Absence Makes the Tart Grow Sweeter

In the heart of Ninraih's jungles, the Fae created the city of Ajteire, protected from the undead by the magic of fireflies and a pact with the Kerasoka. The complex network of trees, vines, and plants helps to keep unwanted visitors out. Read more...
Post Reply
User avatar
Colle Mellifera
Event MVP
Pastry chef
Level
03
46 / 46 HP
42 / 42 MP
0p / 0g / 1s / 50c
Race: Fae
Class: Alchemist and Summoner
Posts: 67
Joined: December 28th, 2019, 7:16 am
Has thanked: 2 times
Been thanked: 2 times

Absence Makes the Tart Grow Sweeter

Post by Colle Mellifera »

Day One

Colle watched Harroc leave with Chloe. They still felt concerned about the situation, but Harroc had promised - in front of other people - to come back. They hadn’t known Harroc to break his word, so they trusted that he would return to them.

Zalai finished the last of his tea. “I’ll be sure to have the Rangers in touch regarding repayment.”

“Certainly. The owner of the cafe should be in today, and I have - well, more accurately, Harroc had - an idea she may be interested in, that might foster a partnership between the cafe and the Rangers. Meat for tea and pastries,” Colle explained. “I will have to get her input first before anything else can be done.”

He nodded. “Let me know then. If there’s another trade that would be more beneficial, we can discuss that later.” Picking up his two canteens of tea, Zalai left the cafe. Colle collected the plates and cups from the tables, bringing them back to the kitchen.

Realizing what time it was, Colle threw together the quiche filling - eggs, cheese, potatoes, and a handful of other vegetables - before filling two crusts and sliding them into the oven. They felt the burn on the underside of their arm flare as the heat hit it. Idly, they wished they’d thought to ask Harroc for some of his healing berries. Something to ask for if - no, when, they corrected themself - he returned.

They’d just brought the first two quiche out of the oven when the first of the regulars walked in. Yonatan was plenty capable of handling the trickle of patrons, they considered, and decided to catch up on dishes before any rush started. The dishes were done by the time Yonatan came back for the first slices of quiche.

Colle made another two quiche by late lunch time. That left them with two more pastry shells. Might make a pie or two, depending on what was in the cold storage. They shrugged and prepared dough for moon crescents and possibly more berry pockets, if the demand seemed to keep up.

The back door opened and Colle turned to see who was coming in. “Juncea, how good to see you!” They left their dough on the work table to greet the older Fae woman.

“Ah, ‘tis good to see you too, child. I’ve heard we’ve a lot to talk about.” She raised her eyebrows, but smiled. Yonatan came into the kitchen to grab more quiche. “Hello there, lad,” she said, waving at him.

“Good to see you, Miss Juncea,” Yonatan replied with a smile, as he plated the quiche and hustled back out.

“So lively you all are,” she commented. Colle washed their hands and took off their apron, pulling their notebook out of the pocket.

“Would you like to sit at a table, Juncea? I think we’ve got one around the corner that should be quiet,” Colle said. “Otherwise, I’ve got the uncomfortable stool and the work table.” They gave her a wry smile.

“I’ll take the table, Colle. My old bones won’t let me perch on that stiff old thing,” she said, gesturing to the corner where the stool sat. Colle led her out to the floor and around the corner where it was quieter.

“I appreciate the concern for my comfort, Juncea. There’s no way you could be old,” they said with a wink.

“Flatterer,” she laughed. “Now, tell me - what was the dust-up with Semolina?”

Colle grimaced. “That, well, I should have caught that sooner. What I thought was going on was that Sema didn’t like me. I’ve come across that before, and as long as it didn’t affect her work, I didn’t see any reason to raise an issue.” Their wings fluttered a bit nervously, twitching slightly.

“I heard she screamed at you in front of patrons that you were ‘confused and perverted’ for being who you are,” Juncea said with a frown of displeasure. “Had I known she thought of you that way, I would have never suggested she join the staff.” Her wings were displayed openly, showing her disgust at the situation.

They shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve had that thrown at me. You know that. What bothers me is that apparently she was treating patrons with a heavy-handed attitude. Poppy said that several people told her about times that Sema had been unpleasant to them.” Colle sighed. “That’s what I should have caught sooner - that it wasn’t just me she treated poorly.”

Juncea reached out a hand to set on Colle’s. “I think you were so busy looking for the good in her that you didn’t see the bad. It’s a lovely trait to have, child, but temper it with the ability to step back and see the whole.”

They held her hand in both of theirs. “I feel like I let you down, Juncea. I should have seen her - inflexibility.” Flapping softly, their wings drooped slightly. “And I know I’ve told you before, but I still really appreciate the fact that you took me on as who I am, not who you thought I should be, and then trusted me to handle more and more here.” Clearing their throat softly, they continued, “That’s why I hate that I didn’t catch Sema, and that her actions could have reflected poorly on the cafe. I’m sorry about that, Juncea.”

She sat there for a moment, silently, as Colle watched the light play off her wings flapping gently. “Although I would accept your apology, as sincerely as you’ve given it, I must confess I feel partly responsible as well.” She looked at Colle with a wry grin. “Call it a draw?”

“Sure. I’ll try to spend more time observing the cafe floor, especially with new people, and hopefully we can nip this in the bud should a similar situation happen again.” Colle flipped in their notebook for more things they had meant to discuss. “Oh, I should let you know, I created a new pastry for the cafe called-”

“Cat’s paw, with honey glaze. Yes, I heard about that,” she said, her deep blue eyes twinkling. “I heard there was a certain shifter you were trying to impress.”

“Um,” started Colle.

“So, did it work?” Juncea leaned forward eagerly, like a schoolchild on the trail of gossip.

Colle blushed red. “Very well, I admit. Although he might deplete the local hives of honey - he loves that glaze.”

Juncea smiled slyly. “And you?” Colle looked away, smiling, and Juncea burst into laughter. “I told you, best way to a man’s - or woman’s - heart is through their stomach. Good for you.”

“He works with the rangers sometimes - he’s a druid. He just left today on a trip into the wilds, or I would have asked him to stay and meet you.” Colle remembered Harroc’s suggestion. “Oh, he made an interesting suggestion, that we expand the cafe’s offerings to include things like meat pies. He thinks he can convince the Rangers, and as a hungry group of them were here this morning, it might be to everyone’s benefit. However, I don’t know if we’re really set up to handle meats,” Colle said, pointing out the main drawback.

Thinking, Juncea put her head against her hand, resting her elbow on the table. “If it were cooked meat, the potential for contagion would be much lower. I’m not sure if they would be willing to butcher and cook.”

Colle scribbled down a quick note in their notebook to check. “I can certainly ask.” Juncea nodded as they wrote.

“Any other issues?” she asked. Colle went over a quick overview of what had been moving, what had not, and minor things that came up in the course of running a business.

“Also, I had one of our children’s books damaged by liquid - Harroc was kind enough to fix it. It looks brand new, Juncea. I’d like to see if we can find someone who could fix our books - just the normal wear and tear starts to get to them after a while - or if I could learn that - and go through the collection. It would certainly help the books last longer.” Colle’s wings fluttered quickly; they hated having books damaged. Harroc had mentioned the possibility of teaching them, but they didn’t know if there was a different spell for druids or if they could learn what he wanted to teach.

Juncea pursed her lips. “That would indeed be helpful. If you or any of the staff could fix books, that would be ideal; if not, perhaps we can find an enterprising young person willing to tackle the project in exchange for pastries?” She grinned at Colle, who returned her grin with one of their own.

“Never heard of such a thing, Juncea. Next you’ll be telling me there’s youngsters willing to clean in exchange to learn baking and being in a cafe,” they said slyly. Juncea chuckled.

“Your enthusiasm was infectious, even as a little thing. I was so proud of you when you decided you wanted to study pastries as a chef. And then to come back and work in the cafe.” She reminisced, patting Colle’s hand.

“I wouldn’t have had a chance if you hadn’t taken me under your wing and supported me. Especially when I was - figuring things out.” Colle smiled warmly.

Juncea nodded knowingly. “I told you that you were special. Maybe not always in the ways I first thought, but you have a unique beauty all your own.” She rose, slowly. “Now, let me get one of those cat’s paws and I’ll get out of your hair, child.”

Colle gave her a side-arm hug. “Of course, and stay as long as you like. You’re never going to get in my way.” Juncea laughed as they made their way back to the kitchen. “I’ll even get you extra glaze like I do for Harroc. He’s taken to dunking each bite before eating it,” Colle said over their shoulder as they led her into the kitchen.

They plated one of the pastries and took the same small bowl to fill with glaze for her. As they set it down on the work table for her, she asked, “So when will I get to meet this new man of yours? Harroc, you said?”

Colle leaned back against the counters. “He said he should be back in three or four days. Maybe in a week, I can try to get him in here to say hello,” they mused.

“I look forward to it. He must be special. This is one of your best creations yet,” she commented, dunking a piece into the glaze. “Although goodness, I’m surprised you aren’t having to peel him off the ceiling with this much sweet.”

“Honestly, Juncea, I think he’d drink it straight if I let him,” Colle quipped. “They’ve been popular with many of the patrons, not just Harroc. Some days I’ve had to hold one back or else he wouldn’t have gotten any.”

“Well then, if you aren’t tired of making them-” Colle shook their head. “You might as well consider them part of the permanent menu,” Juncea said. “I approve. They’re excellent.”

“Thank you. I hope the three of us can sit down for a chat soon,” Colle said. “Before I forget - I’ve had people asking about the tea blends. If you don’t mind, I was thinking about a trial run, getting people to sign up before so I don’t waste tea leaves. Then depending on how that goes, possibly offering one or two blends all the time and experimental ones maybe once a month or so.”

Juncea nodded. “Pre-orders are a good way to gauge interest. Try it and let me know.” She got up from the stool. “I hope I’ll see you and your fella soon!” She waved and made her way out the back door.

Colle smiled as she left. Having Juncea in their corner had meant a lot to them - she’d taken a skinny kid with more energy than sense and helped them find their wings, and their feet. Humming happily, they returned to the dough they’d left to sit.

As the afternoon wore on, it became apparent that Zalai had been singing the cafe’s praises. They had a slow but steady trickle of Rangers, in twos and threes, coming in for pastries and tea. Colle started a page in the ledger for the Rangers collectively, and kept a running tally to settle up later.

Yonatan stayed a little later to get Colle through the lunch crowd, but he had plans that afternoon. Colle assured him the cafe would be fine and shooed him out the door. They stretched, wings opening wide. More staff might be a good idea to talk to Juncea about as well. Take the pressure off everyone a bit more.

Colle was more or less doomed to early mornings as the chief baker and only real pastry chef, but maybe they could switch back to mornings only instead of the split shift they’d worked the past several weeks. Poppy probably wouldn’t be pleased to go back to afternoons, but another two or three people would cover the holes left by Sema’s departure and cover all the shifts more easily. They made a note to suggest it.

Once the sun started to go down, Colle tugged the barrier back into place. The last of the stragglers left, depositing their books on the cart. Smiling, Colle saw that there weren’t any books left out, only an odd plate or cup. They gathered the dishes and added them to the pile that had been growing throughout the afternoon.

They missed Harroc helping with the dishes, even when he’d just sat and talked. Finishing up the dishes, they took a quick look around. Nothing out of place. They’d already made a new batch of dough for the chocolate twigs. Colle didn’t really want to head back to an empty house already.

Wait, hadn’t they been discussing exercising and eating healthier with Harroc last night? Maybe they could go over to the training fields. They couldn’t remember if there was help available for exercise plans, but it couldn’t hurt to check it out.

Flying east to the training fields, they found a large map displayed outside a small hut. Looking at the map showed a somewhat vague representation of a sprawling area. Colle ran their eyes over the different places, combat fields, archery, bushcraft, even several replica villages before they spotted a collection of places marked ‘Obstacle Course’.

It looked challenging, but it said it was open to all skill levels, so they figured it wasn’t too horrible. They reminded themself not to ‘cheat’ by using their wings and took off at an easy jog to the first station.

By the second station, they began regretting their life choices. Specifically, the ones that led them to eat more pastry than they really should. They had jumped onto low platforms, pulled themself up on a low branch, and done crunches on an incline. Waiting up ahead were evenly spaced overhead bars, low parallel bars, and things they didn’t even know what the purpose would be.

Colle was out until the moon was high in the sky. There were enough lanterns and fireflies about that they could see what they were doing well enough, until the prospect of completing one more obstacle made them nauseated. Once they made it back to their house, they barely had enough energy left to crawl into the shower and then into bed. They fell into sleep almost as soon as their head touched the pillow. Their rest was quiet and dreamless.
Word count: 2706
User avatar
Colle Mellifera
Event MVP
Pastry chef
Level
03
46 / 46 HP
42 / 42 MP
0p / 0g / 1s / 50c
Race: Fae
Class: Alchemist and Summoner
Posts: 67
Joined: December 28th, 2019, 7:16 am
Has thanked: 2 times
Been thanked: 2 times

Re: Absence Makes the Tart Grow Sweeter

Post by Colle Mellifera »

Day Two

Colle groaned as the sunlight crawled across their face. They pulled themself out of bed, wincing as every muscle complained. As they got dressed, they felt a relaxing sensation creep through their body, unknotting tired muscles and loosening stiff joints. As the sensation faded the strength boost that Harroc had given them seemed to be wearing off a little. Fresh clothing donned, they shambled out the door. It was the first time in a long time they weren’t sure their wings would catch them before they hit the ground.

Once they entered the back door of the cafe, they started on the usual routine: chocolate twigs, fruit pockets, and muffins. This morning, they added in a batch of moon crescents before Corylus came in. He was terribly cheerful in the mornings and Colle was glad they’d steeped a very strong tea for themself this morning. “Good morning, Colle!”he said as he entered.

“Morning, Cory,” they replied back. “Don’t know if you heard, but Sema won’t be with us anymore.” Their wings twitched slightly, still somewhat annoyed by the whole situation.

Cory shrugged. “Don’t see that as a great loss there,” he commented. Colle was taken aback; for someone as relentlessly cheerful to be that blunt, she must have annoyed him too.

“Did you have any issues with Sema? I’d like to know so that hopefully I can spot similar problems quicker next time,” Colle said, mixing together more pastry dough.

“Part of it was how she acted toward you,” Cory admitted. “We don’t always agree, but in general you’re pretty good to work under. You don’t micromanage, you’re flexible, and you pitch in when needed. Seeing her treat you as - incompetent, or backwards, sucked.” He sighed.

“The other part - she wasn’t really that good of a worker. You know how most of the time, if we leave the counter, it’s gathering up plates, checking on patrons, that sort of thing? She almost never did that kind of thing. It was like she thought her job was to be pretty first.”Snorting, Cory shook his head. His wings fluttered dismissively. “She was just a bad fit here.”

Colle considered what Cory had told them, frowning slightly. “I appreciate your feedback, Cory. If anything else comes to mind, let me know as well. I’m going to try to be out front more so that I can interact with the patrons and everyone else more often, and I hope that will help me catch things sooner.”

Setting the dough aside, they pulled the moon crescents out of the oven. “I’ve done the tags for everything else - the usual chocolate twigs, muffins, fruit pockets - you’ll just need to add one for the crescents.” They cleared their throat a bit self-consciously, wings fluttering slightly. “Also, I know we’ve had some requests about the tea blends, so I’m planning to do a trial run of sorts. I’ll leave a sheet at the counter - if I can get 15 people interested in say, two ounces each, then I’ll make a batch-”

“Oh, thank the idols. If I had to field one more question about the teas - uh, sorry.” Cory interrupted, his wings flicking out in slight annoyance. He cleared his throat, pushed his wings down, and said very deliberately, “I think it will be a popular idea.” Colle cracked up, holding on to the work table as they laughed.

“Glad to hear it, then,” they managed. Still giggling slightly, they put the crescents on a platter and took it up front. They took a sheet of paper and set up a form, using their most legible handwriting to do so. They hoped they’d be able to fill the sheet, but at least they wouldn’t waste tea by blending batches no one wanted.

They started the first batch of cat’s paws for the day, mixing a double batch of glaze. Figuring the demand would be higher in the afternoon, they set a second batch of dough aside. Once the paws were out and on the platter, they carried them to the counter and decided to spend time at the front for a bit.

One of the regulars spotted them and waved them over. “Colle, I heard a rumor you were actually offering your tea blends. Is that true?” The Kerasokan woman’s eyes sparkled.

“No rumor. I decided to have a trial run. There’s a sign-up sheet at the front counter if-” The woman got up mid-sentence to practically run to the counter. Colle stood shocked for a moment before slowly walking over to continue the conversation.

“Sorry about that, but I’m glad I went over there. I was number ten.” Several patrons passed her on the way to the counter.

“What-” Colle snatched up the paper. There were two more names past hers already. Their wings popped open in surprise and the woman giggled.

“Hey, no cutting - oh, it’s you, Colle,” someone said. “Can I just-” Colle handed over the paper, dazed. “Yes!” they hissed victoriously. Someone else grumbled as Colle made their way out of the crowd beginning to form.

They walked over to Cory. “So, uh, the tea thing is proving more popular than I expected.”

Cory snorted. “I could have told you this would happen. As many questions as I get every single shift, I’m surprised a fight hasn’t broken out already.” His wings flapped in a slow way that Colle suspected meant ‘I told you so’.

Colle shook their head in disbelief. “I need to do something before this gets out of hand,” they said, nodding to themself as an idea came to mind. They moved back to the general café area and called out a bit to get attention. “Everyone, I’ve been informed the tea blends are a popular idea.” There was a small round of faint cheers and Colle grinned. “So, I have an idea to ensure no one feels left out, but I’m also not buried beneath a mountain of loose tea.” There were several chuckles but most patrons sat quietly interested.

“I’ll bring an experimental batch, enough for twenty patrons, every three days. Each batch will be in rotation for two weeks, and we’ll go down the list. This means there can be up to one hundred of you on the list. If we find more people than that are truly interested, or most enjoyed the batch, there can be discussion of adding the tea to the regular rotation.” There seemed to be a general murmur of agreement. “If we reach a point when a batch is not claimed, I will serve the tea here on the menu. If I can’t manage to serve it, that experiment will end early.” Patrons were nodding their heads and discussing among themselves with an air of excitement.

“Also, we’ll be searching for new staff, if you or anyone you know is interested, please get in touch with me,” Colle said. “Thanks everyone, and I’ll see about getting the signup sheet part two ready.” They turned back to the counter for more paper with the excited buzz of people talking behind them. By the time they got the second form ready, the first fifteen slots had been filled along with another twenty five on the back. ‘There’s the first two batches already,’ they thought.

Thankfully, the tea blend excitement was the only thing that really occasioned any uproar. The trickle of rangers continued, with some clearly coming off duty and others about to go on post. Colle learned that many of them liked to take canteens of tea as Zalai had, and resolved to keep two pots going just for them - at least until they could find a larger tea pot.

By mid-afternoon, Colle had baked several more batches of pastry. They’d paused to wash dishes when Cory came in the kitchen. “Hey, why don’t you go home? I can cover close, and if we desperately need more stuff, I can throw together a batch of muffins.”

“I don’t want to leave you in the weeds,” Colle said, biting their lip. “Wasn’t Sema supposed to be here until close?” Their wings fluttered a bit, unsure.

Cory shrugged. “Yeah, but you’ve been here til close several nights running. I can handle it. Go. You look like you need sleep, anyway.”

“If you’re sure,” Colle said, slowly taking off their apron. “Let me know if you need help. I’ll be either at my place or the training grounds.”

“The training grounds?” Cory raised his eyebrows, wings opening slowly.

“Yeah, there’s a really nice obstacle course there that has all these exercises on it,” Colle said, cracking their neck. “Figured I should try to get in better shape.”

“If you think so,” he shrugged. “Anyway, I got it. See you - tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.” Colle stepped out the back door with a wave. At least now they could do the course in the daylight.

The downside, they found, was that daytime was hotter. Much hotter. Colle panted, sitting down on the incline sit-up bench. 'Idols, how did Harroc manage to work out and do this kind of thing all the time? Two days of this and I feel awful'. They made it through the course slowly and headed home.

The heat of the shower felt good on their muscles, although it also made them feel a little dizzy. They sat on the floor of the shower and managed to scrub most of themself well enough, standing up to rinse. As they walked to the bed they realized they hadn’t meditated in several days.

Annoyed at themself for forgetting, they took up a cross-legged position on their rug at the foot of the bed. They should be able to fit in an hour or so before going to sleep. Sitting there quietly, Colle could feel something circulating in them, warming their muscles. It was faint, but detectable. Maybe it was some of Harroc’s leftover essence? Colle guessed they must have misunderstood Harroc when he said he’d left ‘half’ and that he must have meant half of the boost like he’d given Colle that first day. They smiled, but forced their mind away from diving into those memories.

After about an hour, they opened their eyes and stood up. Still a touch dizzy and headachy, but better, on the whole. Colle crawled into bed and was asleep as soon as they hit the pillow.
Word count: 1784
User avatar
Colle Mellifera
Event MVP
Pastry chef
Level
03
46 / 46 HP
42 / 42 MP
0p / 0g / 1s / 50c
Race: Fae
Class: Alchemist and Summoner
Posts: 67
Joined: December 28th, 2019, 7:16 am
Has thanked: 2 times
Been thanked: 2 times

Re: Absence Makes the Tart Grow Sweeter

Post by Colle Mellifera »

Day Three

Colle rolled over with a groan as the sun came in their window. They felt so tired in the mornings lately. Maybe they’d talk to Poppy and Juncea about switching shifts once they had more people. Putting on work clothes, they found that laundry was going to be a necessity tonight, or else they’d have to wear dirty clothes. Grumbling, they took their usual short flight to work, noticing it was a little tiring.

They were very glad they’d had the same routine for years; they felt like they were running on habit alone. They certainly weren’t thinking about it. Even with strong tea, Colle’s thoughts felt like they were having to dig them out individually. They’d just put in the last batch of muffins when Poppy came in. “Hey Pops,” they said over their shoulder from the kitchen sink.

“Hey Colle. How are you doing? Vera said that Harroc came by and said he was leaving to go to the wilds, but he needed to try on her mock up first.” She put her hand on their shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fi-” Poppy glared at Colle fiercely. “Okay. No, I’m not fine. I miss him. He’s running a route for the Rangers, but he said he should be back tomorrow.” Colle sighed and rested their hands on the edge of the sink. “He said he would have been able to be faster, but the Rangers asked him to take on a student this time.”

Colle closed their eyes. “I thought he’d replaced me, Poppy. He and a bunch of the Rangers came in before going out into the wilds, and next to him is this tall, young, blonde girl who’s stuck to him like a prickerbur.”

“He did not.” Poppy’s eyes flared with anger.

“No, he didn’t.” A small smile played around Colle’s lips. “As a matter of fact, he drug me out of the kitchen and proceeded to make out with me in front of the other Rangers to ‘stake his claim,’ as it was. He almost refused to go out on the run, but I talked him back into it.”

“Why? I would have thought you’d want him to stay. And if anyone needed to see him stake his claim, all they need to do is look at your neck,” Poppy said, poking Colle with a wry smile.

“Oh, I know. No one’s said anything yet, which almost makes me a little annoyed, now that I have a perfect come back. I was, in fact, mauled by a jaguar,” they replied, winking. Poppy snickered, putting her hand on the edge of the work table. “But as for going into the wilds - I took him out back, right, and looking at the woods - it was like it called to him, on a deep level. If I’d told him not to go, I think I would lose him.”

Colle sighed and stretched. “So I’m trying to keep myself distracted until he comes back tomorrow. I don’t know what time; it’ll depend on what he and that girl run into.” Poppy put a hand on Colle’s back and gave them a side hug.

“He’ll be back soon. He loves your pastry and he did seem to care about you,” Poppy said consolingly.

“I know, it’s just - the waiting.” Their wings drooped. “Nothing to be done for it but get through I guess.” Colle cleared their throat. “Oh, and I told the cafe yesterday I’d do a trial run of the tea blends. I honestly thought there’d be a riot until I said I’d do multiple batches. Cory closed last night, so the sheets should be on the counter.”

They checked on the muffins, took them out, and joined Poppy behind the counter. “Um,” she said, handing three sheets to Colle. One was the original sign-up sheet, the second was the part two they’d made, and the third -

“They made a ‘waiting list’? Seriously?” they muttered. “I gave them a hundred spots and they made a fucking waiting list?!”

“I believe I told you the tea blends would be popular,” Poppy said, still a little surprised but now able to chuckle about it. “People are going to bequeath their spots on the tea list to their children now.”

“By the damn idols Poppy. This is ridiculous. This is just me throwing together herbs and flowers and tea leaves and shit together.” They waved the sheets in tight flaps, much like their wings were doing.

“Yeah, well, apparently people like when you throw leaves and shit together,” Poppy said, giggling.

Colle put a hand to their face. “Still fucking ridiculous.”

“And they’re still going to supply the cafe. Maybe we can convince people to trade books?” she mused.

Colle’s wings popped out suddenly. “Poppy, you’re a genius. That would be amazing. We could seriously build up our collection. I could even do a ‘most wanted’ list and offer extra tea for those kinds of books in particular.” Their eyes danced and they jumped in place. “I’m going to go stick these in my bag right now so I don’t forget.”

They dashed into the kitchen and carefully tucked the sheets into their bag. Coming back to the work table, they plated the muffins and brought them to the front counter, where Poppy was removing the rope from the front doorway. “Oh!” she said, surprised to see people already outside.

Colle leaned forward. “Ah, good morning. Rangers?” they asked. Most nodded. “Come right in. Let this lovely lady know what you want and I’ll get the tea going for you all.”

“Please feel free to sit where ever you like,” Poppy said, putting on her practiced waiter face. Coming up to the first table, she asked, “What may I get for you?” Colle hurried inside the kitchen to get tea steeping. They’d need more than two pots, they figured, and put the kettle on. They’d dumped the leaves into the pots when Poppy came back. “Hey, do you have any cat’s paws ready?”

“Fuck!” Colle growled. Of course that’s what they wanted. Harroc and his adorably big mouth. “It’ll take me a bit. Probably half an hour. Ask them if they can wait. Damn. I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“I’ll go ask. I’m guessing this is Harroc’s doing?” Poppy said with a wry smile.

“More or less, he was singing the cafe’s praises-”

“Probably your praises, honestly,” Poppy interjected. “And now we’re probably going to get a bunch of Rangers asking for cat’s paws.”

“That and tea. Several want to fill their canteen before they leave. We’re going to need at least one larger teapot-” they broke off as the kettle whistled. Water poured and replenished, they continued. “If not several. Idols help us if they start getting picky about what blend they get.”

Colle jogged over to the cold storage and pulled out pastry dough. They would have liked to give it more time to rise but there simply wasn’t any. Making the cat’s paws as quickly as they could, they put the first tray in the oven and began collecting ingredients for the glaze, a triple batch.

Poppy came back in. “All but one person is fine with waiting. They said they’ll take muffins for now, and they’ll stop by when their patrol shift is over.”

“Good. I’ll make sure I set one aside.” Colle measured and dumped ingredients feverishly, stirring quickly.

“You need some help there?” Poppy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I got it. Thanks, Pops.” Colle set the bowl on the counter behind them. “Now more dough,” they muttered to themself. They pulled the dry ingredients out and left them on the work table. In the cold storage, they stopped for a minute. The cool air felt nice on their face.

They got the first batch of new dough mixed just before the pastry in the oven needed to come out. They racked the tray, grabbed another, and began putting the pastries on it. Hopefully they’d have time to rise; in this situation, where they weren’t sure how many they needed, they’d usually wait until they were down to a quarter of the batch.

They plated the cat’s paws individually, drizzling the glaze on them, and took several up to the front. Poppy came and grabbed more. Once she’d distributed them, Colle asked, “How many do we have left?”

“Six,” she said with a small frown.

Colle thought for a moment. Usually five was their ‘new batch’ point, but if they were popular, the cafe might need more. On the other hand, this batch really needed the time to rise. “I’m going to wait a little longer to let these rise. Let me know if we get down to, say, four.” They disappeared into the back again, intending to make another batch.

As they reached the table, the world seemed to slide away from them. They grabbed the table and managed to get to their mug of tea. A few sips later they felt - less tilted, at least. They dragged the stool over and sat while mixing the next batch of dough. It wasn’t ideal, but it was workable enough.

“Hey, we’re down to - are you sitting down?” Poppy asked as she came into the kitchen.

“Thanks, Poppy,” Colle said, standing up slowly. They got the tray in the oven and sat back down. “Yeah, just got a touch of dizziness. It’s probably nothing, I’m probably just tired,” they said with a wan smile.

“Just tired my ass,” Poppy said. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Yes,” Colle replied, a tiny bit annoyed. “I’ve also been working out in the evenings, and I meditated last night.”

Poppy put her hands on her hips. “What about food?”

“I usually have stuff while I’m here. The ugly ones,” they laughed. Poppy glared at them, her lips pursed.

“No, when was the last time you had a real meal with vegetables and protein?”

“Uh,” supplied Colle.

“That’s what I thought. You are taking a lunch break and you are going to eat real food. Not random scraps of pastry.”

“And how am I going to get that? I need to bake, you have to run the front.”

“No, you want to bake. You need to get some food.” She frowned at them. “Are you okay enough to get downstairs?”

“I - think so?” Colle honestly wasn’t sure. “Oh, shit, I owe the guy with the grilled meat a loaf of bread or two.” They rose to get the bowl they used for mixing the dough, but Poppy stopped them.

“Get some food first. There’s a place that does soup if you go straight down, turn right, it’s on the left like two down. Once you’ve eaten, then you can bake your bread.”

“But Pops-”

“Don’t ‘but Pops’ me right now,” she said sighing. “Go. I can hold down the cafe.”

Grumbling, Colle left the cafe. They were not going to tell Poppy how far they had to hold the handrail down the stairs. Once down, they spotted the place quickly and ordered a bowl of soup. The restaurant also gave them a mug of spring water, which they drank thirstily. Their waiter had to fetch a refill when he brought the soup over, as the mug was completely empty.

Stomach full, Colle wanted a nap, but they had to admit they felt better. Damn, Poppy was probably going to rag on them for forgetting to eat. They shrugged, walking back up the stairs.

As they opened the door, they heard Poppy say, “I sent them to go eat some real food instead of pastry dough.”

Cory’s voice answered, “I was wondering when they were eating. Do you think they -” Colle stepped into the kitchen.

“I just forgot, is all. I’ve been busy,” they said levelly.

“How was the soup place?” Poppy asked, obviously changing the subject.

“Good choice, their soup was delicious.” They pulled out the bowl for bread baking. “Oh, did you need something?” They raised their eyebrows.

“Nope, just catching Cory up to speed,” Poppy said. Both Cory and Poppy headed back out to the front. Colle frowned; it sounded like Poppy was still talking about them.

They put together the bread dough and left it to rise on the counter. Finding the pastry dough they’d been working on before Poppy had sent them out, they realized that Poppy must have put the last batch into the oven. There wasn’t a tray of unbaked paws anywhere. Colle shrugged and began filling another tray with pastry. They’d probably need four batches - unless more Rangers came in than yesterday.

Thinking, they knew they’d have to work in the loaves of bread too. Fortunately, the recipe they were using was quick, but there was still time needed to rise and bake. They stretched, shook their hands out, and began working on what they hoped would be the last batch of paws.

Colle considered the issue of the first tea blend. They weren’t sure what to do - what if everyone hated it? The sheer number of names did reassure them slightly, but maybe they should start out with something a little more familiar. Lemongrass and spearmint was one of their favorite blends, and adding a light black tea might give it a bit more roundness to the flavor.

“How much more do you have to do?” Poppy was waving her hand in front of their face.

“Oh. This batch and the loaves of bread for now. We could use more bread though, and if we get more Rangers…” Colle said, coming back to what was being asked. “I was thinking about the tea blends, sorry.”

“Okay. Do you think maybe you can do another batch of cat’s paws past that one-” she nodded at the dough they were working on. “And then the loaves?”

“Well, yeah, I’m here until close,” Colle said, good-naturedly puzzled.

“Yeah, about that - I think you should go home early,” she said.

Colle shook their head. “I cut out early yesterday. I shouldn’t do it again. And besides, I’m not really keen on just wandering about at home.”

“You could go home and sleep, or work on your tea, or meditate, or I don’t know, read one of your ten thousand books,” Poppy started.

“Or I can stay here and bake for the cafe and get us well supplied now that the Rangers have found us,” Colle shot back.

“I think we’ll be okay. Cory and I both can make muffins if all else fails,” Poppy replied. “Also, you look like shit, and I don’t want your boyfriend getting mad at me because you overworked yourself.”

“He’d get mad at me, not you, and if the Rangers are coming here for cat’s paws, it’d be bad business to run out of them,” Colle pointed out.

"Colle, you think it would be better if you collapsed and hurt yourself and either the guilt did me in or Harroc ripped me in half when he comes back?" Poppy asked, deadpan, her brow raised in question and a mix of serious glare and amused smile was painted across her face.

They raised their hands in surrender. “Okay. You win. I’ll go home after I finish the loaves.”

Poppy nodded, relieved. “I know you’re trying to keep busy until he gets back - which I’m glad is tomorrow - but don’t be so busy that you forget to eat and sleep, you doofus.”

Colle finished making the batch of cat’s paws and handed the tray to Poppy to put in the oven. They made the second batch and set the tray aside while they shaped the loaves of bread. As soon as the bread had been baked, Poppy took two loaves, wrapped them in a bit of paper, and handed them to Colle while pushing them toward the door.

“I get it, Pops, I’m going! Let me get my bag, at least.” Colle laughed and took off their apron. “I’m going to drop these off and then I’m going home. Promise.”

“You better,” she said, giving them a look that was both caring and reprimanding.

They pulled her into a side-armed hug. “Love ya, Poppy.”

“Love you too, you silly. Go home,” she said, returning the hug.

Colle went downstairs and gave the loaves to the meat seller, working out a deal for two sticks of meat per loaf in the future. Then they flew straight home. Sitting at home, they stared at the surface of their table. They didn’t feel that sleepy, and it felt wrong to be unproductive when they should have still been at work.

They stared out the window at their quiet little neighborhood. From up in the trees, it was quiet, even if those lower down might disagree. Sighing, they stretched and walked out to the back deck. Looking over the forest did nothing to calm their jangling nerves, though it was still just as lovely as it had been when they’d sat out there with Harroc - was it only three days ago? Colle shook their head.

Ah, the teas! If they were altering their usual blend of spearmint and lemongrass by adding black tea, they needed to make sure the flavors balanced. They’d need to test a couple versions to make sure they narrowed in on the best proportions. With a task to do, Colle went back inside happily and began pulling their herbs out of the cabinets.

They’d start with three parts lemongrass, two parts spearmint, and one part black tea. They chose a black tea grown in southern Tyvir, where the mountains met the jungles. Colle carefully measured out the portions, mixed them together, and put them in a small fabric bag. They put the kettle on their stove, stoking the fire underneath. As they’d let it grow cool, it would take a while.

Colle searched for their favorite mug in their cupboard. It was a large hand-thrown mug their sister Jasmine had bought them as a present; its rounded body fit nicely in the cup of their palm, and the blue-green colors in the glaze were soothing. They pulled their notebook out of their bag and wrote down the proportions for this first trial. If all went well, they could eventually have written recipes so that anyone could make the blends if they wanted. Maybe they should do that with their pastries as well, particularly the cat’s paws.

When Harroc was back, they resolved, that’s what they’d do. They could double check their recipes as they made them and let Harroc try everything. Colle smiled, thinking of Harroc enjoying different breads and pastries with them. They heard the kettle start to rumble - a sign it was almost boiling - and pulled it off the heat, pouring it on the tea bag in their mug.

They made two more batches of the tea, one with double the tea leaves and one with half, while waiting for the first cup to cool. They tasted the first cup - not quite right. Shrugging, they put the other two batches in fabric tea bags and put more water on to boil. While they waited, they might as well drink this cup - it wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t the flavor profile they wanted.

They’d brewed nine cups of tea before they’d finally narrowed down on the exact proportions they preferred. They’d also made four bathroom trips and paced around the house approximately seventy-eight times. Writing down the formula, they noticed their hand was shaking from all the caffeine. 'Well, no sense in trying to rest like this,' they thought, and put on loose clothing. ‘I may as well burn off some of the energy on the obstacle course,’ Colle thought. ‘I’d just jitter straight out of bed.’

Jittery energy did not translate well to endurance, Colle found. They thought about bringing something to drink but couldn’t find an empty bottle in their house. Bouncing through the first three obstacles, number four challenged them and they crashed headlong into the limits of their energy. Obstacle five had them tasting bile in the back of their throat. They crept over to a tree just off the course, sitting against the trunk to recover.

Colle had hoped that they’d be in a little better shape by the time Harroc returned, but so far, all they’d gained was being exhausted and now feeling sick. Feeling discouraged, they toyed with the idea of just going home. After all, they weren’t joined by anyone and no one would know.

Looking up, they sighed. The sun was starting to go down. They decided to give up for the day and flew slowly home. Stripping to get into the shower, they looked at their neck in the mirror. Harroc’s bites were beginning to turn a sickly yellow. It felt like an omen.

Once they were clean, they wrapped themself in a towel and sat on the back deck for a few moments. They stared at the moon, its brilliance set off by the velvet darkness surrounding it. Was Harroc looking at the same moon tonight, thinking about them? They shook off their thoughts and went inside. Grabbing a book from their overstuffed bookshelf, they lay down, intending to read a few chapters. They made it to page ten before the book dropped from their hands as they fell asleep.
Word count: 3679
User avatar
Colle Mellifera
Event MVP
Pastry chef
Level
03
46 / 46 HP
42 / 42 MP
0p / 0g / 1s / 50c
Race: Fae
Class: Alchemist and Summoner
Posts: 67
Joined: December 28th, 2019, 7:16 am
Has thanked: 2 times
Been thanked: 2 times

Re: Absence Makes the Tart Grow Sweeter

Post by Colle Mellifera »

Day Four

As Colle pried themself out of bed, they wondered if Juncea would just let them sleep at the cafe sometimes. Early mornings felt so heavy to deal with. Maybe Juncea would agree to let them take on an assistant - part-time even would be a help. Although, they thought reflectively, they weren’t that old. Juncea had been well into her sixth century when they’d first begun hanging around the cafe, and they were barely into their third. She probably wondered why they were having trouble holding down the work when she’d been significantly older at the time, working as the cafe’s baker and manager.

Stumbling over to their closet, they realized that all of their work clothes were dirty. After inspecting a pile of pants and tops, they chose the least objectionable set to wear. There weren’t fruit stains, flour marks, or oil stains - at least that they could see.

Giving themself a stern talk about responsibility and duty and many other words that sounded bracing, they flew to work. They altered their workflow by adding in a batch of cat’s paws before the muffins; if yesterday was any indication, the cafe would need them. A triple batch of glaze stood ready in the cold storage in case Harroc made it back in time to come by the cafe.

Poppy came in for her shift, staring at Colle intently. “Why do you look more tired than when you left yesterday?” She crossed her arms, her wings twitching behind her.

“I don’t know? I went home, worked on the tea blend, and - oh, I drank a lot of tea and I was all jittery so I went to the obstacle course to try to burn some of it off.” They laughed weakly. “Turns out that doesn’t work terribly well.” Their wings pulled behind them a bit as though avoiding Poppy’s dismay.

“You went to the obstacle course?!” Poppy buried her face in her hands. “I know you’re my best friend but I swear by Cecelia’s light, I could kill you for this.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Besides, it’s open to anyone at the practice fields, so it can’t be that bad.” Colle pulled the first batch of muffins out of the oven, trading the trays to bake the second batch.

“Colle, my darling friend, the obstacle course is what the Rangers use to exercise. They do timed runs as a benchmark. Do you even know half of what you’re doing out there?”

They shot her a withering look. “There’s signs by each obstacle that tells you exactly what you’re supposed to do. I read them before I did anything. I’m not that dumb.”

“That’s debatable,” mumbled Poppy. The two Fae heard a noise outside. “That’s probably the Rangers. I’ll go let them in.” She pushed open the door to the cafe, disappearing to go let the group of people inside. Colle huffed indignantly and put the kettle on to start the two pots of tea for the Rangers’ canteens.

Poppy came into the back again after a few moments. “Do you have cat’s paws this morning?”

“Yeah, I just need to glaze them. Give me a few.” Colle pulled the tray from where they were cooling and began plating them. When they retrieved the glaze from the cold storage, they felt a twinge of pain across their chest. Rubbing the spot, they brought the glaze out and fixed the pastries. “Here you go, Pops.”

She took the plates with a raised brow and headed into the cafe to deliver them. Colle pulled out the muffins; they’d left them in a little too long. Considering the batch was the bran muffins, they decided to let it go. A bit of almost-burnt spots might actually improve the taste, as far as they were concerned.

As they carried the tray of muffins to the counter, Poppy hissed under her breath, “I’m telling your boyfriend on you the second I see him.” Her wing tip snapped out at them.

“Good luck with that. I intend to jump on him as soon as I see him,” Colle retorted. “Doubt he’ll be listening to anyone then.”

“Then I’ll catch him first!” Poppy narrowed her eyes at them and they stuck out their tongue. They rolled their eyes when she sighed at them. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Poppy, please. I may be stretching myself a little thin, but I’ll be fine. You don’t need to bother Harroc about it,” Colle said, crossing their arms with a dismissive flick of their wings. “Besides, once we get a few more staff, things will slow down.”

“You won’t. That’s the problem. Why don’t you ask Juncea for an assistant?”

“Pops, Juncea was well over five hundred when I started nosing about as a kid. She did all the baking and managed the cafe. I’m less than half that age - why would I need an assistant?”

“The cafe’s grown, and your pastries have tripled the amount of things the cafe offered -” she began. A patron waved, and sighing, Poppy left to see to them. Colle heavded back into the kitchen.

‘Poppy doesn’t understand. I can’t let Juncea down, not after all she’s done for me,’ they thought. They put together a batch of cat’s paw dough. Smiling as they shaped the pastries, they remembered the first time they’d seen Harroc come in as a cat.

It had been quite the sight, seeing the muscled black jaguar strolling in like he owned the place and choosing Harroc’s usual table in the sunshine. They’d approached the jaguar nervously, asking, “Harroc? Is that you?” The jaguar had leapt up, jumping into the air and transforming into a puff of green smoke that became Harroc. He’d ordered his usual pastry and tea, and devoured the treats before returning to jaguar form, napping in the sun while his paws twitched in pleasant dreams.

Colle smiled at the memories and put the first tray in the oven. They’d run down today and get some meat to appease Poppy’s mother-hen tendencies, which were apparently in abundance. If Harroc was back, maybe they’d even take a long lunch break so they could eat together. More bread, they reminded themself, and started a dough so it would have time to rise before they headed down for lunch.

“That’s odd,” Poppy said, coming into the kitchen with something in her hand. “I found these at one of the tables.” There were five glass spheres in her hand, with colorful swirls suspended in the middles. She held them out to Colle.

They grinned. “If no one comes to claim these, I wouldn’t mind having a few cat’s-eye marbles. I haven’t had any since I was a kid.” They picked one out of Poppy’s hand, rolling it around in their fingers.

“I was hoping I’d found something cool, not just marbles. Probably some child left them.” Poppy took the marble back. “I’ll put them under the counter.”

Colle considered for a moment. “Maybe they belong to one of the Rangers?” Poppy shrugged.

“Oh, what are you doing for lunch?” she asked, fixing them with a pointed stare.

“I was going to go downstairs for one of those grilled meat skewers, since you asked,” Colle replied with faux indignation, their wings giving a single flap. They turned to wash their hands after playing with the marble. “And if Harroc is back, then we can both go.”

Poppy clapped slowly. “You actually had a plan today. Good job.” Colle blew a raspberry at their friend, molding the dough in their hands.

“I hope he’s back soon. I’m excited to see him,” they admitted. That wings-in-the-stomach feeling had returned from when they used to watch and pine, but with less anxiety and more anticipation. Still, they hoped it wouldn’t make their stomach too upset to eat; their wings were twitching slightly with the unsettled emotion. “In any case, I wanted to bake the loaves of bread before I go, so it’ll be a little while yet.”

“Okay. Let me know when you’re going to leave,” Poppy said, with a smirk. “I’ll tell you if loverboy comes in. Maybe.” She flitted out the door into the cafe.

“Hey!”

Colle made and baked a second batch of cat’s paws before deeming the bread ready. They shaped the loaves carefully before the tray was placed in the oven. Humming cheerfully, Colle began to wash dishes from the morning. The tips of their wings kept time as they cleaned, waiting for the bread to be done.

Yonatan came in through the back door. “You’re a little early,” Colle commented.

“Yeah, I was hoping the feisty ranger woman would be here,” Yonatan said, blushing a bit. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen her?”

Colle frowned, remembering they hadn’t been out front much today. “Let me check with Poppy real quick,” they said, going to the door. “Poppy?”

She came over to them. “Ready for your lunch?”

“Almost. Did you see another red-headed Fae come in? She would have had more of a lilac skin tone,” Colle asked. “Might be dressed as a Ranger.”

Poppy gave Colle a confused look. “Why?”

Colle’s wings vibrated excitedly. “She’s got a thing for Yonatan apparently. Seemed quite taken with him the day the Rangers first came in,” they said grinning wickedly.

“Oh, yay!” Poppy grinned back. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Yonatan was red when Colle came back in. “Did you have to tell Poppy?”

“Poppy will totally wingman for you. She’s very good at it,” Colle said. They winked. “Seriously, she’ll help you out and keep you from doing something dumb. She’s done it for me a few times.” They checked on the bread and took it out of the oven.

“Hey, do we have any fresh cat’s paws?” Poppy came in with a fake innocent look.

“Let me glaze them for you,” Colle said back, equally falsely nonchalant. They plated one of the latest batch and intentionally drizzled more than the usual amount of glaze. “There you go. Don’t spill,” they said, and handed the plate to Yonatan. “I think you know where to take this.”

“Do I look okay?” Yonatan asked seriously. Poppy studied him for a moment before adjusting a lock of hair on his forehead.

“You look fine. Go,” she said, gesturing him toward the door. He straightened his shoulders and went into the cafe. Poppy and Colle exchanged a look, before racing each other to the door and then calmly walking to the counter. Colle pretended to be focused on counting the baked goods in the case and Poppy wiped off the countertop very slowly as they both tried to eavesdrop.

Nethra was leaned against the edge of a table. She looked a bit beyond mussed up with dirt and mud caked on her armor and several faint scrapes and bruises along her skin. The ranger seemed almost bored as she sat there, her arms crossed over her chest she watched Yonatan approach. Despite her outward appearance, there was a predatory gleam in her eyes that belied the facade of casual disregard.

"So, you off work soon or are we going to fuck on the prep table?" Nethra asked as Yonatan reached her. Her voice wasn't terribly loud, but she clearly wasn't trying to hide her desires behind whispered words. "Oooh, you can feed that to me if you want. It won't be the last sweet thing I get my lips on." Her eyes sparkled as she glanced at the pastry and then very clearly walked her attention to Yonatan's groin before slowly working back up to his face.

“I can get off - work,” Yonatan said after a second of shocked silence. He quickly replaced his open-mouthed surprise with what he hoped was an enticing smirk. “My place is near by. Shouldn’t be hard to bring home a few sweet things.”

Colle and Poppy tried to look very engrossed in their tasks but were both failing miserably at not looking Yonatan and Nethra’s direction. Yonatan turned to look at them and Colle just waved him off. “Go!” they mouthed. He smiled and handed the plate to Nethra.

“Here, hold this,” he said as she took the plate. He leaned over and unceremoniously scooped her off the floor. Her wings fluttered wildly as he cupped her ass in one hand before adjusting it to better support her.

“Oooh, I hope you devour me,” she cooed in his ear as he strode toward the door. Yonatan disappeared out the main entrance as Colle saw Nethra reach up to trace his jaw with a fingertip.

Colle looked over at Poppy. “Well, I guess we’re stuck with each other for the rest of the day,” they said with a grin. “And with that, I’m gonna go grab lunch. You want anything?”

“Sure, grab me some of those skewers too. Don’t forget the loaves,” she reminded them. Colle nodded with a cocky, playful smile and ducked back into the kitchen. They wrapped the loaves carefully and started to walk downstairs. Harroc had said he wanted to eat the meat skewers again when he could enjoy them. Worry for Harroc nagged at Colle; where was he? Surely, even with a student, it wouldn’t have taken him that much longer than usual.

Maybe Harroc had to do some kind of report with the rangers, like a debriefing. They really didn’t know much about how the organization functioned. There was probably a perfectly reasonable, non-catastrophic reason that Harroc wasn’t at the cafe. Maybe he’d decided to shower at Colle’s house before coming over, or he decided to rest there.

Colle shoved their worry aside and smiled at the cart’s owner as they walked up. Trading the two loaves - with an admonishment to spread their visits out next time - Colle took three skewers back. They could eat outside the back door and it wouldn’t technically violate the ‘no outside food’ rule.

Mounting the stairs, they tripped a bit and a drop of hot grease landed on their arm. They hissed, shocked and stung, before regaining their balance and continuing. “Poppy!” called Colle, opening the back door and propping it open with their foot. “Food!”

Poppy brought two plates and forks out with her. “Here, set those down. You’re going to burn yourself, dummy.” They laid the skewers down across the dishes.

“Too late,” they said ruefully, showing Poppy the small burn. It looked like a tear drop. “Stings a bit, but it’ll probably calm down soon. Once Harroc is home he can enchant some berries with healing and it’ll be gone. No worries.”

“Healing berries? That’s cool, and very useful.” Poppy used her fork to slide the meat off the skewer and onto her plate. She stabbed a piece and bit into it. “I’m surprised he isn’t here yet, honestly.”

“Me too,” they admitted. “It’s probably nothing, right? He’s had to deal with the rangers or he’s at my place cleaning up or something. That’s what I’m guessing at least.” They copied Poppy’s method of moving the meat onto their plate.

“Yeah, most likely,” Poppy said, nonchalantly. She eyed the remaining skewer. “Wanna split that one?” Colle nodded, their mouth full. They tapped their foot against the door that had been propped open so that they could hear if anyone came up.

Once they'd devoured all the meat, Colle took the plates and left them in the sink to soak the grease off. Poppy returned to the front and they joined her for a while, before returning to bake more pastry and bread.

They started another batch of bread, wanting to try something they'd heard about - bread as a soup bowl. Assuming Harroc was back in time for dinner, they could go to that soup place downstairs and take that home with the small loaves they intended to bake. While the bread dough rested, they made another batch of pastry dough, shaping it around dollops of jam.

Colle slid the tray in the oven almost absentmindedly. They were trying not to poke their head out of the kitchen door every time they heard more people enter the cafe. Surely, Poppy would tell them if he showed up. They didn't need to haunt the front counter.

The afternoon seemed to creep by, punctuated by short bursts of excitement when they heard the sound of boots coming through the entrance. Finally, Poppy managed to convince the last of the patrons to leave. Colle helped collect plates and books, wiping down the tables as they went. Poppy helped wash dishes so that they could leave sooner. Colle grabbed a few of the small loaves to take home. They could always make soup there.

“I’ll fly home with you,” Poppy said. She raised a hand to forestall Colle’s protest. “If Harroc is there, I’ll go. If not, I can hang around until he gets back.”

Colle sighed. “I might put you to work helping with my laundry.” Poppy rolled her eyes, but followed Colle without comment to their home.

As they landed outside their front door, they looked around. No gear or boots near the door. They opened the door. No Harroc in the bed. Listening for the sound of running water, they heard nothing but the soft creak of wood and wind that was always present.

Poppy came in and set her bag by the door. She closed the door after herself as Colle strode to the back. No bags or staff in the closet, and no Harroc on the back deck either. “Well, he’s not here,” they said with a sigh. “I guess I might as well do laundry. I don’t have any clean clothes left.”

They walked to the closet and stripped, tossing the garments into a basket of similarly dirty items. Pulling on a loose dress, they gathered up the rest of their clothes and brought them out. “Poppy, you want to change out of your work clothes? I have spares.” They gestured at their dress.

“I’ll think about it. You need help?” She stretched and walked over to Colle.

“I usually just boil some water and soak everything in soapy water, then scrub it and rinse it in the shower,” they said. “I can do it, but no sense in turning down help.” Poppy nodded.

Colle fished under the sink for the soap they used and dragged a basin off the top shelf above the cupboards. “I usually camp out in the bathroom until I’m finished so I don’t drip water everywhere.”

“I hear ya. Do you have a washboard or something to scrub things with?” she asked, rolling up her sleeves.

“It’s in the basin there,” they said, tipping it so she could see. “Put on a kettle of water please?” Poppy filled the kettle and stoked the fire as they lugged the basin and the clothes to the bathroom. They set the basin in the shower area to contain any splashes and ran the water to about a third full.

Poppy stuck her head in. “Why don’t we move this to the back so we aren’t trying to cram the two of us in here?”

“Fit both me and Harroc just fine,” Colle mumbled, but picked up the basin slowly.

“Yes, well I’m not particularly interested in being inside of you tonight, so I imagine we’ll need just a touch more space,” Poppy said back deadpan.

Colle blushed. “I think you lack the necessary equipment there, but point taken.” Between the two of them, they carried the basin out back, both of them walking slowly to not get soaked by sloshing water.

“Don’t act like you don’t have some equipment you could lend me,” Poppy laughed, rolling her eyes at Colle and settling in for some hard scrubbing.

Colle rubbed the back of their neck awkwardly. “True. You’d have quite a lot to choose from but somehow the idea of my best friend plundering my sex toy collection feels weird.”

“Well, it would keep you distracted, and it’s not like you haven’t shown several of them to me,” Poppy shot back as she flipped her current garment over. “I’ll go down in the morning, see if anyone’s seen him.”

They blanched. “No, don’t. The last thing I need is another Hassan situation right now. Enough of the Rangers know that they’d put two and two together.” They scrubbed a stain out of a work top. “And besides, maybe he’s just running late. Or is lying dead in the underbrush somewhere,” they trailed off, mumbling.

“So are you just going to pretend you’re not worried, not about the situation, but him? He’s not new to this, right? He’s the one they send out to keep the inexperienced ones safe,” Poppy countered as she worked.

“But why would he be late?” Colle worked the soap through their clothes. “He knows - you told him - about the others who didn’t come back,” they continued. “I - I don’t want to believe that he’s just going to leave me, not after his dramatics at the cafe in front of the rangers. But I can’t deny that that so often seems to be the most likely answer.”

“You do remember he’s gone into an extremely dangerous place with an only mostly-trained companion, to instruct them. It’s still dangerous, even for him.”

“Thanks Poppy, now I can worry myself by also imagining all the ways he could have gotten hurt or killed, or how that girl might be, because I’m fairly sure he’d feel responsible.” Colle hung their head as they scrubbed a pair of pants.

“You’ll need to get used to that particular terror if you plan on keeping tall, dark, and willing-to-brave-constant-danger around,” Poppy said, pointing a soaking but clean shirt at Colle for emphasis.

They huffed at her. “Trying to be my father again? I wish I could go with him. At least I wouldn’t be here with a thousand and one ‘what-ifs’, even though that’s stupid for me to even think about.” Snorting, they gently washed the orange top they’d worn the other day when they’d gone out with Harroc to find pants.

“I’m not strong or particularly fast, I don’t have a magic skill that would be any use in combat - we already know I don’t have any aptitude for wizardry since I couldn’t see Rory’s spell structure - so I’d be dead weight on him.” They flipped the top out onto the wooden deck.

“I mean, you could always go to the instructors, see if any of them can teach you anything. Though I think your real magic might just lie in pastries.” Poppy grabbed a second piece of laundry.

Colle splashed a bit of water at Poppy, sticking their tongue out. “Pastries are great but...fuck, Poppy, it might not kill me to get out of the kitchen sometimes.” They poked their stomach. “I’m getting pudgy and I hate it.”

“Yeah, and you’ve got muscle tree boy who’d probably grin and grunt his way to some kind of joy overload if you expressed interest,” Poppy said back, slapping Colle in the shoulder with her current bit of damp laundry.

“Okay, I have water dripping in my freaking armpits, and you are hereby taken off the free cat’s paw list,” Colle growled. “I did, in fact, say something about possibly tagging along some time, and I’m pretty sure it’d be him trying to keep my stupid ass from getting in trouble unless I stayed in a pack the whole time. You know how well I do with that.”

“So, go see if you’ve got any magic in you. Also, why in canopyfall do you smell like plants having sex?” Poppy snapped back accusingly.

“Uh.” Colle turned bright red and swallowed a few times, not meeting Poppy’s eyes. “For the same reason that my neck has jaguar spots on it.”

“Wait- wait- wait you’re telling me… oh no. His… jizz smells like fucking plants?!” Poppy shouted. “Fucking shit, everything in the entire city is plants! This is awful, why?!”

Colle shrugged dramatically. “Because the idols like to make a mockery of my life? That’s my best guess as to why I fell for a patron -” they started ticking things off on their fingers. “Who’s a shapeshifter - and a druid - and eats like everything he tastes is his first and the most orgasmic thing ever - and who is apparently, the son of a sentient tree.”

“Hah, fair enough. Though this is going to haunt me forever. Who has spunk that smells like plants?!” Poppy shook her fist at the sky before sighing and returning to her work.

Smirking, Colle grabbed another piece of clothing. “You wanna know something else? Too late - it’s green. Bright fucking green. And lucky him, it just - evaporates or something. He could paint my house with it and you’d never see any.”

“For fucks’ sake, Colle, I did not need to know that, ever!” Poppy glared at her friend, who kept their face still in an infuriating grin.

“And I didn’t need to know any of your exes’ lengths or favorite spots, but here we are.” They held up another piece of clothing, examining it.

“Hey, I distinctly recall you begged to know what would turn- whatever his name was into putty!” Poppy immediately shot back.

“For research, Poppy. After all, so many people share commonalities that it could prove valuable information,” they said solemnly. “Also, I did not beg, I merely expressed curiosity.”

“You were on your hands and knees. Though, I guess you like being down there anyway,” Poppy added with a sharp laugh.

“Hey now, don’t kinkshame. I don’t give you shit about getting it on in almost-public spaces, not even when we were younger and I swear you were determined to give every single person on guard duty an eyeful.” Colle paused. “Actually, I seem to remember you keeping a list of anyone who did guard duty.”

“Wait, how strong does this stuff smell? You had to be cover-” Poppy’s eyes went wide and they shivered slightly. “Wow, Colle, wow.”

“Let’s just say he makes me feel very old at two hundred ten,” they snorted. “I swear, I’m afraid it’s going to be like taking a youngling to bed. If I die from exhaustion, know that I went out happy at least.”

“So how are you even walking? I mean, I know you haven’t been doing those limb stretches you found out about.” Poppy pointed an admonishing finger.

“Oh - well, trust me, the idea of being able to walk and sit seemed like a good one considering work. So I said we’d wait a bit, because - oh my idols, Pops, he’s...cutely ignorant of sex and dating and how people work. I can’t get annoyed at him because most of the time, he just doesn’t know, and when I tell him, half the time he’s embarrassed that he may have said or done the wrong thing.”

Colle paused, tipping their head to the side in thought. “Although, those stretches - and the, uh, training kit - I’m gonna have to start doing that again.”

“So it isn’t just a trick of the light, he’s hung like a horse?”

“You can verify with Vera. He’s got some serious wood down there. Think he said it runs in the family,” they said slyly.

“So which idol’s dick did you ride to get tall, muscled, hung, and completely innocent to the ways of debauchery? That’s some high grade fantasy stuff to just fall in your lap.” Poppy frowned in a way only someone slighted by the universe could.

“Wait, do idols even have dicks? I mean-”

“Spiritual dicks then, Colle, you’re clearly due some karmic balance.” Poppy shook her head, lamenting her own lack of undue rewards. “I gotta get some of whatever you’ve been doing, clearly.”

“Fuck if I know then. I’m horrible at actually remembering to go to the temples. The only one I usually remember to pay attention to is Veditova, because libraries and books, and sometimes Kelorha because, well, can you really forget a nature idol around here?”

They pulled the piece of clothing they'd been scrubbing out of the basin. It landed with a dull wet smack on the deck. "I think that's it. I'll go rinse these and hang them up back here. You're welcome to stay - as long as you don't mind the bed smelling like, and I quote, 'plants fucking'," they said.

“Damnit, I’m going to have such weird dreams. I’m jabbing you in the side every time I wake up with nightmares about this,” Poppy said with a defeated sigh. “Easier than flying all the way home at least and you are pretty comfy to cuddle.” She prodded Colle’s stomach and giggled.

Colle frowned and swatted her hand away gently. “Don’t poke my pudge,” they mumbled. “Or else no cuddles. It’s my one redeeming quality outside of baking.”

“Yeah, yeah, your doughy rolls are safe from me. Idols-taken, hung and completely trainable to all your whims. It’s bullshit.”

They lugged the wet laundry to the shower for rinsing. “It might be bullshit. Depends on if he comes back,” they said softly, not really expecting Poppy to hear them over the water running. “Also, completely trainable, my ass. Harroc’s got her fooled.”

“You tell him what feels good, he does it, right? You can teach him all the things you like, and no worries about him knowing something wrong. He’s coming back, he even drug you out in front of everyone to make sure they knew too,” Poppy countered loudly from beside the bed.

“Do you really think he’ll come back after a long weekend with Miss Ranger Princess? For a short little pastry chef?” Colle snorted.

“Have you seen the faces he makes when he eats your pastries? He’s sitting there, practically spraying plant juice everywhere each time he gets a bite.”

“Are you hating on his enthusiastic enjoyment? It sounds like you’re hating.” Colle scooped up the wet, rinsed clothes back into the newly soap-free basin and took them to the back deck. They pulled a rope from one wall and made a short flight to secure the other end to a nearby tree.

“Also, that’s the pastries,” they called back as they started to hang their clothes. “I admit the pastry I make is good. Still doesn’t mean he’ll come back for me.”

"I bet he's wrapped around your honey glaze dipped finger. And if he's not, then I think I've got someone who would be." Poppy looked at the bed somewhat warily, wrinkled her nose, and then settled down on the edge. "It really does reek of blooming everything."

“If you smell honeysuckle, that’s just him. Sorry not sorry about the rest of it.” Colle came back in, looked down at the wet patches on their dress, and grimaced. “Give me a bit to shower and I’ll change into pajamas. You need anything?”

“I don’t. You know I don’t care if you wear pants either,” Poppy replied. She wriggled out of the clothing she’d been wearing and dumped it on the floor in a heap. Yawning, she slid under the top sheet carefully. “Just hurry up. I’m tired,” she said.

They turned into the bathroom, flipping the shower on and waiting for the water to warm. In the quiet, without Poppy’s bolstering presence, all of their worries about Harroc crowded into their head. 'Was he hurt? Had his student gotten hurt? Were they dead? Or was he just...not coming back.'

Despite Harroc’s display and Poppy’s reassurances, Colle still felt the turning worm of anxiety in the pit of their stomach. They stepped under the still-chilly streams of water, wanting the shock to clear their mind a bit. Shivering, their wings clamped shut and they scrubbed themself quickly, wanting to get the shower over and done.

The water had never really gotten warm and Colle dried off, rubbing the towel roughly against their skin. Poppy was probably half asleep by now, they thought, and though she’d said she didn’t care, they crossed the hall and rummaged in their clothes. Pulling out a pair of underwear, they wriggled into them before going to join Poppy.

She’d turned the lights out already. Fortunately they didn’t need any help to navigate and crawled into bed on the side closer to the window - a necessary evil to ensure they woke up on time. Poppy wriggled closer and slid her arms around Colle’s torso, laying her cheek against their shoulder. “Warm,” she mumbled. Colle gave a soft chuckle and gently patted her hand.

From the even breathing behind them, it was clear that Poppy had fallen asleep quickly. They’d laid their head on the pillow, staring out the window, and couldn’t get their mind to stop spiraling. Even trying to meditate barely helped; it was like being caught on a stone in a rushing river with no way out.

They’d dozed once and their mind had presented them with a dream about watching Harroc fall, the light going out of his eyes and green essence draining out of him copiously. Colle had almost woken Poppy when they’d jerked out of that. She made a noise of protest before falling back asleep. They sighed softly and tried to wait for the sunrise, when hopefully work would occupy them enough to stop the rushing thoughts.
Word count: 5776
User avatar
Colle Mellifera
Event MVP
Pastry chef
Level
03
46 / 46 HP
42 / 42 MP
0p / 0g / 1s / 50c
Race: Fae
Class: Alchemist and Summoner
Posts: 67
Joined: December 28th, 2019, 7:16 am
Has thanked: 2 times
Been thanked: 2 times

Re: Absence Makes the Tart Grow Sweeter

Post by Colle Mellifera »

Day Five

Staring out the window, Colle was actually relieved when the sun began to rise and they could get out of bed. The night had been long and sleepless. Poppy muttered something as they disentangled themself from her grasp, but they handed her a pillow and she clutched it to her as she fell back asleep. They’d have to get clothes from out back; hopefully they were dry by now.

Most of their clothing was still noticeably damp. Colle snarled at the irritation of having wet clothes. They realized that technically, they could wear anything to get the morning baking done and change before the cafe opened. Pajama pants and a loose shirt it was, then, and they’d bring work clothes to hang near the oven to get dry. They got dressed and crammed the damp clothes in their bag, leaving Poppy asleep in the bed.

Flying the short distance to work, they rubbed their eyes several times. They felt hot and gritty, but Colle reminded themself, there wasn’t much they could do about that. The kitchen was welcoming in its dark solitude. Starting the usual round of baking, they decided to sit through most of the dough making. They could probably hide the stool before Poppy got here. Besides, it was just one night without sleep; they’d done it before.

When they got to the batches of pastry dough, somehow their brain flashed a memory of Harroc devouring a cat’s paw, face covered in glaze and smile beaming. Colle’s chest twinged and their eyes hurt with hot tears. They shook their head hard to clear it, but the memory changed into their nightmare from last night. Harroc, hurt and dying, the light leaving him. Pushing away from the work table, they buried their face in their apron and cried. ‘I hope I never have to see that for real,’ they thought desperately.

They splashed cold water on their face and washed their hands. Idols, they’d rather Harroc leave than come to - that. At least, if he’d left, he’d still be alive somewhere, even if that somewhere wasn’t with them. They attacked the dough making with as much vigor as they could, forcing themself to focus solely on the measuring and the shaping of each batch.

Poppy came in, yawning. “Why aren’t you wearing your work clothes?” She tilted her head. “I know we washed them last night.”

“They were still wet - ah, fuck, I forgot to hang them up to dry,” Colle said, swapping trays and then rummaging in their pack. They pulled out the pants and top, slinging them over the hook nearest the oven. “Guess I’ll have to hide back here longer.”

Staring at the rack holding baked pastries, Poppy eyed the trays before turning to her friend. “When did you get here?”

“Right after sunup, why?” Colle dumped one set of bowls into the sink, grabbed another and began dumping in ingredients for a batch of muffins.

“Didn’t you sleep? You still look like hell, and I know you went to bed.” She put a hand on her hip and fixed Colle with a glare.

Snorting, Colle stirred the bowl harshly. “Not really. I tried. All I got was a nightmare and a mind that wouldn’t settle.” They dumped berries into the bowl and blended them in. “At least now I realize one thing.”

“And what is that? Do tell,” Poppy said, with the forced tone that said she was trying very hard not to be mad at them.

“That I’d rather Harroc have left me - and that be why he’s late - than for him to be badly injured and dying.” They began slamming scoops of batter into a muffin tin. Almost angrily, they yanked the trays out of the oven and shoved the muffin tins in.

“You don’t really think -”

“Gone is better than dead, Poppy.” They rinsed out the muffin bowl and began tossing new ingredients in. “I’ll start plating as soon as I get these in.” They bent their head down, away from Poppy’s eyes.

She sighed slowly and approached Colle. “It’s probably-”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I’d rather he be out there, with someone else, than a corpse in the wilds.” They shrugged off her hand. “Let me be.”

“Stubborn ass,” Poppy mumbled under her breath as she went out to the front. Colle bit the side of their cheek hard to keep from crying and tasted the metallic tang that told them they’d pinched too hard. They flung more batter into muffin tins. Grabbing platters, they began moving pastries from the trays to be ready for the front.

“Rangers. Tea. Damnit.” They put all the kettles they could find on the stove - only three - and started the water heating for tea. They prepared the pots with the loose leaves, lining them up on the counter. The muffins needed to come out. Colle lunged to the oven, pulling the tins out of the oven. When did muffins become so heavy?

Tins on the rack to cool, they took the first platter to the door and knocked. Poppy came over and they handed her the first tray for the glass case. “Are you al-”

“I’m fine,” they interrupted, whirling back around. Once out of sight of Poppy, they pressed their hand to their chest. Must have pulled a muscle or something. Maybe they’d been laying at an odd angle. The next tray of pastries needed to go on the platter.

Poppy came to the back and took the platter as soon as it was full, watching them with a concerned look in her eyes. They didn’t care; they had a job to do, and they were going to do it. Even if it meant they had to sit or hold on to the counter.

The kettles began whistling and Colle raced around pouring water into teapots. Poppy reappeared. “Do you have tea ready for the Range -”

“Steeping.” They pointed at the teapots. “Give them a bit, they’ll be ready. Need a little longer for the paws.” They turned away from her. Normally they adored Poppy’s comforting ways and no-nonsense manner, but today, she - and everything else - was just rubbing them the wrong way.

“I - okay.” Poppy nodded and took the completed platter up front with her. Colle let out a breath. They knew they were being a royal pain in the ass, but right now they just wanted to get through today. Make it through today. Then make it through tomorrow.

The first few days - and the first time you saw them after - were the worst times after a breakup like this, Colle thought. They sighed heavily, leaning on the side of the sink. Their wings had been drooping all morning, and they still hadn't really recovered from the stunt of forcing them to shed. It had been a stupid thing to do, they thought with a touch of bitterness. Harroc had probably never opened the little tin anyway.

Poppy had been in and out of the kitchen, getting tea and pastries to take up front. At midday, she came back, studying Colle, and blocked their path. "Go. Get something to eat. Soup if you're not that hungry."

They opened their mouth to refuse, but one glance at Poppy's face told them it would be a wasted effort. Slinging their apron on a nearby hook, they stomped out the back door and down the stairs. The soup place was nearby, and they figured they might as well order in case Poppy was nosy enough to check up on them later.

Looking down at their pants, they groaned. They still hadn’t changed into work clothes and their pajama pants had multiple spatters of batter and dough on them. The waiter at the front counter of the soup place looked them up and down. “Casual day?”

“You could say that,” Colle replied. They ordered a small cup of whatever the soup of the day was - they didn’t care - and sat down to wait. They stared idly at the passersby, noting colors occasionally but mostly letting their shapes blur into multicolored streaks. The waiter set the bowl down; the sound brought Colle back to awareness with a jolt. They toyed with the spoon, sipping slowly at the broth. Although Poppy had insisted they eat, their stomach clenched at every bite, gurgling and protesting.

After they’d slowly eaten about half the soup, Colle decided to go back to the cafe. Maybe there’d be a leftover muffin or something they could nibble on. As they came in the back door, Cory smirked, saying, “Nice pants.”

“Thanks, they’re the latest style from Fellsgard,” Colle shot back. They saw Cory hesitate for a moment and took advantage of it to pull their apron on. Their mixing bowls had been washed while they’d been gone. Bread would be nice to work on for the afternoon. As they went to the cold storage, Poppy came around the corner.

“Hey, someone was asking about the tea blends,” she said. They spun around, nearly losing their balance.

“I completely forgot,” Colle groaned. “Tell them tomorrow.”

“Sure. You’re not going to pull an all-nighter for that, are you? Because I’m fine telling them things will be delayed for a bit,” Poppy said. She put a hand on Colle’s shoulder. “You need to rest. Seriously.”

“Pops, I’m doing what I can. I did eat. I wasn’t hungry. I’ll try to eat a muffin or something.” They pulled some ingredients from cold storage and carried them to the work table. “Gonna make some bread.”

“One batch. Then you go home with two muffins. Mix the tea if you want, but please try to rest, okay?” Poppy sighed and put an arm on Colle’s shoulders.

“I - but Poppy -” Colle started. A wave of dizziness hit them and they grabbed the edge of the work table. “Okay. I’ll go home,” they said. They closed their eyes briefly. “I’ll put the dough together and bake it tomorrow.”

“Do you need me to take you home?” Poppy watched them carefully.

“I think I’ll be okay. You know it’s not far.” Colle measured the ingredients and began combining them. Once they had a doughy lump in the bowl, they covered the container with a damp towel and set it on the counter near the oven. “Sorry about all this.”

“Just take care of yourself, dummy. You’re the only one of you that we have,” Poppy said, hugging them tightly. “I’ll come by to check on you after close.”

“You don’t have to,” they protested weakly.

“I know. Go on, then,” she said, shooing them out the door. Colle grabbed their bag and their now-dry work clothes and headed home. Even though the flight was short, it felt more tiring than usual.

They flew so low they almost missed the platform and ended up scrambling onto it. Wearily, they pushed the door open. Their house was quiet and looked almost exactly as it had when they’d left that morning, save for Poppy’s side of the bed and the absence of her things.

Flopping down into a chair, they rested for a moment, laying their notebook on the table. Their wings beat weakly against the back of the chair. Turning to a fresh page in their notebook, Colle began to calculate the amounts of black tea, spearmint, and lemongrass for twenty portions.

Groaning, they realized they didn’t have any bags or tins to separate the portions. Anything they could have really used would be at the cafe and they didn’t feel like going back. ‘I’ll just have to go in early,’ they thought with a sigh. Once they’d worked out the proportions and amounts of ingredients, they began measuring the ingredients, holding two large bowls together and shaking them to distribute the contents evenly.

Poppy knocked on the door just after they’d transferred the whole thing to a clean cloth bag to take to work tomorrow. “Hey Pops,” Colle said, opening the door.

“You still look like someone’s dragged you through the underbrush,” Poppy commented, frowning slightly. “Have you been resting?”

“I got the tea blend together for tomorrow, but I’ll have to separate it out at work tomorrow. I’ll come in early, bring my scale,” they mumbled. They patted the sack gently.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to just take tomorrow off?” Poppy put her hands on their shoulders and guided them to a chair. Colle slumped into the seat.

“I can’t, you know that. There’s no one else to bake pastry and - well, I’d rather stay busy,” they said, their voice growing quiet at the end. Poppy gave them a sympathetic smile and patted their shoulder.

“I’ll come in early tomorrow to help you,” she said. “Do you want me to stay tonight?”

"I appreciate the offer but I think I'll be okay. No offense, I didn't sleep well last night. I'm planning to eat my muffins, shower, and hopefully sleep." Colle gave her a strained smile over their shoulder. Poppy leaned down and hugged them.

“I still wish you’d consider asking Juncea for an assistant. I know you said that you feel like you’d be letting her down, but it would honestly be a good thing for the cafe and for you.” Poppy rested her chin gently on their head. “You could take a break every now and then, and you’d have time to work on the tea, and the cafe might even have more to offer with another person baking.”

“I - maybe,” Colle conceded, letting out a slow breath. “It’d take time to get someone up to speed, and I don’t think many people would want to come in at sunup to bake -”

“You did,” pointed out Poppy. “Juncea found you, gave you a chance. Maybe you should look for other people you can teach and give them a chance.” She stood, taking her chin off their head and giving their shoulders a squeeze. “Just think about it. You don’t have to make any decisions right now. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, turning and heading for the door.

Watching her leave, Colle considered what Poppy had said. They hadn’t considered that they had something to offer others - a skill that might help another person still trying to figure out who they were. Not everyone was meant for the books-and-scrolls version of education, they thought ruefully. Books were fine; dissecting them to dust was less so.

Despite Fae being generally accepting of less-traditional gender roles and divisions, Colle had still faced some resistance from other Fae and the mix of Kerasoka, humans, and other people that lived in Ajteire. What if there was another person like themself who could use a mentor, or at least, an example of someone who was different and still made a life for themself?

They pulled the muffins out of their pack, eating them slowly and realizing how many years of skill the muffins represented. Years of trying flavors and methods, of failing and asking feedback, of testing and finally succeeding - most of the time. There were still batches that burned, flavors that didn’t work - but the store of knowledge they’d amassed made these occasions less frequent and less likely.

Eating the last crumb, Colle levered themself out of the chair and walked heavily to the bathroom. They stripped off their flour-spattered pajamas, snorting softly at the idea that they’d actually worn them to work. In the shower, they washed mechanically, looking out the window across the back and into the forest. ‘I hope he’s safe and okay wherever he is,’ Colle thought with a tinge of sadness.

Once they’d dried off, they wrapped the towel around themself and collected their clothes off the line. The line itself could stay hung up for a little while; they didn’t feel like untying it tonight. Yawning, they folded work tops into a pile and shoved them into their place. The pants they left unfolded in a heap.

Colle crawled into bed, having hung their towel back in the bathroom. Fatigue weighed heavy on them and they lay back against the pillows. Though they slept, their dreams kept them tossing and turning, memories of past rejections running through the dreams. At midnight, finally, they were able to ignore the dreams and fall firmly asleep.
Word count: 2808
User avatar
Colle Mellifera
Event MVP
Pastry chef
Level
03
46 / 46 HP
42 / 42 MP
0p / 0g / 1s / 50c
Race: Fae
Class: Alchemist and Summoner
Posts: 67
Joined: December 28th, 2019, 7:16 am
Has thanked: 2 times
Been thanked: 2 times

Re: Absence Makes the Tart Grow Sweeter

Post by Colle Mellifera »

Day Six - Part One

The bright sun felt like it was stabbing Colle in the eyes. They groaned into their pillow, feeling the pressure in their forehead begin a dull, faint ache. Probably meant a storm was coming later, they thought. They fished yesterday's unworn work clothes out of their bag and put them on. Somewhere in their closet was a waxed cloak for Ajteire's few truly torrential rainy days. Digging it out, they slung it over their shoulder to carry to work.

Flying felt like a lot of effort, so Colle chose to walk. Three-quarters of the way down the stairs, they remembered why they almost always flew. Grumbling slightly, they got to work a little later than they wanted, having to lug the tea and the cloak as well as walk the whole way.

Pushing the door open, Colle stared into the quiet kitchen. Poppy had made sure everything had been cleaned and nothing looked out of place. There was a muffin on the work table with a small piece of paper tucked under the bottom. In Poppy's round handwriting, the note said, "Eat me."

Colle chuckled. It was such a Poppy thing to do. They picked up the muffin and did their best to eat it before their stomach realized it. Most of the muffin was eaten before the rumbles started so they counted it as a success. Setting aside the last few bites, they started the usual offerings for the cafe’s morning patrons.

Poppy came in after the first batch of cat’s paws went into the oven. “Where are you in the baking?” she asked as she came in, grabbing an apron.

“Muffins. A batch of bran, ugh, and a batch of whatever. Something fruit. Blueberry maybe?” Colle turned to face her. “Thanks for the muffin. Cute note.” They hugged Poppy tightly, feeling a little dizzy when they released her.

“So, um, if you can take care of the muffins, I’m going to take the tea stuff and start portioning that out,” Colle said, dragging the stool to the side of the work table furthest from the oven.

“Sure, I can do muffins. Did you not sleep well again?” Poppy asked, concern clear on her face.

They waggled their hand in mid-air. “I had some crap memory-dreams, but then I got some sleep after that.” Going over to their bag, they pulled the large bag of tea out and set it on the table. “Where are those little cloth bags we had?” they asked the room as they rummaged around the cupboard.

“Did you try that top cupboard there?” Poppy pointed to one in the upper right corner. “Isn’t that where we put the leftovers from all the festivals and stuff?”

Colle sighed heavily. “Probably. I hate to ask, but can you fly up and check? I just don’t have the energy right now.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Poppy said, shooting a worried look at her friend. She flapped up to the cupboard, fishing a small box out of the back. “I think these are it.”

Colle took the box from her and opened it. Little cloth bags were stacked inside. “Perfect. Thanks, Pops.” They set the box of bags at their end of the work table and washed their hands before starting on the tea.

Each portion needed to be weighed in the bag to ensure that the portions were equal. It wasn’t difficult, but it was a bit fiddly and tedious. Colle sighed as Poppy slid the first tin of muffins into the oven. They weren’t even halfway through. “Remind me again why I said I’d do this,” they grumbled, mostly joking.

“Because people love your teas and it nearly caused a riot when you said you were only going to do fifteen.”

“Oh. Yeah. That.” Colle scooped more leaves into a bag and set it on the scale. Underweight. They added a bit more and checked it before tying off the top of the bag. “Since it looks like this is going to be a regular thing, I may ask Juncea if I can get a set of scales for here, and see about keeping some herbs and tea on hand.”

“You should.” Poppy rinsed the mixing bowl and began the next batch of muffins. “You shouldn’t have to use your own equipment and supplies for cafe stuff.”

“But this was my idea-”

“And the patrons were extremely enthusiastic. Your teas are being talked about all over Ajteire, you know. Even my grandmother was asking about them, and you know she hardly goes out of her place in the southwest,” Poppy rebutted. “Not to mention you’ve given the cafe a reputation for delicious pastries.”

“Now I have to keep that up. Pressure,” Colle moaned. They scooped and measured another bag. “Do you really think I can teach someone to do what I do? I’m beginning to think not.”

“The blends and stuff, maybe not. The pastries? Absolutely. You taught me how to make crescents, remember?” Poppy checked on the muffins in the oven. Turning back, she said, “Granted, I think you threatened to slit both our throats at various points, but I did get them made and they were delicious.”

“Okay. I will give you that. Maybe with a less hard-headed student, I could teach them.” They grinned at Poppy, who stuck her tongue out at them. “Check your muffins.”

Poppy sauntered over to the oven with a look that said she didn’t believe Colle, peered inside, and pulled out the tin with her mitts. “How did you know?”

“I’ve baked more muffins that I care to think about? They smelled done,” they said, eyeing the current small bag on the scales. “Think I could make an assistant do all the packaging?”

“You could, but you wouldn’t.” Poppy slapped the tin of bran muffins into the oven. “You’d be afraid they’d do it wrong and either hover over them or just take over.” Colle huffed from their end of the table. “You know I’m right.”

“I know. You know me far too well for my own good.” They tied the bag they were working on and stretched their arms up. Their wings gave an anemic flap behind them. Frowning, they glanced over their shoulder; still dull blue, the iridescence not yet restored.

“What’d you do to your wings?” Poppy came around the table to inspect them. Colle swallowed a little and clamped their wings down. Damn her, Poppy would know, and then she would tease them forever. Rounding the corner, Poppy gently stretched out a wing, pulling against the tension of Colle’s efforts to keep them closed.

“What - oh. Oh! You did the thing, didn’t you?” Poppy leaned around to give them a horribly cheerful glare.

“Thing? What thing?” Colle said in a higher pitched voice than usual. They tried to act as uncaring as possible about what Poppy was doing.

“You know. The ‘fairy dust’ thing. What did you put it in?” Poppy smirked.

“I didn’t-” they began as Poppy raised her eyebrows. “Fine. Coconut oil.”

Poppy furrowed her brow, thinking. “Wait, isn’t that what you use -” Her eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped open. “Are you telling me you made your boyfriend fairy dust lube?”

“Yell it a little louder, will you? I think there’s people in Domrhask who didn’t hear you,” Colle mumbled. “And I doubt he counts as my boyfriend, now.”

“You are an adorably stubborn idiot,” Poppy said, laughing. “As obsessed as he is-”

“-Was-” interjected Colle. Poppy ignored them.

“With your wings, he must have loved it.” She grinned. “Did you get a chance to test it before he left?”

“Well. Um. No, as a matter of fact.” Colle blushed faintly. “I didn’t tell him what it was. I put it in one of my tea tins and told him it was good for dry, rough skin, but not to open it unless he was thinking of me.” They looked away. “He probably tossed it, or used it with that Ranger princess he called a student.” Their face fell at the idea and they turned back to measuring the tea.

“I maintain you’re being an idiot. I bet you he’ll be back,” Poppy said encouragingly with a faint touch of smugness. “He probably ran into some trouble and it’s just taking longer to get home.”

“Poppy, don’t give me false hope like that.” They turned to look at her, face solemn. “Right now, it hurts, but I’ll get over it. Eventually. Please don’t rub salt in that wound.”

“Still think you’re being stubborn about this. But fine, I won’t talk about him if you don’t want me to.” Poppy checked the bran muffins.

“They aren’t done,” mumbled Colle. “Honestly, I think they might be better slightly burnt.”

“Ugh. Who could tell?” Poppy agreed with Colle’s opinion of bran muffins, but the little tasteless lumps were popular enough that they stayed on the menu.

Colle tied off another bag. “The day I burnt them by accident, someone apparently complimented them.” They shrugged. “I guess it adds some flavor.”

“Maybe. I should start doing the platters,” Poppy said and pulled them out of the dishes that had been set to dry. She filled two with berry pockets and chocolate twigs before carrying them up front to the glass case.

They finally tied the twentieth bag. “I should probably make a clean copy of the names for you up front.”

“Only if you have time,” Poppy replied, grabbing another two platters. “I have to do the tags anyway, though.”

“Hey. I will try to make it legible. Not my fault you can’t read,” Colle jibed at her. Poppy managed to cross by them and gently bonk them on the head with her elbow.

“Oops.”

“Liar.” Colle fished the papers out of their bag and went out front to grab a sheet of paper. They copied the first twenty names down and counted the little bags again to make sure they had enough. Satisfied, they scooped the little bags into a large bowl that was too shallow to be much good for anything but display and carried the bowl and paper to Poppy out front. “I’ll go start tea brewing and then bring you the muffins.”

“Okay,” Poppy said, focusing on writing the tags. She had beautiful handwriting - when she focused. Colle hummed as they went to the back and set the kettles on the stove with water to boil. While they waited, they scooped the usual lightly fruity black tea blend into two teapots and their herbal blend into the last before gathering the blueberry muffins onto a platter.

They checked the bran muffins. Slightly burnt. Perfect. They slid the muffin tin out and onto the rack to let them cool. The kettles still hadn’t whistled, so they carried the platter to Poppy. Shuffling feet could be heard near the entrance and Colle ducked back into the kitchen as they heard Poppy welcome people in.

Fortunately, the kettles had started to bubble, so they shortly had tea steeping. “Might need your help. Got about ten out here,” Poppy said, popping back into the kitchen. “Oh, and I need the glaze for the paws.”

“Right. Tea’s just started, give it a few.” Colle stumbled over to the storage and got the ingredients for the glaze. The last thing was in the cold storage, and it took Colle a moment to get from the table. Sighing, they collected the ingredients and began making the glaze.

They arranged the paws on the platter, drizzling the glaze over them. Swiping a finger in the nearly-empty bowl, they popped their finger in their mouth. The rush of sweet made them feel a little unsteady; they set the bowl in the sink and ran water in it immediately before gulping a few mouthfuls of water.

As they picked up the platter, Poppy came through the door. “Help?”

“Sure. What to whom?”

“Paws to the table with the two ladies in skins, one to the table with the darker gentleman - Zalai? Said he knew you - and one to Yonatan and his girl,” Poppy rattled off the list.

Colle plated the four paws and carried three out. The ladies paid little attention to them, being more concerned with the pastry. Zalai smiled as they approached. “I hear you’ve started selling the tea. I would very much like to get on the list.”

They sucked in a breath. “I’ll add you, but please don’t let anyone know I did. I might get death threats; the idea’s been more popular than I ever suspected,” they admitted. Zalai laughed and put his finger over his lips, winking.

Returning to the kitchen, Colle grabbed the last plate. The Fae ranger, Nethra, was currently sitting in Yonatan’s lap, kissing him with happy cooing noises. Yonatan was pulling her closer and his much-abused neck gave Colle an idea of what Yonatan’s off time had been spent doing. They let the plate thunk slightly on the table as they set it down.

When they returned to the kitchen, Poppy had been pouring tea. She handed them two with directions and headed out with another two tables’ orders herself. Colle set the cups on the table with the usual polite murmurs and headed back. “Sorry. The last two there are Yonatan’s table.” Poppy pointed at two cups off to the side. “Can you-”

“Yeah.” They picked up the two cups and brought them over to the table. Nethra had stopped to breathe and was currently feeding Yonatan bites of cat’s paw. He was taking the opportunity to lick her fingers as she held the piece out to him.

Colle winced and set the cups down near the plate, but out of easy spilling distance. Their chest twisted in a way that wasn’t the fault of any muscle and their stomach churned. Forgoing any pleasantries, they strode back to the kitchen. They opened the back door, letting it close behind them and sinking down against the side of the building.

Yonatan and Nethra - their behavior reminded Colle so much of Harroc’s happy devouring of pastries and of his lover. They covered their face with their hands, feeling hot tears slip down their cheeks. Sniffling, they tried to wipe the tears away and stop, but they choked on a breath slightly and started to sob. They slid their apron off and balled it up, hoping the fabric would at least stop the noise from carrying.

Poppy stuck her head out the door, clearly searching, when she saw Colle huddled against the wall. “I’m sorry, Colle,” she said, sliding down next to them and putting her arm around their shoulders. They leaned into her shoulder, still hiccuping while tears ran down their face. “I know this hurts and I really wanted this to work out for you,” she said softly, rubbing their far shoulder.

“I - I know,” they stuttered, wiping their face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten so attached-”

She pulled them to her fiercely. “No, it’s not a bad thing to love deeply, even if you fall in love quickly. Don’t apologize.” Colle sobbed into her shoulder as she held them. They seemed to have a deep well of tears that would not soon exhaust itself.

When their sobs had subsided into whimpers, Poppy patted their back softly. “I need to go back in. You can stay out here if you want,” she said in a quiet tone. Colle nodded, not trusting their voice, and leaned back so that Poppy could get up. She stood, stroked their hair, and went back inside.

Colle forced their breathing into a regular pattern, counting inhale - pause - exhale - pause. After a few moments, they opened the door and snuck back in. They thought about going to the front and checking on the numbers of pastries, but decided against it when they heard the rumble of voices. They were just about to turn away from the door leading into the cafe when they heard Poppy speaking.

Putting their ear to the door, they heard her ask, “Zalai, have you seen Harroc? He was supposed to return two days ago, wasn’t he?”

Zalai paused and his voice sounded far from its usual easy confidence. “That’s - not good. He’s usually not late. I thought perhaps he had come here and intended to give a report later in his haste to return to his mate.” He sighed. “The last time Harroc was this late - well. I’ll get the rangers together and if he hasn’t returned by morning, we’ll set out in the direction he and his trainee were supposed to travel.”

Colle pulled away from the door, feeling sick. They’d assumed that upon returning, Chloe would have been proclaiming her success among the rangers at having secured Harroc for herself. If they hadn’t returned-

They felt the bile rise in their throat as they flushed hot, then cold. Running for the back door, they leaned over the railing that overlooked a decorative planting of palms and plants with large heart-shaped leaves. They retched, but save a few bites of muffin, there wasn’t anything in their stomach.

Shaking, they wiped their mouth on their sleeve and turned to the door. They almost collided with Poppy. Her face was pale and drawn, an unusual sight considering her usually cheery disposition. “You heard Zalai, then.”

“Y-yes.” Colle grabbed Poppy’s shoulders to steady themself. They felt like their legs would barely hold them. “I-I don’t know - what do I do?”
Word count: 2991
User avatar
Colle Mellifera
Event MVP
Pastry chef
Level
03
46 / 46 HP
42 / 42 MP
0p / 0g / 1s / 50c
Race: Fae
Class: Alchemist and Summoner
Posts: 67
Joined: December 28th, 2019, 7:16 am
Has thanked: 2 times
Been thanked: 2 times

Re: Absence Makes the Tart Grow Sweeter

Post by Colle Mellifera »

Day Six - Part Two

Poppy pulled them into a tight hug. “For now, let’s get you ahead on the baking. If the Rangers have to organize a search party, they’ll want food. We still have to keep the cafe supplied. I’ll work with you to figure out what we need. Okay?”

Colle nodded jerkily as she held them. “Y-yeah. Make a list. Bake stuff.” They gulped as a chill wind touched their skin, their sweat making the cold air feel worse. Poppy led them back into the kitchen and sat them at the stool while she got paper from up front.

Staring at the work table’s top, Colle felt like their thoughts were frozen, suspended in the moments they had heard Zalai speaking. What Zalai hadn’t said scared them as much as what he had; what had happened the last time Harroc returned late from a run?They set their forearms on the table, whimpering slightly as they hit the burn mark from a few days ago against the edge.

“Okay. Crescents will keep, cat’s paws should be okay as long as we don’t glaze them, and we may as well start on the shells for the quiche,” Poppy said, coming back in with paper. “What has to be made the day of?”

“Berry pockets. Anything glazed. Chocolate twigs could be made ahead of time, but the dough has to sit for a day at least,” Colle said in a monotone. “I can make more dough for the twigs, mark it, and then roll it out the day we need.”

Poppy made some notes. “Let’s start with cat’s paws. Do a batch for the cafe today, and then we can set aside some for tomorrow morning. Can you make the dough and shape it ahead of time and we could store it in the cold storage?”

Colle nodded. “Don’t know if there’s room.”

Poppy lifted her chin in determination. “I’ll make room.” Colle shrugged and turned to clean the mixing bowls in the sink. They wiped out the bowls absently and set them to dry before gathering materials for pastry dough.

Years of practice kept Colle’s hands moving in the correct patterns. They felt completely removed, as though their hands didn’t belong to them and they were simply watching. Two batches of cat’s paws were lined out on the trays before Poppy came back.

“Okay. Let’s bake these. Next two trays will go in cold storage,” she directed. Colle nodded and began dumping the flour into the bowl. Poppy put the first tray in the oven. “Keep an eye on that one,” she said, as she headed back to the front.

They made the next batch, setting them out on the tray before moving it to the cold storage. Poppy had rearranged several of the shelves, grouping the ingredients more tightly to make room for the trays. They slid the tray onto the cleared shelf and returned to the kitchen to make another tray.

The second tray filled and in the cold storage, they sat on their stool, trying to think of what they should do next. Sniffing, they smelled pastry baking and checked on the cat’s paws. They’d gotten them at the peak of golden crispness.

Racking the tray, they slid the waiting batch into the oven. Poppy had come in quietly and they started when they turned and she was right there. The world swirled for a moment. “Start on some quiche crusts, okay?”

“Okay.” Colle fished out the pie pans and set them on the table with a dull clang. Mechanically, they measured out the ingredients, working them into a dough as they had so many times before. Roll. Press. Trim. Over and over, a rhythm until they ran out of pans. They shoved the dough out of their way.

Standing, they realized they needed to check the pastry baking. They wobbled over to the oven. Golden. Almost brown. They reached out, felt the heat, and looked around for the mitts. Once they’d slid the mitts on, they pulled the tray out and set them to cool. They stuck two of the pie pans in the oven to bake.

Pastry was simple. Flour, fats - butter, lard, shortening - and water. Maybe sugar. Add what you like for flavor. Keep the proportions right and you could make any pastry you wanted. Their hands clenched in agitation. Make pastry, they thought, and scooped the quiche crust pastry in a bowl for later. They scooped the flour, added the butter, cutting it in thoroughly. Roll it out, add more butter, fold, turn, and roll again.

They filled a tray with crescents to bake, half the dough waiting. Pull out the pie crusts. Put in the crescents. Rack the hot pastry to cool. Move the cooled pastry to a platter. They moved with the efficiency of long years, table to oven to rack. More than once they had to grab the table to steady themself as they moved.

They’d put a tray of crescents in the cold storage when Poppy came to check on them. “How’s it going?” she asked, her eyes fixed on Colle.

“Two batches of paws. Crescents in the oven. Two pie crusts done. More to bake.” They recited the list in the broken monotone voice they’d used earlier.

“Okay. In cold storage?”

“Two batches of paws, one of crescents.”

“Good. Make a batch of whatever dough you use for the berry pockets and set it in cold storage,” she said briskly. She swept out the door. Colle began the ingrained movements of making more dough, pausing only once to remove the crescents and put pie crusts in the oven.

Coming back in, Poppy asked, “Did you make the pocket dough?” Colle nodded. “Okay. Um. Go eat lunch and-”

“No.”

“You need to eat.”

Colle shook their head. “Won’t stay.” Their stomach still clenched occasionally as they worked, providing an uncomfortable punctuation to their numbness.

Poppy let out a slow breath, her face slumping into a frown. “Alright. Tea?”

Colle tried to think; it felt like trying to use a beater that’s gears were clogged with dough. “Maybe.” Poppy nodded and pulled a teapot onto the counter. Opening a cupboard, she chose a tin and scooped a healthy spoonful into the pot. Colle smelled the peppermint and the black tea, one of their favorites in the summer.

Putting the kettle on, Poppy checked the rack of cooling pastries. She saw the platter of paws waiting and took them to the front. The kettle started to gurgle. Colle stared at it for a moment before pulling it off the heat and pouring the water into the waiting teapot.

"Good. I'll take care of the tea. Make some glaze for the paws, okay?" Poppy had come in while they poured the water. She slid her arm around Colle's shoulders, squeezing gently.

"Okay." When Poppy released them from her embrace, they turned and walked to the cold storage. They had to pause a moment, leaning against a shelf, before collecting the ingredients they needed. They'd do a triple batch for the two platters of baked paws, and another for the trays set aside in cold storage.

They mixed one bowl and set it aside. Duplicating the process, they stuck the second bowl in the cold storage for later. The detached feeling wore on them; it was an uncomfortable situation, like somehow floating in water while walking on the ground and in the air.

Poppy pulled the pie crusts out of the oven and pushed a mug of tea in front of Colle. “Here. Take a few sips,” she encouraged.

They took a tentative sip. The tea was hot but not enough to burn. Steam caressed their face as they held the mug up to their face. They remembered, bringing Harroc tea that first morning, how he’d held it carefully as though he was afraid to spill it and made soft happy noises-

A soft cloth wiped their cheek. “Hey now, we’re going to do everything we can. The Rangers will too,” Poppy said softly as she dried the tears that ran down their face. They hadn’t even noticed. Colle nodded slowly and took another sip of tea. The mint was soothing in a crisp, cool way.

“Do you want to head home? I can manage here,” Poppy said.

Colle shook their head. “No better there. Work to do here.” Finding words and talking felt difficult, as though they had to drag the words through mud to force them out. “More dough. Muffins maybe.” They drank about half the mug and set it down.

“Okay. Tell me if you want to leave though, just so I know.” Poppy went back out front, pausing at the door to send them a sympathetic glance.

Muffins were easy. Colle rummaged in the cold storage for fruits. Berries were almost always popular, but there were other spices to include that were also tasty. Some berries were left, still, but not enough for the quantity they intended to make. In the dry storage, they found apples and yams. Selecting a few spices, they brought everything back to the work table.

They were down to their third-favorite mixing bowl already, they noticed with a slight frown. The others were in the cold storage, holding dough and glaze for later. The first two batches of muffins were apple and berry; the next two would be apple with allspice. Mashed yams were supposed to work quite well as a substitute in quick breads, and they hoped they could use the yams in the last two batches, maybe with a touch of apples.

As they divided the batter into the first set of tins, Poppy came back in, seeming relieved as she noticed them baking. “Muffins?” she asked and Colle nodded.

“Planning on two batches each of three different ones.” They finished scooping the last of the batter into a tin. “Although I guess I could go ahead and bake the bran ones. I’m not sure if anyone would be able to tell if they were stale.”

“Probably not. It might even improve the flavor,” Poppy replied with a wry smile. She patted Colle’s shoulder and took the filled tins to the oven. “You want your tea?”

“I guess. I’ll try,” Colle replied. Their head still felt fuzzy and slow, but the worst was starting to recede. The headache from earlier was still there, and a touch stronger. They guessed that a storm was approaching.

“Is it raining outside yet?” they asked, taking a sip from the mug Poppy handed them.

She looked puzzled. “No? I mean, the usual quick showers and all but not anything big.”

They rubbed their forehead. “Just feels like rain is coming. Or something,” they said. Fortunately mint tea tasted good cold as well as hot; not all tea blends did. Stretching, Colle felt their wings flap against them half-heartedly. They’d been too preoccupied to even think of them.

“Your wings look like shit still,” Poppy said, studying them.

“So are you volunteering to come put oil and lotion on them? Because that’s what it sounds like,” Colle said, shooting her a flat look.

Poppy gave them an unamused look. “I can’t tonight. Maybe tomorrow - if you’re desperate.”

“Why not tonight?” Colle frowned slightly, before getting an idea. They curled their mouth into a sly smile. “Ooh, do you have a date?” they asked in a sing-song tone.

“Shut it.” Poppy crossed her arms over her chest and looked away as a faint blush spread across her cheeks.

“Poppy’s got a date, Poppy’s got a date,” Colle sang. Poppy glared at them. “Good luck breaking your dry spell. Hope whoever they are, they’re good to you. And for you,” they winked.

“You’re such a pain sometimes,” Poppy grumbled.

“You still love me,” they countered, smiling behind their mug of tea.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, and reached over to ruffle their hair. Colle put up with it with only a slight grimace. “So yeah. I’ll try not to be late tomorrow but-” she shrugged.

“No worries. I’ll be here.” They finished the last of their tea. Setting the mug in the sink, they rinsed out the bowl and started the next batch of muffins. Poppy looked over to the oven and reached for the mitts, pulling the muffin tins out.

“I’m going up front. Holler if you need anything.” Poppy pushed through the door. Colle hummed a little as they stirred the batter. They hoped this batch would turn out well. Remembering their idea of writing down recipes, they pulled out their notebook and quickly scribbled the ingredients and proportions for this batch and the previous one.

Filling the tins, Colle paused to consider how to use the yams. They’d probably have to boil them first. They slid the muffin tins into the oven and dug under the work table for a pot large enough for the yams. A pot of water was set to boil, and Colle quartered the yams in hopes of cooking them more quickly before dumping them in the water.

At a standstill, they wrote down ingredients and brief notes on the steps to make cat’s paws. It never hurt to have notes, anyway. They made a note, “triple glaze for Harroc,” and their chest tightened uncomfortably. Clenching their teeth, they willed the tightness to go away, but it was persistent.

They swallowed hard a few times, and the tightness loosened a little. Maybe eating would help. They looked over the muffins Poppy had taken out and found one that was a little oddly shaped and burnt on one edge. Taking a decently large bite, they felt like the chunk of muffin was caught in their throat and coughed heavily.

“You alright there, Colle?” Poppy asked from the door.

“Yeah, tried to eat a muffin,” they said, squeezing the words out. “Didn’t go well.”

“Muffin had bones?”

“Yup.” Colle cupped their hand to take a drink of water from the faucet. They eyed the oven and checked on the muffins. Not done yet. “Gonna try something with yams. I hope it turns out okay.”

“We’ll see. You planning on anything else?” Poppy leaned against the doorway.

“Not really. Was there something else you were thinking of?” They looked over at her.

Poppy shook her head. “You can head home after you get your experiment baked.”

“Well - if you’re sure,” Colle said.

“We’re past lunch and into the afternoon crowd. I’ll be fine.” They nodded in agreement and checked the muffins and yams respectively. The muffins were ready, but the yams were still firm. Annoyed at having to wait, Colle gathered up one of the batches of cooled muffins and set them in the cold storage.

They sat on the stool, tapping their fingers against the work table. Being usually tidy in the kitchen meant there wasn’t a lot that needed to be cleaned when there was an extended period of time. Colle tended to wash bowls and measuring utensils as they used them, as half the time they would need a utensil for their next batch.

What would they do at home, they considered. Clothes could be folded, but that wouldn’t take long. Maybe they should deep-clean the kitchen and the bathroom. Sweep the floor. Change the sheets on the bed. All the boring little mundane chores they’d completely forgotten in the past week. They opened their notebook to a mostly clean page and made a haphazard list.

A hiss caught their attention and they realized the water for the yams was starting to boil over. Pulling the pot off the stove, they dumped the water into the sink, leaning back to avoid the steam that billowed up. The yams were ready, finally.

Colle mashed the yams with a fork, scooping them out of the pot and into a smaller bowl. They added eggs, milk, and butter to the mashed yams and let them sit while they put together the dry components. Combining the two made a thick batter, and though it was a little unnerving compared to their usual muffin batters, they tried not to be concerned.

They put the muffins tins in the oven and then began to wash all their dishes. Since Poppy was closing, Colle didn’t want to leave her with more to do than they had to. There wasn’t much, and after peeking at the muffins, they walked out to the front counter. “Do we have any dishes that need to be washed?” they asked Poppy.

“A few,” she said, pointing at a stack about a foot high. Colle gathered them up and carried them to the sink. Plates weren’t difficult to wash, and they’d go quickly.

The last plate was rinsed and set aside just before they judged the muffins done. Pulling the tins out and setting them to cool, they moved half of the second batch to the cool storage. They had to wait for the muffins to cool before they took them out of the tins, so they jotted down notes about what they had tried. If they turned out horrible, at least Colle would know what not to do next time.

They’d pulled one tin’s worth of the muffins out to put into cold storage when Poppy came back. She looked surprised to see them. “Why are you still here?”

“Had to wait for them to cool. Here, try this,” they said and handed her a muffin. Poppy took a bite and chewed carefully.

“Good crumb. Flavors, interesting. It tastes like harvest festival, almost. Maybe add berries next time?” she suggested. Colle nodded and added a note on the page in their notebook.

“They’ll do I think. I’ll try the berries next time. Now I’ll go,” they said, and hung up their apron.

“Try to actually rest. And take the rest of that muffin.” She pointed at it. Colle sighed, rolled their eyes, and grabbed it from the counter.

“Bye Pops. Have fun tonight,” they said as they picked up their bag and headed out. An experimental flutter told them that flying was more or less out of the question and they took the stairs down to the main walkway. There was nothing wrong with walking, but flying was quicker.

Colle mounted the last flight of stairs to their place, pausing halfway to catch their breath. The mid-afternoon sun shone in their face, casting the front in shadow. They opened the door and set down their bag, pulling out their notebook and laying it on the table, open to the page listing tasks.

Sweeping a gaze around the little house, they started to decide on an order. ‘Probably want to strip the sheets from the bed and get them washed while it’s still light,’ Colle thought. They retrieved the washing basin and carried it out to the back before advancing on the bed.

Grabbing the sheets, they took them out to the waiting basin. Thoughtfully, they considered what else needed to be washed. Towels. Yesterday’s pajamas. Kitchen towels. They made a quick circuit of their house, pausing in the kitchen to start a kettle boiling. Colle then realized they hadn’t put any water in the basin; they couldn’t have moved it once it had much water in it anyway. A mixing bowl, pressed into service as a makeshift bucket, helped fill the basin with cool water. The kettle began to whistle just as they had almost enough water in the basin.

As the sheets became wet, they released a faint fragrance of verdant greenery. Colle swallowed hard and began scrubbing the fabric with soap. After they set aside the freshly scrubbed sheets, they realized tears had been running off their face and dripping into the basin. Wiping their face on their sleeve, they put the rest of the laundry into the basin and tried to focus solely on washing.

The sun hung significantly lower in the sky by the time they had washed and rinsed everything. They were glad that they hadn’t taken their clothesline down as usual, as now they could go straight to hanging the dripping items. Colle came in the back door, sighing, and moved to fold the laundry that Poppy had helped wash. Pants folded, work tops put in their proper place, and everything else hung up or at least stacked in the right location.

Going into the bathroom, they grumbled a little. They’d gotten water everywhere while rinsing out the laundry. Well, the room needed to be cleaned anyway. Retrieving cleaning rags and some vinegar, they wiped down the shower carefully, making sure not to leave water spots on the faucets. They moved around the room, wiping the walls, shelves, sink, toilet, and everything else. Mopping the floor, they worked their way out of the room and shut the door. They leaned on the mop for a minute; all the bending and stretching had made them more tired.

Colle tossed the rags in a pile by the back door. They preferred to clean the rags in boiling hot water by themselves. Moving on to the kitchen, they cleaned as much as they could, though they paused to sit at the table more than once. They’d just started to sweep the floor when Poppy showed up.

“Hey,” Colle called as she opened the door.

“Hey yourself. Did you spill something?” she asked frowning slightly at the broom.

“No. Floor needed to be swept,” they said with a shrug. “I’ve been taking care of a few chores, that’s all.”

Poppy rolled her eyes. “Why do I have the feeling ‘a few chores’ means ‘I’m exhausting myself’ again?”

Colle made a face. “Still needs to be done. Since you’re here, you can help me put new sheets on the bed.” They went over to the bedside and swept a few muffin and pastry crumbs in a pile.

“I’m kind of surprised you changed the sheets,” Poppy commented.

“Needed to be done.” Colle tried to keep their face neutral as much as they could. They pulled out a set of dark blue sheets and unfolded the bundle. Poppy helped spread the sheets out, stuffing the pillows in their cases.

“Do you want me to stay? Keep you company?” asked Poppy.

Colle took in a deep breath and held it for a moment, thinking. They shook their head. “I think I’ll be okay. I’m not planning to stay up too much longer anyway. I’ve got a few small things to do before I get ready for bed.”

Poppy crossed her arms in front of her. “Nothing strenuous.”

“No, I was going to write down some recipe notes. That’s it, really.” Poppy’s face cleared and she nodded.

“That’s a good idea, in case you ever take time off like you should. Poppy gave them a hug. “I gotta go, I just wanted to check on you.”

“Thanks. Go have fun,” they said, waving as she walked out. They hadn’t lied to Poppy. Today was exhausting; lots of baking, Zalai’s news, all the crying - which had been unusual for them. They flipped open their notebook and sat at the table. Recopying the ingredients, they left clear instructions with as much detail as they could on the cat’s paws.

They turned to the next clean page and wrote out the recipe for their basic pastry dough, which they mimed making as they wrote the steps. A number of the cafe’s staples used that recipe, and they made a list at the bottom. They added the recipe for the chocolate twigs with a note at the top that the dough needed to be made a day before it was baked - which was why they usually had a new batch made each day, to sit overnight.

Most of the cafe workers could make muffins, so they didn’t bother with that. They wrote down the recipe for their easy bread, and they’d planned to give more recipes, but they felt a wave of exhaustion hit them. Closing the notebook, they took the quickest shower they could manage, got ready for bed, and crawled under the fresh sheets.

What they hadn’t expected was that laying on the mattress caused a soft cloud of the verdant-greenery smell to wash over them. It was both comforting and heartbreaking all at once. Colle curled up, clutching a pillow tightly, and hoped the Rangers would be able to find Harroc - and Chloe - alive. Their whispered prayers to Kelorha, Veditova, Cecilia, and even the eidolon Ixaziel lay on their lips as they fell asleep.
Word count: 4171
User avatar
Colle Mellifera
Event MVP
Pastry chef
Level
03
46 / 46 HP
42 / 42 MP
0p / 0g / 1s / 50c
Race: Fae
Class: Alchemist and Summoner
Posts: 67
Joined: December 28th, 2019, 7:16 am
Has thanked: 2 times
Been thanked: 2 times

Re: Absence Makes the Tart Grow Sweeter

Post by Colle Mellifera »

Day Seven

Colle woke with the sun, as they usually did. They felt like they had actually gotten some rest, unlike the usual feeling of having barely slept at all. The dull ache in their head had retreated during the night, but was quickly building again. On the whole, they felt better than yesterday, and they quickly ate the leftover muffin from the night before. Heading out, they felt well enough to risk the flight; the last bit found them struggling but they made it to the cafe.

Even though they’d prepared items for the day already, Colle decided to make fresh batches. One more day wouldn’t hurt the dough, and if they needed to leave, the cafe should be covered. They started on the usual rotation, deciding to bake the batches from yesterday and replace them with fresh dough in the cold storage. As muffins were already made, they decided to make a batch of Ranger’s treats, partly in expectation of the group stopping by before they began their search.

Poppy came in, looking a bit tired, but on time. Colle shot her a smirk and she rolled her eyes at them. “New stuff?” she asked.

“I baked the old stuff and replaced the dough. Figured I’d make some Ranger’s treats since they’ll likely stop by this morning,” Colle replied. They checked the last tray in the oven and swapped the fruit pockets for the piped lines of the Ranger’s treats.

“You look a little better,” Poppy said, studying her friend.

“I actually got some decent sleep last night,” Colle said, stretching their arms and wings out. “Still feels like we should get some rain.”

“I think it’s just you.” Poppy yawned. “Oh, you wanna start tea?”

“Oh yeah, let me get on that. Everything should be in the case, except for those.” They pointed to the tray of still-hot pastry. Gathering the teapots, they filled the kettle and put it on to boil while adding tea to the teapots.

Poppy had headed out to the front while they were bustling around. Since they were waiting, they mixed up a sweet cheese and nut filling for the treats, thinning it to a thick custard consistency. The kettle began to burble and they took it off the heat, somewhat impatiently. They poured the boiling water into the tea pots and heard the noise of people entering the cafe.

Wiping their hands, they came out to the cafe to check on Poppy and the Rangers. Zalai was there, as was Nethra, both looking much more serious than Colle had seen them before. A few other people dressed in the leathers and heavy cloth favored by the Rangers sat a little further from the counter. “I’m glad you’ve stopped by,” Colle said, approaching Zalai.

Zalai gave them a grim smile, “We’ll need to fuel up before we head into the wilds.” Nethra nodded, not looking up from the vambrace she was fiddling with.

“I’ve got three pots of tea steeping now, and the usual pastries and muffins. Did an experiment with one that’s more savory but I haven’t got the flavors worked out just right,” Colle said back and Zalai nodded as well. “I’ll bring out tea and get your canteens filled, if you like.” Colle turned and walked back to the kitchen, grabbing the pot that held the blend Zalai had complimented the first time.

Quick footsteps ran into the cafe as Colle approached the counter. They saw a young woman in gear similar to the Rangers stop in front of Zalai. “Sir! An enormous wolf just limped past the wall, heading for the watchtower. It’s carrying an unconscious passenger that looks like Trainee Rasori -”

The explosive noise of a door being flung violently against its hinges echoed through the cafe. Across the room, Poppy looked up, startled, from where she’d been handing a plate with muffins to one of the Rangers. Even Zalai blinked a few times. Running back to the kitchen, Poppy only saw an empty room and the smell of the pastry beginning to burn. She yanked the tray out and set it on the rack before going back to the patrons. “Pretty sure that was Colle,” she said with a sigh.

For their part, it wasn’t until they were flying as fast as their wings could flap that Colle realized what they’d done. As soon as the impact of the Ranger runner’s words hit them, they’d bolted immediately for the back door and flung themselves off the platform. Gasping for breath, they pushed on towards the Ranger station on the eastern end of the city.

Almost crashing into the ground, they came to a landing with several awkward strides before running to the building that marked the larger Ranger outpost on this side of the city. “The wolf?” they gasped to the first person that came out.

“Past the watchtower,” the Ranger said, eyeing them with a quizzical look. Pointing east northeast, they said, “That way.”

“Thanks,” Colle managed to gasp out before sucking in a few lungfuls of air and starting off again. They jogged, not trusting in their wings to carry them at the moment. Even jogging took them twenty minutes - they’d had to stop for breath a few times - and they vowed to put actual work into exercise once this was all over.

Finally they came near the base of the watchtower. They didn’t quite make it to the tall pillars, instead doubling over several paces away trying not to throw up. There was no obvious sign of a large wolf in their immediate area and the heaving gasps of air were making shouting up to the tower a difficult proposition. Looking at the thin ladder that lead up to the platform, a leaden sensation of dread filled them.

“You're almost there. Faster than I thought,” Nethra called out, jogging over like she was on a weekend stroll. “Come on then, he’s this way. They’re both pretty rough though, so brace yourself.” The woman took Colle by the shoulder and tugged them along to a sloping rise. Just beyond, the land stretched out into a gentle depression filled with dense bushes and many smaller clearings.

Colle could see Harroc’s telltale white fur peeking out over a larger clump of bushes maybe forty paces away. They tried to hurry but there simply wasn’t any spare energy they could use. No matter how bad things might look, the important thing was that Harroc - and presumably his student - was alive, Colle reminded themself.
Word count: 1118
Post Reply

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest