Wine-Talk (Elendion again)

Or, thoughts about the Unattainable.

'Show me a man who has had everything he ever wanted, and I'll be looking at a man without a soul.'

The Elf looked up from his goblet in Cullin's Inn, and around at the people seated near him.

Rakasan Tshar, that magnificently drunk Lurikeen, snorted loudly in his cup.

Elendion gestured with his goblet of wine.

'You take exception, noble one', the Siabra smiled and nodded his head at the diminuitive guest.

'Yes, I do', Rakasan slurred, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

The others nearby, regulars for the most part, grinned; Rakasan Tshar was a legendary figure among Tir na Nog's drunkards and wastrels. Where the little 'Keen stored all of his drink, nobody could say. But put it away, he did.

'That is a statement', Rakasan paused to belch, 'made by one who has not had his fill of what he yearns for.' He grinned evilly at the silver-haired Enchanter. 'You seek what you cannot have, and make a virtue out of not attaining it!'

Scattered applause rang out in Cullin's Inn; Elendion smiled slightly and bowed to the little one, his purple and grey cloak swirling behind him.

'But Master Rakasan...would you allow me to use you as an example?' The Elf's smile was ironic upon his lips.

'Only if you buy me another flagon!' shouted the Keen, to chuckles from his fellow imbibers. He bowed mockingly back to Elendion.

The tall Siabra smiled back at him, and called out to Geron the barkeep, who sat another container of wine at Rakasan's elbow. The Keen topped off his glass, and drank greedily.

Savan Gaidin, the magnificently-dressed Celt, sat silently in the corner, drinking his ale and watching the Elf.

'Now that you are properly lubricated, little Master', said Elendion with a nod, 'I shall continue.'

'Rakasan Tshar loves a maiden. The maiden is wine.'

Tempeste chuckled slightly, amused by it all.

Elendion continued. 'Rakasan Tshar has known his love many times. He has found her in her many guises, and has drank deeply of her. He has been satiated often!' He held his goblet high in the air, then drained it. Other patrons followed suit.

He sat down the empty goblet with a thump upon the table. 'But Rakasan Tshar has nothing left to look for, to long for, to...discover. About himself, or another. Rakasan Tshar's life stopped the first morn he awoke, his mistress clouding his mind with heavy wine fumes. He has nothing new to learn of her, or himself.'

The drinkers pondered this.

'I find myself each and every night, at the bottom of a new cup!' exclaimed the Keen.

'More like each and every hour that Cullin's serves you', quipped Fethdar, cleaning a mug behind the bar.

There was laughter, and Rakasan turned a squinting frown at Fethdar, remembered what his bar tab was, and decided not to say anything. He tossed another cup of wine down.

'You try to find yourself again, good Rakasan,' said Elendion in a clear, sad voice. 'You try to find that first wonderful night once more, the first time you found your mistress wine.' His Elven eyes glinted brightly.

Rakasan Tshar snorted again, and gathered up his dignity, what little remained of it in his mind. His robe was spattered with many a winestain. He started to say something, stopped, and refilled his winecup from the flagon.

Savan Gaidin spoke up from the corner. 'And what kind of example would you be, Siabra?'

But he spoke to a closing door. The tingling electric feel of the spell named Superior Effervescence was in the air, and Savan's words fell woodenly upon the rest of the room, to ponder or ignore at their befuddled leisure.