The North's Shadow

Taverns and Townspeople

Snow covered the rooftops, and golden light glowed from the windows as we rode into town. Lanterns and festive decorations lined the streets while villagers moved around us, busy with festival preparations.

So, this is Glasverne. I felt a bit awestruck. I imagined an icy fortress at first, but tonight, I heard laughter, chatter, and smelled the warm scent of spiced cider and pine drifting through the air.

Alaric led me to a busy building with a sign swinging above the door, painted with the image of a frosted stag. "Here we are," he said, pushing open the door to reveal a cozy, bustling tavern.

Inside, warmth and noise hit me like a welcome hug. People crowded around tables, mugs in hand, and the air was filled with laughter and the clink of glasses. A fire crackled in a large stone hearth, casting a soft glow across the room. This is what a real tavern should feel like, I thought, already feeling at home.

A tall barmaid with dark curls and a playful smile caught sight of Alaric and waved us over. "Well, look who finally graced us with his presence!" she teased him with a mock-scolding look. "Didn't think you'd be back so soon."

Alaric chuckled, looking completely at ease. "Couldn't miss out on a warm drink and even warmer company, could I, Sylvie?" He turned to me, gesturing toward the barmaid. "Reese, this is Sylvie, the true keeper of this place."

Sylvie's light brown eyes sparkled with interest as she looked me over. "And you must be the lady brave enough to keep Alaric company," she said with a laugh. "Lucky man, I'd say."

I glanced at Alaric, smirking. "That's one way of putting it."

Sylvie smiled, clearly pleased. "Well, any friend of his is a friend of mine. And between you and me, you're far easier on the eyes."

I grinned, noticing the flicker of amusement in Alaric's eyes as we took seats at a nearby table.

Sylvie returned shortly with two tall ales, winking at me as she set them down. "On the house for tonight," she said, giving Alaric a quick pat on the shoulder before heading back to the bar.

I took a long sip, warmth spreading through me. "It's been ages since I've had a drink with... well, friendly company," I said, giving him a sidelong glance.

He raised an eyebrow, swirling his ale. "No taverns where you're from?"

"Oh, plenty, but it's a bit different." I paused, searching for the right words.

He tilted his head. "Different how?"

"It's more chaotic. People don't really talk to each other unless they're already friends. Half the time someone's butchering a song on karaoke, and everyone's just sort of doing their own thing."

Alaric raised his eyebrows at karaoke, as his gaze lingered. "Did you find company there?"

I laughed, a touch defensively. "Like friends?" He nodded, and I shrugged. "A few, here and there."

He nodded, still watching me intently. "I've known some of these people all my life," he said, looking toward a lively group in the corner. "My father would bring me to town on festival days, and my mother insisted I learn every merchant's name. She believed you couldn't lead well unless you knew your people personally."

A faint, almost nostalgic smile touched his lips. "She'd scold my brothers and me for making too much noise while we followed her around town. But she loved it here. I think she wanted us to feel the same."

I gave a small, thoughtful smile, glancing at the lively crowd. No wonder his mother wanted him to know everyone, I thought. "It feels... nice."

"And you?" he asked, his tone quiet. "Your family back home must wonder where you are."