The world was silent, even though he knew there were noises louder than
horn calls echoing around the room. He could see them coming, coming for
him and one would get him. But which one? The one with big red eyes? No, it
has an arrow in its neck. The one with no ears? No, that one's skewered on
Boromir's sword. But the one with a broken nose, that one had got past
Boromir, it was coming for him, it would get him. But not if he went for it
as well.
He charged with his sword aimed in front, he would get this orc. He hit the orc with a jolt, his small sword was carving its way through slowly but surely.
"Harder than that Pippin dear, how do you expect it to go frothy if you're only stirring it? You need to beat it hard!" Pippin's mother took the bowl from him and began beating it with a calm and controlled violence.
"Mummy! You'll hurt the egg!" said Pippin.
"Now now Pippin, the egg's loss is your gain; either this egg gets beaten or you go hungry."
Either this orc gets beaten or you get cleaved in half. Thought Pippin in a mockery of his mother's wisdom told to him over a decade earlier and many times since in many different forms. The orc's eyes were bulging and it looked down upon its slayer but Pippin didn't look up, he carried on pushing.
"Harder again Pippin! You need to flatten it! And nothing about hurting the dough, I think we've beaten and sieved it enough to say that it won't mind a little more." Pippin smiled up at his mother as he pushed the rolling pin on and gradually spread the biscuit dough out the way he wanted it. "Good, but now we have to cut it."
That was good, the orc seemed temporarily immobile, but that wouldn't have killed it, he needed to stab it again. He pulled his sword out, it was now slick with blood and before he could give the orc a chance to react, he plunged it back in higher up.
"One hard shove is all it needs, wiggle it a little then it should come out easily." Eglantine helped her son push the round metal pastry cutter into the dough and then empty it out onto the baking tray. Pippin soon got the idea and tried a few himself, though they were not so successful as with his mothers help, the didn't come out quite the right shape.
Pippin moved away from the orc's body, it wasn't quite as limp as Pippin would have liked it but already the hordes were fleeing from the fierce defenders of Balin's tomb. Pippin and Merry took their chances and ran for the door.
"They're not the right shape daddy!" Pippin complained to his father, who picked a little of the uncooked dough up and popped it into his mouth.
"It's tastes good enough though, I'm sure." Pippin was still disappointed with his first try at cooking. "It doesn't matter that they're a bit out of shape, you're not meant to be a master cook from the start. There's a first time for everything lad!"
A/N: Oh would you look at that? It's 2004! Happy new year everyone!
He charged with his sword aimed in front, he would get this orc. He hit the orc with a jolt, his small sword was carving its way through slowly but surely.
"Harder than that Pippin dear, how do you expect it to go frothy if you're only stirring it? You need to beat it hard!" Pippin's mother took the bowl from him and began beating it with a calm and controlled violence.
"Mummy! You'll hurt the egg!" said Pippin.
"Now now Pippin, the egg's loss is your gain; either this egg gets beaten or you go hungry."
Either this orc gets beaten or you get cleaved in half. Thought Pippin in a mockery of his mother's wisdom told to him over a decade earlier and many times since in many different forms. The orc's eyes were bulging and it looked down upon its slayer but Pippin didn't look up, he carried on pushing.
"Harder again Pippin! You need to flatten it! And nothing about hurting the dough, I think we've beaten and sieved it enough to say that it won't mind a little more." Pippin smiled up at his mother as he pushed the rolling pin on and gradually spread the biscuit dough out the way he wanted it. "Good, but now we have to cut it."
That was good, the orc seemed temporarily immobile, but that wouldn't have killed it, he needed to stab it again. He pulled his sword out, it was now slick with blood and before he could give the orc a chance to react, he plunged it back in higher up.
"One hard shove is all it needs, wiggle it a little then it should come out easily." Eglantine helped her son push the round metal pastry cutter into the dough and then empty it out onto the baking tray. Pippin soon got the idea and tried a few himself, though they were not so successful as with his mothers help, the didn't come out quite the right shape.
Pippin moved away from the orc's body, it wasn't quite as limp as Pippin would have liked it but already the hordes were fleeing from the fierce defenders of Balin's tomb. Pippin and Merry took their chances and ran for the door.
"They're not the right shape daddy!" Pippin complained to his father, who picked a little of the uncooked dough up and popped it into his mouth.
"It's tastes good enough though, I'm sure." Pippin was still disappointed with his first try at cooking. "It doesn't matter that they're a bit out of shape, you're not meant to be a master cook from the start. There's a first time for everything lad!"
A/N: Oh would you look at that? It's 2004! Happy new year everyone!