[piosenniel]

Amaranthas wanted to know just who would be there. She wasn’t one for surprises. ‘Too old for that.’ she said, fixing her eye on a V of birds making their way across the cloudless sky to the west. ‘I’m happy when I know just what’s going on. And when I’m happy, everyone around me is happy.’

‘I can believe that.’ murmured Pio, chuckling at the statement. ‘Speak up, girl. Don’t mumble.’ Amaranthas' bright black eyes turned full on Pio. ‘I said, Miz Amaranthas, that I can list them for you . . . if that is what you would like.’ She grinned at the old Hobbit, knowing she hadn’t fooled her at all.

Pio went through the invitation list she had seen Cami make out, naming all who would be there. ‘You say they’re bringing their husbands and wives and children, eh?’ Amaranthas, her mind sharp as ever, ticked off the spouses who would be coming and named the children, too. ‘Should be a nice sized crowd. Though not too large that you can’t meet everyone and say a few words.’ The Elf looked askance at her. This social side was not one Amaranthas was noted for and she could not wait to see her in action.

They were nearly at the Inn. Amaranthas was busy going through the list of names one last time. She put her hand on Pio’s arm, a perplexed look on her face. ‘Now, I was sure you said there were three special guests coming to the dinner party.’ She ticked of two names on her fingers. ‘Bilbo. And Frodo. But who’s the third one. I didn’t catch his name.’

Pio blanched at this question. She was hoping to just gloss over it, that Amaranthas would not remember she had said there were three of the special guests. ‘His name.’ said Pio, drawing out the two words to stall for time. Amaranthas looked at her as if she had just suddenly become addle-pated.

‘What’s the matter with you, Pio? You’re acting daft. His name, what is it? And once you’ve mastered that answer, how about telling me where he comes from. Is he from a reputable family, or are there some juicy tidbits I need to know about him.’

A sudden fit of coughing came over the Elf at these last two statements. She giggled then broke into a full fledged laugh, thinking of the Fëanturi and the rest of the Valar. ‘I do not know much about him, Amaranthas. Just his name. Lorien, I believe he calls himself. From somewhere way to the west it's said. I believe his family is one of some repute. Though I have heard there has been some behavior on their part which some would call questionable.’

‘Past the Tower Hills, then?’ pursued the tenacious questioner. ‘And this questionable behavior, might I have heard of it?’ Pio took a deep breath, wishing once again that she had never mentioned a third visitor.

‘Far past the Emyn Beraid, Amaranthas, so I have been told. And as to the other, it happened so long ago, I fear no one recalls it. At any rate, look!’ Pio waved her arm toward the Inn, whose path they had just entered. ‘We are nearly to the Green Dragon.’

The cart pulled up near the front porch of the Inn, and Hob came running out. He gave his hand, assisting Pio to alight, then held the pony still as she helped Amaranthas to the ground. The two women went up the step and Pio held the door as Amaranthas entered the Inn.

The wizened Hobbit looked about her, taking in every detail of the room. Her eyes lit on the nice little fire burning merrily in the grate of the great fireplace and she led Pio over to take a seat with her. ‘Fetch us something to take the dust of the road from our throats before you sit down, won’t you dear?’ sending Pio off to find some chilled wine. Her eyes darted about the room, looking for any sign of the three visitors. Pio, with her spare and evasive details, had piqued her interest on that Lorien fellow. Now where was he?

[ February 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]