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piosenniel · 02-08-2003, 03:32 AM

19 Lotessë, Year 12 of the Fourth Age

Noontime

‘Falmar delivered her rider safely back to the Inn. Pio dismounted and led her back to the stable for a wipe down and a small nose bag of oats. ‘I promise,’ she said, brushing the horse as it finished the snack, ‘that is the last time you will have to bear me until after the twins are born.’ She picked up the comb and began to work the tangles and grass tassles out of ‘Falmar’s tail. The horse nodded her head vigorously, indicating that she had finished, and Pio removed the feed bag. Picking up the currying brushes, she soon fell into the gentle repetitive rhythm of the strokes.

She let her mind drift as her hands continued the pattern of the brushing from front to back and round to the other side. The babies were resting, the occasional bump of a heel against her rib as they turned in their dreamings. Cami was in the Inn, her mind busy with plans for the small party. She could sense that she was happy, looking forward to the arrival of her old teacher. Mithadan’s thoughts were on the country side about him – enjoying the sights, enjoying the pleasant day, and wondering about . . . Ah! He was hungry. He was wondering whether he should stop for lunch or just ride on.

Stop and eat! Rest a little. she chided him gently. We’ll still be here.

The last part of the grooming was the mane. Carefully combing out the tangles where she had gripped it as they raced through the grasses, she worked from the withers up toward the forelock. Her mind drifted out once again, this time a little further.

A pattern of irritated, tired, and breathless thoughts caught her hands in mid stroke. She dropped the combs, her eyes went wide, and she doubled over in a fit of laughter, nearly losing the contact.

It was Bird! Flying north as fast her jackdaw wings could flap. A string of complaint and invective lost in the wind that streamed behind her.

‘Isn’t it just like that inconsiderate Elf. Goes traipsing off to some far off region, leaving poor Birdie to beat her wings to death trying to get there. Kids’ll probably be already weaned by the time their Auntie arrives! And who’s going to hold old Mith’s hand while he’s pacing the floor waiting for news of his heirs’ arrival? By the One, why couldn’t she be like the normal mother-to-be and stayed in Gondor, near the hubby, to do her nesting!’

Pio could feel the mounting fatigue in her dear companion.

Bird! Rest a while. You are almost here. Mithadan rides north also. I cannot tell how far apart you two are. You will be here in plenty of time to hold his hand!

[ February 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

02-08-2003, 03:32 AM	#17
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	19 Lotessë, Year 12 of the Fourth Age Noontime ‘Falmar delivered her rider safely back to the Inn. Pio dismounted and led her back to the stable for a wipe down and a small nose bag of oats. ‘I promise,’ she said, brushing the horse as it finished the snack, ‘that is the last time you will have to bear me until after the twins are born.’ She picked up the comb and began to work the tangles and grass tassles out of ‘Falmar’s tail. The horse nodded her head vigorously, indicating that she had finished, and Pio removed the feed bag. Picking up the currying brushes, she soon fell into the gentle repetitive rhythm of the strokes. She let her mind drift as her hands continued the pattern of the brushing from front to back and round to the other side. The babies were resting, the occasional bump of a heel against her rib as they turned in their dreamings. Cami was in the Inn, her mind busy with plans for the small party. She could sense that she was happy, looking forward to the arrival of her old teacher. Mithadan’s thoughts were on the country side about him – enjoying the sights, enjoying the pleasant day, and wondering about . . . Ah! He was hungry. He was wondering whether he should stop for lunch or just ride on. Stop and eat! Rest a little. she chided him gently. We’ll still be here. The last part of the grooming was the mane. Carefully combing out the tangles where she had gripped it as they raced through the grasses, she worked from the withers up toward the forelock. Her mind drifted out once again, this time a little further. A pattern of irritated, tired, and breathless thoughts caught her hands in mid stroke. She dropped the combs, her eyes went wide, and she doubled over in a fit of laughter, nearly losing the contact. It was Bird! Flying north as fast her jackdaw wings could flap. A string of complaint and invective lost in the wind that streamed behind her. ‘Isn’t it just like that inconsiderate Elf. Goes traipsing off to some far off region, leaving poor Birdie to beat her wings to death trying to get there. Kids’ll probably be already weaned by the time their Auntie arrives! And who’s going to hold old Mith’s hand while he’s pacing the floor waiting for news of his heirs’ arrival? By the One, why couldn’t she be like the normal mother-to-be and stayed in Gondor, near the hubby, to do her nesting!’ Pio could feel the mounting fatigue in her dear companion. Bird! Rest a while. You are almost here. Mithadan rides north also. I cannot tell how far apart you two are. You will be here in plenty of time to hold his hand! [ February 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.