Taking lunch to the children . . .
Derufin turned his head toward the door to the kitchen as it squeaked slowly open. Two small faces, Hobbit faces, peeked in - their curious eyes looking about the room. ‘Who’s this?’ he asked Cook, getting up from his chair to open the door so that the two stood fully revealed.
An older boy stepped forward, and addressed Cook in a firm voice. ‘Miz Bella sent us, m’am,’ he said. ‘For the soup and such,’ the other boy spoke up.
Cook looked them both over, them motioned Derufin over to where she had gone to ladle soup into a smaller kettle. ‘Mayhap you and Master Anyopâ could take the hot soup and the bowls, and the boys could carry the baskets of bread and the plates of cheese.’
Derufin agreed, and set about loading one of the boys with two baskets of fresh sliced bread, and the other with a small platter of sliced cheese. He held the door open as the two carefully picked their way out of it and down the steps, turning left as they headed toward the schoolroom’s courtyard. Derufin followed, the kettle of hot soup held carefully in one fist by its handle. Anyopâ loaded his pockets with spoons and a few knives and took up a small armful of bowls.
A few short steps later and they had entered the noisy little courtyard, where the children were playing . . .
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‘Many are the strange chances of the world,’ said Mithrandir, ‘and help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the Wise falter.’
– Gandalf in: The Silmarillion, 'Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age'
Last edited by Envinyatar; 04-21-2005 at 02:21 PM.
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