Nova's Diligence (PT6)

Nova’s mouth is slightly agape as it often is at any of the rooms in the Heavenly Embassy, Primrose could show him the bathroom and he’d have the same reaction. 

“So…” He nervously drifts a little closer, head spinning as the smell of Primrose’s vanilla cologne gets stronger, “What exactly are we doing today?” 

Prim’s eyes flick up to meet Nova’s as he pushes the ornate doors shut and flicks on the light, all the bits, bobs, and bottles full of mystery liquid fizzle and bubble, “The final step.”

“...”

That was utterly unhelpful. Nova’s ears twitch for a moment as that hangs in the air. Trying to not stare at Primrose too incredulously, “... Of?”

“Ev-... Everything we’ve been doing!!” Primrose raises his voice only a little, clearly ruffled and pouting at Nova with a mixture of irritation and disappointment at his dramatics not landing.

Nova felt his face go pink, “Sorry! Just-“ He gestures to everything in the room, “I’m not sure what any of this has to do with the flowers we picked—“ 

Nova takes a moment to actually glance around, eyes starting to linger on the more elaborate containers and contraptions, “Oh, we’re going to process the flowers.”

“Yes! Come on now, your batch should be there,” Primrose points to a big shelf with cubbies filled with baskets containing a multitude of different batches of flowers. 

Just when Nova was about to ask ‘where?’ Prim busied himself elsewhere, grabbing a pitcher of water and shuffling through cabinets.

“…” Anxiously Nova approaches the towering shelf display, tapping his chin as his eyes bounce cubby to cubby. His flowers were white with a slight iridescent sheen to them, sparkled a little. Four petals? Five? Shit.  He looks over his shoulder at Primrose, seemingly still busy setting up whatever it is they’re going to do.

“Why are there so many baskets here set up like this?” Nova decides to just ask, it seems all very purposeful.

Primrose raises his head, “Well, you’re not the only person I’m doing this with—“

“What?” Nova turns around fully, not expecting that. … Admittedly he assumed he was special. He ignores the childish pang of hurt that swells in his heart. Primrose is a grown man, a busy cherubun with a very important duty to support his kind. Like Hell is he going to start something petty because of his crush. That would be super embarrassing, so whatever ounce of jealousy he has fizzles away. 

“Yes!” He smiles, sounding proud, “There are many succubuns who I take through this process. I believe it is important to share our cultures and values,” He grabs a knife and holds it ridgedly, “Come on. Bring the flowers here.” Uhhh… Nova hastily grabs a basket he’s eighty-five percent sure is his, having to stand on the tips of his hooves to reach. When he sets the basket down Primrose doesn’t make a comment about him grabbing the wrong flowers, so he relaxes. The sparkles twinkling besides Nova calm as he stops being so tense. 

“Right,” Primrose said, drawing Nova’s attention back to the task at hand. “First, we need to separate the petals from the stems. The petals will be used for the drinks, and the stems’ sap is for the ambrosia.” Nova nodded, his fingers gently caressing the soft petals of his flowers. “How should I cut them?” All he really knows how to do is dice onions and carrots,  work like this isn’t his forte.

“Like this,” Primrose demonstrated, picking up one of the flowers from Nova’s basket. With amazing precision,  Prim used the knife to slice through the stem just below the base of the petals. The flower head came away smoothly, the petals still perfectly intact. “See? Easy.” 

Nova does in fact pick up the hint of smugness hidden beneath all of Primrose’s elegant, beautiful, shiny ‘professionalism.’ He wonders if Primrose would actually enjoy some of the fun power dynamics of BDSM– anyways. Nova’s wings flutter as he shifts closer, “Yeah, looks easy enough…” He carefully picks up a knife and cutting board of his own.

Nova mimicked Primrose’s actions, a little clumsily at first because he’s being overly cautious of the flower. Primrose chuckled, a soft, melody-like sound that made Nova’s heart skip a beat. “Good, good. Now, we’ll pluck the petals and set them aside. Be gentle; we don’t want to bruise them.”

Nova works alongside Primrose, carefully pulling the petals from the flower heads. Each petal was placed within a big bowl, their iridescent sheen catching the light. 

“They’re colored similar to the little stars that follow you,” Primrose finally spoke, breaking the steady quiet between them. Nova just smiles like a goof, wings fluttering again. He prays that Prim hasn’t caught on to what that means, “Thank you,” Nova says pleasantly. 

Once all the petals were separated, Primrose moved on to the stems. “We need to extract the sap from these. It's delicate work, so watch closely.” He picked up a stem and, using a small, sharp knife, made a precise incision along its length. He squeezed gently, and a clear, thick sap began to ooze out. “This sap here is what we’ll boil for the ambrosia. It’s very potent, so don’t get it in your eyes or mouth!”

Nova followed suit, making a similar incision in his stem. He was careful not to cut too deeply, remembering Primrose’s instruction. As the sap began to flow, he collected it in the same glass vial that Prim has been using. All the gooey sap is quite weighty now, Nova wonders how much of it they’ll actually use.

“Perfect,” Primrose said, inspecting Nova’s work. 

“Thanks,” Nova said, feeling a flush of pride as his tail swished happily. 

Next, Primrose showed Nova how to dry the leaves. “We’ll use these for the powdered ambrosia. Lay them out flat like this.” He demonstrated, spreading the leaves on a wire rack. “They need to dry completely before we can grind them into powder with the petals”  Primrose slips the leave rack into a device that must be a divine oven, or something similar. The oven door clicks closed once the rack slides into place. A warm, heating glow ruminating from behind the tempered glass.

“So.. What’s the difference between the leaf-based and sap-based ambrosia?” Nova naturally asks, he just assumes it so things don’t go to waste; but the end results are around the same.

“We use the sap for a special base for the seasonal ambrosia– different flavors and such. But we won't be making that for today, so we're only using a little.” Ah! Alright, explains why Prim is storing it away then,  only collecting a small portion for this batch.

With the sap stored and the leaves now dried with the rack cooled, Primrose began preparing the leaves for the drink. “We’re going to mash these into a pulp. Here, use this mortar and pestle.” He handed the tools to Nova, who accepted them a little eagerly.  He started grinding the leaves, watching as they broke down into a fragrant, colorful pulp combtained with the petals. Ugh his arms hurt. Primrose added a little water and sugar, that tiniest vial of the sap, and together they mixed it until it reached a smooth consistency.

Finally, Primrose turned to an even tinier vial filled with… Nova isn’t sure what. But it glows like lively gold, maybe captured crystal-light?

“And now, for my secret touch.” He carefully measured a few drops into a larger container. “This is also incredibly potent, so we must dilute it properly. Watch closely.” Primrose added water, stirring gently. The mystery ingredient transformed, shimmering with an otherworldly light that was yet so gentle.

“This,” Primrose said, “is what makes ambrosia truly special.”

Nova takes a moment to stare in awe, “Do we add the flower pulp to that?” He points between the two containers. Prim nods in response, “Go ahead, take that funnel.”

Nova picked up the funnel and positioned it over the shimmering mixture. Carefully, he poured the bowl of the silky leaf liquid into the funnel, watching as it slowly made its way into the container. The pulp seemed to dance and merge with the glowing liquid, creating a mesmerizing swirl of colors. Primrose observed, his eyes crinkling with satisfaction. “Excellent, Nova. Now, we need to stir it gently to ensure everything blends perfectly.” Ooughh Nova may faint.

Nova fumbled around to grab the daintiest and longest spoon he’s ever seen in his life and began to stir.  His movements careful and deliberate just as ordered.  The mixture began to thicken slightly, the colors becoming even more vibrant before calming and settling on a pale yellow.

"That’s ambrosia?”

“That’s ambrosia.”