I had to write something silly for this challenge, did I not? (ficvariations june challenge)
Eomer spluttered and tried to wipe the flour off his face, but to no avail. His sleeve too was covered in the white powder and he simply succeeded in smearing it across his ear.
"This. Does. Not. Work," he growled at his near-hysterical friend by the door. Hysterical laughter, that is. Gamling just kept on laughing.
"I never took you for the baking sort, Eomer," Gamling said.
"You'll have to sew me an apron for my next birthday," Eomer retorted. Gamling shrugged.
"It can't be all that hard, right? All women seem to do is thread a needle and just stitch. Any man could do it if they didn't have more important things to do."
"Like baking cakes?" Eomer asked, one eyebrow raised. Gamling looked pointedly at the doughy mess on the bench, then back at Eomer.
"That's a cake?" he asked.
"Yes, smartarse," Eomer grumbled. "Or it will be. Once I can work out how to put flour in without getting it all over me. No wonder Eowyn refused to be taught how to cook."
"You're already covered in flour, what harm can a little more do?" Gamling said practically, then grinned at his friend's misfortune. Eomer looked contemplatively at the flour sack in the corner. "I don't like that look on your face…" Eomer cut him off by chucking a handful of flour at him. Gamling coughed as it entered his nose.
"Surely such a famous warrior isn't scared of a bit of flour?" Eomer asked in fake surprised. "You've gone as white as a sheet!"
"You would've thought that the king of Rohan wasn't into baking, but obviously we're both mistaken," Gamling replied. Eomer glared at him, and then redirected the look towards the sticky mess in front of him.
"This is useless," he said, throwing a spoon at the dough. It bounced back off. "Actually…" He tore off a handful of dough and threw it hard on the floor. It made a small 'boing' sound and returned to his hand.
"Tell me you're not going to try and have that gunk served at Eowyn's birthday feast," Gamling begged, seeing the amazing properties of the bouncy dough.
"No, I've found a better use for it," Eomer replied. He smirked and threw the dough at Gamling. He had good aim. It bounced off the man's forehead.
"Wh - you - I hate you!" Gamling exclaimed, feeling his forehead. Not a trace of dough remained. "Here – give me some!" Eomer threw him a piece. Gamling tried to catch it, but every time he caught it in his hand it bounced away from him again back to Eomer. The stuff was about as easy to catch as frogspawn.
Eomer, getting tired of this after an amusing ten minutes, tore off another piece of dough and threw it at Gamling. It landed on Gamling's long, pointy noise. It stayed there.
Gamling felt something squelch onto his nose. He looked down. He crossed his eyes. He pulled out the mirror he secretly carried around with him, the one that inspired all the "is that a mirror in my pocket or am I looking forward to seeing me?" phrases going round Middle Earth right then. Eomer choked. He hadn't been expecting that one.
As Gamling was preening in the mirror, Eowyn sauntered into the kitchen. Her eyes took in the devastation. She put a shocked hand to her mouth. She started laughing.
"What is going on?" she asked in disbelief. She spied the chef's hat upon Eomer's head. "Were – were you baking?" Eomer nodded sheepishly. Eowyn squealed in delight.
"Wow, that's fantastic! We need a woman in this family!" she exclaimed happily.
"You're a woman," Eomer said. Eowyn smirked knowingly.
"You want me to shake it like a Polaroid picture?" she asked.
"Shake what? And what's a Polaroid picture?" Eomer asked, managing to look baffled through the layer of flour coating his face – and head – and body.
"You know… it! You know! It! And I don't know what a Polaroid picture is," Eowyn said, her cheeks turning a delicate pink.
"Ohhhh… you mean a –" Gamling clapped a hand over Eomer's mouth.
"Not in front of the lady," he said and bowed gracefully to Eowyn. "Ewwww!" Eomer had licked his hand.
"Don't you hit on my sister!" he growled. Gamling gulped and backed away.
"You two would make a cute couple…" Eowyn said dreamily. Gamling and Eomer gulped and backed away further. "Apart from the fact you both have it."
"Let's sort this cake out," Eomer said a moment later, unsubtly changing the topic.
"What did you put into it? It's kind of brown," Eowyn said critically.
"The only brown thing is sugar," Eomer said truthfully.
"Eomer dear, sugar is white," Eowyn said slowly and carefully.
"No, it was brown. Over there, see?" he said, pointing at two sacks marked sugar. Eowyn rushed over to investigate. She let out a howl, a whine, and cried to the moon, and her fingernails lengthened and fur grew all over her… just joking. She just let out a howl.
"Which one? This is really important! There are two shades of brown sugar here!" she said with the air of one who is in her dying throes and needs questions answered.
"Er… does it really matter? They're both brown sugar," Eomer said, coming to have a look at the products in question. Eowyn gasped.
"Sacrilege!" she said, pointing at him dramatically. "Traitor!"
"But… it's just sugar…" Eomer protested.
"But Eomer! Was it dark or light brown soft cane sugar?!"