1 Cermië
Amaranthas spent the day with Pio, and she was glad to have her company. She was one of the few visitors whose topics of conversation extended beyond the boundaries of the best way to get twins on a schedule, or when might be the best time to try thin oat gruel on a baby who wants to nurse all the time. And yes, the babies were cute agreed Pio for the hundredth time,
or was it the thousandth she thought smiling blithely, as a well wisher from the Inn cooed over them. But, By the One, they
were only babies, and love them fiercely and completely as she did, her mind could not fathom that people might think they were the boundaries of her world now.
The little ones were in fact asleep at present in the other room, and Gilly had gone in with them - to nap and to reach a hand out now and then, giving the cradle a gentle rock should they fuss.
Pio and Amaranthas sat together out in the Inn yard, near the stable. Hob had placed two comfortable wooden chairs beneath the tall spreading oak, with a small table between them. He kept an eye on the two ladies, shooing away any well-wishers gently but firmly. A plate of thick sliced bread, thin sliced cheese, and great, fat, purpled plums graced the table, compliments of Cook, along with a pot of sweet spice tea.
‘Care for some tea?’ asked Amaranthas, pulling the two mugs close to her, and picking up the pot.
Pio reached out her hand and stayed the pouring of the tea. ‘This is better, I think,’ she said winking at her companion. She pulled out the clear flask with the dark brown liquid in it from the small basket she had had Hob fetch for her. It poured out thick, dark and rich, with a crown of fine, dense creamy foam. ‘A
present from Cami,’ she explained. From some little known, green isle to the northwest of Lindon. ‘Quite good for nursing mothers, or so I have heard,’ she said smiling, as she licked the line of foam from her upper lip.
Amaranthas sniffed the deep, roasted grain smell, and took a swig from her mug. She shook her head and
hmmmph’d once the brew slid down her throat. ‘Wonderful,’ she said, ‘but I must say it tastes suspiciously like a well done ale.’ ‘An exceptionally well brewed ale,’ she said taking another appreciative drink.
In all it was a relaxed afternoon they passed beneath the old tree. Amaranthas had gleaned a lot of information from her neighbors on the status of the investigation into the disappearance of Fosco and the other Shire children and shared all she knew with Pio. In turn, Pio had spoken quietly of Mithadan and Bird’s attempt to find out what they could.
‘I wondered why he wasn’t here’ remarked the Old Hobbit, nodding her head in understanding. ‘I thought it a little queer that a father should go off somewhere just as his first born are due. But I held my tongue, thinking you would tell me in due time.’ She reached over and patted Pio on the hand.
Gilly came out, bringing the fussing and hungry babies to their mother, and all talk of worrisome things was put aside while the babies nursed. It turned instead to lighter talk of the upcoming Mid Year dance, with Gilly chiming in her piece of news that Hap Burrfoot had asked Peony to go with him.
‘About time that young woman found herself a respectable Hobbit to settle down with,’ pronounced Amaranthas. ‘High time she was thinking about a family of her own instead of delivering other women’s babies.’ Pio let the remark drop, knowing the futility of arguing with Amaranthas on the merits of settling down and having a family versus life as a single person.
Soon, Amaranthas felt the need to get back to her own home. She had Hob fetch Thistle and the pony cart, and before leaving extracted the promise from Pio that she would get out tomorrow for some fresh air. ‘Do you good to get out of that room,’ she urged. She turned to Gilly and her eyes brightened. ‘Why don’t you bundle up the babies tomorrow and you and Miz Pio can come up to my place for the afternoon. It’s nice and quiet up there, and no one will bother us.’ She thumped her thick walking stick on the ground as if to emphasize her point.
‘We’ll do that,’ answered Pio, looking forward to getting away from the Inn for a bit. ‘Gilly and I will bring a basket of Cook’s pastries, and you can set the kettle to boiling and make us a pot of your lemon verbena tea.’
Pio bent down and gave her friend a quick hug. Then helped her up to the cart seat and handed her the reins. ‘Tomorrow, then,’ she said, smiling and waving her off.
‘I could use another snack, Gilly. What say we let Cook and Prim hold the babies for a while and we go raid the kitchen!’
[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]