262. Of failures, stubbornness and a little bit of peace

Cassandra Pendragon 

The early morning sun just barely broke through the smudged windows, painting the battlefield, I had turned the caboose into, in gold and crimson. Between pans and boards, knifes and pots, I placed my hands on my hips and inhaled deeply, nearly choking on the greasy smoke, the galley had filled with. Sweaty and decidedly annoyed I tossed out the fifth burned omelet I had produced in well over an hour. I had risen early, sneaking out of our cabin like a burglar in the dead of night. Everything had gone well, I had managed to extract myself from Ahri's embrace without waking her and made my way through the ship, listening to the resounding snores, reverberating through the darkness. My intention had been simple: I had asked my fiancée out and had never delivered. To make up for it, I wanted to serve her breakfast in bed. 

Nothing fancy, eggs, bacon, fruit, maybe a bit of porridge, but as it turned out, if you had never swung a ladle before in your life, even cracking eggs and frying bacon became a demanding chore. Never mind baking bread. That particular undertaking I had abandoned almost as soon as I had started. I simply had no idea how to turn flour into something edible. Water? Milk? Yeast? Knead it? Beat it? No way in hell I'd have figured it out within a week, never mind a few hours. Luckily, I had already expected a bit of trouble, hence the early rise.

Determined but slightly anxious, I started over, adding copious amount of butter to a pan and strips of cured meat to another. The sixth time would be the charm. I was sure of it. Well, maybe not quite sure. Confident, or rather hopeful, might have been more accurate. My thoughts wandered while the fat started sizzling and drowned out the stench of my last, disastrous attempt. Who could have guessed, that one side could turn into charcoal while the other was still soggy?

I grinned sheepishly, when I recalled the hour before turning in, when we had finally been alone. I had been determined to tell her everything I had seen, everything I hadn't had the chance to bring up, but as soon as she had slipped out of the dress, Lyra had made for her, my noble intentions had been nothing more than a blurry memory, nowhere near powerful enough to even delay the rush of heat and desire Ahri's presence had ignited in my chest. We hadn't spoken another word until we had finally dozed off, entwined like two ancient trees, growing side by side. Back on the island, the girls had offered me more warmth and comfort than I deserved, but it hadn't been until I had rested in her arms, that the spectres of the night before had finally left me alone.

Today, I'd spend with my family. We'd finally begin the training routine we had promised Reia, which was going to be a golden opportunity for me to sift through the crystals, Mephisto had left behind, while the vixen was getting her fur tanned. I also wanted to make sure, the two barmaids I had saved were fine. Their house, fortunately, wasn't close enough to Alassara's home for the ritual to have reached them, but I still wanted to know. And then, there was Elyse Brightblaze, whom I had promised a visit. I wasn't exactly looking forward to a meeting with a bunch of racist bigots, but it was necessary. Even from the harbour, at this ungodly hour, I could hear the faint echo of strive and battle, the delicate balance in Free Land crumbling. Too many had died, too many leaders had been killed and now, the city was starting to tear itself apart. I couldn't allow it. 

But first, I somehow had to turn this mush of yolk and egg white into something edible, a task that, again, proved to be almost beyond my capabilities. Damn it, I had burned the batch, while I had been staring into nothingness. Cursing colourfully, I scraped the dark, smelly mass out of the pan and into a barrel, that already contained the remnants of my previous failures. The cats were going to have a field day. At least the bacon wasn't black, just yet. Oh, well. One more try, then. On the plus side, I had never gotten far enough to add the chopped vegetables, so there was that.

Another embarrassing half hour later, I had finally managed to produce something that looked and smelled almost like an omelette, even though it wasn't pretty, by any stretch of the imagination. Once I had actually finished cooking, I had realised, getting the meal out of the pan and onto a plate without utterly scrambling it, was about as difficult as inventing temporal magic. By my estimation, I was better suited to the latter than the former, considering how much trouble I had had with assembling a half decent porridge. No wonder my mom had never really cooked. If I had inherited her skills, she would have killed us all during infancy, if she had tried. Should I ever get the chance to settle down, I'd have to make sure to hire a proper chef. For all our sakes. Honestly, uncounted millennia of existence and I had never even fried an egg? Apparently, since there hadn't been the slightest bit of info during my ordeal and as I was now, I should have been able to access most skill related knowledge of my previous life. Not having to eat had its downsides.

Torn between frustration, due to my obvious lack of talent, and a mild hint of pride, I marvelled at the final result. On a tray, I had managed to arrange two bowls of porridge, a teapot, a plate with crunchy bacon strips and an omelette, containing tomatoes, cheese and spring onions. I had even cut a handful of pears and blueberries without sustaining more than a shallow cut. Considering my efforts, it was a meagre result, but it didn't smell half bad and as far as I was aware, copious amounts of pepper and chilli powder could cover up most mistakes. I bit my lip and prayed to god, that I wasn't going to inadvertently poison the love of my life. That'd make for a remarkable tale. Here lies the immortal, whose only mistake was trying Cassandra's cooking. A beautiful epitaph.

I picked up the tray, my eyes roaming over the chaos, I had created. I had used more kitchenware than a professional would have needed to feed the entire ship and the amount of ingredients I had wasted was hilarious, sad but hilarious. Normally, I would have cleaned up after myself, but I wasn't going to allow the fruits of my labour to go cold and start all over again. With a little luck, we'd be finished before anyone else woke up and I'd have plenty of time to hide the traces of my folly. And if the stars truly smiled upon me, someone else would stumble in here and get started, beforehand. Call me lazy, but somehow I didn't believe I'd turn out to be more skilful when it came to cleaning, than I was in regards to cooking.

I shook my head, grinning at my own expense and carefully tiptoed my way through a maze of stoves and cupboards. When I had nearly reached the door, it suddenly flew open. I jumped in surprise, contorting my limbs to prevent bacon and fruits from flying everywhere. In a truly artistic pose, almost doing the split, my tails wrapped around a counter, I stared at a wide eyed dwarf in a white nightgown with a pointy sleeping hat covering his hair. Xorlosh blinked, dumbfounded, his eyes gradually travelling from the tray I had saved to my body. Right… I hadn't bothered putting on any clothes, beside a wide shirt, it had been the middle of the night, after all. I hadn't expected to be gone for more than half an hour. At least I had donned an apron…

As if on cue, we both blushed simultaneously and he turned away, clearing his throat, while I hastily rearranged the coarse garment to cover everything essential. "You can turn around," I finally mumbled, still red like a beetroot. It wasn't the first time I had flashed one or several, for that matter, of our companions, but, usually, it was because my clothes had been torn to shreds in a fight. I didn't have that excuse now and it made me unbelievably embarrassed, which in turn irked me even more. It wouldn't have been half as bad, if I had been able to simply shrug it off.

"Lass," he rumbled with a wink, "I do appreciate your beauty, just as much as everyone else, who isn't blind, but if yah don't want us to keel over, one by one, yah should at least wear pants." He theatrically folded his hands above his chest and added: "me heart might just give out, otherwise." I rolled my eyes, gradually regaining my bearings.

"And I thought I was doing you a favour. Get the blood pumping in the morning, you know?"

"Ah, well, that you did." He took in the scene of devastation around me and asked: "do I even want to know what you've been up to?" I raised my tray innocently and replied:

"Breakfast?" I didn't know, why it sounded more like a question than an answer, but unfortunately, it did. Projected confidence could only get you so far.

"Did you kill and butcher the pig for the bacon in here," he wanted to know, while he slowly turned on the spot. "No matter, you can tell me all about your epic battle, later. I just wanted to grab meself a slice of ham, anyways, before looking for you and yours. I just received message. Your brother we'll be here within an hour or two. The storm last night blew them off course, but they're close. They expect to see the island within the hour." Momentarily stunned, I almost dropped my tray. Arthur… I had almost forgotten that he was on our tails. It had been years since last I had last seen him and honestly, I didn't even know, what I was supposed to feel. I definitely wasn't the same girl anymore, who had cried, when her brother had left and I couldn't even begin to imagine, what he'd say, once we were going to meet. I wasn't even convinced he'd recognise me. From his point of view, he had left a child and now, I was an adult. Not only that, but I had turned into something else, entirely. Would he even believe, I was his sister?

"Lass," Xorlosh asked, while a warm and heavy hand landed on my shoulder. "Are you alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost. Anything wrong?" I slowly shook my head.

"No… not really. That's great news, actually." I forced a smile on my face and continued: "we dearly need the help and I'm… I'm looking forward to seeing him again, him and the children. Did they run into any more trouble?"

"Nothing they've bothered telling me. I… right, you haven't heard, yet. They came across the wrecks of Free Land's fleet. It… it wasn't pretty. They had to finish off the survivors." My eyebrows rose but he only shrugged. "Nasty business, as you can imagine. I'll tell you the whole story, if you want, but we'll have to bring each other up to speed, anyways. Why don't you carry that tray of yours to your girl, put on some clothes and meet me in an hour on deck? I'll wake me lads and you can knock on the other doors. It'd be a shame to waste all of your hard work."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Only a little, but you got to admit, it's not everyday, that making breakfast for two results in," he gesticulated towards the chaos behind me, "this. You've never had to prepare a meal before, have you?" I nodded grudgingly. It was stupid, but my pride stirred. I didn't like being unable to spoil my girl and, if given the chance, I'd try to learn. She deserved it.

"Pretty much. Is it that bad?" He paused for a moment, his jaw dropping to the floor, before he broke into rumbling laughter.

"Dunno about the meal," he gasped, "but turning the galley into a pigsty to fry a handful of eggs is remarkable. Why, even me gormless cousin wouldn't have managed and he's banned from the caboose for life." Without asking, he snatched a slice of bacon and added: "it's crunchy, though and not badly seasoned. Who knows? Give it a couple of years and you might even be able to cook a decent meal. Just… don't practice onboard me ship, would you, lass?"

A few minutes later, I snuck through the door to our cabin, still mildly irritated, but my mood improved tremendously, as soon as I stepped through. Ahri was still asleep, her long, pale, slender legs poking out from beneath the covers, her hair, sparkling in the morning light, a silky flood around her face, almost like a halo of molten silver. When I closed the door behind me, she stirred and her glowing eyes opened, mesmerising me as thoroughly as they had the night she had transformed. She stretched like a cat, causing the covers to slip and me to ogle her shamelessly.

"Good morning," she smiled. My stares didn't bother her one bit, she even posed provocatively for me, before she sat up. "Hmm, something smells delicious. Did you make breakfast?"

"Why do you sound so surprised," I asked, as I strode to the bed, pushed the table closer, placed the tray on it and poured tea. I kissed her cheeks and added: "I'll have you know, I'm an amazing housewife." Her eyebrows vanished under he bangs and a look of mild incredulity spread across her beautiful face. She caught my chin and stole another kiss.

"Alright, maybe I'm not," I admitted, "but I try. And it's still warm." With as much grace as I could muster, I filled her plate and handed it over. I waited on tenterhooks for the verdict, while she slowly chewed her first mouthful. Apparently, I hadn't done too badly, she was still smiling, after all. "How is it," I couldn't stop myself from blurting out. She sighed contently.

"As long as you've made it, I don't really care," she replied with a wink. "Thanks, darling. I could really get used to mornings like this. If you want my honest opinion on the food, though, I really like it, but you went a little overboard with the spices."

"Really," I tasted a bite myself and my eyes began watering the very moment, the warm egg touched my tongue. A little overboard my ass. Volcanoes didn't hold a torch to my creation. Coughing, I swallowed a sip of tea and mumbled: "I see what you mean. Maybe I shouldn't have ignored the skull, someone painted on the box of chillies." She laughed merrily.

"Does that mean I can have yours, as well?" Quietly, I pushed my plate over to her and focused on the porridge. It didn't taste like much, but after the fiery explosion from before, I didn't mind.

"Sure. You know, you don't have to pretend for my sake. How can you eat that?" Maybe I should have added spices gradually and tasted my concoction in between. 

"I like hot food," she shrugged. "I know, with our senses, most don't, but it's still a kind of heat. The older I become, the more I even crave it. If it's up to me, I wouldn't mind eating like this regularly, but judging from the tears in your eyes, that's not going to happen."

"I can try getting my paws on the chilliest I used. You can just nibble on one or add them yourself, but I'm not going to eat those things, ever again. They're evil." I made the sign of the cross. "May god protect us from their heinous presence."

"That's new," she remarked, without lowering her fork. "Did you have another dream?"

"More than one, but could we not talk about our past, or our present, for that matter, right now?"

"Fine by me." She stole a blueberry from my plate and asked: "where did you put the elf girl, anyways? I was pretty out of it, last night, I can't remember."

"She's with Aspera and Astra. I asked and Lyra wasn't against getting to know two of her people. She's surprisingly chipper, considering what she's been through. I imagine she'll have made friends with them before the sun sets."

"Probably. I didn't get to talk to her, I slept all the time, but she's caring enough, she even made me a dress." My gaze roamed to the thoughtlessly discarded garment on the floor and I felt heat, rising in my cheeks. Ahri had seen my reaction and she teased, her eyes sparkling: "or do you prefer what I'm wearing now?" She elegantly rose to her knees and placed her plate back on the table. I swallowed dryly, following her every movement. She came closer, until her breath tickled my skin, the soft light of the rising sun dancing around her, like a swarm of golden fireflies.

"I don't know about you, but, right now, I'm craving something else," she whispered huskily.