The Cake, a double drabble for Aragorn's Birthday

Gilraen glared at the cook and stamped her foot in frustration.  "I am not asking you to make a cake for tonight; I am going to make the cake myself.  I just need a bit of table space, flour, sugarloaf, leavening, eggs and some soured milk, a baking pan and to be left alone to work."

"You are Master Elrond's guest—"  The ellon protested, wiping his hands on the linen towel that was tucked into the top of his apron.

"I am Estel's mother, and today is his birthday!"  The mortal took a deep breath.  "He cannot have what he wants most, but I will make today special for him none the less."  Bright tears glimmered in her eyes as she remembered her young son wishing on the stars the night before that 'papa would come home soon'.  "If you will not grant me space in your kitchen, I will go down the valley and find a farmer's wife willing to loan me the use of her hearth."

That night, when Gilraen presented the soft white cake that was drizzled with honey and sprinkled with finely powdered sugar, Estel sat in his new Ada's lap and clapped his hands.