Written at the very beginning: slightly OOC; the characters' personalities differ from the main text. The extra's timeline is set after the ending.
"You're grilling that meat wrong."
Rogal Dorn took a deep breath and, without betraying a thing, kept waving the spatula in his hand, flipping the juicy steak over so it would heat more evenly.
"Wrong again. The first side wasn't done yet."
"."
Dorn still ignored him, but his hand went and flipped the steak back over on its own. There was no question that what he was doing now had nothing to do with grilling anymore. It was pure spite.
"Why did you flip it so quickly this time? That's not right."
"Are you ever going to shut up?!"
Rogal Dorn hurled the grilling spatula onto the table, then yanked the chef's hat off his head and threw it onto Perturabo's endlessly nagging face.
His roar rang through the entire open-air courtyard. "Forty-five whole minutes! You've been nattering in my ear the entire time! If you're so capable, grill these damned meats yourself. Otherwise, shut up!"
Perturabo actually did not get angry. He took the chef's hat in his hand and said with biting sarcasm, "You're a cook. What are you so smug about? I'm not the one who lost the bet two days ago. Need me to remind you?"
Dorn's expression darkened sharply.
Seeing him like that, Perturabo slowly began to laugh. "Who was it who boasted that he could beat me in a simulated siege-and-defense battle...? Hm? Was it you, Rogal Dorn? That's why you're standing here grilling meat for all of us, isn't it?"
Teeth clacked together, lips trembled, and Dorn turned his head away. Without saying a word, he picked up the spatula and continued grilling. Only this time, his movements