[piosenniel]

Amaranthas had moved away from her seat by the fireplace, and taken one closer to the small window near the west end of the Common Room. From there she could peer out the glass to the Inn’s front steps and see who was about to enter. Her sharp eyes made out a small cloud of dust to the east, a fair way down the road. Too large for a single horse, she thought, and too small for a wagon. Must be someone coming in a small pony cart. ‘Now, I wonder who that might be?’ she murmured to herself as she ticked off the list of those invited in her head.

Pio had come to sit with her, followed shortly by Prim with a bottle of Dorwinion wine, the moisture from the chilled container glistening with a fine sheen of condensation. Pio thanked the Innkeeper and asked if there were anything she needed to do to help before the party started. Prim smiled prettily at her, saying, ‘Just sit back and relax, Mistress Piosenniel, the staff and I have everything in hand.’

‘Now that was a good choice on your part.’ said Amaranthas, watching Pio pour them each a crystal goblet full of the dark red wine. ‘Yes, I thought so, too, Miz Amaranthas. My mind will rest easier knowing the Inn will be well taken care of by her.’ They raised their glasses to each other and took a drink, savoring the cool, rich liquid as it sat on their tongues and ran merrily down their throats to pleasantly warm their bellies.

Amaranthas motioned Pio to come round to her side of the table. ‘What can you see with those Elf eyes of yours.’ she asked, pointing to the nearing cloud of dust. Pio shaded her eyes with her hand and looked hard into the distance. ‘A pony cart. Two people sitting in the front. Judging from the speed they should be here in about twenty minutes or so.’

Amaranthas cackled in delight. ‘I knew it! That’s a Bolger for you. Always arrive early and stay late. Don’t want to miss out on any food, drink or the opportunity to gossip.’

‘A Bolger?’ Pio ran the list of invitations through her head quickly and recalled no Bolger. She raised her brows to the Hobbit, awaiting an explanation.

‘Estella Bolger. And that’s her husband with her. That overly tall Hobbit, one of Frodo’s friends.’ Pio shrugged her shoulders waiting for her to go on. ‘You weren’t listening the last time I was telling you about those Bucklanders who live outside the Shire! Queer folk some of them, living in the wilds, next to that forest.’ Seeing the appropriate look of contrition on the Elf’s face, she smiled in satisfaction. ‘Estella married one of those outlanders. Meriadoc Brandybuck, it was.’

Pio leaned back in her chair. So it was Merry and his wife, Estella, who were to be the early arrivals. She looked forward to meeting him. Sipping at her wine, a sudden memory came to her, and she laughed aloud. It was now Amaranthas’ turn to wonder what the explanation for this outburst might be.

‘Amaranthas,’ said Pio, still chuckling, ‘as I recall, you are a Bolger, aren’t you?’ The venerable Hobbit drew herself up straight in her chair, and rapped her cane on the floor once for emphasis. ‘Of course I am, you little ninny!’ she said good-naturedly. ‘That’s how I know them so well!’

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