Chapter 57: Interlude: Bran's Muffins

Chapter 57: Interlude: Bran's Muffins

“What’s wrong Bran?”

Bran pulled up the covers as Opal nestled into his chest. He sighed mightily and held her tight. She curled his beard while he thought for a moment and answered.

“I’m bored, Opal.”

“Not with me, I hope?” Opal joked. “But you have lost a bit of your spark lately. What happened? Do any of the new inmates have you down? Do I need to spike someone’s drink with laxative until they get the picture?”

Opal pulled violently at his moustache and he tickled her viciously until she stopped.

They paused for a moment and caught their breath, gasping the astringent medicinal air in Opal’s cabin.

“No need ta take it that far, and besides tha new crop are just fine. No, the problem is the old crew.”

“I think I see.” Opal flopped onto her back and held a hand up to the ceiling. “You’ve seen the sky, and you want to reach for it.”

“Aye. I didn’t realise it before, Opal, but I’ve outgrown this camp. I’m tired of makin’ sandwiches fer recalcitrant dwarves. I’m sick o’ stew, and I’ve had enough o’ erdroot. When I was cookin’ with Pete, I felt more alive than I had in years.” Bran’s eyes looked far into a distance only he could see. “I want to cook more fascinatin’ things, and make dishes no dwarf has ever seen before.”

Bran grew animated as he spoke, and as he shone brighter and brighter, Opal grew more and more dour. She could see where this was going.

“You want to leave.”

Her voice was flat. It wasn’t a question.

"I love ya Opal, and I’ll always love ya, but you know yer family will never accept a middlin’ Blessed o’ Aaron fer their daughter. I need to make a name fer myself.”

“What if I told you I don’t care what my family thinks. That Bran the prison cook is dwarf enough for me.” Opal ran a finger down his chest, and he laughed.

“Yer father will roll right over, though yer mum might have some words. But it’s not them I’m worried about. It’s me, love, I want to be worthy of tha’ future Noble, Doctor Opal.”

“If you think you aren’t good enough Bran, that’s not true at all!” Opal flushed with anger, and Bran smiled. Her passion was one of the reasons he loved her so. Her love of his baking was simply another.

“Doesn’t matter what either of us think. I can see it, Opal. I’ve gone as far as I can in this mine.”

Opal held him tight, and the two of them shared a passionate kiss. The roots of this story extend from novell bìn origin.

She broke apart first. “You can run away, Bran Hurler, but you’ll never be able to hide from me.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

—

Bran strode down the aisles of the Grand Market, looking to and fro for any interesting ingredients, spices, or confections. There were myriad odds and ends, but nothing that came close to the wonders he’d seen in the past few months with Pete. Between the tarts, the eclairs, and the meringue, Pete's basic recipes were a veritable fount of inspiration for scrumptious new delicacies. Bran sighed. He’d grown far too complacent in the mine and hadn’t realised it until Pete widened his horizons.

Opal said Pete was headed to Annie Goldstone’s brewery, but he had no idea where that was. There weren’t too many breweries in the city, so he could just search them out one by one, but he wasn’t even sure that was the correct path in the first place.

Bran blinked, the rainbow kaleidoscope behind his eyelids setting off new star-bursts of pain. Of course this would happen right as he was starting a new path in life. If this was how the Gods answered every prayer, it made sense that most considered it a last resort. He was just as stuck now as before, except with an excruciating headache.

Perhaps this wasn’t the right moment. Maybe it was a sign that he wasn’t meant to... Bran paused as a figure appeared before him.

“Pete?” As his sight cleared, the familiar figure resolved itself in his vision. “Is that you?”

“Bran?”

—

“Hey everyone! This is Bran!” Pete announced to everyone in the mess hall.

“Hello, Bran.”

“Hey.”

“Nice to meetcha!”

“Good to see you again Bran!”

“More mouths to feed...”

“NO! Not you, Penelope! Someone grab her before she says hello!"

The Thirsty Goat was incredibly welcoming, at least after Annie finished grilling Pete about something.

The mess hall was spacious, and reminded him a bit of the cafeteria back in the prison. Except for the mural of a drunk goat taking up an entire wall. That was different.

Annie stepped forward. “Pete and I have been running the numbers, and I've come to a decision. With dad's blessing, Bran here is going to take over the kitchen. I think the success of our recent party showed that the first step to bring back this brewery is getting more people drinking our beer. The easiest way to do that will be to turn this underutilised eating space into a full-time pub. Pete has gotten the pro drinkers to agree to come and use the Thirsty Goat for their meetups, and with the current climate in the city, that is going to bring us a lot of attention.”

She nodded at Pete, who gave an odd gesture with two thumbs up.

“Bran is an amazing cook, and we’re hoping that some of his dishes will turn the Thirsty Goat into a hot new place to eat. Pete said he has some other ideas to drum up business, so we will hopefully be very busy soon. Balin, we are going to need a lot more chairs; get to work on that. John, Johnsson, Richter, we still have over a dozen empty fermentation tanks; you’ll need to work double time. We’ve got about two weeks to get ready while the first batch of wort ferments, so get to it!”

Bran watched as everyone dashed off to work, then headed into the kitchen. A few minutes later he called over the blue-haired Aqua to begin making orders.

He was finally ready, and he knew just where to start. He grabbed a few carrots that were set aside for Penelope and began shaving them. Pete once described something called ‘muffins’ and he was eager to try. With his own twist of course. Maybe some roasted honeyed nuts, or candied carrots.

*Bing*

Your heart of hard work and innovation have caught the attention of Barck. He wishes to grant you his Blessing. If you accept, you will gain a Title.

Do you accept?

Yes/ No

Bran smiled as he mentally hit ‘yes’. It looked like he finally had his sign.