Ninthe: Do the disclaiming thing.

Erestor: *scowl* Why should I?

Ninthe: Because even though I'm not your master, I will take away all your privileges in my library.

Erestor: *gasp* Okay, okay. Ninthe doesn't own anything of the Lord of the Rings.

Ninthe: Good boy. Here's a book.

Oh, and check out the new story of mine; Strawberries. :)

Glorfindel never fails to amaze me. His unfailing-to-be-cheery-on-the-worst-days attitude is one thing, but cooking? That's an entirely different matter only explored by those suicidal enough to do it. He set the kitchen on fire.

How do you set a sink on fire?

No, scratch that.

How do you set a water-filled sink on fire? While the water was running?

Basically; how do you set water on fire?

I sat down next to a singed Glorfindel, with a very pissed Elrond across from us both. I opened my mouth to say something, but the golden block of idiot cut me off.

"Elrond, I can explain."

Oh great.

"We were just cooking for Elladan and Elrohir because they were hungry…and…"

"You set the kitchen on fire," Elrond finished.

I knew Elrond hated sarcasm, but it just slipped through my mouth. "Technically, the kitchen caught on fire. We didn't do it on purpose."

"I know Elladan and Elrohir were hungry…but surely you could have asked the cook to prepare something to their tastes?" the lord of Rivendell reasoned. "Why; where did you get the idea to step towards the kitchen? Heck, why did you even think about cooking?" He took in a breath. "And, Glorfindel! I thought you detested fire!"

"I detest cranky twins even more," Glorfindel retorted.

Elrond blinked; he was thinking exactly what I thought he was thinking. The blond oaf hated fire more than he hated Sauron; oh, Valar, he'd kiss the Mouth of Sauron if it was to escape the accursed fire. So, the twins must have been horrible for Glorfindel to want to even be near fire.

The lord sighed. "I must apologize on the twins' behalf. They are only elflings, and I cannot imagine where they got that trait of theirs…"

Yeah. I can't imagine either. Nothing like a drunk Elrond dancing with a foal. Then declaring that he wanted a romantic setting with candles only. Glorfindel had been scared out of his mind.

Speaking of Glorfindel, the big dork was starting to receive some backlash from using flint. I had told him that I could light the fire, but nooo. The fool just had to insist that he could light the godforsaken fire.

"I suppose I should get a replacement kitchen, meanwhile. We have a feast this evening and Thranduil must be shown that Rivendell is a respectable place, unlike that spider den he calls a kingdom!"

"The little prince Legolas will be there as well, I presume?" I said.

Glorfindel snickered. "Come off of it, Erestor; the little kid finds you as absolutely gullible and fitting for a target on an archery field. I still remember when you decided to be festive for once and ended up getting shot in the rear…"

"Glorfindel, I will set fire to every last one of your possessions."