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Liliffith inhaled deeply the aroma emanating from her pot of stew. She had the balance of savory beef, onions, carrots, and herbs just right. Achieving this level of perfection when cooking at such a large scale was difficult for most of the kitchen elves, but not for Liliffith. Stew was her art, and the massive stew pot in the Hogwarts kitchen was her canvas.
Once all the wizardlings’ meals were set out upon the tables, and her fellow kitchen elves were well-dished themselves, Liliffith ladled herself a bowl of the beef stew. She grabbed a fresh bap from the baskets next to the ovens, and found her favorite seat on the floor by one of the fireplaces. All the elves had their favorite sitting spots. She usually sat with Feenky.
“Sergeant Hab—uh, Habby—told Feenky that Feenky had to go to the after-work party,” complained Feenky. “It’s not as though she can say no to Habby. Now Feenky has to do whatever she wants.”
“Poor Feenky,” Liliffith said. Habby, the kitchen boss, walked by just then. Liliffith turned her head down so as not to invite Habby’s attention, or she would have to go to the after-work party, too. Again.
…
Liliffith’s last job that night was to sweep the floor. She liked to sweep the floor. Her broom felt nice in her hands. Sweeping was like stirring—repetitive and peaceful. And now most of the elves were either at the after-work party or had managed to slip away to their barrel homes in the corner of the kitchen.
She swept under the table. There was a pair of feet under there. Liliffith’s eyes looked above the table.
“Is that Deek?” She asked. The elf had his head down on the table. One hand grasped the handle of a mug of butterbeer.
“Just saaad Deek,” Deek said. She knew Deek. His favorite was cock-a-leekie soup and clootie dumpling. But he didn’t work in the kitchen.
“You are sad?” Liliffith was sad at the very thought.
Deek took a drink from his mug. “Deek had bad news told to Deek.” His eyes were cast down. They were too heavy to lift.
Liliffith placed her broom against the bench and sat down across from Deek. “Liliffith can listen to you. You don’t need to be sad alone. Tell Liliffith what’s the matter.”
Deek closed his eyes. “Deek found out Deek’s old friend has died. Not just died, but died all alone. It was Tobbs. Tobbs was Deek’s old friend. Tobbs’ master made Tobbs work in a cave full of spiders. One of them killlled him. A wizardling found him and told Deek.”
“Oh,” said Liliffith. “I’m sorry Deek.” She really was.
“Deek hasn’t seen Tobbs in a long time, but Deek wished Tobbs’ had come here with Deek. The wizardling told Deek that Tobbs is stillll in the cave with all the spiders.”
“The wizardling left Tobbs?”
“Yes!” Deek took another drink.
“Could you ask the wizardling to bring Tobbs out of the cave?”
“Deek has already asked too much of the wizard…elling. The wizardelllling is kind, and the wizardellllllling found Tobbs, and told Deek. That is more than Deek should’ve even asked for.”
“Oh. And tonight you are having a drink because you are sad?”
“Deek has a drink…” He raised his mug into the air. “To wish Tobbs the best and to honor Tobbs with… a final toast. To Tobbs!”
Liliffith jumped up and dashed over to a rack of mugs. She dispensed a little butterbeer into it and returned to Deek. “To Tobbs!” She thrust her mug into Deek’s mug.
…
Feenky noticed Liliffith wasn’t chopping onions. She was usually chopping onions first thing in the morning. She liked to get that task done early. It helped her wake up, she said. Feenky knocked on her friend’s door. “Is Liliffith in there? Is Liliffith okay?”
The doorknob of Liliffith’s barrel home turned. The door cracked open. Liliffith’s half-open eye emerged from behind the door. She was still in her sleeping cap.
“Liliffith? Why are you still at home?” Feenky asked, concerned. She peered past Liliffith and saw something strange. “Is that—? Is that Deek?”
Liliffith’s eyes opened all the way and glanced behind her.
“Why is Deek in there?” Feenky asked, rather loudly.
“Shhhh!” Liliffith hushed her. She quickly opened the door, stepped out, and closed it quietly behind her. “Don’t wake Deek!”
“Liliffith, what’s going on? Why is Deek… why is Deek… why is—”
“Feenky, stop convulsing! Liliffith will tell you.” Feenky’s eyes were saucers as she stared at her friend. “Deek was sad last night. His friend died and Liliffith couldn’t leave him alone. Deek needed rest. He needed to be tucked in and watched over.”
“Oh,” said Feenky. “But Sergeant wouldn’t like it.”
“What Habby doesn’t like doesn’t matter to Liliffith when it comes to Deek. Deek is too nice. He needs to be taken care of.”
“Oh,” said Feenky. “Alright then.”
…
Sometimes wizardlings came into the kitchen to eat. There was one who brought fish to cook in the kitchen sometimes. He ate with a witchling and they shared their fish with Liliffith and others, too. That day he brought a big, shiny brown trout to roast and share.
“Liliffith, can I ask you a question?” The wizardling asked. “I don’t know much about elf-culture, and I need some help.”
“Arran can ask Liliffith any questions,” she said, as they ate roasted trout together, by the fireplace.
“Thank you, Liliffith. You see, I found myself in a situation where I didn’t know the right thing to do,” he began. “I found an elf. He had… passed away. He was in a cave. I left him there because I didn’t know how elves would want one of their deceased treated or what would be proper to do with him. What should I have done?”
Liliffith gasped as she put together the pieces. “Do you mean Deek’s friend, Tobbs?”
“Yes, that’s right,” said the wizardling. “It seems that you know of Tobbs.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Deek told Liliffith a wizardling found Tobbs. That was Arran? Deek was sad. He didn’t want to ask Arran for any more favors, so Liliffith will ask. Can Arran bring out Tobbs from that cave? There is a cemetery on the mountain for elves, for when one of the elves from this area needs a place to go. Tobbs can go there.”
“Of course, I will,” the wizardling said. “Can you tell me about your traditions when it comes to this sort of thing?”
“Elves bury their dead elves and say some fond memories about their dead elves and sing songs for their dead elves. And Arran and Poppy would both be most welcome.” She looked at the witchling, who gently smiled.
…
Liliffith made cock-a-leekie soup the night after the burial of Tobbs. She hummed to herself the elf-ballad she had sung for Tobbs that day. All the wizardlings above them ate cock-a-leekie soup for Tobbs, and mostly for Deek. She placed a bowl in front of Deek.
“Thank you, Liliffith. There is no one who can cook like you,” Deek said, as he breathed in the soup steam. “There is no one who can sing like you.” Deek reached behind him and pulled out a posy of evergreens and held it out to her. “There is no one as nice as Liliffith. Thank you.”
Liliffith gasped quietly and looked at the small bundle of greenery. “Are they for soup?”
“No, they’re not for cooking. They’re for smelling nice and looking nice. Deek puts one in Deek’s home in the winter. Deek thought Liliffith might find enjoyment in the delicious smell, like Deek does.”
“Oh, I see,” said Liliffith. She sniffed the greens and they were delicious. Good enough to put in soup, but she would hang them in her house, as Deek suggested.
“Sometimes wizardlings give posies to witchlings when they are glad to be friends. Deek is glad to be friends with Liliffith,” said Deek.