[piosenniel]

Aman had just put the axe in Pio’s hands. Black hair intermingled with gold fell across the blade as they looked at the inscription. The Elf listened as her friend moved her finger slowly over last half of the runes.

‘Your father, Balin,’ the Innkeeper said. ‘That’s what I’ve puzzled out,' she said.

Pio ran the end of her finger beneath the first of the runes. ‘See this here,’ she said, pointing at the five symbols that made up the second word. ‘It is a form of endearment. ‘And here . . . this is the name, attached on to it.’ She read the line aloud, in Dwarvish, and then began in the Common Speech.

‘To sweet . . .’ Before she could get the name out her head snapped up to look at the bar. A young woman stood there, scowling, angry. Her hand was at her belt, and the words . . . ‘Or you’ll soon see what it means to face the blade of a Dwarf,’ rang out across the room.

Approaching her, Pio stopped a fair distance away and held the shoulder of axe handle in her left hand, the end knob of it pointing toward the Dwarf.

‘Lis, if I am not mistaken,’ she said clearly and evenly, the fingers of her right hand running across the runes on the blade. ‘We have kept your axe safe for your returning.’ She moved a step closer to the woman at the bar.

‘Daughter of Balin . . . Fundinul uzbad Khazaddúmu . . . most welcome is one of Durin’s folk once again to the Shire . . .’

Pio’s right hand slipped beneath the loose sleeve that fell over her left hand, as if to adjust it. Her fingers loosed the binding on her knife hidden there. ‘Best to be ready in the event this Dwarf does not take kindly to Elves,’ she thought to herself, grey eyes watching closely the movements of the other woman.

[ October 10, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]