[Envinyatar]

‘Yes, ‘ thought Derufin to himself, stifling a laugh with a snort, ‘you just go and fetch him.’ His line of thought drifted off to a dog fetching a favorite toy and he snorted again, choking this time on his muffin.

Cook pounded him on the back as his face turned red. He waved her away after a moment, squeaking out that he was all right and would she get him a cup of water please.

His eyes were tearing by the time he got his voice back, as much from the image that played in his mind of the somewhat lordly Beren, water can in hand, attending on his devoted subjects – carrots, and peas, and corn, and celery . . . and potatoes and turnips and parsnips as well - as from the fact the muffin had stuck in his throat and nearly done him in. He sat down for a moment and got his breath back, his fingers tapping on the table in a calculating manner.

‘Beren,’ he said, winking at Ruby who had drawn near, ‘that’s the one you want, Cook.’

Both Ruby and Buttercup giggled at the mention of his name, and were silenced by a stern look from Cook. Ruby, regaining her courage, spoke up. ‘Yes, and as long as he’s out in the garden – perhaps he could see to the henhouse, too . . .’