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Geralt pauses in the kitchen doorway, blearily watching Lambert bounce between counter and stove top, scowling and mumbling. He'd gotten to the ranch house late last night, crawling into bed beside Jaskier well past midnight after settling Roach. Jask hadn't quite woken, but still managed to slap Geralt in the face as he flailed around in an attempt to octopus onto him.
Now it's nearly 10 and the house seems surprisingly empty, Lam the only one in evidence, although Geralt thought he'd heard someone out in the barn. Edging towards the coffee machine with a yawn, he automatically dodges a saucepan and debates just going back to bed. Lam grunts at him, prodding Geralt towards an out of the way seat at the kitchen table. A minute later a mug of coffee is dumped within reach, thicker than he prefers but he's not going to complain as Lam slides sausages, eggs and hash browns onto a plate from a covered dish on the stove top. Toast joins them, then fried tomatoes and mushrooms, before the plate is also dropped in front of him.
Its rare that Lam cooks, he leans more towards baking where, like alchemy, the amounts are more precise and methods stricter. Despite that when he relaxes, or is a little tipsy, he is a fantastic cook, seeming to instinctively know how much to spice or season when he doesn't get in his head about it. But as Geralt slowly wakes up he can smell what he thinks is lamb and plum stew, chicken and vegetable pie still in its constituent pieces, and some kind of blueberry dessert among the breakfast foods and fresh baked bread.
They settle in a comfortable silence over the next couple of hours or so, Geralt grabbing his laptop to do some research once he's finished eating, what he thinks is a video game soundtrack playing quietly in the background. A few dishes appear, the dessert turns out to be a cake, set aside to cool as Lam chops cheese and vegetables and rolls out pastry into the pie tin. Various types of both sweet and savoury dumplings are put together then set aside on the enchanted hotplates to keep them warm while the rest cook.
Eskel comes through briefly, from the stables by the smell of him, and gets his hand whacked by the ladle when he tries to steal one, settling instead for a sandwich made from the leftover breakfast bits before heading out again. Its surprisingly calming, hearing Lam bustle around, even if he seems fairly and unusually stressed, swearing if even the smallest thing goes wrong. He calms slightly as almost everything goes under the warming spell and all that appears to be left is the cake.
After glaring at it for a long moment, Lam briefly disappears towards the greenhouses, leaving the room unsettlingly quiet until he returns with a bowl of fresh blueberries. The familiar scent of vanilla buttercream wafts over, along with the last of Vesemir's homemade blueberry jam. At least Lam wasn't just refusing to let anyone use it out of some cruel whim.
Half a cupcake is unceremoniously shoved in Geralt’s face, thinly layered with icing and jam in the middle and more icing and fresh berries on top, "Is this too much?"
Being watched like a hawk by an anxious little brother is not the weirdest circumstance he'd been more or less force fed cake in, so he eats it. Its good, and he offers a thumbs up; the sponge is very delicately flavoured, and the jam is thin enough that the blueberries are not overpowering. Lam just glares at him for a moment, then nods sharply, rinses Geralt's empty mug and returns it with a pot of spiced tea and a small bowl of lumpy or too large berries. Then he rolls his sleeves up and returns to the counter to work on the full sized cake.
There's the sound of a truck pulling up in the yard outside, then deep barks and excited voices. Claws tap on the wood of the porch and Geralt gets up to let Mor, Vesemir's black mastiff, in. Rather than sitting back at his laptop, he nabs his mug and berries and drops into the closest armchair, careful not to spill anything on Mor as she shoves her head in his lap.
Lam makes a small satisfied noise and dumps his utensils in the sink. The cake now has a thin layer of icing all over, much of it scraped off around the sides like Geralt's seen in some of the fancy bakeries Jask likes, and some kind of arrangement of berries on top. Also '69' candles. Candles shaped like a 6 and a 9, he didn't even know they existed.
It's at that point that Geralt remembers the reason that Aiden's been away with his brothers for a few days instead of here for the week with the wolves was that it was his birthday, and that he was due back at some point today. But also as he and Lam are just over ten years younger than him, it's very likely his 69th, and apparently Lam is planning to milk that for whatever he can like the hugely mature person he is.
Ciri appears in the doorway, immediately going to her uncle Lambert to beg for food. She's followed a few moments later by Vesemir, Eskel and Jask, carrying several bags each, full of a mix of groceries and clothes from what Geralt can see. Ciri has been going through something of a growth spurt, so it was probably due.
"Nice." Eskel and Jask say almost simultaneously, obviously spotting the cake, as Vesemir lets out a beleaguered sigh.
"What?" Ciri blinks up at them through a mouthful of cupcake.
"Don't you think Lambert done a nice job, little lioness?" Jask cheerfully deflects, flushing slightly and dropping his bags to head for Geralt, gently nudging Mor aside so he can drop into his lap and steal a kiss.
There's a roar of a motorbike before Ciri can prod further, the man of the hour arrives. Lam looks at the cake then at the fridge, a little panicked, but doesn't have time to actually do anything before Aiden appears in the still open door, tugging his helmet off and grinning around at them all, long hair all over the place. There's absolutely nothing any of them could do to hide the cake in time, it's immediately spotted, Aiden's smirk sharpening and, "Nice." But his face softens as he looks from the cake to his partner.
"Couldn't you be like, ten minutes slower-"
"Why is everyone saying that?" There's a layer of frustration that means Ciri is reaching breaking point as she cuts Lam off, likely already overloaded from the city.
"It's a grown up thing cub, wait a few years." Vesemir glares at them, as if any of them would say anything different.
"I am grown up!" The sheer confidence of a newly turned 13 year old is amazing.
Aiden leans down to press a kiss to her hair then throws himself at Lam, sending them both careening into the wall. The rest of them all look away, Vesemir bustling towards the coffee machine as Ciri wrinkles her nose, giving them a momentary illusion of privacy.
"If you don't like them kissing, then you definitely don't want to know." Jask laughs, leaning back into Geralt's chest.
"Ew." Ciri's expression of disgust grows.
"Hey, I appreciate it." Aiden steps back, "And I need a quick shower, so I can pretend I didn't see anything if that makes you feel better Lam?" He doesn't wait for a response, just winks and kisses him quickly, then slides past Lam towards the stairs and their bedroom.
Lam seems to contemplate knocking his head against the countertop, but eventually just shoos everyone out to clean up, leaving Geralt roped into setting the table. As he passes he loops and arm round Lam, tugging him into a brief hug and rubbing his cheek against his hair with a low rumble. Lam grumbles but doesn't pull away, even going so far as to knock their shoulders together as they start sorting dumplings.