The First Taste

Part Two: Back to the Future

"You're such a cry baby! Would you stop it?!" Elladan yelled down the hall at Elrohir. Another day had brought another reason for Elrohir to start complaining and moping about. Today's reason happened to be 5'10", raven-haired, pale, and blue-eyed. Her name was Lygewen. Elrohir had run into the young girl on the street today, finding her a prime target for some crazy flirting. As it turns out, that was not the best idea. Her husband, Firadan, showed up. He was furious. And vengeful in the least. But Lygewen told Elrohir he was nobody. Which landed the young Elf a black eye to go with his broken heart.

"Elladan! Stop yelling at me! I'm not having a good day." Elrohir sobbed loudly while walking down the hall. He headed straight down the path he had walked almost every day since he was younger. At almost three thousand years old, he was still walking this path. The path straight to the kitchens.

Elladan rolled his eyes and kept on his route to his room. Some work had been calling his name all afternoon and it was time to get rid of it. Disappearing down the hall, Elladan made his way right through the door and it slammed behind him.

Elrohir on the other hand had now made it to the kitchens. He opened the door to the dining hall and crossed the large empty room. Then through another door, and he was inside the kitchens. Walking through the main kitchen with his head down, he finally found the back of the kitchens where there was a solitary girl cutting vegetables at the counter silently.

"Ai. Elrohir. What happened today? Here. If you're going to bother me while I'm working, at least chop something up for me." Quesse, the woman in the kitchen, pushed a knife and a pepper towards Elrohir. Her hands were covered in flour to make the lembas dough. Her face was to match, slightly tanned skin and freckles covered in flour. Hazel eyes peered down at the dough she was kneeding while she listened to her raven-haired friend. Her raven curls were tied back at the nape of her neck to keep her hair out of the dough.

"Of course, Quesse." Pulling the pepper closer and picking up the knife, Elrohir proceeded to chop up the pepper for dinner that night. "My day was atrocious! There was a woman on the street! Elladan said its obvious it was going to happen to me. But I went across the street and started speaking with her. And she was so nice to me. Then her husband showed up. He hit me. Pretty hard too! But the black eye is gone. Thank Manwe!"

Quesse rolled her eyes and continued kneeding the dough. "I'm so sorry for you, Elrohir. I mean, you went outside in the nice sun and got to have some fun and then get in a fight while I sat in here and made dough. It must have been more fun than going outside though." Looking at the window, she thought of what time it was. Perhaps she could leave soon. A stroll in town actually seemed quite nice after eight hours cooped up in a kitchen like a chicken in a pen.

Elrohir frowned. "I don't know about you, but black eyes aren't fun to me. If it's really that important to you to go outside though, then put down the lembas. We'll go outside." He set down the knife ontop of the sliced peppers and picked up the dough, stuffing it under the island. Strangely enough, it stuck there like bubblegum on the underside of a desk. Quesse arched a brow.

"That's going to get me in trouble."

"Oh well."

And with that, Elrohir grabbed Quesse's wrist, dragging her towards the exit.

TBC. I know, short chapter. I want to keep them short though.