Teatime

The scent of macarons filled the kitchen, the oven beeping to accompany the hurried thud of hooves. Valentine tugged a pair of mittens over her fingers, hiding the digits under rounded cloth patterned with intricate vines and rosebuds. Gripping the handle of the oven, Valentine braced herself for the steam as she yanked it towards her body. Warmth flooded towards her face, pressing against her cheek and neck while she waved it away with mitted hands. She needed her vision, now - needed to see the soft rainbow of colors waiting on the pan. Her hand on the oven handle released, reaching for the treasure and pulling the steaming cookies from their heated resting place. With bated breath, Val leaned closer to inspect each individual one; gently nudging them with her mitts and peeking at the underside for any scorching. No - Valentine was rewarded with only a few delicate cracks and a perfectly pleasant tray of cookies. She allowed herself to breathe, then, hovering for a few moments over the pan with a grateful silence.

After those few seconds of grace had passed, Valentine slipped a pink spatula from the jar of utensils and twisted it comfortably into place on the baking tray. With a delicate, patient hand, she managed to pry each cookie up and into the tupperware she’d set aside. A few rows at a time, the macarons fled the baking sheet for their new, cozy home - perhaps drawn to the flowers that decorated its roof like shingles. Once every last one had been moved, Valentine neatly pulled her mitts from her hands and tucked them into a drawer, wanting her digits in order to make the daunting task of the lid easier on her. Dove was waiting on her, after all. What sort of guest would she be to show up with nothing but an empty tupperware and a floor of cookies and crumbs? It wasn’t a fate Valentine wished upon either of them, so a secure lid was a non-negotiable.

Once she was out of the house (accomplished only after a dozen goodbyes to the residents who saw her off and at least thrice the amount of kisses to her lovers), the journey ahead was hardly as daunting as making the macarons had been. The walk to Jackal’s was familiar, accented by thumps along the gravel roads and dirt paths. Distant rummaging of wild imps in the foliage hardly registered to Val, her eyes only briefly flitting in their direction. The soft glow of crystals overhead lit the path with an evening haze, flickering between tree leaves and dotting stretches of dirt like drink stains on a carpet. The scent of the macarons glided with her, traveling like a companion in welcome silence. It gave her time to think. Time to consider what she wanted to discuss with Dove before the topic was present with both of them. The distant chattering of imps accompanied each second of pondering, her mind clearing to make way for their conversation. It wasn’t as though Dove was difficult to talk to - not at all, actually. Valentine always enjoyed their talks… It was just the questions Val had prepared for them that weighed so heavily.

Regardless of the weight she might have borne, Valentine arrived at the home of Jackal and Dove no slower than any other trip she’d made before. Her fist instinctively extended to knock against the door, the sound filling the area too loudly for Valentine’s ears. Maybe she’d been too excited - nervous? Whatever the feeling, it had been a bit too prominent for her knuckles to enjoy. She had no free hand to soothe them with, only able to wipe them against her shirt as though the pain would fall away as easily as a crumb or dusting of dirt. Her eyes drifted down briefly before a spillage of light forced them back upwards, the opening door in front of her washing her in the yellowish-glow of the overheads. Blocking a bit of the illumination was Dove, the smile on their face almost casting its own light.

“Val! Come in, I was just getting everything ready!”

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of tea and pastries. The warmth of it was welcoming, Val's soft breathing bringing in another waft and soothing down her worries. Her hand seemed to remember what it was holding, the feeling of the tupperware suddenly present as she looked towards Dove and the countertops for an appropriate solution.

“Do you want this anywhere specific-?” The question barely made it out before Dove's hands had extended, their smile shining all the brighter. 

“I’ll take it for you! You didn’t have to bring anything, you know… Oh, but these smell so delicious!”

Once the table was set and both were seated across from each other with full plates and cups, Valentine’s eyes trailed to the teapot Dove had brandished mere moments before. It was an intricate thing, the lid and bottom trim a delicate white encasing the powdery blue of the main body. The clouds seemed painted on, skillfully lined with a deeper blue and swirling across a peaceful sky. It was an image Valentine had seen in a few storybooks, before - the ones she read to Julie at night to calm the Sweetinea down. A sky wasn’t something Burrowgatory had, but she was sure she had heard somewhere that cherubuns had seen such a thing. The concept was larger than life to Valentine, inspiring awe and questions that she had to shove down each time she saw another implication.

“I love your teapot, have I ever told you? It’s so pretty… I don’t think we have anything like it at home. It’s like looking at a picture in a book.” Valentine blew on her tea after she finished speaking, taking her first sip and ignoring her watering eyes. It would have probably been wise to blow on her drink for a bit longer, but curiosity she was handling only made her giddy. Dove perked up, their own eyes following hers to the teapot after they had lifted their own cup to their lips.

“Oh, thank you..! I guess it does feel like that, now. I remember being able to look up and see practically a mirror-image of it before..! Not that I’m not happy here, of course… It’s just new.. Exciting..!” Dove’s voice was nostalgic for a moment, their fingers tracing along the handle of their tea cup as they spoke. There was a peak at the end, though - a burst of happiness and contentment that Valentine couldn’t mistake. She wondered if she would have been able to be as happy as Dove was if she had left behind everything she knew in the way they had - it must have been hard. Yet the joy on Dove’s face was genuine; soft and hopeful in the way it always had been. Valentine took another sip after a few moments of blowing, giving her time to think. Dove was different from the other cherubuns in their own way, of course. Curious, but not in the scientific, dismissive way of Beanny; virtuous, but not in the overbearing way Primrose often had about him. Val couldn’t help but be enamored by it - invested in a life she’d never known.

“I’m glad you’re happy here, Dove - and I’ve heard just how brave you were… How brave you always are. I think if it was me, I would… Miss my old home too much. I would always want to go back, even if I knew it was bad for me. But you - you just seem so excited and happy to be free… I know it sounds strange, maybe, but,” Valentine paused, her eyes glancing away as she thought over her next words, “I’ve been… Thinking recently. Thinking of everyone in the Heavenly Embassy. Of cherubuns… How different your lives are - were. I was thinking… I want to help somehow. Learn more about it. I was thinking about… Well, maybe… Helping out in the greenhouse? I know you get your tea leaves there, so I figured you might know a bit more about it and what all I’d need to do.”

Dove’s eyes were practically sparkling, their smile infectious and waving away the doubts Val had felt. The idea that Dove would dislike the idea slipped away as easily as it had initially arrived, the clap of their hands scaring it back into the hole it had come from.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful! I know Primrose would be so delighted - he’s always looking for help in the Embassy!” Valentine briefly doubted the idea of Primrose being delighted, but didn’t press on the topic. She let herself smile instead, resuming her tea with burning cheeks… And perhaps a burnt tongue.

“You can count me in, then. I’ll do my best! It would be nice to learn what kind of tea they grow, too! But for now, I guess it would probably be a good idea to finish this… Could you pass me a macaron, please?”