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Anyopâ peeked his head round the edge of the door, his gaze falling finally on Derufin as he sat at the kitchen table. The three women were standing near, no weapons in sight save the dishtowels that hung innocently from their hands.
‘If you don’t mind,’ he said sidling over to another of the chairs, his eyes keeping the three Hobbits in view. ‘I’ve just come in for a cookie or two.’ He nodded toward Derufin. ‘As Derufin said he would share from his plate. And perhaps a cup of tea,’ he said hopefully.
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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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