melodiesoflife | C is for Cookie (and Chrom)

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C is for Cookie (and Chrom)

WHO: Chrom, OPEN!
WHAT: Despite not knowing much about the holiday traditions, Chrom takes up the job of Santa Clause. It affects him in strange new ways.
WHEN: December 1st - 7th
WHERE: House B-12, and around Aqures Ixen

Housemates Prompt:December 1st
Given how observant his housemates were, Chrom's awakening was obvious: his footsteps were the heaviest when he went down the stairs, always at the same time. He showered, he groomed himself, he dressed, and then he went down to breakfast.

This time, however, there was the light tinkling of a bell that resounded with each heavy step...heavier than usual, actually.

And that was when Chrom emerged, decked out in a red suit trimmed with white fur, glossy black boots...and a beard and spectacles? That beard actually seemed pretty real. But unlike most beards, it was thick and soft where it curled down to the middle of his chest, and just a little bit on the blue side.

Honestly, he had no idea why this place made a habit of sticking him in the most garish and eye-catching regalia he'd ever seen, but he supposed he couldn't complain. Instead he went to the icebox to retrieve the carton of milk. Somehow, nothing else would do. The fruit, bread, and hard cheese he normally ate just didn't seem appetizing. A little strange, but he didn't think much of it. And yet, there was still something decidedly lacking. It wasn't often that he was hungry, but didn't know what he was hungry for, but this was definitely one of those times.

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Aqures Ixen: December 1st - 7th
Behold! Santa Chrom had come to town! The thick red velvet and white fur trim was surprisingly warm. He tromped through the snow without fear of losing his footing, and he didn't feel the slightest hint of a chill despite being without a cloak of any sort. A few kids stopped dead in their tracks and stared, mouths wide open, and he offered an awkward wave as their little heads slowly pivoted to follow his every movement.

He was certainly growing popular with the little ones, he supposed.

Chrom made his way toward the weapons store, as he usually did when new shipments were due to arrive, just to see if there was anything that might prove useful. Particularly in the 'sword' department. But before he could greet the merchant, a sweet, spiced aroma tickled at his senses. What was that? Cinnamon? Ginger? He wasn't sure, but his stomach growled intensely. Milk wasn't the most satisfying breakfast, he had to admit, so maybe a sweetbread was what he'd been craving.

Instinctively, he seemed to know where to go. He moved down the sidewalk, eyes bright and alert, and he was steadily drawn to the bakery. Walking through the door, his gaze immediately fell to the tray of cookies, just seconds out of the oven, being transferred to a wire rack to cool.

"Welcome," the plump woman said with a kindly smile. "What can I get you?"

"How much are those?" he nodded at the cookies, unable to take his eyes off of the crisp brown disks. "How much for all of them?"

She stared at him. There was a sort of cheerful desperation in his voice that he couldn't deny. He should have been ashamed, but he was already reaching for his moneypurse.

* * * * *

From that day onward, Chrom stopped by the bakery every morning, and was scarcely seen without a stash of cookies hooked to his belt. Gods, he was as bad as Gaius, but at least he thought he could understand his thieving comrade a little better now.

What was this one now, he wondered, turning the cookie in his hand. Chocolate chip and walnut? He bit into it and sighed with contentment. It was the most splendid thing he'd ever had.

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"This morning," he answered, his hand rising almost instinctively to stroke the beard when she mentioned it. He could scarcely believe it was real himself, but he definitely felt the faint pressure in his chin when he smoothed the beard down. "Kulevi came in through the window. She seemed so excited about it, it was hard to say no."

She would have guilt tripped him into donning the job if she'd had to. Kulevi was very excited about the holiday season and stirring up interest in the Santa Village.

"Speaking of Esdham, I hear people dress up like this and fight as a holiday tradition. Is that true?" It was hard to believe if it was. But he was recently enrolled with the military and needed to be down there anyway. Maybe he'd participate, to see if he was still worth his salt as a warrior while wearing this ridiculous outfit.

Robin and Marc, being two peas in a pod, had an understanding: some jobs simply weren't for the tactician. She liked to use jobs where she could define her tactical role carefully and support others. Marc had learned to not bother too much for some; however, Marc was also a tactician of sorts.

"I heard that," she said, with a nod -- and a slight sigh. No helping it, because Chrom had agreed to it. Besides, this job would certainly prove useful. No new job had proven useless.

"I've never seen that, but I think I'd like to," she admitted. "It sounds... fun, somehow."

"Would you care to sign up?" he offered with a smile. "You don't necessarily need the job. Just the costume. They might have double or team matches." Then again, seeing her fight one on one was a possibility as well. He knew all too well how good she was at holding her own.

But that depended upon which jobs she was wielding.

"It's certainly a strange tradition, but I suppose if it brings joy to the masses, so be it."

"Oh, certainly!" Robin said. She grinned, then. Far be it from Robin to ever say no to fighting at his side; there was something appealing about it. She could tell herself that it was because they made a good team -- they read each other well, they knew what the other often intended, and they balanced out their weaknesses. But, the truth was it went deeper than that.

"I think it'd be wise," she said. "And I admit the clothes look stylish. Maybe it's not the Job for me, but..."

Her grin only grew. "...I do love my coats." She wore that big one back home; now, she tended to wear the heavy green coat of a Scholar or the stylish Red Mage coat. What was a new one?

Besides. It looked warm.

Chrom chuckled, fists rested casually on his hips as he bowed his head. "You're signing up for the sake of a new coat? Ha ha...!" He doubted that was the only reason, knowing her.

He found himself looking forward to the competition more than ever now. Surely they had many costumed warriors to duel in the arena, but had they ever had a Mr. and Mrs. Clause sign up as a team? ...Well, probably, but he doubted they were on par with Robin and himself.

"Will you be sporting a beard as well?" He had to ask. It probably wasn't safe to pose a question like that, but Chrom couldn't help himself.

"It's a very good reason!" Robin said brightly, her smile unwavering. It was funny, but they both knew that she would enter for other reasons. She had fought beside him a great deal, after all. But then...

Then he asked about a beard.

"No!" she said, with a frown. She looked to the side and sighed. What was it? Was she just one of his friends to him? (Nevermind that she thought, sometimes, that was how they should see one another!) She shook her head. "First, I am a lady, Chrom, unless you haven't had your eyes checked. I would prefer to dress up in a way that reflects that! Secondly!"

She held a finger up next to her head. "If we're going as Mr. and Mrs. Claus, then I have to be your wife--"

Robin clamped a hand over her mouth and turned scarlet. She quickly looked away, eyes drifting from Chrom to the floor. The lovely, creaky boards of the floor. That seemed like a place worthy of the tactician's attention.

She lowered her hand, then muttered. "Or... or your sister or aunt or... something, I suppose."

For a man who had grown up with two very feminine sisters, one would think that Chrom had a better understanding of how the female mind worked.

He did not.

Robin, in particular, was a mystery to him. He'd been listening out of curiosity to see what this second point entailed, already tickled at her vigorous objection to not wearing a beard. Then she started blushing. What for? Something had definitely changed her mood, and he wasn't sure if that was good, or bad. Maybe it was both.

"Aunt Clause?" Was there one of those? At least he had enough common sense not to say that she could probably get away with looking older because of her white hair.

"Whatever you think is best, of course, but..." But what was going on in her head? No matter how well they could read one another on the battlefield, he was clueless the moment they put down their arms.

"...Yes, I'm sure Aunt Clause will work just fine," Robin grumbled. She folded her arms over her chest and sighed. Alas, once she got rankled, she didn't think to explain why she was. Though, it lessened the embarrassment a little. The tactician sighed, then she hung her head.

"We'll do well, I'm sure," she concluded, before she looked back up at him. "Make sure you let me know the capabilities of the Job. It will help with planning a strategy."

Of course, she reasoned, he might need some practice with it.

...Was she angry? She seemed angry. He stood uncertainly, poised in preparation to cover his head just in case she started throwing things at him again. But too his relief, she sighed and relaxed, and the tension in his legs and arms faded.

Now that they were discussing battle strategy, he felt a bit more at ease. "Of course," he nodded. "Right now there isn't much. I know if someone's on a list that marks them as naughty or nice, and I can shrink myself down to fit into small places. I'm not sure spreading joy and storing an infinite number of items into one bag will help much on the battlefield, however. I've still got my paladin job, so wielding a sword remains my primary means of offense."

"Infinite number of items?"

She heard the rest of what Chrom said, of course. But what Robin latched onto was the bag full of infinite items. She could see a number of options -- and far beyond as many vulneraries as they might ever want. "I think I can do something with that," she said. "If only I had the Alchemist Job..."

He recognized that spark of intelligence that lit up her face, the same one that always preceded one of her brilliant battle strategies. He hadn't thought the bag of items would be of much use, but clearly Robin saw things differently.

"Alchemy? I don't quite follow," he blinked, curious to know what it was she had in mind. Surely it would become clear if she were to explain. "Is there a particular skill that lends itself well to this?"

"There is!"

She lit up, at least figuratively. The faux pas of a moment before was forgotten; Robin stumbled onto a tactic, and even if she didn't have an alchemist's abilities now, she could later. "You see, there are offensive items in Crystallis, Chrom! They use elemental effects, oftentimes. Produce a fireball, call down a bolt of lightning. They're expensive and most of us can only carry so many on our person, of course."

She didn't say the "but," but it was there.

"A bag that can hold infinite items, though..." She grinned. "Why, we'd never run out! The tactical flexibility would be incredible!"

Enlightenment began to dawn on Chrom's face as well, and he put a gloved hand to his chin in thought. "You're right. I had thought the job of a Santa Clause would be rather ill-suited for combat, but with access to items like that, it could easily change the situation. I'm sure it would be unexpected to foes as well, given that there's no particular weapon specialization that comes with the job."

But...

"You said it's expensive, though. Where would we raise the funds to create these items?"

"Mm-hmm! Exactly," Robin said. But... Chrom raised a fine point. It cost money -- and a lot of Robin's spare cash went to the Christmas Village this year. She considered, before she shook her head.

"An alchemist could make them, but we can't do that," she said. "However... I think, rather than spending our money on it -- and we may not have enough anyways -- we'll need to innovate. I have some ideas there. Cheaper options."

She glanced at the kitchen. "I might need to start baking soon."

Chrom blinked. He was able to follow most of that, but the leap from 'cheaper alchemy' to 'baking'? Right over his blue-haired head.

"Er...baking?"

And yet, the very thought of freshly baked goods pricked at the back of his mind, kindling a keen interest he couldn't begin to explain or understand. All he knew was that he wanted to try Robin's baking almost desperately. But if he said that, she might pull a Sully, and accuse him of being a chauvinist. He did not wish to be beaten upside the head with thrown objects.

"Baking what, exactly?"

"You'll see!"

Robin waved her hand up, and then started towards her room. She grinned -- eagerly -- and then walked forward, as she considered.

"I know Aderian mentioned something about it in his tome," she murmured to herself, as she made her way towards the door.

Chrom was officially worried. He'd always known recipes to come from cookbooks, not tomes. He might have to warn Morgan and Pyrrha about this, but. For now, he'd put his trust in the tactician and hope that 'baking' wasn't literal.

It'd be a while until she emerged from her research in either case, so he'd best set out on his errands now. He tugged on his gloves, picked up his moneypurse, and set out to town.

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C is for Cookie (and Chrom)

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want to end hereabouts? I can reveal her baked goods in the follow-up. >:)

Shit, I'm scared. YES.