"I am Sir Tristan, Knight of Cornwall," she replied, "We have met before, your highness. I am one of your mother's knights. How fare you this evening, my king?"

[i]Ah...[/i] thought Gawain suppressing a smile, [i]If only we could have met under different circumstances, you and I[/i]. His gaze fell upon the king as he slowly got out of his chair, a wolf uncoiling. He had tensed the moment he saw Mordred coming over. The server, knowing who Gawain was and sensing the mood, took that opportune moment to quietly withdraw, disappearing behind the growing mountain of flesh. 

"Sir Tristan," He said bowing to the knight first, "King Mordred" Slight emphasis on 'king' and a hesitation before the formal title was a not so subtle slap to the face, and in court he would have never attempted it. Here, where there was music, laughter, and drink to cover any [i]discrepancies[/i], he was a little more bold. "No trouble, the seas were calm and we had the wind to our stern. Though, my father was not able to make it, as you I'm sure know. It is my brother Agravain, the heir to our father King Lot, who you must mean. He made the trip in the stead of our father." He said this while keeping an eye on both Mordred and Sir Tristan. 

He was more interested in a fellow knight than in Mordred, anyway. The enemy king almost never lead forces on him in battle. None that were nearly as successful as some of the engagements Sir Tristan were a part of. He did indeed remember her, now that her name was given. Her forces had come from the flank during a battle turned messy. He remembered seeing her once as his brother had called the final retreat. He had fought long and hard to cut his way out, trying to spare as many of his men as he could.[i]Different circumstances indeed...[/i], he thought with a soft sigh. [i]Damn you, you wretched man...[/i]