[005] Before the summer, there is the spring

[tristranthorn]

"Well, I really think we ought to be moving along once more," Tristran says as he begins to pick up the mess of things left in their room -- socks, dirty plates, cups, and other things of the sort. "We've been staying here for far too long."

He's been dreaming of home lately. As soon as he regained the ability to breathe properly and move about as energetically as he used to, he's been feeling restless for the journey ahead of him.
At first he didn't think much of these dreams, but soon he was dreaming of Victoria again, and of the day he returned to her -- with the star.

A sock hangs off the end of their bed, and he scoops it up, turning to Yvaine with a slightly serious expression on his face. "And we haven't had the chance to check on the unicorn either," he adds. Perhaps if he appeals to Yvaine's fondness for the unicorn, she will be more likely to cooperate with him. "I'm sure he must be eager to move around in Faerie once more."

Now, he manages a slight smile of a sort as though to say, 'Hmm?'

Comments

[tristranthorn]

Well...

Tristran's smile widens a bit. They've reached the halfway point now. Only another ten or so steps to go.

"I wouldn't mind," he responds automatically, before catching himself. His little blip causes him to tighten his hold around her waist only slightly. "I mean -- that way, we'd get to our destination quicker, I imagine."

[an_evening_star]

The star pauses for another awkward second, breath caught in her throat and eyes wide.

Oh, then.

"We would also be a great deal more tangled," she returns automatically before she remembers to blink, cheeks bright enough to glow, and she hastily adds. "Possibly broken as well."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran makes a 'hmm-ing' sort of sound as they finally finish climbing down the staircase with great effort and enter the bar proper. Luckily he's better now, or he would never have been able to do any of this without falling over, or hacking up a lung.

"Are you all right to use your crutch, now?" he asks, arm slowly withdrawing. The Y-shaped crutch is in his other hand.

[an_evening_star]

"Of course - it is not so terribly difficult here."

She can, after all, take care of herself. She took care of him just fine.

The star holds out her hand expectantly, eyes skittering quickly over their door and past the people milling about, other arm wrapping around her stomach as if to balance out the absence.

[tristranthorn]

"You're right," he says as he passes the crutch to her, still carefully watching in case she does need help.

He knows well enough about Yvaine's pride, after all. Living with her has certainly taught him a lot.

"Would you like to take a little walk around the lake, first?"

[an_evening_star]

Yvaine flashes a grin, the crooked sort that implies 'I always am.'

She is, it might be noted, perfectly self-sufficient and doesn't need him to be saving her like some useless pastry-damsel in distress. (Except for when she does - but seeing as 'when' isn't right now, such things can be ignored in favor of continued self-reliance.)

"It sounds pleasant enough, I suppose."

[tristranthorn]

Of course she's always right.

Tristran would never argue with that (it would only force him to face her more discontent side, the one that calls him moron, and throws things at him). So, instead he makes his way to the back-door, only a couple steps ahead of Yvaine, and holds it open for her -- as a gentleman would -- while he waits.

[an_evening_star]

She's been rather entirely well-behaved as of late - name-calling has been sparing and she hasn't tossed anything in his direction in quite some time.

Though this could very well be an exercise in lulling him into a false sense of security - if the smile wasn't quite so genuine. It is, perhaps, more a matter of him learning how to properly placate cranky stars. (Which is surprisingly simple once you get the hang of it.)

She bows her head politely - a lazy sort of curtsy - and peers outside curiously, "Well then, it seems we have slept through an entire season."

[tristranthorn]

He turns his head for a moment, then nods.

"So we have," he agrees.

Can he help being reminded of home and the passing time? No. Even if Milliways is quite comfortable in comparison to the wilderness of Faerie, he's a determined young fellow, and there is a quest to finish.

Turning back to the star, he smiles, offering her his hand, quelling these thoughts -- at least for the moment. He promised Yvaine the time to stretch her legs, and so he will give it to her. "Shall we?"

[an_evening_star]

They'll get there - Yvaine can't particularly ignore the call of home either, as far away and impossible as it is. It's lovely here, but the skies aren't the same.

She rolls her eyes with a mild grin, "We shall."

It's warmer now - far more pleasant - and she accepts his hand gratefully, though she doesn't precisely need to lean quite so much anymore.

"How many sisters do you have?"

It isn't a question of whether one has sisters - people obviously have sisters - it's just a matter of degree.

[tristranthorn]

Oh, of course. Luckily for Yvaine, Tristran does have a sister.

"One," he replies, helping her down the step -- crutch and all -- and to the outside grounds. There is a soft breeze that floats past them, clearly smelling and feeling of spring.

"Her name is Louisa." It is through her that he met Victoria, after all. But he isn't going to say that aloud.

[an_evening_star]

Very good - the state of tranquility is maintained, and nothing gets ceremoniously tossed in any direction.

She breathes deeply, chin tilting back again. It's warm enough that his fingers won't freeze and their words don't fog, but the sun isn't harsh enough to make her skin prickle unpleasantly.

"Only one?" she asks, eyebrows furrowing almost incredulously. "It must be significantly easier to get time by yourself, I would imagine."

A pause and her nose wrinkles, "Though there are less options to blame things on as well."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran lets out a soft chuckle. "I suppose," he says, "but my sister and I got along for the most part anyway. She would often go off with her friends, and I --"

...Well, he didn't exactly have many friends in Wall, did he? Always the 'odd one out', always the slightly strange boy with a curious way about him.

"Well, I worked quite a bit. So I suppose we did have a substantial amount of time to ourselves outside of the house."

[an_evening_star]

Yvaine doesn't have friends, she has sisters. Sisters who are morally obligated to be your friend and really don't have a choice as to whether or not they want to deal with you.

And him. She has him, she supposes. Though there isn't a great deal of choice involved in that relationship either.

"You are telling me that you didn't get into the least bit of trouble when you were younger?" she quirks a curious eyebrow - Yvaine was a horrible little sister.

[tristranthorn]

"Louisa caused most of the trouble within the house," he says with a slightly amused shrug. This is not to say he didn't get into trouble, however.

There was the one time he'd fallen out of an apple tree by Victoria's window and broken his arm.

Leading her towards the lake with careful steps (after all, the terrain here isn't spectacularly flat), he continues. "When I was eight, I had told her the clouds looked like sheep. She laughed at me and had everyone at school make fun of me for thinking such." He shrugs. "I was eight. Children think that way. I wouldn't say something like that now."

[an_evening_star]

"Why not?" she inquires, hobbling carefully. "I happen to think that your sister was just looking wrong."

If there are shapes in stars, she doesn't find any reason for there not to be shapes in clouds. Imagination hardly hurt anyone - especially where she is from.

"I would not say sheep, however - possibly feathers," her chin tilts primly, eyes narrowing in contemplation. "That one rather resembles a dragon - though people say that they have not been seen for years."

[tristranthorn]

He tilts his head back up to stare at the sky for a moment, an almost grateful smile crossing his features.

Oh, if only eight-year-old Tristran had known Yvaine back then. He would have possibly been spared quite a bit of laughter from Louisa's classmates -- and his own, for that matter if so.

"I suppose my telling her we went to a... tavern at the end of the universe would send her into fits of uncontrollable laughter." He smirks. "Or she'll simply say I've gone completely mad."

[an_evening_star]

She would have taken care of it - for a given, and possibly great deal more violent, meaning of 'taken care.' And he probably wouldn't have constantly told her to stand up straight and that her hair was a mess, her dress was an utter disgrace, and she really shouldn't know such words, let alone use them while in polite company.

"Who's to say that you haven't?" she grins back, arcing one delicate brow. "You are discussing clouds with a star, Tristran Thorn."

[tristranthorn]

He laughs, now. And while the reasons for his next words don't make much sense to him yet, he means them.

"Well, if I've gone mad, then I wholly welcome it."

They've reached the lake.

[an_evening_star]

Her stomach flutters and she slows for a moment, tilting her head at their reflection and bracing her fingers over her chest - forcefully quelling the need to snap something unpleasant in defense.

This was all a great deal easier when she hated him. He couldn't just continue being obnoxious?

She almost would have appreciated it.

"You have certainly taken to it - madness or not."

[tristranthorn]

"It isn't an unpleasant thing," he replies, crouching down for a moment to pick up a loose pebble from the ground.

"Sometimes I thought that some of the so-called 'sane' folk of Wall could do with a bit of...something out of the ordinary once in a while." Or imagination.

He flicks the pebble in the lake's direction, not particularly getting the effect he was going for. It skips once, then sinks rather embarrassingly into the water.

[an_evening_star]

Yvaine happens to think that 'sane' is another, far more diplomatic, word for 'terribly boring.'

"It is a wonder you survived at all," given what he is he must have felt terribly suffocated - the very idea of it makes her shiver. A place where magic only dares to come close every few years.

"You are tilting your wrist too far down," she murmurs absently, watching the ripples with a vague sort of interest.

[tristranthorn]

Blinking, he looks down at his wrist, then turns to her.

Tristran doesn't really know yet how different he is from the people in Wall. Sure, he has a feeling, but that's all it is. To him, at this moment in time, Wall was -- and always will be -- his home.

Another nervous laugh, and he stoops once more to pick up a slightly smaller pebble.

[an_evening_star]

It's not so much an issue of home, at least not in this context. It's that difference - it's a wonder that it is still there, that it is still loud enough that she can even notice it.

She shakes her head again, tapping the back of his hand dismissively.

"No, something flatter," another pause and she searches the ground, gesturing vaguely and then carefully pointing once she remembers that she's not going to be able to get it herself. "That one - and keep your wrist straight this time."

Her lips quirk again, challenging.

[tristranthorn]

However, for Tristran whose experience in the outside world is almost slim to none (though he is learning), home means he ought to belong there, no matter how awkward and different he may feel while there.

His head turns in the direction she points at, then taking a couple steps, picks up the rock, the chain between them stretching a little.

"This one?" He returns to join her. "Where did you learn to skip pebbles?"