Cooking For Relia

Cooking For Relia

Bang, bang, bang. Kaewer kicked the door of the luxury apartment hard enough to get Relia’s attention but soft enough to, hopefully, not leave a mark. The door opened with a soft woosh as it inched back and slide into the wall, opening into a large open space that curved with the bend of the tower. In the middle, the space sunk slightly, encircling a comfortable couch, small table and fancy holodisplay that faced out the magnificent view of the Iradathin district that the 178th-story apartment afforded. The kitchen sat along one arc with its island and the small table Relia overlooking the living area. One entire section of open space was dedicated to a vertical garden. The entire apartment’s design was a hyper-modern blend of glass, metal, wood and living nature that arced and curved with the flow of the building. Like most draiker structures, very little followed the hard, straight lines that other species preferred. She’d always liked Relia’s apartment. The wall fountain in the bedroom was her favorite little touch, it was such a cute like niche, even if it did suck up space.

“Rel!” Kaewer mumble-yelled as she stumbled into her girlfriend’s apartment laden down with a collection of brightly coloured reusable bags.

“Coming!” Came the muffled answer as Kaewer made her stumbling way toward the relief of the kitchen counter. The door slid open and Relia stepped into the living area of her apartment, still in the middle of tying her hair up. As soon as she saw her beleagured girlfriend, she gave a soft “Oh!” and started to hurry across the apartment.

“Ith okay. I goch ith,” Kaewer managed, ignoring the steadily growing ache in her jaw. Apparently, she’d grabbed the heavy bag in her teeth and gravity was starting to win. She made it to the kitchen without dropping anything and settled the bags of produce down with a sigh.

“What’s all this?” Relia asked, smiling as Kaewer rubbed her jaw and stretched her shoulders.

“Dinner!”

“Kae, bringing ingredients for me to cook isn’t exactly the romantic night in you were promising,” Relia said, crossing her arms in indignation.

“What?” Kaewer squeaked, turning to face Relia with ever widening eyes. “No, no, no — I mean — that’s not — Is that what this looks like?” Relia managed to hold onto her stern look for only a few more seconds as she watched Kaewer melt into a puddle of concern before collapsing into her melodious laugh.

“I’m sorry, souhar,” She laughed as she wrapped Kaewer in a hug, pausing to kiss her on the forehead. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered and it’s such a rare thing to see.” Kaewer let out a sigh of relief and growled something into Relia’s shoulder. Before Relia could ask what she’d said, she felt the questing fingers.

“Kaewer nO-” Relia collapsed in helpless giggles as tickling fingers dug into her side, dragging her tormenter down on top of her. The assault only lasted a few seconds before a devilishly cocky grin and sparkling emerald eyes framed with short black hair appeared in her vision.

“What are you doing down here?”

“Being attacked by a terrible rogue.”

“Mmm, a rogue you say? I suppose they stole a kiss like this?”

“Hmm… not quite but close. Might want to try again,” Relia breathed, her own voice husky. Kaewer chuckled and compiled. It was several minutes later, the two ialaran were composed enough for Relia to gesture at the bags.

“Seriously, what is all this?”

“It’s dinner,” Kaewer said again. “But I’m not going to make you cook it.”

“I don’t think Oroda does house calls. Besides your house that is.”

“She would if I begged but she’s not going to. I’m going to cook you dinner!” Kaewer sat up a little straighter, grinning with bluff confidence.

“Actually?” Relia asked, leaning back to regard her girlfriend with doubt. Kaewer was skilled at many things but growing up surrounded by personal staff, including a full kitchen staff, hadn’t exactly given her the opportunity to learn the art of cooking.  Relia had teased Kaewer about it a few times but hadn’t meant anything by it.

“I got the recipe from Oroda for her Ryajuerin vo Tonadro e Peruhiylin. The one you love so much. Didn’t know what ingredients you would have on hand, so I grabbed every…” Kaewer leapt to her feet, disentangling herself from her girlfriend with hurried grace and rushed over to the counter. She pulled out a cartoon of tocorak, the sides already dripping wet and hurried to put in the freezer. “Everything, and a few treats.”

“So,” She continued, pulling her short hair back into a small ponytail and pulling a bottle out one bag. “Just sit back and relax while I make us dinner.” She pulled a glass from a cabinet, filled with the cherry-wine she’d brought and handed it Relia with a crooked smile. 

“I’m going to finish getting ready while you get started,” Relia said, taking a slow sip from her glass. “I have an apron in the tall cabinet on the right. Don’t finish it all before I get back.” The heavy strumming of leatabaiciwared music built from the apartment’s sound system as Relia connected to the apartment’s entertainment suite and turned on some music.

Kaewer snorted and shook her head with a smile as she began to pull out ingredients. She found the scarlet apron that she’d bought Rel for Ashizuikalu and chuckled. It was a functional apron but cut in a flirty, body hugging way. Relia had cut quite a figure with it in this very kitchen and clearly wanted Kaewer to do the same. She pinned an Interface window right above the counter as she tied on the apron, putting the recipe the Jirvaerka’s head chef had given her prominently in the air where she wouldn’t miss it. She hadn’t done that the first few times she’d practiced this dish and it hadn’t exactly gone great. The fire alarm had been embarrassing, the food poisoning she’d given herself had been worse.

Kaewer drew out the slab of tonadro meat and flipped a long knife off the strip of magnets holding it to the wall. She caught it after two rotations and began slicing the thick meat into narrow strips, humming and swaying in time to the rollicking beat coming from the speakers. The meat went into a large bowl where Kaewer sprinkled salt, the pungent coetari sauce, oregano and the hot eizuvrak. She followed up with several diced cloves of garlic and set the whole thing off to the side. The knife and cutting board went into the sink, a lesson in hygiene Oroda had beaten into her head. Double checking her recipe, and the helpful pictures she’d taken so she’d remember what things like ‘diced’ meant, Kaewer paused to listen to Relia singing from the other room. The song was a cover of a lively and somewhat bawdy drinking song almost as old as the Imperium itself done in the more modern music style. She chuckled as the famous veterji singer belted out the rapid-fire lyrics in a ringing and powerful mezzo-soprano, and unhooked the walk from its place of honour over the range. She dropped a generous dollop of butterleaf oil into the pan and lit the range. While that heated up, Kaewer diced the shallots and minced the garlic with the confidence of someone who’d grown up wielding dangerous tools.

These went into the pan of spitting oil together, Kaewer setting a timer even as she began preparing the zucchini, mushrooms and celery. Next into the pan went the meat, almost before she’d finished the cubing the zucchini, Kaewer bouncing quickly back and forth between cutting ingredients and stirring the wok. She’d tried to get the hang of flipping the food without a tool but several near-oil fires and some serious messes had shown her she still had a ways to go. So the wok got tossed the old fashioned way, with a pair of tongs. She compensated for the lack of showmanship by playing with her tools. Kaewer wasn’t comfortable with the art of cooking but she was a highly trained fighter with amazing dexterity. Knives flipped and spun as she danced to the music, interrupted with the rapid ta-ta-ta-ta-ta of cutting.

“That doesn’t look like something Oroda taught you,” Relia purred, catching Kaewer mid-shimmy and flourish. Kaewer gave an undignified squeak, catch the twirling knife lower than she’d planned and stumbled.

“Enjoying the shooowww-” Kaewer began, coming back up to strike a pose that never formed. The tongs sprung out of momentarily limp fingers as she took in her girlfriend’s appearance. She was wearing a tunic top that hung loose but clung in tantalizing ways. The vivid turquoise and black caused the pale green of her eyes to pop in a breathtaking way and long skirt was adorably layered. Relia laughed as Kaewer coughed to cover her shock and recovered the tongs, cleaning quickly and wincing at the mess on the floor. The zucchini and mushrooms had gone in a couple of minutes earlier and the virtual beeping of a timer bought her a few seconds to turn her back and recovered. She added the final ingredients the celery and leafy cabbage. After tossing the stirfry a couple of times, she felt recovered enough to pour herself a glass of cherry-wine and face her girlfriend.

“I’m underdressed.” She took a long sip from her wine as she took in Relia’s outfit in more detail, not hiding the appreciative sweep of her gaze. Kaewer’s own outfit was more simple, a well-tailored golden tunic and some black leather pants. Her heavy jacket with its bevy of pockets was crumbled over a chair at the island.

“If that tastes half as good as it smells, I’d say you’re overdressed,” Relia said, matching Kaewer’s gaze with a smoldering look of her own. Kaewer choked on her wine, doubling over the sink in a sudden fit as Relia’s hearty laugh rang out.

“Four months and you still can’t handle flirting. Honestly, dear heart, one would never suspect you of being so shy.”

“You are an evil ialar,” Kaewer rasped when she could breathe again. “A dark temptress playing with my tender heart.”

“Me?” Relia gasped, placing a slender hand on her chest and turning just the right way. She put on her most holo-star sultry voice, “I intended to play with more than just your heart, my dear.”

“Evil ialar,” Kaewer snorted but she smiled fondly.

“Kae?”

“Yes, souhar?”

“The food?”

“Oh MAISO!” Kaewer spun on her heel and began furiously tossing the stir fry. The damage wasn’t terrible but the mixture at the bottom had definitely been overcooked compared to the mixture at the top. She turned off the burner and shifted the wok to a cool one. It was then that Kaewer realized her second mistake

“Ancestors take me,” She groaned, dropping her face into palms.

“What?” The teasing note was gone, only loving concern in Relia’s voice now. Kaewer sighed and pointed to the counter where the package of peruhiylin, thick rice noodles was sitting unopened with one hand.

“Oh,” Relia said in an oddly strangled tone. There was the rustle of cloth and thin arms wrapped themselves around Kaewer. “You almost managed it.”

“You’re laughing at me,” Kaewer mumbled, “I can hear it.”

“I’m trying really hard not to,” Relia said. “Really, really hard. But we can fix this.”

“How?”

“Scoop out the stir fry, put it in a large bowl and put in the monserdec. Leave as much of the liquid in the wok as you can. We’ll boil some water, soak the noodles for a few minutes and then fry them in the liquid. The monserdec will keep the stir fry hot that long. It won’t quite taste the same, but that’s half the fun of cooking.”

“What, messing up the recipe?”

“Experimenting!”

“Last time I did that in a kitchen, mom almost had to call EOD… y’ouch!” Kaewer rubbed her ear as she twisted to glare at her girlfriend. “What?”

“You’re being melancholic, it doesn’t suit you…” Relia sniffed, relaxing her hand but still hugging Kaewer. “I’ve also heard that story, it’s not half as bad you’re making it out. No one had taught you the difference between a kitchen and a laboratory yet… or the difference between flash oil and cooking oil, which admittedly was a bigger issue.”

“Mom and dad have never fixed the blast damage on the arc. There’s still a fist sized crater missing in the stone. I think dad still has the ruined pan in his office with a plaque.”

“See, nothing but good has come out of that tale,” Relia continued gamely. She kissed Kaewer on the cheek and patted her face. “Now, let’s rescue this lovely dinner you’ve made for us. I’m getting hungry.”

“Evil ialar,” Kaewer snorted, gently untangling herself from Relia to fetch a large bowl. Relia let her go, pulling out a pot to fill with water. Kaewer slid the stir-fry mix into the monserdec with a pang of regret as Relia flash boiled the water with a twist of magic from the range. While every magi-tech technician Kaewer had ever talked to swore up and down that the monseras process altered nothing about the food, Kaewer had always found the magical stasis fields tuned to preserve food for weeks always flattened the flavors of food slightly.

“How are things in the Ancestral Watch?” Relia dumped the noodles into the heated water and threw a short timer up in the public interface space before settling back against the counter, after a quick check to make sure the spot she’d picked was clean. Kaewer sighed softly and leaned against the monserdec door.

“Wow, that bad?”

“Nothing bad, just…” Kaewer waved an arm. “I know it’s an honor to be rotated through, to guard the heart of the Imperium but I’m not actually doing anything up there. Just drills, shinning my armour and more drills. I’m one of the best combat mages in the Imperium and I’m just rotting up there.”

“Everyone needs downtime,” Relia said, reach out a hand which Kaewer took. She pulled the frustrated Jirvaerka over to her. “Besides, it’s not all bad is it?” Kaewer chuckled and pulled her girlfriend tight as the noodle timer went off.

“No, I suppose not.” She kissed her girlfriend on the head and grabbed the strainer. “Now, out of the kitchen. I’m making you dinner and that means I expect you to enjoy the show. Even the part where you have to save the meal.”

Frying the noodles in the leftover liquid couldn’t exactly save the original flavours of the dish but by the time Kaewer had sufficiently fried the noodles and mixed the stasis-ed mix back into the wok for a quick toss and reheat, the smells filling the apartment were tantalizing enough for her to not worry.

Kaewer opened another note panel in her private Interface layer, reading Orodas’ carefully detailed instructions for how to plate this dish for maximum effect. Kaewer glanced at the colourful but clean and crisp example photos and then to her more muddled and chaotic mixture in the wok and made a face. She scooped the stirfry into bowls, placed the bowls on Relia’s nicest plates and put the sprig of pine on top as a garnish.

“Dinner is served, vinlarzui.” Kaewer announced turning to face Relia in the dining room, a plate balanced in each hand.

“Good, I’m starving,” Relia purred. Kaewer swallowed a lump in her throat and flashed Relia her cockiest grin.

“I’m sure I can help.” She dimmed the apartment’s lights with a brief directed thought through her Interface. The rollicking music faded into the stately melodies of classical orchestral music with another thought. Kaewer placed both dishes at the small table near the curved window and then pulled out Relia’s chair. Relia sat a smile and Kaewer finally remembered to take off the apron. In lieu of candles, Kaewer summoned a small constellation of small fairy lights to drift around the table in a twist of magic.

Objectively, the meal wasn’t up to the standards of the Jirvaerka head chef but neither ialaran seemed to care as they became absorbed in the quiet patter of eating together.

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