milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Sitting at the bar sipping a coke and wearing a long, loose skirt and a peasant blouse with sandals, with her dark hair done up in Princess Leia cinnamon rolls, is Inari Raith. Open in front of her is a large hardback book about Feng Shui and her eyes flicker as she scans the pages. Every now and then she lifts a hand and turns the page.

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Val would be affronted if he knew why she was laughing. As it is, he thinks it's rather sweet, and bends over her hand, brushing it lightly with his lips.

"Your servant, my lady."

A faint blush spreads over her cheeks and she gently takes her hand back.

"Thank you. It's nice to meet you, Valentine."

"It is entirely mutual," with a smile that is faintly knowing, and mostly genuine.

He sits at a stool, and picks up the knife and fork.

"What brings you to Milliways, my dear?"

"I was kind of hoping that my brother would be here. Doesn't look like it though."

"Then perhaps thou might be content with such meager offering as Milliways may drop in thy lap?" He raises a self-deprecating eyebrow, and eats one of his eggs.

"I guess so," she says with a small grin. "Tommy'll be around soon enough, I guess."

"And in the meantime," with an elaborate bow managed from the top of a barstool - no small feat that "we shall do our very best to entertain thee."

"Oh? and how are you going to entertain me?" she asks, with a curious smile in her face.

Valentine raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of the crisp white wine that had appeared with his meal.

"That depends," he says, "entirely upon thee, my dear. What wouldst care for, in the way of entertainment?"

She considers this, amused.

"Well, you could sing for me."

Valentine tips his head to the side, regarding her for a moment.

"If thou wishest."

He thinks for a moment, then nods to himself, and begins to sing.

"Chi i bei di m'adduce ancora,
I bei di del primo amore?
Chi m'adduce solo un'ora
di quel tempo caro al cor?
Tutta sola piango i miei guai
cerco il ben che più non torna!
Ah, i bei dì chi mi ritorna,
chi quel tempo caro al cor?
Ah! chi ritorna
Ah! quel tempo caro al cor?"

His voice is a pleasing baritone, richly resonant, dark and luscious. Well trained, too, as is obvious by the way he breathes, enunciates, holds his chest and throat. He's a real seventeenth century scholar - all of the arts.

Inari listens to the song appreciatively. He really is very good. When he finishes, she claps enthusiastically.

"Bravo!"

Valentine chuckles, self-consciously.

"It was my wife's favourite song, when we were courting. Sentimental foolish wench."

He looks away.

"You're married?" she asks curiously.

"Widowed," a little shortly. "She died giving my second son life."

He sighs.

"I still miss her, but 'twas a long time past."

"Oh," she says in a small voice. "I'm sorry. That must have been awfull for you."

"It was," he agrees, taking another swallow of his wine, deeper this time.

"But as I said, it was a long time past."

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