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Pane Appena Sfornato

Summary:

A story that starts with a little Charcadet stealing olives from a restaurant as he gets caught by a Dolliv, that blossoms like the roses in the garden. As the two are forced to work together, Cassio the Arboliva and Aelios the Ceruledge try not to tear each other apart while working at Cassio's family-owned restaurant, Giardino's.

Notes:

A small Charcadet tries to steal some food for himself, and ends up with a proper meal much to the chagrin of the Dolliv who caught him.

Work Text:

The pleasantness of early mornings in Solace Village were often something no other village could surpass. The sunlight draped itself over arches and balconies that were built to last, the beams of light feeding the leaves of viridian vines clutching against the tanned stone. 

Perhaps the part that set it above the rest, however, was the aroma that wafted in the air from Giardino's, a restaurant tied to a bakery amidst the shoppes and quaint housing in the middle of town. 

Stepping on every other stone and holding his breath tight, a small Charcadet pursed his lips as he surveyed his surroundings. Most buildings were open now, from the sun casting its golden hue in between alleyways and glimmering through the streams of water in the canals under the village’s supports. The Charcadet set himself close to Giardino’s doors, glancing at the front of the restaurant to find something worth his time. He could see, by then, a stall set up in front of it, showcasing olive jars and one popped open. He smirked, just before dashing for it and taking a few in his hand. 

Holding the olives in his tiny palm, he quickly slipped the olives one by one into his mouth. As good as they were, he couldn’t waste any time in eating them. He already hadn’t eaten any decent meals for the past few weeks, and it was starting to show. He knew it was wrong to take the olives, but he couldn’t wait any longer. It was his survival or no one’s.

Quickly looking back and forth, he snatched the jar right off the stall’s counter along with the lid. Sealing it shut, he tucked the jar in his arm and prepared to run away –

“HEY! YOU!”, came a sudden voice from behind.

Pivoting to see behind him, there stood a Dolliv staring daggers at him. “Did you pay for those olives?”, the Olive Pokemon asked, suspicion evident in his tone. The Fire Child Pokemon wasted no time and started to try and bolt away, back in the direction he came from. He knew that Dolliv’s were slower than him, if only slightly. It should have been enough to make an easy, but close getaway.

But suddenly, he was cut off, the Dolliv appearing right in front of him. He had used Trailblaze to shorten the gap between the two of them. Not looking to get caught, he quickly spat an Ember out and ran in the opposite direction, bursting through the restaurant door. 

Though all was hectic as the Charcadet ducked under tables and skid across the wooden planks, he couldn’t slow himself in time before he bumped into the leg of an older Roserade. She gasped just before she bent down to stare at the Charcadet, with his chest heaving and his pupils wide. 

“What are you doing in here, little fuoco?” She murmured, but by the time she had gotten those words out, she had to stare as the boy scampered behind her and into the kitchen quarters. 

Clutching the little jar of olives under his arm, the Charcadet’s stamps through the tile flooring were almost inaudible compared to the pan sizzles and the crackling of the masonry oven before him. Cerulean irises darted to each crevice of the room, quickly settling on the open door frame tucked in the back of the room. 

When he went to make his way to the door, he faintly recognized the eyes surrounding his form. He turned his head, squinting as he made eye contact with the Dolliv once more. He hid the olive jar behind his back, as if choosing to deny his fiendish actions. 

“Don’t act all innocent now!”, called the Dolliv from the opposite side of the kitchen. Using his Trailblaze, he started sprinting to cross the gap between them once more. Thinking quickly, the Charcadet spotted an open service window and dove for it. With a leap, the Charcadet landed on the counter above them, tucking and rolling with the jar of olives in his clutch through the gap.

He rolled off the countertop and landed back onto the carpeted floor, tucking the olives between the other arm this time around. He put even more effort into his running and bolted straight for the door leading to the outside eating area. From there, he could lose them in the crowds of the morning market.

Just as he reached the door, the Dolliv came barrelling into the Charcadet and sent him tumbling to the floor, the jar of olives rolling across the floor and hitting the wall. The Dolliv kept him pinned there, wrapping a Grass Knot around his tiny body. “You’re not going anywhere, you tizzone! ” came the exhausted Dolliv’s response. “Why’d you try and run, huh?”

A third voice suddenly came from behind both children, startling them both. “Cassio Radura de Verdeggiante! What have I told you about running in the restaurant?”, chastised the Roserade as she strutted over to both of them, her cape flowing behind her. “And why are you wrestling in here? I told you that you have to play outside if you’re going to get rough.”

“But Mama, he’s a thief! He tried to nab one of our olive jars without paying for it!”, was Cassio’s retaliation to his mother. The Roserade tsked as she scooped the Dolliv in her arms, holding her rose buds under his torso as a cushion. “Sweetpea, sometimes little bambinos get hungry. Would you like it if you were hungry and needed to take some food?” Cassio stared blankly, though the Charcadet scrambled up to his feet as the wraps around his body loosened. 

“I’ll tell you what, fuoco, some panettone is fresh in the kitchen. Would you like to have some?” The Charcadet breathed heavily for a moment, eyes darting between the Roserade and the Dolliv, just before bowing his head in silence. The Roserade sighed softly as she placed the other back onto the floor, his head immediately snapping to look at the fire type. 

Perhaps the boy mumbled something, possibly sharp and hateful as he waited for his mother’s return. By then, the other boy paced around a few steps from where he stood, his flame crackling as he contemplated his options. If he ran now, he could seamlessly make his escape and shake the consequences. If he stuck around… 

His stomach agreed to the latter. 

Though his mind eventually returned to the olives he had snatched from before. He glanced to the wall, taking in the shards of glass littering the ground (alongside the olives, of course). He stepped toward the scene, gently scooping the small fruits in his hand and dropping them into the bin. He did the same with the glass, though he winced from the pricking and might’ve cut himself along the way. 

Sure enough, as he looked down into his palm, there pooled a little puddle of blood. Feeling a twinge of guilt and not wanting to trouble this family any more, he discreetly licked his wound and put the last of the shards of glass into the trash. The Dolliv, now known as Cassio, shot the Charcadet a glare. “I’ve got my eye on you, tizzone. Don’t try anything else,” warned the young boy as he hopped up on a nearby chair.

“Thankfully, we’ve only been open for, what, 5 minutes? We haven’t got any customers yet, so don’t worry about the mess.” Noticing the slight blood dripping from the Charcadet’s hand, Cassio looked up at the upper floor’s balcony, spotting one of his family’s servants. “Wilfrédo! I need you for a moment, please!” In response, an Indeedee with a rather bushy mustache looked over the edge down at the Dolliv.

“What is it you require, young signore?”, responded the servant.

“I’m afraid this scemo here,” gesturing to the Charcadet with his leafy hand, “accidentally cut himself. Can you come help?”

“Of course.” Wilfrédo quickly trotted down the stairs and approached the boy, clutching his hand behind his back out of fear. The Charcadet flinched as the Indeedee bent down to gingerly pull the appendage close, dressing the wound with a little towel in hand before stepping back to assess his work. The boy grimaced as he stared at his palm, turning it over and sighing softly. 

Once they were through, the Roserade returned with panettone in hand. The bread had candied fruits from local orchards, especially raisins, and some nuts scattered within the thick yeast-leavened softness. She placed it down on a table in the far corner of the room, having them obscured from the morning customers. 

She had her son hop up onto a chair, then patted the one across from him to give to the fire type. He heaved a sigh, just before stepping onto it and being face-to-face with the other boy. It wasn’t without a few quick glances and squints in his direction, however, though he had mostly stuck to staring at the tablecloth. 

The tip of a plate came into his vision, and he looked up slightly to see a slice of the bread sitting before him. His cerulean-colored eyes stared at the panettone, amazed that he was allowed to have some, especially after what he had just done a moment prior.

“Well? Are you going to just stare at it, tizzone, or are you going to eat it?”

The question snapped the Charcadet out of his trance as he glanced over at Cassio. He was staring back at him, already holding a fork and a knife, in the process of slicing off a piece. “Mama always says that it’s rude to refuse food someone gives you, so eat,” the Dolliv reluctantly urged. The Charcadet nervously took hold of his fork and knife and slowly cut through the panettone, the bread squishing like a sponge as the knife delicately cut through.

As the food entered the Charcadet’s mouth, he was hit with a wave of delicious tastes and textures. The little flame on his head danced with delight as he continued to savor the flavor of the sweet bread.

“Is your hand doing better?”, Cassio asked blankly. “I hope so, I don’t want to get blood into mia mama’s nice carpets.” Surprised the Dolliv was still speaking to him, the Charcadet raised his head and nodded. Perhaps the first time he had made a noise through the entirety of their meeting, the boy murmured a simple yes before shoving a piece of the bread in the partition of his lips. 

“This is… really good,” the boy continued as he practically inhaled the sweet bread, shoveling it into his mouth as if it would be stolen from him. Cassio’s shoulders stiffened before he pushed the plate of panettone closer to the fire type. “You can have more if you want, mama loves when ‘mons like her food.”

By the time the Roserade had returned, only wanting to wish him well, she stood straight seeing how the loaf was completely devoured. Crumbs littered the face of the boy, and Cassio happened to be wide eyed (was it awe, or disgust?). It was only a few minutes that he had the dessert, and he still seemed starved. 

Fuoco…” She mumbled, though she had immediately shaken her head after, giving him a soft smile. “I’ve yet to learn of your name. Perhaps I know your family?” The Charcadet shook his head, though he eventually raised it to give her eye contact. 

“Aelios, signora.

The Roserade’s expression changed ever-so-slightly, her pupils contracting at the mention of his name. “Well, little Aelios, if you’re ever feeling hungry again, don’t be afraid to pop up again in Giardino’s.” She struck a little pose, waving her bouquets to imitate jazz-hands. “Brier will always be happy to serve you.”

Aelios avoided eye contact with Brier, but nodded slightly in response. Muttering a quick excuse, he hopped down from his chair and ran out the doors of the restaurant, dodging past incoming Pokémon as they entered the restaurant. The morning rush was now in full swing, with all of the waiters rushing out to take orders as the band began to play their morning music. Hopping down from his chair, Cassio turned to face his mother. “Mama, why’d we let him eat our food? He stole from us.”

“Actually, I’ll answer that question,” popped up a voice from behind. Cassio spun around and came face to face with his father, a massive Venusaur. An instant smile popping up on his face, Cassio giggled as he was lifted into the air by his father’s vines and placed on the top of his head.

Mia bello! “, exclaimed Brier as she gently leaned down and kissed her husband's snout. “How are things going in the kitchen, Rubio?”

“Everything is going fine, mia frutteto. Pineda and Lupe are cooking up the orders as we speak, so we’ve got some downtime,” the Venusaur reassured his wife. “Now, as for you, my little piantino,” Rubio said as he began to tickle his son with his vines, “I can answer your question. You wanted to know why we didn’t punish that little boy, Aelios, yes?”

Pushing his father’s vines away, Cassio replied with an affirmative grunt.

“Well, the olives themselves were just some sample olives, and we have loads of jars that we sell everyday! It doesn’t really matter in the long run, so why hold him to it?”, the Venusaur replied jovially. “However, there’s also another reason that I should tell you, but not here.” Rubio turned to face his wife, a more serious expression on his face. “Can you handle serving the customers with the waiters while I handle this?”

“Of course, honeysuckle,” replied Brier as she strutted off to serve and wait for the customers. Rubio pulled his son off his head and set him on the ground as he said calmly, “Follow me.” Together, the duo walked into the kitchen, and Rubio turned to face his son.

“Now, my boy,” the father began, and the Dolliv sighed (comically loudly, even) as he waited for his parent to continue. “In this world, sometimes people aren’t given the same cards. You know how to play cards, piantino?” Cassio squinted as he thought, but eventually nodded. 

Rubio stood close to a table for a moment, pulling a deck with his vines and scattering the cards within. He shuffled them using the frail appendages, easily handing his son a few cards and some for himself. He pulled them into his grasp, and the other did the same. 

No dice. A 3-8 off suit, which Cassio knew wasn’t the best (or, he was sure his father wasn’t pleased whenever he caught a glimpse of it in his hand). he furrowed his brow as he stared back up at his father. “What about it, padre? ” 

The Venusaur laughed as he pulled down the cards from the boy’s hand, then set down his own. Rubio had a Full House, and he almost cackled at seeing his son’s. “See that, bud? I’d say your hand is similar to that boy’s out there. Mine is closer to yours. It’s a gamble, you see?”

Cassio contemplated it for a moment. It would make sense, he agreed, but he found it at least a little comedic how his father used playing cards for every metaphor. Not that it was inaccurate. “So… the tizzone just had a bad hand, huh?” Rubio clasped his thick legs as he nodded, making the warm face he always did when he was pleased.

“Right you are, boy. Now, could you help your mother?” The Dolliv quickly gathered his cards and placed them before the Venusaur, then ran out into the front to handle the morning rush.