By the Bonfire: To talk over a cutting board
He glanced at the trio, then returned to his task without much delay.
Seconds passed as neither of them said anything to him, merely stared expectantly, and eventually he closed his eyes and clicked his tongue. Bringing his head about to face the three of them and raising a brow, eyes moving from one onto the other.
His hands paused in their work of peeling potatoes, though he kept the knife at the ready for when he could resume at a moment's notice. He was still far from pleased at the products of his work and, if he was to be perfectly honest with himself, even he could tell that it was only going to inspire scorn from his 'Sensei' as she called herself.
With a sigh, Ash pulled his feet forwards and came to a halt in front of the group, still holding the potato and the knife in his grasp.
"Is there something that you all need of me?"
Mozart was the first to speak up, the man offered him an apologetic look and a shrug of the shoulders, it looked more as though he had been dragged along by the pair of women and, knowing how weak Mozart was to the pleas of Marie, it would have been barely an argument with him, despite his own misgivings on whatever this was.
"Ash." Nero's hands came onto the counter with a loud slap, he glanced at the metal and observed that it had fortunately remained undamaged. "We need your assistance on a matter of utmost importance. The type that could change the very future of Chaldea itself! Umu!"
He doubted that very much.
Mozart looked at him, turned his head away and then snorted into his hand, clearly amused by the expression that he made in response to the rant.
"I have only a few minutes, at most, before Cat-sensei returns and finds me holding potatoes as opposed to peeling them. Make this brief."
Nero opened her mouth then closed it again, a pout crossed her lips as she drew her arms back. "You do not appear to be as alarmed by this news than I would have liked. Or are you comforted with the knowledge that I am on the case, thus there is no need to be alarmed? Umu! Your confidence in my abilities is truly wondrous, you need not say anything more…but you are cordially invited to praise me more."
He hadn't even praised her once.
Slowly, his eyes shifted their focus and onto the other whom he hoped would elucidate him as to what was actually going on.
Marie Antionette gave him an equally welcoming smile, stepping forwards and gesturing to Nero. "What she means is that there's a favour we'd like to ask of you, because coming from any of us, I don't think that it would really land with the person we want to speak with…and I get the feeling she would be more inclined to listen to you about it."
"I should like to point out that neither of them have actually let me speak to them yet."
His eyes flicked onto Mozart, noticing immediately the way Marie's expression turned incredulous, turning on the man and staring at them with a look as though they'd said the stupidest thing in the world.
"Letting you conduct negotiations would be a rather terrible idea, especially given how you get around women. Your crass jokes would only torpedo our chances."
Yes, this was almost certainly going to be a headache for him.
But he lingered around for Marie to turn back around to face him.
Clearing his throat, he spoke up. "I assume one of you will eventually ask me what it is you actually want."
"Ah, Umu! Quite right, to get to the heart of the matter." Nero pressed forwards, locking eyes with him and narrowing her gaze. "I would like for you to convince Pale Rose to form the Swimsuit Swashbucklers again."
…
"I don't believe I could convince her of that." He didn't even hesitate with his denial, earning a sputter of shock from the Emperor as he turned from her, moving back towards the cutting board and preparing to peel the potatoes once more.
"Well, we tried Maria. Good job team, I'm going to-"
"Oh no you don't!"
He heard the scuffle, turning his eyes to see Marie prevent the escape of Mozart but grabbing them by the back of the shirt and dragging them backwards, flipping them around and dumping them into one of the seats at the counter, the Rider stared at the Caster for a few seconds longer, then switched her gaze onto him with one of confusion.
"But you haven't even tried yet, how can you be sure she'd say no?"
Ash raised a brow at her. "Have you asked her yet?"
The silence he got from them was telling.
"I need no clairvoyance to tell me that asking Olga to return to her career as an idol would earn no small amount of frustrated embarrassment from her."
He sighed, shaking his head and bringing his attention back to the potatoes. "Regardless of what you or I want, it seems as though Olga will most certainly abandon that side of her forever and barring any unforeseen circumstances, we will not have another rendition…which might be considered fortunate, as it would have made her a target of Bathroy."
Pulling his lips into a grimace, he continued on. "And given who that woman is famous for when she is jealous of women…"
"You know what? He's right." Mozart supported him. "She's dangerous enough when she's trying to entertain you, I'd dread to see what she would do to a rival. Still, if you really want to be an idol, Maria, you can always strike it out on your own."
"This isn't about being an idol." Marie exhaled.
Ash turned his head ever so slightly, his eyes sought out the group and narrowed.
It wasn't about being an idol?
…Ah, he understood now.
"Even if it would make her happy, it is something she cannot truly do at the moment, even if she were so inclined. We all know what Olga is like in regards to her work."
But then again…
…What did he want?
Ash's expression tightened as he mulled it over in his head, there would be no real harm in asking if she would be willing to give it another go. If only because he had missed it the first time around, but if it made her uncomfortable then that would only make him feel like garbage.
Setting that aside, he turned to Nero and raised a brow. "And why are you interested in it?"
Nero looked at him as though he was insane. "Did your eyes not work? Did you not see the way Pale Rose shone in the light of my luminous beauty? How her voice echoed in chorus with my own? It is a travesty that she does not serve in the theatre arts alongside me. Being the supporting singer to an Emperor is truly the greatest gift one can receive."
Turning her head, the blonde closed her eyes and placed the tips of her fingers against her forehead, flicking her hair back and smiling in a rather smug way. "Umu! Truly, it is the responsibility of an Emperor to bring forth beauty in all things. Such as if dear Cecilia ever joins us-"
She stopped talking, he was thankful until he realised where her eyes were pointed.
His own gaze shifted downwards, his features flattened as he stared at the mangled remains of the potato that he had just crushed in his grip.
Opening his fish, the mashed up chunks dropped onto the board.
Mashed potato…
…Hmmm.
Perhaps this was salvageable.
Setting the knife down on the side, he glanced at the already pre-peeled potatoes he had done before glancing down to the smear he had made with his fist. A nod of the head later, he was pulling the bowl of potatoes in front of him and bringing a clenched fist above them.
"I will see what I can do for Olga, but I make no promises and I would urge you to explore other avenues of theatre…Though I feel inclined to ask, was this in regards to the venture you came to discuss some time ago?"
"You remember that?" Marie sounded surprised.
Ash paused before he swung his arm down, shooting a side-eye at the french monarch. "I remember everything."
The words hung in the air for a few moments, then the silence that settled was far from comfortable. It was his own error, his ominous phrasing had clearly caused some small measure of upset.
"I recall voicing my opposition as well." He continued on, placing his hands flat against either side of the bowl and staring down at the potatoes for a good couple of seconds. His head turned, his eyes came to bear on the group and he offered them what he hoped was something of a comforting smile.
It was easy, practice at offering such false smiles afforded him the ease of making one on demand.
"You may consider the opposition rescinded."
Nero was the first to react to the news, beaming widely and nodding her head up and down. "Umu! I knew that you would eventually come around to see my way of things on the matter! What is more, with the talk of the father of the fortune Goddess walking the halls now, it seems as though we can finally account for Pharros temporary…incapacitation."
The Caster was being watched for the time being after the passive encounter with Hanleth, though special dispensation was offered on account of them being tricked into offering help through false pretences.
Ash suspected it was just as much Olga looking for someone to vent at, in regards to outing as an idol and none of the actual ringleaders being present.
He paused, something tickled his senses from across the facility, the familiar hum of divinity echoed through the building all around him. Invisible to those but he was aware of it the moment that it arrived, one that was rather familiar to him.
So they have arrived as well now? Unsurprising, he knew of their past and knew they would not have allowed him to roam free for long.
…He supposed all he could do now was wait for them to appear.
His eyes turned back to the potatoes and he brought his fist up.
"Did punching it work?"
"Not as well as I would have imagined." He responded with a furrowed brow, leaning back to examine the mess that he had made earlier, bringing up a hand and rubbing away at his chin thoughtfully. It was not going according to plan, but he was making progress, it was a meal he recalled from his youth.
…Or he hoped it was his youth, it was a memory which clung to him so it was probably one of his.
"I see. I was under the impression they used tools for grinding up starch."
Ash paused, then turned his head to the speaker and raised a brow, though it was directed to himself rather than her. "I believe you are probably correct. It merely escaped me in the moment, I crushed one potato and then saw the opportunity to crush more…it was strangely calming."
He saw a faint twitch from Altera. "I do not recall the process of cooking being violent. But I have never cooked before. So I do not know if that is correct or not…But I do not believe that it should be considered similar to battle. Unless it is hunting, then it is."
That seemed like a fair assessment, and he was not exactly hunting potatoes.
"It was an indulgence and it has cost me, it seems." He muttered to himself, placing his hands on his hips and frowning rather deeply for a second or two, then his face reverted. "Not that it will change much, the lumps will be ground into finer pieces if I continue on my current course of action."
Altera nodded her head. "That is true."
Then she paused, lips twitching down for a moment as her body leaned forwards. "Will you continue to attack it with your hands?"
"...I will search for some manner of tool to make this job easier. If I continue to strike the potatoes, I am concerned I will destroy parts of the kitchen. That would be unacceptable."
"Hmmm. Kitchens are used to provide food to the hungry, harming them would be bad civilization."
"Very." He replied quickly, briefly stepping away from the side and towards the direction of the Saber, glancing from her and to the one by her side. An odd combination to see the two of them together, yet it was not something which brought any manner of response from him. "If you are here for food, I am afraid only Siegward knows the recipes for Estus soup and he is currently re-occupied with…"
A loud snore came from across the room.
"...resting."
He swivelled an eye into the direction of the sleeping man, propped up against the wall with a flannel covering his face, arms folded over his chest. The loud snores displacing the flannel up and down with each intake of breath.
Altera turned to him, "Is it not normal to do that in one's own chambers?"
"Siegward sleeps where he likes."
"I see."
Beatrice watched him for a few moments longer, then turned to him and flashed an understanding smile. "That's alright, I'm not feeling all that hungry anyway…or ever, actually. I'm undead, same as you and now I'm blithering on because I'm running out of things to say-"
"Keep sentences concise and meaningful." Altera interrupted her with a side-eye. "It makes them simpler to understand."
"Right, of course, thank you…" Clearing her throat, the Caster reached up and adjusted the brim of her wide hat. "But we're just taking a short break as I think over some things…it was mostly to do with the magecraft that humans have here. A bit different to sorcery but still quite interesting."
That depended on the definition, he supposed, but he was aware of what the scholars would find intriguing about it. Beatrice was one such scholar, even if she was not wholly aware of it. Or accepting of the title.
"How have your efforts with examining magecraft been going then?"
He asked instead, idly curious as to whether Altera or Beatrice had been able to find anything of value. At the rate Olga had been speaking of their two systems, her frequent remarks about the 'Age of Gods' made it sound as though their own sorcery was better on the whole.
Not that he cared for such things, his knowledge of magecraft showed that it was more varied.
But, then again, so could miracles and pyromancies.
Beatrice perked up while Altera remained stone faced, not that he expected a reaction from her in the first place.
"It is actually quite interesting. All this Formal craft stuff led me to speaking with this one human in the base who had some experience in it." She leaned forwards, resting her arms on the counter. "He agreed to show me some basic little pointers if I could get some materials on the Rayshift missions in case we encounter some wyverns. He asked for some scales or organs…maybe one of the other creatures as well."
Bargaining for teaching?
An equivalent exchange, he supposed, doing something for something.
"I can acquire these items with ease." Altera declared, as though there was any unspoken doubt that she needed to banish away.
Regarding her with a brief look, he turned his eyes back onto Beatrice. "And what is it that you intend to do with this magecraft once you have learned it?"
The witch paused for a moment, then flushed rather lightly and offered a faint shrug. "W-well, I was just learning it because it was there. I didn't really have a reason not to and I wanted to compare it…it's the sort of thing that I'm a little jealous of not knowing, at least when I was alive."
If she said so.
"I was curious if Beatrice could make it into something worthwhile." Altera commented. "Its descriptions have made it sound lacklustre."
She just wanted to see if it could be turned impressive.
Altera's natural curiosity was somewhat envious, she didn't appear to have the same restrictions upon her that he had on him.
Outwardly, he hummed and nodded his head up and down, sorting through the draws until he pulled forth one of the items he had been told of and had seen through many different eyes.
A hilt with a meshed head of folded steel bars, perfect for grinding up the potatoes more thoroughly.
"Do you intend to do something else with this knowledge?"
Beatrice tapped her fingers on the counter, then grunted and shrugged. "I'm not sure, when I leave this place I'll…probably forget everything I ever learned, so I might make a little record of all my little spells and notes." A brief pause followed, then a smile blossomed across her face. "That is what I will do! I'll make a little research journal that details everything, I can leave that here, right?"
He wouldn't know.
But he didn't see why she would be unable to.
"If you must."
Altera kept silent, her eyes blinked from Beatrice and back onto him. "Would you make a book?"
Ash paused, his brows furrowed, turning his head onto the tanned woman and lowering his arms to his side. "A book on what?"
"...Cooking."
"...I do not believe it would be worth writing a book on that manner of topic, even if I were capable of reading and writing." His comment earned a grunt of understanding from Altera, she brought her focus away from him and back onto the counter. "I suspect if you asked Siegward that question, he would respond with a more positive answer. It might be worth asking him, so that the recipes of Catarina are not lost when he is desummoned."
It was worth remembering them, if only in part.
He was sure that it was something that Siegward would leap at the chance of doing, he was rather puzzled that he hadn't done it now.
…Actually, that was rather an odd thing.
"You have caused me to have some curious thoughts on this subject." He spoke aloud, turning his head back towards the bowl and looming over it, bringing up the masher and pressing down into the vegetables, crushing them up into finer pieces. "There are a great many cooks in Chaldea, but they have made little effort to ensure their teachings remain after they are gone."
Altera grunted. "Is that so? I understood it that humans made records of subjects that held value to them. This is…confusing, does this not imply that the works of the Chaldean chefs are not worth preserving?"
All he could do was shrug his shoulders.
It was worth asking about it.
"Morning, Ash."
He glanced across to the speaker, watching as Boudica entered the kitchens with a smile aimed in his direction.
A swift grunt was his response as he resumed his work.
"...How are you feeling?"
"I am not suffering from any lingering effects of the Singularity, if that is what troubles you."
He felt the stare of Boudica on the side of his head, after a few moments of silence from the Rider, he was able to deduce the nature of her question. With a short sigh, he turned himself about to face her and levelled his features. "I understand the intention and I approve of it. You made an effort to ensure that Gawyn was…more than just the tool of Gwynevere. If I had the same chance, I would have done the same."
Boudica grimaced slightly, her hands moved across and rubbed at her wrists. "That might be so but…it was done without your permission. Pushing the matter was-"
"It was an opportunity and…" Ash lowered his gaze, there was simply more to it than that.
"And I would find myself more aggrieved if Ritsuka had opted to tear down everything related to the Singularity for the simple fact that I had been returned to a state I hold no affection for."
Really, it was as much as he deserved.
It was strangely comforting in a way, that he had finally received some measure of punishment for his actions. It was why he had made no effort to combat the influence of Hanleth from within his mind, even if there was a chance he could have broken it.
"You do not need to be so concerned about my feelings on the matter." He continued on with a shake of the head, meeting the troubled eyes of Boudica once more. "I hold no grudge over what was done and if it was between the comfort of the Servants in the Singularity and my own personal discomfort. Then he made the right logical choice."
Boudica grimaced. "Whether you believe that or not…Ash, what I'm telling you is that it is alright for you to be upset about what happened."
Upset about it?
He barely even thought about it.
No, that wasn't quite right, he did think of it but it was mostly limited towards the fact that it further compounded the proof of concept that Jeanne Alter had given him.
It was possible for him to change.
That…it made the process more bearable.
If it took being turned into Gawyn to figure it all out, then that was fine with him.
"I'm…relieved, in a small way. Towards the end, Gawyn was acting for what he wanted rather than what he was commanded to do. That was…acceptable. I still hold no affection for him or what he was in life…but this and that are two different things."
The Rider said nothing, still looking on as though she wasn't wholly convinced.
Her guilt was misplaced, even if he was more offended by what had happened, then it was a well deserved punishment against him in place of the fact Ritsuka hadn't done anything to him.
Though there was something else.
"Have you ever considered making a cookbook?"
Boudica's expression flipped, the sudden switch of the topic clearly caught her off guard, he missed the rest of her expression as he turned back around and picked up his knife with his sword arm and went to work.
"A cookbook?"
He heard the surprise in the voice of Boudica as he brought the knife onto the meat, cutting away at the lumps of fat around it with. Rather tough, he supposed it might have been better if he used something like beef rather than wyvern, but given that he was the one who was going to eat this, it didn't seem like it would be worth using good quality produce on him.
"It was something that occurred to me as I spoke with Altera earlier." He peeled the fat from the meat and dumped it in the small bowl, already growing quite a large supply of it. He wasn't sure what else they could do with it though. "Humans make books about cooking and it became clear that we have a number of experienced cooks in Chaldea…so I was curious as to why no one had made an effort to keep a record of all these recipes."
Pausing in his work, his lips thinned and he turned to Boudica.
"For those like myself, there are few things worse than the loss of a memory. Most strive to ensure they leave something behind for future generations…whether it is good or bad is something else entirely but it remains."
She stared at him with raised brows. "That seemed a touch more profound than your usual comments."
He blinked at her observation, then reviewed his words and found himself nodding. "I suppose it does? I wouldn't know."
The woman shook her head from side to side as she worked away on her own food. "I wasn't saying that it was a bad thing, you've made a good point. People do go out of their way to leave a legacy behind…there are worse things we can do that drum up a cookbook."
She smiled in his direction "And it would certainly be something to leave behind. I can quite imagine it…" with a chuckle, she brought up her hand and swept it to the side, as if dragging something through the air. "The guide to making the perfect hamburger, by Arthur Pendragon."
Her voice shifted and turned more grandiose, by the time she was finished, Boudica sounded to be on the cusp of wheezing.
Ash kept his face still.
Just staring at the back of her head as she brought herself back around to face him. "But I think it sounds like a wonderful idea, Ash. I know that Siegward will be rather excited to write down all the recipes he's saved up over the years…He's always talking about the adventures he went on to collect them."
He met her gaze and nodded, as he suspected.
Though something else caught his focus.
…He didn't know that about Siegward.
He knew bits and pieces but he had…never really sat down and talked with the man. Not truly, it was rather jarring to hear Boudica speak of them with such familiarity. Something that he lacked entirely.
It would not surprise him if the Rider knew Siegward better than he did.
On the outside, he rolled his jaw and hummed. "You sound approving of the idea as well."
A blink from the Rider, her free hand came away from the pot and scratched at the side of her cheek, "Do I? Well…I can't say that I'd be all that much of a master chef when compared to some of the others in Chaldea at the moment…but it does seem like a sort of harmless little activity. Maybe something for some of the beginners to try. Simple recipes you can make quickly rather than complicated dishes."
Yes, he could see the value in that.
He was sure that Ritsuka would see the value of it as well.
"What about you? Any idea what sort of recipe you would offer?"
Ash blinked at the question, then blinked again when he realised it was being addressed towards himself. A frown creased his lips, then he shook his head from side to side. "It was something I suggested for others, my achievements in cooking have been limited to a fire and nothing else."
Waving a hand to his current product, he continued onwards. "Sensei only agreed to this because it was something simple and she claimed she was feeling in a charitable mood…"
Excluding the comment she had made, purely to herself, about how it should be impossible for anyone to destroy something as simple as mashed potatoes and that as long as there was another person in the kitchen, he shouldn't be able to set anything on fire.
Boudica frowned, looking as though she wanted to say something-
"What's this I hear about a book writing-wan?"
An orange blur vaulted over the counter and into the kitchen, furred paws found their way onto his shoulders and a head loomed over him, casting a scrutinous gaze onto his work.
With a faint sigh, Ash brought his free hand up and pushed the head away from him, separating himself from the newly arrived Servant. He supposed it would have been time for her to show up anyway.
"Cat-sensei." He greeted her with a cordial nod of the head, "I was suggesting that the experienced chefs in Chaldea make a coordinated effort to craft a recipe book for their favourite creations."
The expression the Berserker made was a rather unique one, shifting from surprise, then to intrigue before it finally settled on something that radiated pride. "Oya? Oya, oya?"
Why was she making those noises?
The ears atop her head twitched back and forth, her lips spread into a smile and her hands came to a rest on her hips. The gleam in the bright amber orbs was rather reflective, then the Servant made a pleased sound as she nodded her head up and down, pulling a hand out and placing a paw atop his head, rubbing it back and forth.
"A rather excellent idea, which only goes to show my skill is a sensei."
She had nothing to do with the concept of the idea in the least.
With a flat look, he pushed her hand off his head and exhaled. "Shall I assume then, Cat-sensei, that you would be interested in such a venture?"
"Of course I would be-wan!" She exclaimed in his face, whipping around and moving further into the kitchens, striding forth and radiating arrogance fit for a king. Or the Goddess she was descended from, whichever the two came first. "By claiming the top spot in a cook-book like this, I can show everyone that I have the best energy to be a maid-wife!"
He and Boudica spared a glance at one another, then back to the Berserker who seemed to live in her own painted world.
"I can't wait to show those other tails that I have my name in an actual cookbook alongside some of the greatest in history. It would surely make them weep and cry, ultimately begging for me to put an end to their embarrassment-wan!"
Boudica leaned towards him. "I don't think she understands the purpose of this in the first place."
He whispered back. "I don't think she cares."
Spinning around, the Berserker pointed a clawed paw in his direction, smiling broadly with a sharp toothed grin. "Alright then, we're going to make it the most purrfect book that will ever be seen. The type of book that Goushujin-sama will treasure for the rest of their days."
A beat.
Placing a hand on her chest, a smug grin spread over the face of the cat.
"Naturally I will be there at their side for those days, serving as a faithful cat-maid-slash-wife, but that should go without saying-wan."
If she continued to talk like this, then he didn't think it would be long until the likes of Kiyohime ended up appearing. Any mention of someone being a spouse to Ritsuka was bound to call her forth akin to a summoning stone.
He turned back to his food-
"And what the heck are you doing anywan?"
He blinked, then glanced and registered the fact she was right next to him, her eyes squinted rather tight to the point he could barely make out her pupils, her large hands gripping his own and slowly pulling his knife away from the carved piece of meat.
"...I'm cutting the meat?"
"Cutting it up like you're Jack the Ripper in Whitechapel is what you're doing."
The comparison made him come up short, unable to really form an answer to that. If only because the actual statement was so outrageous, something that was clearly felt by Boudica if the sudden coughing fit by the Rider in the background was any indication.
"Excuse me?"
She ignored his tone, instead she pointed at the cut off sections he'd been using. "Look at these! What sort of knife did you even use? They're cut up all unevenly, some of them look more like triangles-wan! And don't get me started on your efforts to remove the fat from the joint, did you just grab it with your fingers and rip it off?"
It only seemed to get worse when she found the mashed potatoes.
…Apparently you needed to do more than mash the potatoes.
He did not know that.
It seemed as though mashed potatoes were more complicated than he expected, and his support from Boudica was limited to 'Cut him some slack, it's his first time.'
Though he wasn't sure what was worth laughing about.
He kept his expression blank through the sputtering chuckles from Nobunaga, the Archer thumping her fist against the countertop, dropping her head onto it and continuing her wheezing.
Ash kept silent as he stared at her, turning his eyes from the woman and off into the distance, her chuckles had since attracted more than a few eyes in their general direction but they were short lived glances, none came over to see what the matter was and clearly had far more interesting things to worry about.
"Y-y-y-you just-you just crushed up potatoes an-and said 'It's mashed now' and thought that wa-pfffthahahahaha!"
The table battery resumed, at this point he was starting to become concerned that she would eventually cause some manner of damage to the side. Though Nobunaga was smart enough to hold her strength back, giving one final wheeze as she pulled her head up, revealing the tears which had already started streaming down her face.
"It is called mashed potatoes." Folding his arms, he felt a flicker of annoyance burn within him coupled with shame for making such a blunder. "One would have assumed that it was merely potatoes that had been mashed up."
Another snort escaped the Archer, she wiped her eyes clean and exhaled.
"Y-yeah, they're mashed." She paused, Nobunaga squinted at him with her lips twitching upwards, already threatening to burst into another fit of cackles. "D-did you think people just ground up potato and ate it raw?"
He wasn't going to answer that question, he had a feeling that if he did, it would only end up looking worse for him.
Clearly his lack of an answer was an answer unto itself, a fresh stream of laughter poured out from the Archer as she dropped her head into her hands, another chorus of mirth echoing out from her.
"It was hardly as though I could check how the potatoes are made."
Her laughter faded away at his defence, her head came up and she cracked a raised eyebrow at him. "You didn't think to ask?"
A flat stare was levelled at her. "...Why would I ask for how to make something that I assumed I knew how to make?"
Nobunaga opened her mouth, raising a single finger.
She paused, the finger lowered and her mouth closed as her brows furrowed.
With a hum of acknowledgement, she conceded to his point.
Not that it was a point he was proud of, because apparently he didn't know how to make mashed potatoes and had apparently butchered potatoes for nothing. Something that Cat-Sensei was rather displeased about.
With a sigh, the Archer rubbed her fingers over her temple. "Right, look…no one is expecting you to take off the ground running like this. The only thing that you've thus far cooked successfully in your life are living things. And you know they're ready when they stop moving and screaming."
She made it sound horrific.
She was also quite correct.
"It is…more complicated than I had previously imagined, yes." His reply was slow, his eyes turned downcast onto the side while his arms remained folded. "Though I am intending to persevere through this…though I had hoped that the likes of potatoes would have been easy. I am aiming for foods that can be made in simple conditions, like being away on rayshifts."
Nobunaga made a noise. "Yeah, I didn't think you were cooking for yourself. You had to be dragged to that damn Christmas table and then all but force the food down your throat."
"An exaggeration."
"No it isn't. Without someone pulling your ear, you'd have stood with the literal living suit of armour and just stared at us while we ate."
…He probably would have.
Shaking his head, Ash shifted the focus of the conversation. "This is not the point. Merely that cooking is a challenge I am not accustomed to dealing with, but I will approach it in the same way I do with all others…but I am unsure if that would be wise."
Red eyes squinted slightly, the Archer leaned forwards. "What are you talking about now?"
"...Chaldea's supplies are not so bountiful that I can afford this tactic of trial and error so commonly. My mistakes here have greater consequences and my lack of talent has already resulted in the loss of vital ingredients. They will need to be resupplied in the future because of this."
His arms uncrossed, his hands fell onto the counter and he placed his weight onto them, hanging his head low. "It might be that, as with sorcery, I do not have the affinity for this particular act."
"When the hell did I allow myself to be seen with such a defeatist?"
It was the only warning he got before he registered an impact on the side of his head, blinking, he brought his gaze up and furrowed his brows at the Archer as she shook her hand from side to side, wincing ever so slightly and staring at her palm.
She recovered and focused her eyes upon him. "No battle is ever won without costs. You win some and you lose some, but you keep on trying. You want to make some food? Then you get back in that kitchen. Even if it takes you a hundred failures, you'll get those mashed potatoes right! Or are you so weak of heart that you'll be defeated by vegetables?"
His lips thinned. "...No. I'm not."
"Damn right you're not. You're the retainer of the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven!" Her finger thumped into his forehead, she twisted it from side to side as though trying to drill into his skull. "Get this through that absurding thick head of yours, anyone who has a dream they want to achieve shouldn't stop trying to do it for anything and anyone."
Pulling her hand away, she sternly folded them over her chest as she sat up straight.
"In the span of time of this immense universe, a single human life is like that of a single blink. So why would you waste so much time fretting over whether you should try and achieve something? Try. Fail. Try again. Until that blink is over, never stop trying to achieve those goals of yours."
Silence stretched between the two of them.
Then the Archer spoke again, a wide smile splitting her face. "Damn, that was a good speech, if I do say so myself. You feeling motivated?"
"...It was convincing."
"Better have been. I'd have tried to hit you again if you said no after all that." She paused, then shook her hand once more and shot him a pout. "And I really don't want to hit your head again, I mean what is it actually made of. I would really like to know because there's definitely castle walls who're jealous of you."
He didn't think his head was actually that thick in the first place.
At least, he'd thought it no thicker than any other head.
But maybe taking so many blows to the skull before had hardened it? Certainly a possibility.
"Anyway, if you were looking for hobbies in the first place, you should have come to me." Nobunaga changed topics, the pout on her face deepened. "I'd have shown you all the things that could be done. Like making that crossbow grenade launcher of, you know, tea ceremonies. I actually have something of a talent for those."
He squinted.
"Why would I want to learn about a tea ceremony?"
The Archer furrowed her brows. "Why would you want to learn a traditional Japanese tea ceremony for your Japanese Master?"
…Ah.
Yes.
"...I believe I see your point now."
It would be more for the benefit of Ritsuka, and he didn't have a reason not to do it.
No, that wasn't entirely true.
There were reasons not to do it, he just elected to ignore those reasons. Going through the effort of doing something that would not benefit him in any strategic way, this would be purely for decoration or festival.
That, and it was something from Ritsuka's own homeland.
"I will elect to seek you out once I have mastered the art of making mashed potatoes."
A single nod from Nobunaga was the response, the pout shifted into a smug grin. "Good. See that you do."
A couple seconds passed.
"Now then, what's this I hear about a cookbook?"
"It is a book on cookery and baking. I would assume that deserts would be a natural inclusion to them."
"But it needs to have the largest section."
His eyes closed, his head hung itself low. "I am not the one writing the book in the first place. I have no power over what is or is not being included in its pages."
"Why not?" The speaker's frown was rather palpable, his head came up and his expression turned flat. Mainly because the alternative was an annoyed scowl and he was trying his best to maintain some semblance of professionalism when around her.
Ever since they all came back, she had been unusually eager to go near him.
No, it wasn't that it was unusual.
It was just annoying.
Caffrey's eyes lingered on him for a moment more, then she pressed a finger down into the table and pushed herself up. "This is something that will be the legacy of not just Heroic Spirits, but also that of Heide itself. It needs to have the biggest selection to reflect the baked supremacy of that kingdom."
He cocked a brow. "If you're so determined to have the recipes included, then why not just write them down and submit them yourself?"
Caffrey's face blanked, for all of half a second.
Her eyes darted away from him, her cheeks turned bright red and her next words came out as something more of an abashed sputter. "W-well, that isn't the whole purpose of a princess, right? You're the one who wants to try and learn how to bake s-so I determined that it would be more appropriate for you!"
Finding confidence in her answer, she turned to him and beamed. "So that means that I, as the elder sister, will do my utmost to support my little brother's dreams and ensure that you become a fine creator of baked goods! Which means that I am entrusting you with my hopes and dreams for the confectionary section of this culinary journal!"
He figured that he would be approached by more divines when his heritage was outed, but he didn't think they would be as forward as this. At least Gwyndolin had yet to jump him, they didn't seem to hate him any less than they did before.
Or if they didn't, Ash failed to notice.
"I believe that I can manage without your support."
Caffrey's features turned flat.
"Is this before or after you serve up another dish of smashed up raw potatoes as food?"
Ash froze. "Who told you about that?"
"Everyone knows. They could hear the cat woman shouting about it up and down the halls." Leaning forwards, Caffrey glanced left and right before inclining her head towards him, raising a brow and flicking an eye up and down. "I could give you a little blessing to make you more lucky when it comes to food…and then naturally you could show your appreciation through some small tribute."
Was she supposed to be this painfully obvious?
He wasn't sure if it was just pathetic or insulting.
"You just want me to make you baked confectionery."
"...No." A reply after a few seconds, then she added on. "I want you to realise that you want to make me baked confectionery."
Caffrey exhaled. "Besides, I'm sure that mother would appreciate it."
Ash froze once more.
His body straightened out, his expression lost any trace of emotion.
Keeping his feelings bottled up proved a challenge, so he settled for giving his…older sister…a long and unbroken stare.
"...I am not taking up cooking just so I can present my creations to Mother." He kept his voice clipped.
Caffrey frowned, then opened her mouth to speak again-
"Daughter."
A tired voice broke her words, she flinched and turned her gaze with Ash's soon followed.
Flann approached the pair of them, only briefly turning his eyes onto him before they locked onto his daughter once more. "Your relations with him do not give you the right to demand tribute. It must be earned if it is to have any value to it, besides, it would be clear that his efforts would be somewhat troubled with his undead nature."
The God waved a hand. "Not to mention that I will not permit you to spend your hours gorging on such sugary foods, I will not preside over you becoming like your older sister."
Visions of a den of old bottles and empty crisp packets flickered through Ash's mind.
…It was rather hilarious to think of a God living in such squalor by choice.
"I wouldn't!" Caffrey hastily replied back, somewhat indignantly. "I'm just encouraging his hobby and giving him some advice on what brand of foods he should begin making in the future that would be more popular with the denizens of Chaldea." a beat, she pressed a hand over her chest. "And that I, as his big sister, would be there to bless his creations and give them my wholehearted praise."
Flann looked far from convinced. "Which would naturally come at the small price of you being allowed first choice for the best of his creations?"
"Natur-...I mean….uhm…No?"
"..."
Caffrey leaned backwards, then turned to him and dropped her voice into a whisper. "We'll discuss it later."
And then she took off with a beat of her wings, shooting past Flann and right out of the doors of the cafeteria.
The red haired God closed his eyes and dropped his head, bringing a hand up to cover his face. "That girl…"
Ash kept himself quiet, even as Flann removed his hand and turned to him with a slightly furrowed brow.
"...Whatever problems you have with Gwynevere. They do not transfer to Caffrey. Do you understand?"
His eyes narrowed back at the fire God, saying nothing to them.
With a grunt, Flann turned from him and walked off without another word.
Ash exhaled, turning his head and lowering it down once more.
Kitchens were complicated places, it seemed.
Seconds ticked past.
"...How long are you going to watch me?"
A rattle of metal, the clank of armoured steps as the air before him shimmered with golden light.
"Do you dare presume you could summon me so simply, Beast?"
Ash raised his eyes, staring at the blonde man with a flat look. Then pointedly looked them up and down.
Ruby red eyes narrowed, the slits grew tighter. "Ho? So I see that you fancy yourself a jester? Or are you drunk from the belief that you might survive earning my ire?"
"...I'm sure that you could devise some method of killing within time." Ash replied slowly, straightening himself out, keeping his voice flat as he spoke. "Just as I'm sure that, given enough time, I would eventually manage to get close enough to kill you. Either way, a battle between us would destroy Chaldea and that is something I do not…have interest in doing."
A raised brow greeted him, the unasked question hung in the air.
"...You've been watching me all day. Ever since you were summoned, I was curious as to why that was. The moment I detected your essence, I would have thought we would be confronting one another within moments."
"Hmph. Concetiful Beast, are you not?" The blonde scoffed dismissively. "You assume much, I have far more pressing concerns on my mind. Evaluating the humans of this place took precedence, despite your nature, you were hardly deserving of my immediate attention."
So it seemed.
A moment passed, then the lips of the blonde curved into a smirk. "And I found it amusing to watch you fumble your way through that kitchen, for a moment I had believed you to have discovered an Extra class reserved for jesters. Surely you would have placed Grand amongst those for your performance."
His smirk grew, on the verge of laughter.
"I deemed it a performance worth seeing through until the end."
"It was not something I did for amusement."
"And yet you have amused the King." The smirk faded, the narrowed eyes returned. "You should show far more pride in this achievement than you currently display…But that is beside the point, what are you doing?"
Ash glanced down at his mangled food, between the ruined potato crumbs and the mangled burnt strips of wyvern meat, he would have been inclined to say he was trying to cook, but he figured that the person before him didn't mean to be so literal.
"...Trying to find out what the point of it all is."
"Ho? You think you can force an understanding upon yourself through such menial tasks?" His tone was laced with amusement, "That if you were to take on the role of a mere peasant, you might be granted enlightenment of a people you understand nothing about? What juvenile thinking. It wholly befits you."
He felt annoyance surge through him for a moment, his eyes locked onto the blondes and his expression tightened, withholding what he actually wanted to say to them. "If you came here just to mock me, then I would say that you are too frivolous with your time-"
"Fool. I am entitled to spend my time how I so desire."
Of course, the privilege of the one true King.
Or so they would say.
He could call it the laziness of an indifferent tyrant.
"And I told you that it befitted you. You begin with nothing, learning from the ground up is the only path open to you. Though whether anything comes of this path is hardly my concern, watching your struggles is amusement enough for me to consider it a distraction worth entertaining…So long as it does not become boring."
The threat hung in the air, it needn't be said what would happen if they were to find his quest boring.
"Is that the only reason for your coming here then?"
Not that he would be surprised if it was, knowing what he knew of the story of Gilgamesh and having seen it through the eyes of Solomon, he knew that this was a man who prized his amusement above all else. The world existed for the sake of the King to do with as he wished.
"I see no reason why I should give my reasons to you. I wished only to see what Chaldea had achieved…I found myself underwhelmed."
A moment of silence, then the blonde shifted his head to the side and rolled his jaw.
"Though their unbroken resolve to face down the God they allowed to escape and correct their failure is worthy of praise. At least they are committed to correcting their blunder."
A flash of annoyance swirled through him as the words registered.
His complaint was allowing Gwyn to escape?
Was that really what they were going to call them out on?
Emotions surged through him, his hands clenched into fists and his teeth grit together, the words escaped him as a restrained hiss. "For one who claims Chaldea allowed a God to escape, I do not recall seeing your pompous ass anywhere near the battlefield."
Gilgamesh turned on him slowly, when they spoke it was in a cold tone of voice. "I am not some attack hound to be unleashed upon the enemies of humanity. If they could not even best a feeble old man, then they had no business calling upon my aid to begin with. Had they not been so careless then they would not have allowed the mongrel to slip through their grasp."
Closing His eyes, Gilgamesh turned his head from him and walked off. "Time will reveal if they shall fumble at the next blow, they came close and for that reason, I shall allow them a second chance…but if they fail yet again, then there will be no third."
Ash stared at the back of the King's head for a moment, then spoke up. "There will be no need for a third."
"There should have been no cause for a second."
Gilgamesh was absolutely right with that.
There should not have been cause for a second.
But there was.
It was purely because of the pride of the man in front of him that there was cause for a second chance.
He resisted the urge to click his tongue as he realised that forging an argument with the man over whose fault the escape of Gwyn was would be utterly futile. Gilgamesh would never admit that his actions were responsible for Gwyn's survival and escape, nor would Ash state that the interference of the King would have made no difference.
The King turned around, His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You are being shown leniency here, Beast. Only until you make amends for your actions…If I am not satisfied with your progress, I will see to it that you suffer the consequences for transgressing in my garden."
"My quest is not for your satisfaction-"
"It was, the moment you set foot on this world, everything you did and everything you were existed purely for my eyes to judge." With a grunt, the King turned around and marched away. "Do not ever forget that."
Ash watched the man depart, curled his lips and glanced off to the side.
A sigh escaped him.
He heard footsteps approaching him from behind, registering the appearance of the tanned Archer a moment later, the man leaned forwards and sent a troubled scowl in the direction of the retrating King before they stepped back. An explosive sigh followed next.
"Of all the Servants to show up, figures that he would eventually opt to stick his nose into everything."
Grumbling, the Archer turned his head, though not before fixing his silver eyes upon him. "I don't envy the attention you've garnered from that one, and I would watch yourself around them…If only for the damage they could end up doing to everyone else if the two of you had a physical altercation."
His concern was warranted, he supposed.
But the words of Archer were somewhat striking to him.
"You've had experience with him before then?"
Archer made an odd face at his words. "Something like that…"
With a hum, Ash turned his head from the Archer and spoke, "Then I do not envy you either. Having to deal with that gold plated tyrant for more than a single conversation."
Archer snorted. "We didn't do a lot of talking to one another, though he tends to have that effect on everyone."
Hardly a surprise.
Still, it would appear Chaldea did have some more troublesome individuals arriving.
And it would be best if someone checked to see if Velka was still alive, especially since it was through her direct plan that Gwyn came to life.
If there was one that Gilgamesh would have greater cause for disgust with above him, it would probably be her.
…Well, he was sure someone would check. There was no reason that he would spare the time.
He needed to work on these mashed potatoes anyway.
"Hey, Ash! Are you making so-Grugh!?"
The noise made by the approaching Gareth was one that sounded barely human, his head came up and he stared at her. Furrowing his brows at her rapidly paling expression, slowly, the Lancer raised a shaking hand and pointed it towards him or - more specifically - the bowl in front of him, filled with his second attempt at mashed potatoes.
"I-i-is th-that-?"
"...It's mash potatoes, yes."
She turned on her heel and bolted in the next second.
He vaguely heard something about her having to warn King Arthur and Lancelot, but he didn't pay all that much attention.
He turned his head down and stared at the bowl once more, then roamed through the information in his mind. It took a few moments before he finally settled on what it was that might have set Gareth off.
Sir Gawain made mashed potatoes frequently.
…He failed to see why that would bring such a reaction from Gareth, though.
With an internal shrug, he went back to work.