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piosenniel · 06-25-2003, 05:52 PM

Durelin's post

"You're lucky my wooden spoon isn't my favorite pitch fork!" Vernathitia, Head Cook of the Kitchens of Minas Tirith, shouted at the men and women rushing back and forth around her. The kitchens of Minas Tirith were a busy place, especially with guests. Ladies of Dol Amroth, and the Lady Finduilas herself, the woman who was to wed the Steward's son! And the wedding itself was not far away.

"Those red-currant tarts better be in the ovens!" Vernathitia, called Vern by anyone she considered a friend or of higher status, strode over to peer over the shoulder of a young girl with blonde curls at a large pot.

"What are you doing girl!" she screeched in utter astonished anger. "The potatoes should have gone in five minutes ago!"

The girl stared up at the imposing woman with large eyes filled with horror, her knees wobbling. Cowering beneath the gaze she lowered her eyes only to stand there.

"Well what are you waiting for, girl? For the taters to grow legs and leap into the soup?"
As the honey-haired girl jumped to grab the potatoes Vern suddenly gasped. The girl jumped. "The salmon!" she cried. Seeing the girl, Vern turned to her with a reassuring look. "No, not you." The girl relaxed and Vern raced off to the back of the kitchens.

Right next to the strangely curved wall at the back, six large grey fish lay on a polished stone surface. Vern quickly grabbed the fileting knife and attacked one of the fish, pulling out herbs and spices. Then the door behind her opened and two young men came up the stairs from the cellar, carrying large wheels of various cheeses. The two were speaking intently to one another.

"…and you know what the Lady Dryea says," said the taller of the two. He had short dark hair and eyes. "What?" asked the other boy. He was a head shorter and had lighter and longer hair. "She says she's not sure about these ladies who came with the Lady Finduilas, from Dol Amroth," the dark haired one continued, "And she thinks they aren't really from there."

That was all Vern needed. She had never really known the Lady Dryea or any of her retinue, they seemed quite normal to Vern. The Lady Dryea seemed nice enough, and her family had been in Minas Tirith for quite a while. Now these ladies…she'd just have to keep an eye on them. And of course she'd notify the Lady Emilia about this, that was her job. It would do her quite a lot of good if --

"Ow!" she cried. She had cut herself neatly down her finger instead of the fish. "I have to pay attention to my work, then I can worry about giving my information to m'Lady," she mumbled to herself.

"What was that you said, Mistress Vernathitia?" asked the light haired boy carrying the cheese. She had completely forgotten about the two. "Oh do shut up!" she yelled. "And give that bloody cheese to Master Domon!"

[ June 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

06-25-2003, 05:52 PM	#8
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Durelin's post "You're lucky my wooden spoon isn't my favorite pitch fork!" Vernathitia, Head Cook of the Kitchens of Minas Tirith, shouted at the men and women rushing back and forth around her. The kitchens of Minas Tirith were a busy place, especially with guests. Ladies of Dol Amroth, and the Lady Finduilas herself, the woman who was to wed the Steward's son! And the wedding itself was not far away. "Those red-currant tarts better be in the ovens!" Vernathitia, called Vern by anyone she considered a friend or of higher status, strode over to peer over the shoulder of a young girl with blonde curls at a large pot. "What are you doing girl!" she screeched in utter astonished anger. "The potatoes should have gone in five minutes ago!" The girl stared up at the imposing woman with large eyes filled with horror, her knees wobbling. Cowering beneath the gaze she lowered her eyes only to stand there. "Well what are you waiting for, girl? For the taters to grow legs and leap into the soup?" As the honey-haired girl jumped to grab the potatoes Vern suddenly gasped. The girl jumped. "The salmon!" she cried. Seeing the girl, Vern turned to her with a reassuring look. "No, not you." The girl relaxed and Vern raced off to the back of the kitchens. Right next to the strangely curved wall at the back, six large grey fish lay on a polished stone surface. Vern quickly grabbed the fileting knife and attacked one of the fish, pulling out herbs and spices. Then the door behind her opened and two young men came up the stairs from the cellar, carrying large wheels of various cheeses. The two were speaking intently to one another. "…and you know what the Lady Dryea says," said the taller of the two. He had short dark hair and eyes. "What?" asked the other boy. He was a head shorter and had lighter and longer hair. "She says she's not sure about these ladies who came with the Lady Finduilas, from Dol Amroth," the dark haired one continued, "And she thinks they aren't really from there." That was all Vern needed. She had never really known the Lady Dryea or any of her retinue, they seemed quite normal to Vern. The Lady Dryea seemed nice enough, and her family had been in Minas Tirith for quite a while. Now these ladies…she'd just have to keep an eye on them. And of course she'd notify the Lady Emilia about this, that was her job. It would do her quite a lot of good if -- "Ow!" she cried. She had cut herself neatly down her finger instead of the fish. "I have to pay attention to my work, then I can worry about giving my information to m'Lady," she mumbled to herself. "What was that you said, Mistress Vernathitia?" asked the light haired boy carrying the cheese. She had completely forgotten about the two. "Oh do shut up!" she yelled. "And give that bloody cheese to Master Domon!" [ June 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.