CHAPTER 872: NYRIELLE’S COOKING

"And I love you, my darling," Nyrielle said with a smile as she worked carefully to assemble the dish she intended to present to Ashlynn.

She’d only taken a few lessons from Georg since returning to the Vale, and he insisted that the dishes she was learning were ones that Ashlynn would enjoy, even though they were simple to prepare.

Now, at the final stage of putting everything together, Nyrielle found herself struggling to balance her artist’s eye with the task of assembling a plate of food. Georg always worked to make his plates artistically appealing, but he also served up small portions that he knew suited the preferences of vampires.

Ashlynn, however, needed to replenish herself after a long day of work with her coven, followed by intense healing, and Nyrielle wanted to make sure there was plenty for Ashlynn to eat, even if the proportions and balance of color on the plate fell short of her sense of artistry.

She started by opening an earthenware crock that released a cloud of savory, herbaceous steam as soon as the lid was removed. From within the crock, she carefully spooned a hearty portion of dull green colored barley porridge onto Ashlynn’s plate. It didn’t look as bright and vibrant as Georg’s, but the smell was right, and when Nyrielle tested one of the grains, she found it to be as delicate and tender as it should be.

From another, much larger earthenware crock, Nyrielle carefully retrieved a delicate filet of butter-poached mudfish that was so tender that it nearly flaked apart before she could rest it on the bed of barley porridge she’d prepared.

"It may not be as pretty as Georg’s cooking," Nyrielle admitted as she reached into a small wooden bowl for a pinch of freshly chopped herbs to sprinkle over the top of the fish. "But it should still be very tasty," she said.

She’d spent decades learning how to paint, beginning with simple charcoal drawings and working her way up to the sweeping vistas and landscapes crafted from layers of carefully blended oil paints that she displayed throughout the ancient fortress.

Now, she was honest enough to admit that her cooking fell far short of the kind of artistry on a plate that she wanted to present her lover with, but in a way, that was fine. Georg had honed his craft for most of his life, and all it took was one look at the affection and anticipation on Ashlynn’s face to give Nyrielle the motivation to spend decades practicing dishes that would delight her beloved.

"It smells wonderful," Ashlynn praised from her seat at the table, sitting up straighter as she tried to catch a glimpse of what Nyrielle was preparing for her before she forced herself to sit calmly and wait patiently.

"Most of it does," Nyrielle said, frowning in disappointment when she pulled the iron lid off of a large iron pot to reveal a loaf of bread that had swelled up so much in the pot that the top of the loaf stuck to the lid. Part of the top of the loaf tore away when she removed the lid, and the rest of the crust was blackened and burned, giving off a sharp, acrid smell that overpowered the faint nuttiness of what should have been a soft, spongy bread.

"I should have set this aside earlier," she sighed with disappointment. She wanted to make sure that it stayed warm and fresh, but clearly there was a limit to how long it could be left in the pot to ’keep warm’, though she supposed it still would have been ruined just by virtue of sticking to the lid.

"Let me see," Ashlynn said, getting up from her seat and joining Nyrielle at the table where she was preparing their plates. "I can salvage this," she said confidently as she looked around for a long slicing knife and a pair of serving tongs that she could use to retrieve the loaf from the pot.

"Here, I’ll take care of the bread while you put the rest together," Ashlynn said as she leaned close to Nyrielle and bestowed a soft peck on the other woman’s cheek. "You, um, you don’t mind do you?" Ashlynn asked hesitantly as it occurred to her that Nyrielle had worked so hard to create this moment for her and that her lover might not want help in finishing it.

"I don’t mind," Nyrielle said with a light laugh, shaking her head slightly and tapping Ashlynn softly on the forehead. "But did you have to use a word like ’salvage’, my darling?" Nyrielle teased. "My poor loaf of bread isn’t some ancient ruin to haul stones from..."

"No," Ashlynn said as she began to carefully slice away the burned exterior and the layer of dried, tough bread beneath the crust, revealing a core that was still soft and springy like it should be.

"Nothing ancient or ruined," she said with a soft smile. "Just something soft and tender on the inside, underneath a crust that got a little hard and scorched, protecting the important part," Ashlynn said as she reached out and briefly held Nyrielle’s hand.

"All right, oh wise one," Nyrielle said as she moved on to the next dish, removing a lid to reveal a pot filled with soft, delicate apples swimming in a sauce of butter, sugar, cinnamon, cloves, and cardamom. "Show me how you’re going to ’salvage’ my poor loaf of bread."

"I learned this from Ollie when we were in the Summer Villa," Ashlynn said as she took two slices of soft, crustless bread and slathered a thin layer of soft butter on them before sprinkling more freshly chopped herbs over the butter and bringing them to the fire. "A little bit of butter and some fresh herbs, and you can put a ’fake crust’ on the bread," she said as she carefully set the slices of bread over the fire.

"You have to be careful and watch them closely," she said as she flipped the slices of bread over as soon as the butter began to sizzle. "But this way nothing goes to waste."

For a moment, Nyrielle said nothing, just standing in perfect stillness as she watched the warm glow of the hearth highlighting Ashlynn’s pale blond hair and soft, delicate features.

Her darling had just climbed out of bed, her hair was still askew, and she was wearing nothing but the comfortable nightdress that Nyrielle had helped her into after Lennart brought the sleeping witch to her chambers, but in that moment, Nyrielle found Ashlynn’s beauty to be absolutely captivating.

"Ashlynn, my darling," Nyrielle said softly, surprising the younger woman when she used her name. "Do you think that I could join you and your coven from time to time when you cook together?" Nyrielle asked hesitantly. "I don’t want to intrude on something that you share with them..."

"Of course you can," Ashlynn said, nearly dropping the ’salvaged’ bread in the fire in her haste to return to Nyrielle’s side. But as soon as the freshly toasted slices were resting safely on their plates, she flung her arms around the other woman and held her close.

"I’ve wanted to cook for you, too," she said softly. "There just hasn’t been the time, but... I like this. I like it a lot," she added as she clutched Nyrielle tightly. "And I want more of these moments with you. Many, many more of them..."

"Always so willful," Nyrielle said with a light, musical laugh. "But then, I suppose I’ll just have to indulge you..."

The meal they shared that night was a simple one. The most extravagant thing about any of it was the amount of butter used in poaching the fish and the apples, and the number of spices that found their way into the pot along with the apples, but none of it required extraordinary skill from the cook preparing the meal.

And yet, for Ashlynn and Nyrielle, it was one of the most flavorful meals they’d shared, simmered in the warmth and affection they had for each other as they set aside the concerns of the world outside. Later, they would once again be the Mother of Trees and the Harbinger of Death. They would face their enemies in battle soon enough, but right now, they put all of that aside to be Ashlynn and Nyrielle, two women in love, sharing a meal and each other’s company.

It was a quiet night filled with warmth, one that would sustain them both through the many cold nights to come...