#ashlander

Ku-vastei empties her claws of various plants and herbs onto Ashiri-khaan’s worktable, disrupting her partner’s work. “I have brought you these things,” Ku says, staring down at Ashiri intently.

Ashiri frowns and stops what she is doing. She carefully pinches each item between her forefinger and thumb, pulling them close to her eyes for inspection.

“This,” she says, inspecting a conical yellow flower, “is a kresh flower.”

“I know what it is,” Ku admits. “It is for you.”

“Perhaps you forget what portion of the kresh weed is alchemically useful - the resinous fibers from its stalks - and that chewing even that would not help you with your social skills, as perhaps you desire.”

“I am an alchemist, n’wah,” Ku retorts, puffing air from her nostrils. “I got it for you anyways.”

“So you waste my time with useless flowers?” Ashiri tosses the flower over her shoulder.

Ku-vastei hisses and plants her claws on the worktable. “I get it for you because it is like you. A weed that can still be beautiful.”

“I’m sure you understand no respecting florist would allow kresh flowers anywhere near a bouquet.”

“That is not -”

“And this,” Ashiri interrupts, lifting a quarter of luminous russula, “is useful, but not to you. And you bring me no slaughterfish scales to make it useful. So you bring me a smelly thing, deprived of usefulness.”

“It stinks but glows brightly at night,” Ku says, her claws digging into the chitin surface of the table.

“Not just at night, o talented alchemist.” Ashiri tosses the mushroom behind her as well, its faint glow almost leaving a trail through the dark hut. “It glows all the time, though noticeable only in dark spaces.”

“I know that! That is not the point!”

“And this,” Ashiri says to move on, lifting the final specimen, “is a full fire fern bloom. The first truly useful thing. But less useful without also frost salts, or even the more common black anther. Perhaps you are at least a half-talented alchemist -”

“It is because they are beautiful and grow in rough places!” shouts Ku-vastei, leaning her snarling face close to Ashiri’s. “They sprout from the ash like pregnant Masser! And the kresh flower is forgotten and discarded but nevertheless a flower! And the luminous russula helps to see into darkness and withstand the depths! They are all beautiful things even if rough around the edges! And you are such a s’wit to not see what they mean! Why I have given them to you! You are the most insufferable -”

Ashiri cuts her partner off this time by standing up, grabbing Ku’s face, and kissing her. Ku-vastei instinctively wraps her hands around Ashiri’s wrists tightly, but loosens her grip quickly.

Ashiri slowly pulls away, her fingers running down the scales of Ku’s neck. “You have given them to me because you love me. I know this. I am not so dense as I pretend.” She holds the fire fern petals between their lips. “And I know how difficult it is for you to admit it, even as strange gifts. And it is difficult for me as well. But know it true: I love you too.”

Ku stares at Ashiri for a spellbound moment, but then stands, her hands sliding to hold Ashiri’s in her own, laughing. “You are such a sappy old witch,” she says jubilantly.

Ashiri plops back down in her chair, stealing her hands back, looking away. “Says the s’wit who gave me flowers and a mushroom.”

“Be bashful then! I will leave you to your devices.” Ku turns to leave the yurt, and even with her back turned, Ashiri feels the smile on her partner’s face.

“Ku?” Ashiri calls as Ku stands under the curtain door. Ku turns her head back to see her. The mabrigash has picked up the kresh flower, now crumpled a bit after the russula fell on it, and is admiring it close to her face. “Thank you.”

Ku’s smile widens and she leaves, the curtain falling behind her, to go blossom in her own way.