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Marek, Mak to his friends, well he never thought much about Chayka. Not too much anyway; street kids, they're a dime a dozen, they come in various shapes and sizes, all a little dark under the eyes, some meaner than others, he knew from experience.
She was a grain under the wheel, human kid, perhaps too chirpy and cheerful for her own good. Got duped a couple times for being too trusting, but she still liked to trust. Never had the chance to learn music, but she still had the voice of a songbird.
And chatty, too chatty for Mak's liking that's for sure. Still, she knew how keep secrets like a tomb, and ran the Underduke's errands like the rest.
Mak took some time to teach her how to handle herself in a knife fight, even if she kept dreaming about studying magic.
Like that was ever going to happen.
And then, the elf. A tall fellow with long dark sideburns and even longer ears. Mak didn't know what to make of him, definitely seemed too old for his Chayka -8 years were just a blink for him and she was suddenly a young woman-, but hey, he was not her dad. Sure she was old enough to make her own decisions. Like dying bits of her hair the color of her eyes, piercing green. Like disappearing and reappearing with violet scars and sparks around the eyes.
Marek didn't know what to make of all that, but then again, it was none of his business. Street kids, they're a dime a dozen, and the ones that survive are bound to cut some corners.
But sometimes life throws you curveballs, doesn't it? You end up in a mindflayer ship, infected by some kind of disgusting worm, you crash through the planes, pick up some gorgeous company from the sandy beach you've landed on and then you find, out of the blue, that chirpy little street kid from almost 20 years ago, amidst the wreckage, trying to pull gods know what out a void vortex on a wall of rock.
"Chayka?"
"Mak!"
That little scare is enough; she turns so violently that a whole man comes through the purple whirlpool of magic. Whoever he is, he tries to speak, but Mak doesn't hear a word; Chayka is in his arms and has used the cant word for clan.
"What a shitty place to find you, kid." And he means it, he's sorry to hear that she's infected too, but he is also relieved. So relieved.
"Is that Wyll fucking Ravengard?"
It sure is. He vaguely remembered strutting around the fancier part of town, seizing up patriar houses to rob, when he saw the duke and his son make their way from wherever to who gives a fuck surrounded by flaming fist. Mak blended in with the shadows, and let a sigh of relief out when they were gone.
"I always thought he'd died," he admits.
Chayka smirks, "He's kinda cute."
He rolls his eyes, he reckons its a nice dream for an urchin, to be swept off her feet by a handsome prince of some sort, although he wonders if that sketchy elf fella from days past would have anything to say about it.
"Say Chayka, that fella with the sideburns you used to hang out with... he still around?"
Magic courses through her, eyes glowing bright. She smiles, charmingly confident, the picture of innocence, "He never left."
Marek understands.
Even so, when Mizora appears he has to ask again. What did you get yourself into and all that. The girl -the woman, he reminds himself- has no good answers. She even says so herself.
"If I tell you he's different you would not believe me. If I tell you he's done right by me... he's not working for Zariel, at least."
Of course not. But it's not like the Fey are any more trustworthy than devils, though he reckons it could be worse, and it's not like he's her father or anything so who is he to judge? Is making a deal with the fey really worse than slitting someone's throat? Makes one wonder.
The bear was a surprise, but really it shouldn't have been, because they were looking for a druid after all, and because a man on a torture rack admitted so. A poor sight, that boy, beaten in all the wrong places. Shadowheart surprises even herself when she notes the goblin's clumsy work; pain without precision, without purpose. Could've cut a little closer here, a little far there, it would've stung more.
The bear is a surprise for Mak, but not so much for Chayka, who puts the goblin children to sleep before confronting their elders. An urchin is an urchin, Mak reasons, and goblin children have numbers for names.
It's not strange that the old man takes a shine to his Chayka immediately, after all, she was first to speak to him, animal form and all. What Marek was not expecting was for the street kid to be so fascinated by this agent of the wilds. Perhaps it's the fey presence always over her shoulder. Perhaps he hasn't come to know her as he thinks.
When Halsin steps out of the portal holding Thaniel in his arms, Chayka is the first one to go to him. When Oliver wants to play, she sticks out her tongue at the his scowl. Even so, the archdruid comes back for more. Figures.
When they go to sleep, he is the second to last person she talks to. Mak is the last. They sit down, and he pours them a shot of whatever strong stuff they got lying around. They speak in cant to each other, brief sentences and simple gestures. Astarion scoffs and chuckles when he manages to overhear something.
Often now, he is glad that she's around. He would've let Shadowheart kill an angel if that's what she wanted, but he was glad that Chayka was there to ask the question. Because, Hells, Mak didn't want to kill a fucking angel. But he would've, for Shadowheart. If that's what it took.
"I don't want to waste any more time," says she -the forsaken, yet another orphan-, with a resolve he hadn't seen until now, and then, her lip trembles, her eyes darting past him, "unless... is Chayka...?"
A shiver runs down his spine. It almost feels wrong to think about it, "Fuck. No, I... gods, I watched that kid grow up."
A sudden realization clashes onto another. Want, tenderness, friendship, even, fucking love. Twofold, unfurling, no, cascading.
He holds Shadowheart close to his chest, like a treasure, "You're It to me. You."
He would've killed an angel, if that's what it took.
The street kid is now a grown woman of 27, in actions and words. Mischievous to be sure, but perhaps that's part of the charm. The druid must see it, because he tags along with their little troupe, and Mak is pretty sure he can't take the credit for it.
"He's too old for her," he complains one day, watching them speak.
Shadowheart's laughter fills the space, "You sound like concerned mother."
"Well it's not like she has one so..."
He startles himself. Shadowheart tuts.
"Halsin is a good sort. Let them figure it out."
She's right of course. Chayka is radiant, Halsin looks like a literal shadow has lifted from above him.
One day, Mak even sees Him, the elf with the long ears. A glimpse of him, really. A trail of laughter only as Chayka pulls them both out of view.
Halsin stands next to Mak, with a question at the tip of his tongue.
Mak brings a toothpick to his lips and pretends not to be nervous, "You know about 'im? The uh..."
"Patron, I believe is the common term, yes. Although I am not sure this bond is altogether that common."
"You're right about that. You wouldn't catch Wyll giggling with Mizora in a corner table like a pair of teens."
"Marek..."
Shit. Full name. Mak steels himself, "Huh?"
"Do you think-? Ah, never mind me. Chayka is a formidable woman, if she's content I..."
He trails off. Mak catches himself thinking that, to him, Chayka will always be that chatty little kid with no parents to speak of.
That's why he is a bit startled when she resurfaces, back from whatever hiding spot among the trees, 15 years older than his memories, grinning from ear to ear.
"Halsin," she begins, "Would you...? I'd like to introduce you to someone."
Introduce. A formal thing for a wild pair. Mak kicks himself. As far as trust goes, he's only gained a wicked grin from the dark corner of a dingy bar.
"Marek..."
It's her, eyes still red, a trail of tears still fresh.
"Kid..."
"You're coming, right? To get Halsin back."
"No question, I'm with you, kid." To the hells. He will always be there for his prodigal, he thinks, he'll kill a demon for her. He's going to. If that's what it takes.
He'll kill the spawn of Baahl and anyone who stands in his way. For his urchin.