What Empty Places are For
chapter eleven
Pippin had told Boromir of all that had passed and of the conversation he'd had with this mysterious woman. Now they sat together, side by side and stared owlishly at her. Neither hobbit nor Man knew what to say, and so they said nothing. This went on for a very long time until Pippin could stand it no longer. He was leaning against Boromir, and Boromir could feel Pippin's distress in the tautness of his body and the occasional tremble, but Pippin was, even now, still a most unquenchable hobbit. Soon his curiosity got the best of him
"Well then, show me!" Pippin's voice burst forth in a spew of words. " Show us! You said you could, and you said I would learn what empty places are for!"
"And what of your Man?" asked the woman.
"I told you, he is not my Man. He's my friend." replied the hobbit.
"Look," the woman said. "Look into the fire. Look and see what you will." the woman answered. "If your Man wishes, he, too, may look. But know this: courage and honesty is needed. Without them, what you see could drive you mad."
Boromir and Pippin looked at each other. They seemed to come to some silent agreement. Pippin took Boromir's hand and they stepped closer to the fire and looked into the flames.
Inside the flames a thick white mist seemed to coalesce. It swirled and whirled and drew in upon itself as though it were alive. It formed into a round shape, and Pippin shuddered, thinking of the Palantir.
There was something in the globe, something familiar, and sounds issued forth. Parth Galen! It was Parth Galen, and orcs were attacking! The two friends could see the scene as though through the eyes of another.
"Do you see?" said the woman. "Many blessing were given you three that day, for none of you would desert the others. Your Man fought like a lion, like a great bear. He fought to save you, you and your kinsman. The two of you could have run away, and he would not have blamed you, yet there you two small folk stood. You would not desert your brother in arms. You three called many blessings upon yourselves that day. You would sacrifice even your lives for the simple love of a friend. Greater were these deeds than any of you can know."
The scene in the fire-globe shifted. Now there was a fair green land, and upon it a very pretty girl with golden hair and green eyes. With her was a young man who strongly resembled Boromir.
"Ruby!" cried Boromir. "That is Ruby, my first wife! Who is that with her?"
"Do you not know your own first-born, Man?" asked the woman.
"But he was no more than a babe!" Boromir exclaimed.
"In your world, yes. You see him now as he truly was and is." The woman said quietly and calmly. "You see him whole and complete, as the Maker made him. They have gone on to that happiest and fairest of places. They were able to get there because you let them go, Man. You held them back too long, but at last they could go, because you released them."
"I… I held them back?" Boromir whispered.
"You did," answered the woman. "They could not rest until you let them go. They left an empty place, where they used to be."
The scene in the fiery globe changed yet again. Now the two friends could see Diamond and Saro, and they cried out in one voice, for their wives huddled together in the dark weeping. With Diamond and Saro were twin girls. Pippin knew these were his own babes, Firiel and Findulas, whom had died so soon after their birth. Like the young man whom had been with Ruby, they were fully grown, with long cinnamon curls and bright green eyes. They, too, were weeping.
"Why do they weep?" Pippin wailed. Tears stood in his eyes. He blinked hard to clear his vision
"What is this darkness?" Boromir said in a voice cracked with grief.
"This is where they must remain, until you let them go." answered the woman. "The grief you two feel holds them in this darkness. You have made them prisoners in the darkness. They can see that far green place, but until you let them go, they must remain where they are. Your first wife and son, Man, were in that same darkness. So was your mother, until your father died. Only then could she leave the darkness behind and go where her soul cried out to go."
"Do you say what I think you are saying?" Boromir asked. "That until I let Ruby and my first-born go, there was no empty place to be filled with... with Saro?"
"I do say this. If you had not let them go, your heart would have never had an empty place for your Saro to fill. That is what empty places are for, to let you know something or someone should go there, to fill the empty place."
"And what of my Diamond?" Pippin asked. "How was there an empty place for her?"
"You mortals are born with empty places," the woman said. "Empty places that long to be filled. Some you fill with things, some you fill with deeds, and some you fill with love. Of all these things, love is the greatest, and fills empty places nothing else can fill. Love is why you would not desert each other, though it could have cost you three your lives. Love is the earth in which all good things grow. You both love your wives greatly…but do you love them enough to let them go? Or will you hold them hostage to your grief?"
The visions in the flames faded until the two friends stared at flames only. They suddenly realized they had embraced one another like frightened children. The woman stared at them. She did not blink. It was an accusatory look.
Boromir knelt beside Pippin and they held each other and wept. The open sores of their hearts ached horribly and bitterly. They both squeezed shut their eyes, heads bowed in sorrow. They did not notice for some time that the temperature had dropped suddenly, and when they did they looked up with tear-stained faces.
The fire was gone.
The woman was gone.
The wolf was gone.
The cave was gone.
They were back in the little shelter they had built from branches to take refuge from the snow and wind. Pippin lay with his back against Boromir. The two of them crawled to the little entrance and pushed it open. The white blanket of snow was flawless but for two sets of footprints…one set made by two feet, the other by four.
To Be Continued