Title: Hot Buns in the Morning
Theme: Dialogue challenge
Elements: a baker, a village, a brick and the word warm
Warning: Potential threat of discipline though not actually carried out.
Summary: The heirs of Elessar and his Steward run amok before dawn. Catastrophe ensues.
Word Count: 217
"Who threw that brick?"
It wasn't me it wasn't me it wasn't me...yes it was, but I didn't mean to...
"Yes, Master Cemendur."
His eyes are staring me through...those blue eyes like Uncle Legolas, so clear and knowing...
"What did you think you were doing, young prince?"
I hate it how he seems to know everything.
"I was just...er...well, you see, it was...um..."
"I am waiting, my scapegrace princeling."
At least he doesn't say 'naughty'. Not that this is much better. I'm twelve, why must he look at me that way!
"Well...you see, Master Cemendur, I was...running."
"Running. I can see that. You were running from whom? To where?"
"Just....Elboron was chasing me through the village because we wanted to be the first to get the buns warm from the oven. And we were playing with the brick."
Now I feel so foolish.
"Buns warm from the oven. Well, if hot buns are the order of the day for you and your gwador, I can soon see that delivered."
I do not like that look, not at all.
"Do not stand there with your mouth agape, Prince Elboron. It was most unseemly of you to stand back and let your gwador tell the tale. Come inside, both of you."