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"What did you usually eat for breakfast, my love?"
The question is a softly murmured question against her neck. Shared curiosities indulged in the dark before sleep takes hold. A nightly commitment when bodies are sore or sated.
Miri hums, inhaling deeply as she pulls slightly away from that precipice between dozing and dreams. Fighting the warm pull of Gale's embrace and the soft dark of the night.
"Breakfast?" A soft probe for confirmation.
"Yes," Gale affirms with a smile against her skin, "How does a lythari of the High Forest start their day?"
His arm around her waist tightens a fraction - he nuzzles against her, never so close to stillness, yet never at rest either. His fingers caress listlessly. Only to touch. Feeling, and nothing more.
Miri huffs a half coherent laugh.
"What we have," she returns simply. "What is fresh. Meat, berries, fish… dried goods. Tea. Perhaps soup, if the weather is cold."
"No special food to start the day?" Gale sounds curious even as he worms his face into the nest of her hair, breathing her scent in.
"No," she returns, voice husky with sleep, "Perhaps on a holiday or festival. But not every day."
"Hmm…"
The conversation tapers as breath turns to sighs, and sighs into snores. Curiosity never needs a purpose between them. Nothing beyond the tender way that to know is to love.
Gale's mind idles on the thoughts for several days following. Their meals on the road sounded much the same as what she'd lived on for much of her life. What you can hunt, what you can forage. Simple meals that combine forageable ingredients - not much milled, given there was no farming to be had.
It's almost hard to fathom sometimes that one could have lived a life without such simple comforts as breads or pastries. Academically, sure. But imagining the experience…
Food is such a joy - and cooking for someone especially. Gale took immense pleasure in the task, even on days when it was especially hard. Perhaps those days in particular, when the success of managing to cook was worth celebrating in itself - be it for scarcity or exhaustion.
And when Gale had decided to live in defiance - when Miri had all but dragged him back from the very precipice- he also decided he would bring her with him to every joy he knew of.
So it was he started to plan their first mornings finally home in Waterdeep. There would be nothing better than falling asleep in his- their own bed, safe at last. But waking her slowly, with tender touch and soft murmurs, would be all the sweeter for the sweetness he would bring back to bed with him.
He would climb back under the covers to snuggle her close - and when she opened her eyes he would have laid out for her a feast of his own making. Fresh coffee with cream and sugar; pastries filled, glazed, and rolled; pancakes, waffles, muffins, breads, cinnamon rolls, more. And her own staples, too, of course. He would cherish adding a new joy to the experience by feeding her perfectly ripe, fresh picked berries. Perhaps from a garden they start together outside the tower. Oh, and it wouldn't be complete without meat more elaborate than she had savored till now - sausages, bacon, ham - gravies, quiches-
The possibilities were truly endless.
And for many a night in the latter days of their harried course to stave off the end of the world, in the quiet hours after their conversations drifted to slumber, Gale would dream of just how sweet a slow breakfast in bed would be.