Perhaps Frey should have gone out on top.

Hubris had gotten the best of him, he figured as he looked down at his sticky hands with disgust. Hadn't the praise he'd received from the Fjærhaugs regarding their son's fondness of him been enough? Now he was baking bread while waiting for a roast, prepared beforehand by Revna, over the fire to be done, as if he knew what he was doing at all.

It felt like he'd been adding flour for ages. How much could possibly be required? It didn't help that the recipe he'd found in an old Hrimskan cookbook described it as 'Flour: Until the dough feels just right'.

"Just right for what?" he muttered to the sad excuse of a dough, trying to free his hands of it all while hating the buttery substance against his skin.

"How's it going?" Marius asked as he stepped into the kitchen with two buckets of water, needing no verbal answer as he noticed Frey's frown. "Dough's being difficult?"

"I'm this close to flipping the whole trough over." Frey separated two dough-glued fingers just a little with an increasingly frustrated scowl.

"Just not over me, I hope." Marius raised a bucket as Frey looked back at him. "I'm ready to take my revenge this time."

Frey narrowed his eyes. Marius was most likely joking, but with their track record of pastry throwing and bucket tipping, it was also not an impossibility, so he decided to play it safe.

"No, not over you."

"That's a relief." Marius put the bucket down again to take a bundle of poofy, yellow flowers out of his coat. "And look what I found near the well."

Frey eyed the flowers.

"Coltsfoot."

"Ooh, flower knowledge." Marius had his eyebrows arched while pouring a glass of water to put them in. "Though I guess they're pretty common, especially around this time of year."

Frey let his gaze rest on the small flowers, a sting in his heart making itself known, and he released a quiet breath.

"My... Father loved making up nicknames for people." His eyes wandered down to his hands. "He actually called me coltsfoot until I told him to stop."

Marius cocked his head to the side.

"Which was...?"

"... First time he tried it." Frey smiled softly. "I still remember it though. He had a name for the others after all so while I didn't want him to use that one, it was nice to have been included, I suppose."

"It wouldn't be the worst name." Marius held up the glass. "They're pretty after all, like you. Brightens up a room."

"Just don't bring in too many or you'll have to fetch water all day," Frey pointed out like the mood killer that he is. "You already need to go all the way to the well, so better not waste it on flowers."

"It's not like I have to go down all the way to the river." Marius dismissed it with a shrug, but it was soon followed by a grimace. "Though honestly? The river might not be such a bad idea, what with the sweat I've been working up."

"Oh, I hadn't noticed..." Frey's voice was monotonous, trying not to imply that the sweat smell had bothered him ever since they got back from the Fjærhaugs. "... But now that you're bringing it up..."

"Nice try." Marius gave him a hug from behind, making Frey's shoulders tense up at the idea of getting sweat all over his shirt, and he tried to worm his way out of the grip. "Perhaps we both should take a river bath."

Frey didn't even want to imagine it. The weather was still far from warm enough to have a pleasant swim outside, and he just knew Marius would get some dumb, childish urge to tackle him into the water whenever he dropped his guard.

"I'm not going anywhere near that river with you, but you do what you want." A memory of the book he'd found in the library earlier hit Frey, and while he knew it was superstition he still felt the need to address it for other reasons. "Just look out the nix."

Marius blinked.

"What, now?"

"It's a joke, but... Also not." Frey had begun rubbing his hands together in an attempt to dry out the dough enough to wipe it off. "A nix is a malicious river spirit that tries to drown people, but it's mostly a cautionary tale so children won't play near water."

"So I'm a child who shouldn't play near water?"

"Well, can you swim?" Frey raised an eyebrow at him. "Age aside, water can be dangerous."

"I can, actually." Marius looked smug, which was fair enough because Frey had expected a 'no'. "So no nixes will be drowning me anytime soon."

"That's..." Frey trailed off. He'd only brought it up as a joke so there was no need to get into the lore or things he'd heard from others. "... Not so easy, but it's not an actual threat anyway. It's a tale from a book my mother used to read."

"It sounds fascinating though." Marius had an intrigued look on his face. "My mother used to tell us stories too, of course, but you've had a whole library's worth of stories just in this house."

"I guess." Frey nodded slowly in thought. "Perhaps... I could read to you some time, if you'd like."

Marius' nod was far quicker in pace.

"Absolutely. We can do it now. We could read about that nix creature."

Frey kept his lip from curling. He wasn't fond of made up tales, but if Marius liked it, how could he say no?

"If you keep an eye on the fire, I'll wash my hands and go get it."

They curled up together on the couch, Marius getting comfortable against Frey's shoulder to see better, not that there were many pictures to be found.

"So, the book is told as if a person is exploring and meeting these creatures," Frey began. "Each chapter is about a different one."

Marius raised his head slightly.

"They met all these creatures?"

"No, the person isn't real."

"Oh." Marius looked disappointed, but lowered his head to Frey's shoulder again.

"One day when my little brother and I were passing through a small town by the edge of a forest, we heard a strange melody'," Frey began to read, disinterest growing already. "'My little brother said 'let us find the person who plays so—"

"You have to do a voice."

Frey turned his head slightly to narrow his eyes at Marius.

"What?"

"Well, if there's more than one person, you have to do different voices so I know which one is which," Marius argued without the slightest hesitation from Frey's stare. "Not that the tone you're reading with right now is very captivating. You've been acting all your life, so I know you can do better."

"I'm not going to do voices." Frey eyed the page. "Just pay attention and it will make sense."

He disregarded a sigh from Marius before continuing from where he'd been interrupted.

"My little brother said 'let us find the person who plays so beautifully', but—"

"Let us find the person who plays so beautifully," Marius repeated with a higher pitched, squeaky voice that caught Frey off guard, and he barely stifled a snort. "See? It's not that hard."

"I said I'm not doing voices." Frey blew a curl away from Marius' forehead. "Just listen now so we can get somewhere."

Marius finally obeyed, and let Frey tell the tale about the main character and his brother narrowly escaping the nix's enchanting music that almost lured them into the water.

"Yeah, sounds like you got the right idea to look out for something like that." Marius chuckled, though a bit forced according to Frey, and he leaned forward to look at another page. "What other creatures are there?"

Frey sighed at the next page.

"Rås."

"And... What's that?"

"Guardian spirits." Frey flipped through the multiple pages. "There are many kinds, so there are several chapters."

"Well, that roast's not done yet, so you might as well go on."

"I think the most famous one is the Skogsrå." Frey went back to the first page. "A rå that protects and resides in forests."

With fading interest, Frey kept going with just quoting the book, not needing to pay much attention but rather letting words roll off his tongue as his eyes wandered over the text. Marius had gone quiet after a while, letting Frey continue without interruption while leaning even heavier against him.

"So that's the last one of those," Frey finally concluded, turning his attention to the next chapter about The unearthly ones with yet another sigh. "And next..."

He trailed off, finally realising why Marius had gone quiet and heavier, and he couldn't help but be offended as he closed the book to glare at the sleeping man next to him.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, but didn't move away either. He supposed the closeness and Marius' calming breaths against his skin wasn't so bad, and waking him up didn't seem right. Not after him having worked so hard that day.

A fading glow soon alerted him that the fire was in need of some attention however, and he made a face before trying to lean Marius down on the couch without waking him.

To his annoyance, the tilting made Marius instinctively reach his arms out and grab around Frey, causing him to topple over as well.

"Are you trying to shove me off the couch?" Marius opened an eye to peer at Frey on top of him. "Because I will be taking you with me."

"I was trying to lay you down," Frey hissed, attempting to sit up but Marius held him tight. "So I wouldn't wake you up when I went to check on the fire after you fell asleep from my reading, you ingrate."

"Oh, has the fire gone out?" Marius leaned to the side to see better, and Frey groaned as he was consequently squeezed harder.

"It will soon enough if you don't let me go," he whispered through strained breaths, but Marius didn't seem to care.

"It's probably done by now anyway." He nuzzled against Frey's cheek. "So there's no hurry."

"Let go of me," Frey wheezed, not at all in the suffocatingly cuddly mood, and Marius surrendered at last.

"Alright." He clapped his hands together as Frey got off him. "Let's see how it turned out."

It looked appetising enough, Frey had to admit as Marius cut pieces of the roast to place them next to the chopped blend of potatoes, turnips, and carrots, but he would not get his hopes up just yet.

"Here goes." Marius held up his spoon to bump it against Frey's. "One, two, three."

They both put the spoons in their mouths, and Frey was relieved to not be dying from the taste. Though in all honesty there wasn't much taste to be found, but he'd rather have that than something inedible.

"So? What do you think?" He asked Marius once he'd swallowed, and Marius swallowed as well.

"It tastes... Bland." He made a face. "It's not bad, but with all those spices you'd think there would be a little more flavour."

Frey nodded slowly, averting his gaze as though in thought.

"... Strange."

"Frey..." Marius' tone was already reproachful, and Frey reluctantly met his stare. "... You did add spices, right?"

"The recipe didn't say anything about—"

"Really?" Marius reached over for the cookbook on the table, pointing at the list of ingredients. "You're telling me all these words are just 'roast' and a couple of vegetables?"

"That's... A different recipe," Frey tried, but eventually caved under Marius' unrelenting stare. "The spices just sound really gross, alright?"

"You must realise you've had most -if not all- these spices added to your foods over the years, right?"

"How should I know?" Frey tried to dismiss it with a shrug. "I don't cook."

"Alright, let's try to save this." Marius got up to fetch the spices. "Tell me what the recipe says, for real."

"Well, I added wine," Frey muttered as he went through the list. "A little garlic, and—"

"How little?"

Frey glared. Marius had interrupted him multiple times that day.

"A slice."

"A clove?"

"Possibly."

"That's too little anyway." Marius brought out the garlic head to peel cloves. "What else?"

"You said you don't know how to cook." Frey raised a sceptical eyebrow. "How do you know what's the correct amount?"

"I've told you my mother works at a tavern, cooking and cleaning and such, and we still talk about her job sometimes."

Frey hummed, but looked down at the recipe again while Marius added what looked to be far too much garlic to the pot.

"I didn't add thyme, allspice, or basil."

Marius sighed, but gestured to the assortment of spices.

"Pick them out."

Frey pursed his lips, but knew Marius wouldn't stop until the food was seasoned properly and Frey would rather add the appropriate ingredients than have Marius guess, so he did as he was told.

"How much of each?" Marius wanted to know, and Frey squinted at the page.

"... Until it tastes good."

"Frey."

"That's literally what it says." Frey threw his hands out. "It was the same with the dough."

"Alright." Even Marius looked frustrated at that. "What next?"

Frey grimaced, but it was too late to back out at that point.

"Brown sugar."

"You skipped sugar?"

"I don't like sweet things."

"And brown sugar?" Marius frowned. "Do we have that? Can't we use white sugar?"

"How should I know?" Frey said once again. "All I know about brown sugar is it's driving white sugar merchants up the walls since it's cheaper."

"Let's just try white, then." Marius shrugged. "Get the sugarloaf."

"And now what?" Frey's nose remained wrinkled as Marius added a much too large piece of sugar. "We let it cook even longer?"

"I think it needs to soak it up." Marius stirred the pot lightly before hanging it over the fire again. "So yeah, I would think so."

Frey sat down on the couch again. He'd never imagined cooking would take so long.

"It'll be done in no time, I'm sure." Marius joined his side, putting his arm around him, and Frey sucked in a breath through his mouth.

"You need a bath," he finally declared, and Marius removed his arm. "You need it now."

"It takes forever to prepare a bath," Marius objected. "I will not be doing that tonight."

Frey still gave him a judgemental look, so he sighed.

"I'll take one tomorrow, alright? We'll both take one."

"At least use the bin and wash the worst off," Frey nearly pleaded. "You'll be sleeping next to me and I'd like to breathe."

Marius huffed, but didn't protest, so Frey tried to smooth things over by walking over to the hearth.

"Let's see if it's done." He grabbed a pot holder to remove the lid and reached down with the ladle. "It sure smells... Better."

He blew on the ladle, trying to disregard the strong smell stinging his nose before having a taste.

Then he spat it out with a retch.

"No way," Marius protested before heading up to the hearth as well. "It can't be worse than that nothing-tasting excuse for food from before. "You're just picky."

"Fine, by all means." Frey raised his chin before handing the ladle to him. "Try it."

He waited with crossed arms as Marius took a sip of the broth, not at all surprised as the man's eye twitched.

"Well?" He raised his eyebrow. "Is it good?"

"Mmm," Marius tried through closed lips, but Frey was not fooled.

"Just admit it's bad."

"No, it's... Really good."

"So swallow it."

Marius chewed, shaking his head.

"I'm gonna savour the taste."

"Your eyes are tearing up."

"That's just... How good it is."

"Just how much of everything did you add?"

"... Enough to make it taste good? Like the recipe suggested?"

Frey clicked his tongue.

"You just poured most of it in, didn't you?"

"More or less."

"I'm assuming the 'more' part."

"Well, now we know," Marius said once he'd impressively managed to swallow it down, not without a pained expression he could never hope to hide. "More than what you added, and less than what I added."

"So we're supposed to start over?" Frey's inward whining sound made a comeback. "It's getting late."

"We'll scrape it off." Marius began scooping up the meat and vegetables onto a plate. "We didn't add it from the beginning so maybe it hasn't soaked in too much."

Frey's shoulders slouched, but he supposed it was that or nothing.

"For what it's worth, we did make a meal together." Marius kissed his cheek in passing while bringing the plate to the table. "That's nothing to scoff at."

"Barely." Frey followed him with his eyes. "It's only a meal if it's edib—"

"It's only a meal if it's edible," Marius interrupted him with the same squeaky, made up voice he'd used before, holding his hand up to pretend it was the one speaking before returning to his own voice and pointing to the hand. "That's you."

"... Do you want a repeat of the bucket incident, Marius?"

Marius opened his hand again before drawing a breath.

"Do you want a repeat of the bucket incident, Mar—"

"I'm getting the bucket."

"No, wait—"