A Drink with an Old Friend

Brynjar was, regrettably, a bit lost. The island's layout had changed quite a bit from 20 years ago, and this Green Hat seemed to be a fairly new place too. Brynjar was using his smartphone to navigate, but he had never really mastered this kind of technology and kept accidentally re-routing or closing the app entirely. And Brynjar's large fingers did not help on the small screen.
Brynjar had expected this and had left early, but as he checked the time he noticed it was almost the time. Brynjar, who suspected he was close enough, put his phone away and started navigating through his nose, which picked scents up as well as a polar bear.
Brynjar did indeed find the distinct aroma of an English pub he had learned while visiting London. Scents of food and tobacco and stout guided Brynjar a couple of blocks ahead and he was able to succesfully find the pub. It seemed quite cozy from outside and Brynjat could guess it was even more on the inside.
Brynjar was wearing a flanel shirt with a black, red and forest green checkered pattern, dark blue jeans that looked a bit more presentable than the ones he had been wearing in the library and dark brown leather boots. An outsider could've mistaken Brynjar for a lumberjack, but Brynjar himself had no idee he had that distinct look. And was rocking it.
Brynjar stepped into the pub, trying not to attract too much attention. Naturally he did attract some, as he was quite large, but he stepped to the side and scanned the pub for Noel. As quickly as possible, because Brynjar didn't like being in the center of attention.
Thankfully Brynjar found Noel soon enough and made his way across the pub, quite awkwardly you could add. But Brynjar got there, and rubbed his neck a bit with slightly apologetic look before sitting down.
"I'm very sorry I'm late. I got slightly lost on the way here."
Brynjar nearly flinched a bit when a waitress appeared to take his order. Brynjar ordered the same thing Noel had. Where had the girl even come from?

@Zora

Brynjar absently swiped some hair strands away from his face by combing his hand through his hair, it was a habit of his, as he listened to Noel. Brynjar nodded and smiled slightly, agreeing with the man.
"In all honesty I wouldn't be surprised if the streets did have a life of their own. This island is strange."
Brynjar was slightly surprised Noel had gotten lost, as far as Brynjar knew the man had been on the island for a long time now.
"But I was able to find my way thanks to the scent this place gives off."

Brynjar was slightly surprised and flustered when Noel suddenly said he had been excited to get together with Brynjar and Brynjar felt the same strange twist in his stomach he had felt in the library. He shifted on his chair a bit and quickly wiped his hand, slightly damp, on his jeans.
"Um, I'm honoured you feel that way. This place was a good choice."
Brynjar looked around at the bustling bar and felt surprisingly comfy. He turned back to Noel and couple of strands fell on his face again.
"Although I think my old times are quite new times for you, the god you are."

Brynjar nodded at Noel's comment about a little town in England. At one point during his 20 years gone Brynjar had traveled all around Great Britain and Ireland, mostly by bike, and had seen many small towns and villages where the people welcomed you, a stranger, with open. It was always a peculiar experience for Brynjar, but such actions had always reminded him of Noel back then. How he emitted similar warmth and welcomed people near him. Brynjar suddenly felt embarrassed and cleared his throat, flustered by the fact that Brynjar had never once in 20 years forgotten about Noel. The man had made a lasting impact on him.
Brynjar's hint of a blush was hopefully hidden by the lighting in the pub.

Brynjar rubbed his neck a bit, embarrassed, when Noel called him philosophical.
"I-I'm nothing of the sort. I'm very bad with words."
And then Noel said Brynjar, his life and times, interested him and Brynjar looked surprised, his eyes widening just a bit. No one had ever said that to him. Brynjar's embarrassment was nowhere near going away and he looked down, still flustered. He looked for the right words for a minute before answering.
"You're too kind, really. There is nothing in me or my times to be interested in that you don't already know of."
A hint of sadness crept into Brynjar's tone and just when he didn't know what to do with his hands his stout was brought to the table. Brynjar gave the waitress a thank you and hugged his hands around the pint.

Brynjar did not drink from his own drink right away. He spun the pint a couple times in his hands and lifted it a bit, gently knocking it against the table once before Brynjar finally lifted it to his lips and took a sip. It was a ritual of some kind, a habit that was ingrained in Brynjar's memory and very core. He always blessed the first drink like this, no matter what. And after the first sip he smiled just the tiniest bit, his eyes filled with sorrow. As Noel denied Brynjar's bad capabilities with words Brynjar opened his mouth slightly just to close it again. Noel was very persistent, Brynjar had to admit that. But...
It wasn't a bad thing.

As Noel started listing things he didn't know about him Brynjar looked at the man with slight surprise in his expression, and he blinked once.
"You...want to know something like that?"
Brynjar didn't really know how to feel about that but he did feel...honoured that Noel wanted to get to know Brynjar. But at the same time the thought of sharing such information made Brynjar flustered and he repeated his nervous habit of swiping his hand through his hair.

"I...I listen to classical music. Chopin, and Vivaldi's Four Seasons are my personal favourites, the winter portion especially. I went on a cruise in the arctic sea 11 years ago, and I prefer boots."
Brynjar was pretty sure Noel hadn't meant for Brynjar to answer those specific questions right now but Brynjar didn't really know how else to answer. He was slightly confused, in that strange way that was becoming familiar to him. Brynjar avoided the question about favourite author, as his favourite author was...quite embarrassing.

Brynjar sipped some more of his drink, trying to hide his face briefly, as he was slowly becoming aware he was indeed blushing slightly. Brynjar blamed it on the stuffy air inside the pub, though it wasn't that stuffy yet. He set down his drink and took a small breath, glancing at Noel across him.
"I-I know it's insolent to say this, but...I would want to...know more about you...as well."
What was he saying??

Brynjar at the same time appreciated and was embarrassed by the fact that Noel seemed to listen to his words and interests so intently. Being in the spotlight made Brynjar nervous, but talking one on one with Noel surprisingly didn't make him so much so. On the contrary, on some level it calmed him.

Brynjar was very well aware it was somehow amusing that as a polar bear shifter he enjoyed the winter part of the four seasons. But when Noel pointed it out teasingly Brynjar cleared his throat a bit, embarrassed.
Brynjar nodded, when Noel mentioned Haydn was one of his personal favourites and a concerto from the composer also rose to Brynjar's mind, nearly making him smile.
"I agree. Somehow...Haydn's music suits you. The way it conveys the joy...of being alive."
Brynjar sipped his drink, getting used to the constant state of embarrassment he was in.

Brynjar remembered those times too, when there were no modern commodities, over a 1000 years ago. In fact, most of his active memories consisted of those times, and the rest...
Brynjar didn't allow himself to go there, not now. He nodded along with Noel and looked into the pub area as someone suddenly caused a bit of a ruckus. But it was over fast.
"This time was, is...slightly confusing for me. Everything is...larger. But there, surrounded by ice and silence I felt...peaceful."
Brynjar didn't know why he was sharing this but he could remember those moments, standing in the frozen wasteland, and feeling like his mind was in rest.

Brynjar was not surprised Noel was an ancient god. Not because the man was one of the very few gods that looked past 50, but because of the air about him. Brynjar couldn't explain it, but Noel had wisdom and kindness about him that crossed time. Brynjar smiled just a bit, yet another genuine smile that was void of sadness for the briefest moment.
"If you'll allow it, I'm willing..to hear about the small things that make you you. I can imagine worse ways to spend an eternity."