge in the main hall with an armful of soft, ripe fruits. So it didn't surprise Merry in the slightest that Frodo would be giving out tactical advice on getting the edge on an opponent.

Pippin's pointed remarks about the undercurrent of nasty rumors quickly pulled his attention back to more serious matters. Usually, if there was any trouble headed for the Shire, Buckland was the first to hear about it. Nine times out of ten, it was some nasty business hatched in Bree or even further up the way that slipped down the Great East Road, coming first into Buckland and then the Marish or East Farthing.

Merry nodded his head in agreement, "I heard some of those rumors too, but didn't put stock in them till recently. A few days ago, my cousins Doderic and Celandine Brandybuck spoke with me. They both swore there were some strange big folk sneaking about in Buckleberry and peering into hobbit windows. That's hard for me to believe, but Doderic and his sister are trustworthy, so I can't discount what they're saying."

Merry shook his head, "Yet it just doesn't make sense! What could big folk want in the Shire? There's not a lot of jewels or fine riches, the kind of treasures you'd find in Gondor or among the Elves. But you're right to mention it to me, Pippin. We both need to keep an eye on things like that."

"I think the Shirriffs are already on the lookout," Pippin noted. "That's probably how they captured this scruffy fellow in Hobbiton."

"Now don't believe everything you hear. That could be a hobbit who laid on one too many ales who's just spreading tales," Merry retorted.

Fatty Bolger had been quietly listening to their conversation for some time, and now piped up to add his own thoughts. "If you ask me," he growled, "it's probably true. You can't trust big folk." Here he lowered his voice. "Everyone knows that. If they're so trustworthy, then why do we have a law saying they can't set foot in the Shire?"

Fatty leaned over the table conspiratorily in the direction of his two friends. "You'd best keep your voices down on this. Seems to me we've got two big folk at this party, to say nothing of this Elf whom my Aunt Amaranthas says is supposed to be married to some Man. I wouldn't trust that one as far as I could throw her." Fatty jerked his thumb in the direction of Bird. For all we know, she could be in cahoots with them."

Merry shook his head, "Fatty, I think you're seeing shadows in closets. Not every one of the big folks is a bad person. Come on now. You know that. Look at King Elessar."

"Say what you want," Fatty grumbled, "but most of them can't be trusted. Just look at what happened to me in the Locks! Better to have some Men locked up there than any more hobbits. As far as I'm concerned, they can toss that Bird lady in too, and just throw away the key."

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


Cami had been sitting quietly listening to Merry and Pippin's conversation with only half an ear. She'd been glad Pio hadn't overheard the hobbits' comments about roving big folk up to no good, as she might be worried about Mithadan who was travelling alone. It was only when Fatty Bolger started making his views known about Men, and Elves who marry Men, that Cami began to concentrate seriously on the discussion and became quite upset.

"Enough Fatty," she hissed back at him through clenched teeth. "You're my friend, but you don't know what you're talking about when you describe Bird like that!"

This was an ironic situation. Fatty would not be sitting here airing his opinions in the comfort of the Shire, if it weren't for the sacrifices of Bird and Mithadan, as well as the hard work and skilled swordplay of the Rangers down through many years. Yet he wasn't even aware of any of that.

Fatty leaned closer to Cami, like an uncle addressing a wayward child. He put his hand on her arm, and patted it gently. "No, you're the one who's confused. If you'd been in the Locks as I was, you'd see what most Men are like. Then you'd understand why we worked so hard, all of us, to get that new law passed, the one against Men setting foot in the Shire.

Cami felt a wave or irritation and dislike rise inside her head. She abruptly stood by the edge of the table, clenching her fists in a ball, knuckles white with anger. With great effort, she struggled to keep her composure, answering in a voice that was low, but icy and unflinching. "You're the one who's talking out of the side of your mouth, Fatty Bolger. There are folk in this room who aren't hobbits, yet who've given more to our people than you'll ever know. And don't tell me I can't recognize a bad man when I see him. I've known men who would make Saruman's agents look like nursemaids." She remembered back to the Tombs of Numenor.

"Anyways, whatever you call that law, it's a bad thing. There are good men and bad men, just as there are good and bad hobbits. The Shirriffs, and Thains, and Mayors, the folk in charge, should be ashamed to have suppored a law like that."

With those words of indignation, she scooped up her green skirts and stepped back from the table. "If you'll excuse me,....." she whispered to no one in particular. Then she walked purposefully towards the kitchen, opening the door to the garden, and went outside in the back.

Cami stood there a few minutes, breathing hard, and trying to catch her breath. She heard the door leading to the garden open and close again, then looked up to see Frodo staring at her with a funny look in his eye.

Cami knew she should have handled the situation differently, but she didn't want to hear that just now. "I know, I know, Frodo, I just insulted half the hobbits in that room, and they're my guests. Especially with that remark about mayors and thains. But I can't help how I feel. Wrong is wrong, and truth is truth. What kind of a hobbit goes and sticks his head inside a hole, afraid to look out and talk with anyone else who's different than himself. That's just the kind of thing that Gandalf used to hate. He always said the Free folk had to learn to cooperate." She stared at her feet in frustration.

[ March 05, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Carrûn]

Frodo-lad was somewhat surprised at how easy it was for him to decide to throw the pudding at his sister after she decided to laugh at the state of his clothes. His smirk of sastisfaction turned to a blank, stunned expression as he turned to find Elanor tilting a very large bowel of pudding over his head. Within a few seconds he had obtained a new hat and pudding was all over his hair.

He slowly removed the bowel from his head. "Hrm. I'm hungry," he commented, refilling the bowel. Turning back to his sister his grinned. "It fits you better." He proceeded to "crown" her in simliar fashion, then dodging around to a somewhat protected corner of the table, launched missiles at any who came within his aim.

[ March 05, 2003: Message edited by: Carrûn ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Elanor looked down at her blue dress, now dark brown. "Frodo!!" She said under her breath, picking up a bowl of pudding. She crept behind him with a smirk on her embarrassed face.

"Frodo! I have to tell you something!" She lied. Her brother spun around, to see a large bowl of pudding towering over his head.

Elanor giggled evilly, and raised the bowl higher. The other children paused their pudding slinging for just a moment to gawk at Elanor. She slowly turned the bowl upside down, flipping pudding all over her younger brother’s hair. She placed the bowl like a hat on his head, turning it around to get all of the pudding out of the bowl and onto his hair.

[ March 04, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[Orual]

Sam had been thinking for a while when dinner began. He snapped out of his reverie and went over to his wife, who was sitting in her chair, rocking Hamfast, who had begun to fuss. Rose smiled as he approached, and cocked her head towards the sleeping child. "Are you ready to eat?" Sam asked quietly, slipping his hands under his son to pick him up.

Rose shook her head at Sam's attempts. "I've got him. Yes, I'm ready--help me up, won't you?" She gave her husband her free arm, and he pulled her up. She staggered a little bit, then laughed. "It'll be none too soon when this child comes," she exclaimed. Hamfast woke up at that, but, rested, he simply stared around the room and did not fuss. Rose handed him to Elanor, and went with Sam to the adult table.

Once he made sure that his children were settled at the children's table, he took his own seat in between Rose and Goldberry. He couldn't help but glance over to Frodo, who was speaking with the guests around him. Rose put an hand on her husband's arm. "Torn in two," she whispered, and Sam knew immediately what she meant.

"Always," Sam replied, equally quietly, with a little smile. He gripped his wife's hand.

"Promise me that you'll talk to him after dinner's over, and stop moping," Rose murmured, picking up her fork and pretending to eat. She glanced at Sam, who was watching her not eat. "Lost my appetite," she said as an explanation.

Sam had not, though, and was enjoying the dinner, for the food if nothing else. He spoke with Pippin for a while, as well as Goldberry and Fatty Bolger, while Rose chatted with Diamond and glanced once or twice at the children's table. Suddenly she gave a hoot of laughter, loud enough to make Sam and several of the other guests close to them to turn and look. She pointed to the children's table, and Sam grinned at the lovely mess that was taking place. At least his children were having fun.

"Cleaning up tonight won't be fun," he warned Rose.

"I know that," she said. "But they're having a good time. Let children be children."

Sam shook his head, amused and bewildered, as Elanor poured a bowl full of pudding on her brother's head. "What a party," he said.

[Rose Cotton]

Watching the pudding fight was very entertaining to Rosie who for a moment was content eating her pudding rather then tossing it. That was until two globs of it hurdled into her from Merry and Pippin. Rosie made two exellent shots back to her brothers and was officialy brought into the fray.

Hurridly she grabed her plate and went to Pio and Prisca's side where they flung pudding at the boys.

As Rosie's ammo ran low she cast her eyes about for a new weapon. Sitting peacefully back at the dessert table was an apple pie. Grabbing it she flung the entire pie at Frodo. However, Frodo had seen the dessert coming and had ducked in time for it to strike Elanor. Rosie went into a fit of giggles at the sight of her sister dripping with apples.

[mark12_30]

"Once, long ago, I told Gandalf that I used to think an invasion of dragons or an earthquake would be good for the Shire, " Frodo reminisced. "At the time I was beginning to realise that I was going to have to leave it. "

Cami waited, knowing the story, bracing herself for a lecture. Yes, yes, Saruman's men had acted like dragons, and had torn up the trees like an earthquake or worse. She wished for patience.

"And then I did leave it, " Frodo said. "And Cami, so did you."

"Yes, " Cami snapped. "I went to Minas Tirith, where I learned that not all men breathe fire and devour trees."

"It's a beautiful city. And a nice place to hold a wedding." Frodo put his hands in his pockets, and glanced out the window towards Bag End. "Such a beautiful wedding."

Cami watched him from under her eyelashes, waiting.

"And such a strange wedding. A day of joy, and sacrifice. A day of gladness, tinged with parting, and division of families-- forever. Almost like a twisting of time, for Elrond and Arwen."

Cami could not bring herself to feel sorry for Arwen. "She got what she wanted."

Frodo nodded, with an odd twinkle in his eye. "She did." Then he sobered. "But it has been hard on Elrond, and on Galadriel. And it was harder still, I think, on Celebrian."

"Celebrian?"

"Yes. She waited four centuries over the sea for her family to join her, and when Elrond finally came, he brought the news that Arwen would never come." Frodo looked down. "I had never-- well, it surprised me."

"What?"

"I had never seen Elrond weep until the day he gave Celebrian the news."

Cami stirred impatiently. Elrond was reunited with Celebrian; his daughter was happy in her marriage and Elrond should be happy about that. Cami shoved such thoughts aside, and returned to the gossip at hand. "Frodo, it angers me deeply that the Shire wants all big folk to stay away. Big folk have saved the Shire from so many perils. Couldn't they at least be grateful?"

"I know what you mean, " Frodo sighed. "And yet, Cami, isn't it partly to protect their innocence, that so many have fought so hard?"

"Innocence is one thing, and narrow-mindedness and ungratefulness is another, " Cami growled.

"Did it seem narrow-minded when you lived here?"

"Yes! Whenever somebody criticised Bilbo."

"You loyal friend."

"I try to be, " Cami replied heatedly. "And that's why I feel so strongly about defending the Big Folk who have done so much for me, so very much. And for the whole Shire."

"For a while, they were your family, weren't they; and The Lonely Star was your home. Before that, your home was in Minas Tirith. And you made a home of sorts in Ladros, and even in the Numenorean caves. And now you've made a home in Greenwood. Years of wandering with a few rests, and settling in foreign countries as best you can; you're even more uprooted than I am, " Frodo said, and met her eyes. "Where is your heart, Cami? What place does your heart call home?"

Don't ask me, Cami thought resentfully. Don't you dare ask me. It's not where, it's when and with whom; and every time I think I've closed the wound some meddling busybody pries it open again; leave me alone!

Still gazing deep into her eyes, Frodo nodded. "I thought so. Cami, I know in a way what that is like. My home is with Bilbo, however I feel torn apart from Sam and Merry and Pippin. And I spent years, long years separated from him, Cami, wanting to find him again more than anything. In that way Bilbo is my home, and not The Shire."

"I have children to look after, " Cami said defiantly. "I have Rose, and Gamba and the boys."

"Yes, I know, " Frodo replied. "But what I asked you was, where your heart calls home. And I think that answer is a little different."

Several defiant replies fought for position in Cami's mind, but Frodo gently turned, and left.

As he was walking back to the common room, he placed one last thought in Cami's mind. "Amdir and Estel are two different things, Cami; Estel is higher. Of the two, it may be the more difficult flower to grow, but it is the sweeter, and the longer lasting. It tells us that all things are bent towards the Music, and in the end, the harmony will be clear."

Cami went to the window after Frodo had left, and stared out of it towards the West. Harmony.

This is harmony? she asked. I can't make out a single note. It sounds like mere noise.

[ March 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had returned to the party, cautiously peering about to make sure that Sam and Meriadoc and Peregrine and Fatty weren't waiting for her with a broom or, more likely, some very sharp comments. But as Cami walked in back of their chairs, none of them gave any indication that they were upset with her in the slightest. In fact, Fatty came over and patted her affectionately on the back, inquiring solicitously about her health. They were apparently taking her words as no more than an eccentric response from someone who'd been absent from the Shire too long.

Sitting down at the table, Cami found herself watching the children's food-fight with a mild sense of discomfort. Why should that be? Maybe because she was still upset about the encounter with Fatty and the whole question about prohibiting Men from the Shire? Even Frodo had extended his blessing of approval to the childrens' antics. Merry and Pippin were staring intently with grins of remembrance plastered on their faces, while Bilbo basically ignored the fracas, shutting out the sight and sound of the little ones by concentrating on his dinner plate.

And then it hit her. She was from a different place where wasting food was an unthinkable thing to do. She'd lived in camps, with hobbit prisoners reduced to eating whatever they could lay their hands on, especially with the snows of winter. Even now, in Greenwood, it was a challenge to gather the food she needed to fill her children's stomachs. No one starved, yet there were times when the soup in dinner pots looked thin and watery.

She wondered how her own children would have responded to the food-fight. Little Maura and Ban would probably wade into the fray and hurl pudding with abandon. But the new Gamba, flanked by his boys and perhaps even Rose, would not have participated or approved. They would have pulled their younger siblings over, or perhaps even tried to intercede and halt the mayhem.

Banana pudding? There were no bananas where she lived, and no dwarf caravans to bear such delicacies from the south. Party clothes? If a child was fortunate enough to own a fancy dress or breeches, they would have done everything possible to keep it clean, since it was basically irreplacable and would need to be passed on to younger siblings and cousins.

And Maura? Her Maura? How would he have felt? As a stranger in someone else's territory, he probably wouldn't have tried to stop things, but neither did Cami think he would have approved. Yet she was not absolutely certain. That thought burned her heart. The Maura in her head might have changed a good deal since she'd left him and she'd have no way of knowing that.

There was, however, one thing about which she was perfectly sure. With his love of the Edain, Maura would have pulled Fatty privately aside and attepted to talk sense into him. Nor would Maura have liked the new law prohibiting Men from entering the Shire.

Indeed, if Maura had ever met Mithadan, Cami thought he would have instinctively respected his quiet compassion and wry humor. Maura would probably have felt more comfortable with Mithadan than with a hobbit like Fatty who had few dealings with Men or Elves and instinctively distrusted them. Cami knew many hobbits in the Shire were still suspicious of anyone who was different, a fact which she was coming to regret.

[ March 05, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Birdland]

Bird sat, surrounded by Hobbits, a smile frozen on her face as a pudding missile sailed past her ear and splatted on the bar front. The bench she sat on was Halfling sized, a comfortable seat for Farmer Maggot and the tiny gammer seated across from her, but Birdie's knees were folded up practically under her chin, and she had to bend around them to reach her plate or goblet. She had not asked for a higher chair, feeling that to do so would in some way draw attention to her (relative) height, and make her stand out.

But it was not the size of the bench that made Bird's shoulders tense. She was acutely aware that she was breaking the very laws of the Shire by being here, and from the covert looks that were being shot at her from the round, middle-aged Halfling to her left, others were aware of it as well.

Bird knew it was only by the grace of Cami and Pio that she was sitting here, and that the Halflings - though small and known for their light-heartedness - could be formidable when it came to protecting their borders from "outsiders". Bird had not forgotten Lindo and Maura at the seige of Gondolin, and her usually sharp tongue was held in firm check as the children's arsenal expanded into the cider and frumenty.

She studiously ignored the hissed whispers being flung back and forth across the table, and was trying to concentrate on her plate, but the sharp, black eye of the tiny halfing in front of her, (Amarante? Emeranta?), caught her attention. The skinchanger raised her wine glass and nodded across the table to the matriarch. "Your children are quite charming, and seem to be enjoying the party throughly. Are any of these your grandchildren?"

Amaranthas gave a loud snort "Hah! These brats? I'd not claim a one of them. You'd never see children of my generation, those who lived through the Fell Winter, wasting food in such a manner."

Then quick as lightening, Amaranthas stood up and lobbed a grape swiftly across the room, clipping Frodo-Lad soundly on the ear. Then she sat down again and whispered across to Bird; "Of course, the Fell Winter was quite a few years back."

Birdie threw back her head and laughed out loud, drawing another disgruntled look from Fatty Bolger.

[ March 05, 2003: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[piosenniel]

The floor was awash with pudding. Chocolate and vanilla ran amok between the stickier blobs of tapioca. Pio had crouched down, rather ungracefully, near a particularly treacherous area where Goldie had lost her footing and plunged down onto her chubby, dimpled knees. The little lass’ face had puckered up, and she was on the verge of a wail, when Pio reached down and stood her upright.

‘Look here, Goldie,’ the Elf said, scraping a bit of tapioca from Goldie’s knee, ‘this looks exactly like little frog eyes, does it not?’ Goldie hiccupped, with a long, wavering intake of breath, and turned her attention to the bumpy fragment of cream colored goo. She reached her chubby little finger out and tentatively touched the translucent bubbles clustered in the blob. ‘Froggies!’ she cried in delight, clinging onto Pio’s sleeve for support. ‘And look here, Goldie. I believe I have discovered another interesting use for pudding.’

Pio reached down and placed the flat of her palms in the pudding smears – one in the chocolate and one in the vanilla, then carefully printed the pudding hands onto the fabric of her dress. Placed palms together and fingers outspread, the imprints took on the tenuous shapes of brown and white butterflies. She helped the little one place her baby flutter-bys trailing after her own big one.

‘Pretty Pio!’ laughed Goldie, clapping her hands together, sending spatters of brown and white flying.

They had done just one little butterfly on Goldie’s dress, when Pio felt a looming presence behind her, and a discrete, but firm, ‘Ahem!’ Wiping her hands on the edge of her skirts, she stood up, turning to face a very exasperated looking Prim, with several wide-eyed servers behind her.

‘Was there something I might do for you?’ she asked the Innkeeper.

Prim looked at her sternly, fixing her with the same gaze she had given her younger brothers and sisters when they had done wrong. Pio wiped a bit of chocolate from her face with the back of her hand, leaving a large smear on her cheek. She waited patiently for the lecture she was sure to ensue.

Prim’s shoulders began to shake, and an odd sound, like the squeaking of little mice at play began. She put her hands on her knees and bent over double, then, and loud guffaws began to roll hysterically from her. The servers looked at her in astonishment, not knowing if the sea of now crusting pudding had pushed her quite over the edge. Prim stood up, shaking her head, an amused smile on her face.

‘Oh, Mistress Piosenniel! I never expected such behavior from one of the Fair Folk.’ Prim turned to Ruby and Buttercup, who now stood at her side. ‘Get the mops and buckets, and a few rags. Let’s get this mess cleared up before it dries hard as paste.’ She glanced up at Pio, a calculating look in her eye. ‘I’m certain Miz Pio will have a little extra something for you, for cleaning up after these rascals’ antics.’

Pio grinned back at her, and nodded her head at the two reluctant servers. ‘Five silver pennies each if this corner is spic and span, and six more to split among you, if one of you will see Cook and bring to my rooms a heaping platter of hot buttered toast fingers, a pot of strawberry jam, and a pitcher of cold milk to wash it down with . . . oh, and an apple or three or four, too, please!’

She counted noses as they headed back to the room. Ten sticky children trailed after her. Pio held up her hand to stop them, and counted them again. There was one missing! Pippin and Diamond’s son was nowhere to be seen. ‘Any one seen young Faramir?’ she asked her bedraggled troop. Ten sticky faces, eyes wide, shook their heads solemnly ‘no’.

Hamfast, held securely, in Elanor’s arms, wiggled vigorously and pointed back toward the table. Elanor put him down and he toddled over to the long tablecloth that hung begrimed over the sides and end of the table. He picked up the end of the cloth and bent down, looking for something under the table. They heard his screech of delight, and the muffled sounds of someone saying ‘Peek-a-boo!’

Then out from his safe haven came young Faramir, as clean as when he had first sat down to eat his pudding. His empty bowl was in his hand, and a nut cookie dangled from his lips, as he stood up and faced the others. ‘I gather it’s safe now,’ he said, taking the cookie from his mouth, and smiling impishly.

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

‘Excellent choice of tactics, Master Faramir!’ Pio looked down at her own dress and sighed. ‘Perhaps I should look to you next time the battle fever is upon us!’ Faramir puffed with pride at this adulation from the Elf, and when she asked him would he go to Miz Prim and ask for a stack of towels, he ran like the wind to do her bidding.

Boys and girls were separated into two groups, and the girls, under the direction of Elanor and Rosie were sent into the bathroom to clean themselves as best they could, and wipe what they could from their dresses. The ‘men’ as Pio called them would follow her out to the stable yard and use the pump to sluice off their hands and heads. ‘Young, hardy warriors,’ she termed them, ‘washing off in the waterfall of some eastern river after a valiant fight against the orcs.’ Young Merry and Pippin snickered at the thought of their sisters as orcs, as Faramir pumped the water for them. And Pio reminded them that from the girls’ point of view, the boys were the marauding orcs who had been defeated by them. ‘It’s all a matter of which side you are coming from.’ she said, as she toweled Pippin’s hair dry. Faramir laughed, agreeing with her. ‘From where I sat,’ he said, ‘you all looked like mad orcs!’

Soon a more presentable group of children was gathered in Pio’s front room. Toast fingers piled high with jam and washed down with milk were eagerly consumed, as Pio dragged out her souvenirs of the adventurous life for them to handle and look at and ask curious questions of where she had gotten each one. There were shells of all sizes from the shores along the Sundering Sea, and curious necklaces and pendants, and feathers dropped by birds never seen in the Shire. The old yellowed tooth of a great wolf of the North, was handled quite carefully as Pio told the story of finding it. And rocks, beautiful rocks and plain, all with their different stories of how they came to be in the Elf’s possession.

Frodo-lad, along with the other boys, and Rosie-lass, too, were thrilled when Pio brought out her weapons. Wrapped in a piece of oiled leather was her sword and scabbard, and in a small chest, gleaming in the lamplight as she opened it were her silvered helm, and mithril shirt. She let them all try on her vambraces, and heft the sword, though it took three of them to lift the point from off the ground. Each of them handled her long knives, pretending they were Hobbit sized swords, and Frodo-lad she let strap on her throwing knives to his arms. The only things she shifted from their sight were the two cords, the garrotes – too gruesome, she deemed them, for children to think on.

Finally, when all had been looked at and oohed and aahed over, and sleepy eyes and yawns were becoming the norm, she laid out several quilts in front of the small, cheery blaze in the fireplace and bade them lie down as she told them stories from long, long ago. Backlit by starlight from the open window behind her, her voice moved softly over them, and one by one, from youngest to oldest they closed their eyes and slipped off to their own dreams.

She sat quietly in the dark until their parents came to claim them, and a smile lit her features as she looked out the window and imagined a small island, under a bright moon, sleeping forms turning in dreams much as these Hobbits here. And over them all, her eye lovingly upon them, the great dragon of the mountain top sat crooning, softly.

[ March 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Farmer Maggot and the Missus were the first to leave, saying it was a long way back to the Marish, and they’d best be getting themselves and Fang home before the night was completely past. Cami offered them a room at the Inn, so that they could start out tomorrow morning, rested. But they both declined, saying they’d sleep much better in their own bed, under their own roof. They made the rounds, saying good bye to the people they’d met just that evening and to Merry and Pippin and to Fatty. Then to Sam and Frodo and last of all Bilbo. ‘I don’t know how long you’ll be staying,’ he said to Frodo, clapping him on the back, ‘but I’ll have one of my boys come round in the next day or so and deliver a basket of mushrooms.’ They climbed aboard their wagon, settling Fang in comfortably on an old blanket between them, and with one last wave they were off down the Great East Road.

Tom and Goldberry followed close behind them. It was not often, or ever, that they left the borders of their country, and they would not tarry longer here than needed. Their footsteps were light as they hurried East, toward the Old Forest, and the overhanging hill brow of the Downs where the Withywindle bubbled down in falls.

For a long while, their voices could be heard, drifting back on the night breezes to the Inn. Tom’s merry voice rang out, lightening the hearts of all who listened:

Hey! Come merry dol! derry dol! and merry-o,
Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry-o!
Poor old Willow-man, you tuck your roots away!
Tom's in a hurry now. Evening will follow day.
Tom's going home home again water-lilies bringing.
Hey! come derry dol! Can you hear me singing?

Then Goldberry’s voice followed, weaving in the next verse, as clear and clean as a Spring freshet follows the melting snow:

Hop along, my little friends, up the Withywindle!
Tom's going on ahead candles for to kindle.
Down west sinks the Sun: soon you will be groping.
When the night-shadows fall, then the door will open,
Out of the window-panes light will twinkle yellow.
Fear no alder black! Heed no hoary willow!
Fear neither root nor bough! Tom goes on before you.
Hey now! merry dol! We'll be waiting for you!

Fatty Bolger said his goodbyes to his dear friends, and especially to Cami, reminding her that she was more than welcome to bring her friends and visit in Budgeford any time. Then he too was off, along the Water to Bridgefields in the Eastfarthing.

The Muddyfoots picked up their sleeping trio from Pio’s rooms, and said their whispered good byes to her, Angelica promising that she would get together soon with Miz Pio to make plans, and that she would bring Peony with her. ‘Amaranthas,’ offered Merimac to the elder Hobbit who now stood at Pio’s side, ‘would you like to ride home with us? We can see you safely to your door.’ Pio smiled, and thanked Merimac for the kind offer, but she had made arrangements for Miz Amaranthas to stay with her tonight, and she would take her back home tomorrow.

Amaranthas took Angelica aside as Pio spoke with Merimac, saying how glad she was that Angelica had decided to be midwife. She surprised Angelica no end, then, by inviting her to come round some afternoon and have some tea and seed cake with her.

Having said their farewells, Pippin and Diamond retrieved the sleeping Faramir, and turned their cart westward toward Tuckburough, and the Great Smials. Merry and Estella waved to them as they parted company on the main roadway, after extracting promises from them, that they would bring Faramir and come for a long visit soon. ‘And Pip,’ cried Merry, just as his friend flicked the reins and headed off, ‘remember to bring those new chapters you’ve worked up to the “Tale of Years”. I’ve found some new information on Tar-Minyatur that you’ll find interesting.’

Sam and his Rose were the last ones to go. Sam and Pio carried the sleeping Gamgees to the cart and nestled them in like peas in a pod. Hamfast was handed up to Rose, and bundled in a warm blanket for the ride home. Pio promised she would come up to Bag End for a visit, and Sam lingered, speaking with Frodo and Bilbo, before climbing up to the seat beside his wife. He was loath to go, but Rose needed to go home to rest, and with a certain reluctance, he turned his wagon westward and headed toward Hill Lane and the Hill.

[piosenniel]

The others had gone to bed. Amaranthas was tucked into the spare room in Pio’s quarters, a down quilt pulled up to her chin despite the warmth of the summer evening. “My old joints need to be kept warm if I don’t want them freezing up on me.’ was what she had told Pio when she requested extra covers. Her head had barely touched the pillow when the old dear’s eyelids fluttered heavily and she turned to her side and fell fast asleep.

That left the front room, with a couch and two mattresses on the floor, for the repose of Pio and Bird, as Lorien continued to sleep soundly and loudly in Pio’s bed. ‘Who knew the Vala snored?’ said Pio, as Bird raised her eyebrows at one particularly loud series of snorts and half gasps issuing from behind the closed door.

‘Shall we check on him?’ asked Bird. ‘Be my guest,’ returned the Elf, ‘I am going out to the bar to retrieve a bottle of something interesting to drink. Shall I bring two glasses?’

‘Make that three glasses, and a couple of bottles, Pio.’ came the weary voice of Cami just pushing the door open. She flopped down on one of the mattresses, her feet toward the fire, and her back resting against the couch. She looked toward the closed door to Pio’s bedroom. ‘I don’t suppose there is any chance he’s awake, and able to answer questions, is there?’

‘You and Bird see to him, maybe he has come round. Drag him out here if you want, we can sit and watch for him to waken while we kill a bottle or two and catch up with each other . . .’

[Child of the 7th Age]

The Vala was still asleep. However, it was a kind of sleep that didn’t look very restful. Instead of lying still, Lorien was twitching and flipping, with occasional grunts and groans, his eyelids fluttering spasmodically but never completely pulling open. Was it possible for the Master of Dreams to be a victim of his own visions? Cami wasn't sure, but she was curious. She nudged Bird and asked, “Do you think we could drag him over?”

“ Probably so. He may be restless, but he’ll be out for a while.”

Working together, they managed to wiggle the mattress off the bed with some difficulty, tugging it awkwardly along the floor. Lorien slept on, oblivious to the fact that his sleeping mat was moving. He eventually fell off the mattress, so they left him dumped in the corner of the room, then sat down to share a glass of wine and talk. It was the first time that Cami had been able to say anything to Bird, beyond the fleeting words they’d exchanged when she flew in through the window. The women sat on the floor and chatted, emptying out two wine bottles, and spending a good deal of time laughing.

This had gone on for nearly two hours. Then, Pio and Bird began discussing things they’d uncovered from their early researches on the shapechangers. Cami found it difficult to follow the complicated ins and outs, and, too tired to listen closely, retreated over to where Lorien slept. Cami stared at him and distastefully wrinkled her nose. The evening hadn't turned out to be quite as memorable as she had hoped. Cami felt that much of the blame for this should go to Lorien. She'd spent half the party trying to wheedle answers out of him, and the other half in a foul mood worrying about a variety of things. There had been a few nice moments in between when she'd talked with friends and ate dinner. Still, she might have been less upset if Lorien hadn't left her hanging.

“Pio, do you think it’s alright if I try and wake him? I’d like to know what he wanted to tell me.”

The Elf looked up and shrugged her shoulders, “Suit yourself. But I doubt you’ll have much luck.”

Cami felt a strong urge to lean over the sleeping Vala and yell as loudly as she could into one of his ears. She resisted this temptation and began tapping him on the arm. This did not accomplish anything, so she tried gently shaking his shoulders, and finally resorted to punching him in the ribcage. But there was still no response from the sleeper. Desperate and grouchy, and tired to the point of exhaustion, Cami leaned directly over his body and shrieked at the top of her lungs, "Lorien, Lorien, you said you had something to tell me. It's Cami. Please wake up!

[ March 05, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Mithadan]

Lorien's eyes opened wide suddenly and he sat up quickly, which proved to be unwise. He shut his eyes tight and swayed for a moment, steadying himself against a chair with his hands. Then, with a grimace, he opened one eye slowly and peered at Cami. "Must you shout?" he asked weakly.

He shook his head as Pio rushed over with a cup of tea poured from a pot which had been resting on a table. Lorien accepted the cup gratefully, missing it on his first attempt to grasp it, and took a long sip. Then he attempted unsuccessfully to stand. Embarrassed, he said, "It seems that this body is not obeying my wishes at the moment. Would you please help me up?"

The three grasped him firmly and helped him into a chair. The Vala sank into the cushions with a groan and held his head in his hands. "What happened?" he moaned. "I recall that charming party and the savory drinks that Mistress Prim was serving. And I recall Tom and...pardon me for a moment. I just remembered something." He closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate. Then he smiled impishly and turned back to Cami and her friends...

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

Fatty Bolger lay fast asleep in his feather bed, exhausted by the long evening. Then his eyes fluttered under their lids and his tossed and turned a bit as the dream came to him.

He was in the Green Dragon again and there was another party taking place. Everyone he knew was there, including his long-departed parents and grandparents. They were laughing and singing with mugs of beer in their hands. His mother, who looked well for one who had died eight years earlier, came over and kissed him. "A blessing on your head, Fatty!" Others shouted congratulations, and his grandfather, dead nearly 30 years, came over and shook his hand. "You could certainly do much worse, lad. Cami Goodchild is a fine lass indeed!"

Fatty sat back smiling broadly in satisfaction. So he had prevailed and she had agreed to marry him. Lucky lass. He lifted a mug and took a long draught as his friends and family cheered. Then suddenly all grew silent. His father squinted at the door which had just swung open, letting in a dank mist. "What Hobbit is this? Could it be...?" The hairs on the back of Fatty's neck stood up as his guests backed away from the dark figure that had entered. It advanced until the light from the fire illuminated its face, which was not nearly as well preserved as that of his mother, as well as a deep bloody gash across its belly.

The guests began whispering a name frantically. "Hob Fields! Its Hob Fields!" Hob shambled over to stand swaying before the horrified Fatty. He bent over until his face was inches from the Bolger's and, with charnal breath, began to speak. "What is this about you marrying my wife? How could you do this to your friend and neighbor Hob Fields?" Fatty shook his head and tried to slip off the chair sideways to escape the mouldering figure, to no avail. Hob grasped Fatty's hands in a steel grip and continued. "If you marry Cami Goodchild, I'll give you three weeks. And when three weeks are out..." Hob let go of Fatty's hands and rose to his full height. His eyes began to glow a dull red and blood oozed from his gash. Hoarse pants punctuated his words as he continued. "...I'll come to you by night...and I'll take you by your throat...AND..."

Fatty woke up screaming...

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

Lorien's smile grew broader. "That should do it," he chuckled. Cami blinked in confusion. Lorien did not seem to be speaking to any of them. Then he appeared to return to the present and looked down at the Hobbit. "So, why did you wake me, little one? What could be so important that you couldn't let me suffer in peace?"

Cami looked up at the kindly face, then took note of the bloodshot eyes. It was difficult to believe that this was one of the Valar sitting on the chair before her. For a moment, she felt sorry that she had woken him, but the moment passed quickly. "You were beginning to tell me why I had been brought here when we were...interrupted."

Lorien winced and rubbed his temples again. "I don't know how Olorin managed to stay in one of these bodies so long. They can be so uncomfortable." Then he focused upon Cami again. "You don't know? Didn't Bilbo tell you?" Cami shook her head impatiently. Lorien laughed, then grimaced again. "Well, I suppose we haven't been here long yet. Bilbo asked for this."

"I was brought here just to see Bilbo?" asked Cami.

"Yes. No!" the Vala shook his head and nearly toppled with the effort. "He was concerned for you. He felt that you had done great deeds, which you did, but that you had suffered a wound and had not found healing like Frodo did."

Cami's eyes narrowed. "I suffered no wound. None that has not healed at any rate." Bird, standing behind Lorien, rolled her eyes, brought a finger to her temple and made a circular motion with it.

"Not a wound from a knife or blade," reponded Lorien irritably. "Not that kind."

"Then what?" shouted Cami, her patience dissolved by weariness and frustration.

Lorien's mouth dropped open and his eyes snapped shut at the outburst. "If he's fallen asleep again, I'll slap him silly," growled Bird. The Vala's eyes opened again, slowly, and he turned to glare at Bird. "Next time you fall asleep on the shoulder of some Southron and he decides to swat you, I won't wake you, if you don't stay civil," snapped Lorien. Then he turned back to Cami.

"Your wound is from Beleriand," he said. "You suffered there greatly and the one ray of hope which you had was snatched away when you returned unselfishly to the Lonely Star to complete your task. That was a great sacrifice. That is the wound which we will heal."

Cami shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand," she cried, with tears of frustration welling up in her eyes.

Lorien smiled at the Hobbit. "I'm sorry," he said. "I do not communicate well with words. I'm not really used to it I suppose. Maura. We're bringing him here...for a time...so that you can be together. So that the two of you may marry if you wish, though you cannot be together in your future or his..."

[ March 05, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Elanor laid on her back in the cart, with Goldi on one side, asleep, and Rosie on the other, staring into space, almost asleep. The pony trotted along, and she could here her father and mother talking at the head.

She stared at the stars, watching them twinkle. A soft snore came from her little Rosie, now peacefully asleep. She couldn’t see her brothers moving at the end of the cart, but she didn’t know if they were asleep, or plotting some unknown terror and havoc. Her eyes started to get heavy, but she was jolted by the breath of Goldi down her neck.

Elanor sighed, wiping her sleepy eyes. She heard her father humming a familiar Hobbit poem, and she whispered the words to herself:
Ents the earth-born, old as mountains,
the wide-walkers, water drinking;
and hungry as hunters, the Hobbit children,
the laughing-folk, the little people,
they shall remain friends as long as leaves are renewed.

Sleepiness overtook her, and she fell asleep, with the wagon rolling peacefully along.

[ March 05, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[mark12_30]

Frodo looked out a window, hands in pockets, and watched Sam's wagon pull steadily up The Hill towards Bag End. He had successfully avoided invading Sam's current life and weighing him down, but he still felt uneasy and torn, and wished heartily that he could have gone deeper with his old friend. Tentatively, he reached out towards the cart as it lumbered along. He closed his eyes, and a soft smile lit his face.

Little Elanor-- not little any more; tall young lady Elanor-- had just slipped into a dream. He began to withdraw, not wanting to interfere with her dream in any way; but he smiled as he did so. He had seen enough to know that in her dream Elanor was an elven princess in warrior's garb returning victorious from a great battle with orcs.

Frodo smiled. He did not think she would find many orcs to battle; but he thought she would rise to the occasion whenever a contest of wills came her way.

"Looking after Sam?" Bilbo asked him drowsily.

"Well, yes, " Frodo replied absently, coming back to the Inn.

"I wonder why you didn't plan a visit, " Bilbo remonstrated softly.

Frodo looked back up The Hill. "Perhaps I'll go for a walk in the morning, if there's time." Perhaps I can be a help and not a hindrance, Frodo thought, if I can take a few of the children out walking with me, and give their parents some peace.

[piosenniel]

Orual's Post

The stars twinkled comfortingly overhead as Sam guided the pony and cart home, humming softly to himself. Rose was nearly asleep beside him, and all of his children were quiet in the back, having worn themselves out in the Great Pudding War. He glanced back and saw Ellie lying on her back, Goldilocks and Rosie-lass asleep by her, and the boys all either asleep or too quiet for Sam to know the difference. What a night it had been. All of the children left the Inn covered in pudding but quite jolly, and the parents had all resigned themselves to a bit of cleaning up afterwards, but none considered that price too steep for a lovely evening.

"...fun, Sam?"

"What?" Sam turned at his wife's half-heard query. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were weary and she had to fight to keep them open.

"Did you have fun tonight?" she repeated, resting her head on his shoulder. Hamfast was sleeping on his mother's lap, his chest rising and falling gently as Rose stroked his curls.

"Oh, yes, very much," Sam said, and didn't meet his wife's eyes. He had enjoyed talking with Cami, that was true...and it was nice to see Merry and Pippin again...and it was certainly wonderful to see his children having fun, and most especially seeing Elanor meet Frodo.

"I'm so glad that you talked to Frodo before we left," Rose murmured, beginning to fall asleep. "It will be so nice for the two of you to be able to really talk again, and don't think I didn't see how awkward you both were at the beginning of the party..."

Sam smiled a little as Rose trailed off. He pulled off of the road and sat her up straighter, putting Hamfast on a blanket in the back next to Rosie-lass. He then climbed back into his seat and continued on the way home.

Rose was so sure that he talked with Frodo after the party--and he did, in the most literal sense of the word. But they hadn't actually said anything. It had been more of the sort of talk that strangers used with each other..."My, Elanor's grown." "Nearly thirteen now, she's quite the little mother--helps Rose with the children all the time, without ever being asked. We couldn't do without her!" "She's quite the young lady now. She's very beautiful...I imagine that you need a stick at all times to beat off the lads." "Oh, yes, she has lots of would-be suitors, but she's got enough sense not to let them too close. She's very good about that."

Come to think of it, most of the talk had been about Elanor. Sam looked at the now-sleeping girl. Her lovely face, framed by her golden locks, was peaceful and content. Once again Sam found himself envying his eldest daughter, and once again he immediately pushed the feeling away.

Perhaps Frodo would come by Bag End, and then they could talk. Really talk, without the pressure of prying eyes, maybe even take a long walk through the Shire, away from everyone, and truly get reacquainted.

Or maybe they wouldn't.

Just don't let this chance go by, or you'll always regret it." Merry's words came back to Sam in a rush, and he winced. He would regret it, he knew, if Frodo left again and they had not truly spoken. Because though Sam did not fully understand how or why Frodo and Bilbo were back in the Shire, he was sure that they would not come again. This would be the last time that he would see Frodo in Middle-earth, of that he had no doubt. Perhaps what Frodo had said when he left for the West had been correct, and someday Sam would join him there, but that would not be for many, many years. Surely it would not be until all of his children were grown, and he and Rose had no plans of stopping at eight--as he had said in his letter to his sister, they were shooting for thirteen. So if he did not speak to Frodo now, another chance would not come for years, perhaps ever again. He resolved to talk to Frodo, really and truly, before he left.

He stopped the cart as they arrived at Bag End, and gently woke Rose. He helped her out of the cart and they brought the children in, washed the little ones, and sent them all to bed. Rose put Hamfast back to sleep while Sam read to the older children from the Red Book. When they were both done they returned to the living room, and Rose pretended to faint onto the couch.

"What a day this has been," she sighed. "The children had fun, though, and so did I. It was nice to talk with Diamond--though she is a bit stuffy, don't you suppose? She didn't seem to approve of the children's pudding fight. I thought it was funny, if a bit tough to clean up after--I don't envy Cami and Piosenniel the mess they'll have to deal with at the Inn. I should have offered to help, but I was so tired I'd probably only make a bigger mess than there was to start with! I think I ought to see if I can help tomorrow, though. Even Cami and Pio must sleep, and I imagine they'll let the mess sit until the morning. I know I would."

Sam was only half-listening to Rose's talk, and she was only half-listening herself. "I'd wait until the morning myself, as well, but for now it's time for bed. Shall I carry you?"

Rose laughed. "What a lucky lass I am. No, you don't have to carry me, but I wouldn't say no to an arm to lean on. I'm tired myself--let's turn in for the night."

Sam didn't respond, but led her to bed, then climbed in himself. Rose was quickly asleep, but Sam stayed awake long after, thinking on the night's happenings, and resolving to meet with Frodo at least once before he left.

[ March 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]