[piosenniel]

Tuilérë, Year 12 of the Fourth Age

The moon shone bright and full this night. The Inn was quiet, the guests asleep, lost in dreams of the promised Spring. It was Tuilérë, the vernal equinox, when Anar and Isil shared the passage of the day’s time as equals.

Pio was awake, her cloak wrapped about her to ward off the still chill air of early Spring. She walked the well trod path along The Water, watching the moon’s reflection as it followed her along the course of the river. At the Bywater Pool, she paused, listening to the current as it rushed over rocks and sand making music in the quiet night. It hushed into silence as it entered the widened banks of the pool, then picked up the refrain again as it flowed out through the narrowed channel of the river on the other side, hurrying on its way to the Brandywine. She came here as often as time would allow. It was soothing to her. The music of the water as it flowed over the stone recalled to her the fountains of her youth in Gondolin.

This night, as she sat listening, another sound came to her - the passage of small, soft feet padding through the undergrowth beneath the trees that ringed the Pool. They paused and she sensed the scrutiny of a keen and curious mind focused on her.

‘Come!’ she called softly. ‘I will do you no harm.’ A dark, musky scent of overwhelming wildness assailed her nose, and she turned her head slowly to watch as a small red fox, sporting a bright pink patch of spiky hair on the top of his head and carrying a small leather pouch slung across his shoulder, came from the shadows of the trees, pausing to regard her. The dark pools of its eyes held her gaze as it approached, its gait light and graceful. Nearing her, he paused and doffed his pouch, rummaging around in it with his nose. He pulled out a much crumpled and travel stained letter. This he took in his mouth and dropped it near her outstretched hand. He retreated a few steps, and sat nearby, waiting expectantly. She picked the envelope up and recognized the faded script. It was addressed:

The Lady Piosenniel
Green Dragon, Bywater, The Shire.

Bird! Pio laughed, a light, silvery sound, and inclined her head to the fox. ‘I thank you, Ruscomir. I am in your debt. You have brought news from a dear friend.’ The fox inclined his head toward her, and faded silently beneath the trees once more.

Pio took the letter from its envelope, reading it carefully by the moon’s light.

********

21 Ringarë,Year 11
"The Water Lily", New Osgiliath, Emyn Arnen

Dearest Piosennial,

Please don’t let the name of the town where I am at mislead you. "New Osgiliath" is nothing more than an inn, (Though a very nice inn) here on the shores of Anduin in North Ithilien. The name changes daily, and the settlers and watermen who pass through here argue constantly as to what the name of this new town should be, or even if a new town will be the end result.

North Ithilien is truly a lovely land, and our King never did a better day’s work than when he bestowed the stewardship of this fiefdom on our good Prince Faramir. Though the majority of the labor is still devoted to the restoration of Minas Anor, hardy bands of people of all races have been striking out to settle land and make their fortunes here. The woodland kin of Lord Legolas have arrived, and while they seem disinclined to actually build permanent dwellings (at least that we with merely human eyes can see), their touch on the land has not gone unnoticed, and the woodlands and fields bloom and thrive.

I even actually got to see Legolas and Gimli! They did stop by to sample the ale here at the "Lily". I can’t say that the Elf Prince was much impressed with the accommodations, but the son of Gloin would not bypass a chance to sample the best - in fact the only - ale in the South Kingdom.

You may be asking yourself why, if I am so close to the city, I have not gone farther and sought out Mithadan. I very much intended to do this, but I ran into some misadventure on the road from Dol Amroth, and have stopped here to lick my wounds and recover before moving on. Please don’t worry, I am truly on the mend and will be fit to travel in another week or so. I had intended to inform Mith of my whereabouts, but found when I arrived here that he had taken the "Star" on a trading expedition and was not in the city. And the innkeeper informs me that you are holing up in the Shire! How in Middle-earth did you wind up there? So I have decided that I will wait until I can travel again, and will surprise your errant husband with my unannounced presence when he returns to the city.

Did you get the letter that I sent you before I left Dol Amroth? I hope you have given much thought to the information I discovered in Harad. The second map and drawings are still safe, of course, though I cannot make heads or tails out of what it all means. I hope you have given much thought to the words spoken by the blind shepherd. I truly think this could be an important lead to finding my kin!

Well, the innkeeper’s wife is scolding me. Seems to think the act of letter writing is far too wearying for someone in such a delicate state as I, and she orders me back to bed.

I have been having the oddest dreams of Cami. Seeing her with Bilbo and Maura, of all things. How I miss our little friend. I think of her often, at the oddest times.

Well, six more months, and the twins will be here. I hope you will not force me to travel clear to the Shire in order to see them. Please write to me care of the Dock Master at Dol Amroth to let me know where you will be. In the meantime, after a quick trip to visit with dear Mithadan, I will be returning again to the warm lands of Far Harad. The people there are a suspicious lot, and always seem to speak in riddles, but I really feel that I am getting closer to discovering the fate of the skinchangers.

And now to bed! And now to bed!

With great affection,

Birdie

P.S. - I hope this fox is reliable. At least his services came cheap.
P.P.S. - Did I tell you I rode on an Oliphaunt?!


*******

‘There is no time to write a return message.’ she thought to herself. ‘It has taken three months for this one to get to me. By the time she receives my reply, the twins will already have been born.’ Pio picked up a small stone and lobbed it into the Pool. The ripples spread out in widening circles. She sighed and shook her head. ‘I know she hates this. She says she has no talent for it. But that simply is not true.’

Pio closed her eyes lightly and let her mind quest southward, seeking her companion.

Auntie Bird! Shire. Three months. The twins. Loendë, Midsummer’s day. Come!

[ February 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]