Prompt: Charmeine's Romance With Kore (Also A Look At Charmeine's Childhood)

Charmeine was an awkward child. An odd thing for any Seosten to be considering their genetic advances, let alone one who came with the sort of pedigree she did. Her genetic forbearers, the male and female who had contributed to her birth, were both from long lines of important military families, heroes to their people. Bringing the two lines together and coming out with a viable child had been tried several times before over the centuries with no luck. When Charmeine had actually been safely brought to term, everyone involved had thought that she would be on the fast-track to become another military hero for the bloodline before making it into the Seraphs.

That was what they hoped, what they planned for from the moment the child was born. It was what they felt was deserved after it had taken so long to have a living child. They believed all their patience would finally be rewarded with a war champion. The reality… was a bit different.

"Oh come on, where is she!?" The annoyed voice came from one young boy, about ten years old, as he ran through a set of metal doors that had just quietly whooshed open for him. He looked around the empty kitchen with a disgruntled sigh, peering into all the corners. "Charms! Come on, where the void did you go? The general wants you to run drills for red team today!"

"Is she in there?" Another boy, this one at least twelve, came in behind the first to glare at the pristine counters, cracking his knuckles. "I swear, if that little bitch doesn't get out there and do what she's supposed to soon, she won't have to hide from Yadathan, I'll kick her ass for him."

"Come on, she's probably hiding on the greenhouse roof again," the first boy noted, before looking around the kitchen once more. Just in case, he called, "You know, when Yadathan finds out you're skipping again, he'll put you on ruedek peeling duty for the rest of the semester!"

They both waited a moment, looking around intently to check for any reaction at all before groaning. Together, the two of them turned and ran back out to continue the search, calling her name the whole time, their voices becoming angrier by the word. Not that it was easy to tell the difference for the older boy if you didn't know him very well. He always sounded angry, even when he was having a great time. But right now, it was pretty safe to say he really wasn't happy at all.

A few seconds after the door had closed behind the two boys, one of the cupboards in the back of the kitchen popped open. A small, dark-skinned girl with a wild mess of white hair that stuck out in every possible direction poked her head out and looked around cautiously. She was maybe a year younger than the first boy, and several years younger than the second. Once she was certain the coast was clear, she slipped out of the cupboard and closed it behind her. When she spoke, her voice was a soft mumble. "Joke's on you, I like peeling ruedeks. It's soothing." The girl would only say something like that to herself, not in person. She didn't like confrontation.

And speaking of avoiding confrontation, Charmeine moved to the door panel to reset the sensor that would warn her if anyone approached it again. The corridor outside wasn't used for much, so anyone who came close enough to trip the sensor almost had to be heading for this room.

Satisfied that she'd know the second anyone started heading for the door so she could hide again, Charmeine made her way back to the counter and climbed up on a stool there. She opened a nearby drawer and carefully took out a cutting board with several different vegetables and pieces of meat already arranged on it along with a knife. She had been in the middle of arranging her ingredients and starting to chop when the sensor went off the first time, and barely had enough time to hide the board in the drawer before squeezing herself into that small cupboard.

This kitchen was barely used, mostly intended for special events when there were too many VIP guests visiting this military school for the normal kitchen to cover. It was meant for important leaders, not ordinary students who could just be fed from whatever they made over in the normal cafeteria. For almost nine-tenths of the rest of the year outside those special events, this kitchen went unused. Which meant it was perfect for a girl who liked to experiment without pesky and annoying adults who insisted that cooking was something best left to servant species.

Yes, she was awkward. Not because she lacked the ability to accomplish any of the amazing feats that her people were capable of, but because she lacked any interest in doing so. The two sides of her family had spent centuries attempting to breed together to create the ultimate soldier, a champion who would create a lasting legacy for their bloodline to ensure their names were spoken right alongside the greatest heroes of their people, and Charmeine couldn't care less about any of that. She did just barely enough to get passing marks in all of her courses, carefully staying right at the bottom of the class without failing out. She didn't care about that.

No, what she cared about was food. She loved creating new recipes, making things taste good, experimenting and finding brand new ways to tease taste buds. And not even just for her own people. She enjoyed researching other species to find out what sort of food and tastes they enjoyed, or what truly affected them the most so she could make things for them as well.

The look on her last guardian's face when he found out she was cooking dinner for the gardeners would stay with her for the rest of her life. He looked just like an exploding bulb-bird, and made squawking noises that were pretty similar too.

Sure, that had been fun in the moment, and it was still kind of fun to think about, but it was also why she had been sent away from that place. This was her fourth school in her short life. There was always another academy with another leader who claimed they could teach her to be the soldier she was supposed to be. No one really cared what she wanted, or what she thought. Certainly not her family. They just knew she would outgrow this childish phase of hers.

She wasn't a cook, wasn't a servant. She was Seosten, and they were meant to be warriors. Charmeine was the result of two of the greatest warrior families in recent memory coming together. She had big shoes to fill, and big names to live up to. And from where she was sitting, there was really no way out of that. She could sneak off to make a little food now and then just to stay in practice, but her dream of being a galaxy-famous chef, of everyone knowing her name because she made the most delicious recipes they'd ever tasted, would never actually happen.

At least she could work here in peace for a while. They would've given up on trying to find her by now and put one of the others in charge for drills. The general might have wanted her to be there, but he would only delay them for so long. He was a slave to his routine. Nothing would interrupt the drills for at least the next couple hours. Maybe by that point she would have figured out what the missing ingredient in her new stew was, because it just wasn't coming out right.

That was when it happened. Just as she was examining the array of spices in front of her to see what jumped out, the alarm started blaring. It came so suddenly that she almost fell off the stool, jolting in surprise before blinking up at the red flashing light. A light that shouldn't have been on, and a siren that shouldn't have been blaring. They were deep in the heart of Seosten territory, so it wasn't an attack. The only reason for the alarm to be going off would be some sort of accident.

But what kind of accident could've happened while they were out on drills? It had to be a prank or a mistake, right? It couldn't be a real problem. This was one of the safest places in the galaxy.

Picking up the knife, the small, eight-year-old Seosten spun it expertly in her hands before sighing. Mistake or not, her time cooking was obviously over. With that alarm going off, they were absolutely going to insist on having a roll call, and if she wasn't present for that, they'd tear the entire school apart looking for her. It would be much worse than just missing the stupid drills.

With a grunt of annoyance, she drove the knife into the cutting board and pushed herself off the stool to head for the door. Time to go face the music, and find out what the alarm was all about.

One thing was for sure, it couldn't be for anything more important than getting her stew right.

*********

Centuries Later

"What in the name of Crony's rotten old ballsack do you think you're doing?" With those very sharp words filling the air, a now very-adult Charmeine's hand snapped out to catch the wrist of the woman who had just been about to sprinkle some ground-up ulben cloves onto the fresh pel steaks she'd laid out on a cutting board that was almost identical to the one from all those years earlier.

"Wha--" The woman whose wrist had just been grabbed, and was still being held safely away from the food, blinked that way in surprise. "Who-- oh, hi. You're uhh, Charmeine, right? That's pretty lucky, if you'd been any further down the alphabet, I wouldn't know you at all. Sorry, I know we were supposed to go over the entire personnel records of our fellow test subjects before we got here, but I've been a little distracted. Haven't made it all the way to the D's yet."

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"Charmeine, yes," the woman in question confirmed flatly while holding her wrist in an unyielding grip. "And you're Kore. I made it past the D's. Because I did the job that they asked us to do."

"You're probably right, I should study soon," Kore agreed before hesitating. The two of them stood like that for a few seconds until the woman's eyes slid over to look at her wrist. "So if I promise to get right on that the second I'm done here, do you think you could let me go now?"

Charmeine's response was a snapped, "Not until I know you're not about to do something stupid like throw a handful of ulben onto that pel meat without rinsing and mixing it with kaer flour first."

Kore made a soft sound of surprise at that, eyes shifting back to the ground-up cloves in her hand curiously before she focused on the other woman and smiled. "Hold on, you're a chef?"

Grimacing visibly, Charmeine let go of her wrist, but not until after she'd given her a little tug to get that hand safely away from the meat. "No, I'm not. I just have enough common sense to know that it's stupid to put fresh ulben onto meat that's known for being juicy without adding anything to make sure it doesn't suck all those juices out of it. The kaer flour bonds with the ulben, so it retains the flavor you're actually looking for, but eliminates its absorbent properties."

With a soft giggle as her head shook, Kore gently pointed out, "That sense isn't exactly common, you know? I'm pretty sure most of our people don't actually know enough about cooking for themselves to be able to tell you what the difference between broiled and baked is."

"Baking is when you're heating it from all sides and controlling the heat," Charmeine put in reflexively. "Broiling is just cooking it really fast from the top at the highest safe temperature you can."

After getting that much out, she made a face and waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever, ruin your meat if you want to, no skin off my nose. Just wait until I leave so I don't have to see that abomination."

"Wait," Kore quickly pleaded when the other woman started to walk out. "I uh, I sort of called in all the favors I had to get these steaks. It was supposed to be a way to celebrate being chosen for this project and all. And uh, sort of a bribe too, I guess. I mean, I was planning on giving the other steak to the personnel director so he'd tell me what this Summus Proelium project even is. But it turns out he's vegetarian. Oops. Anyway, if you could help me make the steaks in a way that doesn't… how did you put it, suck all the juices out of them, you can have the other one."

There was a long pause as Charmeine squinted at the admittedly very expensive and rare meat. Finally, she pointed a finger at the woman in front of her. "I'm not a chef. I don't cook for people. I don't--" She interrupted herself with a muttered series of curses before all-but stomping that way. "Fine, let me see. Just don't tell anyone about this. If I find out you did, you will regret it."

"Right, big secret, nobody gets to know you have hobbies," Kore agreed while putting a finger to her lips. When the other woman glared at her, she just smiled that way. "So where do we start?"

Muttering something about how she was going to regret this, Charmeine stepped past her and picked up a basting brush. "You start by staying out of my way." After a brief hesitation, she sighed and amended, "Over there on the counter, there's three brown bottles. Bring me the one on the left, the two spice shakers on top of the lower right-hand shelf, and some jaubnen butter."

Kore was already moving that way. "Okay, but I'm getting that bottle of Pymreah wine I saw too."

"That's not the right wine to marinate the steak," Charmeine shot back as she examined the meat.

"Good thing it's not for the steak then," Kore replied primly, setting the bottle down nearby with a couple glasses. "It's for us. I want to get to know my new not-chef friend, and wine is great for making people share. Besides, as far as I'm concerned, all of the best traditions include wine."

"Well, that doesn't matter," Charmeine informed her, "because this is not going to be a tradition."

**************

"How long have we been doing this by now?" Kore asked curiously while sipping from her glass as the plate of pasta and creamy sauce sizzled in front of her. "How many times has it been?"

"You've been spending too much time with other species," Charmeine informed her after tearing her gaze away from the window overlooking a colorful rainbow-pattern nebula. The two of them were in Kore's quarters on the Olympus, where they could eat without being bothered. "You can't play the, 'gosh, how long has it been' game when our people have perfect memory. You know as well and as quickly as I do that this is our fiftieth dinner over the past two and a half years. And if you were wondering, no, you're still not any better at cooking than when we started." Belatedly, she amended, "Well, not alone. You do okay under strict supervision."

"I guess I'll have to continue being supervised then," Kore noted with a smile, tapping her fork against the pasta thoughtfully. "But fifty dinners, hmm? Now what was supposed to happen at fifty dinners if we kept doing this?" Making a show of 'remembering,' she grinned. "Oh yes, you were finally going to tell me why you don't want anyone else to know that you like to cook."

Charmeine made a face at her plate. "When I said fifty, I didn't expect to get that far. And it's not that I don't want anyone to know I like to cook, it's--" She paused before giving a low sigh, falling quiet for over a minute. Kore didn't press her then, didn't try to nudge her, physically or verbally, to start talking again. She just waited patiently for the other woman to be ready on her own.

Finally, Charmeine started to talk in a low voice without looking at her, eyes locked on her plate. "When I was a child, I liked to sneak away from my training class so I could cook in peace. I loved making food, experimenting with new recipes, testing, tasting, sharing it with others so I could see that look on their faces… everything and anything to do with cooking. I loved it so much that I used to hide so I wouldn't have to participate in combat drills, and could just do that all day. I never wanted to do anything else. Food was my life."

Another few seconds of silence followed before she managed to push on. "One day, while I was hiding from those drills so I could cook, they put one of the other kids in charge. The drill was hide and seek. Well, our training version of it. The kid they put in charge of Red Team, our team, really wanted to impress the general. He wanted to prove he deserved to be there, because he knew I was the first choice. So he had this idea about getting the whole team to hide together in a place no one would find them. Under the test shuttle launch platform. There were ten kids on Red Team. They all died when that ship launched. They burned to death from the heat when it…. when it took off." She could barely finish saying the words, the lump in her throat making it almost impossible to get them out.

"I would have known better. I should have been there. I abandoned them because I wanted to cook, because I wanted to play around with food instead of doing what I was born to do. They died because I didn't want to be bothered with it. After that, I just-- I walked away from cooking. I dropped it, I threw myself into training, into being what my family wanted me to be. They were all at that school because they wanted to be soldiers. They wanted to be warriors. I thought… that the least I could do-- the only thing I could do-- was do that for them. They only died because I was doing what I wanted to do, so I'll spend the rest of my life doing what they wanted to do."

She only realized that she was squeezing the fork hard enough for the tines to draw blood when Kore gently extracted the utensil from her grasp and brushed her fingers softly over her palm. She had been responsible for using healing spells and ointments on Charmeine before, so now all it took was a quick application of her power (the one that allowed her to set any part of anyone's body to any condition she had been responsible for causing in the past) to make the woman's hand as good as new. Then she interlaced their fingers and held on tightly like that.

"That was not your fault. You were a child, Charmeine. They were all children. The adults who were supervising the exercise should have known where they were. The people responsible for the launch platform should have locked it down better, should have done a full sweep before launch, should have had alarm spells up. There were many people responsible for that. But none of them were you. And you don't have to live the rest of your life trying to make up for something that wasn't your fault."

Charmeine still wouldn't look at her. "Yeah," she muttered, "it's easy to say that. You weren't there. You weren't involved. You weren't--" She stopped and blinked up as the other woman rose to walk around the table and join her on that side, all without releasing her hand.

Reaching that side of the table, Kore gently tugged Charmeine out of her seat, and took a small spell coin from her pocket. A quick toss and word summoned a pile of blankets and pillows in a corner of the small officers' kitchen they had commandeered. Without saying anything, she pulled the woman with her that way before sliding down into a lounging position there. Charmeine was pulled down that way, until the two of them were half-laying in that pile of soft cushions.

Only once they were there did Charmeine find her voice. "What the hell are we doing right now?"

"Right now," Kore informed her, "we are going to sit here, and I'm going to tell you about some kids I used to know back in my first school. After that, if you'd like to tell me about the kids you used to know, I'd love to hear it."

"You want me to sit here and listen to you talk about your own childhood memories?" If she had been talking to most people, those exact words coming from Charmeine would have sounded utterly disgusted, even irate by the very suggestion. But in this case, with Kore, she sounded bewildered.

Kore, for her part, shrugged while snuggling up against her in that pile of pillows and blankets. "You got anything better to do?"

An entire list of chores and extra duties she could be getting a headstart on ran through Charmeine's head, before fading away as she looked back at Kore, feeling the woman snuggling up against her. "No," she answered quietly, leaning over to touch her lips to the other woman's. A woman who would eventually die and have her body taken over by the Revenant known as Persephone before Charmeine could bring herself to confess the full extent of her feelings to.

"There's nothing else I'd rather be doing right now."

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