Tristan has always been scared of the dark.
It's a fear he's never been able to shake ever since he was little. Not being able to see what surrounds him, not being able to anticipate what would come next---it terrified him to no end.
Arthur Pendragon must be aware of this, as wherever Tristan is being held now is as black as night with no entrance or exit in sight.
His hands and legs have been wrapped in chains that obviously nullify his magic, his goddess wings have been strung to the floor, open and unable to move. He's on the stone concrete floor below, unable to muster the strength to lift any part of his body as they're weighed down so heavily. He keeps his eyes closed, attempting to focus on his breathing so he doesn't have to open his eyes to darkness.
He doesn't know how long he's been here, doesn't wish to know. He just wants to go /home/.
Suddenly, after what felt like hours, the door, entrance, opens wide.
Tristan's eyes snap open and they adjust to the light now spilling into the endlessly dark cavern that is this dungeon, and when they do, their he finds the man behind it all.
Arthur Pendragon smiles at him sweetly, head titling.
"Are you comfortable?" He asks. "Little prince?"
Tristan glares at him and his fists clench behind him. He doesn't say anything, choosing to keep his last remnants of dignity that he can muster to keep to himself.
The false king grins wider. "Shy now, are we?" He chuckles. "A shame. You were quite mouthy last time we met."
"I'm gonna kill you," Tristan suddenly seethes and Arthur laughs.
"There it is!" He cheers and claps. "Such /rage/. You look just like your father when you glare at me like that," He chuckles again and sighs. "I don't know why everyone says you look like your whore mother, Elizabeth---to me, you are a carbon copy of your monstrous father and all his demon kin."
At the mention of his sweet mother, Tristan /snarls/. "/Don't speak her name, bastard/!" He screams as he shakes with rage. "Else I'll rip your fucking tongue from your /throat/!"
Arthur just scoffs. "I will admit, you're either quite brave or quite /foolish/ to insult me when you're in the position you're in now," He says nonchalantly. "All alone, away from home. You poor thing, you must be so scared."
Tristan wants to claw the bastard's eyes out, rip out his vocal cords and shove them down his throat until he chokes and dies.
He's never felt such rage before---a wrath taking over him like nothing ever has.
"Well," Arthur sighs with a devilish grin as he turns around and away from him with a wave of his hand. "I hope you enjoy your stay here, little prince, because you're going to be here for a /while/, I'd wager. Who knows, maybe you'll even come to like it here? Perhaps you will one day come to lick my boot---"
Tristan doesn't even realize he's able to move until he's near inches away from Arthur's face.
Chains stops him, tugging him back and away from the bastard.
Tristan cries out as he nearly loses his footing and pain floods his senses as the brackets around his wrists and ankles nearly pull his skin off. His goddess wings attempt to flap uselessly and he nearly /screams/ in frustration.
Arthur rears back, obviously not expecting Tristan to be able to move with the magic wards and drugs in his system flooding his senses to make him dizzy and drowsy.
Tristan tries to get as close as possible, shrieking in rage as he can't get any closer and Arthur stares at him in complete disbelief before he begins to laugh, as though he were in shock and awe.
"Wow!" He gasps. "I shouldn't have expected any less! The fact that you're able to get past my wards at all is---"
Blood spills from a cut on his cheek and the God of Chaos stumbles.
Tristan pants for air and his one /freed/ wing floats beside him, feathers sharpened to the same sharpness of steel /blades/.
Arthur is stunned into silence.
"/I/ am Tristan Liones," He begins, gasping as he stands up as tall as he can. He can feel his magic flowing through him, as little as the wards allow. "I am the son of Meliodas and Elizabeth Liones, the Crown Prince of Britannia, the Four Knights of the Apocalypse of Pestilence, and, when I escape from here, I will take your /head/."
The only sound that can be heard is Tristan's gasps for air and the sound of chains rattling and Arthur's lips part as their eyes remained locked.
After several moments of silence, Arthur just smiles again, tiny scar and droplet of blood gone as he heals himself.
"I look forward to your meager attempts, sweet prince," Is all he says before he turns around and leaves the dungeon before he shuts the door.
Thus, encasing Tristan in a darkness that will now, unfortunately, become his home for a long, /long/ time.
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