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[an_evening_star]

When it comes down to it, she's unreasonably angry at nothing.

She's just plain angry.

Which, if she were the sort for self-analysis, she could probably chalk up as it being easier to be angry than it is to admit that she's feeling scared. Or worried. Or guilty. Or some horrible combination of all of those things at once.

But she's Yvaine. So she's angry.

She's angry as the door slams behind them and she's angry as she settles Tristran into the bed (gently, mind you, with a great deal more care than the bothers with for anything) and she's still angry when the door slams behind her once more on her way back downstairs.

All the wild, desparate energy abandons her when she's on her own again - dirty and dim and wildly frazzled. She takes a moment to slump down in front of the Bar - face in her hands, eyes shut tight, breathing slow and strained - before a quiet request for 'Something to make it not hurt, please.' gains her a couple of pills, a glass of water, and another trip up the stairs.

The door doesn't slam this time. Just in case he's sleeping.

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[tristranthorn]

Tristran is somewhere in between sleeping and not sleeping, lying on the bed with his head propped up on a pillow.

His arm is searing with pain from the still-raw wounds, but he's aware of where he is now, and has an idea, even, of what is going on. All in all, wounds aside, he isn't doing too badly.

He spots Yvaine as she comes in and gives her a small, weak smile of greeting. Now he is awake.

[an_evening_star]

She wasn't quite expecting him to be awake and it gets her to back up a little, swallowing and ducking her chin, trying to work herself back up to a proper standard of righteously indignant.

It only really makes it to somewhere around righteously disheveled.

The glass clinks onto the bedside table and she blinks down at him, "Are you alright?"

It's a pretty stupid question, as far as she's concerned, but she can't really think of another one.

[tristranthorn]

"Well, I've been better," he says dryly - yes, dryly.

There happens to be a sarcastic side to the young boy when he's wounded and there's nothing he can do about it.

[an_evening_star]

"Well, you are very clearly not fine - in fact, you are the opposite of fine," she adds. "You cannot move your arm properly, and you are very likely still bleeding - and even if you are not, you were and I have your blood on my clothing and you wanted to go on your own and leave me behind."

Her voice is a bit frantic at this point - fast-paced and nearly fraying at the edges - and her hair is in disarray, fallen from its neat knot and wild around her face.

She's rather distinctly not fine either.

[tristranthorn]

Tristran merely shakes his head.

"Come here," he says gently, though he doesn't exactly make any sort of gesture to accompany the request. After all, it's true: his sword-wielding arm isn't exactly movable right now, and yes, his blood is actually starting to soak into their bedsheets...but other than that? Quite peachy, really.

[an_evening_star]

"You said nothing was going to happen," she continues, the nervous pacing that had started up skittering to a pause somewhere next to the side of the bed. "You said and he almost sliced you open and -"

The sheets are stained.

The sheets are stained.

Quietly, "Why did you do that?"

[tristranthorn]

"I had to," he answers, his good arm - the working one with the burnt hand - reaching for her hand and squeezing it lightly in his. The burns are very faint now, and the skin is only slightly marred, a little shiny from the scars in comparison to his right.

"It's - I'm sorry. I know I said that nothing would happen, but..."

He had to.

[an_evening_star]

"I keep getting you in trouble."

She tangles her fingers around his and presses her lips to the back of his hand, leaning carefully against the side of the bed. The motion is careful - all of the motions are careful - it's strange to think of him as breakable.

[tristranthorn]

"It wasn't your fault," he says firmly. "Things happened, and I had to do what I had to do, that's all."

His smile becomes a little fuller.

"And I am still in one piece, am I not?"

Well, mostly, anyway.

[an_evening_star]

She glances down at him dryly for a moment, releases his hand, and circles around to her side of the bed, crawling over and curling up properly - hand snatched firmly between hers.

"One piece may be a bit of an overstatement, Prince Charming."

But good enough. Still there, which is good enough.

[tristranthorn]

He gladly welcomes her touch, and tries his best to lean a little towards her as well in order to close the small distance between them.

"I'll be fine," he assures her, then says amusedly, "And then you can call me an idiot and a moron all you want."

Not that that'd stop her now, of course.

[an_evening_star]

"You're in an awfully good mood for someone who is bleeding all over the place," she murmurs and obliges to shift herself closer still, flush against his side.

A pause, thumb circling reassuringly on the back of his hand.

"Speaking of which," she leans over him carefully (still carefully) and retrieves the items off of the bedside table. "Things - and water, so I am assuming that you swallow them - and you should, because the Lady Bar says you should."

[tristranthorn]

There are several reasons why he may be in such a good mood, and none of them have to do with the pain he feels in his arm and shoulder.

He also has to resist wincing as Yvaine gets closer to him; he wants to be close to her.

"What are these -" He has no concept of modern medicine, and looks at the pills confusedly. "Swallow them?"

[an_evening_star]

"I do not know," she replies. "I asked for something to make you feel better - this is what I was given."

She pokes him lightly in the side - the good side - and her attempt to frown sternly comes across rather more worried than she intended.

"And you will take them because I said so."

Or because if he doesn't she'll rant and refuse to kiss him ever again. Either way.

[tristranthorn]

He proceeds to swallow the pills as directed, drinking water to help him get them down. Nothing to it.

Once that is done, he holds the glass in his hand. "There," he says, smiling a bit. "Happy?"

He has no idea what taking these things is supposed to do, though.

[an_evening_star]

Make him feel better.

That's pretty much all that she's gathered so far.

She smiles back at him - the first actual hint of one that she's allowed herself - and sets the water glass to the side, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Very much so," she says, fingers seeking his as quickly as they let go. She almost needs it. "Now, just don't do that again and I will be ecstatic."

[tristranthorn]

Tristran simply gives her a half-tired, half-amused smile.

"I'll try," he promises her. That's about all he can do, though. If the situation were to repeat itself, he would likely have done it again. And again. And again. As he shifts a bit, searching for a more comfortable position, the pain in his shoulder makes him wince.

He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a breath. "When are these things supposed to work, exactly?"

[an_evening_star]

She winces guiltily in response, shifting herself down further and pressing another kiss to his jaw, murmuring softly - yet sternly - at the place just behind his ear, "You will. Next time it's my turn."

The fingers still holding his worry absently at the scars on the back of his hand.

"I'm overdue, anyhow."

Then, quietly, "I'm sorry. I know I do not say it often, though I probably often have reason to -" she tightens her fingers possessively. "You're not allowed to die on me anyway. You promised that too."

[tristranthorn]

That gets his attention. Eyes opening again, he looks at her.

"No, there won't be any heroics from you if I can help it," he says. It's the strength thing, again. He doesn't think he could possibly stay as strong as she is now, if she were to get hurt.

"Hopefully we won't ever have to go through a situation like that, anyway, as it isn't exactly fun." He laughs wryly, then squeezes her hand. "I will keep to my promise, Yvaine. I won't be dying any time soon." He shakes his head as a bout of ridiculousless comes on. "It would mean I couldn't be here with you."

[an_evening_star]

Yvaine just doesn't like to panic in front of people - and he gets to count as people this time around.

And still she's shifted as close as she can manage - fingers tangled and skin touching his wherever it is possible to while remaining proper and very very careful.

"You better not," her free hand idles with his hair, soft and strangely tender - laughing quietly. "Or I will have to find some way to find you and drag you back with me."

He's hers now - he doesn't get to leave.

[tristranthorn]

He lets his eyes rest for the moment, focusing his contentment on the feeling of Yvaine near him, the tingling hum present, yet at the same time so normal that he barely notices it.

"I have no doubt that you will."

[an_evening_star]

"The end of the world and back again," she whispers quietly while his eyes are closed - it's almost funny how the whole room is empty and it's still an easier thing for her to do then. "Promise."

She lets out a quietly mortified groan - nose buried against the side of his neck and hand snaking lower, fingers curling, holding him there.

"See the sort of ridiculous things you get out of me?"

[tristranthorn]

Tristran places a kiss upon the top of her head with a soft laugh.

"It makes me feel a little less ridiculous when you do it too," he says. "And I like to hear it, too."

[an_evening_star]

"You're infecting me with it," she mumbles in accusation - poking him in the side. "Soon enough I will be rendered completely useless."

Her lips curve upward against his skin, contrary to the words.

"You'll get absolutely sick of me."

[tristranthorn]

"I promise you that I will never get sick of you," he tells her, pulling her a little closer towards him with his better arm.

"I am more afraid that you will eventually tire of me."

You know, him being a mortal boy (with, yes, half-faerie blood, but still) and all.

[an_evening_star]

"You have my heart in your chest, dear."

She leans back a bit, just enough to tilt her chin up and press her lips briefly to his cheek. He's a ridiculous mortal boy.

"Should take care of it," she adds, blinking up at hi. "It's going to be there for some time."

Some time, forever and a half - same deal.

[tristranthorn]

"You know, Yvaine, you really do have a way with words."

He chuckles against her touch.

"I will take very good care of it," he says. "No harm will ever come to it for as long as I exist."

[an_evening_star]

"I am being very terribly literal."

Her fingers skitter their way back up and pressing over the place where hearts should be.

"Though I am glad, nonetheless, that it will be cared for - there was much deliberation before I let it go," she replies. "I was rather fond of mine."

[tristranthorn]

"Hmm...well, now you have mine in its place," he says.

"A fair trade, I think, though mine might just be a little more on the ridiculous side of things, as you'd say."

[an_evening_star]

"Tristran, we redefine ridiculous," a mild sort of thunk and her forehead is back against his shoulder. "But places and spaces, very well."

A quiet laugh.

"I think that it fits well where it is."

[tristranthorn]

He laughs.

"Yes, that's true. But I am rather fond of this - the ridiculousness, and all of it - all of you."

[an_evening_star]

"You're teetering close to the point where I am forced to shut you up, Prince Charming."

Carefully and all that.

As he is the injured party here.

[tristranthorn]

"I know that."

He does. But somehow, he doesn't mind it at all. That's the ridiculousness for you; it comes at will and simply must do its thing, regardless of whether its victim feels like a fool or not.

"But as I've said once before, I can't help it."

[an_evening_star]

The smile curves back up again - before she blinks and narrows her eyes.

"Stop distracting me," she chastises, poking him in the chest again. "I am being worried and stern - and you are being all distracting."

[tristranthorn]

He laughs again.

"I cannot help that either."

[an_evening_star]

"Well, you're going to rest," she instructs solemnly. "Rest and not move until you are functional again."

Another quick grin.

"And then we will see if you are forgiven for ruining my perfectly good fussing."

[tristranthorn]

"Very well, Yvaine," he says, shifting in his spot as though to prove he will do just that.

He would like to get his functionality back, after all. Being in so much of this...pain is not fun.

"Will you stay with me?"

[an_evening_star]

"As if I would leave," she returns, shifting upward and leaning close. "Where else do you think that I would go?"

This, it might be noted, is not exactly a 'sweet dreams' kiss. This is a 'if you do not wake up in the morning, I will skin you myself' kiss.

It adds a certain something, she'd like to think.

[tristranthorn]

Ah, perhaps. But it is a kiss nevertheless, and a kiss that tells him - more or less - that he is hers, as she is his.

He smiles, but doesn't reply. He doesn't think he has to. There is gratitude in his smile and in the way he continues to hold her.

[an_evening_star]

"Go to sleep, dear."

Another kiss, pressed against his temple - softer, this time, and lingering longer.

"I'll still be here when you wake up."