My Random Shit

You had gone through a rehearsal the night before, something Eligres was not permitted to attend since he was holding vigil the entire night, which was customary. The ceremony began at noon. The royal couple entered the great hall, as expected, and ascended the dais arm in arm, draped in their fineries. They stood in front of their thrones and addressed the hall. You took your place on the queen's side of the dais, hoping Eligres would make good on his promise.

"Good people," The king began. "Today we are gathered to honor a great hero of the kingdom. A man who went to great lengths to protect the queen and heir, putting himself in mortal peril. Further, he went beyond the call of duty to bring a villain to justice and rid the kingdom of their ongoing evils. For these reasons, he has earned the right to stand with the most honorable individuals this country has to offer, the order of the knighthood." He gestured toward the door, which was closed after their entry. "We call Eligres, the Duke of Tritis, to stand before us."

The doors opened, and there he stood, a huge black dragon with large leathery wings folded against his back and glittering scales. He almost didn't fit through the double doors, but after carefully maneuvering his wings through the frame, he managed to get all of himself inside the great hall. There was plenty of room for him to move around in the great hall itself, save for the load-bearing support columns, but as long as he steered clear of those, he was able to move around relatively freely. He walked on all fours lumbering toward the dais, his sharp claws clacking against the stone of the floor. His long neck slithered to and fro as he moved, and his even longer tail snaked out behind him. He reached the foot of the dais and stopped, holding his head up high, towering over the royal couple even on the raised platform.

There were loud whispers like hissing serpents in every corner of the room, full of shock and astonishment. The king and queen even seemed quite startled, but they said nothing about it. You smiled and released a breath.

"Duke Eligres of Tritis," The king said, pulling out a sword from a sheath on his hip. "Do you swear to uphold the virtues of the station of a knight?"

"I do," He replied, his cavernously deep voice reverberating around the room.

"Do you swear to defend the crown and kingdom from any threat, assault, or attack?"

"I do."

"Do you vow to be a weapon of the crown in times of war, a protector of the people in times of peace, and a provider to the suffering in times of need?"

"I do."

"By the king's will, by will of the queen, and under the watchful gaze of the nation, I name you Sir Eligres, knight of the realm," The king said, using the sword to tap both of Eligres' wide shoulders. He then sheathed the sword, removed it from his belt, and handed it to Eligres. In Eligres' large paw, it looked more like a toothpick. "Let it be known that my kingdom is now the Kingdom of the Dragon. May all who turn their eyes to us see a the virtues of a dragon, those of strength, bounty, and longevity."

Eligres turned and sat on his haunches, holding the sword up in his paw. Behind him, a large flag was unfurled, showing a black dragon holding a sword in his right paw, just as Eligres was doing. Whether this had been choreographed or not, it certainly had an affect on the crowd: there were oohs and ahhs and rousing applause.

The banquet came next, during which Eligres stayed a dragon. He was given his own table by himself which was piled high with delicacies, none of which he touched. Toast after toast were made in his and the crown's name, and while he couldn't exactly lift a goblet, he was given an entire bottle of wine with which to toast. He was expected to give a speech during the dinner, and it was clear he was not accustomed to public speaking, but you thought he did well considering how discomfited he was.

"There has been much talk and speculation about my origins in the recent weeks," Eligres began. "It is true that my father, a unscrupulous dragon, came and threatened to attack the kingdom and its people if it was not given a virginal sacrifice. It is true my mother was that sacrifice, offered against her will with no recourse or means of protecting herself. It is true that my uncle betrayed the crown, the kingdom, and his own family in countless terrible ways. I, however, am not covetous like my father. I am not defenseless like my mother. I am not scheming like my uncle. We are not always the product of our blood or environment, but instead the product of our choices. I choose to be a defender of my homeland. I choose to be a shield for its people. I choose to give my service to its king. I hereby vow with all of you as my witnesses that I give myself, all that I am, elf and dragon, to you, to the kingdom, and to the crown. Let us all walk together toward a future of courage, abundance, and prosperity."

There was much cheering and applause, and Eligres bowed his large head, his neck arching. You watched him with pride in your heart.

After the banquet, the ball was held in the great hall with music and dancing and nobles mingling. Still, he kept his dragon form, though you could tell he was becoming more and more wildly uncomfortable. Other nobles with shinier backbones dared to approach Eligres and engage him in conversation, and while he indulged them out of courtesy, you could tell he would rather be anywhere else by this point.

It was appropriate that Eligres receive acclaim for what he had done for the kingdom, of course; he deserved all honors for his contribution, but everything left a sour taste in your mouth. Just a month ago, these people were vilifying him and calling for his execution, and now they were making toasts to him and celebrating him as a hero while calling him a monster behind their hands. He clearly didn't want to be there, among all these people who didn't care about him. It was only his promise to you that kept him in place, suffering these fools in silence. He had earned acknowledgement.

After some time, you approached him.

"I was beginning to worry you wouldn't speak to me at all tonight," He said as you came close.

"Congratulations, Duke Tritis," You said, curtsying.

Even in his dragon form, you could tell from his face he disliked that immensely; you could have sworn you heard a groan of discomfort under his breath.

"We're in public, and you're a higher rank than I," You reminded him. "It would be impertinent of me not to acknowledge that, especially with so many eyes on us."

"I suppose that's true," He said begrudgingly. "I still don't like it."

"Even so," You said. "You're doing well. I'm proud of you for sticking it out this long; I expected you to change back by now, at least for the banquet. Aren't you hungry? You didn't eat anything."

"Forget that. Am I forgiven?" He asked plaintively. "That's all I care about. I can think of food later."

You smiled a little. "Yes. You've granted my request and gone beyond it. I think we can call this punishment enough."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. And for what it's worth… I truly am sorry. For everything."

"I know," You said to him. "You're forgiven. But that doesn't mean I trust you."

"No, I know," He conceded. "And you're right not to. It wasn't enough that I didn't believe you, but I was also a bastard to you. If it takes the rest of my life, I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have that long," You reminded him.

"Right," He said softly. "If I might suggest… I've discovered the location of Leina's grave. I was planning to take you there myself once your time as lady-in-waiting has expired, since Dunmountain is several weeks away and I don't know if the queen will give you leave for that long. Could… could I possibly have until then? I won't ask for more than that."

"You're not in a position to make requests," You told him sardonically.

"I know. But this was a promise I made to you before… well, before. It's important to me to see it through, and I want to do right by you. You deserve that."

"I understand," You said. "Very well. This is the only compromise you'll get, you understand?"

"Yes, of course, I hear you loud and clear." He glanced out at the people spinning on the dance floor and sighed. "I'd invite you to dance, but I fear I may take out half of the nobility with my tail if I were to go out there."

You laughed. "Perhaps another time."

"Would there ever be another time?" He asked morosely, still looking out over the crowd. You sobered and followed his gaze. You didn't answer the question.

"I must return to my post," You told him.

"Ah, yes," He replied, sounding sad. "Of course. Be well."

"And you," You said, and went back to the queen.

A week and a half passed, and you went about your duties as normal. The queen was still having early pregnancy symptoms, and you and the other ladies took turns taking care of her. The king visited just as often as he did when he believed her ill, bringing gifts and encouraging her to eat, doting and affectionate and far removed from the stoic, stern image you'd had of him as a king. Every other moment, he was a righteous, powerful leader who commanded the respect and adoration of his people, but when he was with his wife, he was just a happy man in love. Watching them together made you wistful and full of regret.

Would you ever know that kind of love? You'd had a single, momentary taste of it and it made you ravenous for more, even if you couldn't allow yourself to touch it. You knew you had to be strict and stick to your convictions: Eligres wouldn't learn anything from this if you didn't. Neither would you, you knew that… but… you felt crushed under the promise of what could have been had this misunderstanding never happened. You and Eligres might have been planning your wedding by now. You could both have been happy.

You were shocked to learn that Eligres had agreed to give an interview to the very same news outlet that had exposed him just months before and had caused the misunderstanding that had divided the two of you. They, of course, had no idea that you were not the one who leaked the information, as the person that did was someone from the duchy the former duke had hired to go to the press using your name. The publication had checked with the castle and confirmed that there was a lady-in-waiting with your name close to both the queen and the current duke, and that was confirmation enough for them that the information was credible.

Eligres decided to set the record straight, since the publication was available to every person who could afford a copy—and could read—so there were many, many people who were not privy to the gossip of the nobility and therefore still unaware of the truth. Some people still believed you had outed the duke's lineage publicly to hurt him and maliciously implicated him in the treasonous plot to kill the queen and heir, and called for your immediate imprisonment. Eligres felt it important to strike such misapprehensions from the public record.

He was, at one point, asked about the relationship between the two of you by his interviewer. His answer was rather candid:

"I love her dearly." He responded. "She's my intended. She was, I mean. I was a fool to ever have doubted her, and ever more the fool to leave her behind. Though I once unwisely questioned her intentions, I now know her heart well enough to say with the utmost certainty that she would never have done anything so cruel. She is the one person on this earth I trust with my entire being and I shall never betray her trust again, for as long as I live. I say this in the belief that this record will serve as my promise, and that I shall be held to account for my transgressions. My hope is that I have not yet squandered the precious second chance that was afforded to me, and I shall endeavor to earn back the trust I have broken. That is all I want."

You blushed to read such words. You knew he valued you quite highly, but it was always strange and a little exhilarating to hear how much. You also understood that this interview was a lot for him. He'd spent his entire existence dodging notoriety and making himself as inconspicuous as possible, keeping his life and doings secret, so you realized this was a huge sacrifice for him. He was giving up his privacy and personal peace to clear your name. That did count for something and you were grateful. It wasn't enough to completely mend the bond between you, but it was a solid foundation upon which to build. You decided to stop shutting him out and gave him permission to see you in a casual way, provided he maintained decorum.

After giving him the go-ahead, Eligres made more of an effort to spend time with you the way he had always done before. He visited you at mealtimes when you weren't with the queen and spoke to you of this and that, keeping you appraised of his doings and asking you about yours and your opinions on things. He escorted you when you went to and fro on errands for Her Majesty as if he was your personal hired man. He seemed to know exactly when you left the queen's presence, almost as if he was hovering anxiously nearby. You asked him several times if he didn't have better things to do, and he replied with a laugh and said, "nothing as important."

He was careful, though: he didn't touch you or ask you to touch him, even though you were sure he was starving for contact. He was more formal in his manner, more distant in his speech, careful not to cross any boundaries. It reminded you of the months after he had confessed his feelings and it made you feel both nostalgic and sad. You often caught him looking at you with a mournful, wistful gaze, though he quickly shifted his face to a more neutral expression when you caught him staring. You didn't acknowledge it outwardly, but you understood the feeling.

Time passed. Before you knew it, Duchess Dawson notified the queen that she was ready to step back into her role as lady-in-waiting, and it was time for you to step down. The news made you sad, and Eligres anxious. Plans were made to travel to Dunmountain to visit Leina's grave and perhaps meet with her family, if they were agreeable.

Every thought in your head was bittersweet. You were leaving the service of the queen, who had become an ally, if not a friend, in the year you'd known her. You'd likely miss the birth of her child, since you'd no doubt be back in the marquisate when it happened. Your relationship with Eligres was on unsteady ground, and you weren't sure if it could ever be repaired, though Eligres was making every effort to do so. Leina, the only mother you'd ever known, was gone and you were going to pay your respects, hoping she knew how much you loved her wherever her spirit resided. Even the knowledge that you had your own marquisate was dampened by the fact that your own parents' deaths was the catalyst for obtaining it. The money, the power, the prestige—all of it was built on the foundation of your own personal tragedy. It seemed no direction held a single happy thought for you.

The day before you were due to depart with Eligres, you had your last audience with the queen. It was held in her bedroom as she was still taken with morning sickness, and she was surrounded by her ladies, including Duchess Dawson, who smiled warmly at you.

"So you're leaving tomorrow," The queen said as you approached.

"I'm afraid so," You said, curtsying.

"I'll be sad to see you go," She replied. "Life in the castle has been… interesting since you arrived."

"Perhaps it's for the better that I leave, then," You joked. Queen Malia smiled.

"It's hard not to think of you as my good luck charm," She continued. "It was only after you came here that I finally conceived, and then you thwarted an attempt on my life, one that likely would have been successful otherwise. I'm almost loathe to release you."

You smiled at her. "Soon you won't have any time to think of me, Your Majesty. The little one will keep you so busy that you'll hardly notice me gone."

"I don't think that's true," She said, still smiling, though it had become somber. "I hope that you will return to the castle some day. As my friend."

Your smile widened. "You need only call, Your Majesty."

She reached out a hand for yours and you took it. Her smile faded.

"Listen," She said. "I know Eligres has transgressed against you. I agree that he deserves punishment for that… but… you must understand. He has been betrayed by almost every person who's ever known who he truly is. He's been raised to be suspicious of everyone, to question their intentions, to hold no one close for fear of potential treachery. I'm certain that his feelings for you are deep and sincere, but I'm just as certain he was always asking himself what you really wanted from him. If your affection for him was real or if you had some ulterior motives. Then suddenly he is confronted with evidence that the first person in whom he had placed his trust had turned on him as soon as it suited her to do so. Can you imagine how devastated he would have been? He had no choice but to accept it as truth at that moment, even if it didn't make rational sense. Once he had confirmation you were using him, when his worst suspicions were confirmed, he snapped and lashed out."

You nodded soberly. "I do understand that, and I've taken it into account."

"It doesn't absolve him from all his sins… he did say some unforgivable things to you… but imagine yourself in his shoes. Imagine he saved you from that terrible family and gained your trust only to sell you into slavery and steal your lands for himself. Would you not harbor animosity toward him?"

"I expect so," You conceded.

The queen sighed. "I know I'm biased in his favor. He's my nephew and the only son of my beloved sister, and it's natural for me to want to defend him, so I cannot advise you of what to do with any objectivity. The only thing I can tell you is that, in all the time I've known him, he has never made the same mistake twice. And that he loves you."

After a moment, you nodded. "I understand, Your Majesty."

The journey to Dunmountain was long and mostly pleasant. Eligres had given you your own horse—a gift for your appointment ceremony—and horse riding had been part of your inheritor lessons, but you were unaccustomed to riding and could only do so for a couple hours at a time, even at a leisurely pace. Eligres rode next to you, subtly instructing you about how to hold the reins and how to lead the horse without commands. When not riding on the horse, however, you spent your time in the carriage, surrounded by guards.

Eligres often joined you, talking pleasantly and sharing meals with you. At night when you couldn't find lodging, the soldiers camped under the stars while you slept in the carriage. Eligres stationed himself outside the door of the carriage and was seemingly capable of sleeping while sitting, as you often opened the doors to get fresh air in the night and found him resting against the carriage wheels. He'd snort awake when he felt the movement and asking if you needed anything. Sometimes when you weren't feeling sleepy, you'd sit up with him in the dark and quiet, and talk. It felt like anything you told him under the light of the moon was safe and sacred. Perhaps he felt that way, too, because he was vastly more candid than he'd ever been in the past.

He opened up about his childhood, something he hadn't done before: he'd mentioned it in passing a few times when asked but had always steered the conversation away from it when the questions became too probing. He told you how isolated he was, how he grew up terrified of himself, his mother's overpowering protectiveness, horrible stories about the former duke's abuses, and how unprepared he felt when he took control of the duchy, since he had never been given inheritor lessons and had to learn on the job. He seemed embarrassed by most of what he told you and avoided your eye, looking mostly at the ground, as if he were ashamed of his experiences. He told you he felt like a coward for hiding in the capital to avoid his uncle, but he had grown up afraid of him and couldn't shake the impulse to defer to him, even though he was no longer in power. You listened, not attempting to contradict him when he called himself names. You didn't assuage his self-esteem or suggest advice, as it seemed that wasn't what he wanted, but being what for him what he wanted the most: someone in which he could confide.

In turn, he asked you about your experiences at the manor. He asked about Leina and if you had any happy memories from your childhood to draw from. You could only think of one or two, and you told him about them. He wondered why you weren't angrier or more suspicious of people like he was, how you managed to grow up kind and empathetic, and you just shrugged and said you weren't sure.

Dunmountain appeared on the horizon on the fifth day of the third week, much to your relief. You were hoping that you could take some time to recover from the trip before heading back, as the carriage had played havoc on your backside. Still, you didn't complain: at least you hadn't spent the entire trip on the back of a horse, like the men had. Entrance to the city was easy, as if they were expecting your party beforehand. Eligres had a manor in the city, upkept by a skeleton crew, where you would be staying.

Seraina, who had traveled most of the way on the driver's box, helped you into the manor and get settled in a guestroom. After some time, Eligres came to find you.

"Lunch will be ready soon," He said. "I thought we might take today to rest and go out to the cemetery tomorrow. I've been told that Leina's family plot is somewhere in the center of the field, so it may take time to find it."

"I understand," You said. "Did you send the letter I wrote to Leina's family?"

"Yes," He replied. "I sent a messenger the moment we entered the city. With any luck, we should receive a response soon."

"They may not want to see me," You said morosely. "Maybe they blame me for her death."

He tilted his head and frowned in confusion. "It was hardly your fault. Why would they blame you?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. Allia always found ways to blame me when bad things happened, so I guess I just expect it from everyone."

Eligres's eyes fell and he scowled at himself. "I seem to have perpetuated that unfortunate disposition. I…" He stopped and cleared his throat. "No, perhaps now is not the time for another superficial apology, though I would say it a million times if that's what it takes. Instead, could I interest you in a tour of the grounds? Though this is not my main residence, it is my home while in the city, so it would be negligent of me if I didn't welcome you properly."

You smiled. "Certainly."

The manor itself was much smaller than the count's had been, as it wasn't on a sprawling estate, but it was lovely. It had only a large main building four floors high with an additional attic and cellar, and was surrounded by a beautiful garden. It was charming and inviting and the exact opposite of where you'd grown up, which had always felt cold and suffocating. This had been a summer estate that Eligres and his mother escaped to on the rare occasion the former duke gave them permission to leave the main estate, and it was one of the few places where Eligres had good memories.

He showed you the places where he would hide after swiping sweets from the kitchen and his childhood bedroom. He took you to an office where his grandfather had worked, a place he often explored when he was bored. He showed you a painting of his mother, painted shortly before her death. Perhaps it was because of her years with a dragon, but she had an intensely foreboding expression, haughty and severe. He assured you that, while she was often overbearing and strict, she was a loving mother in her own way. He knew she was slightly delusional and that her fixation on him was unhealthy for them both, but he never had a reason to doubt that she loved him.

"Do you remember much about her?" You asked him.

"Some," He replied sadly, staring at the painting. "She died when I was so young that most of my memories are fading. I find myself dreading the day when I may not remember her at all. I've already lost the memory of what her voice sounded like."

"That must pain you," You remarked.

His eyes fell from the painting and looked at the floor. "Even more… I worry about it happening again. That after tomorrow, I'll never see you again and forget the sound of your voice."

You felt cold and sad. "You'll likely still see me every once in a while," You said. "I'm sure I'll be invited to any number of events at the castle, now that I'm head of a marquisate."

"Of course," He conceded. "But never again will I hear you calling my name. I don't want to forget what that sounds like. It's the sweetest sound in the world."

You took a breath and released it slowly. "Eligres."

He looked up, his expression raw.

"I can't say for certain what will happen tomorrow," You said. "You've done your best to make up for your wrongdoings, and I recognize that. I… I still don't know my feelings. I don't know if my trust in you can ever be repaired."

He sighed heavily. "Is there no chance for us, then? Not even to be friends?"

"I don't know," You told him. "But I promise. I'll give you a definitive answer tomorrow, one way or the other. I won't keep stringing you along with false hope."

"I almost wish you would," He said. "At least that way, I could still lie to myself that we have some sort of relationship. The prospect of being strangers again…" He shook his head and didn't continue.

You sort of understood what he meant. "You have to promise me, in turn," You said to him. "I remember what you said before you left to retrieve your uncle, about never coming back. You have to promise you won't leave or do something foolish. You have duties that you cannot abandon, and I will not have you lay your absence, either by abdication or death, at my feet. I don't want to see you ridiculed and derided as a deserter, nor would I be pleased with your taking matters into your own hands. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

He nodded. "I do."

"It may well be my last request of you," You said. "Will you promise me?"

"Indeed. I am powerless to refuse you," He replied with a small smile. "I promise."

The next morning, the two of you set off alone for the cemetery. It took some time—most of the morning, in fact—as the cemetery ground were large, but eventually you found the communal plot for Leina's family. You stood before it and bowed your head, praying.

"Was she religious?" Eligres asked you.

"Not as such," You said, your eyes still closed. "She did observe holy days and had a patron god, but I wouldn't say she was devout."

"What was she like?"

"Stern but kind. She looked after me like her own child, but she never called herself my mother. She didn't want me to see her as a replacement for my own mother, who she said was a gentle, stoic woman who loved me more than life. Despite that, if you were to ask me to imagine a mother, I can only see Leina. I don't want to disrespect my birth mother, but I can't help it. I don't even remember her. From the first moment of my recall, it was Leina who was there."

"You were but ten years old when she was sent away, correct?" He asked.

"Yes," You replied. "She was sent away with no cause given other than I was too old for a personal nanny, but I suspect it was Allia's doing. She couldn't stand the fact that there was someone who afforded me comfort. She was only happy when I was squirming and upset."

"How did you cope with her loss?"

"I didn't at first," You said. "I was inconsolable for the first month. It earned me several beatings, but I couldn't help it. Eventually I just went numb and worked like a machine, not thinking about anything. Honestly, I don't think I've ever really been given the chance to grieve."

"You have a chance now," He said. "There's no one to admonish you for crying here."

"That's true," You agreed. Tears gathered in your eyes.

"Why don't you try talking to her?" Eligres suggested gently, laying a hand softly on your back. "I'll take a step back and give you some privacy."

You nodded, and he retreated several paces back and turned around, clasping his hands behind his back. You stepped forward and tried your best to greet Leina through your tears.

"Hello, Leina," You began shakily. "I… I came all this way to find you. I wanted to know if you were happy and that you were living well, but I was too late. I hope you're not angry that I waited so long." You sniffed and wiped your face, though that did little to dry your eyes. "You'll never believe it, but I'm a marchioness. I have my own territory. I became a lady-in-waiting and I'll never want for money ever again. I could have given you a wonderful life, if I had made it in time. I'm sorry I'm so late. Please forgive me."

You knelt down in front of the memorial stone with the family name on it and began clearing away the vines that covered it.

"I'm doing well now," You told her. "I will be taking over my territory soon and begin acting as head. I'm nervous, but I think I can do it. I hope you'll be proud of me, when the time comes." You traced your fingers absently over the letters of the names, and then paused, perplexed. "Huh… that's strange."

"What is?" Eligres asked. He was still turned away from you, but you assumed his sharp elf-and-dragon ears had heard everything you'd said.

"Leina's name isn't here."

Eligres turned and came to kneel next to you, frowning.

"You're right," He said. "How odd. Did we get it wrong?"

"No, this is her family's name," You said. "Perhaps there's a second memorial stone?"

"I thought I was losing my mind when I read the letter, but it is you, isn't it?" You heard a creaky voice say from beyond where you knelt. "How far you've come, little one."

You turned and saw a stout woman standing where the row crossed into another row, several feet away. She had sandy hair, a similar colored beard, and was half your height. Her hair was more grey than you remembered, but you would have recognized that face anywhere.

You stood slowly and your jaw dropped in shock.

"…Leina?"

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My Masterlist

You worked at an all-night tavern in the outer ring of the city from noon to midnight six days out of the week. If you thought Takarad's tavern was busy, it was nothing compared to a tavern in the city—the one where you worked was twice as big and had six times the number of daily patrons. The only saving grace is that you weren't the only barmaid serving and usually worked in a team of five: three barmaids in addition to a separate cook and bartender. Your roommate worked the opposite shift, so you rarely ever saw each other.

As you entered the tavern, the bartender called you over. He was the owner of the tavern and usually worked from dawn to dusk.

"Hey, glad you're here early," He said. "Someone came in looking for a girl with your name. Similar description, too."

"Was it a tall man?" You asked, worried Bronwyn was back.

"Oh, he was definitely tall," He laughed. "Tallest son of a bitch I've ever seen. Shaggy guy, big mane, missing an eye."

Your heart leapt into your throat. "A lion beastman?"

"Yeah. You know him?"

You swallowed hard. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him I'd never heard of you," He told you. "Should I have told him differently?"

You shook your head. "No," You said quietly. "If he comes back in, tell him the same. I don't want to see him."

"Understood," He said. "Old boyfriend or something?"

"Or something," You said. "Did he say why he was looking for me?"

"Nah, just said he owed you something."

You felt cold. Owed you… what? For the "favors" he mentioned? He came all the way to Dunmountain just for that? After four months? What the hell was he thinking? If that was all he wanted, you'd rather not see him at all. You weren't lying to yourself, of course; the fact that he was in the city right now made you desperate to see him, but you knew seeing him would hurt, especially if he planned to leave again. You didn't want to do that to yourself.

You finished work that evening and left the tavern, using the back alley between the tavern and the tenement building where you were staying, rubbing your sore back and sighing tiredly. You stumbled over a loose cobblestone and accidentally dropped your key in a puddle. You turned and sighed in exasperation. You really wanted this day to end.

You bent to pick up the key, but another hand reached out to snatch it out of the puddle. A huge, furry, golden hand. You followed the hand up and saw a grizzled face, missing an eye, with a relieved expression creasing his features.

"Found you," He growled.

Without thinking, you turned tail and ran.

"Wait!" He shouted, hurrying after you. "Wait, please!"

"Leave me alone!"

"Wait! I lied!" He yelled. He reached you easily, since he had a much longer stride, and grabbed your skirt, pulling you to a halt. "I lied to you!"

"About what?" You asked him, leaning away and breathing hard.

"Everything," He replied. "That night, and the next morning, everything I said. It was a lie."

"I don't believe you," You told him.

"You ain't got to," He said. "I just… wanted to tell you the truth. I owed it to you."

"Why?" You asked him, yanking your skirt out of his hands. "Why now? Why not four months ago, before I left? What took you all this time to decide I deserve the truth?"

"It only took me a week to realize what a fuckwit I was bein', and I left right after," He said. "I went to Holdwater first, and that took some time. I've been in this city for a month, looking for you."

You frowned in confusion. "Why did you go all the way to Holdwater? You know I'd never go back there."

"I had a conversation with your pa and that prick Bronwyn," He said, pulling a letter out of his coat. "I wasn't convinced they were done with you, so I went to warn them off." He handed you the letter. It was an official declaration of disownment, signed by the king. The original letter was just from your father telling you that you'd been disowned, not an official decree. "I had a feeling they lied about you being disowned to lower your guard and make it easier for that Bronwyn prick to spring a trap on you. I made sure they made it official. Took longer than I anticipated, or I'd have been here sooner."

"Hmm," You said, putting the letter in your bag. "It took you a month to find me? So much for being a mercenary."

"It's been twelve years, I'm a little rusty," He said sharply. "And besides, I didn't check the taverns first. I thought you'd try workin' in a noble or wealthy household, so I looked there to start. The pay is better and it includes room and board, so I thought you might go for that. I admit, I wasted a lot of time in the upper ring, lookin' for you. And…" He cleared his throat. "I thought… you wouldn't want to work in a tavern 'cause… it would remind you of me. So I didn't start there."

"It does remind me of you," You said sadly. "But it's also all I know how to do."

"Right…" He said, his head bowed. "Listen… can we go somewhere to talk? I don't like you bein' out here in the middle of the night."

"I've been walking home in the middle of the night for months now," You told him. "If you don't like it, you only have yourself to blame."

"Aye, I know that," He said. "I have a room at the inn nearby. You will give me some of your time? Just ten minutes. Please."

You glared at him. "I don't trust you."

He nodded once, grimacing as if in pain, but said only, "I getcha. Do you want to go back into the tavern? Would talking in public be better?"

You couldn't think of anything you would hate more. "No…" You sighed. "Ten minutes… that's all you get."

He nodded again, relieved. "I appreciate it," He said. "Come with me."

He led you to an inn you were familiar with, since you had asked for a job there when you first got to town, as it had a tavern on the main floor. He took you up to the third floor and opened a door that led into a tiny room with a bed that was far too small for Takarad and a chair against the wall. There was no table, nightstand, or wardrobe. The walls were a drab grey, and there was a single small window, likely only used for venting the room of smoke from the brazier.

He sat you down in the only chair in the room and set his bag next the bed, taking off his coat and laying in over his bag. There was a standing candelabra with three candles on it, and he lit those, and then fussed with the brazier in the corner, lighting the wood to heat the chilly room. When he was done, he moved to stand in front of you, towering over you, and then sank down to his knees before you, his hands gripping his thighs tightly.

"So…" You said, your arms crossed. "You have ten minutes. Explain yourself."

"Before that…" He began. "Just answer me one thing. That night… when you gave yourself to me… you weren't forcin' yourself to do it, were you? You weren't doin' it cause you thought you had to? It wasn't because you were scared of what I might do to you if you didn't?"

"No," You insisted. "I did it because I wanted to. I wanted to make love to you because…" You hesitated to say the full truth. "I liked you. A lot."

He blew out his breath as if relieved and nodded. "I just wanted to be sure."

"Was that something you were worried about?"

He nodded again and looked at you straight on. "Listen… I'm a idjit who don't know what to say at the best of times, so you'll have to bear with me… but… I'll try to get my thoughts out in a way that makes sense."

His eyes dropped and he looked at the ground, silent for a minute. You waited for him to collect his thoughts.

"The fact is…" He began. "I have nothing to offer you. I'm an old man. All I have to my name is that tavern, and while it earns me enough to eat, I'm not exactly rollin' in money. I got a little in savings, but it's not nearly what I'd need to give you the life you should have. I figured, after that shitty start at your pa's, you deserved something better than the life of a tavern-keeper's wife. You deserve things that I can't give you."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Like a nice house somewhere pretty and a passel of youngsters runnin' around the yard. A young husband who's kind to you and treats you good, and not a miserable old cat who does nothing but growl at you. A life of rest where the most labor you'd do is looking after the young-uns, not breakin' your back carryin' a heavy tray for thankless patrons. No jerk-offs to leer at you or put their hands on you or make you uncomfortable. I chased you off because I believed you deserve much more than I could ever provide for you. I still believe that."

"If you still believe that, then why are you here? What was the point of pushing me away if you were just going to end up here?"

He didn't answer right away. "I wanted you to be happy more than I wanted you for myself. I wanted you to have a good life with a good man. I ain't that. I ain't worth a damn and I know it." He slouched further. "I know there's a man out there who's worthy of you, someone who ain't me. It's one of the reasons I said what I said. After you offered your body to me, I panicked because I felt like I'd stolen something that wasn't mine to take. I knew the only way to make you hate me and look beyond me was to hurt you, so I… I said those things. The best thing I could do for you was push you away and make it so you'd never look back."

"Don't I get to decide what I want for my life?" You asked him. "Does my opinion mean nothing?"

"It's not that," He replied. "You just don't know that things could be better. You spent all that time at your pa's bein' mistreated, and then you spent a year bein' yelled at by me. You don't know how good things could be for you. You'd be making a choice not knowin' all the facts. That's not fair to you. It would be selfish of me to expect you to choose me when you don't know better things are out there for you. You can't make a good choice if you don't know what the choices are."

"So answer my question, then. What changed your mind? Why did you decide to track me down and tell me all this, if you don't think you're enough for me?"

He snorted a mirthless laugh through his nose. "Because I'm a selfish son of a bitch who can't leave well enough alone. I've gone through my life takin' whatever I can get without askin' for nothing, but you're the first thing I ever truly wanted for myself, even if I don't deserve you." He swallowed hard. "I… see you there in the corner of my eye sometimes, but when I look straight, you're not there, like a phantom. I used to think the bed was too small before, but now when I sleep, there's too much space. I keep making room for you without thinkin', but your side of the bed is cold and… I don't like it. The quilt we got as a weddin' present is still on the bed, and I think of you whenever I see it. I miss… hearin' your voice and seein' you smile. I miss eatin' dinner with you at night after everyone's gone home and listenin' to you talk. I've owned that tavern for over a decade now, but doesn't feel like my home anymore. I'm just livin' there." He stared up at you with a tender expression in his good eye. "I… I want you to come back home with me. I know I got no right ask this of you, or to feel this way, but… I don't want you to be no one else's wife but mine."

You looked down at him where he knelt, chewing your lip.

"Why? Tell me the truth or I walk out."

"Because…" He said slowly, looking down. "I love you."

"Look me in the eye when you say that," You told him.

He looked up at you. "You're right, forgive me." He took a large, nervous breath, but held your gaze. "I love you."

You searched his face. "Do you really mean that?"

He nodded fervently. "Yes. I should have said it that night. I should have said it much sooner. I was so stupid. I didn't know what I was feelin' 'til it was too late."

You sat back in the chair, staring at him. "Why should I believe you?"

"I know you ain't go no reason to believe me," He said. "I wouldn't believe me, neither. I'll spend the whole rest of my life provin' it to you."

"You don't have the rest of your life," You told him. "You have… five minutes."

"Right," He said sadly. "Right."

You sighed. "For what it's worth… I don't want to be anyone else's wife, either," You told him quietly. He looked at you in surprise, but before he could respond, you said, "Anyway, you said it was one of the reasons you said what you did. What were the other reasons?"

"Well… honestly…" He said, looking down at your feet. "I was angry. At myself. I broke the promise I made to you."

"What promise?"

"When I first suggested marryin' you, I told you I wouldn't touch you without permission," He said. "I had kept that promise until that night. You touchin' me like that felt so good, I… I lost control and put my hands on you without askin'. After it was over, I was disgusted with myself for takin' advantage of you and I got mad."

"You didn't take advantage of me," You said. "I initiated it. If anything, I took advantage of you."

He snorted at the thought. "Still, if I had such a big issue with you givin' me your chastity, I shoulda just turned you down as soon as it started happenin', but I didn't. I acted like a dog in rut and I was pissed at myself. And… I took it out on you. I lashed out at the wrong person. I fucked up."

"You didn't mess up until after it was over, when you left without a word. And then again with what you said to me."

He nodded. "I'm an asshole, I know that. But please believe me… nothin' I said that day was true. I was lyin' when I said that night meant nothing to me. I was lyin' when I said I didn't care about you. I just… I felt like you'd wasted your virtue on me. I wasn't worthy of such a gift."

"Isn't that for me to decide?" You asked him.

"You said you didn't want to give your virtue up to just anyone," He said.

"You're not just anyone," You told him. "You were my husband. You were the man I chose. I gave it to you because I wanted you to have it. Because…" You sighed. "I loved you."

His face fell. "…loved?"

You avoided answering. "And as it happens," You commented, deflecting. "You didn't break your promise. I did want you to touch me then. You had my permission, even if I didn't say it out loud."

He looked at you from where he was on his knees, his hands twitching in his lap.

"Then…" He said slowly. "Is it alright if I touch you now?"

"I don't know," You said with a shrug. "You've said all that, but I haven't heard an actual apology once yet."

He nodded. "You're right. Forgive me for being so stupid. I've never done this before." From where he was kneeling, he bowed all the way to the floor, his hands reaching out to touch your shoes, but he stopped before touching your skin. "I'm sorry. I'm more sorry than I've ever been. Please… I'll do whatever it takes to fix my mistake. Let me show you. Let me prove that I've learned my lesson. I'll do anything."

"Look at me," You said. He did. "Touch me."

His left hand came up slowly, nervously, and the fingertips touched your cheek, his thumb stroking your bottom lip. His right hand took your left and placed it on his chest, holding it in place and covering it with his own.

"I don't really know what I'm doin'," He said uncertainly. "I don't know much about how to treat a woman and I don't wanna do the wrong thing. You have to tell me what you want me to do."

"Last time," You began slowly. "You wouldn't touch me, and… I wanted you to kiss me, but you didn't. So... I want you to kiss me like you need me. Touch every inch of my body. Make me feel like you love me."

He blinked and stared at you. "I do need you," He said quietly. "And I do love you."

You took his face in your hands. "Prove it," You whispered, holding his gaze. "Prove it without a shadow of a doubt, or I walk out of that door and I'll never speak to you again."

He rushed forward and kissed you. He put his arms around you and lifted you, standing up from his kneeling position, holding you against his chest with one arm and using the other hand to take your shoes off. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and his free hand traveled up your skirt, caressing your thigh upward and reaching to knead the flesh of your rear. He kissed you roughly as he laid you down on his bed, his body arched over yours, and he knelt between your legs.

"Come home," He begged around a kiss, his gruff voice softer than you'd ever heard it.

"Is it my home?" You asked him.

"I'd really like it to be," He replied, pulling back to look at you. "I just want you back so bad."

"What reason do I have to go back? What's going to change if I agree to return with you?"

"I'll be better when you come back," He insisted. "I'll be sweeter to you. I'll stop yellin'. I won't be so grouchy. I'll be nicer and I won't swear as much. I—"

You stopped him by putting a hand to his lips. "I'm not asking you to change your entire personality for me. If you did that, you wouldn't be the man I fell in love with anymore."

"What can I do to convince you, then?"

"All I ask is that, maybe, you just think about what you say before you say it. And I want you to talk to me when something is wrong. Don't hide things from me anymore. Don't lie to me and tell me it's for my own good. If you're upset, if your angry about something, sit down with me and tell me. Can you do that?"

"Yeah," He said. "Yeah, I can do that. You really don't mind the swearin'?"

You laughed and shook your head. "I don't even mind the yelling, as long as you're not yelling at me." You sobered and looked at him seriously. "Most importantly, you broke my trust. You're going to have to work to get it back."

He nodded grimly. "I get that. I'll do whatever it takes to earn it back."

"How about a ring to start?" You asked him softly. "If I agree to be your wife again, I'd like to do it properly this time. We don't have to have a ceremony, since we don't really have anyone to invite to witness it, but if we're going to be married for real, I want it to feel real. I want people to know I'm your wife. I don't want to feel like a secret."

"I can do all that," He said quickly. "I'll give you anythin' you want. If you asked me to tear down that tavern, I'd do it without a moment's hesitation, even if it tore me apart."

"Well, it's a good thing I don't want that, then," You said with a smile.

"You'd really marry me again?" He asked hopefully. "Even after how much I fucked up?"

You hesitated. "I'm still unsure if I should. If I do, this will be the last chance," You said. "I love you and I want to be your wife, but I won't let you treat me like I don't matter. If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'm gone for good."

He nodded solemnly. "I understand completely." He kissed your face and cuddled you closer. "Let me show you how much I love you."

He drew your dress over your head, then the chemise, and then your undergarments, leaving you bare on the sheets. He pressed his snout against the skin of your sternum and inhaled. His long tongue came out and he licked between your breasts, kissing as he went.

You swallowed anxiously as he touched you, staring up at the ceiling.

"Are you going to leave again when we're finished this time?"

He stopped and looked at you straight on, his face serious. "No. A team o' horses couldn't pull me away. I'm not gonna make the same mistake again. I swear."

"I'm going to hold you to that promise," You said, pulling his shirt off. "If you don't keep it, you'll never see me again."

"I'll keep it," He said, shucking off his boots and trousers. "I won't disappoint you again."

"Time will tell," You replied as he crawled back over you.

He touched your body with his rough hands, stroking your skin and paying particular attention to your thighs, but he carefully avoided your breasts until you took his hands and guided them there. He caressed them softly, rolling them in his palms and gently pinching the nipples.

"Does that feel bad?" He asked.

"No," You said, shaking your head. "Not when you do it."

He lowered his head and let the tip of his long, broad tongue teasing the supple skin, very carefully biting the nipple with his flat front teeth and sucking, releasing it and letting it snap back, making it jiggle. You pet your hands through his mane as he explored you with his hands and his tongue, feeling his firm muscles under the fur and skin of his arms and shoulders, touching him as he touched you. You felt a thrumming in his chest, as though his heart was trying to escape his ribcage.

"Are you nervous?" You asked him.

"Quite frankly… petrified," He said with a self-conscious chuckle. "I'm tryin' my best not to hurt you."

"Kiss me, then, Takarad," You whispered. "Don't think about it too much. Just do what feels natural. I'll tell you if it feels bad, and we can adjust."

He nodded and kissed you deeper, laying his full weight on top of you. You found the pressure of his body comforting in a way you couldn't explain, despite him being so heavy. His hand came up to pet your face and the other hand found yours and interlaced the fingers together near your head. You felt him harden and pulsate against your body, and he propped himself up on his elbows, looking down between you and drinking in the sight of your body.

"God, I want you so bad."

"You have me," You said, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. "Take me."

"Turn over and get on your hands and knees," He growled seductively. "I want to take you properly."

A thrill went up your spine as you obeyed, flipping onto your stomach and getting up on all fours. You opened your legs more widely, giving him space to find his way. He got up on his knees behind you, reaching between you and stroking himself once before leading his cock to your entrance and sinking it into you wetly. You moaned and bit your lip. He buried himself all the way inside you and stilled, his hands gripping your hips and massaging the soft flesh of your ass.

"Fuck," He breathed. "It felt good the first time, but it's like fuckin' magic now. I didn't say it last time, but goddamn, woman, I can't imagine anything that would feel better than you do."

You smiled and clenched on him. He hissed and his nose scrunched.

"Do I make you feel good?" You asked him.

"Ain't nothing on this earth makes me feel as good as you," He rasped as he began thrusting, his body moving against yours.

You felt the fleshy spines rubbing you inside and you whimpered, your mouth open. He leaned forward, laying his front on your back, his head hanging over your shoulder. He panted in your ear as he thrust, and you felt him slapping his body against your rear. You cried out as you felt him reach underneath you with one hand and pet down your body, sliding his hand down your belly to touch the swollen lips at your core, using his fingers to hold them open. The feeling of him thrusting into you intensified, and you moaned loudly and continuously. Your bodies bounced against each other slowly at first, but he sped up at regular intervals until you were almost screaming.

"You alright?" He asked breathlessly.

"Yes!" You shouted. "Don't stop!"

"Does it feel good?"

"Oh god! Yes! I'm so close!"

"Are you gonna cum for me?"

"Yes! Fuck!"

He laughed and picked up speed, slamming into you hard and fast. You fell forward, your face pressed against the sheets as you came, gripping the linens tightly in your fists. He slowed and groaned, thrusting gently until your body finally relaxed and lay limp on the bed, gasping for breath.

"Hey," He purred in your ear. "Would you get back on top?"

You turned to look over your shoulder at him. "Did you enjoy me being on top?"

"Yeah," He said, breathing hard. "It was incredible. You were… I dunno how to say it… you took my breath away."

You blushed furiously. "Where'd you learn to talk like that?"

"I picked up a thing or two," He said with a grin. "For instance--" He kissed his way down your spine. "Did I tell you how gorgeous you look in the firelight?"

"No," You said, your blush deepening as you got up on your knees and scooted to allow him to lie down. You threw your leg over him and straddled him, rubbing his cock between your bodies. He groaned. "I didn't know you could say things like that."

"Me neither. It's weird and not like me at all," He said with a laugh. "But I've been doin' things I've never done before since I met you. It feels strange, but not bad."

"I wasn't even sure you found me physically attractive," You said, teasing him with your fingertips.

"Who wouldn't find you beautiful?" He asked as sighed at your touch. "You're just too damn pretty. Anyone who thinks otherwise ain't got any eyes in their fuckin' heads."

You rose up as he reached between you and lined himself up with your entrance. You slid down on him and he exhaled forcefully. Unlike last time, when he refused to touch you, he touched you all over, petting and stroking and exploring. He rose up to kiss your skin and nuzzle your face with his, stroking your hair and kneading your breasts. He moved his pelvis underneath you as you rocked on him, thrusting into you as you pushed back against him. Your bodies moved in tandem as the peak rose higher and higher, and your thighs quivered with every stroke. You moaned and whimpered his name, and he responded by pulling you against his chest and telling you he loved you. His thrusts sped up again, and your rocking matched his pace.

"Fuck," He croaked. "You're gonna make me cum."

"I want you to," You gasped. "I'm almost there."

"Goddammit, woman, you're so goddamn—" His voice cut off into a long groan of pleasure as he released into you, thrusting hard as each shot of his seed entered your body, and you cried out again as the wave of pleasure nearly floored you. Your head fell back and your eyes half closed as you rode him to the point of blacking out from the ecstacy.

He relaxed under you as you fell onto his chest, spent. He wrapped his arms around you and held you against him as he struggled to get his breath back. The two of you lay there, him holding you securely, you straddling him, for quite some time. His cock didn't soften, so you left it inside you, loving the feeling of being filled with him. He also did nothing to remove himself, so you imagined he also liked the feeling of it.

After a bit, you sat up on him, looking down at him and smiling. He grinned back up at you. You began rocking again since he was still inside you, making love to him slowly and softly. He took your hands, locking fingers with you, and moved as you moved. You sighed and gasped and bit your lip, furrowing your brow and closing your eyes, your back arching. The pleasure built sweetly in you and you felt him throbbing, as if he were also reaching his peak with you. You came again, gently this time, and you felt him release again, his stomach spasming and his breathing stuttered.

After a few moments to recover, he finally slid out of you and softened. You fell sideways and he pulled you close, tucking you into his side with your head on his arm.

"What were you going to say?" You asked him. "Before you got cut off."

He chuckled. "Honestly, I couldn't find the right word. I couldn't think of a word that would get the point across."

"What point?"

"How fuckin' beautiful and sexy and incredible you are. I ain't good with words, so I don't know if a word like that exists."

"You could have just picked one of those."

He shook his head. "They wouldn't have been right. You're more than those things."

You smiled. "I hope I can see myself the way you see me one day."

"You will," He replied, kissing your brow. "Just give me time."

At some point, you fell asleep. You woke up the next morning, with light filtering in through the tiny window, to find yourself encircled in his arms. He was awake and watching you sleep.

"Mornin'," He said sleepily.

"I almost expected you to be gone when I woke up," You said to him.

He blew his breath out through his nose. "If you see me as that much of an unreliable cock, it's my own damn fault. I just need to work harder."

"I can't argue with that," You said to him.

He kissed your cheek. "How'd I do last night? Did you feel loved?"

"I suppose," You replied. "But it's gonna take more than a single night of sex for me to be convinced."

"I'll give you the rest of my life," He said, petting your face. "Will that work?"

You smiled. "Is that a promise?"

"More than a promise," He said, nuzzling you. "It's a vow."

"That so?" You said softly. "I suppose I can't do better than that."

"Do you have to be at work soon?" He asked.

"Not for another few hours," You replied. "If it's going to be my last shift there, I should get my earnings and let the owner know I'll be leaving so he can hire a replacement. It wouldn't be right of me to leave with no notice."

"That's very responsible of you," Takarad said, his nose in your hair. He sighed and kissed your head. "I'm just so chuffed your choosing me. I ain't convinced this ain't a dream."

"Don't be too pleased. I'm still mad at you," You told him.

You felt him smile against your forehead. "That's fair. I'll take my punishment like a champ."

"I haven't decided on a punishment yet."

"Let me know when you do," He said. He cuddle you in tighter. For a moment, the two of you lay in each others arms quietly, enjoying the feeling.

"Takarad," You said, your voice slightly muffled against the fur of his chest.

"Mm?" He responded.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Whatever ya like."

You hesitated. "That night… I wasn't sure, but… was it your first time, too?"

He also hesitated. You looked up at him, and he looked down at you, his brow furrowed.

"What gave ya that idea?"

"You just seemed so nervous," You replied. "It's why I kept asking if you were sure or wanted me to stop. I wanted to ask you about it back then, but I didn't want to embarrass you."

"So you're alright embarrassin' me now, is that it?" He asked shrewdly. You giggled. "Well… I did say I'd tell ya the truth from now on…" He eyed you suspiciously. "Would ya laugh at me if I said it was?"

"No, of course not," You assured him. "Was it really your first time? I almost can't believe that."

"I told you," He said. "Women tend to be scared o' me. I ain't never endeared myself to no women, so I hadn't gotten close enough to try nothing with one."

"You never… paid for a woman?" You asked.

"I thought about it a time or two," He admitted. "An old mercenary buddy took me to a brothel once, but the madam chased me out, sayin' I was scarin' the girls."

"I can't even imagine someone having the courage to throw you out of anywhere."

He chuckled. "Besides, I'd have felt bad makin' them girls entertain a sourpuss like me. There ain't enough coin in the world to make me less unpleasant to be around."

You smiled a little. "You know, you're actually quite sweet, in your own way."

He barked a laugh. "Now, there's a word that's never been used to describe me. The only person crazy enough to think I'm sweet is you."

"Hmm… maybe," You mused. "A fifty-year-old virgin, huh? No wonder you were so nervous."

He looked down at you with a pained expression. "Don't tease. Can I ask you somethin', then?"

"Yes, of course," You replied.

"Did you… like it?" He asked diffidently.

"I liked it enough to do it again, didn't I?" You said with a grin.

"Well, sure," He conceded. "But I heard a woman's first time hurts a lot. Did it hurt?"

You shook your head. "Did it sound like I was hurt?"

"No," He said, snickering. "All that moanin' made it sound like you were havin' yourself a grand ole time."

You grinned wider. "I was. Weren't you?"

"Oh, I couldn't've had a better time," He affirmed. "Best I ever felt my whole life."

"We could… do it again…" You suggested, kissing his thin lips. "Unless you're too tired."

"You doubtin' my stamina, missy?" He growled with a smirk, rolling over on top of you. "Lemme teach you a lesson you won't forget about underestimatin' me."

"Oh, please do," You breathed as his lips found your breast.

Sometime later, the two of you dressed and you made a dash for your room at the tenement building to get ready for work. He met you at the door, escorting you back to the tavern. He sat down at a table, ordering a drink and a breakfast plate, apparently determined to wait for you all day.

You informed the owner that it would be your last day and requested to be paid your wages at the end of your shift. He seemed sad to see you go, but agreed to do as you wished. While you were having the conversation, Takarad stepped out of the tavern and was gone for about thirty minutes, which made you uneasy, but he returned quickly and sat back at his table, ordering another drink and watching you work. You could feel his eyes on you all day, and tried your best not to blush in front of the other patrons.

At the end of your shift, you collected your wages and met Takarad at the table. He stood as you approached, leaving coins on the table.

"I'm ready to go," You told him. "I just need to pack my stuff and we can leave in the morning."

"Are you sure about this?" He asked you, bending so that you were eye-to-eye. "This is your last chance to back out, 'cause if you come home with me, I ain't never lettin' you go again."

You grinned at him. "I'm counting on that."

You took the opportunity of him being so close to kiss his muzzle, and he grunted in surprise but didn't step back. Instead, he pressed his lips to yours more solidly, lingering, in front of everyone in the bar. There was whoops and hollering from the patrons all around you, but you paid it no mind.

"If that's the case, then…" He said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a fine silver ring with a garnet inlay. "I think I owe you this. You said you wanted to do it the right way, so…" He got down on his knees and held the ring up for you. "Marry me?"

You grinned wide and held back tears. "Yes," You said. You took the ring and slid it on your finger. It fit perfectly.

The tavern erupted into cheering and he grabbed you up into a hug. After that spectacle, he took you back to your room and helped you pack your things, and then took you to his room at the inn.

"We'll go tomorrow to the magistrate," He said as he closed the door and fussed with the brazier. "I doubt the magistrate back in town would let us remarry after we caused all that fuss. We'll have to do it here."

"It'll be more expensive here," You told him.

"I ain't worried about the expense," He replied. "And I want you to wear your best dress. Like you said, if we're getting hitched again, we should do it for real. I'll buy us spots at a bathhouse to get us nice and clean for the ceremony."

"Are we going to have a real ceremony?"

"Or course," He said. "With a priest and everythin'."

"I thought you weren't religious," You replied.

"I ain't," He said. "But ceremonies have to be done in a church or temple so it can be recorded in their book. Marriages recorded by temples are much harder to dissolve because you need permission from the temple you were married in to do it. Close to impossible, actually."

"You're really serious about marrying me for good, then?" You asked him, placing your hands on his chest.

"Dead serious," He replied, bending to kiss you. "No gettin' rid of me now."

You laughed and he chuckled. He undressed you, kissing down your body as he removed your clothes, and led you to the bed for a full night of love-making.

The next morning, after sleeping in a little, he did exactly as he said and bought some time at a bathhouse for the two of you. You washed with scented soaps and flower oils and the ladies did up your hair as a gift, since they heard you were getting married. You wore the only nice dress you had, a maroon gown that was a similar color to the garnet in the ring you wore.

Takarad met you outside the bathhouse dressed in what you assumed was also his best outfit, a bone white tunic with a leather vest and black trousers. He grinned at you and took your hand as he led you into a carriage he'd hired to take you to the nearest temple. Conveniently, there was a magistrate's office just outside of the temple. The magistrate did look at the both of you sideways when you both answered "yes" to the question of if you'd been married before and to whom. You had to slightly bend the truth and tell the magistrate that the original marriage had been dissolved because you were a noble and it was deemed invalid, but now that you were disowned, the marriage was perfectly legal. You produced the disownment decree as proof. Satisfied, the magistrate issued the license with no objections after you paid the fee.

You took the marriage license into the temple and requested a ceremony. You were made to wait a short time before being summoned by a priestess to the altar. Takarad took your hands and kissed them as the priestess had the two of you recite generic vows to each other. Takarad amended his vows to include never leaving you alone and always celebrating the good things with you. You changed yours to include that you'd support and stand by him, even when he was being stupid. He grinned at you and bowed his head in acceptance.

You spent your second wedding night in bed with him and woke the next day sated, happy, and ready to go home. He grinned at your eagerness and told you there was one day left before you could leave.

"I bought our way onto a wagon train to take us back," He told you. "It leaves tomorrow."

"We're going to be exhausted for the trip back to town," You said during a resting period.

He snickered. "We'll have plenty of time to rest, don't you worry. Seein' as how we won't have any private time for the next couple of weeks, I'm gonna make the most of today."

You giggled as he rolled you and positioned himself between your legs, grinding into you.

The next day, you learned that Takarad had bartered for space on a pack of wagons headed southeast the first day after finding you. They weren't going directly to your town but they'd get you close enough that you could walk the rest of the way comfortably within a day. He helped you up into the wagon and climbed in after you. It reminded you of the day you left him, and the memory made you frown, but he kissed the frown off your face. His own expression was somber, but he smirked at you, poking your cheek. You leaned into him and he threw an arm around your shoulders, cuddling you in. The wagon began to move.

A couple of weeks later, the two of you were dropped off at a crossroads close to the town. It would take a few hours to get back by walking, but the two of you walked hand in hand at a leisurely pace.

You entered the town limits mid-afternoon and were greeted by one of the men who worked the fields, loading a handcart. His face drained of color when he saw you and he took off back to town. You and Takarad exchanged a look of confusion but carried on.

A few minutes later, you were surprised to see the magistrate coming up the road. Worried, the two of you hurried your steps to meet him.

"Welcome back, Takarad," The magistrate said. "I wish I had better news to deliver."

"What's the problem?" He asked.

"Well, it seems as if someone burned the tavern down. A few folks in town saw Caid with a man dressed in fine attire near the tavern while you were gone, and some time later that day, it went up. We've caught Caid and locked him up—we were waiting for your return to sentence him—but the second man seems to have escaped."

"Bronwyn," You said, tears coming to your eyes. You took off down the lane toward the tavern, unable to believe it.

"Wait!" Takarad said, sprinting after you.

You rounded a bend and dashed up the hill and looked down over the town. There, in the distance, you could see a black mark against the lush green surroundings. You ran toward it and stopped in front of the blackened, gutted building that had once been your home. All you happy memories with Takarad was in that tavern. All his gifts to you were in there. The wedding quilt was in there. You fell into the grass, racked with grief, and felt Takarad stumble to a stop next to you.

"Son of a bitch," He breathed. "Looks like I'll need to make another trip sometime soon."

"It's all my fault," You wept.

"No, it ain't," He insisted. He knelt next to you and took your face in his hands. "Look at me."

You looked at him, and he smiled gently at you.

"We can rebuild it," He assured you, pulling you into his arms and holding you where you were crouched in the grass. "I have the money to put it back up."

"You said you didn't have that much money in savings. Not enough to rebuild, anyway."

"When I went to visit your pa," He said. "I may have… threatened him a little. He gave me your dowry to get me off his back. We've got plenty of money now. We can rebuild the tavern better'n before, or we can start over somewhere else, if you like. Whatever you want. Alright?"

You were startled out of your tears. "You had all that money in Dunmountain when you were begging me to come back?!"

He chuckled. "I was planning to give it all to you if you turned me down. You want to take it and run off, then?"

You sniffled. "Well, no… I want to rebuild the tavern."

He smiled softly. "Me too. So dry up those tears. Don't you go blamin' yourself for something that ain't had nothing to do with you. It'll take a little time, but we'll put it back up." He kissed you. "Alright?"

You sniffled and smiled, nodding.

Caid was sentenced to hard labor for a period of ten years and was sent to a work camp outside of the Willowshield strongold in chains a few weeks later. You knew that the second man was Bronwyn, but with him being a noble, there was little likelihood he would ever be charged or punished. You simply had settle for hoping Takarad's presence was enough to ward him off.

Putting the tavern back up took the better part of the year, during which time you rented out half of a house owned by an elderly woman who's husband had died the previous fall. By the time autumn arrived, it had been build bigger than before. Takarad had added more rooms in case, as he said, "we get a surprise," and smiled mysteriously. You were surprised something like that was on his mind, but he had changed quite a bit since you left. Perhaps he had given the idea some thought and embraced it.

You were finally able to move back into the tavern a few weeks before the start of winter. It took a little longer to get it up and running, since you needed to either buy or have made tables and benches, as well as furniture for the rooms, which could be rented for travelers. Your little town didn't often get travelers, but the town didn't have any sort of inn and Takarad figured it would be useful at times.

He also hired a bartender and a second barmaid, so that the two of you could take time off when you wanted and not spend every single day from morning to night working. He had an easier time hiring staff now that you were there: your presence seemed to reassure potential hires who were wary of Takarad initially. He was still gruff and short with them, as quick to anger and foul-mouthed as ever, but you also realized he would sometimes catch himself before unloading on someone and walking away to calm down, which he'd never done before.

Your first wedding anniversary came around again, and since you second wedding anniversary was only two days after the first, you decided to celebrate those three days as an anniversary event instead of picking a single day. On the first day, Takarad surprised you by telling you that the two of you were taking all three days off and spending it together.

He took you out to the field where the goats grazed and sat down on a hill with you, one that overlooked a little lake where a lot of the town's water was drawn. He sat you in between his legs and wrapped you in his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"How could I be?" You said, laying your head on his chest. "You're always so warm, I couldn't possibly be cold with you."

"Hmm," He hummed. "Am I doin' the celebration thing right? You said it was for spending time with the people you love, and I figured you didn't mean while workin', so I thought this might be nice."

"It is nice," You told him. "I like it. I didn't expect you to take a whole day off, let alone three whole days."

He chuckled. "I thought we could work on fillin' up those rooms."

You laughed. "I'm still shocked you even suggested that."

"Well, it's one o' those things I thought you should have. If I can give it to you, I want you to have it."

"You make it sound like a present," You said, laughing.

"Is it not?" He asked. "I've always heard it talked about like it's a gift."

"My father would disagree."

"Fuck that prick," Takarad said. "There ain't no reason to even think of him anymore. Think of the future."

"That's rich, coming from you."

He chuckled. "Aye, I imagine so. But the only reason I'm lookin' to the future at all is you. That's a gift of itself. It's only fair that I give you back what you gave me."

"Well, if you put it that way…" You said, turning in his grip and pushing his chest. He lay back in the grass and you climbed onto him, straddling him. "No reason to waist time, then, is there?"

He grinned and kissed you.

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My Masterlist

"I don't know… I just… like the idea of it," You said. "Truthfully… I was never allowed to celebrate things back home. I was excluded from parties and birthdays and I never got to celebrate my own milestones. I just… wanted to have my own celebrations. That's all."

"Ah," He said, seemingly lost in thought. "I've never celebrated nothing in my life, either. It didn't seem all that important."

"It becomes a lot more important when you watch everyone else get to experience it from the outside," You said. "When is your birthday, by the way?"

"I don't really know," He replied. "The orphanage didn't keep track o' stuff like that. I think I was a summer child, at least."

"Me too," You said. "To be honest… I kind of… forgot when my birthday is. The only one who celebrated it with me was my mother and she died when I was two, and I guess that was just one of the things that died with her."

"Hmm," Takarad hummed. "I ain't all that familiar with how celebrations work. Ain't you supposed to get gifts and eat good food and such?"

"Usually," You said. "It's mostly a way to spend special time with the people you love." You sighed with recollection. "I think the last gift I ever got, besides the wedding gifts, was a doll my mother gave me before she died. My half-sister stole it out of my room when I nine. Then she tore it to shreds and burned it. I think she just didn't want me to have anything that made me happy."

"Why does your family hate you so much?" He asked with a frown. "I understand why folks hate me, after all, I'm a big, mean asshole... but you was just a girl. I don't understand why they've got so much vitriol for a young'un who ain't done nothin' to them."

"Well, it's easy to understand my step-mother and half-siblings hatred of me," You replied. "I'm the eldest, so it's natural to assume that I'd be favored over them, so there's an element of jealousy. Then when it was clear my father disliked me, they copied his attitude because it suited them."

"But why does your pa hate ya?"

"Like I said, I don't really know. I assume it's because of my mother, but I don't know why he hated her, either. Maybe their arrangement was something he didn't want or he grew to hate her after they married, who's to say. I just know he's hated me since the day I was born."

His frown deepened. "It just don't make no sense."

You shrugged. "That's the way it is."

That night, as the two of you were readying for sleep, he sat down on the bed and rubbed his lower back, sighing.

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, there's just a knot in my back I can't reach," He said, twisting a little.

"Oh, I can help," You told him.

"No, you ain't gotta do that. It's nothing, really."

"Don't be silly," You said, climbing onto the bed on your knees. "Where is it?"

"No, honestly, just leave it be, I'll—" His voice died when you pressed your fingers against his shoulders, kneading the muscles. His body went limp and he leaned into your touch. "Lower, please."

You believed that was the first time you ever heard him say the word please. You used your knuckles to rub lower between his shoulder blades. "Here?"

"Lower," He begged. "Between my waist and my ribs."

You found the spot he mentioned and dug your knuckles into it. "Here?"

"Uuuuunnnn," He moaned. "Like that. Keep doin' that."

For several minutes, you massaged the knot slowly. He slumped, completely relaxed, and let you do as you wished. You flipped your hands and used your thumbs and fingers to squeeze the muscles, and he groaned lewdly.

"Does that feel better?" You asked him softly, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Fuck, girl, you keep doin' that and I'll give you anythin' you want," He growled.

You giggled. "Well, what I want right now is to sleep," You said, giving him a few last squeezes before patting the spot softly and letting him go.

"You got it," He said, laying down and stretching. "Here I was thinkin' you'd ask for a raise."

"You could still give me a raise," You said playfully.

He snorted. "I'll think about it."

You laid down next to him and he snuffed the candle. Strangely, though he was always careful to sleep so that the two of you weren't touching, you could feel his back pressed against yours. You blushed, but said nothing.

You felt a subtle shifting in the air, but you couldn't speak as to what it was, you just knew something was different. The room felt different. Takarad's presence felt different. You couldn't put a name to the feeling, so you drove it out of your mind and slept.

The next day around mid-morning, Takarad went out to handle restocking and ordering supplies, which he did once a month. He left you in charge of the tavern, since it was the slow period of the day, and returned before lunchtime. He wouldn't let you see into the bag he'd brought back with him, which you found odd, but you put it out of your mind when he set a ham stuffed roll in front of you for lunch, a rare treat. You grinned at him and thanked him. He huffed through his nose and said it wasn't a big deal.

That night, when the two of you went to bed, you notice something peculiar: there was a brand new wooden hairbrush with boars-hair bristles sitting on the little table. Perplexed, you picked it up and examined it. There were mother of pearl inlays on the back and in the handle. It had a delicate pattern of swans on a lake.

"What's this?" You asked as he came into the room.

"Oh," He said, sounding casual. "I found it. You can have it."

"You found it?" You asked him skeptically.

"Yeah, I found it!" He said, bristling. "Is there a problem with that?! If you don't want it, you can just toss it!"

"I never said I didn't want it," You said, smiling and blushing shyly. "Come here and bend down."

He frowned but obeyed. You touched his right cheek with your hand and kissed his left cheek. He stood up abruptly, grunting in surprise.

You smiled. "Thank you, I love it."

"Yeah… sure," He said, not looking at you. You smiled at his obvious discomfort, but made no comment about it.

Toward the end of summer, other items began appearing on the table: a silver hair stick, a cotton shawl, a trinket box. You asked him every time where they had come from and he said with a gruff voice that he "found" them and not to worry about it in a way that left no bridge for argument. You worried pushing him for an explanation would annoy him, so you left it alone. It made you feel nervous and timid, but also warm and happy.

A few weeks later, another letter addressed to you was left under the door at the tavern. Takarad picked it up and opened it before you could reach it and read it. To your shock, a smile, the first smile you had ever seen on his face, curved his lips.

"Great news," He said to you, grinning and handing you the letter. "You've officially been disowned."

You gasped. "Really?!" You exclaimed excitedly, taking the letter and scanning it excitedly. You jumped up into his arms and hugged him tightly. He made a noise of surprise, but caught you and held you up. "This is definitely a cause for celebration! I'll go to the bakery and get some tarts for dessert tonight! Do you have a preference?"

"Cherry and walnut," He replied as he set you back on your feet. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a few coins, handing them to you. "Get some fresh rye loaves, too. We'll make stew bowls with 'em."

You grinned brightly. "Are you actually going to celebrate with me? Without arguing about it?"

He gave you a dry look. "Don't sass me. Be off with you."

You giggled and scampered out of the door. The tavern had opened by the time you returned, and you rushed to set down the goodies you'd bought in the storage room for later before picking up the tray and beginning your work day as usual.

After a pleasant dinner and dessert, where he congratulated you on successfully being disowned with a toast from a bottle of his good reserve wine, the two of you went upstairs for bed and you spotted another surprise on the table: a salt cellar carved from dark wood and engraved with the image of figs and a little spoon that slid into a slot carved on the side.

"Takarad, really, what is this?" You asked him as he came in behind you.

"What about it?" He asked.

"Why are you doing this? Why do you keep giving me things?"

"Do you not like them?"

"I love them, but that's not the point," You said exasperatedly. "What are all these gifts for?"

He sat down on the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. He didn't answer immediately.

"I just… figured…" He began haltingly. "You said you think you were born in summer, and I got to thinkin'… any day that passed this summer coulda been your birthday. And I thought a lot about what you said… about bein' left out of things… and it just… made me feel kinda bad to think of you as a youngster, sittin' all by yourself when everyone else was havin' a good time…"

You smiled fondly at him and walked up to him, putting your arms around his neck.

"Are you feelin' upset?" He asked, embracing you.

"No," You said. "I feel happy."

"Hugs are for happy, too?"

"Mhm."

"I see."

"It's not fair, though," You said, pulling back. "You've been giving me all these things and I haven't given you anything."

"You don't need to give me nothing," He replied.

"Come on," You pleaded. "Any day could have been your birthday, too. It's only fair that I give you something for your birthday. What would you like?"

"Well…" He started slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "If your offerin'… Could you rub my back again, maybe?"

"Sure, I can," You said brightly. "Lie down on your stomach. I'll do your whole back and put all my muscle into it."

"You won't hear me complainin'," He said, obeying. You knelt next to him, slowly pressing your palms into the muscles of his back. His groan was muffled by the mattress. He closed his eyes and relaxed completely under your touch. You massaged diligently for several minutes, but you realize you had a problem: his back was so broad that you were really only rubbing one side of it.

"Pardon me for a moment," You said, and threw a leg over his back, sitting astride him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, opening his good eye and looking back at you.

"I couldn't reach the other side," You explained. "Is this uncomfortable?"

"Well… no," He said.

"I'll keep going then," You replied. You resumed the massage and worked the muscles all the way up and down his back, rubbing his shoulders and arms too. He grunted and huffed, and you noticed he was slowly becoming tenser. Frowning, you doubled your efforts, rubbing long strokes up and down. That wasn't working, either.

"Roll over," You told him, getting off. "I'll rub your feet, too."

"You don't have to do that," He said, not moving. "That's good enough. Thanks."

"No, really, roll over," You said, pushing him a little. "I might as well give you a full work up."

"No!" He said, rolling away from you. "Leave me be!"

He sat up with his back to you, covering his crotch with his hands, bent over in an effort to hide, clearly embarrassed. Suddenly, you understood: he was aroused. Your heart began to race in your chest. The massage must have been… stimulating. Or maybe it was because you were straddling him.

It was strange. Whenever Bronwyn had become aroused around you, you found it repulsive, but in this case, you found it intriguing and… exciting. Takarad was obviously mortified and trying to hide it, but he couldn't get up or it would be even more obvious. He probably didn't want you to think he was a creep like Bronwyn.

Slowly, you moved to sit next to him and, while his face was turned away, you reached into his lap and moved his hands, slowly stroking him over his clothes. He turned his head to look at you in shock. He didn't move, so you gently caressed him for a minute or two, holding his gaze and gauging his reaction. He seemed completely at a loss for words.

"Do you want me to stop?" You asked him.

He swallowed thickly and didn't answer right away, just stared at you with his eye wide. If you didn't know him better, you'd have sworn he looked… terrified.

"Should I stop?" You asked him again, pulling your hand away.

"No," He breathed. He reached out and grabbed your hand, putting it back on his crotch. "Don't stop."

Holding his gaze, you began to rub him over his clothes again. He was breathing hard, as if he had been running, and rolled his hips to your touch. You went to untie his trousers, and his body tensed.

"You don't have to—" He began, but he stopped speaking when you touched his length directly, groaning in pleasure. You pulled it free of his trousers and began to stroke it slowly. It was rock hard and pulsing in your hand; bright red, pointed, and had soft, fleshy spines all along it. You played with it for a few minutes, listening to his groans and wheezing, and felt yourself becoming wet and beginning to throb between your legs.

"Lie down," You told him.

"What're you gonna do?" He asked apprehensively as he complied.

Instead of answering, you got up and shucked off your undergarments, then threw one leg over him, the both of you still mostly clothed, and sat astride him, his member pressed between the two of you.

"Wait…" He gasped as you sat up and took hold of him, leading him to your entrance. "You sure?"

You nodded. "Do you want me to stop?"

This time, he didn't hesitate to answer. "No," He insisted.

The pointed tip of his cock slipped in with little resistance. You slid slowly and tightly down onto him, and his eye rolled back in his head. He gripped the sheets next to your knees, but avoided touching you directly. The feeling of him inside you stretching you open wide was amazing, and you gasped as you took all of him in. You sat for a moment with him inside, adjusting and enjoying the feeling of him throbbing against your inner walls, before you began to rock your hips on top of him, sliding his cock into and out of you. There was a sinful squelching noise each time you thrust him in.

"Fffuck," He moaned. "That feels so fuckin' good."

"Yeah," You breathed in agreement. You sped up, bracing your hands against his stomach and pushing him in deeper. A sweet, building pressure began to swell at the place where the two of you were connected, and you moaned, closing your eyes. It built and built for several minutes until you began to whimper, riding him fast, before an explosion of pleasure flooded your body, wiping out all thought from your mind. You cried out, rocking more slowly to squeeze out as much ecstasy as you could, before slowing to a stop.

He touched you then, letting go of the sheets to grab your hips tightly and hold you in place. He planted his feet against the mattress and began thrusting up into you fast and hard, your bodies slapping against each other as he pounded into you over and over. You held on for dear life as he bounced you against him, with him growling and hissing breaths between his teeth, his face pulled into a snarl of concentration. He roared as he came inside you, moving your hips against his as he released into you again and again, grunting as each jerk of his body shot more of his seed into you, his body taut underneath you. You felt another wave of pleasure hit your body and you had to hold onto him not to fall over, moaning as the orgasm crested and ebbed.

Eventually, he relaxed, and his hands returned to laying flat on the bed. He didn't look at you, he simply stared at the ceiling as he got his breath back.

You frowned in concern. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

He didn't say anything, just kept staring at the ceiling. After a few moments of silence, he took a large breath, sighed heavily, and said, "…get off me."

You felt a chill in your chest and a pit in your stomach. "Oh, sorry," You said as you moved sideways to the bed. "Am I too heavy?"

He didn't answer you. Instead, he sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, sitting motionless for a few seconds, before standing, putting himself back into his trousers, and leaving the room without a word, shutting the door with a snap.

He… he said he wanted to, didn't he? You asked yourself, your heart dropping. Did I do something wrong?

After a few moments of silent, hurt confusion, you got out of bed, put your undergarments back on, and opened the bedroom door to look down into the tavern. Takarad was down in the bar area, wiping a spot on the bar that was perfectly clean. You descended the steps slowly, watching him move mechanically.

"If you're not gonna sleep, can you bring up some potatoes from the cellar? I'll make hashbrowns for breakfast," He said, not looking at you.

You didn't obey. "Are we not going to talk about what just happened?" You asked him.

"What's there to talk about?" He replied.

"What do you mean? We just made love, Takarad," You said to him.

"No," He said severely. "We just fucked. Don't twist it into something it ain't."

You felt horror and shock, stumbling backward. "Are you saying that it didn't mean anything to you?"

"No, it didn't," He said brusquely. "If you thought somethin' different, that's your own fault. I didn't ask you to do it and I never promised you nothin'."

"So what was it to you, if it didn't mean anything?"

"A good time and that's it," He replied, his voice perfectly even. "A pretty young woman threw herself at me. I did what any man would do in that situation and got my dick wet. There's nothin' more to it than that." He finally looked up at you, his face neutral. "Are you gonna get those potatoes or not?"

It would have hurt less if he had punched you. Tears gathered in your eyes and your lip quivered. You hardened your face and clenched your jaw, turning and opening the door to the cellar with no intention of bringing him potatoes. Instead, you slipped into your bedroll that was still laid out in a corner of the room and wept. Takarad didn't come after you.

Hours later, during which time you didn't sleep, Takarad opened the door and shouted down, "Breakfast!" And shut the door behind him. You didn't get up. A little more time passed, and he opened the door again.

"Are you gonna get out here and do your fuckin' job?" He asked gruffly.

You didn't respond, but you got up out of the bedroll and walked up the cellar stairs and past him, picking up a tray. You took orders as normal, but you didn't speak to anyone more than was necessary. Some of the patrons asked if you were alright, but you walked away without answering.

The day seemed like it was a year long, and finally the last patron left. You set the tray down just as Takarad laid a plate on the bar.

"Here," He said. "Dinner."

You ignored him and went back to the cellar, not bothering to eat. You had no appetite, anyway. You went to the back corner, where you'd previously slept, and sat with your back to the wall, your legs crossed over one another, and sat motionless in silence for a long time.

Much later, in the wee hours of the morning, Takarad came down into the cellar with a plate and tankard on a tray.

"You gotta eat," He said. "You won't be good for nothin' if you starve yourself."

"I'm leaving tomorrow," You told him. "I'll be packed by morning."

"…you don't gotta leave. Don't let your personal feelings fuck up a good opportunity."

"I refuse to live under the same roof with another man who doesn't want me," You said to him numbly. "You're just like every other man I've ever known. My mistake for thinking you were different. I guess I thought too highly of you."

"Seems that way," He replied. "You're too old not to know that all men are the same. I guess this'll just teach you a lesson you won't forget." He sat on the other side of the wall, facing you. "Are you gonna manage to be on time for work if you move outta here?"

You stared at him, frowning. "What, are you stupid? I'm quitting."

"You ain't got to quit," He said, matching your frown. "You still got your job."

"You just don't want to go through the trouble of finding a new bar girl," You said.

"No, that's not…" He said, but stopped. "…yeah, you're right. It's a hassle, so I'd rather you stayed on. There ain't no reason to get rid of a good employee just 'cause I fucked her."

"Stop saying that, you crass bastard," You snapped through gritted teeth. "I gave my body to a man I thought cared for me. The fact that I was mistaken doesn't cheapen my decision."

He was silent for a few minutes. "Are you stayin' in town?"

"No."

"Where will you go?"

"Does it really matter to you?" You shot back.

"I guess it don't," He said. "There's a supply wagon going to Dunmountain tomorrow around midday, if that suits you. You got enough to make it there?"

"I have more than I did when I came here, so that'll be enough," You said. "We'll have to go to the magistrate at dawn to file for an annulment before I leave."

"Will they allow an annulment? We've… consummated and everythin'."

"I'll figure something out."

He hesitated. "Don't you need to stay married to avoid your Pa?"

"No, I'm disowned. I no longer need the shield of marriage to evade my father. I stayed married to you afterward because…" You stopped, unable to say it. "Because it was convenient. Besides, I'm not going to stay married to someone who'd use my body for his own pleasure and expect me to keep working for him as though he hadn't."

Takarad grimaced, but he said, "Yeah… that'd be for the best, then. I guess it's all settled." He grunted a bit as he slowly got to his feet. He looked down at the untouched plate and tankard before turning to leave. "You should eat, if that's the case. You'll need strength for the journey."

"Don't pretend like you care what happens to me," You said, looking away from him. "Whether I make it to Dunmountain or I drop dead on the road, it's not something over which you should worry. When I leave here, you can just forget you ever met me. I will certainly do my best to forget you."

He stood with his back to you for a few moments. You wished he would just go.

"Just eat, alright?" He said, and stepped away, walking back up the steps to the tavern.

You didn't eat.

The next morning at dawn, Takarad walked with you to the magistrate's office in silence.

"What can I do for you folks?" The magistrate asked as the two of you approached his desk.

"We're here for an annulment," You said. "As quickly as possible."

The magistrate seemed taken aback. "For what reason are you filing for an annulment?"

"Impotence," Takarad said immediately before you had time to think of an excuse, and you gaped at him in disbelief. "I lied to her and married her under false pretenses. I can't give her children." His eye cut to you briefly before he continued. "No part of this is her fault."

You stared at him, gobsmacked. From what you knew, men would sooner cut off an arm than admit they were impotent. A large part of their pride was tied to their virility. And anyway, it wasn't even true. Why would he lie about something that could hurt his chances of remarrying?

"Ah, I see," The magistrate said. "Can you affirm this is the truth?"

You hesitated for a moment before answering. "Yes."

"Very well," The magistrate said. "That is a more than valid reason for an annulment. The fee is five gold."

You dug around in your purse for the coins, but Takarad slapped the money down before you could.

"Are we done?" He asked brusquely.

"You just need to sign here, and I'll file it immediately. The marriage will be dissolved by the time you leave the building," The magistrate said, holding out a piece of parchment.

Takarad signed and turned, walking out of the door. You signed after him and followed. He was just outside, as if waiting for you, but started walking without saying a word once you stepped outside. You followed him at a distance back to the tavern.

Packing took no time at all, since you had nothing but your clothing and bedroll. You left all the gifts that Takarad had given you, including the little knife, in a pile in the cellar. Before long you were standing outside a covered wagon bound for Dunmountain. It was a supply wagon laden with crates and sacks, but you had bartered for space on it and paid more than you would have liked. Even so, you were leaving.

"You didn't have to come," You said to Takarad, who had followed you out to the departure site.

"The least I could do is see ya off." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small drawstring sack, holding it out to you. "Here."

You frowned and didn't take it. "What is it?"

"It's just a little extra coin," He said, still ready to hand it to you. "To help you get settled in the new place, wherever you end up."

"Why?"

"I just…" He started, but hesitated. "You done me a lot of… favors. I felt like you earned it."

Your face hardened in anger. "Don't treat me like a whore."

"No, I… That's not what I—"

"I don't need it," You said, walking away.

He dropped his arm, awkwardly silent. He reached down to pick up your bag, likely to put it in the back of the wagon for you, but you snatched it out of his reach before he could touch it and threw it in the back.

"Do you need a leg up?" He asked, starting toward you.

"No," You snapped, and he stopped. "Go home."

He didn't obey, but he stopped trying to help you.

You climbed with some difficulty into the back of the wagon but you refused to turn to him, as you'd sooner lay flat in the road than admit you needed help to get in, and sat as comfortably as you could in the middle of the sacks of grain and crates of potatoes. Takarad walked up to the back of the wagon and called your name softly. You debated ignoring him, but you looked up.

"What?" You asked impatiently.

He cleared his throat. "I just wanted to say… no matter where you go or what you do…" He said quietly. "I wish you… nothin' but the best in all things. That's all."

You stared at him, feeling a range of emotions from sadness to hatred to rage, but all you could manage to say to him was a flat, emotionless: "…yeah."

The wagon began to move, and you faced forward, leaving Takarad standing there in the clearing, the bag of coins still in his hand.

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My Masterlist

“Caldarus,” You murmur, yawning and half asleep. “I have to go.”

You wish you didn’t have to. That you could stay laying beside him all day long and until the stars started to appear in the sky. But your farm couldn’t do without you for much longer, selfish as you were to sneak away promptly after your morning chores. Not to mention the requests you still had to fulfill…

The guardian of Mistria heaves out a long disappointed sigh, and you open your eyes to see a troubled frown on his handsome face. You press your lips together, stifling a smile. It felt good to know that Caldarus missed you just as much as you missed him when the two of you were apart.

“I regret to see you go. But…if you must.” Caldarus says, slowly opening his eyes, blinking away the sleepiness of your shared midday nap. “Mistria would certainly be worse for wear if I kept you all to myself.”

Once his vision returns, Caldarus tilts his head and stares at you for a moment. His troubled expression lingers. You wonder what’s on his mind. Perhaps an old memory of his had resurfaced? They weren’t always pleasant, as Caldarus had confessed to you, which led him to becoming quiet and distant at times, much to your worry. 

“Caldarus? Is something wrong?”

Instantly, the dragon man’s troubled expression melts away and his golden eyes soften as he regards you fondly.

“My apologies, I was just lost in thought. What tasks do you need to attend to today?”

You sit up beside him, and Caldarus follows. He reaches for your boots, and places them by your feet. You thank him before working to slip them back on.

“Oh, not much. Just fulfilling a request for Holt, refilling the auto feeders, putting the extra turnips I harvested into the shipping bin, and then…” 

Your words trail off the instant you recall what you have planned for the late afternoon. Caldarus’ claws brush along your side, caressing you tenderly as he patiently waits for you to continue. Your eyes follow where he’s touching and a soft heat slowly spreads across your skin from the place he’s pampering. It occurs to you then that Caldarus has been a lot more…touchy as of late.

“Seridia has also requested my presence this afternoon.”

Caldarus instantly freezes, his gentle expression falling into one of ill disguised irritation as he digests your words.

“Ah.” He responds curtly. “I see.”

The mention of the Witch Queen is always a sore point of contention for Caldarus. But surprisingly, despite his clear disdain for the other dragon (and vice versa), he has never made you feel guilty for having helped her, or for having ended up awkwardly sworn to the two of them. 

‘It is your nature to help others.’ Caldarus had explained on that day as he walked you back to your farm. 

‘To be angry at you for something like that…I may as well be angry at the wind for blowing, or the sun for shining. Truthfully, I am angry at myself. For not seeing it sooner, for not reaching you in time, and for not protecting you like a dragon should.’

Heaving a sigh, you move to get up, but Caldarus’s gentle hands capture your sides and guide you back down onto the blanket. You look over your shoulder at him, surprised at his bold gesture. Caldarus was always careful with you, but the way he’d maneuvered you just now…

“Your hair,” Caldarus says quietly, fingers threading along your unruly tresses that had come undone during your nap. “It’s tangled. Please, allow me…”

Like gentle morning rain, Calcarus’ claws comb through your hair. His smile is soft, private, and just for you as he dutifully untangles and smooths each strand. Each movement, every little spark of contact, is revering. As if you were something divine. Something worthy of worship from this great dragon.

You can feel your heart pound in your chest, your breath coming out in quiet, fluttery waves. Caldarus, seemingly oblivious to just how much his affectionate touches are affecting you, picks up one of the marigolds he had picked for you, knowing that you loved to always have a bouquet of both them and the temple flowers at your kitchen table.

“You truly are exquisite.” Caldarus whispers, slipping the blossom into your hair and pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. “In the long centuries I have lived, my heart has never felt so at ease. I’ve never shared such tender moments with anyone, and I want you to know that I truly treasure each moment we spend together.”

Heat rises from your chest and settles brazenly on your cheeks as Caldarus continues to adorn your hair with flowers. Although a novice to human courtship (and courtship in general), Caldarus has a way with words that makes you both melt but also feel so incredibly…smitten. Every word is laced with his unabashed sincerity, enduring curiosity, and a subtle yet burning passion that simmers beneath the surface. 

But, to be honest, sometimes his cryptic words drive you crazy. Because you can never really tell if he is speaking innocently from the heart, or if he means something more…

“Caldarus…”

The dragon’s hands circle your waist and pull you back against him. Your back hits Caldarus’ chest with a light thump. You look up, a little startled.

“Caldarus, what’s go—”

And before you can finish, his lips seal yours with a kiss.

This kiss is unlike any Caldarus had given you in the past. It’s bold. Hot and searing, like a brand or a vow. One that reveals a deep and painful longing, carrying with it feelings that transcend the stars and even time.

You gasp into his mouth, and Caldarus groans with satisfaction, deepening the kiss to savor your taste. Your heart, your skin, your every sound. Caldarus indulges in every part you’re willing to share.

“Caldarus,” You manage to breathe against his lips, desperate and pleading. “I want to stay. You know I do. But I can’t.”

Caldarus suddenly lays you back down onto the picnic blanket. He hovers over you, the glow of his golden eyes replacing the radiant light from the sun above. Your entire body shudders, and you feel a strange wave of magic surround you, tingling and crackling like an electric current over your skin. 

“Just one moment longer, my dragonsworn.”

My dragonsworn.

Caldarus has called you that many times in the past. But this time it feels…different. Like a sparrow calling across a twilight taiga for its other half. Forlorn, but with tremendous hope in its heart. Just like you had been before you set foot in Mistria.

You nod your assent, and Caldarus kisses you again. Passionate and fiery, his body bears down on yours. Gentle but firm. As if he couldn’t bear any more distance. As if he couldn't get close enough. His tongue shyly caresses your lips, and you feel your insides clench deliciously as you accept him. Heart pounding in your ears.

Just as you’re about to run out of air, Caldarus releases your lips, pressing tender kisses to your cheeks as you gasp for breath.

You whimper his name, arching as his lips travel along your jaw, then down your neck.

The thrill that climbs up your spine as Caldarus’ fangs brush against your neck, leaves you wide eyes and breathless. He’s gentle as always, leaving little love bites as he goes. But then he finds a place, a sensitive little spot on your neck that makes your back curl deliciously into him. 

Caldarus moans under his breath, sucking at your flesh more harshly than you initially anticipate. It aches and burns a little, but it feels so incredibly good. A soft, airy whimper escapes you, and Caldarus responds with a rumbling purr that nearly drives you insane. Impulsive, your fingers dig and grip at his soft robes, pulling him closer, wanting more.

Then suddenly, Caldaru’s lips release your throat, and the two of you (in your dizzy love drunk frenzy) just stare at one another. Eyes hooded, panting and disheveled, the desire that lingers is still thick and sizzling. Caldarus smiles warmly, his amber gaze appraising you for just a moment before he reaches for your hair and adjusts a marigold that had fallen.

“Will you come back tonight?”

Your heart skips a beat at his request. Was this an innocent invite for supper like before? Or was Caldarus asking you to actually spend the night with him? 

“Um…sure, but it might not be until later. I need to make sure my animals are fed and back inside before I come back up here.”

Caldarus nods.

“I’ll meet you at your farm. Allow me to help you with your chores. Then, I’ll walk you back here and make dinner for you.”

Your stomach tightens at the thought of having to fill your belly with Caldarus’ cooking after a long day of work. His gestures are so kind, and truly it is the thought that counts but…well, maybe you can grab a quick bowl of soup at the Sleeping Dragon Inn on your way up…

“Oh…ah well thank you! How thoughtful!”

Caldarus catches your hesitation. His gentle laugh lets you know that he’s caught you red handed.

“I know that look. Worry not. I’ll have Reina help me prepare it.”

You heave a sigh of relief, then smile and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. Caldarus blinks, surprised.

“This kiss is new. Is kissing on the nose usual amongst humans? It is a sign of gratitude?”

“It is.” You say, reaching up to press another tender kiss to his lips.

“A sign of my gratitude and…my affection.”

(***)

You open the doors to Seridia’s home, squinting for a moment at the gleam of her brilliant golden decor shining in the lavender firelight.

“There you are!” Seridia calls, standing up and circling around her desk to meet you. Ever confident, the Witch Queen always leaves you in awe at her presence.  “You have quite some nerve to keep me waiting…”

Before you can respond, Seridia abruptly stops and stares at you. Really stares at you. You can practically feel her sharp, predatory gaze traveling up and down your form, stopping to linger at your hair and on your neck. Uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze, you shift your weight from foot to foot.

“What?” You ask with a half laugh, looking yourself over but finding nothing amiss. “Is there something wrong? Do I have something weird on my—”

Seridia’s hearty, booming laughter interrupts you, echoing like a melody across her chambers. She laughs and laughs, and you, completely oblivious to the source of her amusement, simply stare at the dragon queen.

“What’s so funny?”

Seridia’s laughter subsides as she makes her way towards you. Before you know it, her clawed fingers reach up to brush along your hair. When she pulls away, a marigold sits prettily on her fingertips.

“How delightful,” Seridia chuckles, grinning wide with amusement. “I can see now that this arrangement is really getting under that worm’s skin.” 

You blink. Utterly confused. Getting under Caldarus’ skin? Didn’t the three of you agree to a truce? 

Seridia smiles at your confused expression.

“Oh my dear. I forget, you’re new to the affairs of dragons.”

Seridia studies the flower in her claws.

“Allow me to enlighten you then. Dragons are avaricious creatures by nature. We are powerful, stubborn and steadfast, and extremely territorial over those we deem worthy of our protection.”

The Witch Queen twirls the tender blossom in her fingers for a moment longer, then she grins, crushing the flower in her powerful hands before closing the distance between the two of you. You’re frozen in place as Seridia’s fingers reach and touch the tender spot on your neck.

“In short,” Seridia clicks her tongue. “Dragons don’t like to share.”

It all hits you at that exact moment.

The marigolds and temple flowers Caldarus placed in your hair. That bold kiss. The tender bite he left on your neck. These weren’t just passionate frivolities of the moment. They were deliberate. A bold proclamation of who exactly Seridia (or any other) would have to contend with should they take too many liberties.

Seridia’s thumb circles over the bruise on your throat, her eyes narrowing. You can feel a crackling spark on your skin, hot like fire, but with no pain. When Seridia pulls her hand away to inspect it, you are shocked to see a nasty scorched circle mar the pad of her thumb. It disappears quickly. Almost as quickly as you’ve seen it.

Magic. And powerful magic at that. Strong enough to wound even Seridia.

“Dragons especially hate sharing those they intend to claim as their mate.” Seridia’s red eyes flash back to yours. “Given how far that traitorous worm has gone for you, it’s actually quite hilarious that it’s taken him this long to get around to it.”

Your cheeks heat up at the memory of Caldarus' request from earlier that day.

“Will you come back tonight?”

“Oh.” You whisper, a cocktail of embarrassment and excitement bubbling in your gut, your mind swirling a thousand miles a minute. “Y–you think so?”

Seridia immediately takes notice of your sorry, frazzled state and gives into another bout of delighted laughter.

“Oh come now, don’t be embarrassed! This is wonderful news! With you as our shared dragonsworn, and Caldarus pining for you every second of the day…” A wicked grin spreads across Seridia’s face, sending a chill down your spine.

“Oh yes, just think of all the wonderful possibilities.”

Frowning, you cross your arms and nail the dragon queen with a hard glare.

“Seridia,” You warn. “Don’t torment him.”

Seridia flicks her wrist, dismissing your warning as if it were a mere annoying insect. 

Since then, you took it upon yourself to visit Caldarus with every morning from that point on. From the very moment you woke up, you quickly cycled through your homesteading chores before arranging a basket packed to the brim to take with you. Fragrant herbs that were plucked from your fields and soft baked bread often made an appearance, as well as any wild roots harvested along the way—it all made it into the basket. Caldarus never asked much from you and yet every time you stepped foot into his temple, he could never bring himself to turn you away.

After all, he felt something that went beyond affection for you for a while now.

(And yet, he could never bring himself to quite say it.)

“Good morning,” you spoke, catching him tending to his garden, taking note of his dazed, almost dreamy expression. “Is your head up in the clouds again?” you asked after a couple of seconds had passed, blinking up to the skies before setting your focus back down at him.

He turned to face you, his amber eyes locking onto yours. Cherry blossom petals filtered through the warm spring air, painting you in the pleasant morning light. “You always come so early,” Caldarus fussed, branching out a hand to take the basket and settling it onto the soft grass.

“It just feels rude to make you wait now that you’re awake,” you assured him with a smile. “Besides, have you forgotten what I do? I’m up early every day. Talking to you is just part of my daily routine at this point.”

Caldarus slightly huffed, turning his head away for a second. He sank his frustrations into tugging away at the weeds that plagued his garden instead, his voice reducing to a slight murmur, sounding almost disapproving, “Yes, when I had been in my dormant form …it’s different now.”

You rolled your eyes in response to his attempt to distance himself. He had a bad habit of doing that, as you noticed. “Stop. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest, I like talking to you.”

You meant every word, too. You were never going to stop visiting him, no matter how much he fretted about the matter. There wasn’t anyone else quite like him that you cared about to this extent. Caldarus, after all, had been with you from the very moment that you got here. He had a special place in your heart for that reason alone.

His lips curled into a reluctant smile, a faint crease forming against his clay skin, long ashen from the weakness that just wouldn’t leave him. The softness in his eyes made your heart race whenever you caught a glimpse. Caldarus was never one to shy away from his emotions, especially as of late, but something else had changed in him lately that made you understand that the way he looked at you wasn’t just friendly anymore. Something else lurked in his gaze, both piercing and longing and it was becoming more and more obvious with each passing day.

You watched him sift through today’s offering, his hands working to push up the loose threads that draped around his form. His body was less sickly than when he first awoke, with faint traces of muscle resorted in his earthy complexion. Bruises that once mapped the fine contours of his flesh were now faded too, leaving behind near polished skin.

“That’s chamomile,” you chirped as his eyes settled in on a cluster of flowers resembling daisies but not quite, taking a tentative step forward, careful not to trip over his wandering tail.

You learned the hard way earlier on that the mindless swish of his tail was a hazard to your safety, threatening to trip you over should you not watch where you’re going. The last time it happened, you were driven face-first into his freshly sown flowerbeds, messing up the plot entirely. He wasn’t upset—never with you—but you couldn’t help but hold onto the guilt you still felt.

“And a few other things from the look of it,” he mused, examining the contents with a satisfied hum.

You smiled at his warm words. “When combined, it’s all supposed to help you sleep better, I know how you’ve been…”

As you trailed off, Caldarus went silent, a flash of conflicted sadness sweeping across his features, his face moulding into something unreadable. “You do too much for me,” he faintly protested.

“Yes,” you replied, “because you saved me.”

A frustrated sigh left his lips, and within a measured sweep, he gathered the gifts you brought, taking them back inside. Caldarus set his jaw tightly, refusing to show his terse demeanour to you, working hard to find his composure once more. His inner demons were his burden to bear, not yours, but try as he might, they wouldn’t leave him no matter how hard he fought back. If you were to know more about who he was—if you saw him for what he really was—then he was certain that he would scare you off.

This form that he wore was less threatening, so you stayed.

He wasn’t a danger to you (for the time being).

However, his internalised brooding wasn’t as subtle as he thought. You saw right through him. Taking a step forward, you pushed through the walls that he kept trying to build around him, adopting a determined tone, setting your posture straight. “I’m not afraid of you – you understand that, right?”

Caldarus tensed. It was as if you had read his mind. He caught you by your name, still trying to push you away. Don’t get him wrong. He was thankful for your gifts, for your company, for you and yet—

“Whatever form you take on doesn’t matter to me,” you pushed through again, “because I care about you.”

Finally, he paused, his tail curling around his legs as if to soothe his rising nerves. He was never an angry creature, but the idea of accidentally causing you harm was what ate away at him this whole time. If such a possibility didn’t exist, then he would have accepted your affections sooner.

“I… I just don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted his thoughts out loud at last, taking a step back to lean against the wall and letting his long teal hair splay against the surface. His fingers tweezed at the bridge of his nose as he tried to will away the nerves, his eyes screwing shut, and yet, the worry only continued to fester and rise to a near scalding boil.

“But you won’t,” you insisted, taking a step forward, closing the distance that he tried so hard to bridge. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his body, as if it burned through his skin. You could smell the soft scent of dusty pine that he always seemed to carry, you could almost taste—

His breath caught, the words that he tried to utter came out choked, “You don’t know that.”

A tense silence settled between the two of you—oppressively thick and charged. His hands fell to his side in surrender, but then cautiously, he lifted it back to level along your jaw. His fingertips ghosted along your skin, tracing along the body of someone undeniably human. His golden eyes settled intensely on your face, as if to memorise your features, and then, as if possessed by a trance, he gave into a long denied but dearly anticipated temptation.

His rigid touch thawed into the press of his palm, his other hand joining to cup around your cheeks. Slowly, he dipped his lips onto yours and pressed them into a longing kiss. He gasped softly as he heard the creak of the floorboards beneath where you stood as you rose onto your toes to lean into him further—determined to meet with his physical confession—near climbing him to prove that you felt the same.

You held your lips against his for as long as you could, until your breathing faltered and an unseen force willed you take a step back. Caldarus, too, was left gasping for more. It was as if any shred of reluctance had finally melted away and was replaced by an almost inhuman ache that screamed for need.

Your eyes, equally glazed with longing and a deeper feeling you couldn’t quite explain, continued to murmur snippets of of conformation into his eager ears, “I spoke to you everyday, Caldarus, even when you were still stone,” you whispered, leaning impossibly closer, “I talked to you through the rain and the frost, I covered you to protect you from storms, I brought blankets to keep you warm, I decorated around you, I—”

Confidence rose through his depths, a confession that was good as any was what he already had—he already promised that he wouldn’t hurt you, needing more of you however soon possible—every fiber of his being was screaming at him to give in. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he then made a decision. Ever so gently, he flipped you so that your back was pushed up against the wall of his home instead.

You gasped sharply as the cool walls kissed your back, the panes pressing into your shoulder blades with unintentional harshness. His touch was strong, and yet it wasn’t threatening—only was it hungry in the way the longing often were. His hands, so large and warm, calloused from working the grounds everyday—framed around your face like you were his greatest treasure, holding onto you with pure softness.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated himself in a desperate plea, leaning his forehead against yours.

Though before you could respond, likely to scold him about his insistent worrying, he deepened the kiss, pushing into you with such rawness that it almost broke you. Again and again, he swallowed down your breathless gasps, repeating his promise like a worshipful mantra, “I don’t want to hurt you—”

Caldarus carried the kiss over to his bed, walking you back on pure muscle memory alone. He sat you down gently, unable to quite tear his lips off of yours, not even as you fell to your back, sinking into the mattress—not even as he crawled over you, hovering over your body, kneeling to push your legs apart.

You blinked up at his disheveled form, dazed and mesmerised at the sight of you. He mapped out his hands wherever he could reach, gently undressing you as his own clothes followed suit just as swiftly as yours fell off. His arousal quickly grew more obvious as he lost himself in your presence, grinding against your body from pure instinct alone.

Caldarus then paused to give you a moment to breathe, reaching down to feel his throbbing erection. With a look of anticipated focus, his eyes twitched with fevered excitement, guiding himself into your now exposed, glistening heat. Slowly, gently, he tested the waters while looming over you, his brows furrowed, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip. “Careful,” he warned breathlessly, “this might feel…. unpleasant, I’m sorry.”

You let out a choked laugh at the slight brag. “What? Are you saying that you’re that bi—oh!”

“Forgive me,” he gasped, blinking his eyes shut as he both savoured the first time you both shared together, while also begging for you to excuse the potential discomfort, “you’re not in pain are you?”

Silence fell upon your lips as you felt the tip of his cock breach your aroused walls, taking it upon yourself to widen your legs and wiggle your hips, working hand in hand to take him in. Caldarus breathed heavily as he felt his tip kiss your depths, pulling back slightly when he noticed your strained reaction. The decision was instant. Pain was not something he wanted to cause, even if his joining with you in such a way was already pulling him apart at the seams. How alive he felt as your skin brushed against his—as you swallowed him whole—so achingly perfect.

Slowly, almost reverently, he then began to move, rolling his hips into your needy core and then back a little. Caldarus set a sensual and loving pace before returning his lips to where they belonged, against your own, supporting himself on his forearms while leaning over you.

“Is this okay?” he softly asked.

Your gasps rolled in shuddering waves from your throat, your breath hitching as you struggled to adjust to his size, but god, were you determined! Feeling your eyes fluttering shut, you smiled at him for checking in on you. “Y-yeah, this… th-this is nice.”

Gradually, too, it did become easier to take him in fully. You were split open wide, but you were beaming from both the arousal that flooded you as well as the accepted confession, feeling utterly blissful from just how things were.

“I…” Caldarus hesitated, wanting more, spoke into your mouth as he continued to feed you an impossible flurry of endless kisses, “I need you so badly, but I don’t want to hur—”

Within a flash, you shut him up before shooting your arms to fly around his back, pulling him in as close as you could. “I want this,” you assured him, “I want this, I want this just as much as you do, and I want you.”

Not needing to be told twice, Caldarus finally read into the hint and took it upon himself to fold your knees to your chest, thrusting further into your sex. His girth filled out your insides while he held down your legs, keeping them apart and pressed up against your body, pounding needily into you in hard—but not painful—deep strokes. His tail snaked in around your mostly bare form, cinching around wherever it could possessively, protectively, keeping you as secure as possible.

He swallowed up your moans with desperate kisses, moving to intertwine your hands with his own, squeezing your fingers tightly as he felt you begin to come undone. Just as quickly, though, he let go of one hand, dipping his thumb to rub feverish circles around your clit, pushing himself into you with wild force. Your legs quivered and your voice turned strained, until finally—

“I-I…” you gasped, “oh god—“

A surging flooding warmth swept across your lower stomach, coiling hard before letting loose into crashing pleasure that pooled in your core. Your legs felt weak and as did your lungs—your breath stolen away in the heat of the moment—and yet it didn’t stop.

(Not that it was a problem. You were elated and to an extent, thoroughly blissed out.)

Caldarus let out a soft whine as your legs squeezed right around him, suppressing a cry and yet muttering your name on repeat as if it belonged to a prayer while he found his own peak. With a stuttering thrust of completion, he collapsed over your body fully spent, painting your insides with his flustered want and need.

The two of you panted and shuddered in an attempt you catch both of your breath, and yet you didn’t part for even a second. Caldarus studied you with tender eyes, on occasion rolling his hips against yours for a final few times before melting over you entirely.

“You make me feel so complete,” he confessed, “I’ll never get tired of wanting you.”

“I’m so glad to hear you say that,” you yawned a response in return, tracing a featherlight path along his face, feeling along the softness of his silken hair that fell upon your fingers and then his rooting horns. To think your lover was so perfect and finally yours. “I’m so very glad.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, and your body relaxed.

You finally felt like you were at peace.

He spun around on his heel and looked affronted. “Whoever said such a thing? Sure, I’m a mean old grump who don’t know how to be nice to folks, but that don’t mean I hate ya.” 

“Oh,” You said, stunned. You wondered how he treated people he did hate, then. “Will you… come here and talk to me about this? It’s not something that can be decided on a whim. Marriage is a serious thing.” 

“I know that full well,” He said, though he did put down his knife and wipe his hands, coming over to sit on one of the stools. It creaked under his weight. “Look, I ain't never had a mind to marry. To be honest, I was a mean little shit when I was a boy, and I ain’t gotten much better with age. Women tend to be scared o’ me, so I ain’t never been close to none. I ain’t the sweet, affectionate sort, if ya couldn’t tell. I’m old now, and I expected to die without ever getting hitched. If you marry me, you ain’t riskin’ nothin’, and if you’ve a mind to stick with me 'til the end to fend off your pa and this baron asshole, then you’ll be free of me when I die. Shouldn’t be that long, I figure.” 

You frowned. “I don’t find that particularly comforting.”

He stood up off of the stool and knelt in front of you a little awkwardly, but he looked you straight in the eye. “If you do decide to go through with it… marryin' me, I mean… I don’t know what kinda husband I’ll be to ya, since I ain’t never been married before, but I can promise I won’t ever hit ya or beat ya, and I won’t touch ya if ya don’t want me to. You can still work here, and I’ll still pay ya a wage. If you decide to split with me after a safe amount o’ time, you can save up for when ya strike out on your own, or whatever you decide to do.”

You sniffled and blinked rapidly, on the verge of tears again. “You’d really do that for me?” 

“Well, sure,” He repeated. “If it’ll help ya out.” 

“That’s just about the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me,” You said. 

“You must not know all that many good folks, I wager,” He said seriously. 

You lowered your gaze. “Not really.” 

“Hmm,” He hummed. He sat down on the ground from his kneeling position and rested his elbow on the stool. “What made ya think I hated ya?” He asked in curiosity. 

“You were pretty mean to me when I first came here. You’re not all that nice now.” 

“I’m pretty mean to everyone, not just you,” He said dryly. “To be blunt, I didn’t feel any type o’ way towards ya when I first met ya. If anything, I was impressed ya didn’t turn ‘round and leave as soon as ya saw me. First one who didn’t, actually. My sunny disposition doesn’t suit most folks, ya know, but I never hated ya.”

“You didn’t do much to reassure me to the contrary,” You said. 

“I didn’t owe ya nothin’,” He sniffed. 

You laughed a little, but sobered. “It’s just that… the way you behaved at first… it reminded me of my father. He hates me, of that I am certain.”

“Or are you just assumin’ that, like you did with me? How do you know he hates ya?” 

“He’s told me,” You said in a small voice. “He tells me all the time. He’s never told me why, but I assume it’s because of my mother, because he hated her, too. Their marriage was arranged, which he seems fine with, but there was something about her he simply couldn’t stand, and I must have inherited it. Maybe I look too much like her, I don’t know. All he ever tells me is what a burden I am to him and how he can’t wait to marry me off and get me out of his house. He’d have had me married off much sooner, but he wanted to be sure he’d find someone who treats me just as badly as he does.”

“Shit, girl,” He said softly.

"When I was little…" You said slowly. "I thought he was just a cruel person who was mean to everyone, but when he remarried my stepmother and my half-siblings were born… he’s like a different person to them. He’s kind to them, he smiles at them. I don't know what I did to make him hate me, but I would have done anything to fix it when I was growing up." You sighed heavily. “I don’t know why he’s so obsessed with my misery. It would have been far better if he were just indifferent towards me. At least then he wouldn’t enjoy my suffering so much.” 

“Who could call such a man a father?” He mumbled, sounding taken aback.

You looked down at him where he sat. “What was your father like?” 

“Dunno, never met him,” He said. “I grew up in an orphanage.” 

“The one in Coleville?”

He shook his head. “Nah, the one I was at don’t exist no more. All for the better, really; it was a shitty place. You had to grow up mean to survive it.”

“That explains a lot,” You said with a smile. 

He snorted. “I guess… if I had to say… the man who gave me this tavern would be the closest thing I had to a father. I didn’t meet him till I was in my late thirties and had lived a hard life as a mercenary, but he gave me a new purpose when I lost this.” He motioned at his missing right eye. “About the only person who ever thought I was good for anythin’.”

“He sounds like a good person,” You said, smiling fondly. 

“Aye, he was,” He agreed. He fell silent after that, looking into the middle distance and seeing something you couldn't.

“Do you think… he’ll be back?” You asked, nodding toward the door.

“Not if he knows what’s good for ‘im,” Takarad said with a sneer. “I’m more concerned he’ll have that papa o’ yers in tow if he does.” 

“Trust me, I’m worried about that, too,” You admitted, frowning. “I genuinely hoped to never see either of them again.” 

“Well… for now, don’t you go worryin’ that curly little head o’ yers,” He said, poking the corner of your down-turned mouth with his thick pointer finger, and you smiled. “We’ll handle it if it comes. No sense getting your knickers in a twist about it right now.” 

“You’re right,” You told him, taking a large breath.

"So… whatcha think?" He asked slowly. "About my offer."

You smiled shyly. "If it wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience to you, I'd like to accept. Thank you."

"S'fine," He replied. He stood up and went back behind the bar, the conversation apparently over. “Ya oughtta go to bed. We got a full day tomorrow.”

The next day, the first proper cold day of winter, the two of you went down to the magistrate’s office to file for a marriage license. It was the first time the tavern was closed during the breakfast rush in many years, but there was nothing for it. 

Marrying Takarad didn't take long at all, it turns out. All you needed to do was sign two copies of a marriage license and verify that you consented to marry Takarad, as in you weren't being coerced into doing it, in front of everyone at the magistrate's office, which was quite a few people since it was in town hall. Takarad seemed uncomfortable with so many eyes on him during the affair, and seemed anxious to leave. He was given one of the marriage licenses to keep, and the two of you went back to the tavern to open up.

When you arrived at the tavern, there was a letter nailed to the front door addressed to you. Takarad yanked the nail out of the wood and handed the letter to you. You stared at it, but put it in your bag without reading it. Takarad grunted but said nothing.

The work day went by slowly but uneventfully, and at the end of it when the last patron left, Takarad bolted the door and turned to you.

"Didja read the letter?" He asked.

You shook your head. "I know the contents are probably unpleasant. I didn't want to be upset while I was taking orders."

"That's fair," He replied. "Are you gonna read it? 'Cause I'd recommend just chuckin' it, myself. No reason to let the bastard ruin your weddin' day."

You smiled softly. "It is my wedding day, isn't it?" You said. "I hadn't thought of it like that." You sighed and cracked the wax seal on the letter. "I might as well. It may be the last words I ever receive from my father."

Takarad leaned against the bar with his arms crossed. "If you say so."

The letter read:

To my delinquent daughter,

You are the product of your irksome mother, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you decided to cause me trouble at the very moment you were to be the most useful to me. You owe me for feeding and housing your disagreeable personage for all your miserable years, and you will do your duty as my daughter or I will ensure you regret ever having been born, do you understand?

Baron Bronwyn has been gracious enough to take someone as plain and contrarian as you as his wife in exchange for your dowry, and I get access to the land he owns. Bronwyn is under-utilizing the resources he possesses, and needs me to guide him to his fortune. Not only will you be the daughter of the most wealthy baron in the country, but you will also be the wife of the second most wealthy baron in the country. This is a perfect opportunity for you to make up for the deficiencies of your birth, and you've decided to squander it. While I knew you to be a fool, I did not imagine you would be this stupid.

Be useful for once in your godforsaken life and return. If you do not, then you are of no use to me and you might as well be dead. Goodness knows I'd be at ease, were that the case. If you cannot perform your role as a noble child, do both of us a kindness and exit this world of your own accord.

Return with Bronwyn and marry him as I command. Or just die. Either way, you'll no longer be my problem.

Signed,

Baron Corbin Ronnel By the time you were finished reading, you were sobbing uncontrollably. Takarad yanked the letter out of your hands and read it, scowled blackly, and tore it to shreds, flinging the pieces into the cooking fire.

"God," He said. "I didn't really believe your pa was as bad as you said, but he certainly proved me wrong."

"He's always been like that," You said. "If I wasn't confined to my little room in the attic, I was dragged before him so he could complain loudly at me. That letter is about what I'd expect. Except…" You sniffled. "I didn't expect him to tell me to kill myself. I knew he hated me, but that's a level I couldn't have imagined."

You wept into your hands for a little while as Takarad stood awkwardly nearby, watching.

"Look," He began uncomfortably. "He can't make you do nothing. You're hitched. Him and that Bronwyn prick are shit outta luck. He's just lashin' out at you because he's pissed off you aren't being the good little slave he raised. You're safe right now. Right?"

You nodded. "I understand."

“If you get it, then stop fuckin' cryin'!” He shouted.

You took an instinctive step backward, shrinking and lowering your head. The tone in his voice caused more tears to gather in your eyes. “I'm sorry.”

“No, I… fuck,” He said, and when you looked up again, he was scrubbing his face with his hands. “I didn't mean to snap at ya, s’my fault. Sorry. I just… dunno what to do when women cry. It makes me uneasy.”

“Could you… hug me, maybe?” You suggested boldly, surprising yourself. 

“Aye?” He replied, equally surprised. “Would that help?”

“Immensely,” You said. “No one has held me since my mother died. It always made me feel better when I was little. And your fur looks soft. I was curious what it felt like.”

“You won’t feel odd, huggin’ a stranger like me?” 

“You’re hardly a stranger,” You reminded him. “I've known you half a year already. And you’re my husband now, right? We’re married. You're the only person I could ask.”

“I s'pose that's so,” He said quietly, contemplative, and knelt down, opening his arms. “If you're sure… C'mere, then.”

You approached him and stepped into his arms, putting yours around his neck and burying your face in the fluff of his mane. His hands went around you cautiously, as though he'd never embraced a woman before, and settled around your back.

“Is this better?” He asked.

“Yes,” You replied. “This feels nice. Thank you.”

“If it helps,” He said, muffled against your hair. “I don’t mean to be like this all the time. The yellin’, I mean. I’m just… a loudmouth and don’t think things through before I open my big yap. I’m not used to comfortin’ folks or bein’... friendly-like."

You chuckled. "I'd never have guessed."

He snorted into your ear. "Bein' an asshole has been enough to fix all my problems in the past, even if it caused the problems in the first place, and I s’pose I don’t know how to stop. Been one all my life and it suited me pretty well. Til’ now, I guess.” 

You snickered. “That’s alright. You said sorry. No one’s ever told me they were sorry before. And you can learn how to be nice, you know.”

“I dunno,” He said with a laugh in his voice, or the closest thing to a laugh you’d heard him make. “I’m an old cat now and I don’t know how open I am to learnin’ new shit, but I could try. I don’t think there are too many folks I care all that much about comfortin’, to be frank. Just you, maybe.”

“That’s alright, too,” You told him, cuddling him in tighter. “Granted, I’m not all that familiar with how to do it either, but I know what feels bad. I can teach you not to do those things. If you like, I mean. We are going to be married for a while, after all. At the very least, we could be friends, right? It would make sense if we could actually support and take care of each other, even if it's just an arrangement of convenience.” 

“Sounds alright to me,” He said, pulling away a little. “Feelin’ better now?” 

“Yes, much. Thank you,” You told him, releasing him.

“S’fine,” He said, and a shadow of a smile creased the sides of his mouth. “What’s a husband for?” 

You flushed a little. “If we want to sleep before the breakfast rush, we better get this place cleaned up.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Takarad said, standing straight and reaching for the broom. “After you.” 

Tidying didn't take much time, and when you were done, you made to go down into the basement and sleep, but he stopped you.

"It's… uh…" He began slowly. "It's the first day of winter and it's gonna be really cold tonight. Maybe you should… come upstairs… and sleep in my room."

You looked at him in shock, briefly at a loss for what to say.

"I won't do nothin' to ya!" He said, holding up his hands hastily. "I promised I wouldn't touch ya, and I meant it. I just thought… well… that cellar gets freezin' in the wintertime. It wouldn't be good for ya to sleep down there when it's real cold 'cause there ain't no hearth or nothing to keep you warm. Like you said… we're married now… so sharin' a room shouldn't be no problem. You can put your bedroll down on the floor or you can sleep in the bed with me, whichever suits you. The bed'll be warmer, but it's your choice."

"I think I'll just put the bedroll down, if that's alright," You said.

"Sure, sure, that's no trouble," He said, scratching his neck. "Be quick-like. I'm tired."

"Alright," You replied, and rushed to bundle up your bedroll and take it upstairs to the only bedroom there was.

Inside was small but comfortable. There was a wide bed, a table with a single chair, and a very small, unlit fireplace that Takarad was fussing with. There were two windows on either side of the room, both with curtains that were due for a wash. The light wood made the room seem bright, even at night. It reminded you a lot of your attic room, the only safe place in your father's house. You smiled.

Takarad lit the fireplace and a warm light filled the room. You lay the bedroll out next to the bed, close to the fireplace but not so close that the fabric would catch fire.

"You only got your coat for cover?" He asked.

"Yes," You replied.

"Ain't you cold?"

"The fire will warm me well enough," You said, laying down. "I've made do with worse."

He frowned and grunted, but said nothing.

"Goodnight, Takarad," You said as you closed your eyes.

"Yeah," He said, getting into the bed. It creaked a little as he settled into it. Within a few moments, he was snoring softly. You smiled and slept.

The next morning, you opened the tavern as normal. The news that the two of you had married must have spread through the town overnight, because a couple of patrons congratulated you and Takarad, inviting Takarad to share a pint with them. Takarad didn't respond, merely grumbled under his breath. You knew him well enough by now to know that he was feeling shy and embarrassed, and you thought it was kind of sweet.

You were pleasantly surprised when a couple of women from town, one older and one younger, came in and gave you some wedding gifts, a whole quilt and some knitting supplies, which you weren't expecting at all. They told you to come and have tea with them sometimes when you had a moment to yourself, and you were taken aback. You hadn't even considered the possibility of having female friends before. You felt yourself blush shyly and you thanked them profusely, and they smiled kindly at you. They introduced themselves as Mary and Tyana, and told you that you were welcome in their homes anytime.

After they left, you turned to put the gifts away and found Takarad watching you, a strange, soft expression on his face. When you caught him staring, he straightened and turned back to the stove, busying himself awkwardly. You grinned and took the gifts upstairs, laying the quilt over the bed and putting the knitting supplies on the table.

That night, you went up to the bedroom and found Takarad looking at the quilt on the bed, frowning.

"Shouldn't you use this?" He asked.

"It looks better on the bed," You said.

"It was for you," He insisted.

"It was for us," You replied. "You should have it. It's already nice enough of you to sacrifice your time to marry me and to let me sleep in your room. You should use it."

"My time ain't as grand as all that," He said with a scowl. "Nor is this room. There's no point in puttin' yourself out like this just 'cause I did one or two nice things for ya."

"I'm not putting myself out," You said. "This is already much better than the cellar, after all."

He shifted uncomfortably. "I… shouldn't've made you sleep down there in the first place. It weren't… appropriate-like."

You laughed. "All I asked for was a dry place to sleep. You gave me that. If not for that, I'd have been sleeping on the doorstep. This is fine."

He growled. "Well… if you insist, I won't keep fightin' ya on it. But… if you get too cold, take the quilt. Or jump up in the bed. I won't mind neither."

"Of course," You said with a smile, laying down in the bedroll. "Goodnight."

"Yeah… 'night," He said, getting into bed.

The next morning, before dawn and before the tavern was due to open, there was a knock on the door. Your heart jumped into your throat and you backed up into the bar, holding a tray tightly against your body. Takarad glanced at you and went to the door, opening it.

"Didn't I tell you not to come back here?" You heard him say.

"I want to talk to you," Someone outside replied. You recognized the voice immediately as Bronwyn. "Man-to-man."

"I don't see a man in front of me," Takarad said evenly. "I see a dog who can't keep his hands to himself."

"I can touch my fiancee however I like," Bronwyn retorted.

"She's not your fiancee," Takarad told him. "She's my wife." He fished something out of his vest pocket and handed it to Bronwyn. You couldn't see what it was from this vantage point, but you assumed it was the license.

There was a pause. "You're lying!" Bronwyn shouted. "You commoner bastard! You can't marry a noblewoman! It's against the law! The crown will invalidate your marriage as soon as they catch wind of it!"

"So?" Takarad said, unbothered. "As far as I'm aware, her pa is the one who'll be at fault if she was to marry outside of the nobility, not me. I ain't got no reason to fear the crown's judgment. And I've already taken her chastity. She's mine. You really gonna try and claim another man's woman?"

"You fucking pig!" Bronwyn exclaimed. "You know what? I don't care if that whore laid with another man. I touched her first, she was already used goods before you put your dirty hands on her. Annul the marriage and let her return with me and I'll reward you handsomely. Enough to buy you a hundred shitty taverns."

"Not interested," Takarad said, folding his arms. "I don't care about your money, or her pa's money. There ain't enough coin in the world that'll replace a good woman. That's not something I'd expect some rich, dandy git like you to understand."

"You'll regret this," Bronwyn said. "I'll make sure of it."

"Sure, whatever you want," Takarad said, slamming the door in Bronwyn's face. He turned to look at you, shivering against the bar with a tear on your cheek, and came close.

"You… uh… you want a hug?" He asked.

You smiled and nodded. He knelt again, like he'd done before, and pulled you against his chest.

"Thank you," You mumbled. "For not taking his offer."

"I ain't go no use for that prissy asshole's money," He said simply. "And I don't wanna look for another barmaid, truth to tell."

You laughed and stepped back. "Thank you all the same."

"Sure," He replied. "Hopefully he got the message and will take it back to your pa. You'll be disowned, if you're lucky."

"Let's hope," You said. "I worry about what Bronwyn will do. He's the type to hold a grudge forever."

"I assumed as much," Takarad said. "I'll deal with it."

You heard through bar gossip that the man in the fancy clothes had left town a few days later. Relieved, you put him out of your thoughts. You assumed he'd be back at some point, but you hoped he'd bring the news of your marriage to your father and he would officially write you out of the family book.

Time passed peacefully.

One night, mid-winter, you woke shivering to find that the fire had gone out. You got up to relight it, only to find the firewood stack empty. The idea of going outside to pull more in made you shudder. You looked over and saw Takarad snoozing calmly in the bed, looking extremely warm. His fur was likely very cozy to sleep against. You stood there in the cold room, debating whether or not to just swallow your pride and ask to sleep in the bed.

"Takarad," You called softly, reaching out to touch him. He snorted awake instantly and his hand shot out, grabbing your hand.

"Shit, girl, I coulda decked you," He said. "What's the problem?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. The fire has gone out," You said.

"Oh," He said, rubbing his eye. "Do you need me to relight it?"

"No," You said. "There's no more firewood. I don't want you to have to go to so much trouble. I was wondering… does the offer to sleep in the bed with you still stand? We won't need to use so much firewood, if that's the case."

He searched your face. "You sure?"

You nodded.

"Well… yeah, if you want…" He said, scooting over in the bed and lifting the covers. "Get in."

The bed linens were blessedly warm and you groaned with delight when you got under the covers.

"Dammit, girl, you're freezin'!" Takarad said, inching away from you. "Stay over there!"

You laughed. "Sorry. Thank you for sharing the bed."

"Yeah, s'fine," He said. "Go to sleep."

You snuggled into the bed, sighed, and slept.

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