an_evening_star | (no subject)

"... Tristran and Yvaine were forced to sneak out of the town at the dead of night, and they only escaped because Yvaine persuaded (by some means, on which Tristran was never entirely clear) the dogs of the town not to bark as they left."

-- Stardust, p.248

"We would so love to keep you, Master Tristran," she mocks - voice a high-pitched falsetto, eyelashes fluttering - as she stalks forward, looking altogether rather murderous. "Just one more, please? Oh, my you do look strong."

She feels rather smug with the ease in which she remains distinctly not torn to pieces of any kind, and grins at her walking companion for a brief moment.

"You will forgive me," she drawls down at the hunting dog following along at her side, its dark shoulders set high near to her hip. "If I cannot quell the urge to vomit."

The trip to the room they've provided for Tristran isn't all too far, though the walk itself does manage to reign in her temper considerably, leaving her satisfied enough to ruffle the dog's ears fondly before she slips through the (unlocked - bloody moron) door undetected.

She pauses then and her eyes roll indulgently at the fact that he's already passed out, shoes still on and covers forgotten, and she pads forward quietly.

"Tristran," she singsongs, leaning over his sleeping form - one hand braced above his shoulder and the other hovering lightly over his chest. "Time to go now, Tristran."

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"I think that it would be my job to be the judge of that," she replies and the purposeful haughtiness is an audible thing.

They slow for a brief moment as the terrain changes slightly, Yvaine whispering orders - up then, and now over, worse than steps - snickering quietly as one of the dogs nearly sets him off-balance.

And then quieter, during another lull, "Perhaps I will return the favor."

"I would like that," he says softly. He's heard her sing before -- once, or he thinks he did. It's hard to tell now with so much time passing from the beginning of his journey to this point in time.

It is a moment later when Tristran asks, "Why aren't they barking?"

She's brightened slightly since they've started walking - an unconscious sort of glow at the very edges of her, snaking along her skin, flickery like a candle.

"I have to keep some secrets, Prince Charming," she grins in reply to his question. "Wouldn't be half as interesting if I didn't."

"I suppose," he says, turning his head to spot them. But they're dark animals, too, and he can only hear them panting but it's hard to locate exactly where they are.

"...well, why are they following us?"

"They know where they're going better than I do," she shrugs, then reaches her free set of fingers downward, ruffling dark ears easily. "And I rather figure that it means they like me."

Quiet, and mostly teasing.

"Someone has to."

Tristran doesn't respond to that, simply opting to stay quiet -- with his deep, dark thoughts (as dark, perhaps as everything around him).

She allows him his quiet - and perhaps she needs it for herself just as much - it's not much further to go, at least.

"Are you excited," she asks, facing the opposite direction even though she knows he can't see her. "To be getting home soon?"

On any other day but the last few -- perhaps ever since leaving the pirate ship -- he would have answered 'yes' without any hesitation.

Now, however, it takes him a moment before he answers: "Yes." It is said slowly, and with the barest hint of reluctance.

Pleased though he may to be going home to everything familiar, he is also worried. What will happen to Yvaine? What will he say to Victoria?

"Good," she murmurs and shrugs slightly, shoulder shifting against his. "Not too much longer to wait then."

She's proud that it doesn't sound miserable at all, even skitters somewhere along the edge of pleased.

"Not too much longer at all."

"Mmm...yes," he says in agreement. "Soon the journey -- this quest -- will be over."

It sounds so ... final.

Isn't that the point of finishing things?

"Smile, Prince Charming," she replies. "You can have your ending now."

Yes, but he never thought it would be like this.

"You can see me," he states rather obviously. "I can't see you very well."

"Then I can tell if you don't smile," she blinks, attention drawn back to him as though the words were a summons.

"You'll just have to guess."

"Yes, I guess so."

Pause.

"You aren't smiling now, are you?"

She hadn't been - not really - but the question itself tugs slightly at the edges of her lips, softening her expression and tightening her fingers.

"I might be."

Not too much longer at all, but it's good enough for now.

Tristran can't help but smile at that, so really, there's a whole sort of smiling game occurring.

"It will be nice," he says automatically, "to actually see your smile, rather than guess whether you are or not."

... Did he say that aloud?

He just might have.

There's a quick, quiet hitch of breath and the edges of her twinkle ridiculously for a moment - and somewhere in her all the questioning things she had managed to silence flare up again as bright and as loud as the color across her cheeks.

"When it is morning," she manages. "Perhaps I will still feel like smiling."

"I hope so," he says simply, and then he's silent for another moment -- still smiling (like an idiot).

This should not be happening, now that he knows. If anything, he should be forgetting about this. He should be thinking of Victoria.

The lovely, beautiful Victoria with her ... her ... what colour were her eyes again? ... Blue? No, definitely not. He blinks.

How could he forget?

Yvaine could tell him, if he asked. She remembers.

Though, to be entirely honest, she's not thinking very much about Victoria Forrester or her grey eyes terribly much at all. Idiocy, it seems, is one of those things that is catching.

"Me too," she laughs brightly. "Actually."

"How far have we walked from the village?" he asks then, in a desperate attempt to change the conversation (and therefore possibly dispel the discomfort).

She tilts her head to peer behind them - far enough, she supposes, and replies as such. Things are small behind them and the dogs have fallen back.

"And which way takes you home now?"

"That way," Tristran answers automatically, finger pointing towards a more north-east direction this time. "Right past that small mountain."

He blinks in the dark and lets out a yawn. "Are you tired, Yvaine?"

"No," she answers simply - then adds, as if it changes everything. "But you are."

A teasing drawl.

"You will be able to walk in a straight line come morning anyhow."

Another yawn, quite suddenly.

"Mmm ... yes. I am feeling rather tired. Perhaps we ought to find a spot, just for a few hours at most..."

"Just sit down, Prince Charming," her eyes roll indulgently, smile oddly fond under the cover of darkness. "Nothing is after us this time."

Her fingers loosen as she stops walking, releasing him and wrapping her arms lightly around her stomach.

"Odd as it may seem."

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