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The kitchen door creaked as Dea pushed it open, her mother’s recipe book in hand. It was nearly midnight and for once the busy kitchen was completely silent and completely empty. Setting the book down on the table in the centre of the small room, she flicked through it, searching for the right page. This particular page was well-worn, little tears on the sides, the ink faded from use. She trailed her finger down the page, reading the ingredients, trying to remember if everything was available. Then came the frantic search through the cupboards for everything she needed. Butter, caster sugar, brown sugar, vanilla extract, an egg, chocolate chips and plain flour. With everything in place she began to cook, softly humming a love song her father had serenaded her mother with so long ago. With little care to how much mess she made, she waltzed as she cooked, with grace not seen from her large Qunari body until now. Outside in the quiet courtyard, the nocturnal chocolate bloomed as the mixed ingredients were placed in the oven to cook for 17 minutes. To pass the time, Dea started to clean up the mess she’d made. The last thing she wanted was for some poor servant to get in trouble for a lack of discretion on her part. She swept away the flour spilled on the floor, washed the bowls and other various utensils. By the time she was done, they were more than ready. Wrapping her hand in a cloth and dipping it in cold water, she opened the door and quickly pulled the newly baked goods out, dropping them on the table and waving her hand about.
“Ow ow ow ow.” She whispered, as the baked goods cooled, their tantalising scent filling the kitchen. Once her hand had recovered, Dea pulled out a cloth embroidered with little arrows, wrapped the baked goods up and removed any evidence she’d been present. Then without a backward glance, Dea slipped out of the room.
The cream had been specially ordered by the Inquisitor herself, to be delivered to the war room with the specific instruction to not allow any of the Inquisitors Companions to find out. The agent slipped through the diplomats office, down the hallway with the hole in the wall and into the War Room, where he found the Inquisitor leaning against the war table. Seeing the container of cream in his hand, her face lit up.
“Thank you, that will be all.” She said as she took the container from his hand and ushered him out the door, closing it behind them. Before the agent could bow or express his admiration, the Inquisitor started to stride down the hallway, walking at the same speed as the agent’s jog. As she walked past the hole in the wall, glancing at it, she muttered to herself,
“We really need to get that fixed.”
Sera wasn’t sure what to expect when she received the note from Dea. It was written in Dea’s unmistakable block handwriting, and merely said,
Meet Me In Skyhold’s Hidden Garden
Grabbing her bow on the way out, Sera walked to the garden, smiling to herself. On a day like this, who knew what kind of surprise Dea had planned.
The path to the garden was clear and lit with candles glowing like stars in the blackest night sky. Sera strolled between them, her bow swung over her back. In the garden Dea sat, a picnic blanket beneath her, one hand behind her back. Upon Sera’s approach, she patted a spot beside her. Sera sat, removing her bow and pushing it away as Dea revealed the plate of cookies and dish of cream with two spoons stuck in she’d been concealing behind her back.
“This… isn’t what I expected.” Sera admitted as she took a cookie.
“Oh? What were you expecting.” Dea asked, giving Sera one of the smiles that was reserved only for her.
“I dunno. Not this.” Sera replied, before her mouth became full of chocolate-chip cookies. Dea laughed, a sound sweeter than any music to Sera’s ears.
“Happy birthday Kadan.”