[piosenniel]

Peony and Gilly had slipped out to the Common Room for a bit to eat. The babies were sleeping and Piosenniel seemed comfortable enough, and more in want of rest than their company. Each now had a pint of the Dragon’s nut brown ale clenched in their fists as they stood looking for a table to join.

The Common Room was buzzing with activity. Free ale and the chance to relax and gossip a bit in these troubled times had drawn the locals in. Many of them had met Miz Pio when she was the Innkeeper, and there were only a few who begrudged her the right to be staying in the Shire to have her babies. More there were, however, who grumbled over the fact the father was here also, and he was one of those trouble causing Men.

Not such a one was Hap Burrfoot, one of the lads from Bywater, and a master brewer. He had liked the Elf from the first, found her a first rate, knowledgeable buyer of his various ales, and had enjoyed his amiable arguments with her on the ideal ratios of ingredients and types of water for making the best ales. He granted her that she had indeed traveled much and tasted widely of the brews the world outside the Shire had to offer. But it was his considered opinion that despite her cultured taste buds, she would find no better ales than the ones she would taste within the Bounds. To his delight, she had agreed with him, and they had spent a week or so, soon after she first came to Bywater, traveling about the country side, taste-testing the Shire’s finest.

Mister Mithadan, when he arrived, had proved as apt a pupil and connoisseur as his wife. And though, he couldn’t leave the Inn much because of the King’s edict, he had been more than willing on several occasions to taste the samples that Hap brought to the Inn. Hap found him an altogether genial fellow with a thoroughly wicked sense of humor.

It was Hap who waved Peony and Gilly to his table and bade them sit with him and his mates. One of the servers was called over, and soon a plate of thick cheese sandwiches and pitcher of ale were being passed round the group. Hap topped off Peony’s ale and passed the plate of sandwiches to Gilly. He looked round the room for any sign of Miz Cami or Cook, then leaned in toward the two women.

‘My friends and I have a little wager going on as to just when Miz Pio’s babies were born. I was wondering if you could shed some light on it.’ Peony laughed aloud and shook her head at him. ‘It’s a friendly wager, Peony. Help us out here.’ He grinned at her, and topped her pint off once more. ‘Tell you what,’ he said, ‘there’s a dance coming up this weekend to celebrate Mid Year. Tell me when the babies arrived, and I promise to escort you there and see to it that you have a grand time.’ He grinned broadly at her once more, settling himself comfortably back in his chair, and waited . . .

Nurumaiel's post

Peony paused and groaned at this tempting offer. Looking a bit sorrowful, she shook her head. "I would love an escort to the dance, but I couldn't possibly tell you."

"And why's that?" Hap demanded.

Peony grinned widely and took a bite of her sandwich, leaning back smugly. "Did either of you guess, 'I don't know, the midwives were probably too busy to look at the time?'"

"You mean you don't know?"

"And that's a fact." She sighed. "I guess I'll have to find a different escort to that dance, eh?"

Pio’s post

His chair legs hit the floor with a thunk. Hap’s companions looked sideways at him and snickered s bit, averting their eyes quickly when he glared at them. One of them, a braver fellow than his friends, clapped Hap on the back, and leaning close whispered to him. ‘Guess you’ll just have to ask her straight out, won’t you?’

Hap’s face took on a decidedly red tinge, and he hid what he could of it behind the mouth of his pint. Taking a hasty swallow, followed by a deep breath to regain his composure, he turned once again to Peony and smiled ingratiatingly at her.

‘I should have guessed you would have been to busy to keep track of time. No matter really. In fact, it keeps the three silver pennies each of us was putting into the pot in our own pockets.’ He took another deep breath and plunged on. ‘In fact, it should be enough for a nice meal at the Inn and a couple of pints before the dance. That is if you’re still willing.’

Hap’s companions busied themselves in the deep study of the bottom of their tankards, while Gilly, a bite of sandwich half chewed in her mouth, looked unabashedly at Peony, wondering what she might answer . . .

Nurumaiel's post

Peony stopped whatever she had been doing, which she couldn't quite remember, and stared wide-eyed at Hap. Then slowly color stole to her cheeks and she looked at the ground. "Well..."

Hap opened his mouth to try to say, "Please, Peony," but no words would come out. He was much too nervous.

After all these years? Peony wondered. What is wrong with me? She looked up and a wide smile came to her face. "Certainly I'll go," she said with a laugh. "I'd be delighted. Thank you, Hap."

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]