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Date Posted: 02:14:45 11/18/01 Sun
Author: Tristan and Laurel
Subject: Trying new attitudes
In reply to: Tia 's message, "Joining the breakfast crowd" on 10:32:50 11/16/01 Fri

Tristan grinned at Marz’s appreciation for his kiss, that single, hungry word enough to make even a stoic dragon crack a smile. He wasn’t too happy to discover that they were no longer alone in the bathing room, however, and he made a point of silently expressing his impatience to leave. Marz noticed, and they were swiftly on their way back to the room, Tristan’s stomach already beginning to growl a bit.

He rolled his eyes when he heard Marz pause and mutter about the way he was dressed. Like I ever notice how you’re dressed, he thought, as he entered the room and rummaged through the dresser for some pants and a shirt. Really, he liked the way Marz looked no matter what he was wearing. He was generally too dreamy-headed to notice the finer details of proper attire, which was probably why all his outfits were not only lacking in finery but also stunningly identical to one another. He was partial to dark colors and to leather, but other than that, if it did its job adequately enough, he could care less.

Just as he was about to pull on a pair of (surprise) black leather pants, Marz startled him with a sudden burst of passion, though he was quick to recover and return the desire. Maybe I should kiss you in public more often, he reflected with a tiny smile. Afterward, he watched Marz get dressed, for a moment not too shy to appreciate his lover’s well-built figure and glowing bronze skin. After a second, he dressed himself, but alas, there was no hurry, as silly Marz had to tidy the whole room up before they could leave. Tristan huffed under his breath while he watched him make the bed and begin to fold the clothes which had, gods forbid, landed on the floor; though, despite his impatience, it never once entered his head to help.

Eventually, they did make it to the dining room (which looked a hell of a lot better than it did last night, by the way). Tristan was still in an extraordinarily good mood, thanks to the morning’s rare quiet soak in the tub (pre-Eremis, that is) and their impromptu lovemaking. Still, he was a little more bashful than usual, and he kept blushing for no reason at all. Somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone around them had some way of knowing what they’d just done, and one by one the others would jump up and shout triumphantly, “Hahaha! You had sex! You just had sex! Hahahaha!”

He was shaken from his horrific daydream by the arrival of Justin and Eremis. When he heard Erlic tell the healer that he was to be returned home and be replaced by another man, Tristan was more than a little saddened. Now who would he talk to the next time Marz pissed him off so bad they weren’t even speaking to each other? Eremis was the only friend he felt moderately close to, as well as the only person who could ever understand him on some levels. They were both quiet, and tended to not be the first to speak. They both liked to think before acting rashly, too. Well, we just won’t get into any more fights, I guess, he thought, smiling a little sadly when Marz squeezed his knee.

He too, concentrated on his meal, although he wanted very much to talk to Eremis about leaving. He knew there was no way to convince the healer to stay, since he obviously had never been the adventuring type to start with. But still, he wanted to say something. Any showing of disappointment concerning Eremis’ approaching absence might be taken the wrong way, however, so he just kept his mouth shut---at least in public.

”I’ll miss you,” he said mentally to Eremis, although he kept his eyes lowered to his plate. He wanted to say he was sorry they didn’t get to hang out more, or that he was grateful just for being his friend, but he was a little too proud to say all that mushy stuff. Eremis probably had tons of friends back home, anyway. Well, at least he still had Marz. He sighed and continued eating, comforted by that thought more than he would have realized possible.



Laurel awoke with a slight headache tapping at her forehead. That was unusual, as she hadn’t had hardly anything to drink last night, unless Kazabet’s wine had gone bad. Oh, that’s right, she recalled dryly, I was angry again. She sighed at her own stupidity and slowly got out of bed, rubbing at her temples until the pain subsided. She’d probably had her brows all knitted together all night. She could be such a silly goose, sometimes!

Chuckling to herself, she proceeded to get dressed, pulling on brown, close-fitting leather trousers before slipping a soft green jerkin over her white undershirt. After running a brush uselessly through her wild hair, she tossed the thing aside before stepping aside, deciding to forgo a bath this morning, since she’d taken a quick dip in the pool in an attempt to cool her temper before bed yesterday.

She was surprised to discover the rose tied to her doorknob; mostly, because it had been some time since she’d been the beneficiary of the gallantries of her “noble and worthy suitors” back home. A moments concentration and consultation into the still living plant’s history revealed that it had been placed there by Erlic.

“And no note or anything,” she mused, twirling the thorny stem idly in her fingers as she thought for a minute. “He’s an odd one, I’ll give him that! It’s a wonder we don’t vex each other more than we already do.” Gently, she placed the rose in a vase by her nightstand, before exiting her room for good. She was inwardly touched by Erlic’s gesture, but decided not to say anything about it, since he had, after all, not as yet outwardly admitted to having delivered it.

On her way to the dining room, she thought over her past behavior and came to a rather gratifying conclusion. “No more Miss. Goldleaf,” she murmured to herself as she strode down the hallway. “No more sweet politican, no gentleman’s daughter, no wealthy landowner any longer. Just Laurel. That’s all I am to them, and all I want to be.”

With these confident thoughts swimming happily through her brain, she walked into the dining room, a cheery look on her unusually beaming face. “Good morning, everyone!” she said, stilling smiling as she took her seat at the table and helped herself to some muffins. Perhaps Erlic would speak to her about last night, and perhaps he wouldn’t. Didn’t matter. She was turning over a new leaf today (she giggled to herself behind her hand at the thought of a druid “turning over a new leaf”---and felt wonderfully childlike for doing so). No highbrowed, noble ideas this morning. She was just simple, plainly spoken Laurel. Somehow, deep inside, she didn’t think she could act the façade for very long, but damn it, she was going to try!

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