[piosenniel]

Cook called out to Lithmîrë. She didn’t see him, but she supposed he could be in the bower already and hidden from view. She was going to call out again, but to her right a familiar face popped up from the opening to the root cellar at the side of the groundskeeper’s cottage.

‘Is that you Miz Bunce?’ said Zimzi climbing the last of the steps. She stepped out and pushed a stray hair behind her ear with the back of her hand. ‘I’m just bringing the last of my clay down to the cellar to stay cool and damp.’ She looked curiously at Cook, noting her bonnet was on her head and a laden basket in her hands. ‘Is there something I might do for you?’ She dipped her hands in a bucket of water she’d been using to wet the cloths to go over the buckets of clay. Wiping her hands on her homespun apron she came walking toward the Hobbit with a smile of welcome on her face.

‘Well, dear Zimzi, I’m very glad to see you’ve had a successful day,’ Cook said nodding to the last two buckets of clay waiting to be stored below. ‘I’m just going to meet a new friend . . . an Elvish gardener who’s come to the Inn.’ She nodded toward the bower. ‘We were going to have tea and talk plants and such. Have you seen him by chance?’

Zimzi shook her head ‘no’, saying she had been so intent on getting her clay below that she’d really not paid any attention. ‘And you know Elves,’ the woman chuckled. ‘A troop of them might have traipsed past the cellar as I busied myself, and been so quiet I’d not hear a single footfall.’

‘I’ll just go in and check then,’ said Cook, laughing also. She paused before turning toward the entrance to the leafy bower. ‘There’s plenty to eat and drink here,’ she went on, holding up the basket. ‘Would you like to join us?’

‘Oh, another time I think,’ said Zimzi, brushing at a smear of dirt on her skirt. ‘I’m not really dressed for meeting company and I’ve got supper to get on before Derufin returns from his task you’ve set him to.’ She held up a hand before Cook could invite the couple to a meal at the Inn proper. ‘No, don’t tempt me! I’ve made up my mind to fix a meal here and hopefully he’ll bring his friends, too.’ She turned to pick up the last of the buckets and head for the cellar steps. Calling out over her shoulder she told Cook to feel free to walk about the lovely plantings round the cottage.