#tristan:thread

[stormxblooded]

@brokenstarters​

Open To All 

Tristan had never done particularly well when under constraint. Being under lockdown in Winterfell was, undeniably, a constraint, one that had his skin itching and his nerves on edge. Not since he had first returned to Wayfarer’s Rest had he last felt like this, as though there was nowhere to run. He sat in the library now. It wouldn’t be his usual choice of venue, but without a change of scenery,he felt he would grow honestly and truly mad. 

It wouldn’t hold him forever, wouldn’t keep him satisfied for long, but it was enough for now. Tristan sat upon his chair, long legs crossed at the ankles, book in hand. A rare sight. The Lord could not remember the last time he had so much as glanced at a book - perhaps back before he had left the Riverlands the first time around, for reading certainly did not take up much of his time in The Free Cities. 

Tristan heard the tell-tale sounds of footsteps upon the stone floor. There was never a moment of peace in Winterfell, and though he usually preferred to be alone, he was finding himself more and more grateful of that fact. Snapping the book shut, he raised his head, surveying the newcomer thoughtfully. 

“Have you come to tell me they have found the culprits, and we can all go home? I’m afraid my mood won’t much improve unless that’s the case.”

[stormxblooded]

@stormlanded​

There were few in the world that Tristan is fond of, and even fewer that he would call a friend. Most of those who did number among those ranks were members of The Brotherhood, or those he had left behind in The Golden Company, men he had fought beside and knew better than he knew his own family. Outside of that bubble, the people  he cares about could be counted on one hand. 

And then, there was Kathrynne Baratheon. 

Tristan wasn’t certain when he realised they were friends, honest to god, true friends, but it was undeniable. Unlike most of the people he met, spending time with her doesn’t make him want to run a mile from any form of civilisation. That in itself was remarkable. 

As much as he likes her, though, he is nervous to speak to her today. He wants to make sure she is all right - of course he does, with so much uncertainty casting its shadow upon Winterfell - but more than that, he has a proposal for her - in quite the literal sense, and he is not certain how she will take it. But if there is anybody he can speak of such matters clearly with, it’s Katherynne, for even if she does not find what he has to say as appealing as he hopes, there will be little worry of scorn from her end. 

“I did not know if you would be here or not,” he confesses, running a hand over his unshaven jaw. “I am glad that you are, though.” There was so much to say. Last he had seen her, she had been married, but things had changed for the both of them. He had heard what Lord Royce had to say about his young bride, had been furious on her behalf. It had not been a love match by any means, but he could not deny her circumstances must be difficult. 

 “Would you mind accompanying me for a walk, Lady Katherynne? You should be safe with me.” 

[stormxblooded]

@ofsaintsnsinners​

Tristan was many things. A lord. A brother. A son. He had been known by many roles in his life, and had utterly failed at all of them. The walls he built around himself were high, and to date, only a select few had been able to breach them, however temporarily before he flitted out of their lives once more. 

All of these failures, but there was one that stuck out as the biggest, the worst. The role of the father. Tristan had never seen himself with children, and over the last few years, since the birth of the son he hardly knew, it was clear why. It wasn’t the responsibility of it. At least there, he could say he wasn’t shirking his duties. He had always provided financial support where he could, but it wasn’t enough, and he knew it. But then, how could you give so much of yourself to somebody, when nobody had done the same for you? 

None of his explanations for how he had acted came to mind now though. How could he even begin to tell Maraiya all that was on his mind? there was no way of going about it that did not involve disrespecting all she had done, so instead, Tristan shuffled from one awkward foot to another, nodded his head in greeting, and opened his mouth to speak. 

“You look well,” he began, somewhat lamely. “Is all well with... with the child? And with you?”

[stormxblooded]

@deeperthanswcrds​

“I yield,” Tristan called, tossing his sword to one side and holding up his hands in surrender. When he had left The Golden Company, he never would have dreamed of giving up, even a harmless sparring match. Still, Dorian was a formidable opponent, and despite his adventures, Tristan was woefully out of practise. “But I am willing to fight again. After a short break, of course.” He would ache tomorrow, but he didn’t really mind.