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"I've had enough."
Ibis' voice wasn't loud, but heavy with conviction. He closed his eyes and let go a deep, almost ragged sigh, one that actually relieved him as he had definitely been holding it in for days now. With that, it felt like he finally had some inner peace, like a dandelion seed picked up by the wind. His current situation might still be... problematic, but accepting that he'd no longer tolerate it proved immensely cathartic. He stood up, keeping his eyes shut as he spoke again:
"From now on, I'll be holding instruction every other day, from mid-morning to noon, at the top of the Spire. Should either of you have any questions for me, you may find me there. This is not mandatory, attend as often or as little as you like. Once new volunteers and acolytes arrive in the coming months, this policy may change, but until then is final. At any other time during the day, I implore you not to bother me in my private chambers, the kitchen, the lands surrounding the Spire, or any other such spot we may unfortunately cross one another--unless it is an absolute emergency. That is all."
Silence. Sweet, golden silence. Just the way it used to be.
Ibis opened his eyes and frowned deeply at the mess before him. It was a small, round table, set neatly for lunch, just outside the kitchen in a more cozy, intimate space than the dining hall. He supposed that had been a mistake. Azymondias, ever appreciative of his cooking, sat to his right, though he didn't need to be there. He felt bad the young prince had to see his outburst, hoping he understood that his frustration was very much not directed at him.
No, it was at the two--ugh--Heroes of the Spire in front of him. What a bloated, farcical title for the pair. If only that dolt-ish crownsguard hadn't coined it during the post-battle festivities. Heroes could keep their emotions in check, not let them spew everywhere in a nauseating display at all times of the day. Callum and Rayla had pulled their chairs in closer together, off-setting the balanced seating he had arranged. In the five minutes they had been there, there had been a disgusting, giggly fit of feetsies, a couple shoulder- and face-touches that held for far too long, and a thinly-veiled suggestion that he was very much trying to forget.
"Why? Is something wrong?"
"Yeah, what's got yer pants in a twist?"
Ibis snapped.
"What's got my pants in a twist?!" He could feel his face flushing, fueling the tirade he'd been dreaming of for the past couple nights. "Why can't you keep yours on?! It hasn't even been a week since everyone else left, and I have witnessed enough hormones to last ten lifetimes. Honestly," he finished with a huff, then grimaced again. "Even now, I'm doing my best to ignore why your hands are moving under the table, Prince Callum-"
Callum, as red as his vest, tried to raise the offending hands but just slammed them into the underside of the table. "-I was just-"
Rayla, her pale purple skin now verging on maroon, shuffled her chair away. "-He wasn't doing anything-"
"-Of course." A shorter, more violent sigh. "It's not like I haven't noticed you sneaking into his room each night either, young lady--some moonshadow assassin you are. As it turns out, it's very easy for a sky mage to detect the air shifting as you open and close doors all evening long." Truth be told, he felt embarrassed for them as well, a compassionate kernel in his mind reminding him of his own confusing youth. However, discretion was perhaps never taught painlessly.
At that they stopped protesting, too stunned and mortified to even pick their jaws off the floor. Ibis rolled his eyes and pressed on, "I am not here to be a babysitter. That much I need to make abundantly clear. Nevertheless, the queen trusts you two, and therefore so will I. You are free to stay here in whatever capacity you need, but I refuse to be an unwilling witness while you both figure this--" he waved a hand at them "--out. Therefore, I think some, ah, independent study will be good for all of us. Just, by the winds, do not let me notice."
The shocked silence persisted. Well, this wasn't exactly the peaceful quiet he was yearning for, but definitely a necessary one. It did appear lunch was ruined, however. Oh well.
"Azymondias, you are more than welcome to join me in my study for refreshments." The tiny dragon brightened at that. Ibis plucked the serving tray off the table, walking with a righteous stomp towards the exit, the dragon prince in tow. "For the two of you, I might recommend that your first lesson be cooking your own dinner."
--
Human Culture Norms: Advanced Bread Usage
"All I'm saying is, maybe he has a point." His words didn't stop him from running his hand down Rayla's cheek as she laid back, resting her head on his thigh. Here, in the confines of the furthest bedroom they could find from Ibis' study, he felt safe enough to revel in the warm, happy feelings he'd been harboring for over a month now. Nobody was set to arrive for weeks, at least. In that sense, this unassigned room could be a safe haven. Hopefully.
"He does. A stupid one." She slammed her first into the mattress. "If he doesn't want to see then maybe quit looking? Nobody asked him to baby us, and now he's making a right mess over it." She pouted, stuck-out lip and all, in an indignant, dramatic way he'd rarely seen before. It was incredibly endearing, but, perhaps wisely, he was afraid to tell her that.
He tapped her nose, causing her face to scrunch up. "I think he thought he was being nice. He didn't have to cook for us everyday-"
"-Am warning you Callum, if ye keep taking his side, am going to have to resort to extreme measures!" She brought her hands up, jabbing at his incredibly sensitive and ticklish sides.
He felt his whole body seize up, a startled half-giggle getting caught in his throat. "No no! Not- not taking any side!" They stared at eachother, caught in a stand-off. He shook his head pleadingly. Only when she smirked to herself and put those torturous hands away, did he breathe again. "You're cruel, you know that?"
"Aw, am no!" She grabbed the sides of his face and guided it down to hers, placing a soft kiss. "A bit--what ye call it--hangry, though? Maybe." She picked herself up and got off the bed, offering a hand. "Perhaps we should fix up something to eat."
He took it, still taking a moment to lean against her as they stood in the middle of the small room. He didn't really want to leave. "Sure. Let's go."
The kitchen within the Dragonguard dormitiories seemed impressive, although Callum admittedly knew very little about culinary matters. It was far from the royal amenities he was used to, but for a construction that was meant to hold maybe a dozen people at a time, it was surprisingly well-stocked. There was an oven and a chimneyed hearth, a lot of table space to move from and work, and a stocked, cool cellar beneath. All would have been incredibly useful if he knew how to cook.
"So, what's for supper?" Rayla asked.
"I don't know? I've hardly ever cooked anything before." At her perplexed stare he clarified, "I was--and well, still am, I guess--a prince. In Katolis, we had chefs make our food every day. I've never spent much time a kitchen."
"Oh right, excuse me m'lord, I forgot am in the presence of royalty." Rayla rolled her eyes and bowed into a horrendously-bad curtsy. As she rose back up, she looked around the room and exhaled. "Guess it's up to me, hmm? I suppose I am the most qualified, seeing as I prepared whatever we caught on the road. Got my hands dirty and everything."
At that, an idea floated lazily to the surface. It wasn't perfect, but it reminded him of warm, happy memories; perhaps something he wanted to share with her. "Well, there's actually one recipe I do know. Sort of."
"Oh really? Would it be any better than my world-famous--what'd ye call 'em--shishy-dabs?"
"Shishkebabs." He pulled at face at that. "Though we both learned that putting random roots and meats on a stick has, uh, extremely varied results-"
"Hey! I thought it was always pretty good. It was always Ez and ye with the sensitive stomachs." She shrugged. "Fine though, what's this 'sort-of recipe' ye got?"
Callum smiled, thinking back to simpler times. "There's this small Katolan holiday, at the beginning of winter--Burrowing Day. It was originally a day set aside to prepare for the cold, but it's mostly become a time to stay inside with your family, playing silly games and telling stories. One of the old traditions remains though; everyone sits around and makes dumplings together. It's supposed to be good luck if you help. I know it sounds kind of dorky, but my parents liked it. Even when it was just my step-dad with Ez and I, he always made time to make them with us."
"That's sweet," she came up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "but also what's a dumpling?"
"Oh, right. Well, it's usually cheese and potatoes wrapped in dough, then boiled until it's cooked. I think you can do other fillings though-"
"Hold on just a tick. Do you mean to tell me there're other human foods where all ye do is wrap the tasty bits in bread? Why am I no surprised?" She shook her head, incredulous. "Fine, but yer lucky yer goofy smiling convinced me--well, and also that I'm starving. So, where should we start?"
--
He definitely should've asked if Rayla would make the dough. He watched her wrap up her work in the corner of his eye, mashing the last of the boiled tubers and other elven produce into a pillowy filling. Meanwhile, he was still guessing away at the right proportions. He'd read somewhere that the basic idea was flour, eggs, and water, two of which were causing him problems. The flour was heavy and coarse, milled from a rare Xadian plant according to the elf. Also, they had no eggs, so he was making do with some oil he found in the cellar. He knew what the finished dough should look and feel like, but that felt leagues away from the sticky, lumpy mess in front of him.
She hopped up on the table next to where he worked. "Ooh, looks scrumptious."
"Thanks," he said flatly. "I'm hoping just a bit more flour does the trick." Taking a small handful from the clay jar, he started working it in, kneading with his palms and thumbs. Truth be told, his arms were starting to really ache, as he'd been fighting with this abominable dough for almost half an hour now. It was close, though--he hoped. It had to be. He just couldn't let Rayla see him give in, as the irony of a human failing to make humanity's signature food would not be lost on her.
"Are ye sure these dumplings are worth all this effort?" she asked after a while. Scooting closer, she started running her fingers along his shoulder. "We could just eat what I made and call it a night."
"No... I don't... mind," he managed between breaths. "They're... really good."
She smiled. "Okay... that's also fine by me." She kept touching his shoulder, lingering on the slight, sinewy muscles flexing from his ministrations. Callum felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he noticed her eyes doing much the same. He tried to ignore it as he kept working in the dough, but a soft sigh from her broke the ice.
"Uh, Rayla--" he chuckled nervously "--you, er, having fun there?"
"Hmm?" She stared for a few heartbeats longer, then looked up to him and her eyes widened. Maroon seeped into her cheeks and along her ears, now looking anywhere but at him. "Oh! Ah, right! I was just, ye know..." She gestured vaguely at the air for a moment, then let go with an exhale. "Ach, I don't know! Well, okay, I do. And... oh, ye probably do too- ugh, stupid Ibis! If... If he hadn't drawn such a fuss I wouldn't be all like this; getting worked up like I'm sweet on someone for the first time."
"Oh?" He fought to keep a proud, goofy grin off his face. His kneading slowed as he observed the ball of dough before him; it was as good as it'd ever be, he supposed. "And... and who was that?"
More stumbling over words and staring at the ceiling. It was decidedly an endearing look on her. "Look, it's no important. What's important is what this foul skywing wizard has done."
Callum chewed his lip as he worked on rolling out the dough, cutting out small circles as he went. Splitting his concentration between that and this conversation wasn't perhaps the best idea. But he was also hungry. "What did he do?"
"What did he do? He made things all weird! This is our place now too, ye know. Like I said before, if he didn't want to see, then don't look." She crossed her arms and frowned.
"Sure, but he did also make it less weird. Giving us a lot of space and all that." He placed the circular slabs of a dough aside and began re-rolling the leftovers. "We'll need the filling you made now."
Rayla groaned and hopped off the table, retrieving the small pot. "I suppose. Still, it's no fair to be crammed away in the world tiniest bedroom." She sided up next to him, putting the filling down.
"Is it really that terrible being so close to me?" He placed a dramatic hand on his chest.
"Nae, I guess no," she said, softer this time. The pout lingered. "Ye know what I mean, though."
"Maybe..." He took one of the pieces of dough and handed another to Rayla. "Here, let me show you how to make these. It's really easy." He scooped out a small portion of filling and placed it squarely in the center. "You don't need too much, then just fold it and start pinching it closed like this. Yeah, there you go, just like that."
After a moment of quiet concentration, she held up the small semi-circle dumpling. "Huh. I suppose that wasn't too bad. So now we just boil them and then we can eat?" At his nod, she smiled. "Ah thank the moon! I'm just so hungry--no thanks to Ibis taking lunch away."
Callum frowned as he started on another one. This problem wasn't going to go away on its own. "Why don't we do the second part of making dumplings?"
"There's a second part?" She cocked her head quizzically. "But you just said this lil' cutie is all ready to be cooked and eaten."
"Well sure, but we got to make the rest before we can boil them." He sucked in a breath, the anxiety welling in his gut. "When it was the three of us, we'd always do some Big Feelings Time-"
"Oh nae." She dropped her next half-made dumpling.
"Yup!" He hoped the added dose of positivity would help convince her. She'd been extra grumpy all afternoon. "It'll be nice, I promise!"
"Callum, please. I'm all for eating yer silly human food but am no sure I can do that too."
"You can." He leaned into her as he pinched another dumpling together. "We're a thing. People in things tell eachother the things that bother them--"
"--how eloquent--"
"--so the other person can make them feel better. And then once all that's over, these will be hot and ready to eat." He put the finished dumpling down so he could wrap his arms around her shoulders. "You don't have to say a lot. But I can tell you're stressed and I just want to help. Please?"
Her eyes met his for a moment. He could see the scales tipping and balancing in her head. "Fine." She sighed, shrugging him off gently so she could continue folding. "But none of those big, sappy eyes ye do. Just keep making these."
He nodded and tried to focus on the task at hand--yet he couldn't help but hear her breathing, fighting to get it steady. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her pinching stop and start. He wasn't doing very well.
"I... don't think I know what am doing." Silence. Just the two of them, slowing folding the dumplings together. Only the soft pressing of dough. "It's new. Everything. Very fun too, aye, so I think that's why it hurt to be told to stop. In a way, I suppose."
She placed her finished one next to his, building a small collection. More dough, more filling, more folding. The small taps of fingers coming together. "Or maybe I was just plain embarrassed? Well, I mean, of course. I don't think I'll ever forget the feeling at lunch." She managed a weak chuckle. "But, since, ye know... this is new, and maybe am no sure how to do all this, it hurt a little bit more. A lot more? I don't know."
Callum struggled through the next dumpling, the sealing uneven. He wanted to let her know so many things, good and better, comforting and uplifting. He could hear the softer pains for once and those almost hurt more--but the sacred rules had to be upheld.
"Ye asked earlier, who was the first person I took a liking to. Well, outside a silly thought or two from when I was in school--" her voice softened "--it's only really been you. I was always too busy training with Runaan or out exploring, never had much time for boys my age. Never thought it'd be worth it. And then you came along--soon enough my stomach is swirling every time you looked at me. Somehow it worked out though, huh?"
He put down another completed "lil' cutie", now making a neat pile, and dared to bend the rules. He put one hand over hers, keeping his eyes to the table. No words. His thumb ran up and down the side of her palm.
"I think yer right sometimes. About Ibis. I know it was probably a bit too much, that he had to say something. But I still- I... I can't stand how it feels. I can only imagine it's confusing with yer first... thing, but with a human? With somebody ye were told to despise as a wean? Am sure Ibis didn't mean it this way, but it hurts when somebody gets angry at us, because I can't help but feel like that's a part of it. And... and then it also hurts because I don't know what am doing. And then it hurts because it's really, really nice, Callum, getting to be all soft and mushy now when we couldn't before."
He could feel her eyes on him. The corners of his began to sting, hot and wet.
"I don't know how long we'll get to be like this, cooped away from the world for a bit. I just want to enjoy it, ye know?"
No sacred rules could stop him now. He wrapped her up in the biggest hug he could manage, leaning onto her as much as she did to him. He wasn't really sure who the sniffling or shushing was coming from.
"It'll be okay. I think I know how to smooth things over. And Rayla..." he tightened his arms around her, "I hear your feelings, I'm really-"
"Ugh, you ruined it." She laughed into his vest, cutting through the tears. "Dummy."
--
"Okay, moment of truth." Rayla scooped a dumpling off the platter, giving it an experimental bite. Back in their new room, she sat against the headboard next to him, pressed close as the bed wasn't really meant for two. They'd make it work anyway.
"And?" Callum asked, eyebrows raised.
She hummed appreciatively, warmly, giving him a big nod. She closed her eyes and finished the rest, slumping into his shoulder. "All right, maybe this bread thing is barely starting to make sense. So, thanks. For everything, though."
"Of course." He kissed her forehead, then stole a dumpling for himself. "Though I wonder if Ibis will appreciate them as much as you do."
Though they couldn't tell, far down the hall, another elf was having a similar, pleasant experience. Their peace offering did give him some guilt, though--perhaps he had been too harsh. He would have to make it up to them some way.