This is not at all the ficlet I set out to write, but it’s what happened when I started. I figure I’ll just run with it today, and enjoy a little glimpse into Aely and Arrens’ celebration of Pilgrim’s Bounty.
Late afternoon sun streamed through the window of Arrens’ study, deceptively hiding the intense fall chill in the air. He took a deep breath, enjoying a moment’s reprieve from the stack of term papers on his desk before picking up his pen again to make notes- only to be interrupted again by an odd noise.
Sounds like someone is wheeling in a cart full of rocks?
The sound stopped, and he could still hear Aely walking around, so he went back to the paper again.
A few moments later, and he could swear he heard someone taking a hatchet to something… in his kitchen. Alarmed, he scampered around his desk and out into the hallway.
“Aely? Aely! Is everything ok?”
The offending paladin popped out of the kitchen, hatchet in hand. “Yeh, ‘m fine. Why?”
“I… you… hatchet? What are you doing?”
“Makin’ pies.” The expression on her face was deadpan, as though this should be the obvious answer to why she was wielding a hatchet to the kitchen.
“With a hatchet?”
Aely flicked a bit of orange goo off her shirt. “Yeh, gotta cut up th’ punkins somehow…”
“Pun… oh. Oh! Where’d you get the pumpkins?”
“Th’ last ay th’ garden ones. Found a few that’re no’ squishy yet. Figured I’d make pies t’ bring th’ wee ones feast t’morrow, yeh?”
Arrens grinned. “Good idea too, love. I’m sure they’ll be devoured. Do you need help?”
“Nah.” Aely brandished her hatchet ferociously. “Just gonna roast ’em up an’ make pies. An’ I’m mostly through th’ punkins. Hope I dinna bother ye too much?”
Arrens shook his head. “Of course not, but I think I might come join you in the kitchen, especially if you’re going to be smashing pumpkins with a hatchet. It sounds like it might be more entertaining than these term papers. The last few have been just dreadful.”
She made a face at him, and went back to her pumpkins, chopping them into manageable pieces for the oven. It wasn’t hard work, but there were quite a few hunks of orange squash gore spattered around the kitchen when she finished. She did not TRY to fling bits of goo at Arrens, but it wasn’t her fault he was within flinging range.
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