[piosenniel]

‘Or may I simply refill your wine?’ Someone was speaking to her, asking her a question. ‘Pardon, I did not hear you’, she said, shaking herself mentally back to The Green Dragon. Parin repeated herself, and still distracted Pio asked her to bring the mead, a small pitcher of chilled wine, and, yes, the steak-and-kidney pie she had baked – just two plates, for Elfred and Amaranthas.

The necklace set with a piece of green chalcedony, lay in a small heap by Elfred’s hand, as he spoke with Amaranthas. Unthinking, Pio reached for it, wanting somehow to connect with her old friend. The chain and stone were cool against the skin of her hand, and the stone captured the soft light from the room that leaped out again from within. Cradling it between her thumb and first finger, she felt its smoothness. How many times had she seen Cami’s hand drift to it as it hung about her neck, her fingers rubbing the memories and promises to life. A shining hope from Ondolindë, round the neck of a small hobbit, herself the hope of times to come. Tears trembled on the dark lashes of the Elf, and fell unheeded on the table.

Eyes now dry, she looked up to see Amaranthas looking closely at her. ‘You’re that Elf, I’ll wager. The one she said would come looking to find her. Family always thought she was cracked whenever she mentioned that.’ Pio smiled at her, and said nothing. The wizened Hobbit rapped her cane smartly on the floor beside her. ‘I always thought there might be a kernel of truth to that.’ She rattled her cup on the table, drawing Elfred’s attention, and pointed at the mead. ‘She wasn’t crazy, you know. Leastways not any crazier than I am.’ Elfred wisely looked down at his plate and attacked it with focused vigor.

Pio placed the necklace, reluctantly, once again by Elfred. ‘Don’t you worry, Miz Pio.’ said Amaranthas, as if she had read the thoughts in the Elf’s mind. ‘I’ll get over there to see my grand-daughter and get them stories passed along to her. And, life willing, I’ll be around yet to get them same seeds planted in her daughter.’ Her wise old face softened, and she patted the hand of the Elf once again. ‘She won’t be forgotten, not while I’ve got blood running through these dried up old veins.’

Amaranthas raised her cup to Pio, who did the same in turn. Both women drained them at one swallow and slammed them on the table top. Elfred startled at the noise, but kept silent at the perceived agreement. He poured the two another round of mead, taking one for himself.

‘One thing, though, I’ve been wondering ever since I came in here.’ said Amaranthas, leaning forward in the chair, ‘though perhaps it’s dead by now.’ Pio leaned forward, her forehead almost touching that of the Hobbit. ‘And what is that, my dear Amaranthas? I will answer as I can.’

‘It’s about that pet of yours – the one you never named . . . the one she always mentioned in the same breath with you. I was sure you would have it with you if I ever saw you.’ Pio’s brow furrowed. ‘Pet?’

The old Hobbit grinned a toothless grin, and winked knowingly at the Pio. ‘Don’t play coy with me, Elf! You know the one I’m talking about. That flighty one . . . the bird . . .’

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