[Envinyatar]

Derufin waved the offer of pipeweed away. ‘I think I’ll just drown my sorrows in another dish of blackberry tart,’ he explained, pulling the pan of dessert toward him. Andwise tucked his pouch away into one of the pockets of his vest. Sitting back in his chair, he regarded the man with a bemused look as Derufin scooped a large portion of tart into his bowl and poured a generous splash of clotted cream over the top.

‘Alright, I’ll bite,’ asked Andwise. ‘What sorrows are you drowning?’

‘I’ve outfoxed myself, my friend,’ replied Derufin around a mouthful of crust and sweet berries. He waved his spoon in the air as he made his points. ‘I asked Buttercup to see if she could occupy Zimzi for the few days left until the handfasting . . . keep her away from the cottage while the flower beds were got in. Well, Buttercup came through for me. She engaged the help of Cook, and now my sweet Zimzi will not be seen, I’ve been told, until the ceremony. Away, she is . . . getting things done as needs be, or so Cook told me.’ He tapped his spoon irritably on the wooden tabletop. ‘My thinking is that they were just waiting for the opportunity to whisk her away. I’m betting it’s some sort of Halfling custom that they’ve sprung on me!’

A barely muffled giggled from behind him made Derufin spin about in his chair. Both Buttercup and Ruby stood there, shaking their heads at him. ‘Poor man!’ cried Buttercup. ‘He’ll live, though, don’t you think,’ commented Ruby in a decidedly unsympathetic tone. Derufin gave them both his most pitiful appearing face, but they only patted him on the cheek and laughed. ‘Best Cook not find you moping about, you know,’ whispered Buttercup as she whisked his empty dish away from him. ‘Elsewise, she’ll be finding “things” to fill in your time.’ Ruby nodded vigorously in agreement. ‘She’s got a long list to tick off . . .’

Derufin through up his hands in mock surrender. One of the Hobbit lads across the table, Tomlin, who had been taking in the exchange, passed a white handkerchief to Derufin, telling him to wave it. ‘You’re up against insurmountable odds, my friend. When the women want things a certain way, you might as well step back out of the path.’ Derufin grinned, shrugging his shoulders, and nodded in acquiescence as he waved the white handkerchief at the retreating serving maids.

Others of the serving staff had come out and began to clear away the dishes, pitchers of ale and cider and pots of hot tea were left on the table for the diners to enjoy. Pouring himself a mug of cold cider, Derufin leaned forward on his elbows toward Andwise. ‘What was it you asked? Something about do I think the Shire is safe or not.’ He took a sip of his drink, then set the mug carefully I front of him. ‘Safe enough, I think. Though, as with anything as ever has been touched with shadow, it’s best to err on the side of caution.’

He saw, as he finished speaking, Jinniver nodding her head in agreement.