It's been a while since Merlin was in Milliways, but that doesn't stop a politely worded napkin request once he's made it to the counter. One he finds agreeable. Bar is kind enough to produce a book of drinks, and after skimming through it, he dutifully marks them up on the board.
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"I would try one of those drinks, but not one with vodka in it."
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"I will drink that, then," he says.
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It doesn't take long to gather the somewhat colorful ingredients, mix, shake and pour the finished product into a glass for the sombre goth. He's kind enough to resist putting a tiny umbrella in.
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A tiny umbrella would, indeed, not be a good idea. It would engender Gothy sarcasm, most likely ending on the words '... not invented in my time!'
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Merlin would probably say something like time is relative.
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Oh, Merlin has no idea how relative time has become for Teja: - he has a house in 2009, and a lover from 2059. Still, he can be stubbornly conservative at times.
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"Good deal."
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Teja sips his drink. "So you got used to this place, did you, and no longer think that tricks are being played upon you?"
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"Something like that. The fantastic is seen in a completely mundane light here." Which is nice for him.
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"It is," Teja says. "After one has spoken to a dragon, visited worlds of the future, and been a cat, nothing can be very strange any more."
Except, maybe, little umbrellas in drinks.
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"That's true. Is there a dragon here?"
Little umbrellas and miniature weapons.
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"There is," Teja says. "His name is Kédra. We have made music together: he sang in his dragon way, and I played my harp."
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"Must sound pretty cool."
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Pause.
"It was quite some time ago; but I have seen him again, upon occasion."
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Beat.
"Be amazing, I mean."
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