milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Bianca is curled up in a booth, her now-dark hair curling around her shoulders.

It'll grow back by tomorrow.

For the moment, however, she's reading Dante's Divine Comedy. In Florentine Italian, naturally.

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"Chiavalden."

He breathes the word and settles down next to her, an arm around her waist and his nose buried in that dark hair of hers.

"You can still speak. Clearly, I am doing something wrong," Bianca says with a teasing smile.

"Mmmm."

He informs her, contently.

She laughs at that, and shifts so they are more comfortable.

"How are you, pilgrim mine?"

He smiles at her,

"Content, Ria'athan Chiavalden."

Is the answer, as content in tone as in words.

"Ria'athan?" Asks the sometime-scholar.

"One who touches the divine."

Answers the rather distracted usually-scholarly bard.

"Ah..." Bianca smiles at him, slow and sweet.

"As Riathan, one word,"

He flicks his fingers, and unicorns dance on the table. The words don't exist to say how beautiful even the illusion of the ghost of a dancing unicorn is,

"That is what they are. Like angels, but of Athera."

She puts the book on the table, leaning forward to gaze at them.

Softly, "Santa Maria..." A whispered prayer. "They are so beautiful..."

"This,"

He says quietly, sliding his arm behind her back,

"is why I will not simply stay here until I die. My life may be what it takes to bring them back. Not my death, my life."

A little shiver, and she rests her head on his shoulder, still watching the unicorns.

"I am glad."

He whispers in return as the illusion reaches the end of what he watched and fades away,

The little vampire nods.

"I can...understand it more, now. When...when will you next go?"

"Before we wed."

He says after a moment.

"There is something that I must get."

She raises an eyebrow, curious.

"Oh? I can I ask what?"

"Dirt."

He grins at her, one of those utterly carefree and laughing ones.

"...what?"

But, she's laughing.

He continues to grin at her,

"I need to get dirt."

And he pulls her close so that he can, once again, bury his face in her hair.

"For the wedding."

"I...won't ask." She gives up.

He just grins at her.

A lot.

"...should I be worried?"

"Not this time."

He informs her soberly.

"...dirt." She sounds almost resigned.

He carefully avoids thinking about the fact that, quite specifically, he needs dirt from a certain gate in Etarra. It would just worry her.

"Mmmhmmm."

Yes, it would.

"...it's not going to get my dress dirty, is it?"

"Not so much as a speck will touch your dress."

He promises, confidently because her hair will catch the few bits that don't turn into crown.

[ooc: oh, look - babysitting has 'net. If you are still here]

Bianca is eyeing him - he seems far, far too amused.

He grins at her again, and offers,

"I promise."

[ooc: fair enough]

"I shall hold you to that," she murmurs.

"My love, you may hold me to anything you wish."

He informs her brightly.

Binaca does not snigger, but she comes fairly close.

That was the point, yes. He makes another of those content noises and pulls her a bit closer.

[ooc: and fade there, you think?]

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