[023] OOM - The truth about his birth

[tristranthorn]

Tristran can vaguely remember the Seventh Magpie being so crowded -- it's happened only once before in his lifetime, and he had been very young then. When he makes his way back through the bar, he has to move carefully, weaving his way past people -- Wall-folk and other strangers alike -- eating (lambchops, bacon, mushrooms, fried eggs, black pudding) and drinking (ale, mead, lager) to reach the exit.

The conversation had gone strangely. Or - well. It went a lot more differently than he ever would have expected it to have gone. His original vision of this fateful day was as follows:
He would get himself back into Wall with a celestial rock in his pocket and find Victoria at her house. Or maybe in front of it (it didn't really matter so much, so long as she was there). He would bend down on one knee before her and reveal the star to her in a gallant fashion like some grand hero. And she would beam and giggle and smile at him. She would wrap her arms around him and he would kiss her and ask her to marry him and they would live happily ever after from then on.

Now, everything is different. Now not only is that dream far away, but it is nonexistent. And the very thought makes him unimaginably happier than he would have believed many months ago. Imagine being stuck here -- in some place where he really doesn't belong -- with Victoria, knowing she would never truly be happy with him. And he with her. He realizes now, quite clearly, that he really could never be happy with all of the things he once wanted. It was all a dream, an ideal his foolish mind had woven because he was young and infatuated and silly.

He is now a man, and he is a man in love. It just so happened to go all -- well, wrong (unplanned), and unexpected (a complete surprise) and ... strangely, he doesn't mind at all. His heart feels lighter.

He wants to tell her. He wants to shout it to the world --

"Tristran."

As he whirls around, his eyes land on a man far older than him rising as they meet eyes. He comes over to younger man and clasps him on the shoulder without speaking.

It is Tristran who breaks the silence. "Father," he says. "You -- you look good."

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[tristranthorn]

"What's this about, father?" Tristran asks confusedly, bending forward and watching his head (to avoid the slope of the roof) as he joins his father in the small and constricted space. "Why have you brought us here?"

He takes a seat opposite the older man before glancing around at what looks like some useless junk - a rather disappointing outcome of what he'd always believed to be the home of magical beings.

"I never thought I'd ever get to see this place, but I've got to admit, I'm a little let down," he remarks, jokingly.

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"It was better when you thought we were harboring fugitives, huh?" he replies, still grinning. "Or was it the time when you decided on dragons?"

It, unfortunately, remains dragon-free and relatively filled with a pile of junk no matter where one looks.

"I'm continuing the earlier topic of conversation, Tristran. As it is not something your mother particularly fancies discussing," he remarks dryly, then shrugs. "Unless you were done with it."

[tristranthorn]

He'd been a knight once, he remembers. Saving the fair princess from a gang of dragons who used to live up here. Louisa insisted on being the princess, though, so it wasn't very fun afterward.

Tristran shakes his head immediately after letting out a laugh at the memory.

"No," he says, sobering quickly, "no, go on."

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

It was mostly surprising enough that Louisa wanted to play - but she was often easily persuaded into things that allowed her to dress up in her mother's old things and flounce about commanding things. (So perhaps it wasn't that surprising, all things considered.)

His finger catches at the basket's handle and he swings it lightly, dumping it neatly into his son's lap.

"There," he states. "Hard to believe you were that small, but there you have it."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran looks down at the Moses-basket, frowning in confusion.

"What --"

The questions quickly filling up in his head (like water rising) are more than he can make sense of right now.

"You didn't pick me up at the riverbank, did you?"

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"You were delivered, actually," he returns. "Rather like groceries. Only a great deal noisier."

The blanket is soft, probably unusually so, and everything has been tucked inside with great care. They're important things - for a number of reasons.

"If there is anything you want to ask, you may. I hadn't really intended on keeping it a secret forever, it is just - well, you bloody well know how the people are here and -"

[tristranthorn]

Tristran nods, knowing full well how the people were in Wall.

"What did you tell mum?" He means, of course, the woman in the kitchen, efficiently clearing up the table and the dishes. "When I ... was delivered."

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"Um," he blinks, looking rather flustered, and for a moment it's very clear exactly how much he resembles his son. "Well, I didn't - we both didn't, really. Not for a while, at least. There were more than enough things to keep us occupied - what with you and then with Louisa so soon after and -"

He sighs, then leans back a bit before replying.

"Mostly I just think she knew."

[tristranthorn]

"Mum always sort of knew things, didn't she?" Tristran says, a slightly amused look on his face. "And I guess something as big as this..."

He supposes that sort of makes up a big part of why she'd always treated him so differently from his sister - possibly with a little more wariness.

Quietly, he looks down at the contents of the basket, fingers lightly touching the soft blanket. There are things beneath it, things that are likely of great importance in regard to his birth, and of course, his real mother. And admittedly, he's a little hesitant to reveal them.

"Do you still think about her a lot?"

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"Yes, of course," his lips quirk slightly, gaze far away for a moment. "They can steal your heart, you know. I don't even think you can help it."

It's not even that he doesn't love his wife, and of course he loves his children - the both of them - but he lost some part of himself, and he can't precisely say that he even minds having lost it.

[tristranthorn]

Tristran smiles, looking up to glance at his father, seeing that same look he's likely been sporting for a while now. He doesn't have to wish he could feel like that, to look like that.

"I think I know what you mean," he says, voice soft, fingers tightening slightly around the blanket.

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

That certainly gets his attention once more, brow arching and smile spreading in a certain knowing way that only parents can quite pull off.

"Perhaps you do," he replies, head tilting slightly and eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "I have a feeling we are no longer discussing Miss Forrester."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran's face grows warm at that. He wants desperately to change the subject again, but at the same time, he wants to tell his father.

He knows that if anyone will understand, it's his father.

Shaking his head, he lets go of the blanket, eyes darting back to it, then back to his father. "While I was out there, out of Wall, I ... well, I met someone."

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"I won't say 'Good.' as that is rather rude to young Miss Forrester," he begins and then grins again. "But, good nevertheless."

He settles back, looking rather entirely unsurprised. He's learned not to expect much of anything.

"And this ... someone?" he continues, waving a hand for emphasis. "Have you stolen theirs back then?"

[tristranthorn]

"I -" Tristran hesitates. "Well, I don't really know." He begins to frown.

"Well, she doesn't really hate me anymore," he starts, shrugging lightly. "But she really is magnificent. In every way."

He is smiling now.

"When I realized, it was like everything that was once completely shrouded in cloud became ... clear again."

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"Hate you?" he questions lightly, mostly to himself, and raises his eyebrows.

God only knows what one can get up to when out in Faerie for months - one imagines it's pretty impressive considering what one can get up to with only one day.

"Really now, if you look like that," he gestures, lips curling. "I don't think you have much to worry about."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran begins to grin. "You should meet her, father. I mean, I'm sure you'd like her. I'm sure she'd like you, too."

He pauses, hesitating to tell him everything. But his father had told him everything. He wants to tell the truth too. He wants him to know.

"She's -" Beat. "She's the star I found."

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"Of course I'd like her - you chose her, didn't you?"

He blinks and shakes his head - and while he may not be easily surprised by any stretch of the imagination, he is still merely human.

"The star?" he inquires, and then, for clarification. "Shining bit of metallic rock hovering far above the earth - well, not so much hovering since it (she then?) fell, but you understand. That star?"

[tristranthorn]

"Yes, that very one," he replies, still smiling.

"She's - well, she turned out not to be a hunk of solid metallic rock after all," he explains, his hand slowly going to the handle of the wicker basket. "I had initially expected one, but - she's a beautiful girl."

His hand moves again, slowly hovering over the blanket before he finds the courage to pull it aside. "I suspect I feel the same way about her that you did for mu - for my mum."

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"Ah, see. Then I know you have little to concern yourself with," he replies. "Love like that doesn't work just one way."

His eyes follow the careful motion, catch on how the words stumble over one another.

"I think you're worrying too much that your mother knows you're not hers," he states, simple and factual. "While she worries because you're not hers."

He leans forward, smiling at the fine scrawl of words across the worn piece of paper - Tristran Thorn - he nods.

"While I just know that they both would be proud of who you have grown to become. Any lady - or star, I am assuming - would be foolish not to agree."

[tristranthorn]

He picks out the letter, addressed to him, and begins to straighten it. The scrawl is smooth, flowing and feminine. It's the hand of his mother. His mother...

He looks up, however, at his father's comment (feeling such a rush of gratitude for the other man), suddenly unsure what to say. All his life he'd think his mother loved him less for some reason he could never fathom. And once he'd discovered his true birth, he thought he knew then, why she favoured his sister over him ...

Turning his attention back to the letter, he clears his throat.

"Dear Tristran," he begins to read.

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

Please know that I only wanted the best for you. Had my mistress allowed it, I would have kept you in a heartbeat. I hope that you will understand and forgive me. My dearest wish is that we will meet someday ...

He can almost hear her in his son's voice, and as Tristran continues reading he just smiles - because he can see her in him too.

That extra bit, that something else.

[tristranthorn]

"... and believe me darling when I say that I will think of you every day, for always ..."

He begins to roll the letter back up, slowly.

"Your mother."

His heart is pounding, and he has to swallow before he can speak. "The glass-flower you gave to me," he starts, and now he knows from whom his father had acquired it from, "it did bring me luck."

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

He's quiet for another few moments.

"It is good to know that it was useful as well as lovely then," he replies. "Well worth it, I am thinking."

Another smile, sudden and amused.

"I do think you should tell your sister that we are harboring fugitives up here."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran begins to laugh.

"I think I will," he says, once more grabbing the blanket from the basket.

"Do you mind if I take this with me?" he asks.