(1937-12-03) When a Witch Meets a Muggle
Details for When a Witch Meets a Muggle
Summary: So that's how witches and muggle men meet. Of course, this isn't Captain Bennet's first time meeting a witch, but neither knows that about the other. And so the two linger on common topics, interest in the dangerous situation in Europe, and even speak a bit of German to each other.
Date: Monday, December 03, 1937
Location: Fleet Street Bistro
Related:
Characters
KennethRhyeline

It is a fall night. The weather is warm and fair.


Fleet Street Bistro - London

The bistro hosts white table cloths and a basic design on every table of a single flower in a vase and a pair of salt and pepper shakers. The napkins are cloth and the chairs are very basic but the shapes are art deco. There are a few tables set outside but the majority are inside the restaurant. Little tables with two to four chairs are all around and give just enough room for people to sit comfortable in the relatively small space of the restaurant. Small pieces of artwork hang about on the walls and accent the decor. Two doors sit at the back of the restaurant are marked in and out and are for the staff to go in and out from the kitchen. The staff are dressed very plain with white shirts and black pants and are quite adequate at what they do.


Kenneth is seated near the window, looking rather dashing in his pressed military uniform. His hair of course is perfectly groomed, his table manners as he stirs his tea cup seem not lacking. Before him on the table is a small tablet of paper, a pencil and a plate of fish and chips served on a proper layer of newspaper. From time to time he will gaze out the window, the jot something down in the tablet.

Except for the outdated rust-red cloche she wears, Rhyeline does a rather good job blending in with muggle attire. Allowing the host to remove the navy-blue winter coat from her shoulders, the girl’s dark gaze drifts across the Bistro, lingering upon each inhabitant at a time. At Kenneth, she pauses at his uniform. She tilts her head to the side just a bit. Perhaps noticing her interest, the host guides her in his direction and seats her facing him against the next window. Once the little witch has placed an order for tomato bisque, she peeks over at the man.

Kenneth glances up at her once she has ordered and offers her a warm, friendly smile. His voice is a warm baritone, a soft note of wry humor in his words. "I don't bite, Miss, if that is what you are worried about. Nor am I an unpleasant sort of fellow. If you are curious about me, do please come and sit nearer so I don't have to speak over two tables to communicate with you." He then puts his pencil down and looks at her with frank curiosity.

A certain curiosity dwells within the girl’s own eyes as well. Hesitating a moment, Rhyeline glances away, just as her waiter disappears into the kitchens. Turning back to Kenneth, she watches him a moment before at last rising and drifting over to sit across from him. “Hello,” she murmurs in a voice as soft as you’d expect from such a little mouse. “My name is Rhyeline Diderot.”

Kenneth a slight quirk of his lips shows a dimple in his cheek. His eyes sparkle good naturedly as he replies "It is good to meet you, Miss Diderot. My name is Captain Kenneth Benton. I am recently arrived in London."

“Captain Benton. How do you do.” Rhyeline gives a respectful nod in greeting. “If I might ask, where were you before you came to London? Were-“ she hesitates. “Were you stationed abroad?”

Kenneth toys with the handle of his tea cup as he replies "No, I was farther upcountry, tending to family matters after the passing of my wife. I specifically requested London so I could be here in the thick of things for a while. Need to keep busy, as it were."

Rhyeline bites her lower lip. “Ah. I see. I’m sorry to hear of your wife’s passing. It’s good that you keep busy though. I… I find that work often helps me to keep from dwelling on the unpleasant things of life. Are they keeping you very busy then? “ The little one pauses as the waiter arrives with her tomato bisque. Nodding in thanks to him, she takes up her spoon and peeks over at Kenneth. “Preparations for the coming storm?”

Kenneth glances at her, his eyes watching her now with a bit more intensity. "What storm would that be, Miss? There are some storms that you have no way of gauging what the intensity will be until you are in the thick of it. Still, you are correct in assuming that some do prepare for storms before others do."

Rhyeline meets his intense gaze for only a few moments before she lowers hers, taking a careful sip of soup. “I have also only recently returned to London. Before that, I was serving at the British Embassy in Germany,” murmurs the young witch. “We were forced to return due to the growing danger.” She glances up at him with a solemn, dark stare. “That is the storm I am referring to. The dark cloud of war brewing over Europe.”

Kenneth says, "Sie haben in der schnen Land Deutschland gereist?" His use of the language is perfect, it sounds almost as if he is a native speaker. "I will be helping to predict that storm, Miss, and with God's help we will keep their fury from our shores."

Rhyeline doesn’t bat an eye at the mention of ‘God’. Having absorbed a fair amount of patriotic rhetoric she is used to hearing references to God and how he will hopefully rescue the queen. From drowning perhaps? A soft smile touches the girl’s lips and with a nod, she says, “Ja, mein Herr. Ich lebte dort für zwei Jahre.” Her accent is quite delicate, pronunciation flawless. Returning to English, she murmurs, “Thank you, sir, for your sacrifices to keep our homes safe.”

Is that a light tinge of color that touches his cheeks. "Thank you, Miss, it is a kind thing to say. Two years is a long time to live away from your home in service to the crown. I should in turn thank you for your sacrifice as well, though, living in Germany as it was before the great war was something akin to heaven, or so my grandfather told me." He lifts his tea cup and takes a sip. "So, you have returned from the British Ambassador's quarters in Berlin. Now what are you doing to make ends meet, or is it too bold to inquire?"

A subtle warmth touches Rhyeline’s rather pale features as well as he pays her a similar compliment. Having looked down at her soup, she peeks up at him once more to say, “I continue to serve the ambassador while he is here in London. For the moment, he was forced to withdraw from Germany and continues his diplomatic work from afar. I do what I can to assist him.”

Kenneth nods. "Then perhaps we will see each other more often, Miss, in an official capacity. May I say as much as you might have wanted to remain in Germany, it is better for you to be here. It is getting to be strange in Germany these days. They legislate kindness to animals, but their rhetoric about people is antagonistic."

“Yes,” murmurs Rhyeline with a nod. “It is most unfortunate that such economic hardship has pushed the population in the direction of extremes. It was most unfortunate when we were forced to withdraw, but-“ she hesitates “-it seems matters could not be salvaged. But as a military captain, do you interact much with diplomats?” The girl tilts her head to the side just a bit as she peers up at the man.

Kenneth coughs softly. "The work I do is a bit different. I am not bad at the whole soldier business, I am a fair eye with a gun. However, my main duties are Mathmatics. Probabilities and statistics. I might be seeing you more often than you might imagine."

Rhyeline smiles, her features clearing. “Ah, I see. You are about strategy, not so much tactics. You hold much power in your hands then. Much responsibility to get the numbers right.” She takes a sip of soup. Eyes gleaming with mirth, she adds, “No pressure.”

Kenneth chuckles softly, his dimple getting a bit deeper. "No, no pressure. Power in my hands is up for debate, my daughter has more power in her small finger than I have in mine. Still, I will endevor to do my best for England." His eyes grow a bit more serious as he cuts into the fish before him. "I hope to keep all that nasty rhetoric out of our homes. I do not wish my children tainted by their intolerance."

“I am certain that as the threat grows, England will rally against the darkness. I am sure your daughter will be well protected.” Rhyeline offers him a soft smile, though her eyes seem sad at the thought that not only a wife, but a mother has been lost. “How old is she?”

“We can only hope,” murmurs Rhyeline with a nod. Having finished her soup, she hides her lips with her napkin for just a moment. Then smiling up at him, she says, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Captain Benton. I hope our paths will indeed cross more often as you said.”

Kenneth nods. "It was a rare pleasure to meet you, Miss. I am glad to have made a new acquaintance in London."

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