tristranthorn: (moar traveling?)
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?"
tristranthorn: (caught off guard)
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."
tristranthorn: (cute grin; enlighten; no way)
"Party name of Thorn? Tristran of that set?"

It is a little after sunrise when Tristran opens his eyes to see a large badger approach him on its hind legs, wearing a threadbare heliotrope silk dressing gown. It bends forward, peering at him self-importantly, awaiting his response.

"Mm?"

Oh. And there's suddenly a headache the size of all of Faerie, he imagines, clogging his entire head, making him feel like someone's hit him repeatedly with a grand piano. There is a foul taste in his mouth, one which feels dry and furred. He could easily have slept for another several hours, and yet he knows he cannot at the same time.

"They've been asking about you," the badger goes on."Down by the gap. Seems there's a young lady wants to have a word with you."

Tristran sits up immediately. Something rises in his chest, but something also sinks. "Oh?"

The badger nods.

He turns to touch the sleeping star on her shoulder. "Yvaine," he says.

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tristranthorn: (Default)
Tristran Thorn

July 2010

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