Today was the day… er night rather.
Yes tonight was the night when Aya was finally going to succeed. Going to corner that clown, strip his clothes off… except maybe the hat, yes that could stay… and have ALL of her ways with him. Ways that sent minute shivers skipping along her nerves every time they came to mind.
And ooooh how they came to mind, chirping at her at the most inappropriate times, wafting through her brain no matter what the occasion. Every flat surface became an embodiment of robe hiking potential and red cheeked embarrassment. And she'd never be able to look at leather strips the same way after a particular potent scenario had sprung up most unwanted while she helped Arnbjorn man the forge. That incident had been particularly bad, so carried away by her thoughts, that she had burned her hand in a moment of clumsiness and almost set fire to Arnbjorn's eyebrows. To say the werewolf had been unpleased… understatement of the era.
But not tonight, oh no, she was going to get these feelings… these yearnings out of her system once and for all.
'Well maybe not just once…' She was unconsciously smirking before she even had time to hush that little nagging voice in the back of her head, the one she liked to blame for all the debaucherous thoughts that made her mind dirtier that the grey quarter of Windhelm.
Into the kitchen she secreted herself, suspicious eyes scanning the dark living quarters that sat off to her right. Nothing stirred.
She knew there wouldn't be anyone there, that it was just her honed paranoia getting the better of her. After all, Astrid was playing with her maps, Arnbjorn was hammering on something at the forge, Babbette had gone out to eat someone, Gabriella was in the study reading "A game at dinner", Festus was out on a job, Veezara was stabbing the training dummies while Nazir watched and the mad fool of hearts himself was pacing the night mother's chapel like a … well madman of course.
That left her, alone, in the kitchen, with a unlabeled potion in one hand and a manic look to her eye.
"You are absolutely positive that this will do what I need it to?" Aya stared at the red goo gurgling in it's unmarked clear bottle. Seeing it move about on its own had her mildly questioning the entire idea of slipping a certain red haired jester a little 'love in a bottle' as the peddler had called it.
Of course what she expected from a creaky old man selling his wares out of a tattered canvas covered wagon in the middle of nowhere she didn't exactly know. But she was pretty sure she didn't expect it to gurgle at her.
"Lass, how many times do I have to repeat myself? You slip that to your victim… er the fellow you're interested in wooing and you can sit back and enjoy at least a full night of… affection from said fellow." The peddler spoke surprisingly well for someone who only had half their teeth left and looked like a stiff breeze would carry him off into the sunset like a dandelion puff.
"I just want to be sure before I part with that many septims." Aya was hard to part with her money regardless of what the purchase was, but given how much trouble this little crush of hers was causing her, this seemed honestly worth it. Even if the contents of the bottle she held were questionable. "Is it supposed to hiss at me like that?"
"Listen lass, I don't got all day. Now either slap them septims down or be off. I ain't got time fer all these questions."
"Fine fine I'll buy it," she said hastily, upturning her meager coinpurse into the old man's hand. "So how do I use it?"
"Just get the sod you wanna snog to take it, that's all ya gotta do."
"How am I supposed to get him to drink something that looks like it will bite you the moment you pull out the stopper?"
"Not my problem lass, hide it in his drink or in his stew. Don't matter one way or the other. Bake it in a cake if ya like." The stout grump was already jumping back up to the driver seat of his wagon, quite done with his customer now that he had the gold in hand.
"Now what a minute! I just paid you all my gold the least you can do is answer a few questions. Like does it have any side effects?"
But the man was away, rattling down the road and leaving her to pat dust from her dark robe in annoyance.
That had been four days ago. Four long nerve wrecking days.
Aya had gone back and forth with herself for hours in those days, debate after lost debate with that little voice in her head. And when it won and a plan had formed, she had fetched the bottle she'd hidden in the chest by her bed under her smalls and dagger. snuck down to the kitchen and begun the slow and delicate process that would bring her plan to sweet fruition. That had led to the here and now, with her hand poised over a vat of freshly made frosting and the still warm from the oven cake waiting patiently on the table.
In went the potion, hissing and sputtering all the way into the pot. She stirred, watching the white and red merge into a cheerful pink. Then onto the cooling cake, its spongy fluff absorbing the glaze greedily. Next the knife and plate, a slice here, a cut there and Aya had a fat slice sectioned off and ready to be lovingly forked into her dreamy madman's mouth.
She paused then, fretful about whether the section she had was big enough, and if there was enough frosting coating it for the potion to work. Did she need more glaze? More cake even? Would the cake counteract the potion?
She shook off that last worry, after all the old man had said 'bake a cake', and she had. It didn't make sense for him to tell her to do it in such a way as to render his own potion inert. She was just anxious was all. 'Just some errant butterflies working their way from my gut to my head,' she told herself as she picked the plate up and grabbed a fork.
She made it to the end of the table before it occurred to her that if tonight was going to be… the night… then it wouldn't do to look like a carriage wreck. And with flour coating her clothes, frosting smeared down one cheek and her hair matted with sweat from slaving over a hot oven for an hour, she looked very much a murderous mess.
'Well that won't do, a quick wash and a change of clothes are in order,' she sighed, setting the cake slice back on the table and hurrying off towards the stairs.
'We should leave the frosting on our cheek though… that way he can lick i...'
'Nine divines can't you wait a second you strumpet? I swear I need to scrub you right out of my head one of these days.'
'You are welcome to try darlin'.'
Aya gave up trying to argue with the needy not-so-little voice in her head and instead grabbed a cloth and some fresh clothes before running off for a quick bath.
"Hey Aya what are you cooking in here? It smells fantastic." Gabriella called, stepping through the rough stone archway that parted the study from the kitchen, led by the scent of heated sugar and baked goods. But when she looked for the family's newest member there was neither hide nor hair of the eager assassin.
"Well at least she was kind enough to make enough for the rest of us," the Dunmer woman murmured to herself with a shrug, her gaze falling onto the source of that delicious aroma which was slowly filling the sanctuary. "Oooh snowberry frosting! My favorite." She needed no more motivation than that, the plate Aya had set down mere moments ago now snatched up by grey hands as the clink of fork on stoneware proceeded that first sweet bite.
Aya had dawdled longer than she had intended, scrubbing and re-scrubbing herself until she felt clean enough to dress for the occasion.
'I don't know why we're bothering getting clean now, we're just going to get all dirty again.'
'Hush you.' She chided but knew it was likely true, if she had her way… she'd need another good scrub, much like the one her mind currently needed. But at least her skin was clean, she doubted a dirty mind would be much of a problem given the nature of what she intended to happen.
All she had to do was go fetch her slice of cake and give it to Cicero. Simple really, nothing to it.
Of course, when she went back to the kitchen, and found most of her family members sitting around the table with slices of HER CAKE in various stages of being eaten… it seemed 'simple', was simply not on the menu.