[Envinyatar]

He reached out a hand to pull one long, thin curlicue of wood from her hair. ‘The horses can wait for now, Vanwe. I’ve left them fresh hay, and despite the protestations from Nettle, they can make do with that until we return.’ He looked critically at the new hitching post, running his fingers over the twining dragons, letting them drift across the trail of vines. 'Very nice work!' he said to her. ‘She will like this,’ he murmured to himself, taking in the images appreciatively.

In a moment of pleased expansiveness, he took the Elf’s arm and turned her toward the Inn. Surprised, she allowed the liberty of his touch.

Derufin made a slight bow to her; then, urged her toward the kitchen’s door. ‘May I offer the artist a glass of wine and something to eat?’ he said, his eyes twinkling as he held the door open for her. He leaned in close as he entered behind her. ‘I know the cook here. We can have the table of our choice, I think.’

He pulled out a chair for her, indicating she should be seated. Buttercup, an expression of amusement on her face, as she watched the man maneuver the Elf, came up to the table. ‘And will that be dinner for two?’ she asked, her teeth flashing in a smile at Derufin.

‘Three, actually,’ he replied motioning to Beren who had lagged along behind them. ‘Bring us some stew and bread, if you please . . . with honey, as I recall,’ he said winking at Vanwe. ‘I’ll be back in a moment. I’m just going out to fetch a bottle of the wine Aman laid in last week . . . a Southron offering . . .’