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Galahad sits at the table and watches as Tristan feeds bits of apple and chunks of bloody meat to his falcon. If he were to try that, the bird would take off a finger.
It never fails to amaze him how calm – how tame – the bird is in Tristan's grasp.
"You're thinking again, little knight," Tristan says as he holds out another gobbet of meat.
"Is that not allowed?" Galahad asks, his back going stiff at the words.
"No, it is," Tristan says. His eyes shift to peer at Galahad through a fall of dark hair. "But you do it rather loudly."
Galahad's eyes narrow. He shakes his head after a moment. "How do you get him to do that?"
"Respect," Tristan replies, his lips quirking in a ghost of a smile as he allows the change in subject.
"Respect?"
"I respect him for the killer he is," Tristan says. "He appreciates that."
His eyes remain on Galahad, heavy and piercing, and Galahad curls his hands into loose fists on top the table. Those eyes see far too much.
And yet, Galahad knows, sometimes they don't see anything, not even when it's right in front of Tristan's nose. For a scout, Tristan is remarkably blind at times.
"Is that all it takes?" Galahad asks, striving for a light tone.
But Tristan's eyes flick up from the bird once more, and Tristan slowly smiles. That smile sends a shiver across Galahad's skin. "Of course," Tristan says. "It's a relationship of equals."
They lapse into silence. When the falcon takes off, flying low to zoom out the door, Galahad flinches.
Tristan's soft laugh fills the room. And when Galahad frowns at him, Tristan's teeth flash in a white grin.
He doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to. Not when his thoughts are plain on his face, sparking hot in the depths of those dark eyes. It's enough to make Galahad swallow hard.
"Little knight," Tristan finally says as he stands, "try to figure out what it is you want."
Before Galahad can say a word, Tristan turns and walks away. Galahad watches him go.
Before Tristan steps through the door, he turns to look over his shoulder at Galahad.
Just like that, Galahad realizes that it isn't that Tristan is blind. He sees everything. It's simply that he's far better at hiding his thoughts than Galahad had first imagined.