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A rustle, a clang, and a whispered curse woke Lucanis. He jerked upright, heart beating wildly and a dagger already in his hand before he had processed what was happening.
"Oh! Sorry! Were you asleep? I didn't mean to wake you, I just needed to grab the flour." Bellara chewed her lip, hand paused in reaching down to retrieve the bowl that had fallen.
"Bellara? What time is it?" Mierda, had he really fallen asleep?
"Oh, you know. Two… three in the morning," she replied, guilt scrunching her face just a bit as she grabbed the bowl and stood up.
"Why are you up so late?"
"I couldn't sleep. There's so much running through my head with the gods and the responsibility. I thought, maybe a snack will help!"
"A late night snack?"
"Yeah! My mother used to make me hearth cakes when I was little and I was hoping it would help. Sometimes it helps." A sad smile tugged at her lips as she reached for the flour and clutched the sack tightly. "I'm really sorry about waking you."
He had been lucky Spite hadn't taken over when he'd fallen asleep, but it seemed the last intervention had given the demon at least some pause. He surprisingly was quiet, even now.
"Would you like some help? I don't know what hearth cakes are, but I would learn."
"Oh! Sure! I can teach you, they're really simple," she chirped, flitting out of the pantry as he stood from his cot and followed. Out in the main room of the dining hall, Bellara hovered by the table, pouring flour into the bowl she had carried.
"What do you need?"
"Berries! Pick some out, whatever you want. And butter. I brought back some halla butter from Arlathan, it's over by the oven."
Lucanis padded to where she had indicated, finding a wrapped block of butter. The oven was cold, a fire not yet lit.
"Do you need me to light this?" he asked, waving at the oven as she began mixing water into the flour.
"Hm? Oh, no that's okay. Hearth cakes are best made directly in the fire so I was going to use this one," she explained, pointing one dough-streaked hand at the main fire behind her.
He raised an eyebrow but set the butter down before rifling through the store of fruits and emerging with some raspberries and currants.
"Are these good?" he asked, showing her the selection and she nodded, blowing a stray strand of hair from her forehead.
"Yes, throw them in, please!" She mixed them into the dough. "Could you get a skillet? And butter it?"
"Of course."
He watched curiously as she dumped the dough into his procured skillet, giving it a few taps before nestling it into a section of warm embers by the edge of the fire.
"Now we wait! It shouldn't take long, just a few minutes. Probably."
"Is this a typical Dalish recipe?" Lucanis asked. He was unfamiliar with Dalish cuisine, and he appreciated having somebody knowledgeable about it, and cooking, to talk with.
"Oh, yes. We would always make some after coming across enough berries. It was one of our favorites, me and my brother. We would fight over the better half," she said, a soft smile lighting up her face as she recalled happier times. "Oh, it's done!"
Carefully, with two towels wrapped around the handle, Bellara lifted the skillet from the fireplace and deposited it onto another towel. Lucanis breathed deeply, savoring the smell of cooked berries and butter as she cut it into half and spread more butter on top.
He took a bite, enjoying as the flavors burst in his mouth. "This is… very good, Bellara. Thank you for sharing it with me."
"You're welcome. Thank you for sitting with me. It was nice to not just be alone with my thoughts."
They ate in a companionable silence, sitting quietly for a moment after and staring into the dancing flames.
"Next time, will you teach me an Antivan recipe?" she asked, glancing at him shyly.
"It would be my pleasure. Tell me, have you ever had churros?"