(121-04-22) A Sea of Stars
A Sea of Stars
Summary: In Starfall, Tameron and Magden remember Ser Osric.
Date: April 24, 2014
Related: None, directly.
Players:
Magden..Tameron..

Magden likes to make her entrance by windows, when possible. It's one third discretion, one third showboating, and a third sheer whimsy. After all, she's stated more than once that she can fly.

There hasn't been a lot of time to talk, since leaving Westeros. Not really. They've trained and traveled and taken meals together, but with an entourage always about. Magden doesn't do a lot of talking around an entourage. She tends to speak through Tameron and avoid other people's eyes. When she does lock eyes with someone strange, it usually means there's about to be trouble. So Magden with her gaze low is a good thing. For now.

At any rate, it's possible she's been worried, but how can she say anything with people always about? How can she do anything other than follow him with her eyes, frowning, and stand very close when she's able, sentinel at his side, protective and possessive like a faithful hound. It's something, but it's insufficient, so she comes to visit in the night. By the window. Alighting upon the dizzying height of the window ledge as though she'd flown up, indeed.

Tameron has been rather quiet himself, sitting up late with Lady Ellia when she wishes company and helping to wrangle the children when she does not. He always seems to know where Magden is and there's the occasional, appreciative glance for her presence, but not much more communication than that. And then there is the matter of Osric's final rites and the ceremony returning Dawn to Starfall until such a time as another Dayne becomes worthy of wielding it.

Tonight is the last night before they travel back to Oldtown, and Tam is in bed, but wide awake. Perhaps he is no longer surprised when his squire appears via window, as Magden's climbing in only causes him to turn his head and blink at her. "Something on your mind, Magden Quick?"

"Yes," says Magden, coming over to shoo him out of bed. "Get up and get dressed. How well do you climb?"

"What?" Tameron asks, frowning. "Not as well as you. I'm not scaling any buildings, thanks all the same."

Magden sighs. "Then I suppose we'll take the stairs." Ugh. There's little in the world Magen Quick disapproves of so much as stairs. It's a thing. She grabs the covers and yanks. "Up!"

"Hey!" Tameron grabs for the covers, in large part because he's opted to sleep in the buff. "You little harpy," he grouses, climbing out of bed with the covers wrapped around his hips. He grabs a shirt and trousers, tugging them on and muttering softly. "You can't even decide on a walk at a normal hour?"

Magden rolls her eyes. "This fascination you have with normalcy? It's unhealthy."

"According to who?" Tameron asks as he stomps into his boots and then looks over at Magden, brows lifted.

"Me?" Magden supplies. Duh. "I traveled with a circus, that makes me an authority — are you ready yet, Tameron Sand?"

"Assuming we won't be fighting anything, seems I am," Tameron agrees with a small nod. "You were in a circus? Really?"

Magden nods. "Really." She seems about to say more, then is suddenly re-stricken with her sense of urgency about this mysterious outing. "Come on, we have to hurry!" She grabs his hand and runs out the door.

"We… what?" Tameron asks as he's grabbed. And then he's running out the door after Magden, and down the hall and down the stairs, whether she likes them or no.

Not so! Down the hall and up the stairs. And then down another hall. As he's doubtless long-since learned, Magden makes it her business to know all the outs and ins of a place soon as she's set foot there — if not sooner. So it's with unerring rapidity that they race to the east tower — and climb, and climb, and climb.

Well, up then, though Tameron becomes increasingly more wary as the up keeps on going. Sure, Magden Quick can 'fly', but, that was just a metaphor… right?

Maybe it's something they teach people in the circus. Maybe the dark, terrible secret of the world is that, after the crowds have all gone home for the night, circus clowns gather together and take to the sky, searching for naughty children and unwary travelers. But the narrator digresses — up! And then, finally, out! Magden throws open a door and they hurtle out onto the highest rooftop in Starfall, beneath so many stars that there is still silvery, eldritch illumination without any moon. Magden leads the way out more slowly, her head tipped back to watch the sky.

Tameron follows after, stepping out onto the roof and peering upwards. "Is this why you were in such a rush?" he asks quietly, "because I don't think the stars are going anywhere."

"Shows what you know, Tameron Sand," says Magden, still peering upwards. She glances at the roof beneath their feet for a moment, stopping just before they trip over a pile of blankets. Another glance at the sky, as though she really is expecting it to go somewhere, then she sits, head back and knees drawn up.

"Do they go somewhere?" Tameron asks, brows lifting in honest query. He eases down onto the blankets, arm inadvertently brushing up against Madgen's. "Have you come up here every night?"

"Yes," says Magden. Still, she watches and waits. Then she gasps. "There!" She points. "Did you see it?"

Tameron blinks up at the stars, brows furrowing. "See what?"

A few heartbeats later, he does see. The stars are constant in their station, unmoving and fixed — then one streaks across the sky, north to south, so bright it seems to have a tail. "There!" Magden whispers, pointing again. Almost before she can extend her arm, there's another, silvery blue, arcing across the firmament.

"Oh," Tameron breathes out softly, his eyes widening a little as one streak, and then another, cuts through the inky sky. "So that's why the call it 'Starfall'…"

"This is rare," says Magden, softly, eyes fixed above as the stars fall in splendor, a new flash of light and tail of gossamer every few seconds. "Even here." The sky sparkles as though handfuls of bright gems are cast, uncaring, across the kingdom of sands.

"Is it?" Tameron asks softly, peering up at the sky. "I never looked up at the sky much. What are they?"

"They do call them stars. Falling stars," says Magden, her shoulder brushing his as up she looks. The show goes on. "Some people in the desert call them gods' tears. Some people think they're good omens. Some bad. Some people," she smiles as one particularly bright mote races by them, seeming closer than the others, "believe that when you see one, you should make a wish."

Tameron puffs out a soft laugh for that last. "I can believe in gods' tears easier than I can believe in wishes," he murmurs softly. "But they are beautiful, Maggie Quick. Thank you for showing me."

Magden nods. "You're welcome," she replies, just as soft. "I remembered, when I saw the first few, what — someone — had told me. About what they're called in the desert." She glances just a moment at his profile, then back up at the extraordinary lights. "I thought… if the gods were crying, it was for your ser. And I thought… you especially should see them, then. For him."

Tameron is quiet for a long while after Madgen stops speaking, watching as the 'tears' cut their path through the stars. "I wish they had no cause to weep," he says at length. "I wish they had let him live."

Magden nods. "I know." She is silent for some time, as well. Then, she says, "Tell me how you met him."

"I…" Tameron huffs a small, weak laugh, "…robbed him. Or, tried to. He found me elbow deep in his saddlepack. And instead of giving me to the guards, he brought me to his manor in Sunspear. And then, a couple weeks later, here. To Starfall."

Magden smiles faintly. "A good man and a bad thief."

"Just a man," Tameron replies. "Or boy, I suppose. I hadn't had much practice thieving, and I'll grant it was a rather pitiful attempt."

"He was the good man," Magden corrects with quiet teasing, nudging his shoulder with hers. "You were the bad thief." But that was then. "And he made you his squire?"

Tameron gives a small nod, smiling a little sheepishly for his misunderstanding. "He did," he agrees quietly. "Sparred with me once I was well enough for it, guess he thought I did well enough."

Three stars fall in quick succession, as though racing one another for some great unknown. "He loved you," says Magden. Another star falls, a faint purple hue to its dazzling brightness. "Do you believe it?"

"He loved what he knew of me," Tameron answers, his gaze following that last, faintly purple, star. "That was enough. More than."

"I… understand that feeling, I think," Magden says. "How did you come to be a bad thief?"

"I was hungry," Tameron replies quietly, "and had no coin. So…" So. Theft. Badly.

She glances at his profile. "And how did you come to be hungry?"

Tameron stares determinedly up at the sky. "I expect you've pieced that together for yourself, more or less."

Magden shifts slightly, slender arms encircling him from behind. She rests her head against his back, listening to his heart and breathing. "Tell me anyway."

"Why?" Tameron asks softly, neither moving away from or leaning into Magden's embrace. "Why should it matter?"

"It doesn't matter," Magden replies, lips brushing the nape of his neck. "Let me prove it."

"Perhaps it matters to me," Tameron murmurs, his eyes closing briefly at the touch of Magden's lips to his skin.

"Why does it matter to you, then?" She smooths his hair back, then tips her head to kiss the side of his throat.

"Because some things are better forgotten than dwelled upon," Tameron replies.

"That's only part of the truth," says Magden. She speaks against his ear, now, each soft word a kiss.

"Oh, is it?" Tameron asks, brows furrowing and his hand reaching back to push through Magden's hair. "And what's the rest, then?"

Magden kisses the other side of his neck, softly suckling, tasting his skin. "He loved what he knew of you, you said," she replies, her breath cool where her mouth leaves him wet. "I think we keep hidden the things we feel are impossible to love."

"All the better to forget them, then," Tameron replies softly, "and move on."

"Tameron Sand," she sighs, shaking her head a little. Still, she's not going to beat it out of him, it seems — this time. Instead, she swings around him to straddle his lap, brushing the tip of her nose along the bridge of his. "If you want me to stop talking," she suggests, smiling softly, "you should stop my mouth."

A corner of Tameron's mouth quirks as his hands come to rest on Magden's hips. "I'm in no danger of dying tomorrow, you know," he points out, his voice just a whisper for their closeness.

Magden rolls her eyes, smirking. "Must you be on the verge of death to want me?" she asks.

"Well, no," Tameron allows with a tiny laugh. "But I rather thought it might be true the other way 'round."

Magden laughs and shakes her head. "It's a good thing you're pretty, Tameron Sand…"

Tameron huffs softly and then he does stop Magden's mouth. Or, at least, her words, with a slow, soft kiss beneath a sea of stars.

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