Work Text:
Kitt sat on the dock, absentmindedly fishing as the sun slowly set. A bite, a fish in the barrel, a couple of coins. Just a few weeks ago he had pulled himself out of the sea and crawled onto this shore.
He had just lost his ship, his crew, his father, hell, even his fucking eye. It still throbbed underneath the bandage, phantom pains from the lunar bastard’s attack. He still thought about that night. What he wouldn’t give to watch that bastard die, if a god could die. What he wouldn’t give to have died in his father’s arms that night, if only to feel his warmth one last time.
He shivered as the sun disappeared over the horizon. Another bite, another fish in the barrel, another couple of coins.
It was a slow process, but he was nothing if not patient. The Moon Lord found his challenge amusing. Dead wouldn’t claim him early, no matter how “foolish” he was in his search for some semblance of justice. He had time. He had lives to give up, as many as necessary. And he had fish to catch, to sell, to hand over to a scrappy collector with handful of helpful gear.
Another bite, another fish in the barrel, another couple of coins.
In the morning he would head out in the forest, clear out that plot by the lake, and he would start his next project. A ship. A memorial. He had not good armor nor a decent weapon. He could barely even use the enchanted sword he happened to fish up. No, it wasn’t time for a fight. Not when he was still so weak, when he could barely remember his eye was branded with an ancient god’s curse, milky white and aching. Not yet.
The Moon Lord would die someday, he would make sure of it. But before that, he needed to lay to rest his ship, his crew, and his father. May their souls be guided home from the restless blue. He would honor them. For now, it was all he could do.
One last bite, one last fish in the barrel, and the last few couple of coins for the night. He packed up and stumbled off to his room where Asher was waiting, already in bed. He wordless watched as he changed into his sleepwear and crawled in next to him. It was routine at this point. Asher softly snored next to him, his breath tickled the back of his neck as he curled up against Kitt’s back. Maybe he would make his private quarters big enough for two. Just so he could keep the guide close. He ignored the warmth pooling in his chest and fell asleep to the sound of gentle breaths and the ocean’s lullaby.