The Green Dragon

[piosenniel]

"Someone, help please! This young lady has collapsed!"

Pio ran down the stairs at the sound of this distressed call. ‘What’s this now?’ she thought to herself. ‘One would think this an inn at the quay in Umbar – rough trade and patrons dropping from the consequences of misadventures.’ She shook her head in wonder. ‘It’s the Shire – things should be slow and peaceful here!’

Her eyes surveyed the newcomers as she reached the bottom of the staircase. So many Elves! ‘I hope Círdan has extra ships anchored in Mithlond for all these westward wanderers.’

A few quick strides brought her to the front entrance of the common room. The few drinkers still left at the tables had stood up to watch as a woman in travel stained garments attempted to bring a prostrate Elf over the doorstep and into the room. Pio knelt down by the young Elf’s side and gently slapped her cheeks trying to draw her back to consciousness.

‘Elanor! Bring me that candle lantern there and one of the quills from behind the bar – the old one, whose point we can’t sharpen anymore.’ Elanor rant to bring her the items, wondering al the while what she would do with them.

Pio singed the feathers of the quill in the candle flame, blowing out the flame when they caught fire. The smoky, reeking smell of burnt feathers wafted up from the quill, and she waved it beneath the young Elf’s nose. Soon a spluttering sound of disgust came from the recumbent figure, and the young Elf reached up and batted the malodorous feather away from her face.
‘Good! You’ve come back to us.’ She motioned to the woman who had called for aid, and between them, they hauled the Elf up and walked her to a chair. Elanor brought food and drink and set it before the recovering Elf.

Pio turned to the woman in the grimed white and thanked her for her help. ‘My name is Piosenniel, or Pio, if you prefer. I’m the Innkeeper here, and tonight, the nursemaid.’ She laughed, shaking off the weariness of the long day. ‘How may I serve you?’