warofthebeasts asked:
The warmth of the tavern welcomed him, the din no more than background noise to the voice of his inner sorrow, and his muted gaze remained downcast as he made his way to the bar. In silence, he hefted himself onto a vacant seat, and it was only once he was seated that he slipped the hood of his cloak down.
For a moment, Lucius closed his eyes; the day had been long, and the morrow promised to be longer.
[ from @warriorprince ]
If there was one thing Rosaria had always been known for(aside from chocobos), it was its warm and welcoming atmosphere. Although the nation, once more independent yet struggling to regain its stability, was still a long ways off from being back on its feet -- its people were slowly coming to terms with their new reality. (Even if the journey forward into this new future would be fraught with strife and hardships.)
The hard-fought and blood-nourished roots of change had finally begun to grow between the cracks and ashes of destruction. The losses, the sacrifices... They had not been in vain, and in this did the Cursebreaker find solace.
The local tavern was lively again. Merchants from other parts of Rosaria, as well as from Dhalmekia, were the majority of the evening's patrons; their travels had brought them to rest at this settlement for the night, and come the morning, they would be off again to their respective destinations. But for now, they were congregating, exchanging stories and showing wares, discussing business(though never in enough detail to give away their tricks of the trade), and of course drinking too. Among their number were a few Cursebreakers -- Miles included, come to patrol the road and ensure supplies reached the next town without incident.
While the others were content to mingle, the former Archduke much preferred to drink in peace at the bar -- not out of lack of desire to socialize, but simply because he was exhausted. The tankard of ale he'd just finished off was placed on the worn wooden counter, and he heaved a satisfied sigh. Those age-faded blue-green eyes closed briefly. Oblivious as he was to the noise around him and the comings and goings of others from the establishment, one would imagine it to be much the same when another fellow took up residence at the bar. After all, a cloaked traveler was nothing out of the ordinary.
But when he happened to spare a glance over at the younger man, just in time to see that hood lower and his face revealed, there was a pang of familiarity. Something deep, something nagging; it tugged at the fringes of Elwin's memory, enough so that it drove him to vacate his own seat in favor of moving to a closer stool.
With a slight but nonetheless warm smile, he gestured for the barkeep's attention, then gestured again towards the newcomer. "Your finest ale for my friend here," "Miles" requested. Then he turned towards the other. "You look as though you could use it."