Winterfall

After we finished training, we decided to pack up and head to the kitchen for an early morning breakfast. My stomach growled at the thought of the delicious smelling food that waited for us in the kitchen.

“The smell of sweets overwhelmed your senses, didn't they?” Theoden questioned me with a smile.

I felt guilt flash across my face. Sweets were my weakness, “Maybe…”

“Let’s go back to the castle then, I am sure Roland has breakfast ready by now.” Theoden said. Usually early morning breakfasts like this, was just Theoden, Roland, and I as most of the staff was still asleep. As not everyone was an elf.

What made it even better, Roland knew about us so we didn’t have to hide our romance around him. As he has prepared several picnic foods for us or woke up early to serve us breakfast before anyone else woke up in the castle. Now, we didn’t makeout in front of him, however, him knowing about us, allowed us to be ourselves. Breakfast with Roland and Theoden easily became one of my favorite time of the day.

As we walked back to the castle, it was still dark. The moon was full, and all the stars in the sky were visible as there wasn’t a cloud in sight. The air felt a bit chilly and the combo smell of clean and earthy filled my nostrils as the sparkling of the morning dew glistened off the grass. Walks like this were always peaceful as the majority of the kingdom was still asleep.

Halfway to the castle, Theoden stopped me briefly, “I'm sorry.” His abrupt apology caught me off guard.

I looked at him curiously, “For what?”

“For doubting.”

I glanced up at Theoden as I finally made the connection. He was referring to our shared dream the night before. We continued our walk towards the main kitchen of the castle for breakfast. “It's alright,” I reassured him.

The rest of the walk fell silent. As we approached the open kitchen archway, the delightful scents of apple tarts, eggs, bacon, ham, and waffles greeted us, definitely what I smelt earlier.

“Good morning, Princess and Théoden.” Roland greeted us, his whisk swirling in a bowl. “I trust your training has worked up an appetite.”

"You have no idea, Roland." I replied as I settled into a seat at the ancient oak table that held centuries of history within the castle.

"Allow me to assist you." Théoden offered as he reached for the whisk in Roland's hand and seamlessly took over the mixing duties. Meanwhile, one of his timers chimed, signaling that something in the oven needed Théo’s attention.

"Thank you." Roland replied graciously, swiftly making his way to the other side of the kitchen to retrieve a pan of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

Observing the two of them working together gave me the urge to want to pitch in and help. I reached for another whisk and looked over at Roland. “Teach me.” he gave a nod as he pulled a hot pan out of the oven. “I want to learn how to properly cook.”

“You're not trying to steal my job, are you?”

“I wouldn't dream of it.” I said as Roland was one of my personal favorite family chefs.

He handed me a bowl and Théoden a few eggs. “If she's learning, you are too.” He declared, instructing Théoden to crack three eggs into the bowl. Théoden cracked all three eggs at once, not even getting a single shell in the bowl.

“Now, it's your turn.” Roland directed towards me, passing over three more eggs. “Just remember, no shells.” he added with a smile.

The memory of the last time I cooked with Roland, where I had managed to get bits of shell in every egg I cracked, flashed through my mind. I rolled my eyes and focused on carefully cracking each of the three eggs one at a time.

Roland then instructed Théoden to mix the eggs, creating a mixture for French toast. Meanwhile, I fetched the seasonings from the pantry and added dashes of cinnamon and a sprinkle of brown sugar to the egg mixture to enhance the flavors.

Earlier, Roland had prepared homemade bread for us to dip in the egg mixture before placing it on the skillet. We took turns flipping the French toast and adding more slices to the skillet.

“Great job.” Roland commended as he sampled a bite of the first batch of French toast. “Now, go eat so I can wrap things up here.” He insisted, playfully ushering us out of the kitchen and back to the table.

Roland had several plates set out in front of us. Varying different types of foods. Théoden ate the majority of the meal while I ate the delicious sweets that Roland had made. Within a few minutes Roland had come back out of the kitchen and into the dinning area carrying a tray with some orange juice.

As he was on his third plate of food Théoden glanced over at my single plate that was topped with pancakes dosed in syrup and a plate of tarts and cookies. “Sometimes, I forget, our appetite varies.” Causing all three of us to laugh a bit.

Roland gave us another glass of freshly made orange juice and let us be, “what are your plans today?”

“Hopefully, avoid the devil in the house.” I joked.

“You can't avoid him forever.” Théoden said.

“You're right.” I sighed in resignation, hearing in my mind.

I'll be with you even when I'm not physically present. I nodded in acknowledgment, finding comfort in his words.

“Anyways,” Théoden spoke, savoring one last piece of crispy bacon, “I have to go do rounds. I'll see you later.” As he passed by me, he cast a quick glance around the room before planting a tender kiss on my forehead.

I love you; his thoughts echoed in my mind before he snapped back into his guard stance as Roland reentered the kitchen to tidy up.

I love you, too.

I assisted Roland in cleaning up the kitchen, “you know,” he started, “you're unlike the other royals I have served. Well, except for your parents. They used to enjoy cooking in the kitchen themselves, you know.”

This brought back a lot of memories with my parents and me, as I thought back to how my dad loved to cook us Sunday dinners, and always, on my mother's and I's birthday, he would make us our very own special cake as he loved to bake things for us.

On the other hand, my mother wasn't exactly handy in the kitchen, but she would try to make my father his own cakes and such, and even if they didn't turn out quite right, my father always ate them. My father was the first one to teach me how to bake, and I baked my first round of sweets with him, and perhaps that is why I always had a sweet tooth.

“Thank you, Roland,” I wiped my hands with a cloth. “I suppose I should go check on Marcel now.”

“Good luck, Princess.” He spoke and continued cleaning up the remainder of the kitchen.

After ascending the spiral staircase, I walked down the hallway to Marcel's room. With each step, the faint smell of brimstone filled the air. Standing before his door, I knocked three times. “Marcel?” I called out.

I heard Marcel's footsteps approaching the door, and as he opened it, I found him standing there with only his bottoms on. His skin looked rugged and well-toned, and his eyes held an amused glint as he observed me taking in his appearance. Leaning against the door frame, he flashed a toothy grin at me. “I was starting to think you had forgotten about me.” He remarked, his voice carried a hint of a hellish accent.

I could feel he was looking at me as I looked down at myself and realized I hadn't changed out of my workout clothes. “What?” I questioned him.

“Nothing.” He responded, “what gives me the pleasure of having you visit my room this early in the morning?”

I sighed, “please,” I spoke as I attempted not to roll my eyes, “it may be pleasurable for one of us.” I spoke, unable to stop myself from saying, “sorry.” I spoke as I took a deep breath, only to be choked by his overwhelming scent. “Can we start planning our wedding?”

“What still needs to be decided, Princess?”

I cleared my throat, “well there is a ton of planning that goes into a wedding Marcel.”

He tilted his head as he seemed a bit lost, “like what, my darling?”

“How do you not know?”

He sighed, “Well, I have never been the marrying type. Never had what you would call “the one.” I almost felt bad for the devil, almost as if not having one to call your own must be a lonely life.

“Please, no pity, Princess.” He spoke as he must have sensed my face faltering a bit, “I'm not truly alone; I just have never experienced real love.” He took my hand and massaged it gently, “Perhaps you could change that.” He bent down and kissed my hand, staring up at me.

I pulled my hand back, “real love isn't forced, Marcel.” I spoke a bit harshly, and he glared at me, speechless. “Real love is finding someone who makes you better, who completes you. It's never forced.”

“I guess my parents never taught me real love.” He spoke with a heavy sigh, “their version of love wasn't with wedding bells and seeds being thrown as the bride walks down the aisle.” Reminding me that there was a big difference between us. “Since I am forcing you, i'll plan a wedding with you.”

He caught me a bit off guard, but I simply said, “thank you, Marcel.” I stepped into his room and hesitantly closed the door behind me.

“So, with a wedding, there is a lot that goes into it.” I told him, “There are flowers, cake, themes, colors, food, music, decorations…” I began to trail off everything that a wedding needs, and to my surprise, he took out a piece of paper and a quill and began to write down what I was saying.

“We already have a date, so to speak, at the beginning of fall,” I reminded him of what we agreed on already.

He looked down at his scribbled notes and backed up at me, “you know, I'm sure we could hire someone for this…”

I glared at him, “no, Marcel, if I am being forced into this, then you are being forced into planning it with me.” I said, holding my ground.

He sighed and eventually agreed with me, “fine."

“Besides,” I spoke as I tried to get him more engaged with the idea, “there is even the wedding night we got to plan too.”

At that point, I could feel Théoden through the bond as he voiced, Mi Amor? His jealousy started to burn at this point.

“The wedding night? Now I think I have an idea of what goes on then…” as his smile shifted into a grin.

I rolled my eyes, “that's what gets you excited about this?”

“Do you blame me? Darling, I don't know if you believe me when I say this, but you are truly beautiful.” He actually gave me a compliment for once.

“Thanks?” I responded, “I think it is best if I go now.” I said with a firm voice.

“Why?” Marcel questioned.

“Your behavior.” I told him as I walked back towards the door.

“Wait…” Marcel said, “What about any details for the wedding?” He reminded me that we had not discussed anything about the wedding.

I sighed and went back and sat back down, “let's start with flowers.” I told him. “Flowers are a key to wedding details. Do you have any favorites?”

Marcel looked at me, a bit dumbfounded. “Favorite flowers? Why would I have a favorite flower?”

This is hopeless….I spoke to Théoden.

“I suppose it's fine if you don't. We can use my favorites unless we want a certain meaning behind it?”

“Flowers have meaning?”

I sighed, “yes, flowers have meaning.” I repeated. I gave him a few examples, to which he stared at me the whole time as I spoke about how one flower means this and the other means that. “Let's just go simple.” I could tell I was confusing him. “I have a few flowers in mind, to which I will get to our florist today so they can make sure they have them.”

“Good. Well, one down.” Marcel spoke about checking flowers off the list.

I got back up and returned to the door, “thank you for planning a wedding with me, Marcel.” He nodded in response, and I left, closing the door behind me. I hurried off to my room and took a deep breath of fresh air as I closed my door behind me. Since there is only so much Marcel I can handle, so to save my own sanity, the wedding planning will have to be spread out.

Planning a wedding without you is torture.

I know Mi Amor…I know.

I took off my workout clothes, lay back on my bed, and stared up at my ceiling. If only….I whispered through the bond.

Someday, we will have our wedding, Mi Amor…