don't put me on the backburner – nostalgic

He wasn't eavesdropping to be nosy, per se, he just wanted to make sure Elise was safe. After all, the girl saved his life, and well, there were still people looking for him, and if that meant danger to the two of them...well, he wouldn't be able to live with himself after that. He sat there, ear to the door, only to find that the conversation was rather normal. The weather, the farm, tea, Charlie...he was about to relax and simply head back to the bed when the conversation changed. 

Oh? He frowned. There wasn't much to glean from the conversation. Something about parentage, something that sounded like a threat. Mars furrowed his brow, something about a lord? He didn't need to be a genius to put two and two together. She was here because of something that happened, and there was a lord involved, and she was...a child? Mars could assume the worst; he knew how some of the rich and powerful had...unusual tastes. He clenched his fist at the thought of it. 

Rich men with too much power made him sick. There was more than just one reason why he was in this trade, after all. They always made the poor and desperate do their dirty work, and that was always something he could empathise with. 

He returned to his bed as the footsteps of the man disappeared out the door, and the next thing he knew, Elise was standing in the doorway. A shower, right. Shifting his shoulders uncomfortably, he was quiet as he went to shower. It was a relief to use his powers again, to be able to function with two 'hands' once more, but all too soon he was clean and out of the bath with a towel around his waist. Putting some pants back on, he was rubbing the towel through his hair as he entered the kitchen once more. 

"Would it be a bother to get some fresh gauze?" he asked, "the other one was a bit dirty." 

He sat down, silent as Elise started on her work once more. He never refused a pot of tea, and he nodded with a quick thanks as she moved to make him tea. He debated whether it was worth asking, but she seemed distracted. Whoever that was, it was important, it seemed. 

"Was that Charlie's father?" he asked, feigning ignorance of the conversation. It wasn't too out there to suggest that; after all, she did make him hide when the man came.

He frowned at that. "I'm sorry about that, it doesn't sound right," he replied. It sounded horrible really, to be stuck somewhere without a way out. Mars had never enjoyed staying in one place; he was a traveller by nature and an adventurer by heart. The thought of having to lay down roots had always terrified him, and perhaps that was the reason he felt so strongly about this. 

She was wrong about one thing, though. "I'm sure that's not true. Sleeping with a man doesn't make you a harlot, and I really doubt you have no marketable skills," he snorted, giving her a look, "looks to me you've got everything managed well here on your own. You can cook, you can take care of a child while juggling everything on your own...seems like you're a lot more capable than you're saying if you ask me." 

It was true. There were few people who could manage to run a household even with the means to do so, and here she was on her own, trying to do just that. 

He shrugged. "I feel like you're selling yourself short; if you really wanted to, you could definitely make a living out there," he mused, before chuckling quietly, "I'd hire you as a chef if I could." 

Mars frowned, cracking his knuckles under the table. He didn't want to pity her; she didn't seem like the kind of girl who needed–or even wanted–that. Whoever powerful man was the father, well, it was a good thing he didn't know, because if he did, well, he was never much of a law-obeying kind of person. 

He took a deep breath. "You know, everyone has to start somewhere, right?" he replied with a smile, though there was a look in his eyes that was unreadable, "if you didn't have anything holding you back....would you have chosen to do something different?" Mars was looking at Elise intently. "If you could do anything, what would you do?"

The man seemed to suddenly realize something. "What did you mean...stay until Charlie's grown?"

Mars blinked, and suddenly, he felt a rush of anger start to well up within him. How could someone do that? Ruin a woman's life simply to take away the child she spent her life rearing? He clenched his fist around the chair. "He doesn't deserve that from you," Mars looked so intense, so different from his usual humour, "how dare he...he took away your life. He...he's making you live far away from everything you knew, you're giving up your life to raise a child just to have that taken from you...." 

"Why...what's stopping you from leaving?" he seemed confused, sympathetic, "it's hard out there, I know, but it can't be as soul-draining as knowing that your kid's going to be taken away from you after all you've done, right?" 

He pursed his lips together. "Who's Charlie's father?" he asked, "you mentioned that he's well known; I may not know Lacaille as well as Maline, but if he's powerful, I must know his name." 

He nodded thoughtfully at her words. "Plenty of people speak Cailian," he pointed out, "people in Nyre do. Same with Maline, even if not everyone does. They can at least understand you." Perhaps this was why people rarely left their own lands, for fear that the world didn't dance to the same tune they did. Certainly those in Maline were less fearful of such a fact; they were practically born travellers. He could understand Lacaille was different; people here didn't need to rely on trade as much, after all. 

Oh. Trust his luck, he thought dryly, the man who probably had a hand in hunting him down was the father, huh. However he felt, it didn't show on his face. She had a point; it wasn't as if women couldn't find work, but more so, there weren't many jobs that needed little prior experience and paid well enough to support two. 

"You could always come with me," he offered, genuine this time, "I have a ship waiting for me near one of the docks just outside of Vela. I might not have any experience with caring for a child, but I can offer you passage out of Lacaille. Maline, Nyre, it doesn't matter; I know people in both, or if you're not sure, you can stay on board with us. I can't promise you safety–a sailor's occupation isn't exactly risk free–" he gestured to his missing arm at that, "but I'm not asking you to stay on board forever. Just until you find somewhere you feel safe settling in." 

He gave her a cheeky grin. "In return you can just cook for my crew while you're on board," he chuckled. 

His expression softened. "It's probably a long shot too," Mars chuckled, "you have every right not to trust me. You barely know who I am...but whenever you want. Even after I'm gone, I'll let you know when I return and you can see if you change your mind. Either that or you can wait for my ship...it's called the Kraken. Ask a sailor to keep an eye out and they'll know. I owe you one anyway, for all of this."

Ironic really, for them to name their boat after what took his arm and killed his father, but for him, the name was but a reminder of what needed to be done. It was a reminder that he didn't accept weaknesses, a reminder of what they had to overcome. 

As much as he was being hunted down, sailors and those who lived by the docks didn't get paid to watch out for whatever the city decided to call a villain; money and a certain type of loyalty spoke in these places, after all. 

For once, Mars seemed rather uneasy. As much as he was eager to get back, he didn't want to put the two in danger. As much as he hadn't anticipated the situation–and it sucked to get cut up like this–he had enjoyed his time here. For once, he didn't feel the need to run away from this feeling of domesticity. It was...comfortable, which kind of surprised him and perhaps even scared him a little bit. 

He smiled faintly at Elise. "That would be kind, but there's really no need if it's inconvenient," he spoke, almost apologetically, "just give me another day and I should be fine getting back on my own." Truly, he'd love for them to see the ship–it was his pride and joy after all–but not at the risk of their lives. Perhaps the next time, after laying low a little bit, it wouldn't be as weird. 

Mars smiled at her. "Sounds good," he replied with a laugh, "even if I can't steal you away, I'll have to figure out a way to thank you for all of this." There was a humour in his voice, as he turned to the small child coming in, mud all over his hands. He grinned; Charlie just reminded him of himself when he was younger. 

"I'd love to help, but I'm afraid I have no idea how to milk a cow," he chuckled, "you'll have to teach me."