Primrose was just finishing the last of the tankards, wiping the last drop of rinsewater from the side of it. She lined it up with its mates, like a row of little soldiers ready for duty.
Another guest had come in. An Elf, trying to hide herself, she noted. She laughed out loud. This is the Shire - her very height and the boots on her feet marked her as an Elf.
'Let's see now.' she said to herself, sorting through decanters behind the bar counter. 'Mistress Piosenniel keeps something here for those Elves on their way West to the Grey Havens.' She pulled out the silver flask and poured a small dram of silvery, glistening iquid into a tiny crystal glass.
'Primrose, at your service, m'Lady.' she said to the unusually green eyed Elf. 'Something from the Innkeeper, who has retired for the evening, compliments of the House.'
She set the small glass of miruvor in front of the hooded Elf. 'Now is there anything further you require?'
[ February 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
__________________
Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
|