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]

"Alright then," agreeably. "What shall we talk of?"

[futaille]

He hops back up onto the counter and opens his bottle, taking a sip. "So, how bad was the boeuf bourguignon to inspire you to bake?"

[untamedantinous]

He wrinkles his nose. “Truly terrible. It was barely seasoned, the wine wasn’t even good.”

[futaille]

Observe a dramatic recoil. "Oh! The tragedy!"

[untamedantinous]

“Well, perhaps some things do not translate well to the house-provided food.”

[futaille]

"Still. Truly awful for you to have to experience."

[untamedantinous]

"Yes," solemnly. "It was life-shattering."

[futaille]

"Or at least stomach-shattering, I would assume."

[untamedantinous]

"I wouldn't go quite that far. Suffice to say, it was not the best introduction to French food for Little John."

[futaille]

"An insult to both our cuisine and him, in that case. Good to see you trying to rectify it."

[untamedantinous]

"Perhaps the baguette will be a decent peace offering, though considering his size, I do not think it will fill him up."

[futaille]

"Considering his size, I don't think a dozen baguettes would fill him."

[untamedantinous]

"Probably not, no," laughing a little. "He is good company, though."

[futaille]

"Oh, extraordinarily good company! A most amiable man."

[untamedantinous]

He slants a half-amused, half-resigned look Grantaire's way. "You got drunk with him, didn't you."

[futaille]

His answering grin is bright and shameless ."We may have had a drinking contest, yes."

[untamedantinous]

"A contest. I hesitate to ask who won."

[futaille]

"Oh, you can ask all you want, but I honestly can't say I remember the answer."

[untamedantinous]

"Of course not." He busies himself with taking a sip of coffee.

[futaille]

He takes a sip of his beer. "It was a light wager anyway. A tour against teaching a game of some kind, so I'm satisfied regardless."

[untamedantinous]

"Well, I'm certain you've discovered a number of games here."

[futaille]

"And yet I'm always happy to learn more." He pauses, thinking back. "Although I think he may have wanted to teach me archery."

[untamedantinous]

"I do not think I would trust you with a flying, sharp object." There is no sharpness in it, clearly meant teasingly.

[futaille]

"That's just the thing! I don't think I would trust me with a flying, sharp object," he says, laughing.

[untamedantinous]

"Well, at least you see sense in that regard," with a grin.