milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's been a while.

Okay, so it's been way more than a while, but the narration would go so far as to err on the side of diplomacy lest it be included in the general air of 'royal lazyasses' that seems to follow its charges around on a near-constant basis. It is not lazy - it is abused and mistreated.

"- should have seen your face when it started moving!"

"It was a tree. Trees don't move - there are roots involved - it's rather the point, Yvaine."

"So you talked to one, but they cannot move?"

"Yes, but that's an entirely -"

You see what it has to live with on a daily basis?

The couple that appears along with the bickering looks rather like they've been walking a great deal - vaguely dusty, slightly threadbare, and sun-darkened (well, one of them, at least) - but altogether rather pleased, if a little footsore.

"Oh," the star remarks, blinking once at the sudden change of scenery and grinning widely. "Civilization!"

Company would be welcomed. (As would dinner, more likely than not, but first thing's first.)

(OOC: ~~Two for the price of one! It's sort of a discount ... only not at all.~~ AND NOW - for bedtime!)

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The star just rolls her eyes bemusedly, settling back and absently reminding him to order pie.

It isn't like she's particularly interested in the rest of it.

"The seasons have, I'm sure, if nothing else."

Especially given their length of absence. She definitely missed the snow and everything.

"Which is unfortunate," she adds, off of the train of thought. "Because I did enjoy the parts of winter that you weren't ill for, dear."

Tristran chuckles as the waitrat scurries off to grab his rather generous order - pie included.

"It was fun, wasn't it?" he says with a grin as he recalls the memory. "Though that whole time was a bit confusing for me."

What with the whole Victoria thing.

We are not to speak of such things - at least not by name. Speaking of while using mocking nicknames we will take under advisement.

Dryly, though the slight shift closer takes most of the sting out of it, "Because it was a joy for me as well."

That is perfectly fine at this point, as mocking nicknames are all part of the fun now.

"Perhaps we'll be around the next time winter comes to this place," he says, innocently ignoring Yvaine's dry tone of voice.

She'll let that one slide. (For now.)

She arcs an eyebrow.

"Planning on going anywhere I should know about, Prince Charming?"

"Well, I don't know. We never do seem to come here upon our own will," he says reasonably.

"We're going to have to work on that," she replies.

They can totally overcome the cosmos - all part of a day's work!

"Even if it is just for sleeping - because, really, there is only so much wilderness-survival I can take."

Nothing they haven't done before, that much is certain.

He nods, letting out an easy laugh. "You feel the same too, then? I was beginning to think you were enjoying the rocks and sticks underneath us when we slept on the ground."

There might be sarcasm in that. Maybe.

She's so proud!

"It does add a certain -" she wrinkles her nose, fanning a hand dismissively.

Yeah, not even bothering with that one.

"No, dear. Resoundingly so," a wide grin. "And I will not hesitate to make you carry the mattress from upstairs out the door with us should it come to it."

"That's over-exaggerating it a little, isn't it?" he says, blinking at her. "I mean, the mattress is terribly heavy, after all!"

He pauses.

"Plus, we don't want to be accused of thievery."

"Oh, come now, cannot be that heavy. It is a mattress, not a boulder."

The grin flickers up a bit, eyes bright.

"And it isn't thievery if we pay for it."

He proceeds to blink further. She isn't serious.

"You are joking, right? I mean - the mattress. It's - it'd be difficult to carry it with us at all times."

Poor Tristran. The narration takes pity on his innocence. (And chuckles a bit, too.)

She could be - she has a rather convincing sort of air about her when the situation calls for it.

Solemnly, "I could be persuaded to help you on occasion."

He shakes his head.

"We cannot possibly -"

The narration would like a moment to sigh and hang it's head in shame at the forecast for the future of Stormhold.

The star, on the other hand, lets out a laugh that would - in less polite societies - be considered a cackle. A little breathless for one, perhaps, and a little too bright, but a cackle nonetheless.

"You -" she gasps. "You are ridiculous."

He pauses.

And then it dawns on him.

(There is hope for him yet. He'll learn quicker, honest.)

"You know, that isn't funny." Beat. "At all."

"Oh, but I think that it's hysterical."

And it is.

It really, really is.

She giggles, "It would have been even better if I had gotten you to do it."

"I'm sure," he says deadpan. "Yes, I'm sure you would have been beside yourself with laughter."

He shakes his head.

"I will never believe you again."

"Now that's simply not true, dear."

She tilts her head against his shoulder, blinking upward with her most charming smile.

"What if I said that I loved you?"

He ignores the smile quite deliberately, no matter how charming it is.

"You," he says, turning to her with a very grave expression on his face, "are a cheater."

Now we are wounded, Tristran Thorn.

Look at that face!

"You do not believe me?"

The face is convincing.

But, no! We must keep our resolve.

Honest.

It is -

He won't -

"... n-no."

"You don't?"

She crosses her arms, turning her chin and tilting it up.

"Fine then - see if I want to share my pie with someone who doesn't believe me when I tell him that I love him."

"You don't eat pie," he reminds her.

"Could if I wanted to," she replies stubbornly.

A quick glance backward, over her shoulder.

"And I have before, if you recall. You gave it to me."