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The Drage Residence 2

S

Sammael Stark

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Sammael had apparated into some woods near Tristan's house and walked up to the door, hoping that Tristan was home. As he was standing in a muggle neighborhood, Sammael knocked, crossing his arms impatiently as he waited.
 
Tristan opened the door, and said disinterestedly, "Hello, Sammael," stepping aside to let the man in. "I doubt you'd drop by for a cordial visit, so what's the news for today?"
 
Sammael smirked as he uncrossed his arms and walked into the house. "Now why would I not stop by to see you Tristan? Well, that is beside the point. I do in fact have news. A Carlisle Bennett is currently eating dinner at Malfoy Manor." Sammael turned around to fave Tristan, having walked into the kitchen.
 
Tristan raised his eyebrows. "And why would he be at Malfoy Manor?" He smirked. "I thought Lucius would die before he let a muggle into his house; maybe he's gone soft?"
 
"Oh it is not for pleasure, but for business. With the muggle under our watch, he cannot cause us problems. At least, that is Lucius' thinking."
 
Tristan smirked. "So, I suppose you came to tell me to stay away from Malfoy Manor? Can do." His expression was strained but dark. "Would you like anything to drink?"
 
"I suppose a drink could not hurt. Anything to stay away from the house." Sammael walked over to the table and sat down. "What do you have Tristan?"
 
Tristan moved to a cupboard above the fridge. "Not much, but I have Vodka, Red Wine, rum, and a can of beer. Not really a selection." He pulled out the Vodka for himself. He smirked. "Why would you want to stay away from the house, Sammael?"
 
"Would you be willing to share that vodka? Things between Morgase and I are...well, I do not quite understand what is going on." Sammael looked slightly tired, worn down. It was a very rare thing for him to show himself genuinely like this.
 
"Speak, cousin," Tristan replied, pouring Sammael some Vodka. He was very surprised; him and Sammael were rarely on good terms.
 
Sammael gratefully took the vodka and downed what Tristan had poured for him in one gulp, forcefully returning the small glass to the table as he relished the alcohol. "Well, Morgase has been acting...odd. That is the only way I can describe it. I realize I had not made the best move in trying to keep her out of things, and I did what I could to rectify that. But, she has not been the same ever since it happened. I see her much less now. She keeps herself locked up in her study. I fear that one of these days she will slip me a potion. When I do see her, she seems cheerful, which is quite out of her character." Although Sammael usually did not divulge personal information to anyone, especially Tristan, he felt the need to speak with someone about this.
 
Tristan raised his eyebrow, and knew that what he was going to say next would probably make Sammael angry, and he would have to be careful. "Well, this is not necessarily the reason that people would be odd, but have you considered that she could be cheating on you, Sammael?"

He knew nothing about what was really going on, of course, but from listening to what Sammael had said it was his best guess.
 
Sammael's anger flared up and his golden eyes widened, beginning to glow. He took a few breaths to regain himself and turned to Tristan, his anger subsiding slowly. "I must admit it is a possibility, although I would rather it not be." The anger completely gone, Sammael now looked dejected. "What happened Tristan? What has happened to us? We were great, we were powerful, we had everything. Look at us now. We cannot control our daughters and women are ruining our lives."
 
Tristan smirked, internally surprised that Sammael was being this open with him. "Um, we got old?" he inquired with a laugh. But he had to agree with his cousin. His expression darkened. "But I guess, as Valcan would say, we moved away from the family, and that's where all of our problems are coming from."
 
Sammael smirked at Tristan. He grabbed the bottle of vodka and poured himself some more. "I miss vodka," he said, taking a drink. "Morgase finds it revolting, so I must sneak it. I never thought that I would be controlled by a woman like that." Sammael drained the rest of his glass and looked to Tristan. "It is not so bad, not being rivals. It reminds me of life before we began training."
 
"Yeah," Tristan replied quietly, "But women are women. Are you so surprised?" He laughed. "I suppose. But then, we were boys. Now, we are full grown men. I'm not big into the rivalry thing either; I think my father just imbues conflict in people." He took a long swig from his glass, draining it, and slammed it down. Filling it up again, he asked, "Top it off?"
 
"A bit more could not hurt. I am sure your father helped with things, but I am pretty competitive on my own. Do you recall my days as Chaser?"
 
"I do," Tristan grinned evilly, "And I remember my days as a beater. But we were on separate teams. I remember how mad you were at me, that one time that I smacked that bludger towards you, nearly knocking you off of your broom and causing you to drop the Quaffle that would have saved Slytherin the game." He laughed, pouring Sammael some more Vodka.
 
Sammael chuckled slightly as he picked up his glass, draining it once more. "Yes, that was a good game." He paused for a bit, thinking beofre speaking once again. "My temper, it seems to have come back. Morgase, she has sparked it somehow. I am losing control," Sammael said reluctantly. He had always been praised for the control he had learned to have over his emotions.
 
Tristan drained his own glass, thinking, and filled up once more for both him and Sammael. "I don't know whether to say that's a bad or good thing," he mused. "Especially when your own daughter is coming, and she won't be able to control her own. At least, neither of us were at that age." He was talking about himself and Sammael of course.
 
Sammael had been drinking while Tristan was speaking, more slowly now, and set the half-empty glass on the table. "I am a bit worried about how that will go. Sophia was quite easy to control as a child, because we disciplined her so much. She was very obedient. I do not know how obedient she will be now. My guess is not quite as much." Picking up his glass, Sammael drained the rest of it and set it back down. He was beginning to feel the warm sensation in his stomach.
 
Tristan's vision was becoming a bit blurry, and his speech became even more slurred as he was drinking, but his intellect went slowly. "Good luck with that, cousin," he commented, a little more loudly and boisterously than usual, "Hopefully she's not a hell raiser like my kid. I still regret not going back to Carlisle's to get her, you know, after I found out that Lorelei was dead..." He shook his head, trying to get rid of the bad memories, as he was normally a happy drunk. "Hell raiser," he repeated, his speech all over the place.
 
Sammael could not surpress a smirk as he observed Tristan. "Apparently you have lost some of your tolerance, cousin. Why did you not go back for your daughter? Afraid?"
 
"Nope. I know it sounds weak, but everyone advised me not to at the time. They said that she was provided for, probably happier having a constant family, and that I should concentrate on being a Death Eater. I realize now that that wasn't a good idea," he sighed. "So no, I wasn't afraid."

He took a long swig of vodka, slamming it down on the table. "Although I daresay you're not as much of a family man now, Sammael?"
 
"I was never Mr. Family Man, I am willing to admit that. I was there, and I raised Sophia. I treated her more like an apprentice than a child, but I do not regret that. Sophia is strong, capable, she will do well on her own. She has done well without a loving coddling father this far, I am sure she does not need one now."
 
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