Chapter Text
Ellana knew the minute she stepped into the shop, it was the worst mistake of her life. The smell hit her nose like a bang, a sweet mixture of bready confectionery and baked cinnamon. I will never leave this place... she mourned.
The donut shop had only recently opened, and Ellana had tried to avoid it for as long as possible. She stayed away for two weeks, which was commendable, given the fact that she could see its painted façade from her bedroom window. Every day, she had shamelessly stared as the employees prepared for opening. They would brew coffee and bring out trays among endless trays of fried doughy goodness. One day, she would sigh.
The day did come, and that day was today. Doughnut Rebel was the name of the place, and Ellana thought the title sounded a little pretentious. Please, she scoffed. What could be “rebellious” about donuts?
There was a bell on the door that chimed when she entered. Uh-oh. Definitely no turning back, now that the employees were alerted. The place was small enough, too, really only the size of her kitchen (which was tiny). The only notable features were a mirrored menu (yes, someone had actually hand-lettered donut flavors onto a mirror) and a handsome, smiling cashier.
“Hello!” he greeted, a charming smile on his lips. The man seemed quite well-manicured, Ellana noticed, as his hair and mustache were expertly styled. His tan skin stood out even stronger against the crisp, white button-up he wore, and Ellana cringed as she surveyed his suspenders. Oh no, she worried. This is a hipster place. Doughnut Rebel. She should have known!
She had nothing against trendy locales, but the idea that every wannabe-coolster in her (somewhat modest, somewhat young) neighborhood would be flocking to this shop made her want to march out the door. She could practically hear the sympathetic “progressives” telling the poor, ignorant Dalish elf all about the wonders of independent bakeries. They would warn her of the horrors of mass consumerism, the plight of the Copper Menu... No, she was not in the mood for those types of encounters. Not today, not ever.
At least she was the only one in the store, though, since it was early on a weekday. Ellana was lucky enough to have flexible working hours, and strolling into the office mid-morning was never questioned.
She had thought to be generous today, bringing in the dough (fried dough, specifically). But as her eyes flitted over the flavors, a pit of uncertainty sunk into her stomach. I don’t know about this...
Salted Caramel Elfroot? Cinnamon Rashvine? Embrium Chocolate? It was like every flavor had a weird plant ingredient thrown in. Why would she want a donut with plants in it?!
As Ellana attempted to sneak away through the exit, the cashier called to her, “How may I help you?” and she was stuck between telling him that she changed her mind or actually ordering something. He stood behind a counter, blinking patiently at her, yet somehow also reminding her of a caged animal. The space was miniscule and barely allowed a turn-around. The man seemed cramped among the large coffee canisters and metal rack of donuts beside him. Where was the kitchen? Where was the door?
“I, uh... Well, um...” she stuttered. It was too late. She already felt the guilt tingling in her chest from the notion of leaving. This place was small, possibly family-owned, and brand-spanking new. Ellana had no idea how much business they got. Perhaps her presence had brightened their otherwise grim-looking future. She was the only person in the shop, and this came with an unspoken obligation to pity-purchase at least one item.
“What do you recommend?” she finally asked, and her voice sounded hesitant and defeated.
The man quirked another smile and flourished his hand to the trays beside him. It was unusual to see donuts displayed this way. Usually, they were behind a glass case, upfront and centered for all the world to drool over. But in Doughnut Rebel, they were behind the stone counter and nearly out of view. How bold, she thought. Most donut-appeal was from their appearance, after all.
“These are the finest donuts in all of Haven, I assure you,” he proclaimed. “Every flavor is just as equally enchanting.”
Ellana tried to smile to hide her annoyance, since his answer was not helpful at all. She fidgeted where she stood and craned her neck around the counter to examine the various colors of frosted doughs. I just need to choose one and get out of here...
“Tell her your favorite flavor, Dorian,” a man’s smooth voice suggested, although Ellana had no idea where it came from.
The cashier (Dorian, it seemed), gave a sigh and the slightest of eye-rolls. He turned towards the trays and muttered through them, “Will you let me do the selling for once? I thought we had both agreed I was better with customers.”
The voice said nothing, but at least Ellana now knew that the cashier wasn’t actually trapped behind the counter. There was another room through those stacks of trays. She wasn’t quite sure what Dorian’s donut-pitch would have been (if such a thing even existed), but she did agree with the mysterious voice. “Well... what is your favorite flavor?” she mumbled.
The hidden voice chuckled, and it tinted Ellana’s cheeks with embarrassment.
Dorian gave a strained smile. “It is a difficult choice,” he said through clenched teeth. “The Honeyed Vandal Aria is certainly a delectable one. I would highly recommend it.”
Ellana nodded, unsure of what to think about yet another herb-infused donut.
“Spindleweed Crunch is also very popular,” the other voice offered.
Dorian made no effort to hide his annoyance when he very audibly exhaled this time. He leaned closer towards the unknown voice behind the rack. “Why did you even hire me if you are only going to chatter incessantly from the oven? Do you want me to be out here or not?” he grumbled between trays.
The voice laughed. “I only interfere when your ego is too excessive to remember your tasks.”
Dorian made an indignant noise. “Look, you are scaring her away!” he exclaimed, motioning an emphatic hand towards Ellana. “Now, be quiet and let me do the talking.”
“All the world could not keep you quiet, Dorian,” the man’s voice smirked.
Dorian rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to argue once more, but Ellana interrupted him.
“You know what? I’ll just take one of each flavor, thanks!” she declared, the need to leave this strange pair growing stronger by the second. No wonder there was no one else here...
The man smiled as he placed each confection into a pretty pink box, a Doughnut Rebel logo pre-stamped on its top. “That will be thirty sovereigns, please,” he chimed.
Ellana couldn’t pull the notes out fast enough, and soon, she was out the door with said box in hand. The regret was instantaneous as she realized she had not only purchased one gross-sounding donut, but eight of them.
At least she would not have to ever see those bickering employees again.
“Okay, who makes these donuts?!” Ellana demanded as she barged in through that ringing door the next day.
Dorian looked startled as he took in the elf. “The owner is the mastermind, although I also contribute to the preparation,” he answered with wide eyes.
She slammed her palms on the counter and leaned in towards the cashier. “These are the most amazing donuts I have ever tasted!” she blurted, staring into the man’s eyes like a wild halla.
“Th-thank you,” he said. He looked almost alarmed, but there was a little proud smile that played on his lips.
“I just never thought donuts with herbs could taste so good,” Ellana cooed. She relived the taste of each one in her mind, biting her lower lip in the process. “Such unique flavors... and rich, but not too heavy... They’re like fine delicacies!”
Dorian smiled a little larger and crossed his arms with smug delight. “Unfortunately, I cannot take all the credit for these inventions. If you are to thank anyone, it should be the owner. Solas, why don’t you come out?”
“I heard everything she said, so it is unnecessary for her to thank me again,” the hidden voice answered.
“Oh, nonsense!” Dorian disputed with a wave of his hand. “You are like a ghost back there. Just come out already!”
Ellana heard a sigh from behind the shelves of donuts, but soon another noise, like the sound of a door opening. A person stepped into the shop shortly after, ringing the doorbell again. She turned to the sound and saw a tall man with no hair and a distinctive cleft chin. He was an elf, too, just like Ellana (although not Dalish, she noted), and tall for one as well.
“My name is Solas,” he introduced with a small nod. “I am the owner here.”
He’s the owner? Ellana wondered. He wasn’t what she had expected. Someone dapper like Dorian, perhaps, but not the upright, stiff-looking man in the green turtleneck and apron. She also now knew that there was, in fact, no door connecting the storefront to the kitchen. The man must have gone around the building to get here. It was a much bigger hassle than expected, and all because she was so enthusiastic about his donuts. She hoped meeting her was worthy of such an inconvenient trip (although it probably wasn't).
Solas held his hand out to greet her. He looked quite serious at first, but when she met his gaze, a little smile appeared.
She shook his awaiting hand and felt a tiny tingle from touching his warm skin. “I’m Ellana,” she returned. She released him and grinned. “And your donuts are phenomenal.”
“Thank you,” he replied, still with that tiny smile. “I discovered the culinary uses of these herbs during the many travels of my youth.”
“Oh?” Ellana was intrigued.
“Yes, Solas was quite the world-traveler before he opened Doughnut Rebel,” Dorian affirmed, still positioned behind the counter.
Her eyes shifted between the two in confusion. “But... why did you put those herbs in donuts?” she asked.
The corner of Solas’ mouth twitched as if about to smile, but he ended up crossing his arms and covering his smirk with a hand instead.
Ellana felt even more embarrassed now. He probably had years of experience inventing different recipes. Her question had most likely sounded silly at best, and ignorant and insulting at worst. Ugh. She couldn’t even compliment correctly.
Dorian broke the awkward silence. “Solas has always had an affinity for desserts,” he said. “He can try a food once and discern its properties for cooking.”
“Wow, that’s pretty... impressive,” Ellana remarked.
“Thank you,” Solas said again, inclining his head in acknowledgement.
“I actually tried every flavor you had yesterday.” She laughed and placed a hand to her very hot cheek. “They were all fantastic, especially the elfroot one. I mean, I’ve heard people using that plant for salves and creams, but food? What made you actually taste it?”
A laugh escaped Solas then, a rich noise that burned Ellana’s ears. “I had to eat something,” he answered. He smiled a bit broader.
Ellana raised her brows. He seemed like the sensible, careful type. What kind of situation would make him so desperate for food?
“Solas has backpacked through all sorts of wild places,” Dorian explained. “And yes, he almost always gives such vague answers to everything.”
“Heh,” Ellana coughed. She still didn’t know how to feel about these two, but at least she appreciated their amazing donuts. “So... Can I order another?”
Dorian straightened immediately. “Why, of course! Which one would you like?”
“How about the Honeyed Vandal Aria?” She grinned, remembering the one he had recommended yesterday.
Dorian laughed. “Solas, I am counting this as one of my successful sales.”
“You do not receive commissions, Dorian,” he retorted. He was already halfway out the door to return to the kitchen again.
“Oh, but I do. For my pride, I do.” Dorian dropped the donut into a takeaway bag. “The most important commission of all,” he winked.
Ellana smiled as she paid and took the bag from him. “Well, I should be going... but I’ll be back!” The promise sounded forced, but she knew it was authentic. These donuts were just too delectable to stay away from, even if the shop’s employees were a little eccentric.