quatre: they will put away the sword

[untamedantinous]

There are a number of kitchens to be found in the mansion, as most people know. Enjolras is in one of them, flour speckling his flannel shirt and black jeans. There is a recipe book open on the counter near him, open to a page on baguettes. The young man in question is currently absorbed in kneading some dough: once again, something new to concentrate on. (Yes, he had known that Combeferre and Courfeyrac were only here for a day, but that does not really make it much better.) So, inspired by Laertes -- and, perhaps, the underwhelming boeuf bourguignon the mansion had provided the other day -- he is attempting a French classic. Perhaps a homemade baguette will taste better than mansion-provided food.

Comments

[futaille]

"No, you're right. That was far from my usual standards. I beg your forgiveness."

[untamedantinous]

He’s doing his best to hide a smile. “You are forgiven.”

[futaille]

"And no penance, either. Your mercy is unmatched."

[untamedantinous]

He wrinkles his nose a little. “That’s assuming I remember any of the penances I had to do, which was…hm. Nearly ten years ago, I think?”

[futaille]

He laughs. "It was far from a complaint."

[untamedantinous]

“Good. I should not like to be a priest, save perhaps of the republic.”

[futaille]

"A prophet of the republic if anything, I assure you. Heralding the coming."

[untamedantinous]

He rolls his eyes a little. "Mm. Unfortunately, not yet."

[futaille]

"That's the way with prophets, unfortunately. At least you actually do know it happened."

[untamedantinous]

He sighs. "Yes, and at least Combeferre and Courfeyrac know as well, now."

[futaille]

"And therefore, swords to plowshares. Or, I suppose, carbines to cuisine, in your case."

[untamedantinous]

He snorts and rolls his eyes again, mildly. "I would not consider myself an expert by any means."

[futaille]

"How fortunate I didn't call you one, then."

[untamedantinous]

"Good. This bread will be, in effect, my first attempt."

[futaille]

"And such good fortune indeed that you should have such an unassuming critic to judge it as I."

[untamedantinous]

"Perhaps a somewhat biased critic all the same."

[futaille]

"Ah, but then, I dare you to name a time when my bias has stopped me from critiquing nonetheless, instead of, perhaps, actively encouraging it."

[untamedantinous]

"I do believe that is one of your favorite activities," he replies thoughtfully. "I do not think there has been one."

[futaille]

"Exactly. Therefore I pledge honesty in the matter of your bread."

[untamedantinous]

"Well, thank you, though it will still be some time until it is ready."

[futaille]

"I did assume so, on account of it not even being in the oven yet. Did you think I would abandon you for the wait?"

[untamedantinous]

"No, of course not, though I am astounded I haven't bored you yet." Throughout their conversation, he has been dutifully turning dough out and covering it at certain points, and by now they're on their way to the second rise.

[futaille]

He laughs and polishes off his drink, tossing the empty bottle in a nearby trash can. "I cannot even imagine you doing anything to bore me."

[untamedantinous]

"Not even sleeping?" with some amusement.

[futaille]

He stops dead, contemplating a sleeping Enjolras for a moment. "You know, I think I would manage to avoid boredom."