[piosenniel]

Pio had seen Cami look her way, and on any other day she would have been glad of the hobbit's company and true-spoken words. But not today.

She was tired, her emotions too near the surface. They had discussed his decison no further that night. He was honor bound to make the choice he had. She understood that, and cherished him for it. She would not use herself, her needs and wants, to turn him from his rightful path. That way was folly and the end of any hope that they might go on together.

Instead, she had lain awake all night, and watched him as he slept, willing her memory to take in each detail - the warmth and strength of his arms, the gentleness of his hands, the taste of his lips, his laugh, his sea-grey eyes . . .

Now the new day had dawned, and she left him to his dreams. She had gone quietly to her room and taken out her sword and her boiled leather vambraces. Beneath her loose tunic she put on her mithril shirt. A pair of tights and her knee high boots completed her attire. Under her arm she carried her helm.

At Andril's door, she had knocked lightly, and spoken with her for a few moments. Andril had promised to gather all the hobbrim together who were going to be bearing weapons in the rescue. They would arm themselves and meet the Elf on deck in an hour. Pio wanted them to drill with her. She would play the part of the guard and they would see how best they might defend against her, to move the hobbits safely from the banks of the river to the water and the safety of the ships.

While she waited, she passed the time drinking a cup of tea, and thought about the two other conversations she wanted to have today. Angara first, she thought, then Ancalimon. Some last pieces of the plan to put in place before the Teleri arrived.

Her tea done, she went up to the deck to wait for the hobbrim. She buckled on her vambraces, and drew her blade. Her mind was restless and she calmed it with her breathing. In a patch of pale morning sun, she went through some warm-up moves, and then the patterns her first teacher had shown her.

Advance, retreat, then side to side, and turn to repeat the moves in endless combinations. Her feet moved lightly and surely, without thought, the blade attacking and then defending against an unseen foe. Her face was grim, her passes lethal as they sliced through the air.

As if from far away, the sounds of voices came to her. She paused, and dropping the point of her blade to the ground, focused on the source. The hobbrim had come up to the deck, and now stood watching her. Their faces were grim as they grasped their spears and staves, reflecting the grimness of hers as she danced with her blade. None came forward to engage her.

She relaxed her stance, and leaned on her blade in a casual manner She smiled, and her laugh broke the tension, a light, silvery sound that eased their fears.

'Come!' she urged them. 'Break up into groups of three and four as defenders. Let two or three others, then, be the ones they are rescuing. I will be the guard who seeks to prevent your success. Then let us see how best you can defend against me and get your charges to the ship.'

She laid her sword to one side, and picked up a slender wooden pole in its place. 'It is a game, of sorts,' she told them, 'But one you must do your best to win.' She picked up the helm from where she had placed it on the deck and secured it on her head.

Pio slashed the pole through the air, getting the feel of it with a few practice strokes. 'Don't worry about the rightness or wrongness of technique. Avoid my blade as best you can, and take me out with any opportunity that arises, in any way you can.'

They were hesitant at first, but she was a patient and insistent teacher. Soon they were well into it, and proved themselves quite capable of the task laid to them. They had a keen sense of how best to work together as a team, overwhelming her attack often with their quick and stealthy movements.

At first, they had feared to touch her with their weapons, but she tapped them hard when she engaged them, and soon they answered back in kind. She smiled, though the blows stung, and cheered them on.

Two hours later, she called a halt to the practice. they were beginning to weary and get sloppy in their approaches to her. 'Let's meet again tomorrow morning.' she told them. 'Practice together this afternoon, if you wish, some of you taking the position of the guards. But, use the dull practice poles only! I would not have you injured before we engage the real foe.'

The late morning's breeze cooled her as she removed her helm and arm guards. 'I should have found some greaves to put on!' she chided herself, as she bent and rubbed the places where blows had met her legs. She was grateful she had put on the mithril shirt. Though, despite its protection, some dull bruisings appeared over her ribs, and she could feel where someone's club had met the small of her back.

Angara called down to her from her perch on the mast. 'Arrogant Elf! Serves you right for thinking yourself capable of taking them all on.'

Pio motioned for her to come down. 'I need to speak with you, Angara. Be sweet, if you will, and come down to me.'

[ October 22, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]