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Being in the shop always cheered Aska. It made him feel like he was being actively useful, more than the just passive usefulness he experienced when he just kept living and being a font of life energy or whatever for Althai. He traced his fingers over the gem; it had been not quite six months. Not quite five since he'd met Whisteria, not quite three since she'd told him of her pregnancy. He didn't know how long elvish pregnancies lasted, but he was hopeful, almost, that he'd be there to see his child born. Imagining what the baby would be like occupied most of his time not spent thinking of Whist or talking with Althai; he didn't know what the God was thinking, telling him to pick up the sword. Learning any weapon would be an exercise in futility, and learning to heal, well. It wasn't like Althai would lack for power or talent.

Still, he wondered. Would the baby take more after him, or after Whist? He imagined the child with lilac hair and pale skin, with dark hair over smooth violet--he smiled and shook his head. If it was meant to be, he'd see the baby soon enough. Months, not years.

He didn't knock on the door; he knew Whisteria would be home, unless a customer kept her late, but even then he trusted her to inform him somehow. She was considerate that way, usually. And he was pleased to see her dozing off on the couch, as expected; he smiled, stooped to kiss her forehead, and proceeded to the kitchen. Cooking, that was a thing he could do.

Swords. Hah.

Aska could have told her she was sleeping for two, or that he didn't want to wake her, and while both of these things were true both implied that he thought he knew better than Whist. This would not be a good thing to imply; that was a lesson he'd learned young, long before he knew what night elves or gods were. Nobody, male or female, likes to be told another person knows better than they do. "I knew," he agreed, looking over his shoulder.

She really was lovely. He smiled at her and looked back to the sink; two entire mugs populated it. Damn, but he'd been getting sloppy, hadn't he? There was a time when those mugs wouldn't have even made contact with the bottom of the sink.

"How are you feeling, Whist?"

All of those things were good things, and he was pleased to hear them. He smiled, turning his head to kiss the top of hers; Aska leaned forward a bit to wash the dishes, dark curls falling in his eyes. He needed a haircut. He needed a whole lot of things, but haircuts were manageable, they weren't exactly life-changing decisions. "Missed you, too," he said, setting the mugs in the dish rack when they were suitably clean. After he dried his hands, he took Whisteria's hands gently in his, untangling himself so he could collect the things he needed to cook dinner. "How was everything at the shop?" Usually she had a few interesting stories to tell, and they were things he delighted in hearing, since his requests and commissions were often much more mundane than hers.

Whist only had one brother-in-law. He was a god. Aska laughed at the idea of Xun Jiang as a human, and then realized it probably wasn't meant to be funny. He shrugged, grinned at Whisteria, and said, "So I guess that was a fun oops?" He couldn't imagine that Xun would have been too put out. He seemed like a chill dragon god of something or other.

"What is it," he asked, curiously.

She rolled her fingers back from the rings, and Aska stared at them for a moment, then looked back to her face. Did she know what rings like that meant in his culture? Had he ever explained to her what shared rings would have meant to him, personally?

Evidently he hadn't, and he didn't need to. He was sure she didn't intend the hammer-smash of guilt that came with what she said to him, and though he knew he'd failed to conceal the momentary flash of hurt he smiled, just after, and put his hand over the rings. "If that's what you want," he said, "nothing would make me happier."

It didn't hurt him to give her this. He wanted it, even, so it was better than not hurting; but he worried that in the end it'd hurt her more than it helped.

He'd only have died before her, anyway, he thought, and he slipped the smaller ring onto her finger and said, "I love you, too." It was something she really ought to know, he thought.