It had been a quiet day at the Fields. The party grounds had been cleaned up by the remainder of the guests, and many of them were packing up and on their way home.
Frodo was still snuggled in by the fireplace, and Rose sat patiently by him. The dear old Hobbit kept drifting off midsentence. 'And no wonder!' thought Pio, 'It's been a long hard two weeks for him!'
Pio wandered over and sat down by Frodo , next to Rose. He stirred from is nap and fixed a kindly eye on the elf. Rose ran to get him a hot cuppa tea to warm his bones, and Pio tapped him lightly on the knee and asked for a story or poem, if he pleased, from the old days, one from the Red Book. She liked those tales of adventure and danger -- perhaps too much.
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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