@umbralsun as vann niorun : ❛ can’t we just enjoy the moment for once ? ❜
TRISTAN FEELS THE FROWN AND HIS BROWS PULLING TOGETHER BEFORE HE CAN STOP THEM. he knows perfectly well that he's being inordinately difficult, and as usual, he'd have trouble articulating exactly why even if he had any intention of doing so. leave it to vann to suggest something as carefree as enjoying the moment. the viper has never understood how such an upbringing as theirs could foster such casual optimism – although, truthfully, optimism is far from the correct world. vann knows the terror of the world, but ever persists in his goodness, it seems, despite, despite, despite. it's a fresh sort of bewildering stubbornness which once left tristan regularly baffled. now, he takes it better in stride, even though he doesn't think he'll ever fully understand.
and at least in this case, he sees where the other witcher is coming from. the river in which they've freshly bathed the kikimora blood from themselves babbles noisily somewhere to their right as they sit half-reclined against a rock, letting the sun warm their torsos and dry the water from their skin. it's calm, pleasant, relaxing ... enough to make tristan utterly restless. still, he cannot find it in himself to fully trust the sensation of safety, although he's slowly learning. at some point, he'd begun muttering about their next job, about how he would negotiate their fee or the two of them would start having to skip days of meals. there's a such thing as being too soft hearted, he'd chided, although he knows perfectly well vann wouldn't allow them to become that short on coin. his complaints seemed to amuse his companion more than anything, and when vann spoke moments later, his tone largely teased.
in response, tris simply grunts moodily, glancing at the other witcher out of the corner of his eye. vann cuts such an imposing figure that he almost blocks the viper's view of the horizon altogether. while tristan has always been used to being the smallest of the witchers he knows – and frankly most other people, too – his companion of choice dwarfs him considerably more than anyone he's ever met. but what once had felt strange now proves a comfort. patel has never and will never need a protector of any sort, but vann's size suits his steady presence, the determined calm overlaying years of anger. for a substantial time, tristan convinced himself that he followed the bear out of necessity, to repay his life debt in full. now, however privately, he has accepted that hasn't been the reason for a very long time.
a few moments of mercurial silence pass between them before tris shifts. briefly it appears as though he might rise. instead, he moves his legs to fold on the opposite side of him from vann. then, with all the grace of a grouchy housecat, he butts the top of his head into the other man's chest with a gentle thunk, leaning his weight into it and closing his eyes against the warmth of his companion's skin. for a time, there he remains, breathing deep the familiar scent, listening for the steady beat of vann's heart. his arms fold around himself as he leans more heavily against that broad chest, and although his hands do not reach for the man, the affection is far too thinly disguised to escape notice.
" enjoying. happy? " he asks finally as if annoyed, voice throughly muffled against vann's skin. yet despite his tone, the steady way in which he continues to melt into the other witcher as the moments pass easily betray his contentment.
