#potato elf | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vyncentevelyn · 11 months

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“Fuck…” Astarion mumbled, putting his hands on his hips, and staring at the ingredients in front of him. What the fuck was he doing? Had he ever actually cooked anything? Certainly not in the last 200 years, but before that…

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was pointless. He should walk away from all of this and count his losses before anyone…

“Oh, hello there.” Gale’s voice sounded behind him, “I didn’t expect to find you here considering your condition.”

“The same could be said about you, Gale.” Astarion sighed, his thoughts flitting through the multitude of excuses he could use as to why he was here but none of them sounded believable.

“Well, I still eat food. Especially since Elminster visited. And aside from that, I always cook.” Gale said.

Astarion could hear Gale approach and just stood there like an idiot. Frozen to the spot staring down at his haphazard ingredients for the recipe he did not know. Gale stood beside him and looked at the tabletop.

“Hmmm.” Gale muttered.

Astarion dropped his shoulders, “What Gale? Just say it.”

“It’s just curious. What were you planning on making with horseradish, a fish head, a carrot, and,” he picked up the last ingredient, “hmm…this is a rock Astarion.”

Astarion’s blood runs cold, naturally, but at this moment it felt as if his blood had caught fire. He blinked as Gale stared back at him; the rock still clutched in his hand. Astarion swallowed and then finally muttered, “I thought it was a potato.”

“I see.” Gale replied, still watching him with those deep brown eyes.

“This!” Astarion hissed throwing his arms up and taking a step away from the table, “This is stupid!”

Gale tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, “There is nothing stupid in wanting to learn a new skill. No, no, no.” He shook his head, “You just need a good teacher, you have the initiative, and that, Astarion, is half the battle. Luckily for you, I happen to be an excellent cook and an even better teacher – if I do say so myself.”

Astarion frowned. A part of him wanted to walk out and ignore the wizard. The other part though wanted to learn…wanted to succeed…

“Now, what were you trying to make?” Gale asked looking back at the ingredients, minus the rock which he tossed over his shoulder.

“I…” Astarion hesitated, “Iseult is sick…and she needs to eat.”

The answer hung heavy between the two men. Gale nodded slowly but his focus remained on the table, “I am aware.”

“I thought it would be nice, since she feeds me, if I fed her given that she is unwell.” Astarion said, hoping his tone sounded as nonchalant as he intended.

“That,” Gale started, his usually pompous cherry tone missing from his voice before he paused but when he started talking again his typical inflection returned, “that is a very nice thing to do. And I think I have a recipe we could make to help achieve this goal.”

Astarion blinked, “You do?”

“I think I do, granted it will not include rocks,” he looked up with a teasing grin on his face, “but it will rock.”

Astarion closed his eyes, “That was terrible Gale.”

“It was fantastic, and you know it.”

“What are we making Gale?”

“Soup.”

Astarion opened his eyes and met Gale’s gaze. Gale winked and picked up the carrot and the horseradish, “Are you ready to learn?”

Astarion sighed and rolled his eyes up to the sky, “Let’s get this over with.”

Iseult looked up miserably from her bed roll. Astarion stood in the tent’s doorway carrying a tray.

He studied her with those mesmerizing ruby eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh, “You look like shit.”

Iseult smiled, “Aw, you missed me.”

Astarion said nothing but placed the tray down by her bedroll before sitting cross legged beside her. Iseult sat up slowly and looked at the tray. A bowl of soup, a plate with a chunk of bread, and a glass of water sat on the tray beside a wilting daisy. Iseult looked at the vampire, but he refused to meet her gaze and just gestured to the tray, “You need to eat.”

“You made me soup…” Iseult’s voice was soft.

“I can’t have my favorite vintage killing over.” Astarion offered.

Iseult cradled the bowl in her hand and took a bite of soup. It was spicy and warm, potato and carrot with a hint of something hot. It was delicious. She put the spoon down and looked over at Astarion, “This is delicious. You did a great job.”

“Thank you. I, uh, I just learned how to make it.” He fiddled with the leather strap on the bed roll as he mumbled, “Gale taught me.”

“Really?” Iseult tried to keep the shock out of her tone, but she could tell from Astarion’s face she had failed.

“Yes,” he leaned back on his arms and looked up at the tent’s canvas, “yes. That damn wizard must poke his nose into everything.”

Iseult smiled, “Well, I appreciate you both. Thank you.”

As she took another bite, she noticed Astarion studying her in her peripherals.

“You like it?” He asked.

She nodded as she put the bowl down on the tray. She tore a chunk of bread and dipped it into the soup before popping it into her mouth. Then she turned and looked at him, “You are a magnificent cook.”

That devilish smirk pulled at his mouth, “Magnificent?”

“And clever.” Iseult replied.

“And?” He asked sitting up.

“And sweet.”

“Sweet? I’m not sure that’s the right adjective, darling.”

“You brought me a flower. You made me soup because I’m sick even though you had to work with Gale. You are caring.”

“Mmm.” His voice was hoarse, and he leaned into her space, “Tell me I’m beautiful.”

She leaned forward, dropping her weight onto her left hand so that her neck became bared to him. She whispered in his ear, “You are beautiful, Astarion.”

“And you,” Astarion whispered back, sending chills down Iseult’s spine, “are a damn tease. Put your neck away my dear, I will not be feeding on you while you have a fever.”

He leaned away, a smirk still in play. His eyes flashing between hers and the bare skin of her neck.

“Can you even get sick?” Iseult asked as she sat back. She tore another piece of bread and dipped it into the soup.

“In a sense.” Astarion said, turning his attention to the nails on his left hand.

Iseult swallowed, “Explain.”

He rolled his eyes, “It’s all so boring.”

“Nothing is boring to me when it concerns you.” she said, before taking a drink of water her eyes focused on his face.

He studied her for a second before saying, “If your blood is tainted with like poison or if you’re drugged or drunk, that could affect me. But I can’t catch your cold.”

“Then I can still feed you, if you want.” Iseult shrugged.

He leaned forward and looked her dead in the eyes, “I’m not making you worse. You’re keeping your blood until you are better.”

Iseult nodded; her eyes wide as she stared back at Astarion.

He returned to his original position, “Good. Now eat. I’ll be sure to make up for our lost time together once you are better.”

Iseult looked down quickly, but she was certain he noticed the blush painting her face. She finished her meal in relative silence. She lowered the empty water glass back down to the tray and picked up the daisy. She smiled down at the wrinkled petals, he must have picked the flower earlier in the day.

She looked back up at him. She wanted to ask him so many things. She wanted to learn everything about him. Instead, she smiled and let the longing to read all the stories buried deep in those bright red eyes stay buried.

Astarion nodded then and said, “Get some rest darling.”

He stood up and grabbed the tray before slipping out of the tent. Iseult laid back in her bed rolls and let out a sigh. She rolled onto her side. Goodnight, Astarion.

Astarion set the tray down on the riverbank and knelt into the wet earth beside Gale. He started washing the bowl, ignoring the wizard’s quizzical gaze.

“She said thank you.” Astarion offered when Gale had finally looked back at the dishes he was washing.

“Oh.” Gale nodded, “Well she is most welcome.”

Astarion bit his lip and then released it, “Thank you, Gale.”

Gale sat up and looked at Astarion, “Not a problem." Then he added, "I have more dishes I think you’d enjoy learning.”

Astarion finally met his dark eyes, “What?”

“You are not that good of a cook, but I feel hopeful for you.” Gale smiled, “Plus, I don’t mind having company.”

Astarion let out a chuckle. He rinsed the water cup and sighed, “On occasion, I suppose I could help you.”

Gale’s own laughter echoed out across the dark river, “Only if you feel like it, but the invitation is there.”

“I am certain the novelty of it will run out quickly. You’ll be retracting that invitation the moment I down a quart of pig’s blood.”

“That sounds fascinating. How much blood can you consume? Like in one sitting?”

“I…” Astarion paused and looked up at Gale, “I actually don’t know. Before the whole tadpole,” he gestured to his head, “I fed on what I could, but it was never enough. Recently though, I have fed on Iseult and then drained a whole bear in one night.”

“A whole bear!” Gale exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder instead of judgement. “I’d wager that’s got to be at least 60 liters.”

“How do you even know that, Gale?”

“Ah. A wizard has to know a great deal of information, and I may have needed some bear blood for an experiment of sorts once.”

“Of course.”

“You sound like you don’t believe me, Astarion.”

Astarion shook his head, “I’m just impressed you killed a bear.”

“It took me month to recover,” Gale admitted.

Astarion bent over in laughter.

“Keep laughing Astarion, but at least I know the difference between rocks and potatoes.”

“Fair.”