Joy

Joy on the wing. Even hungry and thirsty being in the air with Charyic was joyful. Esus watched her learning to relax in the air, learning how to measure the beats of her wings. Once they crossed over into Arilel he took her down to a shallow pool close by the river that flowed down past Gaelel. He drank and watched her follow suit, then he stepped into the water and began to splash.

Her incredulous look made him want to laugh. Esus ducked his head and splashed again with his wings and she hopped clumsily toward him into the water. Charyic made a beautiful bird, if a plump one, in her condition. He wanted to tease her as she awkwardly tried to imitate the way he bathed. Afterward, she watched carefully as he preened and tried to emulate him, he helped her. She made soft chirrups as he preened and positioned her feathers. And when he had finished, Charyic nibbled and stroked the feathers around his face. It was not the first time the thought of simply remaining in this form occurred to him, but he had never wanted anything more in his life than he wanted it at this moment.

They needed to go further before sunset, and he reluctantly took up a grip on the staff again and watched as she tried to take off from the ground. It took her three tries. Once in the air, she was more confident than she had been the first time, but she did not go far from him.

Esus knew he could have made it to Gaelel if he flew into the night, instead, he chose to stay a short distance outside of the city. There was a safe place to make a camp, water, and he would catch a hare before he changed back. He took her there and dropped the staff. Charyic didn’t wait with it though, when he took off again, she followed watching him hunt. He almost felt embarrassed the first time he was unable to catch his prey, but hearing her approving cry as he managed the second one any embarrassment was forgotten.

The sun was setting as they returned to what would be their campsite and once it had finished Esus changed back and Charyic changed with him. She was grinning at him.

“You make a lovely bird, my beauty.” He grinned at her as he teased. “If a plump one.”

She laughed and he watched her reach for the staff, unwrapping the bag from it and pulling on his tunic before she answered him, while unwrapping his clothes. “A plump bird. And I was going to wax poetic about watching you hunt!” Her impish grin made him laugh.

Esus gathered wood and when he came back with his armload he found she had cleared a place for the fire. He lit it with a murmur and she handed him the rabbit expectantly.

“I am starved.” She looked at him hopefully.

“You have a knife, my beauty, you could have started preparing it.” He almost laughed at her helpless expression. “You can’t tell me you don’t know how to prepare a hare.”

“The only time I’ve prepared hare it was handed to me in chunks and I was told to put it in the stew.” She looked wistful and glanced around. “What goes in a stew? What does a potato plant look like?”

Charyic’s sulking look as he laughed to the point of tears only made Esus laugh harder. Finally getting himself back under control he wiped his eyes and asked, “Fetch me your knife, my beauty? I can show you what to do, but there will be no stew tonight.”

She looked queasy as she watched him skin and dress the hare, but she didn’t look away. And when he gave her a cut of the roasted meat, unseasoned as it was, she devoured it as if it were the best she had ever had. He started to chide her to leave something for breakfast as she picked up one of the legs but his eyes fell on her belly and he thought better of it. She needed to eat.

As she finished Esus looked at her pensively, “Have you thought of names?”

Charyic’s lips twisted and she rubbed her belly. “I have. Cerik for a boy,” she paused, “I wasn’t teasing him. What he did for us… Malav will kill him for it if he finds out. Naming my first born son after him is the least I can do.”

Esus smiled. “For a girl?”

He watched Charyic’s face as she stared into the fire. “I had a name for a girl, but I don’t want to use it anymore. I-I need a new one.”

He nodded, “What about your mother’s name?”

She laughed, “Ilsevel.”

He winced, “She was from Alaimel.”

“Yes. I thought my name gave that away?” She grinned at him.

“Charyic is a beautiful name, I thought perhaps she was fond of birds.” Esus smiled wryly.

“She was. My father stole her a grey moldase once. She kept it in a cote on the roof. She loved it and even let me help take care of it sometimes.” Charyic smiled into the middle distance of memory. “She named him Arnin.”

“What happened to him?” Esus asked curiously.

There was a heavy sigh, “He died.” Charyic stared into the fire. “She buried him with my brothers and sisters.”

Esus wanted to ask, instead, he waited. Charyic looked at him taking in his expression and sighed again, “When I was born my mother had lost four, all only hours or days after they were born. Father snatched me up, still bloody, and took me to the shrine of the King of Fools. He had stolen a whole purse full of gems from somewhere and he put them next to me at the King’s feet and said, ‘Just let her keep this one. That’s all I’ll ever ask.’” After she finished her story she sat looking into the fire with tears in her eyes rubbing her belly.

“My beauty.” Esus murmured and moved to join her, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her hair. He rested a hand on her rounded belly and she leaned against him.

“If it’s a girl, I could name her after you.” He heard the hopeful tentativeness in Charyic’s voice.

“I’d like that. But… how?” He was curious.

She rewarded him with a soft laugh, “Esyil.”

Esus kissed her hair again and then bent to kiss her belly, “Esyil. I like that.” The look on her face as he straightened took him by surprise. Adoring. He caressed her face and risked a kiss. She dropped the staff to embrace him, returning it with an exuberance he hadn’t dared to hope for.

Author's Note

I would really love some honest opinions on this chapter. I'm not sure if I've packed too much into it or if it just comes off as too-too.