Post by Admin on Jan 6, 2021 18:39:27 GMT
Author: BlackShaftedArrow
DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Lord of the Rings; all rights to J.R.R. Tolkien!!
Aragorn wasn’t sure about this idea. Baking wasn’t his strong suit, but Legolas still insisted upon him taking the class. Cake was their first assignment, and the man wasn’t exactly sure how well he was going to do.
Daring Legolas and losing got him into this class, and that didn’t make him any more thrilled about it than he already was. Everyone had laughed when he had said he was enrolling in the baking class, and Aragorn intended to prove them wrong and show them he was just as good as anyone else in this business. Failure was not an option.
Grace of the Valar, be upon me, he thought wearily.
Hoping against hope that his cake would slide cleanly from the pan, he tipped it over on the cooling rack and waited for three seconds before lifting the cake pan again. Impossible, he thought in amazement as the cake plopped neatly from the pan. Joking to himself at how wrong the elves had been, he carefully set the pan aside and admired his work.
Kicking Aragorn underneath the table, Legolas finally caught his gaze.
Laughing was fun for Aragorn, and he tried to smother it when he saw the crumpled mess Legolas’ cake was. Maybe he was just kicking me so I could see how awful his looks, he thought jokingly.
“Now, Aragorn, it isn’t polite to laugh at others’ work,” their instructor told him sternly.
Offering the elf his apologies, he ducked his head humbly and continued with cutting into his cake to taste it.
Perfect, he thought as he saw the moist insides of the vanilla cake. Quailing slightly in fear, Aragorn finally popped a piece into his mouth. Rush to the sink; that was the first thing he did.
Splattering crumbs onto the floor, Legolas gave a little yelp and let his fork clatter back to the plate; quickly joining Aragorn at the sink where they promptly spit out the pieces of cake.
“Too bad,” Aragorn said quietly as he returned to his table, “That was a good cake, too.”
“Usually, a cake that you spit out is not exactly considered good,” Legolas muttered with dry humor.
Vivaciously, Aragorn glared at his friend.
Would that be Aragorn’s last cake: no, it would not. Xylophones make better music than Aragorn can make cakes, and the man knew that. Yes, he was hoping it would be his last cake, but his instructor thought otherwise.
Zealously, the teacher assigned them another cake the next morning.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Lord of the Rings; all rights to J.R.R. Tolkien!!
Aragorn wasn’t sure about this idea. Baking wasn’t his strong suit, but Legolas still insisted upon him taking the class. Cake was their first assignment, and the man wasn’t exactly sure how well he was going to do.
Daring Legolas and losing got him into this class, and that didn’t make him any more thrilled about it than he already was. Everyone had laughed when he had said he was enrolling in the baking class, and Aragorn intended to prove them wrong and show them he was just as good as anyone else in this business. Failure was not an option.
Grace of the Valar, be upon me, he thought wearily.
Hoping against hope that his cake would slide cleanly from the pan, he tipped it over on the cooling rack and waited for three seconds before lifting the cake pan again. Impossible, he thought in amazement as the cake plopped neatly from the pan. Joking to himself at how wrong the elves had been, he carefully set the pan aside and admired his work.
Kicking Aragorn underneath the table, Legolas finally caught his gaze.
Laughing was fun for Aragorn, and he tried to smother it when he saw the crumpled mess Legolas’ cake was. Maybe he was just kicking me so I could see how awful his looks, he thought jokingly.
“Now, Aragorn, it isn’t polite to laugh at others’ work,” their instructor told him sternly.
Offering the elf his apologies, he ducked his head humbly and continued with cutting into his cake to taste it.
Perfect, he thought as he saw the moist insides of the vanilla cake. Quailing slightly in fear, Aragorn finally popped a piece into his mouth. Rush to the sink; that was the first thing he did.
Splattering crumbs onto the floor, Legolas gave a little yelp and let his fork clatter back to the plate; quickly joining Aragorn at the sink where they promptly spit out the pieces of cake.
“Too bad,” Aragorn said quietly as he returned to his table, “That was a good cake, too.”
“Usually, a cake that you spit out is not exactly considered good,” Legolas muttered with dry humor.
Vivaciously, Aragorn glared at his friend.
Would that be Aragorn’s last cake: no, it would not. Xylophones make better music than Aragorn can make cakes, and the man knew that. Yes, he was hoping it would be his last cake, but his instructor thought otherwise.
Zealously, the teacher assigned them another cake the next morning.