RP: Strange Dinnermates

[anon_hestia]

Date: March 19, 2003
Character(s): Hestia Jones and Rabastan Lestrange
Location: Truffles
Status: Semi-Private
Summary: Hestia decides to see what Truffles is like and runs into some unexpected company
Completion: Incomplete

Hestia had to admit, the town was lovely. It had a small town, old-world charm one didn't find much in England anymore, but she had

Comments

[anon_hestia]

He was an interesting study. The nonchalance, the drawling ease only afforded to the high born. Every movement was measured, every sentence thought of in advance. It must have been hard to maintain that. "No time for regrets?" She watched him pause and frowned, wondering if she had offended.

Then he continued, and her eyebrows did raise. She hadn't expected that, "That's generally the problem with those in power, isn't it? They become rather short sighted. I'm sure I would prefer to be the power behind the power. No ridicule, no public image." She shrugged. "All the rewards, and you generally don't lose you senses, yes? I'm sure there's an old Greek tale about it." On second thought, she probably should have expected it. He'd set her up for a reveal. Bastard.

"Do you care, so much? Based on what you said earlier, you think You--Voldemort." She wasn't so brave as to not flinch saying it. "Got what he deserved. And your sister-in-law." She paused. "Well, I can't imagine she was easy to live with, no matter what side you were on." Hestia actually smiled as he spoke. "Perhaps I'll just shut up and let you finish." She looked away a moment, taking a sip of her wine.

Hestia laughed, brushing her hair from her face. "Reconnaissance, as it were. If it's this bad, I'm almost certain that I'll be good enough to get a job, even though I'm a woman." There were few jobs left more gender biased that cooking in a restaurant, and she knew it. This wouldn't be easy. "I spent the last few years in Nice. Not the largest city in France."

"Prague? You have been traveling. Is it nice? I'm more a Western European girl, myself." His chuckle made her flush a little, but she calmed herself.

[anon_rabastan]

Rabastan considered her question for a moment. "Well, I regret getting caught and sent to Azkaban," he said after a moment. "We were careless and made a few mistakes. At least we learned from them. Azkaban is highly unpleasant. The Dementors are bad enough but the food is appalling. Very little is actually given and what is given is often mouldy or stale. One would think a supposedly benevolent Ministry would feed and house its prisoners properly."

Although he was casual about his reference to Azkaban, just the merest thought of that place sent a chill through him. He would do a great deal to avoid ever seeing the inside of that place again. Even if he hadn't been committed to the Death Eater cause, he would have stayed loyal to Voldemort simply because of the fact that the man had freed them when he hadn't really had to.

"It's the principle of the matter," he said with a shrug. "Besides, you didn't know Voldemort at his best. When I first joined he was... charismatic and charming, a powerful and bold personality. A vibrant man with a vision and a plan. My father was one of the first to join with him. I met him any number of times when I was growing up." He took a sip of his wine. "As for Bella, she was... exciting. Vibrant and passionate before Azakaban but something destroyed her sanity in there. She was quite difficult afterwards."

He looked interested at her reply then laughed. "Well, you could hardly be worse given you have a French background." He nodded slightly. "I've passed through Nice but never stopped there. What does it have to recommend it?"

He smiled slightly. "I have. My... business takes me to many places. Prague is pleasant enough but it's a tedious city at times. Admittedly I was hardly inhabiting the best part of it." He sipped at his wine. "I have travelled through both the west and the east. Both have their positives and negatives." He gave her a slightly mischievous smile. "But if I have to choose one place for the food then it would be Italy, Florence in particular or Firenze as it is called in Italian. There is a restaurant just off the Piazza della Repubblica that serves the best bistecca alla fiorentina I've ever tasted in my life."

[anon_hestia]

That he regretted Azkaban was no great surprise. She'd been there once during training, and the thought of it still gave her shudders. Just the cold and lifelessness and the horror that place imbued. It was enough to make anyone sick. And it had, Hestia had vomited all over her shoes that day. Hestia looked at him a long moment as he tried to make light of his stay there, and she didn't press it. Didn't need to.

"So, you regret getting caught, but not that you tortured the Longbottoms to insanity?" That bothered her. People killed, people cast spells in the heat of battle, and there was no time to regret that. She understood that, having killed someone herself once, but the torture of the Longbottoms was another thing entirely. That story had been famous around the auror school, a cautionary tale. She couldn't fathom causing someone that much pain.

"There's a principle? Or is it that you lost?" Part of Hestia had always wanted to ask these questions, to know what made a death eater like Rabastan Lestrange tick. She wasn't sure she would like the answers, in fact, she was sure she wouldn't, but she had to ask. Had to know. "No, admittedly, I didn't know either of them very well. Don't think I would care to, no offense meant."

Hestia grinned before shrugging. "I would hope not. I studied French cooking when I was in France, I'm a classically trained chef, so I hope I would be able to do somewhat better."

He asked about Nice, which surprised her. She'd though he would have traveled everywhere. "Besides the beautiful beaches and the climate?" She looked at him a moment. "There are plenty of sights for tourists, but I love the feel of it. It's not so small that there's nothing to do, but small enough so that you know everyone, and it's safe to walk the streets at night." She leaned back in her chair. "And the restaurants and cafés there were wonderful, but nothing compared to the boulangerie." She smiled before realizing she was turning nostalgic. "Sorry, I only came her a week or two ago, so I still miss it."

Hestia leaned forward, listening to him speak, actually finding herself smiling again, which surprised her. She was sitting, talking pleasantly with a known death eater, and she was smiling. Hell, by her body language, she was even flirting. She moved back slightly, trying to control herself. "I've never been to Florence. Milan and Venice yes, and down past it to Rome, but not Florence."

[anon_rabastan]

Rabastan shrugged and took a sip of his wine. "It was a war and we had information that they knew what had happened to our Lord. They refused to speak, not even to deny that they had such knowledge." He gazed into his wine, remembering that night and how exhilarating it had been. He knew better than to admit that to this woman though. "We were angry. Lord Voldemort had played his cards close to his chest in regards to the Potters and neither my brother nor I believed that Black had been the spy that he'd spoken of within the Order camp. That left us no one on our side to question."

He arched an eyebrow and chuckled. "Of course there's a principle involved. One cannot simply allow a death to go unanswered. Were the Order not doing something similar? Seeking revenge for the deaths of the Potters."

"Indeed?" he said with interest. "Then you should definitely take over the kitchen here. It is obvious they need a decent chef before they poison someone."

He nodded at her description of Nice. "I have rarely had the leisure to spend much time at the beach. I prefer the nightlife of the larger cities. Good for business and good for pleasure."

He didn't detail what form that pleasure took. It always changed depending on his mood; sometimes it was the torture that she probably expected, sometimes it was games of varying types and sometimes he sought sex with men or women, depending on his mood that night. It always varied and he always enjoyed himself.

He couldn't help but notice the way she smiled and even flirted a little with him. That amused him no end and he shifted in his seat slightly, letting his body language indicate his interest. He'd learned to pay attention to that long ago and even better, use it to his advantage.

"You have missed a treat," he said, letting his own love for that ancient city colour his voice. "It is a truly beautiful city, both the magical and Muggle areas. The Ponte Vecchio, the Duomo, The Uffizi gallery, the Medici Chapel. All utterly stunning and the restaurants and cafes have some of the finest of Italian food."

[anon_hestia]

Hestia frowned, her mouth thinning a moment. It disturbed her. How one could sit there, so uncaring of the suffering he'd caused. Alice and Frank Longbottom had suffered a fate worse than death. There was no escape from the prison of their minds. It was a fate that well and truly terrified her, terrified everyone, she imagined, but he didn't care. "I'm afraid I will never understand your reasoning. I don't think there is any justification to make." She looked at him, eyes scrutinizing. "But that hardly matters, you're not justifying yourself." Nor did he have to, not to her. He owed her nothing. That he'd given her that much was more than she'd expected.

"I admit that there is principle, but when it comes to the actions of the of the Order, I wouldn't know. I was only," she paused a second, "eight at the time."

"Yes, indeed." His interest wasn't forced, she didn't think, which was astonishing, but then, with the state of this restaurant, the idea of a chef with skill would bring hope to anyone. She oped anyway. Customers would be nice.

Hestia's eyebrows rose at the mention of nightlife as she wondered what that might entail. Then she took a sip of her wine. "You've been missing out. The beaches are always quite nice. And Nice has a rather nice night life in summer." And it was also well situated for a weekend getaway.

When his body language shifted, it was hard to miss. Hestia had spent four years having flings with various men. She knew when one was interested. She had to be careful, or she had a feeling it would not end all that well for her.

Yet, when passion colored his voice, she forgot all that a moment, laughing softly behind a hand. "You speak of it so fondly, I'm astonished that you would bother to leave it at all. I'm not sure I would leave a place like that. Not without good reason."

[anon_rabastan]

Rabastan smiled a little coldly. He felt no regret for what they'd done; they'd had reason and when the Longbottoms had refused to speak, they'd kept going until the couple were unable to speak.

"I do not expect you to understand," he said coolly. "You were not there and have only heard the secondhand tales of others who were not there."

He subsided into a thoughtful look. "Then perhaps I should pay a visit to Nice. Given I have not been there yet, I am sure to find something of interest."

He chuckled. "I do indeed enjoy the city but I am not the kind of man to stay in one place forever. I would get bored if I did that and I dislike being bored."

The arrival of the waiter with their meals interrupted him and he arched an eyebrow at Hestia after the man had left. "Dare we hope that the food is of better quality than my escargot?" he asked drolly.

[anon_hestia]

His demeanor changed instantly. Gone was the charming man who had been toying with her a moment before. In his place was someone much more dangerous. It was easier to imagine him the deatheater she'd heard about, read about. The cold killer. She fell silent a moment before meeting his eyes. "I did not expect myself to understand. I'm sorry if my inability offends you." Her lips pressed together, hard.

"During summer, it's quite nice. During winter, it's too quiet, even for me." His change in demeanor had set her somewhat on edge, not sure when the next attack would come. She didn't think he would harm her physically, but he certainly would attack her verbally. Her hand trailed down over her right side, reminding herself.

"No, I imagine not." Hestia didn't mind staying in one place, but then she had just packed up her entire life in Nice and moved here, half with the hope of something better, so perhaps, in that, they were not so different. "What brought you back here then? England, if not this spot, then the rest, is still hostile toward you, and from what you've said, this is too small a town for your liking."

When the food arrived, Hestia smiled politely at the waiter and thanked him before turning her attention to the food. She frowned. the presentation was decent at best, but she'd come to expect better from most quality establishments, even in London. She glanced up at him, nervous now. "I'm just hoping that it's good enough to not make me sick." She took up her knife and fork, slicing up a small piece of her chicken before tasting it. She made a face. Edible, but nothing worth writing home about. Well, perhaps edible was a bit strong. The bird had been cooked far too long, it was dry. "How's yours?"

[anon_rabastan]

Rabastan could see that he'd startled and unnerved her with his sudden change of demeanour and he felt quietly pleased at that. He was not a man to be placed neatly in one box and she needed to know that while many of the stories about him were exaggerated, many were not.

He noted the way she ran a hand down her right side and made a mental note of that. He pretended to ignore it for the moment; there was little point unnerving her entirely and he could assuage his curiosity about that at some later point perhaps.

"Then perhaps I shall take a short trip there during the summer," he said, falling back into the indolent attitude he'd been using when she first sat down. "I am always eager to try a new place."

He arched an eyebrow. "I felt a strange call. I had been for a while but I had business so I had been ignoring it." He shrugged and sipped at his wine. "But once my business was over and Prague's entertainments had begun to pall, I decided to investigate this call. It brought me here. This place is still intriguing so until it becomes boring, I shall stay."

He snorted then took a small bite of his duck. He chewed and swallowed then sighed. "I was hoping for better but find I am once again disappointed. It is either an inferior or old bird or they have overcooked it. They have been far too heavy handed with the honey in the sauce and far too light handed with the spices." He paused and tasted one of the green beans then grimaced. "And they have overcooked the beans."

[anon_hestia]

He changed the subject entirely, which suited her just fine. Hestia took a deep sip of wine before setting the glass down and settling in her chair, leaning against the back of it and just watching him.

"You should," she said after a moment. "It's really quite lovely." Part of her couldn't imagine him in the laid back lifestyle of Nice, and noting how pale he was, she couldn't quite see him going to the beach either, which amused her.

"A call?" Being the first live resident of Annwn she's spoken to, Hestia wasn't sure what he was talking about. She'd felt no call, instead, she'd gotten an owl. Her own curiosity got the better of her, and she asked. "What was it like?"

The chicken, supposed to be sweet roasted with rosemary and thyme, was probably the simplest dish on their menu, and therefore the one that mattered most. That the chef had done so badly with this only proved that the chef didn't have the skill to manage that. "Considering what was done with my chicken, I'm going to guess that they over cooked it. And it's in pretty much the same for me. Hard to imagine given that the French aren't known for spicing their food to begin with." She set aside her fork, making a face. "I think I'll be cooking my own meal tonight, or skipping over to London for some decent take out."

Still, she couldn't help but grin. The meal may be bad, but it only filled her with a great deal of hope. "I'll have to come back here this week."

[anon_rabastan]

Rabastan set his fork down. The duck was truly inedible, perhaps not to some of the inhabitants of this town... the fact that this restaurant was open and surviving was proof positive of that... but certainly for him. And apparently for Hestia.

"A pull," he said with a shrug as he finished the last of his wine. "Nothing that could not be ignored or put aside but still it was there. It seemed to me that it was something I could follow or not as the whim took me. And, as I said, I was bored so I followed it here."

He leaned back in his chair and gave Hestia a considering look. "Or you could come with me to Florence. I know a little restaurant there where the owner's mother does all the cooking. Her osso buco is nothing short of miraculous." He arched an eyebrow at her and smirked slightly, knowing what would be running through her mind. "I promise you I shall bring you back here safe and sound, no worse the wear for the trip."

He waited for her response, interested to see how courageous or perhaps how reckless she would be.

[anon_hestia]

When he offered to take her to Florence, she stared at him, surprised more than anything by his spontaneity. Her mind did race though, everything that could go wrong with this trip flashing across her vision like snapshots. Her eyes flicked up to his face, looking into his eyes a long moment. It could be fine though, he was promising her that. And he was daring her.

Hestia was no Gryffindor, but she'd grown up with Tonks, playing quidditch and getting into quite a bit of trouble, mostly due to her friend's dares. Hestia always had a very hard time resisting a challenge.

"Well, I've always wanted to go to Florence. Though I will be very disappointed if the osso buco is not as good as you say." Still, if there was one thing she trusted about this man was his taste in food.

"All right then, let's go."

[anon_rabastan]

Rabastan chuckled when she accepted his invitation... and his challenge. He did like bold women and this was indeed bold on her part. She was trusting a Death Eater with her life and sanity. She was either shrewd or stupid. Personally he hoped for the former; stupidity was always tedious.

"Excellent!" he said, rising to his feet. He held out one hand to her as he tossed a few galleons on the table. It was nowhere near what was owed for the meal but it was certainly far more than the food was worth. "Oh, it certainly is. Mama de Luca... and don't call her anything other than that unless you'd care to have your hand slapped... is surely one of the finest cooks I have ever encountered."

He tucked her hand into his arm and led her out of the restaurant. Once they were outside, he apparated them both to a small alleyway not far from the restaurant.

"It's just down this way," he said keeping their pace to a slow amble as they emerged from the alleyway so that they simply blended in with the crowd instead of standing out.

They reached the restaurant in short order and the rotund man standing in the doorway greeted them with a beaming smile. "Rabastan!" he bellowed, rushing over and giving Rabastan a hug before kissing him on each cheek. "It has been far too long, my friend. Mama was beginning to fear you had abandoned her for another woman."

"Never," Rabastan said with a chuckle then he ushered Hestia forward. "I'd like you to meet Hestia Jones. Hestia, this is my friend, Mario de Luca."

Mario gave Hestia an intense look them held out both hands with a beaming smile. "Welcome, Signorina Jones."

[anon_hestia]

Hestia was certainly hoping she wasn't stupid. She took his hand and let him pull her to feet. Her lips quirked when she saw the amount of money he dropped on the table as her led them out of the restaurant. "I hope you'll pay more when I'm the chef." She was confident about it now. She could cook any dish on that menu and do it better than they did. Much better.

"Mama de Luca, I'll remember." She grinned, the situation just seeming so ridiculous. This, if it all ended well, would certainly be one of the more memorable days of her life.

Hestia let him lead her, doing her best not to gawk at the city like a stupid tourist, but she was sure it was hard to miss the way her eyes snapped to and fro, taking in she sights as best she could. She bit the side of her lip and flushed as she caught herself.

The restaurant was beautiful, all warm colors and old architecture lent it a charm that purely its own. Hestia's eyes focused on the man who came out, and fought down a laugh as he embraced Rabastan like a father would. Hard to imagine him with a father. Then Rabasatan introduced her. Hestia met Mario De Luca's look, then smiled and took the woman's hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mario."