Disclaimer: I do not own Middle-earth. It belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.
Author's Note:
Sorry it's been such a long time since I've updated. I've been really busy with other stuff; other pieces, Photoshop, etc.
Um... yeah, that's pretty much the only thing I have to say. Enjoy reading!
!naheka!
WIND AND FIRE
Chapter 3: Naudae
Kicking the cabinet door shut while rummaging through another drawer for a butter knife, Narcissus glanced over her shoulder before turning back again to the plate of toast in front of her. A small pile of torn and scribbled notes sat beside the washing tub, on the verge of falling into the white suds. Her hand made a diving catch to retrieve a leaf before turning to the nearest group of waiters passing by. "Table six has been at the menu for half an hour already."
"I will help him!" volunteered Aoreth, heading toward the swinging kitchen doors before anyone could answer.
Narcissus flung a soapy hand onto her shoulder, yanking her back. "Not you, you absent minded block-head! You'll make him even more tconfusedhan he already looks!"
"I promise not to read out the entire menu again," snapped Aoreth. "And besides, you have dishwashing duty, so you should stay out of my business."
"We are in the same business, Aoreth! Working at this inn long enough, I know you are going to apprehend the situation."
"He's not a madman or anything of the like."
Narcissus stared at her, unconvinced. She shook her head, and bitterly pushed the attractive, yet foolish waitress through the double swingingdoors. She could try to keep an eye on her through the opening panel near the front of the kitchen. It was only right behind her, and table six was directly next to it, too. Picking up another soiled dish and the wash cloth, she took to wiping platters again, half in remorse, half in hope. Maybe Aoreth could resist her excitement just this once.
~*~
Oni turned his head away from the blabbing maiden that had emerged from the kitchen cells. They speak mortal tongue, he thought. His fists clenched under the table. Damn. I knew I shouldn't've cut human language classes. Blast it all. The waitress wouldn't stop talking. Will she ever stop talking? He looked down at the menu again. It was a thick sheet of parchment with the name "The Red Ivy: Inn and Restaurant" scrawled across the head in smooth, scarlet ink. That summed up almost everything he could read and understand. He could identify the arabic characters, but couldn't identify the meaning of what each grouping of characters meant. For example, an entry near the top of the list read:
"SPECIAL RASPBERRY TEA"
What was a "RASPBERRY"? He knew what "TEA" was, but what could "RASPBERRY" be? Was it a berry that made your throat rasp? That couldn't be it... could it? And why was it special?
"Well? Do you?"
The waitresses squeaky voice brought him back to his senses. He looked up at her. She shuddered nervously for a moment, then repeated her question. "Do you speak the Common Tongue?"
They call it 'Common Tongue'. How quaint. Oni shook his head.
"Okay, then I suppose you can only understand a small part of it." He nodded. The waitress grinned. "Well! That's great! So what language do you speak then?" After that, she went into a self-to-self conversation about how could he understand her if he couldn't speak too much Common Tongue so what if he was lying to her and just a madman like the jealous girl in the kitchen said.
"Sachain," said Oni darkly.
The waitress paused for a moment, her thin eyebrows in danger of disappearing into her mane of silky black hair. "Excuse me... Sakayan?"
His patience was tried easily. "Sa-chai-n! You have that gutturalhiss sound with the 'chai' when you pronounce it."
"Oh... er... yes, I knew that." She grinned sheepishly, showing a row of perfectly lined, white teeth. "Um... where do you come from?"
From their very right, a wooden panel of the wall slid open, and another waitress leaned out of it. "Aoreth you blockhead," she snapped. "You've been chatting at his face for too long already. Get back in the kitchen - it's your turn to wash dishes." As his waitress, Aoreth, gasped at the new waitress, clearly offended by her remark, she turned to him and said, "I'm so sorry, sir. Here." From out of the window she pulled a white plate with two slices of bread, "Buttered toast," then a small glass container and a thin knife, "and strawberry jam."
Aoreth took each item carefully through the window, and set them on the table. "Free of charge, due to the long wait you've had. If you need anything else," she nodded at him, "call for a waiter or just give a tap on the window." She knocked on the sliding door twice as a demonstration. "Have a good brunch." Then the panel slid shut. Aoreth, still looking unappreciatively harassed, gave a small curtsey and headed back into the kitchen.
Oni watched her leave for a moment, glanced back at the wooden panel, then down at his food.
Naudae!
Of all the dishes he expected to find in this strange place, it was his favorite, naudae; otherwise known to man as buttered toast. It was practically a sacred food at home. The heavy grudge against the inn for bad service was immediately replaced with a respect for its choice in food. Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all.
~*~
Narcissus tucked the slightly soiled wiping rag (she had a habit of carrying one around constantly from experience) back into her apron pocket as she scanned the eating area for tables that were ready to be cleared for other customers. There was a scrape of a chair, wood against wood. The man from table number six, the unfortunate one to endure Aoreth's waiting service, stood up and slung a paper-brown sack over his shoulder, and casually walked out of the inn with a cool demeanor. He hadn't stopped at the inn registration counter, and so she assumed that he would be returning later in the day.
As she bent down to pick up his dishes, which had been completed salvaged of food to practically every last crumb, something shiny caught her eye. Picking up the plate, she found a single, round, gleaming gold piece. Rubbing it against her fingers, she discovered that its sleek softness had to make it pure gold. Pure gold! As a tip? Narcissus examined the coin closer. The face was completely blank on both sides. But the ridge, perhaps a millimeter wide, was engraved with strange markings - a collection of lines and dots. A sort of code, perhaps?
Narcissus shrugged. The tip was hers for now. She'd have to ask him about it later. What was his name again? Roni? No. She recalled her boss' perpetually smiling face telling her that the special guest's name was Oni. Of course, that wasn't such a common name in Bree at all; maybe even in all of Middle-earth. How many people in the world have inherited a name such as "Oni"?
As confusing as it was, her apron pocket seemed both heavier and lighter as she marched off to the next table to clear the dishes off.
~*~
"You knew I'd be here, didn't you?"
"You always are. How can I not suspect?"
The waitress bowed only a few degrees. "I'm sorry for interrupting you again. I imagine it must be rather annoying..." she waited for a cross reply from those thin, pale lips, but none came. "But I have a concern--"
Oni raised an eyebrow. "You have a concern?"
"Yes, I have a concern..." she reached into her pocket and pulled out the gold coin from earlier, "... about this unique piece you left on the table. Master Gladseed reckons that it is pure gold. And this is merely a tip you left on the counter? I had thought not; our service towards you hasn't been very... good...."
There was a silence as Oni ran the coin along his long fingers, his still eyes left expressionless as each marking on the rim of the coin passed his gaze. It would've been appropriate if those eyes were ice blue - it would match his current disposition. Finally, he handed the coin back to her. "This is the payment that I left on the table. It is yours." He held the coin gently over her hands, clenched together in front of her in her apprehension.
"But sir," objected Narcissus, "this is an awfully high--"
"Awfully?"
"...well... rather high payment. Your service this morning has been marked as free of charge. You really needn't--"
Oni kept the coin over her hands. "This is the payment that I left on the table. It is yours."
There was a loud ping as he flipped the coin into the air. Narcissus watched it spiral into the air, a single star against the darkness of the ceiling, taking flight into the night, then descending down, plummeting to the earth, where it landed with a flap in her palms. The smooth surface, smooth like glass, flashed in the dim light of the fireside. Its blank face stared up at her. Dead. Living. Like money. It was money.
A grumble broke the silence of of observing thoughts. At first, she thought it was the guest feeling grumpy again, yet it sounded rather bubbly for his vocal chords. Narcissus looked up. Oni was looking down at himself; at his stomach.
"Did you have anything to eat?" she asked. Oni shook his head.
"The food everywhere confuses me," he said darkly.
"Well..." she pocketed the coin and stepped out of the doorway, "I'll have to return the favor for such a large tip. Come downstairs. I will explain the menu to you so you won't have to starve yourself tomorrow." To her surprise, he nodded and followed her out the door, through the corridor, and down the flight of stairs.
As they entered the eating deck, he asked, "By the way, what's your name?"
"Mm? Oh. It's Narcissus."
Oni chuckled. "Ha. Narcissus. What a weird name."
If you're familiar with my series, yes, buttered toast is a very holy and sacred dish to Oni's family. Very special. I don't know why. It just really is.
Okee... I'm going to end up changing the title of this fic soon. Why? Because I don't like it - it doesn't identify the story amongst the others. I'll state the fic's new name in the next chapter. Why? Because I need time to think of one. ._."
Oh! And before you run yourselves out of here... how... do the people in Middle-earth go to the bathroom? I mean, in an inn, is there a series of pipes, or do you have to run outside and ... release? Yeah, disturbing question, but I've asked worse. :D
!naheka!
Author's Note:
Sorry it's been such a long time since I've updated. I've been really busy with other stuff; other pieces, Photoshop, etc.
Um... yeah, that's pretty much the only thing I have to say. Enjoy reading!
!naheka!
WIND AND FIRE
Chapter 3: Naudae
Kicking the cabinet door shut while rummaging through another drawer for a butter knife, Narcissus glanced over her shoulder before turning back again to the plate of toast in front of her. A small pile of torn and scribbled notes sat beside the washing tub, on the verge of falling into the white suds. Her hand made a diving catch to retrieve a leaf before turning to the nearest group of waiters passing by. "Table six has been at the menu for half an hour already."
"I will help him!" volunteered Aoreth, heading toward the swinging kitchen doors before anyone could answer.
Narcissus flung a soapy hand onto her shoulder, yanking her back. "Not you, you absent minded block-head! You'll make him even more tconfusedhan he already looks!"
"I promise not to read out the entire menu again," snapped Aoreth. "And besides, you have dishwashing duty, so you should stay out of my business."
"We are in the same business, Aoreth! Working at this inn long enough, I know you are going to apprehend the situation."
"He's not a madman or anything of the like."
Narcissus stared at her, unconvinced. She shook her head, and bitterly pushed the attractive, yet foolish waitress through the double swingingdoors. She could try to keep an eye on her through the opening panel near the front of the kitchen. It was only right behind her, and table six was directly next to it, too. Picking up another soiled dish and the wash cloth, she took to wiping platters again, half in remorse, half in hope. Maybe Aoreth could resist her excitement just this once.
~*~
Oni turned his head away from the blabbing maiden that had emerged from the kitchen cells. They speak mortal tongue, he thought. His fists clenched under the table. Damn. I knew I shouldn't've cut human language classes. Blast it all. The waitress wouldn't stop talking. Will she ever stop talking? He looked down at the menu again. It was a thick sheet of parchment with the name "The Red Ivy: Inn and Restaurant" scrawled across the head in smooth, scarlet ink. That summed up almost everything he could read and understand. He could identify the arabic characters, but couldn't identify the meaning of what each grouping of characters meant. For example, an entry near the top of the list read:
"SPECIAL RASPBERRY TEA"
What was a "RASPBERRY"? He knew what "TEA" was, but what could "RASPBERRY" be? Was it a berry that made your throat rasp? That couldn't be it... could it? And why was it special?
"Well? Do you?"
The waitresses squeaky voice brought him back to his senses. He looked up at her. She shuddered nervously for a moment, then repeated her question. "Do you speak the Common Tongue?"
They call it 'Common Tongue'. How quaint. Oni shook his head.
"Okay, then I suppose you can only understand a small part of it." He nodded. The waitress grinned. "Well! That's great! So what language do you speak then?" After that, she went into a self-to-self conversation about how could he understand her if he couldn't speak too much Common Tongue so what if he was lying to her and just a madman like the jealous girl in the kitchen said.
"Sachain," said Oni darkly.
The waitress paused for a moment, her thin eyebrows in danger of disappearing into her mane of silky black hair. "Excuse me... Sakayan?"
His patience was tried easily. "Sa-chai-n! You have that gutturalhiss sound with the 'chai' when you pronounce it."
"Oh... er... yes, I knew that." She grinned sheepishly, showing a row of perfectly lined, white teeth. "Um... where do you come from?"
From their very right, a wooden panel of the wall slid open, and another waitress leaned out of it. "Aoreth you blockhead," she snapped. "You've been chatting at his face for too long already. Get back in the kitchen - it's your turn to wash dishes." As his waitress, Aoreth, gasped at the new waitress, clearly offended by her remark, she turned to him and said, "I'm so sorry, sir. Here." From out of the window she pulled a white plate with two slices of bread, "Buttered toast," then a small glass container and a thin knife, "and strawberry jam."
Aoreth took each item carefully through the window, and set them on the table. "Free of charge, due to the long wait you've had. If you need anything else," she nodded at him, "call for a waiter or just give a tap on the window." She knocked on the sliding door twice as a demonstration. "Have a good brunch." Then the panel slid shut. Aoreth, still looking unappreciatively harassed, gave a small curtsey and headed back into the kitchen.
Oni watched her leave for a moment, glanced back at the wooden panel, then down at his food.
Naudae!
Of all the dishes he expected to find in this strange place, it was his favorite, naudae; otherwise known to man as buttered toast. It was practically a sacred food at home. The heavy grudge against the inn for bad service was immediately replaced with a respect for its choice in food. Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all.
~*~
Narcissus tucked the slightly soiled wiping rag (she had a habit of carrying one around constantly from experience) back into her apron pocket as she scanned the eating area for tables that were ready to be cleared for other customers. There was a scrape of a chair, wood against wood. The man from table number six, the unfortunate one to endure Aoreth's waiting service, stood up and slung a paper-brown sack over his shoulder, and casually walked out of the inn with a cool demeanor. He hadn't stopped at the inn registration counter, and so she assumed that he would be returning later in the day.
As she bent down to pick up his dishes, which had been completed salvaged of food to practically every last crumb, something shiny caught her eye. Picking up the plate, she found a single, round, gleaming gold piece. Rubbing it against her fingers, she discovered that its sleek softness had to make it pure gold. Pure gold! As a tip? Narcissus examined the coin closer. The face was completely blank on both sides. But the ridge, perhaps a millimeter wide, was engraved with strange markings - a collection of lines and dots. A sort of code, perhaps?
Narcissus shrugged. The tip was hers for now. She'd have to ask him about it later. What was his name again? Roni? No. She recalled her boss' perpetually smiling face telling her that the special guest's name was Oni. Of course, that wasn't such a common name in Bree at all; maybe even in all of Middle-earth. How many people in the world have inherited a name such as "Oni"?
As confusing as it was, her apron pocket seemed both heavier and lighter as she marched off to the next table to clear the dishes off.
~*~
"You knew I'd be here, didn't you?"
"You always are. How can I not suspect?"
The waitress bowed only a few degrees. "I'm sorry for interrupting you again. I imagine it must be rather annoying..." she waited for a cross reply from those thin, pale lips, but none came. "But I have a concern--"
Oni raised an eyebrow. "You have a concern?"
"Yes, I have a concern..." she reached into her pocket and pulled out the gold coin from earlier, "... about this unique piece you left on the table. Master Gladseed reckons that it is pure gold. And this is merely a tip you left on the counter? I had thought not; our service towards you hasn't been very... good...."
There was a silence as Oni ran the coin along his long fingers, his still eyes left expressionless as each marking on the rim of the coin passed his gaze. It would've been appropriate if those eyes were ice blue - it would match his current disposition. Finally, he handed the coin back to her. "This is the payment that I left on the table. It is yours." He held the coin gently over her hands, clenched together in front of her in her apprehension.
"But sir," objected Narcissus, "this is an awfully high--"
"Awfully?"
"...well... rather high payment. Your service this morning has been marked as free of charge. You really needn't--"
Oni kept the coin over her hands. "This is the payment that I left on the table. It is yours."
There was a loud ping as he flipped the coin into the air. Narcissus watched it spiral into the air, a single star against the darkness of the ceiling, taking flight into the night, then descending down, plummeting to the earth, where it landed with a flap in her palms. The smooth surface, smooth like glass, flashed in the dim light of the fireside. Its blank face stared up at her. Dead. Living. Like money. It was money.
A grumble broke the silence of of observing thoughts. At first, she thought it was the guest feeling grumpy again, yet it sounded rather bubbly for his vocal chords. Narcissus looked up. Oni was looking down at himself; at his stomach.
"Did you have anything to eat?" she asked. Oni shook his head.
"The food everywhere confuses me," he said darkly.
"Well..." she pocketed the coin and stepped out of the doorway, "I'll have to return the favor for such a large tip. Come downstairs. I will explain the menu to you so you won't have to starve yourself tomorrow." To her surprise, he nodded and followed her out the door, through the corridor, and down the flight of stairs.
As they entered the eating deck, he asked, "By the way, what's your name?"
"Mm? Oh. It's Narcissus."
Oni chuckled. "Ha. Narcissus. What a weird name."
If you're familiar with my series, yes, buttered toast is a very holy and sacred dish to Oni's family. Very special. I don't know why. It just really is.
Okee... I'm going to end up changing the title of this fic soon. Why? Because I don't like it - it doesn't identify the story amongst the others. I'll state the fic's new name in the next chapter. Why? Because I need time to think of one. ._."
Oh! And before you run yourselves out of here... how... do the people in Middle-earth go to the bathroom? I mean, in an inn, is there a series of pipes, or do you have to run outside and ... release? Yeah, disturbing question, but I've asked worse. :D
!naheka!