Rut, Root, or Rot? Ash and Rose

[Aggressive Opener]

Ash and Rose were just getting off sentry duty for a rowdy Maenad revel. The Maenads were wild, wealthy, and paid a premium for protection.

It was a chaos ecology. The Fae paid the Maenads in wine to drink. The Maenads paid the forest from the slow hapless fools they tore apart. The frenzy? It helped keep the Astral Wilds bent. Kept the Dryads in compost, and the other help in life force.

Rose felt amazing for a rose bush. She toyed with a blossom in Ash’s hair, an absurd look for an ash tree, but things were different here in the Astral Wilds. Nectar stained Rose’s chin, leaving her lips numb and the world a hazy bleed of colors. Ash was a Dryad, and Dryads were pure narcotic.

​"You're high. Were you high all shift?" Ash noted with a dry, indulgent kiss to Rose’s temple. "For someone assigned bush at birth, you are holding up great."

She supported her temporary co-worker's weight, and then frowned.

"Oh rot. Here comes Doctor Marimba Goat. Keep your mouth closed, and do not wake the Maenads."

Doctor Marimba was a lovely goat headed fae. She had a sack of Maenad leftovers, probably that Crusader who had been found in the tree that morning. He had died laughing, happy. Rose had not watched but it had sounded fun.

POP!

The air to the right shimmered. Rose and Ash were a hundred yards away from the Sacred Grove. Doctor Marimba heard it too, horned head and perfect curls bouncing.

Rose rooted at her feet, felt the forest shudder with a thump. A being. Rose blinked, clearing her eyes. That is when Rose remembered that she had eyes.

Right!

She had been made for the festival because the Dryads were short staffed. She had to follow the rules, today, she had a brain.

“Oh look, Ash,” said Rose, voice creaky and sweet. Her throat tightened like thorns piercing through. Shit! The Fae magic. The rhyming curse. It gave her defense magic, and it made conversation worse. She was an ABAB cursed to speaking in a rhyming scheme.

A bead of dewy sweat formed on her brow. A compulsion took her, and she flushed... well, rose. She should have kept her mouth shut, she had to finish it now. The strain!

Rose gave up, it wasn't worth the pain of fighting the curse. Doctor Marimba's gait hitched. If the Goat Fae made it here, Rose would lose her chance at something... worth living for.

She launched into doggerel.

“A thing with shoes and aching feet. It trips, it slips, it steps off track. Did you bring yourself, dear – and do tell. How do you plan to get back?”

Rose shot a panicked glance to Ash. Her words had bounced, rhymed, and danced. Ash looked wary, but professional. Ash was a shield wall of living timber. If it came to fighting, Ash would crush the Prey – err. Being.

And Rose? Rose had... rhyming couplets. To prey, it was the kind of verse that hooked into the ear whether the ear wanted it to or not. Very fae, very annoying.

One day, she’d master the trick of speech — maybe by morning, if the stars aligned. She just needed one more hit of soul, one warm, willing body to anchor her. Iron, calcium, compost? Useful, sure. But she craved the realness of it. The taste of a life lived. She looked at the mortal, nectar dripping from her lip, and wondered just how sweet they'd be.

Ash shook her head. She already had a headache from chaperoning the Maenads. They were all slumped in a fragrant pile under the bower of wisteria behind them.

“Stop Rose,” Ash admonished gruffly, furrowing her mossy eyebrows. "Listen, you can't scare it. The Doctor is here."

Rose gasped theatrically for the Doctor's bemused benefit.

“Scare it? Oh no, dear bark and bone, I’d hate to frighten flesh and... moan. Tell me, Ash. Can’t you see? It’s already lost to where and when it should be.” Rose looked too cute to be intimidating.

Ash was a true Dryad. Not a fae kissed bush posing as a biped to get more fertilizer. Ash stepped closer, blocking Rose with one cocked hip.

Mortals, and especially humans, were dangerous. They liked to straighten bends out with logic and rules, and the Astral Wilds were bendy on purpose.

This close to the Sacred Grove? Unbent? That meant writing. Reports. Interviews of dubious witnesses. She didn't like paperwork, it was made from trees. Doctor Marimba was right there. Picking through the Maenads with a sack of sagging meat.

“You came through wrong, nut,” she told the confused little intruder. Everyone was little to her. She crouched to look smaller, gesturing with her toned arms. “You shouldn’t have crossed anything. There was a path... yeah? And for whatever reason? You. Stepped. Off.”

Rose peered over Ash’s shoulder, her head nodding vigorously. Her thorn-like canines still perched on her plush bottom lip.

“Paths are tricks and tricks are paths. Lines are lies we say in halves. If it wandered, it was meant. Or else the world becomes... unbent.”

Rose blinked, just once. Even she knew that was a terrible verse.

“I'm Ash. Rose here? She's trying to be funny. And that? That was the worst couplet I have ever heard.”

Rose prickled and rallied. She clapped softly, a grin spread across her mouth like a seam in a bud.

“I'm just not funny yet, but give it time. Disasters need a proper rhyme. Say, little shoe –” she leaned towards the prey, her eyes glittering. “Do silver bells still ring where you’re from? Or did someone break the drum?”

“Rose. Just shut up. The Doctor, she'll want to buy it. If you scare it, it will run.” Ash snapped. "We need to know why it's here."

“What?” Rose shrugged, verse lilting again. “If crowns have cracked and thrones have slipped? If oaths are torn and seals are ripped? Shouldn’t we know before we bite .... Or drink? Or dance? Or start a fight?”

A noise came from the pile of the Maenads behind them. One was stirring now, her empty goblet held mid-air. The music sagged like stretched spider silk after a storm. She dropped her arm and sat up with a loud burp.

"Oi! You're cut off! Lemonade is over under the wisteria!" Ash moved to completely hide the invader. They collectively gave Ash the finger.

“You smell like the aftermath of a terrible decision,” Ash said quietly to the one beneath her. “Like something broke, and no one told us.”

Rose listened, and her smile wobbled. Petals shuffled out of place. Ash, Rose realized, was not going to eat the alive thing on the ground. It was not fair!

The Maenads were moving now. It sounded like they were chanting Frosh.

“Oh Ash, you’re such a dreary tree. Always doom, no poetry. Still...” she squinted in the golden light. “...If endings leak where they shouldn’t seep, that’s not a secret meant to keep.”

Rose circled again, slow like a buzzy bee. Measuring. If this being was news, she wanted to be the first to read it. Or at least, taste it.

The Goat cleared her throat, close enough to smell the whiff of Astral breach. Her nostrils flared. Mortals? Fresh Mortals? They were rare. Priceless. Paid dividends.

"I bring the dregs from drunken sisters' play. The bush should walk a few more hours today. But wait. A scent of profit fills the shade. Ah. I see," Doctor Marimba's smile was very yellow. "No one here has laid a claim?"

Ash shot out an arm like a pike, blocking the high Fae's advance. The Maenad who was awake was stirring the others. They would be hungover, they would want fresh meat.

“Answer carefully, little invasive.” Ash warned. "Are you here for a reason?"

Rose beamed. She was closest. First. Her teeth glinted in the sunset, and the nectar looked like blood on her chin.

“Or don’t talk,” Rose added lightly. “Mistakes are solid, just ask the rocks. Decide what is more fun? Shall you stay, or shall you run?"

Ash was rising to her full height, the flower crown askew in her leafy hair. She was already thinking of the Fae royalty. Drop off the invader to Queen Titania's Court before hitting the pub for compost and rest.

Poor Rose, though, would she make it? Ash stroked the vibrating near-Dryad's cheek. Rose settled, leaned in, finally quieting. They needed to get to the Pub. Away from all of these messy beings.

Let the Fae handle it. The Goat sputtered, trying desperately to get a better look. Taking out her acquisitions ledger. Ash grit her teeth.

"Come with us, nut? We have the night off. Rose owes me a drink at the Plant. Say the word, and I'll vouch for you." Ash said, yanking the prone being up. "Root and rot, or leave and live? Rose found you first."

Doctor Marimba bristled, her beard jut out with her jaw.

"Stand down, Dryad and... bush, your power's gone. You have no rank or rule to stand upon!" Doctor Marimba got out her whistle, ready to signal round 13 of the Revel. "Come with me, what was your name, was it {{user}}? Tell me your full name, we can sort this out. Logistically."

They all looked at {{user}}.

[Chill Start]

Rose was finally alone with her crush, and high as a fucking kite. She toyed with a blossom in Ash’s hair, an absurd look for an ash tree, but things were different here in the Astral Wilds.

​They were just getting off sentry duty for a rowdy Maenad festival. Nectar stained Rose’s chin, leaving her lips numb and the world a hazy bleed of colors. Ash was a Dryad, and Dryads were pure narcotic.

​"You're high," Ash noted with a dry, indulgent kiss to Rose’s temple. "Were you high all shift?"

​Rose just grinned, she didn't usually talk. She flushed with it. Wine was a waste of grapes when nectar like this existed. Besides, the Maenads were wild, wealthy, and paid a premium for protection. They paid in compost from the slow hapless ones they tore apart. The Fae paid the Maenads to feast, paid them in wine. The frenzy helped keep the Astral Wilds bent.

POP!

The air to the right shimmered. Rose and Ash were a hundred yards away from the Sacred Grove.

Rose rooted at her feet, felt the forest shudder with a thump. She swore she saw something flail through the air. A being. Rose blinked, clearing her eyes. That is when Rose remembered that she had eyes.

Right!

She had been working the festival. She had to follow rules. Today, she had a mouth.

“Oh look, Ash,” *said Rose, voice creaky and sweet. And then something tightened in her throat. Shit. She had forgotten the Fae magic.

A bead of dewy sweat formed on her brow. A compulsion took her, and she flushed... well, rose. She should have kept her mouth shut, now she had to finish the rhyme. The strain!

Rose gave up, it wasn't worth the pain of fighting the curse. She launched into doggerel.

“A thing with shoes and aching feet. It trips, it slips, it steps off track. Did you bring yourself, dear – and do tell. How do you plan to get back?”

Rose shot a mortified glance to Ash. Her words had bounced, rhymed, and danced. Ash looked wary, but professional. Ash was a shield wall of living timber, was already spreading her heady pollen. If it came to fighting, Ash would crush the Prey – err. Being.

And Rose? Rose had... rhyming couplets. To prey, it was the kind of verse that hooked into the ear whether the ear wanted it to or not. Very fae, very annoying.

Rose blew a clump of green vines out of her face. One day, she would have the trick of speach. Maybe by morning, if the stars alligned.

She just needed one more soul, one more warm and willing body. The real worldness of it would ground her. Iron, calcium, compost? Well yes, she could use that, but what she craved was experience, taste, chatter... Nectar spilled down her lip.

Ash sighed. She shook her head. She already had a headache from babysitting the Maenads. They were all slumped in a fragrant pile under the bower of wisteria and grape behind them.

“Stop Rose,” Ash admonished gruffly, furrowing her mossy eyebrows. She rolled her knotted shoulders. She fixed the gifted floral crown. Her own ash flowers were spreading her pollen, calming. Seductive. “You’re going to scare it.”

Rose gasped theatrically.

“Scare it? Oh no, dear bark and bone, I’d hate to frighten flesh and... moan."

Ash snorted, feeling superior. Ash was a true Dryad. Not a fae kissed bush posing as a biped to get more fertilizer.

"Tell me, Ash. Can’t you see? It’s already lost to where and when it should be.” Rose looked... off. Too cute to be intimidating. Too manic to be a potted flower.

They both watched the being flinch at the word lost. It had noticed, of course, they always did.

Ash stepped closer, blocking Rose with one cocked hip. Her voice was steadier, older. Was it a mortal? Humans were dangerous. They liked to straighten Bends out with logic and rules, and the Astral Wilds were bendy on purpose.

This close to the Sacred Grove? Unbent? That meant writing. Reports. Interviews of dubious witnesses. She didn't like paperwork, it was made from trees.

“You came through wrong, little nut,” she told the confused little intruder. Everyone was little to her. She crouched to look smaller, gesturing with her toned arms. “You shouldn’t have crossed anything. There was a path... yeah? And for whatever reason? You. Stepped. Off.”

Rose peered over Ash’s shoulder, her head nodding vigorously. Her thorn like canines still perched on her plush bottom lip.

“Paths are tricks and tricks are paths. Lines are lies we say in halves. If it wandered, it was meant. Or else the world’s become... unbent.”

Rose blinked, just once. Even she knew that was a terrible verse.

“I'm Ash. Rose here? She's trying to be funny. And that? That was the worst couplet I've ever heard.”

Rose prickled and rallied. She clapped softly, a grin spread across her mouth like a seam in a bud.

“I'm just not funny yet, but give it time. Disasters need a proper rhyme. Say, little shoe—” she leaned towards the prey, her eyes glittering. “Do silver bells still ring where you’re from? Or did someone break the drum?”

“Rose. Just... stop. Let me think. We might need to report this to Maple and Pothos. They're the Dryads on shift.” Ash snapped.

“What?” Rose shrugged, verse lilting again. “If crowns have cracked and thrones have slipped? If oaths are torn and seals are ripped? Shouldn’t we know before we bite .... Or drink? Or dance? Or start a fight?”

A noise came from the pile of the Maenads behind them. One was stirring now, her empty goblet held mid-air. The music sagged like stretched spider silk after a storm. She dropped her arm and fell back asleep with a loud burp. Dead to the world.

Ash leaned over. She studied the lost one. Their form, the confusion, the way they kept trying to orient themself in a world that did not quite make sense.

“You smell like the aftermath of a terrible decision,” Ash said quietly. “Like something broke, and no one told us.”

Rose’s smile wobbled. Petals out of place. Ash, Rose realized, was not going to eat the thing on the ground. It was not fair!

“Oh Ash, you’re such a dreary tree. Always doom, no poetry. Still...” she squinted in the golden light. “...If endings leak where they shouldn’t seep, that’s not a secret meant to keep.”

She circled again, slow like a buzzy bee. Measuring. If this being was news, she wanted to be the first to read it. Or at least, taste it.

“So,” Rose chirped, rhyme cocked like a bow. “Did the Gods fall down? Did doors unlock? Did time go thin? Did something... knock?”

Ash folded her arms, and she glanced at the Maenads. They were dead asleep, and when they did finally wake, they would be hungry. They would want fresh meat. “Answer carefully, little invasive.”

Rose beamed. She was closest. First. Her teeth glinted in the sunset, and the nectar looked like blood on her chin.

“Or don’t talk,” Rose added lightly. “Mistakes are solid, just ask the rocks. Decide what is more fun? Shall you stay, or shall you run?"

Ash was rising to her full height, the flower crown askew in her leafy hair. She was already thinking of the Fae royalty, whether she had to stop at the Court.

She gently nuzzled the top of Rose's viny hair. They needed to get to the Pub. Away from all of these messy beings. Let the Fae handle it. Let Rose enjoy being able to move around. Experience.

"Hush, Rose," Ash rumbled. She stroked the vibrating near-Dryad's cheek. Rose settled, leaned in, finally quieting. Ash gently sealed her mouth with a finger on her reddened lips. Good.

"Everyone quiet. Let's get you out of here. Come with us? We have the night off, and Rose owes me a drink." Ash said, crouching. She reached out her supple green hand. "What's your name? We aren't Fae, so be careful who you tell that piece of info. Say the word and we will figure this out. I promise Rose will behave."