Chotaikytsai sat at the fire with Tsouchm, watching the Lefeng, Kolchais, and Kyatchais talking by the gate. They were far enough away there was no way to hear what they were saying, but Chotaikytsai could see the shy smiles and shining eyes. The joy in Kyatchais’ hands.

With a smile of eir own, Chotaikytsai reached out to take Tsouchm’s hand. Eir skin looked nearly black against Chotaikytsai’s lighter brown, the difference caused by the years Tsouchm had spent working in the sun while Chotaikytsai wove. Chotaikytsai traced eir thumb across one of the darker spots that dotted Tsouchm’s hand and sighed at the young parents finally saying their goodnights. “To be young again, ey?”

Tsouchm squeezed eir hand. “We are young enough.”

“I have missed being married,” Chotaikytsai leaned against Tsouchm’s shoulder. Tsouchm stiffened under eir cheek, but relaxed after a moment. “But I’m not sure I know how to do this. Be married to just one person.”

Hesitantly, Tsouchm freed eir hand from Chotaiktysai to wrap it around eir shoulders. “You’re not sure?” ey snorted. “I don’t know the first thing about marriage.”

“Fair enough,” Chotaiktysai laughed. “It’s just… there’s no one else to turn to, we’ll only have each other. That’s a lot to ask, to be everything for you. For you to be everything for me. I don’t know if it’s possible.”

“Hm. At least we don’t need to worry about having children. We get to start as grandparents.”

“True.”

“Truth, my spouse-to-be, it’s being a grandparent that worries me more than being a spouse. I’ve known pairs among the familyless. It’s not common, but it happens, and those who choose it seem to do well enough together. But grandchildren? That is nothing I have seen or known.”

“You will do well,” Chotaikytsai smiled and sat up, to begin coiling Tsouchm’s hair about eir fingers. Chotaikytsai’s own hair was tightly curled, through not as tight as Kolchais’ coils. Tsouchm’s hair had such a loose curl it was almost wavey. “I’ve always wondered where this hair came from. I don’t know anyone else with hair like this.”

“Then you haven’t spent time at the docks.” Tsouchm chuckled. “Sailors from Chai have hair that is straight, like thread, with no curl at all. It is the strangest thing.” Ey shrugged, “My Cenn never said, but I think a sailor was part of eir circle for a time.”

“Ah.” Chotaikytsai smiled. “I like it.”

“I would hope so!” With a sigh, Tsouchm turned back to the gate. Kyatchais had left and Lefeng and Kolchais were slowly making their way back to the fire. Paiokp, their silent, hurting child, was no where to be seen.

“What really scares me,” Chotaiktysai murmured, “Is the politics. No matter how many council meetings I go to… I don’t think I’m getting anywhere.”

“You haven’t talked about this. Is it truly so bad?” Tshcoum asked.

“I don’t know!” Chotaikytsai picked up a twig and it threw into the softly burning coals. “I just… It is not well. I know that much. But how bad is it? No one talks to me, or acknowledges me. They act as if we don’t exist. And I don’t know how to… to create the current we need.”

Tsouchm pulled eir into a hug. “Tell me about it. I don’t know how much I know that can help, but at least you shouldn’t carry this alone. I can listen and support you, and maybe I will know something of these families you deal with.”

Chotaikytsai settled into eir arms. “Thank you. That… that will help.”

---

The next morning, Chotaikytsai took Chestef into the garden with em. It had long ago become a routine for them, Chestef carefully pulled weeds while Chotaiktysai looked for what was ripe enough to make into a morning meal. Chestef had been easy to teach. Ey had arrived already knowing the basics of how to tend a garden, but not entirely familiar with the plants. Chotaikytsai wondered sometimes about how the gardens of the fisherfolk had been different and would it ever be possible to acquire some of the plants Chestef remembered.

Something to ask of the farwalkers who were now distant-kin through Lefeng.

It has been years since Chotaikytsai has been around children, but ey did not remember them being as eager to please, as quick to heed, as Chestef. It worried em sometimes. Ey thought that perhaps Chestef feared this new family would one day disappear as eir old family had, and hoped to be ‘good enough’ ey wouldn’t be lost again.

Chotaikytsai wasn’t sure, because Chestef didn’t talk much about eir life before the great wave, reminding em of their silent-one who held so much in ey was in danger of stagnating.

Chestef tugged on eir tunic, interrupting eir thoughts. The child’s looked up at Chotaikytsai with wide eyes and offered a double handful of weeds for the grandparent to inspect. Chotaikytsai took the bundle with a smile. Ey sorted through the weeds quickly, naming them and separating those that could be eaten from those that were best dried and used as kindling. Ey named the plants as ey sorted them, and Chestef repeated the names in a clear, high voice.

Toward the bottom of the stack Chotaikytsai grimaced to find one of the plants infested with the little beetles that would eat holes through the redfruits and leave them rotting on the stalk.

“These,” ey showed the beetles to Chestef, “we need to find all of these and get them out of the garden.”

“I can do that!” the child said, and ran off into the rows to prove ey could be helpful.

Chotaikytsai was sure there would be not a single beetle in the garden by sundown. Ey pursed eir lips. It was worrying.

But, Chotaikytsai looked across the compound to where Kolchais watched awkwardly while Lefeng and Tsouchm levered roof beams into place, it was not eir first experience with a traumatized child. They would manage, ey and Tsouchm.

Together, they would manage.