Igris and his kitchen crew stared in stunned silence at the scene unfolding before them. Bamsı and Ordo had barged into the kitchen with a massive crash just seconds ago. This sudden, unceremonious intrusion had thoroughly spooked little Estel standing in the corner and left Igris and the elves completely dumbfounded. Now, these two hulking warriors had grabbed two large, freshly baked pizzas and were devouring them with profound passion, not even bothering to slice them. Even more bizarrely, they had stuffed the pizzas with roasted potatoes and rolled them up, creating an entirely new flavor combination of their own making. Faced with this savage art of eating, Igris remained speechless for a moment, at a loss for words.
He thought to himself in despair:
'If Lorenzo saw this, he would probably have either a nervous breakdown or a heart attack...'
After drawing a deep breath, he finally broke his silence.
"Gentlemen, what do you think you are doing?"
Bamsı and Ordo paused, their cheeks stuffed to the bursting point, and looked at Igris. Swallowing the bite in his mouth with some effort, Bamsı spoke with complete nonchalance.
"Nothing, just eating."
Nodding like his friend, Ordo swallowed his chewed food and chimed in.
"You have cooked another wonderful meal, Lord Igris."
Bamsı nodded in agreement with a broad grin on his face.
"Yes, it really turned out great, my lord! Hahahaha!"
Right after this cheerful laugh, he took another bite from the rolled-up pizza firmly clutched in his hand. Watching this carefree scene, Igris briefly sank into deep thought.
'Should I stop them or not?'
Ultimately realizing he could never contend with the men's appetites, he let out a tired sigh and spoke.
"Alright, but we already made enough to feed everyone, you could have eaten with the group. Why are you in such a rush?"
At Igris's question, the duo looked at each other and chuckled softly, but they quickly swallowed bites in their hands before speaking. Licking his lips, Ordo was the first to answer.
"I'm just hungry."
Bamsı nodded, backing him up.
"So am I. We just came from a battle, my lord, I haven't eaten a thing since morning."
Not quite buying that the men were hiding behind such an innocent excuse, Igris narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Is that truly the only reason?"
Plastering the most serious expressions possible on their faces, the duo nodded vigorously and wasted no time taking another huge bite of the food in their hands. Seeing their incorrigible behavior, Igris realized that pressing the issue further was pointless and decided to ignore the situation with a heavy sigh.
"Fine, once you finish what's in your hands, help carry the food."
Relieved by this permission, Bamsı and Ordo nodded and mumbled.
"Alright."
"Got it."
Satisfied with the response, Igris shifted his gaze to Caelthir at the other end of the kitchen counter.
"Could one of you help me prepare a tray? I am going to see the twins."
At Igris's request, Caelthir nodded and turned to Nimreath right next to him.
"You help Igris and prepare the trays for the Lords."
Nimreath nodded in acknowledgment and immediately set to work preparing two separate trays for the patients. Meanwhile, Igris wasn't idle; with an invisible sleight of hand, he carefully stored several pizzas, fresh fruit, beautifully roasted potatoes, honey-glazed carrots, and a small pot of menemen sitting on the side into his inventory. Just as they were about to finish up, a faint but rhythmic noise echoed from the end of the corridor.
Thud-thud-thud-thud...
Hearing these heavy footsteps, Igris dropped what he was doing and looked toward the kitchen door in confusion.
"What is that sound?"
Caelthir and the other two elves in the kitchen also paused their work and stared at the door with curiosity. Caelthir broke the silence.
"It sounds like footsteps."
As the other two elves nodded in agreement, Thalanor, who was trying to focus on his work at the counter, pricked up his ears and offered his opinion.
"Judging by the sound, it's someone short and quite heavy... probably a dwarf."
Hearing this sentence, little Estel let out a deep sigh, as if sensing the impending disaster, and shot a highly accusatory glare at Ordo and Bamsı standing in the corner.
"I knew it..."
Completely ignoring the pointed look the boy threw at them, the two hulking men focused entirely on the kitchen door with highly amused expressions. Igris, on the other hand, had already guessed who the approaching person was, and seconds later, a loud roar echoing through the corridor proved his guess to be spot on.
"STAY AWAY FROM MY FOOD!"
Igris rubbed his eyes in utter exasperation.
"Bombur..."
BANG!
The kitchen door flew wide open with a crash loud enough to strain its hinges. The Elven guards stationed by the door stared at the plump dwarf in shock. Standing on the threshold, breathless and furious, the portly dwarf Bombur scanned the inside of the kitchen with the eyes of an angry bear roused from hibernation. Catching the two culprits red-handed at the counter—who were looking at him with knowing smirks—he roared at the top of his lungs.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!"
Unfazed by the dwarf's sudden outburst, Ordo calmly swallowed the bite in his mouth before speaking.
"We are testing the new dish Lord Igris made."
Bamsı nodded with the same easygoing attitude and joined the conversation while wiping his greasy mouth with a clean cloth nearby.
"He really cooked up something wonderful."
Hearing these words and confronted by the rich, mouth-watering aroma permeating the kitchen, Bombur's gaze drifted to the hot food lined up all along the counter. His mouth watered so intensely in that instant that he momentarily forgot the reason for his furious charge and locked his eyes on the meals. Seeing the man's weakness, Bamsı and Ordo chuckled and continued eating. However, snapped out of his trance by his friends' laughter, Bombur realized the situation and rapidly shifted his focus back to his previous fury.
"I WAS THE ONE WHO ASKED IGRIS TO COOK! THE HONOR OF THE FIRST BITE BELONGS TO ME!"
Faced with the dwarf's bold claim, Ordo raised his eyebrows mockingly.
"Says who?"
Squinting his eyes as if stating the most immutable truth in the universe, Bombur spoke with utter solemnity.
"My great ancestor Durin!"
Hearing this exaggerated answer, Igris's eyebrow began to twitch violently. He grumbled internally in pure rebellion:
'Yeah, right, and I'm the King of Gondor! Durin definitely did not say that!'
Unable to hold back any longer, he shot the dwarf a highly skeptical glare and added.
"Bombur... do you have a death wish tonight or something? First you fall to your knees and beg, and now you are making up quotes in Durin's name. Aren't you afraid Thorin will skin you alive?"
Hearing their King's name, Bombur flinched and paused for a second, but he had no intention of giving up. Quickly composing himself and clearing his throat, he began to give evasive answers like a child cornered.
"Ahem! I don't know what you are talking about... I am talking about Durin the 6th..."
Rolling his eyes at the dwarf's slippery maneuver, Igris chose not to prolong the argument.
"I can't deal with you people..."
He turned around and looked at Nimreath, who had just finished her task. The elf had prepared two wide wooden trays, specifically designed with small legs to be suitable for sickbeds. Igris nodded in satisfaction.
"Thank you, Nimreath."
Nimreath offered a slight, graceful bow in acknowledgment.
"You are welcome, it is us who should be thanking you."
Igris walked over to the table with slow steps, approached the trays, and gently placed them into his inventory. Then, he turned and strolled leisurely toward the exit of the kitchen. Just before reaching the door, he cast one last glance at the three gluttonous men who were still heatedly arguing over the food and warned them.
"Take the food to the group area, and do not dare eat anything other than what is already in your hands!"
Swept up in the heat of their argument, the trio paused for a second upon hearing Igris's voice, nodded absently, and immediately went right back to bickering. Shaking his head at their antics, Igris sighed and stepped out into the corridor.
Turning to the guards waiting just outside the door, he asked.
"Where are the twins staying?"
Knowing the person before him was Igris, the Elven sentry replied with a respectful demeanor.
"On the top floor; take the stairs and turn left."
Making a mental note of the directions, Igris nodded.
"Thank you."
The guard responded with sincere gratitude on his face.
"We are the ones who owe you thanks, Mr. Igris. If anything had happened to the Lords, Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían would have been devastated."
Slightly embarrassed by this heartfelt praise, Igris rubbed the back of his neck bashfully and spoke.
"It really wasn't that big of a deal... anyway, I wish you a good watch. We set aside some of the food we cooked inside for you, you can go and eat."
Having said his piece, he turned his back on them and began to walk away. The grateful voices of the guards followed him.
"Thank you."
Without looking back, Igris raised his hand slightly in farewell and kept moving. He quickly made his way up the wide, ornately carved stairs. Just as the guard had instructed, he turned left and began to walk calmly down the corridor. His hands were comfortably clasped behind his back, and a soft tune hummed from between his lips. However, it wasn't long before he slowed his steps to a halt and glanced over his shoulder.
"What do you want, kid?"
He had noticed the little tail following him like a silent shadow the moment he left the kitchen. At first, he assumed they were simply heading in the same direction and thought nothing of it, but when the boy followed him all the way to the top floor, he became certain the child was trailing him on purpose. Feeling slightly timid at having been caught, Estel stepped forward, scratching his head.
"Well... I am curious about Lord Elladan and Lord Elrohir's condition too... would it be a problem if I accompanied you?"
Igris remained silent for a moment at the child's innocent request, then let out a soft sigh and nodded in approval.
"Sure."
Receiving the permission he had hoped for, Estel quickened his pace with a joyful look on his face and walked up to Igris's side. As the duo strolled comfortably through the quiet corridors of Rivendell, Estel's boundless curiosity finally began to pour from his lips.
"Where is your spatial pouch or ring?"
"I don't need anything like that."
"Then how do you store items?"
"Using a special method."
"Are you a wizard?"
"No, I am a swordsman."
"Where did you learn how to cook?"
"During my travels."
"Have you had a lot of adventures?"
Following this barrage of rapid-fire questions, Igris nodded, reflecting on the past for a moment as he walked.
"Yes, far too many."
Hearing this, Estel's face lit up, and like any child who loves listening to stories, he continued to ask with even greater enthusiasm.
"Were they fun?"
Keeping his steady pace, Igris weighed the memories surfacing in his mind and answered after a brief moment of thought.
"Yes, and no."
Unable to fully grasp this ambiguous answer, Estel asked.
"What do you mean?"
"The journey was fun, but sometimes the things I encountered weren't pleasant at all..."
"Like the island of sacrifice?"
At the sound of that name, Igris jolted in shock as if he had slammed into an invisible wall, stopping dead in his tracks to stare at Estel. The little boy stopped along with him, looking up at Igris with curious eyes, completely oblivious to what he had just triggered. Igris furrowed his brows and spoke.
"Kid, how do you know about that incident?"
Unaware of the gravity of the situation, Estel shrugged with a perfectly innocent expression.
"A bard who came here told the tale. He said the Black Knight executed the Orcs who were eating abducted humans on an island."
At the fairy-tale-like and heavily distorted sentence falling from the boy's lips, Igris's eyebrow began to twitch madly. He stood there for a moment without saying a word. Rebelliously trying to wrap his head around the situation, he thought:
'So my stories have reached the ears of a ten-year-old Aragorn, living completely isolated from the world in Rivendell, have they?'
With this thought echoing in his mind, Igris let out a deep, exhausted sigh, fixed his gaze on the boy, and spoke.
"Kid, aren't you a little too young for such bloody stories?"
Without a hint of hesitation, Estel bravely shook his head.
"No, I've heard worse."
Taken aback by how casually the boy spoke, Igris didn't know what to say for a second and thought to himself.
'What on earth are the elves teaching this kid?'
Then, studying Estel's face carefully in the dim light of the corridor, he fell into a deep dilemma.
'Should I tell him the truth? Should I not? Frankly, Elrond wants him to be the King of Men in the future, which means he probably paints humans as generally good all the time, or perhaps he never mentions their wickedness, their dark side...'
While Igris stood there in silence, Estel noticed this strange pause and tilted his head to the side curiously.
"Are you okay?"
Igris closed his eyes and sighed once more.
'Forget it,' he thought. 'It will be much better for him to know the darkness of humanity now and act with caution. There are too many variables in this world, too many dangers. It is to Aragorn's benefit to be prepared for these truths at a young age.'
Having made this internal decision, he opened his eyes and looked down at Estel, speaking in a voice that was perfectly calm yet equally cold, bearing the heavy weight of the truth.
"Kid, you are mistaken about one thing."
Eager to know what he had gotten wrong in the bard's tale, Estel asked.
"About what?"
Maintaining the strict seriousness on his face and the icy tone of his voice, Igris stated the raw truth.
"The ones sacrificing and eating humans and dwarves on that island weren't Orcs."
Confused and bewildered by this sentence, Estel looked up at him and asked.
"If not Orcs, then were they monsters?"
Plunging a bitter reality right through the child's innocence, Igris slowly shook his head from side to side.
"No... They are human"
The moment the meaning of those words echoed in the little boy's mind, the curiosity vanished from Estel's face, instantly replaced by pure, unadulterated horror. His eyes widening like saucers, he shouted in a breathless whisper.
"WHAT!!"