Cooking With Grayfia (Patreon)

As he followed the clack of Grayfia-nee’s heels, Ichigo stared with some minor marvel as he took in the sight of the magnificent kitchen. It wasn’t some small space one would find in the average home; no, the Silver Queen’s personal cooking space was a massive space that could easily hold over a hundred people if needed. Filled with numerous stoves, grills and table tops and all sorts of other cooking appliances which Ichigo couldn’t even name. In fact, he was quite sure many of them didn’t even exist in the Human world.

“Come, come,” she said impatiently as he lagged behind, “We haven’t got all day.”

He hurried behind her and as they came to a corner of the kitchen, Ichigo shyly rubbed the back of his head and said, “Thanks for taking the time for these cooking lessons, Grayfia-nee.”

She looked over her shoulder and gave him a kind smile. “Of course. Young Devils these days never take the time to master the fine art of cuisine and gastronomy. It’s all servants this and order that. Wouldn’t survive five minutes outside their castles, I’m sure.”

He gave a low chuckle as they rounded the corner and, as Ichigo gazed upon all the ingredients lying ready, Grayfia-nee turned on her heels and gave a single clap. “Right, Nether Onion Soup – can you tell me what the most crucial component of this dish would be?”

He gave her a blank look. “Uhh… the onions?”

Her red lips frowned sharply. “Don’t be silly, Ichigo, it’s the stock.”

His mouth parted, but he quickly shut it and just silently nodded along. Because, of course, how silly of him. Why on earth would he think that onions were the most important ingredient in an onion soup?

“To that end,” she continued and motioned towards a tray filled with bones and a large cut of meat, “we’re going to be making beef stock. For this dish in particular, I have found that either Minoan or Apis bulls have the best consistency and flavor. Apollon, Mithraic and Krishnan cattle are also acceptable substitutes. Though the latter you’ll only be able to find on the black market, Krishna is strongly opposed to the consumption and slaughter of his sacred cattle. Unlike Apollo and Mithras who are sensible capitalists.”

“Right…” Ichigo said mildly, having no interest whatsoever in provoking international outrage for a soup of all things. He’d rather just go and get normal beef from the local supermarket.

“Now, one thing I do want to point out, Ichigo – note that many of the bones have marrow?”

And Ichigo leaned over and peered closely at the large, assorted bones and, indeed, saw the whitish-gray goop within the cut bones.

“The marrow adds an incredible amount of flavor, so always look out for those kinds of pieces when selecting bones for a stock. Also, you see the ankles and feet, yes? The collagen in the tendons and ligaments helps make the broth more gelatinous,” she said firmly. “Well, we might as well begin now.”

And with that, Grayfia-nee walked to a stool next to a kitchen isle, primly sat herself down and conjured a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. Ichigo suddenly had a bad feeling; he was always put into uncomfortable situations when his former Queen started drinking.

She took a quick sip and then delicately pointed with her chin, “Grab a tray and put some baking paper down. After that, space out the bones, lightly season them with some salt and drizzle them with some olive oil – it’s right there on the shelf – and then go roast them in the oven.”

He stared confused at the sudden rapid commands, to which she swirled the dark liquid in her glass and raised a questioning eyebrow. “What? Were you expecting me to do all the cooking for you, young man?”

“No, no!” He said quickly while waving his hands simultaneously. “You know me, I learn best with hands on experience.”

“Hmm, then get to it.”

And so he did. Rather deftly, Ichigo followed her instructions and, as he slid the bones into the oven, he turned to her and asked somewhat hesitantly, “So, uhh, how long do I roast them for and at what temperature?”

Taking a light sip, she said, “Normally at around two-hundred Celsius for about an hour and twenty minutes, but that’s an alchemic stove and oven. Just put some magic into the sigil on the top left and tell it to roast bones for a beef broth – it will have everything done in fifteen minutes.”

He cast a glance at the stove and found the magical emblem she was talking about. Huh, that’s really convenient, thought to himself. Magic really does make life so much easier.

Once the oven started roasting, he turned back around and said, “What’s next?”

She pointed to the large piece of meat. “Next, you cut that into large cubes. Cut it into two-inch strips first, to make it easier for yourself, and then make cubes out of the strips.”

Ichigo then grabbed a knife and started working on the large chunk of meat. “Do I trim the fat?” He asked as he looked up at her.

Grayfia-nee shook her head. “Oh no, not at all. The more calories, the more flavor.”

He nodded to himself and, as he effortlessly worked the knife through the beef, he thought to himself what a break from his usual everyday life this was. Instead of chasing condemned souls through dimensions or listening to lesser Devil nobles drone on about the taxes in Infernity, the simplicity of something so mundane as cooking was now out of place for him. Which really said something about how chaotic his life had become…

The silence of his self-reflection was broken when Grayfia-nee suddenly asked, “So then, how is that fairy tale of yours coming along?”

And Ichigo’s hands paused the knifework and he dropped his head with a sigh. “Seriously? How come we never talk about your love-life?”

She let out a quiet chuckle. “Ichigo, dear – they’ve made books, movies, plays and TV shows out of my love-life. In danger of sounding unfaithful, I’m over my love-life. Give a lady something new to discuss.”

He gave her an annoyed look. “Don’t you have a teenage sister-in-law? Shouldn’t you have your fair share of high school melodrama?”

Her red lips curved amused. “One would think – but, alas, no. When it comes to Rias: she is a dreamer at heart, and won’t settle for anything but the grandest, feet-sweeping of romances. Which is why all our discussions on the subject are filled with her endless bemoaning about her fiancé.”

He shook his head; he really sympathized with that poor girl and the mire of Pillar politics she was stuck in.

“But you’ve danced around my query quite enough,” she then said with a roguish wink, hiding a smile behind her glass of wine. “How goes the affair of Satan, his wife - the Kyūbi Empress, and his familiar - the ancient primordial he keeps in his bed?”

His mouth twisting sourly, the stabbed the knife into cutting board and said, “I’m done cubing the beef.”

Grayfia eyed the clean cuts he made and nodded her head appreciatively. “Grab the large and tall pot, it’s made for broths and soups, and get it heated on the stove. Once it’s hot enough, throw in some beef tallow – that would be the small wooden bowl with the yellow paste inside. Place the cubes you’ve cut into the pot afterwards and let them braise and brown.”

As Ichigo began doing that, his thoughts drifted to the two impressively powerful women he had suddenly found himself sharing a life with. When he thought of Yasaka, the word wife immediately popped into his mind. She really was the perfect wife. She always spoke so tenderly and kindly, but every now and then a bit of playful mischief would peak out behind her regal and gentle bearing. There was a warmth there, a slow spreading ease that filled him with comfort and stability. Doubly so when Kunou was involved. The little vixen never failed to brighten his day.

It was an incredibly surreal and sober moment when Ichigo realized he was the young Yōkai’s stepfather. Parenthood had always been such a distant thought, now it was an unquestionable reality. That being said, Ichigo didn’t know the first thing about parenting, let alone a young girl who had been raised by her single mother all her life. Even less, a literal princess.

Which is why he sat down and had an honest conversation about his inner confusion and uncertainty with Yasaka one day. His wife had smiled and thanked him for his honesty and told him he need to not overthink things; that he just needed to keep treating Kunou as he always had, with respect and kindness… and, occasionally, a little bit of firmness.

As such, Ichigo found himself treating Kunou no differently than he had Yuzu and Karin when they were the same age. It was like having a third younger sister. Which was perfectly fine with him. In fact, he welcomed that new facet of his life.

A life that, with the two Kitsune, was one that was soft and demure.

Which was the complete, utter, total, opposite of what he had with Tiamat. That lazy, gluttonous, borderline-sociopathic Dragon familiar of his.

She was overbearing and incredibly arrogant (said arrogance wasn’t exactly unfounded) and yet, there was something in constantly being challenged, constantly being pushed that sparked a certain joy in him. He surmised it had to do with that more brutish side of his personality, the part of him that felt satisfaction and bliss in the wild savagery of battle.

He liked the push; he liked the fire and thunder and wrestling her domineering nature down until one of them got their way. That tug and pull, that constant being on edge tension between them – it was all passion. A burning, ephemeral passion.

Because when it did die down and the storm quieted, as he gently rocked her in his arms as she slept, he felt a peace and contentment he had not known in well over ten years. Not since his-

Ichigo looked down at the sizzling chunks of beef, though his actual attention and thoughts were far off away. He then slowly turned around and said calmly, “I honestly don't know what I'm doing… sometimes it feels like the water’s still and calm, other times it feels like the smallest ripple can cause disastrous waves.”

At his solemn tone, Grayfia-nee’s expression immediately softened. “I’ve told you before, don’t over think things.”

He rolled his eyes. “Story of my life.” And he was self-aware enough to admit it: Ichigo had a horrible habit of dwelling on the past and constantly submerging himself in thoughts of ‘what could I have done differently?’

He felt a touch on his elbow, and his eyes followed up the delicate arm to see Grayfia-nee smiling tenderly up at him. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Humans alone do not hold monopoly over the definition of love. It changes, from person to person, place to place, period to period. It’s okay to love more than one person. Don’t fret over what happened, Ichigo, but look to the future, of all the happiness that could be yours if you just dared to grasp it.”  

Her words echoed a memory of Tensa Zangetsu when he had trained in the Dangai to master the Final Getsuga. The teenage looking soul-sword had said something similar, that his soul was drowning in his own despair because he had stopped moving forward.

Abandon your fear. Look forward. Move forward and never stop.

He quietly chuckled to himself as the phantom words resonated in his mind. All these years later, and those words were still guiding him.

He gave Grayfia-nee a grateful smile and said, “Thanks nee-san, you’re the best.”

She reached out and cupped one cheek, gently brushing his skin with her thumb, and then she leaned forward and kissed his other cheek gracefully.  

A quiet moment passed, and then her silver eyes steeled once more and she gave him a questioning look. “Well, enough of the sentimental gush between two Demons, back to the matter at hand. Roughly chop those two onions, and after that, do the same with those carrots and the stalks of celery.”

Ichigo threw back his head and let out a laugh… right, Demons.

He was still acclimating to the culture shock of living in a non-human society (nineteen years of humanity don’t just fly out the window, it takes time, after all) but it was always nice to be reminded so starkly of how alien his new friends were.

Funny too, that Grayfia-nee could so ruthlessly crush the affectionate moment between them and return to the iron clad efficiency she was legendary for.

As he peeled the onions and started cutting them, his brows furrowed and looked at her somewhat perplexed. “Are two onions really enough for a soup?” He had always though it would take more.

“No, of course not,” she said shaking her head. “We’re still only on the stock; we haven’t even touched making the actual soup yet. That will – what are you doing!?”

Ichigo nearly jumped at her outraged cry. “What?” He said with some minor concern.

Grayfia pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “Look at the onions! Why are you cutting against the lines? Cut with! Nature has already done half the work for you, why are you overcomplicating it?”

He scowled at her. “What difference does it make?”

“It makes all the difference!” She exclaimed.

He rolled his eyes again. “Fine, fine, whatever you say.”

As he cut all the vegetables and threw them in the pot with the braised beef, Ichigo began aggressively stirring as instructed to, to scrape off all the fond at the bottom of pot. Grayfia-nee was explicit in saying that was also all flavor.

Once she was satisfied that the vegetable had enough color to them, she then said, “Pour in the red wine, and be generous!”

And as Ichigo turned around and reached for the half empty bottle she had left on the kitchen isle, Grayfia-nee suddenly snatched it before he could grab it.

“Not my wine, you silly boy,” she said dryly. “This is a four-hundred-year-old vintage, one of the highest quality exports of the Bael territory. It would be an utter travesty if you wasted this on beef stock. No, go grab a bottle off the rack on the wall.”

With an exasperated sigh, Ichigo walked over and carefully examined the range of wine lying on the rack until he found the red wine. As he grabbed a bottle and flipped it over in his hands, examining the label carefully to make sure he hadn’t chosen some expensive vintage, he gave a quick glance at the beautiful Queen’s direction. “All that being said, there have been some… minor issues.”

“Oh?” She said curiously.

“Yeah,” and as Ichigo began walking back towards the stove, his mouth twisted sourly. “They can be really possessive and competitive in some of the most vexing ways.”

“Is that so?”

And Ichigo had to keep himself from snorting derisively as Grayfia’s silver eyes lit up. Because this is what she had been fishing for from the get-go. Gossip… not his mental and emotional turmoil.

For all her power, Grayfia-nee could be such a stereotypical housewife sometimes.

“Yeah,” Ichigo said with a touch of exasperation as he opened the bottle and poured in the wine. “There’s the whole ‘I can smell her on you’ thing whenever I come back from seeing the other. So I’m constantly taking showers, like two or even three times a day. And then there are the countless clothes that have been ‘accidentally’ destroyed.”

She looked at him puzzled. “They destroy your clothes?”

“Yes!” And there was some heat in his tone. “They’re like a pair of wolves! They mark my stuff with their scent all the time! I find shed dragon scales in my closet all the time, and whenever I’m in Kyoto, Yasaka is wrapping me up in her tails, leaving her fur all over me. Like, don’t get me wrong, it’s kinda cute, but they do it just to piss the other off and, because it works, my clothes get torn up in their jealous fits of rage! And they always do it when I’m not around or when I’m sleeping! I’m seriously considering trying to learn how to create pocket dimensions just so I can start stashing my wardrobe!”

But just then, there was a small ding from oven. Grayfia-nee looked over and said, “Oh, the ribs are done. Quickly take them out. The wine should almost be done reducing by now, benefits of a magical kitchen, cooking takes a fraction of the time.”

And as he took out the roasted bones and set the tray on the counter, Grayfia gave a quick once over and nodded to herself satisfied. “Excellent, now grab a bowl and carefully pour all the rendered fats and oil in it, we’ll use them later.”

As he did so, Ichigo frowned heavily and entirely unprompted said, “Don’t even get me started on when how they try and mark my physically!”

She looked at him in surprise. “What? Like a tattoo?”

He snorted. “Pfft, year right. No, like physically leaving marks me. You see, it all started when Tiamat picked a memory of - ” he paused for a moment, hesitating if he should share this tidbit of his life or not, since it wasn’t just his. But honestly, he felt the need to vent to someone. And as much as she liked hearing gossip, Grayfia-nee wasn’t really one to spread rumors and secrets. He trusted her to keep this to herself.

“So Yasaka has this thing… for clavicles.” As he gave her a side-glance, he realized that Grayfia-nee hadn’t reacted at all. Oh, right, Demon. A clavicle fetish was probably incredibly tame to a Demon as old as her, especially given what she and Sirzechs were rumored to get up to in their free time.

The thought alone nearly caused him to vomit in his mouth.

“And Tiamat found out about this through our shared mental bond and began biting the skin above my collarbone just hard enough to leave a lingering mark.”

It would heal by the next day and he barely felt it through his Hierro, but given Yasaka’s fascination with his collarbones, it left her in a right foul mood whenever Tiamat did so. Without fail, whenever he and his wife got amorous, Yasaka would kiss, suck, lick and bite his clavicles, particularly when she reached climax.

Grayfia leaned forward and gave him an expectant look. “I imagine Her Highness manages to get her fair share of retribution.”

“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” he said with a sigh. “Tiamat has a habit of running her hands across my back whenever we cuddle and – I have no idea how Yasaka found out – but she started leaving scratches on my back the same way Tiamat leaves bite marks.”

Grayfia chuckled to herself as she reached for her glass and downed its last contents. “Quite the casualty you’ve become in this war of theirs. My, my, Satan himself, a victim of domestic abuse.”

Ichigo let out a humorless bark.

He didn’t consider himself a victim, nor did he consider it abuse, not really. Honestly, in the heat of the moment when he was getting passionate with the two and they got up to their antics… honestly, it was kind of hot.

His Demonic tendencies amped his natural aggression, even if he maintained a strict level of disciple over it, and he definitely enjoyed the occasional bouts of rough and angry sex. What did bother him, however, were the irritated moods that followed whenever Tiamat and Yasaka fell for each other’s provocations.

Seriously, how did the twenty-year-old become the mature and sensible one in their fairy tale - as Grayfia-nee so eloquently called it – when the other two measured their lifespans in centuries?

“Manga lied to me all these years,” he muttered angrily under his own breath. “Japanese guy thrust into a strange and magical worlds with a harem of beautiful girls getting along in a fun and adventurous manner? Bull-fucking-shit.”

Grayfia let out a low laugh behind him.  

The minutes ticked by, and Ichigo continued to labor under Grayfia’s instructions. Once the red wine had completely reduced, he added water and then the bones. At which point his former Queen said, “Now is the ideal time to add some additional kick. I know you’re fond of spicy foods, so some red chili or cayenne powder, some bay leaf, some cinnamon, some cardamon and whatever other spices you feel like.”

As he began dropping spoonful of seasonings into the beef stock, Ichigo turned to Grayfia and asked, “So, enough about my life. How’s Millicas doing?”

Grayfia-nee immediately beamed. “Exceptionally well. Speaking of which, I need to thank you for allowing him to visit Infernity so often and for taking time out of your schedule to play with him.”

Ichigo shrugged casually in response. “Eh, I like the kid. He’s smart as Hell and is definitely going places when he grows up. Lucifer knows he’s much smarter than his father.”   

“Yes,” Grayfia concurred with a tired sigh, “thankfully he’s much better behaved than Sirzechs. Hopefully, he stays that way in the coming centuries.”

Nodding in agreement, he asked, “What next?”

“Now, we can get to the actual onion soup itself,” Grayfia said as she pointed towards a bowl that held a dozen or so blood-red colored onions. “These are Nether Onions, they grow only in soil that has been soaked in the blood of battlefields. Their sulfuric taste is balanced with a unique sweetness.”

“…sounds delicious,” he quipped sardonically.

“They are,” she assured him. “Same way as you chopped the white onions for the broth, chop these as well, and them add them to a second, smaller pot. But use the rendered fat and oils from the bones to cook them in instead of the tallow.”

Ah, that’s why she had me put it aside. Smart.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said as he set his hands to work and began chopping the onions with preternatural speed. “Why haven’t you guys given Millicas Evil Pieces yet? You gave Rias hers when she was of the same age.”

Grayfia poured herself another glass of wine and sat down once more. “The simple reason is that Millicas is far stronger than dear Rias, and his potential is much greater as well. Much greater. Sirzechs and I both decided that it would be wisest to have him focus on himself and his own growth, rather than be distracted with Pieces building. It is a trap that many young Devils fall into; they become so focused on building a team around themselves that they neglect their own growth.”

“That makes sense,” Ichigo said as he added the rendered fat to the smaller pot and then quickly added the chopped onions.

“Put the lid on,” Grayfia said, “It will cook faster and better, keeping more of the natural aromatics as well.”

“How long does this part take?”

“Twenty minutes,” she responded. “Normally it would be longer but…”

“Magic,” he finished for her.

“Quite.”  

Brushing his clothes off, Ichigo’s strode over and sat down on the stool next to hers. “Speaking of peerages, have you ever thought about getting one of your own?” he asked.

She gave him a flat look. “Ichigo, please. I’m busy enough keeping Srizechs’ peerage from falling apart, how ever would I find the time to run my own?”

About to respond, Ichigo abruptly shut his mouth as a dark figure suddenly appeared behind Grayfia and grabbed her around the waist. “Someone say my name?”

Grayfia rolled her eyes as she tilted her head up. “Hello, husband.”

Sirzechs smiled down at the woman in his arms and said, “Hello, most beautiful wife of mine.” He then looked up, and with the same smile said, “Hello former Pawn brat.”

“Asshat,” Ichigo greeted reflexively.

But there was no actual venom in their words; despite their very odd relationship (Ichigo having been turned into a Demon Prince without his consent), for the most part, Ichigo felt little animosity towards the Sin of Pride. At least, not anymore. But those first few months after he had become a Sin were… tumultuous, to say the least.

“So,” Sirzechs said with a cheerful tone, “what are the two of you doing meeting so clandestine in an empty kitchen all by yourselves? I hope you’re not trying to seduce my wife, young man!”

Before he could respond, Grayfia let out a contemptuous snort and spoke in the driest tone, “Yes, that’s exactly what this is. After ravaging me all day, Ichigo is now cooking a meal for me and our unborn child.”

Ichigo could only shake his ruefully while Sirzechs laughed raucously. “Him? Ravage you? Oh, Grayfia dearest, I fear it would be you who would ravage him! Ichigo, a word to the wise, if ever the day comes that Grayfia decides to betray me and sets her eyes on you, run! It’s not worth it! Hahaha-oof!”

Sirzechs doubled over as Grayfia deftly slammed her elbow into his gut. And suddenly, he was more than willing to forget and ignore all the scratch and bite marks Yasaka and Tiamat had left on him. It could be worse; it could be so much worse.

But Sirzechs quickly righted himself and was smiling again. “Are you really cooking though, my dear protégé?”

“I’m not your protégé,” he said wryly. “But yeah, Nee-san is teaching me how to make Nether Onion Soup.”

“Oh-ho! An Underworld classic!” Sirzechs exclaimed as his eyes lit up. “Have I ever told you about the time I organized the 1527 Sack of Rome by starting a fight between common soldiers over of a bowl of Nether Onion Soup?”

Ichigo frowned heavily. “Isn’t that what led to the end of the Renaissance?”

Sirzechs smile widened considerably. “It is! The Archangels were absolutely furious with me! You see, it all started wheb aw wash wihh zhe… Gwayfaa?”

Grayfia-nee had reached up behind her and grasped her husband’s cheeks in one hand.

“Another time, Sirzechs.” Silver eyes then fell on him. “If you would, Ichigo, grab the butter and fold it into some flour. After that, you’ll mix it into the onions that have been sautéing all this while. This will keep the soup from being too runny and give it some thickness and viscosity. After that, we’ll let it cook for another ten minutes before slowly adding our beef broth and letting that simmer on low for another ten minutes.”

“And then we’re done?” Ichigo asked, even as he kept his gaze on the Devil with his shoulders slouched despondently.

She took a long sip and said, “Technically, yes. But Nether Onion Soup is traditionally topped off with some baked cheese. But preemptive congratulations on finishing your first traditional Underworld soup.”

“Thanks,” he said as he rose from the stool to grab the butter and flour. However, at the same time, Grayfia chose to let go of Sirzechs’ face and he started right back up where he left off.

“It all started when I was with the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V, and -”

“Sirzechs,” Grayfia said testily as she crossed her arm and turned towards her husband.

“What?” He asked innocently.

“I said another time. And don’t you have a meeting to go to right now?”

Lucifer rubbed the back of his head bashfully as he admitted, “I kind of canceled it.”

“You what?” And there was a dangerous edge beginning to creep into nee-san’s tone that set the hairs on the back of his neck standing.

But Sirzechs, seemingly oblivious to his wife’s growing ire, waved her off dismissively. “Come off it Grayfia, it’s not that big of a deal. Now, where was I? Oh yes! Charles V! We-”

The entire kitchen was abruptly encompassed by the touch of winter as a frigid draft blew through. And Ichigo could only watch with muted horror as with a single wave of her hand, Grayfia froze Sirzechs in a giant slab of ice.

Shaking her head with frustration, Grayfia turned her sharp eyes on him, nearly causing Ichigo to take a step back.

“Now, where were we, Ichigo?”

Slowly, he looked down at the bowl in his hands and then back up to the rime-filled glare of the Silver Queen.

“The butter…,” he said weakly.

And as Lucifer’s Bride began instructing him on the proper technique of folding butter into flour with a knife, Ichigo vowed he would never complain out loud about Tiamat and Yasaka’s antics.

Lucifer, if could be so much worse…

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A/N: Just a little slice of life. See you agiain on Saturday!