The Game - celosia
A/N: Hello all! Small story on Tristan. I have absolutely no idea what the game they are playing is - it merely sounded good at the time. As with all my stories there will be no updates, because i can't:( . However if there is enough interest I might do a follow on. Thanks very much for reading and all feedback is appreciated.
Disclaimer: I make no claims to other's intellectual property...
The tables were empty in the tavern. It was mid afternoon, everyone was busy with something, apart from the lone figure seated at the knights' usual table. Tristan watched her from the doorway for a moment. She was moving wooden counters, cards and pegs in a systematic, intricate game. It made his head spin. What was this? Was there any point to it? He wanted to know and silently moved forward to sit next to her. She did not jump or flinch as they usually did, only shifted her eyes to his for a moment before continuing her movements.
"Ever played it before?"
"Don't even know what it is."
She chuckled and then in a few short, sharp hand movements seemed to finish. Her hands stilled, she looked at him fully for the first time and smiled in contentment. "It's always nice when it come through."
Tristan marvelled at her; such a sudden glow of happiness after minutes of sharp concentration. He wanted to learn.
She then set to work again, setting up opposing piles of counters and pegs and a smaller stack of carved cards with symbols inked onto them. Without a word she flicked a card and started again.
Tristan watched her play two more games before he had any idea of what was going on. It still made his head hurt but the fog was slowly clearing.
Vanora's head suddenly appeared, "Maye can you help me for a moment?"
She nodded, moved one more piece and stood to help Vanora.
Tristan could have screamed. Just as he was beginning to understand, she stopped! What was the bloody game, anyway? He looked at the pieces closely once more and tentatively moved a card and a counter. His hand hovered in uncertainty before he quickly made up his mind with a decisive nod. She watched him from the shadows, laughing silently to herself.
He sat back, waiting for her to return and finish the game, to see if he had understood. She returned shortly with an apple for him and a handful of dried berries and nuts for her to snack on. She looked at him closely as she sat and then at the pieces.
"Good."
He felt like he had just defeated an enemy twice his size and with more tricks up his sleeve than a magi. They grinned at each other like two children.
She got up and moved to sit opposite him, again rearranging the counters in opposing piles, one on his side and one on hers. She glanced quickly at his face and said in explanation, "two player".
They sat like that for the rest of the afternoon, until she had to go to work. Tristan never came close to winning and almost yelled at her on several occasions when she would move a peg, flip a card and then in the same movement pick up a nut, as if it was part of the game. It confused him.
As customers started to arrive, they finished. She wrapped the pieces in cloth and stowed them in a small leather bag.
"Tomorrow?", he asked hopefully.
She looked at him in amusement, "Right".
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"So Tris, where were you this arvo? Didn't see you anywhere." Bors was teasing. Vanora had told him of Tristan's activities and well, he was enjoying having something to hold over the scout's head. Gods know it didn't happen often.
"No where important." Tristan looked at him measuringly, his eyes glinting before flicking to the other knights at the table. None looked up.
She stood in the shadows at the back of the tavern listening to this brief exchange while serving some men. Multitasking was a wonderful thing. As she walked past the knights' table she chuckled softly to herself. Tristan heard her and hid his smile in his drink.
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Tristan came to the tavern the same time the next day. She was seated in her same position but her head rested on folded arms. Maye was fast asleep. Tristan walked behind the bar, helped himself to an apple and a drink and came to sit opposite her. He was content to wait. It had probably been a long night.
On his way past he noticed her legs curled up under her, the toes of her boots curling over the edge of the bench. Women. If he did that he would have trouble walking for days, at least.
He had finished the tankard and was beginning to eat his apple when Gawain, Lancelot and Bors walked in, coming to sit with him at the table.
Gawain looked at him strangely. "So this is how you like to spend your free afternoons?"
Lancelot chimed in, "I never knew sleeping women could be so interesting."
Tristan merely grunted before Bors explained what Vanora had told him the day before. They looked at him oddly but before they could resume their teasing, the sleeping woman sighed softly and slowly rolled a shoulder, easing her uncomfortable muscles. She raised her head, eyes still closed and covered by a curtain of hair, and lifting her hands above her head, stretched luxuriously.
She opened her eyes suddenly to see Tristan sitting before her, face passive as usual but eyes shining with amusement. Then she saw the other three knights. "How long have you all been here?"
Tristan now saw the leather bag containing the game, previously hidden by her folded arms and leaned over to pick it up. He handled the bag gently and began to lay out the pieces in preparation. She noticed his movements but was too busy questioning the others.
Lancelot broke into Bors' explanation of their presence there: "So you really were playing a game."
She glared at him, annoyed at the insinuation before turning to find the game laid out and Tristan expectantly munching on a slice of apple.
"Hold a moment", she said smilingly. "I need food." Easing out from her position she cursed her legs softly and moved haltingly to the larder, returning to the knights' delight with a large platter of bread, cheese, fruit and other oddments. Tristan looked with misgiving at the food, remembering her distracting movements from the day before. Today he hoped to better her. Or at least come close. He hoped she wasn't cheating because at this stage he honestly could not tell. But he didn't think she would play him so.
They settled down to play.
This time he was sure she was trying to confuse him with her hand movements. She would hover over one pile, hiding it from his view before moving to another, flipping a card or merely trying to trick him into thinking that she did.
He was feeling his control slipping. She was deliberately trying to fool him. But he would show her. Maybe not today or tomorrow or anytime soon, in fact, but one day. The others had long since lost interest, starting their own quiet conversation and only glancing now and then at the two facing off across the table.
Maye watched him, trying to hide her grin. Yes, he was getting better but still missed the finer points of strategy. She was enjoying this. She savoured the annoyance and frustration on his face, knowing he was not a man easily bested and that this was perhaps her only foreseeable chance to beat him so easily.
Gawain nudged Lancelot and directed his attention to Tristan and Maye. Tristan had an expression on his face usually only seen when encountering a party of woads and Maye, while straight faced was trying desperately to hide her laughing eyes. "I do believe our scout has finally met his match."
Lancelot sighed melodramatically, "As all great men eventually do." Bors silently raised his cup to a passing Vanora who looked on indulgently.
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Crowds were beginning to enter the tavern and Maye shifted in her seat, waiting for Tristan to move and finish the game. He was under pressure and did not like it. Suddenly it all became clear and he moved a peg in triumph, looking up with a happy grin. Then it struck him. That had been far too easy. She had let him win. He looked at her accusingly waiting for confirmation. She returned his gaze, mocking but kind while also packing up the pieces.
He growled, "What did you do that for?"
"You're getting better."
"You did not answer my question."
She stood up and looking down at him replied, "And my love I have absolutely no intention of doing so."
He was speechless. My Love? Only ancient grandmothers called you 'my love' in that tone of voice. What was she doing? She tried to trick him all afternoon and then called him a sickly sweet lover's nickname. Women! But no, his mind corrected itself. This particular woman was different. He had never seen the likes of her before and secretly hoped he never did again. She made his head hurt.
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Arthur looked at Tristan searchingly. His scout had been unusually curt all night. He was obviously fuming at something but Arthur had no idea what. He reviewed their interactions of late. No, he did not think he was the cause. Maybe it was one of the others. If it did not stop he would talk to them all tomorrow.
Maye watched from the shadows of the bar. Somehow the idea of Tristan being angry with her made her stomach twist in a nervous, upset way. Though it had been a jest she knew she had offended him and was busily making up for the affront. Her hands had been busy. Whenever she was not serving she had worked at carving him a wooden card, slightly bigger than her set. Instead of inking the symbol onto it she had etched it, creating a fine shadow on the wood. Later she would ink it in for him if he wanted it.
Tristan was yet again staring moodily into his drink, his mind floating free. He did not bother to look up when someone sat down next to him. He cared not. Let them occupy themselves because he was not in the mood. Something moved into his point of view. A carved wooden card. At this his eyes slid to the figure next to him.
Maye looked at him a moment before reaching over and patting his cheek. She grinned at him suddenly before getting up again to continue her work.
She moved on quickly. He glanced up at the abruptly silent knights around the table before dismissing them from his mind. Picking up the card slowly he studied her work. It was good for something done so quickly. A peace offering.
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They continued like this for several weeks, only interrupted when the knights were on a mission or Maye had a short break from the tavern routine to mind Vanora's children instead.
She continued to carve him his own game set, working on the pieces in her free moments and presenting them to him every so often. He in turn discovered her weakness for unripe, crunchy pears and proceeded to steal them at every opportunity. The other knights were often left waiting patiently outside orchard gates while their friend liberated the farmer of some of his fruit.
When injured after an encounter with a woad scouting party, Tristan awoke in his own bed to find the remaining pieces of the game resting on his table. Before again succumbing to sleep, he noticed he now owned a complete set. When he next awoke, there was a soft, tooled leather pouch as well.
He was able to beat her now. She didn't mind. A less competitive person would have been hard to find. Tristan was also a relatively easygoing partner and only became mildly annoyed at her when she was uncaring and made stupid moves. She only played the game to remind her of home and better times. It was never about wining. And it had been nice to find a partner to play with. There was, after all only so much fun you could have on your own.
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He decided to play a trick on her one day, as she had done to him in the early days of their competition.
"So what do I get for winning?"
She looked at him in surprise. "What? You want a prize? How about an apple?"
"I can get all the apples I want, but this", he said gesturing to the game they were in the middle of, "takes skill, concentration, talent..."
"Modest aren't you? Do I get something for beating you in all those early games we played?" She didn't like the glint in his eyes. The man was planning something and she didn't like it. Not one bit.
They locked glares, each attempting to stare the other down. It was his move and his hand flicked out and then returned to its resting position on the table. She would have to break her glare to see what he had done. Sighing in frustration Maye looked down. Damn! The man had won and worst of all, had a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
"So in return for winning, what is it that you want?" Inside she was laughing quietly.
He stretched his arms above his head gleefully, all the while keeping his eyes on her. When finished, he said quietly, so that she was not sure if she had heard him correctly: "a kiss."
Well, he certainly had a nerve. She mulled over the proposition for a moment before nodding her head.
They met over the table, each leaning halfway. Their lips brushed each other and connected. It was short, sweet and rather chaste, not entirely what she had expected. A man who was claiming a prize (and that's what it was) usually went above and beyond, taking whatever liberties he thought to get away with. But not Tristan. When finished he leaned back, looking perfectly content and began to pack away their game.
He was unlike any other man Maye had met. He was perplexing but she was glad that Tristan had not pushed her, because otherwise she would have thought less of him and she didn't want to do that. They parted as usual, with no awkwardness but quite a bit of confusion on her part.
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That night in the tavern she worked as usual but her thoughts constantly returned to their kiss. Just what was he playing at? What did it mean? Was it some kind of revenge for the early fun she had had at his expense? On reflection, this was very possible, and so very like Tristan. After all, what other explanation was there? She startled one of the roman patrons with her sudden smile at the revelation and, seeing the interest and invitation on his face moved on very quickly. She was thinking of a plan.
Later in the night Maye left her tray behind the bar and walked to the knights' table, sitting without an invitation next to Tristan. Who, she noted did not look at all surprised. Well, we shall see if this lasts. He smiled at her in welcome and because she said nothing, turned back to the others.
At last, she said his name to gain his attention. It had taken her several moments to collect herself. "I have decided what it is I would like for winning all those times." Her voice was decided.
He was surprised. This was unexpected.
Then without warning, she leaned forward, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, moulding herself to him. He growled deeply in the back of his throat and hauled her onto his lap, not breaking the embrace.
Maye felt a glow of satisfaction. Bloody noble Tristan (though it was sweet) could be far too indirect at times. And this was so much more enjoyable.
A drunken Bors looked up from his ale and nudged Lancelot who was staring open mouthed at the couple: "Gods know it's taken them long enough."
As lovely as it was, Maye needed air. She tugged one of his braids and they broke apart, each breathing raggedly. She rested her forehead against his, seeing a glow in his eyes that must be mirrored in her own.
Maye could not resist one last jest and whispered against his lips, "Who knew winning could be so fun?"
She felt his body ripple with laughter before he leaned forward and again captured her lips with his.
A/N: Thanks to all those reading this and please review! If you really want me to I'll write a follow on/sequel to this. Thanks yet again and hope you enjoyed it.