(121-05-13) Date Night
Date Night
Summary: Samael and Malena try to have a nice night out. It, um… yeah.
Date: May 13, 2014
Related: Hideaway

Golden Maiden Eatery — Lower Hightower Street

Warm oakwood walls contain this small eatery. Large candelabras have been hoisted up on chains to hang up near the ceiling, lending a warm light to the room and playing up the golden colour of the wood. A large counter, again of golden oak, stands near the entrance. It is there that drinks are poured, and food brought out from the kitchens behind.

The place houses at most twenty people at its round wooden tables. The chairs are cushioned in the same deep merlot coloured fabric as the table-clothes. In the center of each table is a thick white candle on an oaken pillar-stand.

The scent of warm breads and cheese permeate the room, as does that of choice cuts of meats. Everything is crafted to pair well with wines that are the House's speciality.

Female and male servers tend to people and their culinary whims, spreading the word of the meals of the day and the pairings to go with them.

It's been a stressful return home, not that the trip away from home was any less stressful, but that was then, and this is now. As such, Malena requested some time alone with Samael, time away from his books and research, away from the tower and the kids, and it's the Golden Maiden that they settled on, because why not. Malena is seated at the table with a glass of wine in front of her, which she sips on every so often, gaze aimed off on a distant window. This seems like a promising start to date night.

Samael has kept to his word and put his studies away, albeit, somewhat woefully. But now the children are being seen to by one of the nursemaids, he has no work excuses and so out to dinner he goes. He sits across from his wife, taking small, thoughtful sips of the wine. Probably because he's trying to identify the grapes used to make it, rather than because he's especially keen on the taste.

This is one of those things that happens every few months or so, dinner out, time alone together, and somehow it never gets any easier. Not in over seven years. Malena has steadily worked her way through a full glass of wine already, and is halfway through her second. Not because she has any interest in the grapes, but because she has an interest in getting drunk. "Do you plan on us staying here long?" she asks out of the blue, eyes moving from the window and back to her husband, the stranger, across the table.

"Mmm?" Samael asks, blinking over at Malena as if just recalling she is, in fact, present and across the table from him. "In Oldtown? I… well, yes. I suppose so. Until Ormund is recovered, at least. Or if he should not, until he is buried and Gwayne is comfortable in his new role."

"Very well," Malena replies in a vague sort of way, pausing for another swallow of wine. She doesn't seem to have any other questions, or in truth, anything else to say. Not at the moment. So it's back to the wine again, finishing off her second cup in short order, before the food has even arrived.

Samael considers his own goblet, though he doesn't drink anymore of it. Then, he peers over at his wife, brows furrowing. "Had you… hoped to travel again, then?"

"No," replies Malena as she lifts a hand to signal that she'd like more wine. "Not particularly, I was only curious what your plans were. If you'd already decided where you wanted to go next, or if you'd planned on remaining here for a time."

"No, I… no. I should like to return to the east at some point, but I don't feel I can, at present," Samael replies. The next swallow of wine is larger and has nothing to do with grapes.

"Do you intend to bring us all again?" asks Malena, though only after the serving girl arrives to refill her drink. Mm, wine. "Or do you plan to go out on your own this time?" It's almost impossible to tell what it is she wants to happen by the way she asks, and her expression is both carefully impassive, and also getting slightly glazed look from the swift consumption of alcohol on an empty stomach.

Thankfully (perhaps) the meal arrives before Samael gets a chance to answer, and the food is laid out and served onto plates for them before the servers slip away again. "I thought I would leave the choice to you," Samael replies. "Your company would be welcome, if you wished to join me, but I would not insist, if you have had enough of the eastern continent."

This is probably a good thing, and it's for the bread that Malena reaches first, ripping off a piece to stuff in her mouth. This is chewed, and washed down with another swallow of wine. "It depends on how soon you wish to go," she answers finally, gaze coming to rest on him before she goes on. "I'm sure it would be nice to visit what friends we made there," she tells him, those words holding weight, clearly meaning to indicate some specific people, or person.

Samael selects a small meat pastry for his own start, though it pauses halfway between plate and mouth as those words, and their meaning, register. "Ah," he replies softly. "Well, I cannot say when, as it depends on Ormund's health, and it seems that cannot be properly predicted at present. But when I do choose to go, I will be sure to inform you."

It's not that he understands it that makes Malena flush, it's that he does and he doesn't react. Not much. The attempt to provoke a reaction in him fails, and that seems to upset her more than anything. "Do that," she replies, quiet, eyes lowering to the plate to reach for piece of roasted chicken, which she rips into with a vengeance.

Samael nods and takes a small bite of the pastry. The rest he sets aside with diminished appetite as he chews and swallows, taking another gulp of wine. A familiar and awkward quiet settles between the Hightower and his wife.

Malena washes down a bite of chicken with a good quarter of the cup of wine, which is entirely excessive, but it's what one does when one suddenly has the tremendous desire to get incredibly drunk. It is, at least, followed by more chicken, and then a little bit more bread. And then more wine, which she polishes off and sets aside, along with the rest of her food, most of it largely untouched.

So, there it is. A full, fancy meal and neither of the diners in a state of mind that makes them inclined to eat it. Samael looks down at the variety of delicacies and then suggests, "It looks like rain. Perhaps we had best head home before it breaks?"

"It does," agrees Malena without knowing whether or not that is actually true, or simply an excuse to leave quickly, but either way she agrees with it. She pushes back her own chair and gets to her feet at once, only a little bit unsteady. Three cups of wine hardly mane a dent these days. "We wouldn't want to get wet."

"No, not when you are dressed so finely," Samael agrees. He stands as well, a bit more steady as he's had less wine. The cost of the meal will be sent to the Hightower. Or deducted from taxes. Something. He offers Malena his arm before heading for the door.

"Thank you," Malena replies quietly, taking his words as a compliment whether or not it was meant as one. She moves around the table carefully to take the arm that he offers, ready to follow alongside him to the door.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License