'Now where was that Hobbit when she needed her?' Pio placed a great flagon of ale, a pitcher of water, and a flagon of hearty red wine on a tray and passed through the room, refreshing the empty tankards and cups of the patrons in the common room. tray ehld high above her head, she negotiated the jostling crowd, weaving her way between the clumps of drinkers telling tall tales and embroidered stories to their captive audience.
'Biffo, is it?.' she said, smiling prettily at him just to see him blush, as she topped off his drink and moved on.
On to the table where the newcomer, a woman in rich garment sat, a sword slung on her back. Fresh water for her, and a reminder that the weapon need stay sheathed while she was in the Inn - lest she feel of sting of Pio's knife stay her arm.
The Elf's eyes followed the two who had just exited, and saw them walk their separate ways - a pale stranger and a young Elf. Off on some hidden business of their own she supposed.
She saw the tall dark man take out his instrument and clean the dust from his journey from it. Smiling, she approached him, asking what it is he might wish to drink, and would he play a song for them. He replied in kind:
Quote:
"I see a tighered travler of the first born over across with red hair and bright green eyes ask here if she would like to hear a song of the Qeen of the stars and the light of the two trees."He says to the inn keeper.
"Your a friend of the Elvin folk sir" replies the inn keeper.
"This might be said of me" responds Eruantalon.
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'Ah! Another of the
elendili! Well met! My name is Piosenniel, or Pio, if you prefer. A Telerin - so if you have any of the ancient songs to sing, I would be grateful.' She topped off his ale, and called out to Rie. 'Here is one who would sing for you if you so desire - will you listen to a song or two?'
She moved on to her last stop - the fair haired wanderer's table. Placing her now empty tray on the table, she sat down with him once again, and watched the trailings of dark thoughts weave like mists behind his eyes. He gave a grudging smile as she perused his face, thankful that her questions, for this time at least, seemed done.
He tensed as she reached beneath her apron, but she laughed, a sound like the riffling of a small stream's waters as it rushes over pebbles to join merrily with the sea. And then relaxed as she drew from the pocket of her breeches a leathern pouch, a silvered flask, worked with traceries of gold encircling a scarlet heart within it.
'Elendil, I shall call you, my unnamed Elf-friend. Will you share a taste of Elvendom with me?'
She did not wait for his answer, but poured two drinks of
miruvor in small silvered cups from out the pouch, pushing one of them toward him, the golden liquid catching the light of the lantern.
'To strangers of the road.' she said quietly, holding her cup up to him. 'And to friends of old and those yet to be made . . .'
[ December 29, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]