Peony Min (blackmagicks) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-08-17 15:18:00 |
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Perhaps an afternoon spent in the company of a large number of children ought to have been exhausting, but Peony was happy. She did not make it to Hellebore Street as often as she should, really, with things as hectic as they had been lately. Still, she was very glad Felicity had suggested it, for an afternoon of games, followed by a noisy dinner and a stint in the nursery putting the orphanage’s youngest occupants to bed had brought with it a certain contentment she could rarely attain while engaging in other pursuits. As much as she liked peaceful quiet and contemplation, Peony truly loved children. Now, with the majority of the children settled for the evening, pajamas all donned and stories all read, it was time for another task, no less critical to the happiness of the children sleeping upstairs than the earlier games had been. Hands washed, apron tied around her waist, she began sorting the available ingredients, withdrawing a fair number from several bags she had brought over herself and stored earlier. The orphanage did not often purchase anything that could be considered a luxury, especially with the recent spike in prices, but the way she saw it, the children - and their prospective parents - deserved a bit of a treat tomorrow. It was a picnic, after all. It had been some time since Peony had cooked in an industrial kitchen. Cooking for a few was very different from cooking for a few dozen. Still, she went at her task with cheer and goodwill, thinking how good it felt to be doing such simple yet necessary work. “Sandwiches and salads, I think, for simplicity,” she said. At least, the ingredients provided by the orphanage leaned heavily in that direction. “Perhaps an unexpected treat or two... and something for dessert.” Turning her gaze upon the other two women sharing the kitchen, she smiled. “Your thoughts?” Felicity backed away, her hands up in a warding gesture. “Slow down, there,” she said, eyes comically wide. “I almost thought I just heard you ask my advice on a matter of cooking.” She grinned, tucking a flyaway strand of hair back into the headscarf she wore when she was being ‘Sister Felicity’ in a somewhat official capacity. Peony had borne witness to more than a few of the nun’s kitchen mishaps in the past, but she still seemed to hold some hope. Felicity, meanwhile, had long since abandoned that. Cooking might as well be sourcery, for all she could tell. Ha. Saucery. That one would probably only be funny to her, though, so she didn’t bother speaking it aloud. “Set me vegetables to wash,” she offered instead, rolling up her sleeves. “I can probably manage that.” Perhaps one of her favorite - and secretly indirectly selfish - acts that Aspel tried to regularly partake in was reading bedtime stories to children who otherwise would go without. It had been so long since she had managed to venture off to spend time with the children and the smith had promised them a new book the last time she had visited. Of course, as she was not one to go back on her word, when Aspel arrived she did so with new story in hand. While certainly no Bard - nor would she ever claim to be - Aspel did her best to delight and entertain. Trying to attempt different voices and accents for varying characters and failing mostly when it came to the accented bit, her own Kerowian accent hindering her more than she’d really care for. Though, after knowing Mag for so long, she could sometimes half ass an Ordalian one with quite a bit of effort. Regardless of her storytelling preferences, today had ended up being the perfect day to slip away, to read stories and pull blankets up to cover babes as they rested serenely in their beds. It was both heart warming, and breaking all at the same time. Aspel’s love for children clashed with her far fetched desire for her own that would never be, and her love of their innocence reminded her of other young children she once knew, decades before that she had read stories to which turned on her in her hour of greatest needs yet... It was beyond them to understand how they broke their sister’s heart. “Washing, chopping.” A hand signal was giving with the words and a warm smiling. “I fear I may not be good for much else within the cooking endeavour if there is to be actual flame taken to something that is supposed to remain edible, and enjoyable by the end.” It was an unfortunate truth, but one that was what it was, all the same. Maybe if Aspel was having a lucky night she’d be able to really help but.... No one here really needed her to try her luck. “Baking however,” Aspel’s smile widened a bit at the suggestion of treats that they may be able to offer the children, and hopefully the guests that would be so moved, that they would take the children and give them the beautiful, warm, loving, supporting homes they all so rightfully deserved. “I most certainly can do.” Her gaze dropped down, with hands shifting to wipe against her apron. “Cookies, perhaps?” With hands dried, Aspel’s view raised once again, her eyes dancing a bit regardless of herself. How she did love baking for the small ones. If Peony was at all fazed that the cooking meant for three people would likely rest primarily on her shoulders, she gave no sign. Instead, she indicated the bin of fresh vegetables which had just been pulled from the crisper. Primarily lettuce and tomatoes for the sandwiches, and a variety of other vegetables that needed peeling and chopping to make for healthful snacks to accompany the meal. There was a ham, she knew, and a roast of beef, and cheese - courtesy of her own shopping - so she thought the meal, if plain, would turn out hearty and rather tasty. “Vegetables to peel and chop,” she said to the Sister with a smile. “And cookies keep rather well,” she continued, this time to the smith. “Better than the muffins I was about to suggest. I hope that we have all that is needed, I brought sugar, in case it could be useful, and I know there is butter and flour. You will have to cast around for the rest of the ingredients, I am afraid. I tried to bring the things I thought might be... troublesome for the matron to acquire, but I may not have thought of everything.” Meantime, she supposed she would commence with the ham and the roast, so that she might begin assembling the sandwiches. As she began carving the meat into thin, even slices and folding them onto a platter, she kept an eye on Felicity. She had seen the other woman’s attempts at cooking in the past, and they wanted to leave this kitchen as they had found it. “How are your students coming along?” she asked of Felicity while she worked. The other woman’s stories were invariably touching, amusing, and unbelievable by turns, and she thought the subject would be one of interest to all parties. “Ooo, cookies,” Felicity said, and grinned at the other woman. “That’s a cause almost worth my attempting to cook! But I’m happy to enjoy the smells, and stick to veg myself...” Experience had proven that to be the safest path. That decided, the nun picked up a bowl and filled it with tomatoes, carrying it across to the sink. They looked crisp and bright red, still clinging to the vine in clumps of four or five. She set the water flowing gently and began to clean them, plucking them free of leaves one by one. “My students...” Felicity started, then grinned. “They are, as always, a hilarious mix of clumsy puppies and festering hormones, varying with age.” She raised an eyebrow at Peony. “A certain sibling of yours has taken to pestering my ferret with various projectiles. I’m fairly certain Thistle retaliated, because the boy now seems somewhat terrified.” She looked over her shoulder at Aspel. “I hear from Drake that the council is struggling to find enough mentors for those squires who are ready and searching. Have you any news on that front?” |