Chapter Text
Lysithea hurried over to the double doors down the promenade that led to the dining hall, holding the last ingredient she needed for her planned desert, carefully wrapped up in cloth to deflect prying eyes. Her eyes darted from one direction to the other, keen to be sure that no one was around to get curious about what she was doing outside of her usual locations of the library or the reception hall. For what she wanted to do, she didn't want anyone's assistance for the task at hand... or any moochers for that matter. The cake she had in mind had to be made by her hands alone.
Perhaps the small amount of paranoia may have been much, but a special day was approaching. Professor Byleth's birthday was tomorrow, and Claude was doing his best to keep it hidden from their teacher that they were planning anything at all, wanting to surprise the stoic man. Hilda concocted the idea that the Golden Deer should throw a surprise party for him, and everyone was to chip in and get him a gift along with whatever food they could get their hands on. A collective effort that the class agreed on, but Lysithea wanted to go a little further.
In the few months that she had known him, she had come to greatly appreciate the treatment he had given her. He acknowledged the effort she put into her work rather than credit her twin Crests for being mostly responsible for it, and never once looked down upon her as a child, unlike many of the other students. With that in mind she wanted to make his special day even better by delivering to him a personal gift to show her happiness about having his respect, and what better way to do so than with sweets made by her own hand?
She planted a shoulder on one of the doors and nudged it open, glancing around the spacious hall for any sign of another presence. Satisfied that there was no one present, especially considering she had asked the chefs for privacy during this time, she slid herself inside and shut the door behind her.
Away from potentially any curious passersby, she now calmly walked over to the countertop behind the buffet table where the remaining ingredients resided. Eggs, flour, milk, sugar, oil, along with the utensils she needed to begin courtesy of the chefs, and the final ingredient that she held in her hand. She daintily unfolded the cloth and revealed the prize inside: a bar of chocolate that she had bought from Anna after some... tense haggling. The merchant had been keen about the price as chocolate was a rarity in Fódlan that had to be imported from Brigid, but it had been worth the effort. She set the chocolate down with the rest of the ingredients and surveyed all she had ready for herself, satisfied that it all came together so well.
That was when she felt her body start to tense up as she bit down on her lower lip, letting out a nervous hum as she went over to grab the recipe sheet. Truth be told, despite her love of sweets she, ironically, never took the time to learn how to bake them herself. So focused on her ultimate goal of dissolving her House that she shrugged off needing to learn the skill, not seeing any way how being a baker would help to accomplish that goal. She never wanted to admit aloud about her shortcoming, so she met with the head chef privately to arrange for the dining hall to be vacant so that no one would have to know. So far, everything had went well, but it was one thing to set everything up, and entirely another to execute it.
Swallowing the nervous lump in her throat, she steeled herself and set to work. First she set about lighting the oven up by shooting a simple fire spell inside, albeit a weak one as to not launch the fuel inside in her face. The oven blazed to life inside, shooting several flares out that she managed to avoid by strafing before it settled down to a more workable level.
She headed back to the countertop, rolled up her sleeves, and heft the bag of flour up into her arms. It was a lot heavier than she thought it was, as evidence by her knees feeling as though they were going to buckle any moment under the pressure. Carefully as she could, she poured the flour into her mixing bowl, but the sudden shift of weight leaving the bag caused her to inadvertently spill some in front of her, the dust billowing into the air and powdering her uniform a faint white. She groaned aloud at her blunder as things were starting off poorly for her.
Why must flour weigh so much?! She took a moment to collect herself as she pinched the bridge of her nose. There wasn't any point in getting upset over something that was her fault for rushing and not measuring it out beforehand.
She looked over her recipe sheet again, and this time brought over a cup to pour in the amount of water as specified by it. Setting it aside, she brought over a pitcher and went over to dip it into a nearby bucket full of water, this time taking care to only fill it up to the point where she could comfortably walk with it. Once she felt it starting to get heavy in her hands, she brought the pitcher close to her chest and poured its contents into the cup, and fortunately not repeating her prior mistake. However the cup did not reach the full amount, and she returned back for a second trip whilst rolling her eyes. She would have to get in touch with the professor about improving her physical strength at some point soon.
With the water in the flour now, she took three of the eggs and cracked them against the edge of the counter with enough force to not have the yolks becoming a splattered mess in her hand. One after another she broke the shells and dumped their contents into her mix before all three were in there, orbs of yellow sitting atop a layer of mush. Once that was complete she poured a smaller portion of milk into the batter, made significantly easier by virtue of a smaller container for it.
With nothing wrong happening with the remaining mixture, she located a small stool off on the other side of the counter. Owing to her height, she needed the extra boost to not make her next step awkward for her. Gritting her teeth at her vertically-challenged state, she placed a pot on top of the stove that was lit from before, and afterward taking a knife out of one of the drawers and brought her chocolate to the cutting board. As she looked upon it she could feel her mouth beginning to salivate, wanting to indulge in the delicacy, but was forced to resist the urge as it was not meant for her... though she did hope the professor would share a slice or many. With some effort she chopped the bar into more workable pieces, then placed them into a separate bowl that would fit into the pot and allow the chocolate to melt.
While waiting for the chocolate she grabbed a mixing spoon from a drawer and went to stirring her batter. So far everything was going well with her baking if she ignored her spillage from before. A part of her greatly wanted to try out the cake once it was finished as, if everything continued as it was, it would be her first culinary success. She contemplated how Professor Byleth would react to trying it for himself, pondering if she might get one his rare smiles from how delectable it would be. She could practically visualize it in her head, how soft and warm that smile was compared to the normally cold, stony exterior that she and everyone else knew him for. It was enough that her heart began to beat a little bit faster at the sight and...
Oh focus, Lysithea! You don't have time for these childish fantasies!
Every now and then she would glance over to the chocolate to see its progress with some amount of urgency. Her arms were growing tired from the constant stirring, and she still needed to add the chocolate into it. When she couldn't take it anymore, she set the bowl down and gave her exhausted arms a short break. She walked over and checked the chocolate again and smiled as it had now melted completely and was ready to go. She reached to grab the bowl, but quickly retracted when she realized she might very well burn herself, so after a quick search through the drawers she found a pair of gloves and slipped them on. Now protected, she once more stepped up onto the stool and took the pot into her covered hands.
“Ah!” she shouted, having underestimated just how hot the pot had become, the gloves not doing enough to shield her as she instantly discovered. She lost her grip on the pot as she stumbled backward, a loud and metallic ringing echoing through the hall while the stool leaned with her and causing her to fall back. Her mind blanked out as she fell, until the back of her head made full contact with the countertop behind her, sending jolts of pain throughout her tiny frame as she let out a pained yell. The force of the collision was strong enough that the bowl she set down jostled enough to crash to the floor, spilling out its contents and making a large, ugly streak with some of it getting on her hand.
All Lysithea could do was sit on the floor as her head throbbed, and her vision blurring somewhat. She didn't dare move up, just desiring to remain still in her spot as she placed a hand on the lump that was beginning to form, stinging a bit from the simple contact. She looked over to the splattered batter on the floor with dismay, her work and effort now nothing more than a mess to be cleaned. The air started to be filled with the revolting scent of burning chocolate, with traces of smoke growing slowly thicker the longer she sat on the floor recovering.
She wanted to cry with how the day was going, but all she could do was chide and berate herself over wasting all that effort she made. The haggling for the chocolate which was now ruined, the surprising and tiring struggle that it was to get the batter prepared for the oven. All of it gone now, and now she would have to do it all over again. The batter she could at least redo, but the chocolate... she had already spent some of what she had for it, in addition to what she contributed to the group, and had little gold of her own left now.
She stared at the floor with knitted brows, trying to come up with some way to salvage all this. Perhaps the chefs would have something stored away that could help her out.
“Oh goodness!” she heard a soft voice exclaim from the direction of the doorway. “What happened here?!” Having been at the monastery long enough, she recognized the owner of the voice as Mercedes. Though she couldn't see her, she could hear the much older girl jog over until she came around the counter, where she gasped at Lysithea lying on the floor, dazed and depressed. “Lysithea! Are you okay?!”
“Mercedes...” she utter slowly. She was coherent enough to lift her unoccupied arm and point toward the pot of burning chocolate. “Take... that off before something worse happens.”
As if somehow having completely forgotten the smell, Mercedes rapidly turned to remind herself of the danger and rushed over to the drawers, finding one with apparent practice precision, and pulling out a pair of gloves that appeared to be much more insulated than the ones that still covered Lysithea's. Carefully the pious woman lifted the smoking stove and placed it on the one next to it. She briefly swatted away at the smoke before removing her gloves and putting them on counter.
“Here Lysithea,” said Mercedes, kneeling down next to the white-haired girl. “Let me see your injury.”
Lysithea, reluctantly, did as requested, now humiliated that someone saw her in such a state. She leaned far enough forward for Mercedes to assess the wound, the woman humming as Lysithea uncovered it. “Oh! That's quite a lump you have there. Don't worry, a little healing magic and it will be gone in no time!” Lysithea let out a grumble as she felt like she was being babied by Mercedes, but said nothing otherwise as she was grateful that someone arrived to mildly ease her predicament. The last thing she wanted was for the oven to catch fire and being engulfed in the flames.
Mercedes closed her eyes as her hands began to glow a brilliant white before putting them on Lysithea's wound. It was a warm, soothing touch as the magic slowly spread around her injury, the pain subsiding gradually while the rest of her began to relax as the shock faded away. The lump decreased in size at the same rate as the pain, until finally it disappeared, the patient breathing a sigh of relief when it did.
The older woman pulled away her arms and stood above Lysithea. “There you are, as if nothing happened at all.” She then extended her hand to her. “Let me help you up.”
Knowing that she could manage, but not wanting to appear ungrateful, Lysithea took her hand and she was helped back to her feet. Lysithea instinctively rubbed the now healed spot to ensure it was gone with her clean hand.
“Thank you for the timely aid, Mercedes,” said Lysithea as she removed the messy glove from her hand and patted off what flour dust she could from her uniform. “You must have heard me yell out when I tripped.”
“Actually it was the burning smell that brought me here,” Mercedes admitted as she clasped her hands in front of her waist. “I was on my way to the cathedral to pray when I began to smell smoke and burnt chocolate. I didn't hear any movement inside, so I decided it would be best if I saw what was happening, and that's when I saw you on the floor!” Mercedes took a brief moment to see the rest of the mess that was around her. “Are you baking, Lysithea?”
“I 'was' baking,” she corrected, letting out a groan as she slowly wiped her hand down her face. “Now I'm going to have to start all over again, and I won't be able to use the chocolate anymore!”
“If I may, why are you baking?”
Lysithea crossed her arms in annoyance. No point in hiding what she was doing now that she had been discovered, and she supposed Mercedes should at least know as a way to return the favor of healing her. “If you must know I'm trying to make a cake for Professor Byleth for his birthday.”
“That's a wonderful idea!” exclaimed Mercedes, her face beaming. “I need to do something for him as well!” That was when Mercedes looked around the dining hall for the first time and realized something was amiss. “So why is there no one here? It would have saved you a lot of bother.”
Lysithea glared down at the floor. “It was meant to be a secret... I wanted to surprise him, and I did not want to risk someone informing him before I had a chance to deliver it to him.”
“Do you want my help? I know quite a lot about baking, and together we can make sure it comes out right.”
Lysithea shook her head, apprehensive of the idea. “I have to do this on my own. I want it to be a personal gift to him to show him how much I appreciate what he's done for me.” She ended it off with a light blush across her face as her cheeks grew slightly warmer. Mercedes giggled, noticing the shade of Lysithea's cheeks turning pink, and it only made them pinker. “Wh-what's so funny?! There's absolutely no other reason why I'm doing this for him!”
“I understand, Lysithea,” she replied, making no hint at all about any assumptions about the girl's flustered state. “It is always more meaningful when you gift something like this to someone when it's made by your own hand. However...” Mercedes scanned around their area with some amount of concern. “The chefs may not like what becomes of their kitchen if another accident were to occur.”
“I...!” Lysithea began to protest, but thought better as Mercedes had a point. If her first attempt ended so horribly, she worried how long she'd be here until she was met with success. “I suppose you're right, but I still want to do it on my own. Perhaps you could simply observe while I work, and offer advice as we go along? After all, you are the more experienced one among us.”
“I would be happy to, Lysithea! With us working together, I'm sure you're cake will turn out splendidly!”
“That being said...” Lysithea examined what still remained of the mess. It was going to take some time to clean it all up and be ready to start over. Before that, she went over to take her jug and went to fill it with water from a bucket nearby to douse the flames still burning in the oven. “I need to get this cleaned up before I begin again. And now I don't have any chocolate to add to it...”
“Oh don't worry about that!” assured Mercedes. “I can get you some more.”
Lysithea turned to her with curious brows raised. “What do you mean?”
“There's a baker in town that I know pretty well. He and I share advice and recipes, and he supplies me with the materials I need at a discount. I'm sure he'll provide you with more once I explain what it's going to be used for.”
“I... appreciate that, Mercedes!” replied Lysithea, her spirits lifting at the offer. “But I don't want to accept that unless there is some way I can return the favor to you.”
Mercedes looked quizzically at her. “You don't have to return the favor, Lysithea. I'm happy to do this for you.”
Lysithea furrowed her brows. “I'm not a child, Mercedes, and I hate having others do something for me for free as though I am one. There must be something that you could use my help with.”
“Well, if you're insisting I suppose I'll take you up on it...” Mercedes brought her hand to rest her cheek on the open palm as she pondered. “Let me think... perhaps you could help me with reason magic? I would like to be better able to protect my friends, and you're the smartest person I know when it comes to that. Is that okay?”
Lysithea managed to relax, and even smiled a bit at the request. “If that's what you truly want, then I would be happy to assist you in that endeavor.”
Mercedes smiled. “Wonderful! I will be looking for to it then!”
“Right. Now that that is settled, let's not dally any longer. I will begin cleaning up here, while you meet with the baker in town and acquire more chocolate.”
“I'll be back as soon as I can!” Mercedes hurried over to the door opposite where she came in and took her leave, closing the door behind her.
Lysithea breathed a sigh of relief once the woman had left. She was glad it was Mercedes of all people that found her in her predicament. She knew that she had prior experience with baking, but had hoped that she wouldn't need to call upon her aid in making a cake for the professor. Not only that, but Mercedes's personality was as such that she always wanted to help others, and Lysithea feared she would want to get directly involved with the process. Thankfully she would take a supervisory role instead to ensure that the second attempt would go much more smoothly.
I'll have to remind her to keep what happens here a secret.
With the replenishment of chocolate no longer a problem, Lysithea searched around for a scrub brush and cleaning soap in one of the distant cupboards. She would start on the floor first, then move on to the pot. Hopefully by the time Mercedes returned she would be done, and she could immediately begin, eager to make the most delicious chocolate cake that Professor Byleth will have ever had.