In the Shadow of the Star: Part 1

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bilbo and Sam had been setting out a number of simple, hearty dishes that had been prepared earlier that day as well as untapping the barrel of ale that Prim had supplied for them. Bilbo was genuinely looking forward to an evening of conversation and wild tales, and hoped that things would be a bit more relaxed than the earlier party that had taken place in the Inn.

"It's a pity Maura can't come. I've gotten to know him while staying at the Dragon. He's not a bad sort at all. A bit quiet, but relaxed and good natured once you sit down and talk with him. But he and Cami were determined to get away and, with everything that's been hapening, I can't say I blame them."

Sam nodded, "Yes, it might have been nice, but I must say I'm looking forward to having just the five of us together, the way it used to be in old times."

"I did tried to ask Fatty," Bilbo noted, "but when he heard Cami was still in the Shire, he got a horrified look on his face, and said it would have to wait."

Sam looked over and laughed, "Hmm, whatever Cami did to chase him away seems to have worked quite well."

At that moment, a hobbit mounted the steps and tugged down on the bell chain. Bilbo quickly went over and threw open the door.

[dragoneyes]

Pippin rushed towards Bag End, eager not to be the last one there. He also wanted to spend as much time as he could get with his friends while they were still around. At last he came onto Bagshot row, he tried to urge his pony to sprint the home strait, but only managed a fast trot. He reached the gate and tied up his pony. He noted that Merry's cart was nowhere in sight and, with a slight smile on his face, he walked up the garden path towards the rounded, green door of Bag End. He stopped to admire a particularly lovely patch of flowers but then hurried on to the door. He pulled the bell chain and almost immediately the door was flung open.

"Hello Bilbo!" said Pippin cheerfully.

"Welcome Pippin, do come in." Said Bilbo. Pippin stepped into the warmth of the hole, he took off his coat and hung it up on a peg. He turned towards the other two and greeted them in his same, cheerful manner. Soon enough voices filled the rooms of Bag End.

[ March 23, 2003: Message edited by: dragoneyes ]

[theWhiteLady]

theWhiteLady's post

Rose Goodchild spent a most pleasant afternoon playing with baby Azra and catching up with Ban and Zira. Abar interjected with interesting tidbits and often made them laugh at his silly stories. Towards the end of their conversation, Rose brought up the marriage of Cami and Maura.

“Cami has been very busy in Greenwood, what with raising the boys and helping the hobbits in every way; she is greatly respected by all and her judgment is given great regard in all matters. Still, I don’t think she is quite happy. At least, she is not joyful. Not like I’ve seen her today. I could scarcely believe my eyes when they laid on Maura and, of course, you all as well! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Cami’s eyes dance with such delight; they seemed fairly overflowing with happiness. But there is sorrow too.” Rose crinkled her nose in frustration and her forehead creased. “It isn’t fair! Poor Cami, after all she has done! I’m still not perfectly sure I understand everything, but I’m afraid she will pay dearly for this short time she has with Maura.”

Zira’s eyes filled with tears and she gave her young friend a kind hug. “I know, it’s not fair at all. But they have been given a great gift, thanks to Bilbo and Gandalf and that funny man, Lorien , I think. Maura has also been busy, but he can not hide his love for Cami, nor the pain that it has caused both of them. It is strange, and terrible, that such a strong emotion can cause so much sadness as well as joy. This meeting may indeed be bittersweet for them, but as their friends, we should try to make the sweet outweigh the bitter. Some things cannot be helped and it is not our part to change them. Perhaps it will all turn out better than we expect, however. We never know what the future might hold for any of us.”

Azra squirmed in Rose’s arms as Zira wiped away her tears and they hugged once more. Even Ban was blinking rapidly, but he tried to hide it by fussing gruffly at Abar for snatching a warm biscuit from the kitchens.

A few moments later, Pio walked in on the three of them laughing as Azra bopped Abar firmly on the nose. She hurried them off to get ready for Amaranthas’ party and a short time later, they all piled into the inn’s trusty cart.

Pio's post

The two ponies stamped their feet and tossed their manes in an indignant manner. Their evening routine had been disrupted. A nosebag of oats, a gentle brushing, and then tucked into their fresh stalls and left to the scent of sweet straw and the comfort of an old blanket - that was what they expected to happen when Hob strode into the stable. But here instead they found themselves fed quickly, then led out and harnessed to the wagon.

Rose, with Azra in her arms, and Abar were the first to come tumbling out from the Inn, excited to be going somewhere for the evening. They talked over the stories Pio had told them earlier about Amaranthas, and both agreed that she was pulling their legs with exaggerations. The two stood scratching the noses of the ponies as they waited for the adults to appear, and pelted Hob with questions. Hob only smiled when they asked if Amaranthas was as fierce as Pio said, and cautioned them that she did not tolerate ‘woolly pated fools’ well, if at all. And yes, in her younger days she had been known to lay into thick-headed Hobbits who bothered her with her sharp tongue and her heavy stick. Eyes wide, Rose and Abar looked at each other reconsidering their estimation of the Old Dragon.

Ban, Zira, and Pio were the next to come out of the Inn. ‘I’ll sit in back with Rose, Azra, and Abar,’ offered Ban. ‘You two ladies sit up on the seat.’ Hob handed up Zira, and then Pio to the driver’s seat. ‘You sure now you don’t want me to drive?’ he offered, as Pio took the reins.

‘That won’t be necessary. I’ll take the reins.’

Pio grinned and held out a hand to Mithadan, to steady him as he clambered up to the seat. He gave her a wink as he settled in and took the reins from her, ‘I decided I didn’t want to spend the evening looking at the walls of the common room. Besides,’ he looked back at Ban, nodding to him, ‘I couldn’t leave Ban to be the only male at the party!’

‘Whatever the reason,’ murmured Pio as they headed down the lane, ‘I am delighted you will be with me.’

theWhiteLady's post

Pio, with a mischievous glint in her eye, entertained them all with frightening tales of their host; tales which the listeners only half believed. The bright garden surrounding Amaranthas’ home certainly did not look anything like the lair of the Dragon Pio described and Rose mounted the steps, still holding Azra, and knocked confidently on the door.

[ March 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As twilight fell over Bag-end, Bilbo urged Pippin to join him near the fire, pulling out a pouch of pipeweed. Once they had each taken a handful, Pippin passed it on to Frodo and Sam so they could share some and tamp it into their pipes. Soon the air was filled with great smokerings, floating in all directions, as the dinner guests tried to outdo each other with the size and elaborateness of their creations. There was a great deal of laughing and friendly competition as smokering after smokering floated by.

"Good job, Frodo!" Bilbo watched a particularly impressive ring take flight and slip out an open window into the cool evening air of the Shire.

"We're still missing Merry," Frodo observed.

"I know he's reached Bywater," Sam added, "but I think he stopped first in the market. He should be here shortly."

There were a good number of questions the hobbits from the Shire wanted to ask Bilbo and Frodo, but had been reluctant to do so in the noise and bussle of the Inn. Here, in the cozy warmth of Bag-end, questions spilled out more naturally.

Pippin began by asking Bilbo, "Do you have pipeweed in the West?"

"Yes, fortunately. Gandalf is alway bringing over some. I've no idea where he gets it, but it probably grows there somewhere. It seems that most things do."

"Gandalf?" Sam's eyes lit up with memories of a kindly wizard from whom he'd learned a great deal. "You see Gandalf?"

Bilbo nodded, "He visits quite often. He comes over to Tol Eressea from Nienna's household. It does my old bones good to see his face and hear his voice. He's been a good friend. Once he learned Frodo and I were to journey here, he made us promise we'd bring greetings, and say how much he missed the folk in the Shire."

"Aye, we miss him too," Pippin responded.

Then Sam asked, "Is Tol Eressea home, Bilbo? Or is home still in the Shire?"

Bilbo leaned back in his chair and sighed. "That's hard to say. A little of one and a little of the other, and even a little of Rivendell. You forget, but I was there seventeen years."

"I miss the people in the Shire, and all the gossip, and the goings on. But there are things I love about the West. I can get books, and hear tales about the Elves. It's even more special than Rivendell with all the songs and ballads and things to learn. My Sindarin has improved, and I've even picked up some Quenyan. Frodo keeps nudging me to try osanwe, and I can do it in a pinch, but it still doesn't feel right."

As Bilbo talked, Frodo softly tugged on Sam's arm and led him outside. "I wanted to talk with you, Sam. It's important."

"Remember how, when I left, I said you must live a long time in the Shire and feel as if you weren't torn in two different directions? I hoped that would happen, and I think it has. Your life is full and rich with your wife and children and all the doings in the Shire. But, in the evening, when it's peaceful and quiet, does a tiny piece of you ever hear the sound of the Sea in your head and wonder if someday you'll see it yourself?"

Frodo hesitated, then went on with the real question he'd wanted to ask, ever since coming to the Shire. Without realizing what he was doing, Frodo felt his thoughts reach out towards his friend. I have missed you terribly. Even with all the beauty of the West, there's still a piece missing. I guess if I'm truthful with myself I want to know and believe that you and Rose are happy and content, but that a little part of you still misses me and wishes we could be together. Frodo looked up startled. He had not meant for that to happen, but now that it had, he almost felt relieved.

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Orual]

The party had been going nicely, much to Sam's relief and satisfaction. It was nice to be among his friends again, the friends that he had shared so much with. And, though he wouldn't admit it even to himself, the best part was that he was pulling it all off without Rose.

Sam, Pippin, Bilbo, and Frodo were all there, reminiscing and finally talking about Tol Eressea instead of the Shire. Sam finally felt comfortable enough to ask questions about it. While Bilbo was answering one of them, Frodo slipped behind Sam and, tugging on Sam's arm, brought him outside, saying, "I wanted to talk with you, Sam. It's important."

"Sure, Mr. Frodo," Sam said, a little puzzled. What was going on? "Is something wrong?" he asked.

Frodo shook his head. They stood outside for a moment, in the night air. It was a cool night, calm, with just a little bit of a breeze. The stars shone brightly overhead, and there were hardly any clouds to obscure them, or the brilliant moon. Then Frodo began to speak, asking a question that Sam had thought about many times over the past twelve years. "...does a tiny piece of you ever hear the sound of the Sea in your head and wonder if someday you'll see it yourself?" Frodo finished.

Sam was silent for a long moment. It wasn't an easy question. He loved his life in the Shire, with Rose and the children. He loved being the mayor, with all of the duties and responsibilities that the title carried. He loved living in Hobbiton, in Bag End, reading and watching his children grow. But sometimes he would go out with the boys--and the girls, if they wished--and they would camp, and sometimes, when the went out far enough, Sam could hear the whisper of the sea in the air. Just a whisper, and when he paid too much mind to it he couldn't hear it anymore, so that he wondered if he'd ever truly heard it at all. But if he heard it, he'd hardly be able to sleep, thinking about the sea. He'd only seen it once, but he still saw it in his dreams at night.

He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off when he heard, not with his ears, but with his mind, I have missed you terribly. Even with all the beauty of the West, there's still a piece missing. I guess if I'm truthful with myself I want to know and believe that you and Rose are happy and content, but that a little part of you still misses me and wishes we could be together.

Sam stood still for a moment, as the breeze passed over him. Was this the same speech that Galadriel had used in Lothlórien, all those years ago? Frodo was speaking to his mind, as Galadriel had done? He saw Frodo look up, seeming surprised, and he smiled a little. It hadn't been intentional, and now Frodo was waiting for Sam's reaction, which had been negative in Lothlórien. But not so this time.

"I do wish that, Mr. Frodo," Sam finally replied. "All the time. And though I would wish that you were perfectly happy in the West, I have to admit that I'm glad to hear that you missed me, because I missed you. The children will tell you that most of the stories I tell are about you. And I am happy here in the Shire, with Rose and the children, but I do get that aching that you were talking about, for the sea. But it isn't really for the sea, Mr. Frodo. It's for the West, and to see you again. And it makes me feel better that you feel the same way."

[ March 23, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Dishes, food, and clothes were scattered haphazardly about the burrow as Maura and Cami finished their supper and gazed out the window that stood facing the pool. A full moon beamed down on the pond and the surrounding foliage, outlining the small burrow that Cami had chosen to be their own.

Everything was peacefully quiet. The only sounds heard were a few frogs croaking their nightime melodies and a lonely neekerbreeker weaving its counterpoint into the song. Cami wondered if the neekerbreeker could possibly be Bird, but thought it unlikely.

She knew that only a few guests were left at the Inn. Most had departed for Bag-end or to the dinner party that Amaranthas was giving. Last minute invitations had even been found for Zira and her family, and Cami's daughter Rose who had recenty arrived in the Shire.

Maura extended his hand to Cami and gently guided her to the simple pallet that lay on the floor in front of the hearth. The two snuggled close, their hands clasped together, tickling one another with their toes.

"I love you, Cami Goodchild," Maura whispered softly into her ear, as Cami reached up and slipped her arms comfortably about his shoulders. The two hobbits nestled close, with Cami's small heart thumping wildly. For a very long time, neither of them moved, afraid to break the spell of intimacy and moonlight that seemed to be flooding into the burrow.

Cami stared intently at this hobbit whom she cherished more than any other in the world, and then asked, "Do you know the words to say?"

"Yes, don't worry. We recite the promises in the morning, as the sun rises."

"Your own parents did this?"

Maura laughed, "Yes, and every other hobbit in Beleriand. Enough talking, Cami." He reached out eagerly towards her soft form and drew her ever closer, their arms and legs intertwined. Then, with no prior warning, Cami suddenly pulled back to her side of the mat and sat straight up, with a puzzled expression spilling over her face.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Shh! Listen." She reached out and tugged Maura into a sitting position, placing her hand on his knee and cautioning him to remain silent.

For half a minute, nothing happened. Then a series of caterwauls split the air, loud and insistent wails. Instantaneously, Maura's eyes met Cami's, the two hobbits' jaws dropping open as they shoved open the door and rushed out of the burrow in the direction of the crying. Lying in the water, directly before them, was a large wicker basket, such as a Stoor might use to float a young child in a tranquil pond.

"By the One, what is this?" Maura intoned in disbelief.

"A little one," Cami chirped in.

"That I can see." Maua looked puzzled as he pushed through the reeds at the edge of the pond, intending to retrieve the small boat and its occupant. He drew the large wicker basket out of the waters and handed it directly to his wife.

Cami lifted up the coverlet, and took a peek inside, "It's a girl. A Stoor, I think. About two-years old. Perhaps she's lost her mother. We'd best run to Bag-end and tell Sam to find her parents."

"I don't think so. Look at her clothes." Maura took the young lass into his arms to look at her more closely. She was still howling miserably. He leaned over and let his mind float and merge with hers, searching through the images that the child had seen. He cradled the toddler in his arms, pressed his lips to her brown curls, and placed her back on Cami's lap.

The two hobbits were talking loudly to make themselves heard above the child's ever growing racket. "I can't be sure of everything. But she's from Greenwood. Someone placed her outside your door. Then Lorien's dream pulled her here wth us."

"But who did that? Who brought her to me? And why?" Cami countered.

Maura shook his head as he looked down into the child's small face, "I'm not sure. But I can guess why. They wanted someone with a soft heart to take her in." Maura hesitated a moment, then continued. "This place where you live, are there Orcs?"

"Orcs? No!" Cami shuddered slightly. "I haven't seen an Orc since I left Beleriand." Maura said nothing but wondered, since he'd had a clear glimpse in the child's mind of her mother and father hewn down by great Orc blades.

The hobbits took turns walking with the young lass, improvising a sling made with some cloth torn from Cami's petticoat. It was over an hour later when the little one finally fell asleep, after a whole string of hobbit and Elvish lullabyes and three cups of milk that had been left over from supper. After tucking the lass into the basket, Cami tugged insistently at Maura's arm. They made their way back to the pallet, intending to take up where they'd last left off. Maura clasped his arms gently about Cami, as she gradually relaxed and moved in closer. Then suddenly, from nowhere, another loud and even more discordant noise began to grate against their ears.

A look of horror flashed over Maura's face as he put his hand on his brow and sat up groaning, "Oh, dear! Cami, I forgot to tell you."

[piosenniel]

"Oh, dear! Cami, I forgot to tell you." The words brought some small comfort as Cami tried to imagine what was going on. ‘Well, if Maura knew about this, it can’t be burglars or ruffians!’

Cami and Maura rushed to the window of their snug hole and looked out into the darkness. A large group of figures was moving toward them. Torches and lanterns were held high in the hands of some, and many were banging on pots and pans with metal spoons. Sheep bells were clanging. Horns were blaring, as several old campaigners from the Great War had been enlisted by Bird to add their noise to the general clamor. A number of the patrons at the Inn who were fond of Mistress Piosenniel’s friend had also joined the shivaree, bringing several bottles of wine and mead to be shared by all once they reached their target.

It was Lindo and his group on one flank and Gamba with his brothers on the other who led the way, grins wreathing their faces. They brought the group to stand round the Bywater Pool residence and increased the noisy tumult.

Bird had scrounged about and found the makings of two fine fireworks. ‘Nothing as good as Ancalimon’s,’ she had muttered to herself as she put them together. ‘But they’ll have to do.’

Cries of ‘Bring out the bride!’ and ‘Show us the newly hitched couple’ rang out, and several of the merry makers pounded on the door with the chant. The group stepped back as the door slowly opened, and out walked Maura leading Cami by the hand. A great cry of celebration rose up amidst the clatter of pots and pans and the blaring of horns, and Bird shot up her fireworks in a great blaze of reds and blues and yellows and greens.

Bird raised her hands in a prearranged signal, and the contingents from Tol Fuin and Greenwood brought out a great, sturdy blanket onto which the couple was tumbled by others of the crowd and tossed up into the air several times, to the great cheers of those watching. They were set gently down, and Bird stepped forward, quieting the crowd with her hands.

‘Pio wanted to be here, but couldn’t. So she’s sent me to sing this song to you.’ Bird cleared her throat, letting her lovely voice rise up:

Over the mountains
And over the waves,
Under the fountains
And under the graves,
Under floods that are deepest,
Which Ulmo obey
Over rocks which are steepest,
Love will find out the way.

Where there is no place
For the glow-worm to lie,
Where there is no space
For receipt of a fly,
Where the gnat dares not venture,
Lest herself fast she lay,
But if Love comes, he’ll enter,
And will find out the way.

O! you may esteem him
A child for his might,
Or you may then deem him
A coward in flight.
But if she, whom Love honors,
Be concealed from the day
Set a thousand guards on her,
Love will find out the way.

Some think to lose him
And keep him confined
Some do suppose him,
Poor thing, to be blind;
But if e'er so close ye wall him,
Do the best that you may,
Blind Love, so ye call him,
Will find out his way.

You may train the eagle
To stoop to your fist.
You may try to inveigle
The Phoenix of the east.
The lioness, you may move her
To give o'er her prey;
But you'll ne'er stop a lover;
He will find out his way.

Once done, she grinned at the calf-eyed couple, and prodded Maura with her hand. ‘Have the Missus bring out cups and mugs. We’ve brought the drink to share. And all this singing and hootin’ and hollerin’ has parched old Birdie’s throat!’

They cry went up for drinks and soon the cups and mugs were passed round and the couple toasted. Someone started up an old song as Maura and Cami were encircled and congratulated by one and all.

Ho ro my nut-brown maiden,
Hee ree my nut-brown maiden,
Ho ro ro maiden,
For she's the maid for me

Her eye so mildly beaming,
Her look so frank and free,
In waking or in dreaming,
Is evermore with me. . .

Cami and Maura, eyes gleaming and fixed on their well wishers, did not see the small group of young ones who slipped in the door to the hole. They hid the couple’s few belongings, switched sugar and salt in their containers, tied knots in clothes, and put some tiny stick babies between the sheets of the bed. Bird was with them to make sure they did their quota of mischief to the new couple.

She was just peeking into a basket with a blanket in it, when she saw the blanket move, and a great caterwauling sound came forth from the depths. Bird picked the wiggling Hobbit child up and held it at arms length. Out the door of the hole she walked, carrying the screeching little one. Her eyes were glinting merrily and a grin split her face as she held the red-faced child out to Cami.

‘A kid, already?!’ she laughed gleefully . . .

[ March 21, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Amaranthas opened the door wide as Rose knocked. Her wrinkled face was wreathed with a wide welcoming smile as she ushered them all into her house with a warm greeting. ‘Miz Pio, you know the way out back. Miz Rose and her brood are already here and playing on the lawn. She’ll be happy for the company. Make the introductions, if you will. I’ll be along in a moment.’

Mithadan and Ban made to follow the others out, but the old Hobbit barred their way with her cane, and asked them to give her a hand. ‘In the wagon, wrapped in those thick blankets is a small cask of ale from the Inn. Mithadan if you’ll haul that in, and Ban if you’ll take out the small cask of fresh pressed cider there by the back door, then we can wet our whistles and toast to new friends. And soon after, lay into the delicious food Cook has sent for us.’

[ March 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Elanor slowly put down the last plate on the table, covered with a plaid tablecloth. Goldi was standing next to her, tugging on her light blue dress.

"What now Goldi?" the small hobbit lass lifted her chubby finger, showing a fresh cut. Elanor picked her up carefully and placed her on the table.

"’Lemme see." Elanor looked at the cut, apparently made by grass. "Aww. It’s Ok. Shhh.."

Goldilocks started to cry, and Elanor tried to not cause to much attention. "Shhh… Here," She dabbed the blood off of the chubby finger. Elanor picked up a carrot, and gave it to Goldi. "Just don’t let Mama see it, Ok?" Goldi nodded, and jumped from the table joining a game of Hide and Seek.

Elanor smiled and turned, seeing that Pio and Rose Goodchild had arrived. She ran off toward the door, ready to greet anyone.

Pio's post

‘Elanor, so good to see you again!’ Pio gave the surprised girl a quick hug, and then brought forth Rose Goodchild and Abar who entered behind her. ‘These are my two friends who have come from a distance to visit me and Cami. This is Rose Goodchild, Cami’s adopted daughter. And this young man is Abar. Since they do not know anyone here, I was hoping you would introduce them around for me.’

‘Oh, Miz Pio, I would love to do that!’ Elanor took the two by the hand and led them out to the back yard to meet the other children. Abar soon joined in the games with the other younger children, and Elanor drew the older girl aside to sit beside her and talk.

She found Rose to be quite intriguing, and urged her on to share stories of her adventures. Her eyes grew round when Rose told her some of how she had met Pio and some of the adventures they had shared together, though Rose edited her telling quite closely, knowing she could not share all the facts of what had gone on. Elanor, in turn, told Rose of her Father’s history and shared with her what daily life was like in the Gamgee family. And, of course, there was the inevitable discussion of the merits of the various Hobbit lads in the vicinity. Rose, being the older of the two, gave her wise comments on each of the young lads, and Elanor nodded solemnly at her assessments.

Pio, coming out into the back yard, smiled at the sight of the young ladies sitting, heads close together, deep in discussion of matters of importance.

[ March 24, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami looked over, half blushing at the meaning of Bird's words but still glaring at her friend for having disturbed the sleeping child who was now squawking loudly.

"We're not rabbits you know!" she retorted, jabbing Bird in the ribs. "Despite what you've heard from the big folk." Then Cami explained how she and Maura had found the little one, and the few things they'd been able to glean by tracing the images in her mind.

Cami finally managed to shoo the youngsters out of the burrow, straighten the place to her satisfaction, and say her thanks to her own sons as well as to Bird and Prim and their other well-wishers. As the group waved goodbye and vanished over the hill, Maura came over, a bit red faced, and slipped his arm around Cami's waist.

Cami whispered back good naturedly, "Now I know why some hobbits keep their wedding plans secret!"

Maura turned to her, smiling, "You're a good sport. I didn't think you'd mind the racket, and Gamba seemed genuinely pleased to help. I purposely told them to come late. What I didn't count on was this little one being here, and pushing everything else even later."

Cami leaned her head back on Maura's shoulder and chuckled. "It's all right. I'll remember this in years to come. It will make a good tale. But now, we have a problem."

Cami nodded towards the squawling two-year old. She tried coaxing the tiny lass to settle down with a cup of milk or a bedtime story, but all her efforts met with stubborn resistence and howls of "NO!" Then she noticed the girl tugging insistently at her earlobe.

"Look, Maura. She's in pain. I wish I had my herbs with me. But let's try something else."

Cami scurried out the door with the youngster toddling behind. She climbed into the hammock that Maura had strung up between two trees earlier in the day. The girl snuggled close to Cami, and, as Maura swung the hammock, the howls lessened and subsided.

Maura bent down to look. The two were fast asleep in each other's arms. How strangely tranquil Cami looked as she lay in the moonlight with her brown curls scattered over the pillow, intermingled with those of the child. Maura tenderly stroked her hair, gazing up at the starry sky and whispering a thanks for the warmth and love he could feel radiating from her quiet form. He noiselessly slipped into the hammock, pulled his wife closer to him, and within a few moments had fallen asleep. All around them, the sounds of the pond still filled the night, with a passel of frogs and a loney neekerbreeker continuing on with their wistful lullabye.

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

At the wishes of Amaranthas, it seemed, daylight lingered long into the evening. The children had eaten quickly, wanting to get back to their games of tag, and Blind Man’s Bluff, and Hide and Seek with its calls of ‘All-y, All-y, Oxen Free’. Mithadan, Merimac and Ban were recruited for a hastily planned game of Hobbits and Trolls. Giggles and screeches of delight rent the evening air as the youngsters eluded the grasps of the dim-witted, lumbering trolls. And in the end there were ‘oomphs’ and gasps and finally deep laughs as the ‘trolls’ were attacked by the doughty band of Hobbits and subdued.

Once the sun had set, Frodo-lad, with Elanor and Rose lit the candle lanterns, and games turned to story telling. The lure of fireflies drew the younger ones from the story circle, and they ran happily beneath the trees with jars supplied from Amaranthas’ pantry, following the winged lights.

[ March 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nurumaiel]

Nurumaiel's post

Angelica held Prisca tightly in her arms and Madoc held Fosco. "Where's Dad?" Madoc groaned. "Fosco is getting heavier."

"Don't let him go," Angelica warned. "If you do, I'll make you clean up whatever mess he makes. Hold him. I'm going to find your father." She heard the screeches and giggles of children coming from a few feet away, and suddenly Fosco came whizzing by, screaming loudly.

"Sorry, Mum," said Madoc. "I couldn't hold him any longer."

"Well, go find him, lad," said Angelica, sitting down on the grass and leaning back. "Go find him."

"Yes, Mum." Madoc hurried off towards the crowd of hobbits.

Angelica leaned back, still holding Prisca, and stared up at the sky, which was darkening to evening. "When is the last time I went to so many parties at once?" she asked herself quietly, closing her eyes. She wasn't expecting an answer, but one came.

"When all the young hobbit lads in the Shire were courting you," a voice above her said.

Angelica opened her eyes and stared upwards to see Peony Muddyfoot grinning down at her. Sitting up, Angelica scowled at her. "I told you to come here early so we could talk with Pio," she said. "No doubt the party will end soon."

"There's still time," said Peony. "And if there isn't, we can always meet again some other time. I mainly wanted to see you again, Angelica." She smiled down at Prisca. "And your little ones," she added, picking the young hobbit girl up.

"Well, let's see if we can find Pio. I'm anxious to have her meet you."

"You seem worried about this little 'job.'"

"If I seem worried, Peony, it's because of one thing: I am worried. I'll be glad to have you by my side when the day comes."

And the two went off to find Pio.

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

Pio's post

'Miz Pio! Miz Pio! Throw it back, please.’ Little Goldi clapped her hands and pointed to the little striped ball that had rolled to the edge of Pio’s chair.

‘Oof! Easier said than done!’ Pio bent down carefully trying to keep in balance and retrieved the escapee. ‘Here it comes! Get ready.’ She rolled the ball quickly toward the toddler and her playmate, Prisca. Goldi scooped up the ball in her chubby little hands and went running off, Prisca laughing after her.

Rising back up, Pio noted Angelica making her way toward her, with someone in tow. ‘Who is that?’ she whispered to Amaranthas, nodding her head toward the two approaching ladies. ‘That other woman with Angelica.’ Amaranthas leaned near. ‘That’s your other midwive, I do believe.’

Fosco had run up to his mother and engaged her in the settling of some dispute, and so the advance of the two women toward Pio had halted for the moment.

‘Tell me a little about her.’ Pio watched the other woman with Angelica crouch down to speak with the angry three year old. She was calm, and let him speak his piece; then, spoke softly with him, until his anger was defused. Pio watched as he nodded his head, then walked off looking somewhat satisfied.

The woman, she learned, was Peony Mudfoot, thirty-eight years old, and the youngest sister to Merimac. ‘Never been married and said she never means to,’ added Amaranthas, ‘Though it is my opinion that if the right man asked her she would.’

When Merimac had moved from Michel Delving to Hobbiton with Angelica, Peony had also moved. She lived in her own hole there, and had a family who boarded with her – Bingo and Belladonna Tussock, originally from Longbottom. These boarders had been a source of some contention between Angelica and Peony, as Angelica refused to leave her children with her sister-in-law, believing that the Tussock children had taught Fosco some rather bad habits.

Peony had been the midwife for Angelica when she had Madoc and for Melilot Tunnelly, and done an excellent job at getting those two through their birthings. The old Hobbit went on to tell how Peony was an admirable Hobbit lass in her opinion. Calm and confident, was how she described her. Outspoken at times, but very kind. ‘Got a good head on her shoulders, that one does,’ said Amaranthas in approval. ‘She’ll make a good balance to Angelica.’

Pio raised her eyebrows at this statement. ‘Oh, mind you now,’ Amaranthas went on, ‘Angelica is very good at midwiving. She’s just wound a little tight at times, and comes off as the nervous type. All I’m saying is that Peony will keep her a little more focused and calm.’

‘Ah!’ Pio turned her head from Amaranthas, and smiled as the two ladies approached. ‘Nice to see that you and your family could come, Angelica.’ She smiled warmly at Peony. ‘And who is this charming lady that I have yet to meet. Please introduce us.’

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

Pio was thoroughly charmed by Peony. After the initial fascination had worn off for her that she was to be midwife to an Elf, the Hobbit’s level headedness shone through. She took it for granted that Pio, being a first time mother and none too knowledgeable concerning birthing and all that it entailed, would have many questions, and she opened the doorway in a matter of fact way for the Elf to ask. Pio found herself easily drawn out by her. Her confidence in Peony grew by leaps and bounds as she asked questions or discussed reasons for doing things one way rather than another. By the end of their conversation, Pio was feeling quite confident that Peony was indeed an excellent choice for the job.

Mithadan had wandered over, the games done with the children. Pio watched Peony’s eyes grow wide at the sight of the man, seating himself by the Elf and holding her hand in his. She could almost read the Hobbit’s opinion of Men written on her face. ‘ . . . a bother, and unimportant . . .’

Pio held back a laugh and introduced Mithadan to the unimpressed Hobbit. Peony nodded at him, and he, in turn, was as gracious and charming as he could be. He engaged her in conversation, and Peony found her opinion of him going up somewhat.


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

Nurumaiel's post

"Raaar!" Fosco shouted, charging at his father. "I am going to beat you trolls! I am a super tough hobbit!"

"Who are you?" Elanor asked.

Fosco stared in horror, and then ran to his father. "Daddy, who am I?" he asked.

"Well… how about Frodo?" Merimac suggested.

"I am Frodo!" Fosco roared.

"No, I'm Frodo!" Frodo-lad protested.

Fosco plopped down and began to think. Then he stood up, a huge grin on his face. Glaring at the trolls once more, he shouted, "I am my Daddy! He's the toughest Daddy of all! Raaar!" Running up to Mithadan, he scowled furiously and said in a deep voice, "You won't hurt my family, you big ugly troll! I am too tough for that!"

Madoc was shaking with laughter and brushing tears from his eyes. His brother sometimes!

The troll game ended with the grand victory of the stalwart band of little hobbits. The sky had grown dark, and then story-telling began. Fosco told the story of how he, Merimac Muddyfoot, had defeated all the trolls and saved the Shire. As he demonstrated on his father how he killed the trolls, a firefly passed right in front of his face.

"Oh ho!" he cried, standing up and watching the firefly disappear in the distance. "Dragons, eh? Well, I shall stop them from burning the Shire!" And with that he toddled after them, still screaming their doom.

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

Bill Ferny crouched low underneath the window at Bag End, a cruel expression on his face. He had just come from the Pony at Bree, where he had heard from some Hobbits a rumor saying Frodo Baggins was back in the Shire.

A hobbit stepped into the room. Bill strained his eyes, and then his face seem to twist up. There was no mistaking it: There stood Frodo Baggins, once more in the Shire.

"It was a mistake for you to come back, Baggins," Bill hissed. "You will regret it."

And then Bilbo came into the room. Bill could catch some words of a conversation. Bilbo moved towards the window. Cursing under his breath, Bill darted away, hiding behind a bush in the garden. Looking back at the window, he saw Bilbo staring out, a suspicious look on his face. Then the old hobbit turned away from the window. Bill jumped the low fence and ran down the road, his mind already working as to how he could get his revenge.

As he passed one hole, he heard the sound of merry-making and the delighted laughter of children. He slowed down to a walk, and his eyes narrowed as he saw a little boy come running towards the road, screaming at a firefly.

"Young hobbit!" Bill said, taking the cruel expression off his face. "Come here for a moment."

Fosco stopped chasing the firefly and stared at the man. "What do you want?" he asked. "Are you here for the party, too?"

"No," said Bill, smiling at him. "But I wish I were. Sounds like lots of fun. To tell the truth, I was invited, but I was too busy to come."

"You were at the Bag End party?"

"The… Oh, yes, I was. I got invited to two parties, and I decided I should go see my old friend - " Bill grinned cruelly " - Frodo Baggins. But I'm hear to ask if there were any more friends of good old Frodo here?"

"Yes," said Fosco. "My mummy is a friend of Frodo. She's related to him, actually. I think she's like his cousin or something. And then there are all Sam's kids here. Sam is a friend of Frodo. Did you see Sam at the Bag End party?"

"Oh, yes, yes, I did. Are there any other friends of Frodo here?"

"Why don't you go find out?" Fosco asked, suddenly suspicious.

"I would, lad, but I'm in a great hurry, and I've no time to go running there and ask every person I see if they're a friend of Frodo."

"Oh. That makes sense, I guess… Well, I think that Pio-Elf that Mummy always talks to is a friend of Frodo. Guess what? She's having twins soon. I have a twin, you know. Her name is Prisca, but she's terrible. I hope that Pio-Elf gets twins that are both like me."

Bill grinned wickedly. "Thank you, lad. That's all I wanted to know."

"You look like a troll, too!" said Fosco, suddenly excited. He ran towards Bill and gave him a good kick. "I am my Daddy the Mighty and I defeat all the trolls!"

"Fosco? Fosco Muddyfoot, are you there?" a voice called. "Don't go near the road."

Bill ran down the road, limping slightly from the kick. A plan had formed in his mind. I'll have my revenge, Frodo Baggins… and on you too, Fosco Muddyfoot.

[ March 24, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Child's post

Shortly after Merry's arrival, the group sat down to enjoy their meal. There was a great deal of joshing and laughing, with Sam insisting that Bilbo preside at the head of the table and do the honors of carving the roast. It took only one invitation to persuade the elderly hobbit to take his accustomed spot.

Bilbo laughed at the foolishness of it all, saying it had been a good thirty years since he'd had dinner in the comfort of Bag-end. Still, he seemed to take considerable satisfaction from thinking back on those days, and seeing the younger ones sitting in their usual places.

Frodo was chatting with Pippin about some plan they'd concocted that involved wandering down to the old fishing hole the next day to try out their luck. Pippin was to stay in the guest bedroom for just one night. Miz Rose would be sure and hold them to their promise of catching fish to fix for lunch.

Near the end of dinner, Sam rose to offer a toast, "To friends, wherever we wander, however distant our roads lead, let's not forget each other and the good times we've had." There was a hearty round of applause as the hobbits quaffed a final flagon and pushed back their chairs from the table. Sam cleared off the dishes, being careful to sweep out the sitting room so that Miz Rose would not have any bother after she arrived home.

Frodo walked up to Sam to help and, as they washed and dried the dishes, he casually noted, "It must be hard on Rose now, with so much to do in the house, and another one on the way."

Sam nodded in agreement, "It's hard for her. But then, you know, Mr. Frodo, the really important things in life never come without an effort."

Frodo smiled back with a wistful expression on his face, "Yes, that's something we both know." He hesitated a minute and then went on. "You know, Sam, I'd like to help if I could. I mean that."

"Oh, Mr. Frodo, I wouldn't want to put any burden on you."

"Honest, Sam, it would be no burden."

Then Bilbo called to them from the other side of the room, and their conversation was interrupted.


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

Piosenniel's post:

It was a pleasant, relaxed evening. And at the end of it, the children had gathered back in round the adults, their tired bodies seated on the ground and leaning up against legs, or seated on willing laps, their tired heads drowsing against chests. ‘Time to go back home,’ said Miz Rose. Elanor fetched the cart and the little ones were trundled into it by Merimac, Ban, and Mithadan. Amaranthas and the others waved them off, assuring Miz Rose there was no need to worry about clean up. They Chubb boys from just down the lane would be coming over tomorrow and would see to everything.

Next to go were Angelica and her family. Pio hugged the Hobbit, much to Angelica’s surprise, saying she should come to the Inn again soon and bring Prisca again, as Hob really enjoyed being with her. ‘In fact, I think if you brought all three it would work out just fine. Hob and Minta should get to know them, before you leave the children with them - while you are midwiving for me.’ She saw the look of doubt on Angelica’s face. ‘Minta comes from a large family of rowdy boys. She will have no trouble taking care of your three. In fact, she looks forward to the challenge.’

The inn’s wagon was brought round by Mithadan. Pio, Rose and the others climbed aboard and made their way under the stars back to the Green Dragon. Pio leaned, tired, against Mithadan speaking softly to him, and laughing at his answers. Ban and Zira with Azra in her arms, sat together in the back, his arm about her shoulders as they watched the moon glide along behind the wagon in the branches of the trees.

On blankets in the bed of the wagon, Rose and Abar lay side by side, looking at the twinkling clusters of stars overhead. They pointed out the familiar forms and named them, each in their own way. ‘Pretty, isn’t it,’ said Abar as he pointed out the Burning Briar, or the Wain as Rose named it.

‘It’s amazing,’ said Rose, as she traced the pattern in the sky. ‘No matter that we call them different names, the same stars shine down on all of us . . .’

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bilbo and Frodo expressed thanks to Sam, and said their goodbyes, agreeing to meet at Bag-end the next morning for an excursion to the old fishing hole. The guest room had been prepared earlier that day, with the bed neatly made up, and towels and a wash basin set alongside a pitcher of fresh water. It was only a short while later that Pippin politely excused himself and retired for the night.

Sam was left alone in the sitting room, listening for the wheels of the cart as they lumbered slowly down the lane and stopped beside the gate. When his ears picked up the familiar sound, he jumped to his feet and ran out to help Miz Rose get down from the wagon. Together, they gathered up the sleeping children within their arms and tucked them into bed.

Miz Rose came into the sitting room and awkwardly maneuvered herself into an easy chair, setting her feet up on the fireplace fender. "We had such a fine time, Sam. I enjoyed seeing everyone, and the children behaved well. I was so proud of them."

Sam looked carefully at his wife. Her face was happy, but her eyes looked tired and her body drooped. Taking care of seven hobbit children was a rich and rewarding task, but Rose had little time for resting or sitting, exactly the type of thing she needed to do more of as her time grew closer.

As if in answer to Sam's unspoken query, Rose looked over at her husband and added, "I think I'll be up to my chores in the morning if I get a good night's sleep. But I'm afraid it's getting harder to carry through all afternoon and into the evening."

Sam said nothing out loud, but began to think what he might do to ease the burden on his wife.

[ March 24, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

24 Lótessë (day after parties)

As the morning broke through, Maura awoke and slipped softly from the hammock. The tiny lass was still sleeping soundly in a ball, with her head tucked down near her chest. Maura was careful not to disturb the girl, but tapped a finger on Cami's shoulder and motioned for her to rise.

Together, they walked to the pond. The sky was pure and blue, with no cloud in sight, as the first rays of the sun slipped above the distant horizon that lay towards the east.

"Ever since my people trekked to Beleriand, trying to find the light, they have done it this way," Maura explained to Cami, taking her right hand in his own. "We stand and face the rising sun, and then say what is in our hearts."

"But the east...why the east? Always in lore, one faces west. Your own people trekked west, and the Elves."

"We do this beause the meaning is in the journey itself, not in the final destination. We are not Elves, however much we sometimes wish we were, to look only to the West. It is the searching of heart and mind that make us more than we are, so we vow to follow the light across the sky, wherever it leads. And we vow to take the journey together."

"Here," he whispered softly, "I will go first."

He tightened his fingers about hers and then spoke, "Cami Goodchild, I pledge my love and heart to you alone. Whatever wisdom I have, whatever goodness lies within me, these are yours to share. I promise to follow the path of the light, so that, even when our bodies are apart, may our hearts journey together."

In reply, Cami spoke these words. "In all my years in Arda, you alone have touched my heart. Though we have only this small window in time, I would not have wished my life any different. I love you, Maura Tuk. May we journey together in spirit and fight to see the light, even in days of shadow and separateness."

Maura rested his arm gently on Cami's shoulder, "May the Valar and the One who is over all bless our union." This time, there were no raucous sounds or noises to interrupt. With fingers trembling, they fell to the soft ground and drew close to one another, finding a small measure of wonder in a world where such things do not come easy.

[ March 24, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Nurumaiel]

Ferny had spent the whole night at the Pony, sipping ale and forming plans in his mind. Now he stood outside the door to Old Stoat's cottage, knocking loudly. Scowling, he bent down to rub his knee, which was still sore from Fosco's kick. "I'll get you, youngun," he muttered under his breath.

No matter how long Bill knocked, Old Stoat didn't answer. Bill was getting impatient. "Open up, Stoatie!" he called. "It's me, Ferny!"

There was still no answer.

"I know you're in there, Stoatie. Come out or I'll just ha' to go in an' get you!" Bill scowled harder. "Old Stoat, if you don't come an' open the door this minute, I'll call off the deal an' you won't get no money!"

Footsteps sounded from inside the house, but still the door did not open.

"I'll report you to the Shirriffs," said Bill, his voice sinking to a whisper. "I'll tell 'em about all those younguns you kidnapped back in Whitfurrows an' Budge Ford."

The door opened, and there stood Old Stoat.

"Were you afraid to open the door?" Ferny asked with a sneer.

"No," said Stoatie hotly. "I was finishin' off my breakfast, that's all."

Ferny stepped into the cottage and closed the door. Walking over to a chair, he sank down in it and rubbed his knee again.

"What happened to yer leg?" Stoatie asked, his voice becoming mocking. "Did ol' Baggins catch ye and give ye a beatin'?"

"You be quiet," Ferny growled. "It was a youngun… kicked me when I wasn't looking." He leaned forward. "An' Stoatie, he was the son of one of Frodo's relatives. I can have my revenge on both at the same time."

"What do ye mean? Is Frodo back?"

"He's back all right," said Ferny with a nod. "He's back. Stoatie, there's that Fosco Muddyfoot who kicked me, and then an Elf-friend of Frodo's who's gonna have twins. Ye know what I'm thinking? The same thing ye did to those two kids a couple weeks back."

"Kidnappin'?"

Ferny smiled. "I just have one question, Stoatie. I can't do it without your help. What do you say to this plan?"

Auriel's Post

Stoatie settled back in a chair by the unlit fire. He had an aptitude for anything underhand and he had found their recent activities rather to his taste. Why take candy from the baby when taking the baby itself was so much more profitable? He could see no difficultly with Ferny's plans.

There were others now working on Ferny's land and a few more seemed to be drifting in each day. Evil attracts evil. Old Stoat considered his masters idea. It was very managable now there was an increasing band of ruffians ostensibly labouring upon the land but really just waiting for the right moment to show their true colours. At least two of them had a dislike for the rumoured wealth and prosperity of the Hobbits. He smiled.

"Aye, Bill. I take to that idea, I do. As long as I gets paid I'm not too concerned what I does for me wages. If you get yer revenge on those stinking creatures well that's just fine an'dandy gov. If you can get us into that Shire I can snaffle yer a halfling bairn."

Nurumaiel's Post

"Good, good," said Ferny, but he still remained leaning forward. "Stoatie, I need you to do something for me. I need you to go to Hobbiton an' do a bit of spying for me. I plan on kidnapping real soon, but I need to know the lay of the land. Someone needs to go scout a little, an' I want you to do it."

"Who do I look for?"

"You should inquire of the whereabouts of Mr. an' Mrs. Muddyfoot. I plan to take their son. An' ask about an Elf-woman."

Stoatie looked like he was about to nod, but then he gave a little snarl and frowned deeply. "Why can't you go yerself?" he asked.

"That Mr. Bilbo spotted me, Stoatie. He didn't see me, but he was suspicious. An' that Frodo would recognize me. You, Stoatie, would just be a stranger. But keep as hidden as you can."

There was a little silence, then Old Stoat nodded. "It'll get done," he said.

"An' I'll need your help when I do the kidnapping. You're experienced at it - " he thought with a cruel smile of the previously kidnapped children " - an' this isn't just your fooling around, Stoatie." Ferny's eyes narrowed. "This is serious, an' I expect you to get the job... right. A course," he added, leaning back, "you'll have me with you."

[ March 24, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[piosenniel]

24 Lótessë

Prim swept through the swinging kitchen doors like a mother duck, her ducklings in tow. It was early morning at the Inn, and she had a busy day planned for them. She rattled off instructions and timelines. They nodded their heads ‘yes’ as she looked back at them, then eyed one another as she turned away.

‘Are we expecting a lot of guests at the Inn?’ whispered Ruby to Buttercup. Buttercup shrugged her shoulders in response. Prim stopped dead in her tracks, and turned hands on hips. ‘Have you two not been listening closely?’ she asked in exasperation. ‘Today we are expecting a good number of tradesmen to come through from the south and east, bringing the wares we need to carry us through a few more months. Those parties will be staying at the Inn, and I want to make sure they are comfortable and happy – it will make bargaining with them all the more easy.’

The sound of a cleaver rapidly hitting the wood of the shopping block was a loud staccato as they entered the room. Cook’s arm moved furiously up and down on a piece of much mutilated, and now unrecognizable meat. Her face was an angry mask of concentration as her arm delivered blow after unrelenting blow.

Ruby and Buttercup hung back, their eyes wide with worry. Prim approached Cook and heard her muttering imprecations with each chop. She reached out her arm and touched Cook on the back, then stepped back apace as the wild-eyed woman turned on her, cleaver raised for another blow.

‘Vinca Bunce! It’s me. Primrose Bolger.’ She gasped a little in surprise as fat tears fell from Cool’s eyes. ‘What’s happened?’

Cook lowered her arm, and the cleaver clattered to the floor. She walked slowly to the table and sat heavily down. Prim, Ruby, and Buttercup drew round her, concerned. A few silent moments passed, then cook spoke.

She reminded them about her news a while ago from Ferdibrand – that certain Men in Bree were grumbling and angry about their ‘unfair lot’ since the new King had come into power. How they’d been ‘cheated’ out of what was their due in the Shire because they could no longer enter as they wanted. Now it seems that some Men had sneaked into the Shire and were working mischief again.

‘And not just little mischief, Prim,’ she sniffed, wiping her eyes with her apron. ‘I heard from one of the tradesmen just come through the Eastfarthing on the Great Road. There’s been two children kidnapped there.’ There was a sharp intake of breath from all three listeners.

‘Where?’ asked Buttercup, in a thin whisper.

‘One from Whitfurrows. And the other from Budge Ford.’ Prim took the chilled hands of Cook in hers and squeezed them, as much for her own comfort as to reassure the other woman.

Cook turned her teary face to Prim. ‘He didn’t know the name of the little one taken in Budge Ford. My son lives there, with his family. I have a little grandson . . .’ Her worried voice trailed off, not wanting to say what she feared.

Prim murmured a few soothing words to Cook, then bade Ruby get her a strong cup of tea with a generous drop of the special ‘medicine’ kept in the cupboard above the sink. Buttercup, she directed to clean up the cutting board and get the noon meal started. ‘Leftovers, will have to do if that’s all you can manage.’

Leaving the Inn and Cook to the ministrations of the two, Prim took off her apron and hung it hastily on the peg by the back kitchen door. She jammed her straw hat on her head and strode quickly to the stables.

‘Hob Hamfast!’ she yelled, and his face quickly appeared, looking somewhat surprised, from the interior of the stable. ‘Saddle me up one of the ponies, Hob. I’m riding to the Locks to pay Halfred Whitfoot a visit.’

[piosenniel]

‘Come on! Cook should have made her pastries for second breakfast by now.’ Pio looked out the window at the bright sunshine and cloudless sky, then tossed the pile of clothes on the chair to Mithadan. ‘It looks to be the start of a lovely day. Perhaps we can take the cart out for a ride, see the countryside, have a picnic, anything to get us out into the fresh air.’ Laughing she pulled his shirt over his head as he sat up in bed.

Minutes later he was up and followed after her, jamming his feet into his boots as he made his way to the door. He rubbed his hand over his chin, and thought ruefully he should take time to shave. But Pio grabbed him by the hand and hurried him to the kitchen.

It was a somber scene which greeted them as they entered. Pio looked about hopefully for the blackberry muffins she expected, but not even a crumb gave evidence of their whereabouts and no aroma of possible treasures still in the oven made their way to her nose.

Cook had retired to her room. And Buttercup stood at the counter slicing bread into thick slices and toasting them. ‘There’s naught but toast and jams or cheeses for second breakfast, Mistress Piosenniel. Cooks taken to her room for the day and Prim’s gone off for a while. So, I’m doing the best I can. There’ll be soup for lunch. I found some put away in the cooler. But what we’ll be having for the evening meal is anybody’s guess.’

Mithadan rounded up three mugs of tea and a plate stacked high with toasted bread. He pulled out the chairs for Pio and for Buttercup, who blushed at his courteous behavior. ‘Sit down, Buttercup, and tell us what has happened.’ Pio spread a generous helping of gooseberry jam on her toast, and took a bite, offering the plate of toast and the jam jar to the Hobbit.

Buttercup shook her head ‘no’ and passed everything on to Mithadan. She sipped her tea while telling them the story that Cook had related that morning about the kidnappings, and finishing with the departure of Prim to speak to the Shiriff about the need for extra vigilance in this part of the Shire.

Pio’s face grew grave as Buttercup talked on. The thought that someone was kidnapping children made her angry, and her fingers flexed reflexively, as if to grab at some weapon and join in the hunt for such an evil person. She looked at Mithadan, who had been listening intently to the Hobbit’s story. The Shiriff would once again be hounding him she feared. He was too convenient a Man to escape the suspicions she knew would be growing against him.

She reached for his hand, trying not to feel alarmed. ‘Perhaps we should just spend a quiet day here at the Inn. Suddenly I am not sure a ride in the countryside would be a good idea . . .

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Frodo was loading up on fishing gear that he'd found in one of the cupboards from the Inn. He'd risen early, intending to meet Sam and Pippin at the pond, in hopes of capturing a good mess of fish that they could take over to Miz Rose and fry up for lunch. Bilbo had decided to stay at the Inn, since he was still tired from his adventures of the evening before.

Just as Frodo was sprinting out the door, he heard a stern voice calling him back, "Oh, no you don't. You're not going anywhere without this." Bilbo held out a heavy cudgel that had evidently been pried loose from a tree in the Inn's courtyard. It was a good three feet long and as thick around as a hobbit's arm might be.

"What's this for?" Frodo queried in complete bewilderment. A slight smile creased his lips as he turned towards his uncle, "Am I supposed to cudgel the fish?"

"My boy, this is no laughing matter." Bilbo wagged a finger under Frodo's nose. "Last night at Bag-end, while you were cavorting with your friends, I happened to look out the window. Frodo, there was a strange shadow there, and I swear I saw a pair of eyes staring back. And what an evil look they had!"

"Perhaps it was just another hobbit out for an evening stroll, or maybe your own eyes deceived you."

Bilbo turned to his nephew and crossed his arms, a look of certainty etched on his face. "Hobbits aren't six feet tall. I tell you one of the big folk was there, sneaking around."

"Bilbo, I find this hard to believe. You spent the entire week convincing me that the Shire is a safe place for us, and now you say there are prowlers?"

Bilbo dug in his heels and looked stubbornly at his nephew, "Frodo Baggins, believe me or not. It's your choice, but you will carry this cudgel. And here's a second one. Give this to Cami. She and Maura have a burrow by the pond. I suspect they're completely defenseless."

Frodo sighed. He truly had no idea what to believe. Bilbo was evidently convinced he'd seen something suspicious. Perhaps he was mistaken, but maybe there had actually been something lurking in the bushes, some hidden danger that posed a threat to them. In any case, Frodo had no wish to hurt his uncle's feelings so he took one cudgel for himself, intending to use it as a walking stick, and promised to give the other to Maura. As he went out the door, one last thought crossed his mind. It might be wise to tell Sam exactly what Bilbo had said.

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Milo danced nervously from foot to the other as Halfred sat at the desk in the back office, head buried in some papers he was reading, and tried to ignore him. Finally, when Milo began clearing his throat in an increasingly loud manner, Halfred looked up over the rim of his half-glasses, and scowled.

‘Can’t you see I’m busy?’ he admonished the nervous deputy. ‘I’ve gotten some quite disturbing information this morning and I need to read it thoroughly. He pointed to the stack of reports he had been sent from various parts of the Shire concerning the upswing in suspicious and unlawful activity.

‘Well, those reports will just have to wait, Halfred Whitfoot!’ Prim came sailing in through the closed door, and pushed Milo out of her way. He blanched at her entrance and nodded his head toward her as he spoke to Halfred. ‘It’s Miz Prim, sir. She’s here to see you on a matter of some importance.’

‘I can see that, Milo,’ came the strained voice of the Shiriff. ‘Why don’t you get us some tea, and I’ll have a talk here with Miz Prim.’

Prim sat herself down in the chair in front of Halfred’s desk and looked directly at him. “I’ve had some rather grim news this morning Halfred, and I want you to reassure me you are doing everything to see that nothing like this happens around here.’ Halfred took off his glasses and paid close attention as Prim told him what Cook had learned that morning from the tradesman. ‘And this isn’t the first we’ve heard of the Big Folk stirring up trouble and grumbling about how poorly they’ve been treated.’ She went on to tell him about Ferdibrand and his trip to Bree-land a fortnight ago. ‘Now we’ve got kidnappers coming into the Shire and taking two little ones in Eastfarthing. It’s getting too close to home, Halfred, what are you going to do to prevent any Hobbiton children from getting kidnapped?’

Halfred sat back in his chair and sighed. He could see how upset she was, and he did not want to tell her that there were already sightings quite near Hobbiton and Bywater of suspicious looking Big Folk skulking about. He leaned forward and answered her with a confident ring to his voice.

‘We’ve got the problem well under control, Miz Prim. Nothing for you to worry about.’ He pointed to his stack of reports. ‘I’ve already read the information on those kidnappings and from what we can see, they were probably isolated incidents, and not any sort of problem that will spread here.’ He smiled, steepling his fingers, and rested his ample chin on them. ‘I’ve put on extra patrols, and we’re interviewing anyone who may have heard of anything suspicious going on around this area.’ Halfred looked thoughtfully at her. ‘Tell me are those Big Folk still staying at the Inn? I may want to ride out there and speak with them.’

Prim shook her head and frowned. ‘Don’t be a fool, Halfred! There’s no need to go bothering Mistress Piosenniel or her Mister. Or their friend, either, for that matter. You’ld best be looking farther afield than the Green Dragon for suspects.’ She hmmphed at him, and stood to go.

‘Nonetheless,’ he said evenly, undaunted by her less than enthusiastic assessment of his plan, ‘they are considered to be “persons of interest”, and I intend to ride over there soon and interview them in a thorough manner.’

Milo, smiling nervously, came in with a small tray holding two mugs of tea. Prim ignored him as he offered one to her, and strode past him determined to tell Miz Pio and Mithadan what the Shiriff had said. Her fears had not been laid to rest by what she’d heard from Halfred. 'The fool has no idea what needs to be done,' she fumed to herself.

As she rode home, she turned over in her own mind what she and the staff might do to defend the Inn should the need arise.

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orual]

"...and you let your mother sleep. She was worn out at the party last night." Sam looked solemnly over his children, all of whom were still a little tired, but eager to tell him everything that had happened at the party. They were all done now, and he was getting ready to meet Frodo and Pippin at the pond. "Ellie, if Hamfast gets hungry--he shouldn't, I've fed him." This was made apparent by the sorry state that the clothes atop the hamper were in, with mashed fruit rubbed in. "Anyway, if he gets hungry, I put some things in this bowl right here that he likes. Just let your mother sleep, and--"

His eldest daughter assured him that she had taken care of her siblings before, and that it would be fine, she could watch them until her mother woke up. Sam told them all that they were the best children any father could hope to have, made one more round to make sure that everything was in order, and finally left for the pond.

Rose had been so tired last night. Sam was sure that she thought she had fooled him, but he was not deceived, and he knew how exhausted she had been. What could he do to ease her load? Elanor, Frodo, and all of the other children did their best to help her, but nonetheless she had a heavy load. Then inspiration struck him, and he quickened his pace.

"Hullo, Frodo! Pippin!" Sam called as he approached the pond. His friends waved cheerfully back at him. He put his gear on the ground, exchanged a few greetings, and then asked Frodo if they could talk for a moment.

"Mr. Frodo, at the party last night, you had asked if there was anything you could do to help," Sam began.

"I did, and I meant it," Frodo said. Sam nodded.

"Well, I was thinking. Rose was exhausted last night, after the party, and she's been wearing herself out recently. It won't be long before she has the baby, and with seven children already here to take care of it hasn't been easy on her. I try to help as much as much as I can, but even two adults isn't always enough. It's just like you said. So, if you're not busy and you're looking for something to do, Rose would appreciate it if you just wanted to come by and help with the children, or errands, or such."

Frodo's face lit up. "Sam, I'd be delighted!"

"That is, if it isn't too much trouble. The children do love spending time with you," Sam added.

"Sam, I'll do anything I can to repay you for all the kindness that you and Rose showed me when I was ill," Frodo said seriously. "I would love to help you now. And your children really are wonderful. I enjoyed our walk. I'll start immediately!"

Sam smiled broadly. "Thank you, Mr. Frodo. We'd appreciate that."

[Child of the 7th Age]

As the pair walked towards Bywater Pond, Sam pointed to the two large sticks his friend was carrying and chuckled, "Mr. Frodo, you must have known I was going to ask you to work with my children. You certainly came prepared." Then he muttered under his breath, "I hope Elanor and Frodo-lad won't be quite as unreasonable as that."

Frodo pulled back startled and shook his head. "Oh, no. That's not it. You're a wonderful father, and your children are a delight to be near."

There was a moment or two of silence between them, while Frodo wondered how to continue, or even if he should bring up the subject at all. Still, how would he feel if something really did happen later, and he hadn't bothered to share what he'd learned with Sam?

"You know, Sam, there's a tale behind these sticks I'd like you to hear. It's probably just nonsense, but you should be the one to judge that. If you have a minute, I promised to deliver this stick to Maura, and you can listen in as well."

By the time they reached the pond, Frodo could see Pippin at the top of the hill carrying his bucket and rod, with a small string of fish already near his side. The two hobbits turned off the path for a moment to veer towards a cluster of deserted burrows. In front of one of them, Cami and Maura sat under a shaded nook beside a small table, having a bit of tea and thick slices of bread with jam. The couple laughed and talked as they watched a tiny lass scamper back and forth from one side of the grove to the other.

Maura rose to greet them, and offered some tea which was politely accepted. Within a few moments, the two stories had been laid out. Cami explained how she and Maura had found the girl in a basket, and what they'd learned from reading the images in her head. Frodo, in turn, shared Bilbo's tale about a shadow outside Bag-end that his uncle swore was one of the big folk, and then explained why he had the sticks.

"I suppose it might be some horrible mistake," Frodo noted, "although Bilbo is usually a reliable observer."

Cami took the cudgel and thanked Frodo for the information, but looked a bit distressed to hear the news about possible prowlers in their neighborhood. Maura was quiet, but listened to every word, keeping his thoughts to himself. Ater finishing their tea, the couple said goodbye, explaining that they needed to return to the Inn to take care of business. Cami scooped up the little one in her arms. Then Maura set the girl atop his shoulders, as they headed off in the direction of the Inn.

Returning to the main path, Frodo darted a nervous look at Sam and asked what he thought of the news that Bilbo had brought.

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As Cami and Maura made their way through the back door of the Inn that led directly to the kitchen, they were greeted by a distraught Buttercup whose eyes were still red and swollen from cying.

"Oh, Miss Cami, won't you help us with lunch? Cook's upset and can't do any work." After making this request, Buttercup hastily blurted out her news about the bandits and how they had come to Whitfurrows and Budge Ford, kidnapping two of the children there.

Cami's face blanched at hearing these words. It was one more disturbing piece of a puzzle whose meaning was becoming all too clear. She promised to return and help in the kitchen once she'd had a chance to talk with Piosenniel and Mithadan.

Maura's face was a mask of concern as he led Cami, still holding the little one, over to the secluded spot where the Elf and Man were said to have taken their breakfast. "There's no way that Bilbo was mistaken, not after hearing a tale like that. The first night Ban came, he told me he saw something suspicious. I should have taken him seriously then. He was a sentry in Gondolin and knew how to spot things. If I'd paid closer attention, maybe none of this would have happened.

"I'm not going to be caught napping again. This sounds to me like more than one or two prowlers. We could be in for a rough time. If so, I need a better weapon than this." He held up the cudgel Frodo had given him.

"Cami, how many of the hobbits in the Shire have had any experience with weapons?"

"Few, very few," Cami responded. "Other than one or two incidents at the end of the last war, the Shire has been quiet. There was no reason for hobbits to own a dagger or sword."

Maura shook his head and sighed. He had never regarded himself as a fighter. Yet he did have a great deal of experience. All of the hobbits in Beleriand had seen constant skirmishes and warfare, as they'd been forced to retreat from one city to the next, trying to withstand the forces of Morgoth.

"You wanted to see Pio about those herbs for the girl. Let's see if Mithadan can get hold of some weapons for us. What I would give to have my sword or bow right now! Hopefully, we'll never have to use them, but I won't sit here unprepared, while gangs of unfriendly Men roam through the Shire making serious mischief."

As Cami and Maura approached the courtyard, Pio and Mith looked up in surprise to see Cami still carrying the small hobbit lass.

[ March 25, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

It was not surprise which graced the features of Pio’s face. It was amusement. ‘Look!’ she said, drawing Mithadan’s attention to the approaching couple holding the baby. ‘It seems as if Cami has attracted another stray.’ Mithadan laughed, and looked at Pio thoughtfully. ‘Yes, well she seems to have that talent, doesn’t she? People of all sorts come under the power of her presence, don’t they?’

Man and Elf stood as the trio approached. The new couple was greeted warmly with handshakes and embraces. Pio bent down to hug Cami, who held the little one in her arms. A small gasp escaped the Elf, and stepping back, her eyes glinting, she looked closely at Cami. Pio opened her mouth to speak, but her words were swept away by a howl from the little girl.

Little one! Your ear is hurting! Pio’s hand went soothingly to the side of the baby’s face. ‘Cami, I have my bag of medicinal herbs in my room. Let us see what we can find for her.’ The two women and the sniffling child went into the kitchen.

Pio directed Buttercup to heat up a cup of salt in one of the frying pans, while she found one of her clean socks and her herb kit. The warm salt was poured into the sock and held lightly against the baby’s ear – the heat from it bringing some relief for the pain. Pio showed Cami the proportions for a mixture of willow bark and a pinch of athelas in a small dollop of honey. She put a small drop of the mixture on her little finger and teased open the mouth of the little girl with the sweetness of it, depositing it deftly on the roof of the child’s mouth. Tastes good, does it not, little one!

Mithadan and Maura came in to the kitchen, their faces serious, reflecting the gravity of their conversation. ‘I travelled quickly here from Gondor, bringing only what I thought I might need,’ she heard Mithadan say. ‘Let’s see if Piosenniel can draw on her resources here . . .’

‘And what resources are those that will you be needing, Maura?’

Pio handed the little one back to Cami and bade them all sit down at the table. Maura spoke of his concerns about the increasing number of incidents involving unfriendly he had just learned about. He spoke of his need to arm himself and Cami to defend their family and those around them as need be.

‘A sword, I think for myself. And a bow for Cami.’ Pio looked with interest at Cami. ‘You will take up a weapon?’ she asked, remembering her frustration in earlier situations where the obstinate Hobbit refused to arm herself. ‘To defend myself and my family,’ came the unhesitating answer.

‘Your family . . . yes . . .’

Pio stood and motioned them to follow her to her rooms. From the chest in the front room, she took out a bundle rolled up in oiled leather. It was about three and a half feet long, with the ends folded over and securely fastened with leather ties. She unrolled it on the floor, and the well polished blades caught the light and gleamed. Maura smiled appreciatively, his hands longing to touch them. Her eyes roamed appraisingly over the five long knives, coming to rest on the last one.

‘Stand up, please,’ she directed him, eyeing his height and the muscling of his arms. She picked up the knife she thought would suit him best. The sharp, double-edged blade was the shape of a long slender leaf, twenty inches of fine Dwarven steel. Seven more inches finished off the length of the haft from the cross piece to the simple ball pommel. ‘It is a light and sturdy blade, Maura. It should serve you well.’ She watched as his hand closed round the leather bound grip and he swung it carefully in a few practice strokes.

It fits your hand well, Master Bladesman. May you find no cause to use it.

Pio looked up at Cami from her seat on the floor. ‘It will take me a little longer to get a bow for you.’ Mithadan gave her a hand up, and she stood, rubbing the small of her back. ‘Perhaps you and Maura can talk strategy and planning, Mithadan. Surely we can help organize, if only from behind the scenes.’

A movement outside the window caught her eye. ‘Ah, there’s the answer to the other needed weapon!’

She took Cami by the hand, and pulled her from the room, leaving Mithadan and Maura to talk. ‘I saw Hob,’ she said, ‘just cross the yard into the stable. He does some hunting for the Inn as does his friend. I think we can get a bow for you from one of them . . .’

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

Child's post

Cami had gone to visit Hob at Pio's suggestion, hoping that he could find her a suitable bow. However, all of the hunting bows he pulled out for her had a much heavier pull than she felt comfortable with. Hob had just given up on his search and left, when Minta poked her head through the stable door. She'd heard the rumors about Cami's young charge and wanted to have a look herself.

Minta led Cami back into the house. She grinned broadly at the little one toddling along behind them who was already feeling better from the effects of Pio's herbs. "What's her name?," she asked.

"Her name?" Cami's mind went blank. "I'm afraid we haven't given her one yet."

"But you and Maura must come up with something," Minta urged. "Otherwise, it could be bad luck, and these days we don't need any bad luck, especially with children."

Cami knew she was referring to the recent events in East Farthing but did not want to call them by name for fear they would somehow leap over to Bywater and Hobbiton and take on new life of their own accord.

Cami promised that she and Maura would decide on a name that very evening and let Minta know the next day. Laughing and joking, Minta caught up the child in her arms and offered to look out for her whenever Cami needed to work in the Inn, a proposal which Cami quickly accepted.

"Now about that bow. Leave it to my husband to come up with something that's twice as tall as you need and with a pull that's far too heavy for you to handle. I think I have something that will work a little better."

She went to a storage cupboard and removed a wooden bow, that was carefully crafted to Cami's proportions and height. "I've two of these. My father made them for my brothers. But after they outgrew them, I managed to get them myself."

Minta stroked the bow with firm but loving hands in a way that suggested she knew how to use it. Cami looked at her with surprise. She had never dreamed that this mild hobbit woman had ever handled a weapon of any kind.

"With five brothers, I couldn't help but learn a few things about bows and woodcraft and such. My brothers would never admit it, but I could hit the target as often as they did, and took down just as much game." Here Minta lowered her voice. "To tell the truth, after I heard the rumors about the bandits, I got out my own bow and went out in the field to practice again."

Cami looked cautiously about, as if she was afraid that someone might overhear. "I thought I was the only lass in the Shire who ever took to such things."

"You'd be surprised. There are a few of us, though we don't make a point of parading it through the marketplace." Then Cami told her how her own daughter Rose had learned to wield a short sword. Minta looked at her admiringly, "Not even my brothers can do that."

Cami thanked Minta and was just about to leave when the two-year old lass began fiddling with the bowstring and going through Cami's new quiver of arrows, dragging them out one by one. The child held one up to her nose and peered down at it intently. "Stop that now," Cami chastised her, grabbing the arrow back as quickly as she could.

"No, no. Lolly want. Lolly like."

The lass again reached out for the bow until Cami managed to pull her up by the shoulders, her little arms and legs beating the air in complete frustration at the prospect of being separated from such a treasure.

Minta took the squawling bundle from Cami and grinned, "This one certainly has a mind of her own, and seems to have a liking for bows and such. But I'll keep her out of mischief, I promise."

As Cami took up the bow and made her way back to her room to store it away, a random thought occurred to her, and she burst out laughing. A very headstrong little girl who called herself "Lolly" and who could not put down the arrow. It should not be hard to find a suitable name. She made a note in her head to talk with Maura as soon as she could.

[ March 27, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Orual]

The news of the supposed skulker outside of Bag End had worried Sam. He thought of his children at home with their mother, who was hardly capable of protect herself against an attacker, as pregnant as she was, much less protecting all seven of their children.

"What do you think, Sam?" Frodo asked. Sam startled out of his thoughts.

"Think about what, Mr. Frodo?" he asked.

"About Bilbo's news, what he saw outside last night," Frodo explained. He looked a little anxious himself.

"I have to say it worries me, Mr. Frodo," Sam confessed. "Thinking of Rose and the children home alone, and Rose in no condition to defend them. Frodo-lad's getting older, but he's still not big enough or strong enough to take on a full-grown hobbit, much less one of the Big Folk. I'd like to think that Mr. Bilbo was just mistaken, but I can't convince myself of that. He's too sharp to be wrong about this, and if he's worried enough to send out those cudgels, he'd have to be pretty sure of what he saw. And if he's sure, that's good enough for me, so I'm uncomfortable with the whole business."

Having thus expressed himself, Sam fell into his own thoughts as they walked along the road, mulling over the news, and wondering how he could best protect his family.

[piosenniel]

Halfred urged Thistle to a slower pace as they turned up the lane to the Inn. 'Looks peaceful enough,' he said, taking in the few tradesmen who sat at tables beneath the trees. All Hobbits he noted, in a satisfied manner. Perhaps the Man and his Elf-wife had decided to leave the Shire. He smiled at this thought, a simple daydream beginning that all these problems had left with them. Reality intruded abruptly as Hob led ‘Falmar from the stable, alongside Mithadan’s horse and turned them loose in the large penned in grassy area beneath the trees. Thistle whinnied at the sight of the large horses, as Halfred frowned.

Thistle ambled to the front steps of the Inn, and waited patiently for Halfred to dismount. It was mid-afternoon, and the sun shone down hot on the little pony as well as the leathered back of Halfred’s beefy neck. The Shiriff pulled his green hat off, and grabbing his red cotton hanky from his breeches’ pocket, wiped the sweat from his florid face. He dismounted, and clomped up the steps to the main door, leaving Thistle to wander over to the shady greensward with the other horses.

The interior of the Inn was cool and dim as he entered the door. And he stood blinking in the entrance for a few moments as his eyes adjusted. There were a number of local Hobbits he recognized. One of them hailed him, waving him over with the promise of a half pint and a pipe full of Southern Star. Halfred found his feet heading in that direction when he recalled the reason for his visit to the Inn.

Instead he turned and seeing none of the staff about, headed toward the kitchen. He pushed the doors open quickly, startling Ruby and Buttercup who were busy arranging a platter of bread, meats, cheese, and pickle to offer round to the customers. Their eyes flew wide at the sight of him, and Buttercup drew back, wondering what horrid thing had happened now. Ruby plucked up her courage and stepped boldly in front of him, impeding his progress into the room.

‘Here, now! You’ve got no call to be sneaking up on us, scaring us half to death! Does Miz Prim know you’re here?’ He sputtered at her burst of words, as she went on. She fixed him with her dark brown eyes, standing hands on hips, foot tapping. ‘What are you here for Halfred?’

Halfred drew himself up, and looked at her in his most authoritative manner. ‘There have been some recent disturbances in the Shire of late, and I’ve come to sort them out with persons of interest who might have some knowledge of them.’

Ruby looked at him as if he were speaking some strange language. ‘Speak plain, Halfred Whitfoot. And don’t try to pretty it up with that legal gobbledy-gook!’

Halfred tugged at his collar, trying to dispel the growing sensation that he was about to choke. He was flustered and felt unnerved by this slip of a woman. Taking a deep breath, he blurted out, ‘The Man, Mithadan, I’ve come to question him, and his Elven wife, too, if she’s come back . . .’

[Child of the 7th Age]

As Cami heard the commotion at the door of the kitchen, she set down the serving platters she'd retrieved from the Common Room after the last luncheon setting and came over to find out what was happening.

She could scarcely believe the words she was hearing from Halfred's mouth. Her dear friends, who had given their life's blood to save and preserve the hobbits of Beleriand and Numenor, were now to be taken aside and treated as if they were common criminals. Cami pushed her way to the front of the group and stared at Halfred, spluttering out her rage and frustration.

"Fool of a hobbit. Just ask anyone in the Inn. We can all vouch where the two of them were when these attacks took place. Go ahead, talk to anyone you like, and they'll tell you the very same thing."

Halfred narrowed his eyes and glared back at Cami. "That's not what my sources say. Indeed, your high and mighty friend, the Elf, was out gallavanting about the countryside for a considerable period of time. Her husband arrives here after months of being apart, and, a few days later, his wife disappears with no explanation. The whole thing sounds fishy."

"In any case, Cami Goodchild, I don't believe a word you're saying. You're so enamored of these outsiders that you'd say and do anything on their behalf." He pushed Cami roughly aside and strode forward into the Inn, insisting that Ruby take him to the suspects so he could begin their interrogation.

As the kitchen door slammed shut behind Halfred, Prim tugged on Cami's sleeve, and pulled her into the pantry, lowering her voice so that she could not be heard by anyone casually passing by.

"Don't bother with him, Miz Cami. He's lost all reason and sense. The best thing we can do is to start organizing to defend ourselves against these bandits, and try and come up a plan for figuring out who they really are."

"Cami, I need to stay here and prepare the evening meal, since Cook is still resting. I want you to run over to Bag-end and see if you can persuade Mayor Sam to call a meeting in a day or so for the residents of Bywater and Hobbiton. Then we can talk about these things and decide what we should be doing."

Cami nodded her head in ready agreement and went out to the stables to saddle up a pony. She told Maura she'd be back shortly, then took off speedily for Bag-end, glad to be doing something other than sitting still and worrying.

[ March 27, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

Old Stoat threw a cloak, more mud-splattered than his other garments over himself and filled his pockets with any items he considered useful for his little spying mission. Finally he took his beloved knife, gave it a wipe on the cloak's hem and declared himself ready.

Ferny stood by the ancient water pump in the cobbled yard, giving instructions to another of the itinerant workers. Stoatie smiled. He knew that he gave not instructions for the care of the smallholding but instructions for a further spying mission. Each line was being cast out into the stream before Ferny drew in a Hobbit.

"I'm ready gov. You want me to head for Hobbiton, yes?"

"Aye, and keep your wits about you. Those folk may be small but they're far from daft. You'll not be able to walk in all casually like. You'll have to be a canny spy." Ferny barked at him.

Stoatie merely smiled. "Oh aye, I am that," and with that he turned about and set off down the lane. It was a fair journey to Hobbiton from the farm outside Bree. He glanced about him. He wondered if Ferny had another location in mind by way of a hide-out as a delapidated cottage, not much better than a shed, in open country, by the side of the lane was not suitable for the hiding of kidnapped children.

The day passed uneventfully. Old Stoat even managed to resist a little vagabond activity when faced with a fat farmer with an equally fat purse alone upon the road. He could rob someone at any time. His nefarious business with Bill Ferny was actually proving to be quite enjoyable.

He stopped and consulted his little map, hand-drawn on his last visit to those parts when he had met a man upon the road who had been seeking the inn. As he had done on that occasion, Old Stoat left the open road and completed his journey cross-country. He knew where he was headed for but had no intention of letting a soul know he was there.

[piosenniel]

This man is insufferable! If I have to sit here much longer I shall be forced to do something drastic.

Mithadan put his hand on hers. Don’t hurt the Shiriff, Piosenniel. There is no use reasoning with him, either, or so I found out from our previous encounter. Just let him finish speaking and he’ll leave.’

Pio squirmed on the chair in the kitchen as Halfred went on and on with his questions, insinuations, and barely veiled threats. She was uncomfortable today and short tempered from lack of sleep. The twins were up at night, kicking and pushing against her ribs and hip bones. She found it hard to breathe as they pushed upward against her lungs. Her hand rubbed across her belly wondering if she could talk them into either settling down . . . or perhaps coming early.

She laughed abruptly at the thought of going into labor at this very moment. Now that would surely put an end to this ‘interview’. The two men turned to look at her. Halfred glared at her, thinking she was laughing at him. Mithadan offered her a hand up, and she stood, rubbing at the small of her back.

The sudden disruption brought an abrupt halt to the 'interview'. Mithadan shrugged his shoulders at Halfred. ‘You’re a married man, aren’t you, Shiriff. Did your wife get so out of sorts in her last month?’

Halfred watched as Pio paced back and forth. His face softened as he thought of his own wife and babies. ‘It’s a trial, Mister Mithadan. My own Millefoil is a right terror the last few weeks. Just wait until she’s having the babies and tells you she’ll kill you if you ever touch her again.’ Both men turned to watch Pio as she sighed and rubbed again at her back. ‘Begging your pardon,’ remarked Halfred turning the the Man, ‘but yer Missus, looks as if she might be able to follow through on that threat.’

‘Ah, well . . .’ Mithadan ran his hand through his hair, and scratched his head. He smiled in agreement at Halfred, nodding his head.

Halfred put his hat on, and made his way to the door. ‘Look, Mister Mithadan,’ he said quietly, ‘I don’t like the idea of Big Folk in the Shire. They bring trouble with them, even if they don’t cause it directly. It’d be best if you and the Missus were to leave the Shire as soon as you can. Right after the babies are born would be best. There are going to be a lot of hard feelings and harsh words before this whole thing is over. I’d hate to think it would spill over on to some who might be innocent . . .’

Bird, perched on the lintel of the door, watched as Halfred passed through it. A shiver passed through her at the Shiriff’s last words, and she ruffled her feathers trying to shake off the presentiment of impending misfortune.

Mithadan, she saw, was standing near Pio, talking in a low voice to her. His voice was filled with concern and his hand found the small of her back, rubbing it gently, as he moved her from the kitchen toward their rooms. Bird heard him say something about a short nap . . . and, ‘I’ll rub your back til you fall asleep’ . . . ‘You’ll feel better . . .’

Bird glided silently down to the floor, changing into her human form just as she landed. She didn’t like the way things were going in the Shire. Things were askew these days. She sat at the kitchen table, arranging the salt and pepper shakers and the cups left over from afternoon tea into varying formations as ideas about what she could do to help ease the situation came and went under the cold eye of close scrutiny . . .

[ March 28, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

A tall stack of dirty plates stood near the washbasin. The pile was slowly shrinking as Rose Goodchild washed the dishes one at a time and handed them to her mother to dry. All the children had joined Cami and Maura for a picnic supper down by the pond. The boys were outside helping Maura to construct a new windowframe as Gamba had promised, but Rose had slipped into the burrow to talk.

Like Piosenniel, the boys had not been shocked to discover that Cami intended to take in another waif. Ever since arriving in Greenwood, their mother had reached out to every stray critter who came mewing or scratching at the door. To the boys, this latest addition did not seem terribly different. Moreover, Gamba did not regard this tiny lass as any threat to his own way of life, which centered on forests and treetops and chasing after game, or to his treasured relations with his brothers. Once the older boy registered his approval by affectionately lifting the girl onto his lap, the younger ones accepted her without hesitation.

Cami told them she and Maura were naming the toddler "Holly," although she was careful not to offer any reason for this choice. Only later, when she had a chance to be alone with Rose, did she explain that Pio's mother had gone by this same name, and "Piosenniel" itself was an Elvish variant on "Holly". Cami had tried to approach Pio with this news, but she'd been forced to leave a note instead, when Halfred's agent had refused her admission to their room.

For the most part, Cami's conversation with Rose centered on the evil big folk, a topic that was rapidly becoming the main one on everyone's mind. She explained about her short visit to Bag-end that afternoon, and how Sam had already been thinking along the same lines as Prim. Sam had set a time, just two evenings from now, when all the residents of Bywater and Hobbiton would gather together in the Town Hall and come up with ideas on how to deal with the threat of the bandits.

"Rose," she urged, "try to think of something you could do to help, some suggestion you could make, or plan you could devise. Most of these hobbits don't have any weapons' training. A few did fight in the Battle of Bywater, but they have nowhere near the experience you have."

"And Rose, please keep an eye on your brothers. I've warned them to stick close to the Inn and run away if they see any big folk. But you know how Gamba can be. Please be careful yourself. We aren't sure who these robbers are or what they want."

"I promise. I'll do my best," Rose quickly responded. "And I will think about the other. I'll let you know as soon as I come up with something."

Cami hugged her daughter and again reminded her not to lose her head. Then Rose gathered up the boys and headed back toward the Inn and stables, since the small burrow by the pond would not have had enough space even for her to stay the night.

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Orual]

26 Lotessë (27 Thrimidge S.R.)

"Be sure to tell as many as you can about it--I want everyone here who can be here." The messenger nodded, and took off. Sam rubbed his temples. What a time for this to happen! He had been up late last night, trying to prepare for the meeting and helping Rose with a fussy Hamfast. The heavy rings under his eyes testified to that fact.

He sat down at his desk and took a piece of paper, planning to write a letter that he was supposed to have written two days before. His hand dictated what came out, though, and it turned out to be a sketch, a rough drawing of a landscape. He frowned at it, then smiled ruefully at the barren land and the erupting mountain that he had subconsciously drawn. "It could be worse," he told himself. "Yes, it could be." He stood up slowly, pushing the sketch into a drawer, and went to get ready for the meeting.

***

"Thank you all for coming," Sam began, above chairs squeaking and feet shuffling as the hobbits all took their places in the meetingroom of the town hall. "I've called you here to discuss a serious problem facing our community. At a gathering at my house several days ago, one of my guests noticed someone skulking around outside. And no hobbit, either, but a Man, which is, as you all know, in direct violation of the King's edict. Let me continue," he said, as the murmur began to grow. "These bandits, or whatever they are, are obviously bold and dangerous folk to be breaking the laws of the King Elessar. This is something that concerns us all, and should worry us all. I don't know why these Men have come here, or what their plans are for the Shire, but I plan to stop them. For all I know, they could be planning a fireworks show for the children of the Shire, but they are still in violation of the King's laws, and for that they must be driven out. Our Shirrifs will be doing their duties more diligently than ever, but we must help them. I suggest that we organize into teams to patrol the area, especially the roads, and at night, watching for these bandits. But you must all be on the watch, at all times. Keep an eye on your children, or two, if you can! We're doing everything we can, but you must help. I welcome your suggestions and your thoughts." Sam stopped, and waited for someone to speak.

[ March 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nurumaiel]

Auriel's Post

The sun was about to set and dusk slid into the shadowy spaces below the trees or behind walls. Old Stoat took full advantage of the gathering gloom to cover him from prying eyes. He had not the advantages that Hobbits had when required to be silent and sneeky but had nevertheless a whole lifetime of dark deeds where he had honed his skills.

Ahead of him, between the trees, he saw the little buildings that made up Hobbiton. Carefully, so as not to snap a stick or send up a warning call from a resting pheasant, he made his progress. His dark, dirty garments providing an effective camouflage.

He skirted round the buildings but was surprised to find most of the town deserted. Washing flapped plaintively upon lines, uncollected; toys lay upon the grass, abandoned mid-game; the usual aroma of cooking that would greet his nostrils when near the halflings did not waft toward him on the breeze. Something was afoot in Hobbiton. Old Stoat was not afraid but he was certainly curious.

After skirting the perimeter of the town he moved inward with caution. It was not long before he found out the location of its occupants. A large building: he presumed it to be the Town Hall, seemed to be holding a meeting. With great care Stoatie crept around the back and found what looked like a wood shed, built as a lean-to. He tested to see if it would take his man-weight. The ramshakle shed moved slightly but held firm. Old Stoat smiled. There was a small window, set high into the wall, that a man standing upon a woodshed roof might look through. Steadily he mounted the shed roof. Again it shifted slightly, but mercifully made no noise. His eyes, just cleared the sill and he was able to see inside the crowded room below. He could hear nothing but general hubbub. The window was merely decorative and could not be opened. He could not risk breaking it as it would draw attention to himself. Stoatie sighed and tried to concentrate on the goings-on below him.

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

"Mayor Sam," Cami interjected. "The part that's making me nervous is how those two children were kidnapped in the Eastfarthing. It's one thing having bandits who want to rob us or vandalize our homes. But, it's something else entirely to have them threaten our little ones."

Cami glanced at the toddler who had fallen sound asleep and was now draped over Maura's shoulder. They had brought the girl with them, since neither she nor Maura felt comfortable letting Holly out of their sight. In this, they were little different than others in Bywater and Hobbiton. There were a great many hobbit children scattered about the room. The older ones played quietly along the side, while their younger brothers and sisters drifted off to sleep, either in their parents' arms or curled up by their feet.

Miz Rose responded quickly, "I agree, Cami. Our most important job is safeguarding the youngsters. That comes before anything else. We need to use common sense and keep the children close, especially after nightfall."

"We can't be certain the big folk in Hobbiton are the same ones who kidnapped those other children. But, until someone proves differently, I think we should assume the worst."

"What bothers me is that there are many who aren't at this meeting. They may not even realize what's happened. Perhaps, several of us should get together and pay a visit to those families, warning them to keep a close eye on their little ones until things settle down."

There was a general feeling that Miz Rose's suggestion was a sensible one, and Minta readily agreed to be placed in charge of this project. Almost immediately, a number of women came forward and offered to help her.

It was at this point that Tanta Hornblower lumbered forward and glared fiercely at Cami. "Mistress Minta, I hope you have too much good sense to accept that offer of assistance from Cami Goodchild. It is entirely because of her that this whole difficulty has occurred."

Cami leapt to her feet, striding angrily towards Mistress Hornblower to demand an immediate explanation and apology, but was firmly restrained by a determined squeeze on her arm from Miz Rose. Rose turned to face Cami's accuser. "Mistress Hornblower, I hope you don't mean what I think you do. Cami's friends have come here with letters of conduct from Elessar. Big folk or not, I know Mayor Sam considers them our honored guests." Rose purposely stared at the Shirriff who stood at the back of the assembly, guarding the exit door and wearing a dour expression on his face.

Seeing how things were going, Mayor Sam got to his feet and attempted to steer the discussion in a more productive vein, "Anyone else have ideas on how we can deal with the threat from these bandits, or find out who they are?"

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

26 Lotessë - evening

She thought she would stop at the Inn before heading up to Amaranthas’ house. The dear old Hobbit had sent her good directions, but having never been out of Waymeet, Gilly found herself getting a bit lost in this bigger town. Surely someone at the Inn could point her in the right direction. To top it off, it had been a long, hot hike, this last part of the journey, and now evening was upon her. A nice half pint of the Green Dragon’s vaunted ale would go a long way to cooling her parched throat.

Perhaps she could also get look at the lady she was to be nursemaid for. ‘Mistress Piosenniel,’ that is what Amaranthas called her in her letters, and supposedly she was staying at the Inn. Gilly had never seen an Elf, but she had listened closely to all the stories about them, trying to sort out the facts from the fictions and the natural dislike of the unknown and unfamiliar that always seemed to be woven into the stories that filtered through Waymeet. She was prepared to like this lady before she even saw her, if only for the fact that she was something quite outside the bounds of what was considered ‘normal’ and ‘acceptable’ for the good folk of her town, and especially to her family.

There was no local tavern where she had come from, and so she wasn’t quite sure what to expect as she entered the doors and stepped into the cool interior of the Inn.

She stepped from the evening light and blinked her eyes in the more subdued light of the common room. A few more steps brought her to a small table by the door, and she sat down at it gratefully. No one was at the bar, nor did there seem to be anyone about who could help her. In fact, the entire small clientele of the Inn, all males, seemed to be clustered at one end of the room, talking loudly to each other.

Curious, Gilly rose from her table and crept nearer to the outskirts of the group. One of the men stood up and was talking to the others. She listened closely wondering what he was so worried about. Why were these Hobbits up in arms? What had happened that she didn’t know about.

She edged a little closer toward the center of the little group, looking at the faces of those around her. Why were they so frightened?

*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Gilly had retreated from the cluster of Hobbits as the voices rose louder and angrier, feeling frightened herself by the vehemence of some of the talk. She had gone to sit at the bar, hoisting herself up onto one of the barstools, far from the crowd. Just as she looked back over her shoulder at the gathered Hobbits she heard the voice.

‘May I help you?’

Gilly turned to see who had spoken to her and her eyes went wide with wonder. There, behind the bar stood one of the Big Folk, or so she thought at that moment. Tall and fair, she was, and her grey eyes looked with a hint of amusement at the dusty traveler perched at the bar. It was then that Gilly’s gaze moved down the figure, and without thinking she blurted out, ‘You’re pregnant!’ Crimson tinged her cheekbones spread quickly down her neck, as it occurred to her who this woman standing with a furrowed brow before her might be.

‘Mistress Piosenniel, it’s me. Gilly. Gilly Took.’

The Elf looked at her coolly, eyebrows raised. ‘Gilly Took, you say. Should I know you?’

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Pio poured the flustered Hobbit a half pint of ale, inviting her to sit at a table and talk. She was curious why this young woman thought she might know her, and tired of listening to the loud talk of the others fueled by numerous mugs of wine and ale they had consumed.

She eyed them, and shook her head. When they had at first come in, she had given them a flyer about the Town Meeting called by Sam. But they had politely and firmly told her that their business was their own, and they were meeting here. There were ten of them, most from the outlying farms and holdings around the area, all clustered around two of the long tables they had shoved together. Smoke from their pipes hung in a blue haze above their heads, and from what she could see the usual calming effect of the pipe smoking ritual had not abated their anger in the least.

A few cool heads, more thoughtful and analytic were among them, but they were overcome by the angrier members, whose eyes darted every now and then toward her, and not with kindness. She stayed as far from them as she could, allowing them to fill their own tankards.

Distance, though, could not keep the effect of their anger from her. They wanted all the Big Folk away from here, in any way possible. And as their glances fell more and more often on her, she had the urge to stuff her pack with what she needed and drag Mithadan and Bird from this place as quickly as she could. Eight days would bring them to Mithlond; she could have the twins there, and they could book passage on a ship at the Grey Havens and sail to Gondor.

The thought of leaving Cami held her back from following through on this plan. This would be her last time with her dear friend. Though the fact that she was now with Maura would ease their parting when it came. Pio smiled, then, remembering that she had not spoken yet to Cami of what she had learned.

The soft thud of Gilly’s tankard on the table pulled her back from her wool-gathering. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, turning back to face the Hobbit. ‘Where are my manners?’

She introduced herself to Gilly, and got the story from her of how Amaranthas had written her, asking her to come be Pio’s nursemaid. ‘I see now!’ Pio laughed out loud. ‘I think I do remember a quick discussion about this with her and with Angelica, but I did not know the plans were quite so “finalized” between the two of them!’

Gilly blushed, and in turn told Pio about herself, adding that she would be available, and quite willing, to travel once the babies were born. Her eyes glanced over at the gathering, drawn there by a sudden rise in the loudness of the talk. ‘Why are they so angry? What’s happening here?’ And to herself she thought, ‘And why do they keep looking over here with such hateful faces?’

Pio explained briefly what had happened in the past few days, and told her of the reports they’d heard from other parts of the Shire. Gilly shook her head as Pio talked on. ‘There have been rumors of those kind going about in my little part of the Westfarthing, too, Mistress Piosenniel. Of late, people there have thought they’ve seen shadowy, tall figures skulking about on the outskirts of Waymeet. You knew, didn’t you that Waymeet was one of the headquarters for the Chief and his men?’

‘The Chief?’ Pio had no recollection of this name. ‘During the War,’ continued Gilly, ‘Sharkey’s men had a stronghold there, under the supervision of Lotho Sackville-Baggins.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Some say one of the meanest ones has come back to claim what he feels is his by right.’

The evening shadows had grown longer and darker outside the Inn. The night was proving to be as warm as the day had been, still Pio shook herself slightly trying to throw off the chilled feeling that had crept on her. The small group of Hobbits was breaking up its meeting, the members hurrying home to their own snug dwellings. A few acknowledged her as they left, nodding their heads at her or tugging at their caps.

Once they had gone, she motioned for Gilly to follow her. ‘It’s too late for you to be seeing Amaranthas tonight. The old dear will have gone to bed by now. Stay the night here at the Inn. My guest, of course! Tomorrow I will introduce you to my friends and to Mithadan.’

[theWhiteLady]

WhiteLady's post

Rose Goodchild felt her face grow hot and angry at Tanta's accusation. It was a rather good thing that the words she wished to speak on Cami's behalf rose up and became choked in her throat, emerging only in an outraged garggle. When the young hobbit found her voice, Mayor Samwise had hastily stepped forward to steer the discussion back to the subject at hand. Emboldened by her inflamed temper which was evident in a faint flush that tinted her cheeks a rosy-red, Rose stood up to address the Townhall.

"It seems to me that these bandit men must either be very desperate or terribly wicked to go so far as to snatch our hobbit babes. Who knows what other things they might do to achieve their end? Though our Shirrifs do a fine job of keeping the peace between our own quiet fold in times of peace," and with this, Rose nodded towards the guard in the back; a frosty attempt at civility though she was, in her mind, remembering their unkind treatment of Mithadin. "We do not know the number or purpose of these men," she continued. "They may be few and disorganized, of course, but I do not think we should be caught unawares if the situation proves otherwise."

Rose faltered as she felt the eyes of the gathered families upon her and the flush along her cheeks spread to the tips of her ears and point of her nose. Before she could continue or make any further comment, however, Hob had jumped to his feet and Rose sank into her seat next to Cami who gave her an encouraging nod.

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


ArwenBaggins' post

Elanor sat at the end of the row her mother was sitting in, holding Goldi in her lap. She tried to keep up with the conversation, but the arguing became too frequent and annoying. She leaned over to Frodo-lad, who was sitting next to her. "I wish they would stop blaming people and start fixing the problem!" Frodo nodded in approval.

Sighing deeply, she set Goldi down and stood, trying to be seen. Clearing her throat, she yelled over the bickering crowd. "I want to help! I want to help you!" A stern look appeared on her face as the crowd quieted.

"Yes! My brothers and sisters can help! We can take around a flyer that my father or the sheriff can write, telling everyone when it will be their turn to patrol the roads at night! We will remind everyone to look around their farms and homes to find anything they can use as a weapon--shovels, spades, sturdy walking sticks, butcher knifes, -- just in case the bandits show up at their door!" She stood with her back straighter than usual, with a large grin.

Miz Rose looked over at her daughter. She was very proud to hear Elanor speak out at the meeting with some good practical ideas, but she was worried about the children running off on their own and getting into trouble. Miz Rose quickly added, "Elanor, you have to promise me that you and the other children would only do this in the day, and that you'll always go in pairs. If not, if you can't promise that, then it will be way too dangerous."

Elanor looked to Frodo-lad, to Rosie, and then to the others. "We promise. We will have older children go with the younger ones. We will never venture to far, just so we can get back before dark. Everyone in the Shire will be informed!" She grinned again, hearing everyone voice their approval of her idea.

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

[Carrûn]

Frodo-lad sat in silence next to his sister as the adults argued.

"I wish they would stop blaming people and start fixing the problem!"

He nodded in approval at Elanor's words; she could make things seem so simple at times. He was somewhat surprised when she offered to help, but readily agreed to go with her and the other children in groups to spread the warning.

He was a little excited.

[ April 02, 2003: Message edited by: Carrûn ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hob Greenhand scowled and stalked up to the front of the gathering standing right in front of Mayor Samwise and wagging a finger under his nose. "I'll speak plain to you. All these suggestions are well and good. But we still don't know who these bandits are, or even where they come from."

"In the past week, I've heard all kinds of funny stories flying about the Shire. Some say it's the Chief's men who've ridden back to taunt us. Others say Sharkey himself has risen once again."

Sam stared at Hob with a look of pure alarm. "Now don't be speading rumors like that. We all saw Sharkey blow away in a puff of wind. I don't expect to be seeing him again, at least not anytime soon."

Hob shook his head and grimaced, "Maybe so, but there's still doesn't change the truth. We don't know who these men are, or where they come from, or even what they want. How can we fight something when we don't even know what it is?"

The entire room suddenly became silent. What Hob was saying made a lot of sense.

Cami was the first to break the silence, "And just exactly how do you propose that we do this? Invite them into our burrows for tea? We have no idea where they've squirelled up."

"Maybe not an exact idea, no. But all this trouble started east of us. I expect that's where the problem lies. Perhaps, we can send scouts out, and have them take a look, and figure out where all this is coming from."

Maura stomped to his feet in frustration, "Hold on, Hob. I'm all for sending out scouting parties, if we have some realistic idea of where they should look. But we don't have any notion. My wife delights in telling me that the Shire covers over 20,000 square miles. Even if we confine ourselves to the portion that lies the furthest east, you're talking about a huge tract of land that lies two days away from here."

"Surely the hobbits in the Eastfarthing are trying to locate the bandits' headquarters so they can rescue the kidnapped children. If they can't find them, and they know that territory so well, I expect the bandits have chosen a very clever spot to hide."

"In any case, unless the scout was very clever, he'd probably end up dead. The minute the bandits see a hobbit face near their headquarters, they're going to strike out as hard and fast as they can."

"So you're saying that we should sit here and do nothing?"

"No, but I am saying to use common sense. Before you send a group out on some wild chase, first find out from the hobbits who live in the Eastfarthing exactly what they've learned about these men."

It was at this point that Prim stood up and cleared her throat, "Maura, that's exactly what I was thinking. There's a fellow staying at the Inn whom Mayor Sam or the Shirriff might want to speak with. He's a trader, a decent sort of hobbit, who hails out of Whitfurrows. He's apparently heard a thing or two about these bandits and knows exactly what the folk there have done to try and find the children."

Maura immediatey responded, "That's just the kind of information we need. Any chance this fellow would be willing to come and talk to us tonight?"

Prim shrugged her shoulders. "I couldn't say, but I know he's at the Inn, so I could easily slip out and ask him, and see if he'd agree to do that."

Mayor Sam nodded his head and even the Shirriff seemed interested to hear this news. So it was quickly agreed that Mistress Prim should return to the Inn, and try and locate the gentlehobbit in question, while the rest continued their discussion in the Town Hall.

[ April 03, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Cotman Bolger of Stock waited in his room until the gathering of Hobbits in the Common room had dispersed. He kept an eye out his window for their departure, as he sat in the overstuffed chair he had pulled up to it and smoked a pipe or two. At long last, he saw them dribbling out in twos and threes, some of them still talking heatedly to each other.

He had ventured down earlier, and hearing a little of their angry speeches, decided he did not want to participate. ‘No use making general accusations and getting yourself all worked up,’ he thought to himself. In his long career as a trader from Bree to Bywater he had met many of the Big Folk, and for the most part he found them no worse and no better than Hobbits. Both races had their good points and their bad. ‘And some of each, it’s sad to say are just plain rotten to the core.’

Mistress Piosenniel was kind enough to draw him a half pint and fetch him a bite to eat from the deserted kitchen. All of the staff having gone to the meeting called by the Mayor at the Town Hall. He had just settled in at a table by the small fire, with his sandwich and his ale, when Prim came rushing through the front door of the Inn. He was surprised when she approached him, asking him to come speak to those gathered at the Mayor’s meeting.

‘I can’t for the life of me think that I would have anything of any importance to say, Miz Prim. I only passed through Whitfurrows on my way here.’

Prim fixed him with a cold eye. ‘You must know something of what’s going on, Cotman. I know you told Cook enough to upset her. Just come and let them ask some questions and see what you can fill in for them. Cotman sighed, and took a last swig of ale, then pulling on his light jacket, he followed Prim out of the inn and toward the meeting.

It was the skilful questioning of Sam that finally brought the details to light. Cotman, at first, had been bombarded with questions, shouted out willy-nilly from the crowd, he was tongue tied and muddled, pulled here and there by the desperate eagerness of the group for information.

It was in Bree, Cotman said that he’d first heard rumours from his Hobbit customers about certain, unsavory Big Folk grumbling about the raw hand they’d been dealt since the King made his proclamation. Just grumblings though, and those had started, as far as he could recall around New Year’s time, just after the first of the winter brewings were done.

Several months later he recalled he was moving some stock of tea, salt, and sugar through Budge Ford, and on up to Scary and Brockenborings, and all along the way he heard stories Big Folks being seen, always, of course at a distance and at dusk or later, and always disappearing down some small ravine or dip in the land and disappearing. Not regular sightings, but just enough to keep the topic fresh in the conversations heard round the Inns in the area.

Some of the good folk in the lowland area of the East Farthing - Yale, as he remembered - got together with their neighbors in Whitfurrows and Budge Ford and hiked about looking for any real clues to these sightings. They had covered a large area over the span of several days and found nothing for their trouble. It was beginning to be thought that folk were conjuring up phantoms from the evening shadows.

Then the phantoms had turned real just a week or so ago. Two small children had been snatched. No notes were left asking for any sort of ransom, and not a clue could be found of where they had been taken, though a large party of searchers had once again combed the area. Hobbits in the East Farthing were frightened. Guards had been set up at Hay Gate to monitor all who crossed into the Shire proper from the East.

Someone stood up and asked about the two children who were taken. Did the kidnappers steal into a burrow late at night and take them from their beds?

‘Now that I do know a little more about,’ he said. ‘I know one of the families. The child had a habit of wandering off on his own and not paying attention to the wishes of his parents. He had sneaked out late at night, bent on some errand of his own and never returned. About nine or ten, I think he was. The other child was younger, and wandered away from the family at an evening picnic supper, following some whim of his own, or so I heard.’


Rumour and conjecture were growing. There were tales spreading that Big Folk had crossed the Brandywine south of Buckland and were planning an attack from the Overbourne Marshes. Or that enclaves of them were hiding in Woody End or north of Woodhall. Each of these reports had been checked out by the local deputy and a duly formed band of searchers, but nothing of any substance had been found.

‘It’s funny,’ he said, drawing his comments to an end. ‘The country side seems to just swallow them up, and we can’t find them no matter where we look . . .’

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cotman was about to slip out of the meeting when Maura pulled him aside and squeezed out a few last tidbits of information. He pressed the trader on how organized the search had been, and whether or not they'd used folk who had tracking skills.

Cotman shook his head. "That one's easy. There were plenty of complaints about how things were handled."

"At first, all the local hobbits turned out, including lots of folk who didn't know the first thing about scouting. They tramped all over the countryside and destroyed whatever clues existed. Not surprisingly, they came up with nothing."

"The Shirriff was under pressure, so he finally sent out his most experienced folk. These fellows knew what they were doing, but still came up with nothing."

On hearing this gloomy assessment, Maura thanked Cotman for his willingness to talk and bade him good evening. The latter hastily made a retreat back to the Inn, glad to be free of all the questioning and the feeling of frustration that hung over the room.

When Maura rejoined Cami, he pulled her outside for a moment, "This is going nowhere. We've come up with some good ideas about how to organize things here. But we still don't know who these bandits are, or where they're from, or what they want."

"Hob may be irritating, but he's right. Without knowing those answers, we can't really prepare or fight back. For all we know, these fellows may be skulking around in Hobbiton right now and overhearing everything we say!"

Cami made a face and sighed, "I hope it's not that bad. But what Cotman said gave me a sour feeling in the pit of my stomach. When I heard how those boys wandered off without the permission of their parents, all I could see in my own mind was a great big picture of Gamba and his brothers. Maura, you know how they are. I try my best, but it's not like Holly. I keep telling them to be careful and stick close to the Inn. Gamba kisses me on the head, tells me not to worry, and then proceeds to go off and do whatever he thinks best."

Maura nodded, "It doesn't make me comfortable either. I'll speak with Gamba again, and tell him what we've heard. I'm not so worried about the daytime. It's the hours after sunset when they need to stick close. I'll ask Lindo to keep a closer eye on things. That should help too."

"You know, Cami, there's one person who might be able to help us with all of this."

"I know, I know, don't say anything. I sat and thought about it all through the meeting. I haven't seen her in several days. Once or twice, I even looked up in the rafters and swore I say a black and white form hidden in the shadows. And another time, I heard a beak tap against the windowpane. But, when I turned to look, there was nothing.

Anyways, how many times can I ask my friends to go into danger to bail me out? Espcially when some of my own people are so suspicious. She looked imploringly into Maura's eyes, searching for an answer.

His words came back with no hesitation. But Cami, these are children, hobbit children, who have no defenses of their own.

"You're right, I know. Alright, let me start by talking to Pio and see if she thinks this is a reasonable idea. You go back into the meeting. I'll slip out and head for the Inn. We'll meet at the burrow later tonight."

"And, Maura," she added. "Would you make sure to track down Gamba and Lindo before you leave and talk to them?"

"Don't worry. I promise." With that, he turned and went inside just as Sam read off the list of hobbit who had volunteered to organize patrols to keep an eye on the roads after dark.

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