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]

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.

[futaille]

Have a grin back, Enjolras. "Oh, I am an exceedingly practical man, as I have always been."

[untamedantinous]

"Of course you are," extremely dry.

[futaille]

"I am ever so glad we agree, Enjolras." He takes another drink.

[untamedantinous]

"Are you going to go to Sagramore and Laertes' dance?" He hops up on the counter himself, debating on refilling his coffee.

[futaille]

"I intend to. Are you?"

[untamedantinous]

"I have been invited, and told I must dance," with a resigned sigh. "I have not danced since I was still in the south, I think."

[futaille]

"Oh, that you must. I'm sure you were overjoyed at that news." He shrugs. "If you need to practice at any point, I'm willing to help."

[untamedantinous]

“Claudius was quite insistent.” He hops down from the counter to go start himself a cup of instant coffee, and clears his throat. “Perhaps. I don’t even know when it is.”

[futaille]

"Insistent or not, you don't have to go if you'd rather not, though." Another sip. "It would be good to see you there but awful to see you there miserable."

[untamedantinous]

“No, I will go, Laertes and Sagramore would both be pleased if I was there.” He finishes preparing the coffee and returns to his seat on the counter. “Besides, there will be others besides us there as well.” Though he’s not counting Grantaire out for company at all.

[futaille]

"All right." He nods. "But if you change your mind and want to escape unnoticed while you're there, just let me know and I can be extremely obnoxious to draw attention."

[untamedantinous]

“Oh, I don’t know, you are usually so very quiet and calm at functions.”

[futaille]

He grins just a bit. "I'll find it in myself to make the sacrifice."

[untamedantinous]

“Your valor is appreciated, mon ami.”

[futaille]

Grantaire pauses and takes another pull of his drink. He shrugs. "I suppose I had to find some somewhere," is his airy reply.

[untamedantinous]

He laughs and sips his coffee. “In a mansion neither of us could have thought of, two months ago? You may as well.”

[futaille]

He leans back a bit with another shrug. "Well, it provides everything else. Except good boeuf bourguignon, apparently."

[untamedantinous]

“Yes. I haven’t looked for anything more involved than that, yet.”

[futaille]

"Somewhere a drawer full of valor, a cupboard of diligence, who even knows?" He grins. "If I ever find a box of temperance, though, I'm immediately closing it and walking away."