Twelve

            “We shall need a dozen fresh eggs if I am to bake honeycakes for your birthday feast,” Meliangiloreth advised Estel.  “Now go!”

            He returned from the poultry runs within half an hour, covered with dust and feathers, a basket of eggs in hand.  After a thorough bath and clean festival garb he was back in the kitchens as the first twelve cakes came from the ovens, followed soon after by many more.

            At the feast Estel’s uncle was amazed to see the boy eat twelve all by himself!  Elrond sighed, explaining, “I fear your nephew gorges himself on Meliangiloreth’s baking.”