"I - try how?"

"... A walk, or something? A picnic, maybe?" Pause. "Wait, no, that would make us like Ice and Cypress, nevermind on the picnic, that option is dead to us."

"Permanent moratorium on picnics, huh?"

"Well," he says, almost whimsically, "we can have things resurrected now, if you particularly want to go on a picnic."

"No strong attachment to the idea of a picnic in particular."

"Then the option can remain dead to us."

"We could go for a walk, then, if you like, or - I don't know what else. What do they do in their spare time - it probably looks more like royal paperwork than like strolling around, doesn't it, only they somehow manage to do it - couply."

"... I am genuinely trying to figure out how to be couply about paperwork. Do I - kiss a form, fold it up into a flower, and then sneak it to you? How do you make paperwork couply?"

"I don't know! I'm trying to imagine Ice and Cypress doing paperwork and I suppose the soul birds snuggle while they do it and periodically they gaze adoringly at each other?"

"Maybe," he snorts. "The soul birds are cheating, that's not fair."

"And the others all have wings. Clearly in order to accomplish proper couplishness wings have to be involved somewhere."

"Aha, that must be it. Now the question is, how do we involve wings? Little embroideries on our clothes, maybe?"

"I'm not sure if costume versions work. We'll have to hex them on or something."

"It's the only way," he agrees gravely. "Shall we get started on it right now?"

"Perhaps if we're quick we can rescue Spring and Prime from their wingless lack of romance too, before they get accustomed to just being friends."

"Yes. Quickly, we have to drop everything, we'll let Zevros run the country, this is important."

"But Zevros isn't here! We can't retreat into seclusion to work on wing hexes with no one to install as an interim ruler."

"Hmmm. Let's make my father do it, then. Bury him under paperwork and say we're being cruel and unusual with torture."

"Now there is a plan without flaw, drawback, or room for improvement."

"Yes, I'm absolutely certain that his foresight and moral center will let him run the country well while we're busy working on how to make wings."

"And if he finds it overwhelming to work on by himself, why, we'll just have Ice resurrect your mother."

"Flawless plan. She's got more experience than the both of us with ruling a country, why, we should do that anyway and ask her for pointers."

"What do we need pointers for? We're going to be busy charting for the wing thing. And then when we're done with that we'll probably be overwhelmed with the desire to - preen each other or something and have no chance to put any of her advice into practice."

"Fair point. Alas, we'll remain unenlightened. Not to worry, she can teach Zevros when he returns. He can be heir, we'll run off into the woods and build a nest. Or something."

"A nest, lined with down, nice and snug."

"I'll start collecting string."

"What's the string for?"

"The nest, of course. You can't have a sturdy nest without string. And twigs. And - I have no idea how to build a nest."

"I think birds manage without string. Your string-related nestbuilding ways are a dealbreaker, Edarial, we cannot bird together, the difference is irreconcilable."

"Nooooo. Who will I be a bird with now? How will I ever find romance? I'm doomed to become... To become Prime!"

"Wingless, loveless Prime!" laments Iobel. "Surely ruing the day he came into the world by some non-hatching mechanism, behind the wall of impenetrable sarcasm."

"Poor soul. Poor, pathetic soul. Take me back, Iobel! I'll renounce my string gathering ways!"

"I can't ask you to change for me!" she says dramatically, flinging the back of her hand to her forehead. "To betray who you are, only so that you can share my nest? Unthinkable!"

Edarial covers his eyes with a hand, and lets out a fake-sounding sob. "But - but don't you believe in love?!"

"I can't! I don't have wings yet! They're essential to the process!"

"We'll try the embroidery! The hex will take too long, I can't stand it! Come away with me, to the tailor!"

"It will never work! I simply don't have your optimism."

"Alas. Our relationship is doomed before it even began. Tell me, who do you plan to build a nest with now? I must know, what is his name?!"

"Are... are you going to duel him? For besmirching the honor of your queen?"

"Yes. There is no other possible option. There is no chance of sane and rational conversation in this situation. Only bloodshed."

"Then I must take his identity even to the very grave. The very temporary grave. I cannot allow this violence for my sake."

"But I am defending your honor!"

"My honor is beyond repair! You seek only revenge! It can yield no good."

"Your honor," says Edarial fiercely, "is not beyond repair! The only time it is beyond repair is when you've given up. Have you given up, Iobel?"

"On nestbuilding? On the magic of flight? On you? There are so many quests presented to me that I hardly know where prioritization of some of them begins and giving up on others ends!"

"Any! All! They're all interconnected, Iobel, the only answer is for you to make a chart of your priorities!"

"Charts! Charts! Everywhere charts! Where is the romance and the feathers?"

"Would you like me to skip to the romance and the feathers? I am trying to be orderly about this, would you have me careen off to an uncharted situation blind?"

"Blinded by unreasoning affection? I should think that would help considerably. Who can chart the desires of the feathery soul or label the parts of the nest-building impulse within each of us, Edarial? Do birds require compasses to find south? Do they make graphs before doing that weird kissing-like thing with their beaks?"

Iobel giggles and gets up and takes his hand.

"I hardly think that would sate any reasonable appetite," Iobel says primly.

Iobel's eyes flutter shut.

It is more than a little awkward - but not unpleasant. Not a bit that.

"Of course not. We aren't birds, so we have to guess."

He snickers a bit. "This is what happens, when we try uncharted affection. I have a brief moment of panic over if you want to kiss me or not and then five seconds later I have no idea what to do with my hands."

"I didn't think I was that - illegible."

"No, I was - just being paranoid."

"I - well, it's - that's an entirely normal form of paranoia, I think, it's not like I've kissed anyone before..."

"I suppose it's different, yeah," she murmurs, and then she lifts one hand up to his cheek to tilt his face down and kiss him again.

And the awkwardness decreases with practice.

Hurray! Decreased awkwardness! More kissing! Both of those things are good!

Iobel agrees completely!

"And we didn't even need feathers. We're winning on the highest difficulty setting!"