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***Mithadan*** · 04-11-2003, 06:36 PM

Mithadan tiptoed out of his room, taking care to not wake Piosenniel. He could not sleep and decided to make his way to the kitchen to get a snack. As he walked down the steps he muttered to himself. He had been closeted within the Inn for several days now, at the advise of Prim and had begun to chafe at the inactivity. No surprise that he could not sleep. In the past days, he done little more than walk from his room to the common room and back.

He entered the kitchen quietly, carrying a candle. On the counter was a loaf of bread and a bowl of apples. He made a plate for himself and had just turned away when the door opened suddenly and Cook entered bearing a cudgel. "Who's there?" she cried, raising the club menacingly.

"Its just me," answered the Man. "Mithadan. I'm just getting a slice of bread and an apple."

She squinted at him in the dim light, then lowered the cudgel. "Oh, you did give me a turn, what with the goings on," she said.

"What has happened?" asked Mithadan. She related to him what was known of the disappearance of Fosco and the commotion that had arisen. The Man set down the plate and raced back up to his room only to find Piosenniel already gone. Dressing rapidly and buckling on his sword and knives, he returned to the common room to find Piosenniel there sharpening her knives. The few Hobbits there glared at him with distrust.

Sitting down across from his wife, he growled, "It seems that Bird is right. Trouble follows us like a plague..."

*********************************************

Pio's post

Snick . . . snick . . . Pio held up her last long knife and sighted along the edge, looking for nicks or burrs. It felt smooth and sharp as she ran a finger down the side of it.

‘Trouble does seem to have followed us, Mithadan. And I like it not.’ She oiled her stone, then picked up a smaller throwing knife and began to work on it. ‘If it were up to me, I would pack us up – you, and I, and Bird and leave the Shire. But even that, I think would do no good. Despite what Bird thinks, it was only a matter of time that evil would try to insinuate itself once again into the peaceful Shire.’

Pio laid down her knife, and reached for Mithadan’s hand. ‘I detest this position I find myself in. The twins will be born in five days. And I do not begrudge that, in fact I look forward to having them in my arms. But I can do nothing to help Cami and the other Hobbits of the Shire who I have come to know as my friends. My body is unwieldy. I cannot ride to search out the evil creatures who have taken the children. Nor, I think, will I be able to fight very effectively. Again, my body betrays me – I have no grace to move quickly.’ She shook her head and sighed.

‘You know I am an action oriented person. I long to step in and take care of this problem.’ Her eyes flashed in irritation. ‘But I simply cannot. Now I must consider the wellbeing of my children before my own wants.’ Pio picked up her knife again in exasperation and began to work on it. ‘The best I can do, it seems, is to stay here, safe at the Green Dragon, and do what little I can to keep the Inn safe . . . and from what, I am not even sure.’

‘You know,’ she said, tapping the point of the knife on the table as she thought, ‘that is our biggest problem at this point. We have no idea who these Men are or why they are kidnapping the Shire children.’ She rubbed the line of her jaw with her thumb as she thought it out. ‘What are they planning to do with the children? Where are they hiding? They must know the area well to drop so easily, and so thoroughly, from sight when they need to.’

She leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on her steepled fingers, and looked directly at Mithadan. ‘Now that I think about it, even were I able to do it, it would be a difficult task for me to ferret out this information and proceed. What Men are going to let an Elf easily pump them for information?’

Pio took her knife and skewered the apple on Mithadan’s plate. She cut it neatly in two, and offered him half on the palm of her hand. His grey eyes met hers as he reached for the offering.

‘But you, beloved,’ she said quietly, ‘you could do this . . .’

[ April 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

04-11-2003, 06:36 PM	#303
*Mithadan* Spirit of Mist Join Date: Jul 2000 Location: Tol Eressea Posts: 3,325	Mithadan tiptoed out of his room, taking care to not wake Piosenniel. He could not sleep and decided to make his way to the kitchen to get a snack. As he walked down the steps he muttered to himself. He had been closeted within the Inn for several days now, at the advise of Prim and had begun to chafe at the inactivity. No surprise that he could not sleep. In the past days, he done little more than walk from his room to the common room and back. He entered the kitchen quietly, carrying a candle. On the counter was a loaf of bread and a bowl of apples. He made a plate for himself and had just turned away when the door opened suddenly and Cook entered bearing a cudgel. "Who's there?" she cried, raising the club menacingly. "Its just me," answered the Man. "Mithadan. I'm just getting a slice of bread and an apple." She squinted at him in the dim light, then lowered the cudgel. "Oh, you did give me a turn, what with the goings on," she said. "What has happened?" asked Mithadan. She related to him what was known of the disappearance of Fosco and the commotion that had arisen. The Man set down the plate and raced back up to his room only to find Piosenniel already gone. Dressing rapidly and buckling on his sword and knives, he returned to the common room to find Piosenniel there sharpening her knives. The few Hobbits there glared at him with distrust. Sitting down across from his wife, he growled, "It seems that Bird is right. Trouble follows us like a plague..." ******************************************* Pio's post** Snick . . . snick . . . Pio held up her last long knife and sighted along the edge, looking for nicks or burrs. It felt smooth and sharp as she ran a finger down the side of it. ‘Trouble does seem to have followed us, Mithadan. And I like it not.’ She oiled her stone, then picked up a smaller throwing knife and began to work on it. ‘If it were up to me, I would pack us up – you, and I, and Bird and leave the Shire. But even that, I think would do no good. Despite what Bird thinks, it was only a matter of time that evil would try to insinuate itself once again into the peaceful Shire.’ Pio laid down her knife, and reached for Mithadan’s hand. ‘I detest this position I find myself in. The twins will be born in five days. And I do not begrudge that, in fact I look forward to having them in my arms. But I can do nothing to help Cami and the other Hobbits of the Shire who I have come to know as my friends. My body is unwieldy. I cannot ride to search out the evil creatures who have taken the children. Nor, I think, will I be able to fight very effectively. Again, my body betrays me – I have no grace to move quickly.’ She shook her head and sighed. ‘You know I am an action oriented person. I long to step in and take care of this problem.’ Her eyes flashed in irritation. ‘But I simply cannot. Now I must consider the wellbeing of my children before my own wants.’ Pio picked up her knife again in exasperation and began to work on it. ‘The best I can do, it seems, is to stay here, safe at the Green Dragon, and do what little I can to keep the Inn safe . . . and from what, I am not even sure.’ ‘You know,’ she said, tapping the point of the knife on the table as she thought, ‘that is our biggest problem at this point. We have no idea who these Men are or why they are kidnapping the Shire children.’ She rubbed the line of her jaw with her thumb as she thought it out. ‘What are they planning to do with the children? Where are they hiding? They must know the area well to drop so easily, and so thoroughly, from sight when they need to.’ She leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on her steepled fingers, and looked directly at Mithadan. ‘Now that I think about it, even were I able to do it, it would be a difficult task for me to ferret out this information and proceed. What Men are going to let an Elf easily pump them for information?’ Pio took her knife and skewered the apple on Mithadan’s plate. She cut it neatly in two, and offered him half on the palm of her hand. His grey eyes met hers as he reached for the offering. ‘But you, beloved,’ she said quietly, ‘you could do this . . .’ [ April 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Beleriand, Beleriand, the borders of the Elven-land.