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

[untamedantinous]

He disentangles himself from Laertes enough to make a grab for the cookbook, glances at it, and nods. "Yes, I think so? It says here until they look 'marshmallowy'--which ....it is well on its way, I think, but not quite yet."

[timebethine]

"Any bread that's spent so long in rising must be light as air," Laertes grouses mildly. "How thou hast the patience, I'll never know."

[untamedantinous]

"Oh, it is, though," Enjolras says, with a slight smile. "The outside must be crisp, of course, but the inside is light and fluffy and perfect when it is warm and has just a bit of jam, or soft cheese. The only reason I have the patience is because you are here keeping me company, I do not know if I will have the patience to do all this again."

[timebethine]

"We'll have to find employment for ourselves during each rise," says Laertes thoughtfully. "I might wash cups. Sagramore and I tend to forget to return them to the kitchen once we've finished with them; a rise is just long enough to get through all of them."

[untamedantinous]

“Yes, and I’ve already cleaned most everything else up. The next bread I try shall not nearly be as intensive, I think.” He hums thoughtfully. “Would you like help with your cups?”

[timebethine]

"Oh, no, they're done--I was only thinking ahead to the next time. I'd like for thee to have good baguettes. Thou shouldst know any pleasure thou desirest."

[untamedantinous]

“I have already promised Grantaire the first taste, but you might have the next, if they are any good. They may not be.” He sets the recipe book back down on the counter. “Mm,” with a nod. “I am not accustomed to asking for them.”

[timebethine]

"Then we'll train thee to the habit of it--name some other pleasure thou wouldst like."

[untamedantinous]

“Ah, I don’t know.” He thinks a moment. “I would say coffee and good company, but I am in possession of both of those. Hmm. Sweets, perhaps? We had violettes at home, violets crystallized in sugar. Or macarons, those are quite good as well.”

[timebethine]

"I love sweets--happily, then," says Laertes. "We'll learn to make them together, so that thou canst have them whenever thou likest."

[untamedantinous]

“Alright.” There’s a slightly wry grin. “Pray do not make me think of anymore, that was hard enough as it was.”

[timebethine]

Laertes grins in answer. "Wouldst like to be surprised with pleasures? I'll happily ambush thee with sport and entertainments."

[untamedantinous]

“I have no doubt you would, cher,” he replies fondly. “That would certainly be easier than trying to think of them myself.”

[timebethine]

"Then prepare thyself; thou wilt never be safe again. I'll turn up at all hours for a game or a dance or a kiss."

[untamedantinous]

“Mm, I fear I may have given you too much leave.” He laughs a little. “If Sagramore should find this out, I will have no peace, I am sure.”

[timebethine]

"No, he's a thousand times worse than I am; he'll take thee drinking, and thou wilt forget not only thy cares but thine own name."

[untamedantinous]

“Then I will thank you not to tell him I have only been drunk twice before,” laughing a little. “And neither Courfeyrac or I were good company at the time.”

[timebethine]

"I've only been drunk once," Laertes confides. "I have not Sagramore's stomach for liquor."

[untamedantinous]

“I tried it once with Courfeyrac, and then again after the failed revolution in 1830. Neither of us were the best company.”

[timebethine]

"No, I can't imagine thou wert." And that's a keen bolt of sadness lodged in his chest--the thought that drink is not meant to speed merriment or quell grief, but to answer heartache with more heartache. "Needst not drink, here, an thou hast not the inclination. I will not ask it of thee."

[untamedantinous]

“I do not think I will, but this place can surprise a person.” He nudges Laertes with his shoulder, grinning a little. “You are welcome to do the others, though.”

[timebethine]

"I'd love to fence with thee next. The books I've read here tell me that the sport is much changed since my day--it has formalisms of weapon and stance that are new to me. And some of the grips on those foils ..." He shakes his head, laughing. "All the same. I love to watch thee move. It would be a treat, to watch thee fence."

[untamedantinous]

"I am certain you would beat me in a minute, though I have been practicing. But if you would like, we can do it sometime. Or I could show you canne de combat. We've much to occupy ourselves with."

[timebethine]

"So much to look forward to," says Laertes. That's what makes this place a miracle, for him--that he can look upon the future with hope, and savor the anticipation.

[untamedantinous]

"Yes," he agrees, laughing and nudging Laertes again. "I am certainly looking forward to getting trounced by you."