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Dedue Week - Day 2 - Warmth/Scars
As it turns out, he's right in the middle of waiting for some fresh bread to bake when the delivery from the Glouchester territory comes in, and Annette and Raphael peer over at the giant glass cases with wide eyes. "Oh wow!" Annette gushes, marveling at the magical markings that make up the frame. "Lorenz might have a terrible personality, but his dad is certainly really generous!"
Dedue isn't entirely certain that generosity has anything to do with this "donation" from the senior Glouchester. It's been too soon since someone connected to the Riegan family sent over a supply of shrimp in a very similar set up. No doubt that word had spread, quickly, as it often seems to do with nobles.
However, there's no point in dampening the atmosphere, and Dedue returns to the counter that's in front of him. "It will be good to make something new for the rest of the academy," he says simply, because that's true. "However, I am not certain if many here know how to handle that kind of sea life." From within the container, lobsters still scrabble against the glass panes, wanting for the ocean currents instead of a trap.
Raphael looks up at his words, and immediately - scurries is not the right word for a man such as Raphael. He has too much bulk to have such a word attributed to him. Instead, he just hurries, hip bumping against a counter corner, and returns to Dedue's side. "Oh, they're not too hard!" Raphael says cheerfully. "I mean, the shells are hard, because they're shells, but makin' good eatin' out of them is easier than you think! And sorry for gettin' distracted by the fancy stuff that was sent over, Dedue. Hooold on..." He gets right back to kneading more dough, brow furrowed in concentration and tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. There aren't a lot of people who would be fine with kitchen duty and Dedue in the same sentence, but that kind of social grace flies right over Raphael Kirsten's head. Without fail, he happily joins him for things like this, even when it's not his day's duty.
Like today, when they are here to help replace the bread that Annette accidentally set on fire.
Annette, who finally pries herself away from the magic that's helped keep the water and its occupants safe this entire journey here. "You know how to make lobster dishes, Raphael?" she asks, curious and impressed.
One cheek puffed out, he makes a silly but still agreeable popping kind of noise. "I don't know anything fancy, but it was pretty good when we used to eat it, when fishermen would share some of their stuff before it could go to the noble tables and all that," he says. "Especially the ones that weren't as pretty, although I don't know why that mattered. The meat is what's we're eating, so who cares if the shells look pretty?"
"Presentation matters to people who leisurely eat," Dedue says, the two of them making even more bread while the rest bakes. "For survival, or to grow stronger... Those are different priorities."
Raphael gives a sharp and attentive nod of understanding. "Oh, so it's a noble kind of thing!" he exclaims, which isn't far from the truth. "You sure are smart, Dedue."
Something that simple doesn't really deserve any praise, and Dedue shakes his head. "It is hardly worth commenting on," he says, and then moves on before Raphael can argue with him too much on that. "What kind of lobster dishes do you know, Raphael?"
"Oh, could just make a sandwich," he says matter of factly. "Even I can remember that much. Oh, but..." He frowns a little bit, putting the dough in its bowl. "I remember that the bread is pretty important... It's gotta be the soft kind. I remember a ship captain who was real fussy about that. It doesn't taste as good if it isn't a soft bread that's been toasted just a little - that's what he'd always say."
A soft bread that's then toasted... Well. Dedue turns away from their dough counter, going over to the ovens instead. As he pulls out a rack of bread, he gestures to their soft forms. "Would this do?"
It certainly does, as it turns out, and Raphael is more than happy to show them the rest of the steps as he remembers them. At least some thing are comparatively easy. Getting the lobster boiled is the most important step to preparing it, so they let that happen while getting the rest of the ingredients ready. It's a simple dish, all considered. Dedue puts Annette to work washing and cutting the celery, something that will hopefully keep her mind from wandering about too much. Raphael continues to make more bread, since the Academy and monastery both will need a lot of it.
And in the meanwhile, Dedue starts on a particular kind of sauce Raphael described to him: pepper, salt, mustard, white vinegar, oil, and eggs.
"You got a real good hand for this kinda thing," Raphael says approvingly from besides him. Dedue used to think he never paid much mind to the cooking portion of what gave him the food he loves so much, but he's learned that he was mistaken in that, especially since the two of them started going on cooking duty together. "Although you tell me if you feel any aches or anything, alright?"
Pushing some of the chopped up celery to the side so that it can add up to a pile, Annette leans over, her shoulder bumping against Dedue's eblow. "Are your hands aching, Dedue?" she asks. "We could go see Manuela if they are! It's because you're always training all the time, you know."
"You gotta take care of your hands," Raphael says with a sage nod. "Tough guys like us need our hands for everything!"
"And you're a gardener!" Annette gushes.
"And a cook!" In only a few short sentences - things that can barely be called that as a matter of fact - the two of them are suddenly fussing over him, concerned. "You gotta tell us if you're feelin' bad in any kind of way."
"I am fine," Dedue says patiently, and stops what he's doing. He'd just been mixing the ingredients together, and pouring the oil slowly in as he did so. That's something he can stop doing for the time being, in order to show his hand to them both. "As you can see for yourselves."
Raphael and Annette are both shorter than him - Raphael not as much, Annette especially so - and yet somehow they're quite overwhelming as they press up against his sides to look at his hand. It's nothing special, he thinks. There are no doubt plenty of people with hands like his: calloused from the constant handling of an ax or trowel or rolling pin. A part of Dedue likes that about his hands. It means he's still doing things. Still pushing forward as best he can.
A small noise of concern leaves Annette, and she raises a hand, pointing. Not quite touching, although Dedue can tell the intent is there. "Ah, there's a scar! Did Mercedes miss something when she was healing you, the last time we were sent out?"
A scar? Frowning, Dedue reaches down to tug his sleeve just a little further up to see what exactly they're talking about. "Ah," he says. "I see. That is an old one. You do not have to concern yourself with it." It looks bad, yes, a burn scar that discolors the skin and has left it still a little bit warped, there along his forearm... But it's old, and it was shallow even from the start. "It doesn't hurt," he adds after a moment, because he suspects Raphael and Annette are the type who would worry about such a thing.
"It looks like it must have hurt a lot when you got it," Annette says with a frown, even as she gathers all of the chopped up celery into a bowl. "What happened? Oh - if it's okay to ask, of course!"
In a place like Garreg Mach, one should always take care when asking about scars, of course. It is a place full of soldiers, and scars come with a price. Some, like Jeralt Eisner, will slip away from questions like that about themselves, while others such as his child don't seem to recall or care. Then there are those with bitter memories attached to those scars, to the point that it may as well reopen the wound again.
Fortunately, while Dedue has plenty of those sorts of stories, this scar isn't one of them. "It happened when I was a child learning to cook," he says simply, returning to his own share of cooking duty. It will take a lot of stirring to get the consistency he wants, after all. "I accidentally touched some metal that was still too hot. That's all."
Raphael laughs, plopping the latest dough ready to rise in a bowl. "Oh yeah, I have tons of scars like that! What about you, Annette?"
"Eh, well... Maybe a few! More than I'd like..."
"Everyone gets scars like that eventually," Raphael says cheerfully, dusting his hands off when he's moved all the dough to where it needs to be. "And I really like that! Hey, Annette, help me get out all of the bread, I think it should be done! And then we can start getting the meat out of the lobsters!"
Annette hurries to help him out with all of that, letting the bread cool along the counters while they start cleaning meat out from the shells that keep them. "You almost sound like someone from Faerghus," she tells Raphael with a laugh as they work, with Dedue still working on more of that mixture.
"Huh?" Why's that?"
"Faerghus is a country of warriors," Dedue says from over his shoulder, tapping his spoon against the rim of the bowl so that every little bit of mixture drops in. "They may follow a strict rule, but combat is an important part of their life regardless." And so, they're warriors. "Scars hold a lot of weight, there. It's proof that you survived something which could have killed you. Some take pride in that."
Dimitri does, he knows that. "It's proof I got there in time," he murmured to Dedue once, when they were still young, younger than they are now, huddled together as they'd compared the effects of healing magic on their skin. "It's proof that I managed to save even one person."
It's a sentiment that Dedue understands well, even if it's not something that was really ever a part of Duscur's culture.
That does nothing to diminish the feeling he gets when he looks down at his hands, or the burn from a spell hitting his armor, and remembers that, at least if he took it, then that meant Dimitri hadn't. That, at least if he took it, then Dimitri was right there with a lance to spear through their enemies.
There is a comfort in that knowledge.
Rubbing his chin and smearing lobster juice all across it without thinking, Raphael hums. "Yeah, that makes sense," he says. "Still, you don't wanna go so far that you lose your hands. There's a lot you need them for, right?"
"Sometimes it is a matter of knowing when to throw everything you have behind something, if it is important enough," Dedue says, finally satisfied with what he's mixed together. If it came down to it... Then there's no doubt in him that he would give everything, if it meant getting revenge for Duscur, for righting the grievous wrongs against them by those truly behind the Tragedy, if paving for a better future where Duscur could flourish once again...
Passing over a cloth to Raphael so that he can clean his face, Annette shakes her head. "That sort of thing probably won't be important for a long time," she says. "So we shouldn't worry about it, or think such dark thoughts before a meal! Anyway, we have the sauce ready, right?" Beaming, she looks up at Dedue. "So let's see if this lobster is really all that great!"
Well, that's what she says, but the lobster does have to be cut up slightly first, and the bread sliced open and toasted ever so lightly. Once Annette gets the chopping done, Dedue mixes in everything - the lobster, the mixture, lemon juice and some salt and pepper to taste.
And it is an interesting taste, when he tries it. "Hm," he hums simply.
Annette and Raphael try not to vibrate out of their skins, standing on one side of him. "So, how is it?" Annette asks, her overwhelming curiosity getting the better of her. "Is it good?"
"It's satisfactory," Dedue says, adding just a little more lemon juice to the lobster and all its ingredients so that he can mix it in a little more. "Be patient. It will be done shortly. Raphael, do we have enough bread for three sandwiches?" He's barely finished saying anything before Raphael holds out a plate in his direction, three loves of already cut loaves held out to him and toasted, indeed, very lightly.
Dedue takes the whole plate and puts it on the other side of him so that the ravenous pair besides him can't steal the sandwiches away as soon as he's put lobster in.
Stores away in a cool place, covered so that no pests could get into all their hardwork, there's more than enough lobster for them to not have to worry about it for a while. So, together, the three of them sit down at a nearby table. Sometimes it's strange, to be in the kitchens and dining hall when all the other students and knights are elsewhere - doing their own chores, attending lectures, visiting the nearby town. More than anything, however, Dedue finds it peaceful. It is the most peaceful place to be, outside of the greenhouse.
It almost feels as though that peace should be disrupted, with Raphael's large presence leaning against his side, and Annette's cheerful chatter on the other, yet it isn't. It is still as comfortable as anything, funnily enough, or at least as comfortable as he can be in Garreg Mach.
"We can eat now, right?" Raphael asks him, fingers wiggling in the air around his sandwich. Dedue has not the faintest idea of why he's looking to him for permission to eat, but it's certainly what he's doing with big hopeful eyes. When Dedue nods, Raphael lets out a whoop, and immediately takes in the biggest bite that he possibly can. With a mouth like Raphael's, it's fairly big.
Annette, at least a little bit more reserved, still seems to swell up with delight before taking a bite herself. Immediately, sighs of satisfaction ring out on either side of him. "I've never tasted something fresh like this before!" she exclaims. "And the texture is so soft... They isn't meat like this up in Faerghus!"
Likely the water is too cold for too many months out of the year for lobsters and crabs to thrive in it. Dedue knows because Faerghus shares Duscur's stretch of coast. Still, now it's left him curious as well. What else can he do but finally take a bit himself, eyelids lowering just slightly as he lets the taste wash over his tongue? It's a much different taste compared to the fish they often eat here in the monastery, and even back in Fhirdiad. Different from Duscan cooking as well. But that soft texture of the lobster, just enough of the sauce to keep all of the lobster close together while not being overwhelming...
It takes him a second to realize that Annette and Raphael are staring intensely at him, and he wordlessly raises an eyebrow. Flushing with embarrassment, Annette flutters her hand about. "Oh- I'm sorry about that! It's just, Dimitri always says you get a particular look on your face when you really, really enjoy a dish, and I was trying to figure out if this was it!"
"I was just tryin' to figure out what Annette was looking at," Raphael offers, living such an uncomplicated life that one can't help but envy it sometimes.
"It's fine," Dedue tells her, because he can tell this is going to become A Thing now. Those close to Dimitri in the Blue Lions house, he's learned, very easily making things into Things, emphasized. "I don't mind it."
"Then I'll definitely make it for you again!" Annette announces, clenching the first that's not holding a half eaten lobster sandwich. "I'll master it, and make it for you whenever I can, as thanks "Then I'll definitely make it for you again!" Annette announces, clenching the first that's not holding a half eaten lobster sandwich. "I'll master it, and make it for you whenever I can, as thanks for helping me with cooking so much, and protecting me all the time when we go out to battle! Those kinds of things are why you get scars, right? I'll help you avoid anymore!" She pauses. "Hey, what's the stare for?" helping me with cooking so much, and protecting me all the time when we go out to battle!" She pauses. "Hey, what's the stare for?"
It's hard to know where to start. The fact that they likely won't get lobster again? Annete's track record of being in the kitchen? "It's fine if you don't go to all this effort for me," he says at last, returning to his meal. "I do not need thanks for this much."
Still, for someone to care this much about something as minor as that, just for him...
"Still, thank you."
Dedue isn't entirely certain that generosity has anything to do with this "donation" from the senior Glouchester. It's been too soon since someone connected to the Riegan family sent over a supply of shrimp in a very similar set up. No doubt that word had spread, quickly, as it often seems to do with nobles.
However, there's no point in dampening the atmosphere, and Dedue returns to the counter that's in front of him. "It will be good to make something new for the rest of the academy," he says simply, because that's true. "However, I am not certain if many here know how to handle that kind of sea life." From within the container, lobsters still scrabble against the glass panes, wanting for the ocean currents instead of a trap.
Raphael looks up at his words, and immediately - scurries is not the right word for a man such as Raphael. He has too much bulk to have such a word attributed to him. Instead, he just hurries, hip bumping against a counter corner, and returns to Dedue's side. "Oh, they're not too hard!" Raphael says cheerfully. "I mean, the shells are hard, because they're shells, but makin' good eatin' out of them is easier than you think! And sorry for gettin' distracted by the fancy stuff that was sent over, Dedue. Hooold on..." He gets right back to kneading more dough, brow furrowed in concentration and tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. There aren't a lot of people who would be fine with kitchen duty and Dedue in the same sentence, but that kind of social grace flies right over Raphael Kirsten's head. Without fail, he happily joins him for things like this, even when it's not his day's duty.
Like today, when they are here to help replace the bread that Annette accidentally set on fire.
Annette, who finally pries herself away from the magic that's helped keep the water and its occupants safe this entire journey here. "You know how to make lobster dishes, Raphael?" she asks, curious and impressed.
One cheek puffed out, he makes a silly but still agreeable popping kind of noise. "I don't know anything fancy, but it was pretty good when we used to eat it, when fishermen would share some of their stuff before it could go to the noble tables and all that," he says. "Especially the ones that weren't as pretty, although I don't know why that mattered. The meat is what's we're eating, so who cares if the shells look pretty?"
"Presentation matters to people who leisurely eat," Dedue says, the two of them making even more bread while the rest bakes. "For survival, or to grow stronger... Those are different priorities."
Raphael gives a sharp and attentive nod of understanding. "Oh, so it's a noble kind of thing!" he exclaims, which isn't far from the truth. "You sure are smart, Dedue."
Something that simple doesn't really deserve any praise, and Dedue shakes his head. "It is hardly worth commenting on," he says, and then moves on before Raphael can argue with him too much on that. "What kind of lobster dishes do you know, Raphael?"
"Oh, could just make a sandwich," he says matter of factly. "Even I can remember that much. Oh, but..." He frowns a little bit, putting the dough in its bowl. "I remember that the bread is pretty important... It's gotta be the soft kind. I remember a ship captain who was real fussy about that. It doesn't taste as good if it isn't a soft bread that's been toasted just a little - that's what he'd always say."
A soft bread that's then toasted... Well. Dedue turns away from their dough counter, going over to the ovens instead. As he pulls out a rack of bread, he gestures to their soft forms. "Would this do?"
It certainly does, as it turns out, and Raphael is more than happy to show them the rest of the steps as he remembers them. At least some thing are comparatively easy. Getting the lobster boiled is the most important step to preparing it, so they let that happen while getting the rest of the ingredients ready. It's a simple dish, all considered. Dedue puts Annette to work washing and cutting the celery, something that will hopefully keep her mind from wandering about too much. Raphael continues to make more bread, since the Academy and monastery both will need a lot of it.
And in the meanwhile, Dedue starts on a particular kind of sauce Raphael described to him: pepper, salt, mustard, white vinegar, oil, and eggs.
"You got a real good hand for this kinda thing," Raphael says approvingly from besides him. Dedue used to think he never paid much mind to the cooking portion of what gave him the food he loves so much, but he's learned that he was mistaken in that, especially since the two of them started going on cooking duty together. "Although you tell me if you feel any aches or anything, alright?"
Pushing some of the chopped up celery to the side so that it can add up to a pile, Annette leans over, her shoulder bumping against Dedue's eblow. "Are your hands aching, Dedue?" she asks. "We could go see Manuela if they are! It's because you're always training all the time, you know."
"You gotta take care of your hands," Raphael says with a sage nod. "Tough guys like us need our hands for everything!"
"And you're a gardener!" Annette gushes.
"And a cook!" In only a few short sentences - things that can barely be called that as a matter of fact - the two of them are suddenly fussing over him, concerned. "You gotta tell us if you're feelin' bad in any kind of way."
"I am fine," Dedue says patiently, and stops what he's doing. He'd just been mixing the ingredients together, and pouring the oil slowly in as he did so. That's something he can stop doing for the time being, in order to show his hand to them both. "As you can see for yourselves."
Raphael and Annette are both shorter than him - Raphael not as much, Annette especially so - and yet somehow they're quite overwhelming as they press up against his sides to look at his hand. It's nothing special, he thinks. There are no doubt plenty of people with hands like his: calloused from the constant handling of an ax or trowel or rolling pin. A part of Dedue likes that about his hands. It means he's still doing things. Still pushing forward as best he can.
A small noise of concern leaves Annette, and she raises a hand, pointing. Not quite touching, although Dedue can tell the intent is there. "Ah, there's a scar! Did Mercedes miss something when she was healing you, the last time we were sent out?"
A scar? Frowning, Dedue reaches down to tug his sleeve just a little further up to see what exactly they're talking about. "Ah," he says. "I see. That is an old one. You do not have to concern yourself with it." It looks bad, yes, a burn scar that discolors the skin and has left it still a little bit warped, there along his forearm... But it's old, and it was shallow even from the start. "It doesn't hurt," he adds after a moment, because he suspects Raphael and Annette are the type who would worry about such a thing.
"It looks like it must have hurt a lot when you got it," Annette says with a frown, even as she gathers all of the chopped up celery into a bowl. "What happened? Oh - if it's okay to ask, of course!"
In a place like Garreg Mach, one should always take care when asking about scars, of course. It is a place full of soldiers, and scars come with a price. Some, like Jeralt Eisner, will slip away from questions like that about themselves, while others such as his child don't seem to recall or care. Then there are those with bitter memories attached to those scars, to the point that it may as well reopen the wound again.
Fortunately, while Dedue has plenty of those sorts of stories, this scar isn't one of them. "It happened when I was a child learning to cook," he says simply, returning to his own share of cooking duty. It will take a lot of stirring to get the consistency he wants, after all. "I accidentally touched some metal that was still too hot. That's all."
Raphael laughs, plopping the latest dough ready to rise in a bowl. "Oh yeah, I have tons of scars like that! What about you, Annette?"
"Eh, well... Maybe a few! More than I'd like..."
"Everyone gets scars like that eventually," Raphael says cheerfully, dusting his hands off when he's moved all the dough to where it needs to be. "And I really like that! Hey, Annette, help me get out all of the bread, I think it should be done! And then we can start getting the meat out of the lobsters!"
Annette hurries to help him out with all of that, letting the bread cool along the counters while they start cleaning meat out from the shells that keep them. "You almost sound like someone from Faerghus," she tells Raphael with a laugh as they work, with Dedue still working on more of that mixture.
"Huh?" Why's that?"
"Faerghus is a country of warriors," Dedue says from over his shoulder, tapping his spoon against the rim of the bowl so that every little bit of mixture drops in. "They may follow a strict rule, but combat is an important part of their life regardless." And so, they're warriors. "Scars hold a lot of weight, there. It's proof that you survived something which could have killed you. Some take pride in that."
Dimitri does, he knows that. "It's proof I got there in time," he murmured to Dedue once, when they were still young, younger than they are now, huddled together as they'd compared the effects of healing magic on their skin. "It's proof that I managed to save even one person."
It's a sentiment that Dedue understands well, even if it's not something that was really ever a part of Duscur's culture.
That does nothing to diminish the feeling he gets when he looks down at his hands, or the burn from a spell hitting his armor, and remembers that, at least if he took it, then that meant Dimitri hadn't. That, at least if he took it, then Dimitri was right there with a lance to spear through their enemies.
There is a comfort in that knowledge.
Rubbing his chin and smearing lobster juice all across it without thinking, Raphael hums. "Yeah, that makes sense," he says. "Still, you don't wanna go so far that you lose your hands. There's a lot you need them for, right?"
"Sometimes it is a matter of knowing when to throw everything you have behind something, if it is important enough," Dedue says, finally satisfied with what he's mixed together. If it came down to it... Then there's no doubt in him that he would give everything, if it meant getting revenge for Duscur, for righting the grievous wrongs against them by those truly behind the Tragedy, if paving for a better future where Duscur could flourish once again...
Passing over a cloth to Raphael so that he can clean his face, Annette shakes her head. "That sort of thing probably won't be important for a long time," she says. "So we shouldn't worry about it, or think such dark thoughts before a meal! Anyway, we have the sauce ready, right?" Beaming, she looks up at Dedue. "So let's see if this lobster is really all that great!"
Well, that's what she says, but the lobster does have to be cut up slightly first, and the bread sliced open and toasted ever so lightly. Once Annette gets the chopping done, Dedue mixes in everything - the lobster, the mixture, lemon juice and some salt and pepper to taste.
And it is an interesting taste, when he tries it. "Hm," he hums simply.
Annette and Raphael try not to vibrate out of their skins, standing on one side of him. "So, how is it?" Annette asks, her overwhelming curiosity getting the better of her. "Is it good?"
"It's satisfactory," Dedue says, adding just a little more lemon juice to the lobster and all its ingredients so that he can mix it in a little more. "Be patient. It will be done shortly. Raphael, do we have enough bread for three sandwiches?" He's barely finished saying anything before Raphael holds out a plate in his direction, three loves of already cut loaves held out to him and toasted, indeed, very lightly.
Dedue takes the whole plate and puts it on the other side of him so that the ravenous pair besides him can't steal the sandwiches away as soon as he's put lobster in.
Stores away in a cool place, covered so that no pests could get into all their hardwork, there's more than enough lobster for them to not have to worry about it for a while. So, together, the three of them sit down at a nearby table. Sometimes it's strange, to be in the kitchens and dining hall when all the other students and knights are elsewhere - doing their own chores, attending lectures, visiting the nearby town. More than anything, however, Dedue finds it peaceful. It is the most peaceful place to be, outside of the greenhouse.
It almost feels as though that peace should be disrupted, with Raphael's large presence leaning against his side, and Annette's cheerful chatter on the other, yet it isn't. It is still as comfortable as anything, funnily enough, or at least as comfortable as he can be in Garreg Mach.
"We can eat now, right?" Raphael asks him, fingers wiggling in the air around his sandwich. Dedue has not the faintest idea of why he's looking to him for permission to eat, but it's certainly what he's doing with big hopeful eyes. When Dedue nods, Raphael lets out a whoop, and immediately takes in the biggest bite that he possibly can. With a mouth like Raphael's, it's fairly big.
Annette, at least a little bit more reserved, still seems to swell up with delight before taking a bite herself. Immediately, sighs of satisfaction ring out on either side of him. "I've never tasted something fresh like this before!" she exclaims. "And the texture is so soft... They isn't meat like this up in Faerghus!"
Likely the water is too cold for too many months out of the year for lobsters and crabs to thrive in it. Dedue knows because Faerghus shares Duscur's stretch of coast. Still, now it's left him curious as well. What else can he do but finally take a bit himself, eyelids lowering just slightly as he lets the taste wash over his tongue? It's a much different taste compared to the fish they often eat here in the monastery, and even back in Fhirdiad. Different from Duscan cooking as well. But that soft texture of the lobster, just enough of the sauce to keep all of the lobster close together while not being overwhelming...
It takes him a second to realize that Annette and Raphael are staring intensely at him, and he wordlessly raises an eyebrow. Flushing with embarrassment, Annette flutters her hand about. "Oh- I'm sorry about that! It's just, Dimitri always says you get a particular look on your face when you really, really enjoy a dish, and I was trying to figure out if this was it!"
"I was just tryin' to figure out what Annette was looking at," Raphael offers, living such an uncomplicated life that one can't help but envy it sometimes.
"It's fine," Dedue tells her, because he can tell this is going to become A Thing now. Those close to Dimitri in the Blue Lions house, he's learned, very easily making things into Things, emphasized. "I don't mind it."
"Then I'll definitely make it for you again!" Annette announces, clenching the first that's not holding a half eaten lobster sandwich. "I'll master it, and make it for you whenever I can, as thanks "Then I'll definitely make it for you again!" Annette announces, clenching the first that's not holding a half eaten lobster sandwich. "I'll master it, and make it for you whenever I can, as thanks for helping me with cooking so much, and protecting me all the time when we go out to battle! Those kinds of things are why you get scars, right? I'll help you avoid anymore!" She pauses. "Hey, what's the stare for?" helping me with cooking so much, and protecting me all the time when we go out to battle!" She pauses. "Hey, what's the stare for?"
It's hard to know where to start. The fact that they likely won't get lobster again? Annete's track record of being in the kitchen? "It's fine if you don't go to all this effort for me," he says at last, returning to his meal. "I do not need thanks for this much."
Still, for someone to care this much about something as minor as that, just for him...
"Still, thank you."