[piosenniel]

Pio had spent a pleasant evening yesterday at Amaranthas’ house. The food had been simple, the fire small and cozy, and the bottle of wine she had brought soon found itself on the hob being turned into mulled wine with the addition of a few secret, and jealously guarded ingredients. Amaranthas was not one to stand on ceremony, she had the ‘young sprout’ of an Elf in to the kitchen and let her help with the shelling of the winter peas and the fixing up of a tasty bit of fresh trout and some taters.

‘The great grandson brought this by today.’ She said holding up the silvery fish by the tail and expertly filleting it, while Pio sliced the taters and fried them up, then set the peas to the side of the stove, to steam tender and crisp. ‘Here!’ Let me keep watch over those taters and peas, while you get to crisping these up in a little oil.’ She pointed to the four small fillet sections on the sideboard. ‘Dredge ‘em in a little flour. The oil’s hot in the skillet, shouldn’t take too long.’

The dinner was delicious, eaten at the small parquet table which served both as a dining table and a place for Amaranthas to set her collection of antique wine bottles. ‘Drank most of the contents myself – back in my younger days!’

Pio smiled and commented on what a good ccok Amaranthas was, a smile playing about her lips. ‘Now don’t go getting uppity on me, Miss Pio.’ cackled the elderly Hobbit. ‘I’ve done my share of cooking. I figured if I supply the ingredients you young pups can fix them up.’ Pio nodded and took a swallow of sweet tea. No sense in irritating the old dear with the fact that she was lifetimes older than she.

Once done, they did up the few dishes and retired to the living room, seating themselves in two comfortable chairs by the fire. Pio stretched out her legs, having taken off her boots, and let the flames toast her toes.

‘Feet tend to swell up, don’t they.’ commented the Hobbit, her gaze taking in the size of the Elf’s belly. ‘How much longer til the baby, dear?’ Not long was what she was thinking to herself, by the size of her. She gasped when Pio told her it would be another six months, and that the baby would be twins.

‘Six months!’ Amaranthas put her hand on the Elf gauging the size of the babies. ‘Those must be big babies, the both of them, for you to be only three months along!’ Pio laughed delightedly, moving the Hobbit’s hand to where one of them lay kicking against her side. ‘No, they are normal sized as far as I can tell. Elves carry their children for a full year before giving birth, so I am half-way there.’

‘Well, isn’t that amazing!’ said the Hobbit, patting the Elf gently. ‘I guess you’re never too old to learn new things, eh?’ She reached for the mulled wine and poured them each a generous portion.

The evening passed in pleasant conversation. No topic or person in the Shire was considered off limits for Amaranthas dissection. Pio settled in to her chair and let her talk on, throwing a comment in now and then, though she scarcely knew who or what was being talked about. ‘What a bright, sharp mind.’ she thought to herself. ‘I should come more often to visit her.’

Amaranthas’ rapier wit now fell on the Baggins family. Pio sat up as she heard the mention of familiar names and tried to follow along as best she could. Cami had gone over this history innumerable times, but always in tones of great respect. Amaranthas, Pio was finding out, had a totally different opinion concerning them.

‘Not too bad, the lot of them, came the final verdict by Amaranthas as she poured herself another cup of wine. ‘Down to earth sorts, except for those ones that think too highly of themselves. Good party throwers, generous with the wine and ale.’ She fixed Pio with a beady eye. ‘The strange ones though are those ones with the Tookish blood – wanderers and daydreamers. Too eccentric by Shire standards.’ She cackled wickedly, expressing her opinion of such standards. ‘My younger days,’ she said, staring into the fire, ‘I’d have given my eye teeth to be off wandering with one of them.’

It was getting late, and Pio excused herself, saying she should get back to the Inn and let Amaranthas take her rest. ‘You’ll do nothing of the sort, Miss Pio.’ came the Hobbit’s firm voice. ‘I was expecting you would stay over.’ She peeked through the drawn curtain. ‘It’s too dark for you to be going back by yourself. And as for my rest, I’m old – I’ve had plenty of rest in my time. Long as I’ve got such good company, I intend to stay awake and enjoy it.’

Pio and she sat up late, making small talk and just enjoying each others company. When Amaranthas began to nod off, Pio gently escorted her to her room, and then found the way to hers. The bed was freshly made up and surprisingly comfortable, though the Elf had to curl up a bit to fit in it.

Her last thought, before sleep claimed her, was that tomorrow she would see if she could persuade Amaranthas to come back to Cami’s party at the Inn. It would be interesting to see the elderly Hobbit take the measure of the guests there.