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aupairadventures · 5 years

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Nantes: My favorite places in my favorite city

Yesterday, I spent the day with my friend Laura, an au pair from Colombia that I met in my French class. Since Laura only arrived in Nantes several weeks ago, we decided that it would be a good idea for me to take her on a little tour of this incredible city. As the two of us were walking around on an unseasonably warm and sunny February day, I was reminded of why I find this city so beautiful and why it’s so special to me.

I loved seeing the look of awe on Laura’s face as we explored all of Nantes’ wonders, and it reminded me so much of what it was like to set foot in this city for the first time. When I first moved here, this city absolutely terrified me. I, a girl from a small town in Massachusetts, initially felt uneasy around all the hustle and bustle. The whirling and crowded city felt so alien and foreign to me, and at first, I feared that I would never adjust. However, I could not have been more wrong. After some initial hesitation, I fell in the love with Nantes; and when I fell, I fell hard and fast. This city has taught me so much about the beauty of embracing your fears and welcoming the unknown into your life.

I may not be a born-Nantaise, but within the past few months, this city has become my home. Before I found my host family last April, I had never even heard of this place. Now, several months later, I can’t imagine my life without it. Since I moved here, this city has come to mean so much to me and had become very dear to my heart. Perhaps it’s because of the city’s stunning architecture or rich culture and history. Perhaps it’s because of its bustling, vibrant nature or its abundance of places to explore and things to do. Maybe it’s because last year, this city welcomed me with open arms and made me feel a sense of belonging, even though I was thousands of miles away from everything I had ever known. It might be because this city has been the setting of many of my firsts, and has been the backdrop to so many new experiences and adventures. Perhaps it’s because I have found a family here and have created strong friendships that I know will last a lifetime. Maybe it’s because my friends and I have made memories in every corner of this city, or because I can’t look at a single thing in this place without being reminded of happy memories and feeling a wave of bittersweet nostalgia. It breaks my heart to know that I will have to leave this city one day, but I am comforted by the knowledge that I will certainly be back to Nantes to visit many times in the coming years. Who knows, maybe this city is where I’ll raise my children one day; I love the sound of that.

As you can see, Nantes is without a doubt one of my favorite cities. Of course, I know that I’m quite biased on this, but there are so many reasons to love this place. I highly recommend this destination to any and all travelers; I bet that you’ll come to love this city just as much as I do.

Still not convinced? Let me tell you about my favorite places in Nantes, and I’m sure that by the time you finish reading this, you’ll be on Skyscanner booking a flight.

1) Le Château des Ducs de Bretagne

How incredible is it that I walk by an actual castle every day on my way to French class? This castle is a must-see for any travelers visiting Nantes. You can walk around the courtyard on the inside, have a picnic on the grass on a sunny day, walk around the wall of the castle and be rewarded with a beautiful view, or even go down the slide attached to the side of the structure! Just across the tram tracks lies The Water Mirror. During the summer, lots of people love coming here to splash in the fountain or sunbath on the nearby grass. But, when the water is completely still, you can see a beautiful reflection of the castle in it. Within the castle, there are two museums: Le Musée d’Histoire Urbaine and another museum for temporary expositions. Several weeks ago, some friends and I went to an exposition called “Cimarron,” which was a colorful, beautiful, and moving contemporary photography exhibit.

2.) Le Musée des Beaux Arts

If you love art or just enjoy museums, be sure to check at Le Musée des Beaux-Arts. The best part? On the first Sunday of each month, the majority of museums in Nantes are totally free of charge!

3.) La Cathédrale Saint-Pierre-et-Saint-Paul de Nantes

The architecture of this cathedral is nothing short of stunning! This was one of the first places in Nantes that I visited with my host family when I arrived, and it was also the place that my friend Ellie and I used as our meeting spot the first time that we met up, so the thought of the cathedral and the memories I’ve made there always brings a smile to my face.

4) Le Jardin des Plantes

Le Jardin des Plantes is easily my absolute favorite place in Nantes. I could write pages about why I love it so much. This beautiful botanical garden, which is open to the public free of charge, is complete with a playground, walking trails, a cafe, greenhouses, flower and herb gardens, lots of trees, fountains, sculptures, lots of birds, a merry-go-round, and even a goat petting zoo. The garden is absolutely gorgeous; filled with brightly colored blossoms and greenery everywhere, it’s like a little slice of paradise. When the weather is nice, it’s my favorite place to go for a walk, have a picnic with friends, grab a pain au chocolat at the nearby boulangerie and sit in the sunshine, or find a shady bench to read or journal. Au Pair Super Tip: This is the perfect place to take your host kids! They’ll love the playground, the merry go round, and the petting zoo, and walking around here is a great way for the kids to play outside and get some exercise.

5) Shopping

Nantes is the perfect city for those who love to shop. There’s an abundance of chic fashion stores, vintage shops, and adorable boutiques. When visiting Nantes, be sure to check out Le Passage Pommeraye, a beautiful shopping center built in the 1800s.

6) Restaurants:

In Nantes, there’s certainly no shortage of great cafes and restaurants. Looking for a delicious croissant, baguette, or macaron? You can find all that and more in one of the many different boulangeries or patisseries. On the search for a crêpe or a galette? In any city in the Brittany region, you’re sure to find tons of creperies. Want to grab coffee with a friend and spend hours chatting in a cute café? Try Le Select, a great cafe with a vintage vibe, or La Maison d’Elise, a cat cafe. Yes, a cafe that doubles as a cat shelter! (How adorable.) Even if your searching for healthy, vegan food, Nantes has you covered! In fact, two of my favorite places in Nantes or the TreeHouse, a vegan café/grocery store, and Totem, an incredible vegan restaurant with the most amazing vegan desserts I’ve ever had.

7) Le Jardin Japonais

If you’re looking to find some more nature when in the city, look no further than Le Jardin Japonais (The Japanese Garden) located on L’ile de Versailles. Filled with red maple trees, walking paths, streams, bamboo plants, and even rocky waterfalls, this little garden is another great place to spend a sunny, Autumn day.

8) Architecture:

I have to say, I love the architecture in the Bretagne area, especially here in Nantes. Whenever I’m walking around the city, I can’t help but look up to stare at the buildings around me. I mean, just look at how pretty these buildings are! Whether it be in Nantes, Paris, or Toulouse, my favorite part of French architecture are the balconies that adorn the historic buildings.

9) Les Machines de l'île

“The Machines of the Isle of Nantes” is an artistic exposition located in the former shipyards of Nantes. Several artists created many different gigantic, robotic animals. The most famous of these robotic works of art is the Elephant, a 12-meter high creation that passengers can climb aboard and be taken on a 45 ride around the area. Just watch out: The Elephant will spray water from its trunk when you least expect it! (Take it from my host kid; who got absolutely drenched the last time we visited.)

10) Le Lieu Unique

One of the coolest places in Nantes is the Lieu Unique. While the building actually used to be a factory for the French biscuit brand LU, it now serves as a location for a vibrant cultural center with an abundance of things to do. Visitors can eat in the cafe or restaurant, shop in the bookstore, grab a drink in the bar, get a massage or relax in the sauna in the spa, see a contemporary art exposition, or go to one of many different performances, concerts or live music events.

11) Le Tour Bretagne

One of my absolute favorite places in Nantes is the Tour Bretagne. While it may just look like a skyscraper filled with administrative offices from the outside, this tower has a secret: For one euro, you can ride the elevator to the top floor (over 30 stories high!). There, you’ll find a funky, bird-themed bar called “Le Nid” (“The Nest”), which is one of my favorite places to go out with friends. After getting a drink and hanging out in one of their egg-shaped chairs, you can go out on the balcony and see the most incredible view of Nantes. Whether you see it during the day, as the sun is setting, or late at night, this view is always sure to stun. From the top of this tower, you can see the entire city from a bird’s eye view, which makes all the buildings (Even the cathedral!) look tiny enough to be doll furniture. I love spending time on the balcony and looking out over this city, as it reminds me about why this beautiful city is so special to me, the countless memories I have made here, and why love Nantes so fiercely.

#nantes #france #travel #photography

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buttsonthebeach · 6 years

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PROMPT: penelope + leah, "licking your fingers clean of her."

AT LAST. We shall be a fandom of two (2) people with WLW farmers in Stardew Valley.

Obviously not Dragon Age. I do love Stardew Valley for those who didn’t know that! This will be on AO3 very very soon.

Pairing: Female Player x Leah / Penelope x Leah, Stardew Valley

Rating: Explicit! Sexy times and also cursing.

Note: Bit of a character study, some spoilers for Leah’s romance.

**************

Penelope liked facts and figures. She made a mean spreadsheet. It was what Joja Corporation hired her for. Her degree in biology was uninteresting to them. Her minute attention to detail and near obsessive need for planners and organization? That they could use. For eight hours a day. In a dimly lit cubicle. She could plan the shit out of their payroll and organize their files for new hires and -

Fuck. Just thinking about it made her feel claustrophobic all over again.

So the whole point of coming to Stardew Valley, to Grandpa’s farm, was to get away from all that.

And now she found herself sitting on the porch of her newly renovated farmhouse, her cat Jin rolling around in a sunbeam on the porch, staring at a spreadsheet of her expected yields and profits from her last fall harvest, and projections of how much she would need to mine over the winter if she wanted to a) eat b) renovate the house again and c) buy more animals to sell more animal products so she wouldn’t have to break her back all winter in the mine.

Fuck.

It was then that she heard the heavy drag of footsteps coming up the gravel path she’d laid down - the one that ran between her young cherry saplings, past the small pond, and towards Cindersnap Forest. She looked up from her laptop and shaded her eyes against the early morning sunshine. Someone was coming towards her - red hair - Leah?

Leah, who’d barely spoken a word to her at first, who she only met by chance one Friday in the Stardrop Saloon in late spring because she rarely left her cabin. Leah who tucked her hair behind her ears over and over again when she was nervous and let it fall out of its braid when she waved her hands excitedly, discussing her latest sculpture and how it conveyed the utter isolation of a crowded subway platform in Zuzu City.

Leah who seemed so unflappable until she got on the phone with Kel, her ex-girlfriend.

Leah who was scared to show off her sculptures to anyone but Penelope.

Leah.

Fuck.

Leah made Penelope’s heart speed up the way only one other person had before - Marie, her college sweetheart, the woman who abruptly broke her heart the night before they were supposed to move into their first apartment together. Which led to her taking the job at Joja to afford the place since she couldn’t get out of the lease, instead of getting her masters in microbiology the way she’d planned. Which led to her gaining twenty pounds as she binge-watched Wynonna Earp and sampled every single Ben and Jerry’s flavor they sold at her local (you guessed it) Joja Mart.

Which ultimately led to her sitting on this sunny porch worrying about eggplants and why on earth it was she wasn’t allowed to use a goddamn gun to kill the monsters in the mine (she was shit at the slingshot).

Which ultimately led to Leah, walking up the gravel path, making her heart beat the way she thought it never would again.

Leah had a statue behind her. She was dragging it on some kind of dolley behind her. It was at least as tall as she was, and brown as the corduroy pants she wore no matter the season (brown as her kind eyes). Her face was flushed with effort but she was beaming as she made her way to the house.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” she assured Penelope, waving off her offer of assistance. On the porch, Jin stood and arched her back and meowed plaintively at Leah, as if she hadn’t already been pet and coddled for half an hour that morning while Penelope lay in bed.

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Leah said when she reached the farmhouse, beaming despite her sweat.

“Sure is,” Penelope replied, her heart speeding up again. Leah kept right on beaming.

“I’ve got a gift for you. It’s a sculpture I’ve been working on just for you. Well, you probably figured that out. Ta-da!” She waved to the sculpture with a flourish. It was mahogany, and nearly as tall as Penelope herself. It looked like it was made of a series of loops rising organically out of the earth.

“It’s called How I Feel About Penelope,” Leah said. There she went with the tucking-the-hair-behind-the-ears. How I feel about Penelope. Leah who was so shy she had to speak through wood to make herself heard.

So what was this sculpture saying?

Penelope knew she should have taken that art history elective.

“It’s amazing,” Penelope said. “And I know exactly where it’s going to go.”

“Here, let me help!”

“Oh, it’s fine - the bedroom’s a mess -”

“Nonsense.”

The truth was that the bedroom was fine, but Penelope wasn’t sure she wanted Leah to know that that’s where she wanted the statue to go - right where she would always be able to see it when she woke. But in the end Leah didn’t seem to mind the placement at all. She praised Penelope’s choice, her feng shui, the way it went with the deep green wallpaper she’d just ordered from a catalogue.

“I like it,” Leah said just as she was getting ready to leave. “I like how you bring nature inside.”

I like you, Penelope thought, but the words wouldn’t come.

Leah left, and Penelope went back into the bedroom and stood looking at the statue - its curving, arching arms, its strength, its flexibility. How I feel about Penelope.

She went back out on the porch and closed the laptop, pushing the spreadsheet from her mind. She would be flexible. She would walk the farm and smell the soil and not stress over every cent. She would just be. Like Leah and her sculpture.

It wasn’t the last sculpture Leah would show her. Not by a long shot. They spent the rest of that fall and then a good part of the winter that followed working on sculptures for her art show, which Penelope had finally persuaded her to move forward with. It was a good distraction from the nagging feeling in the back of Penelope’s mind - that no matter how hard she worked, how many times she counted up how much food she had saved up for her livestock and frozen in the fridge for herself, she wasn’t doing enough.

“Winter is when all of nature rests and resets,” Leah told her. “You should rest and reset, too.”

But sitting around her own farmhouse only led to fidgeting and spreadsheets (what was wrong with her) and watching too many cooking shows on her TV, or taking too many pictures of Jin lolling about cutely on the floor while secretly counting and recounting how much more lumber she needed to have Robin build another barn and how quickly she could reasonably afford it because if she had another barn she could get more goats and then -

So resting and resetting became going to Leah’s house with some freshly gathered hazelnuts to roast over her fireplace, or maybe some poppyseed muffins - and then, finally, her very first batch of homemade raspberry wine. And then they’d sit there by the fire and Leah would wax poetic about the sculptures she was considering for the show, how they challenged personhood and celebrated her favorite mediums and how she left things intentionally unclear for the viewer to provoke thought. It was exactly the sort of thing Penelope used to overhear in the quad in her college days, and scoff at. How could people spend their whole lives overthinking about art to that degree?

But now she was starting to get it. Leah shaved away seemingly random scraps of wood from a large block and beauty and meaning emerged. And Penelope forgot about the exact alkalinity of her soil and whether she should plant three fields of cauliflower next season or do kale instead and get more harvests out of it or if that would deplete the nutrients -

Okay, so it didn’t make her forget completely. But Leah’s little cabin was still an oasis, and Leah was still so beautiful and smart and kind, and Penelope was hopelessly in love.

It was the kind of realization that dawned slowly over the course of their daily conversations, not something that hit her like a thunderclap. When Penelope thought back over it later, she thought the exact moment might have been when she came out of the bathroom and saw Leah looking at the window at the drifting snow, a content smile on her face. She loved Leah. She hadn’t even held her hand, and she loved her. She felt safe with her. She understood more of the world through her eyes. She loved her.

So she went to Pierre’s store and bought a bouquet of flowers - the biggest and most beautiful he had in the dead of winter - and she carried them over to Leah’s house. And she stood there on the step, holding them with trembling hands, because nothing had ever been as scary as this. Not coming out to her parents. Not sitting alone in that empty apartment after Marie left. Not quitting Joja and getting on the bus to Pelican Town. Nothing scared her as much as the idea that she, with all her facts and figures and anxieties, wouldn’t be good enough for the woman she loved.

Leah’s eyes lit up like the lights in the town square when she saw Penelope standing there.

“Are these - are these what I think they are?” she asked.

“Well - if you think they’re special flowers that are saying I want you to be my girlfriend then - yes?”

Leah laughed and laughed, and then she kissed her, and it was suddenly the warmest winter Penelope had ever known.

Penelope hadn’t doubted she was gay since the sixth grade and her first crush ever (Mimi Marquez from Rent). But damn, did Leah manage to remind her every day.

Leah would be covered in sweat from working hard on a large sculpture and Penelope would look at her and think damn, I’m gay.

Leah would show up with ingredients to make dinner one evening, knowing Penelope would be exhausted from working in the mine, and she would hear her gentle laughter in the kitchen while she iced her back in the other room and think damn, I’m gay.

Leah would kiss her hard and fast, pressed up against the kitchen counter, and then Penelope would hardly be able to think at all, but if she was, the only real thought that would come would be I am so, so, so gay.

And also that she was so, so in love.

Leah wanted to take things slow after everything that happened with Kel, which suited Penelope fine. There were plenty of long make-out sessions on one of their couches, and many long walks in the snow, hand in hand. And then there was one night, towards the end of winter, when a late snowstorm kicked up and make it hard to see even a foot past the windows of the farmhouse.

“You know, I try not to make a habit of quoting carols - but it really is cold outside. You could stay,” Penelope offered, tentatively.

Leah beamed with quiet warmth, her nose scrunching, as she hid her face behind her mug of hot chocolate.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

When they got to the bedroom, Leah undressed before Penelope could offer to give her some privacy. She got to watch the arch of her back as she pulled the sweater over her head, see the gentle pudge of her stomach sticking out over the band of her cotton underwear, the freckles on her legs and the red hair that covered them, fuck -

“Ooh, this looks cozy. Can I borrow it?” Leah held up a big, ratty pink sweater.

“Uh huh.” Penelope hoped she didn’t look as dazed as she sounded. Leah pulled on the sweater. It brushed the tops of her thighs and swayed against her butt as she walked over to the bathroom, and Penelope felt delicious, wet heat sinking into the space between her legs. She knew what she was thinking about the next time she pulled her beloved vibrator out of the bedside table and teased herself all over before sliding it home so it pulsed against her G-spot and buzzed against her clit at the same time - those legs.

Maybe she’d think about those legs brushing against her face as she licked her -

“Hey, honey - do you mind if I use the last of this lotion you’ve got here? It smells amazing.”

“Go ahead,” Penelope said after she cleared her throat. “I, uh, made it myself. With those crocuses I gathered the other day.”

“Mm. Nice.”

She wasn’t staring.

She was not staring at Leah as she spread the lotion between her hands, propped a leg up on the bed, and began smoothing it over her freckled skin. She was definitely not staring at the way the sweater rode up and gave her a view of that white cotton underwear -

“Uh, I should get ready for bed too I guess,” she said at last.

“Yeah,” Leah laughed, scooping up more lotion. “I’m definitely not sleeping next to you in your dirty mining clothes.”

Oh god, she probably smelled like goat and cow and chicken and sheep and clay and granite dust from the quarry. She hadn’t thought of that.

“Shit, sorry. I should probably shower.”

“I didn’t say that,” Leah said. Her smile as she capped the lotion was more sultry. “I happen to like the way you smell, you know.”

She was staring again.

At the pink bow ofLeah’s lips, at the end of her braid where it swung over her shoulder.

She was aching between her legs at the thought of running her fingers through that hair. Of sliding her fingers in somewhere else.

“Penelope?”

Leah looked both confused and amused. She’d been staring again.

“Shit, fuck, sorry, I - I’m just, like, really, really turned on right now.”

The only way to describe the smile that Leah gave her then was catlike. It was sly and full of promise and doing absolutely nothing to make Penelope less turned on.

“Oh good. I was wondering about that. Because I’m pretty turned on right now, too.”

Yes.

Leah was as slow and gentle as Penelope had imagined. Her kisses were long and sweet. Her skin was soft and warm. She liked it when Penelope sucked her nipples into hard points and when she bit down on the side of her neck - and she liked it best of all when Penelope pulled down her underwear and ran her fingers along her wet, swollen cunt.

“Yes, I want you just like that,” she murmured. No shyness here, not naked and spread out on the quilt under the winter starlight.

“Just like this?” Penelope asked, her voice barely a whisper. This all felt like a mirage that could slip away at any moment. No matter how real and slick and perfect the flesh under her fingers was.

“Yeah - now kiss me -”

No one had to tell her twice to kiss Leah.

She kissed her as she slid one finger and then another inside her. She kissed her as she rubbed the pad of her thumb in a slow, wide circle around her clit. She stopped kissing her only to make sure that that was good. (“Yeah, slow like that, slow like that is good.”) She kissed her again until the sweet pressure of Leah’s thigh between her legs was becoming too much, when she had to rock against it over and over and over because it just felt so good on her own clit. She kissed her until Leah kept saying more, more, more and all her focus had to be on fucking her with her fingers and thumbing her clit now and then, until a beautiful pink flush spread all over Leah’s skin and her eyes screwed shut with ecstasy and she came, cunt squeezing tight around Penelope’s fingers, and the sight was so beautiful that it had Penelope rubbing frantically against Leah’s thigh - and then Leah recovered enough to slide her own fingers in-between them, and it was just enough pressure, just enough friction, and Penelope felt her own clit swell and twitch and then throb with pleasure as she came, too.

Then there was time to kiss again.

Time to lick the taste of Leah from her fingers.

“You’re kind of perfect, you know,” Leah said, lying there warm and pink and satisfied beneath her. Penelope felt herself glow from the inside out. She was perfect to the woman she loved - anxieties, insecurities, spreadsheets and all

***

The day they got married was kind of perfect, too. It was nearly a year to the day since they first met in the Stardrop Saloon - a late spring day filled with drifting blossoms and the smell of fresh earth. The Community Center wasn’t rebuilt, not completely, and the cherry saplings weren’t coming in as fast as Penelope would have liked, and yields on the kale had been low so far, and one of the goats might be sick and she was behind on collecting lumber for the new coop -

But it was perfect.

It was perfect because Leah was her wife.

Because after the heartache of Marie and the soul-sucking boredom of Joja and the terrifying risk of coming to Stardew Valley - it was all worth it.

Waking the morning after to their little farmhouse and Jin meowing for more food and Leah already in the kitchen, making coffee, humming a song - it was all worth it. The kind of thing you couldn’t plan for in a spreadsheet. The kind of thing she hadn’t dared to hope for in a long time.

Penelope rose, ready to tackle the day.

#beach writes #stardew valley #leah from stardew valley #female player x leah #idk what the fandom tags are #whoops #not da

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robininthelabyrinth · 7 years

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A prompt: a fic where Mick Rory ends up running a proper medieval kitchen, preparing a proper medieval feast

Fic: The Chef’s Tale (Ao3 link)Fandom: DC’s Legends of TomorrowPairing: N/A - genA/N: Set in Season 2, episode 1

Summary: Facing torture after their capture in their attempt to rescue Jax and Stein from where they’d been lost in time, the Waverider crew has to devise a cunning escape plan.

Instead, Mick saves everyone by pretending to be a world-famous medieval chef.

—————————————————————

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, we’re all gonna die –”

“Shut up, Jax,” Mick grunts. He likes the kid, but honestly, sometimes he can be a little…oh, wait, no, Ray’s doing it too.

Fucking hell, people!

“They’ve taken all our weapons,” Ray whispers urgently, his eyes wide. “Sara is in chains, like, literal ball and chains. Stein’s up in the infirmary instead of down here, so we don’t have Firestorm. Nate’s – basically useless, sorry Nate –”

“It’s cool.”

“– and we don’t even have Rip. We have no way of getting back to the Waverider, and we’re about to be interrogated! With torture!”

“It was traditional, back then,” Nate offers. “Torture was considered to be –”

“Not helping.”

“Sorry. I just get really excited when I see authentic medieval dungeons. Like Medieval Times, but, y'know, real.”

Mick really wants to punch someone.

Sadly, punching his crew will not help anybody.

He goes over and rattles the door. “Hey, you!” he bellows. “Let us out!”

A well-dressed looking man who had been descending the stairs rather pompously, ends up blinking and rocking back on his heels. “Sier,” he says, scowling. “I do think you’ve rather mistaken the situation.”

“I’ve mistaken the situation?!” Mick roars. “You’ve mistaken the situation. I demand you let me and my crew go at once.”

“Who are you to demand such a thing?!” the man shoots back, puffing himself up.

Mick crosses his arm, thinks of heists long past, and says, “I don’t suppose such an insignificant piece of crap such as yourself ever heard of the name of Guillaume Tirel?”

The man’s eyes go wide. “Taillevent,” he whispers. “Can it be?”

Mick glowers at him. “If you think I’m going to put up with this treatment a second longer –” he says threateningly.

“No, no, m’sier!” the man says hastily, throwing his hands up.

“Who’s Taillevent?” Ray mutters to Nate.

“I…have no idea,” Nate replies. “I didn’t spend that much time on French medieval studies, to be honest; I was pretty focused on the British side of the Hundred Years War. And, um, honestly, if he wasn’t one of the royals, important cardinals, or generals…”

“How does Mick know who he is?”

It’s because Len thought breaking into the Vatican on Christmas Eve sounded like it would be funny, that’s why, and while he’d been perusing the treasures, Mick’d ended up reading through one of the world’s only copies of Le Viander. Only four left in the world, and Mick Rory got to curl up with it and a cup of hot chocolate because ridiculously over-equipped does not even begin to describe Leonard Snart’s heist-planning strategy.

Also, fuck you, Sara. Mick knows plenty of things.

How to get out of prison – any prison – is one of them.

He’d seen the carts outside, loaded high with hunting meat and produce, wheeling in towards the kitchens. He’d seen the crowd of people awkwardly dressed in dusty livery, which looks like it hasn’t been used in a year: new servants for the crowd filling the castle. He’d seen the bustling way that the castle was filled up to the brim.

The guy in front of him is holding a feast in the next day or two.

And, as far as he’s concerned, he just arrested the most famous chef in medieval France.

“I was sent,” Mick says, jabbing a finger at the man’s chest through the bars, “to see,” another jab, “if my services”, another, “would be of interest. When I explain what happened instead, well…”

The guy in front of him is very near full-on panic.

It’s kinda fun, actually. Mick sees why Len likes to fuck with people so much.

There’s some blubbering involved, some very prettily worded apologies, and Mick and the rest of the Legends end up deposited in the kitchens with a pretty please and a by-your-leave.

“What just happened?” Sara asks, frowning at where the chains seem to have magically disappeared off her hands. Mick explained – quite haughtily – that she was an emissary from captured Jerusalem, and that she alone held the secrets to certain spices from that region, her husband having died on the terrifying escape back.

Totally used the plot of Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves in describing said escape, but hey, the man bought it.

And now, well –

Unfortunately, everyone’s weapons are locked up somewhere on sight, and noble-guy might be an idiot but he’s not so much of an idiot that he doesn’t know well enough to keep them locked up until after the feast.

So it looks like they’ll have to stay long enough to get through the feast.

Mick surveys the kitchen, including the vaguely awed-looking chefs that’ll be working under him. He’s got a lot of work to do.

He stretches his arms – the other chefs are nearly as bulky as he is, because medieval cookery was a goddamn strength game half the time, which really helped sell his story – and looks at the whole lot of them.

“Right,” he grunts. “Tell me you’ve got saffron.”

Lots of relieved nods from the chefs, lots of blank stares from his Waverider counterparts.

About what he expected, but it’s fine. He can work with this.

Looks like those years of working the kitchens at the local Renfaire while laying low after a heist are about to come in real handy.

——————————————————————————–

“I thought you said you were good at fiddly bits,” Mick snaps at Ray.

“Mechanical engineering!” Ray yelps. “Not turning a live swan into a boat!”

“Well, get better at it. We need it for the lord’s centerpiece.” Mick orders, before sweeping off to check on the frumentries.

“I think the power is going to his head,” he hears Ray complain.

“Actually, medieval chefs often served as squires to their royal or noble masters; later on, many of them were often given lands or titles in their own right -”

“I don’t care, Nate.”

“Sorry. Um. Is this pie supposed to do that?”

Mick snarls and turns on his heel to go examine the pies.

“Yes, you idiot,” he snaps. “Herring pie is supposed to do that. It’s a savory pie.”

That done, he samples the first frumentry. “Acceptable,” he told the chef - Bertrandt - who nods seriously. “Add some more flour when you add the dried berries.”

“Sier,” the man says, nodding.

That’s when Estienne runs over, babbling about the venison.

Mick sighs, and heads over. The roasting station was going to work, or by God he was going to have some heads. Jax was nominally supervising, but he looked just as lost as Estienne, whose job this supposedly was.

In the meantime -

“Sara!” he yells. “How are the cheeses?”

“Freaking gigantic!” she shouts back, then pins her the two squires he assigned her with a look of death. “I don’t see the goat cheese,” she says ominously, fingering her white headscarf in a way that managed to convey threats of death. “I asked for it ten minutes ago - we need it for the pottage - I don’t care if you have to bring me the goats -”

Mick deeply appreciates Sara. You wouldn’t know that less than three hours ago, she’d never even heard of pottage, much less an esoteric variety that requires goat cheese and cream that they were planning on serving to supplement the traditional variety.

He kind of wishes he had Kendra. She might’ve had one of those dreadfully convenient flashes of memory, come up with a nice recipe.

Right now, Mick’s attention needed to be focused on making the stuffing for the goddamn piglets, and that’s before he can turn to the stews, the venison, and the giant wild boar they were going to be using as the pièce de résistance.

Oh, what he wouldn’t do for some competent help…

———————————————————————

“Four and twenty blackbirds, baked into a pie,” Jax recites. He looks vaguely horrified. “I thought that was, you know, metaphorical.”

“Tallivent has managed to fit twenty four into a single pie?” Jehan asks, looking impressed. “That must have been a mighty feat indeed! Fit for royalty!”

“Oh, yeah,” Jax says weakly, watching the live sparrows being introduced into the baked crust. “When the pie was opened/the birds began to sing/wasn’t that a dainty dish to set before the king.”

“Is the Duke of Burgundy aiming for the crown, then?” Guiscard asks, not looking away from his delicate task.

“Um,” Jax says.

“I’ve heard as much,” Piers puts in. “He has a good chance, too.”

“It won’t be as easy as all that,” Jehan objects. “M'sier Jax, what are your views? The Duke of Burgundy is your sire’s liege, is he not?”

“No comment,” Jax says. “I’m gonna just - go back to my pie now.”

“What are you doing with that one?” Pierre asks, fascinated. “The top is - gorgeous.”

“All butter crust,” Jax says proudly. Only one dessert his mama taught him stuck, but he knows that one by heart. “Caramelize the apples lightly in honey, slice ‘em thin and put them in a circle, then layer the top in crust, then drizzle that with a honey glaze. Best apple pie in the world.”

“And you’ve shaped the crust like laurel leaves, how delightful!”

“Yeah, cute trick, isn’t it?”

“Delightful!”

——————————————————————————–

“What’s in these pies again?” Ray asks, gawking.

“A whole roe-deer, a gosling, three capons, six chickens, ten pigeons, one young rabbit, a minced loin of veal, two pounds of fat, and twenty-six hard-boiled eggs, covered with saffron and flavored with cloves,” Mick recites.

“In each one?”

“In each one.”

“And that’s in addition to the herring pies Nate was watching earlier?”

“Yep.”

“Holy crap. That’s…a lot of food.”

“Yep.”

“And…what is this I’m making?”

“Stewed plums in rosewater.”

Ray stares down at the gigantic vat. “Um,” he says. “Okay. You could play bobbing for apples in this thing.”

“I wouldn’t,” Mick advises. “It’s boiling hot.”

“…right. What do I do?”

Mick hands him a giant ladle. “Stir once in a while.”

“…okay. Then what?”

“Just stir. When it’s done, I’ll come take it off, and you can scoop out all the plums and put them on the platter. We’re going to serve them with a scoop of whipped cream and a drizzle of honey.”

Ray nods. “I can do this,” he says proudly.

“Good,” Mick says, then goes away.

Bertrandt is looking at him sympathetically. “Let me guess,” he says knowingly as his companion chef, Piers, smiles and nods. “He’s someone’s bastard son, isn’t he? Have to have him in your kitchen or else someone gets annoyed?”

“Someone promised that I’d make a fine chef out of him,” Mick lies, going with it. “Sure as hell wasn’t me making the promise, lemme tell you that. I keep telling ‘em – it don’t matter how good I am if the quality of the ingredients…well…”

Bertrandt laughs.

———————————————————————–

“I don’t think I’m qualified for this,” Stein says weakly.

“It’s just fish,” Sara says briskly. “C’mon, you really don’t want Mick coming in and seeing that we’re not on schedule; he’ll just get angry.”

“Mr. Rory? I don’t…”

“He’s the head of the kitchen. Don’t think about it too hard, I have no idea where he picked up half this stuff. He’s at the exotic seafood station right now, something about porpoises. I decided to come help you with the fish instead.”

“I cannot possibly gut that gigantic fish.”

“I’ll gut it. I just need you to help me season it. Mick says mustard is good.” She pauses.

“What?” Stein asks.

“Technically,” she confesses, “he says that we should use hot and dry spices on the fish because fish are naturally overloaded in one of the four humors, and therefore they have to be balanced out before they’re eaten.”

“…the four humors.”

“Melancholy, choler, phlegm and blood, apparently. All the chefs totally knew what he was talking about. They think he’s a genius.”

“Ah,” Stein says faintly.

“He’s apparently mixing in some modern day recipes and blowing their little minds,” Sara says. “But what they’re really impressed by is his nuanced understanding of traditional cuisine.”

“Mr. Rory?”

“He apparently worked in a Renfaire for a bunch of years.”

“My word. I would never have expected it from him.”

“I know, me either, right?” Sara says, grinning. “Hidden depths. Now c’mon,” she pulls out a short knife. “Let’s get the fishy.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Stein says. “Do you think I could go back to the infirmary and say I think I really have a concussion after all? The worst they threatened me there was with leeches.”

“After all the effort we put into getting you back down here? No way.”

“Damn.”

————————————————————————————————-

“I’m actually really impressed by the breadth of your knowledge base here,” Nate says earnestly.

“You’re still on soup duty,” Mick says.

“But you’re roasting deer! That is so cool!”

“Soup duty.”

“But…”

“Soup is a necessary part of the dinner,” Mick says. “Listen, I need to go check on the eels. You stay here.”

“There are eels?”

“Of course there are eels,” Mick says impatiently. “Why wouldn’t there be eels?”

“…right.”

————————————————————————————-

“The jellies are done, the blanc mange is good, the birds are in the wine, and the breads are being kept in the ovens so they’ll still be warm to serve,” Bertrandt reports.

“Good,” Mick says, nodding.

“Dessert pies are done,” Jax offers. “Almond cakes are a go, the stewed plums are all plated, and the figgy bread pudding is, let me just say, a work of freaking art.”

He high-fives Jehan, to whom he had taught the gesture.

“The roasts are off the fire and the cuts have been made,” Estienne reports. “The trenchers are ready to go. The boar in particular looks splendid.”

“The, ah, fish are all prepared,” Stein puts in. “Four different preparation styles, plus Nate’s herring pies.”

“The soups, stews and hashes are ready to be served,” Nate adds. “Ray helped!”

Mick glances at Piers, who had been put on Ray duty. Piers winks.

Ray had had no real involvement in the soups whatsoever, excellent.

“The frumpteries, the pottages, and the other early courses are all ready,” Guiscard says. “And the bird-tart is ready for presentation. The centerpiece is quite beautiful, and the swans and geese have all been rescued –” From Ray. “- and stuffed.”

“Piglets?” Mick asks.

“All done,” Jehan says. “They’re shining with grease, just like you instructed. They smell…” He lets his eyes drift partially shut in an expression of ecstasy. “A vison from heaven, m’sier.”

“Good,” Mick says. “Have the servers been arranged into teams?”

“Yes, m’sieur.”

“Then let’s begin.”

—————————————————————————

“Best mission ever,” Jax says, “or best mission ever? I don’t even care about being stranded in the past anymore. I don’t, I really don’t.”

“Please, Jefferson,” Stein groans. “Don’t talk. I’m too full.”

“Seconded,” Sara whimpers. “I really shouldn’t have had those candied dates at the end, but they looked so good…”

“That was amazing,” Nate says, slumping into a seat on the Waverider. “Time travel is amazing. You’re all amazing. I love you all. So amazing.”

“You know,” Ray says to Mick. “Anna always told me I couldn’t cook worth a damn. And look at me now!”

“Yeah, Haircut,” Mick says fondly, shaking his head in mild amusement. “Look at you now.”

#my fic #mick rory #sara lance #jefferson jax jackson #nate heywood #ray palmer #martin stein

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