shining like the stars

77

Hunk was cleaning up the remains of an early lunch, scraping scraps into the rinse-off area and setting the dishes aside to scrub. For the most part everyone cleaned up after themselves but Hunk didn't mind the occasional kitchen duty, simply because it allowed him to focus on a simple, quiet task. It especially helped when he started to get overwhelmed at the world he found himself in.

"Does the ship not have programs to automate cleanup?" Illianya's voice startled him a little and he dropped the dish he was scraping into the sink, where it clattered among the other dishware he had set aside.

"There's a dishwasher, if that's what you're asking," Hunk said, as he delicately picked up the tray and resumed scraping into the trash. "I like washing dishes sometimes, though. It's more fun when it's not a chore." Shiro's tray now cleared, Hunk dumped into into the warm, soapy water, then looked over at Illianya, who was watching him with a puzzled expression. "Something wrong?"

"You, a paladin," she said, brow furrowed. "You cook, and you clean ... for fun?"

"Well ... yeah?" Hunk shrugged with one shoulder, the other fishing around in the water for the tray he just dumped. "I mean, for one it would be completely rude to foist all of this off on Coran, he's got like a dozen things to do, and for two, his cooking is atrocious." Hunk shuddered and then realized that Illianya was still staring at him, so he backpedaled a little. "But, you know, maybe he's a gourmet to you Alteans, but I'm not sold on food that tastes like something scraped off the bottom of my shoe."

Illianya stepped closer and leaned against the counter, folding her arms as she watched Hunk, side-long. Then she sighed, and shook her head. "The elders would be having a fit," she said, but she was smiling.

"Why?" Hunk rinsed off the tray and set it aside, then moved to the fork and single prong utensils. "Everyone's meant to pitch in, just 'cause I made nice with a giant robot lion doesn't mean I get to sit around."

"Ideally, the palace would be full of attendants," Illianya said. She wasn't looking at Hunk now, but rather toward the center of the room. "This castle ... is much smaller than we'd been led to believe. But the Castle of Lions has been myth for many centuries now, and the paladin-candidates are more like acolytes than warriors."

Hunk straightened, flicking the water from his hands. "I dunno, you and Rian seem pretty warrior-like to me..."

Illianya lifted her head and looked at him, but then smiled sharply. "We are not the usual candidates," she said. "When rumors that the lions had been seen among the outlying systems the elders had to scramble, several of the current ... excuse me, former, paladin-candidates were older, and new ones had to be selected." She touched the end of her hair, the heavy golden plait laying over her right shoulder. "I was of the class training to be royal guard."

Hunk held out a towel, and Illianya looked at it, confused, then to Hunk's face, eyebrow arched. "You're drying," Hunk explained, and after a moment Illianya took the towel from Hunk and moved to his left side, so he could pass along the rinsed tableware. "Never washed dishes before, huh?" Hunk asked lightly, as she flipped the towel to her other hand and took the tray he passed her.

"I am not a child," Illianya said stiffly, as she dried the tray and set it aside. She dried the next one he handed her, and then said, "I cannot fathom how this could be fun."

"It helps me clear my mind," Hunk said.

"I feel that could be accomplished in far less demeaning ways," Illianya said. "Meditation, perhaps."

"Doing the dishes isn't demeaning," Hunk said, offended. "And meditation makes me sleepy."

Illianya quirked another smile as she stacked the trays. "Maybe you aren't doing it right."