Desperation's Summit

7: Clean Up

As she set about the kitchen, gathering things for peeling and mashing the fruits, she mused how this would all turn out. Soon enough, sweet scents of fresh fruit filled the air. It intensified as the triplets learned how to mush softer foods into sauces. Of course, while Cordelia used the pestle and mortar, the three trollings used their own hands. Or the table's surface. Or one of their father's hammers.

Eventually, all the new experiences and hard work exhausted the little trollings, though. As each fell asleep, Cordelia would deposit their messy little selves into their beds.

"Oh, you're back," she said from her spot at the kitchen table when Rakash entered the home. There was a brief moment where Rakash was none the wiser to the chaos in his kitchen.

He shook snow off from his outerwear, kicked off his boots, hung up his coat. His refusal to look at Cordelia, in part, came from the thoughts that had rounded his head. Her offer to help his children understand Common and Trollish through her magic book and how that made him feel. The inferiority that struggled against a grudging approval that she'd help in such a way.

Maybe it was just to lord her abilities over him, but still. If his children knew both languages, it'd serve them well in the long run. He couldn't deny that.

With that grudging delight came other considerations and reconsiderations. Namely for her offer to help with certain needs. His lower stomach jolted at the thought, as it had over the course of his chores. It had been a long time. It should be longer, a bitter part of him hissed. He should keep it in his pants indefinitely, since no one would ever amount to Karina.

But fucking was not the same as love. What she had said made sense, as well. They were two adults who were going to winter together, taking care of his children. Close quarters - at least insofar as much as Cordelia realized - would heighten certain appetites. Whether logical or not.

As he turned, his eyes widened and his thoughts froze. The scent of ripe sweetness slammed into him. His eyes traveled from mess to mess, from his grime-crusted children to their dirty clothes and sheets to the kitchen.

Cordelia's smile grew wider with each passing second. Just about the time when she noticed his cheeks darkening and his angry gaze tilting toward her, she pressed a finger to her lips. "Quiet now, you don't want to wake them up."

"What happened here?" Rakash quietly asked, hoping there was a reasonable explanation for the utter disaster around him. His eyes shifted to the kitchen, thinking maybe they had an infestation of fruit mimics from her caravan supplies. It was far-fetched and highly unlikely, but he needed a glimmer of hope.

"I fed them," Cordelia chirped, sitting tall in her chair with her chest puffed out. Acting proud of herself, while Rakash was still trying to understand, still trying to come up with a good reason for the state of his kitchen.

In an angry hiss, he pointed to the counter. "Is that my hammer?"

"Oh, I was teaching them now to make fruit sauces, like apple sauce," Cordelia replied, her voice all sweet and sugar. Her smile ached at her cheeks, waiting for Rakash to realize the mess was intentional. He was buying time, hoping for a better answer. But, nope, he would just have to accept it.

Glancing at the hammer, her voice theatrically softened to something Cordelia presumed was proud. "Ebra got ingenuitive and got your hammer and, well, I couldn't stop their creativity!"

Her continued tone and smile told Rakash enough. Cordelia had planned this. Or at least came up with the idea and didn't have the sense to not follow through. He took a step closer to her, a growl in his throat. "And this mess?"