TRISTAN
I'll come to thee by the moonlight,
though hell should bar the way
T
he ambience in the tavern was pleasant that night, as it was nearly every evening in Seamus’ Place.A young would-be performer played a merry violin in the corner, his lavender skin and curved horns accompanied with a wide grin as he played quite animatedly. Tristan made a mental note to tip the youngster well for his hard practiced entertainment. The general din of discussion and wayward voices could hardly be made out over the jaunty tune, but drinks were flowing and spirits were bright, and all in all it appeared to be just the same as it was every evening.
Tristan reclined at his usual corner table, his usual drink in a cup just in front of him, mostly untouched. It was his second of the evening and he had no intention on overindulging. Merlin snoozed upon the worn tabletop, stretched out upon his back with his wings beneath him and tail hanging off the side of the table to twitch back and forth in slumber. The knight had been there for nearly an hour, perhaps a little more, but he had taken his table after engaging Seamus in their usual friendly conversation and teasing banter as the man poured him his first drink of the evening. The barman was a brilliant conversationalist and few knew the word on the streets quite like he did. They went far back, the two of them; it was one of the only rare perks of immortality.
Lifting his tankard of mead the knight took a drink, keen turquoise eyes scanning the scenery. The table he sat at was stationed so that he could see every exit and entrance into the tavern itself, a habit built from lifetimes of war, fighting, and bloodshed. It also allowed him a good vantage of the tavern itself, and he was content to watch patrons come and go as they pleased. Everyone knew to behave in Seamus’ bar, and rightly so; the enchanted walls would have no mercy if violence was struck up within these walls, and Tristan had no qualms in stepping in to help enforce the rules before things got too unruly.
A cool breeze swept across the interior of the tavern as another individual shuffled in from the streets outside and it was habit alone that had Tristan scanning him from across the room. Broad, tall, and looming, the knight recognized him immediately even though the memories were fuzzy simply from how long ago it had been.
General Kodarki.
A greyed brow raised in surprise. What in the world was he doing here…? Concern and curiosity fought for dominance within his breast, but he watched the General as he moved throughout the tavern, shuffling in. Perhaps it was by allure alone, the connection of their history alone and the inevitable magnetism that came with fighting side-by-side that caused their eyes to meet, and from behind the rim of his tankard did Tristan grin, turquoise eyes glittering in the low-lit lights as he held the General’s stare.
He motioned for the General to join him with a nod, but offered no word. Not yet.
@Galileo
