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“Do you feel like going out today, Virosa?”
“Oh?” she teased, glancing up from where she polished her shield that hadn't seen any action for months now. “Is there something out there you want?”
Muscaria fidgeted with her sleeve, gaze focused more on the ever-nerve-wracking door to their home than her partner. As if it – and she – might just cease to be if it were to open, instead of the other way around.
“...Fun cakes,” she finally admitted.
Virosa flashed her a knowing smirk.
“You won't find any out there at this time of year. However...” Her stool groaned faintly atop the floorboards when she pushed herself up from the table with both hands, spared from the brunt of her habit by the small red polka dot rug Muscaria insisted be placed under every chair. “We have everything we need to make some!”
“Do you even know how?”
Instead of replying at first, Virosa simply curled an arm around her shoulders and drew her close, the fingers of her free hand spread out before her like she tried to capture the stars. If the stars were out, and twinkling on the horizon instead of the midnight expanse overhead that they lived in.
“Well, we have all the ingredients. How hard can it be?”
Not for the first time, Virosa proved rather more adventurous than was perhaps to her benefit, covered head to hip in flour. She tipped the homemade batter straight into the pan of oil, where it spread thick and round to the edges of the frying pan instead. It looked like a cookie. It might just taste like one too, if they added chocolate chips or some other sweet addition.
“That... doesn't look right.” Virosa laughed her usual, breezy chuckle, apparently entirely unbothered by her failure.
Sometimes, Muscaria catches herself worrying about things like 'failure' or 'ruining everything', but every time she tried to voice such doubts she would get a flippant dismissal or Virosa's insistence that they're able to just 'do it over'. Today, however, brings with it a warm comfort and the genuine assurance that they truly can try again.
If simply pouring the mixture straight into the vessel makes it too solid, then maybe they need to figure out how to make it thinner. The whisk in her hand tapped idly against the edges of the bright green mixing bowl. A thin trail of batter dripped down the inside lip. Blinking down at it in surprise, Muscaria then gathered more of the cake mix into a big blob at the end of the utensil. Maybe, just maybe, she could make it work.
Muscaria danced from foot to foot as she impatiently watched Virosa's attempt rise, eager for her turn. Virosa, despite her failure, insisted that she be allowed to fry the cookie until it was cooked through and had a lovely crunch.
Once Virosa flipped the pan-sized treat and set it on a plate to cool, finally, at long last, Muscaria was allowed her own attempt. With every consideration in the world she carefully twirled the mix from the tip of the whisk as she moved her hand in steady, lopsided circles, watching excitedly as thin trails of the mixture coiled over one another in their haste to reach the heated plate. However, maybe the whisk made her treat too thin, crumbling and breaking apart long before the sizzling oil had a chance to cook it through. She sighed softly as she watched the wayward pieces drift apart like friendly boats at sea.
“This isn't working...”
“Hmm...” Virosa curiously leaned over the pan to get a better look at the unstable concoction below, but not before she wiped a thread of batter which had landed on Muscaria's cheek with one of her flicks and brought it to her lips. “I think you're on the right track with trying to separate the threads. Maybe, despite your adorable pet name for them, funnel cakes are named after the utensil used to make them?”
With a hum of her own Muscaria tilted her face in thought, the warm incandescent glow of the lightbulb overhead soon blotted out completely by her mushroom cap. She tried not to think about how Virosa's strange, unexpected actions, always the smallest things, made her heart race and flutter.
Without a word Virosa leaned past her to tug open the drawer and pull this mysterious 'funnel' from one of its sections. It didn't look very much like a 'funnel' to Muscaria, but surely it had to be, for Virosa chose it, and her experience as a shopkeeper verified that it was indeed a funnel.
Once they had scooped out the remnants of Muscaria's first attempt, Virosa held the implement aloft over the sizzling oil and grinned across at her. “Would you like to do the honours? The rest of what's left in the mixing bowl should do! And, if not? We can always-”
“Do it over,” Muscaria joined her catchphrase with a smile. She gathered the smooth lacquered bowl between both of her palms, then carefully ensured that not a single drop of it escaped the lip of the funnel, even when Virosa began to move it away in her efforts to add the spirals.
This attempt looked much more like the ones they had treated themselves to at the festival, albeit clumsy imitations.
Both eager chefs grinned widely at one another, delighted with the success. Muscaria just barely lifted her hand in time to accept Virosa's excited high five before she turned her full attention back to the pan and their fluffy treat. Distracted fingers snapped off a piece of the slightly less crumbly cookie and brought them to her mouth, nibbling contentedly, before offering Muscaria a bite. A blush dusted over her oft-pale cheeks as she gathered her portion of the baked good into her own hand instead of leaning down to sample it from Virosa's. While her partner would probably be excited to discover she felt that way, there had to be better timing to let her know.
As she ate, much like her companion, she turned her attention back to the delicacy steadily frying. Instead of using a spatula, Virosa flipped the whole confection around with a precision and force no doubt granted to her by her hero's training. Their treat didn't even flip through the air, a simple half rotation that landed on its uncooked side back into the boiling oil with a 'plop'.
Muscaria reached around behind her to sample another bite of the cookie.
“Did you see that?!” Virosa squealed, grinning from ear to ear, holding the frypan more like a trophy than an implement above the stovetop. “I totally nailed it first try!”
“You did great!” Muscaria agreed around her mouthful.
Her friend was far too proud of her latest accomplishment to berate her for talking while she was eating. Cooking was hungry work, as it turned out.
It didn't take long at all for the thin battered creation to cook all the way through, and with a flourish Virosa nudged it onto the same plate which was now only covered with crumbs. But she didn't say anything about Muscaria having more than her fair share – there were plenty of times where the retired hero would feed her from her own plate and end up with less as a result. Muscaria still doesn't entirely understand why she did that, but the gesture always brought a warmth to her chest along with it.
“Now, how should we share it?”
Muscaria stared longingly down at the fun cake. Even if a bit misshapen, it was exactly what she wanted. But... she had already had more than her fair share of her partner's first attempt. It wouldn't be right to take this treat away from her too.
Before she could say as such, however, Virosa pushed about half of it into her mouth with a soft laugh and an enamoured grin. Its crisp, fluffy flakes crumbled apart when she bit down, savouring the sweet treat that she could eat forever. Then, before she could even think to have more of it, Virosa shoved the rest into her own mouth, smirking past her hand.
“Mmm! Oh, that's good!”
Muscaria was glad she had managed to swallow before Virosa kicked up such a fuss, or else she might just have choked on her laughter that bubbled up freely at her partner's antics. Just as her hero had allowed her the rudeness in silence, so too could Muscaria not speak an ill word against her for talking with her mouth full. She could not entirely resist the urge to wrap her arm around her, keenly pressing her cheek into the warm strength of her shoulder as Virosa's hand curled atop her own, keeping her close.
This was how life was meant to be, now that the hero had finished her quest. Living together, loving each other, free to act as they pleased away from the suffocating walls of her shop, the bustle of the tavern, and any onlookers who Muscaria was grateful to meet but had yet to grow accustomed to talking to.
Instead of releasing her from her hold to address her, Virosa tilted her head with a grin.
“Why don't we make some more?”
And Muscaria couldn't agree with a fuller heart than this.