There were dishes scattered about the counter and dirty laundry on the floor. Brady stooped to collect a pair of underwear that had made it all the way from the bedroom to the kitchen. From this angle he saw, amid the dust collecting in the corners, the fattest spider he had ever seen. He swallowed the gasp in his throat before it could sound and stepped into the den.

Owain was slouched in a chair, bent over a blade to mend. He glanced up at the shadow that had claimed his light. "Who goes there?" he greeted. Brady stewed over how to respond a little too long, and Owain sat upright. "Is... something wrong?"

Brady tossed the underwear at Owain's face. "Ain't these yours?"

Owain grabbed them and dropped them on the arm of his chair.

"They were in the kitchen," Brady grumbled, "again."

"Oh, sorry," Owain chuckled.

"You've been here, right here, all day," Brady said. He shook his head at the mess. "We got cobwebs in the kitchen, cups everywhere, laundry spillin' out the bedroom door... Would it kill ya to clean up a little?"

Owain clutched his chest in one hand and reached out with the other.

"I mean it," Brady spat before Owain could offer him any melodramatic spiel. "I'm tired 'a doin' it all myself."

"Okay, okay," Owain conceded, crossing his arms in a huff, "I'll try and pick up a little more."

"Right now," Brady said.

"Now?" Owain whined. "Why now?"

"I got nothin' to make for dinner; I gotta go to market or we're not havin' it," Brady said. "And I want a kitchen I can cook in when I get back."

Owain slouched over the blade again before picking himself up and putting it away. Assured that he had been taken seriously, Brady kissed the corner of Owain's mouth and set out.

Home in sight, Brady adjusted his hold on the grocery bag and took a deep breath. He had left well over an hour ago, ample time for Owain to clean. "Don't get upset if all he's done is picked up a little," he muttered to himself. "It's more than nothin'."

Brady closed his eyes as he opened the door and stepped inside. When he opened them, his jaw dropped. The dishes were done. The floor was swept. Even the breadcrumbs and drops of honey from breakfast had been wiped clean off the table. Brady set down the grocery bag and ventured farther inside.

"Fear the wrath of my dust buster!" Brady heard from the den. "My grime vanquisher! No mere arachnid shall stop me; no pile of laundry is too tall, for I am Owain Dark, Avenging Avenger of Justice! And Order and Cleanliness!"

Brady found Owain standing, broom held triumphantly before him, wearing Maribelle's frilly pink apron. Brady smirked. He leaned against the frame joining the kitchen and den and waited. Owain turned, a gleam in his eyes, but stopped dead at the sight of Brady behind him.

"Well, shit," Brady remarked, "I didn't mean the whole place. For once, the Avenging Avenger of Justice exceeded expectations."

Owain grinned sheepishly, scratching at his nose to discreetly cover his face. "Does this mean we'll have more time after dinner for, uh..." He glanced to the bedroom, the entry of which no longer blocked by a trail of dirty laundry.

Brady stared in disbelief. "You cleaned the room, too?"

Owain's grin broadened.

Brady grinned back. "We got time now."

Author's Note

I feel like I should be apologizing for this, but I'm not really sorry (except maybe for my inability to channel Owain's ridiculousness). I haven't played FE: Awakening yet; please be gentle. OTL