[Envinyatar]

Derufin sat with a look of smiling interest passing into consternation as Vanwe knocked back the wine. He was sure she was not a seasoned drinker, and from the quantity that had already passed her lips, he knew that soon the drink would begin to affect her. He got up from his place at the table and fetched a pitcher of cool water from the kitchen.

The wine bottle was almost empty, and Vanwe reached for it to refill her cup. ‘Allow me,’ said Derufin softly, leaning toward her, his fingers grasping the neck of the bottle. He poured two fingers of wine for her and then filled the glass with water.

‘Excuse me, m’lady. I had forgotten.’ She looked at him, a protest forming on her lips. ‘I had forgotten,’ he said, pouring the last of the wine in Beren’s cup, then raising his half drunk cup to hers, ‘that it is the custom for ladies to drink their wine a little watered. And despite the man’s work you have done so admirably today, you are still a lady.’ He sipped from his cup, his grey eyes challenging hers to gainsay him.

He flagged Buttercup down and asked for food to be brought. ‘Wine on an empty stomach brings regret,’ he mused to himself, remembering such incidents in his own life. The conversation flowed on around him as he eyed the rough looking man from the north. As he was waiting for food to arrive, he invited the sullen fellow to join him at a separate table, picking up two pints of ale from the bar as they passed.

‘Difficult, isn’t it to be around the Halflings. They never seem to trust us, do they? And the Fair Folk, well they’re another breed altogether.’ He leaned back in his chair, drinking the ale, seemingly glad to be in the company of an ordinary man. ‘Name’s Derufin,’ he offered, ‘from Ringló originally.’ He raised his mug to the man, then took another drink . . .