April 17th, 2004

sad ear, sad

Falling Petals, Falling Dreams: Bingo Bolger-Baggins

We had such a nice stroll the other day. I was loath to let a'maelamin walk about with Chaos on the prowl, but that worry aside, it was really just a lovely spring day and we became so carefree.</a> We even set the date for our party--we decided we would commemorate a'maelamin's return here, the 18th of June, when we knew once and for all we were bound to be together. Such a fine day, little did I suspect what new troubles awaited us.

I went to work on my Pocket Realm, modeling the first piece I am assembling on a place that was very dear to me. I just set down the foundations when I became quite weary, and now, experienced enough to know that this was a signal to stop for this bout of Making or over expend myself, I returned to the smial elated with my accomplishment. But I had a visitor, one I had long ago gave up any . . . I don't know--hope, fear, animousity?--about ever seeing. And there he was. Rollo Bolger. My father. And my nemesis, I fear. No, I did not first watch Star Wars at a formative age(I'm a hobbit, remember?); why do you ask? I do not know for sure, but I fear it. For why else would he come to cloud my life at this moment, when my abilities seem to be blossoming, and Iorhael and I have such high hopes, but to thwart me? And us? And all we hope to accomplish in our lives? Just like a'maelamin's Chaos.

I fear it. But I am going to have to deal with it, aren't I? And poor a'maelamin is dragged into all this with me. So I must buck up, for both of us. And we have so much we need to tell our smial mates about.
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