[Thinlómien]

After dinner Lingwë sought the man who was to be washing the dishes with him. The man was a young, sturdy sailor with chestnut hair. Lingwë remembered that the other sailors had called him Arron.

When Lingwë caught him and reminded him of their duty, Arron looked miserable. "I hate washing the dishes", he commented as they approached the kitchen door. "You're not the only one", Lingwë assured him, opened the door and pushed the faintly objecting sailor into the kitchen. Then he stepped in and closed the door behind them.

The kitchen was a quite small, ugly cabinet. Except the dishes from the dinner, it was remarkably tidy. On a chair beside a table sat a man. Unlike other cooks Lingwë had seen, this man was thin. He had dark hair and a moustache, but no beard. His skin was nearly pink, and his eyes were something between green and brown. At the moment, he was smiling maliciously to the young men entering his kingdom. "Ah, my dishwashers. Welcome."

Very soon in turned out that 'helping the cook washing the dishes' was actually the same as 'washing the dishes'. The cook pointed them the dishes, gave them a few buckets and a big pot full of hot water and sat back to his chair. When Lingwë looked at him with a puzzled look, he said with a sugary voice: "Sure your mom has taught you to wash the dishes?" Lingwë said nothing and got to work. Soon the cook started whistling a merry tune.

"I'm Arron", Arron presented himself,"I don't believe I know your name, soldier." "I'm Lingwë", Lingwë answered briefly and concentrated on rubbing a nasty stain on a plate. "You're new, aren't you?" Arron continued. Lingwë nodded and continued rubbing the stain. "Don't worry, I'm quite new also", Arron said. Lingwë looked up from the plate and smiled.

"Stop grinning, boys. You're on a serious duty", the cook said with a bored voice. Then he continued whistling merrily.

The endless rubbing and the hot water made both of the dishwashers short-tempered. Lingwë decided he had had enough of the silly whistling. "Begging your pardon, sir, but if this a serious duty, why are you whistling such a merry tone?" he asked the cook, trying not to raise his voice, though he was angry. "Because I'm not in duty, boy. You are", he answered as merrily as ever. Then he continued whistling.

"You're swimming in dangerous waters, my fish-friend", Arron whispered, "never make the cook of the ship you're in dislike you, or even worse, hate you." "Have you never been told that speaking behind one's back is very rude?" the cook asked with a sweet voice.

Arron and Lingwë washed the rest of the dishes in silence.

They had finally washed the dishes and were leaving, when the cook stopped whistling. "What a pleasure was that you helped me with the dishes tonight. I hope I'll see you soon", he said. They wished the cook goodnight.

When the door had closed, Arron said: "I don't wish to see him soon." Lingwë nodded. The cook was the first person onboard he had met and had not liked. He wondered how many other unpleasant acquintances he would have.