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Old 08-25-2003, 03:52 PM   #11
piosenniel
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Sting

Cook, done with the making of breakfast, and the preparation for lunch now well in hand by her newly found assistant, Esgallhugwen, took off her apron and wandered out to the Common Room. Es, as she called her, her tongue refusing to wrap satisfactorily around the Elven name, had been instructed to get the fresh vegetables from Beren in the garden and make a large pot of soup for lunch. She could get out the cookies in the pantry to place on a large platter as a sweet treat for the diners, and she was to make sure Buttercup sliced up the loaves of fresh honey wheat bread and that the pots of honey and sweet butter were filled and ready.

Aman was busy in the cellar, organizing the wines for the upcoming party. ‘Less than a week now!’ she said to herself, smiling. Piosenniel and the little ones and her Mister would be here. Cook shivered in anticipation of seeing her old friend.

She could see Ruby making the rounds of the tables with ale and cider. Here and there people were drinking tea, and some, strangely enough, were just enjoying a glass of cool well water. ‘No accounting for tastes,’ she reminded herself, pulling a foaming pint of dark stout for herself.

One of the patrons, Falowik, she thought, trying to recall the name she had heard from Ruby and Buttercup’s gossip was standing at the end of the bar. She nodded to him and walked toward him. ‘Pockets all flat as griddle-cakes! Not got a penny to his name, I’ll bet,’ she thought, keeping her face bland as she approached him. ‘Looks fit enough, though. Might be able to give Derufin some help with the roof, I’ll bet. Don’t want it leaking on Mistress Piosenniel and her wee ones.’

‘Vinca Bunce,’ she said as she drew near him. ‘Or Cook, as I’m more likely to be called. You look like you had some question need answering. Can I help you?’

She stopped short, not wanting to crowd in on him, knowing most Big Folk were wary of any who came too close. She sipped her ale, and waited patiently for his response.
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