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It was pleasant here in the Inn’s kitchen. And a welcome relief to rest for a bit before the task of the firewood was begun again. Mugs of sweet tea, strong tea. The crunch of cookies against the teeth, their sweetness pleasing the tongue. Derufin’s deep laugh and the merry glint in his eye as he listened to Cook.
Cook, for her part, seemed a wellspring of stories. The brandy had loosed her tongue. And once they had gotten passed their shocked amazement, both Ginger and Buttercup egged her on with questions and declarations of disbelief.
A chain of plain, flat gold links he thought would enclose this scene. Each stamped with the delicate flowers of the countryside, the tall grasses weaving from one to another. A simple necklace dipping down to grace the collar bone, winking out from beneath the collar of a tunic as the light catches it.
More cookies were brought out, along with a plate of fresh cut bread and cheese. Derufin poured Cook a cup of hot tea, laced with honey this time, as he had deftly put the brandy away on the sideboard.
Yes, it is pleasant here in the kitchen, thought Anyopâ. A bit of home . . .
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But Huan the hound was true of heart, and the love of Lúthien had fallen upon him in the first hour of their meeting; and he grieved at her captivity . . .
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