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brokenthimbles:

Welcome to Hawthorn

It was a years long waiting list, and yet within months somehow…. they’d been invited back. Peter knows it had been Wendy that had made the best impression, though she did pay for it later. That’s the thing about abusers, even when the target of their rage or inadequacies ends up aiding in getting the invitations of a lifetime, it mattered not. Things over the last few months had deteriorated, much like Slowik and those that worked at Hawthorn, withdrawing into herself, and clearly not eating enough….. the Wendy that would now return to Hawthorn was different, but the invitation brought something back. Silly….. she had spoken the man all of 5 seconds, but he seemed to her a kindred spirit.

The thick card stock of the professional invitation in her fingers when Peter took her hair and inhaled her scent. Yanking down so she looked up at him.

“Be a good girl now….. “ it was a threat a warning…. both. Replied to with the agreement and the question of price….. but sure enough come the 23rd of May, Peter and Wendy stepped down from the boat after its crossing. A bruise upon her neck, covered by the turtle neck style shirt she wore.

But once again Wendy could find herself lost in the gardens and fields of Hawthorne even if just in her imagination.

It was always the same routine, for every guest, every paying customer, no matter how often they had been on that island already - and some already had had the delight to dine there. They were led off the boat, through the gardens, being shown the island and the details of how their meals would be prepared in the evening. Those who didn’t want to follow were of course invited to go straight to the restaurant.

Peter Young was one of the latter. Slowik was watching him carefully from his spot in the kitchen, but soon his attention shifted to the man’s companion. Wendy Darling. It pained him to see her so different. Broken. The light he had seen in her eyes last time had been gone, he noticed. He offered her the smallest of smiles, only meant to be seen by her.

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brokenthimbles

@dontmesswiththechef

#brokenthimbles #//god I hate Peter lol

brokenthimbles:

Welcome to Hawthorn

There was a question in her eyes, when he looked towards her. Something in Wendy’s gut told her that his price was not going to be financial, and that was worrisome and yet intriguing. Just what was Chef Slowik going to ask for…….

The offer of fish was met with a nod. “I will be sure to let you know….. but too late.” For some reason she did in fact worry about the man she had just met. Someone who reminded her of something she couldn’t quite place, or admit to herself. Both trapped in one shape another.

The return home was met with Peter’s cold glare, and verbal lashing. Interrogation about all they had discussed when she had been summoned to the kitchen. Wendy lied of course, and just spoke of tea and Wendy’s curiosity at how menu items were chosen. He was sure not leave a visible mark, but still….. Wendy knew why the chef had reminded her of asking about fish on the menu. One day…. she may actually seek the scorpions sting and sweet release. All she could do for now was wait for their return to Hawthrone.

— time skip —

It was months later when a letter arrived at Wendy and Peter’s home. It was a formal invitation, one that everyone who was on the waiting list received at some point; nothing indicating that they had been dining at Hawthorn before, or that Slowik had had any kind of conversation with Wendy. Frankly, the only reason they even received one, though, was because of her, not her partner. Unfortunately, however, Peter had to be invited as well - but Slowik hoped he could get a deal out of the man when they dined at his restaurant again.

Dear Mr. Young, we are happy to inform you that you have been chosen for an exclusive dinner at Hawthorne on 23rd of May. Please let us know if you and your partner are able to keep the appointment.

We are looking forward to hearing from you, Chef Julian Slowik and the staff of Hawthorne

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brokenthimbles:

Welcome to Hawthorne

Wendy could feel her heart rate accelerate, but also her stomach drop. The idea of returning to learn more of the man that had offered her an escape route was intoxicating, but she had also done something that made her feel dirty in asking to be placed on a list…… it is not something one should ask for but earn, and when she went to ask him not to do so, Peter had already stepped in to thank him.

“Yeah, I’m not worried about cost. Price, name it upon our return and it’s yours.” Peter gloated, not knowing just what his price would be assuming it was some monetary value and one thing Peter was not lacking was funds.

“Thank you Chef, for the private lesson on tea. It was cleansing and revealing…… ” She spoke softly offering her hand. “And if I may be so bold, perhaps you should find yourself lost in your gardens and fields for a change.”

“I will make sure you get an invitation soon. The price will be told to you.” He shot Wendy a knowing look. Of course he would charge Peter a good amount of money, much more than any of the meals were worth. But even moreso, he wanted something else in return, and if he was judging Peter correctly, he knew he would get it without having to argue.

He took Wendy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Miss Darling. You don’t have to worry about me. If I may ask you, however, to tell me in time if you want us to include the fish in our menu...”

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brokenthimbles:

Welcome to Hawthorne

The show, the military like precision, each person in their place, and performing their duty. It was something to behold, but still…. the meas while delicious still lacked something in effable. Though she wondered if she was just too naive to understand it, or if she was right in the sense that the dinner part of Hawthrone seemed to have lost what it meant to be a meal.

Though Peter did seem more agitated than usual. Wendy had a feeling she’d be getting in trouble later, but it didn’t matter. Because for a brief moment, Wendy wasn’t Peter’s possessions. She was a person.

Chef Slowik also seemed to be a kindred spirit to her, and part of her hoped they’d return to this restaurant time. There was something about this Chef she wanted to understand that only time would tell. Wendy knew that once the meal ended Peter would make his way to chef, again sing his praises and urge a return, yanking her wrist and pulling her back to fall a step or two behind him. His instructions at the table had been clear, it was her job to get them on the cancellation list so Peter can flaunt it wealth even further.

Once Peter had finished his praises, Wendy too spoke, though the discomfort at what she had been asked to do was written on her face.

“We do hope to return to Hawthorne soon. But I know the wait list is long …” she cut herself off shaking her head softly out of view. Not wanting to ask anything of Slowik, but either way? Her punishment for failure would be harsh, and she knew it but stopped anyway.

Another evening at Hawthorne came to an end; another day he loathed. Though this time there had been something - someone - piquing his interest. However, first he had to get past that incredibly annoying man by her side. During the final courses Slowik had come up with an idea, though.

He saw every guest off personally, ignoring the praise, the words that meant nothing to him, nor the customers, until it was finally Wendy’s turn. Peter’s words went unnoticed by him, too, as he was more focused on her. He was watching Wendy, smiling at her words. Quite a subtle way to ask if they could be placed on the list. And of course he would put the pair on top - but only if they gave him something in return.

“Do not worry. I will see to it...” His gaze shifted to Peter, and the smile faltered. “However...the price is high. I do hope you understand?”

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brokenthimbles:

Welcome to Hawthorne

Wendy was surprised ever so slightly at his comment of the weeds needing to be cut, not the rose left her confused. She gave him a small nod of thanks for getting a brief moment away from her husband.

“Thank you for the tea…..” though had been the words that left her lips. She did not have any intention of tasting the scorpions sting tonight, and perhaps she never did. Part of her however was not so sure she’d not want it one day. “And for most of Hawthorne.” Wendy knew the Chef understood the pomp and circumstance and the meal were not to her taste, but the island and how the resturaunt operated …. the silent 80% of what actually happened? Was beautiful to her.

Wendy returned to her chair, with Peter starring her down with a fake smile. Grabbing her wrist a little too tight and yanking her down into her seat.

“What was that?!” he whispered harshly.

“He offered me a private lesson on tea…… that’s all.” Waht she didn’t know was Peter not liking the attention shown to his property, but at the same time… Wendy being in good graces with the Chef only meant he would be to in his sick mind.

The entire time Wendy needed to get back to her seat, and even afterwards, Slowik was watching her - and Peter. Perhaps it was not her who needed to taste the ‘sting of the scorpion’, but definitely him. The man was stuck up, pretentious, and self-centered, not to mention the abuse he obviously inflicted on Wendy. He saw her as his property, and even this short conversation between them had obviously enraged him. Men like Peter made him sick.

He followed her out into the open, but stopped at the edge where the dining area met the kitchen. Studied the guests for a moment. Lifted his hands. CLAP As if drilled in the army, his staff began to swarm out and placed the next course on the guests’ tables. Like clockwork. A perfect ballet. A show.

All the while his gaze shifted over to Wendy and her company. For whatever reason he wanted to help her; wanted to set her free. But if she didn’t want him to, Slowik wouldn’t react on it - at least not with drastic measures. There was, however, one idea forming in his head.

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brokenthimbles:

Welcome to Hawthorne

Wendy finished her tea with a sad smile looking towards the kitchen. Everything had its place, its function, its timing. It really was still impressive and magical to watch even if it was all just a show……

“Tell me Chef…..” her eyes full of sadness, and a darkness. “If I ever got to the point where I wanted to taste the scorpions sting, would you let me?”

Wendy knew that he would understand the question, to ask this of a person…. a stranger and yet? There was something that she seemed to notice. Wendy wondered if he was just as trapped as she was……. if he had ever wanted to taste the scorpions sting.

“Could you cut a rose to set it free?”

For a long moment Slowik just studied her features. There was no trying to figure out if what she had been saying was meant to be taken seriously - it was. She had not given up just yet, there was still fight in her left, but it was nearly lost. Like his own. They both were trapped in their personal hell.

He took the last sip of his tea and set the cup down on the counter. Two more minutes before the next course was served. “A rose isn’s set free by cutting it - you need to cut the surrounding weed.” His brow rose. Peter Young was the weed, he was the sickness that had to be cut away. Not her.

His hand moved up, gesturing for Wendy to return to her seat. “You are a piece of art, Wendy. Corrupted and smeared by those who don’t understand art. Do not give up. Do not wish for a scorpion’s sting.”

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brokenthimbles:

Welcome to Hawthorne

She jumped, as he turned to the staff without warning. No watch or clock looked at, he was just as much a slave to his kitchen as she seemed to be with the man that had locked her away. Though she understood his words better than most. The narcisistic way Peter always looked out for what benefits him, or make him look better. Scoring an invitation here was the highlight of his year……. and yet all Wendy could do was wonder what the point was. It was the warm breeze of his breathe that now caught her off guard…..

you can be free……

Was it so transparent? Or was he just that clever and observant though she imagined it was likely a combination of the two. Her brows furrowed before he gaze fell to the floor.

“I’m already aging in the smokehouse…..” it was a harsh truth. She knew what was going to happen to her the longer she was with Peter, what was left of Wendy would slowly disappear but eventually….. he’d bore of her, or he wouldn’t. But it didn’t matter, give it a few more years and what spark she had would be gone. “And please…… it’s Wendy….. I hate my last name….”

His gaze was on Wendy, but something else caught his attention for a moment, and he glanced over, across the kitchen, the dining area. While Peter had seemed disinterested the entire time, Slowik now saw him crane his neck curiously, as if to see what Wendy was doing there for so long. Slowik didn’t want to get her into more trouble than he figured she was already in. He took another sip of his tea, slowly, as if to think about her words.

“The smokehouse has a door...” he mused. “You just have to open it.” A pause. “There is a fish...if prepared correctly, it will be the best fish you have ever tasted. If only one little mistake is made...it is deadlier than a scorpion’s sting.” His head lowered, but his gaze remained on the same level. On hers. Knowingly.

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brokenthimbles:

Welcome to Hawthorne

Extravagant or not, the pace of the kitchen was a sight to behold. The way they moved, knew their role, it was as close to perfection as Wendy could imagine. One could get lost in the sounds, sights, and smells emanating from this stage of a kitchen… but stage none the less.

The words that came from the Chef’s mouth caused her nose to scrunch in slight confusion not quite sure what he had meant. Wondering ever so slightly what flower he was referring, and who held the gift or curse to destroy it.

The came the comment that she did not enjoy the spectacle of the dinner, or the type of dinner. Her blood ran cold because the last thing she needed was for her lack of overt interest the dinner itself to reflect badly on the man who had brought her lest there be consequences.

“Do not mistake me…..” she started before deciding not to lie. “I am fascinated at the idea of a farm to table where the farm is literally right out those doors. In truth I could spend days lost in those gardens and fields…… but the dinner itself is just…. a show. A brilliant one but less a meal meant to be savored , enjoyed more….. ” an elite spectacle…….. She decides not to finish the sentence before taking the offered tea with an apologetic smile. In reality what she had said was a scathing window into her own position. She was at her core something beautiful, but now just for show….. the spectacle. the woman to help Young make his deals and take what he wanted with no concern for her own pleasure or pain.

She was right, and he couldn’t - and wouldn’t - deny it. She saw what was going, on, even though this was the first time Wendy Darling ate at Hawthorne. Unlike all the other guests that had dined here, she saw. A smile was crossing his features, and this time it was genuine. Real. Probably the only real thing at Hawthorne in this very moment, for the first time in so long, save for Wendy herself. Everything else - the dinner, the spectacle, the praise, the guests - they were all fake.

“Don’t worry about your words - he won’t hear them.” He poured himself a cup of tea and lifted it to take a sip. “Tell him I gave you an exclusive insight on teamaking. Or the kitchen. Anything you like.” Another sip. “Like I said - you are different from them. They wouldn’t know what was served tonight. They...devour, they praise, they brag, but all just to keep up their bright, shining light.” Without even looking at a watch, Slowk turned to his staff. “Plating in five!” then back to Wendy, leaning in closer before whispering, so only she could hear, “You can be free, Miss Darling.”

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brokenthimbles:

Welcome to Hawthorne

Wendy could have jumped as she not watched as Slowik placed a hand to her shoulder, a one word command on his lips that she doubted should be disobeyed. Even still, she began to decline looking to Peter for instruction.

“Don’t embarrass me……” he cut her off before she could refuse, a harshness in his tone, but it was clear enough to Wendy that her refusal to the order was indeed not to be disobeyed.

Removing the napkin from her lap and delicately placing it on the table, she slightly shifter her chair back so she could stand.

“Lead the way Chef Slowik…..” it was no different than her submissiveness to Peter, eyes cast towards the Chef hoping she had not offended him in some way. Her brain racked for a facial gesture she may have made that was disapproving, but could think of none. She had dutifully eaten every bite… the only thing was the comment of the impassableness that Hawthorne was known for but surely he would find it a compliment not an insult to be what is expected of such a renowned restaurant.

Peter’s words, no matter how quietly spoken, didn’t go unnoticed by him. Undeterred, Slowik led the way to the open kitchen, overseeing the dining area like a stage. He gestured for Wendy to stand beside him when he placed himself at the end of the counter in the centre and began to prepare tea. It was a ceremony, not only there to cleanse the palate, but also the mind.

For a long moment he was silent as the kitchen staff around them were working. “There are people,” he finally began, “who - call it gift or curse - can turn even the most beautiful flowers into withering, rotting, trash.” His gaze moved up to meet Wendy’s. He poured her a small cup and offered it to Wendy. “You are not here because you enjoy this kind of dinner. You are different than the others.”

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brokenthimbles:

Welcome to Hawthorne

The sudden sound of a voice near her caused Wendy to jump ever so slightly. It was a slightly learned response. The funny thing about toxic relationships….. by the time you realize you’re in one, one is preconditioned to think it was all you were worth. Wendy looked up to see not just a worker, but the Chef Julian Slowik at their table. Taking a small breath to begin to answer him she was cut off by Peter singing the mans praises, kissing ass.

Not that Wendy didn’t like the food….. it was perfectly adequate. Exactly what she had come to expect of the exclusive Hawthrone, a restaurant that without Peter she’d never set foot into only furthering the odd pull he had on her. Oh how well he had trained her to think that on one hand she was worthless, but on the other because of Peter she got to attend this staggeringly amazing moments.

She offered a small smile of gratitude afraid to speak. Partially because Peter was speaking, and partially she didn’t wish to offend the chef. An amazing show, and the food was good…… Wendy just prefered the comforts of a home meal to the pomp and circumstance of fine cuisine. God forbid Chef Slowik discover she’d prefer the peasant dish ratatouille to a fine dining experience lest it look poorly on Peter.

“…. Isn’t that right Darling?” He finally asked after he finished thoroughly kissing Slowik’s ass the pet name caused her skin to crawl ever so slightly.

“Indeed. It is impeccable.” Wendy offered quietly afraid to make eye contact with either gentleman . “Exactly what is expected given Hawthorne’s reputation.” It was a compliment to be sure, but there was still the hint that this what not Wendy’s preference for those that nocied. Peter Young of course did not.

Slowik didn’t pay attention to the man. It was just always the same, with every single one of those guests; they were buttering him up, telling him how perfect and delicious the menu was, how brilliant he was. He wanted to vomit. Peter didn’t even enjoy this dinner as he should; didn’t even know what was on his plate, right in front of his damn nose.

The entire time Peter was talking, he gazed at Wendy. Pretentious, self-opinionated, probably even abusive. If not physical, then mental. Him - not her. She had fallen into that spiral of violence and didn’t know how to escape from it - or didn’t even know she was trapped in it.

A small smile was crossing Slowik’s lips, not even reaching his eyes. The warmth in them had long vanished. His hand came to rest on Wendy’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Come.”

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Welcome to Hawthorne

starter for @brokenthimbles

“Is...everything to your liking?” Chef Julian Slowik was observant; but subtly so. He had watched the tables all evening, and one in particular: that of Wendy Darling and Peter Young. It was the way the pair was so opposite. She was calm, quiet, and observant of every dish served. He, however, didn’t care. All he did care about, Chef noticed, was how much money he could spent on this dinner. Who he wanted to impress here, on this exclusive island, however, was to be found out yet - everyone here paid these ridiculous high prices. Peter Young didn’t stand out.

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