[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami instinctively sensed that Pio had called her to the Inn with no real intention of talking with her. She had been mistaken to think that the Elf might find her ideas at all important. She was to be used as no more than a small and convenient target for her friend’s anger.

Cami forced back her initial outrage, standing mutely in the room with her eyes hollow and face blank, her feelings trained to cold indifference. Her folk were very good at that, living in a world where everyone was bigger than they were. Over thousands of years, they’d learned that sometimes the best choice was simply to withdraw and be alone, going silently about your own business and disregarding what the big ones said or did. Behind the new laws prohibiting Men in the Shire, this single reality stood starkly apparent. Old habits and ways died hard. Cami had used that tactic often enough in Gondor. In fact, she was quite good at it. The old walls went clicking back in place.

Ironically, it was not what Pio had said in anger that left its mark. No hobbit had begged Mithadan to go running off to the bandit’s lair or even to come to the Shire. If he and Pio felt a sense of duty that compelled them to make such choices, that was their decision, not her own, or any of the other hobbits who lived nearby.

The part that hurt a little was hearing Pio’s fears about Mithadan. Pio was afraid that her husband might leave and she and her newborn children would never see him again. A justifiable fear given the danger of the situation that Mithadan faced. Yet it was far more than a fear to Cami. It was the central reality of her life. To know that she and Maura had no future, to be certain that her child would never see or know his father. Beside that, Pio’s fears somehow seemed remote.

To cherish meekly whatever time she had left.... No, she could not do that any longer. Maura had been right. As she headed down the corridor and made her silent way towards the back of the Inn, she tried to shake off her own sense of futility, but found it nearly impossible. Cutting across the courtyard, Cami stopped for a moment at the rusted gate, leaning back to stare upward into the black skies of night.

A deep melancholy and sadness gripped her heart that could not wholly be explained by the events of the day, as upsetting as these were. She could see the outline of the trusty Plough, yet its familiarity brought no peace or comfort. The stars stood in their usual position to mark the days of midsummer, that month which the hobbits called Forlithe and the Elves Narie.

There was so little time. She had obediently bowed her head to the dictates of Gandalf and the Valar, but that was before she had brought Rose, Gamba, and Holly into her home. Now there was another child on the way. Everything seemed bleak and overwhelming. Her body shivered, although the night air was hot, and no breeze blew.

She hurried forward, having at last reached a decision. Maura was indeed right. They would leave this place and go off on their own, away from bandits and well-meaning friends who struck out with little warning. They would go quietly to Tukborough where there'd been no talk or sign of bandits, and finally get a well deserved rest. And when it was time for them to leave the Shire, they would go together to whichever age they decided would be the best to make their new home.

Cami instinctively sensed that this was not an idle threat but a real possibility. The Valar could not force them to live apart without their active consent. She was tired of cooperating, tired of being manipulated, and she no longer cared about the consequences of her choice. This whole thing was too hard for her to comprehend. Let them get some Elf or Man or Ainur to repair the damages to the fabric of Time. Surely, they could find someone who wanted to be a hero. She and Maura had no desire to play that role. They only wanted to have a life and family together. That was not such a terrible thing.

Cami ran as fast as she could towards the small burrow near the water's edge, and slipped noiselessly into Maura's arms. With little warning, she burst into tears. He held her softly to his heart. Two sailors adrift on the winds of time without a true port to call their own. The two of them spoke softly to each other, sharing their hopes and plans, and resolved that they would keep their family together when it was time to leave the Shire, whatever anyone else might say. Maura also agreed more reluctantly to Cami's plan that they start out the very next morning for Tukborough as soon as it was light.

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