[piosenniel]

‘No, I haven’t come to take you for a ride. Though the thought is quite tempting.’ She offered ‘Falmar an apple she had taken from the kitchen as she passed through. The horse took it from her greedily, rolling back her lips to take it whole with her large teeth. ‘Careful! Or I shall end up nine fingered like Frodo!’ She laughed, withdrawing her hand quickly. Falmar, having made a quick end to the apple, nuzzled at her neck in seeming apology, then dropped her nose to investigate the folds of Pio’s party dress for further treats.

‘Daintily now, you voracious grey-maw!’ Pio offered the horse a second apple and bit into one of her own. She opened the stall door and led ‘Falmar out to the back of the stable. To the patch of grass where she could sit and the horse graze, if she wished.

‘The party is going well, I think. Cami’s old friends have arrived, and a merry, lively bunch they are.’ Pio gathered the skirt of her dress up above her knees and sat down cross-legged on the ground. ‘She seems to be having a good time.’ The horse paused and looked at her, hearing a note of uncertainty in her voice. ‘Ah, she misses him greatly. Her Maura.' Her own thoughts turned to Mithadan, knowing that he would be with her soon, and wishing that Cami also looked forward to the certain return of her heart's desire.

Her reverie was broken by the sound of feet approaching. Hob Hamfast, two mugs of cider in his hands and a plate of fresh, crisp mushrooms. ‘Cook sent me out with these for you. Thought you might be hungry.’ ‘Always!’ she said laughing. ‘I thought you were standing in as outdoor barkeep for Prim?’

He sat down near her, mug in hand, and took a mushroom from the plate as she offered it to him. ‘Most have gone on home, and the keg is empty, anyway. I offered a hand in the kitchen, but Cook has things in order, so I came out here to check on the horses before going home.’ He grinned at her in the last of the evening light. ‘I saw ‘Falmar’s stall empty and thought you were away on her!’ ‘Not likely!’ she returned. ‘Seeing that I should have to face Cami, Rose, and Amaranthas on my return.’

They sat for a while, talking of small, familiar matters, until Hob had finished his cider. He stood, saying he should get home to Minta. ‘You’ll be alright out here then?’ he asked. ‘Yes, I am enjoying the quiet and watching the light in the west fade out to night. Go home and give Minta my greetings!’ He waved to her as he disappeared around the stable, heading for the lane and home.

‘Look, ‘Falmar.’ She motioned with her head toward the west where the last rays of the sun tinged the low lying clouds with crimson. ‘Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.’ What would she give to be seeing this from the deck of the Star.

She leaned forward watching the red deepen and grow darker.

Rose Cotton's Post

Rosie crept softly out behind the stables. Or at least as softly as was possible while dragging Goldilocks with her.

"Come on.” she urged the two year old. ‘Don't you want to see the Elf again?"

Goldilocks wanted to go back to their mother, but Rosie had said she would help take care of her sister and that meant she would have to come see Pio with her.

Rosie first heard the sounds of the horse, then she saw Pio sitting pensively on the grass and looking at the sky where the sun had sunk behind the hills. Rosie hurried over to where the Elf sat.

"Hello Miz. Pio. Why are you out here? Don't you like parties?"

Pio laughed at this and said. "Yes. I love parties but sometimes I just like to be out here by myself."

"Oh." Rosie paused for a moment. "Miz. Pio, Where's the Daddy?" Rosie pointed to the Elf’s belly.
At this Pio looked out to the sky. She was silent for a moment, then she said, "He's coming. He'll be here soon."

"Great! I can't wait to see more Elves."

"Actually. He's not an Elf. He's a Man."

Rosie looked amazed at first then smiled. "Like Lord Aragorn and Lady Arwen."

Their conversation was halted by Goldilocks, who started to whine about wanting to see mommy. Rosie thought she would have to leave Pio and go inside but then she thought of something. "I know what she'll like. A story. Do you know any stories Miz. Pio?"

Pio's Post

‘I have an idea, too, Rosie.’ She stood up and called ‘Falmar to her. ‘Steady, girl.’ she said to the horse, as she picked up Rosie and placed her carefully on ‘Falmar’s back. Goldilocks, who stood grasping on to Pio’s dress, was wide-eyed as the Elf bent down and placed her in front her sister. ‘Rosie, just put your arms on either side of Goldi and both of you hold on the ‘Falmar’s mane. I will lead you about the yard for a while and tell you some stories about little girls I knew some time ago.’

The stars twinkled prettily in the sky for the two little girls as Pio walked and talked to them of the girls she held dear from her travels on the Lonely Star. She mentioned no times or places, but she showed them Wilwarin, the Butterfly, where it hung in the sky and told them of Daisy and how she had seen Mithadan first kiss Piosenniel on the ship under a sky much like this one, and had run to tell Cami and her friend Rose. She spoke of Rose and the sword that Pio had given her, and what a brave young woman she had been in defense of some helpless Hobbits.

‘And both these girls were Hobbit lasses?’ asked Rosie as the horse walked patiently along. ‘Not Elves?’ ‘Hobbit lasses, indeed, the both of them. Just a little older than your sister, Elanor.’ She stopped to untangle Goldi’s fingers from the mane. ‘They were both my dear companions, and fought by my side.’

Pio lifted the two girls from ‘Falmar’s back, and showed them where the lightning bugs were on the wing, flitting in the summer grasses. ‘Catch me one, carefully cup it in your hands and bring it to me. And I will tell you one more story before we go back in.’

Rosie was quick and pursued her quarry with a sure foot and a keen eye. Goldi, was just happy to run amok in the grasses almost as tall as she, laughing wildly in her high little voice when she disappeared beneath their tips and Pio called out, ‘Oh my! Now where has that Goldi gone to?’ Soon they were tired, as Pio had hoped they would be, and Rosie came back, her sister following, a shining bug caught in the prison of her fists.

‘Let it go now.’ And I shall tell you of the dragon and the two little Hobbit girls, hardly older than you that saved the day for Lord Mithadan and me. ‘A dragon!’ said Rosie, her mouth in a little O of surprise. ‘Did it have sharp teeth?’ She let go the bug and leaned against Pio’s arm as they sat on the grass. Goldi had climbed on the Elf’s crossed legs, and lay against her belly, sucking her thumb sleepily, looking at the stars. ‘Sharp teeth?! Yes, I suppose she did. Though it was her wit and tongue that were her sharper weapons.’

‘Angara was a very old dragon when first I met her . . . ‘she began. It was only a shortened story, but it gave Rosie the flavor of those days in unnamed Númenor, the excitement and the adventure. Angara proved the favorite character for her, but once again her eyes widened when she spoke of Coral and Shell, the Hobbit girls who lived by the sea. And how smart they were. How they had helped Angara make the ‘dragon-fire’ pots that Lord Mithadan and Pio used - to keep back the foe who sought to slay their Hobbit friends.

Soon the story was over, and Pio carried the now sleeping Goldi back to the Inn. Rosie walked along quietly beside her, holding her hand. Just as they stepped from the shadow of the yard to the light cast from the windows of the Inn, Pio felt Rosie tug at her hand. She stopped, looking down at the girl, waiting for her to ask her question. ‘The story,’ Rosie began, ‘the one about the dragon and Coral and Shell. That was a true story wasn’t it. Not some old made up tale.’ Pio smiled, considering her answer.

‘Perhaps you could say that is so. Many of the old tales are true. They are just polished by time and set firm in words. Ordinary people with ordinary lives were many of the heroes. They stepped forward when need arose, and faded back to carry on when need was answered.’ She laughed seeing the further question in the Hobbit’s face. ‘Yes, even little girls like you.’

‘Come now. Let us go back to your mother. I am thirsty, are you? We can get some cold cider and then I should speak with her.’

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]