Even the driving force of the first spring rains could not dampen the spirit of the day at Torech Besruth, for the Household of Bar-en-Acharn had planned a joyful gathering to celebrate the upcoming birth of Bainiel, the daughter of Cutch and Seregrían. Outside the stately manor, Ingrasion and Catrena were sheltering from the rains in the great stone gazebo, watching the clouds passing low overhead. As they spoke, a red-clad horse walked up the lane, Seregrían riding side-saddle, before dismounting clumsily in the courtyard.
“Seregrían, hello,” Catrena called, “come over with us and get dry!”
“Happy to see you Seregrían,” Ingrasion said.
“Suilaid, dear ones! Shall we go inside, and out of this weather?” Seregrían suggested.
"So happy for today's occasion!” Catrena said as the three crossed the courtyard to enter the manor. “But be warned, I have never been in a baby shower party before."
“Neither have I,” Seregrían laughed, “so I am watching this with open eyes. I have no idea what to expect - but if our Applecider is in any way involved...” and all three laughed as they entered the Gallery, hanging up wet cloaks by a growing stack of parcels and presents.
All looked up at a cry from the hallway, “'Dah-liiiiinnngs!!!”as Applecider burst into the room, all smiles and laughter. “Come to th’ Hall, then; we gots coffee, tea, and treats ready ter warm up skinny Elfs an’ sundry!” As they proceeded into the Grand Hall, Seregrían was struck that everyone there was wearing some shade of purple – the wedding colors of she and Cutch!
Others had arrived and were already engaged in animated conversation. Among the company were two hobbits, Royzenberry and a newcomer to The Lair, her mother Lemonberry Goldflower, who was sitting in a chair near the hearth warming her feet. And to Seregrían’s delight, standing with Royzenberry was her sister, Hartagil. Royzenberry was wearing a costume, dressed as a gift-wrapped present.
“It appears I am familiar with a pretty box,” Hartagil laughed. “What other wonders shall I see today?”
“How about family, gwathel nin?” Seregrían called, and the two women rushed together in a hug. “Hartagil! I had no idea you would be here!”
“The hour was late, but I managed to get Catrena’s letter in time,” Hartagil said.
“Same with me,” Royzenberry said. “Her letter did say to bring a present – how did I do?” She turned on the spot to show off the brightly colored box costume she wore.
“Aye, she done graced us with her ‘presents’, if ye take my meanin’,” Applecider quipped from the kitchen, setting all laughing.
Catrena spoke to Lemonberry by the fire. “Mistress Lemonberry, are you feeling well?”
“I’m just fine, dearie,” Lemonberry said, “it’s just me legs killin’ me, this weather and all. But this hearth is so nice and cozy, fancy such a thing in a grand hall like this!”
Applecider had dashed back to the kitchen, returning with a tray piled with pastries fresh from the fire. “Welp, I cannae say as I envies Mister Crane his hike back in the rain,” she said. “'Til then, I knows yer supposed to 'ave cupcakes at these events; but given the appetites involved, I made a whole pile of spice cake!”
“I should have chosen a more loose-fitting dress, then!” Hartagil laughed.
“Come, Seregrían, let’s get you and the baby seated,” Royzenberry said as she offered a hand to the mother-to-be.
“Thank you, Berry, dear,” Seregrían said, then she winced, bending in discomfort. “I think that's a wise move…”
“Oi, sprout! No kicking yer mam,” Applecider called from the table where she was laying out mugs and a carafe of hot coffee. Royzenberry gave the elf a worried look as she helped Seregrían to her chair.
“It... it's nothing,” Seregrían said, “recently she's been, well, fractious. I am beginning to believe she is growing impatient. And her demands are more bizarre; I am so hungry for sweet foods.''
The company sat and began feasting together: Applecider and the other hobbits had laid out a spread of dainties worthy of any Shire picnic: spice cakes, several different fruits, coffee and tea with cream and honey. Several people round the table smiled as Seregrían began rolling strawberries in sugar and popping them into her mouth one by one, washing them down with coffee (four sugars please, Berry, there’s a good lass!).
“And just when you thought the lady of the house could not be any sweeter,” Hartagil said smiling.
Catrena looked to Seregrían. “How long now, until the expected time, do you think?” she asked.
“Aye, what news?” Applecider asked.
“I have been speaking to midwives, both of Elves and Men,” Seregrían said, "and it depends on whom you ask. The Elves still maintain September - the men-folk disagree, they claim June…”
“Well, ‘tis a pity Mister Eärendil an' Missus Elwing dinnae leave any notes,” Applecider said, “’bout halfsies at any rate.”
“And who are Eärendil and Elwing? Some associates of ours?” Catrena asked.
“Nae, they be Mister Halros's captain's lady-friend Missie Arwen's gaffer's Mam & Da,” Applecider said by way of explanation, ''bout the last known halfie-halfers.”
This set Hartagil giggling, “I see someone has been taking Elf history lessons!” The other elves present laughed as well.
“Ah, half-elves! Now I see,” Catrena said, “and an example for our Lady and her beloved!”
While the talk swirled around the table, Royzenberry added a touch of her own making to the fare. Not only had she prepared more of her notoriously sweet berryblast pies, but she also offered to the elves coffee with berries floating on the top.
“Berries?!” Hartagil said. “This is novel, thank you, I shall try this.”
“Seregrían, have you had any word if Lancogard will be here today?” Royzenberry asked.
“I had Lance's owl arrive last evening,” Seregrían said. “He writes of a 'case' of his, in the Southfarthing, and he cannot break away.”
“Ach. Life of a Bounder sometimes,” Applecider agreed.
“He was most dramatic about it,“ Seregrían went on, “'The Harrowing Case of the Hideous Harfoot', he called it - though what that means, is anyone's guess.”
Applecider groaned, “Bullroarer's buttered biscuits, not them again…”
“It sounds like we in for quite the tale when he gets back,” Hartagil said.
It was at that moment that Kortheod and his companion Plusheila entered the hall, greeted warmly and gladly by the company; but none more gladly than Cutch, for Seregrían struggled to her feet and rushed to her husband’s arms.
“Maer aure, melethel nin…” she almost purred to Cutch.
“Maer aure, mell bereth,” Cutch murmured in reply.
“It appears I did not receive the word - purple once more, beloved?”
“Purple forever, melon nin.”
“Just as soon as you two love-doves want to join us?” Applecider called out. “Sit down, you lot! We gots coffee an' cake goin’ -- though at this rate, we'll be movin' on to stronger stuff soon.” Everyone laughed and took their places at table, Cutch helping Seregrían to her seat. Helping herself to more coffee, Seregrían tasted it and made a face.
“One thing puzzles is, why is it called a ‘baby shower’? How is a shower involved?” Catrena asked curiously.
“’Cuz you showers the Mam with presents!” Applecider said. “Now, the theme be All Things Cutch an' Sergie, an' their general attitude be Livin' Well - so, thar be what we aims to do!”
“Well, given the rains outside, I guess it fits well,” Catrena offered.
“Erm… someone pass me the sugar?” Seregrían said crossly.
“Having coffee with your sugar, sister?” Hartagil quipped. Seregrían glared at Hartagil before putting a spoonful of sugar and, after a moment, simply dumped the contents of the bowl into her mug and stirred it like a cauldron. Then, to the humorous shock of everyone, she seized on a slice of bread and smeared the coffee-soaked sugar onto the bread and began munching away, sighing contentedly at last.
Applecider laughed at the sight. “Oi, little bun, we gots to work on your diet, once you make it out here with th’ rest of us!”
