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Life on the Shrouded Isles is full of daily tasks that most people don’t have to worry about. Everyday, Ashe wonders whether Kyr will destroy something vital today, or if the Prison of Lights and its darkness will become an immediate threat, or if Gregor will decide to take a swing at Charoth after dinner. Quite evenings knowing that at least two thirds of those worries are irrelevant to her are rare, treasured things in Ashe’s opinion.
The last quite evening in the bar was before the Nine Shrines, Adventures and Dines team left for Xincala. Now, several weeks after their return, Ashe leans against the counter of the bar considering the sparse larder for dinner. Charoth is on the floor in front of the counter playing with a handful of clumsily carved wooden figurines. Markus bursts into the bar with flair, notably alone.
“Hello!” Markus calls. He ruffles Charoth’s hair and leans against the bar in front of Ashe.
“Hi. Where’s everyone else?” Ashe asks warily.
“Thog’s waiting for a shipment at the docks, he won’t be back until late. Gregor and Zalvetta are at Dont’s, baking. Kyr is with Inien and I have no clue what they’re doing but whatever they break is Inien’s fault not mine.”
“Great,” Ashe replies sarcastically. “So, it’s just us for dinner tonight?”
“I think so.”
“Good, then I can cook those rabbits without Gregor looking at me like I’m a criminal.”
“Great! Shall I get a fire started then?”
“Yes, a cooking fire. Keep it ordinary and in the fire pit out back.”
Markus sighs dramatically.
“Yes, Ashe,” He says, striding to the backdoor of the bar.
Ashe begins prepping the food for the fire, but looks up when she hears a clatter. Charoth has removed his beak shaped mask and is attempting to lean it against the back wall. The mask clatters as it tips over again.
Ashe takes the mask before it can fall again. She kneels in front of the smaller spirit.
“Are you sure you want to take this off? Markus should be back any minute, little guy.” Ashe’s flick over to the door and back to the unmasked death god. Charoth's features are vaguely human other than his maroon, cat-like eyes and the short tusks poking up from his bottom jaw. Ashe is familiar with his appearance, as he often removes his mask when they’re alone. She has never seen Charoth remove his beaked disguise in anyone else’s presence.
Charoth nods firmly in response to Ashe’s question and returns to his toys. Ashe places the mask on the counter. She turns her focus back to skinning the rabbits and chopping the vegetables. With Gregor eating elsewhere the required volume of vegetables is greatly reduced.
Markus returns, raises an eyebrow at Charoth’s unmasked state, then looks to Ashe. She shrugs. Markus shrugs.
“Fire’s roaring and ready to go,” He says with a smile.
“Good. I’ve got the food; you bring Charoth out.” Ashe balances the platters of food with the skewers rolling precariously on top. Markus sweeps Charoth up dramatically, bouncing him slightly. Charoth gives a small smile before focusing back on the toy in his hand.
The fire looks as normal as any fire started by a half-demon ever does. Ashe has the food cooking in a few moments, and she turns to take Charoth back from Markus. She’s stopped by the sight of the two together.
Markus is playing with the small spirit, holding the horse-like figurine that Charoth had brought out. Markus makes goofy clip-clop noises as he bounces the toy through the air. Charoth is watching the antics with a closed-lip, but genuine, smile. The two look comfortable together.
For once, Ashe feels the desire to hug someone outside of a life and death situation. She hesitates before awkwardly wrapping her arms around both Markus and Charoth. Markus slides the arm not supporting Charoth out to return the hug, Charoth turns his smile to Ashe. Ashe ducks her head and feels Markus smile into her hair. The toy horse presses into her back awkwardly, but Ashe isn’t about to complain.
“Not that I’m not a fan of hugs from you, but the rabbits are getting rather crispy on that side.”
Ashe curses under breath, whirling back to the food. Markus chuckles and sets Charoth behind him. Markus and Ashe turn the skewers in silence. They settle back as the food continues to cook. Ashe glances about for Charoth, finding him looking through the grass along the tree line behind the bar.
“Careful, Charoth. Don’t wander off,” Ashe calls. Charoth gives a single slow nod in response, returning to watching something on the ground in front of him.
The food cooks. Ashe keeps one eye on Charoth, the other on the food, and Markus tends the fire while humming. Charoth begins following some sort of winding path through the grass.
“Charoth?” Ashe says, hands busy turning the pepper and potato filled skewers on the right side of the fire.
Markus stands and goes to see the source of Charoth’s strange pattern. He kneels next to the death god then smirks, hefting the child into his arms.
“Looking for the anthill are you? Well, I think I can help you with that. Superior height goes a long way,” Markus says scanning the ground. “Ah!”
Markus kneels down again, where Ashe assumes there must be an anthill, and starts to point toward something. He murmurs to Charoth animatedly, though Ashe can’t quite make out what he’s saying. Ashe smiles and starts to move the finished skewers off the fire.
“Food’s done,” Ashe says, summoning the half-demon and spirit-child from their entomology studies.
They eat fairly quickly as the sun starts to set behind the autumn colored trees. A chill settles in, causing Charoth, seated in Ashe’s lap to shiver. She scoots them closer to the fire and tugs Charoth’s cloak around him more tightly. The wind rustles through the trees, sending leaves spiraling to the ground.
Ashe watches the red sky shift to violet and doesn’t comment when Markus slides an arm about her shoulders. The last light is seeping below the forest when Ashe is reminded of the time by a soft snore from her lap. Charoth sleeps, happily cuddled in Ashe’s arms. Markus and Ashe snicker at his cuteness, then Ashe sighs.
“He needs to be put to bed,” Ashe says. Markus stands and offers a hand to help her up. Ashe gives him an incredulous look, standing on her own with Charoth in her arms. Markus shrugs.
They enter the bar, but Ashe hesitates to collect Charoth’s things. Markus watches as she stands awkwardly for a second.
“Ah…Could you help carry his stuff back to the tree? My hands are a bit full.”
Markus raises an eyebrow. Ashe could certainly juggle carrying Charoth and his belongings. Its not easy, but Ashe generally prefers the balancing act to losing her private home away from the bar.
“Sure?” Markus says, confused. He collects Charoth’s mask, toys, and staff. Ashe ducks her head as she leads him out of the bar.
Markus tries his best to keep up as Ashe weaves quickly through the forest. He doesn’t see the house until Ashe is swinging the door on the side of the tree open. Markus pauses in the doorway.
The house is a single room, roughly circular, carved out of the center of the huge tree. The floor shows the innumerable rings, as does the low table that rises from the center of the room. The fireplace on the far wall holds only half burned wood so Markus lights a low, maroon colored fire to illuminate the rest of the room. A small hammock hangs on the right, with a chest tucked underneath it. A cabinet stands to the left of the fireplace and on the left wall is a bed constructed of logs.
Ashe puts Charoth in the hammock and pulls the chest out. She swings it open quietly, taking the young spirit’s belongings from Markus and putting them away. When Ashe stands they find themselves in a tense silence.
“Perhaps I should—“
“You could stay.” Ashe interrupts.
“I could.”
“The bar has no beds, I’m sure it can’t comfortable. We’ve shared before…”
The pause spans eternity. Ashe eventually breaks.
“Or I suppose you can go back to the bar and maybe I’ll work on making the bar—“
“I’ll stay,” Markus says. “If you don’t mind.”
Ashe shakes her head.
“I don’t, obviously.”
And if Markus stops sleeping under the tables at the bar after that, no one comments.