Seeing as Hildegarde - the trollish (possibly actually a troll) woman who ran the kitchens of the Asgardian palace - had a deep and unceasing hatred for both of the princes, it had taken considerable pleading on Loki's part to be allowed to use the kitchen.
"But, lovely cook, please," he begged as she pointed at the door with her ladle (a tool that had sent Thor and Loki away from their unsuccessful attempts at pastry theft with bruised knuckles more than once).
"I won't have none of your pleas, Prince. Get out of my kitchen!"
"It is for a good cause!" He made his face as innocent as he was able, "My wife is ill and in desperate need of soup!"
"I'll send a lad up with a bowl of my famous Bilgesnipe Stew, it will heal the poor mite's sickness. Tell her to feel better soon," she swung the ladle inches from his nose and he stumbled back, unpleasant childhood memories roaring in his head, "Now get out."
"Hildegarde, please! It must be this recipe," Loki held up Maisy's phone, showing the list of ingredients, "She longs for a taste of Midgard and I fear she will not get any better if she cannot have it!"
"Alright," Hildegarde snatched the phone, read over the recipe and then handed the device back, "I'll make it. But if you are in my kitchen a moment longer I will see that the Allfather throws you back into your sparkly dungeon cell, got it?!"
"Of course, fine lady. You are truly the kindest of all of the creatures in this realm-"
"Stop flattering me before I cut off that famed silvertongue, boy! You know I keep my sheers sharp!"
Loki bolted from the room without another word. He'd seen her scissors in action before: Thor had lost a lot of hair over a loaf of bread a few decades ago.
Now that he had Hildegarde making the soup, Loki considered going back with two bowls of her soup and claiming he made one. Then Maisy truly would not be able to tell the difference and she'd forget the silly notion of things tasting better when made with love. He would have done that, but a small part of him was curious if it would actually work. It was ridiculous, of course, but just to be sure…
He got the attention of a passing kitchen lad and ordered him to get the ingredients for making the soup and take them to Frigga's laboratory. Obviously he wasn't going to be able to use the kitchen space, but surely a lab had all of the same equipment. In theory, potion making and soup making should not have been that different.
About an hour later, after finding out that cooking and potion making were not as similar as he'd thought, nearly setting the palace on fire, and discovering that one should never drop carrots in powdered phoenix feathers (his eyebrows would have to made of an illusion for the next while), Loki produced a soup that he was pleased with. At least, it was edible and it did not taste repugnant.
He swiped Hildegard's bowl of soup from the kitchen boy and made his way to his chambers. When he entered he found Maisy snoring loudly from within the thick shell of blankets. He supposed he should let her sleep since she needed the rest, but now he wanted to know if she could actually taste the difference. So, he set the soup down on the table and woke her up with a gentle shake. She snorted, sat up, and wiped the drool off of her face.
"What?" She said faintly.
"Hungry?" He gestured to the table.
"Oooh, soup!" She spent the next minute trying to unwrap herself from the blanket burrito she'd created and when she was free she shuffled over to the table and rolled up the sleeves of the shirt she'd borrowed.
Plopping down in a chair, she examined both bowls carefully before picking up the spoon. She sent a look to Loki and he crossed his arms, determined not to give anything away. She shrugged and sniffed the soup on the left and then on the right. She pulled the left one closer to her and dipped the spoon in. She blew on the hot liquid and then took a sip.
"Thoughts?" Loki asked.
"Please, hold all questions until the end of the experiment," Maisy said, taking another few sips of the bowl on the left. She then took a gulp of water and wiped the spoon off on a napkin. Turning to the bowl on the right, she took a spoonful and ate it. Smacking her lips thoughtfully, she took another few spoonfuls and then closed her eyes.
"You can't tell the difference can you?" Loki grinned.
"You made this one," she pointed to the bowl on the right with absolute certainty.
"How in the nine realms did you know that?!" Loki exclaimed, "What did I do to give it away?"
"You made it with love," Maisy grinned and contentedly continued to eat the soup he'd made, "I told you. I can tell."
"Oh no, no! That was a fifty-fifty guess. There is no proof that you can actual tell which one I made!"
"You wanna bet?" Maisy said, "Do the same thing for dinner. I'll be able to tell again. Make any dish you like and I'll be able to tell which one you made. I guarantee."
"I've spent enough time cooking for one century, thank you," Loki muttered, sitting down across from her, "They don't really taste different, do they? I sampled them both myself and I could not tell them apart."
"Maybe because you were thinking of me when you made it and not how much you adore yourself," Maisy shrugged and then slurped up a noodle, "You did a really good job, by the way. Almost as good as my dad makes it."
"I still don't believe it," Loki said.
"When I'm feeling better I'll try it on you," she said, "I'll make you some cookies or something."
"I think not," Loki said, "Based off of what I've seen from your potion making and what Egil told me, I should not trust you with anything in the kitchen."
"Egil's a stupid head," Maisy replied, waving the issue away, "I make fantastic cookies."
They talked about cooking for a while longer before Maisy almost fell asleep in her soup and Loki made her go back to sleep on the bed. She grinned the whole while and the smile even stayed in place while she slept. Loki shook his head at her and went back to the soups. He tried them both again, but still could not taste the difference.
"Absurd Midgardian notions," he muttered and glanced at Maisy to make sure he hadn't woken her. He brushed some hair from her sleeping face and smiled a little, "Absurd Midgardian sicknesses," he kissed her cheek before lying down next to her and drawing the giant blanket burrito to him, "Absurd Midgardians."
A note from the author: Loki probably should not cook in the lab where there are volatile ingredients like powdered phoenix feathers lying around. Loki probably should not cook in general, but he did pretty well this time (even if he probably made a huge mess doing so).
Thanks so much for reading! :D
Special thanks to my reviewers:
ferbette: Loki probably made about fifteen failed soups before getting it just right. He wouldn't quit until it was absolutely perfect.
yellowroseofthenw: Hope you enjoyed Loki's cooking attempt. XD
You guys are the best! :)