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In hindsight, he should've asked for help. Surely many in the army would have been more than willing to make a treat for Annette. If not, buying such a confection in the town's market would have been relatively easy too. Still Felix could name a number of reasons of why he hadn't done either: first, and possibly the one which had got him into this mess, why wouldn't he be able to? After all, if someone as scattered brained as Mercedes could bake, how hard could it be?
Second, it felt really important that he make it himself. Annette had been a beacon of light amidst the chaos following Gronder, and in the aftermath of battle, her birthday had been overlooked: the professor had been busy wrangling the Boar; Mercedes had her hands full with the wounded at the infirmary, and he, well, the loss of his old man had hurt more than he was willing to admit. Annette had been like a light, a constant calming and optimistic presence by his side through it all. But now, with the army about to march to Fhirdiad, he wanted to express his gratitude in a way she would appreciate before it was too late.
Third, Felix was not willing to endure Sylvain's teasing nor Mercedes's knowing giggles had he asked either for their support. Both of them had seen right through him even before he realised his own feelings for the petite mage. Admitting to them that he was going to such lengths for her after all the time he had spent denying he had fallen for her was too embarrassing to bear. Besides, he did not feel ready to confess to Annette, not yet. Those feelings were better left unaddressed until the end of the war; he was not about to promise Annette a future when the fear of not coming back from the next battle was too close for comfort.
Of course, it was this line of thinking that had brought him to the present moment. Annette had described once a dessert she had once tasted at the School of Sorcery made up of a mountain of chocolate with a gooey filling. 'It's called Ailel Cake' she had told him. His skin had crawled with the description of the sweet and tooth-rotting concoction. But she had spoken about it with such joy and such yearning for the dessert, her eyes almost glittering as the stars, that the name had stuck in Felix mind. It was, undoubtedly, the obvious choice. So, Felix had hit the library, copied the first recipe he could find, and marched down to the kitchen with one endeavor in mind: to make an Ailel cake for Annette.
Once in the kitchen, he had followed the recipe, sort of. He had tasted the batter, which seemed even tolerable for him. But if that was the case, then certainly it wouldn't be sweet enough for Annette, so he added more sugar. Things started to go south after that. The texture was grainy, so he added more butter. But the cool butter made clumps, so he added hot milk. And around him, cups and glasses and plates started accumulating. When the milk didn't fix the batter, he decided it was a problem of strength, so he mixed everything faster and harder, splashing the counter and the kitchen with the dark mixture, only half-regretting his earlier pride.
When he was satisfied, which is to say, when he got tired of mixing and got rid of most of the clumps, he poured the batter onto a baking tray divided so that small cakes would bake simultaneously. He filled each space to the brim, hoping that if there was still anything wrong with his mixture, it would correct itself in the oven. He put them inside and then turned it on with a spark of thunder.
Ten minutes later, as per the recipe's instructions, Felix opened the oven, only to find that the 'cakes' were even less solid than before. The oven barely felt hot at all, so he stocked the fire. Surely, nothing with the name of Ailel on it would mind a little more intense heat. Or so he thought until smoke started to come out of the oven. Felix opened the door, only to be met by a big, dark, puff which left him coughing and gasping for air.
'Hello? Is anybody in there?' A voice called from the smoke, and Felix saw how a dexterous silhouette went straight for the window, opening in a swift motion and clearing the smoke out of the room. Ashe stood with a wet rag to his nose. 'Felix? Is that you?'
'Ashe?' Felix replied with tears in his eyes from the smoke.
Ashe moved deftly around the kitchen, grabbing a par of mittens and and a paddle to pull Felix's tray from the oven to prevent it from going up in flames any further, tossing it to the nearest sink before dowsing it with water. When Ashe turned, Felix had retreated to a corner to cough a little more and to let himself sink against the wall in defeat.
'Are you alright?' asked the archer cleaning the sweat of his brow with his uniform's sleeve. 'I… I saw smoke coming from below the door. I didn't expect to find you of all people here.'
Felix had his head between his hands, rubbing circles at his temples to keep the emerging headache at bay. 'I clearly underestimated how hard it was to bake a stupid cake. Thanks for the save there.'
Ashe approached, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked towards the oven to make sure nothing else remained inside. There was some soot on his face, scrubbed across his forehead like battle make up. His smile, however, was not that of a warrior, but of a kind and concerned ally. 'I mean, these things happen I suppose? You're not the first person I've saved from a kitchen fire.'
Felix shrugged and let his head fall back towards the wall with a thud. He couldn't really face Ashe, one of the talented cooks in Garreg Mach's ranks. Instead, Felix stared vacantly at the ceiling thinking about the mess he had just made. 'What was I thinking?' he whispered to himself.
Ashe turned to him, biting his lip. 'I mean, um… from the looks of it, it seems that you sparred with the kitchen. But I highly doubt that is what you were trying to make?'
Felix shot a glare at Ashe. 'Of course not. If I had wanted to spar, I would've gone to the training grounds. You know me better than that.'
'Of course,' Ashe chuckled. 'But what were you trying to make? It's strange enough to see you in the kitchen at all, Felix. You're only ever here with the professor sends you, and you usually serve clean rathen cook.'
Felix directed his face to the ceiling again with a scowl clearly plastered upon his face. 'Tsk. Forget it. It doesn't matter,' he muttered. 'I'll clean after myself and leave if you need the kitchen.'
Ashe's smile became tight under his sad eyes. If Felix had looked at him, he would have seen that the knight was looking at him with empathy and a hint of concern. Felix, after all, was aware of his bad reputation amongst the soldiers, that of the battle-hardened swordsman who kept his battalions and his allies alive through stern hard work and unparalleled discipline. Even now, by not looking at Ashe, he was trying to keep that act up. By now, Ashe knew better.
The knight left the kitchen for a moment, only to return with a pail of water and cleaning supplies for the two of them. Felix was still sulking in the corner when he returned, so Ashe just stood before him, extending a hand towards Felix. 'Come on, Felix. The sooner we clear this mess, the sooner we can get started on trying again. It's not like you to give up that easily anyway.'
Felix grunted, but he still took Ashe's hand and let himself be pulled from the ground. At least, Ashe allowed them to work in silence instead of pestering him with small talk about knighthood and chivalry. If Felix were honest, he sort of missed it, but he was grateful for the space to clear his own thoughts as they made progress.
'Ailel cake, huh?' Ashe exclaimed picking up what was left from the recipe from the counter. 'No wonder you were having a hard time with it. Even Dedue struggled to make this when we were students.'
'I somehow find that hard to believe,' Felix replied as he finished rinsing the last of the dirty dishes, placing them on top of a dish rack to dry.
'It's a difficult cake to make, that's all,' Ashe continued. 'It's the kind of recipe that you wouldn't take on if you didn't know what you were doing unless you were trying to impress somebody.' Ashe raised an eyebrow towards Felix.
Felix felt his burning as blood raised all the way up to his ears. 'I-I don't know what you're talking about.'
Ashe smirked. 'I made it for Dedue after we came back from Myrdin. So, I could offer some pointers if you would like to try again. Still, I think Annette would be happy just knowing you tried.'
Felix froze, stammering while his whole face was painted the colour of cherries. 'I —who said— 'Nette? I don't… I just say thank you before we depart to Fhirdiad, that's all'
'Sure,' Ashe laughed in response. 'Gratitude it is, then. Come on, let's get to work.'
Ashe guided him through the recipe dictating measurements and instructions even offering some adjustments to suit Annette's palate. Felix followed those instructions like battle commands, not even questioning Ashe when he turned the oven on almost half an hour before they actually put the baking tray in. They made a good team, Felix could admit. Ashe was as diligent in his endeavours —archery, knighthood, and cooking, as he was. He wouldn't say it aloud, but his relaxed brow replacing his usual scowl spoke volumes about the fast allyship between the two of them.
When they took the tray out of the oven, Ashe grabbed two plates. He served a small round cake mound on each of them and topped them off with snow-like sugar. He cut a slice of his, letting the chocolate goo spill from within. 'These are perfect, Felix!'
'You helped a lot.'
'Take this one to Annette,' the sniper said pushing the other plate onto Felix's hands. 'These are better eaten while they're still hot.'
Felix thanked Ashe and left the kitchen. His left hand hovered over the plate like a dome to protect the cake from prying eyes or the Oghma winds. Never had the way from the kitchen to Annette's room felt so long and so challenging. Gathering his bearings, he knocked.
Felix heard a crash and a curse before the door opened to reveal Annette. 'Oh, um… Hi! That is, good evening, Felix!'
'Are you OK? It sounded like…'
Annette blushed and laughed. 'I… yeah… I mean… I left some books on the floor. Who leaves books on the floor right? But I'm ok. And…' She paused her rambling as Felix revealed what he was holding.
'I… ' He had to clear his throat a few times before he was able to speak. 'I made this for you. It's a belated birthday gift.'
'Awww, Felix,' she cooed. 'Did you really go through the trouble of making Ailel cake for me?'
'It's not a mountain of sweets, but it is a sweet mountain that I know you long to eats.'
'FELIX! Will you stop making fun of my songs at least once?' She ranted, grabbing the plate off his hands and slamming the door in his face.
Felix smiled to himself as he retreated. 'Of course I made you Ailel cake, 'Nette. And one day, I'll tell you why.'