leicesters | IC INBOX: KENOS

[... He might be mostly right. She had primarily been eating to fuel her body, not for pleasure. But if she had to name... something... (now, she's not going to interrupt her meeting with such thoughts???)]

... Meat is good.

And "bread".

[Which she says like it isn't a real food, but apparently it's very real and very nice and filling.]

[Bread is very much real and very good, so there's no argument from him there.]

Alright! Leave it all to me, and I'll start getting everything ready. See you later.

[The meeting itself does not go so terribly long, but seeing as it was delayed by other demands on the general's attention, it is proper evening hours by the time Hayame makes it to Claude's residence. Not that... it looked like evening should, in the land of two suns. It's far too bright out. (What if someone sees her????)

Looking left, then right, and seeing no hint of a nosy neighbor... She hesitates. Days may have passed, but there is still tension in her from a certain network post. Perhaps they will simply fight again. Maybe she'd just hallucinated that day in Alenroux. Probably, he is very close to coming to his senses, and the more of her he sees the sooner that will come.

But after lingering for just a bit too long...

Hayame knocks on the door.]

[Fortunately for Hayame, Claude doesn't have nosy neighbours. He's friendly enough to those living nearby in Heliopolis, and of course being a Shardbearer invites a certain curiosity on its own, but that's long since worn off, and Claude is casual enough with those he meets for them not to treat him too differently to any other Meri in the city. It's how he prefers it, and -- he imagines -- means Hayame won't be particularly noteworthy either.

When he opens the door, there's the smell of cooked meat filling the air, and he beams at Hayame.]

Hey! I'm glad you made it. [He steps along the hallway to give her room to enter the apartment, tactful enough to realise she won't want to linger at the door.] How was the meeting?

[... Oh. It smells good.]

Thank you for your hospitality.

[It might sound somewhat formal and a little stiff, but she is, in general, unaccustomed still to the simple act of visiting another's home. Let alone... being allowed in a home. She thinks that's the proper line.

Stepping in and trying not to notice how smile-y he looks, Hayame pauses in his entranceway to pull a hoofpick and brush from her waist pouch and begin cleaning her hooves. She's not trying to track in dirt.]

It went well enough. My reports were overdue.

[Thanks to that lost Oracle.]

[He pauses to watch what she's doing, wondering at first if she has a stone or something stuck in her hooves... but no, she's just being considerate and cleaning out the dirt. It's endearing enough on his own that he can already feel warmth swelling in his chest, a warmth that has been lodged there all afternoon (or since Alenroux, if he's honest with himself) and refuses to budge. Not that he wants it to.

He's getting distracted already, though, so he stops smiling stupidly at her long enough to respond.]

Right... There must've been a lot to discuss. We can talk shop some other time, though.

[Between that and the ambassador talks, surely the two of them could use a break from all these serious conversations, vital though they are. He turns to head to the kitchen area.]

The food's pretty much good to go, so I'll finish bringing it all out. Do you like wine? Beer? Something else?

[Perhaps that is actually why she answered so vaguely. If she discusses her work, then there will be talk of work in general. She will have to chastise him for speaking for her in that foolish talk over ambassadors. She will have to think about that debate in general.

And she would rather not. (Did that mean it wouldn't happen? No, but she is trying.)]

I am surprised you know how to prepare your own food.

[He's a king. He had been a prince, and then played noble in a different land. Even if he had spoken of being an outcast, of some hardships he had experienced... she had assumed he was still catered to for his rank.

... She doesn't exactly have a preference on drinks, but.]

I will have what you have.

Gotcha. [He grabs a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine, talking as he uncorks it and pours one for them both.] The Officer's Academy had a rule where every student, no matter their social standing, had to pitch in on kitchen duty. Then during the war, when my old classmates and I came back together, we just kept the idea going as a little tradition, and I picked up a few things.

[So even when Claude was Duke Riegan and busy with war councils and going backwards and forwards to roundtables at Derdriu, he'd still find time to squeeze in cooking duty. He wasn't above any page or maidservant in that way, and he found he liked it.]

I'm grateful for it, really. Would be pretty embarassing if I got here and didn't know how to fend for myself, right?

[With her hooves cleaned out and brushed, Hayame finally follows Claude into the kitchen... where she hovers somewhat awkwardly in the doorframe. His story is believable enough, she assumes he wouldn't bother lying about that sort of... cooking origin story, now of all times, but.]

Your world is very different from mine.

[People all doing menial tasks and chores regardless of their rank and social class? It would never happen in the culture she'd been raised in. Honestly, she's not sure she's going to believe it until she actually has the food in her mouth.

Her lips purse a bit, though, thinking.]

Even if you were spoiled, I assume you'd get by. There are countless places to get food from here.

[And they practically just gave them money for being shard-bearers. There were so many restaurants that you could probably even visit a different one every day without repeats...]

Yeah, but remember Horos? That would have been tough all by myself, with no life skills.

[As Claude grabs plates and cutlery, it becomes obvious how busy he'd been all afternoon. Across the kitchen counter are plates and plates of various foods... a lot of food. He'd taken Hayame's request to heart, and there are a good selection of dishes portioned enough that they can both sample as much or as little as they want. Grilled meat with fruit, game meat Claude had hunted himself, cooked and skewered, meat pie (he had cheated and gone to a bakery to get that), freshly baked bread (also from the bakery), various sauteed vegetables, and -- a favourite side dish of his from Almyra -- a large bowl of rice with pomegranate seeds and herbs.

There's a table pushed against one wall, and while slightly cramped, there's room for them both to eat. He'd removed a chair, realising Hayame wouldn't be able to use it, leaving some cushions for her instead.]

So... Here's the feast! Help yourself to whatever you want.

[He goes to set the glasses of wine, along with the bottle, on the table.]

[Hayame truly does not want to remember Horos, actually. He says it lightly, but... She has tried her best to forget that place. A place where she had felt even more isolated and hated than she did here, fighting desperately for recognition within her own forced allies as well as against the seemingly insurmountable power of the Regent.

- So she does him the favor of not responding to that at all.

Her shock at seeing the food spread is sincere enough as a distraction. He'd said he could cook, but this is... far more than she expected to see on his table??? She just stands there for a minute, hesitating to approach or take her "seat", suddenly uncomfortable with being confronted over how much effort seems to have been put into something.]

- you really made all this?

[Into her.]

Not all of it. Some of it was bought, but I'll let you speculate on which is which.

[Now all they need is romantic candlelight, music, and... Yeah, no, he didn't plan that far ahead for cliches, when he threw this all together so quickly. He's still smiling to hide that he's feeling nervous, hoping she doesn't dislike it.]

You said you eat a lot, right? So I got together as much as I could.

[As if it were something to be embarrassed over, particularly when compared to the human sensibilities (and capabilities) that she was raised on, Hayame mutters somewhat under her breath,]

I have two stomachs...

[So it's definitely not weird or uncouth that she eats a lot! (Not that... he implied it was, but just in case he was thinking it... !)

Circling her spot a little, she finally finds the perfect angle to plot her equine rump down onto the cushions he's provided, settling into the more canine-like sit she had to adopt to get comfortable at human tables. From there, she begins by reaching for her plate and... hesitating. He is the host-]

- Where do you suggest I start?

[His best dish? Was there an order to his land's feasts?]

[He's mystified at the admission she has two stomachs, but he guesses it makes sense; does she have two sets of everything else in her two torsos, as well? Though that thought is soon forgotten, as once she moves to sit, he breathes an inward sigh of relief, when part of him still expected her to turn up her nose and leave. So Claude brings the last few dishes to the table, along with a bread knife, and takes his seat opposite.]

Hmm... Maybe the skewers? If you want to sample a little of everything first, getting the bite-sized meat is easier.

[Fódlan has strict etiquette about meals (not that he ever adhered to it, much to a certain noble's outrage), but Almyran feasts are just a free-for-all, shown in how he starts piling his own plate with food. He's struck by an afterthought a second later, and lifts his wine glass in a toast.]

Oh, and-- cheers! [It's not a feast without one, right?]

[Two of some things. One of others. But perhaps that is a conversation for another time. Or a never time! She certainly doesn't know at what point in a... something (relationship) that it's right to discuss the difference in one's organs. Or some organs over others.

But she is here, and she is seated, and the food smells... amazing, really. Once she has his permission in the form of his beginning to help himself to the food, she begins to do the same, serving herself a sample of meats, vegetables, and breads before...

Oh.

She's seen people toast plenty of times. The stable master hosted banquets each new year, exhibition day, and auction. But jinba did not participate in such things, they watched from afar (if they were even allowed to watch at all). She had memorized it, hoping to one day reach a rank or status to be allowed such dignity... but she'd never done it. Slowly, her fingers wrap around the wine glass, lifting it slightly awkwardly.]

- Cheers.

[If this were rice wine, it might mean... But no, it isn't, and it certainly didn't mean that, so she takes a sip to simply show her gratitude. Plate full, she follows his advice and makes to sample the kebab first, sharp canines somewhat delicately biting into a piece of meat and trying to be somewhat ladylike about sliding it off the stick, beginning to chew-

Pausing.

Chewing again.

... Pausing.

And then quickly ripping off another bite, one of those two stomachs (the lower one, judging by location) emitting a low rumble of hunger.]

[Her awkwardness doesn't go unnoticed, but he doesn't even tease her about it, taking a sip before returning to his food. Mercifully, he'd picked the skewers that were slightly burned for himself (he didn't claim to be an amazing chef) to spare Hayame the hassle, and most of the other dishes seem to have come out unscathed.

He does, however, laugh when her stomach rumbles, looking up from the grilled steak he was cutting into.]

That hungry? How is it?

[... She might have been hungry. To be honest, jinba were almost never completely full, with as much as they needed to consume to fuel half ton bodies of powerful muscle, but.]

It is a satisfying taste.

[Could it be called a feast, when they were the only two people in attendance? Or did just having that much food make it one? She'd never really had to wonder about that. What had he put on this meat? She was used to much simpler profiles and frontier techniques like drying or salting, but there was so much flavor on it, even without the more obvious presence of sauce that she sometimes encountered in the street stalls she patroned.

She tries not to look too slovenly while doing it, but she begins to sample more and more of what's on the table, curiously poking at the red, jewel-like pieces in the rice before curiously... Hmm, there are no chopsticks. Improvising, she uses her hands to try and press the rice into a more familiar onigiri shape, but the grains just don't stick together the way she is accustomed, and the shape crumbles halfway to her lip. Emitting a frustrated noise, she leans over the plate so as not to make a mess and hastily gets what remained in her hand into her mouth, but.

Hmm... Hmm...]

What is this?

[It's... very satisfying.]

Oh, uh-- [He was going to tell her the rice won't stick together in the way she's attempting, but it's a little too late, and he blinks. Had she never eaten rice before, or was it just customary to eat it that way back home...?

Regardless, he sets down his fork and answers her question.]

We call it jewelled rice in Almyra. The red seeds and the green nuts look like gems, right? And the saffron turns the rice a golden colour. You can add other fruits and nuts to it, but it's the first time I've made it myself, so I didn't go too crazy.

[Surely everyone made their rice into portable little triangles... ? It was very practical and easy to eat that way! ... She was going to guess maybe that his cooking skill had failed and somehow made the rice all non-sticky, but. Right. Foreign cuisine. (And foreign utensils... She's used a fork before, but the other one is ???)]

Jewelled rice...

[A very fancy title, but one that makes some sense with the explanation. Putting fruit and nuts into rice would sound rather shocking to her, but the taste wasn't anything she was about to complain about. Still, she can't help but be curious, plucking a red bit from the rice and holding it up for inspection in the light.]

This is a fruit seed?

[He smiles, and nods. Most people from Fódlan would probably be fascinated by the fruit too, so he can't blame her for the reaction.]

Yeah, it's from a fruit called a pomegranate. It's a red fruit, about this big, [he gestures to indicate about the size of an apple,] and when you open it up once it's ripe, it's full of these seeds. Kind of a messy process, but they're so tasty, it's worth the effort.

[He tries some of the rice himself, using a spoon instead of his hands, as a demonstration for how to eat it. After a pause and a swallow, he nods his approval.]

Ahh, yeah. It needs work, but that's the taste of home I remember.

[... The tiny, deep ladle looking utensil.

Frowning somewhat self-consciously, Hayame slowly picks the one she assumes is hers up off the table and tries to mimic how Claude holds it, her fingers somewhat wrong in the angle but at least strong enough in the grip.]

I would like to see the fruit one day.

[... It sounded pretty. If fruit could be pretty.

Applying the concentration of a woman doing something far more high stakes than using a spoon... Hayame begins to carefully eat more of the rice, delighting in the little pop-crunching textures of the seeds.]

You are far more accomplished than I expected.

[He'll make a mental note to give her a pomegranate next time he buys some. They are pretty interesting to look at, even without being opened. The flowers are pretty, too.]

In awe of my wide repertoire of skills? [He preens, taking a sip of wine, though the smirk quirking at his expression makes it clear he's not being too serious.] I just like learning new things and experimenting, that's all. It also helps that I love food!

[He laughs. Maybe it's just as well that he's found someone with an appetite even more bottomless than his.]

"Awe" is a very strong word.

[Balancing the spoon takes more effort than she would have thought, but at least she isn't spilling. Wobbling, maybe, but-]

But I was trying to compliment you.

[Just... in case it wasn't clear. She feels her words are often misconstrued by her fellow shard-bearers, so. Just in case.]

I know few men in my world capable of cooking decent fare. Most leave it to their women.

I know. [He reassures her, his expression becoming more gentle as he sets down his glass.] Like I said, the Officer's Academy was a unique place. Food was a thing that could bring us all together, regardless of our differences. Being a man or a woman or anything else had nothing to do with it.

[And back when he was a teenager, that had a huge impact on him. Helping him feel like, if given the right conditions to thrive, his dream just might be possible. He just had to do it in a better way than Rhea's Garreg Mach.]

Even Dimitri cooked despite being a prince, you know? Though his cooking was, uh...

[He tried???]

I still cannot imagine that.

[She admits it freely, even as she awkwardly uses her spoon to shovel some of the vegetables onto her plate. A place where being a king or a peasant didn't matter, where being a woman or a man didn't matter... In her world, such things mattered so much that they defined the course of your entire life.

They'd certainly defined everything about hers. What is that feeling she has, when she hears people talk of such things? Something like jealousy, even though she thinks a better person would be glad that others benefited from such equalities.

Better to think about this Dmitri. The blonde prince hadn't made the most favorable impression on her, (and the entire debacle over the communion in the roots had been... something), but.]

- not good?

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