Take Some Flower and Break Some Legs into a Bowl... Huh?

[Quibby]

There! A name had finally emerged from all the chaotic reports of that incident in Lugard. The gleeman Jaros Nameros had apparently been responsible for the initial attack. However, the woman on the stage had named him Joar, and he had named her Nemene. Though the information was sketchy, somebody had mentioned the name Joar in conjuntion with the Forsaken. He had people looking into that connection. It was a lead, a link in the chain that would eventually lead to the long, drawn-out death of a murderer. A grim smile slowly crept its way onto Mehrin's face. There was something missing, however...

 

A quick look at the small clock on his desk told him all that he needed to know. Setting the paperwork, the worries, and all the other troubles that accompanied the rank of commander on his desk with his pen, Mehrin gathered his hat and cloak and strode out of the office. For once, he was actually happy to be heading in the direction of the kitchen. Typically, he couldn't even get past the smell of the place, but today would be an exception. For one, he had ordered this particular kitchen shut down for the day for its monthly cleaning. More importantly, though, was his purpose there.

 

Ever since she had gotten to the Citadel, Renalie had been begging Mehrin to bake a cake or something with her. He had agreed, as a naming day present. Aldar would be bringing her from whatever they had been doing previously. He was probably the best choice of bodyguards that Mehrin could have made.

 

The walk to the kitchens didn't take too long. His appearance was useful for that. Too bad that the speed was accompanied by salutes from every other person that saw him. I really should have put a stop to that as soon as I figured out that it'd be a problem! The blessed odorlessness of the kitchen was more welcome than Mehrin would have thought. Stepping inside, he took a seat on a counter and awaited Renalie's arrival.

[Winter Mist]

~Renalie~

 

He did look a sight. Aldar had a black hat on, scavenged from somewhere, and a ragged scrap of black material over one eye, and a wooden sword in the other. His limp made him look really fierce, accompanied by strange noises of some regional dialect that Renalie could not place. “Arrr, Arrr!” He kept saying, over and over, and chasing her around the room. Renalie squealed happily and ran away from him, hiding behind the wooden chest she had deemed to be her ‘castle’ and pulled the lid up to be her ‘drawbridge’ so he could not get in. The nasty brigand would not be storming Castle Mehrin today! Green eyes darted to the pile of her treasure beside her; a dented tin cup, a string of beads that one of the maids had given her because she was such a beautiful child, and an apple which, to her mind, was in fact an angreal of such high renown that the White Tower itself had been loathe to let it out of their sight.

 

A pair of hands appeared at the top of her drawbridge. The man had become a giant! Renalie let out another squeal, followed by a giggle, and held the apple aloft. The chest lid fell, the man taking his hands back quickly to reveal the disguised Aldar cackling maniacally. Concentrating, Renalie closed her eyes and pretended to channel flows of Air the way and Aes Sedai would do, and she dashed forward and pulled his eye patch off. She laughed and crowed her superiority over him, punching her fist into the air. Aldar, defeated, bowed his head to his lady and knelt down, offering his wooden sword in servitude. Renalie smiled, and in gestures she had read about in storybooks, took his sword and brought it down once on each shoulder, and then on the top of his head. Unfortunately, she did not know her own strength, and brought it down hard enough to make poor Aldar wince.

 

Suddenly brought back to his senses, Aldar remembered where he was supposed to be taking Renalie at this time, a nice surprise that the Commander had promised a while ago. Hopefully, the little girl would have forgotten by now and the look on her face would be a treat. “Renalie, you have to come with me now.”

 

Renalie looked at her newest knight, and smiled. “Arise, Sir Aldar, and lead me to our meeting.” She sounded like a daughter heir. They always said things like “Arise” or other words like that. Grinning, Renalie put the apple and the other items back into her ‘castle’ for safekeeping and closed the lid, taking Aldar’s hand; they walked along the corridors to some wonderful treat. It looked to be the way to the kitchens from what she could remember. It was nice to be learning a bit more about the place. It was the way to the kitchens! What was going on?

 

The door swung open, and Aldar stepped back, bowing grandly and allowing his lady to enter before him. “Thank you, Sir Aldar … Daddy!” Her eyes lit up like the evening celebrations at Sunday when she saw Mehrin sat waiting patiently. Abandoning the assumed dignity that a pretending daughter heir should have, Renalie ran across the floor and threw her arms around his neck. “Daddy!” She cried, hugging him. “What are you doing here?”

[Quibby]

With a happy smile, Mehrin wrapped his arms around Renalie, holding her tightly. One of these days, he'd have to figure out just how she had managed to worm her way into his heart. However she had done it, Mehrin was glad that she had. The world, it seemed, was more than a delay between battles. As he held his daughter, Mehrin began to wonder, yet again, what he would do with her if the Band were called away, or worse... What if the Citadel was attacked? You bloody fool! This is supposed to be a happy event. Deal with it later. Setting Renalie down on the counter, Mehrin said, "Well, I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. However, you'll have to forgive me, as I have no idea how one goes about baking a cake."

 

The sudden, excited look on Renalie's face was more than worth the embarassment that he knew was coming. Not only did he not know how to bake a cake, he couldn't even cook properly. The best that he could do was roast a rabbit on a stick. Not what he'd call the pinnacle of the culinary arts, to be sure. He had, however, recruited the use of one of the cooks available at the Citadel. And a real cook, for once, not a field mess officer. If he was going to do this, Mehrin had every intention of doing it properly.

 

Aldar had stationed himself near the door in the event that somebody tried to take them unawares. Lifting Renalie off the counter, Mehrin carried her to where the cook was waiting as patiently as the sack of flour on the floor next to him. Mehrin let Renalie down to the floor, and as she explored the kitchen, Mehrin whispered to the cook, "This never happened, you understand?" If the Band found out that its commander had taken an afternoon off to bake a cake with his daughter, Mehrin would never hear the end of it.

[Winter Mist]

~Renalie~

 

A cake? A cake! Daddy was going to make a cake with her! She hugged him tightly, feeling him return the hug gratefully. Had she ever thought he was a smelly old bear? He was wonderful! Renalie toyed with the possibilities in her mind … a lemon cake, an orange cake, a nutty cake or a fruitcake? She didn’t know what the cook had in the way of ingredients, but she did like the idea of a nutty cake. Or better yet, a nutty fruitcake… Either way, this was going to be fun! The cook was a round-faced man, not surprising, Renalie thought, since he worked with food all day. He probably tasted a fair bit of it before it went into the pot, come to think of it. No, he wouldn’t, surely? Renalie reluctantly let her father go and went to the counter, peering over the top to see what was there.

 

A pound of butter, a basket full of eggs, some honey, lots of raisins, dried figs and chopped peel, hazelnuts, a pitcher of milk so cold that condensation glistened on the outside of the jug and the sack of flour. There looked to be enough ingredients here to feed an army full of cake! Renalie didn’t know if she could make that many cakes and felt a little resentful that she was going to have to share the fruits of her time with her father with all the people here, but she could at least make sure that they got the larger part of the cake to themselves. Her mother would have loved doing this – Renalie had always enjoyed baking cakes for eating after dinner with mama, but now she would never be able to again. She bit her lip.

 

Daddy was smiling though, so it was difficult to stay sad for long.

 

“We need a big mixing bowl, daddy. What sort of cake do you want? I want to make a fruitcake. A big fruitcake!” Renalie giggled and took a cup from the side, dipping it into the sack of flour as the cook was telling her to do and to put it into the big bowl that had suddenly appeared on the counter in front of her. Sir Aldar was guarding the door to make sure no knave stole the precious cakes they were going to make. He made a fearsome protector, standing there looking proud (if slightly amused) at the sight of her imperial nine-year-old self and her righteous father with rolled up sleeves and floury hands.

[Quibby]

OOC: Are you insinuating something with that fruitcake comment, young lady? ;)

 

IC: "A fruitcake sounds fine to me," Mehrin said, smiling. He couldn't remember ever trying fruitcake, though there were rumors of a few in the Band. And, supposedly, they were as old as the Band, too. It was not a pleasant thought, to say the least. Mehrin could imagine biting into a slice of the final product and losing half of his teeth in the process. Tossing his cloak unceremoniously on a pile of potatoes, Mehrin rolled up his sleeves and braced himself for the upcoming ordeal. I doubt that there's a better word for it, he thought.

 

Mistake number one was not long in coming. The flour in the bowl, Mehrin wasted no time in mixing it, the white powder billowing out of the large bowl, coating his hands, face and clothes. "Ummm... sir? You're not supposed to do that yet." The cook's amusement wasn't even concealed. Mehrin was a bit glad for the thin layer of flour on his face; the slight reddening of his features from restrained laughter would have been hard to explain. Giving the bowl another glance, Mehrin shrugged once and put it back on the counter.

 

A quick dusting was all that was needed to remove most of the flour from Mehrin's face, soon he was at it again. Lifting Renalie back onto the counter, he slid the eggs between them so she could reach. Ah, breaking things! Something I'm good at, Mehrin thought, a small grin coming onto his face. Lifting one of the eggs from the basket, Mehrin found himself wondering just who had thought to eat these first. The person must have been either really hungry or insane. With a chuckle, Mehrin cracked the egg on the side of the bowl, emptying the contents into the flour. "I think I'm doing this right," Mehrin said, shrugging as he reached for another egg. "However, I'll eat the first piece, just in case."

[Winter Mist]

~Renalie~

 

Strong arms around her waist lifted Renalie to the counter top. Good. Now she could see what was going on without having to stand on tiptoe all the time. That was such a pain! Just in time to see her father dusting his face free from the flour that covered it. Oh, look, he looks like a snowman! Seeing the traces of flour clinging to his collar, Renalie reached forward and brushed it lightly with delicate fingers and then sat back to watch what he was doing. With some of the flour already in the bowl, she watched her father expertly crack an egg on the side of the bowl and dropping it into the flour before reaching for a second. And then went on to say that he’d eat the first piece.

 

“No, you can’t do that daddy, you’re too important! I want to eat the first piece. You do want to make me happy don’t you, daddy?”

 

Guileless green eyes stared into her father’s slightly bloodshot ones. She could see he was considering it, but still suspected she’d have to fight him for it. Maybe they could test it out on Aldar… “I want to crack an egg too!” Renalie crowed and reached forward, breaking it hard on the side of the bowl and causing sticky egg to run down the outside. Half of it did, in fairness, go into the bowl. When the large bowl landed on the counter-top again, half the flour flew upwards to where her father was surveying the damage that Renalie had done.

 

“Daddy!” Renalie shouted as the white powder flew upwards and coated her father once more. She clamped a hand over her face to stop the giggle she knew was going to come out of her if she was not careful, and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings too much. “I’m sorry!” Her sticky hands reached up to his face to try and blot some of the flour off, but her hands were messy and she managed to get flour all over her hands, and egg on his face. “Oh. Well. Hmm.” She smiled and scratched her eyebrow, getting half of it over her own face. What a pair they made!

[Quibby]

Being a parent was harder than being a general, Mehrin had decided. If a man tried to make a fool of you as a general, he could be dealt with. If one's child did it through an accident, all one could do is laugh. So when Mehrin found himself quite thoroughly coated for a second time in flour, it was all he could do not to start laughing out loud. Renalie's reaction was priceless. Stifling her own giggles, she tried to wipe some of the flour off his face, resluting in a larger mess than before, with traces of egg now mixed with the flour. When she scratched her face, though, and coated her own face in the sticky concoction, Mehrin couldn't resist any longer. His shoulders shaking with each chuckle, he said, "At this rate, they're going to have to bake us if we want a cake out of the deal."

 

The cake, it seemed, was only going to be a fraction of the planned size, seeing how a good portion of the ingredients had gone into making Mehrin a ghost. Just as well; Mehrin really didn't feel like sharing a cake that he and his daughter had made with the Band. Besides, they'd probably never forgive him for it.

 

The final few eggs went into the bowl, and with a triumphant grin, Mehrin said, "Now it's on to the next step. Ummm..." Mehrin looked at the ingredients spread out on the table, totally confused. "The next step is... ummm..." Giving up, he turned to the cook. "Just what is the next step anyway?" The man rolled his eyes and pointed at the pitcher of milk. "Ah, yes, the milk. I knew that. Right." Sliding the pitcher across the counter to Renalie, Mehrin said, "You do the honors."

[Winter Mist]

~Renalie~

 

“No, no, no.” Renalie chided her father for pushing the wrong ingredient her way. Had he never made a cake in his life? Silly man! Such a great leader of men must surely know how to make a cake. He was supposed to know everything! He was daddy. Daddy knew everything. “You add the honey next.” And with that, Renalie reached over and grabbed for the stone jar of honey and the strangely shaped spoon that the cook had placed on the table. Turning it over and over in her hands she realised that it must be a special spoon, just for honey, because it had an elongated handle and there were slits in it which, from the looks of it, allowed the honey to run through it easier. She’d always loved it when her mother had made cakes with her, and particularly when her mother had allowed her to lick the honey spoon with the big lot of sticky honey stuck in the middle of the flat spoon she’d used. It looked awkward to lick this one. She’d try though!

 

Experimentally, she dipped the odd-looking spoon into the jar of honey and lifted it out, noticing how a little had spilt over the edge and onto the top of the counter. A finger dipped into the sweet stickiness, and tasted it. Mmm, it did taste nice. So sweet!

 

“We need to put this in the bowl before we add the milk, and then add the milk a little at a time so it doesn’t go all … icky.” Renalie didn’t know the correct word. Icky was a very descriptive word; one she used quite often when something was messy, but with the added stickiness that made it more than messy. Her hands had got quite icky when she had played in the mud once, and her mother had scolded her furiously.

 

“But mama, I was only making mud pies!”

“That doesn’t matter, Renalie. Look at the state of your hands – you look like you should work in the mines, in the dark!”

“Ah, mama, they’ll be clean after I’ve washed them.”

“Not looking like that they won’t be. Come here, child, and I’ll scrub them for you.”

 

She had done, and it had taken a long time for the clinging, soupy mud to be rinsed from her childish fingers. That seemed like ages ago. Now mother was gone… “Oh, daddy…” Her voice trembled, but held firm, and she spooned some of the honey into the bowl. It mixed with the flour and eggs in a lumpy heap, and then she followed the sweet syrupy mess with some milk from the pitcher.

[Quibby]

Mehrin shot a look at the cook, who returned his gaze steadily. Maybe choosing him for the job hadn't been the best idea. If his daughter knew more about baking a cake than him... Now wasn't the time to be shouting. Not only would it do him very little good in the long run, Mehrin tried to keep that part of him subdued as much as possible when around Renalie. She was too young to know what kind of a man her father was. If he had his way, Renalie would never know that her father was a killer. How many times are you going to do this? Be happy, for Light's sake! Smiling, Mehrin watched as Renalie examined the... What was that thing? It appeared to be a miniature version of a mace or something. Why was it in a kitchen? As he watched, Renalie dipped the thing into the stone crock of honey. The way that the thing seemed to soak up the honey revealed its purpose. Ah, aha, Mehrin thought as Renalie said, “We need to put this in the bowl before we add the milk, and then add the milk a little at a time so it doesn’t go all … icky.”

 

The word 'icky' struck Mehrin as amusing, and he had to pretend as if he were scratching his nose in order to hide the goofy grin that came onto his face. Stifling laughter was never easy. Quietly regaining his composure, Mehrin watched as his daughter's eyes took on a distant look. When she spoke again, her voice had gone from the playful ordering tone it had held to something more sad. "Oh, daddy..." she said, her voice trembling as if she were holding back tears. She seemed to regain control of herself, though, and meticulously shoveled honey into the messy concoction, pouring milk in on top of it.

 

Thinking about her mother again, Mehrin thought sadly, placing a hand on Renalie's shoulder as she put down the pitcher. "Ummm... Mehrin?" the cook muttered. Leaning in, the man whispered into Mehrin's ear, "Forgot a step. We should have blended the sugar and butter first. Like this, I have no idea how this will turn out." Mehrin sighed. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. One lesson that Mehrin had learned on the battlefield, though, was improvisation. Again sparing a look for the cook, Mehrin said, "Well, let's add the sugar and butter next." Hopefully, she didn't know the recipe much better than he did. Handing Renalie the spoon, Mehrin dumped the premeasured amount of sugar into the bowl, sending a billowing puff of flour out of the large bowl and over his face again. That was going to get old. It was with a dantier touch that Mehrin added the butter, leaning away from the bowl to avoid a repeat of the previous occurence.

[Winter Mist]

~Renalie~

 

Daddy was going to look like a ghost at this rate. So much flour had ended up over the pair of them that Renalie was beginning to wonder if the cake would rise at all! She saw him adding the butter and sugar, mixing them together as thoroughly as they could with the sturdy wooden spoon. Renalie turned big green eyes onto her father and looked pleadingly at him.

 

“Can I have a turn at stirring, daddy?”

 

She crowed happily at her father’s nod of assent, handing over the spoon with mock seriousness that made Renalie giggle. What she really wanted to do was to knight him the way she had done with Aldar earlier today, but memories of the stern man that had nearly sent her away made her not want to, in case he tried to do that again. Where would she go now if she could not return home to mama? Instead, with infinite care, Renalie stirred the mixture of flour, eggs, honey, butter and sugar and watched with amazement as it turned into a sort of gooey mixture as all the ingredients started to meld together. On impulse, she dipped her finger into the sticky mixture and licked it, smiling as the robustly sweet substance tickled the taste buds on her tongue and sat happily in her tummy.

 

“Mm, this is good!” Another finger darted into the bowl for another taste. Catching her father’s expression, Renalie looked guilty and realised if she didn’t stop eating the cake mixture, she’d not leave any to be baked. Renalie didn’t want that because then they wouldn’t be able to have a cup of tea and a nice slice of cake and then where would they be? With her free hand she reached over to pick up a handful of sultanas and dried figs to go into the mixture and started stirring it in. This was going to be the tastiest cake these kitchens had ever seen!

 

The fruit folded into the creamy mixture; little lumps forming under the surface as they became coated with uncooked cake, moving, slowly swirling and eventually settling. The odd little air bubble popped to the surface here and there, and Renalie stopped stirring to cast an appraising eye over the unbaked result.

 

“Hmm,” she pondered, absently dipping another finger in and tasting it. “It needs more fruit.” She nodded, and then looked appealingly at her father to put some more of the dried fruit to moisten up the finished product. Suddenly, Renalie had a very grown up thought, and her green eyes held grave depths as she pretended she was her mother, making a cake for her husband on a special occasion. “Should we put some brandy in it?”

[Quibby]

“Hmm, it needs more fruit," Renalie said thoughtfully, dipping her finger into the batter. As she continued stirring, Mehrin sprinkled more of the fruit and nuts into the mix, watching as they spread throughout the entire thing. He couldn't remember the last time he had had cake. It very well could have been ten years ago, when Renalie's mother- Mehrin sharply cut off that line of thought. The last thing he needed was to remember Ana right now. The grief was still too near. A glance at his daughter revealed that she had something on her mind. Before he could ask her what she was thinking, Renalie asked, “Should we put some brandy in it?”

 

It had been a long time since Mehrin's last drink, yet the mention of brandy was enough to remind him of how it felt. No! I will NOT fall into that again! Brandy in a cake wouldn't be as bad as brandy in a glass, but Mehrin was not about to come near that slippery slope again. A reformed alcoholic he may be, but an alcoholic was still an alcoholic. And Mehrin still believed that he was one. Instead of trying to explain that, though, Mehrin went a different route. "Maybe when you're older. For now, let's settle for fruit and nuts, shall we?"

 

Things seemed to be going well. The batter was smooth and lump-free as far as Mehrin could tell. The fruit was mixed in, and the fingerful of the batter that Mehrin had taken actually tasted pretty good. For a while, Mehrin sat looking at the bowl, wondering whether there was some step that he was missing, some ingredient that needed adding. Then, with a shrug, Mehrin asked, "Well, do you think we need to add anything else to it?" The question, though addressed to his daughter, was as much for the cook as it was for her. Mehrin had no idea whether there were any more steps in the process. As an afterthought, he added lightly, "And no, we're not adding brandy."

[Winter Mist]

~Renalie~

 

“No, daddy, there aren’t any more steps to making a cake. All of the bits are mixed together and now it just needs baking.” Out of the corner of her eye, Renalie saw the cook nodding his agreement, and she clapped her hands together delightedly, which, of course, sent up little puffs of flour all over her face. Smiling at her father, Renalie lifted the bowl of creamy cake mixture up and offered it towards him and, when he took it, she picked up the tins that they’d bake and shape in. And the cook promptly took the cake tins out of Renalie’s hands and rubbed butter around their rim and then put flour in so the cake “wouldn’t stick while it was cooking.” That point was well-made, and Renalie nodded the way her mother would’ve done, had she lived.

 

A dollop of batter went into each tin, smoothed around so that there were no obvious lumpy bits sticking out. Well, her daddy might not want brandy in it, but there was nothing to say there couldn’t be fresh cream and berries in between the two halves. This was going to be the best cake ever made! Aldar could have a slice, and Daddy, and whoever else was nice to her from the men and women that Daddy trusted.

 

“And now we cook it until it is brown.” She didn’t know how long it would take, but trusted to the cook to take it to the large flat wall that had a large door set into it – the oven. That would be where all the bread was baked. If her father trusted him, Renalie would too. As the rotund man took the tins to a large fireplace, Renalie watched him and wondered if that was what she wanted to do when she grew up. So far the list had included: An Aes Sedai, a nurse, a stable hand and a singer, and now she added the title of Renalie Malon, Mistress of the Kitchens. She liked singer the most though, but cooking for lots of people would be nice too. Everyone was happy when the food was good, and if Renalie was a good cook then everyone would like her. Even that nasty woman she remembered from when she’d first arrived. Now all that remained was to while away the time until the cakes were ready to eat!

 

“Daddy, would you play Snakes and Foxes with me?”

[Quibby]

Light, how long had it been since he'd played Snakes and Foxes? He must have been eleven or twelve by the time he realized that there was no way that he could win without cheating. Idly, Mehrin wondered when Renalie would reach the same conclusion. However, he didn't mind losing as long as she was having fun. "I don't have a board or the pieces, but if you know of one laying around somewhere, I'd be more than happy to play a few games."

 

A few minutes later found Mehrin and Renalie leaning over the counter, looking at the game board. The tokens were set out, and all that was left was to start the game. Lifting his hand into the air, Mehrin hesitantly drew the symbol with his finger, a triangle with a wavy line through the center of it. Straining his memory, he sought the correct words. "Courage to strengthen, fire to, ah, blind, music to dazzle, and, ummm, iron to bind." Smiling weakly, Mehrin handed Renalie the leather dice cup. "You start."

[Winter Mist]

~Renalie~

 

There had to be a way to win! Taking the leather dice cup from her father, Renalie uttered the words with a fervour akin to a zealot speaking words as a talisman against ill-luck and spilled the dice onto the counter. She moved her pieces down the board that resembled a spider's web and handed the dice and holder back to her father for the next go. "Come on, daddy, the cakes will be burnt by the time we win!" Was that a small frown on daddy's face? No, it couldn't have been - they were playing a fun game and making a cake and enjoying themselves. And when they won the game they could celebrate with a slice of cake and a cup of tea!

 

It wouldn't take long for the cakes to bake, not with a really hot oven. Renalie had stolen a glance at one of the large wall ovens while her father had been setting up the Snakes and Foxes board ready for them to play and Renalie had remembered thinking to herself that a person could hide in that oven if they really wanted to. It would be silly to, because if someone started a fire then they'd be cooked inside it, and roasted regiments would not go down too well with the canteen staff. And it would be painful too! Her mother... Oh, Light, Mama! had always told Renalie to not go near flames because they were hot and they'd burn her fair skin.

 

Winning was looking less and less likely with each roll of the dice. Pieces were taken left, right and centre, and Renalie began to lose hope of winning this game. There would be other games though, and as the final piece was taken, a large hand landed on her shoulder causing Renalie to look up at her daddy. A consoling expression appeared on his face tinged with sadness that his daughter did not see the futility of it all and Renalie just smiled back. "We'll get there! Next time, we'll get there." The large cook walked over holding a cloth covered tray. "Ooh, they're done!"

 

Her exclamation made the cook smile at Aldar, stood in the doorway watching with the amused tolerance of one that knows children. The cloth was whisked back to reveal two dark brown rounds of cake, tiny holes in the centre where the cook had pierced them with a metal skewer to see if they were done, Obviously they were, or he would have put them back in the oven for a little longer to cook. Now, they just needed a knife and a couple of plates, and they'd be happy.