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Midwinter // [Cato/Kay/Arrows/Rade/Dee/Ems]
Dec 24, 2015 12:45:36 GMT -5
Post by garnet beauford d8 [earthling] on Dec 24, 2015 12:45:36 GMT -5
NAVYA SACHDEVA
In the warm and well-appointed kitchen of Katelyn Persimmon, a Midwinter Feast was being prepared. The sun had just begun to fall towards twilight, although its descent was difficult to mark. Outside, a blizzard raged, piling snowflake upon snowflake, so that the only indication of the approaching night was a slow change from white to grey to slate. None of the guests of Katelyn Persimmon noticed. In every room, a fire burned merrily. In the kitchen, the stove flickered with blue flames. Two pots simmered, competing for most delicious aroma: a hearty chicken stock in one and a fragrant mulled wine in the other.
Navya Sachdeva dragged a box packed with ice from the pantry. “I think it’s time to open this gift from my family, before all of the snow melts all over your lovely kitchen.” She glanced up at Katelyn Persimmon and offered a tentative smile. It had been months since Harbinger had returned home, months of visiting with her best friend and her heart, and often Katelyn Persimmon as well. But she still always found a way to say the wrong thing. At least she had stopped fawning over the victor, the way she had over the slow autumn.
She pried off the lid and sorted through the top layer of snow. Beneath, she found a dozen jars of their finest apricot jam and one slender bottle, the length of her forearm. It was peach colored and just this side of frozen, sloshing inside of the glass.
Navya furrowed her brow and then with a gasp, spun to the stove. “It’s apricot brandy! Perfect for mulled wine. Did you know – I’ve never had wine? I feel so – ” She nearly said Capitolite before she stopped. Watch your tongue, she admonished herself in her mother’s voice. She worked out the cork, poured a few spoonfuls into the pot, and then set it aside. She ran her hands – sticky with honey and sugar – over her apron and then looked to her host.
Like her house, nothing about Katelyn Persimmon was amiss. She had worked all day, cooking and hosting and preparing, and yet she was clean, head to toe. Navya knew she had flour smeared across her own forehead but hadn’t yet found a moment to scrub it away. She had been too busy assisting the victor however she could. “So, what are you making now?” She asked, setting aside her measurement of the other woman. Navya came to stand at her side, peering over the baking pans and utensils. She did her best to follow the recipes, to listen carefully to the instructions. But her heart was in the other room, and she could not help but listen.
All at once, everyone else in the house burst into laughter. Navya’s head snapped up, and then cocked to the side. She felt the distance between her and Harbinger – less than a sunset but more than she could bear – fill her heart and then her throat. Tears suddenly sprang to her waterline and she turned her head away from Katelyn Persimmon.
“I’m sorry. It’s just all so – so miraculous? And I know I have you to thank and I just – ” She lost control of her voice then, as she threw her arms around the other girl. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She blotted her eyes with sticky fingers and then scooped up a set of mugs. “Who wants mulled wine!” She hollered for the rest of the house to hear.
Navya Sachdeva dragged a box packed with ice from the pantry. “I think it’s time to open this gift from my family, before all of the snow melts all over your lovely kitchen.” She glanced up at Katelyn Persimmon and offered a tentative smile. It had been months since Harbinger had returned home, months of visiting with her best friend and her heart, and often Katelyn Persimmon as well. But she still always found a way to say the wrong thing. At least she had stopped fawning over the victor, the way she had over the slow autumn.
She pried off the lid and sorted through the top layer of snow. Beneath, she found a dozen jars of their finest apricot jam and one slender bottle, the length of her forearm. It was peach colored and just this side of frozen, sloshing inside of the glass.
Navya furrowed her brow and then with a gasp, spun to the stove. “It’s apricot brandy! Perfect for mulled wine. Did you know – I’ve never had wine? I feel so – ” She nearly said Capitolite before she stopped. Watch your tongue, she admonished herself in her mother’s voice. She worked out the cork, poured a few spoonfuls into the pot, and then set it aside. She ran her hands – sticky with honey and sugar – over her apron and then looked to her host.
Like her house, nothing about Katelyn Persimmon was amiss. She had worked all day, cooking and hosting and preparing, and yet she was clean, head to toe. Navya knew she had flour smeared across her own forehead but hadn’t yet found a moment to scrub it away. She had been too busy assisting the victor however she could. “So, what are you making now?” She asked, setting aside her measurement of the other woman. Navya came to stand at her side, peering over the baking pans and utensils. She did her best to follow the recipes, to listen carefully to the instructions. But her heart was in the other room, and she could not help but listen.
All at once, everyone else in the house burst into laughter. Navya’s head snapped up, and then cocked to the side. She felt the distance between her and Harbinger – less than a sunset but more than she could bear – fill her heart and then her throat. Tears suddenly sprang to her waterline and she turned her head away from Katelyn Persimmon.
“I’m sorry. It’s just all so – so miraculous? And I know I have you to thank and I just – ” She lost control of her voice then, as she threw her arms around the other girl. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She blotted her eyes with sticky fingers and then scooped up a set of mugs. “Who wants mulled wine!” She hollered for the rest of the house to hear.
table coding (c) ghosty
