[Envinyatar]

‘I was just wondering if you still needed a roomate, of sorts. It'd be a slight cheaper then renting an room at the Inn, if I'm to settle here. So, is the offer so open?’ Beren leaned his shoulder against the shed, waiting for Derufin's response.

‘The offer is open. And for the most part, you may move in at any time.’ He paused and thought for a moment. ‘It’s almost time for the evening meal. Let me just go clear out what little remains of Eodwine’s possessions. Then after supper is done, bring some fresh linens from the Inn for the bed and your gear, and you’ll be set.’ He clasped Beren on the shoulder. ‘Good to have you on board at the Inn!’ A few more casual remarks passed between them and Derufin turned back toward the stable.

The room was orderly. Eodwine had been an orderly person. Derufin removed a few pieces of clothing from the large wooden chest at the end of the bed, leaving it empty for Beren’s use. No other sign of the other man’s occupation of the room remained. Derufin stripped the bed – leaving the thick woolen blanket and the quilt on the top of the chest. He pushed back the curtains and opened the window to the right of the bed to allow in some fresh air. The curtains blew in across the chimney to the oil lamp on the table, nearly knocking it over.

‘Why he wanted it there is beyond reason,’ said to himself. ‘Perhaps he never opened the window. Ah, well. I’ll just move the table to the other side. Wouldn’t care to have the stable burn down from a spilled lamp.’

The table moved, the floor given a perfunctory sweep with the stable broom and Derufin declared the room ready for occupancy. ‘Something’s missing, though,’ he thought, sweeping the room one last time. ‘A chair, of course!’ There were none to spare in the stable, so he put it on his list to tell Beren to ask Aman for one of the spares in the Inn cellar.

The horses nickered at him as he pass, and he spoke gently to each of them. ‘I’ll be back right after my own meal and get you settled in and fed. In the meantime take advantage of the fresh sweet hay I’ve left for you.’

Nettle, the Inn pony, eyed the barrel of tasty oats sitting against the wall just opposite his stall. He stamped his foot and snorted at the man’s passing remark.