[piosenniel]

By late afternoon, the staff at the Inn had finished all the preparations for the party that was to take place that night. Prim, much to the grumbling of the afternoon customers, closed the Inn to business, and she and her ‘girls’ cleaned the Common Room from stem to stern. Hob was directed to recruit a few suitable lads, and they set up more tables on the greensward at the front of the Inn.

Hob scratched his head when Buttercup relayed the message to him on how many tables and chairs were to be set up. ‘I thought Mistress Piosenniel said these naming affairs were small – just limited to announcing them to the families on either side.’ He looked at the goings on in the Inn and considered the number of tables he had been instructed to set up in the yard. ‘Looks to me as if the whole of Hobbiton and Bywater are coming tonight.’

‘Well now, it’s not like Miz Pio and her Mister have any family here, is it?’ said Cook, who had come out with an armful of tablecloths for the buffet tables. ‘What sort of pitiful party would that be with them and Miz Cami and Miz Bird. They’re all in some sort of a funk as it is. It would be dreadful!’ She handed the cloths to Buttercup, instructing her which tables they were to be put on. ‘And besides,’ she continued, ‘the twins were born in the Inn and we’ve all grown fond of Miz Pio and Mister Mithadan. And didn’t they help us out when the children went missing?’ Hob and Buttercup nodded their heads in unison. ‘Well, then, we’ll all be their family for tonight, won’t we?’

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amaranthas was the first guest to arrive, and to be honest she had bullied the young lad set at the gate by Hob early in the afternoon into opening up for her. Caught between two sets of instructions, he hopped from foot to foot as he explained that he was to allow no one in. But Amaranthas had insisted, and had gone so far as to get down from her cart and come face to face with him. The prospect of going head to head with the Dragon persuaded him that he should open the gate for her, and he went so far as to help her up to her cart and lead Thistle through.

Later on in the evening, the door to the Inn was opened wide and the great brass dragon doorstop, now turned green from age, held it in place. The windows were all opened, and the gate at the end of the path now bore a sign saying “Welcome One and All”. Hobbits and their families streamed up the road – on foot, on pony, and by cart, laughing, and singing and jostling one another a good natured way, eager for the chance to celebrate. And it didn’t matter, really, what the purpose of the event was, it had been dark times for the Shire for a while, and now they intended to enjoy the return to more peaceful, pleasant times.

The tables were laden with platters of food, and one whole table had been devoted to sweets, cookies of all sorts mostly. And in the center several great pyramids of short cake rounds, dusted with sugar, surrounding a large bowl filled with sliced strawberries. Several kegs of ale and cider had been set up and tapped in the yard and a table for wine stood near them.

On the verandah a small band was playing music – two fiddlers, a fife, and one energetic young fellow on the concertina. Between plates of food, and spurred on by the free-flowing spirits, there were many rousing rounds of dance, especially among the young lads who flashed smiles at the lasses as they showed off their fancy steps.

Mithadan had gone out to greet the guests as they arrived. And looking much better than he had on his return from Bree, many commented. Many came up to him as he strolled about the yard, thanking him for what he’d done. Even Halfred, in his roundabout way, expressed his thanks, though if truth been known, Millefoil’s hand was hard on his back as she pushed him forward and nudged his words along. Mithadan was gracious, and returned the thanks in kind to the Shiriff for his assistance, all the while flashing a toothy grin at the woman behind him. Others came up to shake his hand, and congratulate him on becoming a family man now. He smiled and thanked them, and ducked their questions when they asked if there were more in the planning.

Pio came out once the party was well under way, bring the twins with her, one to each arm. She ate and danced and spoke with her numerous well-wishers, and showed the babies off to all who asked. Her face was composed, and as fair as ever, but there were dark smudges beneath her eyes if one looked closely, her lids were red rimmed from the tears that had escaped them, and her smile did not flash out as often as it was wont to do, nor was there laughter. She, too, was gracious, in her own way, but some remarked she seemed reserved – that now there seemed a barrier between her and the events that swirled around her.

[ August 04, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]