An alternate-universe[AU] continuation of this
Cya had in her possession an uncomfortable and flappy Hunting-Hawk.

She’d considered the possibility of getting her hands on the Administration of Addergoole before, but in none of her situations had she ended up with a mostly-willing Luca Hunting-Hawk sitting at her kitchen table, cutting up fruit for a tart like a normal Kept.

Cya was in over her head and she knew it. He wasn’t a kid. He didn’t need…

Everyone needed something. She pushed aside her pastry – handy having a Kept who could steal all the heat out of her marble rolling surface for her – and sat down across from Luke.

“Tell me,” she began, and quashed the surge of guilt she still got for forcing answers out, “what do you need?”

He mantled. She’d have laughed about it, except he clearly was trying to control it and failing, which was kind of nerve-wracking and a little sad. “I need a bigger knife.”

He’d dismantled seventeen peaches into paper-thin slices. She was going to have to can peaches, or bake pies for the entire neighborhood. “I think you’ve cut enough peaches.”

He pushed the knife over to her. “I don’t need anything. I was just fine…”

“Tell you what.” She made her voice gentle. He might have centuries on her, but she knew this particular dance far better than he did. “I’ll ask you again in a week. For now…” She eyed the pile of peaches. “Why don’t you get the sugar, cornstarch and lemon juice, and I’ll start on a few more pie crusts.”

There was always something with the pie, every time.

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