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.

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[timebethine]

"Hast thou thought any more on what he told thee of his feelings?" Laertes asks.

[untamedantinous]

“I…not really, no. But I am becoming quite fond of him.”

[timebethine]

"Good. Then thine affection springs from true enjoyment of his company, and not a sense of obligation to match his feelings with thine own."

[untamedantinous]

"He hasn't even brought it up. I do not think he means to, he only told me when I asked him directly."

[timebethine]

"Then I'll stop mentioning it, myself, if I do more to keep it before thine eyes than he does."

[untamedantinous]

"I --perhaps it is necessary, though, to have someone check in every so often." There's a wry sort of smile. "Otherwise I am quick to ignore such things, and I know Grantaire will not say anything about it; he never did before."

[timebethine]

Then Laertes lets himself push just a little. "What does it spark in thee, to imagine him kissing thee as I do? Joy? Dread?"

[untamedantinous]

"I don't know," he says quietly. "--Curiosity? Not dread. He does not...I do not think we are close enough for all that, yet."

[timebethine]

"Then perhaps--" but whatever he was going to say, he's cut off by the clamorous ring of the chicken timer. "Ah, that will be the bread."

[untamedantinous]

"--Yes." He sighs a little and pulls himself away from Laertes' embrace. "I think I must turn it over again and wait, or something like that."

[timebethine]

"Ah, it's a bread with two rises?" asks Laertes. He scoops up the timer from where he'd placed it on the printing plate and starts heading back toward the kitchen.

[untamedantinous]

"Yes, and then I think it must rise again after it's shaped. But not as long as the others. They are apparently quite complicated things, baguettes." He follows along, in that case.

[timebethine]

"Before I came here, I lacked a proper appreciation for the work required of bread," Laertes laughs. "Yeast alone hath a fickle temper; either it refuses the rise entirely, or it runs wild if given the least free reign."

[untamedantinous]

"I think I must also put steam in the oven, as well, when it starts baking. Hopefully it will be worth all this trouble." After a few minutes, they've made their way back to the kitchen, and he washes his hands and sets to deflating the bread and turning it over for its second rise.

[timebethine]

"Does it require kneading, before the second rise?" Laertes goes to take a glance at the recipe book.

[untamedantinous]

"No, I do not think so. It just needs to be deflated and turned."

[timebethine]

"We can spend the next rise looking for instructions for working a press," Laertes offers. "Or in any other employment thou wouldst care to practice; I have no other object." He has completely forgotten about the nutbread recipe in his pocket.

[untamedantinous]

"Mm. Have you set a date for your dance yet? I suppose I should practice at some point before that." So has Enjolras, in the excitement of finding the press.

[timebethine]

"Claudius has set a date, but I forget what it is," says Laertes. His eyes are bright and merry. "It's soon enough that we should take our chance, while we have it."

[untamedantinous]

"Very well." He's acting more resigned than he actually is, and it's hard to hide the smile that is threatening to bloom. "Be patient with me, I am not nearly as skilled a partner as Claudius is."

[timebethine]

"To speak plainly, I am not nearly as skilled a partner as Claudius is," Laertes says confidingly. "He is certainly the best of us." Then, cranking the chicken once again, Laertes leads Enjolras off to the practice room.

[untamedantinous]

"I don't know if I believe that, cher, I saw you at the talent show." He follows along, slinging an arm around Laertes' waist.

[timebethine]

"Lead is easier; it needs more strength than skill." Laertes is more than happy to be reeled in, and knocks their shoulders together companionably as they walk.

[untamedantinous]

"I cannot even recall the last dance I went to," pulling him a little closer as they walk. "It was certainly likely before I came to Paris."

[timebethine]

"And thou wert still a boy, not yet grown into thy legs!" He laughs and nuzzles Lucien's shoulder. "Worry not about the fashion of the dances. We'll dance a few from our home courts, and a few new dances at Claudius's urging--but for most of them, it will be enough to take hands with the rest of the party and move in a circle, or to hold a partner in a close embrace and to sway."