(Author's note: This is my fill for the Dark Souls 3 chain I host over on the tumblr blog headcanontheshitoutofsoulsborne. I got the prompt "Siegward comes up with the Estus soup recipe". Please check out the completed chain there, because everyone made such a good job with their art and fics.)

"Hmmmmm Mhhhhmm Hmmm..."

Siegward was currently standing in front of a pot with a bubbling liquid inside, deep in thought. It wasn't a new sight for Yhorm, Siegward would always space out. The giant raised one of his giant fingers and gave Siegward a little nudge.

"Mmmmh.. Oho!", Siegward broke out of his stupor and looked up at Yhorm. "Forgive me, my friend. I have been in thought."

"What have you been thinking about?", Yhorm asked, lowering himself to his knees, which still made him tower over Siegward.

"About the taste of my soup, of course.", Siegward gestured to the bubbling pot in front of him. "I often cooked soups back at home, but in this land I am missing some spices and I can't think of any ingredients that could replace them. Or anything that would make it taste not bland."

"Why are you trying so hard to make a tasty meal anyway?", Yhorm asked. "You are a knight, you aren't expected to be a master chef."

"Maybe.", Siegward said, stirring the soup and tasting a sample, frowning and letting the ladle fall back into the pot. "However, no knight can fight on an empty stomach and at least I prefer for the meal to taste good. It is much more fun sharing a dish with others that will bring a smile on their faces. Besides, I am rather fond of good food myself."

Yhorm looked down at Siegward while he rambled on, the tiny human knight that had befriended him once he had came to the Profaned Capital, knowing that he simply was used for a task that the citizens couldn't do themselves. Yhorm had agreed to their terms, having nothing else left in his life, having expected that he would leave his life behind rather lonely, but a sunshine named Siegward had come in his life and made all the lonely days so far so much more bearable.

"Maybe if I... hmmmm...", Siegward fell back into deep thoughts and Yhorm slid his big body down until he was propped up on his elbows, legs crossed behind him, not caring that he took up a lot of space with his size, they were in a rather spacious field anyway, simply observing Siegward, who still hadn't found a solution.

It was one of his flaws and his charms. Siegward had trouble solving problems, often needing a nudge into the right direction. He was an excellent knight of Catarina, wearing the onion shaped armour with proud, but once he encountered a problem, he locked up and would do nothing until the solution presented itself to him. It was kind of endearing.

Yhorm knew that he just needed to nudge Siegward into the right direction, but he had to admit, he didn't know much about cooking and he couldn't just conjure up the spices that Siegward was missing. Maybe Siegward could use something as substitute or cook a different dish with ingredients that were available?

It hit Yhorm when his gaze wandered over Siegward once again and the peculiar shape of his armour.

"Siegward...", Yhorm said. "Have you tried out making onion soup?"

Siegward stared at Yhorm blankly and repeated: "Onions..." Then he looked down at himself and broke out into a hearty laugh. "Onions, of course. Yhorm, my friend, once again you helped me out where I myself have failed. There are plenty of onions in this country and I overlooked it even though my armour constantly gets ridiculed as being onion shaped. Me making onion soup, that might give the word onion knight a whole new meaning."

With brisk steps, Siegward left the scene and when he came back, he was carrying a bowl with onions and started to prepare them right away.

"You might want to stick something in your nose, my friend.", Siegward said. "Onions always burn in the eyes when prepared."

"I am good.", Yhorm said, as a giant he had a different face than humans, obscured by his hood, only two red glowing eyes could be seen. He also was far too large to be affected by some tiny onions. The only onion that could make him cry was Siegward and he always made him cry from laughing, not because he made Yhorm sad.

Siegward prepared the soup in a skillful manner and once it needed to boil, he turned around and started to hold small-talk with Yhorm. Nothing too special, they were just having a casual conversation, about what they experienced in the morning, about the new ale recipe that Siegward wanted to try out, about their feelings when they would get send into their next battles. The moments with Siegward were the most precious for Yhorm, because he didn't have to think about the time when the both of them had to part.

Once enough time had passed, Siegward hopped of the wall he had been sitting on and gave the soup one last stir. "Yhorm, my friend, do you bestow me the honour to be the first to taste?", he said and offered the ladle to Yhorm, which looked comically tiny in the large fingers of the giant once he took it.

For Yhorm the whole pot would have been one serving, but even though the amount in the ladle accounted to one drop, Siegward's cooking was so good that he didn't want to waste a single drop.

The taste was wonderful. Yhorm took his time to treasure the taste and once it had dissipated, he spoke: "This was wonderful, Siegward."

"I am glad to hear.", Siegward's smile split into a wide grin. "Let us share this meal together, Yhorm, my friend."

Siegward filled a bowl with the prepared soup, waiting until Yhorm had eased himself into a sitting position again and then sat down next to his ankle. Yhorm grabbed for the pot with the soup, while it would be enough to feed several people Siegward's size, for him it was just a single serving. He knew that Siegward had wanted to share the meal with him, or else he hadn't cooked on a bonfire in a field of grass where nobody else than the giant was around.

"I have to compliment myself, this soup is truly wonderful.", Siegward said once he had the first taste and Yhorm fondly looked down on the little onion knight before he put the pot on his lips and slowly drank the contents within, a warm feeling blooming in his chest, that wasn't coming from the hot soup, but from the realization that he had made a truly good and precious friend.

Once both Yhorm and Siegward had finished their servings, Siegward stood up and picked up his helmet.

"Well, my friend, it is time for us to return to our duties.", he said. "Will we see each other again tomorrow at the same time?"

"I will wait here for you, Siegward.", Yhorm said. "I will always wait for you."

Siegward, having picked up his weapon and his shield, looked up at Yhorm and said, his voice sounding metallic through his helmet: "I will make sure to bring more soup for us to share."

Having shared a meal with Yhorm had begun to feel like a distant memory. When Yhorm had been called to link the flame, something had gone terribly wrong and Siegward had been caught in the fire with everyone else in the Profaned Capital, but he apparently hadn't died.

Once the bells had tolled to bring the Lords of Cinders back to their throne, Yhorm hadn't been the only one awakening from his slumber. Siegward too had opened his eyes, climbing out of the ashes, in a body that felt strangely cold, as if anything had sucked all the heat out of the flames that once resided within it and only left ashes behind.

Siegward had found out soon enough that he was called an Unkindled, an Undead which didn't had the strength to link a flame on their own and burned to cinders. While Siegward hadn't linked the flame himself, he had been too close when Yhorm's linking had gotten out of control. Why he was the only one that got resurrected he couldn't explain though.

He only knew that Yhorm had wandered away. He wasn't interested letting himself sit back on this throne and he had stomped into the direction of the Profaned Capital, not taking notice of Siegward who had just then been reborn from the ashes.

Siegward knew that his old friend was waiting for him. Yhorm had gifted him something special, a weapon. A weapon that was strong enough to fell a giant.

Siegward knew that Yhorm had given it to him should the need arise to end his suffering.

"Yhorm, old friend.", Siegward muttered as he stirred a hot liquid steaming in a pot on a stove in front of him, a stove in an abandoned house, in a settlement that was crawling with hollows. "I will come for you, old friend. Hoping that you will share a meal with me, your dear onion knight, but should you not recognize me anymore... I will fulfil your wish... and end your suffering."

Siegward looked at the storm ruler that was leaned against the pot. He only would use this weapon as a last resort. His trusty Zweihander was more than enough for every other foe in his way. Though, Yhorm wasn't a foe, Yhorm would always be his precious friend.

"If only I could share the joy of having a least meal with you.", Siegward continued muttered to himself. "But it seems I have lost all taste."

As on cue, Siegward took the ladle to drink from the soup, putting it down with a sad glint in his eyes. Undead, Unkindled, whoever was cursed by the Dark Sign, they weren't alive anymore. As long as they had a purpose in their life, they would be reborn from the next bonfire. They didn't need to sleep (though it was easy for Siegward to still fall asleep, it always had been) and they didn't need to eat or drink anything anymore. Furthermore, since he had become Undead, Siegward had lost all his taste. The onion soup he had so often cooked for Yhorm and himself, it tasted like nothing more than water.

The only thing that Siegward could taste was the orange glowing liquid called Estus, that could heal every wound on his undead body in a flash. It's taste could only be described as molten fire. It warmed him from the inside, for just a brief moment before the coldness of the ashes took him again.

"I sadly don't know if my soup will be up to par.", Siegward said to himself as he stirred it, asking himself if his happy memories with Yhorm would once again become a reality, or if he had to use the storm ruler instead, which his gaze fixated on.

Lost in this thoughts as Siegward stared on the sword, he stopped stirring the bubbling liquid, not noticing when it started to boil over, a hot splash of liquid exploding from the pod and coating his uncovered hand and wrist, letting Siegward gasp out a surprised and pained cry.

At least his undead body had one advantage and that was that he could treat this burn easily with his Estus Flask, instead of having to cool it down first and then wrap it up and apply ointments on it until the skin would heal on its own. He fumbled for the emerald flask and his eyes went wide as it slipped through his fingers and fell right into the pot.

"Clumsy me!", Siegward exclaimed and then fell into a hearty chuckle, Yhorm would have lost it at this image. Siegward always had been a bit clumsy, but that was the first time a bottle fell into his soup, a bottle even with a liquid that wasn't even meant to be used as ingredient.

His chuckle quieted soon enough when the low rumbling laugh of his friend wasn't heard. Siegward missed him, terribly. He asked himself if Yhorm missed him as well.

"Look at me, old friend.", Siegward said, "I accidentally made soup out of Estus." He chuckled again, but only briefly. Instead of the Estus vanishing into the soup, the pot was a lot larger than the flask after all, the soup had started to take on an orange hue. How interesting. Siegward, forgetting about the pain from the burn, took the ladle and started stirring, fascinated as how the Estus merged with the soup and soon the whole room was filled with the orange glow, as if an bonfire had materialized on top of the stove.

Slowly, carefully, Siegward took a sip from the warm glowing liquid. It shot through his body, warming him from the inside and easing the pain in his burned hand, but most noticeable was the taste.

While it wasn't exactly what he remembered, the added Estus had given the soup some of its taste back. It was more than just liquid fire, Siegward could taste the onions and the spices of the soup, it was nothing more but a faint hint of the original taste of the soup, but for Siegward it felt like the tastiest meal he had eaten in years.

"My old friend.", Siegward said, "Maybe we still can share a meal together once I tracked you down. Maybe we can toast together like we did all these years ago."

Siegward fished the Estus flask out of the soup, cleaned it up and then put the leftover soup into it. "At least now I know that the taste of an Undead isn't a lost cause. I promise I will find you, Yhorm, and whatever will happen, the sun shall shine on this Lord of Cinder."

Once Siegward had made sure to quell the fire from the stove, packed the storm ruler and shouldered his Zweihander, he took a last look at the pot and smiled. If it was possible to make a soup that Undead could taste, maybe it was possible to make a drink for the Undead too.