"If you say that you want to keep me safe, Tristran Thorn, I will be forced to -" she waves a hand angrily. "- I will march myself right back home while you are off and find more trouble than you can even imagine."
Or maybe she wouldn't. She'd be more likely to screech at the door until it gave up and let her through.
But that threat will do well enough for the moment.
She's too busy pressing her fingers aggrivatedly to her temples to worry about the effectiveness of her ranting. It's loud enough, so it's fine.
"And do you not think that it would matter to me if something happened to you?"
Well, that rules that out. Of course he he wants Yvaine safe - it's really the only thing he wants now. More than ever, too. If anything happened to her while they were out of familiar territory, how would he be able to live with himself?
Strong as she is (and she is the strongest girl he knows), anything can happen.
"Nothing - nothing will happen while I'm gone," he says. He shakes his head. "But I guess that doesn't matter now, does it? Will's invited the two of us to go to Sherwood."
He takes a step forward, then pauses there. She's right, of course. If she were to go somewhere, he'd want to be right there beside her. And he would. He'd make sure of it.
But this? This is different. He just - he can't - maybe he's just not as strong as she is.
"I would probably do the same thing," she adds, another sloppy sort of laugh making its way past her lips.
"Hell, I would probably lie to keep you safe, but in the end I would lose."
She presses a hand to her forehead, shaking her head almost incredulously.
"I do not know how to deny you, as - as utterly revolting as that is. I -" her arm hooks over her shoulder. "I waited much too long for you to let go of you."
Those words alone make him tilt his head up to look at her. He swallows.
"It isn't revolting," he says, shaking his head. "Not at all."
Tristran starts to close the distance between the two of them now, slowly but resolutely. He stops when he stands in front of her, then a half-smile, slightly lop-sided though faint, appears on his lips.
"You know, I can't even say I've waited for you. All my life, I was too much a fool to even know what love really was until you."
"Trust me, it's horrid," the star replies, standing stock-still, chin still tilted downward. "I am not precisely in the habit of giving in to much of anything."
Her eyes close as he walks - she's making an idiot of herself and she's not exactly ready to look at him quite yet. The words, however, make her smile - still embarrassed, but ridiculously pleased all the same.
"You're an idiot," she murmurs and steps forward the last bit - that, at least, is a compromise she can accept - snaking her arms under his and curling them up over his shoulders, cheek pressing lightly to his chest.
He lets out a sigh. Clearly, she's won this round (or at least this part of the match).
His arms wrap around her as well, and he kisses the top of her head, a familiar gesture now (now that they've done it over a billion times).
"If you do come, do you promise to stay practically glued to my side?" His voice is low and soft, but in it is the question of a promise, very firmly asked.
"It will be difficult to use your sword properly if I am glued to you," she teases, sobering a moment later and gazing up at him seriously. "It would have been the same at home, you do realize - perhaps not with the given immediacy of danger, but still the same. And I would be with you there."
"It does," he says. But he can't describe why, exactly. Perhaps it is because Faerie, wherever they may end up, is still familiar in the way that it is where they are from.
In a place neither of them have even heard of (perhaps, in the case of Tristran, except for in stories), it is different somehow. The unknown brings a different sort of fear; it is foreign.
"It isn't our world. It's..." He shakes his head and holds her a little tighter, still. "It does change."
"All that matters," she states, simply and with the sort of dignity that covers the spreading redness along her cheeks. "Is that it is where you are."
A quick, almost sheepish, breath out of her nose and she shakes her head again before speaking.
One figures that if they are going to say something, they might as well say the entire something.
"Your world, Tristran Thorn, with all of its rain and dirt and potent wines and - and incredibly overzealous goblins -" her arms slide downward, curling around his sides. "It is only home to me because you are in it."
The star shrugs then, nonchalantly. The whole world is stories except for the little that she has seen - and, even then, she has only seen the world with him.
"So if you decide one day to navigate the farthest regions of Hell itself," she pauses, lips curling. "You had best believe that I will be right there telling you precisely why I could have thought of far better places to spend a vacation."
Well, that is certainly poetry. Tristran, quite touched by the star's wise words, isn't quite sure how to respond.
No one's ever said anything like that to him before - it is usually him who chooses these sorts of words.
He smiles down at her, a charmed and slightly goofy smile, but one that speaks gratitude and love in the most simplest way.
Then, gathering his wits about him, he continues in a more serious manner: "All right, then. We'll go together - we'll always go together. If you ever had the need to venture somewhere, don't think for one moment that I will let you go without me too."
They really aren't any good at fighting. It must be that whole 'pathetically in love' thing.
Good. Hope that he was listening - as she has no express plans of saying that ever again if she can help it.
And he really ought to stop all of that smiling. Her skin is starting to turn a decidedly unnatural shade of neon. It's not particularly flattering.
She smiles back anyhow, eyes crinkled, "Need to keep the tally even, Prince Charming?"
It was a good fight while it lasted - but she won, and he's warm, and she sees no real reason to continue screaming like a holy terror. All in all, a highly successful argument, she thinks.
Yvaine considers most things that allow her to get her way to be highly successful - and they got through this argument much more neatly than the last one, so yes. Successful.
"Of course I do," she replies neatly and her hands slide a bit lower for a moment, lips curling dangerously, before she turns - snagging one of his hands and tugging him after her.
"Forgot to give you something," she adds cheerfully, gently pushing him down to sit on the edge of the bed. "Might be helpful while you play hero."
His hands are tucked into his pockets and his expression is serious and calm, hiding the touch of fear he feels.
"Yvaine, you must understand why I said that," he starts.
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Or maybe she wouldn't. She'd be more likely to screech at the door until it gave up and let her through.
But that threat will do well enough for the moment.
She's too busy pressing her fingers aggrivatedly to her temples to worry about the effectiveness of her ranting. It's loud enough, so it's fine.
"And do you not think that it would matter to me if something happened to you?"
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Strong as she is (and she is the strongest girl he knows), anything can happen.
"Nothing - nothing will happen while I'm gone," he says. He shakes his head. "But I guess that doesn't matter now, does it? Will's invited the two of us to go to Sherwood."
He clearly doesn't sound too pleased about that.
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She tilts her head, fingers still tangled - knotted really - in the ends of her hair, breathing still hitching and frustrated.
"You can tell me that nothing with happen - but that guarantees nothing, Tristran Thorn."
She glances downward, teeth catching at her lower lip and words forced.
She's bad at this. He should know that already.
"And if something were to happen I want to be there," a laugh. "If nothing happens, I still want to be there."
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But this? This is different. He just - he can't - maybe he's just not as strong as she is.
He remains silent for a moment.
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"Hell, I would probably lie to keep you safe, but in the end I would lose."
She presses a hand to her forehead, shaking her head almost incredulously.
"I do not know how to deny you, as - as utterly revolting as that is. I -" her arm hooks over her shoulder. "I waited much too long for you to let go of you."
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"It isn't revolting," he says, shaking his head. "Not at all."
Tristran starts to close the distance between the two of them now, slowly but resolutely. He stops when he stands in front of her, then a half-smile, slightly lop-sided though faint, appears on his lips.
"You know, I can't even say I've waited for you. All my life, I was too much a fool to even know what love really was until you."
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Her eyes close as he walks - she's making an idiot of herself and she's not exactly ready to look at him quite yet. The words, however, make her smile - still embarrassed, but ridiculously pleased all the same.
"You're an idiot," she murmurs and steps forward the last bit - that, at least, is a compromise she can accept - snaking her arms under his and curling them up over his shoulders, cheek pressing lightly to his chest.
"I'm coming with you, by the way."
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His arms wrap around her as well, and he kisses the top of her head, a familiar gesture now (now that they've done it over a billion times).
"If you do come, do you promise to stay practically glued to my side?" His voice is low and soft, but in it is the question of a promise, very firmly asked.
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That is the sigh of victory.
"It will be difficult to use your sword properly if I am glued to you," she teases, sobering a moment later and gazing up at him seriously. "It would have been the same at home, you do realize - perhaps not with the given immediacy of danger, but still the same. And I would be with you there."
She tilts her head back slightly.
"Does it change so much?"
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In a place neither of them have even heard of (perhaps, in the case of Tristran, except for in stories), it is different somehow. The unknown brings a different sort of fear; it is foreign.
"It isn't our world. It's..." He shakes his head and holds her a little tighter, still. "It does change."
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A quick, almost sheepish, breath out of her nose and she shakes her head again before speaking.
One figures that if they are going to say something, they might as well say the entire something.
"Your world, Tristran Thorn, with all of its rain and dirt and potent wines and - and incredibly overzealous goblins -" her arms slide downward, curling around his sides. "It is only home to me because you are in it."
The star shrugs then, nonchalantly. The whole world is stories except for the little that she has seen - and, even then, she has only seen the world with him.
"So if you decide one day to navigate the farthest regions of Hell itself," she pauses, lips curling. "You had best believe that I will be right there telling you precisely why I could have thought of far better places to spend a vacation."
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No one's ever said anything like that to him before - it is usually him who chooses these sorts of words.
He smiles down at her, a charmed and slightly goofy smile, but one that speaks gratitude and love in the most simplest way.
Then, gathering his wits about him, he continues in a more serious manner: "All right, then. We'll go together - we'll always go together. If you ever had the need to venture somewhere, don't think for one moment that I will let you go without me too."
They really aren't any good at fighting. It must be that whole 'pathetically in love' thing.
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And he really ought to stop all of that smiling. Her skin is starting to turn a decidedly unnatural shade of neon. It's not particularly flattering.
She smiles back anyhow, eyes crinkled, "Need to keep the tally even, Prince Charming?"
It was a good fight while it lasted - but she won, and he's warm, and she sees no real reason to continue screaming like a holy terror. All in all, a highly successful argument, she thinks.
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"If you say so," he says amusedly, chuckling.
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"Of course I do," she replies neatly and her hands slide a bit lower for a moment, lips curling dangerously, before she turns - snagging one of his hands and tugging him after her.
"Forgot to give you something," she adds cheerfully, gently pushing him down to sit on the edge of the bed. "Might be helpful while you play hero."
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