[026] OOM - There's no place like home

[tristranthorn]

His shoulder and arm are - thankfully - healed completely at this point. It has been many weeks, but the help of pain medication, good stress-free rest, and delicious food helped splendidly in his recovery.

However, the time to return to Faerie draws near. On the one hand, Tristran is quite glad of it. It is their home, after all, and he is looking forward to really starting...well, things with Yvaine. But on the other, there is the ever-looming realization that he will soon have to inherit an entire kingdom and the responsibility of it all is somewhat staggering.

His shoulder is still a little stiff from the lack of use, but at least he is now able to do things with both of his arms. It is a very good feeling.

He glances over at Yvaine.

Now it is simply a matter of bringing up the whole ... going home thing - if she doesn't bring it up first.

Comments

[tristranthorn]

"Oh." He lets out a laugh. "Can't be doing that, now."

He pauses for a moment, looking especially thoughtful. "And which part did you forget?"

[an_evening_star]

She blinks, mildly stunned for a moment - now where did that come from? - before the grin widens a rather ridiculous amount.

"That depends on which parts you're interested in," she replies solemnly.

[tristranthorn]

"Well, what if I'm interested in all of you?" There's a bit of a glint in his eye.

"Like...your arms," he says, leaning down to kiss the length of them lightly. "Or your neck, perhaps." Kisses are placed there, too.

[an_evening_star]

Well. Well - oh.

Consider her irredeemably distracted.

"Remember those again," she manages, eyes closed and fingers tangling into the covers. (Forget that whole 'neatly made' nonsense.) "Very - helpful of you."

[tristranthorn]

He kisses her stomach, now - suddenly (and perhaps uncharacteristically) thinking that the fabric of her dress is a rather annoying thing. It is sort of getting in the way of...

"I'm glad," he says, innocently enough. "It wouldn't do to forget them, after all."

[an_evening_star]

"Not funny," she replies, very nearly stubborn once more, propped up on shaky elbows. This is Tristran we're talking about here - who abducted his morals? "You shouldn't -"

She sucks in a ragged breath and then shudders a startled, dazed laugh back out again - hands are, eyes are, lips are - and remembering to keep breathing is suddenly far more important than remembering which bits of her would very much like to demand attention next.

All of them, she would like to suggest. (She shivers instead.)

Horrid cheat.

"And if I forget my name?" she whispers, skin bright as she taps a pattern up the side of his neck. "Know how to get that one back?"

[tristranthorn]

"I'm sure I will think of something," he replies, his voice a low hum against her skin, "when the time comes."

Admittedly, his shoulder is beginning to ache - confounded thing - and after another moment of unmistakable tension, he breaks off contact to straighten himself, shifting so he is a little more comfortably settled on their bed.

[an_evening_star]

"Tristran," she scolds (once she's caught her breath, of course), voice lowering mildly and lips pulling into a slight frown - shifting enough to pull herself up over him and bracing herself on her hands. "Shouldn't be doing that if you are still hurt."

Her stern-face isn't quite up to snuff, but it's making a rather valiant effort.

"Not to say that I do not appreciate the sudden attention, of course."

And does she ever.

"Just," she drops a quick kiss onto his nose, only to flick it in reprimand a moment later. "When you are better, yes?"

[tristranthorn]

He winces just a smidgen before rolling his shoulder - yes, still sore, indeed.

He gives her an apologetic smile.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," he says with a slightly dramatic sigh - just for effect.

[an_evening_star]

"I'm always right," she corrects - snatching another quick kiss before she sits up, legs tossed carelessly over his lap.

"I'll pack, I suppose - you, on the other hand, will lie there like properly recovering royalty. I'd give you a bell to ring, but I do not think that I would put up with that for very long."

Or at all. (Either way.)

"Revel in my temporary domesticity, dear," she drawls, sliding off the edge of the bed and uselessly straightening his collar. "You can never be certain if it will be coming back."

[tristranthorn]

He is about to get up, but reveling in Yvaine's temporary domesticity sounds mighty tempting, especially considering the sudden pang in his arm from the tension he'd been putting on it is starting to ache a little more by the minute.

"Well, all right - if you say so," he says finally, letting himself relax. "Thank you, Yvaine."

[an_evening_star]

"You're just terribly fortunate that I'm in love with you enough to putter around like a pastry-wife," she chimes.

The back of her neck heats briefly (Wife - honestly now, Yvaine!) and she turns quickly, deftly twisting her hair back up and scooping a stack of clothing from the foot of the bed.

See! She knew that there was a system somewhere.

[tristranthorn]

He grins as he lays back against the pillows - feeling pleasantly lazy - and watches her as she moves around the room, picking things up and returning things to their rightful spots.

Honestly, the mention of 'wife' makes something in his chest pound - but only for a moment. He could actually see it happen one day. (Perhaps not the pastry part, though.)

[an_evening_star]

The only pastries that will be allowed in any possible marriage-like situation will be the tasty, sugar-filled, dessert-type ones. She has good sense, thank you very much.

(Or at least something that occasionally resembles it.)

And things like packing are surprisingly easy when you're fixating on not turning interesting colors or analyzing the way that your mouth just seems to enjoy talking without your express permission.

[tristranthorn]

Time passes quickly within the next few moments. Tristran manages to sit up and not act so incredibly lazy. The pain in his shoulder is more or less manageable now, though he'll have to take care not to strain it again in the near future.

He's even managed to put his socks and boots on, grabbed his coat from the closet - and it's fixed, too; he doesn't remember that - and help Yvaine with the last bit of room-cleaning.

He returns to sit at the edge of the bed while he waits for his star.

[an_evening_star]

This on, that away, and that into the bag which is slung easily over her shoulder - drawer closed, light off, and hair spun up (Aha!) with a real pin this time.

She leans against the wall near the door - tilting her head and watching him with a slow, lazy smile.

He's an extraordinarily nice thing to look at, her moron.

[tristranthorn]

"Ready, then?" he asks, tilting his head to the side as he gives her an intrigued smile of his own.

He straightens and moves towards her.

[an_evening_star]

"Very much so," she brightens visibly - one set of fingers already wandering in the direction of the doorknob, while the other one snatches his when he's close enough.

"Are you ready, dear?"

[tristranthorn]

He nods.

"Let's go," he says, allowing her to lead the way. He glances back briefly behind his shoulder at their empty room.

It looks a lot neater and less lived in than it ever has been, but he isn't too worried about that. They'll be back soon enough. He knows that.

Right now, home needs them more.