Tristran Thorn (
tristranthorn) wrote2008-01-07 05:17 pm
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[027] OOM - Meet the Parents
As every good traveler knows, there must be a destination for which to head towards - otherwise, there is aimless wandering which makes for wasted time, wasted resources, and a more or less miserable time.
But as any good observer knows, Tristran and Yvaine do not follow rules whatsoever.
So the two companions - still terribly (and pathetically) in love - are doing exactly what good travelers do not: they are wandering aimlessly, wasting time and resources. Whether they are having a miserable time remains to be seen, though it is unlikely that they are even able to follow that part of the rule, anyway.
"You know," Tristran starts thoughtfully, turning to glance at the star, "it has come to my attention that you haven't met my family yet."
Why this thought suddenly springs up in the young man's mind is a mystery, but now that it has taken precedence in the forefront of his thoughts, he believes it important not to let it go.
"Before we left, I told my father about you," he continues. "And I am positive that my mother - my other mother - and my sister want to meet you too. What do you think?"
But as any good observer knows, Tristran and Yvaine do not follow rules whatsoever.
So the two companions - still terribly (and pathetically) in love - are doing exactly what good travelers do not: they are wandering aimlessly, wasting time and resources. Whether they are having a miserable time remains to be seen, though it is unlikely that they are even able to follow that part of the rule, anyway.
"You know," Tristran starts thoughtfully, turning to glance at the star, "it has come to my attention that you haven't met my family yet."
Why this thought suddenly springs up in the young man's mind is a mystery, but now that it has taken precedence in the forefront of his thoughts, he believes it important not to let it go.
"Before we left, I told my father about you," he continues. "And I am positive that my mother - my other mother - and my sister want to meet you too. What do you think?"
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Really, now. No consideration for her future at all.
"They heard regardless of whether or not I answer the door, Louisa."
And answer the door he does, swinging it open easily (and with, admittedly, no regard whatsoever to his daughter's future courting) arms crossed and one eyebrow arced lazily.
"Ah," a slow smile spreads its way back across the man's lips. It is, he might admit, something of a surprise. "Back already, Tristran?"
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"Miss us that much, did you?"
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"Oh," she sighs. "It's just you."
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He steps into the house, taking in a breath. Everything is so familiar, it gives him a pang in his chest.
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The grin widens and her arms fold over her chest, moving forward, "And if you're feeling terribly misty, Tristran, I can call Mum in for you."
Dunstan tugs the end of her hair when she comes to a stop at his side.
"I'd tell you not to tease your brother, but I'd sound far too much like your mum."
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"I suppose that all of you have been doing well, then?" he asks, grinning.
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A shrug - he feels like a gossip, but it's mostly relevant, he supposes.
"Miss Forrester - well, no longer Miss Forrester, I suppose. Either way, as you may have overheard, the former Miss Forrester is married - and expecting, if I'm not mistaken."
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She glares pointedly.
"Even you have," a sudden noise, turning back to her father abruptly. "You let Tristran --"
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"And how is your girl, Tristran?"
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"Ah, that - actually, is why I am here," he says cheerfully, walking further into the house, peering at things as though he is looking at them for the first time.
"Where's mum? I'd like for her to be here too."
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"Are we getting married too? Am I allowed to get a new dress if we are? Oh - a fancy one, one with laces."
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Because he's certainly not doing it.
"Fine, fine," and she's off, down the hall - but not before leaning back into the room with a final. "Remember, Tristran - laces."
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"I am afraid it isn't such big news as that," Tristran says, turning back to his father with a slight shrug. "Big news, indeed, but none like marriage."
The thought sends a wave of heat to rise in his face, starting from his neck.
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No wedding means no new dresses - and new dresses means no reason to look astoundingly attractive in public. (Public where Bobby Robinson might be.)
"Though my poor wallet does thank you for the moment."
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Still, marriage. A wedding. It is certainly a daunting thought. He wonders how Yvaine might feel about that. It isn't particularly anything they've discussed in any detail whatsoever.
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A laugh, and he settles himself down into one of the chairs in the sitting room, very clearly amused.
"No need to be mentally planning a wedding on your sister's behalf."
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"Oh, no. No, no. Nothing like that," he says, going to join his father in one of the chairs opposite from him. "It is still a big step for me, though."
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And then the sound of footsteps once more and not-so-quietly whispering female voices. Or, a not-so-quietly whispering female voice, really.
"Dresses, mum. You would have to let me, you know. If there were, for instance. Not that there is, but I'm just saying."
The one that replies is just naturally quiet, "You'll have to talk to your father about that, dear."
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"Hullo, mum," he greets, rising to his feet.
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"Behave, Louisa."
Dunstan grins smugly from his seat.
"And you too, dear," she steps back enough to glance around Tristran's shoulder (and straighten his lapel). "Sometimes you are worse than the children."
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"Tristran has something to say - which, one might imagine, is important enough to drag him all the way back here."
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He feels a little nervous all of a sudden, though he knows he doesn't really have any reason to be.
(Though that pesky narration would once again object to that, considering there is a Yvaine waiting outside of the village for him and his family, and that - well, enough said.)
"Yes, well. It is just - as you know, I've...I've met someone," he starts, very decidedly avoiding Louisa's very focused gaze on him. "She is actually waiting right outside the wall, in fact. She...well, she cannot exactly come into the village, you see."
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Daisy's back straightens and her lips pull into a frown, one hand bracing itself upon her hip.
"Are they not letting the poor thing through?"
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"It is more that she ... she is ... not -" he pauses. "Not exactly..."
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