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lotrchallengesAuthor: Virtuella
Title: Some Like It Hot – But Maybe Not Quite That Hot
Rating: G
Theme: Some like it hot
Elements: 222 words, a Fixed=length-ficlet
Author's Notes:
Summary:The first meeting between the King of Rohan and the Princess of Dol Amroth has a bit of a surprise in store.
Word Count: 222
Some Like It Hot – But Maybe Not Quite That Hot
“So how do you like Dol Amroth?”
“I like it very well. The young princess is possibly the greatest of its attractions,” replied Éomer gallantly.
“Indeed?” The smile that appeared on Lothíriel’s face was more amused than flattered, but the King of Rohan had his eyes fixed on the plate in front of him, for the task of tackling the seafood course had proved challenging, and besides, he had little experience in reading the subtleties of a woman’s expression.
“I would imagine that you find our food a little bit unusual?”
Éomer at last succeeded in extracting the flesh from the shell of the winkle with the delicate little fork he had found next to his plate.
“Not at all,” he said and ventured a look at Lothíriel. “I enjoy variety. You need not think that the Rohirrim are ignorant of foreign cooking.”
Lothíriel’s lips curled up even more enigmatically than before.
“So you’ll like chillies, too, then?” she asked in the most innocent tone she could manage.
“Oh, certainly,” he replied, maybe a bit too quickly.
Lothíriel reached for a bowl and placed a generous spoonful of a red puree on Éomer’s plate. Without hesitation, Éomer loaded his fork.
Five seconds later, he was bent over his napkin, coughing.
“Delicious, isn’t it?” said Lothíriel and handed him his glass of water.
Title: Some Like It Hot – But Maybe Not Quite That Hot
Rating: G
Theme: Some like it hot
Elements: 222 words, a Fixed=length-ficlet
Author's Notes:
Summary:The first meeting between the King of Rohan and the Princess of Dol Amroth has a bit of a surprise in store.
Word Count: 222
“So how do you like Dol Amroth?”
“I like it very well. The young princess is possibly the greatest of its attractions,” replied Éomer gallantly.
“Indeed?” The smile that appeared on Lothíriel’s face was more amused than flattered, but the King of Rohan had his eyes fixed on the plate in front of him, for the task of tackling the seafood course had proved challenging, and besides, he had little experience in reading the subtleties of a woman’s expression.
“I would imagine that you find our food a little bit unusual?”
Éomer at last succeeded in extracting the flesh from the shell of the winkle with the delicate little fork he had found next to his plate.
“Not at all,” he said and ventured a look at Lothíriel. “I enjoy variety. You need not think that the Rohirrim are ignorant of foreign cooking.”
Lothíriel’s lips curled up even more enigmatically than before.
“So you’ll like chillies, too, then?” she asked in the most innocent tone she could manage.
“Oh, certainly,” he replied, maybe a bit too quickly.
Lothíriel reached for a bowl and placed a generous spoonful of a red puree on Éomer’s plate. Without hesitation, Éomer loaded his fork.
Five seconds later, he was bent over his napkin, coughing.
“Delicious, isn’t it?” said Lothíriel and handed him his glass of water.