Two updates in as many days! I must be mad.
Legolas-lover-baby: Okay, you can have a lager speaking part. But I'm not sure who'll find Legolas. You did get sent off as the scout at one point, so . . .
Inbefaniel: Yay for jam! Oh, now I see. So *that*'s why you people like me: because I keep introducing characters. Sleep? What is this 'sleep'?
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Yeah, I forgot to update my bio for a while, sorry. I'll have to read that story, if it's on here of course. No, Legolas doesn't use fancy pancakes, he doesn't like them. The Shire . . . he does need to go over there, actually, I'll send him. Allergic to pancakes? No! And what is french toast? I've never encountered it.
Viktoreja Rose: Ooh, a genius reviewer. I'm so honoured. I'm glad you like it. I'll go and read your story once this is up. Pancake withdrawal? I think someone else mentioned that once . . . anyway. I've got people giggling at pancakes? Wow, I feel special. Argh, another reviewer with more names than Arastridestelessar!
Elanhin: I'm sorry, I was on holiday. Out of the country, no computers. Ngh! Ah, a permanently happy reviewer. So nice.
Bulma Greenleaf: I'm so glad you like it! Mm, yummy pie. And you can be an elf, then. Bling, it is so.
Hirilnara: Yup, I'm back. Yes, save the Metahug! And I've used your pancake idea. The stones should be up next episode. Ooh, padded walls . . .
Liliac (fangirl in training): Well, I worked in a little Legolas at the end, but they get him back soon, so not too much. The fish will go, sometime.
And now for something completely different: The actual story.
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Eight: The White City
The trip was long and arduous, but eventually, the rescue team came to Minas Tirith, the Tower of Guard. As they rode up the busy streets Hirilnara saw a face she recognised.
"Viktoreja!" she called out, and when the figure did not turn, "Viktoreja Rose!"
The human girl looked round, bwemused, and then finally spotted the girl on the horse. "Hirilnara!" she called in reply, and rushed over. Hirilnara turned to the others and said, "This is my friend Viktoreja. I met her last time I was here."
"Yes," agreed Viktoreja, "you were with the weird elf in black. Who are these people?"
"These are . . ." Hirilnara paused. ". . . friends. We're looking for another elf who we think might have been here. Apparently he got lost down in Harondor somewhere. Hey, it's getting late. D'you think we could stay with you?"
The girl looked uncertain at the thought of accomodating such a large group, but eventually agreed. "Sure, you can leave your horses in my stables. With my parents off at some banquet, I've got the house to myself tonight."
Chocolat came up alongside Hirilnara as they rode up the steep road. "Are you sure we can trust her?" asked the elf. Hirilnara smiled back. "It doesn't matter. In the morning, she won't even remember us."
The girl moved ahead, leaving Chocolat Elf to wonder at her willingness to sacrifice her friend. Perhaps the Pancake spell had been made too strong.
The group arrived at the house. As they put their own horses in the stables, Hirilnara noted with satisfaction that there were easily enough resident to replace them in the morning. Then she turned and followed the others inside.
As she entered the room she found Hethien explaining to Viktoreja, ". . . come from an organisation which aims to protect elves wherever we encounter them. So, naturally, when we heard of this one going missing, we grabbed a few helpers and rushed down here." Despite the inaccuracy, Hirilnara found herself nodding in agreement. It was a good story, and should satisfy Vickie until it was no longer necessary.
After some more light conversation, the team settled in for the night. Viktoreja assured them that she would wake them at dawn. Merrylyn assured them that she would wake them haf an hour beforehand.
Thus it was that Viktoreja rose entered the room to find it completely tidy, with just one figure standing in the centre. As she started to ask where everyone was, the figure in the brown cloak turned, flung out an arm, and . . .
SPLAT!
As Vickie dropped to the floor, the pancake - ordinary save for the amnesia-inducing potion - still attatched firmly to her face, Hethien turned to the window, took a step back, and jumped.
She landed on the back of the horse waiting below. As soon as she did, Merrylyn ordered the entire group forward, leaving Viktoreja's house - including their own horses, still in the stables - behind. As they travelled down the street, the senior ISPCE representative quizzed her assistant.
"Hethien, how long did it take the subject to reach unconciousness?"
"Aproximately five seconds."
"And how long would it take to drop an elf with the same throw?"
"Three times as . . . oh."
Merrylyn frowned. "What do you mean 'oh' . . . oh. Oh dear."
Ahead of them, the soldiers of Gondor were assembling, weapons drawn, in the street, effectively blocking off their escape. Merrylyn turned to the others and said, "Don't worry, they may not be here for -"
THUD.
An arrow quivered in the wall beside Hethien's head. Merrylyn sighed, then accepted the stack of pancakes that Amariel was handing to her.
There was work to be done.
Ten minutes later, the Gondorian army lay scattered on the cobblestones. Thanks to Hirilnara's special maple syrup and chocolate chip pancakes, several of them seemed to have been pebbledashed, while others were coated in a bewildering variety of fruits and sauces. Through the debris were the hoofprints of eight horses, bearing South towards Harad.
And, far away in the midst of a group of dark skinned soldiers, a lone elf sat with his head in his hands and despaired of rescue ever coming.
* * * *
Well, there you go. Even a short Legolas appearence at the end for you. Now, how about repaying the favour and reviewing?
hS
Legolas-lover-baby: Okay, you can have a lager speaking part. But I'm not sure who'll find Legolas. You did get sent off as the scout at one point, so . . .
Inbefaniel: Yay for jam! Oh, now I see. So *that*'s why you people like me: because I keep introducing characters. Sleep? What is this 'sleep'?
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Yeah, I forgot to update my bio for a while, sorry. I'll have to read that story, if it's on here of course. No, Legolas doesn't use fancy pancakes, he doesn't like them. The Shire . . . he does need to go over there, actually, I'll send him. Allergic to pancakes? No! And what is french toast? I've never encountered it.
Viktoreja Rose: Ooh, a genius reviewer. I'm so honoured. I'm glad you like it. I'll go and read your story once this is up. Pancake withdrawal? I think someone else mentioned that once . . . anyway. I've got people giggling at pancakes? Wow, I feel special. Argh, another reviewer with more names than Arastridestelessar!
Elanhin: I'm sorry, I was on holiday. Out of the country, no computers. Ngh! Ah, a permanently happy reviewer. So nice.
Bulma Greenleaf: I'm so glad you like it! Mm, yummy pie. And you can be an elf, then. Bling, it is so.
Hirilnara: Yup, I'm back. Yes, save the Metahug! And I've used your pancake idea. The stones should be up next episode. Ooh, padded walls . . .
Liliac (fangirl in training): Well, I worked in a little Legolas at the end, but they get him back soon, so not too much. The fish will go, sometime.
And now for something completely different: The actual story.
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Eight: The White City
The trip was long and arduous, but eventually, the rescue team came to Minas Tirith, the Tower of Guard. As they rode up the busy streets Hirilnara saw a face she recognised.
"Viktoreja!" she called out, and when the figure did not turn, "Viktoreja Rose!"
The human girl looked round, bwemused, and then finally spotted the girl on the horse. "Hirilnara!" she called in reply, and rushed over. Hirilnara turned to the others and said, "This is my friend Viktoreja. I met her last time I was here."
"Yes," agreed Viktoreja, "you were with the weird elf in black. Who are these people?"
"These are . . ." Hirilnara paused. ". . . friends. We're looking for another elf who we think might have been here. Apparently he got lost down in Harondor somewhere. Hey, it's getting late. D'you think we could stay with you?"
The girl looked uncertain at the thought of accomodating such a large group, but eventually agreed. "Sure, you can leave your horses in my stables. With my parents off at some banquet, I've got the house to myself tonight."
Chocolat came up alongside Hirilnara as they rode up the steep road. "Are you sure we can trust her?" asked the elf. Hirilnara smiled back. "It doesn't matter. In the morning, she won't even remember us."
The girl moved ahead, leaving Chocolat Elf to wonder at her willingness to sacrifice her friend. Perhaps the Pancake spell had been made too strong.
The group arrived at the house. As they put their own horses in the stables, Hirilnara noted with satisfaction that there were easily enough resident to replace them in the morning. Then she turned and followed the others inside.
As she entered the room she found Hethien explaining to Viktoreja, ". . . come from an organisation which aims to protect elves wherever we encounter them. So, naturally, when we heard of this one going missing, we grabbed a few helpers and rushed down here." Despite the inaccuracy, Hirilnara found herself nodding in agreement. It was a good story, and should satisfy Vickie until it was no longer necessary.
After some more light conversation, the team settled in for the night. Viktoreja assured them that she would wake them at dawn. Merrylyn assured them that she would wake them haf an hour beforehand.
Thus it was that Viktoreja rose entered the room to find it completely tidy, with just one figure standing in the centre. As she started to ask where everyone was, the figure in the brown cloak turned, flung out an arm, and . . .
SPLAT!
As Vickie dropped to the floor, the pancake - ordinary save for the amnesia-inducing potion - still attatched firmly to her face, Hethien turned to the window, took a step back, and jumped.
She landed on the back of the horse waiting below. As soon as she did, Merrylyn ordered the entire group forward, leaving Viktoreja's house - including their own horses, still in the stables - behind. As they travelled down the street, the senior ISPCE representative quizzed her assistant.
"Hethien, how long did it take the subject to reach unconciousness?"
"Aproximately five seconds."
"And how long would it take to drop an elf with the same throw?"
"Three times as . . . oh."
Merrylyn frowned. "What do you mean 'oh' . . . oh. Oh dear."
Ahead of them, the soldiers of Gondor were assembling, weapons drawn, in the street, effectively blocking off their escape. Merrylyn turned to the others and said, "Don't worry, they may not be here for -"
THUD.
An arrow quivered in the wall beside Hethien's head. Merrylyn sighed, then accepted the stack of pancakes that Amariel was handing to her.
There was work to be done.
Ten minutes later, the Gondorian army lay scattered on the cobblestones. Thanks to Hirilnara's special maple syrup and chocolate chip pancakes, several of them seemed to have been pebbledashed, while others were coated in a bewildering variety of fruits and sauces. Through the debris were the hoofprints of eight horses, bearing South towards Harad.
And, far away in the midst of a group of dark skinned soldiers, a lone elf sat with his head in his hands and despaired of rescue ever coming.
* * * *
Well, there you go. Even a short Legolas appearence at the end for you. Now, how about repaying the favour and reviewing?
hS