Title: Crowning Tristan
Author: Sedri
Rating: PG-13 / T
Summary: We've seen Tristan grow from a boy to a man, but how does that man become a king? A gapfiller between the end of the battle and the coronation. Movieverse, with elements from the book. Canon pairings. Discontinued; final chapters summarised.

Disclaimer: I do not own Stardust in any way. This is just for fun.

Author's notes: In earlier versions, Talmor was named "Tevien", but there was a character in my story The Grand Vizier of Oz that it was much better suited to, hence the swap. I've also named the red-haired star we saw in the movie flashback ("Cirra"), and all the history discussed is my creation – it is expanded on in appendix two.

Act Three: The Road To Stormhold

Chapter Nine

By hoof and wheel, the journey to the palatial city on Mount Huon could be managed in less than five days. But, because Una wanted Tristan to have as much time as possible to learn about his country before being placed in charge of it, she instructed Captain Oltran to set a steady, easy pace that would extend their journey to no less than a week. The plan was to stop every night at an inn or town and make it known that they were there, spreading rumours about the missing princess and her son, which Una hoped might make it easier for the people to accept an heir they'd never met as their king.

On the first night they stayed at a small roadside inn which stood alone on the moors. It was humble and cosy and practically empty, run by an elderly couple who gibbered and gawked at the grand carriage and elegant passengers until even Tristan gave up trying to make them act naturally. He became very good and smiling and nodding while they bowed repeatedly, and as soon as he had the chance, disappeared into the quiet of his room.

Una and Dunstan remained at the table, talking with guards about security while the innkeepers scurried around, giving the other rooms an extra dusting whether they needed it or not. Yvaine waited a while, then excused herself. She had been distracted all through dinner, and climbed the stairs planning do something about it.

When they'd begun the ride that afternoon, Tristan had taken a few minutes to quietly think, mulling over the latest major change in his life, then turned to his mother and said, "I think I need those lessons now."

Una had smiled, nodded, and begun to teach. She sketched out the history of Stormhold, explaining what little myths told them about its earliest days, an ancient time when the fairy lands and mundane lands of Earth were almost a single world, when people all over Earth encountered the great magical beasts that now lived only in Stormhold. Yvaine, who knew most of that already, had paid little attention, but she did help Una explain the events surrounding the separation of the worlds.

Stormhold historians only knew that magical barriers had somehow been constructed, enclosing and protecting their land – which hadn't been named yet – from the destructive disbelief of Earth humans. There were legends of a fallen star who taught the art of magic from about the same time, and it was from her story that most common knowledge about stars was derived. Yvaine confirmed that yes, that star was her sister Selena. Selena's fall was accidental, and though she was in no real danger (back then, even witches and warlocks didn't know how valuable a heart was), she was trapped, for at the time there was no such thing as a Babylon candle. Selena had invented them, actually, creating the first candle for the sole purpose of returning home to the sky.

Yvaine confessed that she knew next to nothing of working magic; Selena, who was older, had spent much of her life learning the theory, and though no star could cast spells of any kind – despite being magical creatures, there were very few ways in which they could wield that magic – she was able to teach gifted humans how to use the power their bodies could channel from the land. Those were the predecessors of modern witches and warlocks, and they helped her not only to make the candle, but to erect the walls and close the portals connecting Earth to the magical world. The humans living inside at the time were trapped, and began to build an entirely new society out of pieces of cultures from all over Earth.

Details about how the barriers worked, what had broken the wall near Wall, or exactly how the worlds had once interacted were questions that Yvaine could not answer. She had been wandering the far side of the galaxy for most of that time and though Selena had lived on Earth for centuries, she had told her sister extremely little about it.

There was, however, more to the story that Yvaine knew, but didn't tell. Talking about Selena's life on Earth had reminded her of another issue, one that she wasn't quite sure how to approach. Despite her best intentions, she had never gotten around to telling Tristan that he had the chance to be immortal.

It was not, after all, an easy conversation. She'd tried to start it now and then, but there had never been a good opportunity; they were always doing something else, out in too public a place or simply having too much fun to spoil it with such a serious discussion. It had never felt like the right time.

It still didn't.

Yvaine reached Tristan's door, lifted her hand to knock – then paused. Just what was she planning to say? "Hello, Tristan. Did I mention that you're going to live forever? No? Sorry. Have you seen my cloak?"

Ha.

She'd spent most of dinner trying to phrase it better, to plan her explanation, only to realise that she really didn't know much about it herself. She didn't know if he would age like a human or remain forever young like she did. She didn't know if he had to love her back, or if her feelings alone caused her heart to share its golden energy – and if that were the case, how could she possibly make herself stop loving him if he refused it?

Yvaine bit her lip and dropped her hand. Tristan would want to know these things. She wanted to know these things. It would hardly be fair to tell him now, when she couldn't even explain it properly – and besides, he'd spent most of the day preoccupied by his new responsibilities. Why add to that burden without giving him the means to decide?

Despite the logic, Yvaine couldn't quite make herself walk away, either. She hesitated, arguing with herself until Una suddenly appeared on the stairs and ended the dilemma.

The princess was smiling absently at the babbling innkeeper beside her, nodding politely while he repeatedly assured her that these were the best rooms they had, that he was very sorry about the poor layout of his establishment and how he did so hope her soldiers would be comfortable in the remaining rooms.

Una caught Yvaine's glance and subtly rolled her eyes, and when their host finally stopped to take a breath, interrupted. "Captain Oltran is worried that his men won't be able to cover four rooms," she explained to Yvaine, "so we agreed that it's better to use two. You and I will share that one." Pointing to the next door down and gesturing for the star to follow, she walked past Yvaine while the innkeeper scuttled ahead of them both, hurrying to turn down the bed for these great ladies.

Yvaine glanced back at Tristan's door, but Dunstan was already approaching with his travel bag, and two soldiers followed. Moments later he'd knocked and entered, and Oltran's men were arranging their posts along the corridor.

She followed Una. This was definitely not the right time.

Dunstan walked into his room for the night to find Tristan sitting on the bed, boots kicked off and staring absently out the window. He turned as his father entered, and Dunstan was quietly amused to notice the look of disappointment on his face. It was quickly masked, though, by a smile and a greeting.

Putting down his bag of clothes, Dunstan briefly explained the security problem, repeating the captain's logic about the number of men and hours in their shifts, to which Tristan just nodded and said, "That makes sense."

He didn't ask for a reason why it was his father and not Yvaine who would be sharing his room, and Dunstan didn't offer one. Tristan thought he already knew, but he might have been surprised.

Though Dunstan had indeed been the one to suggest the sleeping arrangements, he didn't do so out of Victorian propriety – it would be ridiculous, not to mention hypocritical, to insist on keeping the couple apart now, after they'd already had several nights alone together. Honestly, it didn't bother him half as much as Tristan seemed to think, but they did have to consider the customs of Stormhold, of which Una had as yet said nothing. To be sure, there didn't seem to be as much value placed on legitimacy, for Tristan commanded respect solely by virtue of his blue blood, but suddenly they were no longer minor villagers from a small town; Tristan was royalty, already under constant scrutiny, and Dunstan preferred not to push any limits around here just yet.

That was what he told himself when speaking up against Oltran's original assumption. That was his justification for the formalities.

The truth, of course, was that he also wasn't comfortable sharing a room with Una. As he'd told Tristan, he did love her, but it was in a very distant, long-ago sort of way. He wasn't eighteen anymore; he wasn't flighty or impulsive – he was a gentleman, and he'd slept the last nights in his house on spare cushions because he wanted to. He wasn't ready to dive into a relationship the way they had last time.

Una, always calm, had never said anything. Whatever she thought or felt or wanted on those grounds was completely invisible to his eye. She simply agreed with his suggestion and sent the guards on their way, leading Yvaine into another room without saying a word to him. She'd smiled, though, and nodded pleasantly, so she wasn't hurt or upset...

Dunstan didn't know what to think. It had been a long time since he'd tried to understand women.

His thoughts were dragged back to the present when Tristan, who hadn't shared his father's room since he stopped being afraid of lightning, quirked a smile and asked, "Will you be reading me a bedtime story, too?"

He was answered by a snort of laughter. "Only if you go out to fetch our books," Dunstan retorted. "We kept Grimm's Fairy Tales, you know."

"Really?" asked Tristan, leaning back against the headboard. "Why that one? You said you'd sold most."

Dunstan shrugged. "Your mother wanted it," he answered. "She finds them fascinating, and thinks some might have somehow come from Stormhold."

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "I can't quite see Little Red Riding Hood living around here. What made her think that?"

"That candle of yours," explained his father, digging through a bag. "I told her it reminded me of the rhyme, and she asked to hear it. I must have repeated every children's song in Wall for her, and then we started talking about fairy tales."

"Rhyme?" asked Tristan, "What rhy–?" And then he remembered; his eyes lit up. "How many miles to Babylon," he murmured, "Three-score miles and ten. Can I get there by candle-light?"

"Yes, there and back again," chimed in his father, smiling, "If your heels are nimble and light..."

"You will get there by candle-light," they finished. Tristan looked awed. "I never realised," he said, shaking his head; "I just... never thought about it." Looking up, he asked, "You think it comes from the real candles?"

"Well, Yvaine did say her sister was here some four thousand years ago, and that is the time of Babylon." He shrugged, taking a seat on the bed. "It seems too convenient to be a coincidence. And if all those myths about dragons and hydras come from actual living creatures, why not magical candles?"

"It makes sense," agreed Tristan. "I wonder if all our old stories are about real people."

"I imagine time has changed or added to much of it," Dunstan said. "It's just..." He trailed off abruptly and shrugged.

Tristan tilted his head. "Just what, Father?"

Dunstan sighed, spreading his hands wide. "This is very strange for me, Tristan. You've spent a week here, but I... haven't. I've never seen people catch lightning or turn into animals. To me all this is abstract. Surreal."

"You've seen Yvaine."

"And she's a lovely girl, but if you hadn't told me, I'd think she was as human as we are." At Tristan's expression, he shook his head and assured, "I believe you. Of course I believe you. It just isn't quite real yet."

"I haven't seen any dragons either, Father."

"Apparently they've almost died out; no one has seen them for centuries."

Tristan cracked a small grin. "I can't say I'm sorry. I really don't like the idea of dealing with one of them."

"Neither do I," Dunstan said, "but I doubt that's going to happen. Your mother says that if there are any left they'll be living in caves far from civilization. They're too big not to be noticed."

"You know more than I do," Tristan complained lightly. "How did that happen?"

His father shrugged. "Packing is dull work; we needed something to talk about. Something other," he added teasingly, "than how you used to run around the house without any clothes on."

Tristan's eyes widened in horror. "You didn't...?"

Dunstan grinned wickedly. "I did."

Mortified, Tristan buried his head in his hands. "I was three years old!" he moaned. "I didn't know any better!"

With a fond chuckle, Dunstan ruffled his hair and said, "That's why you don't have to be ashamed. All children do things like that."

"Don't tell Yvaine," he begged, voice muffled by his hands.

"Not a word," promised Dunstan. "Your mother, on the other hand..." He grinned again. "Well, there's more I haven't told her... yet."

He was promptly hit by a pillow.

From above, in the peaceful stillness of night, Earth was always beautiful. Vast expanses of dark water sparkled in the moonlight, and across the land humans made their own twinkles; tiny specks of light were scattered over the world, shining in little golden bursts, almost an answer to the white glow of the stars.

For most sisters, it was a night like any other. Many of them were far from Earth, wandering the galaxy to see all the spectacular sights, occasionally meeting to sing and laugh together. Others stayed closer to their mother, gazing down at the quiet beauty below. The Moon herself was waning, winding down from the height of her glory and into the quiet lethargy of her monthly rest. She was never fully asleep, though, and even in her darkest phase was ready to catch and scold the younglings who stepped out of line.

There were some stars, however, who were not at peace. Little Celeste was still too young to understand why her favourite big sister wasn't coming home, and pouted loudly over the loss of her story-teller. Nomi, who strictly obeyed all their mother's orders, was sulking and complaining about how rude Yvaine had been to her, and Selena, an older, quieter star, was looking down from the heavens with sadness and no small amount of fear.

Selena was, as she had been for several nights now, intently focused on the tiny area of land where her sister had last been seen. At first she'd looked to the window where Yvaine and that human had been last time they talked, but on this night it was not only closed but dark, and it hadn't taken long to realise that the room was empty.

With only a vague idea of where they were going, Selena had spent hours patiently looking over various roads and towns in all directions, trying to remember just how far humans could travel in one day. It didn't help, of course, that she wouldn't see Yvaine unless the younger star just happened to be outside or near a window – and window facing south, at that – but she had to try. She had to talk to her sister, to tell her more about what she was getting into before it was too late to pull her away.

Of course, if Yvaine wasn't willing to listen, there was nothing she could do about it.

As it was, Selena was lucky; she had narrowed down the options to half a dozen inns, and was checking back on the right one when Yvaine decided to look outside. She was leaning on a windowsill, wrapped in a dark green cloak and frowning, thinking. She did nothing to attract the attention of her sisters, and to Selena's greeting she coldly replied, "Isn't Mother going to be angry that another of her good little girls is breaking the rules?"

"Probably," Selena agreed, trying to start this off diplomatically, "but that's not important right now. There are things I have to tell you."

"I agree," Yvaine said acidly. "Since you seem to be the expert, let's start with everything you know about our hearts, and what will happen to Tristan now that he has mine."

Selena was startled. She and Yvaine had never been the closest of friends, but they knew each other well enough that Selena could see past the other girl's hard mask and down to the real reason. "You haven't told him yet, have you?"

Yvaine merely glared. When it became obvious that she wasn't going to admit it, Selena sighed and began her answer. "You know I fell in love with a human while down there. His name was Talmor–" from below, Yvaine noticed her shine briefly dim "–and he was the third son of a farming family. His sister had magical talents; she was one of my best pupils. Tal came to my home to look after her while I taught them what I could. A few months later..."

"You fell in love," Yvaine supplied, her voice softening.

"We were married," Selena admitted. "It was a silly, impulsive thing to do, but I did love him, Yvaine. We were happy – for years, we were happy."

"What happened?"

"We kept on living," she said simply, "and everyone else started to die. We didn't realise what was happening until his brothers suddenly had grandchildren and Tal hadn't aged a day. He knew what I was, and we'd accepted that I'd outlive him, but he never thought he'd watch everyone he loved grow old and pass on. It changed him. You must understand, Yvaine, he wasn't a bad person. He loved his brothers as much as he loved me, and when they were gone... I just wasn't enough."

Yvaine was quiet, absorbing this. She hadn't realised Selena had been quite so hurt; in the thousands of years since her return, she'd never once mentioned a husband. Though it was sure to bring up more painful memories, Yvaine had to ask, "Then how did he die? If you loved each other and you shared your heart with him..."

"He stopped loving me," said Selena, and suddenly her voice was blank, void of emotion. "He closed his heart to me, and if love isn't shared, youth will not last long. He grew old. He left me." She paused a moment and added, "If things had happened differently, I'm sure he would have killed himself."

Yvaine flinched, unwillingly imagining – just as Selena hoped she might – a Tristan so twisted by age and grief that he, too, would see no other way to escape her.

"It's not the same for us," Yvaine said at last. "I'm going to tell Tristan about it now. He'll know what's going to happen. He'll be ready."

"You really think it's that simple?" scoffed her sister. "You really think he can change what he is? He's human, Yvaine; he was born to be mortal. Nothing you say or do is going to keep him the way he is now. He's not going to stay happily in love with you forever."

"One failed marriage doesn't prove anything. You don't know him, Selena."

"I know that humans can't be trusted. It's not just Talmor. Do you remember Lilith?"

Yvaine paused, taken by surprise. Lilith, she knew, was one of their many sisters, but not one she'd met recently. Millions of years younger than either Yvaine or Selena, she would barely be out of their mother's care. "Faintly," she answered. "I don't think I ever talked to her."

"You never will," Selena said. "She's dead."

That shocked her. There were very few things in the galaxy that could actually kill a star, and thanks to their mother's instruction, the sisters knew better than to be caught in them. The few deaths that had occurred were mourned intensely, and Yvaine could count them on her fingers. The most recent was Cirra, a red-haired girl who was murdered by witches after she accidentally fell to Earth four hundred years earlier. All the others had been lost to black holes or sudden cosmic explosions – Lilith was not among them.

"How?" asked Yvaine. "Why wasn't I told?"

Selena replied, "Mother and I decided that no one should know–"

"Why NOT?"

"Because we were afraid it might happen again!" Selena snapped. "Don't presume you know better than us, Yvaine – you weren't there! You don't realise what was at stake!"

"So tell me," she demanded. "Now."

Selena sighed, forcing herself to be calm. "After Talmor died I had no reason to stay on Earth. My pupils helped me create a magical candle and I came straight home. I told Mother everything, and she wanted to make absolutely sure that none of you would go through what I did. We considered letting everyone know all about it, but Lilith overheard what I told Mother and decided it would be fun to live on Earth for a while."

Yvaine's brow furrowed. "She fell?"

"Deliberately. Mother was furious, but Lilith didn't listen. She was very young, Yvaine – very young. She only heard what she wanted to hear, and ignored everything I'd said about the pain and the heartache. She had no idea what kind of danger she was getting into."

Starting to see where this was going, Yvaine said, "Someone went after her heart, didn't they?"

"Not just 'someone'. Witches. The same three witches who killed Cirra and almost killed you. They were her daughters."

Yvaine blinked – again. She stared, mouth hanging open in surprise. "...What?" she asked. "Her daughters? Lilith's daughters?"

"Yes. They were born mortal, of course, but extremely talented. They learned everything they could about magic from Lilith – everything I taught her," Selena added bitterly. "I was trying to make her come home. She wouldn't listen."

"She had a family," Yvaine defended, but it was half-hearted in the wake of such news. She had never known a star to have children – in all of history, it had never happened. For a brief moment she glowed, delighted. She could have children! It was possible!

"Not then she didn't," dismissed Selena, who either missed or ignored the sparkle. "They were born later, to three different fathers. Lilith never loved any of them, but she adored the children. She loved them enough to keep them alive for five hundred years – but then they changed, too. Just like Talmor."

"How so?"

"They stopped loving her. Maybe they were never capable of it in the first place, I don't know. All I know is that Lilith started asking about why they aged, looking for a way to save them, and one day she went inside and never came out again."

Pausing a moment, making sure her words were absolutely clear, Selena said, "They murdered their own mother."

Yvaine said nothing, burying her face in her hands and wept, grieving for the sister she'd never known. Such a thing was utterly alien to the stars, for although they knew humans were capable of anything, their stellar kinship was indescribably precious; they often argued, but they never dreamed of harming each other. It just didn't happen. The magnitude of such a crime was beyond reckoning – the witches had killed their mother and captured two of her sisters merely to steal the youth they would have had anyway if only they'd loved her back.

Belatedly, Yvaine realised she had killed her own niece. The thought made her sick to her stomach.

The silence went on for long minutes as Yvaine took it all in. She cried silently, smearing occasional tears off her cheeks, and slowly her grief subsided into cool anger. "You should have told us," she said at last. "Lilith deserves better than to be forgotten."

"We were afraid someone would try to avenge her death," Selena said reasonably. "Those witches were extremely powerful. We had no idea that any star could do what you did."

"You saw that?"

"Your shine burst out of every crack in that building," Selena said fondly. "It was hard not to."

Yvaine nodded, already dismissing the matter; her mind was on more important things. Again there was a silence, which lasted until Selena could no longer bear it.

"You do understand now, don't you?" she pleaded. "You see why you have to come home right now."

All the grief in the universe could not cool Yvaine's temper, and her head snapped up. Her fierce independence asserted itself. "No," she said firmly. "No, I don't. It's a horrible story and I wish I'd known sooner, but it doesn't change anything. I'm going to tell Tristan everything and it will be all right."

"You fool, Yvaine!" cried Selena. "Don't you understand? Humans are all the same. No matter what happens, you can't trust them!"

"Tristan loves me!"

"Of course he does. Humans are quick to love. I'm sure he'll hear your entire story and be just as happy as you hope for. But what will happen then, Yvaine? What happens in fifty years, or a hundred? In a thousand years, will he still love you?"

"Yes."

"You're wrong," declared her sister. "It won't last. Someday he is going to break your heart. It doesn't matter what he says now."

"You can't be sure of that," Yvaine argued, but her voice betrayed a tremor.

"Neither can you."

Minutes later, Yvaine stormed down the corridor, past the guards, and back into the room where Una slept on unaware. She forced herself to be quiet, but her mind was spinning with fury and fear, and a fierce determination to tell Tristan right away. Selena was wrong and it was going to be all right. It would be. It had to be.

With sharp, jerky movements that nearly woke her companion, Yvaine crawled back into bed.

She did not sleep.