Athos had not previously met the girl who left the note announcing the party, and had been inclined to ignore it at first. But Tris is a dear friend - like a sister, nearly - and his commonplace misanthropy seems like a poor excuse to miss her party. In tribute (and as apology, in light of his behavior during his transformation of the previous month) he has brought a gift: a light, well-made main gauche that he thinks would serve her well. He would like to get her a proper sword eventually, but that will require a proper sword maker, and more knowledge than he yet has about what she would want in such a weapon. With her lithe grace, Tris has a the bones of a born master of the sword. The knife will have to do for now.

Though unsurprised to discover not an alcoholic drink in sight, Athos is, admittedly, rather disappointed. He is apt to drift towards the corners of the room, anyway, and it certainly makes it easier to hide the periodic swallows he takes from his flask. When he sees Tris, though, his whole posture softens and he smiles, for he does appreciate seeing her so relaxed and happy. After all, she has not always been so lucky.