[Envinyatar]

Derufin was nearly out the door when he heard the familiar voice call out his name. He turned, as did Zimzi, and grinned a bit sheepishly at the Innkeeper. Then, much to her surprise, the smiling man moved quickly toward her and lifting her up in a bearish hug, swung her wildly about about, her feet flying. Her face a bit red from this abrupt show of affection she gasped out for him to put her down.

Zimzi shook her head at the exuberant gesture and put her arm round Aman’s shoulders as her feet settled onto the floor of the kitchen. A bit wobbly from the spin, Aman was glad to be guided into a chair near her by the kitchen table. ‘We’re quite happy to be back at last,’ the young woman said. ‘As you can well see,’ she went on, giving a look of mock sternness to Derufin. ‘You could get her a little something to drink, I think,’ Zimzi said softening her look a little.

‘I think, really, that we should all have something to drink,’ chuckled Derufin, leaning down to whisper something in Buttercup’s ear. The Hobbit ran down the stairs to the cellar, and returned quickly with a very old and dusty bottle of Old Winyards. Ruby pulled the good crystal stemware from the locked cupboard and polished them quickly with the clean side of her apron.

Cook had by this time poked her nose out from the pantry, and spying Aman had lavished almost as fierce a hug on her as had Derufin. ‘Oh, my dear girl,’ she said, sitting in a chair near her. ‘You have no idea how happy I am to be back in Bywater. And sitting here in my own kitchen.’ She leaned near the Innkeeper. ‘I had heard, you know, that there had been a disaster take place. But I have to say, it looks just as I expected to find it on my return – quite well taken care of and all in order!’

POP!

Derufin had pulled the cork from the bottle, drawing all their attention now to him, as he poured a generous portion for each, and asked Zimzi to pass them round. He raised his glass, once everyone had theirs in hand, saying, ‘Here’s to The Green Dragon! Long may she hold sway in the heart of the Shire!’ He turned then to Zimzi and saluted her with a nod of his head. ‘And here’s to my precious jewel, Zimziran,’ he went on in a softer voice. ‘Long may she hold sway in my heart.’

Zimzi smiled widely at his words and gave him a wink and a toast of her own. ‘May we grow old on one pillow, my dear.’

A round was drunk and another poured, as Buttercup leaned in toward the slightly bewildered Aman. ‘You must have guessed by now . . . they’re going to be handfasted very soon . . . this week in fact, as soon as her parents and brothers arrive . . .