|
Cook and Uien
Cook had brought the big cake out of the pantry with the help of Buttercup and placed it carefully on the table in the center of the kitchen. They were both fussing with a number of the sugared violets that had come dislodged along the edge of one of the layers when the door to the kitchen opened. Their backs were to the entrance and there had been so much coming and going that neither looked up from their task. ‘There’s the last of the bread to be sliced and put in baskets . . . over there on the counter near the pantry. The baskets are up above on the shelf. Oh, and you’ll find napkins for liners in the last drawer under that counter.’ Cook supposed it was one of the volunteers come to finish up the last of the baskets of food for the party.
When they heard only a tentative shuffle behind them and a small silvery laugh, Cook and Buttercup looked at one another. Then Buttercup turned toward the door and seeing who had come in, laughed aloud. ‘Look, Cook! That skinny Elf’s come for the party,’ she said, poking Cook in the side.
Cook turned, wiping the frosting from her fingers on her apron, to see who Buttercup meant. Her eyes flew wide at the sight of the figure standing there. ‘Uien!’ she cried, her face beaming. The elderly Hobbit trotted over to the Elf and gave her a tight squeeze about the waist. She stepped back, smiling. ‘Well, looks like he’s been keeping you fed right,’ she said looking Uien up and down. ‘Did Master Falowik come with you?’ she asked, peering around the Elf. ‘He must have . . . Are you hungry? We’ve got plenty of food for the party.’ She offered Uien a chair at the smaller table in the kitchen. ‘Buttercup, you just go fetch him in here. Tell him we’ve food and drink and his fair Elf to boot.’ Cook sat down with a tired oomph! at the table. ‘Tell me lass, what adventures have you two got up to now?’
|