[piosenniel]

Estella had just invited Pio to sit down and have something cool to drink, when the young maid servant, Salvia Burrow, who had been cleaning Master Meriadoc’s study came flying into the kitchen. Her face was ruddy from the rush to reach the kitchen, and in her hand she bore a green, leather bound, thick book.

‘Mistress Estella,' she cried all out of breath, ‘he’s gone and left it behind!’ She held aloft the book. Estella blanched. ‘Oh no, Pip will be angry! Merry promised he’d bring it directly back to him after he’d entered a few notes. And Pippin had sent him a message saying that he hoped he could bring it to the dinner party.’

Pio looked from one to the other and wondered why the book was so important. She took it from Salvia’s hand and leafed through it quickly. The title page bore the words: The Tale of Years – Chronology of the Westlands. And it appeared to be the start of a detailed chronicling of the events of the Second, Third, and Fourth Ages. Pippin, Estella explained, was the primary compiler for it, and Merry had been working on putting in some material that he had gathered in Rivendell. ‘He was supposed to have brought the book with him to Bag End,’ Estella continued, ‘so that Pip could discuss the next section with him and compare their notes on it. Now I don’t know when we can get the book back to Great Smials.’

‘It is that important, then?’ Pio handed the book to Estella. ‘To them, it is,’ the Hobbit replied. ‘And I suppose it really will be, at least to some few dry and dusty historians in later ages.’

‘Well, then, if you would like, I will bring it back to Master Merry. No need for Master Pippin ever to know it was forgotten.’ Estella protested that Pio had just gotten there and hadn’t she wanted to stay a few days. ‘I did, at that, but I shall be happy to be of some service to you, should you need it.’ She smiled at Estella. ‘Just give me some lunch and see that my horse is fed and made ready, and I shall ride back to Hobbiton and bring Merry his book.

The meal done, ‘Falmar was brought round, and Pio, her pack filled with thick cheese sandwiches, apples, and a bottle of Mead from the Marish, made her way back to Bywater at a gallop.

It was late night when she arrived. She stabled ‘Falmar, and strode quickly to the kitchen. No one was about when she entered. The filled kettle had been left on the hob and the fire in the fireplace banked for the night. Pio made herself a mug of tea and pulled out the honey jar from the pantry to sweeten it. She made her way back to her rooms and entered quietly.

Her cape she flung onto the couch, her boots kicked off and left in a heap on the floor by her chair. The pack was unceremoniously tossed onto the floor by the desk. She crossed to the window and sat down with a sigh in the chair that faced it. Propping her feet on the sill, she sipped her tea, relaxing after the long ride.

The door to the room opened, and a shaft of light shot into the darkness, illuminating from behind the entering figure. ‘Ah!’ she said. ‘It’s you . . .’

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