Tristan's Peace - Chapter 3
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters that you may recognize from King Arthur. Nor do I own any that you may recognize from the Dark Hunter Series by Sherrilyn Kenyon. I am merely playing with them for a time. So please don't sue me, I have no money. Nada, zippo, zilch.
op - I'm not meaning to confuse you. But, keep reading and I'll explain.
dellis - Thank You! I thought I was the only one. Don't they make alovely quick read?
snowbunny - Isn't he though? They are all dangerous. And I can't wait until Ashfinds his soul. Ms Kenyon has hinted, but it's a long way into the making. And can you just picture Tristan with fangs?
KnightMaiden - Hope this helps you further. And you are more than welcome!
Cardeia - Wow! What can I say to that massive review. I'm so pleased to have gotten you hooked. I just thoughtit would be nice to do something different with the"knights in out time thing."
So may questions you have. I would love to answer them personally, but, that woud give it away. Some of the particularsI need to still work out. Like HOW she died. It's a toughie. To read and think about. I was missing home, so I brought him to New York State. Whether Rochester or Buffalo, I'm not so sure.
I justloved your review. So many ideas you have given me. So, what should she be wearing when he firsts sees her again?
2005
Acheron had told Tristan to meet him at a small airstrip on the far edges of London. Nearly out of the city itself.
Tristan snorted as he climbed out of the cab. The heavy wind catching his hair as he looked around.
Small didn't cover it. More like a shack with a barely usable runway.
He had to shake his head. Most of the lights didn't even seem to be working. The heavy mist of the night fog making even those hard to see as it swirled around him.
It didn't take Tristan long to locate who he was looking for. Throwing his duffle over his shoulder, his long strides brought him to Acheron's side within moments.
The man stood leaning against the shack. Pushing himself away as he saw Tristan coming. Dropping the cigarette he had been smoking.
"Tristan." Acheron looked at Tristan, thinking that the man hadn't changed in the 1537 years he had known him. Though he had traded the traditional Sarmatian garb for something more current, he still had the longish hair with several braids throughout.
Which was to be expected. None of the Dark Hunters completely gave up their old habits or customs. Well, most of them didn't.
"Ash." Tristan didn't really pay attention to what Acheron had to wear. Though this time the man's hair was purple. Like him, he wore black denim jeans, big biker boots and a black leather trench. Where Tristan's shirt was white, Ash's was purple, matching his hair.
Both men looked at each other for long moments. Acheron being the taller of the two, had to look down. An amazing feat considering Tristan was over six feet in height.
Tristan just glared at the Atlantean out of the corner of his eye. He knew where Ash was, he didn't pose a threat. But, ever the scout, he was also looking everywhere. Always mindful of danger.
Ash offered to take Tristan's duffle bag, to which Tristan gave over, shrugging his shoulders. His sheathed sword had gotten dislodged with the weight of the bag. A simple movement of his shoulders brought it back in place. A familiar and welcome weight.
Acheron turned the opposite way Tristan had come, guiding the knight toward his private plane. The plane that would take Tristan to America. New York State to be exact.
As Tristan fell in step with Ash, he decided to get the unpleasantries over with.
"Why this sudden interest in me Acheron, after I don't know...three hundred years?"
Ash didn't miss the sarcasm in the scout's voice. Nor the bitterness. Tristan had a point, he hadn't been around for the man. But, it wasn't by his choice. Nothing about this man had been Acheron's choice.
It had been all Artemis'. She had made sure that he stayed away from Tristan. She had made sure that he was in the worst possible area. Surrounded by all those people, all those sounds. Artemis knew that Tristan hated all those things. That he would be perfectly contented to protect someplace completely remote.
No, that bitch did all this to Tristan just to piss off Acheron. Well, he wasn't going to take it anymore.
He couldn't. There were events in Tristan's life that he needed to change. He would worry about the repercussions later.
But, Tristan hadn't made it easy for anyone, much less himself. Always surly, always insisting that he wanted to be alone.
'Bullshit.' He wanted to be alone as much as Artie was content in her lot in life. She had created Tristan, he only helped it along.
She had made the knight a Dark Hunter after Victor Imperioli had killed his wife and brother. Then finished Tristan off, days later. Had made the proud knight watch the entire thing.
She had taken Tristan after he thought that his family had been killed. Offered Tristan the chance at revenge, for such a small price.
He had taken it, at the cost of his soul.
Only Artemis didn't have Tristan's soul. He had given that away long before he had died.
"Because, my friend, you are headed down a path I can't help you with." He responded, kinder than Tristan deserved.
"I don't need your help." Tristan sneered at Acheron. "The only one who can is..." He stopped himself. He wasn't going to go there.
There had never been a night or day in his nearly two thousand years of existence that he didn't think about her.
But Acheron was going to go there. It needed to be done. "Alive."
This stopped Tristan's forward movement. He glared at Acheron, barely turning his head. "No. She's dead. I watched her die."
"Not exactly."
"Explain." Ash was hedging. Tristan knew this by the way that he fairly destroyed the cigarette that he had been holding in his fingers.
"She's like you. Not dead."
"Are you telling me that my wife is a Dark Hunter?"
"Not exactly." Acheron looked up into the misty night sky, noticing that he couldn't see the stars. He took a moment, gathering his thoughts, ready to tell the story of how Tristan and Teagan came to be who and what they were.
He was going to tell Tristan a story that Artemis had forbade him to tell. And he knew he'd have to repeat it for Teagan.
He owed them both that much.
0o0o0o
Tristan listened to what Acheron told him. Not believing a word he had to say. It couldn't be true. He hadn't seen her at all in all these years. He would surely know if she was still on this earth.
Wouldn't he?
"That doesn't tell me how she can help me. Remember? She betrayed me. With my own brother."
"No. She didn't. Think Tristan. Did you feel that way as you watched her die?" Ash was probing Tristan's mind, trying to see how badly Artemis had messed with his mind. She wanted Tristan to think that Teagan had betrayed him, so she had planted those memories in his head. And mixed up the others in there, just for her amusement.
Tristan shook his head. No. He didn't. But his memories of after he died were such a mess. Most of his memories of his past with his wife were muddled, one contradicting another.
And being unstable of mind to begin with, Tristan's insecurities, warrior nature and blood lust all contributed with Tristan's downward spiral.
Artemis had known this. That to give Tristan immortality without the one who grounded him would eventually lead to disaster. That the silent and deadly scout would eventually snap.
Artemis did all this to get back at Acheron.
Acheron continued. "She holds your soul, Tristan."
Again, Tristan shook his head. "That bitch has it, Teagan doesn't."
The Atlantean didn't miss the flinch as he said her name. He knew Tristan was having trouble processing what he had told him. Artemis had done a real number on him.
"You gave it to her. The moment she died."
"How?"
"No one knows, much less Artie. And it pisses her off knowing that. She has spent all this time making your life hell, enjoying watching you slip into that abyss you've created."
0o0o0o
Tristan settled back into the plush leather seat, not bothering to strap himself in. Putting in the tiny earphone to his I-Pod, he turned the music up full volume. Drowning out the hum of the plane's engines.
Digging into his duffle, he pulled out the book he had been trying to read for days. He ran his calloused hand of the cover of Bernard Cornwell's 'Sharpe's Escape.' He opened it, easily finding his place. Dogged eared as it was.
All Tristan's books were dogged eared.
But, he couldn't concentrate on what he was reading. His mind went to what Acheron had told him. To what he had said about Teagan.
Dumping the book into his duffle, he looked out into the dark sky, watching as the clouds went by underneath the plane.
Metallica's 'Nothing Else Matters' filtering into his brain.
A/N: Well? Is any of this making any more sense? I'm trying to explain as I go. And I just love that song by Metallica. It got me through boot camp.
Keep vigilant, the times are about to start changing.