Sven/Al

Sven x Al
C
Al is alone when suddenly Sven comes by
Sven: Captain, I saw the signal and came as quick as I could.
Al: You came here quicker than I expected, Sven.
Sven: Excuse me?
Al: Nothing, nothing. So, Sven, what did you add to last night’s soup?
Sven: …This is not the place and time, Captain Algimas.
Al:. Was it Paprika? Pepper?  Cinnamon?
Sven: I am leaving now, Captain.
Al: And there he goes. I really need to figure out what that was… maybe it was whiskey…

B
Al: Sven, there you are.
Sven: Captain, what was that last night?
Al: The dinner? Oh, I just thought I would try something different.
Sven: Different… Tell me, when is whiskey a typical addition to a stew.
Al: Well, my mom always added a bit of alcohol to our stew when I was a kid.
Sven: Most likely something like gin or something similar.
Al: Whisky can’t be that bad to add.
Sven: It is if you don’t know how to prepare the dish. You just don’t simply add the alcohol, you allow it to burn away to only leave the taste behind, such as deglazing a dish.
Al…
Sven: Captain?
Al: Wow. I knew you were a decent cook, but this is something else. Where did you learn all of this stuff?
Sven: We’ve talked enough of cooking on the battlefield; this is a warzone, not a kitchen. At your leave, Captain.
Al: Well, slowly but surely I am chipping away at him. Still, he is no ordinary mercenary, that’s for certain.

A
Al: So after you deglaze it, what do you do next?
Sven: Wouldn’t this be better to explain ay camp, Captain?
Al: Come on Sven, I think we can drop titles now.
Sven: Why is that, Captain?
Al: Aren’t we war buddies by now?
Sven: I wouldn’t go as far as to say that. I am just a mercenary fighting for your troop.
Al: I wouldn’t say just a mercenary, your culinary skills are far from ordinary.
Sven: What are you getting at, Captain Algimas?
Al: Tell me, where did you learn how to cook?
Sven: Is this an order, sir?
Al: It could be if you don’t answer, Sven.
Sven: If you must know, I was a cook for a bishop back in Zentrim. Before that, I was a son of a baker and ran odd jobs for my family picking up tips here and there.
Al: A Zentrim bishop? Damn, that is a step below royalty in my eyes which makes this even easier.
Sven: Sir?
Al: So Sven, what do you think of the Crimson Arm?
Sven: To be truthful, Captain Algimas, the Crimson Arm looks more like a collection of misfits that are seemingly kept together through you and the tactician.
Al: I know, right? So here is the deal: Once your contract is up, I am not hiring you back as a mercenary.
Sven: Wait, did I do something wrong, sir?
Al: Let me finish. Instead, I am going to be hiring you as a chef.
Sven: A chef, sir?
Al: Your skills are being wasted on the battlefield. Sure, you are a monster in battle, but you can do so much more in the kitchen. That’s why I am going to hire you as such.
Sven: And my wyvern?
Al: He can come along too, sure.
Sven: My wyvern is female.
Al:… well, the same still applies. She is more than welcomed to stay as well.
Sven:… then you have a deal, Algimas.
Al: See, was that so hard, Sven?
Sven: Sir?