(WWS) Hot Chocolate, G (Trade Winds)
Jul 2, 2020 12:03:09 GMT 10
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Post by mistrali on Jul 2, 2020 12:03:09 GMT 10
Series: Trade Winds
Title: Hot Chocolate
Rating: G
Event: Seasons (Summer/Winter) Triathlon
Words: 200.
Summary: (including warnings): Daja and Polyam enjoy a hot drink. Warnings: None (except that I take no responsibility for chocolate and/or chilli cravings as a result of reading this fic).
Other Notes: The cups are made of bone china.
**********
Taking the chocolate carefully off the flame, Polyam used a small silver ladle to divide it into two tiny white cups decorated with plum blossoms. The vessel, unadorned and made of a silver-and-tin alloy, tapered beautifully to a spout.
“They’re ceramic with bone ash ground in,” said Polyam, seeing Daja’s gaze linger on them. “From Qidao, in southern Yanjing. They almost beat Tsaw’ha for haggling.” She held her steaming cup in both hands, sipped, and closed her eye.
Awed - Polyam must have done some very fine negotiation, to be able to afford such treasures - Daja followed suit and frowned. A fiery aftertaste underscored the bitterness.
“Is there cinnamon in this?” she guessed. But that wasn’t right. Cinnamon didn’t leave burning flecks on her tongue…
“Ginger?”
“Chilli!” exulted Polyam, her eye shining. “From the caravan, at twelve gold astrels a pound. Don’t make me remind you how much zokin we owe you,” she said, when Daja opened her mouth to protest. “It would be impolite, when you’re enjoying our hospitality.”
Daja grinned - three years hadn’t tempered Polyam’s bluntness - and savoured her second sip. It was wonderful to be in a Trader caravan, surrounded by cool night breezes and rustling canvas.
Title: Hot Chocolate
Rating: G
Event: Seasons (Summer/Winter) Triathlon
Words: 200.
Summary: (including warnings): Daja and Polyam enjoy a hot drink. Warnings: None (except that I take no responsibility for chocolate and/or chilli cravings as a result of reading this fic).
Other Notes: The cups are made of bone china.
**********
Taking the chocolate carefully off the flame, Polyam used a small silver ladle to divide it into two tiny white cups decorated with plum blossoms. The vessel, unadorned and made of a silver-and-tin alloy, tapered beautifully to a spout.
“They’re ceramic with bone ash ground in,” said Polyam, seeing Daja’s gaze linger on them. “From Qidao, in southern Yanjing. They almost beat Tsaw’ha for haggling.” She held her steaming cup in both hands, sipped, and closed her eye.
Awed - Polyam must have done some very fine negotiation, to be able to afford such treasures - Daja followed suit and frowned. A fiery aftertaste underscored the bitterness.
“Is there cinnamon in this?” she guessed. But that wasn’t right. Cinnamon didn’t leave burning flecks on her tongue…
“Ginger?”
“Chilli!” exulted Polyam, her eye shining. “From the caravan, at twelve gold astrels a pound. Don’t make me remind you how much zokin we owe you,” she said, when Daja opened her mouth to protest. “It would be impolite, when you’re enjoying our hospitality.”
Daja grinned - three years hadn’t tempered Polyam’s bluntness - and savoured her second sip. It was wonderful to be in a Trader caravan, surrounded by cool night breezes and rustling canvas.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!