Disclaimer: Don't own, didn't happen.
The Story:
She rode in the cart the way she was supposed to, like a queen. Armenia pulled the curtain back and peered out into the land. Yes, a queen. That�s what she was destined to be. It was her fate. To be queen of these lands, possibly even more. And she was going to be queen if she had to rip the crown from the hand of that good-for-nothing husband of hers. Preferably from his DEAD hand.
She let the curtain fall back close on the small window, almost as if she was hiding her thoughts. Sadly, there was a little thing against murdering royalty. It was punishable by death if proven. As stealthily as Armenia was, she knew there was a five percent chance of something going wrong. She feared that five percent. It could cost her not only her life, but the crown, too.
The carriage finally came to a stop. It�s about time, Armenia thought. The faster we get this meeting over with, the sooner I can go home and scrub her stench off.
�I wouldn�t display such thoughts so openly, your ladyship.� came the dry wheeze of the witch woman. The door to the carriage opened to reveal the witch standing just beside the large boulder before her cave.
Armenia tucked away all personal thoughts and forced a thin, steely smile for the old one. She stepped out and walked over, back stiff and chin tilted upward. �Isn�t it a tad bit rude to peer into one�s thoughts, old mother?�
The witch made dry, wheezing cough that Armenia took for a laugh. �I ain�t your mother! And damn glad of it, too! No, not from what I�ve seen of the destruction of your path!�
Armenia rolled her eyes slightly. �Yes, yes,� she sighed, �my path, my path. Everytime i come out here, you go on and on about my path and such. But tell me, old witch, has there ever been true seer blood in your lines in the past five generations? Hhmmm? How about ten? No, I didn�t think so.�
She moved forward until she was but a foot away from the old woman. She could smell the woman�s earthy stench and see the fleas hopping on her head. She sneered, glaring disgustedly at the witch�s white, milky, blind eyes. �Here�s your payment. Let�s have this done with. There are things I must attend to. As I�m sure so do you.�
The witch smiled, or perhaps grimaced, showing her green/brownish rotten teeth. �Be that as it may,� she said slowly, not reaching for the small cloth bag Armenia held out to her, �I�m no lackey of yours, girl. Remember that. I don�t serve you. This is but a favor of sorts. Be thankful it�s being supplied to you. If the Lord caught wind this was happening. . .�
Armenia�s upperlip twitched and her hands trembled slightly. �He will not!� she forced out finally. �Because you will not tell him. You may not think you serve me, old witch, but your cave is part of my lands. MY lands. And unless you plan on moving anytime soon, that makes you one of my people, ergo my servant. You owe your loyalty to me, so be careful on just what comes out of that rotten mouth of yours.�
The witch grew solemn. She nodded slowly. �I see. I figured as much.� she took the money from Armenia and made it disappear into the folds of her raggedy clothes. From somewhere else, she pulled out another cloth bag, this one smaller. She handed it to Armenia who all but snatched it away.
Lady Armenia hefted it, then cocked an eyebrow at the old woman. �It�s lighter than before.�
The old woman tapped her body, making the money bag jingle. �It�s lighter than before.� she mocked her back, then turned and began walking away. How the old witch predicted her actions before this meeting, Armenia didn�t know, but it was pissing her off.
However, glad she was done with this for at least a few weeks, Armenia hurried into the carriage and shut the door. As the driver made a u-turn, Armenia stuck her head out the other window. �Remember, old witch, you serve ME. It�d be in your best interest to see I�m not upset.� she glared once more, then dropped the curtain angrily.
The old witch sighed and shook her head. �No, you silly twit,� she said, �I DON�T serve you. I serve the one who married you, that poor boy. Awww, but my Hunter has found some happiness, hasn�t he? Heh heh heh, ooh! Girlie, if you knew what I knew! And you think he�s just his toy! Hee hee!� cackling madly, the woman hurried into her cave.
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Davey relived the memory of the kiss over and over again, each time lengthening the duration in his mind. This became distracting, however, from his duties as cook. He paused, sniffed the air once or twice, then rushed to pull out the charred roast from the oven.
�Shit.� He allowed himself the foul curse. Indeed, he was entitled to mutter more. This was the roast he was meant to serve to not only Lord Hunter and Lady Armenia, but also to seven other neighboring rulers and their wives. Not to mention Lord Hunter�s father, King Dioden, who managed to arrive earlier that afternoon.
As a matter of fact, he was the reason Hunter�s and Davey�s kiss didn�t last longer than a bare press. Not more than a minute or so, a page rushed in, making Hunter jump back in surprise. The boy hadn�t seen anything, or if he had, his urgency announcing the Lord�s father appeared to be more important.
At the mention of his father, Hunter looked frantic. He sputtered a command to the page and waited until he left before turning back to Davey. �Uh, look, I�ll have to see to this, but as soon as I can, I promise, we�ll talk more. Just,� he put a hand to the side of the cook�s face, eyes taking on a glassy expression.
Davey waited, expecting to hear more. But Hunter instead, began leaning in again. Davey was glad, really. He�d rather kiss his Lord again. That first was too brief for him. Before their lips met, however, another page rushed in, followed by half of Lord Hunter�s council. This time, Hunter rushed out without so much as a backward glance.
Davey looked down at the blackened mess of roast. It was too late to make another. In fact, there was no other meat in the larder but the wild goose and about two carved out pigeons, not exactly what was needed for a roast dinner. Jus his luck today was the day before the royal hunter went back out to replenish the stocks.
So what now? Davey hurried about the rest of the dinner, adding it to the wheeled cart as soon as he finished. But his eyes kept going back to the roast. It was ruined. No one would want it now. He made a mess of it. And there was no way to fix it. His eye scanned across the counter and stopped. Or was there?
He stopped rushing about and looked at the basket of grift fruit on the counter. He remembered what had transpired the previous night. The way his Lord had coaxed him into eating the fruit for the sake of watching him eat. Davey�s fingertips lightly touched his mouth and he smiled faintly. Yes, that had been. . .
Davey shook his head. No use thinking like that. It got him in trouble the first time, hadn�t it? He looked about the kitchen, then found the bottle of cooking spirits he kept on the high shelf. That was it. That was his answer. He couldn�t do it any other way, really. Quickly, and knowing the food sould have been out five minutes ago, Davey grabbed the bottle and two fruits. With his uncanny speed, he cut the soft fruits in half and began smearing them across the meat. Making sure to leave no large chunks, Davey then doused the roast in alcohol.
The door opened and a servant rushed in. �Davey?� Nick 13 demanded in worry, �What�s taking so--� he looked at the mess of the roast. �What the fu--�
Davey picked up the tray and set it on the cart. �Have you got a match?� he asked, already pushing the dinner toward the door.
Dumbstruck, Nick padded his pockets, then pulled out a small matchbox. Davey shook one out, struck it, then touched it to the roast. It burst into flames rapidly. �Thanks.� Davey told him, handing back the matches, then pushed quickly through the doors before they could catch on fire.
Davey saw the surprised, awed eyes of the his lord and guests, but after he smiled, they erupted in applause. Hopefully, he thought to himself, it won�t taste as bad.
But it wasn�t bad at all. On the contrary, this new specialty of his became such a hot topic, pun intended, it took precedence over any other issue that was meant to be discussed at the table.
�And when the boy brought it in,� King Dioden was saying, a piece of roast on his fork being waved about in gesture, �I was certain he was trying to ask for help! Har har!� others laughed.
�Well, honestly,� a Lady, whom Davey didn�t know, �I didn�t think it would take this exquisite! Tell us, cook, what�s your secret? HOW did you do it?�
�Yes, yes!� came the cries up and down the table, �Tell us!� �What�s in this?�
Normally, Davey wouldn�t be present as they ate. He would have served, then retreated to prepare the dessert. But King Dioden had called him back everytime he tried to leave. He looked uneasily toward Lord Hunter, but for some reason his master wouldn�t look his way.
�Uhm, h-h-how I did it?� Davey asked quietly, looking nervously at his Lord and Lady. The second was peering him predatorily over her wine glass.
�Yes!� King Dioden laughed, joy in his eyes, �tell us! This is just about the best meal I�ve had in weeks! Speak, boy! Don�t be shy!�
Davey, however, found himself still taking steps back until he was half-covered in the shadows along the wall where the candle light couldn�t reach. At last, he finally found himself able to speak. �Uhm, well, I just c-covered it with grift fruit and spirits. And lit it on f-fire.�
King Dioden�s eyes went wide. �That�s it? Such simple genius, then!� he took another bite, chewing slowly to relish the taste. �Mmm! And how came about the idea to use grift?�
Davey blushed madly, but no one paid him any notice. They listened to him, but continued to eat. �Well,� Davey said quietly, �grift is the fruit of this land. And. . . and. . .� here, he gathered breath and stared straight at Lord Hunter, though no one saw, �and grift is both soft and sweet. What better fruit to counter a fire?�
As he expected, everyone nodded in agreement, all except Lord Hunter who nearly choked on his wine. �There, there!� King Dioden slapped him on the back a few times, �Take it easy, son! Har har! Never one to handle your drink, were you? Har har har!�
Hunter nodded and laughed also. But his glance to Davey was long and sultry, promising temptations with the slight curling of his lips. Davey felt a shiver. The only one to see any of this was the only one looking for it, Lady Armenia.
�Davey,� she said at last, �We�re nearly done with dinner. Perhaps now would be the time to get the dessert?�
He stepped forward and gave her a slight bow. �Yes, my Lady.� quickly, remembering he didn�t even HAVE a dessert planned, Davey rushed back into the kitchen.
He searched about madly. Why the hell hadn�t he remembered about the dessert?? What the hell was he going to do? He searched about the pantry and bread shelves. He found a good three loaves of sweet cake, but that wasn�t enough to feed all the people seated in the next room. He looked around and spotted the basket of grift. No, he told himself, that won�t help you this time.
He paused, light shining in his eyes. Or was it? He laughed softly to himself and went about getting enough milk and ingredients to make a fluffy, whipped cream. When he had his largest bowl filled, Davey grabbed four grifts. These were peeled and minced and added to the cream. The loaves of cake he cut into narrow slices to use as dipping instruments for the cream.
Again, he prayed it would work as he carted the dozen bowls of cream and the plates of cake. And again, his creation was met with cheers and applause. It was simple, they told him, but still very new and delicious.
�What will it take,� King Dioden said at last after much speculation, �to get you, boy?�
Davey was already making his way to the kitchen door when he stopped and looked back around. �Your majesty?� he asked a littel fearfully.
King Dioden slapped the table, but his eyes glistened in good humor. �Come now! What will it take to get you into MY kitchen? A grander title? A larger work area? I can give you all that. Just name your price, cook, and you shall have it!�
Davey gulped in shock and looked at Hunter. Hunter�s jaw dropped as he stared at his father. Anger, resentment and silent protest flashed across his face briefly. But when he looked at Davey, it was a hollowed sorrow that looked out. A pleading cry that clutched at his heart. Leave? Was King Dioden trying to make Davey leave?
Davey�s lips trembled and his feet shifted nervously. Leave? To get out of this kingdom? True, he could ask for anything he could wish for. That certificate from Lodd was looking very nice right now. And very tempting. But. . . what about Lord Hunter? He was just getting into something very nice right now. He was sure of it. And later, it would probably get a lot nicer. What was he supposed to do? Leave Lord Hunter�s hall and complete his mastery as a cook, or stay and possibly never get any higher?
In the silence of the room, Armenia smiled widely. Her chance had come, and she didn�t even have to lift a finger! �Why, that�s a wonderful idea, your majesty!� she told King Dioden. �Why, Davey is simply too cooped up in that small space! What have we for such a splendid cook? Surely your grander halls are adequate for his burgeoning skills! A terrific idea, your excellency!�
King Dioden smiled and rubbed his hands together. But before he could say anything, Lord Hunter broke in. �Davey isn�t going anywhere.�
His clipped, sharp tone cut through the hall like a sharp knife through grift. His glare focused on Armenia, but he spoke to his father. �Forgive me, your majesty, but Davey will stay here. Armenia is simply trying to please you. It is very well known she is in complete rapture over his meals. If you took him away, why, she would just. . . die!� he chuckled, getting a few laughs out of the assembled guests.
King Dioden laughed. �Well, if you put it that way. . .� but his eyes still lingered on Davey. Armenia saw this and cut in.
�But, husband dearest,� she said with sweet poison, �didn�t you say the night before that you wanted only the best for young Davey there? And wouldn�t the best be where his skills could be honed sharper still? How can I be selfish and keep him here to be suffocated? No, dear husband, we must let him choose his own fate.�
Hunter�s lip curled in unconscious hate. Instantly, the rest of the hall knew this was indeed a fight, no matter how courtly. Silence consumed them as they watched the two back and forth.
�Armenia,� Hunter said slowly, �don�t think you can try and give away all our best attributes just to make our friends happy. Diplomacy can�t be won by, ha ha, food.�
Armenia�s eyes glinted maliciously. �Oh, I�m sorry, dear, have I forgotten that already? Oh, and did I forget just how much you enjoy Davey�s. . . meals?� she chuckled darkly.
Everyone immediately understood her meaning. They turned wide, surprised eyes to Lord Hunter. His face burned, but he stood his ground. �Green isn�t your color, Amrenia.� he said simply.
�What?� King Dioden broke in, frowning heavily. �Am I to understand. . . Hunter. . . are you and that boy there. . . is he your. . .�
�Consort?� Hunter asked wryly. �Yes. He is. That�s why you can�t take him.� Whispers and mutters ran up and down the table. People looked from Hunter to Armenia, but mostly at Davey. Eyes inspected him, examined and scrutinized. Davey tried desperately to move further into the shadows, but there was none left. He was pressed already to the wall. He looked to his left and his right. The other servants were just as shocked as well. Some looked at him with disgust, others with surprise. Nick 13 looked at him with pity, as did Dexter and Chester. They had been his friends for a few years, so they didn�t treat him as the others did.
But right now, Davey didn�t want any of them to see him. He wanted to go back to the kitchen, back to his quiet, busy, anonymous life. That didn�t happen. �You, boy,� King Dioden said loudly, quieting the hall instantly, �Davey, step forward a bit. I want a look at you.�
Why should he care? Davey asked himself. Why concern himself with Lord Hunter�s consort? Eep! Consort! Is that what Hunter named him? Was he Lord Hunter�s consort?
Shyly, Davey took a few steps forward, then at an urging wave from the king, took a few more steps. He was now in the light and in full view of everyone. He clasped his hands in front of him and bowed his head slightly, his unbound raven hair obscuring his face.
�Hmm,� King Dioden rubbed his chin and peered at Davey. Davey glanced up and realized WHY he was being inspected. He blushed and looked back down. �Not bad,� King Dioden said at last, then smiled, �Not bad, Hunter my boy! Looks like you�ve got yourself a trinket, there! Gods! Look at that hair!�
Hunter grinned proudly. �See? Isn�t it the blackest you�ve ever seen? Very soft, too. Like velvet.� He gazed at Davey, no longer caring what any of the other lords or ladies thought. He had the acceptance of his father. And his father�s sanction meant that his consort was accepted, also. Much to Armenia�s annoyance, he saw with glee.
King Dioden spent a few more minutes praising not only Davey�s appearance, but also his skills at cooking. The last straw that simply broke Armenia was wehn he turned to her, eyes slightly glazed as Hunter�s were from looking over Davey.
�I think I see, Armie,� he told her, using the nickname he�d used when she was still a little girl, �why you�d want to get rid of him! Just his HAIR is something to compete about! Har har har!� the table erupted with laughter. The only one who didn�t laugh was Armenia. And Davey. Especially after the scalding glare she threw at him. He flinched and managed to take a few stimbling steps backward. No one noticed, thankfully, but he didn�t like the feeling he was getting just now from his Lady.
She wants to kill me, he thought suddenly, and with her anger, it�s very very much possible.
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