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[an_evening_star]

"... 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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[an_evening_star]

"I don't care!" her voice hitches unpleasantly and she can't breathe. It isn't fair. "I can go as far as I can and - and what right do you have to tell me what to do in the first place?"

She's close again - too close - one finger pressed accusingly against his shoulder and her own heartbeat traitorously loud between her ears.

"It isn't - it -" she swallows, ignoring the way her vision swims and spinning angrily, stalking back the way she came in and flinging the door open. "It isn't as though you can't find me."

It slams shut behind her, painfully loud, and she barely makes it a step before slumping down against it - hand braced against her chest and shoulders up about her ears miserably. The dog waiting behind the door whines quietly and noses its way timidly to her side.

"Stupid thing," she mutters, swiping angrily at her eyes - and she isn't certain whether she means the cold nose against her chin or the heart beneath her fingers.

[tristranthorn]

For one gut-wrenching moment after the door slams shut, Tristran stands stock-still where he is, hands clenched into fists at his sides, face full of anger and hurt and something that is very close to miserable as he stares at the floor.

Everything had gone wrong. Everything. He feels like an idiot. He is an idiot. A moron. Every single bad thing Yvaine has ever said to him -- it's true. He shouldn't have said those things.

He shouldn't have made her cry -- he saw the tears -- and it makes him feel horrible. So much so that it hurts in his chest.

[an_evening_star]

He's right, really. She can't leave - and she isn't really certain that she would even if she could. The star is pretty sure that she hates that most of all.

She really should go back in. She should go back in and think of something terribly clever to say to fix things - only she's never been any good at fixing much of anything.

The large, black form of the hunting dog noses closer and she lets out a pathetic attempt at a laugh, sounding more like a sob than it has any right to, "Least you don't hate me."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran isn't really sure what to do at this point.

All he knows is that he has to find Yvaine before she ... before something happens, before ...

He needs her.

Snapping out of his spell, he approaches the door and turns the knob.

[an_evening_star]

The suddenness of the door opening again takes her by surprise and sends her sprawling, head thunking rather solidly against the floor and she chokes out an odd sort of noise, and then laughter - still hitching and lost, but almost exasperatedly entertained. Her life sucks.

It's terribly messy, sobbing laughter - arm flung over her eyes and large pile of fur still flopped over her lap - but it's laughter all the same.

"I -" she manages, voice caught in that same mixture of miserable and amused. "I did not get very far."

[tristranthorn]

He practically breathes her name.

"Yvaine."

Then he's rushing towards her, lowering himself to her level and watching her with regret in his expression.

"I'm --" he lets out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Yvaine. I shouldn't have -- I mean, I -- you really have no obligation to -- and..."

He really, really has no idea how to talk anymore.

"I'm sorry."

[an_evening_star]

"I lied," she replies, not really bothering to move - or to open her eyes. "I was lucky - lucky to fall here, and probably very lucky to have been found by you. I'm sorry, I'm just tired."

And none of it's really lying this time around. It's just leaving out parts.

"It's colder here and I'm tired."

[tristranthorn]

He doesn't really know what to say to that except a very quiet, "...Thank you."

The pain in his chest is subsiding a bit, but oh, there is still thumping and wild beating and realizations.

"Come," he says, "let's ... just go inside for a moment. We'll pack our things, and ... and we'll leave as soon as you're ready."

[an_evening_star]

She shifts herself back into a seated position, rubbing her eyes and murmuring a quiet 'Up now.' to the dog before propping herself against the door frame so that she can tug herself upward enough to stand.

"We could wait," she says with uncharacteristic obedience. "Until morning - if it suits you."

[tristranthorn]

He doesn't touch her this time, doesn't think it right to try either.

They both likely need their space right now, and he is perfectly content to give it to her for as long as she needs. Perhaps he needs it too.

He shakes his head. "No, you're right. Come morning, they'll likely be asking for more stories and I'm afraid I'm starting to run out. I cannot be their bard."

[an_evening_star]

It's comforting, somehow, to do anything - no matter how small and insignificant - all on her own. Makes her feel a bit less useless, a bit more like herself.

"Do want to get home eventually," she allows, joke weak and eyes trained on the floor. "Though I doubt you'll have such an impressive harem there."

[tristranthorn]

He gives her a lopsided smile.

"I don't need a harem," he says, opening the door a little wider for her. "I never did."

[an_evening_star]

"Just Victoria Forrester," she replies, and if the smile she flashes in return is a bit forced for a moment or two that's okay. "I know."

The tug at her chest is a familiar weight now, the kind that she's used to, and it might not really be said that she's glad to be reminded. But at least it's over with. She knows.

"I do pay attention on occasion."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran chooses not to answer.

Not particularly because it is true, but mostly because (it isn't)...

He strides quickly to the bed and begins to rummage for things left around the room, hidden in places, to put back into his bag.

[an_evening_star]

She watches quietly, not making any particular move toward aiding in the process - it's not really like she knows where anything is this time around anyway. She hasn't been in his room.

Still leaning against the door frame, "Is that everything?"

[tristranthorn]

He picks up the salve, last of all, and places it above all the other things in his bag before latching the buckle closed.

"I think so," he says, giving the room a final scan then coming to join her.

[an_evening_star]

She waits until he's at her side before taking his arm carefully - because it's dark as pitch and she knows he will see nothing of what she can see - and the shock of the contact almost makes her forget to breathe again.

But that's not the point.

"I will not take you anywhere you don't want to go," she says softly, blinking up at him almost shyly. "Even if you cannot see the way just yet."

[tristranthorn]

"I know," he says, and adds, "thank you."

When she touches him, the tingling sensation that he'd grown accustomed to suddenly feels new again. New, and startling; his heart begins to beat uncontrollably once more.

He swallows.

"Just...lead us out of the village and back into Faerie," he says.

[an_evening_star]

"I do think I can manage that much," she smiles, slow and genuine, half shaded under her hair.

It's okay again. Not perfect, but things very rarely are.

"You will tell me if I am terribly off?"

[tristranthorn]

"Of course," he says.

Perhaps things are okay again -- perhaps they are not. For Tristran, his heart is being pulled in two very opposite directions, with one stronger than the other (and it does not take much to figure out which one it is pulling towards).

"If you ask me."

[an_evening_star]

She knows where her heart belongs - and no matter what direction they go, as long as she follows where he goes she is where she belongs.

It's entirely ridiculous and she nearly hates herself for it, but it's true.

"Which way then, Prince Charming?"

[tristranthorn]

He holds his free hand out and points towards the east.

"That way," he says automatically, not even having to think about it.

Readjusting his shoulder-bag, he blinks uselessly in the dark, wondering how on earth the star manages to see in this.

Distantly, he can hear the sound of animal panting.

[an_evening_star]

"Forward then," she laughs, watching his eyes for a moment - that certain element of looking at everything and nothing at all. "I think that I can handle forward."

She can feel the dark shape of the hunting dog against her side once more, tail thumping against the back of her skirts, and she smiles. Not so distant, really.

[tristranthorn]

And so he follows this time -- silently -- where the only sound beneath their feet is the crunching of grass and their soft steps.

[an_evening_star]

'I didn't want them to keep you,' she wants to say, but tightens her fingers slightly instead - it may be unfair that she can watch him now without any trouble, but it only really feels normal.

It's what she is. Stubborn and unnatural and nothing half as finely made up as the most wonderful girl anywhere.

And that's okay. She happens to think that what she has is far more practical anyhow.

"It is possibly cruel that I would very much like to see their faces when you have disappeared come morning."