Adar's Favorite by Rhyselle
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lotrchallengesAuthor: Rhyselle
Title: Adar’s Favourite
Rating: general
Theme: Some like it hot
Element: 275
Summary: The reborn sons of Dior make something for their foster father’s dinner. (Note: This ficlet is set in a variation of Fiondil's ficverse, shortly after Glorfindel's return to Aman in the Fourth Age)
Ada's Favorite
Eluréd and Elurín stared avidly at Finrod as he picked up his spoon to sample the soup that had been placed before him. He raised an eyebrow at the Reborn sons of Dior, then turned towards his wife. “Do I have something caught in my teeth from the last remove?” he asked.
Amarië shook her head, eyes sparkling. “Of course not, my love. I believe that they simply wish to know if you like the soup, as they helped to make it.”
The former King of Nargothrond’s other eyebrow rose, but he grinned as he asked, “And the kitchens are still intact?”
Eluréd opened his mouth to protest, but Elurín shook his head at him, derailing the impolite protest before it could be aired. “Adar, we haven’t smashed anything since that first time, and that was an accident. We’re very careful when we cook, just like we were taught to do in Lórien.”
The prince relented and dipped his spoon into the reddish brown soup, scooping up a generous spoonful of minced meat, beans, finely slivered carrots and plump softened bits of grain. “And was this a recipe that you learned to do there? What is it called?” He put the bowl of the spoon into his mouth and swallowed the contents before they answered.
The spoon landed in the bowl and splattered the tablecloth and Finrod’s robe as he lunged for the nearest goblet to put out the fire the burned from his lips all the way to his stomach.
Eluréd proudly answered, “Gondolin Pepper Soup. Glorfindel said it was your very favourite, so we put in extra hot peppers just for you, Adar!”
Title: Adar’s Favourite
Rating: general
Theme: Some like it hot
Element: 275
Summary: The reborn sons of Dior make something for their foster father’s dinner. (Note: This ficlet is set in a variation of Fiondil's ficverse, shortly after Glorfindel's return to Aman in the Fourth Age)
Eluréd and Elurín stared avidly at Finrod as he picked up his spoon to sample the soup that had been placed before him. He raised an eyebrow at the Reborn sons of Dior, then turned towards his wife. “Do I have something caught in my teeth from the last remove?” he asked.
Amarië shook her head, eyes sparkling. “Of course not, my love. I believe that they simply wish to know if you like the soup, as they helped to make it.”
The former King of Nargothrond’s other eyebrow rose, but he grinned as he asked, “And the kitchens are still intact?”
Eluréd opened his mouth to protest, but Elurín shook his head at him, derailing the impolite protest before it could be aired. “Adar, we haven’t smashed anything since that first time, and that was an accident. We’re very careful when we cook, just like we were taught to do in Lórien.”
The prince relented and dipped his spoon into the reddish brown soup, scooping up a generous spoonful of minced meat, beans, finely slivered carrots and plump softened bits of grain. “And was this a recipe that you learned to do there? What is it called?” He put the bowl of the spoon into his mouth and swallowed the contents before they answered.
The spoon landed in the bowl and splattered the tablecloth and Finrod’s robe as he lunged for the nearest goblet to put out the fire the burned from his lips all the way to his stomach.
Eluréd proudly answered, “Gondolin Pepper Soup. Glorfindel said it was your very favourite, so we put in extra hot peppers just for you, Adar!”