Armande's mouth had quirked in amusement at Valeriya's actions. The patrons at the table they had passed had looked at her in surprise as she breached the invisible walls etiquette erected around their table, peering down at the food hungrily, studying at each morsel.
He wouldn't be surprised to see her reach out for one. In their explorations of the city, they had mainly eaten food purchased from vendors at stands and trucks. A restaurant was an entirely new experience.
Before she called down too much attention on them, he gently steered her away, though she still insisted on choosing where they sat. He'd nodded to the hostess with a friendly smile.
He smiled at her exuberant answer to his question, emerald eyes dancing above a beautiful wide smile, warm joy spreading out from his middle. It had been a long time since he'd felt this way. So very long. And strangely, a sense of....appreciation formed inside him. To the universe or to fate or whatever it was. He had been given a companion in his work, a partner in his great mission. This was not simply two people who found each other pleasant company or attractive. In his youth that been enough. Grigorio. Jova. Nor was it simply familial affection, as it was with Lissandra.
No. They were instruments in a war, brought together to save the world. Two forged in very different crucibles, now bonded together as weapons. The fact that he genuinely liked her, felt great affection- and attraction- for her almost seemed an added bonus. And oddly, it felt as if the years had fallen off him, a cloak he had worn for so long dropping to the ground. He felt young and vital, virile and potent with her. And so he took great joy in showing her the world, letting her see what they were fighting for.
And Valeriya, for her part, relished the experience. Her drink was potent and probably was far better tasting than the intoxicants the Khlysty had used in the radyeni. That had been for effect only, the sacred orgy. This was meant to be savored and enjoyed.
"I am glad." He sat back, sweeping his eyes across the room. "This is what we fight for. For our right to live and to be free. To enjoy this world as slaves of no one." He knew she knew, had made the connection. But it felt right to point it out. "The power of the gods is corrupting. No one is immune. Not one." A wistful memory. He pushed down the twinge. It had been too late for her. The hardest thing he had ever had to do. It had been for only a short while that he had known his daughter. Even so, he cherished the memory of her, of what she had been. Before the twisting. No one was immune. No one.
He let the music wash over him. Loud and bombastic, rolling frenetically, trumpets and trombones, casting out energy and freedom. While not what he preferred, he appreciated it for what it meant, what this place meant. In hindsight, this was exactly where they needed to be. This was a free humanity.
Valeriya reveled in the music., letting it into her until she rose and started to dance. He shouldn't have felt surprise. Armande laughed as her arms swayed and undulated, her body writhing to the beat. The musicians seemed to take her as encouragement and the tempo picked up, as if to goad her on. Armande stared at her, watching. He should get up and stop her. Others were looking now, smiling or clapping. She didn't stumble about as if drunk- which probably happened here quite a bit. The staff didn't seem inclined to interfere.
Their waiter stopped at his table and he ordered samples of various dishes for them to enjoy.
Looking back to her, he paused. Yes, he should stop her....but, instead he watched. Just....watched, hypnotized at the way her hair flipped around, the curve of her as she sinuously moved to the rhythm, the ecstasy on her face. After a while, the music itself seemed to fade away, only the distant insistent beat still audible to him. And he just stared at her.
The bubble popped, the music coming loud again, and he looked around. Others were looking too and he sighed. He was being a fool. Even though he was wearing the anti-surveillance clothing- anti-flash thermal defeating fabrics- and carrying the scrambler Theiss had provided, you never be too careful. He stood and went to her, gently taking her hand. "Come Valeriya. Our food is almost here."
He wouldn't be surprised to see her reach out for one. In their explorations of the city, they had mainly eaten food purchased from vendors at stands and trucks. A restaurant was an entirely new experience.
Before she called down too much attention on them, he gently steered her away, though she still insisted on choosing where they sat. He'd nodded to the hostess with a friendly smile.
He smiled at her exuberant answer to his question, emerald eyes dancing above a beautiful wide smile, warm joy spreading out from his middle. It had been a long time since he'd felt this way. So very long. And strangely, a sense of....appreciation formed inside him. To the universe or to fate or whatever it was. He had been given a companion in his work, a partner in his great mission. This was not simply two people who found each other pleasant company or attractive. In his youth that been enough. Grigorio. Jova. Nor was it simply familial affection, as it was with Lissandra.
No. They were instruments in a war, brought together to save the world. Two forged in very different crucibles, now bonded together as weapons. The fact that he genuinely liked her, felt great affection- and attraction- for her almost seemed an added bonus. And oddly, it felt as if the years had fallen off him, a cloak he had worn for so long dropping to the ground. He felt young and vital, virile and potent with her. And so he took great joy in showing her the world, letting her see what they were fighting for.
And Valeriya, for her part, relished the experience. Her drink was potent and probably was far better tasting than the intoxicants the Khlysty had used in the radyeni. That had been for effect only, the sacred orgy. This was meant to be savored and enjoyed.
"I am glad." He sat back, sweeping his eyes across the room. "This is what we fight for. For our right to live and to be free. To enjoy this world as slaves of no one." He knew she knew, had made the connection. But it felt right to point it out. "The power of the gods is corrupting. No one is immune. Not one." A wistful memory. He pushed down the twinge. It had been too late for her. The hardest thing he had ever had to do. It had been for only a short while that he had known his daughter. Even so, he cherished the memory of her, of what she had been. Before the twisting. No one was immune. No one.
He let the music wash over him. Loud and bombastic, rolling frenetically, trumpets and trombones, casting out energy and freedom. While not what he preferred, he appreciated it for what it meant, what this place meant. In hindsight, this was exactly where they needed to be. This was a free humanity.
Valeriya reveled in the music., letting it into her until she rose and started to dance. He shouldn't have felt surprise. Armande laughed as her arms swayed and undulated, her body writhing to the beat. The musicians seemed to take her as encouragement and the tempo picked up, as if to goad her on. Armande stared at her, watching. He should get up and stop her. Others were looking now, smiling or clapping. She didn't stumble about as if drunk- which probably happened here quite a bit. The staff didn't seem inclined to interfere.
Their waiter stopped at his table and he ordered samples of various dishes for them to enjoy.
Looking back to her, he paused. Yes, he should stop her....but, instead he watched. Just....watched, hypnotized at the way her hair flipped around, the curve of her as she sinuously moved to the rhythm, the ecstasy on her face. After a while, the music itself seemed to fade away, only the distant insistent beat still audible to him. And he just stared at her.
The bubble popped, the music coming loud again, and he looked around. Others were looking too and he sighed. He was being a fool. Even though he was wearing the anti-surveillance clothing- anti-flash thermal defeating fabrics- and carrying the scrambler Theiss had provided, you never be too careful. He stood and went to her, gently taking her hand. "Come Valeriya. Our food is almost here."