Closed [The Rearing Stallion] Never Too Much

[Sigrun Dominic]

56th of Spring, 513 AV The Rearing Stallion A slew of soft whimpers roused the sleeping Sigrun, her bare legs moving in a cycling motion as they struggled to be free of the bedsheets. The young blonde's eyelids gently fluttered open, searching for the source of the noise. Snowe tugged at the sleeve of her white chemise, his wet snout brushing against her thin wrist. "What is it, buddy?" she whispered, her voice faint and hoarse, as if she were influenced by a sedative. The Inganu Deepwoods continued to tug at her sleeve, his paws resting on the edge of her mattress. Sigrun slowly sat up and placed her hand on the canine's head. "You want to go out?" she questioned him. Snowe's whimpering came to a halt. The young blonde grinned, "I thought so." Snowe was an old dog, far too old to be out and about all the time. Most of his days were spent sleeping and eating, and only on certain occasions would he be allowed to go out to take walks with Sigrun. Usually, this would mean outside around the outskirts of Syliras, or in the early morning when the people were scarce on the streets. It was rare for the Inganu to ask to be let out. Usually he was more than content having the bed to himself while Sigrun was away working or having a drink at a tavern. Today, however, he seemed to be interested in joining her on her plans. Specifically, her plans to get drunk. This early. "It's going to be fun," she told the dog excitedly, as if she were discussing something extremely incredible. Snowe stared as she took off her oversized chemise and replaced it with one of her favorite cotton dresses. It was plum-colored with black accents, the sleeves fitted snugly around the upper arms and down to the elbows, where it then flares and ends a about two or three inches above the girl's wrists. The form-fitting bodice was lace-up, cinching around the waist and hips, its A-line skirt flowing freely and ending just a few inches above the knee. The low sweetheart neckline was a quite revealing, but due to the young girl's rather svelte stature, it did not look as garish as it normally would on much bustier women. She turned over to Snowe as she took a seat by the table in order to put on her leather boots. The dog was still staring at her intently, almost as if he was judging her for going out for a drink in the early morning. "What?" she smirked, tying up the string that adorned the front of her dress in a crisscross fashion, "you don't want me to drink?" Snowe blinked and then looked away. "Don't you worry," she cooed, sashaying over to the door as she fastened her belt around her hips, only to stop for a moment to hug the canine as he approached her, "I won't go too far, like last time." She kissed Snowe's forehead, "I promise." The dimly-lit streets couldn't account for the sunrise. Sigrun maneuvered through the many covered stalls that were still awaiting their vendors to come and open up the shop. The few other early birds that dotted the sidewalk glanced over at her, with most of them shop owners themselves. Snowe stayed close to his owner's feet, walking alongside of her with his eyes looking straight ahead. "Care to take a look over 'ere, missy?" one of them called out. A bearded fat man who was astonishingly shorter than Sigrun. He was pulling off a long piece of cloth from his little stall, revealing a store filled with notebooks and ceramics; a rather odd combination of items to be selling. Snowe sat in front of the stall for a moment and became fixated with a certain clay statue of a cat. "I can fix ye' up with a discount 'fer bein' so bright and early!" "I'm fine," she nodded at him with a twitch of her lip, "just out for breakfast." "Oh? Can I join you?" the man smirked and raised his eyebrows at her, turning around to watch her walk down the street. Snowe regarded the shop owner with a slackened jaw and a pink tongue before running over to catch up with Sigrun. "You?" she raised an eyebrow at him, "I'm afraid not." Finally, the young blonde reached the Rearing Stallion. It was the best place for a homecooked meal and a quiet atmosphere, at least, in the mornings. The last time the girl had been here, it had been many days ago with a friend she'd met, but the place looked just about the same. So far, however, nothing the tavern offered could convince the girl to come around more often than she already did when she felt in the mood for a nice, quiet, delicious breakfast. The place was empty, with every table devoid of customers. Sigrun smiled to herself and closed her eyes as she sauntered over to the bar up front, delighted by the sound of the large hearth nearby, and the sound of Snowe's paws padding next to her. She could already smell the kitchen. Once she'd reached the bar, she quickly sat at the stool at the center, and watched with amusement as Snowe successfully hopped onto the one next to hers. The canine sat facing the tabletop and watched his surroundings for any other people. "Do you like it here?" she asked excitedly. Snowe looked at her with twinkling eyes. Sigrun petted the dog on the head before turning over to look for someone to attend to them. She needed some ale.

[Aidan Sutter]

Morning yawned and stretched its pale fingers when Aidan had first awoken, Syna’s light but a dull gray haze that stretched lazily above the slate parapets of the keep. The man loved his sleep almost as much as he loved satiating appetites, which meant that when his eyes first cracked open to the dwindling firelight of his windowless apartment, he knew he was already running late.

But late for Aidan Sutter was still early for most. Well before nary a soul could be found wandering the vast catacombs of the keep. Still, he had wasted little time in getting ready for the day, clothing the only part of him that was lawfully necessary before washing his face and dampening his hair in the basin stashed away in the corner.

His shirt, belt, boots, and apron he threw into a misshapen bundle and carried in his arms, leaving the apartment a disheveled mess one might have suspected an intruder more capable of. Locking the door behind him just to allay suspicion, Aidan had scrambled into the chilled streets outside Traveler’s Row and cursed his way to The Rearing Stallion.

Arriving well before any patron had decided it worth their time to stop in for a morning meal and drink, it made his pace for everything nonetheless hectic. Only after having clothed himself in presentable fashion and receiving a gentle scolding from Kevith, the tavern’s proprietor, Aidan’s day began.

Meat and fish had to be cut and seasoned, vegetables and fruits washed and prepared. Dough had to be thrown together and kneaded, and casks of ale and wine had to be tapped for bar use. Everything in between was simply busy work, tasks that required a mindless sort of attention where Aidan could ponder his next creation.

Stoking the fires to the kitchen’s hearth, his mind wandered aimlessly as he fought with the last vestiges of sleep. Eyelids lulled over a pair of steely blue eyes that captured the light from the red embers being breathed back to life. If he was to make it through to lunch, a pot of tea would need to be boiled.

Remi, the kitchen’s usual master and Kevith‘s wife, was off catching up on some much needed sleep. It left her assistant rather envious, but also in charge. She’d left him instructions from the night before for the meals that would need to be prepared, and enough faith in him to negotiate changes in the menu where they were absolutely necessary.

Eyes followed the woman’s artful handwriting on the parchment she’d left behind with slight indifference, his hands pumping the bellows that would bring the heat of the brick oven to a fair baking temperature. It was just enough to occupy his mind that he hardly even noticed Kevith walk in. The man’s sonorous voice was like a gentle tide of thunder rolling across the open plains.

“Going to market before the morning crowd stops in. Keep an ear on the front, would you?”

Aidan’s startled breath and silent doe-eyed stare gave the one armed proprietor enough reason to laugh, his head shaking as he walked to the back door that led out into the alley. “I’ll be back soon! Stay sharp!”

”Er…” But the door had already closed, leaving a befuddled Aidan to reconcile with the awkward silence.

He removed the bellows from the hearth, placing the contraption aside and clutched the letter Remi had left him between his fingers. Carrying it over to his chopping block, Aidan slid the note beneath the scarred surface of wood and tightened his apron at the back. It seemed the first meal of the day was little more than a few batches of a honey oat muffins served alongside two links of sausage and a small serving of cheese.

Retrieving a large ceramic bowl from one of the many cupboards placed neatly about the room, Aidan’s ears strained to hear what sounded like the door to the front of the tavern creaking upon its hinges. Stilling all but the rhythmic beat of his heart, the cook listened awhile longer for more signs, the subtle adjustments of a bar stool being moved confirming his hesitancy.

The bowl was placed gingerly atop the carving board, the remnants of sleep pushed rudely to the side as a spryness took its place. Aidan had had little experience in dealing with customers, lacking all the charm Kevith seemed to possess in large droves when it came to entertaining his guests. But then again, it couldn’t have been much different than conversing with anyone else outside of work.

Wiping the forming sweat from his hands off along the wool gray cloth of his apron, Aidan adjusted the rolled up sleeves of his tawny shirt and smoothed the hem along his neck. With confidence growing, he stepped out through the doorway that led behind the bar, and immediately took notice of… a dog? Oh yes, and a woman. A…rather attractive woman.

The soft smile that fed his lips was easy and far from overbearing, a hand brushing through his hair that pulled all the loose threads back across his scalp. Oh yes, he was off to a good start. It would only be a matter of chimes before he had this one wrapped around his little finger.

Swallowing to clear his throat, Aidan stepped towards the woman and her companion with tenacity bristling from his shoulders, his manner like a fine aged wine that knew it would delight its recipients taste buds. ”Welcome to The Rearing Sta--”

Aidan had of course meant to finish the sentence. And if it hadn’t been for a roaming cask of ale at his feet that Kevith had yet found the time to put away, he probably would have. But the moment his toe stubbed itself into the very full, very dense container of now sloshing liquid, the cook’s entire world fled into the dark shadows stashed away behind the bar.

With enough foresight to throw his hands out in front of him, Aidan’s torso struck with less severity against the planked surface of the floor. His body rebounded almost instantly, as all that mattered to him in those brief, terrifying moments was that the damage to his ego remained somewhat intact. That of course, was a fool’s wager no man with even an iota of intelligence was willing to take.

His unsteady left hand was the first to reach back up towards the edge of the bar, fingers amassing a vice like grip upon the surface as he hauled the rest of his body up slowly. Clearly in pain, though hardly broken by it, Aidan’s face was glazed by the blistering red of blood rushing to his face.

"Uh…Can I? Get you? Something?”

x

[Sigrun Dominic]

OOCI'm very sorry for taking so long, I got sick and lost the drive to write!

There was barely a sound coming from the kitchen. Sigrun listened to the trickling of the fires in the hearth nearby, closing her eyes and immersing herself in the comfort of its warmth. Snowe patiently sat on his barstool, his beady eyes scanning the large selection of spirits that lined the shelves. The canine then turned to his master and began pawing at her leg. Sigrun opened her eyes and turned over to the Inganu Deepwoods with a soft smile. She placed her hand upon his head and ran her fingers through his thick fur. She opened her mouth to tell the canine that there was no one around to cater to them, when she heard the sound of a solid object being placed upon a table. It was coming from the kitchen. Sigrun deadpanned, instinctively placing her free hand upon the pommel of her sheathed cutlass. Her grip tightened at the sound of footsteps, eyes widening with alertness until she caught sight of a young man in an apron. She sighed with relief and released her sword's hilt. She glanced over to Snowe with an amused smile as the young man began to speak. ”Welcome to The Rearing Sta--” But found it difficult to remain calm. The next thing she heard after the man's sentence had been cut off was a loud thud and the sound of clanging wine bottles. Sigrun's head jerked forward as she directed her gaze to him, her hands pushing herself forward over the tabletop as she leaned forward and looked over at him. "A-Are you alright?" she exclaimed, struggling to maintain balance on her tip-toes as she used the frame of the barstool for support. Just as quickly as she had said it, the young man was up on his feet and leaning towards her, his arms carrying the weight of his body as he flashed her a sheepish grin. Sigrun blushed at the sight of his blue eyes, a physical trait that she regarded as a weakness, but was more so abashed by their sudden close proximity. Snowe let out a soft whimper as he brought his paws up upon the table top, watching the pair. Her blushing face almost mimmicked the blood that rushed upon his, though she was certain that for him, it was more out of pain. She flashed him a shy smile and slowly lowered herself onto her barstool, gathering her hands in front of her and wrapping one over the other. "Uh…Can I? Get you? Something?” "Uhm, yes," she grinned, running a hand through her dirty blonde hair as she brought her eyes up to meet his, "I'd like some breakfast please." "Something for my dog, as well, and some ale." Chuckling to herself, she waited not a second longer to add more to her sentences. She furrowed her brows and regarded him with curiosity. "Are you new here? I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I've never seen you before." She brought out her hand for a shake. Snowe sat back down, his tail moving much quicker now as he anticipated the meal that he was to be having. "I'm Dominic."

[Aidan Sutter]

OOCWith writing like yours, such things can easily be forgiven.

Mortified, but also determined not to let his humiliation haunt him for the rest of his life, Aidan dispelled the shaking in his legs and forced himself to stand, distancing his body from the crutch of the bar’s surface. Tendrils of pain coiled around his toes like a sheath of fire, and a dull throbbing sensation pulsed from the center of his left knee.

Tightening his jaw line against the radiating ache, though no less pleasant when it came to the pursed smile he offered his guests, the chef simply nodded to her request for food and ale. It was all he could do at that moment to keep from letting his recuperating composure dissolve into a tear-streaked mess. Kevith would never trust his kitchen aide again if he knew the man had succumbed to a tantrum there on the tavern’s floor his first time out.

“Are you new here? I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I’ve never seen you before.”

Looking to rid his mind of any potential melodrama, Aidan’s hands fetched a pewter mug from behind the bar, her words settling like cherry blossoms falling upon a still pond to his ears. It brought peace to the tremors that still drew vicious circles around his nerves, and allowed him to pour her mug of ale without his hands getting in the way.

“I’m Dominic.”

Setting the frothing mug of dark brown ale before her, Aidan revealed a pearlescent grin and shook his head while accepting her hand. He couldn‘t help but notice that her skin, while soft where his thumb caressed the back, felt well worked along the palm.

“Aidan. And no. I’ve been around for a few seasons working in the kitchen. But they uh…don’t let me serve the customers all that often. Perhaps you can figure out why.”

Back to his old charms, an airy laugh fled from his lips as he released the woman’s hand, perhaps having held it for longer than he‘d originally intended. Aidan’s eyes quickly levitated towards that of her furry companion before the thought became too crippling, his features brightening considerably as he soaked in the dog’s gloriously white coat.

”And who do we have here?”

The cook wasn’t really sure as to the tavern’s stance on permitting canine companions into the establishment. Likely there was a health issue to be found somewhere along the way if one examined the bylaws. But right now, sitting as the dog was on a stool like a perfectly normal sentient being, Aidan found it hard to say no. And if it offered him company the likes of Dominic, well then all the more reason...

x

[Sigrun Dominic]

OOCWell, thank you! I could say the same for you.

Sigrun's eyes glistened at the sight of the mug before her, watching with awe as the ale was poured into it right in front of her. She subconsciously licked her lips and struggled with the urge to take a quick sip before continuing her little conversation with Aidan, but the young man saved her the trouble by accepting her handshake. She turned away from the mug and found herself safely locked under his gaze. “Aidan. And no. I’ve been around for a few seasons working in the kitchen." "Ah," Sigrun nodded, her gaze trailing down Aidan's eyes until they rested upon their locked hands, "I see." She'd never really seen the cooks working in the kitchens, as she was usually more keen on sitting right by the hearth, where the only people in sight were Keith, the serving girls, and the occasional bartender, whose face was hardly ever memorable. "Must've cooked my breakfast the last time I'd been here," she thought. The food was delicious that morning, with every portion of the meal made with excellence. She had to resist the urge to order up another round. "But they uh… Don’t let me serve the customers all that often. Perhaps you can figure out why.” His touch lingered, the feeling of his skin coming in contact with hers leaving an invisible mark on her palm. As he relinquished her hand, the tips of her fingers tingled. She let out a soft chuckle, using the ale as an excuse to hide the hint of a blush that quickly came and went. The young blonde raised her eyebrows as she flashed him a smirk. "I believe I have an idea." As the young man turned to examine Snowe, Sigrun took the opportunity to quickly look him over and assess him. A brunette with bright blue eyes and a hint of stubble riddling his jawline. Quite a decent build from what she could observe in just a couple of glances. Quite handsome, and also quite funny. She took another sip of ale. ”And who do we have here?” "Snowe," she turned to the canine and smiled sweetly, introducing him as if he were another human being, "his name is Snowe. He's my Inganu Deepwoods. He felt like going out today so I brought him along." "Had him since I was a kid." She gave the dog a playful pat on the head, and he responded by pawing at the air and whining softly. Her voice was calm and heavily laced with fondness, as if the message wasn't solely meant for Aidan, but had a much deeper meaning and intention to it. "Oh, I hope it's fine," she whipped her head around to face the young man, "I mean I've never brought him here before, I don't really take him out often, so I don't know what your policies are." She pointed over to the hardwood floors with a smile, "he could stay on the ground if, you know, you prefer that."

[Aidan Sutter]

“Snowe, his name is Snowe. He’s my Inganu Deepwoods. He felt like going out today so I brought him along.”

”Snowe…”

The name was barely held in whisper, though the sweet baritone of his voice made it easy to carry. Aidan’s experience with purebreds was stiflingly limited, the mutts that roamed around Sunberth usually a product of rampant, unrestricted breeding. To see an Inganu Deepwoods here, a creature he wasn’t even sure he knew to exist until this moment, left the man in curious awe. He had to fight the urge from blatantly petting it, a lesson he‘d learned uneasily from childhood.

“Had him since I was a kid.”

The inflection in her voice gave meaning to their relationship; one that had withstood the test of time and been the better for it. Aidan could draw from precious few experiences to match the fondness of the woman‘s words. In fact, none whatsoever came to mind. It left him feeling envious, and allowed for a wistful sigh to escape his lips.

The syrupy silence Aidan had amassed grew longer still when she reached up to pet the creature, a display of the canine’s ability to respond bringing a smirk to the cook’s marveling expression. The sensation of what it was like to be a child returned to him in an instant, an experience he begrudgingly admitted hadn’t changed all that much since he had grown into an adult. The only thing different perhaps, was the weight of responsibility, and even that had become suspect.

“Oh, I hope it's fine. I mean I've never brought him here before. I don't really take him out often, so I don't know what your policies are."

Her words broke the spell of torpor that had been cast over him, his jaw dropping with the intent to impede her words before her foot got stuck in her mouth. But the sweet cadence of her voice coupled with her inscrutable ability to read his thoughts left Aidan silent yet again. This clearly wasn’t what the man was accustomed to, and left the hint of a befuddled expression etched into the corners of his countenance.

“He could stay on the ground if, you know, you prefer that.”

A sharp tongue and a matching smile shattered whatever defenses Aidan had left, his eyes narrowing upon hers and quickly offering a lopsided, roguish smirk in return. He seemed to take comfort in her ability to tease, as a gentle, sarcastic laugh bubbled from his throat.

”I certainly don’t.” As though summoned, the pain in his knee sent a heated reminder along his nerve endings, to which a single eye caved slightly in a wince. ”He’s perfectly fine where he is. Besides, what better place than a tavern like the Rearing Stallion to pick up some tail, hm? A fine master of dogs like that needs to think of his legacy, after all.”

His hand gestured towards Snowe as though looking for a reciprocating sentiment, something he was more accustomed to doing when pandering to people that could actually understand him. But given the dog’s uncanny ability to perform like a human being thus far, Aidan didn’t discount the possibility.

Dropping his hand to the bar top so that his fingers thrummed quietly along the varnished edge, Aidan weighed the woman once again in his sights and smiled warmly.

”So how do you like your meat cooked? Bloodied, tendered, or charred? You‘re welcome to accomp'ny me to the back. No offense to Snowe of course, but given the rather deserted state of the tavern, I‘d loathe the thought of leaving someone like you apart from more…stim'lating company.”

x

[Sigrun Dominic]

"I certainly don’t." "Shykes," the young blonde thought. Her heart rate spiked, the sight of his smile tugging at the edges of her pupils. She shifted her gaze to the side for a moment, hoping to avert his, but it remained. It wasn't just the way he looked at her, it was also the way he spoke; the methods in which his voice would stress certain words in his sentences sent ripples through her torso. "He’s perfectly fine where he is. Besides, what better place than a tavern like the Rearing Stallion to pick up some tail, hm? A fine master of dogs like that needs to think of his legacy, after all." The young blonde chuckled, turning over to the canine as Aidan gestured over to him. Snowe thrust forward his snout and gave the young man a quick sniff, bringing out his tongue to lap at his wrist only to have it lick the air as he brought his hand down. She turned towards Aidan once more, eyeing his fingers as they drummed softly onto the wooden countertop, wondering briefly how skilled they were at cooking. Looking up to register his glistening blue eyes, she returned his infectious smile with one of her own. He was a charming fellow, and it seemed to flow out of him naturally; nothing about him appeared forced or embellished, and that was something to admire. "So how do you like your meat cooked? Bloodied, tendered, or charred? You‘re welcome to accomp'ny me to the back. No offense to Snowe of course, but given the rather deserted state of the tavern, I‘d loathe the thought of leaving someone like you apart from more…stim'lating company." Grinning, she glanced over at Snowe, who seemed more than content with his spot on the barstool. The canine gazed into Sigrun's eyes and seemed to know immediately what she'd been thinking. "Well, if you put it that way," she said, patting her dog on the head and mouthing for him to stay put. The canine shut his eyes for a moment, as if to say that he'd understood the command. She met gazes with him and smirked, keeping eye contact as she got off her barstool and rounded the counter to meet him behind the bar. Standing before him, she gestured over to the kitchen with her eyes. "Just to let you know," she began, her eyes trailing from his eyes, moving down his nosebridge and settling for a few seconds on his mouth, darting down towards his chin before returning to his deep blue irises, "I know next to nothing about cooking." Grinning, she settled down into a mischevious whisper, as if she were revealing a nasty secret. "So, I haven't a single clue on what you mean by bloodied, tendered, or charred." "But you're free to educate me."

[Aidan Sutter]

The weight of her ocean deep eyes upon him left the beat of Aidan’s heart pounding in his ears, a pinkish hue rising softly to his cheeks as she circled the bar and came to stand before him. But while her eyes were quite remarkable, it was in fact the woman’s darker brow line which lent the irises their power, and gave the man a small glimpse of who between them already wore the pants of their budding acquaintanceship. That thought alone seemed to stir within him an impish grin.

“Just to let you know, I know next to nothing about cooking. So I haven’t a single clue on what you mean by bloodied, tendered, or charred.”

Her words melded together like several streams siphoning out into a larger river, Aidan more attentive to their tone and the playful manner in which she gazed at him. Were he a bolder man, he might have tried his luck with a stabbing kiss right then and there, the vacant tavern more than inviting for impetuous behavior.

Such approaches fell beneath him, however, more comfortable with playing innocent little games that held few attachments. The grin that had possessed him earlier returned quickly, nonetheless.

“But you’re free to educate me.”

A knot spontaneously grew within his throat that forced the cook to swallow hard, his stubbled chin dipping down as his hand reached out for the door close by. Swinging the double hinged frame inwards towards the kitchen, Aidan invited Dominic to step through first with a simple tilting gesture of his head.

”Then educate you I shall…”

While polite on some levels, the young man did not hesitate to gaze upon certain assets when opportunities arose, his taste for particular appetites almost impossible to quell. Seemingly pleased by what his brisk evaluation of her revealed, Aidan could not help but take a simple sidelong glance at the cutlass sheathed against her hip. It made him wonder just how proficient she was with its cutting edge, and how willing she was to use it should he prove too forward.

The kitchen itself was set up with practicality over aesthetic appeal in mind. Almost everything was carved from stone except for a large oak table that was made to fit perfectly in the center of the room. Along one wall, and the source of the added warmth both felt, lay the brick hearth. Various iron hooks as well as grate propped over the fire awaited what meals needed prepared, the ember flames he’d stirred to life earlier now holding a rich amber glow as wood softly cracked and popped.

Placing a light hand across Dominic’s hip, Aidan slid politely past her while taking every precaution he needed to make her feel welcome rather than an intrusion.

”This is it,” he intoned with a certain sense of pride. ”Not much to look at, but thankfully it’s not the fixtures which give the food its savor.”

Aidan chuckled softly as he limped his way back to the large bowl sitting atop the table in the middle of the room. Eying Remi’s list he had left tucked beneath the cutting board, the man leaned one arm against the edge and placed a fair amount of weight on it.

Though able to mask the soreness stemming from his injuries quite well for the time being, he knew it would only return to haunt him later.

”I was just about to make some honey oat muffins before you came in and politely allowed me to make a fool of myself. Would you mind getting a wounded man’s pride that sack of white powdery stuff over there?”

His hand stretched up as his finger pointed to a small bag leaning against the far wall whose canvas top had been torn open and folded over neatly.

x

[Sigrun Dominic]

"Then educate you I shall…" Excitement filled the young blonde as she watched him move over to the kitchen, watching him intently as he pried open the kitchen door and eyed her a tilt of his head. Cooking was one of the few things the girl was genuinely interested in learning how to do. Sigrun entered the kitchen and paused by the doorway, her eyes scanning the plain, pale walls of the room as her hands busied themselves with her belt. She paused for a moment, her fingers slipped beneath the leather bands and the buckle, when she felt Aidan's hand briefly touch her hip as he passed by her. Her wandering eyes settled on the young man's back as she finished removing her belt, lifting it and the weight of her cutlass over to the wooden counter, the electricity of his brief contact with her hip lingering as she took in what he had to say. ”This is it. Not much to look at, but thankfully it’s not the fixtures which give the food its savor.” "It's the cook," she said, a little too slyly for her own liking, "isn't it?" She moved away from the young man to examine the many pots and pans that hung by the cupboards, raising her hand to brush her fingers against their iron surfaces as a soft, thoughtful hum escaped her lips. As she reached the utensils, she could hear Aidan working with a bowl by the counter. ”I was just about to make some honey oat muffins before you came in and politely allowed me to make a fool of myself. Would you mind getting a wounded man’s pride that sack of white powdery stuff over there?” Sigrun snorted at the mention of his little mishap over by the bar. But to be honest, it was quite the endearing sight. "Honey oat muffins?" she glanced over to face him, following his outstretched finger over to the sack. She licked her lips playfully and rubbed her stomach at the sound of the delectable dessert as she walked over towards it. "Sounds delicious!" she said enthusiastically, although more like an excited child than anything else, "and what else is on the menu?" She reached for the frayed ends of the canvas sack and dragged it over to the cook with an amused smile, the base of the bag bumping against the floor as she constantly lifted it up as if to test her strength. "And what else would you have me do?" she beamed up at him, her elbows resting against the counter as she leaned over to take a closer inspection of the contents of the bowl before him, "anything else to help ease your wounded pride?"

[Aidan Sutter]

Her ingenuous manner left a lingering smile that traced all the way up to the crow’s feet flanking each eye. The fare hardly seemed worthy of her excitations, but Dominic’s innocence in the matter allowed for his fond heart to remember what it was like within the reliquary of his earliest days. It left him in the present with an uncomfortable realization that he was not so young as he pretended.

Before Sunberthan politics had challenged his way of thinking, Aidan had been no more than a young boy with a passion for his art. To say he’d allowed himself to become a cynic was far from true, but aging had irrevocably changed him. And not in a way he might have hoped.

”Sausage links, and a small wedge of cheese,” he offered as an answer to her first question, interrupting the perilous stream of his conscience before it got the better of him.

Reaching up towards the ceiling, Aidan’s hand grasped the first link to a chain of intestine wrapped pork and spices. The meat hung from wooden dowels which were spaced evenly between the rafters, though only taking up so much room as where the table beneath it occupied.

The long rope slowly unwound like a snake slithering away from the shadows, coiling down to the table where Aidan counted each one to get an estimate of how much he had to work with. The tavern saw a fair amount of business in the morning from travelers inhabiting the Row, and some of them had appetites the likes of a Nuzem. What he had before at present hardly seemed enough.

To make matters worse, his search for honey turned up empty, which meant that the muffins would be little more than a semi-sweet bread with oats in them. Closer to horse feed than anything that would satiate the appetites of those looking for a hearty meal to start their day.

”Petch,” he silently mouthed as it was accompanied by a sigh, his hands moving to the side of the bowl as he rested them lightly around the ceramic ledge. His eyes stared down into its empty depths looking for answers.

“And what else would you have me do? Anything else to help ease your wounded pride?”

Her words momentarily froze the avenue his thoughts treaded, turning to gaze at her with a look of amusement and…something more, breeding like a flame to dried kindling.

”I could think of many things that you might do to help ease things,“ he said with no small amount of suggestive undertones, though his expression sobered enough to flatten his lips. “But unless you have an unnatural ability to make things multiply or produce honey from that already honeyed tongue of yours, what we got right now won‘t be enough.”

Biting his bottom lip, Aidan looked down to the sack of flour he’d asked her to retrieve, the glazed surface of his eyes now cast white by its reflection.

”Unless,” he picked up only two ticks later, ”we combine it all… What d’you say? Up for a little experim’ntation?”

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