[029] OOM - IV of VII - The plot, as always, must thicken

[tristranthorn]

It isn't very long (by normal standards, anyway) until the vultures return to the brig where Tristran and Yvaine are kept in captivity.

To Tristran, however, it feels as though he's been here in the same bloody position (his legs and arms aching, his nose itchy, his wrists stinging) for nearly three decades.

Conversation was made between the star and the half-faerie man, but even that became a little tiring when each Escape Plan was very soon promptly vetoed by the other. Not to mention, as the hours passed, so did the quality of their plans.

Generally workable, smart and clever plans soon filtered off into a series of silly, amusing 'What If' situations.

Take, for example:

"What if a flying pig crashed into the side of the ship wearing horse-shoes with blades underneath them that could cut through our ropes?"

"Why a pig?" asks Yvaine.

Which only garnered the answer from Tristran: "Because after the pig freed us, we could eat it. I'm starving."

And that only got the roll of eyes from the star.

Typical.

Comments

[an_evening_star]

The star is slumped in a decidedly unladylike manner, the wary edge worn off after the first few hours of utter nothing.

It would, in fact, almost be a relaxing sort of break if she wasn't currently aching in places that she hadn't previously realized even existed.

"If you are going to be like that dear, we might as well be rescued by blueberry pie."

Sadly, this is a step up from some of their other plans.

"It is just about as plausible and we would not have to kill it," she points out, speech pausing abruptly and back straightening as something moves outside the door.

[tristranthorn]

"Yes, see, that's actually not a bad idea," he says in reply, even after Yvaine stops speaking abruptly.

It takes him a little longer to realize that there is something wrong here - Yvaine's back is stiffened and if he turns his head slightly, there truly are shadows moving beneath the crack of their door.

"You don't think," he starts, voice low, "it's them come to kill us, do you?"

Because that would make all the effort gone into their plans moot.

[an_evening_star]

Isn't he supposed to be the hopeful and idealistic one in this relationship?

Yvaine turns her own head, giving him the best skeptic glance that she can manage in the given position.

(It is not, it may be noted, terribly impressive.)

"I am thinking that would defeat the purpose of whatever they have been keeping us alive for, dear," she points out helpfully, if not with a great deal more optimism.

[tristranthorn]

He shrugs within his bindings, letting out a breath.

"Perhaps they've had enough of keeping us alive," he mumbles. "They might have found some greater thing to barter."

Aww, Tristran. Y SO PESSIMISTIC?

[an_evening_star]

Cheer up, emo kid!

"What else would one have to barter?"

They kind of have the best bargaining chip tied up at the moment.

"You are the future King of Stormhold," she points out, voice quiet and eyes trained on the space between the door. "In case you have forgotten."

[tristranthorn]

"Yes, but - I don't know," Tristran says exasperatedly, shaking his head.

Really, he doesn't.

"Perhaps they've found something...else. I don't know what it could be, but that would be because I don't have the mind of a criminal."

He turns to glance back at the door as well. The motion seems to have paused - momentarily.

[an_evening_star]

"Well, dear, the only other option is selling my organs - which, might I note, is a rather pointless endeavor at this point - so, you're pretty much it as far as bargaining pieces go."

A mild snort, gaze rolling vaguely skyward. Or ceilingward, as the case may be.

"Especially when it comes you your Mother."

[tristranthorn]

He lets out a breath. She's right - of course she is right. But that doesn't exactly take care of one of his greatest worries.

"What about you, then? Surely, we would come in a sort of - I don't know, package deal." Or something.

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

As if on cue, there is the sudden sound of a fumbling with locks.

Something wicked this way comes.

[an_evening_star]

Ah, yes. Marvelous.

"Love you dear," she tosses behind her with uncharacteristic tenderness (There are, she supposes, moments for it.) before squaring her shoulders, lips curling into a showy smirk.

The door rattles.

"Well," her voice rises in volume, slipping back into its usual sarcastic drawl. "Are you joining us or what?"

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

A set of three vultures step into the brig, the one in the middle taking the lead.

"Always so polite," he says in his own drawl. "The Lady is always so very polite, ain't she?"

He grins maliciously before glancing over both his shoulders. Then he gives a brief nod and the other two step up. They are far bigger and stronger than one might expect, and as they begin to loosen the star's bindings (making sure she does not move very much in the process), it is not yet clear what they have planned for her.

[tristranthorn]

Tristran isn't sure what happens, but from one quiet second to the next, he is struggling to break free from his own bindings, the ropes cutting sharply into his skin and flesh.

"What are you doing?" he demands, sounding a little more frantic than he means to be. "Where are you taking her? Let her go!"

The vultures, of course, ignore him. He isn't going to be of direct use to them yet.

"Yvaine!"

[an_evening_star]

Oh, definitely.

She's renowned for her people-skills, this one.

"Thank you kindly," she continues, voice fairly dripping with painted-on politeness now. (Merely to be contrary - and to cover for the panicked flare that passes along her skin.) "But I can very well walk on my own, gentlemen."

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"Sure ya' can, Lady," one voice pipes in - quickly joined by another, who adds, "Just bein' helpful, we are."

Taloned fingers remain tight around the star's wrists, keeping her neatly immobilized.

"Boss just has some questions, is all."

[tristranthorn]

Questions? What sorts of questions would they possibly have for the star that he cannot be present?

He continues to struggle against the ropes until one of the vultures smacks him hard across the face.

"Enough o'that."

Then everything goes black.

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

The others laugh.

"Well, that's one way of taking care of the squirming about," one of them says, still chuckling.

"Y'ought t'teach your boy here about politeness," the other says to Yvaine, grinning widely.

[an_evening_star]

"You -" her eyes narrow, one elbow snapping back harshly into the stomach of one of her captors. "Do not touch him."

The accompanying whoosh of air nearly makes her grin.

Nearly, though, since she's hardly pleased.

"You will unhand me and we will talk like civilized people."

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"People," the unelbowed guard laughs mildly before being interrupted by the vulture standing nearest to Tristran.

His head cocks clear to one side.

"And what gives us reason to trust you, yeah?"

[an_evening_star]

The smile lazily makes its way across her face now - wide and utterly false - voice overly saccharine, "And just where the bloody fuck am I going to run off to?"

A beat.

Dryly, "Sir."

[tristranthorn]

There is laughter amidst the sudden thundering of blood in his ears as he comes to.

And by the gods and stars above, his head hurts. He doesn't move, head lolling down towards his chest, eyes closed. He doesn't think he can right now.

(And it's best not to catch eyes of their kidnappers while he thinks of some way to get out of this mess.)

His hair is in his face and the ropes are starting to call attention to his pain once more.

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

The three of them chortle, half-laughing, half-squawking.

"All right," one of them says. "If you want t'know the truth, we could very well let y'walk on your own -"

"- but that ain't as fun," the one closest to the star finishes, grinning once more.

"So shut your yap. The boss is expectin' us on the deck. Wouldn't want to make him wonder what's takin' so long."

They certainly aren't putting the man in 'manhandle', with their feathery wings fluffing about and beaks formed into strange grins.

[an_evening_star]

"I'm afraid that I've always been bad at keeping my mouth shut when I am supposed you," she replies. "You'll forgive me, of course."

Her yap, unfortunately, has no plans of closing anytime soon.

"And though I would hate to ruin your fun, I would very much like to say goodbye to my -" she's almost surprised that she doesn't stumble over the word. "Husband, if that is all the same to you."

Well, she reasons, they did say it first.

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"Now, that ain't all that true, ya'know," one responds, almost conversationally.

"We did some thinkin'," comes a tug at the star's wrist, before the one at her shoulder adds. "We'd of heard about a royal wedding, we were thinkin'."

A chuckle.

"Might'a even been invited."

[an_evening_star]

Her shoulders straighten, lips twitching irritatedly.

"And what difference does that make to you?"

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"Means you ain't got a claim of your own," one grins and feathers fan along the stars shoulders as he leans in closer. "Frees you up for other dealings."

[an_evening_star]

"Ah," she breathes. "Isn't that lovely."

Just splendid, even.

Her chin tilts haughtily, "Well, my request still stands all the same."

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

The vulture closest to Tristran hastily grabs at his hair, forcing his head upwards.

"All right. Go ahead then, yeah? Say what you gotta say."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran's eyes remain closed as part of the whole 'Play Dead' plan he has been quickly improvising in his head.

But ow.

He hardly thinks these bloody birds have to tug on his hair so tightly.

[an_evening_star]

She swallows the displeased hiss and does her best to sound convincing and not at all murderous, "You will turn around, yes?"

Yvaine thinks - in some far-off and often neglected corner of her mind - that, perhaps, sometime in the future, she should try to act more like a lady if she wishes to be treated as one.

This, however, is not that sometime.

"After all," she adds, and the metal of the knife is heavy between her breasts. "It will hardly take a moment and is only polite."

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

The lot of them roll their eyes before they let go of her with an unnecessarily harsh shove.

"Try anythin' funny, and we'll just have to tell the boss you died of fright."

"Couldn't answer questions 'cause you died of fright!" one of them repeats, laughing.

"Can't we do that anyway?"

They don't exactly turn around, but they do wait by the door, cackling amongst themselves, congratulating them on their jokes.

[tristranthorn]

At least they have let go of his scalp.

He lets his head loll limply once more, but his eyes are open now, and they stealthily take in the situation.

[an_evening_star]

Okay, so she's going to have to be careful about this.

And quick.

And - and, okay, seeing if he's okay is entirely more important. She can think while checking.

She kneels carefully, voice quiet and fingers bracing lightly atop his legs, tracing soothing circles, "Hello, dear."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran, beneath the now dried blood, sweat and grime and general dislike for this situation, manages to smile a bit at the sound of her voice.

"Yvaine," he murmurs, his own voice especially low. "Don't let them take you."

[an_evening_star]

"I do not think that is going to be negotiable," she laughs, one set of fingers reaching up to gingerly sweep one bloody temple.

She's pretty certain that she's just about exhausted their patience for her as it is.

Quietly, "You are going to have to tell me when they aren't looking."

[tristranthorn]

Very slowly and very carefully, he turns his gaze upwards to look at her, slightly questioning.

If Yvaine has a plan, he's all for it. It would certainly beat any non!plan he has.

He shifts his glance towards the door where the three vultures seem to be occupied, making further quips about killing the star 'by accident'.

"They're occupied," he tells her anxiously.

[an_evening_star]

"Good."

The star swallows, breathes out another (slightly tremulous) laugh, and leans forward - further into his space - as one hand makes a careful path upward.

"You going to give me that kiss you owe me now?"

Her fingers catch at the hilt of her dagger, pausing for a (heartbeat) moment before tugging it out and slipping it behind his back in one quick (not nervous, not shaking) motion.

[tristranthorn]

His fingers grasp the hilt of Yvaine's dagger as soon as she manages to get it to him at about the same time his eyes widen very briefly.

Because, whoa. Well played, Yvaine. Well played.

"I'd make some terribly ill-humoured joke about bondage, but it hardly seems the time," he says wryly, tilting his head to be at level with hers.

Then, his lips find hers and with everything he could express into the kiss, he does.

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

Okay.

We're getting kind of bored over here.

"A'right already," a voice calls out harshly, a set of footsteps making its way over. "Thinkin' we're just about out of time now, Lady."

[an_evening_star]

Yeah, yeah - we're coming.

"See you later, Prince Charming," she grins against his lips, as a hand curls around her shoulder. "Don't miss me too much."

[tristranthorn]

He manages to hide the dagger behind his hands rather well as the vultures approach to take the star away.

He nods, even managing a smile for her while his heart thunders loudly. His blood runs cold with the fear of leaving her in the hands (or wings - or whatever it is) of their kidnappers.

"If anything happens to her -" he threatens, looking straight at the gathered birds, but whatever he might have said is promptly cut off with another blow to the face.

[nosequels.livejournal.com]

"Ahhh, shuddap."

There are further snickers as they pull the star along towards the door.