October III

"Okay," Summer said. "Lesson number…thirty? I think? Lesson thirty: cooking."

It was only tangentially related to raising baby Yang, at this point. Right now, Summer was teaching baby Raven.

The source of this whole arrangement, this odd cross between roommates and co-mothers and teammates, had been because Raven couldn't take care of Yang. However, it was a straight-up fact that Raven hadn't considered how she was supposed to stay alive without income when she'd quit hunting. Thus, the more expensive ready-made meals that she'd expected to live off of were gone. It wasn't within the realm of their original agreement to teach Raven extensive life skills like how to prepare foodstuffs into food, but Summer insisted upon it.

"I won't screw you, Ray. If you can take care of Yang but not yourself, it's a job poorly done. I'm your team leader, and that means you're my responsibility."

It brought a tear to Raven's eye, but that might've just been the onions. "Let's just…thank you. But let's just get on with the cooking."

It wasn't like Summer could teach Raven how to make every food in existence, so they were instead going over specific recipes that would teach her the unique skills she needed that could be applied elsewhere – stirring, oven safety, boiling water, or whatever else was necessary. There were probably a bunch of steps.

"It's just chicken noodle soup. I think most kids from Vale will probably recognize either this or grilled cheese as their first lunch. It's a good one, because we learn about handling raw meat when we cook the chicken, cutting the vegetables, and the difference between boiling and simmer." Summer winked at Raven. "Three for the price of one."

Honestly, it sounded like too many mixed things. Raven preferred foods that had just one or two things, as she didn't have to think about which taste to think about. Fries were good – potatoes and nothing more. Sandwiches worked as well, as they were merely meat on bread. For the chicken noodle thing, it was going to have grains, broth, meat, and every vegetable on fucking planet Remnant.

"Isn't this a lot? How much of this will we make?"

Summer, having assorted all of the ingredients into small bowls, smiled back at Raven. "Between the two of us, we'll have enough for three full meals when we make one batch.

"Three days?" Raven's hands went to the side of her head. "That's…That's nothing? Not even a week!"

"Three meals, Ray." Summer's hands went to her hips. "A day and lunch for the next. It's displacing the effort – your packaged meals or fast food cost so much not because of fancy ingredients or finer quality. If anything, the preservatives make them less healthy. But they're convenient, and most of the lien goes into that. Two frozen meals would cost as much as the entire array of ingredients I've got in front of us."

Well, I did choose to forgo my profitable career and get into the business of single motherhood, so I guess this is the consequence.

"Alright," Raven declared. "Let's cook, chat."

Like every one of Summer's lessons, there were just…so many things.

Dethaw the frozen chicken tits in the fridge the night before. If you didn't dethaw, use the microwave setting for defrost.

Wash the vegetables.

Don't wash the chickens.

Bouillon cubes are not the same thing as gold bullion and do not hold nearly as much value.

Preheat the oven first to save time, before you've got the chicken ready.

Hot oil spatters everywhere, and it hurts like motherfucker even with aura.

Set the stove to high to get the water boiling, then medium to keep it boiling or low for a simmer.

Simmers are long term cooking for soft vegetables. Boiling is fast mode for hard grains like the noodles.

Raven was probably going to forget most if not all of this by tomorrow. She couldn't learn so much in such a short time. They were going over theoreticals first before getting started on the actual cooking, but there were just so many steps, and the recipe Summer had just said 'dice the vegetables' or 'prepare noodles as directed by packaging' or 'shred cooked chicken.'

How? How does one shred a hunk of meat? I left Omen in the outdoor shed!

Summer saw it, and to her eternal credit, tried to slow down. "Let's just focus on the vegetables, first."

"Okay." Raven blew some air out of her mouth. "First was cutting, right? No, wait, washing."

Summer nodded. "Washing."

Well, washing was something with which Raven was familiar. She could do this, easy.

Watch me, Summer. Imma wash these bitches until they're so clean, you could eat off of them. I mean, it's food, so you'd probably want to eat them instead, but maybe the celery could be used as little, tiny, bowls for some other food.

"Ray," Summer groaned.

"What?" Raven indignantly squawked. "I'm washing! It's good!"

"You don't use soap to clean fresh vegetables." She covered her face with one hand as her forehead creased. "You don't use…just…gods, how do you not know this?"

The unexpected disappointment from Summer triggered a visceral reaction from Raven, and she let out a pitiful cry before she could control herself. Where one sob came, more followed, and Raven was crying like Yang on a bad day in less than three seconds.

"Oh, Ray, d-don't – I'm sorry! I didn't mean it."

No wonder Tai left me. I'm so fucking useless. Can't pull my weight…if I even tried to show my face back at the tribe, I'd be challenged and displaced before my boots even took one step.

Summer was rubbing her back and apologizing as Raven wept. She normally had a better handle on her emotions, but the multiple successive weeks of failing to improve at being a mother and being told by every business she approached on Patch that they didn't want her was starting to get to her. Summer had been her friend, and to let her down so thoroughly, to screw up so badly that even kind, sweet Summer couldn't stand her…there was no worse feeling. Even the dirt was more dignified.

"I-I'm sorry, Raven. I know you had an alternative upbringing, and I shouldn't have shamed you for it." Summer was starting to tear up a little bit too, and Raven felt even worse for what she was putting her leader through (though she still couldn't stop). "Don't worry. We'll get this. You and me, we can do anything."

"Useless…"

"You aren't useless."

Raven shook her head. Summer could console her for however long she wanted, but Raven knew the truth.

"I mean it, Ray. How can you be useless when…you snuck into Beacon? No one even noticed you and Qrow were bandits until years in. That kind of deception takes wits…and, no offense to your brother, but I think we both know who was the leader in your sibling relationship and infiltration mission."

Great. So I'm good at crime. I lied to Beacon, and when I was discovered, I turned my back on my tribe. Wonderful me.

"It's not just that, Raven. You remember our participation in the Vytal Tournament. We made it to the flippin' finals, and that was all you. And the only reason we even lost was because those fourth years from Atlas stacked their dude with buttloads of gear that we couldn't hope to match. You were the real winner of the tournament that year, Ray. In a fair fight, you would've beaten everyone. You aren't useless, because if you are then that means every student in the four academies is."

That wasn't true. That Atlesian may have used higher level weaponry than her, and maybe she'd run out of Dust because of prohibitive costs at the start of the singles round, but it was still a fair fight. Still, she was where Summer was coming from.

I was a great huntress, while it lasted.

But no more. I'm not a huntress any longer; I refuse to be, so that means my only purpose is wasted.

"Raven, who picked up Qrow when he was all sad and shi– and stuff about that girl breaking up with him? It certainly wasn't me, even though it should have been since I was his leader. Also, I seem to recall Ozpin bringing the four of us into the know on a big secret that they don't tell just anyone."

"Team Stark –"

" – is comprised of four people, and no team is stronger than its weakest link. And we know who's the weakest link."

Taiyang. He was good, but not as good as the rest of us.

"You pulled your weight, Ray, and then some." Summer slapped her on the back once more, this time less a conciliatory gesture and more of an uplifting, victorious one. "We can do this. Now let's rinse off those celeries and…actually, we probably ought to throw them away. But we can still make this soup! This I vow!" She triumphantly raised a fist in the air like a battle-cry, completely contrasting the mundane action of souping that they were doing.

Summer's almost dorky enthusiasm was enough to bring Raven out of her spiral of self-loathing. It was impossible to stay negative around someone who thought so much of the entire world, and her cute little smile always made Raven's day a little bit better.

"Also…" Summer bit her lip. "We don't have anymore leftovers. If we wanna eat, we kinda gotta finish this."

One soup later, lunch was served.

It had a little dirt in it from the time Raven had dropped some of the cooked chicken on the floor and thrown it into the pot before Summer could stop her, and maybe the noodles were stuck together because Raven hadn't stirred them as much as you were supposed to, but it was edible. Raven called it a success.

"Your first home-cooked meal," Summer said, sipping down a spoonful with that dainty mouth of hers. "You should be proud."

"The next one will be better," Raven promised. "This I vow."

For the sake of proving Summer's belief in her right, for the sake of being a competent adult that Yang could eventually look up to, and for the sake of eating, Raven wouldn't give up.

There were many reasons why she could never rejoin the Branwens: they were bandits and therefore enemies of the kingdom, she'd deserted them for years, and their values didn't align with what Raven had picked up from her friends and teachers in Beacon. But the one thing that they had taught her was that no tribeswoman, defector or not, would ever knuckle under and let defeat claim her. Raven was better than losing to soapy celeries or dropped poultry or agglomerated noodles.

I never thought I'd see the day where succeeding at a domestic life became my long term goal, but here we are.

In some ways, this could be a far greater challenge to my will and determination than any combat. As a mother and an independent woman, I'm protecting and nurturing, whereas a huntress solely destroys. Destroy Grimm, destroy obstacles, destroy enemies…the simplicity of combat…each victory a sense of solid, definitive, undeniable proof of my worth…

No.

Raven was done with that. It didn't matter if it was easier and yielded far more satisfying results at a much faster rate; she was sworn off violence.

Hold onto the feeling of your failure, Raven. Hazel Rainart is still out there because of you, and if he kills again, ever again…in fact, it's almost a certainty that he will. Maybe he has already.

I can never hunt again.

I don't want to.

Raven repeated it to herself.

I don't want to be a huntress.

She was smarter than knowing that repeating something made it true, but Raven also knew herself. Her mind was forgetting the resolve that her heart would invariably regain if she ever tried her hand at combat again. Summer's words of motivation had rekindled old memories, doses of the sero-tono-brain chemical thing that surges in her skull at the thought of the nostalgia of past victories.

Past victories mean nothing. They're done and gone. I need to think about future victories.

"I'm gonna quickly check on Yang," Raven said, setting down her soup. "Nothing's wrong."

I need to see her. I need to remind myself that she's here, she's real, and she needs me.

"Okay," Summer responded, entirely unaware of the internal conflict her teammate was facing. "It shouldn't get cold before you're back."

The trip up the stairs lasted no longer than five seconds. Yang was just lying there in her crib. She briefly looked up when Raven entered, then smiled and started throwing about her flabby arms like she was pantomiming swimming. She opened her mouth to gurgle some.

Nostalgia was a truly blindingly powerful phenomenon, but so was bitterness. Not every recollection had to be a fond one. There had been infants back in Oniyuri, surely. They must've been as cute as Yang, and they must've loved their mothers. They were dead, and Raven couldn't bear to be the bringer of any more death, even if it wasn't her fault.

The thought of the ruins of the town Team Stark had tried to save filled Raven with disgust. There would be no 'getting back in the game.' Never again.

An odd thought struck Raven: this mental conversation she was having with herself was probably similar or perhaps even identical to one that her husband would have experienced before he'd fled back to the huntsman life.

"Why?" Summer said, repeating Raven's own question. "Because…Because of a lot of things! For starters, it's free food. Like I told you about before, it's one of those things. Vegetables cost so much because of the labor put into them, so if you take on the burden of effort for growing them yourself, you save a lot on costs. How much did that zucchini cost?"

Raven couldn't really answer – she'd already forgotten – but Summer didn't know the price, so she could just guess it. It wasn't like the precise numbers mattered; Ray could tell when Summer was making a point in general.

"Five lien," she spitballed.

"Five? Hot dang, they're pricey in Patch. But still, the seeds and fertilizer costs about, I'd say, twenty-five lien, and we have enough to grow a good forty veggies." Summer put a hand on her hip, then immediately seemed to regret it when her work gloves got crumbs of dirt on her hooded outfit. "Full disclosure, there are other costs like equipment and stuff, but once we've got the watering can and trowel and whatnot, we can use them more or less forever."

Raven nodded. She was familiar with the broader concept of farming, and Summer's little garden promised free food that was entirely in their control. No more long trips to the supermarket, no more lien prices, and they could harvest the seeds from the fruits and vegetables they grew to get more for next time.

Tomato plants, grave vines, potato roots, pasta trees – it's enough to live off. We could cut down our lien by a factor of three. My job search wouldn't be as pressing if our lien budget went down, and I'd have more time to learn how to be a mother to Yang.

The baby in question had been placed in a highchair on the backyard porch so she could watch her mother and 'auntie' work the lands. Summer said the fresh air would do her good, as would the sunlight and the mental stimulation of seeing nature from the safety of a controlled habitat.

My baby does have Branwen and Xiao-Long blood. Her ties to both this land and to all of the wilderness run deep. You could call the great outdoors her heritage.

"You said there were other reasons?" she inquired.

Summer nodded. "Yep. It's a low effort way to get outdoors, and it'd be a waste to not use all this empty space when we have it." She opened her arms wide and gestured to the wide-open space where the trees around the cabin had been felled, presumably by elder Xiao-Longs generations prior. "Plus, it's therapeutic. Yang will have a garden in her backyard growing up, and you and I can destress with some healthy land-tending. We had a whole big garden back in the mansion when I grew up, and Mom and I used to have so much fun watering plants for hours." Summer scratched her forehead. "Of course, nothing ever grew since I drowned all of the plants, but Mom explained that to me when I was old enough to wonder why, and then I got in some more practical experience – anyways, the point is that I know how to garden, and it's a boatload of fun."

The food had been enough to sell Raven, and if Summer vouched for gardening's value towards everyone's health, Raven would trust her at her word. "Alright. I'm in. When do we start?"

"We start, my dear Ray, with me disclaimering some stuff to you first." Summer smacked her lips. "I can just imagine how this goes. Summer, how long will it take? Summer, how come the plants aren't growing? Summer, I planted a spaghetti noddle into the ground, but it didn't grow a spaghetti tree, what's up with that?"

Raven started to turn as red as one of the beets she might soon be growing. "I-I wouldn't!"

I was thinking of pasta, not spaghetti. Those are two different things, right?

"I know what plants are, Sum. I know it takes them forever to grow."

"Good." Summer nodded and handed Raven one of those baby shovels, the trowels. "I've figured it out, Ray. You are obtuse as a triangle, but we can't change that. I'm going to have to be the one to adapt my lessons in adulting and pre-empt your crazy here."

Summer then blinked for three seconds straight.

"Ray, what are you…"

"It's for her, right?" Raven replied, waving the trowel before her daughter. "Baby-sized for a baby?"

For some reason, Yang wasn't taking it – probably 'cause it was so dusty. Raven brushed the baby shovel clean once more just to make sure it didn't have any grime on it before offering it to her daughter once again.

Yang was pleased with this result and plopped all five fingers around the metal edge of the shovel.

"Ghubh," she chuffed, before getting distracted by the sight of her own arm and moving to gnaw on her elbow.

There was a clicking noise, and Raven looked up to see Summer pointing her scroll at the two of them, having removed her work gloves.

"It's just too cute. Mommy and baby's first gardening sesh – trust me, you're gonna want these photographic memories for later."

"Huh?"

"Don't worry, I won't be one of those numbskulls who focus more on pictures than living in the moment. Just a few snapshots here and there for the album."

Stepping over, Summer retrieved the trowel from the desk-like portion of Yang's highchair, placed it into Raven's hands, and put back on her work gloves.

"Hey, just because I'm new to gardening doesn't mean I should get saddled with the kiddie shovel!" Raven protested.

Summer rolled her eyes. "Let's just start planting the seeds."

Author's Notes

For some reason, I had them plant a victory garden in my head when I was thinking up this story, so it's gonna be a thing. It's not even important, just fluff and sometimes symbolism, but it was there in my mental image of 'Good for the Geese' (the working title of this fic), and it became impossible to remove without taking away the basis of this fic.

As you can see, this one actually does have fluff, unlike Jacques Schnee's B- Parenting. I don't really know why I call that one a fluff fic - maybe because it seemed like one by comparison to Murderess or Origin Story, and because I wanted to quickly explain how the tone was different. Can I Make it to Summer is by far the most mundane I've ever written and most likely will ever write (it doesn't even feature any combat). No other fics I have planned aside from a barely even drafted Jaune-Weiss-Pyrrha bumbling polyamory drama fic has so low stakes.

Happy rats, and don't do crime!