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Anyopâ watched the Hobbit make her way back into the kitchen. He gathered up an armful of wood and made for the woodshed.
‘She belies the name Halfling, don’t you think?’ he asked Derufin. ‘In stature she’s quite diminutive, but in spirit she stands quite tall.’ He smiled, recalling her ticking off of orders for the day to Derufin. ‘I can’t imagine anyone crossing her with success.’
A whiff of cooling cookies wended its way out through the kitchen’s window, making the man’s mouth water. ‘You are going to share your plate of sugar cookies with your fellow worker, aren’t you?’ he asked Derufin as he stacked the wood.
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But Huan the hound was true of heart, and the love of Lúthien had fallen upon him in the first hour of their meeting; and he grieved at her captivity . . .
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