[Envinyatar]

Derufin found himself bone-tired. It had been a very long two days. The Inn roof was repaired, and reshingled. And he with two of the workers at the Inn had finished up clearing the rooms under the eaves where Piosenniel and her family would stay when they arrived. Now it was left to Ruby and Buttercup to fuss over the arrangement of the beds and chests of drawers, desk and chairs and tables that Derufin had manhandled up the stairs and sat in the middle of the clean, empty room.

They shooed him out the door, requesting he make one last trip for two rugs - one to lay in the main room where Mistress Pio and her Mister would sleep, and the other smaller, brighter one for the adjoining alcove where the twins would be.

‘Oh! And once you’re done fetching those rugs, Derufin – be a dear and get the rocker from Cook’s room to set by the cradle.’ Ruby had smiled and pushed him onto the landing, urging him on with her feather-duster.

The rugs were easily gotten, though a bit unwieldy. Rolled inside one another, he finally managed to balance them on his shoulder and trudge up the stairs to the top landing.

Buttercup looked up from her making of the bed as he plopped the long bundle on the floor and stretched his tired muscles. ‘The chair, Derufin! No time for dawdling! They’ll be here in just a few days!’

With a weary sigh he made his way back to the kitchen, and knocked on Cook’s door. ‘I’ve come for the rocker,’ he told her as she looked at him expectantly. ‘Right!’ she said brightening, ‘and while you’re at it, take these baby quilts up for the twins, and these pictures that I found in the cellar to cheer up the place. Cook loaded up the chair seat with the extra 'necessaries' and sent him on his way.

He had just entered the Common Room heading for the stairway when he spied Uien sitting at a table spinning a story that had her listeners enthralled. ‘By the One! Have the horses been seen to?!’ he muttered to himself as he passed near.

Outside, it was already dark . . . had they been fed, and new water given them . . . were they locked safe in their stalls . . .

He grunted at his aching muscles and shifted the weight of the bulky rocker. ‘I’ll see to them when I’ve finished here,’ he sighed, hoping beyond hope that the two Hobbits upstairs had no more ‘errands’ for him . . .