Show Me The Ropes {cashton}

I

"Meredith- Ah, there you are," Ashton said breathlessly, stood in the doorway of the first bedroom around the corner from the maids quarters. This part of the house seemed foreign in comparison to the luxuriousness of the home in all other aspects, but staff weren't ever treated to such things. Pale brown walls with floral detailing around the bottom, and bland wooden flooring which was in dire need of painting over with some polish due to the wear over time.

His dark blonde waves were a mess after being hit full force with the nervous habit of playing with his hair, "I was just checking, have you sorted out the room next to mine like I asked?"

She smiled sheepishly and shook her head. Though everyone in the Irwin house could request anything of the maids, it was always the man of the home that had the final say, and in this case that would be Ashton's father. Arguments had been prevalent in the days leading up to Ashton's guest arriving, about whether or not it was 'acceptable' to give 'such a man' one of their finest rooms.

"No, sir. Mr Irwin told me that this room was fine for your guest," she said, changing the bedsheets, replacing them with fresh linen.

Ashton never did mind the little luxuries not being there for him, so the silk bedding didn't appeal to him any more than linen or cotton, but he had grown up with only the best given to him. Growing up this way, having these things practically forced down his throat, he was of course not happy about his guest having any less than the finest. He found the idea alone purely humiliating.

Though a room like this wasn't something he personally turned his nose up at, and he had been perfectly content in much worse at the likes of roadside inns, he couldn't help but huff at the sight of the bare minimum being done upon his fathers request. It seemed to be purposely an insult towards his soon to be arriving guest, and most importantly his best friend. Someone he valued more than himself.

He nodded, he didn't argue, it wasn't her fault and he held deep respect for the staff of the house, he had always seen them as his family. Meredith worked hard, not only taking care of cooking and cleaning alongside her co-workers, but she was head of the staff, keeping them in check and ensuring that everything ran smoothly.

"Alright, thankyou," he said simply, turning on his heel and heading to the storage room, picking out some of his favourite patterns woven into silk; if his father was going to be this way, he didn't mind just doing things himself, rather than getting Meredith, or any other maid for that matter, in trouble for disobedience.

Carrying the load into the room beside his, he stopped the heavy door with his foot to keep it from slamming - his mother had been reprimanding him for not being careful enough, especially whenever he had a burst of anger. Twenty-four, unmarried, and treat like a boy rather than a man, it was getting more and more tiring by the day.

To add to that weight on his shoulders, anxiety was building up in his chest like bricks, every time the hands of the clock moved with each passing minute. Closer, and closer. He wanted to give the best impression possible, meeting someone after such a long time felt like meeting a stranger.

Only this was so much worse.

Calum Hood, a man of Māori background, raised by a wealthy white family over in the United States. With Europeans immigrating to New Zealand, conflict and epidemics broke out among the new communities and the Māori people, taking the lives of many including the young parents of Calum when he was just a toddler.

Since then, he was adopted into a wealthy family, brought with them to England when they fled from disease.

The problem among all of this being the rarity of people of colour. Since Calum had been a child living nearby before moving to America, no one with anything other than white skin and British background had been in the presence of the Irwins, and so it was going to be a shock to the system, even for Ashton who adored and respected Calum.

Already, Ashton could feel the tensions arising, and it was worrying. To hope and pray that his parents would be accepting was all he could do, but the chances of that were looking slim already, with the refusal to accommodate his guest the same way they would any other.

With the stubborn nature that he possessed, Ashton prepared the room on his own, making the bed and cleaning the furniture. Over fifteen years of writing to each other had led to this, and if there was one thing he was sure of it was that his best friend deserved only the best they could offer.

Through the letters they had exchanged they had become so close their souls felt entwined, there was a deep bond binding them together, and Ashton knew Calum's character so well. He was kind and genuine, a gentleman with a heart of gold and so much intelligence. But his family wouldn't see that until it was practically served to them on a plate, and the need to prove himself solely because of his complexion was a challenging logic for Ashton to wrap his mind around. Judgement for something that seemed so trivial made no sense, but history was rooted in it, many lands and peoples had been torn apart so remorselessly by white hands.

Things weren't so complicated when they were younger, but adulthood twisted what was innocent at one time.

It wasn't like Ashton cared to please his family, he did things on his own accord and free will, so keeping him and Calum at a distance from the Irwins wouldn't necessarily bother him if it came to that. The best for his friend, and anything less was unacceptable.

This feeling was mutual with Calum; over the years he had poured out his hearts contents onto pages in the form of ink, confiding in Ashton things he wouldn't even open up to his adopted parents about. They were closer than that, had been since they were children, and the most heartbreaking thing to happen to them was their separation, when the Hood family took a ship to America, and all they had to keep a connection were each other's postal address.

For this tradition to be coming to a temporary halt for a while felt almost surreal. In Calum's hands was the final letter that either of the two needed to write in a while, something Ashton wrote to be kept unread until the coach journey from the train station to the Irwin House. Sometimes pages upon pages would be enclosed, but this time the envelope was light, one piece of paper inside. Ashton had so much to say, so much to ask, but the opportunity was about to be standing right before him in flesh.

Opening the envelope and taking out the paper, the familiar handwriting unfolded, it never lost its ability to bring Calum excitement. The highlight of his week had always been reading his letter, and writing a response over tea in the evening.

The bumps along the journey in the carriage that sent Calum from one end of the carriage to the other made reading difficult at times, but the ride was long enough that deciphering chunks at a time was fine.

"17th December, 1852

My dearest friend Calum,

It is with great joy I send this letter to you. Perhaps, the last I need send for a while if all falls into place. I look forward to your visit over Christmas, and I trust that you were patient as I requested in my letter a week or so prior, and read this during the journey to England. Although if not, I understand, I am a rather magnificent man and my letters must be such a joy to read. I can almost see you laughing at that right now, the disrespect.

Having not seen you since we were young, it will be a wonder to be reunited, my old friend. Letters and pictures just are not comparable.

I hope the States have been treating you well, I know your family move was very important, with your father's business and all. I have heard rumours of a woman, if I am not mistaken, and I would love to hear all about her. I had not expected our writing to each other to last for longer than our childhood, but I never have found a friend as wonderful as you, and I believe the same is true for our parents.

I hope the carriage and coachman of my personal recommendation awaiting your arrival at the train station was good for you, and the fare has readily been paid by myself so not to worry about that, only the best for our guest, of course.

I wish you a safe and pleasant journey, and may I hear all about it upon your arrival.

Ever your friend,

Ashton Irwin."