[Envinyatar]

‘I have heard,’ said Derufin, leaning toward Benat, ‘that you hail from north up the Anduin. I’ve never been farther north on that river than Minas Tirith.’ He drew his index finger through the puddle of condensation left on the wooden surface of the table by his mug. ‘It’s a wide river there, with some swift currents that run in the middle channels. But for the most part it runs lazily down to the bay between widening banks. What is it like, further north . . . much the same?’

Zimzi drew her chair closer to Derufin’s. She too was eager to know about the place where such a giant of a man hailed. She had come from Lindon, and Bywater was the furthest east she had ever come. Derufin leaned back in his chair putting his arm about her shoulders and pulling her near in a comfortable embrace. She snuggled in against him, her dark eyes on Benat’s face. ‘Is there a Missus at home?’ she asked, thinking how lucky a woman would be to have such a strong, gentle man with such merriment in his eyes. ‘Someone waiting for your return?’