THE LONELY STAR (Contd. from BD birthday party)

[mark12_30]

3319, Second Age, Day # 14

Phura says that I shouldn't call Maura Tuk's lullabye sappy. I thought that was Nitir's lullabye. Why couldn't Loremaster Lindo have just named these songs something simple? Phura says he doesn't know whether it was Nitir's lullabye for Maura or Maura's lullabye for Nitir. Well, isn't it simpler than that? Which one was the baby and which one was the adult? Phura told me I didn't know everything. But when I asked Loremaster which one was the baby, he said someday I would understand and then he changed the subject. Phura still won't tell me. If neither one was a baby, why were there lullabyes from one to the other?

Here's today's new song. It's long enough. I guess it's not too bad. At least there's some fighting in it, and it talks about Gondolin. I could do without the sappy stuff though.

Lindo's Lament for Niphredil

On Gondolin's last day we stood
The outer wall to hold
Our archers shed and spilled their blood
In sacrifices bold.

And to our grief, a snowdrop fell,
A flower both pure and white,
My Niphredil I loved so well,
My Hope so calm and bright.

With messages from dearest kin
To Kemba brave she came,
And having spoke, her way she took
To leave the wall again.

Mid archers standing on the wall
Her childhood friend was down;
His bow nearby him useless lies,
and quiver near she found.

His bow she took, his quiver too,
And to the wall she came,
And arrows sped into war's dread
In childhood friendship's name.

Dark arrows did on that wall seek
Her heart so bright and sweet,
And in that breast where hope shone best
Steel did her pulse defeat.

On Gondolin's last day there fell
The lovely Niphredil;
Home that fair corpse brave Kemba bore,
To grief and sorrow's wail.

Yet paler now her snow-fair skin
For death's embrace is deep,
Her laughter's trill forever still
While we who loved her weep.

Beneath the earth she now lies still,
Safe in her father's home,
My Niphredil I loved so well,
The Hope I called my own.

On Gondolin's last day there fell
the Hope I never held;
Heart's love shining, hope defining,
Lovely Niphredil.


3319, Second Age, Day # 15


Phura doesn't think that Lindo's Lament for Niphredil is sappy at all, he likes the whole thing. He never ceases to amaze me. But I'm starting to wonder about some of these Lullabyes. Are they really love songs? What about the other song that was titled Maura's Lullabye but sounded like a love song? And if you agree with me that that one sounded like a love song, wait til you read this one.

Lindo's Lullabye for Niphredil

Beneath the stars, beneath the earth,
Your lovely form lies sleeping;
Your face so sweet, your limbs so fair,
Your heart, where mine is beating.
Your brow I kiss, your hands I hold
While deep in dreams you slumber;
And as you rest so still and cold
My tears fall without number.

No star so fair, no breeze so sweet,
No sunbeam shines as warmly
As your soft gaze that once on me
Shone gently, purely, fondly.
Your eyes are closed, your breath at peace,
Your lovely face unmoving,
Still here for you my heart yet weeps,
Your deep love for me proving.

Now, this has to be the same Niphredil that he sang the lament about. If she could wield a bow and arrow, then she was definitely not a baby. So who in their right mind would call that a lullabye? It's definitely a love song. I don't think Loremaster Lindo knew the difference. I don't think he was nearly as wise as they say.

3319, Second Age, Day # 16

Boy did I get in trouble for yesterday's entry. My hands hurt.


3319, Second Age, Day # 17

Still in trouble. Loremaster says if I want the priveledge of studying to be a loremaster myself then I'd better learn to respect my elders and my forerunners, and if I'm not ready to appreciate the priveledge then I can labor with all the other hobbits.

I thought they'd put me in the iron mines but I've been with the gravediggers for the past two days. All I know is that grave-digging is a lot harder than I thought it would be and my hands are so blistered I can hardly hold the pen. I wonder who the graves are for and why they need so many of them. Some are big and some are small.

Phura is learning more of Loremaster Lindo's lullabyes. Good grief, how many did he write? He sang this for me last night. I wonder who Lily was. Phura said he'd ask. He said he learned three others that Lindo's mother wrote; one is sappy but two are about the elves. I'm falling way behind.

Lily's Lullabye

Dancing feet and tossing hair
And shining smile that lit the day
Running limbs and sparkling eyes
All quiet now, and tucked away.

Dream of us, as safe you rest
And sleep beneath the dark, wide sky
And we will dream of you, and bless
The time we had to watch you play.


3319, Second Age, Day # 18
I finally recited successfully all three songs, the Snowbattle, Nitir's lullabye and Azra's lullabye. I thought that would get me out of trouble. Loremaster says not yet. I wonder how long I'll be digging graves.

More bad dreams again. I dreamed that up above in Meneltarma both men and hobbits were dying every day and being buried in the graves. And I dreamed that they buried me, and Loremaster, and Phura too. I woke up crying and I was so glad when I realised that Phura was unhurt. Phura sang me to sleep again with Azra's lullabye, and Pongo's lullabye which I copied out below. Phura says that Lily and Pongo were two children that died in Ladros. I guess some lullabyes are all right sometimes.

Pongo's Lullabye

Stars shimmer as you lie sleeping
Bluest velvet promises keeping,
Gently sleep, so softly sleep
Slipping gently off to sleep.

Shooting stars in heaven dancing
Crescent moon is backwards glancing
Gently dream, so softly dream
Drifting gently into dreams.

Smile with heaven's starry gleaming,
Yeild now to Eru's sweet singing,
Gently rest, so softly rest
Finding gently heaven's rest.

'*************************

3319, Second Age, Day # 19
Phura sang a lullabye that I've never heard before called the Workhouse Lullabye and he says Lindo wrote it. And he said not to write any more about it. Here it is:

Through the ruin laughing lightly
Nitir speaks and smiles so brightly
Over little children watching
Safely keeping them and guarding,

Darkness driving far away
While the children work and play.

In the Workhouse Azra dances
Laughing when the sunlight chances
Down upon the floor to glimmer
There her agile steps will shimmer

Darkness driving far away
While the children work and play.

All the dreary day they guard you,
Azra and Nitir will hide you
From the shadows outside lurking,
From the darkness evil working.

Safe inside they keep you hidden,
Every shadow outside driven
While they laugh and speak and smile
and dance and guard you all the while,

Darkness driving far away
While the children work and play.


And there's another secret one I've never heard before and I'm not supposed to say much about:

Nitir and Azra, come to me,
Sailing ships across the sea,
Guided by a lonely star
Take us safely, safely far
far away, where elves can play
Elves can sing and dance all day
Shining elves so bright and brave
Take us away upon the wave.

Nitir and Azra, come and find
Where we languish far behind
your sailing ships with shining prow,
Take us quickly, quickly now
far away, where elves can play
Elves can sing and dance all day
Shining elves so bright and brave
Take us away upon the wave.




[ September 10, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ September 14, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mithadan]

After the mid-day meal (which he conceded was excellent), Mithadan cleaned up a bit then climbed to the deck for a breath of fresh air. His head still ached from his "journey" into the West, but this was not the reason that he stood at the rail so long. "May as well get this over with," he muttered as he descended to the crews' quarters below.

Standing before the door to Tule's cabin, he hesitated again. He had not spoken privately to Pio since the revelation the night before, and felt that, notwithstanding her jolly temper of the morning, he had stripped her of something which she at least had felt she needed. But it was too late now; Tule was gone, never to return and his decision could not be unmade. He reached out and knocked on the cabin door...

[Child of the 7th Age]

Child spent the day organizing supplies. Bird and the hobbits had worked diligently to prepare everything for transport. Child decided to check with Pio to see if an extra seacow or two could be brought along in tow, in addition to those swimming in the vat below deck. Other than that, she was more than satisfied with their preparations.

But something else bothered Child. While she had nothing specific to go on, she wondered if the hobbits had found this imprisonment more difficult than the first. Morgoth's veil had given that community the illusion of being imprisoned only a year. But ar-Phrazon had no control over time. And he had kidnapped the group some sixty years ago.

Sixty years was a long time to survive without losing hope. Entire generations had been raised with no understanding of freedom. A painful thought hit Child. She had been dreading the expected loss of lore and letters. She was certain the king had killed many hobbits. But there could be losses even more serious than these.

What if the years of darkness had cut into the hobbits' fear, so that they forgot their love of growing things, or even of family itself? Who could possibly reteach them such things? Pio, or no Pio, these were serious questions.

She wondered when she'd see the Fourth Age again. But then, she recalled, the most precious things, like sky and stars and feelings, changed little from one era to the next.

[ September 09, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

She heard the knock at the door, at first hesitant in sound, and then more sure.

'Come!' she called out from her seat on the bed. Papers and maps lay about the room in untidy pilings, and she pushed a stack of them from a nearby chair to make room for her visitor.

Mithadan entered, a hesitant look on his face. She looked at him with keen, appraising eyes, unsure herself of what should be said.

There was an awkward moment of silence between them, broken first by Mithadan's,
'Pio, I'm so sor . . .' She stopped him with a light touch to his arm.

'Please, allow me to speak first.' she entreated. She leaned back against the headboard of the bed and rubbed her neck, wearily. 'I am running on a thin, ragged edge here, Mithadan, torn between what I had planned to do and the undeniable reality of my deep affection for my companions. I have set the first aside, as best I can, for the moment - at least the part concerning my intent only to engage you with offers of technical help and then return as quickly as possible to the West. To be quite honest with you, it would bring me great sorrow to think upon it too long.' She took a deep breath and continued.

'I know why you did what you did. I understand your reasonings. You're a good Captain who understands his crew and puts their needs first. I do not fault you for that. Indeed, how could I? As that has long been my guiding principle. I thank you for realizing what I should have, and bringing it to my attention.' She laughed a small, tired laugh saying, 'Though the manner of your approach might have been less dramatic!'

'My deepest concern is with the bonds of affection with which I am bound to my friends. And yes, the bonds feel like fetters at time to me.' She looked at him directly.

'You asked Tulë to let Pio come back. She came - the Pio that the companions needed. Your crew is pulling together, once more.
The role is an old, familiar, well practiced one for me, but it doesn't fit as comfortably and completely as it did before.'

Her brow furrowed slightly in thought for a moment. 'The problem is I'm not sure who this returned Pio will really be.' She laughed and shook her head. 'So, bear with me, my friend.' she said winking at him, impishly. 'You called her forth. Now I'm afraid you'll have to bear the brunt of her emergence.'

[ September 09, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan looked at Pio solemnly for a moment then looked down. "So be it!" he responded with a ghost of a smile. "You have leave to torment me as you will in payment for what I have done...so long as the torment relates to getting to the task at hand." Another silence followed. Mithadan, for some reason could not meet the Elf's eyes and stared fixedly down at the deck.

At last, he looked up. "Well then," he said. "Shall we get to work?"

[piosenniel]

She motioned for him to pull his chair closer as she laid out a map on the bed. 'Look, here are the ports of Andunië and Eldalondë. We know that in 3319 of the Second Age, Ar-Pharazôn will launch his great offensive from these two. We also know the voyage to Eressëa and the encampment at Túna will take 39 days.'

Taking a well-worn pencil, she sketched in the route the Telerin would follow, once they were called, heading in a southeasterly direction from the Shadowy Seas, then north to the waters well off the southern coast of the Isle. 'According to Idril, it will take them twenty days to reach this position.'

'A question.' said Mithadan. 'Do you know the specific date the King will launch his navy?'

'That's one of my problems - no, I don't. I was hoping somewhere in your studies you might have come across a reference to this. Will you look for it? Barring finding the answer so easily, can we contact someone in Númenor to get the date from them? I haven't come up with someone with whom we might do this safely, though.' She rapped the pencil on the map. 'Or what about this idea. We send Bird in her bird form to spy out the departure date for us.'

'Moving beyond that problem, I'd like to call the Telerin ships about two days after the fleet has left. That will give them plenty of time to arrive, and us plenty of time to get away from the Isle before the world is broken. It will also give Levanto time to contact the imprisoned hobbits and let them know we are coming for them. He can also glean information from them about how heavily they are guarded. I also need to speak with Ancalimon about the turn of events that has happened on this ship, and I think he will want to speak with Child concerning the hobbits.'

'What can you add to this? What concerns should we be looking at more closely?'

[ September 09, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

A knock at the door interrupted the discussion of Mithadan's list of concerns.

'Come!' said Pio. It was Child. She had come to say that her inventory of foodstuffs and medical supplies was complete and stowed securely for the shift to Númenor. The elf listened to her request that a few more sea-cows be brought in tow, and gently told her that she would prefer to be able to bring all that was needed directly secured on the ship itself. 'Was there any possible way, the additional sea-cows could be put in the hold with the others?' she wondered. Child said that she and Kali would work on seeing what could be done.

Pio also advised her that once they were in the Second Age, she would be contacting Ancalimon, who would then come to them. If there were any questions that Child had concerning the hobbits, this would be a good time to resolve them with him.

Mithadan had risen when Child entered, and he took his leave of them after a small exchange of greeting. 'I will research the answer to that question, and see what I can find. We will have some time after we shift to pin it down more precisely. Are we resolved to go this evening still?'

'Yes, I think so.' she returned. 'Right after supper, if possible. The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place nicely and I think we can move forward with this mission.'

He had just exited, when her voice called him back. 'I forgot to ask you something.' she said, coming to stand in the doorway. 'I seem to have lost my sword in Beleriand, and I have no other. Do you have one I might use?'

He said he would see about it, and she turned back to Child. 'Let's go abovedeck and see how the others are doing. I need some fresh air and a place to stretch my legs. How about you?'

[Child of the 7th Age]

A gulf of silence hung between the women as they walked onto the deck. Child thought of a hundred questions which needed answers, but she couldn't put them into words.

Pio steered her to the ship's railing. "I need to ask a question." Child steeled herself. She expected a query about Numenor, or a discussion of the West, or even her relationship with Maura. But it was none of these.

Pio recalled, "When we first met, you worked in the home of Hurin, the Dunadan, caring for children. Yet, although you'd been there eleven years, you'd never revisited the Shire."

"When you first told me this, I found it hard to believe. You've said I have too many secrets, but it seems I'm not alone."

"You've sacrificed much to uncover your past. Every scrap you had was invested to chase after "sea-hobbits". You even volunteered to go into Morgoth's prison. Without you, there would have been no Star."

"And yet, this morning, when Rose mentioned returning to the Shire, you turned and left. Why would you do that?"

Child backed away, "My story is no different than many others. It's a long but common tale, and doesn't bear repeating."

Pio said sternly, "I'll be the judge of that. Now, start talking, and don't stop until you've reached the end!"

Child began as if she were reciting a family history from a genealogical book. "My mother, Honeysuckle Brockhouse, was from a reputable family in Coombe-under-Bree said to be related to the Tooks. My father was a simple Harfoot farmer from Hobbiton who worked his own fields. My parents' marriage was a happy one, but they were never accepted by my mother's kin. Even so, the Brockhouse family had been friendly with Bilbo and asked him to keep an eye on us. That's how, I came to know him. That, plus my friendship with his niece Angelica."

"Angelica and I spent every spare moment at Bag End, listening to stories. As I grew older, I began studying history and lore. Bilbo trained me as a teacher, since I was sadly deficient in skills for managing a household or coaxing things to grow. And it was clear I'd have to earn a living."

"That day, when Bilbo disappeared from the party...." Child halted. "He never told me, and I never saw him again. Of course, we know now. But at the time, I couldn't understand." Child's voice trailed off. "Before he left, he gave me a book of hobbit geneology, the one with faded words that sent us chasing after "sea-hobbits".

"Eight years later, my father died in a farming accident. My mother and I hadn't any idea how to run a farm, and lost everything. Her family wouldn't help, and my Aunt Bell was dead. Sam Gamgee and his father offered to take us in, but that would never have been accepted with Bell being gone. Aunt Amalda, my only other kin, had a tiny place with barely enough to keep going."

"In desperation, my mother approached Frodo Baggins. He secured positions for us in Buckland, my mother as a cook and myself as nanny. When my mother died some ten years later of natural causes, she made me swear that I would marry Hob Fields, a family friend. He was a kindly fellow, so we were handfasted and expected to wed that same year. Only Hob was from Tuckborough, and, like many there, followed Pippin to the Battle of Bywater. He was one of just nineteen hobbits killed."

My cousin Sam and his wife Rose invited me to be part of their family. Only I didn't want to live in Bag End like some hand-me-down piece of furniture. When I first heard Daisy's anger as she boarded the Star, I understood a little how she felt."

"Pippin helped me find a position in Minas Tirith where I could be near the library. Whenever I had a free moment, which wasn't often, I'd run there and search for sea-hobbits. For a very long time, I was the only kuduk in the entire city."

"I swore I'd never return to the Shire. I even kept thinking that none of this would have happened if I'd been a lad and could make my way more freely."

"But then I went to Beleriand and something happened. For the first time, I found what I was looking for." Child laughed, "I'm probably the only hobbit in the history of Middle-earth whose fondest memories grew out of a prison! It was Maura, but there were also other things. I felt so much a part of the community, so accepted and comfortable. And then, suddenly, I was torn away. I understood the reasons, but it didn't make the pain any less."

"I'm unsure what to do, but I need to find some way to go forward and be part of my people again. And I don't know if I should be thinking about all this now, when there's so much real suffering in Numenor. But lately, I've had this image of myself living with hobbits, owning a burrow, and maybe even caring for a child. That's not going to happen in the Fourth Age. Sometimes, I've wondered,...." and then she stopped.

"Go on." Pio encouraged her.

"I've wondered if I might not be happier and more useful in the early Third Age community in the Anduin. But I don't know if that's even possible."

She looked expectently at the Elf.

[ September 11, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

'I envy you, Child.' said the elf, smiling gently at her friend. 'You've really made up your mind already, haven't you? You have come to understand how you fit in best, and now you are seeking the where and the when of it.'

Child opened her mouth to protest, but Pio laughed, and continued, 'You know that it is possible to do what you want to do. In fact I find it odd that you would hesitate.' She looked at the hobbit keenly. 'What would hold you back from doing so, I wonder?'

'Not fear, I think. You have seen too much darkness and shadow and come through them to fear making choices. An old sense of guilt, perhaps, that you are somehow unworthy to do this? No, by the light in your eyes when you speak of that which you long to do, I think that tether was loosed long ago.'

Pio leaned forward over the railing, looking far out to sea. 'Were I in your position, Child, I would take the opportunity to be of use in a place where I was needed.' She sighed.

'Tomorrow we will be in Númenor. Ancalimon will join us there to see to the final disposition of the hobbits. I think that you should speak with him and lay your questions before him.'

She turned to look closely at her friend, 'Whatever you decide, I will support you.'

[ September 11, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan borrowed several books from Child's cabin and began researching the date on which the Numenorean fleet departed for Valinor. The year was well known, Second Age 3319. But the precise date was obscure. He reviewed the Akallabeth but discovered that it was silent on this matter. Other books of history were similarly unhelpful.

Then, based upon a niggling memory from his own long passed studies of the history of Gondor, he took up one of his own books and flipped through it until he reached a section entitled "Festivals". Here, he found the following:

"Thrice each year are the Festivals of Planting and Harvest celebrated... And on Loende is the Festival of First Fruits which corresponds to the Numenorean holiday of the same name. It is said that on Loende, the King of Numenor would ascend the Meneltarma to make offering of the first fruits to Eru. On this day also did the forces of Ar-Pharazon set sail in rebellion against the Valar and so even greater was the insult of that assault. Thus we of Gondor celebrate this day both in joy for what will be and regret for what was."

Mithadan closed the book. "Loende," he whispered. "Mid-summer!"

[piosenniel]

Child had gone below to help supervise the preparation of supper. Pio walked the ship once more to see that all was in place for their journey this evening. She lingered on the helmdeck, looking through the calculations Veritas and Khelek had done for their next shift.

She chewed on her lower lip in mild frustration over the missing piece of information that would allow them to pinpoint the exact date to which they would shift. 'Hmm! I suppose we shall just have to make our best guess and then go from there once we arrive in the waters of Númenor.' she muttered to herself.

'Oh, I think we can do better than that!' came the pleased voice from behind her. Mithadan, grinning widely, held an open book in one hand and thumped authoritatively on one of its pages with the other.

'It's Loëndë!That's the day that Ar-Pharazôn launched his ships for the West!' He handed her the book and she read the passage for herself.

She took up a pencil from table on which the sheets of calculations were lying and quickly wrote the date in the blank. 'Let's set the crystal for 1 Cermië, then, the day after the fleet has launched.' she said. 'Once there, I will call for Ancalimon, and contact Idril concerning the swan-ships. The Teleri can start for the Isle early the following day. And we can send out Levanto to the caves. How does that sound to you?'

They discussed the matter for a few minutes, and came to a mutually satisfactory agreement. By then, the savoury smell of supper had drifted up to them, and they hurried down to eat.

Mmmm! Smells good, doesn't it Mithadan?

She heard the sigh run through his mind.

It's fish. I just know it's fish . . .again . . .

[ September 11, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Supper was hurried through, the table cleared, the dishes done.

A certain aura of confidence infused the excitement the crew felt about this part of their journey. They felt well prepared and sure of the outcome.

It was not a sentiment shared by the elf. There were a myriad of places the plan could go sour, falter, perhaps even become dangerous, or worse yet, fatal. She felt a vague uneasiness that something important may have been overlooked, but could not bring it into focus.

The uneasiness receded somewhat, but did not disappear, as she checked the ship once more, and then had Levanto brought on board.

She went quickly to her room, and buckled on the sword she had gotten from the ship's armory. A full complement of knives of various sizes were secured in her boot tops and her belt.

The companions had all gathered on the deck, by the time she reappeared. She strode to the helm deck and nodded at Veritas to engage the crystal.

By the One! Let this all work out! she thought to herself.

The air shimmered and winked out taking the ship with it. And then, there they were, in the calm waters of the Sundering Sea, one hundred miles directly south of Númenor.

[Mithadan]

Mithadan stood near the helm, watching as Veritas activated the crystal. After the now familiar shimmering came and passed, he moved to the rail to scan the horizon. Far to the north, he could just make out a sail. He quickly moved to stand next to Piosenniel and nudged her, pointing to the north. She shaded her eyes with her hand and peered intently at the distant vessel.

"A fishing boat," she said. "I can see the nets and the crew working. Nonetheless, we should not come closer to shore until they depart."

Mithadan agreed. From the moment they had arrived in the Second Age, a feeling of unease had come over him. An almost physical sensation that danger and implacable evil was nearby. He shuddered.

Pio looked over at him and said, "I feel it also. It is the Dark One. His power waxes now, with the departure of the Numenorean fleet and a shadow falls upon Elenna. Guard your thoughts Mithadan! Remember that there is at least one here who may hear."

[piosenniel]

She left Mithadan to see to the rest of the crew, asking him to remind them of the particular dangers of this time. Khelek, Veritas, and Angara were to be given the instruction to use verbal communication only; osanwe must be kept for emergencies and then only with tight, brief sendings.

Which was what she proposed to do right now. She strode to the bow, and leaned on the railing. Recalling her sense of Ancalimon's mind, and that he had told her he would be near the Isle when she called, she sent a focused call - Come!.

To Idril went the call they had agreed upon.

Avad!

For the moment, now, there was nothing to do but wait and keep close watch.

[ September 11, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Rose Cotton]

Rose shuttered even though the air was warm. She had a pritty good idea of who Pio was talking about and it made her uneasy. She didn't know why this was getting her so worked up. She was never this aprehencive before. Silently, Rose slipped away from the others and went below deck.

[piosenniel]

The evening passed uneventfully into night. The fishing boat and its crew were long gone from the waters, their nets hauled on board, the boat safely docked until the morrow. Most of the Star’s crew had gone below to catch what rest they could. Even Angara lay lost in dreamings, perched on her mast lookout.

Pio sat on the deck, her feet dangling over the side of the ship. Her arms were draped on the lower railing, and cradled her head as she looked out over the waves, backlit by silvered moonlight. The water slapped against the hull of the Star in an irregular rhythm. The ebb and flow of its intensity rocked the ship in a lulling manner.

Far across the waters, to the northwest, the elf’s piercing eyes caught the movement of some small shadow moving through the waves at a steady pace toward the Star. It drew nearer, and she could see the outline of a single, small sail, billowed out, though the night was still and no breeze stirred.

Now the skiff came into clearer view, as it passed through a ribbon of moonlight. A single figure stood at the tiller, intent on making for the ship. Pio stood and moved into the shadows, pulling the darkness about her as a cloak, her eyes never leaving the approaching craft .It pulled silently alongside the Star, its sail now gone flat, and the figure within made to secure it to the ship.

The elf leapt silently down to the skiff , sword drawn, as the pilot pulled the last hitch tight. ‘Make no moves!’ she hissed quietly at the caped and hooded figure. She flipped back the hood with the tip of her sword to reveal the intruder’s face.

‘Ancalimon!’ she cried out in surprise. ‘I did not expect you to come so quickly!’

He looked at her closely as she resheathed her weapon, and stood now smiling before him.

‘Piosenniel? I thought not to see you here. What has happened?’

[piosenniel]

They sat on deck, beneath the now paling stars and talked softly. The elf asked many questions concerning the hobbits they were to rescue and the manner in which they were held. Pio pressed him for any knowledge of whether Sauron knew of the imprisoned hobbits, or if he had guessed in any way their importance to the battle against the Shadow and Darkness. She did not relish the thought of facing him in battle, and looked to find a way to avoid it.

The sun was just peering over the ocean's eastern rim, when she finished her questioning. Sitting back in her chair, hands clasped across her belly, she chewed gently on her lower lip, thinking about what she had learned.

Ancalimon cleared his throat and said something to her, breaking the continuity of her thinking. 'I'm sorry', she said. 'What did you say?'

'I asked if perhaps we might get some hot tea to drink. My throat is parched from talking so much!'

'I'm sorry!' she said. 'What a poor host I've been. Come with me to the galley and we will make us a pot of tea and perhaps some breakfast.'

Ancalimon sat at the table while she brewed the tea and rummaged for clean mugs in the cupboard. He watched her as she poured them each a steaming mug, and then sat across from him. Sipping his slowly and appreciatively, he waited patiently for her to tell him what had happened to 'Tulë'.

She cradled her warm mug in her hands, and shook her head. 'Simply put - it was an ill constructed fiction from the first. I never thought it would work. I only hoped that it might. I couldn't hold true to it, and Mithadan saw through it. The companions were fragmented and had lost their clarity of purpose. He called me back, and here I am. Pio, once again.'

'But not the same, I think.' came his soft comment.

'No, not the same. More clear, I think. Steadier. Less brash, less impulsive.' She smiled a little. 'I'm growing to like this person. I'm just not certain as yet how she fits in.'

'There will be time enough for that to happen, don't you think?' he asked.

'No doubt!' she answered, amused by the question. 'Time is something I seem to have plenty of!'

She heard footsteps coming down the gangplank and toward the galley. A voice called out, and she turned to see who had come through the doorway. She smiled.

'Ah, there you are! Come and have some tea with us!' She poured another mug of the steaming brew, and motioned toward a vacant chair.

[ September 12, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Mithadan, looking none too rested, plopped himself wearily into the chair and accepted the mug. 'I see we have a visitor.' he said, nodding his head toward Ancalimon in acknowledgement. He raised his eyebrows at Pio 'Perhaps I should have been informed that he had come aboard . . . safety of the ship and all . . .?'

'Oh, the ship was well defended!' interjected Ancalimon.'She nearly skewered me before I had the chance to explain who I was!'

'My apologies, Mithadan! I would have roused you had I thought there was need of it.'

She topped off both their mugs and stood to go. 'By your leave, gentlemen, there is something I need to do early today, so I'd best get to it. Enjoy your tea!'

'Is it possibly something I should know about, too?' asked Mithadan in a vexedly amused manner, as she reached the doorway.

'Ah, yes. It's Levanto. I'm going to send him upriver this morning to scout for us. I'm sure I told you about that somewhere along the line, didn't I?'

She ran upstairs hurriedly, leaving them to the comfort of their tea and each other's company.

[ September 12, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

3319, Second Age, Day # 20

Phura learned another new song; but the wierd thing is, he won't sing it to me. He says it makes him cry. Phura? Phura can sing through anything! No matter how depressing, sappy, or heartbreaking it is, Phura can sing it all the way through, without his voice breaking at all. I wish I was that way. But anyway, he won't sing it for me. He says it's about a black and white creature. So I went to Loremaster and asked him to sing it for me (I never do that.) And do you know what he said? He said, No, because it makes him cry.

I cannot believe that I don't get to hear this song. And I bet when I hear it I won't even understand why it makes them cry; they never cry about the same stuff I do.

Lullabyes. Sheesh.

[ September 13, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The door to the cabin lay half open. From within came the notes of a simple tune. Ancalimon poked his head inside. Scattered about on table and bed and chair lay the reassuring clutter of this and that, the typical signs of a small hobbit dwelling. This homely sight made a welcome change after a week of too much sorrow. He had seen many small graves at the foot of Eru's Mount. With sadness, the peddler recalled the eyes of a people frightened and confused. They seemed perilously close to being lost.

Yet, here, before him on the Star, stood a small enclave of hobbit sturdiness and laughter which reminded him why he was here. He glanced over at the woman. Her back was towards him, as she gazed through the porthole at the open sea.

Ancalimon cleared his throat, then loudly stamped the end of his staff against the wooden floor. As the woman turned, she gave him a look both welcoming and impatient. "Where have you been?" she retorted. "I was afraid I'd never see you again."

"Nitir, you didn't believe me? I promised you we would meet again." He chuckled and shook his head, "Still stubborn, and with so many questions!"

"Now, I didn't mean that! Only it seemed like such a long time. And the hobbits?" she asked with pounding heart. "Have you seen them?"

"I could only enter the tombs one time. I didn't dare draw attention to your people, since the Mount itself has been corrupted. And my coming and going only increased their risk. It's too dangerous. But I did manage to slip in once this past week."

Child leaned forward, while Ancalimon described the stark conditions he had witnessed. The hobbit found herself shivering as she listened to his tale.

She sighed, "After all we've acomplished, after the sacrifice Piosenniel made, it sounds as if we still don't know whether my kin will survive. Even if Mithadan and Pio's plan works, it may not be enough. Perhaps the imprisonment has been so harsh they've forgotten who they are."

"I didn't say that. Only that the hard work will not end when the Star sails away. The rescue is but half the task. There's no magic here. This is real life. The story goes on, and at least for now, your own part in it as well."

"After the rescue, if all goes well, and that is not a certan thing, there will be a choosing at the foot of Meneltarma. Every hobbit, every hobbrim, even those on the Star, will be asked to make their choice."

"For you and your friends, there will be three paths from which to choose. One will lead home to the Fourth Age, the next will bring you transformed to the shores of Meneltarma itself, while the final road, perhaps the most dangerous, leads towards Anduin of the early Third Age."

She glanced at him, "Pio has told you my questions? That I have been thinking about staying with the hobbits after we sail to Anduin?"

"Yes, you can make this choice if you're sure it's what you want. And your skills and heart would be badly needed by that community."

"But you must understand what you're choosing. All of the history, the lore, and the songs will go with the hobbrim into the hidden depths of time. For your people in the Anduin, there will be a struggle to survive and find themselves again. All the community, the structures and even the values that you loved in Maura's hobbits, will be gone."

"And, for a long time, there will be few books and little learning, those things you've always cherished. So before you answer, you must realize this."

She thanked him and was about to say goodbye. But one more thing came spilling out, "Did you see him again?" she asked.

Ancalimon smiled, "Yes, many times. He never forgot his words to you, although his family and his efforts to make the community grow brought great satisfaction."

"His body was buried on the bluff near the stone with the inscription? I went back to the island later, and felt a little of him there."

The peddler nodded his assent. She looked up and quietly said, "I also haven't forgotten. That's one of the reasons I want to make certain the choice I make is right."

[ September 13, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[mark12_30]

Gamba flexed his blistered hands as he tiptoed down towards the water. He had no appetite for dinner that night. He silently passed the circle of laughing children in the lingering twilight that shone dimly up the river tunnel. The children frolicked and gamboled, laughing and singing, and he was glad of their noise, glad to be distracted from his grim thoughts.

Four of his close friends had lost a parent over the past two weeks since he had been digging graves. Many more hobbits had quietly disappeared, and graves had been filled shortly after they were dug. The friendly guards that Phura had learned the hymns to Eru from, had disappeared, replaced by grim, silent men.

Adding grief to grief, a section of the iron mine had collapsed a week ago. Over thirty hobbits had died in the mine. Although every able-bodied hobbit had been digging out the rubble of the collapsed mine, all night for three nights, even so only three hobbits had been recovered alive by digging, and of those three, one was dead and one barely hung on to life. The other was relatively unhurt. But they had buried more than thirty dead hobbits.

Gamba sat by the water, and listened to the children play. Phura, having followed him down the tunnel, joined him silently.

Gamba gazed out at the dark water. "I'm sick of digging, " he said quietly. "I'm sick of death."

Phura sat by him, and put a hand on his shoulder, and softly replied, "We live in the tombs; death is all around us. But it will not always be so."

"So you say," Gamba replied. "But Azra and Nitir are not here, and hobbits die every night."

"I know," Phura said. "I know. I'm sorry." His heart ached for his little brother, but he did not know how to make gravedigging easier, or less horrifying. He felt powerless. "I'm going to go back to the graves, and sing over them, " Phura said.

"Sing what?" Gamba said, knowing the answer.

"Lullabyes. What else?" Phura said.

"Do you think that is what they wrote them all for? For funerals?"

"Some of them. Not all, " Phura said, rising. He laid his hand on his brother's head, and thought of Eru, and wished he could encourage his brother, but no words came. He went back up the tunnel.

Gamba sat and listened to the children singing and laughing, and wondered how long he could stay there unnoticed, and how long the children would be allowed to play past twilight.

[ September 13, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

in case

[ September 13, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

It was a long way to the mouths of the River Siril. Levanto swam steadily, thinking about all that had happened these last few weeks. He hadn't truly realised the depth of his affection for the elf until they told him she was gone, and he thought never to see her again. Yet, she had come back. But not in the way he needed her.

She had come to him beneath the waves to tell him of her return. They talked long and deeply, and he sought to plead his suit to her. But she turned him gently from that pursuit, saying it was not to be. He asked if there were another, but she did not answer, saying only that she would hold him always in her heart, as she hoped he would do for her. He could not persuade her otherwise.

Yet, still he loved her, and for the love of her he would accomplish the task she had set him.

It was early evening when he entered the river, proper, swimming deep beneath the surface of its waters. In shadows he surfaced, taking in the lay of the area about each bank. He had only seen three or four fishing boats, docked in the port of Nindamos, and only a few smaller craft sailed past him, unseen below, as he worked his way farther up the river. None of these appeared to be patrol boats carrying soldiery when he surfaced to look at them.

The stream stayed deep, though its bank narrowed as he approached the area of the Valley of the Tombs. He surfaced carefully, and saw only a few guards in the area along the perimeter of the caves. Grim men intent on their grim purposes.

Twilight now had given way to approaching darkness. He dove deep beneath the waters and pursued the stream to the tunnel where it entered into the caves. Surfacing silently, he strained his ears and eyes in the gloom, but could discover no sign of hobbits.

He thought to enter the water once more and make his way deep into the caves when a nearby sigh, and the sound of a small pebble striking the water near him made him wary. He slipped further into the shadow and let his sharp senses pick up the source of the sounds.

A husky, young voice sang softly into the night air, accompanied only by the sound of the water splashing over the rocks as it passed down the tunnel.

"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."

He sang one verse, and then hummed through two others, ending with this refrain -

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

Then the voice stopped, and there was silence, broken only by the occasional pebble idly tossed.

Levanto, taken by the beauty of the poem, and the clear voice which sang it, emerged from the water, and resting on his arms, looked the surprised singer full in the face.

'That was lovely!' he said. 'Quite lovely. Do you know any more?'

[mark12_30]

Gamba stared, mouth open and holding his breath, and strained his eyes in the dim twilight. The voice was deep and resonant like a man; he had never heard of a man swimming up this river. But the guards had all been changed, and who was to know what strange habits they had-- or new assignments? Was this some sort of trap? Panic rose in his stomach and he fought it down, trying to buy time.

"Why-- thank you," he replied. "I-- I can't remember the other two verses, " he confessed, feeling sheepish in the midst of his panic. "I'm sorry." And I wouldn't sing them for you until I knew who you really were, he thought, and added awkwardly, "I didn't expect anyone to be here."

Wafting down the tunnel, a small voice was heard saying "Loremaster is gone. Come on, one more round! It's not that dark yet." Another replied, "I can hardly see! I don't want to bash into the walls." And a third: "It's not your turn anyway. It's my turn!"

Gamba desperately searched his mind for small talk, fearful for the children, wondering if this was a guard, what he would do. Why hadn't the children left yet? It was late, and they should be in bed. He fidgeted and studied the dripping face in front of him, and opened his mouth. "What's your name, sir?"

"Levanto," languidly replied the melodious voice. "And may I have the pleasure of your name, young sir?"

"Gamba. You can't really be Levanto," Gamba replied.

"Oh? And why not?"

"You're no merman. You have feet," Gamba replied. "And that was years and years ago."

Levanto studied Gamba. Much time had passed. What did these little folk remember? A lot, perhaps, he reflected, thinking of the many songs that Kali knew. But there were more important matters at hand. "Time is less of an impediment than one of your tender years might think, little Gamba. And although I may be like you in some ways, perhaps in many ways, let me assure you with the gravest sincerity, that as a matter of verifiable fact, I do not have feet."

With a luxuriating stretch that rolled along the length of his spine and continued through to his fins, Levanto casually flicked his flipper-tail up to the right, waved it a little, and then gave the water a playful smack, sending dark droplets all over Gamba. "There, you see. No feet. Now, do you have any other reasons to question that my name is indeed Levanto?"

Levanto was temporarily gratified by Gamba's stunned silence as the boy rose to his feet gaping. Several issues, incuding several of his dreams, pressed into the boy's mind clamoring for attention, but one, driven by weeks of daydreaming and desire for escape from the death and darkness, came to the top, and the boy thrust the rest aside. Levanto was quite unprepared for the next question that came in a quavering, emotion-packed voice. "Then-- then--- tell me. Was she really as beautiful as they say? In the starlight? Was she? Tell me. Tell me all about her."

And suddenly a chorus of voices began.

"Levanto, Levanto,
Silly, sorry merman, He!
Pursuing Piosenniel
Away across the sea."

There was enough light for Gamba to see the merman's jaw drop open.

[ September 13, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[ September 13, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Rose Cotton]

Rose walked down the hall towards Child's room. On the way she passed Ancalimon and waved a greating to him.
Then she poked her head into her friend's room. Child looked like she was deep in thought sitting at her desk. "Hi. Would you like some tea?" Rose asked offering the mug she had been carrying. Child took it greatfully. "Child. Is there somthing wrong? I don't seem to understand. I know we're rescueing the hobbits but there seems to be somthing more to it."

[piosenniel]

'A children's song? You've made a game of it, young sir?' Levanto was stunned by the sing-song rhyme he had just heard. He slapped his tail hard on the water, this time in anger. 'What sort of mockery is this?' he asked in a hushed and dangerous tone. He rose high along the tunnel bank and grabbed the young hobbit by the front of his shirt, bringing him close. 'You dishonor her!'

He pushed the youngster back forcefully in irritation. 'Perhaps she is wrong.' he said to himself, shaking his head in disgust. 'Perhaps you hobbits are not worth saving.' He turned to go.

'Wait!' cried Gamba. 'We mean no dishonor to her. It is our way to keep her memory close.' He came to the side of the river and sat close to the mer-man. Beginning in a low, quavering voice, he sang the rhyme to Levanto, who lingered, unmoving in the middle of the waters, eyes snapping with anger. As he sang, his voice became more steady. The words hung like small jewels between the two, in the still night air.

Levanto, Levanto,
Silly, sorry Merman, He!
Pursuing Piosenniel
Away across the sea.

Lovely smile in moonlight beaming
Shining hair in starlight gleaming
Darling Pio, Bright Pio,
Lovely Piosenniel.

Song and dance the heart enchanting
Ancient wisdom understanding
Thoughtful Pio, Wise Pio,
Noble Piosenniel.

Elven maiden strong and free,
Swift across the land or sea,
Bold Pio, fleet Pio,
Daring Piosenniel.

In the house of Lady Idril
And for Gondolin she fell,
Valiant Pio, Brave Pio,
Lady Piosenniel.

A silence held the two, long after the song had ended, forming a tenuous bond between the one who remembered and the one who dreamed.

Gamba heard the voice of the mer-man, now come near to him, along the river's edge. It drew him from from his reverie, and he thought he had misheard.

'She is all those things you have sung to me, and more.' came Levanto softly. 'The beauty of her takes your breath away. And when she sings and dances, you are lost.'

[ September 13, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

"Wait," Gamba puzzled. "You said-- what did you say? You said, Perhaps she is wrong; perhaps you hobbits are not worth saving."

Levanto, lost in reverie, waited while Gamba struggled between what he wanted to hear and what he suddenly felt he must do. His words tumbled out of him faster and faster til Levanto's head tipped to one side.

"You're the creature that came and spoke to the children. Aren't you? You must be. And so the flood is coming. Isn't it? Did Piosenniel send you to save us? How will you? And does that mean-- but no, she died. She died in Gondolin. But you'll tell me all about her, won't you? Please. You must. But I've got to tell the elders. Please, please wait here! I want you to tell me all about her. What about Nitir and Azra? You've got to tell the elders too--"

"Tell the elders what?" a very little voice asked, and Gamba jumped and turned.

The forgotten ring of Levanto-players peered out from behind various rocks and hollows with wide eyes. "Gamba, is it really him? Is it really Levanto?" asked one of the oldest boys.

Levanto swam slowly forward, and the children becan coming out of hiding. Levanto placed his hands on the rocks again, and the children approached him, the smaller ones with hushed giggles. But the older boys, and the girls, did not laugh.

"You must miss her terribly, sir, " said the oldest boy, about thirteen. "She must have been the most beautiful woman ever."

Levanto looked up at the young hobbit, not much smaller than Gamba. "I always thought so, " he quietly replied.

Surprising himself, Levanto gently submitted to the children's curiosity, and let them touch his hair and his arms and his shoulders.

"Do you really have no feet?" the littlest boy asked, and one more thump-splash of his flukes caused squeals of delight. Gamba worried that the squeals would bring the guards. He turned to the three eldest boys. "Go and find the Loremaster, and tell him that Gamba said Levanto is here. All right? Run. Tell the elders too."

"We all should go," said the eldest lass. "It's past our bedtime. Come on. Let's run!" And with that, all but the littlest child, all turned and raced up the tunnel.

Little Roka stayed, studying Levanto with his big wide eyes. "My name is Roka. And someday, " he lisped, "I want to see an elf-maiden too. In the starlight."

Levanto smiled. "Roka, someday you shall."

[mark12_30]

Gamba had something nagging at the back of his mind again. He put his arms around Roka, waiting for the Loremaster to come, and then looked closely at Levanto.
"Sir, you said, 'She is all those things you have sung to me, and more.' And you said, 'The beauty of her takes your breath away. And when she sings and dances, you are lost.' Why did you say, 'she is; she takes; she sings and dances?' I thought she died in Gondolin."

[ September 13, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mithadan]

In the back of his mind, the nagging feeling of darkness and nearby evil continued to plague Mithadan. The brief meeting with Ancalimon did little to dispell his disquiet. He wondered briefly if he might build a mental wall against it before beginning the day's tasks.

In the small armoury below decks, he took a rapid accounting of available weaponry. Each member of the landing party, whether they liked it or not, would be armed. There were a number of knives, both long and short, which would be suitable for the Hobbits. He set aside throwing knives for Piosenniel. There were additional swords available, as well as light armour and leather jerkins, but none were Hobbit-sized. He set three large leather shirts aside to see if they might be altered to fit the Halflings. Joining these were stout wooden staffs which could be shortened and reshod. The bows required restringing, he noted, but there were arrows aplenty as well as several quivers.

He carried a bundle to the main deck and sorted the arms which required mending or alteration. Taking a saw and other tools, he set about shortening the staffs. Soon, he was sweating heavily in the bright sun. He paused and wiped his brows with a slight smile, remembering Pio...Tule's comment several days before about his need for a bath.

Looking up at the helm, he saw Pio standing alongside Veritas. Her dark, curly hair seemed almost to glow in the sunlight. She moved with Elven grace as she spoke, gesturing to the north. He looked on for a moment, then blinked and looked away. Shaking his head, he resumed his work.

[piosenniel]

Levanto chose his words carefully, wondering how much this young man could take in. He thought to tell him of the elf's return, but a growing noise stopped him. He looked at Gamba questioningly, saying instead, 'Who comes, young one?'

Then silently he slipped into the shadows and waited.

[mark12_30]

Gamba thought with surprise that the elders were approaching at a very rapid pace. "I've never known any of the elders to run before."

Sure enough, seven white-haired hobbits came puffing and sweating towards the water, led by the Loremaster. They approached Gamba, and Gamba stood (still holding Roka) and led them towards Levanto, waiting quietly in the shadows.

They all unceremoniously mopped their brows and faces with their sleeves, arranged themselves hastily, bowed deeply, and respectfully-- but quickly-- approached Levanto, with polite greetings. During the softly spoken greetings, unseen and unheard behind them, Phura arrived, slipped behind a rock, and waited. Gamba pretended not to have seen anything.

Levanto approved of both their haste and their respect. "I greet you all, " he intoned musically, and they bowed again. "You know that Levanto is my name. I am sent to bring you a message from the Lady Piosenniel; I am to inform you that Nitir and Azra have come."

A ripple of hopeful joy and gleeful expectation ran through the elders and they smiled and thanked him, and listened again. Loremaster fidgeted with delight.

Levanto shifted out of the shadows to the far lefthand side of the lip of the tunnel, placed his hands on the rocks again and with one practiced flip of his flukes, sat on the ledge with his back to the wall so that he could better be heard. The elders assembled around him, and he softly proceeded to outline the initial directions that Piosenniel had given him to give to the elders. He requested schedules, guard movements and information, and told them of further plans to contact them.

Gamba listened, hoping that he would be able to remember it all, but glad that the elders and the Loremaster all had a better memory than he did. He found himself wondering whether little Roka had understood any of it; the child in his arms was rather sharp. And then he thought of Phura hidden behind the rock, and knew he would remember every word.

[ September 14, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

When Levanto was satisfied the hobbits had understood what he needed from them, he entered the river once again, saying that he must return to the ship to let the companions know that he had made contact. He bade them meet with him again in two nights.

The elders withdrew for a moment to speak among themselves. They returned saying that two of them would meet with him, at the requested time. Two would be easier to hide, they thought, less likely to attract the attention of the guards. Two days would give them plenty of time to gather the needed information. They bowed deeply to the mer-man and took their leave of him.

Loremaster beckoned to Gamba to come along with them, but he declined, a pleading look on his face, saying that there was one more question he needed answered by Levanto. Loremaster relented, instructing him, though, to come along directly when Levanto had left.

Gamba approached the edge of the river and knelt down to be face to face with the mer-man. His heart beat wildly. 'We were interrupted when the elders came.' he said. 'You never got a chance to answer my question.'

'What question was that?' asked Levanto, tired from the long day's exertions. 'I cannot seem to recall it.' A brief sound of someone moving in the rocks behind Gamba, brought the mer-man to full alert. 'Beware, hobbit! There is something which moves in the darkness behind you.' he said quietly.

Gamba laughed softly, and called to his brother. 'Come out, Phura! He has spied you out!'

A lone figure emerged from his hiding place behind the rocks and sheepishly joined Gamba at the waterside. Bowing, he greeted Levanto courteously, then knelt beside his brother.

Gamba turned once again to face the mer-man, his question burning in his mind, his eyes filled with hope and longing. 'You spoke of her in the present, Sir.' he said. ' You said "She is; she takes; she sings and dances?' I thought she died in Gondolin."

'Yes,' said Phura, leaning forward as eagerly as his brother, 'you speak of her in the present. How can this be?'

Levanto smiled, gauging the longing he saw in the faces of these two young hobbits. He spoke quietly the truth they knew and the truth they hoped to hear.

'She died in Gondolin, a hero just as your song tells it. And now, when our need for her was greatest, she has come back from the West.' He looked fondly at the two who hung on his every word. 'When you are away from here, in some safer place, then tell her of your wishes. Perhaps on a starlit night she will grant them for you. He sang their couplet to them -

Lovely smile in moonlight beaming
Shining hair in starlight gleaming . . .

He bade them fare well until his return, and vanished beneath the waters of the Siril. Gamba watched as the last ripple spread out in circles and disappeared against the rocks on the river's bank.

'She lives!' he said wonderingly to his brother. 'She lives.'

[ September 14, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Rose Cotton]

ooc: If I get this wrong please correct me an I will edit this post::

Child thought for a moment and then decided to tell Rose the whole truth. "If we manage to resue the hobbits there is one more challenge we must face. The hobbits will be going in two seperate directions. Some will decide to dwell in the water, perserving thier lore and heritage and become what we know as hobbrim. The rest will be taken to the Anduin in the early Third Age and forget thier past troubles.

Kali will stay with his oun kind. You, Daisy and I will have the choice of those two paths or the choice of going back to our own time."

"That doesn't seem too bad." Said Rose. "I mean we're gonna go home." But Child was shaking her head.
"It's not that simple for me."
"But don't you want to see the Shire again? The rolling hills, the forests, the streams."
"The Shire is not as welcoming to me. I swore I'd never return there. And when I was with Maura..." She paused and then started again. "Right now I'm not sure what I'm going to decide. But you have a choice too. Whether we go the same way or not we are free to choose. Think hard. But don't let it trouble you yet. We still have time."

Rose went silently to her room remembering her days in the Shire.

[GreatWarg]

Khelek finished polishing his sword, looking at the simple beauty of the gleaming blade. It had long been left in its sheath, hidden away underneath his cloak, and after that, among a few of the possessions that was on the Lonely Star. Though he had learned some swordplay in Imladris, there had been no real need to use it, except, of course, if he were riding out with the Sons of Elrond.

Then resheathing the blade, the Elf abandoned the small room to talk to Mithadan. A slight disquiet he sensed from the Man, despite the fact he was trying hard to block it. Perhaps it was just nervousness of the rescue. Or perhaps it was something else. Yet in truth, Mithadan was admirable for a Man. Ulmo was constantly whispering in his ear, giving him strength and wisdom beyond that of any normal Mortal. Then again, how can anyone be sailing upon the rippling brow of Ulmo and not feel his majesty?

((OOC-Just correct me if I'm wrong about anything. And sorry if I seem to be posting a lot less as of late. Community service and homework are really eating up my time this year.))

[mark12_30]

Phura stood beside his brother, wondering, trying to absorb everything he had seen and heard. Gamba still held the half-forgotten, wide-eyed Roka in his arms.

Gamba began to quietly laugh, and then spoke in a hushed whisper. "Can you believe it? It's incredible. Nitir and Azra have returned. We've just met Levanto. And Piosenniel is alive." He softly laughed again, shaking his head, and turned to face his brother. "Can you believe it?"

"Yes, " Phura agreed. "Yes, it is amazing."

"Can you believe it?" Gamba repeated.

Phura nodded slowly. "I can."

"Everything is coming true. Everything. Levanto even talked about other ships; I'll bet you that's the elven fleet from my dream. Everything is coming true. What more could we ask for?"

Sudden tears started in Phura's eyes and he did not answer.

"What else could we ask for?" Gamba repeated. "Phura? Are you all right? Come on, this is a great day. What's wrong?"

Longing suddenly surfaced on Phura's face, and he turned to his brother. "One more thing, " he whispered, half in longing and half in guilt, and the tears fell. "I could ask for one more thing."

"What?" Gamba asked, amazed. But instead of answering, Phura threw his arms around his brother's neck and wept.

I'd better get him to Loremaster, Gamba thought, baffled. He shifted little Roka to one arm, and held Phura with the other, and let Phura finish crying. Then still carrying Roka, Gamba led Phura up the tunnel. Phura kept one hand on Gamba's shoulder, holding on tightly. Gamba wondered what on earth was going on, and how Phura could possibly consider this day incomplete.

Loremaster, telling Gamba nothing, very tenderly sent him away. Gamba took Roka to his sleeping-place. Roka's father had disappeared two nights before, and his mother a week before that. Gamba suddenly decided that Loremaster could be responsible for three as well as two, and he curled up with Roka and sang him a lullabye, thinking that at last the lullabyes were useful for something.

Loremaster spoke with Phura briefly. Phura was quiet when he came to bed in the middle of Gamba's lullabyes, and Phura and Roka drifted off at about the same time.

But later that night Phura woke with a start, and the tears started afresh. Gamba sat up.

"It's nothing, " Phura said. "I had my dream again." But he wouldn't talk about it.

Gamba sang him several lullabyes, and Phura fell asleep again.

[ September 14, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[mark12_30]

After that night, Phura spent every spare moment he could by Gamba's side. Gamba wondered at his sudden devotion, but thought it might be because of Roka, and he appreciated the help. Roka stayed with Phura while Gamba went out with the gravediggers.

Each night brought another list of disappearances, and the list of orphans increased. Phura came back from singing lullabyes with two more children tagging behind him, and they made room for them and kept them warm and fed. Loremaster sadly accepted each child, but said little, and Gamba wondered why.

There was one eight-year-old named Kesha, and a six-year-old named Asta. Phura remarked that they were both named after Snowhobbits, but they came from different families. Kesha followed Phura everywhere, but Asta adopted Gamba, and Asta and little Roka soon became inseparable.

[Mithadan]

Later that day, Mithadan presented the knives, oversized jerkins and staves to Child, Rose, Daisy and Kali. Their intitial protestations he rejected with a scowl. "You must be able to defend yourselves. You may find yourselves beyond the hope of aid from myself, Pio or Khelek and I will not have you proceed unarmed," he said, though he had not doubt the debate would continue.

Child, in particular, argued the point, eventually asking where Piosenniel could be found. "How should I know?" he barked angrily, then turned and stalked away leaving the surprised Halflings to stare at his retreating back.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Child's search for Piosenniel was unsuccessful. Nowhere could the Elf be found. On Mithadan's strict orders, Child spent the afternoon with Rose and Veritas learning how to wield her newly chosen daggers. By the afternoon, her arms and legs ached. Veritas had told her she might also bring her bow when she went with the landing party. That, at least, was consolation.

Men! Child didn't know if it was the gender or the race. But sometime they could be exasperating. Still, she recognized that Mithadan carried a load of responsibility right now. If he sounded gruff or acted strangely, there must be a reason behind it.

That evening, there was little sleep. The feeling of anticipation ran too high. Mithadan and the Elves remained below deck polishing and honing their weapons. The rest sat above in the moonlight. Then, Child remembered Pio's casual reference to a scouting party with Levanto. After she shared this news, there was much speculation about its meaning.

In an attempt to pass the time, the company listened as Kali sang. To Child, his melody seemed hauntingly familiar. Yet she could no longer recall the words. It was almost as if she was already slipping through another veil of time. Only this was one of goodness and safety, so she was not afraid.

As Kali's final notes faded in the wind, Child asked if Ancalimon could share a tale with them, "But not just the dealings of Elves or Men," she begged. "Teach us something of our own people."

Ancalimon nodded in agreement. "I will tell you a story that touches on Valar and Elves and hobbits, and their caring for one another." As he began, Mithadan rejoined the group followed by Veritas and Khelek.

"Shortly after the kuduk were kidnapped and thrust into the tombs, the news of this sadness found its way to Aman. Although the great ones could not interfere, their hearts grieved. This sorrow lay especially heavy on Nienna, who brings hope to the shores of Arda, and also on Ulmo, ruler of its waters."

"Sensing the grief of the Valar and the hobbits' cries, Tuor came before his master. He pleaded to take many swanships filled with Elves, and sail to Numenor to bring freedom to the tombs. For Tuor and Idril had never forgotten the kuduk, nor the sadness that sprang from Gondolin."

"Mighty Ulmo shook his head, 'The time has not come. What you desire may not take place until a hobbit pleads her cause before a Man, and he listens with compassion. Only then will the Star sail and perhaps bring all to right. For unless Man's heart is gentle enough to hear his smaller neighbors, his dominion will fail before it scarcely begins, and the hobbits will be cast into a watery grave."

"'For now, the kuduk must remain hidden from Sauron. Ar-pharazon alone arranged their capture and knows of their importance. This he discovered by chance, when he came upon the ancient command issued by Morgoth in Beleriand.'"

"Yet Ulmo explained that one thing remained in which Tuor might aid him. For there could be no sailing over seas of time without the shining crystal which can gently part its veil. And this crystal was given first into the hands of Manwe, and then from him to Ulmo."

"Then Ulmo explained how it was now his duty to entrust it to others. And these would be beings new to Arda, hobbits who agreed to be transformed under his staff. And these sea hobbits would become part of Ulmo's own people, and swim back to a safe harbor to wait many years."

"In obedience to Ulmo, Tuor's single ship slipped quietly into Numenor, and the Elves made their way on a small vessel along the very same stream where tonight Levanto swims. And as Ulmo had directed, Tuor brought a few Stoor families to safety."

There, the hobbits consented to take up this new task. And, they stood in the presence of Ulmo who waved his great staff and transformed them into hobbrim. In Valinor, this is known as the "First Choosing."

"One group was entrusted with Manwe's crytal, and told to keep it hidden. They were to swim east towards a secret spot. Here, they would wait and watch for a ship, flying under the banner of the Lonely Star. And on that ship, a hobbit woman and an Elf, and even one of the free shapechangers, would stand beside the Man, bound in friendship and hope."

The second group remained behind in Numenor and were told not to leave that spot. For, if evil should befall their kin, they would need to swim east to rescue the crystal. And if Kali had died without going upon the Star, this would have happened."

These faithful hobbrim still wait on the southeast coast of Numenor, living in hidden sea caves. And their hearts are such that, even if disaster were to come, they would not leave their posts. For they swore faithfulness to Ulmo, and would rather die than break that trust."

As Ancalimon's tale ended, silence hung over the Star. But Kali's eyes were alight with fire and concern as he reflected on the doom of his missing kin who had proved faithful so many years. Then he went over by Bird and whispered.

Finally, the two stood up and announced to the group, "We will swim through the waters and rescue these hobbrim. For they are not fish with gills. If a great wave comes over the caves, they will surely die." And each of the hobbits--Rose, Daisy, and even Child--ran up to join them, and begged to come along in the boats to help. Ancalimon smiled and was not surprised at their response. But he told them to wait until the next day when Piosenniel returned, and they could speak with her and Mith to see how this could be done.

[ September 15, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Her afternoon had been spent on the helm deck, going over the calculations with Veritas concerning the ‘when’ of the shift once they had picked up all the hobbits. The Second Age, one year after the sinking, is what they had agreed upon. Only the small island formed by the peak of the Meneltarma would be left in their vicinity, and for all practical purposes, it should be deserted by then. She doubted even birds would have found their way to that lonely, ill-fated place. There they would be able to care for the rescued hobbits who were sick, hungry, and dispirited to the point of despair. That reminded her – she must check once again with Child on the availability of enough foods and medicines.

The next order of business had been to draw up a plan for the placing of the companions on the Telerin ships. She hoped that not all of them would want to be on the first boat, but that they would be willing to be spread out among the twenty ships. She wanted the minds she had already connected with in osanwe to form the easy links for her from the first ship to the Star. Veritas, of course, agreed to remain on the Star, which would be located in the bay just south of the River Siril’s mouths. She would be the one to use the crystal when Pio gave the command. The elf wondered if she could persuade Angara to be on one of the boats nearer to the Star. Though she wondered if the Teleri might object to that or if it might frighten the hobbits.

So much to consider! She stretched, letting the heat of the sun warm her tight muscles and relax them. She caught sight of Mithadan on the deck below, sorting through what appeared to be the contents of the ship’s armory. She smiled, thanking him silently for taking on that task. He had glanced in her direction, and then away when she looked toward him, shaking his head, focused on the task at hand once again. Or so it seemed. Her grey eyes regarded him as he bent to his work. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and she could see the sweat as it beaded on his forearms in the hot sun. Her brow furrowed and she shook her head to clear it of a fleeting and unbidden wondering.

Then Veritas called to her, wanting to clarify another question, and she turned away.

[ September 16, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[mark12_30]

On the afternoon of the second day following Levanto's visit, Gamba's nervous excitement rose to such a pitch that he could not eat. He dug in the graveyards with a grim, fevered ferocity that the guards wondered at, and his companions worried lest he raise their suspicions; one of them whispered to him, and he tried to calm down, but he couldn't.

He looked over to the graves that had been filled in just this morning, and was surprised that he could not cry. Esta's parents, in two of those graves. They had disappeared the same night. That left, as orphans, Esta and her three brothers, Tuka, Kamba, and Barra. Esta was a good friend of Gamba (having frequently been "The Pio" in Gamba's childhood Levanto Ring games) and Tuka and Phura were also good friends.

Gamba had become numb to it all, now, and he wondered grimly if he would be able to weep if they took Phura or Loremaster. Then he shook himself, and dismissed the thought. Please, Eru, he thought, spare me that.

Meanwhile, Phura was inconsolable over his friends' misfortune, and Loremaster had his hands full trying to find foster parents for Esta, Tuka, Kamba, and Barra. Phura was uncharacteristically furious that Loremaster would not adopt all four of them himself. Loremaster would not even entertain the possibility, and Phura took it as a personal insult, and stormed out of the cave they used as a library.

Loremaster ordered Kesha to ride herd on Roka and Asta and keep them close to the still-sullen Phura, and he went to find Elder Tura. They spoke for several hours, and Elder Tura took responsibility for the four children.

[ September 15, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]