[Primrose Bolger]

‘Handfasting is a Shire custom . . . Gwenneth.’ Ginger stumbled over the name slightly, hardly daring to believe she was talking to one of the Fair Folk. ‘I’m sure in other parts they’ve grander names, as my Gammer would say, for it. But it’s just a little ceremony where a man and woman give a pledge to each other to stick together . . . husband and goody-wife. Thick and thin and all that sort. And of course there’ll be babies coming along. Nice, chubby cheeked little ones to fill up the house.’ Gwenneth’s pretty brow was puckered a bit and she asked why did they call it ‘handfasting’.

‘Well, now, that’s the ceremony part, isn’t it,’ said Ginger, thinking about the word. ‘You see, their names get put down in the big book where all that gets recorded. But at the ceremony, the person who the couple’s asked to do their handfasting, well he or she comes forth once they make their pledges in front of the big crowd that’ll be gathered and ties their clasped hands together at the wrists . . . binds them together like . . . and they keep ‘em that way til they’ve danced the first dance together. Then the couple gets drinks raised to their new life and the party begins.’ Ginger’s eyes lit up at the prospect of the party as she explained it to Gwenneth. Music and food, drinks and dancing . . . and little lanterns lit in the trees when the sun goes down.

‘There’s lots to be done still,’ she told the Elf. ‘That’s why all us lasses have been sent to help.’ She eyed Gwenneth wondering what sort of work the Fair Folk do. ‘I’m helping out in the garden right now . . . still got the flower beds around the front porch of the Inn to do. That’s where we’ll have the party. Out there under the trees with tables all set up and a little band playing on the porch. It’s all got to look pretty. You could help me with that if you’ve a hand that’s good with flowers and such. Or . . . later on I’m going in to help Cook work on cookies and sweets for the party. Do you want to help there? What sorts of goodies do the Elves have when they are wedded . . . could you make some for Mister Derufin and his lady?’