OOM: Oswin's Visit To Goldkrone

[herr_bookman]

The morning mist has burned away this Saturday, and the cobblestone streets glisten with dew in Goldkrone. People mill around, getting ready for the day and greeting one another. There are no cars on the streets, but the occasional horse is put to use. Autor leads Oswin through a door near his school from Milliways.

"[Remember,]" he says in French, "[I've told my mother you're coming, so try to... I don't know, act natural? But not too natural. I don't want her scandalized.]"

Comments

[souffle_girlek]

"[Oh, I think she'll be fine. After all, I've taught her brother, I think I know the way of it.]"

It's... much harder than she thought not to flirt. Really.

Putting together the dough really isn't that much harder than her usual types of treats. Besides, now she has a tiny helper to fetch trays and tools.

[herr_bookman]

Autor doesn't bother to translate the last bit, lest it raise questions about where he's been baking.

Clara obediently hands over tools and bowls, measuring flour and water when Oswin lets her. Soon the dough is ready to be kneaded, and Clara steps back to watch Oswin work.

Autor keeps a running commentary between them, translating when necessary. "::Miss Oswald, Clara says you should probably knead the dough yourself. She's too little.::"

[souffle_girlek]

"[I could kneed the dough with her - she's hardly bigger than a rolling pin.]" Oswin teases, but soon she sets the dough aside to rise.

"[So, what should I see here in town, while I'm employed by the school?]"

[herr_bookman]

Autor translate the question for his mother, who responds, "::The bell tower gives a nice aerial view of the entire town. And the lake is lovely in better weather. Oh, and the Scharlachrennen, a horse riding tournament. There are also several museums available.::"

Autor relays this to Oswin and adds, "[Save a horse...]"

[souffle_girlek]

"[Awww, without a blush too, in front of your mum.]" Oswin grins. "[That does all sound very nice - the last place I stayed was terribly cold]"

[herr_bookman]

"[I know, I'm being corrupted by the hour,]" Autor says, smiling through his new blush. He translates the last part of what Oswin said for his mother, who slants him a look over the state of his cheeks.

"::Do you like music?::" she asks, slicing the eggplants. "::Maybe Autorchen can play the piano for us later.::"

"[She wants to know if you like music, and she's volunteering me to play the piano,]" Autor says.

[souffle_girlek]

"[Oh, yes!]" Oswin beams, making sure her enthusiasm for this idea will defeat any attempt by Autor to mangle the translation. "[I have heard that Autor is a most talented music student.]"

[herr_bookman]

"[Wait, what?]" Autor says, rubbing his cheek. "::Mutterchen, she's happy to hear me play.::"

"::I can see that, son,::" Erna says, with a wry smile.

"::Autorchen is very good at the piano, you'll see,::" Clara pipes up cheerfully, prompting a squeak from her brother.

"::Clara, that's bragging,::" Autor says, but translates it anyway.

[souffle_girlek]

"[Perhaps his playing will distract from my rolls. I don't think he shows off enough, do you?]" Oswin asks the little girl as she pulls the dough out of its bowl to punch it down and make the final rolls.

[herr_bookman]

"[That's just ridiculous,]" Autor says, executing an exaggerated sniff.

"::What did she say?::" Clara says, tugging on his blazer again.

"::She said I don't show off enough,::" Autor says, harrumphing.

"::Oh, I like her,::" Erna says, whipping a few eggs together with milk. "::She's right, you know. You don't show off enough.::"

"::Mutterchen,::" Autor starts, but a look from Clara quells him. "::Ah, fine. I'll play the piano.::" He adjusts his glasses. "[Miss Oswald, would you like me to play now or wait until later?]"

[souffle_girlek]

Oswin knows the tone of someone being ganged up on. She snickers, and refrains from ruffling his hair with her dough and flour covered hands.

"[Is there some reason we can't have both?]"

[herr_bookman]

"[We can have both,]" Autor says, exasperated. "[I know just what to play.]"

He leads the three women into the great room and sits down at the piano. He lovingly caresses the keys before launching into a jazzy rendition of the Habanera, one of Oswin's favorites.

[souffle_girlek]

Honestly, he should play more often. He looks so much happier playing.

And he's really good at it too. She can' curl up as she is accustomed to in this dress, but she does make herself comfortable in one of the chairs.

[herr_bookman]

Autor glances at her over his shoulder. He smiles a little and effortlessly transitions to Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu, followed by Debussy's Arabesque no. 1. He shakes his hands out between songs, but continues with the Clair de Lune and Satie's Trois Gymnopedies.

Leaning back on the seat, he cracks his knuckles. "[I think that's enough showing off,]" he says, though that soft, contented smile still rests on his lips.

[souffle_girlek]

There's some muttering at the French, but when Oswin claps, most everyone recalls childhood manners and claps as well.

Sometimes it's good to have societal rules to fall back on.

"[Clearly doesn't happen often enough.]"

[herr_bookman]

The inn's guests return to reading their newspapers. Erna squeezes Autor's shoulder. "::Well done, son.::"

"::Yes, Autorchen, well done!::" Clara says, wrapping her arms about his waist.

"::Ah, thank you,::" Autor says, his cheeks dusted with pink. "[Should we get back to cooking now?] ::Should we get back to cooking now, Mutterchen?::"

"::Yes, that's probably for the best,::" she says, and heads back to the kitchen.

[souffle_girlek]

"[Silly, you should show off more often.]" Oswin scolds as they head back to the baking. "[And do the rolls look right? I didn't want to ask in front of your mum.]"

[herr_bookman]

Autor glances over the rolls, which have doubled in size, as soon as they get back. "[Yeah, they look fine,]" he says, tilting his head. "[You shouldn't be so nervous about them.]"

Erna sets the breaded eggplant and mushrooms inside the oven and starts work on the lemon caper sauce. She already has a pot set to boil for the potatoes. "::Autorchen, tell her the oven is ready for her use.::"

"[My mother says the oven is ready for you,]" Autor says. "[How are you holding up?]"

[souffle_girlek]

"[This is awesome, I'm fine.]" She smirks at him, scoring the bread and carefully sliding the trays into the oven.

[herr_bookman]

"[Good,]" Autor says, beaming at her. "[I'm glad you're having a good time.]"

Erna removes the capers and oil from the heat and adds lemon juice and parsley. She sets the sauce aside after stirring and starts slicing potatoes. "::Autorchen, ask your friend what her favorite foods to bake are, please.::"

"[My mother wants to know what your favorite foods to bake are,]" Autor translates.

[souffle_girlek]

"[... Well, souffles, but you knew that. And. Um. I don't know. Other things?]" That question does stymie her a bit.

[herr_bookman]

"::She likes soufflés,::" Autor says to his mother, who nods thoughtfully.

"::I've never been good at soufflés,::" she confesses, and Autor translates. She tosses the potatoes in the pot of boiling water. "::They fall too often.::"

Clara leans against Autor's side. "::I'm hungry.::"

"::Run along and play, Clara,::" Erna says, and Clara bounces off. "::Your rolls are baking nicely.::"

"[She says your rolls are baking nicely,]" Autor says. "[They smell good, too.]"

[souffle_girlek]

Oswin abuses Autor's ability to translate to trade tips for getting souffles to work with Autor's mum while the rolls slowly brown. She fails to mention that some days the souffles still don't work for her either.

When she pulls out the tray of rolls, she has to fight to not do a jig of 'yay omg they worked' when they actually look like real rolls.

[herr_bookman]

Erna finishes tossing the green beans and potatoes in olive oil and herbs, and serves them on a fresh bed of spinach. She covers the eggplant and mushrooms with the lemon caper sauce, and declares them done.

Erna rings the dinner bell, and the inn's guests begin filing in. A younger, redheaded man and his pretty wife enter the room. The redhead smiles at Erna. "::This looks wonderful, thank you,::" he says.

Clara comes bouncing in, and an older gentlemen with a scraggly beard follows behind her. Next comes a reedy man and a man in a hat going back and forth in a flurry of German too fast for Autor to translate. "[They're talking politics,]" he explains to Oswin. "[It's very boring.]" From his narrow-eyed stare, however, it's anything but.

[souffle_girlek]

"[Liar liar pants on fire.]" Oswin sing-songs under her breath, tough her expression also becomes cold. These are the people getting everyone all spun up. The ones that are going to cause the war that hurts her friend.

It's tough not to throw something at them. Like a roll. Throwing one of those rolls would hurt.