#part 4

Part |V

Warnings: MayCrossTech, sfw, cuddling for warmth, they talk...a bit

Wordcount: 1,017

“You should sleep-while he's…down.” Crosshair said, brushing a stray curl off Tech's forehead.

Mayday sighed, adjusting the gun in his lap, “My adrenaline is still racing, I couldn't even if I wanted to.”

Crosshair grit has teeth. He understood but the situation had gone from bad to worse, they both needed to be aware-for whenever Tech woke up again.

“It’ll be okay Crosshair.” Mayday's voice, usually calming, did nothing to soothe him.

“I thought-” Crosshair licked his lips, “ I thought that Tech would be able to do something, after he’d rested. Fix the ship, even just enough to send a transmission. But now he's-”

Gone.

Am I actually considering it? It's what floats through my mind again and again over the next few days, mostly whenever I'm lying in bed trying to fall asleep.

Gavin seemed disgusted about the idea of it, not that I'm surprised about such a thing. The faith preaches absolute loyalty to its words and rules; it also preaches absolute aversion to anything demonic. 

If Gavin hadn't been indentured into the royal guard as a child by his father, who was captain before him, then he likely would have joined the holy order. 

It's been a point of contention between us, even when we were children. The royal family does not follow the faith, never has, and likely will be guided away from ever doing so. The church is powerful, holding a good amount of sway in the government already, without also having the ruling family under its thumb. 

So we don't practice it, we don't worship their gods, don't pander to their ways, don't allow them to grab at any more power than they already have. My own father greatly pissed off the high priest with his policies that actually restricted the power the church held, and I was angering them by allowing more religions to enter the kingdom's council. 

Gavin had thought it when we were children, insisting that everyone was a member of the faith whether they wished to be or not. Now, he avoids the topic, but still, every now and then, he pushes for me to follow its teachings. 

He was avoiding me again recently, hadn't come to my chambers for our nightly reports and chats, and hadn't stood by my side during meetings as he usually did. Now that I think about it, I hadn't even seen him in the castle for the past few days. 

“Your Majesty?" General Sinte gently pokes my side, drawing me from my thoughts. 

Whilst Gavin handled the royal guard, Sinte was in charge of the kingdom’s military forces. Essentially Gavin handled any internal military affairs for the kingdom while Sinte handled the external ones. 

She and I hadn't known each other until I ascended the throne, but being barely older than I was meant she was a touch more understanding of my moods and habits than the older members of the council. 

“You’re making that face again, sir.” She explains that when I look at her with a raised brow, she's not one for physical interactions aside from fighting. “Thinking about Fig’s ordeal?” 

We were walking to what would be the final meeting on this matter now. I would be held to make a decision based on the many councilors' advice on it. After that, we would deduce how to proceed based on my decision. 

“You’ve been quiet during those meetings.” I say in response, "What's your opinion on the matter?” 

In actuality, there were a few people I was actually holding onto the advice of when it came to this particular situation. Fig for one as he started it, a few of the religious councilors, a few of the merchant and guild ones, and the military ones; Sinte and Gavin. 

Sinte had yet to share her thoughts about the situation. 

She’s quiet as she looks at me, continuing to keep her pace slow as we walk along the hallways. 

“I think it's a good idea,” she says finally, which is not something I expected. Sinte, like Gavin, was a member of the faith of Codos. Though perhaps less fanatic than he, I couldn't really say, as she and I were not so close. Regardless, any member of the Codos church even considering the alliance was… odd. 

“Really?” My shock must show more on my face and in my tone than I intend it to, for she pulls a face of her own in response. 

“I know I follow Codos, but… It makes sense politically and militarily." She shrugs, “The Demon Realm has always been the worst enemy we face. No wins for either side, heavy losses in both men and land, economic problems caused by the wars, droughts, floods, fires, and magic issues.” She lists historical events that had occurred during or quickly post-war between us and the demon realm. “It never really ends well for anyone.” 

“And you see the alliance as a way to end that?” 

"In a peaceful way. Allied powers are less likely to go to war with each other,” she shrugs again, “And aside from them being ‘demons’, which really isn't a reason, no one knows why the demon realm was exiled from the other kingdoms in the first place.” 

This was correct. At some point, history gets muddled, and the world goes from getting along to being separated into many shattered parts. The Demon Realm got pushed the furthest out of all of those parts. I had always thought that in some way it was racially motivated; every other kingdom was human or human-esque in appearance, while the demons weren't. 

“And it's not like we’d be the first to try. Just last year, the Nordic kingdom attempted to ally itself with the demon realm. They didn't get very far into discussions, but they tried.” Sinte points out again, “In fact, I can't recall anyone getting further than the first letter, which ends with either a battle or a resounding no from the demon side.” 

“We got an acceptance letter…” I murmur softly, thinking back on the history of alliances with the demon realm now that she has pointed it out. It was true; no one had gotten that. At least not that was recorded or shared with the other kingdoms. 

Site only nodes as we finally come to the council room doors, where we part ways. I enter from a back door that takes me right to the throne dias at the back of the room, while Sinte walks through the main door to find her seat amongst her peers. 

It's a surprise when I find Gavin waiting for me at the door around the corner. 

“Simon.” He says simply, smiling. 

“Gavin, is something wrong?” Usually, during council meetings, he stands beside me or is seated on the dais with me, as my personal guard. But during discussions such as this one, he typically assigns someone else to me so that he can participate in the discussion as a councilor of internal military affairs. 

“No,” he sighs, hand reaching for my face, “I just missed you.” he smiles, thumb stroking my cheek before the clock tower bell rings and brings both of our gazes apart. 

The meeting was starting, and we were now late. 

“I’ll see you after ok? Tonight?” He asks after a moment, eyes searching mine with a look I hadn't seen in them before. 

“Of course.” I smile back, taking his hand in mine as it slides from my cheek. Holding onto it for as long as I can as he walks away to enter through the main doors with the other last councilors arriving. 

Simon remains frozen where he is while the weird, rock like spider thing also remains crouched between him and this "Grace" person like a protective guard dog.

"I think...we started...on the wrong...foot....with each other."

The blonde, "Grace" panted, his face grimacing in pain as bruises already start to form along his throat.

"Friend Grace should refrain from speaking, Rocky will throw new human out of airlock."

Before Simon could say any protest to that, the blonde was already doing so;

"No no! No one is throwing anyone out the airlock!"

Simon watched as the blonde put his hand on top of the weird sphere as if to hold the rock spider creature back.

Simon felt his muscles tighten.

Things were… going rather well, actually. 

The God of Bones had been a little on edge, bringing in a human man to his realm. Keeping him around his children, giving him access to their food. 

But Thomas had quickly shown himself to be trustworthy and truly interested in nothing else but cooking and learning about cooking. 

The man muttered in his sleep about cooking, hands twitching as if mixing batters and frostings even in his dreams. 

Arlo and Elise were fond of him as well, if only for the treats he provided them at request. 

Scones, cakes, cookies, meriquines, partires, frostsings, icecreams, candies, the God hadn't even known so many sweet things even existed prior to this in all honesty. 

His children were well fed, not just on sweets and treats of course for he was a good father and made sure their diets were balanced, and they were happy.

His realm and its estate was filled with the soft giggles and loud laughter of children who knew naught but joy and love. They napped in his arms, curled up beside him every night for their stories, and spent all day running wild in the house with their toys. 

It brought a smile to God's face every day. 

But again the year was drawing to that day again. The bay where a procession of wailing, drumming, and chanting would come up the mountain and into his temple. 

Where it would disturb his children’s rest and bring fear and apprehension to their eyes as they remembered that they had had a life prior to this, one that was not happy nor safe. 

And the God of Bones hated it. 

Almost as much as he hated that noise and those scared looks on his darling's faces, he dreaded the sacrifices that were to come. All throughout the year, the people behaved. offering toys, food, incense, treasure, all appropriate things he had allowed to be offered. 

But that is what they did every year, until the ritual time came. It was then that they always did something stupid. Like trying to bring him a bride, or his children a bride, or when they brought Thomas. 

Would they try to bring Thomas a bride this year? He would have to ask the young man if he was interested in such a thing… 

Maybe they could be his sous chef? That was a thing bakers had wasn't it? 

He was getting ahead of himself, after his lengthy and specific threats one would hope that they wouldn't be bringing any humans at all this year and would stick to something nice and simple. 

And if they did… well, there were other realms that worshipped him and made offerings. He did not need this one, especially if they insisted on being so difficult. 

And so as the procession began, the drumming and chanting growing louder as the parade climbed the mountain to his temple, the God of Bones felt wary. 

His children clung close to him, even as Thomas tried to calm them with treats and sweets. Their eyes glanced towards the edge of the void, where the veil got thinner every year during this noise. 

“It's happening again…” Elise whimpered, burying her face into her papa’s robes. 

“It sounds different this time,” Arlo mutters, holding onto both his papa’s and his little sister’s hands. 

“It does…” The god agrees quietly as he and Thomas try to soothe the children. 

There was no wailing, no sobbing, or cries of despair and grief that usually followed the parade as worshippers mourned the loss of a human life to come. 

It was just him drumming and chanting this year. 

How odd indeed. Perhaps they had finally listened to him? 

A miracle, truly, if that were the case. 

“My Lord?” Thomas asks after the procession grows silent. 

“Children go to your rooms, Thomas remains in the kitchens.” He says simply, ushering his little ones to their little nest. “I will return shortly.” 

And so he tucks his little dears in, instructs Thomas to remain in his area of the house, “The guards will not like it if you wander whilst I am away.” 

“The guards?” 

“Remain here, Thomas.” 

And then he was gone, in the blink of an eye, he was in the offering room. Hoovering between the barrier of realms, more of a spirit who could be sensed but not seen, watching in great interest as a… 

A chicken was set on the altar. 

A chicken wearing a small ceremonial headdress and decked out in ritual ornaments… 

A… 

“A chicken?” he asks simply, manifesting wholly next to the priests in his confusion. 

The men jump away, some of them screaming in shock, one of them fainting in fear at his presence. 

The bones of his neck snap as he tilts his head to look at the chicken on his altar. It tilts its head back at him, seemingly just as bewildered by its presence here as he was. 

“Uh… yes my Lord.” The head Priest, a younger man this time with light brown hair and large blue eyes, gazes up at him, terrified. “You… you demanded that no humans be brought to you so…” 

“So you brought a… chicken… in bridal wear?” 

“In ceremonial offering clothes… not.. Not bridal wear. We… we aren't offering the chicken as a bride.” The priest explains. 

Thank the other Gods for that. He truly did not wish to explain to his cousin, the God of Fauna, why a chicken had been offered as a bride to him. 

“Why… why a chicken?” he asks instead, head snapping to look at the young head priest. 

“It's the best egg hen in the entire kingdom!” a woman declares from behind them. And the God of Bones twists his entire upper body around, spine and ribs snapping apart as he does so, to look at her.

The older woman does not flinch; instead, her arms cross, and she glares up at him. 

“She lays the best and the most eggs out of any chicken in this entire kingdom, the entire world, I'm sure of!" 

“And you are?” 

“The chicken’s prior owner, my Lord,” the head priest tells him, “We… we asked for animals of talent and prestige, and her chicken won… so we are offering it to you.”

“For… what purpose?”

“Eggs.” The chicken’s owner scoffs, “The best eggs I'm sure even you yourself have ever had.”

“For the baker to use…?” the priest adds on as well, “if you still have him in your service, that is, if not, eggs are also very good for children to eat!” 

They were… they brought him a chicken… an ‘egg hen’ to be exact. 

The best egg hen, apparently. 

“This… suffices quite well, actually.” He says, body righting itself as he looks at the chicken again with renewed interest. “Does the egg hen have a name?” 

“Brunhilda.” The old woman tells him, pride coloring her voice, “Lady Brunhilda, on account of how wonderful an egg hen she is.” 

“Very well, I shall accept this… Lady Brunhilda, the egg hen, as an offering.” The God of Bones nods, and then the light of the room turns green, bright and vibrant like grass after a fresh summer rain. 

And then he is gone, in his home with his children and Thomas staring curiously at the chicken -at Brunhilda-.

Elise gasped with great delight, hugging the chicken above her head and shrieking as she ran about the room, chanting, “Chicken! Chicken!” 

“Her name is Brunilda, Elise. Apparently, she is a very good egg hen.” Her pap tells her, to which Elise turns to look at him, yelling a sharp, 

“NO!” 

“No?” “NO! She is Queen Brunhilda! All hail Brunhilda! Queen of chickens!" Elise shouts and begins to chant, “Queen Brunhilda!" as she runs about the room again. 

Arlo is quick to join her, shouting, “All hail the chicken queen!” as their father and Thomas watch on in confused amusement. 

“So… an egg hen?” Thomas asks him. 

“Yes.” 

“For baking?”

“The eggs are., I don't think the children would approve of eating her majesty.”