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Old 01-22-2004, 12:24 PM   #74
piosenniel
Desultory Dwimmerlaik
 
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Sting

Gondor

Dinner was done. The last of the dishes cleared away by Pio, with the aid of Gilwen and Cami, soon found themselves scraped clean and soaking in a tub of hot soapy water. ‘Wash or dry?’ asked Pio of the two remaining diners, holding out the sponge in one hand, a towel in the other. Isilmir looked up at Baran, offering him first pick.

‘The towel, I think.’

‘Good choice,’ returned Isilmir, pushing a tall footstool toward the sink. He was followed close on by Cami with a chair from the kitchen table. She was not all that proficient at cleaning plates, but was quite good at squishing the suds through her fingers, a pastime her brother did not mind indulging.

Pio lit the lamp on the kitchen table and pulled it close to where she sat. The scroll that Baran had brought was laid flat on the table in front of her, and her finger followed the lines of script as she re-read them. A dragon in the southlands. Real or Skinchanger, she wondered. As far as she could recall, Bird knew nothing of this . . .

The sound of laughter drew her eyes up from the puddled light on the vellum. Isilmir and Cami were playing a guessing game as they washed the dishes.

‘I’m thinking of something in this room . . .’ Isilmir had declared, a look of bland innocence on his face. ‘Is it animal?’ asked Cami. Isilmir smiled and shook his head ‘no’. ‘Vegetables?’ she asked, her face hopeful as she eyed the bowl of apples nearby on the counter. ‘No,’ returned her brother laughing. ‘And the category is “vegetable” – like plants.’ Cami furrowed her brow in thought, and made a few wild guesses.

Gilwen had come in by now, the few table scraps and crusts of bread left over from dinner devoured by the ravenous flock of chickens in the back yard pen. ‘Mineral, then,’ she piped in, looking smugly at the both of them. ‘And I’m guessing the spoon you’re holding in your hand.’ ‘No and no’, came his swift retort. An argument ensued, with Gilwen declaring he was unfair as he was thinking of nothing. ‘You’re just trying to fool us!’

A low, rumbling chuckle pulled their attention toward Baran. ‘She’s right,’ he said to the boy. ‘Isn’t she? . . . in a way at least . . .’

Cami and Gilwen looked hard at their brother, who stood squirming under their scrutiny; and then looked back expectantly to Baran. ‘Well . . .?’ asked Gilwen, prompting him.

Baran chuckled again, a deep sound that seemed to echo somewhere in the great cave of him. ‘Clever cub!’ he said, winking at Isilmir. He grasped his towel and fanned them briskly. ‘The towel!’ screeched Cami, clapping her hands at having guessed. Her face fell when he shook his head and patted her on the head. ‘Nay, little one . . . it’s “air”.’

Isilmir’s face split into a wide grin. Seeing the look on his twin’s face, he jumped down from the stepping stool and ran for the door. Cries of, ‘You cheated!’ followed him as did his two sisters.

Baran lowered himself onto one of the chairs at the table. It creaked a bit, but being of sturdy build, it held. Pio held the scroll up to him. ‘It is unclear, is it not – whether this dragon is maenwaith or simply a dragon of some sort which associates itself with these olive skinned men.’ She rubbed the back of her neck and frowned. ‘Of course, there is your tale of skinchangers becoming dragons – their leaders, that is.’ An incongruous picture of a silver and black dragon flew through her thoughts, a lopsided crown on her head. Chuffing frantically as her great wings flapped, the dragon could not escape her “followers” . . . Tucking the absurd image away for now, Pio’s attention snapped back to Baran. She’d watched him through dinner, as he interacted with the children and with her, and sensed nothing hidden away . . . perhaps he could be trusted, to a point.

‘Make yourself a mug of tea, if you wish . . . and one for me also, if you please.’ She waved her hand in the direction of the kettle and the small crock that held the tea leaves, as she stood up. ‘Over there is the tea pot, and the mugs, as you know, are in that cupboard. I will be back soon. I just want to find my letters from Bird, and maps I have.’ She shook her head slightly at him before she turned to go. ‘Though I am afraid you may be somewhat disappointed with what I have to offer you . . .

Last edited by piosenniel; 04-07-2004 at 12:17 PM.
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