| Details for The Language of Like |
| Summary: | Gus and Sioned converse in French, to their mutual delight. Elly runs around after her adorable baby boy. |
| Date: | 1939-06-12 |
| Location: | Leaky Cauldron |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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Sioned slips into the Leaky Cauldron. "'ello Ducky!" Sioned jumps high when the bar matron yells out to her. "Oh my lord, h-hello." Sioned says quietly. She finds a place to sit and gives her order to the waitress that comes up. "Bangers and mash, please with a cider." She gets her order out confidently and gives the woman a smile.
His shop has just closed, and Augustin wanders in. He's wearing mist-grey robes and a black armband on his left arm - a sigh of mourning that's belied by the merry twinkle in his eye. "Hello," he greets one of the waitresses. And then he switches to French. His words are benign - You are looking lovely today. Whatever you're cooking smells delicious. Today was a good day at my store. I think it might rain, tomorrow. But the maid apparently doesn't know French, because she giggles and flaps her apron at him. "Talkin' like that will get you no discounts, young Romeo," she flirts. Augustin sighs, though he's not at all sad. "One had to try," he says in English. "I'll have whatever you've got handy," he orders, and sits down next to Sioned's table.
Sioned perks when she hears the young man speaking French. She gives a small smile and nod. "Bonjour, Comment allez-vous?Comment allez-vous?" (Hello, how are you?)
Gus brightens and turns to the young woman. "Your accent is very good," he compliments her, speaking French as well. His accent is rather flawless, it might be noted. "Hello, miss. My name is Augustin Rousseau." He holds his hand out - not to shake, but so she'll place her hand in his and he can kiss the back, gallantly.
Sioned gives a small laugh and extends her hand. "M-my name Sioned Goshawk." Her cheeks blush slightly and she diverts her gaze. "It is nice to meet someone who will speak in other languages."
Gus bows over her hand and kisses the air above it, so all she'll feel is the warmth of his lips, rather than their caress. "How lovely to meet you, Miss Goshawk," he tells her, continuing to speak in French. "I admit, though I speak French very well, English is my native tongue, and the only other language I know." He releases her hand. "Shall I join you at your table?" he asks. "Or would you like to join me at mine? We can speak in French until we have to go home," he offers with a grin.
Sioned points to the seat in front of her. "Please join me here." She points to the seat across from hers. She switches to French. "French was the first language I learned how to speak, other then English." She gives a small smile. "Are one of your parents French then?"
Augustin moves to the seat across from hers, grinning from ear to ear. "Both of them," he tells her. "I grew up speaking both languages at home, you know." He leans forward and drops his voice. "French is better when one wants to be persuasive, I feel, though English is better for forthright conversation. How do you come to know it? Parents?"
Sioned shakes her head no. "I learned French from books and picking it up in conversation." She blushes a little bit more. "I have a great love of spoken languages. I pick them up easily. I speak 11 different languages." She pauses as a waitress brings her food. Sioned places her silverware just so and arranges how her plate, mug of cider and silverware are all placed in front of her. She places her napkin on her lap and looks back up. "I have a dreadful tendency to stutter when speaking English. Languages were my escape from the stutter."'
"Ah, what an excellent talent to have," Gus says. He's still speaking French to her. He watches with interest while she arranges her place setting just so. "A stutter, really?" Gus asks, his eyebrows raising. "I would never have guessed. Your French, miss, is really exceptionally fluent." He gives her a lazy sort of grin. "While I don't have eleven languages, I fancy myself an amateur artist. And yours is the kind of face that should be captured for the ages." He holds up his hands, making a frame from the L of his thumbs and forefinger. "I could carve a wooden bust, complete with adorable hat," he teases.
Sioned blushes deep red and touches her hat. "Oh my, you do lay it on thick for such a young man." Really he's probably not much younger then Sioned, but she feels older. "Are you even graduated yet? I assume you attend Hogwarts?"
Gus laughs and leans back, giving her more space. "Sorry," he tells her. "But you are pretty. I'm sure you know." He shakes his head, though, and his smile slips a bit. "No, I'm no longer a student." Just then their food arrives - they've both given bangers and mash and cider. "Ooh," he says, eyeing it. "I am hungry."
Elly comes out from around the bar, ducking underneath the lift 'gate'. She is playfully chasing after an infant who is just learning how to walk hurriedly. The little boy is dressed in a little RAF looking outfit and he is giving a little baby squeal as he's trying to get away from his mother. "Gonna get ye Squidge! Gonna get ye!"
Sioned grins as she sees the little boy run in followed by his mother. A small sigh leaves her mouth as she watches them. Not paying attention to her she spills some mash on her. "Oh my goodness! O-oh!" She says this in English and immediately goes to start dabbing the very very small stain on her jacket.
Gus' attention is caught by the baby wobbling around in his adorable outfit. The corners of his lips curl up, a smile of pure wonder. "Look at him go!" he chuckles. "Though… what is…" whatever it is he might have said is cut short by the tiny emergency of Sioned's spill. He immediately passes his napkin over to her as well, and since she switched to English, so does he. "Oh, no worries, Miss Goshawk, that should come right out with the right charm," he tells her consolingly.
Sioned feels her shoulders slump and sighs. "N-no. I-I don't—-" she takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm down. "I-I'm s-sorry." She keeps brushing at the spot, that is now insignificant. "I-I can't s-st-stand being a m-mess!" She takes a few more deep breaths and is mostly calm now. She takes a drink of her cider and takes a few more deep breaths.
"If I may?" Gus asks Sioned politely in French, drawing his wand slowly, and indicating the little spot she keeps dabbing at. He gives her an understanding sort of smile.
Sioned pauses in wiping and nods at the young man. She closes her eyes as if to wait for something to happen.
Gus charms the spill away and calmly puts away his wand. "There," he says. "Nothing to worry about, it's as good as new, Miss Goshawk." He grins at her again. "Picture perfect."
Sioned opens her eyes and looks down. "Th-thank you." She sighs and takes a deep deep breath. "Mess is just not…acceptable." She switches to French. "I like things particular ways. And clean." She takes another bite and then dabs her mouth.
Elly makes a little monster noise as she pounces down on her son to scoop him up and gobble at his belly. There is much giggling and squealing but then he just wraps his little arms around Elly's neck and coo, "Gome mummy Gome!" Elly gives his rosy cheek a big smooch. "I did get ye! Yes!" She then raspberries his cheek and gets another squeal from him before she adjusts him to get into the sling carrier on her chest that's now not a newborn sling but criss-crossed in front of her so the little one can squirm about and watch what his mother's doing as she gets into wench mode.
"I understand," Gus tells Sioned with another little smile. "It's comforting, being in control of your environment, knowing just how everything is all the time." The ruckus with Elly and her baby catches his attention again and he grins. "What an adorable baby," he says heartily. "Someday…" he trails off, though. Then, seeing as how Elly is in wench mode, he raises his hand to get her over to their table.
Sioned has finished most of her meal. "Thank you for this lovely evening and helping me out." She measure out her payment for her meal and leaves a tip too. "I hope to see you again sometime, Gus. It was nice conversation."
"You can always stop by our shop," Gus tells her. "Rousseau Vineyards." He stands when she does, ever the gentleman. "Have a nice evening, Miss Goshawk."