[piosenniel]

Cook cast a critical eye at the contents of the baskets that lined the counter. Ah! There were her precious vanilla beans – come through from Bree she knew and before that all the way from Harondor. And nothing was better than the lavender from the Floating Log for flavoring cake batter. The lass who made it for them had a deft hand with the concoction. It made the faerie-cakes seem even more otherworldly and light.

Cook chuckled to herself – ‘and a touch of the scent behind the ears had been know to make certain Hobbit lads swoon with delight at the mouth-watering scent.’ She laughed a little louder, remembering the old saying, and shaking her head at the truth of it. ‘The way to a Hobbit lad’s heart is through his stomach.’

Ruby and Buttercup were enlisted to get the new supplies put carefully away. ‘And mind that Maywine!’ Cook called out after them. ‘We’ll want it for the toasts! Don’t shake up the sediment.’

‘Yes, ma’am!’ came the chorused replies, followed by stifled giggling as the two traipsed down the stairs with the bottles carefully in hand.

Cook tsk’d at the impertinence but did not follow up on it. She turned to watch the Hobbit lass who was holding the little girl now, having just given the boy back to Pio in exchange. Pio had crouched down so that the Hobbit . . . now what was her name? . . . Primrose, that was it . . . so that Primrose could get a good look at the both of them.

‘Primrose Bolger,’ she murmured to herself running her list of family trees through her head. ‘Would you be Pearly and Wilcome’s daughter - Girdley Island?’ she asked, raising her voice a little to grab the lass’ attention.