A/N: In need for some inspiration, I recently offered "15 minute request drabbles" to members of livejournal. These are the results.

For pyrefly: Albert and the line "What happened to the garlic butter?"

Few things bothered Albert more than bad smells. He could handle watching death claim someone, but the stench of the corpse would flip his stomach. And tonight, he had discovered the worst smell of all--his younger brother's horrible breath.

He wasn't sure what Caesar had eaten, but every time his mouth opened, Albert swore the end of the world was nigh. It was a vile smell--strong and penetrating. Albert had tried backing away and sitting at the opposite end of the table, but he could not get away from it. Every move he made Caesar followed, giggling. Apparently this was a game of tag to him.

Fortunately, bedtime came early for the younger child, so Albert had some time to investigate the cause of smell. He snuck into the kitchen and began searching the cabinets and icebox until he found what could only be the offending item. Quickly, he disposed of it outside.

The next morning, one of the maids was heard to say, "What happened to the garlic butter?"

Albert could only grin at his victory.

For iyori: Mathiu and the theme "Raven"

(Hm...only two things came to mind with this prompt: Shu's hair and the poem "The Raven" I combined the two...sorta, I guess)

"Why Master?" the young man asked as he looked up from the textbook in front of him. "Everyone says that you were the best. Why just up and quit?"

"I'd rather not discuss that with you, Shu."

"Why not? I've read all of the history. I know how you won battle after battle for the Emperor."

Mathiu Silverberg pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, you only read what those who wrote wanted to you believe. Let's not discuss it."

Shu, like any inquisitive adolescent persisted. "So what is it that they don't want me to know?"

Never for a moment did Mathiu hint at losing his patience, though his reply came as a question. "Have you ever seen death?"

"No. You can't see death, Master. That's an impossible question."

"Allow me to rephrase: Have you ever watched someone die?"

"No, but what does this have to do with why you refuse to return to your commission in the Imperial Army?"

Mathiu sighed and shook his head, his thick auburn hair accentuating the small motion. "Armies fight wars. Death comes with war, Shu. Death and war--they are not mutually exclusive. If you are willing to fight in an army, to lead them to war, you need to be able to handle death."

"Forgive me, Master, but you handled it before."

"That is true, but once I saw how I was destroying people's lives and families, I stopped. Nevermore will I participate in such activity."

Shu gave a slight grin at his teacher. "Yet you instruct us in your craft."

"Only with the hope that when war breaks out--and it will, since we as a civilization are not intelligent enough to use diplomacy to solve our problems--that you can stop it. The moment you use your talents to manipulate nations, people, even a dog, is the moment that you have forgotten everything that I've taught you."

Shu returned to reading his text, but more questions remained. He knew they would have to wait for another time, though. Master Mathiu had already moved to sit in his favorite chair by the fire. He would not speak again that night.

For chibisophita: Odessa and Leon having a conversation.

Leon Silverberg didn't know how to speak to children. It wasn't that he couldn't learn, it was that he didn't see the point in learning. When his own son was born, he sent him off to school during those awkward child-years so that he wouldn't have to communicate with him. It was a sound plan; when George returned in his teens, Leon treated him as an adult.

His plan was working well until his older brother's children became his problem. With George away at school, he generally left them to the servants to deal with. It wasn't that they were bad--hardly. Both were well mannered, and the boy definitely had promise. It was the girl.

Odessa was flighty and sometimes downright annoying to him. She'd ask him a million questions and then dispute the answers. It wasn't a good sort of dispute, either. It was more of her lack of understanding that led to more questions. It was a vicious circle and Leon, quite frankly, did not have time for it.

One morning, she traipsed into his study, her toy cat in her arms. "Good morning, Uncle Leon!"

"Hello, Odessa."

"I have a question!" she said, smiling.

"Why don't you ask Mathiu?" Leon responded, hoping his nephew could run interferance on this one. He had work to do.

"Math said I should ask you!"

Leon frowned. The boy was learning. "All right. What's the question."

Odessa asked, "Where do babies come from?"