[piosenniel]

Cook laughed, causing another wince from Derufin. ‘Aye, he’ll live alright. Willow bark’ll dull the headache he’s got. Fool’s got himself drunk, he has. Just like a man to go and do that on the eve of his handfasting.’ She motioned for Sakal to bring over the plate of eggs and toast she’d had him fetch. ‘Get that into him along with another mug of tea. Put him to rest in my bedroom. We’ll get him cleaned up after he’s had some sleep.’

Once the plate was empty of eggs, the last bit wiped up with a bit of toast, Derufin smiled up wanly at Cook, putting on his most contrite face. ‘Don’t go making moon-eyes at me , mister,’ she told him, pointing toward her room. ‘You’ll not be disappointing Mistress Zimzi today . . . and people will be eating the cake I’ve made when the ceremony’s done . . . that’s our plan and I mean to see it through.’ She watched the two brothers steady Derufin as he made his way to her room. ‘And don’t you be getting my quilt dirty . . . you feel the need to heave, use the wastebasket by the side of the bed.’

Ginger's eyes were wide as Cook upbraided Derufin. 'Flaming fool!' Cook muttered, turning back to the large kettle of soup she'd started for lunch. 'Ginger!' The Hobbit lass looked at her in apprehension. 'Everything will be fine. Mister bunce used to get himself quite pickled at times. No need to go upsetting Mistress Zimzsi with what's happened. She'll be having her own problems to deal with without taking on this. Her Mister will be fine . . . we'll see to that. Let's finish up the platters of ham and cheeses. And make sure the rolls I baked are put out in those baskets over there.'

At the small table in the corner of the kitchen, sat Snaveling quietly sipping a last mug of tea. Cook motioned to him with her wooden stirring spoon. 'And what about you, Master Snaveling? We're having a party today . . . you're a bit ragged looking yourself.' And I'll not ask why, though I have my own thoughts on that matter! 'How about you get yourself cleaned up a bit,' she said, noting the straw stuck here and there to his clothes. 'There's a trunk of Big Folk clothes in the upper attic room. Left here by some what decided they needed to get away quick . . . before the final bill was tallied and paid for. If you want, Ruby can show you the way, bring you some water and towels for washing, too.'

Ruby looked over at the man, awaiting his decision.

Cook had already turned back to the soup, adding a small handfull of salt and a few pinches of ground pepper. 'Look better when you finally talk to Miz Aman, too,' she muttered to herself. 'Flaming fools . . . the lot of them!'