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Moonflower was in the kitchen cooking something. It was a large pot and it smelled like apples and some spices, with a hint of something citrusy. The Baldesion Annex wasn’t equipped with a lot besides a basic stove and fireplace, but the Warrior of Light was an experienced culinarian, and always traveled with the tools she needed. Thankfully, at the moment she did not need more than a pot and a stirring spoon.
“What is it that smells so good in here?” came a familiar voice, making her smile.
Moonflower turned from the stove and greeted Raha with a kiss. “See for yourself, my sun.”
Curiously, he leaned over the pot, and frowned. “It’s… is it a soup?” He seemed a little nervous; if it were soup, he would have to eat it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to eat apple peels and whatever the mush was.
She laughed. “No! I’m making apple cider. It’s almost finished with the simmering phase.”
“And then?”
“And then, I’ll be straining out all the solids. After that, it’ll be ready to drink!”
Once more, he looked into the pot. He looked at her. “Will it taste as good as it smells?”
Moonflower rolled her eyes and nudged his arm. “Have I ever fed you anything that tastes bad, my sun?”
He backed away, hands up placatingly. “No, not even once.”
“Then trust me, you’ll love this. Come now, you like apples!”
“It’s brown!” he protested, making his beloved laugh.
“Just for that, I’ll make you a beef stew and make you eat brown,” she said, still laughing. Something chimed behind them and she turned off the heat. “Good thing you’re here, Raha. Help me strain this.”
He obliged, helping her set up a meshed bowl over another pot. It seemed she had made apple cider before, because she wasted no time squeezing out the juice from the solids. It was a laborious task, which he hadn’t expected, but he did what he could to make the process easier. The cider was strained several times to get out as much of the solids as possible.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she sighed when she declared them finished. Moonflower wiped her brow and relaxed her shoulders. “It usually takes me ages to do that part.”
Raha kissed her cheek. “Always happy to help, my moon.” He gestured to the lump she had extracted from the cider. “What do you plan to do with that?”
“Well, first, I’m going to rescue the cinnamon sticks,” she teased. After some searching, she found four cinnamon sticks and set them aside. “Later, I’ll be using the leftovers to make muffins. That way, nothing will be wasted.”
His ears and tail perked up excitedly at the mention. “Muffins?” Apple muffins! Now that was something he was interested in trying!
“I don’t know, do you deserve muffins after what you said?”
“No teasing, my love, please.” Raha widened his eyes and leaned toward her in an attempt to look cute; he knew he had succeeded when Moonflower blushed while laughing again. “May I have a muffin later?”
“Well, I suppose…” She bumped his nose affectionately with her own before pushing him away. “First, I have to make sure this is just the right amount of sweetness.”
While she was ladling a small amount into a glass, he asked the question that had been on his mind since he entered the kitchen. “Why did you make apple cider? Is there a special occasion?”
She smiled at him over her cup, and it was his turn to blush. “It’s become autumn, Raha. Do you remember what happened in autumn?”
“How could I forget?” No, if there was one thing he remembered with crystal clarity, it was that evening at her house, where she served him soup, bread, and vegetables in order to work up the courage to tell him she loved him. Even over a century of memories turning fuzzy and frayed, that evening stood out in his memory. He was too afraid of forgetting it.
The days that followed were among the memories that he was glad were restored to him upon his soul uniting with his younger self. He’d nearly forgotten they were playing a board game when they first kissed, among other memories. Memories that he was very tempted to reenact.
“Then you should know that apple cider is often served during autumn. I wanted to celebrate the season.” Smacking her lips, she frowned and turned to the cider. She stirred in some brown sugar and tested it again. This time, a smile came to her face, and she nodded. “Try this for me, please?”
Raha accepted the cup and sniffed. “It smells wonderful,” he said truthfully. He could smell cinnamon and other spices, although he could not name them. It blended well with the apples and the orange he had spotted. Finally, he sipped it.
Almost immediately, he tried to gulp the rest, but spluttered as the heat hit his throat too fast. Coughing, he said, “I enjoyed that very much, but perhaps I should have let it cool.”
Moonflower giggled. “Does it have your stamp of approval, my sun?”
“More than!” he answered, giving her an enthusiastic thumbs up. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. Now it’s time to bottle it up.”
“Shouldn’t we save some for our big star?”
“Cosmos will get some when she wakes up from her nap,” she promised. “For now, I want to save it to share with everyone. Maybe Y’shtola will give her stamp of approval too!”
He laughed, “You’re not worried about the others?” Everyone else was from Sharlayan, so he doubted that anyone would have tried this before.
“Y’shtola is reliant upon other senses, and has mentioned that her sense of taste is stronger now. I want to make sure she can enjoy it with everyone.” Moonflower muttered a little “aha!” when she found the glass bottles she had prepared earlier. “I’m not worried about the twins and I know Tataru and Krile will like it. Thancred and Urianger… It could go either way, but it’s hard to go wrong with something apple-flavored.”
Suddenly a memory came to him. “Strengthen me with raisin cakes, refresh me with apples, for I am sick with love.”
“Raha, must you quote poetry in the middle of the day?”
“I always did love apples,” he told her, slipping an arm around her waist. She tensed under his fingers.
“Raha, is there something about me cooking that makes you—”
“Yes.” He kissed her neck, her weak spot, and loved her shiver. “Let’s see how fast you can bottle this before I make you mine.”
Moonflower usually worked well under pressure, but she only just barely resisted his attentions, nearly abandoning her task several times. Before long, however, everything was bottled and put away, and she came to his arms.
Instead of dripping honey, her lips tasted of apples and cinnamon.