The Lonely Star -- Chapter 4

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami looked at the boy in surprise. He'd never said that before. She thought about the road they'd travelled, and some of her anger melted away. But their journey wasn't done. In fact, it was barely beginning. Unless they learned to talk to each other, really talk, they'd never make it down the road.

"I know Gamba, I know." She wrapped her arms about the boy, trying to reassure him.

How gracefully Mithadan had spoken to Gamba. He seemed to understand just what to say. What a great father the twins were going to have!

If only she had someone like that, a man whom Gamba could trust and see as a model. What kind of a model could she possibly make for a young male hobbit? She felt woefully incompetent, unable to influence what he did or felt. Rose had been impulsive, but not like this.

If Maura was here, maybe he'd know what to do. Then, she wouldn't be blundering along, making mistake after mistake. Everything she tried seemed to backfire, ending up with an even bigger mess.

Cami's eyes filled with tears as she stepped back and turned to look him in the eye. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me. But something is wrong. First sneaking Kesha aboard, and now this."

"Why can't you trust me? I'm not trying to make you miserable. Why can't you just come to me and talk?"

He evaded her eyes and looked away.

"I'm not one of the guards in the Tombs. I can't force you to do anything, even if I wanted to. And I don't want to. Mostly, you're going to make your own choices. And I'd like to be part of those choices, but you have to let me in because you want me."

"And sometimes, I am going to give you an order, even if you don't like it, especially if I feel you're doing something that could hurt someone, either yourself or somebody else."

"Just think a minute. What if someone had found out about the hobbits, and tried to prevent us from sailing north because of your visit to the Inn? How would you have felt?"

Gamba squirmed uncomfortably, and shook his head, "Not very good." Then he started to walk away.

Cami reached over and pulled him back. "No, running away doesn't solve anything. I'm an expert on that."

"Gamba, having you call me mother is one of the most miraculous things that's ever happened to me, but I can't be your mother unless you really let me, no matter what we call each other. First, you have to trust me enough not to challenge everything I do or say. And second, you have to let me into your heart, into the place where Phura and Esta are. There's no other way. If you can't do those things, then we can't build a family, and maybe we shouldn't even try."

Cami turned to Gamba with a pounding heart waiting for his answer.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

He turned toward her, his face twisting. "Into the place-- the place--" He stared at her, slack-jawed. Esta's place? Phura's place?

Just as Cami realised she might not have put the question very well, or perhaps too well, Gamba disintegrated once again, as the sudden realization crashed into his soul. He had lost Esta, and that had been horrible. What did he think losing Phura and Azraph was going to be like? And how soon would that happen?

His eyes went wild, his precarious self control disintegrated yet again, and Cami suddenly realised his despairing, gasping sobs were echoing through the entire harbor. Mithadan's head popped back up the hatch in alarm, and he beckoned them below. Cami tried to respond, but not fast enough; Mithadan ran forward, snatched the boy and dodged below, into Cami's cabin, where his howls echoed and seemed louder still.

Mithadan siezed a pillow, and thrust it at Gamba. "Cry into this." Gamba obeyed, and more importantly, realised that Mithadan was concerned about the noise, and met his gaze, and tried hard to choke everything back. Mithadan watched him struggling, as Cami appeared, one hand against her own head, and waved him out. "Thanks. I'll see if I can't fix this."

Mithadan nodded, and stepped out, once again ruffling Gamba's hair as he squeaked and wheezed. Gamba winced as he did, thinking that he was going to lose Mithadan too. Who wouldn't he lose?

The boys. Rose. And Cami.

He reached for Cami, and burrowed against her shoulder, and then reached for the pillow again, put that against her shoulder, and cried into it some more. When he quieted a little, he choked out, "I'll try, Mom. I'll really try." And he clutched her tightly until he was quite done crying, at least for the evening.

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

Gamba had slept much of the day, and so was not very tired. For a while he lay awake, next to Phura, wrestling with his heartache, and when he couldn't stand it anymore, he slipped out again, and wandered the ship. He roamed aimlessly over the whole thing, and the fourth time he passed Mithadan and Pio's cabin, he sat down outside the door.

He seemed to have a pattern, he thought; he could spend months or years around a person, and still only realise how much that person meant to him a few days or weeks before he lost them forever.

Esta. Loremaster. Phura. Azraph. Kesha. Bird. Levanto.

And now, surprisingly, Mithadan. He longed to tag along beside the man and ask him question after question, about decisions, about duty, about hangovers, and inns, and freedom, and ships, and about command and obedience; but most especially, about growing up, and why it was so hard.

But it was no good. He was about to lose him, forever, and the opportunity was gone. A single tear trickled down Gamba's face, and he leaned back against the doorpost, utterly miserable, and wished he had sought out Mithadan long ago.

And then he stood, and dashed the tear away. There was another he would lose soon, and he, thought Gamba, might be awake. He clambered rapidly up the ladder, and ran out onto the stern. "Levanto!"

There was a soft answer, and Gamba threw himself overboard into the soothing, cool water beside his friend.

Several on the docks started at the splash, and one queried incredulously, "Man overboard?"

"Not at all, my good sir; do not trouble yourself. Enjoy the delightful evening air, " Levanto soothed him. The man puzzled at the voice which came from the water and not the ship, but all seemed still again, and he shrugged.

Levanto smiled sadly at Gamba. "Now, if he had said, Hobbit Overboard, I couldn't have denied it, could I?"

They talked about many deep and serious things until just before dawn, at which point Gamba shinnied back up the anchor chain, and climbed dripping over the rail. He sneezed a lot for the next several days.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

It was just the hour before dawn. The fat, full moon, wisps of clouds surrounding it, was sinking below the White City like a shadow wraith. Pio stood at the helm deck railing and watched Isil’s downward course, then turned to look eastward where the sun would soon appear above the Ephel Dúath. She shuddered, thinking how in times to come these mountains, the fence of Mordor would house all sorts of shadow creatures.

‘Are you cold?’ he asked, coming silently to stand beside her. Mithadan raised his arm and drew her close against him, beneath the shelter of his cloak.

She moved against his warmth, and smiled at him. ‘Not cold. Just thinking of all the darkness those mountains will ring from the eyes of those yet to come in Minas Anor.' They stood for a while looking east, in companionable silence, until Anar had thrown her first rays into the sky. She laughed as the light lit up some small clouds scudding along the rim of the mountains. ‘Yet still there will be light, will there not, and hope.’

She placed her hand over his on the rail. ‘Our task is almost done, Mithadan.’ She smiled, thinking of it. ‘And I was just thinking about something . . .’ she continued. Mithadan looked askance at her, his eyebrows raised. ‘Nothing of great concern!’ she laughed, ‘Or anything that will impede the completion of this task which now draws near.’ He relaxed against her, the brief glimmer of doubt now gone from his eyes.

‘A question first.’ she began. ‘When do you expect we shall have the provisioned ships ready for the transfer of the Hobbits? How long do you think it will take for us to get them to Rauros and see them safely off? I would very much like to pilot one of them also, if possible. Being busy will keep me from any more trouble on the Star.’ Pio shook her head at the ups and downs of these last few days.

‘Once we are done with the ships of Gondor,’ she went on, ‘what shall we do with them then? Could we possibly take two of them with us, when we leave to return to our Age? Bird could have one for her use, if she so wished it. And if not, then we could use both of them to let out for hire, while we kept the Star. Would that be a possibility . . .?’

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan looked thoughtful for a moment. "The ships should be ready by the end of the day today. We have chartered most of them with crews and supplies. We will own three outright, so of course you may pilot one. Then two days out to the Bay given that we'll be moving with the current. Most of another day to transfer our passengers and about a week going against the current to reach Rauros."

He smiled for a moment. "Once we let our passengers off including the Hobbrim, there will only be three of us left: myself, you and Bird plus Levanto of course. We'd be hard pressed to sail the Star let alone take another vessel with us. I had thought to arrange for the sale of the three ships today before we set out on this final task."

Piosenniel chuckled. "I had forgotten that we three will be all that remain. Perhaps we can use the proceeds of the sale to buy a vessel for Bird if she wants one. And there is that pretty dagger that you've managed to keep." She sighed. "A fortnight and then our crew will be broken up at last."

He nodded and reached out to stroke her hair. "All things must end," he said. "I am learning this," she replied sadly.

[ December 19, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[piosenniel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

At the first glint of light on the horizon, Cami awoke and went up the ladder to the main deck. She stood at the railing, surveying the Bay. For a minute, standing there in the soft mists of the morning, she missed the presence of Angara who would normally have been sitting atop the mast throwing heckling comments down at her.

The Elven fleet was harbored close to shore, with the new Mannish ships that had just sailed in behind the Star standing off in deeper waters. Cami felt her heart clutch as she remembered what would happen in the next few days.

She could already see the small skiffs churning through the Bay, loaded down with all the common supplies they'd stored below deck. The Elves were transporting them over to the ships that would be going back to Gondor. After breakfast, they'd be carrying hobbits as well. Cami had made a neat long list, truly her last of the voyage, with all the names neatly inscribed, showing what ship each family would be on for the journey.

Staring towards the east for a long while, she suddenly became aware of the welcome presence of Rose who had slipped quietly up and now stood near her elbow. Cami turned around and smiled. "I've missed you. It's not been easy."

Rose nodded, "Daisy told me. I enjoyed my stay on the Elven ship with Annee. We just wanted to see what one was like. But I've missed you too. I came back with the skiff that was carrying supplies to the Star."

Rose impulsively reached out and patted Cami's shoulder. She could see the look of worry that still shown in her aunt's eyes. "Is Gamba alright? And what about you?"

Cami sighed, "I hope so. We're working through a lot of anger and sadness. I guess you've heard it all. He cried on my shoulder last night. Then he went back to his brother's cabin and eventually roamed around a bit on his own. When he went swimming with Levanto, I kept a distant eye just to make sure he was alright. Of course he doesn't know that."

"You used to do that for me as well, didn't you? One time, I saw you, and then I figured out you'd been there other times as well."

Cami laughed, "My secrets are out, but then mothers sometimes do things like that, especially when they're worried."

Rose looked over at Aunt Cami. For her, too, the woman had become more like 'mother' than aunt, although neither of them had ever chosen to put that into words.

Rose spoke softly, "I've never thanked you for taking me in when my grandparents passed on, or for agreeing that we'd go together on this voyage. It's something I'll never forget."

"I'll never forget it either," responded Cami. "I don't think I could have survived without you, certainly not in the Camps or the Tombs."

"Rose, I've been thinking. It might have been easier on you without Gamba or the younger boys. You know it's going to take a while for things to straighten out in our family."

With a mischievous smile on her face, Rose looked towards Cami, "That's probably true, but I don't mind. The boys are sweet, and Gamba makes things interesting. I've always wanted brothers, and now you've gotten me a passel. I'll whip them into shape."

"I expect you will, Mistress Rose!" Cami looked over at the girl. Rose had grown so much since coming to the Star. Then she added, "I suspect they will keep us both busy for a while. But, enough of that. Let's go below and get some breakfast. Hot pots of honnied tea, mushrooms and sausage and eggs and buttered scones. Only the best for our last days on the Star. Then we'll come back up with the others and watch the skiffs do their job with the hobbits."

By mid-morning, the fleet should be ready to leave and begin its journey back towards the River.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Phura sat up and counted the five boys, fondly, and looked over at the damp-haired, snoring Gamba. For some strange reason, Gamba had left all the boys with him a great deal lately. Phura had not complained; as much as he was going to miss the four young ones, he had determined to enjoy their company as much as he could. And once he saw that Nitir and Gamba were working things out, he gave them as much time as he could together.

But he wished that Gamba had been around more. He got up and walked over to his snoring brother, and laid a hand on his shoulder, expecting him to be warm to the touch. But he was not. "Gamba. Why are you cold? And damp?"

Gamba woke, and sat up, and sneezed several times. "I went swimming with Levanto, " he said.

Phura nodded. "You'll miss him. There'll be too many goodbyes."

"Don't." Gamba's face twisted.

Phura faltered, and fell silent, and watched as his brother struggled for composure; he reached for little Maura, picked him up, and handed him to Gamba.

"Thanks, " said Gamba, and held the boy close, as he stirred and reluctantly woke up. "Gamba. Breakfast?" The child squirmed, and Phura woke the rest of them, and they all groggily trooped to the galley. Phura hummed The Snowbattle Of Ladros, and everyone but Ban and Maura hummed along.

"You'll get to see snow, if you go far enough north, " Phura smiled.

"Don't, " said Gamba.

Phura sighed, and fell silent.

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ December 20, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mithadan]

At last, the Hobbits had been transferred to their new ships. Cami checked her lists twice to ensure that none had been overlooked and all were where they should be. Then Mithadan ordered the anchor weighed and the sails raised. The Lonely Star turned slowly back towards the east and made its way back towards the mouth of the Anduin.

Gamba climbed up to the helm deck and stood beside him shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Mithadan smiled down at the young Hobbit, but refrained from ruffling his hair. Instead, he put his hand on the lad's shoulder and pulled him before the wheel. "Its a day to the mouth of the river and two more until we pass Minas Anor," he said. "Not much time to learn seamanship. But for now, would you like to steer?" The Hobbit's eyes shone as he placed his hands on the wooden wheel and turned his face into the wind...

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami had spent most of the afternoon sorting out hobbits and supplies on the Star. She was filtering through the heaps of provisions one last time when Bird came in and offered to help raid the Galley and to pack up some of the preserved foods the hobbits would need for their journey north.

As they worked together, the two women chatted and laughed about the time they'd spent on the Star, saying how things in a tale never turned out to be quite what you expected. Soon, Cami found herself talking with Bird about what her friend might do after returning to the Fourth Age.

After they'd discussed several plans and possibilities, Cami put her hand over Bird's and stared her straight in the eye. "I just hope you'll follow through on looking for you kin. Search and find them, as I've found mine. It will mean a lot."

Then she added, "I'll make you a promise. Wherever I go, I'll search for clues to the shapechanger puzzle. And, if I find anything at all, I'll get back to you some way. Promise me. Don't forget! Keep looking for the clues I'll send. They'll be there, somewhere."

Bird nodded, her face serious and thoughtful, "We'll look, Pio and I together. I won't forget what you've promised."

When Cami left the galley to return above, she saw Gamba with Mithadan. The boy was at the helm, his hands gripped tightly on the wheel, learning how to steer the vessel. Mithadan stood right behind him, near his shoulder, and kept a close watch on what he was doing, but did not interfere.

That's the way it should be, Cami thought. Let them learn by doing on their own, and try to stand back as much as you dare. But always be there looking on. She smiled at the sight, then slipped away to leave the two of them to their adventure.

[ December 22, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

They had come four days journey upriver, and were anchored for the evening just south of Cair Andros. Daylight, it had been decided, would be the best time to pass through the narrow channel to the west of the Ship of Long-Foam. The eastern channel they deemed too narrow for the width of the ships to sail through safely.

Like a great ship, its prow facing upstream, the long thin island lay anchored in the Anduin, some leagues north of Minas Anor, between the provinces of Anórien and North Ithilien. It broke the waters of the great river into two narrower streams as they flowed around it.

To the east of it, in North Ithilien, was the area that would be known as Hennuth Annûn, the Window of Sunset, the series of caves hidden behind a high waterfall, facing west over the vales of the Anduin. And between the caves and the river’s bank lay the Field of Cormallen. ‘Strange to pass by what will become the history already in my mind.’ she thought to herself.

Pio stood at the bow of the Gull’s Wing and looked toward the east where the faint moon was already rising into the evening sky. She had looked with fresh eyes at the treasury of history which lay along the Anduin as the ships passed upstream - Pelargir, the ancient port of Gondor; the Emyn Arnen, Royal Hills, which marked the boundary between South and North Ithilien; Minas Anor and its twin to the east, Minas Ithil – in darker days known as Minas Tirith and Minas Morgul; and the Citadel of the Stars, Osgiliath, spread out on both sides of the river.

Voronmir hailed her, calling her from her thoughts. There were details of the ship to be seen to, to make ready for tomorrow’s passage. History stepped aside for the concerns of the present, as she made her rounds with him. Satisfied that all was at last in order, she returned to the bow and took a seat at the rail, letting her mind drift with the currents once again.

Once they had passed the length of Cair Andros and returned to the main channel of the river, she thought, it would be just three days until they reached the area of the Falls. It would be her last time to see Cami . . .

[ December 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

Phura and Kali sat up on the bow, looking back over The Lonely Star. Kali's gaze strayed everywhere, taking everything in, trying to fix it all in his mind, lingering on each person. Phura's gaze strayed also, but always he returned to Gamba, still at the wheel again, with a patient Mithadan giving orders, and an eager, if nervous, Gamba carrying them out.

Kali spoke. "So is being a hobbrim everything you thought it would be-- or are you disappointed?"

Phura smiled. "I did not know what to dream. I knew I loved the storms, and the sea. And I wanted to dance, with the storms, with the sea, the waves, the deep. And I am not disappointed." He looked at Kali, and smiled. "But I was surprised to find that not only did the dream bring a change to me, but to others also, and that I gained kin I never knew I had."

Kali nodded. "I went from having no family, to having more cousins than I can keep track of. Well, almost."

Phura laughed, knowing that Kali, only less than Andril, knew each and every one of his cousins by name and knew about each one. Kali did keep track of them all. Phura's mmory kept lore and a few faces and hearts; Kali's mind kept faces and hearts, and some lore. They would make a good team.

Azraph and Daisy joined them, and the four sat together a while more, and reflected on the strange course that they had all journeyed on. Daisy spoke of her time on the Star, and she reminisced about their first meeting with Kali.

Phura smiled. "I remember watching al those hobbrim swim down the river-tunnel, and now knowing what to think of them. I never thought, then, that I would become one."

Daisy tipped her head to one side. "But how did your dream work then? What did you think you would become?"

"Either a water-bird, or perhaps a sea-serpent, " Phura shrugged. "That's how I interpreted the song."

"And what about me, hmmm? What was I supposed to do, or be, when you were off being a sea-serpent? Or a bird?" Azraph accused him, playfully. Phura got nervous.

"I didn't know how it would work, " he admitted. "I only knew it was something that I would have to do. And I was terrified that you might not be able to do it with me."

"Well, " said Daisy, holding Kali's hand, "I'm very glad that Ulmo showed up, and changed us."

Phura, thinking of Ancalimon's words, nodded, and remembering, murmured, "The kind of change you seek can only be given by Eru; but sometimes he does delegate such things."

"I'm glad he did, " Azraph replied. Daisy nodded.

Kali stood, laughing. "I may be more glad then all of you. Who's to know?" He gestured over the rail. "And now, what about this river? We may never see one quite like this again."

Phura called, and Kesha joined them; and one by one, they dove over the rail. Phura was the last to go, and he looked over his shoulder, and saw Gamba watching. Phura met his eyes, and slowly, Gamba nodded. Phura nodded back, hesitating. And Gamba nodded again. "Go!"

Phura dove in, and Gamba returned his eyes to the far horizon, knowing that he had his own exploring to do.

Cami had told Gamba that she was looking forward to seeing Loremaster Maura again, beyond the circles of the world, and hoping that he would have many tales of Tol Fuin to tell her. Well, then, in the same way, Phura should have a collection of tales about the Abyss, and Gamba decided that he had best build up his own collection of adventures, about the Langwell River, and the Greenwood. He decided to live life to its fullest, and meet the north head-on, and create a tale worth telling. Perhaps, along with Phura and Azraph, Esta would also be waiting to hear his tale.

He hoped so.

[mark12_30]

As the hobbrim prepared to come back on board, Phura sought out the dolphin swimming beside The Lonely Star with Levanto, that had frolicked and gamboled with them and gotten them more tired than they otherwise would have.

He met her gaze. "Please, Bird, come speak with me on board for a moment."

The dolphin glicked and chirped, and dove, gaining speed. Phura shinnied up the rope Gamba dangled for them. But Bird, rising rapidly from the depths, leaped into the air, soared up over the rail, morphed on the way down, and landed gracefully on the deck. She tossed her hair in satisfaction.

"You've really perfected that, " Phura said with admiration.

"Thanks, " she said, her dark eyes sparkling.

"Bird, " he began.

"I hate goodbyes, " she snapped.

"I know. This isn't a goodbye. It's a thank-you."

"For what?" she said, puzzled.

He took her hands, and kissed them. "For my dream."

"Ummm... but Phura, don't you remember? It was all wrong."

"No, " he replied. "It wasn't all wrong. You did change me."

"What? How?"

"By opening Lindo's heart. If you hadn't planted the love of storms and wild open spaces into him, he couldn't have planted it into generation after generation of hobbits. It was as if you planted the first seed, and every generation after that harvested the fruit and saved the seeds, and planted them again. Without that first little seed, where would the dream have been?"

Bird pushed a stray lock behind one ear. "Oh." She laughed a little. "Oh. Well, thanks."

"No, " Phura replied. "Thank you." And he reached up, as he and Lindo had both been so tempted to do, and touched her hair. He could barely reach.

She knelt down. He carefully took one lock of her black hair into his hands, and carefully added the white streak to it, and gently held them both across his open palm, and whispered,

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

His whisper faded into silence; he lifted the two locks of hair to his lips, and kissed them, and then stepping back, released them into the wind again, gazing with affection and gratitude into her deep, wild eyes.

[ December 23, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

The passage round Cair Andros had been negotiated safely. Pio had asked Voronmir to take the helm for it, and he had brought the Gull’s Wing through without a bump or scrape. She had taken the wheel back from him once they were passed the islet, and now a day and evening later found herself bringing the ship to anchor at one of the middle mouths of the Entwash as it emptied into the Anduin. Tomorrow they would draw near their first sighting of the great cliff that marked the western edge of the Emyn Muil and formed the eastern boundary of Rohan. It was here that the waters of the Anduin fell in a roaring foam from the height of the Emyn Muil, and rushed again southward to the bay. They would put in a short distance south of the Falls to avoid the turbulence caused by the churning waters.

For this last day of the trip, Pio ceded the piloting of the Gull to Voronmir. She wished to spend the last day of river journey aboard the Star. Thanking the man for his assistance and his friendship, she packed her few possessions and returned to her ship. Once aboard she stowed her pack below and went seeking her friends.

Mithadan was busy with the ship. He nodded as she smiled and waved at him as she passed, his attention focused on the task at hand – the parceling out of supplies, she thought, that the Hobbits would take with them when they left.

Her heart skipped a beat at these last words – ‘when they left.’ Her eyes sought out Cami, who stood at the bow looking to the north where soon she would lead her little band. Such a small body to house the large, brave spirit within. She climbed the stairs to the helm, coming quietly along side her, and stood close to her, arm touching arm. A brief moment passed in easy silence, then, Pio placed her hand over Cami’s, saying simply, ‘I will miss you beyond all measure, dear friend. Yet saying so, I would also speed you on your way.’ She laughed at her words. ‘Yes, I am in two minds about this. One wishes you the best as you set out to the long completion of the task appointed you now. And the other wants only to freeze time for my own selfish benefit.’

She crouched down, to be at the same level as the Hobbit. Grey eyes regarded brown eyes deeply. ‘I know where your heart lies though, and I would not make it hard for you to leave. I will always love you, my stout-hearted friend, and my memory will be long and clear of you. And when my children can understand the words I speak to them, they will learn how we were friends and what a large heart you had to deal with such an errant Elf as I. They will cherish your memory, as will their children’s children.’

Tears threatened along the Elf’s lashes and she blinked them away. Smiling, she hugged Cami for a long moment, and then held her at arms length. ‘Come.’ she said, taking her friend’s hand and leading her from the railing. ‘Let us do something ordinary together to pass the time for now. We have the rest of this evening and much of tomorrow before we anchor near the Falls. Suppertime is nearing – let’s see what we can find in the larder and make the crew something tasty for tonight. You make the stew - I am sure I saw a large jar of dried mushrooms down there last time I looked. I shall see what I can find to make us some tasty pies for a treat.’

She hurried her friend down the steps and into the pantry. ‘Well, let us see what we can find . . .’

[ December 26, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami scampered about the galley, digging into pantries and bins to see if there was anything that they could salvage for the evening meal. She found a jar with dried mushrooms hidden near the back of the larder, a second with root vegetables, and a large barrel overflowing with freshly caught fish. She stared at the fish and sighed.

For a moment, her thoughts turned back with longing to those foods she'd known and loved as a child in the Shire--hot tea with honey, pots of steaming black coffee, cold chicken and pickles served on a sideboard, and fried fish with chips. The food brought memories of parties and shared suppers and teas where friends and family had gathered.

No chance for most of that now. The tea and coffee were long gone, as was the honey. Many of these foodstuffs would not likely be available where she was going. But, whatever Pio suggested, she sternly vowed not to settle for another bowl of fish stew for her last real night on the Star. Perhaps a fine mess of root vegetables with mushrooms. Just no more stewed fish!

Cami continued rummaging about in the recesses of the larder when she turned to Pio and announced with delight, "Look what I've found." There were several pails left aside, apparently destined for the garbage detail, that had somehow been missed.

Two days ago, before they slipped passed Minas Anor for the last time, a hunting party had gone ashore, and brought back a fresh kill of venison. They'd made short order of that rare treat, but someone had rendered the fat from the buck and left it sitting in these pails.

"Fried fish, it is!" Cami proclaimed triumphantly, grabbing her pans and stoking the fire to heat up the lard until it bubbled.

Pio smiled at the sight of her friend scurrying about the kitchen, as if that were her only concern in the world. They chatted together about this and that, and then the Elf asked if Cami knew where the hobbits would be going.

The woman shrugged, "We'll see. North, I'm sure. But that's all I really know. Gandalf said there'd be folk waiting on the river bank to help us with the last leg of the journey. Today, I had the elders come to my cabin, and discuss our different choices, and we promised the three clans would stay together, at least for now."

Cami glanced over towards Pio, "You know I shall miss you, and everyone on the Star. I have said this once, but I'll say it again. I owe you and Mithadan and Bird a debt that can't be repaid. I would stuff you all into my satchel and take you along if I could."

Cami stared determinedly out the small porthole. "It's so hard. So many roads, and so many choices. Just when you find friends, something happens in life and sends you careening in another direction, down a fork you hadn't even known about before. Only I am sure this is the right fork for me."

"But there's one other thing I wanted to say. I told Bird earlier. Wherever the hobbits go, I intend to keep a sharp eye open for shapechangers, If I discover anything, anything at all that might help your search, I'll figure out a way to get the clues back to you. So don't forget to look, after you get home."

Within a short space of time, the two women finished their cooking preparations and had the evening meal laid out on long tables that were covered with clean white cloths. Soon the others made their way down to the galley, both for food and a final evening of companionship.

It was a cheery time, with ample dishes and talking and singing. There was even a story or two to be told. Several of the hobbits pulled out their flutes, and one had a very old fiddle, passed down from father to son. They cleared away the tables to dance, and passed their last evening on the Star in pleasantries and friendship, then split up early to retire to their beds in preparation for the morning.

At the very end of the night, when most had returned to their cabins, Cami went above to whisper her goodbyes to the ship, just as she'd bid farewell to the hidden isle of Meneltarma. I shall never forget you, or the folk you brought to me. I cannot be a sailor or one who dwells in the water like the hobbrim or Levanto, but you have taught me why others love the Sea so fiercely and give their hearts to Ulmo. Goodbye, bright Star. My own path lies with the green fields and the forests, but I shall not forget the music of the waves. That, and my feelings for my friends, will stay forever sealed in my heart.

[ December 26, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The sun rose fair and golden, as the Star sailed north up the Anduin, with its flotilla clinging close behind. Most of the hobbits had risen early and stood on deck beside the railing, watching as the vessel cut its course up river, slowly approaching the western bank.

Just behind them, to their left, they could see the bright waters of the Entwash splashing down across fertile plains to join up with the Great River. The misty outline of the Rauros Falls loomed ahead, its voice thundering from peak to peak. The sound was so loud and insistent that little Maura covered his ears. Tall cliffs veered upward on either side, with the solitary isle of Tol Brandir standing like a sentinel in the middle, surrounded by churning waters that roared down towards the great falls.

On the left bank stood Amon Lhaw, and on the right, Amon Hen, the ancient Seats of Hearing and Seeing. The North Stair, the only direct access to the cliffs for portage, could barely be seen with all the spray and mist that spewed out from the rushing waters.

Cami and Rose stood next to Gamba, with Phura and the boys clustered behind. Cami tried to explain as much as she could. Every now and then Piosenniel or Bird would cut in and point out something that she hadn't known before. Mithadan stood by himself at the helm of the ship, guiding the Star towards the western bank of the River, to a safe spot just beneath the basin of the falls.

With the exception of the Star and the three ships that would be going forward into the Fouth Age, the others were to unload their hobbit cargo and return immediately to Minas Anor. Word of the strange visitors would undoubtedly reach the streets of the City. But, by then, the hobbits should be on their way north, only a distant rumor to the Men who ruled the Kingdom of Gondor.

It was Cami who first saw the party awaiting them on the river bank, and tugged at Gamba's arm to get his attention. There seemed to be a small group of Elves looking up in the direction of the Star, all clad in green and brown, with bows slung over their backs.

Piosenniel leaned over and whispered to her, "Silvan elves from Greenwood, sent by King Thranduil, I believe."

"And, look there, Cami," she whispered, pointing to a tall figure, with a fair and noble face, "His son Legolas leads the group."

But, who is that? Pio wondered, straining her eyes towards the tallest member of the party. Yes, he did look familiar, although he was not one whom she had expected to see.

A single tall fellow walked in the midst of the Elves whom Cami took to be a wizard of some sort. For one moment, the woman's heart soared as she thought to greet Gandalf again, as he had promised her on the isle of Meneltarma. But a second look caused her to start, for this was definitely not Gandalf.

Instead of robes of grey, the tall wizard was decked in simple attire of brown, so that he almost blended into the earth and trees. His shoulders were slightly stooped, and the parts of his body did not quite seem to fit together, at least in any organized way. Nor did he have Gandalf's air of certainty and command, or the hint of strength that lay underneath. There was no sword at his side, only a thick wood cudgel. His hand grasped a crooked brown staff that looked to be little more than a walking stick that had been wrenched off a neighboring tree. Yet there was an air of goodness and decency about him that transcended his haphazard appearance.

Still, Cami was puzzled. This was not what she'd been expecting. Altogether, this wizard posed a strange sight. Only in his eyes, deep brown and filled with a hint of some distant light, was there any indication that he might be something more than his simple robes and crooked stick suggested.

Rose leaned over to her friend and whispered, "Cami, did Gandalf say anything of that tall fellow, the one dressed in brown?"

"No, I've no idea who he is," she replied, her voice a bit hestitent. "I've neither seen or heard of him before."

Mithadan called down from the helm, "This is as close as I can safely bring the Star. Set the skiffs down over the side, and start offloading the hobbits. The other ships will need to do the same. I expect we'll all be spending the night here."

We are here, Cami thought, her relief mingled with concern. She climbed down the ladder and slipped into the skiff, with Rose at her side, as they headed towards the shore and the party awaiting there.

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

save: Phura and Gamba

[Child of the 7th Age]

The brown wizard stood apart from the band of Elves and walked towards the lead skiff that was already landing near the shore. For a moment, he stood quietly by himself, staring intently at the passengers in the boat, as if he was struggling to remember something that threatened to slip from his mind. He finally fixed his eyes on the two hobbits who were setting foot on the muddy bank of the river, along with an Elf and a raven-haired woman who followed just behind.

"Camelia Goodchild? Rose Goodchild?" The wizard peered down at the two small figures, adjusting his wire spectacles, which were about to slip off from his nose. Turning aside for a moment, his face a mask of concentration, he began searching for something under his belt and within the folds of his brown robe.

"Now where did I put that?" he muttered to himself, as he explored his various pockets as well as a satchel that had been carelessly slung over his back.

"Are you Camelia Goodchild?," he queried, looking her up and down several times. "If so, Master Gandalf sends greetings and regrets. I've several things to give you."

The wizard knelt down and continued his singleminded search, emptying out the contents of his bag, as he explained his actions to Cami. "I know there's a letter for you somewhere, but I can't seem to find it. I expect it will turn up later."

Cami glanced down with curiosity, straining to see what was coming out of the wizard's satchel. She could glimpse several strange objects lying on the ground that had not been there before. There seemed to be a small bird's nest made of tangled twigs, a smooth stone from the river basin, several remnents of half-eaten carrots, and a mysterious looking key.

Then the wizard straightened up and continued speaking with Cami, "In any event, welcome to Middle-earth. You and your people are most certainly welcome here. I know that Gandalf generally tends to keep an eye on you, and he promises to visit someday soon. Only now he is regretably detained by many urgent dealings. The members of our order have only recently arrived, so there is much to do. Gandalf has asked me to help you make your way towards the north, along with the Elves."

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Cami finally managed to push herself into the wizard's dialogue and blurt out the question which stood uppermost in her mind.

He turned to face the hobbit and fixed a serious eye on her. "I am Radagast the Brown, a worthy wizard, a master of shapes and changes of hue, one who studies herbs and beasts, and particularly the ways of birds."

At this moment, a black crow swooped down and lit upon his shoulder, and, with head tilted upward, trilled a few notes in his ear. He nodded and whispered something back in a language that Cami could not understand, and then the bird flew away.

He turned his attention once again to the hobbits. "I believe we may soon be neighbors. So we shall be seeing a bit of each other. My home is in Rhosgobel on the western boundary of Greenwood, not far from the Old Ford. It is my understanding that you will initially be heading towards Greenwood, to dwell in the land between the Forest River and the Forest Path. But we will speak of that later, after we gather with the Elves."

"Thank you so much for coming to our aid," Cami politely replied, extending her hand in greeting, "But you wouldn't happen to know when Gandalf will be joining us, would you?"

He shook his head and pushed his hand down into the very depths of his satchel, triumphantly pulling up a crumpled sheet of vellum, "Ah, here it is. The letter at least. Perhaps this will help us." He handed the message over to Cami. She excused herself to run over and sit down on a nearby log, intending to pour over its contents.

But before she could get very far, Radagast again addressed her, "That woman with you, the one next to the Elf with the raven hair, what is her name?"

Cami answered the wizard without even looking up from her letter, "You must mean Bird. She's a friend."

Radagast turned and stared intently at Bird for several minutes with a curious expression on his face, muttering something unintelligible underneath his breath. Then he spoke louder so she could hear, "You certainly have interesting friends. I've something else for you as well. But it will need to await the morning." Then he walked away, promising to return in just a short while to greet the rest of the hobbits.

Skiff after skiff began to make its way onto the shore. The hobbits climbed out of the small boats, each one toting a pack or bag that they'd need to carry along the road. Cami's attention was quickly diverted to the needs of the landing parties and helping to sort things out. The letter remained safely tucked under her belt, awaiting a time when she could sit down at her ease and carefully read it.

[ December 28, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

The Star lay at anchor just south of the great cliff that formed the western edge of the Emyn Muil. Pio had brought her maps up after the dinner that she and Cami had cooked just last evening, and she and Mithadan had gone over the easiest route for Cami and her band of Hobbits to follow. This last day of travel had been spent by Pio in making simple maps of the areas they would pass through, and one larger detailed map showing the entire journey.

Now they were docked, and Pio had rolled her map copies securely, placing them in the waterproof tube in which her own copies were usually stored. She slung it over her shoulder by the carrying strap, and grabbing her travelling pack, always at the ready, she prepared to leave the ship.

Mithadan was on the helm deck, and she ran up the stairs to say that she would see him later, ashore. He stood talking to one of the other captains who had come on board, making arrangements for them to leave as soon as the provisions had been off-loaded for the Hobbits and brought to shore. His loose shirt was unlaced at the throat, and the sleeves were rolled well above his elbows, as he had lent a hand to the moving of supplies to the skiffs.

The westering sun caught the glint of sweat that shone on his forearms and for one suspended moment she remembered when first she had looked upon him with her first feelings of affection. Aboard the Star, under a hot sun, he had bent to the task of sorting through the weapons in their meager armory. The sheen of his sweat outlined the movement of his muscles as he worked, and she had wondered at the feelings that had stirred within her as she watched him.

He caught her staring at him now, and smiled at her. Her breath caught in her throat at the beauty of him, and on impulse, she surprised him with a kiss. The captain who had been speaking with him, chuckled at Mithadan’s discomfiture. Eyes glinting and a barely concealed smile on his face, he nodded to Pio, and took his leave of Mithadan, saying he had no further questions and would leave him to more pressing matters. He dared a wink at Pio as he left, and she rewarded him with a smile.

‘Do not be angry with me, belovéd.’ she said to Mithadan, taking him by the hands and drawing him near. ‘Little time have we had together of late, and I simply could not resist the urge to pluck a kiss from you.’ She ran her fingers lightly about the line of his lips. ‘Or perhaps several . . .’ she murmured.

He laughed and held her at arms’ length. ‘One last thing we must see to, Piosenniel. He motioned with his chin toward the remaining supplies and the Hobbits who were now crossing to the shore in skiffs. ‘One last task to be done.’

‘You cannot know how I dread that small word, Mithadan. Should I never hear it again, it will be too soon!’ She sighed, and rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. ‘Alright then, you tend to the task of transporting the rest of the supplies, and I shall take up the task of seeing the camp is set up.’ Placing her hands on her hips, she arched her brows, and held his gaze with her grey eyes. ‘But once the tents are up, the Hobbits accounted for, and the provisions stacked, I expect to be your only task for the remainder of the evening.’

‘So be it!’ he intoned, grinning impishly. Then kissed her quickly and sent her on her way.

[piosenniel]

The Elf worked with single minded purpose. Andril, Cami, and Rose had been recruited, along with Kali, Daisy, and Phura to organize teams to count noses and divide the Hobbits into groups to get tents and small campsites set up. Bird had been sent to oversee the stacking of the supply cartons in several secure places, and she had delegated the physical part of this task to several teams of burly lads. By late afternoon, all was set up, and the smoke from numerous small cooking fires drifted up among the tree leaves as the Hobbits prepared the evening meal.

Pio had gone to where the Elves were setting up their camp, a little apart from the others. She shook her head at its location, and drew Thranduil’s son to one side, speaking low to him. ‘Tell me, Legolas – why have you and your companions come here?’

‘It was Mithrandir who bade my Father send the Elves of Greenwood to escort the Periannath to the northern forest of our realm. The Istar holds them in some special affection and would see the hand of friendship extended between our two peoples and not the hand of strife. We would honor his wishes in this matter. And so, we have come.’

‘The hand of friendship would be better extended if you were closer to them. Do you not agree?’ she asked. He looked at her coolly. ‘Perhaps. But it has always been our way to keep apart as we could.’ She smiled pleasantly at him, and continued on. ‘That way will not work here, Legolas. And so you must choose a different course if you are to meet the expectations of Mithrandir. The Periannath are a friendly, close people, it would not behoove you to be stand-offish. If you will but keep your mind open, you will find you have as much to learn from them as they from you.’

She arched her brows, saying, ‘Come, then, and extend the graciousness of the Elves to your new guests. Share supper, if you will, with us, and delight us with your songs and music. She smiled to herself, her eyes staring far into time and distance. ‘Long has it been since I heard Elven voices raised in harmony. It would be pleasing to hear them once again.’

He laughed, a soft sound like a silvered stream as it rushes over rocks, clear and refreshing to the ears. ‘We will come, Piosenniel. And we will sing the old songs for our new friends, and for you.’

**

They came late, after the meal, when most were sitting round their burned down fires, pipe in hand. Silent they were, as they passed among the trees and appeared at the edge of the camp. The moon shone down on their fair faces, and the glint of stars was in their eyes. Their voices were raised in an ancient song that echoed in the rustling of the leaves above them, and though the words were unknown to most, yet the beauty of them and the music which held them in its flow was understood in full by the inner spirit of each one who listened.

They stayed late into the night, telling stories of the Green Wood and of their people, until at last the Hobbits had dropped into sweet dreamings, lulled by the murmurings of their voices.

[Child of the 7th Age]

The faint strains of Elven song drifted lazily over the hobbits as the tiny campfires burned lower, until only glowing cinders and smouldering ash were left. Cami walked slowly about the campsite, tugging blankets over sleeping children, and bending down to kiss their curly heads.

In the dim reflection of flickering embers, she could just make out the forms of Phura and Gamba. The two had pulled their sleeping tarp to a secluded niche under the protective arms of a great oak tree. Gamba's face looked strained even in sleep, with his hand clutched tightly about his brother's waist.

Cami went over to the pair and noticed that the older boy was still awake. Phura met her eyes and whispered, "He never left my side, not even when the Elves came." A grimace passed over his features as he stared towards his brother, who had begun to toss about in restless dreams.

Cami knelt and placed her hand on Phura's shoulder, trying to reassure him. "There's nothing I can do to make this easy. But I promise to stay near through the good and the bad. He'll find his way. I'm sure. And I'll do everything I can to help."

"Please believe I'm grateful," Phura begged. "He doesn't belong on Meneltarma. I know that now. But it's hard. Not just for us, but other families as well."

He stared fixedly at Cami, looking for an answer. "This battle against the darkness has taken its toll. So much separation and so many deaths, and yet so much joy and promise. It's difficult to understand, no matter how much lore or learning you have..."

Cami reached over and, with trembling fingers, cradled the boy's hand in her own. "I have no real answer. But I think you have to believe there's some reason behind it, that you're part of a tale that's bigger than yourself, and that your choices make a difference."

"Never forget. You were a steady beacon for your brother. That strength will still be there in his heart, even when your physical presence is far away. Just as he'll be there for you. And someday you will laugh again." She looked upward at the sky with its tiny lights aglitter, like a beckoning portal to another world.

"I hope so," Phura whispered.

Cami fingered the green gemstone that hung silently about her neck, and replied with quiet dignity, "I am certain of it."

Pulling up his blanket, Phura rolled over as Cami rose to leave. She glanced at the far side of the oak and was surprised to spy the lean figure of Legalos standing in the shadows, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. Cami wondered how long he'd been there. He had not approached her the entire day. She was grateful for the Elves' presence at the campsite and their gracious songs and tales, but also realized they would not have shown such courtesy if it had not been for Piosenniel.

The Elf extended his hand to her. "Lady, I am truly sorry. I did not mean to stand here unannounced and hear things meant for other ears. My mind was dwelling on different matters until your words to the boy brought me back. And somehow, then, I could not move."

Cami smiled, "Perhaps you were meant to catch a glimpse of the strange road on which we've travelled. We seek a quiet place to live in Middle-earth, where we can be close to the trees and the soil, and where peril may be kept at bay. I don't know when we will find such a refuge, but we, or our kin, will keep trying till we succeed."

Cami hesitated, then continued. "You are people of deep wisdom, and perhaps find our concerns too small. But for hobbits, things like family and children and food shared around a table bring life and warmth. Once my people had learning and lore, not so great as yours, but enough that it gave them joy."

Her mind ranged back to the hobbit community of Gondolin, with its lyric poetry and sweet hymns to Nienna and Eru. But all that knowledge had faded away, and even the rescue in the Tombs could not make it whole again. "Sadly, much has been stripped from my people by the machinations of the shadow. There is no way to make it return. We must find our own road, one far different than yours, yet still filled with goodness." Cami's voice held quiet sorrow.

The Elf met her eyes and replied, "I will not ask to learn more of your people or their past. Mithrandir has told me but a little and, with that, I will be content."

"Know this. It is not our custom to take other folk along with us. But for the time that you will be on this road, you shall walk beside us and camp near our fires. I would have said this before out of respect for Mithrandir. But now that I realize your folk have carried some hidden burden in the fight against the Enemy, I say it out of respect for them as well."

He bowed his head in acknowledgment. "We will dwell in peace in Greenwood, each going our separate ways. But, perhaps now or in some distant days, a great threat will arise, and we will join together to fight a common foe. Cami Goodchild, I name you Elf-friend, for you are good friend to Piosenniel and your eyes have the look of one who has learned to laugh even in the face of brokeness. On the morrow, we will meet and discuss what path we should take to reach the northern woods."

Cami turned back to the fire, and fought the tears of relief and sorrow that threatened to spill out on her cheeks. She slipped the letter from beneath her belt, where it had lain all day, and held it down to catch the last flicker of light from the dying ash. She could just make out the message, written in Gandalf's strong but graceful script:

Dear Cami,

I had hoped to be present when the hobbits arrived. Alas, that cannot be. I find myself burdened with serious matters requiring immediate attention.

Give my best greetings to Piosenniel, Bird, and Mithadan, for if you have come this far, they must have served you well. I have sent my fellow wizard Radagast to help you. He is a gentle and wise fellow. Cami, do not vex him as you sometimes do, as he is not used to such a sharp tongue.

I have also asked the Woodland Elves to aid you on your journey. Open your heart a bit to Legalos, and you may find him a friend to the hobbits.

Finally, both you and Rose will need ponies to make your rounds teaching and healing your kin. I have secured two steady mounts for this purpose. The grey named Thistle is for Rose, and the chestnut with the silky mane, called Heathertoes, is to be your own. Radagast will deliver them to you.

Please accept this present for the services you have rendered, and that which you must still do. I hope to visit you near the Forest River before the first leaves of autumn fall.

Yours,
GANDALF

Cami smiled and folded the letter, replacing it under her belt. Then she found a small nook not too far from Rose, and soon fell into dreamless slumber.

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

BIRD'S POST:

"Pay attention!"
The strange, brown-clad wizard's eyes snapped back into focus and he turned his head once more towards the little skin-changer. The morning fog crept down from off the Amon Hen, blocking the sight of the stone watchers there and creeping under Birdie's cloak. She rose from her crouch and stamped her dew-soaked boots, as much in irritation as to warm her feet.

"Did you even hear a word I said?" she snapped.

"Of course," said Radagast, "But do you hear them? The dawn chorus? The voices of the birds? They speak the secrets of all of Middle-earth. One would be wise to listen more to the beasts and fowl of the world, for they are Eru's children, as well."

"I hear them! I hear them! Haven't they been waking me every morning at the crack of dawn since we started this journey upriver? Just once I would wish the Children of Eru to pipe down and wake at a more reasonable hour." she grumbled. "So you will keep watch on them? Cami, and Gamba, and all the rest?"

"Yes, yes," Radagast waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Haven't I sworn it to you, over and over for the past hour? I will do all in my power to guide them and watch over them."

"And the Elves? You won't let the Elves forget?"

"The Elves never forget, my dear woman. Whether they choose to act is another matter altogether. But I will do my best to keep the Halflings in their thoughts. Though from what you say, they will have other, weightier troubles to occupy them soon."

Bird stood looking down at the damp Wizard, who had tilted his head and raised his eyes to the surrounding trees again. She shook her head in sadness and vexation. She had done all she could, broken a dozen promises not to reveal the course of Time to those of this Age. ("But he's a Wizard! They know all already." she had reasoned to herself.)

But she knew it was no use. Wizards, Elves, Men and all. They would forget. All but one. Perhaps it was meant to be. The only comfort she could give herself was that her cojoling and nagging would hold in Radagast's mind long enough to give Cami's folk some time. Just a little time to learn the way of this world and how to deal with it. That and her Name. It was all the power she had. It was all she could give.

"Listen..." whispered Radagast. "Do you hear?"

Bird turned and walked back down the slope towards the ship. The voices of the bird-folk followed her.

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Birds sang in the trees about the camp, their raucous piping heralding what would soon be the start of a new day. It was the hour before dawn, and Pio stood looking northward into the waning darkness, willing herself to see the route that Cami and her band must take.

Mithadan was up, poking shavings and twigs into last night’s remaining embers. He leaned over the small promise of fire and blew on it gently. It sprang to life, the flames licking hungrily at the dried wood, and he laid some larger pieces on it. ‘Tea soon.’ he said, smiling at Pio, wrapped tightly in her cloak. She handed him the kettle, filled from the river, and he placed it on the grate balanced on the fire pit’s rocks.

The sun had barely risen in the east, its first pale light softening the eastern rim of the horizon, when the tea was done. She took a cup of the sweet, hot liquid from him gratefully, letting the warmth of it steal into her chilled fingers. A presence coming from the west, intruded upon her thoughts, and she looked up from the steaming tea, smiling.

Legolas! Welcome to our fire. Will you take some tea?’

Mithadan, standing close beside her, smiled, and extended his greeting. Yes. Welcome, indeed, is Thranduil’s son. Please, come sit with us.

Legolas looked in wonder at the Man. ‘Not often do we discover one of the Apanónar, the Secondborn, who has the skill of osanwë. It is a delight to find it not only present but so strong! Well, met, indeed, Mithadan.’

They sat on kegs round the welcome heat from the fire, and talked pleasantly of many things until the sun was well up, and its light had driven away the night completely. Cami had come up, smelling the promise of sweetspice tea. She leaned against Pio, listening half attentively to the conversation, her mind wandering over all the details that must get done today that they might start the trip to Greenwood. So it was no surprise to Pio, watching the thoughts play across her friend’s face, that Cami missed the question asked of her.

Pio nudged her gently, her eyes flicking to Legolas, who looked at the Hobbit with an air of expectancy. ‘Pardon?!’ came the polite request from Cami. ‘I was sorting through things to get done and missed your question.’

Legolas smiled at Cami, his eyes gleaming merrily from a fair face framed by raven hair. ‘I had asked if you wished to go northward from here by the North Stair, or did you wish to travel along the west wall of the Emyn Muil?’

Pio spoke quickly to cover the Hobbit’s surprise at the question. ‘Here are the maps I promised you, Cami.’ She ran to her bedroll, retrieving the leather map case she had stowed them in, and handed it to Cami. ‘Here,’ she said, taking the largest of the maps from the roll and spreading it out on the ground before them, ‘let us show him what route we had discussed.’

Using her finger as a pointer, Pio traced the route around the western Emyn Muil, saying to Legolas that they thought the passage across the high cliffs, accessed by the long, steep North Stair, and bordering the river, would not be hospitable to travel by their group. ‘They can take the somewhat longer route and return to travel along the Anduin when they have passed the walls of the Emyn Muil.’

‘From there,’ continued Cami, placing her finger now on the river’s path, ‘we will proceed northward, to where the Limlight meets the Anduin, and then up to Lórien.’

‘Where we were hoping,’ interjected Pio, ‘that you might be able to assure them easy crossing along its eastern edge.’ Legolas’ brow furrowed for a moment at the thought of explaining the group he traveled with to the Elves of the Golden Wood, but thought that if they traveled quickly by the Naith there would be no hindrance to their passing. ‘We must not disturb the Wood as we pass.’ he cautioned the Hobbit. Pio sighed softly and sent a silent request into the air, hoping that none of the Hobbits would go haring off on some ill thought out adventure at that point.

Cami looked at both Mithadan and Pio, then squared her shoulders, saying her band would do what was necessary to get through with the least difficulty. A half smile played about Pio’s lips, and she wondered if her friend had also sent out some urgent plea that this might be so.

Mithadan looked closely at the map, and found the point where the river narrowed in the north. ‘The journey from Lórien to this ford looks straightforward enough. Long, yes, but through pleasant, open country. And the ford is close to the western border of Greenwood.’ He looked up. ‘I cannot recall,’ he said to Legolas, ‘Is there a bridge here or does one ford the river through the water.’

‘An apt question from you Mithadan,’ came the soft voice from the trees. Radagast stepped forth from the shadows to join them. ‘In this time there is a stone bridge which runs from one bank to the other, in later days it will have gone, and the river must be waded.’ He drew closer to where the map lay out on the ground, and kneeling along the edge of it, looked it over thoroughly.

Drawing the sleeve of his brown robe upward to uncover his hand, he pointed to a small eyot in the river just north of the ford. ‘Between this small islet and the ford, here in the vales of the Anduin, lies my dwelling – Rhosgobel, here at the western edge of Greenwood. We will pass by it as we enter into the forest.’

Pio stirred up the fire, feeding it more wood, while the others talked specifics of the journey. She made more tea, and freshened the cups of those who already had one. Radagast accepted a cup from her, spilling a few drops on the brown expanse of his robe as he brought it to his mouth. She examined him closely, wondering if the mocking epithets she’d heard in later times, would prove true – Radagast the Simple, the Fool, Bird-tamer. She shook her head, remembering then who had called him these names, and put their mocking tone from her mind.

He had been called Aiwendil in Valinor, she recalled – Bird-lover. Radagast the Brown in Middle-earth. Radagast, the tender of beasts, it meant in the tongue of Númenor.

‘Now let him tend well to these Hobbits.’ she thought to herself. ‘Let him see my friends safely through this passage.’

She stared into the flickering flames, wishing there was a way for her to see this done. Mithadan had come, as if called by her unsure thoughts, and crouched down beside her. Taking her hand, he gave it a reassuring squeeze, motioning with a nod of his head to where Cami was in deep discussion with the Elf and the Wizard.

Pio smiled to see her friend step in as an equal, to claim her right to be recognized and heard, to be a decision maker. She gave Mithadan’s hand a light squeeze in return.

‘Yes,’ she murmured, ‘they will do well. She will do well . . .’

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

"There sure are a lot of them."

Phura chuckled. "No more than the crews of all those ships; we just don't usually see them all in one camp."

"Yeah."

"Cami says that she's never seen so many all together all at once, either, " Phura continued. He studied Gamba. "I thought you'd be happy to see them."

"I'm happy to see the trees."

"You used to think elves were the answer to everything. You used to love them. All your favorite songs were about Gondolin. What happened? " Phura asked.

Gamba rubbed his wrists, pointedly.

"Come on, " Phura said. "Cami has accepted her apology and forgiven her for that. Don't you think you should too?"

"Some apology, " Gamba said. "She basically implied that we would always need rescuing, and she was worried that she wouldn't be there to do it herself."

"Is that really what she said?" Phura asked.

Gamba scowled. Phura got up, and went and found Cami, and spoke softly with her. Cami rose, excusing herself from her conversation and saying that she hoped to return shortly, and she came back with Phura to where Gamba was sitting. Phura drifted away, and found Azraph, who had been watching the two brothers from a distance. THey sat together, quietly, looking around at the elves and the trees, trying to take it all in.

They watched as Cami and Gamba got up, and walked over to Piosenniel, and Phura took a deep breath and held Azraph's hand tighter. "Let's hope for the best."

Piosenniel looked up at Gamba and Cami, and studied the two of them for several seconds. Cami's expression was carefully neutral, but Pio read a worried hopefulness underneath the mask. Gamba stood uncomfortably, fists jammed deep into his pockets, face rather pink around the edges.

"Hello, " she said.

Gamba withdrew further, and Cami turned and met his gaze. Tightlipped, he glared back at her.

"Well?" Pio said, after several more seconds had crawled by.

His eyes blazed, and he burst out, "You worked so hard to set us free from the tombs, and then you tied us up again. And you never apologized for that."

"I didn't?" she replied. Cami nodded internally, glancing from her friend to her son.

"No, " he blazed.

"Gamba, " she replied, "as far as I'm concerned, I did."

"No, " he said. "You never said you were sorry. You just said other things."

The boy was like a stone wall, Pio thought. Cami will have her hands full. She sighed. "What I said, Gamba, was that oft times my actions are ill thought out, and harsh and that I am not the most politic of creatures. But I love my friend."

Gamba waited.

"Do you know why I came to the Tombs?" Pio asked.

"Not any more, " Gamba snapped.

She sighed. "There were many reasons. But the one that matters most to me at the moment is that my friends that undertook this quest needed my help; not the least of which was Cami. And I would not fail to do my best for them and for her. If that is not enough for you, then I cannot help you any more than that."

Gamba scowled, and was clearly dissatisfied. Cami studied him, and then turned and faced him, and very softly spoke in slow, measured tones. Pio's elven hearing picked up what she said nevertheless.

"Gamba, " Cami began. "Pio risked her life again and again in the tombs, for me, for Rose, for Kali, and for all of you. And unlike some elves, Pio knows what death means, and what she risked each time."

Gamba watched her guardedly, but she waited, letting that last statement sink in. Slowly he remebered his reaction when he had first learned that Piosenniel was alive, from Levanto. That brought a rush of conflicting emotions, and resentment for Levanto's sake, and Cami watched that wash across his face, guessing what he was thinking, waiting for him to speak. Finally he fidgeted, pressing his fists into his pockets til his arms were straight. He'll rip the breeches, Cami thought... let it go for now.

Finally Cami spoke again. "Do you know what else Pio risked for me, and for Rose, and for Kali, and for all of you?"

Gamba glared at her, wanting to stay mad, and bracing himself against what she would say.

Cami spoke very softly. "If Pio had died, the twins she is carrying would have died with her."

Gamba's eyes widened, against his will, and he turned to Piosenniel, and looked at her.

"The twins?"

Pio shot Cami a blank glance, which Cami knew barely fell short of an immediate death threat. Cami smiled internally, watching her son soften, soften, melting before her eyes. "Twins, " he repeated softly.

By the One, Cami, you've annoyed me now, Pio thought.

"Twins," Gamba whispered, his eyebrows rising, his eyes fixed on the ground.

Another glance flew from Pio to Cami, and Cami smiled for real this time. "Yes, Gamba. The twins."

"Oh, " he said. And looking up at Pio, he said, "So that's why you've been so cranky?"

"Gamba!" Cami laughed.

"By the One, " Pio said, shooting Cami the third Elvish Glance Of Impending Death.

"Huh. Twins, " Gamba said, and nodding, turned and shrugged at Pio. "Well, I hope everything goes well. Loremaster says that carrying a child in the heat of summer makes women miserable; I wonder if carrying two is that much worse."

"Who said I'd be carrying in the summer?" Pio snapped.

"Oh, Elves carry for a year, don't they? I don't see how you can avoid it, " Gamba said cheerfully, and putting his fists into his pockets again, began to whistle The Snowhobbits Of Ladros. "Well, tell Mithadan I said good luck. Every father I know says that when she's carrying a child, their wife is awfully hard to deal with."

He turned to Cami, and said with another shrug, "I guess we're lucky she didn't just kill all three of us outright." And he wandered off, whistling.

Pio shook her head, and Cami, laughing, returned to her interrupted conversation. Gamba returned to Phura and Azraph.

"Well?" Phura said, waiting.

Gamba replied very solemnly. "Lady elves get just as cranky as lady hobbits do when they are with child, " he said.

Phura and Azraph exchanged glances, shrugged at each other, and then began to laugh. Before long, Gamba joined them.

[ January 09, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Both Legalos and Radagast agreed to Cami's request to meet with the Elders to review the route chosen for the northward trek. Once again, Piosenniel's large map was taken from the case, laid out on the ground, and carefully studied. Legalos outlined the pathway with his finger, starting at the base of the Falls, skirting west about Emyn Muil, and cutting north to the eastern boundary of the Hidden Lands where the Lady of Lorien dwelled. At this point he halted, reminding the Elders of the need to respect the sanctity of that golden realm and the Elf Queen of ancient lore who ruled over those woods.

When Andril heard this reference to ancient lore, her eyes gleemed curiously bright. She glanced directly at Cami who nodded for her to continue.

"Pardon, Legolas," Andril interrupted, "But does this Lady of Lorien go by any other name?"

"Some call her the White Lady," Legalos replied. "Others, the Mistress of Magic; but the name she is best known by is that of Galadriel."

A smile of recognition splashed across Andril's face. She responded with quiet assurance. "Legalos, you need not worry about the hobbits' passage through these lands. This Lady of whom you speak is known to us of old. Our own lore tells of her grace; her ability to run through the hills like a hart, swift and straight; and her friendship with the hobbits who first came to her notice through her brother Finrod."

With a bittersweet pang, Cami recalled the words of Andreth's journal, which had been discovered in the walls of the encampment at Ladros, and the ancient stories that she'd heard from Maura. Both spoke of the coming of the little folk into Beleriand, and their friendship with the House of Beor and with Finrod and his kin, as well as how the three peoples fought together in the battle against the darkness.

Andril continued addressing Legalos, but was careful to catch the eye of Gamba who sat by his brother's knee. "The hobbits will indeed respect the realm of this Lady, for she has meant much to us. I do not know, but it may even be that she will remember us with affection."

Legalos was surprised to hear this and glanced towards Cami who nodded her head to confirm what Andril was saying. Legalos went on to trace the remainder of the route. Then, at Radagast's suggestion, the Elves and hobbits agreed to begin their journey northward early the next morning.

As the Elders dispersed to their clans, Cami pulled Andril aside to speak with her. "Thank you for that," she confided to the hobbrim. "I am never sure how much to say. But I think your words will make it easier for us, both with the Elves on the trail, and in encouraging the younger hobbits to behave."

"I am placing Gamba in charge of the littlest ones on the trail. It should give him something worthwhile to do to take his mind off of mischief, as well as keeping him from falling into despair. I'm actually more worried about Gamba missing his brother than running off on any adventure, but this should help with both."

Andril looked over at Cami. "And I promise to keep an eye on Phura, especially in the days and months to come. It won't be easy for either of them. But, Cami, there's something else. Something else that's bothering you."

"You know me too well. When I first met Pio and Mithadan back in Minas Anor, my only wish was to uncover a little piece of hobbit history. At least I know that exists, but so much of it has been swept away. Part of me understands this must be. The clans will have plenty to do, simply learning to survive, without worrying about poems and lore. And it's the only way the hobbits can possibly stay hidden."

"Yet another part of me grieves. Finrod, and Galadriel and Idril, and especially Piosenniel....who among our people will recall what the Elves did, their bright gifts and their sacrifices? Which hobbit will remember Men like Beor or Mithadan, or a small shapechanger who offered us friendship? And none will speak the name of Maura, or sing the songs of Lindo. All that will be gone."

"Cami, stop worrying about the past. The hobbrim won't forget. But the rest, those things that bind our families and help them make their own small goodness in a world filled with shadow, that task we leave to you."

Andril looked at her and smiled, "Who knows? Perhaps at the end of time, our two kin will come together somehow. Then we will offer you the lore we've carefully tended, and you will show us that hobbit hearts still hold those ideas and ways that matter."

"You make it sound so simple," Cami whispered, her voice heavy with longing.

"Not simple, but there's enough to keep us both busy for a lifetime. What more could a person want?"

"Only one thing," replied Cami, smiling sadly, "that we should not have to leave so many good friends behind."

"For that I have no answer." The two women softly embraced.

[ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Mithadan]

All about him, the Hobbits were breaking camp and gathering their things into packs and sacks. The Elves stood nearby watching patiently. As was their wont, they had travelled lightly, unencumbered by things so that they could move quickly and quietly through lands outside their own country.

Mithadan looked over to where Cami stood with Rose and Piosenniel yet again reviewing a map. He smiled at the care and caution which the Elf was taking with giving direction to her friends -- it was so very unlike the impetuousness which had marked her behavior. Then he grew grave, understanding that this was the only way Piosenniel could place the Hobbits under some semblence of her protection as they journeyed on their own.

He rose and walked over to the small group, and waited patiently until the conversation ended and the map was stowed in its container. Then he addressed the Hobbits. "Rose, Cami," he said. "I have some things which I would like to give to you." He reached into his pouch and withdrew a brass box which he held before Cami. "This was given to me by my first shipmaster after I apprenticed myself as a mariner rather than living the lazy life of the son of a noble." Cami opened the hinged box and withdrew a cloth which contained a small piece of wood in which was set a dark grey sliver of stone. She looked at it curiously for the stone was not fair and did not seem valuable.

He smiled and took the box from her hands. The bottom half of the box he filled with water. Then he took the piece of wood and carefully set it floating on the water with the stone facing up. "See," he said. "See how the stone turns on its little raft? If you place the box on a flat surface and float the stone upon its water, it will turn and the end of the stone which is painted red will ever face the north. If ever as you wander you become uncertain of your direction, you may use this to find your way."

Cami looked at the gift in wonder. "Is it magic?" she asked. "Nay," answered the Man. "If it is magic, it is only such magic as the Valar have imparted to the stuff of Arda itself. Yet, in its own way it is valuable, for Northstone is not easily found or identified." He emptied the box and dried it carefully before returning the stone to its place. He handed the box to Cami and then turned to Rose.

He reached back into his pouch and withdrew a fine gold chain. On it was hung a shell. "While on Tol Meneltarma, I found this shell," he said. "It is the match to the one which hangs upon my throat. In this way, you may look upon it and remember both me as well as Meneltarma and your cousins who dwell there." He handed the chain to Rose, who examined the shell, then placed the chain upon her neck.

They stood wordless for a moment, then looked up at Mithadan, who knelt on one knee and took each of them in his arms. He kissed their brows and held them close for a moment. "I will miss you both," he whispered. Then he stood. "May the Valar guide your feet and protect you from harm..."

[ December 30, 2002: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami blinked back tears as Mithadan rose with quiet dignity to walk slowly towards the waiting skiff that would carry him back to the Star. She wondered if he would come ashore once more in the evening to sit near the campfire with them, but something inside her whispered no. He had made his peace, and gently cut the lines. There was no more to be said.

Cami had lived in Minas Anor so many years, yet never had she known or appreciated any of the big folk in the same way that she had grown to know this Man. What a pity there couldn't be more like him, or perhaps she just hadn't tried hard enough to find out where the others were. She reminded herself to keep looking for other Mithadans who might cross her path, and not to give up believing that there could be peace between their peoples, so closely related yet so often far distant.

Later that evening, at the hour of dusk, she walked by herself to the top of a hill that overlooked the campsite. Down below, like a hundred sparkling jewels, the campfires of Elves and hobbits gleamed in their brightness, one nestled right next to the other. Songs floated softly over the encampment, first an Elvish air or two, then the hobbits playing simple tunes on wooden flutes.

Cami felt her heart swell as she took in this rare manifestation of trust and friendship. Look sharp, she told herself. Not since Beleriand has such a thing happened. Nor will we see it again, unless perhaps at the end of time, and who can say for certain. For tomorrow we head north to begin our years of wandering, and our camps will not be so leisurely or so relaxed as this one we enjoy tonight.

Something inside her heart reassured Cami that the hobbits would indeed find a safe place to settle one day, but that she would never live so long to see that happen. She would have to be content with the waiting and the wandering, believing that it would eventally lead them to where they were intended to be.

Making her way back towards camp, she came to the fire where Bird and Pio were gathered and sat with them for the remainder of the evening, saying little, but content to be together for the last few moments of their journey. As the blaze burned lower, leaving only golden cinders, hobbits and even Elves laid down to sleep upon the ground. For their departure the next morning was to be very early.

One by one, the crew of the Star came by to where she and Rose were seated in order to whisper their good lucks and goodbyes. Cami watched Kali and Daisy walk off, with Andril just behind them. She could see Phura and Gamba leaning close together, sharing the feverish whisperings of brothers who would never again speak to one another, at least within the circles of Arda. The younger hobbit boys clung to each other and to Kesha, until the hobbrim lad pulled away, coming over to kiss Cami on the forehead and say thank you for all she had done.

***(Helen's Post)

When Kesha returned to the boys, he leaned against Gamba. The boys were piled all around them, with Maura in Phura's lap. Azraph sat with Phura, trying to hear-- and remember-- everything that passed between Phura and Gamba.

"So... sing for me, " Phura said, nudging Gamba. "One last time."

Gamba nodded. "I can't keep ignoring it, can I?"

"No."

"Phura, I can't bear to see you go."

Phura sighed. "You can. You will." He paused. "Remember what you said to me when I was waiting for the changing? Standing by the water, listening to the names being read off?"

"Yeah."

"You told me to go and find my dream. And you reminded me about the storms," Phura smiled, remembering. "Really big storms. And you said you'd remember me when it rains."

"I will," Gamba replied.

"Well, " Phura said, "I'll remember you whenever I hear the wind blowing in the trees. And every so often, I'll find that pine tree you first showed me, and I'll climb it, and think of you."

Gamba looked at the ground.

"Tell me your dreams again," Phura prompted.

Gamba shifted uneasily. "The Langwell," he said. "But Mom doesn't like that idea."

"She doesn't. Well, it's hard to let go sometimes; we know that, dont we? What else?"

"Living among the trees, out in the wind and under the blue sky, and getting as far away from ... those tombs as I can, " he said, with a backward glance over his shoulder towards Minas Tirith. He clearly thought of the entire city as a stony tomb. Phura smiled.

"So... trees, traveling a long way north, the Langwell. What else?"

"I want my boys with me." He mussed Asta's hair, and smiled at Ban and Roka, and then gave Kesha a tight, sad hug.

"The boys. What will you all do there?"

"They'll settle down, raise families."

"What about you?"

Gamba shifted. "I'll raise the boys."

"And?"

"I don't know."

Asraph and Phura exchanged glances. They both thought that Gamba would want children of his own, but the memory of Esta forbade them to discuss that. "You'll be far enough north that you'll see snow," Phura smiled.

Gamba smiled too. "My name is in the list, after all."

"Yes, it is. Gamba the Snowhobbit."

Gamba had not forgotten Phura's request for a song, and in the distance, he could see that people were preparing to return to the Star. He sighed, his chest tightening, and cast back in his mind, reviewing his studies. "Tell Loremaster that I miss him. And..."

Phura waited.

"Tell him he was right about Mistress Nitir. Tell him I call her Mom now."

"All right."

Gamba looked around, and saw Tuka, and Mika and Kima, and Corba, and thought that he would not be all alone, or not as all alone as he felt at the moment. And then he took a deep breath, and began.


Where the depths the sun is drinking
Wild the waves with wind are dancing
Deeply there the tide is pulling
Let it pull your heart to me.

Where the sun caresses flowers
Where the clouds pour silver showers
There the wind shows all her power
Let her blow your heart to me.

Far above a star is shining
And the lovely moon is roaming
There the path of stars is glowing
Tread that path and come to me.

Through the tide, the storm, the sky,
Oh, fly, my love, and come to me.


When he was finished, Phura began:

Stars above are softly shining,
Wind and waves my ship are rocking,
I my love for you am singing,
Sleep, my lovely, sleep.

Though our days we live in thralldom,
Deep inside your soul lives freedom.
Dream of shining elvish kingdoms!
Sleep, my lovely, sleep.

Watch and wait, always remember,
Never to despair surrender,
Hope will find you, hope remembers,
Sleep, my lovely, sleep.

Far away wild gulls are wailing,
Far away fond hearts are waiting,
Far away proud ships are sailing,
Sleep, my lovely, sleep.


Azraph held both their hands, and then she began, and Phura and Gamba both joined in:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


They shared embraces all around, and then Azraph and Kesha drew to Phura's side. Phura embraced Gamba one more time, and then said, "Promise me you won't rest until you find your dreams. Promise me."

"I promise," Gamba replied.

"I'm counting on that. I mean it," Phura said. "I'll hold you to that promise. I really will."

"I promise, " Gamba repeated.

"All right then, you rascal, " Phura said. "I love you."

"I love you too. Enjoy the Abyss, " Gamba said. "And the storms. I'll think of you when it rains. Every time."

"Good bye, " Phura said, and they turned and walked away, and joined those that were leaving for The Star.

*****(end Helen's Post)


Finally, as the golden cinders began to fade to grey ash, the only ones remaining from the Star were Bird and Pio. The Elf bent down and put her arm about Cami's shoulder, "Do you wish us to return to shore in the morning to bid you luck?"

Cami turned aside, making a feeble effort to hide the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, then shook her head no. "We part tonight. Tomorrow is for new beginnings."

They each embraced her and promised never to forget. Then amid her tears Cami laughed, threatening to follow Pio into the Fourth Age if she did not take care of herself properly and make sure the twins had a healthy mother. And to Bird, she said simply, "Don't neglect to look for the sign that I will send through to you."

She watched in silence as the women went aboard the skiff, and their small boat inched its way towards the mother ship. Then she lay on the ground by herself, and tried with little luck to stem the tears that cascaded downward to mingle with the soft brown earth. She finally rolled over onto her back and looked up at the stars in the heavens. There were a great many of them, almost like a blanket aglow. To Cami they seemed to be a wondrous reminder and a promise of hope in a world that still longed for the light of the Silmarils.

She whispered aloud to the greatest star she could see in the sky, Maura, I kept my promise to you. I have seen this thing through to the end. But, oh, it has been hard. Then she pulled her legs up to her chest and quickly fell asleep.

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

At the earliest hint of dawn, the hobbits and Elves awoke to the sound of birds trilling at each other high in the trees, a song that cut through the still morning air and beckoned them to come forward quickly on their appointed trail. Each traveller stopped to eat a little packet of journey bread that had been specially set aside for that purpose.

The small band of Elves who led the assembly never looked behind, walking with amazing grace and deftness along the slanting path that gradually rose up to meet the horizon. The hobbits gathered up their packets and satchels more slowly, turning their backs on the river with some reluctance, and trudging north on the path that would skirt along the western base of the cliffs. Cami had appointed scouts at various points on the march, sturdy lads to keep an eye on things, relay messages, and make sure no hobbit was left behind. The hobbits were a great procession, and it took some time for all of them to leave the river valley.

Her eyes wide and clear, Cami walked beside Rose and just to the rear of the Elves, with Gamba following sadly a bit to her left. Cami had set the boys on the backs of the ponies, Asta with Ban, and Roka with Maura, along with several of the heavier bundles that she'd slung across the animals' withers. Now and again, Gamba would reach over to touch one of the boys' legs, to reassure himself that they were really still there.

As they rounded the bend that would take them northward and away from the Anduin, Cami took Gamba's hand in her own and glanced back over her shoulder. The dim outline of the Star could still be glimpsed through the mist and haze. But the faces and figures of the people had faded and could no longer be clearly seen.

She turned back and glanced at the boy now walking quietly by her side. The towsled hair was still there, but the mischievous expression had disappeared, and in its place dawned a seriousness and intensity that belied his very young age. Still, although his eyes looked taut and concerned, she saw no shadows of despair. And that thought cheered her.

She fixed her own gaze firmly on the trail ahead. "Look there," she whispered to the four boys astride the ponies, then pointed towards a small red fox hidden behind a tree who now bolted away flicking its bushy tail in distress at the silent approach of the Elves. The childrens' delighted laughter pealed out, cutting through the mist, as the sun peeped out over the hillside. And overhead, although Cami could not see it, a single black bird winged, once, twice, and then a final circle, before making its path back towards the waiting ship.

[ January 08, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ January 09, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

‘Well, they’re on their way, Pio.’ The small jackdaw dropped to the helm in a flurry of feathers, feet scrabbling for some hold on the smooth wood. Pio laughed at the unceremonious landing and offered her wrist for a better perch. ‘and, no,’ continued the small bird, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, which indeed it had not since these two had never stood on ceremony, ‘they are not lost yet. Or besieged by bandits, wolves, or any other of the catalog of evils I know are running through your mind as I tell you this.’

Bird glided down to the deck, changing to human form. ‘Why are you piloting the Star, by the way. Shouldn’t you be relaxing, feet propped up, avoiding the swollen ankles I hear come with your condition?’ She picked up the glass of wine Pio had left on the barrel top near her, taking a long swig.

‘Ack! You’ve watered this! Ruined perfectly good wine.’ She swallowed the mouthful with a grimace and poured herself a glass of her own from the bottle. ‘Mmmm. That’s much better!’ she said, topping off the glass with another pour from the dusty bottle. ‘I see Mithadan managed to replenish the wine supply for the trip home.’

She pulled a chair to the railing, and sat gazing over the river’s water to the north, feet propped comfortably on the lowest rail. ‘Where is the hubby, anyway? Off ordering about what remains of the crew, I suppose.’ She drummed her fingers on the side of her glass. ‘What’s he going to do when everyone’s gone but us and Levanto? None of us take orders very well, though I suppose the two males will side with each other.’

Bird chuckled, her eyes glinting with the possibility of mischief. ‘Hmmm, this may prove to be an interesting trip back to Gondor.”

[ January 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

‘Take a breath, Bird! And let me get in an answer or two to your litany of questions and observations.’ Pio picked up her glass, swirling the light red liquid around in it, watching the sunlight glint off the surface.

‘I am really not all that worried about Cami and her Hobbit band. I have every confidence in her ability to lead them well and safely.’ she intoned. Bird, unconvinced, arched an eyebrow at the Elf. Pio laughed, ‘Alright, you know me too well. I had a long discussion with Legolas. Just a few suggestions to him. No threats, not exactly, that is. He’s a nice kid. He and his band will get them safely to the North.’ ‘Despite the bumbling, though well meant intentions of Radagast.’ she added to herself.

‘As to the wine, the piloting, and the swollen ankles – I want to keep myself busy so I do not find time to worry so much. So, I will focus on the ship’s course, keeping a clear head with the watered wine. And your concern about the ankles is duly noted, though I cannot recall any Elven woman with them.’
A small adjustment to the wheel to keep the ship in deeper waters, then she continued on. ‘As to Mithadan, I have no idea what he is doing. But Bird, please, let’s just have a smooth trip home. No aggravations.’

Bird snorted, muttering ‘killjoy’ under her breath, but nodded her head in agreement. She had heard that women in Pio’s condition often have violent mood swings. No need to have the Elf skewer her with a knife over some practical joke. ‘Where was Angara when she needed her!’ she thought. ‘That pesky Wyrm would have proved a useful ally with whom to needle the Captain unmercifully.’

The remainder of the trip downriver was uneventful for the Star, proving much faster now that they sailed with the current. Pio had gone over her plans with Kali, several times, concerning the use of the time crystal to get everyone to their required destinations.

Mithadan spent the river voyage conducting an assay of the Lonely Star's condition. The vessel had been at sea far too long and had weathered storms as well as having been over-burdened by the presence of their Hobbit guests. Once back in Gondor in the Fourth Age, the Star would not go back to sea for some time.

In time, he presented Piosenniel and Bird with a list of repairs and overhauls that the ship would require. Bird had nearly choked upon reading the report, squacking angrily about how she had not expected such expenses when she had agreed to become a partner in this venture.

But then, they reached Minas Anor with their little flotilla and Mithadan spent a day at the docks dealing with various merchants and shipowners. He returned with a sly smile and a bag which he had emptied on the table of the galley. Bird's eyes grew wide at the sight of such a pile of gold coins; the proceeds from the sale of the three ships Mithadan had obtained in exchange for the Numenorean daggers. Then they were on their way again, and Mithadan was content to relax and play first mate to Piosenniel's captain.

Once they reached the Bay, the Lonely Star and the Elven ships would make for the open ocean. Pio would board one of the Swan ships with all the crew from the Star who were going back to Meneltarma. Only Bird, Mithadan, and Levanto would remain with the Star. She would link the Swan ships and take them back to the time they had left the islet.

All the Elven ships would wait then, as she transferred back with Kali and Daisy in a skiff to the Star’s present time in the Third Age. The two Hobbrim and the remaining crew of the Star would transfer on the ship to the Fourth Age. Then Kali and Daisy would make the final leap in their skiff to when the Swan ships awaited them. The Elves would drop all the Hobbrim at Meneltarma, and then make for Tol Eressëa. The time crystal would pass into safekeeping with Kali and his future family.

The transfers were done without a hitch, though not without a few final tears and hugs as the crew of the Lonely Star said a final farewell to their companions. They waved to Kali and Daisy, as for a final time, the air shimmered, and the skiff winked out of existence.

Time’s door had shut. Only the glassy, rolling waves of the sea now rolled on before the Lonely Star . . .

[ January 08, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[ January 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

THE END (for now)

[mark12_30]

Gamba's Epilogue

Gamba and his four boys lived with Cami and Rose in Greenwood peacefully for twenty years. Three years after he came of age, Gamba began exploring up north, especially the Langwell river, saying that he wanted to go settle there.

Ten years after Gamba came of age, Asta and Roka came of age. At that time Gamba left, taking Asta and Roka with him, and went up the Anduin til he found a fair-sized wood along the Langwell River. There he built three flets, fished, and gathered mushrooms, and learned to hunt in the north, where deer ran differently and the rabbits had a whole other way of life, and even the fishing was different. Roka became a fair gardener, and learned which roots and leaves grew well in the far north and which did not. Both Asta and Roka returned half a year later, to visit Cami and Rose and their sweethearts, and before three years had passed, they each brought a bride to the Langwell.

Gamba stayed at the Langwell for seven years, and mastered the local fishing and hunting, and homesteading, and learned to avoid dragons and trolls. But when the seven years had passed, leaving Roka and Asta to take care of their tree-homes and their families, he jouneyed home hoping to convince Ban and Maura to join them.

On the way, Gamba walked southward along the riverbank, and some thirty leagues into his journey he came to the first tributary below the Langwell, called the Rhimdoth, or the Rushdown. He crossed it on a clear summer night, and he saw a darkhaired young lass come out of the river after swimming fully dressed; without seeing him, she climbed up onto the bank, and lay gazing at the stars.

He wept when he saw her, and softly cried out to her, calling her Esta; she answered gently, and said that was not her name. He told her the story of his lost love whose grave lay buried beneath the sea, and trembling, asked if she was Esta's ghost; she told him plainly that she was not. He sang for her that night, old lullabyes and laments and histories, and she listened with delight, for his voice was husky and strong. He sang on until her parents missed her, and following the singing, found the two of them on the Rhimdoth riverbank.

Her name was Opal; the name suited her well, because her skin was always pale and translucent and shone stark white in the starlight. But Gamba called her Esta for the rest of his life, and said of Opal that she was just as wild at heart as Esta had been. Her new name became dear to her, and her heart turned quickly towards him. She was eighteen years old.

Gamba stayed for several days, and sang for her often. Then Gamba reluctantly continued his journey southward towards Cami's home, still desiring that Maura and Ban should join him at Langwell. Neither Cami nor Rose relished the idea, and they fought him long and hard; but Ban and Maura were both of age, and Gamba persuaded Maura to go. In the end, Ban stayed with Rose and Cami, and Maura married his sweetheart and went north with Gamba.

Parting with Maura was hard on Cami, and she made him promise to visit, a promise which he kept faithfully, even visiting her yearly when she retired to Rivendell. When they were old enough, his two elder sons accompanied him on his yearly trips to Rivendell; there she taught them herblore and healing, and found them her most apt students.

From then on, Gamba travelled south to the Rhimdoth to see Opal every season. Opal's father was skeptical of Gamba's Langwell settlement at first. But wherever Gamba went, he told his tales of the abundant fishing and hunting, and seeing that neither he nor his sons nor their wives or children were by any means famished, other hobbits went north to join his community. Learning this, Opal's father softened, and Gamba was more welcome after that.

Gamba's heart did not rest from the time he met Opal until she came of age, fifteen years later, when she married him and joined him at Langwell, in 1050. By the time Gamba wedded Opal, Langwell had become a large community, and to her surprise, Opal found herself the young matron of it; Gamba shared the decisions with her, asking her opinion; and when she would have rather not have given it, he would remind her that Nitir would want him to ask her. When he was away, she acted as his steward.

He made friends with the elves that came his way, rarely travelling into the Greenwood to search for them, at first. Only after he had made several good friends did he travel one summer with a guide all the way back to Thranduil's groves, and joined them for a woodland feast during the berry season; they were glad to see him again, but they did not invite him to their underground palace, nor show him the pathways through the woods that led to it. Of that he was glad, having no desire to see Thranduil's cave.

Together Gamba and Opal had three sons and three daughters, Phura, Mitha, Leva, Azraph, Nitir, and Waterbird. The sons when married all reverted to normal hobbit custom and lived in burrows in the riverbank. But to the end of his days, Gamba could never abide being underground for very long; and when he was too old to climb up into a flet, his Opal built him a sturdy hut on the ground, in the forest, between three young, close trees. Of course it had no glass, but two of the walls had wide doors, and the third wall had a shutter over a large opening; so even in his dotage, Gamba could ask for the shutter and doors to be thrown open wide, and see the wind in the branches and feel it in his hair.

One windy summer night, with torn clouds racing across the sky, he earnestly begged Opal to take him to the riverbank. She wept, knowing all too well the story of her namesake and knowing what was in his heart; but she called for his grandsons, and they carried him out. He lay with his head in her lap, and watched the stars winking in and out behind the clouds; and he pointed down the river, and told her again the story she knew so well, of the hobbits swimming out to the white ships that came and took them from the caves. Finally he told her that together they would see the stars again. By the time the moon rose, he had passed beyond the circles of the world. He was buried by his sons and grandsons in the forest below the flet that he and Opal had raised their family in; and she planted a beech tree beside his grave.

Phura's first son was an exceptionally tall hobbit-lad named Doldo. Doldo travelled south in his tweens to trade for southern orchard produce, and met a girl from the far south near Lorien. Her name was Mallorn, and he courted her for five years and wedded her when he came of age, and brought her north to the Langwell. Like his grandfather, he loved the woods best, and was a hunter. He built his burrow high up on the hillside under the eaves of the forest; from his front door-step, a great wide sweep of the Langwell valley could be seen. Doldo and Mallie had two fine sons, tall like their father, and named Noldo and Sindo; it's said that Mallie chose their names in tribute to her father's elvish friends, south away in Lorien, where the mallorns grow.

After Noldo and Sindo migrated over the Misty Mountains fleeing from the Shadow, and after their parents' mysterious death, Noldo and Sindo wandered far west; but they returned, and settled on the western bank of the Hoarwell, on a southfacing slope just below a wood, building many tunnels as their clan expanded. That wood was said to be teeming with game and mushrooms; if the clan expansion was any indication, that clan never lacked for provender. They were a hunting clan in the midst of a fishing community, and they went out to the woods most often, and it's said that they had dealings with elves, though few discuss what kind, and those that do, speak what they shouldn't as often as not. That south-facing slope had the odd name of Little Valinor, and many folk wonder why; to their dying day, Noldo's sons called it that. Noldo was as tall as his father; most of Noldo's children were tall and slender and golden-haired, and some even had eyes that were a deep and clear October-blue, and it's said by some that that's where the Fallohide fair blood comes from. But it's said that they took after their mother, Lorien, Noldo's wife, whom few ever saw, fewer knew, and fewer still, understood. Some rumored that she was a fairy wife; but if you ask Noldo's descendants, they will tell no tales concerning her. But folk observe that whenever her name is mentioned, her descendants fall silent, and more often than not, they look to the west.