[piosenniel]

4 Cermië

Cook pinched the bridge of her nose, shut her eyes, and gave a barely audible sigh. Where did I put the willow-bark powder?’ she thought, her hand straying up to rub her temples.

The second pie was turning out no better than the first. The Elf’s thoughts had strayed after a short time to Bree and what Mithadan, Bird, and Rose were doing there. All thoughts of pie making fled as she attempted to contact Bird or Mithadan and found she could not. Which meant in her mind they had made contact and were busy, or something worse had happened. She turned her thoughts away from that dark path, only to find she had added far too many cups of flour to the dough, and the sorry mess was beyond recouping.

Pio sat down in the kitchen chair near her and shrugged up at Cook. ‘I give up! I have been bested by flour and butter. The good folk at Cami’s party will simply have to eat an offering of berries unadorned!’ She could hear Cook muttering in the pantry as she searched for the headache powder, ‘Well, I suppose she can’t muck up plain fruit, too much!’

A soft giggle came from the open door. Pio glanced up through the still settling haze of flour. ‘Get in here, Cami Goodchild, or should I say Cami Took, now. Seems more fitting.’ Cami’s cheeks crimsoned a bit as she stepped forward, and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the messy table-top. ‘Lost a battle, Elf?’ she said, barely stifling another chuckle. Pio tossed a rag to her and pushed the garbage bucket close under the table’s edge.

The flour and macerated dough were scraped from the table top and the last of the tenacious residue thoroughly washed off. Pio threw some tea leaves in a pot and filled it with water, just off the boil. ‘See! I can cook!’ she said smugly. Cami rolled her eyes and said nothing.

Two clean mugs later, a pot of honey, and a plate of the ‘just-in-case’ cookies, the two old friends were sitting happily at the table, sharing what little news they had.

‘I know you would like to hear something about Rose. But I have not been able to contact Mithadan, much less Bird.’ An image of Bird with her fingers stuck in her ears, in hopes of blocking out the Elf, played in her mind for a moment, bringing a smile to her lips. ‘I am relying on no news being good news at this point.’

Cami looked at her doubtfully, behind the matter-of-fact words she heard a brief shadow of doubt. She was about to ask a question to pursue the matter when Gilly arrived with the babies.

‘Oh good! I hoped I would find you here. I promised Sam that I would help Elanor with some of the preparations for the party. You two can handle the twins for a couple of hours. I should be back by then.’ Gilly handed one each to the pair at the table and rushed out the kitchen door to the stable.

Cami’s news was filled mostly with plans for the party. She was and rambled on happily for a long space of time. Pio tried to match her level of enthusiasm to her friend’s, but failed. She listened with half an ear as Cami talked, her thoughts twisting with plans of her own and with worry.

It was some time before she realized that Cami had quit speaking and was sitting across the table from her, an exasperated look on her face.

‘You look as gloomy as Maura today. All worried and distracted from what is going on around you.’ Cami looked closely at her friend. ‘A Shire penny for your real thoughts.’

‘Better – a penny for your thoughts, Cami. Why is Maura so gloomy?’

Once the Elf had turned the conversation, Cami knew it was futile to try to refocus it. She shrugged her shoulders and spoke how intent he was on having her learn the use of weapons. He had pushed her to better herself with bow and knife, and she had done so, reluctantly. She had dug her heels in, though, at the mention of learning to use a sword.

Pio’s eyes brightened at the words ‘learning to use a sword’. Finally, here was a skill she could help with. She topped off her friends cup of tea and pushed the cookies toward her.

‘You know, Cami, both Mithadan and I have urged you to learn the use of a blade other than your knife. Now Maura is urging you to do so. Save me from another round with unforgiving pie crusts, and let us take the babies out for some fresh air while I show you a few basics.’

Cami opened her mouth to speak, but Pio settled the other baby in her arms and ran to find a suitably sized blade. Cook, noting that Pio was well out of earshot, cast a pleading look at Cami.

‘Please! Do take the Elf outside with you. Let her do something she is good at. My flour supply cannot stand another assault today.’ Her eyes gleamed with decision. ‘You occupy her for the rest of the afternoon, and I will make my Gran’s secret recipe for your and Maura’s hand-fasting. Layered leek and wild mushroom casserole with Old Winyards in the sauce.’

‘And some pies?’ asked Cami, driving as hard a bargain as she dared with Cook.

‘Two pies, Miz Cami, and a poppy seed cake with raspberry jam filling to boot.’ Cook looked expectantly at the reluctant Hobbit.

‘I know I’ll regret this. But you’ve got yourself a deal, Vinca Bunce!’ Cami stood, juggling the twins with one arm, and offered Cook her hand.

Pio, her own blade now in a plain leather scabbard strapped to her waist, came through the swinging doors just as the two Hobbits finalized their deal. ‘What is this? What sort of deal have you struck with Cook, Cami?’

A broad smile on her face, and her headache now quite evaporated in the handshake, Cook put her arm round Cami’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. ‘You’ll be pleased to know that Miz Cami has given her full hearted consent to an afternoon of sword practice with you. She sees the “need” for it now, and is eager to begin.’

Cook pushed Cami forward.

[ May 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]