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be there if I could
Permalink Mark Unread

He can't remember how he got here, or how long he's been here. He is standing on a foggy plain - there is nowhere in Thule this flat - the ground is bare and barren, stretches of rock mingling with stretches of rock-hard packed dirt, all mostly obscured by a pale grey mist that clings to the ground and swirls around his ankles. A much fainter mist veils the horizon, blending land and sky into a seamless white dome.

There's only one landmark visible, a round shape looming in the middle distance. He walks toward it.

Broad round steps encircle the base of a bizarre sculpture. There's a huge blocky ring made up of three concentric rings divided equally into seven parts each, and on each ring the seven parts are coloured in the seven colours of the rainbow, red orange yellow green blue indigo violet. The rings are turning independently at three slightly different speeds. Two thick brackets rise from the steps, angled in toward the center of the circle, to hold the base of the ring; but it seems impossible that they could actually be held up that way, not and keep turning like that.

It looks like the outer edge of the outermost ring is about level with the ground, hidden inside the round not-quite-pyramid of steps; the inner edge of the innermost ring is level with the topmost step, which looks to be about six feet off the ground. The space inside the ring is something like twelve feet wide, edge to edge.

Every part of every ring has a panel with three symbols on it. The middle one on each is unique: the outermost ring is all flowers whose outlines he doesn't recognize, and the middle ring birds likewise, and the inner ring all cut gemstones which are fundamentally unrecognizable in outline because that's not how gemstones work. Then there's a symbol on the left side of the panel, and there seem to be seven of those, and a symbol on the right side, of which there seem to be three: white circle, grey circle, black circle, each drawn and decorated slightly differently.

As he watches, the green section on the middle ring - is that a hummingbird? - clicks into place in exactly the topmost position. The ring stops. The panel glows green. Faint threads of green smoke curl inward from its surface, reaching into the space inside the ring.

The outer ring stops next, on blue. It lights up and adds threads of blue smoke to the mix. Then the inner, on orange, and the smoke weaves together so thick in its twining colours that he can't see through the middle of the ring at all, in green and blue and orange and for some reason white - there are two white circles among the three lit-up panels, maybe that's why -

Curious, he walks up the steps and attempts to give the inner ring a shove. It turns surprisingly easily; the orange panel with its white circle goes dim, its smoke clears from the structure's interior, and then the red panel clicks into place with its grey circle and the space is filled with blue, green, red, and grey.

He keeps turning the ring. Violet panel, grey circle. Indigo panel, white circle. Blue panel, black circle - and now there's no extra smoke, just blue and blue and green.

It occurs to him vaguely that this scenario is completely insane and he's probably dreaming or something. He shrugs and keeps fiddling with the rings. Turning the middle one is harder than the other two; he gives up and leaves it on the hummingbird.

Having two black circles puts black smoke in the middle of the ring, just like with white and grey. Three grey circles produces a lot of grey smoke. He can't check three white or three black without turning the middle ring, but he figures it's probably the same.

Two of the same colour, like blue and blue or red and red - or green and green - adds depth and shade to the relevant colour of smoke inside the ring. Two of the same left-hand symbol does something harder to define but equally interesting to the way the smoke moves. The three green panels all have the same left-hand symbol, which no other colour does; when he turns the rings to green-green-green, the result is kind of magnificent: intricate spirals twisting in toward the center and then circling out again, in every shade of green imaginable. He sticks his hand into it to mess up the pattern. The smoke tangles up around the disturbance and then disentangles itself when he takes his hand away. It's fun, so he does it again, waving his arms through the patterns.

What happens if he jumps right through the middle? Well, he'll probably land badly on the steps on the other side of the ring and break something, but this is a dream so he doesn't care. He runs up the steps and leaps through -

He sees the disturbance he made in the smoke, just as impressive as he thought it would be, an enormous green splash trailing after him through the air. But he never hits the ground. He's falling sideways through thick grey fog, blurring until he can't see anything, until he himself disappears -

 

He opens his eyes.

Permalink Mark Unread

There is a teenage girl, probably a couple of years younger than him, kneeling over him and looking worried. She looks a little odd--something in the shape of her bone structure, maybe, or the exact shade of her skin, but difficult to pin down. Her hair is wispy in a way that doesn't entirely make sense; not that it's thin, but that it's somehow less substantial than its thickness would imply. Maybe she's a mutant.

"Are you alright?" she asks, in a language he's never heard before but nonetheless understands perfectly.

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"I'm - confused?"

And getting more confused by the second, as he realizes he can feel the location and health of every living thing within a couple of miles. It's reminiscent of the way he can feel other people's emotions, but he's only been doing that for a week, so the comparison is not as helpful as it could be. And his empathy doesn't have this kind of scope.

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Her emotions are a low-key but very deeply ingrained stress, a fresher but similarly pervasive fear, and the sharp specific worry about him in particular. "Do you know how you got here?"

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He thinks back to the - dream?? - that he had before he woke up here.

"Uh. I'm gonna go with no."

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"Where did you come from?"

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"Last I checked, I was in Thule..."

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"I've never heard of that. Is it in Arshalei?"

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"Nnnno."

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"Then I'm very sorry you ended up in Arshalei because we're kind of having a civil war right now. The--the fighting hasn't reached here, yet, and we hope it doesn't at all, but...sometimes you can hear the death tolls."

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"The what?"

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"The death tolls. Uh, the--not a sound, but--the thing that happens when people die, maybe you call it something else where you're from."

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Well that's puzzling on so many levels he isn't sure where to start.

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Well it's clearly not a happy subject; talking about it intensifies the middle layer of fear.

"Do you, um, do you have job skills, I, I, my foster parents run an inn but they won't accept a freeloader on my say-so. And if you weren't expecting to be here you probably don't have anywhere to stay."

The lowest level of fear flares up when she mentions her foster parents.

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"Job skills? I'm a prince."

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"...Oh. Um. I, um--I don't know how to--address royalty or, or anything."

She's a little scared of him, now. Not that much, though, compared to how scared she is of everything else.

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Snort. "Don't worry about it. What's so bad about your foster parents?"

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"Nothing."

Which means: obviously something, but probably more if she tells anyone.

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"Fine, don't tell me."

He sits up and looks around.

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They are in a forest on the side of a hill. She sits down and wraps her arm around her knees and does not display on her face how miserable and scared she is.

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Being able to see (at least some of) the trees and birds and bugs and grass that he could only previously feel makes the whole thing much less unsettling.

"What's your name, anyway? I'm Serafin."

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"Anisirieva."

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"Nice to meet you," he says absently. There's more to this new sense than just shape and location and health status; there's... something...

- and suddenly an enormous pair of feathered wings sprouts from his back. If he knew more about birds, and was not busy flailing and squawking with surprise, he would identify them as a golden eagle's. Giant eagle wings, it turns out, flail pretty dramatically.

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"What's going on!?"

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"I don't fucking -"

And now he is a bear. He was previously wearing a pair of boxers, which is what he went to sleep in; they do not survive this transition. He growls and turns into a human again.

"- know. Great."

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"--So I'm guessing your species magic isn't shapeshifting? I don't recognize your species, but I wouldn't unless it were obvious..."

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"What are you talking about?"

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"--Your species? Like, I'm half-wraith" she goes insubstantial "half-halfling," she shrinks to about three feet tall and goes fully substantial again, "what are you?"

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"I'm... a... human??" he says, gazing down at her in utter bewilderment. (And she's so tiny and frightened and - no, come on, focus.) "Like everyone else on the planet?"

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She glances at his lap, blushes, looks away, and reverts-through-insubstantiality back to full size.

"Well, I don't know what planet you're from, but on this planet frost giants and elves are the most common species."

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"Earth. And a week ago I manifested as an empath and now I'm all kinds of shit I don't understand, including apparently a shapeshifter."

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"Empathy is the human magic?"

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"No."

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"Don't look at me like that's obvious." Still scared, but also annoyed. "If it's not then how did you have it? And what is?"

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"It's just not, there just - isn't -"

He makes a frustrated sound and turns into a jaguar and back and finally just clumsily shoves meanings in her direction.

His telepathy, such as it is, is not a precision instrument. What comes across is: he is frustrated at the situation, at his difficulty communicating, at the fact that even though he inexplicably speaks this language that he's never heard before in his life there are still so many bizarre differences in context that he seems to run into them at every turn. He is unsettled by all this unrelenting strangeness; he feels off-balance and insecure and these are some of the worst things in the world to feel. His new senses and powers are amazing and bewildering and he wants to play with them until he figures them out but he reluctantly acknowledges that it's probably more important to figure out what the fuck is going on. He is attracted to her because she's pretty and small and afraid.

And all of that is incidental, carried along with the actual message, crowding around it densely enough to nearly drown it out; the actual message is that multiple species aren't a thing where he's from, species-specific kinds of magic aren't a thing, death tolls aren't a thing, there are humans and there are some humans who are mutants and the mutants have powers and the powers are wildly non-uniform in nature.

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She blinks for a few moments.

"Wow," she says. "...If you stay in the area you'll probably hear several death tolls before the week is out. I, I don't--know how to--make you--less off-balance."

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He scowls and turns into a jaguar again and stretches and turns into a human again and - looks at her - and then puts his face in his hands and sighs heavily.

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"I'm sorry." (She means it. She has no more idea what to do about his situation than he does, is just as off-balance albeit from a less stable starting point.)

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"Thanks," he sighs.

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Nod nod.

"...My foster parents hurt me. No one believes me--I was really clumsy as a kid and they're--good at not leaving more bruises than they can explain away--and they hurt me worse if I try telling so I mostly. Don't. But you don't--have more of a reason to believe them than me--please don't tell I told--and I'd try to, to get them to let you stay with us at least for a while but they'd--it wouldn't end well."

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"Wouldn't end well like how?"

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"Like they'd say no and hit me extra and if they saw you they'd associate you with me and assume you were up to no good or something."

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"...are these people, like, useful to you," he wonders.

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"If I tried leaving they'd find me and drag me back--maybe not now with the war on but--there's a war on, they're better than--being caught by soldiers who don't even have to pretend to care about leaving me in any condition better than 'reusable'--"

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"...how magic is magic? I mean - what kinds of things can all these various species do -"

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"Uh, I showed you what wraiths can do--most wraiths go from a little shorter than me to a little less than twice as tall, I'm smaller because I'm half halfling, halflings are about as short as the smallest I was--halflings are really good at surviving--frost giants are cryokinetic--striders teleport--sirens sing really really well--oracles generate arbitrary, objectively true facts--orcs do plants, especially food--elves do babies--dryads can do weird stuff with trees--"

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"That all sounds... kind of small-scale," he says. "I was kind of small-scale too, yesterday."

He touches the trunk of a tree. His skin turns to bark, rough and grey and pale, starting in his hand and sweeping up his arm and over his shoulders in a slow wave. He shrugs, and the bark cracks and falls away, leaving his own skin underneath. He digs his fingers into the tree like it's made of clay and pulls away a chunk of living wood. The tree bleeds sap from the gaping wound, then heals rapidly until a few seconds later it's not possible to tell there was anything wrong.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on with me now, but it's sure not small-scale," he says, rolling the chunk of wood between his hands. It shapes itself into a ball. He tosses it in the air and catches it.

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"...Gosh. Yes. I've never heard of anyone doing anything like that. I mean, um, I don't know a lot about dryads, maybe they could--and frost giants' ice powers aren't super small-scale, you hear about frost giants sailing on ice boats sometimes--"

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The tree withers, going from healthy and tall to scattered on the ground in cracked and crumpled pieces over the course of a few seconds. Then it sprouts anew from the stump, healthy again. The pieces remain.

(He doesn't notice the faint green light starting to glow under his skin. It's pretty subtle, and he has other things on his mind.)

"Ice boats aren't super small-scale," he acknowledges. "Still."

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Nod. "I should go back to collecting firewood. They'll be mad if I'm back late."

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"They can't get mad if they're eaten by a bear."

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"True. Do you know how to imitate rabidity, normal bears don't invade buildings and eat people."

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"I've never seen a rabid bear before. Are people going to be looking that closely?"

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"They run an inn and there are kind of a lot of refugees from the war. ...Also they're wraiths and can do the insubstantial thing."

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"So maybe they shouldn't be eaten by a bear, maybe they should just drop dead for no reason."

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"People would think it was weird but they wouldn't have a good guess for how it was weird...on the other hand if they drop dead and then you wander into town people would connect the two even if you hadn't done it."

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"I don't have to wander into town looking like a stranger from another planet, it'd be annoying walking around naked anyway." He turns into a small grey cat and rubs his furry cheek against her leg.

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Awwwwww.

"Okay," she says. "Do you want me to pick you up or just follow me?"

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By way of answer, he jumps into her lap. His fur ripples through a few colour schemes before settling on a dark grey tabby pattern. His eyes are bright green-gold, an echo of the green-brown hazel eyes he has as a human.

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Aww.

She picks him up and cuddles him to her chest, leaving the firewood abandoned, and starts walking back home.

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He purrs.

(And heals all her bruises.)

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She stops briefly at the sudden absence of pain but then continues homeward.

When they get near the edge of the treeline, a building about the right size for an inn comes into view. A woman standing outside, considerably taller than Anisirieva but with the same weird-wispy quality, is scolding someone over something.

"That's my foster mother," she murmurs, nodding at the scolding lady.

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He wonders what he can do to the scolding lady from here. Fuck with something important, but not so important that she drops dead instantly, and in a way that's not obviously an unknown magical attack...

Maybe if he had more practice he could set her up for an aneurysm or something. Instead he just finds what he's pretty sure is her liver and makes it stop working. That can kill you, right? And it won't be obvious right away.

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Anisirieva goes around the other side of the building and sneaks in. She waits until her foster-father isn't looking, then darts across what would otherwise be his field of vision into the stairwell, and then points him out to Serafin too.

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Serafin thinks about what could befall the foster father. He's in the kitchen, that's a good place for accidents...

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The foster father goes to put a pot of something on the enormous kitchen fire.

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And suddenly collapses directly into the fire for no reason.

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It's a very hot fire, but it's still several minutes of panic for everyone else in the kitchen before Serafin learns exactly what Anisirieva meant by death toll. It's a deep disturbance in the world, almost like a mighty gonging, but not quite noise, and--twisted, somehow. It is death.

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He kind of likes it.

The terror and screaming are nice too.

He purrs in her arms.

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The emotions he gets off her when the death toll sounds are mostly exultant vindication.

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Purrrrrrrrrrr snuggle snuggle.

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Snuggle!

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Armful of happy soft cuddly cat!

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She happily cuddles the cat. He's dead, he's dead, he's dead and he's never ever going to hurt her again!

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This cat is really tempted to turn human again. But that would lead to awkward questions if anyone saw them back here.

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Explaining why she is gleefully snuggling a cat would also lead to awkward questions, most likely. She sneaks them both the rest of the way upstairs and barricades her door. If asked she will claim she heard the toll and assumed raiders had reached the town; it's either that or come investigate and pretend to be sad he's dead and she can't do that yet.

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Well, now he can totally turn human again.

He grins at her.

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"You did it," she says gleefully. "What'd you do to the other one?"

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"Messed up her liver. If she doesn't get sick and die soon I can do something else."

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"Brilliant."

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She takes about five seconds to weigh her options.

He's very willing to kill people, and the look on his face when she said about the soldiers--but there are soldiers about, she is not safe just because the immediate, familiar threats are dead--and he may have done this for amusement, but if she doesn't give him reason to want to protect her--and he wants her, that's really obvious--and he's incredibly gorgeous--

Yeah, fuck it.

She kisses him.

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He kisses back, aggressively.

He does not quite mean to share his emotions, but he does anyway: lust and possessiveness (and a buried, unacknowledged compassion) and triumph and joy and the unnameable glory of feeling someone burn to death and knowing he did that.

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She moans and folds into it, going pliant in his arms, she wants it, she wants him, wants him to take control and do whatever he wants to her (although she doesn't really have a full understanding of what he might want and there's a lot of it that she wouldn't actually like).

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Well that's incredibly fucking hot.

Serafin has a pretty clear idea of what he wants to do to her. It involves ripping all her clothes off and pinning her to her bed. He manages to mostly avoid doing actual damage to the clothes, and any incidental damage to Anisirieva heals near-instantly.

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She completely fucking melts under him. "Please," she murmurs.

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Even if it somehow wasn't obvious enough from circumstantial evidence, the feelings he involuntarily sends her make it extremely clear just how much he enjoys her reaction.

 

A little while later, he curls up and wraps his arms around her and presses his face to the side of her neck, sending satisfaction and warm contentment over a background hum of mine.

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He can have lots of warm fuzzy affectionate feelings back (and a little subconscious chiming chord of yes, yours).

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Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Yes. Good. Perfect.

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They can pretty much keep snuggling until someone starts pounding on her door. She makes a face and wriggles closer for a minute, but when the voice on the other side explains that it was a kitchen accident and not raiders and now something's wrong with your foster mother too, no surprise, what a terrible shock, she has to get up and put on clothes and unbar the door.

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A perfectly innocent tabby cat sprawls on her pillow.

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She pets the cat a few times before she actually opens the door. The person on the other side doesn't actually see him.

She's gone for a few hours.

When she gets back, she closes the door behind her with slightly more force than necessary, and leans on it in relief.

"Well, she's not quite dead yet, but it won't be long," she says after a long moment.

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He un-cats and stands up and hugs her.

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Huglean. "People're gonna want me to take over, with them gone."

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"Is that what you wanna do?"

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"I dunno. It wouldn't be terrible. I don't have any better prospects, really."

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"No?"

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"What'm I gonna do, start an apprenticeship at sixteen? Marry someone?"

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(mine)

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"Yeah. I'd have more options if it were peacetime, but," she shrugs. "It's not like travel's safe, really."

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"I want you to be safe." Kiss.

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Kiss. "I want that too. But it does limit what other options I have." She shrugs. "You can pretend to be a reckless vagabond or something, a few days from now, if you want to not have to be a cat when there's anyone but me around. I can find you clothes. Or we could do something else if that doesn't suit."

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He laughs. "Reckless vagabond, that's me."

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She giggles and kisses him again.

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Mmmmmmmmmm kiss.

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Snuggle. "I know that 'innkeeper's paramour' is quite a step down from 'prince'."

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"Yeah, if I was going to be princely about it I'd have to take over the world or something." Kiss. "Maybe I will."

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"Might be a step up from civil war."

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"Mm." Kiss. "I bet I'd like single-handedly winning a war."

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"You know," kiss, "somehow that does not surprise me at all."

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He grins.

He scoops her up and carries her to her bed.

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Oooh.

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Does she still want him to do whatever he wants with her? Because he wants some more things.

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She is still very very happy to provide things.

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Good. And then snuggles. Possessive snuggles.

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Contented satisfied snuggles.

It's not long before there's another death toll.

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"Bet that's my fault," he says, cheerfully.

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"You're probably right!"

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Nuzzle. Snuggle.

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Snuggle. Kiss.

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Mmmmmmmmmm.

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Mmmm indeed. Would he like some more things, she is definitely feeling interested in things.

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Yes. Yes he would.

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Mmm, things.

Eventually she has to go deal with funeral arrangements and other stuff like that, which is not fun, but then she can come back and flop headfirst onto her bed, which is much better.

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Serafin spends the few hours of her absence as a cat, tracking her movements with his extra senses. When she comes back, he un-cats and wraps his arms around her and sends possessive affection.

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Snuggle.

"Taking over the world sounds much better than being around people who expect me to mourn those fuckers," she mutters.

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Snuggle. Kiss. "It doesn't even seem like it'd be that hard - well, taking over the country, at least, I don't know about the world - you're already having a civil war and I can kill pretty much whoever the fuck I want without warning from a mile away."

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"Oh, this is the only country on this planet, all the other countries are on other planets."

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"Guess I can take over the world pretty easily then."

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"Yep." Snuggle.

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Kiss.

(He likes the thought of casually taking over the world.)

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Mmm. Well. He has a very willing very pretty girl for any liking-things related urges he may wish to indulge.

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Indulgence seems to be the order of the day.

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It is such a very good thing Anisirieva raided her foster mother's medicine cabinet for contraceptives while she was up.

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Serafin has not at all thought of that. He probably should have, but here we are.

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Well, Anisirieva did, so they're all good. Mm, indulgence.

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So much indulgence.

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"I sort of have to wonder if we're setting some kind of record for sexual acceleration," she giggles eventually. "From virgin to this in zero days."

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He laughs.

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Cozy snuggles. ...Eventually sleepy snuggles.

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Cozy sleepy snuggles.

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More cozy snuggles in the morning until he wakes up.

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He wakes up with his arms full of lovely cozy Anisirieva, and sends warmth and happiness and possessive affection.

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Mmmm. "How soon do you want to start taking over the world?" she asks idly while snuggle.

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"Dunno."

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"Do you have a plan for how to start?"

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"Nope!"

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"Okay. ...It's probably not feasible for me to just snuggle you all the time indefinitely."

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"I guess not."

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Snuggle. "If it's gonna take a while I should probably take over the inn in the meanwhile."

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"Yeah, sure."

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Kiss. Sigh. Getting out of bed to do guardian-death-related work.

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Curling up on her bed as a cat and watching her and playing with magic.

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Running an inn is a lot of work. Especially with this many refugees. Especially when the previous people who had the job died on no notice.

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Huh. Yeah, that sure is a thing.

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Can his lovely magic do something about the exhausted, because otherwise she is not going to have a lot of energy for Things.

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It totally can.

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He is wonderful and she appreciates him very much.

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The feeling is very much mutual.

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It's lovely.

Before the week is out he'll have heard several more death tolls, all much weaker and farther away.

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He doesn't like them as much when they're not his fault, but they're still - something.

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Getting closer. Getting closer is a thing that they are. He can enjoy Anisirieva being frightened.

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Anisirieva being frightened is very enjoyable.

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Good, because the death tolls are definitely getting closer and closer together and she is going to spend kind of a lot of time frightened and clinging to him.

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Clinging to him in fear leads to being snuggled and kissed and then pretty frequently pinned to her bed.

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Inconveniently it is kind of difficult for her to stay very scared while he has her pinned to her bed.

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Well, on the one hand it's nice that he can reassure her; on the other hand...

"I like you when you're scared," he murmurs, holding her in his lap and petting her hair.

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She considers this, and thinks about raiders, and shivers.

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He kisses her.

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Mmmmkiss...no, think about the raiders, keep the fear going. Okay, kiss/fear stability achieved, for the moment.

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He kisses her, pets her hair, enjoys her fear, thinks about how hot it would be to watch her be caught by marauding armies and gang-raped - thinks about how much he wants to murder anyone who hurts her, because she is his and he wants her happy and healthy and safe - sends both those thoughts -

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The fear and the arousal both spike. She wraps her arms around his neck and moans.

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He hugs her possessively, and kisses her again, and pins her to her bed.

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She manages to hang onto some of the fear this time.

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He really appreciates that! He appreciates it so much!

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Good. Being scared while he's holding her is hard and it is proper for hard work to be appreciated.

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And then afterward he curls up and holds her in his arms and sends protective possessive affection. She is his and safe and good and warm and soft and pretty and lovely and his.

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Oh that is so good and nice and she snuggles back and all the fear slips right through her fingers (and yes, yours).

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Mmmmm what a good soft cozy Anisirieva he has.

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Soooo good and soft and cozy.

It is a few days later that a handful of tolls ring in close succession from just beyond the town's outskirts.

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That's outside his range but not by a lot - he opens her window and turns into a dove and flies out -

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There are two groups of raiders just outside the town. Right now they're only killing each other and not any townsfolk, but one group is significantly larger and the other is starting to break and run.

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He circles over them as a vulture, the highest-flying bird he can think of.

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The larger group starts moving towards the town.

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The vulture follows. And waits.

There hasn't been a whole lot to do other than have sex with Anisirieva and practice using his magic at a distance. He's gotten pretty good at it. He can afford to wait until they actually threaten somebody before he starts killing them.

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The raiders encounter a charcoal-burner's hut at the very outskirts of the village. The occupant is long since fled. The raiders decide to engage in some recreational vandalism/looting.

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There are some innocent thistles growing near the hut.

 

Now they are growing very quickly. And shining with a brilliant green light. And reaching out for the raiders.

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The raiders scramble away in alarm! One of them, twelve feet tall and blue, pulls an axe made of ice out of seemingly nowhere (although the air around him dries considerably when he does it) and starts expertly hitting thistles with it.

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When he cuts a branch, it grows back. And the cut-off pieces roll together on the ground and twist into the form of a snake, which attacks him.

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He quickly abandons thistle-hacking in favor of a fighting retreat from the snake.

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It chases him a little ways away from the hut and then slithers back to the bushes that made it.

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One of the raiders, green-skinned and with a protrusive jaw, glares at the thistles. They wilt a bit.

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The glowing green aura around them becomes bigger and brighter and more complex, nearly obscuring the plants themselves. They un-wilt and grow to twice their previous height, waving their branches menacingly.

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...The raiders leave the hut behind, moving towards the town proper.

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He finds some rosebushes near the town, out of sight of the raiders, and weaves a thirty-foot-long rose-snake, glowing faintly green and wearing a brilliant crown of ghostly green vapour. It slithers out to meet them.

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What the actual fuck.

Someone sets the snake on fire.

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...now it's a burning thirty-foot-long rose-snake. This does not inconvenience it in any detectable way. It regrows faster than the fire can harm it.

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Oops. Okay, time to run the fuck away.

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The rose-snake chases them for about a mile and then turns back and curls up and roots itself into the ground as a snake-shaped topiary. Serafin circles in the sky for a few minutes until he figures out how to make the rose-snake fireproof enough to actually put out the fire, and then he does that and leaves it alone. Its unearthly green aura fades. He turns back into a dove and returns to Anisirieva's window.

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The window is definitely open.

"Hey," she says. She is definitely frightened.

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The dove lands on her shoulder and then turns into Serafin standing very close and hugging her.

"Hi. I chased off some raiders," he says cheerfully.

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Hug. Very tight hug. "Oh, good."

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"It was fun! Even though I didn't kill anybody!"

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"I'm glad you had fun." Hugging him is not doing as much to get rid of fear as it usually does.

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Snuggle. "What's wrong?" (mine mine safe mine)

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"They got so close."

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"...I could have just killed them all. Anytime I felt like it."

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"I know but there's been a war a lot longer than you've been here and they're just scary."

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Snuggle.

"You're mine and I'm not letting anyone hurt you."

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"I--" she blinks, realizing that she had been about to say I love you and mean it, and--looks at him.

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He kisses her.

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Kiss. "I--I love you."

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"Marry me."

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"Okay!"

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He hugs her tightly and then kisses her again. (She is his and he is going to keep her.)

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Kisses! "How d'you want to do this? We never did use the vagabond idea, or anything else, you've just been being a cat. I cannot legally marry a cat."

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"I could ride in from the forest on a giant snake made of roses and decide you're pretty and I want to keep you."

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She dissolves into giggles.

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"The giant snake made of roses is how I chased off the raiders!"

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"...Oh, so that one guy who came running in yelling about that wasn't drunk."

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Snicker.

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"Scaring off the raiders'll get you credit but not so much that 'oh hey, random pretty stranger, mine no take-backsies' is going to go over well."

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"Not even if you like being mine?"

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"I would not like being yours nearly so well if you were a stranger! Even one who scared off raiders!"

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Hug. Kiss.

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Snuggle kiss.

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"You're mine and I'm keeping you."

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"Mhm." Kiss. Happy bubbly feelings.

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Cozy cuddly kiss.

"All right, I won't just show up out of nowhere and carry you off - even though that would be really hot - but then what do I do instead," he says.

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She considers this. "You could show up out of nowhere and we could have a brief whirlwind courtship framed in more plausibly consensual terms than carrying-off?"

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"Sure."

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Snuggle. "That works." Beat. "Or I guess we could admit my cat was a person, I think enough people have noticed you for that to have context but didn't do so in a timely enough manner that it would be suspicious that you showed up the same day the fosters died."

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"Sure. We can admit your cat was a person and admit I chased off those raiders with a giant rose-snake."

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Kiss. "I love you."

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Kiss. "Good. You're mine and I'm keeping you."

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Snuggle. Kiss. "Yes."

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Mmmmmmm.

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"We should get you clothing," she says after a while.

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He laughs. "Yeah."

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"Now matter how we play this it'll go better if you're not naked."

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Giggle.

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Kiss. "Easiest thing to do would probably be to get you my foster-father's clothes, it's not like he's using them anymore, but..."

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"Seems like it would be sort of weird. I could probably make something, if I tried..."

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"Ooh."

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He sits on her bed and scoops her into his lap and pets her hair and plays with magic two miles away in the middle of the forest where there's no one to see it.

"Okay," he says after a few minutes, "you can take your cat out into the forest and I can come back wearing clothes."

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She kisses him and waits for there to be a cat so she can do that.

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Cat!

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She picks up the cat and goes into the forest.

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And the cat becomes a naked man and kisses her.

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Mmm naked kisses. Should less clothes happen before more?

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Maybe yes.

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She can also be naked, that is a thing she can do.

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And then maybe he can pick her up and pin her to a tree.

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Ooh. This is not a thing she has been pinned to before!

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The tree's bark turns soft and smooth wherever she touches it. Branches wrap around her hands.

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These are definitely some positive whimpering noises. "Please," she breathes.

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She is good and warm and soft and his and he is happy to give her what she wants.

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Oh good. Is he happy to receive more positive whimpering noises?

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Extremely!

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They will both be very happy then.

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Mmmmm. Yes.

And then he can snuggle her in the tree, casually reshaping it into a soft cozy nest.

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His magic is so great. And good and cozy and snugglesome, at the moment.

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And he makes himself some clothes out of tree bark altered into a soft cozy fabric, and changes his eyes to the green-gold colour they are when he is a cat.

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Awww that's cute.

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Kiss.

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Kiss. Glancing around for wherever he threw her clothes when he was getting them off her.

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The tree picks them up and hands them to her.

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Aww that is so adorable. Kiss. Clothes-getting-into.

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Kiss. Snuggle.

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Cozy snuggles!

"Where's the rose snake?"

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"That way," he says, with a vague wave in the right direction. "I'll bring it here."

He has the snake uproot itself and regain its aura and crown and slither toward them. It takes a few minutes to arrive.

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"Pretty," she breathes.

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He grins.

The snake coils around them and nudges her with its rose-petal nose. Wherever it touches them, its thorns go soft and blunt.

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She grins and pets the snake's nose where it nudges her.

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Serafin hugs her.

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"Well this'll be good evidence that that one guy wasn't drunk. And that one guy'll be good evidence that you really did chase off those raiders."

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He climbs onto the snake's neck just behind its green-crowned head.

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She beams up at him.

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He pulls her up after him and kisses her.

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Mmmkisses. Kisses kisses kisses.

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Kisses!

Riding into town on a giant snake made of roses!

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Spontaneous stagefright!

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Stopping while they're still in the forest and hugging her and petting her hair?

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Yes good.

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Kiss.

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"I suddenly realized I have no idea what to actually say," she mumbles.

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"Yeah, me neither. So figure it out, I guess."

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"Yeah...um..." she thinks about it. "How much of the truth do we want to tell?"

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"Not the part where I murdered your foster parents," he says. "But most of the rest. I've been staying in your room as a cat, I chased off those raiders, I have powerful magic that can do things with living things - oh, the reason why the snake glows green is because I can do that and if I make things glow green whenever I do magic to them then it looks like I can't do magic to things without them glowing green."

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Nod. "So don't tell them that part. ...Why are we dramatically riding into town on the snake?"

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"Because I got tired of pretending to be a cat and felt like dramatically riding into town on a snake to introduce myself."

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"Okay. This is still going to be kind of awkward to explain. Less awkward than if we hadn't already decided to get married, though."

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Kiss.

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Kiss. Being less stagefrightened.

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Riding into town on a giant snake made of roses!

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As they come in view of the town people start noticing them. Most of them are confused. Some of them are alarmed.

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This seems like about the right attitude.

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Someone runs and fetches the mayor. The mayor looks up at the giant snake with the two teenagers sitting on it.

"What on all worlds is this?" he demands.

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"Oh, I saved your town from raiders," Serafin says cheerfully.

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"I suppose that idiot Lienrith wasn't drunk and seeing things," he says sourly. "Who are you? And what are you doing with the new innkeeper?"

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"Prince Serafin of Thule. And I'm going to marry her."

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...He appears to be some form of speechless.

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Serafin laughs.

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"And just where exactly is Thule supposed to be?"

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"It's on another planet."

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"Yes, obviously."

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"And I can't tell you how to get there because I'm pretty sure my trip was one-way."

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"And why is a prince marrying a village innkeeper?" he asks skeptically.

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"Because she's very pretty."

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He mutters something deprecating under his breath about everyone under the age of thirty.

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"I heard that."

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"Good for you," he says, deadpan.

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He laughs. He hugs his innkeeper.

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His innkeeper hugs back.

"I don't suppose you have anything sensible to say about this?" the mayor asks her.

"He showed up and followed me home. Literally. He's been sleeping in my room as a cat since a few days after I took over the inn."

The mayor facepalms.

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He laughs.

"Where's a good spot by the inn for the snake to put down roots?" he asks his Anisirieva.

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"Hmm...remember that patch of woods right by the back where I brought you up the first time?"

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"Yeah."

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"That should do."

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Thataway goes the snake, then.

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People continue to gossip behind them.

"Well that went well," Anisirieva says.

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He hugs her.

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Hug. "I love you."

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"You're mine."

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"Mhm. And there'll be no problems whatsoever getting married, given that we divulged you'd been sleeping in my room for days anyway."

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Giggle.

The snake puts down roots by the edge of the forest and gracefully lowers its head so they can step off. He pets its nose. It stops glowing and reverts to being an ordinary if oddly shaped rosebush.

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She might possibly be clinging to him more than dismounting requires.

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He kisses her.

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Kiss!

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Mmmmmmmkiss.

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"We are publicly engaged and therefore do not actually have to do any sneaking between here and my room," she says brightly.

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"I like the sound of that!"

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There are people between there and her room, and some of them are giving them funny looks, and some of them look like they were gossiping up until they showed up and will start again as soon as they're out of earshot, but they can ignore those.

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He can very cheerfully ignore those! And take his fiancee to her room and pin her to her bed and have his way with her!

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His fiancee is incredibly enthusiastic about this process.

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Good! It's so nice when she is enthusiastic. He appreciates her so much.

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She loves him.

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He -

- wants to keep her. He wants that very much.

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He can absolutely do that.

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Good.

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And then snuggles. "I'm going to have extra work tomorrow catching up from today," she mutters, burrowing into him. "I don't wanna think about it."

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Cuddle.

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Cuddle. "I hope this is less work when the previous proprietors haven't just died, it's not something we're really set up to handle."

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Snuggle.

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Snuggle. "I'm glad they're dead, though. Very glad. Thank you."

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Kiss.

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Kiss. "You are insatiable."

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"You keep being beautiful at me!"

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She giggles. "I think most boys can't do it this many times in a row."

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"Sucks to be them. I have magic powers," he says cheerfully.

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"They are really great magic powers."

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"They are."

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"You have the most beautiful smile."

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"Thanks."

Kiss.

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Kiss. Squirm.

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Ooh, squirming. Maybe he should pin her to her bed again!

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Insatiable, just like she said.

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It seems to be working out for them!

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Does it look like she's complaining?

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Not at all.

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Good, because she is not.

The next day there is a knocking at her door, earlier than she normally gets up. She groans and pulls the pillow over her head.

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Well Serafin isn't going to get up and answer it. He snuggles her.

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She snuggles back, resolutely ignoring the knocking as it gets more insistent.

Eventually it gets loud enough that she yanks on an opaque shift and goes to answer the door. "What do you want it's early I have enough to deal with."

"Well, ah--" says a skinny weedy man standing next to the mayor, who was doing the knocking.

The mayor gestures to a book the skinny weedy man is holding.

"...Seriously?"

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"They're worried you were lying about marrying me so they decided to corner us at screw you in the morning before you could skip town."

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"I wasn't fucking lying," he says indignantly. (He has not bothered to put on clothes.)

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"Then this shouldn't be a problem, should it?" The mayor asks.

"It's a problem that you woke me up this early," Anisirieva snaps.

"Well, perhaps," he says, "but since you're already up..."

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"Get the fuck out," says Serafin. "I will marry her at a sane hour."

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"Can you, like, attach them to something, until we're ready to deal with them?"

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He snorts.

"I will give them a chance to leave of their own accord before I drag them out of here by force," he says.

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It takes her a little more glaring to get them to go away but they do.

"Ugh."

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Snuggle.

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"I love you."

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He hugs her tightly. "You're mine."

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"I fucking hate this town."

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Hug.

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"I was born in a city, where people don't think having sex with someone is grounds to marry them whether they like it or not," she mutters. "If either of my parents had had any closer relatives in saner places I would be okay."

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"What happens if we just say 'fuck them all' and run away into the woods?"

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"Well, since we do want to get married I would rather do that first, it'll be way less convenient in the woods, and it'd be harder to find, like, comfortable beds, but I guess you could fight off any marauding armies we run across."

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"I can make comfortable beds. I can make a house. I can probably make a castle."

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"Okay." Snuggle.

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Snuggle.

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Snuggle. Dozing back off until a sane hour.

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Cozy sleepy cuddles.

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Eventually it is a sane hour--a bit saner than she normally gets up, because seriously, fuck everyone in this village outside this room--and she reluctantly drags herself out of bed and starts putting on actual dayclothes.

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He puts his magic clothes back on. They're very comfortable.

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"Let me pack everything I want to take with us and then we can find the mayor and that sniveling clerk and we can get married and then we can leave."

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"Sounds like a plan."

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Him being able to make most material objects she might want, what she wants to bring consists largely of a handful of books and most of the contents of a medicine chest in a storeroom.

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Great. Where's that fucking clerk.

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Both that fucking clerk and that fucking mayor are at the town hall.

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And now so are Serafin and his soon-to-be-wife!

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The mayor and the clerk have no problem getting this fucking over with. It's pretty simple, they just have to sign their names together in this book while the mayor makes a brief traditional pronouncement over them.

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Serafin signs his name in Thulic.

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This is given some dubious looks but accepted without actual dubious words. Anisirieva signs her name in Kaelque.

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Well they can all go fuck themselves because he and Anisirieva are married now and they can get the fuck out of this stupid fucking town!

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She did not even realize how much she hated the town in general and not just her foster parents until yesterday but she is so ready to get out of here! She has her stuff! They can just go right now! While hugging her ~husband~

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They can get right on the rose-snake and go! Snuggle snuggle slither snuggle.

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Snuggle. "I love you." She's completely relaxed, which he has experienced on her before, but as with now only when he's in actual physical contact with her.

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"You're mine and I'm keeping you."

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"I know, it's the best."

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Smile. Snuggle.

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Smile. Snuggle.

...Eventually they come within his life-sensing range of some soldiers.

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He turns to avoid the soldiers. No use picking fights, right?

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Good logic.

...There's kind of a lot of soldiers, though! In multiple directions! And they're kind of moving in this direction.

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Oh well fuck them then.

"Bunch of soldiers coming this way," he says. "Gonna mess with them."

Trees glow green and start trying to strangle people.

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This alarms the soldiers! It kills a few of them, and the ringing death tolls alarm the others further! Many of them take tree-related action, like the twelve-foot-tall blue people who drag the water out of the trees to make weapons to hack other trees--

Or that guy who is suddenly right here, and then suddenly he and Serafin are several miles away.

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And then suddenly that guy is glowing green and in terrible pain and suffering numerous organ failures. (And the trees that are out of range of Serafin stop glowing and attacking people.)

"If you want to live you will take me back there and then never come within a mile of me again."

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...The guy is kind of in too much pain to teleport right now.

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He can be in less pain. Not none. But less.

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And then Serafin is back there and the guy is elsewhere.

Someone has gotten close to Anisirieva.

Before he can do anything about it she goes insubstantial, and swings her arm, and goes substantial again, and then with the soundless ringing of another death toll her forearm is fused to the guy's throat.

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He has time to reverse the organ failures before the teleporter leaves again.

He heals Anisirieva. He makes the guy she killed fall apart into a pile of dust. He wraps his arms around her and holds her close and every living thing within half a mile of them glows green and bursts messily apart.

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The tolls are the soundless equivalent of a horrible deafening cacaphony but that is probably less important than the sobbing young woman in his arms.

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He holds her and kisses her hair and sends intense protective possessive love.

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"I love you so much," she says, still shaking with tears. "You--thank you, thank you--I was so--that could've--I love you--"

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She is his and he is never letting go of her again and anyone who tries to come near them can fucking die.

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...Some soldiers enter the dead zone.

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Some soldiers glow green and start bleeding from their eyes.

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They run out of the dead zone.

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They'll be fine in a couple of minutes. He cuddles his Anisirieva.

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She continues to cry on him.

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She is so beautiful and precious and perfect and his.

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Eventually the sobbing peters off and she just clings to him in a quiet lump of love and misery.

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Snuggle. Snuggle snuggle snuggle.

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"I love you a lot," she sighs. "...Why are all the trees, uh..." she finally notices their surroundings.

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"...When that guy teleported me away from you I freaked out and killed everything within half a mile of us as soon as I got back."

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"I love you. I--I didn't even think of striders, they're pretty rare--"

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Kiss.

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Kiss. Hey, she's still pretty scared, and that's probably not going to go away for a while! Maybe they should take advantage of this temporary absence of fear-related difficulty.

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Good plan.

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She loves him so much.

Over the course of the...however long they spend fucking in the middle of the zone of destruction...the soldiers poke the zone of destruction with metaphorical sticks, such as releasing animals inside, and forcing this one terrified civilian to walk inside.

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He is distracted when they send in the animals, and also doesn't really care, so the animals are left alone.

The soldiers forcing the terrified civilian to walk inside all start bleeding from their eyes. The civilian is left alone.

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This alarms the soldiers!

The civilian starts running away from the soldiers, which is to say, pretty much right towards him and Anisirieva.

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The remains of several miscellaneous shrubs collect themselves up into the shape of a person, which makes shooing gestures at the terrified civilian.

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The civilian is alarmed by the shrubbery and starts running in a direction that will not bring him into contact with Serafin and Anisirieva.

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The shrubbery leaves the civilian alone after that. Serafin cuddles his Anisirieva.

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She appreciates cuddles so much.

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(mine mine mine)

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"I love you so much," she sighs. "Thank you for saving me--thank you for healing me, I was not looking forward to having vertebrae fused to my arm bones."

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He kisses her.

(It was really hot - the fact that she killed someone, the way that she killed someone, the damage it did to her...)

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"It says something about how well I know you that that doesn't surprise me one bit," she says, snuggling closer.

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He laughs and kisses her again.

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"I love you. ...There is something intensely comforting about someone as scary as you are wanting me safe."

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He grins at her. "Good!"

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"Did you bust the snake with everything else?"

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"Yeah, but I can make it again."

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"Okay. Did it just collapse or blow up, and if the latter where's my bag?"

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"It sort of fell apart? Your bag is - over there." He points. Various vegetable matter clears itself away from the bag, which fell a few feet into a pile of rose fragments but is otherwise unharmed.

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"Okay good." Snuggle.

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Snuggle.

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Eventually: "We should probably...keep moving. Or something."

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"Yeah."

He makes the rose-snake again, growing new roses from what's left of the originals. He does not let go of his Anisirieva. They start moving again.

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This brings them within a mile of some soldiers, who are sort of milling at the edge of the death zone trying to figure out what to do.

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He puts together strange wolflike creatures out of the bones of dead animals and the wood of dead trees, and he has them approach the edge of the death zone and glare menacingly at the soldiers with brilliantly-glowing green eyes.

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They shoot at them with projectile weapons.

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The creatures are unaffected by projectile weapons.

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They use bigger projectiles.

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The bone parts of the creatures are harder to repair when they get hit; soon they are mostly made of wood. But the wood regrows from pretty much arbitrary damage.

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Including fire? They have flaming arrows.

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Oh, fire is the best! Now the creatures are on fire! Was this supposed to make them less menacing?

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Ice ice ice ice ice ice.

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(Sitting atop his rose-snake holding his Anisirieva, he giggles.)

Ice temporarily impedes the creatures. And it can put out the fires if they use it right. But the creatures continue to loom and glare menacingly. They're not even attacking, just glaring and looking really creepy.

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"What's funny?"

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"I'm menacing some soldiers with creepy-looking animals made of dead trees and they keep trying to kill the creepy-looking animals and it keeps not working because they're not alive in the first place."

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She giggles and snuggles him.

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Snuggles!!

Continued menacing of the soldiers! Come on he just wants you to go away this shouldn't be hard.

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The soldiers are pretty brave and not inclined to automatically retreat in the face of an enemy with unknown capabilities!

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Fine, then, what if one of the creatures lunges forward and eats someone alive and holds them captive in its interior very uncomfortably?

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They're going to try to rescue him.

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He's very difficult to rescue, and the creature leads would-be rescuers pretty far from the dead zone before finally taking root and ceasing to glow green and act magical.

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Unfortunately the would-be rescuers were not all of the soldiers.

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These people are really fucking uncooperative and it would be easier to just kill them all.

He has a bunch more soldiers eaten and carried off.

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This will prompt more rescues. If he does this enough times he can get all the soldiers to go away.

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Great. Mission fucking accomplished.

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His Anisirieva has no particular information on how difficult this has been and is just snuggling him contentedly.

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She is good and soft and warm and pretty and his. He snuggles her a lot.

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She is all of these things.

Eventually it gets late and she pulls a folded-paper packet out of her bag and pours the green powder contained therein into her mouth.

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?

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"Hm?"

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"What's that?"

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"Contraceptive."

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"- oh. Good idea."

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"Did that not occur to you?" she asks, amused. "What if I'd been one of those backwater ninnies who thinks marriage equals trying to have kids?"

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Snort. "Then I guess that would've been awkward!"

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"Maybe you should just make me infertile, if you can do that--I don't know a thing about how humans hybridize but halflings and wraiths are both highish-risk like that, it'd be safer to get an elf to help if we ever do want a kid anyway."

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"I'll see if I can figure something out. I can do a lot of stuff with this magic but I don't always know how automatically."

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"Okay. Should I explain elves and hybrids, you said you only have the one species."

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"Yeah."

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"So the thing is that some species have, like, potentially mutually fatal traits, like you want one size of heart for someone the height of a frost giant and one for someone the size of a halfling, so if a frost giant and a halfling have a kid naturally they could have an unsurvivable mismatch of height and heart size. But--remember how I said elves have magic that does babies?"

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"Yeah?"

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"Elves don't reproduce like normal people. They're all women and they have weird hand tentacles that collect underblood and then they lay an egg, and the egg has a baby that's a mix of the underblood of however many people they collected from, and always arranged in a way that produces a safe, healthy baby. So if you're hybridizing in a way you're not sure is safe you find an elf and you pay them and a month later you get an egg."

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"...that's kinda weird."

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"And they all wear gloves on the left hand because that's the one with the tentacles and they're basically extra genitalia."

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Snort.

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She shrugs. "It is kinda weird, but I was born that way. Halflings are the shortest species around; frost giants are a good example for the height-heart mismatch but it can happen with just about any other species, and it would be bad if I could turn only part of myself insubstantial."

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He laughs.

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"By the way, why did it turn you on that time I went small?"

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"...I dunno, it was just hot?"

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"...But, like, you didn't think I looked like a kid or anything, right?"

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"...what? No??"

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"Just checking! Halflings are the only species I know of that get that small as adults!"

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"Pretty sure it'd be the same if you were the size you are now and I was ten feet tall -"

He checks.

Yep, that sure is hot. He scoops her up and kisses her.

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Eee, scooping and kisses. Kisses are a different experience with his lips much larger. It's not a bad difference, just--different.

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Mmmmmmkiss.

"You're so pretty," he murmurs. "Pretty and small and kissable and mine."

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She shivers happily. "I love it when you look at me like that."

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Kiss.

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Kiss. She's adjusting pretty well to the difference in lip size.

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Good! She is so very kissable.

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Kisssss she loves him so much she should probably be attempting to experience fear but it's really hard right now!

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That's okay. He still likes her without it.

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"I love you."

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He doesn't say it, but - he loves her too.

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If he isn't comfortable saying it yet she won't bring it up and puncture his plausible deniability but she really likes having love empathed at her.

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He kisses her and cuddles her and sends intense possessive affection.

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It's amazingly blissful. She's slipping pretty far into "do whatever you want to me" headspace again.

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There are definitely some things he wants to do to her.

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She's got halfling magic. Can't scare her with your ten-foot-tallness and proportionality.

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Good. It's nice when she's scared but it's also nice when she knows she's safe.

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She knows it down to her bones and this feels so good and probably he will appreciate some miscellaneous begging and whimpering.

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Definitely.

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Ohh that face she loves it when he makes that face at her she can do even more begging.

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She is so good and pretty and small and soft and huggable and pettable and kissable and fuckable and his.

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Oh, yes.

And afterwards cuddles.

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Yes. Cuddles. He returns to his normal size and makes them a lovely rose-petal nest to snuggle in.

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"You're so wonderful."

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"Mm." Kiss. Snuggle. Warm cozy affection.

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So cozy! A different woman probably would not be the slightest bit safe in her position, but then she isn't a different woman, so who cares?

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Mmmmmm she is so good.

They're still snaking vaguely across the landscape; is there anyone in range who looks likely to bother them?

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No--

Yes, soldiers that way.

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He menaces them with some creepy wood-creatures.

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They attack the wood-creatures!

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Ugh, chasing them off is so tedious. He has the wood-creatures pick people up and fling them away.

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They gamely accept this as part of combat and keep fighting.

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Ugh. Whatever, as long as they're not getting any closer.

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They are not really getting any closer.

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Good.

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More soldiers, from a different direction! Gosh, you'd almost think this was a war zone or something.

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For fuck's sake. Fine, he can menace them too. Everyone can get menaced today.

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They are so menaced! They're not, like, super intimidated, but they are prevented from moving towards him.

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He'll take it.

He steers away from civilization where possible, toward denser forest and taller hills.

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Well. There is a lot of forest, and some parts of it are pretty dense, and there are a lot of hills, and some of them are pretty tall. Might take him a while to find a sufficiently Aesthetic combination of the two.

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As the day is winding down they come upon a long hill or ridge big enough that it only just fits comfortably inside his range, partially encircling a large pond or small lake. He snakes them up the ridge to the highest point and has his snake put down roots.

"Does this look like a nice place for a castle?" he asks his Anisirieva, cuddling her in his lap and petting her hair.

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"I've only ever seen one castle and that one not since ten years ago but maybe?"

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He laughs. "Good enough for me, then."

Snuggle snuggle pet pet.

Trees of various species uproot themselves and clear a space on the ridge, and then they lean together and merge into a circular wall which grows to fantastic heights. Most of the detail work happens inside the tree-castle after that, but he occasionally opens up a window or adjusts the branches growing from the exterior.

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"Wow."

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"This is not what the other castle I have seen looked like!"

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He giggles and kisses her.

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"It's beautiful."

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"I like how it's turning out!"

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"What's it like on the inside?"

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"Not finished yet."

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"Okay, I can wait." And kiss him! Kissing him is a thing she can do while waiting.

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Mmmmkiss. It slows him down a little on castling but he's not in a huge rush.

An hour or so later, he kisses his Anisirieva and scoops her up and carries her into the castle. (The rose-snake buds a baby rose-snake to follow after them and carry her bag and their clothes.)

It's very pretty in there. A little dark, but gosh, that's some architecture he's got going on. And lovely spiral stairs leading up to a magnificent bedroom at the top. Rather than bother with walking up the stairs, he stands in the middle of the floor and has it grow into a vertical column all the way up the center of the castle to the top.

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Oh gosh that's some architecture he's got going on.

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Awwww. He beams and kisses her.

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Kissing does obstruct her view of the architecture some but this is okay because kiss.

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Mmkiss.

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"Did you study architecture at home?"

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"Nope!"

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"Gosh, not at all? And you can do this?"

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"It's probably harder without the magic powers!"

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"Well, yeah, but architecture's complicated!"

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He laughs.

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"There's, like, stuff about weight-bearing, and...I don't actually know anything about architecture."

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"Yeah. I can kind of - tell, about that stuff, because the whole thing's still alive."

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"Ooh, that makes sense."

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Smile.

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She grins and alternates kissing him and gazing at architecture.

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Kisses! Snuggles! Giant tree castle!

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Eventually they reach the top.

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Huge magnificent bedroom! Huge magnificent windows! Huge magnificent tree canopy! Huge magnificent bed!

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Ooh. Slightly mischievous wriggling?

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Does she want to be pinned to that magnificent bed? Because that can totally happen.

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She would love to be pinned to that magnificent bed.

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Good!

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"I love you."

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Kiss. Bed-pinning. Affection and possessiveness and lust.

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Ohhhhhhh yes.

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Mmmmmmmmmm she's so good. Good and soft and warm and pretty and lovely and his.

They should probably sleep eventually.

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Yeah, and eat, physical needs are a thing.

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Sure, if she wants. Physical needs are much less of a thing when you have magic healing powers as good as his, but he can also make the tree-castle provide delicious fruit.

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Deliciousness is good.

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And coziness. And sleep.

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When he wakes up there are some people on horses at the bottom of the tree.

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He creates some clothes rather than find his old set, and opens a balcony in the side of the tree near the people on horses and steps out.

"What do you want."

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"...To talk," says one of the men.

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"About?"

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"I, ah, assume you're the person behind...all the odd happenings?"

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"Probably."

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"I was sent to, ah, respectfully inquire as to your origins, abilities, and intentions."

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"Sent by who?"

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"Berenti vai Serra, general to Sellen faisa Arshalei, rightful king of Arshalei."

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"I am Prince Serafin of Thule, I think you've seen enough to have a pretty good idea of my abilities, and I want everyone to leave me the fuck alone."

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"...Where's Thule?"

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"Far."

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"...Okay."

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Snort.

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The riders go away.

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Serafin goes back to bed.

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Warm snuggly bed.

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Yes.

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They can go on like this for quite a while! Eventually Anisirieva will run out of contraceptive packets, but she packed a lot; maybe he'll figure out how to sterilize her before then.

...Unless, of course, something happens to interrupt.

That sure is kind of a lot of soldiers coming this way several weeks later.

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Serafin cuddles his wife and glares at the wall in the direction of those soldiers.

The trees glow green and start trying to strangle people.

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These soldiers are more efficient at dismantling strangletrees than the last ones.

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That's annoying. The strangletrees get more aggressive in response.

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Gosh, that sure is a lot of ice splintering the trees apart from the inside.

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They can regrow faster than they're destroyed, but they can't do that and keep strangling people.

He lets the trees explode and this time doesn't revive them. They stop glowing green and behaving magically.

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The soldiers press forward into the area formerly occupied by strangletrees.

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He uproots the rose-snake and has it grow to a few hundred feet in length and start slithering toward the soldiers, glowing green and crowned with brilliant green light.

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The soldiers will remain oblivious to this until it gets close enough and then it gets the ice treatment.

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The ice treatment works much less well on something made up of hundreds of interwoven branches. It eats someone. Thorns are involved.

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Well. That doesn't make them less determined to kill it. Apparently they have cannons.

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Splinters fly everywhere!

Splinters on and near the cannons glow green and abruptly become their very own rose-snakes! This does not end well for the cannons.

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Soldiers with splinters on them mostly attempt to make this not. Soldiers near the cannons vary from "startled; not doing much" to "backing away slowly" to one particularly obstinate case of "attempting to scrape the snakes off". Soldiers who were farther back and have less of an intimate idea of what's going on attempt to kill cannonsnakes.

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Splinters glow green and burrow into people, mostly not violently enough to cause significant injury, but with a stubborn refusal to be dug out again. The cannonsnakes stop glowing; their job is done.

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...People with burrowsplinters decide they're fucked anyway and might as well spend their lives on doing damage to the giant snake.

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Oh for fuck's sake. Fine.

One by one, most aggressive first, people with burrowsplinters die very messily.

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This does not convince the others that their cost/benefit analysis was incorrect!

Anisirieva "hears" the tolls. "What's going on?"

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"Some fucking idiot army trying to come through here," he sighs. "If they get too close to the castle I'll just make them all drop dead. Meantime, they can fight rose-snakes."

There are a lot of splinters. If not from the original rose-snake, then from the cannon-snakes or the murder-snakes or just from traipsing through a partly exploded forest. It's easiest to grow roses from actual rose fragments, though, so he starts there. If these people have to fight giant glowing rose-snakes dripping with the blood of their comrades, and grow snakes of their own as soon as any part of any rose touches them, will they leave him the fuck alone?

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A lot of them are not strategically clever to do anything but fight for their lives. Formations break down; communications between officers and their men break down; communications between units breaks down. Many of the men at the edges turn and flee, but most of those surrounded see no better option than to desperately hack their way through the hostile vegetation. A few really clever ones drop their weapons and attempt to surrender.

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Surrendering works! Fleeing works!

Fighting does not work.

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Is the vegetation sparse enough for people to notice other people surrendering and not dying?

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Mostly.

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Well, most of the soldiers who see their comrades fighting and dying and surrendering and surviving pick the latter option. Maybe, if they're very lucky, almost half the total roster can live.

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Good for them.

When everyone is either fled, surrendered, or dead, he heals the ones who surrendered and sends relatively friendly-looking creatures made of harmless climbing vines to herd them back where they came from. Legions of rose-snakes trail after them, carrying the remains of the ones he killed.

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They go.

There seems to be a lot of fuss over one corpse in particular.

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They can fuss all they want as long as they do it outside his fucking territory. Two miles from the castle, the rose-snakes disentangle themselves from their cargo and slither bloodily back into the forest.

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And that...seems to be that. They go.

"All done?" she asks, when there haven't been any more tolls in a while.

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"Yeah." He snuggles her. "They wouldn't fucking quit until I killed half of them, it was annoying."

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"Oh." Pensive snuggle.

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"Mm?"

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"Death Tolls are--worse--when I don't personally hate the person dying."

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"Sorry."

Snuggle.

"...I like them."

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Snuggle. "Doesn't surprise me."

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Snuggle. Kiss.

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"I love you."

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Snuggle.

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"The first time I kissed you I didn't love you yet, I was doing purely mercenary calculus--you'd killed my foster parents for amusement, as far as I could tell, and I--wanted you to have a reason to keep protecting me--I mean, granted that part of the calculus was how hot you are, but..."

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He pets her hair. "Well, it worked."

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"It did. But the point is that I knew you were the kind of person who'd do something like that at that point, let alone when I fell in love with you, let alone when I married you. I love you. Things like slaughtering armies and enjoying death tolls are not going to shock me."

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He laughs. "Good." Kiss.

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Kiss. "I just hope the army was downwind of us."

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"Oh, I sent the bodies off after the survivors."

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"All of 'em? Okay, good. Rotting blood probably doesn't smell great but at least it's less charnel-house than the whole body."

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"Mmhmm."

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Wriggle.

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Kiss.

Killing a lot of people has left him in kind of a mood.

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This is kind of predictable in retrospect!

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It's nice that he has his Anisirieva for times like this.

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It really is. "Love you," she murmurs against his lips.

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"Mine," he murmurs back.

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"Mmmmm," she agrees.

There are occasional groups of raiders, over the next couple of months, but no more large armies, and the raiders can pretty much all be turned back trivially. They peter off by the end of month three.

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Serafin spends most of those three months fucking his wife. Sometimes he also turns into a giant eagle and goes flying, because he can do that and it's great. He dabbles in living architecture, making adjustments to his tree-castle and building cute little tree-houses by the side of the pond.

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The sex is really fun. Anisirieva spends most of the time Serafin is off doing magic things reading the books she brought with her. She starts contemplating asking about a trip to civilization to acquire more books and contraceptive medicine.

Near the end of month four the horseman Serafin had a civil conversation with comes back.

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"Somebody wants to talk to me," sighs Serafin. He allows the horseman to approach the castle. He even gets dressed before he arrives.

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"Oh, do you have any idea who?" Anisirieva asks. She also puts on clothes; she doesn't necessarily want these people to see her but better safe than sorry.

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"Same one who came and asked me nicely who I am and what I want, that one time."

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"Could be worse."

Horseman makes it to the bottom of the castle and waits to be acknowledged.

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Serafin descends to near ground level and makes a balcony and steps out onto it.

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"...Ah, hello," the horseman says.

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"What is it this time?"

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"...Erm. You're...apparently from really far away, and, ah, it was...determined by people who are not me...that you should be given information about the current political circumstances and how you affected them?"

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"Sure. Go on."

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"...Well, there was a civil war on, and you, um, you killed one of the contenders to the throne, so now there isn't," he says lamely. He is Definitely Intimidated.

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"Oh. Good for me."

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"Um. Yes."

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"Your guy won, I assume?"

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"Yes, he sent us in to talk to you and therefore knew better than to throw an army he was leading into the proverbial sausage grinder."

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"I tried to scare them off but they weren't having any of it. Had to kill half of them before they'd get out."

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"You probably saved more lives in the long run by killing the--other contender to the throne."

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"Huh. Good for me," he says again, thoughtfully.

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"...Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

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Shrug. "Don't think so."

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"...Alright."

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Anisirieva, who followed him part of the way but not quite outside, says quietly, "Maybe ask if there would be any awkwardness about, um, leaving? I only have so much contraceptive powder and can only read the same books so many times."

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"Is anyone going to be annoying about it if I leave my territory once in a while to buy things?"

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"...Uh, people might be scared of you, but nothing officially sanctioned. Do you, um, have money to buy things with?"

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"Not currently, but I feel like that's a solvable problem. Know anybody who needs magic healing or really fancy flowers?"

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"...Not off the top of my head, but I'm sure something could be arranged. Um, would it be--beneficial--to formally define the limits of your territory and station someone at the edge of it who you could--consult about things?"

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"Yes, I think it would. I claim this castle and everything for two miles around it."

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"Okay. That seems reasonable."

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He smiles.

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"Um, we'll, set someone up. It might take a little while, is there anything you need more immediately than that?"

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(He waits for Anisirieva to say something if she's going to.)

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"Is a little while more than a week, I definitely have a week left of the powder but not much more than that."

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"How long's a little while, exactly?"

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"Uh, a few days."

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"Should be fine, then."

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"Alright. Ah, once we've got it set up we'll send the border-watcher in to inform you, is that alright?"

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"Yes."

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He nods. "Thank you. Uh--how do you prefer to be addressed or referred to? You said you were a prince, but, ah, Thule isn't necessarily the most relevant thing, not being here..."

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"I don't stand on ceremony particularly. I am a prince, but I don't mind being called by name."

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The horseman looks like he's about to say something, then just nods instead. "Er. I can't--think of anything else at the moment."

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"You can probably go away, then!"

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He goes away.

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He kisses his wife.

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Kiss. "I love you. Want some context?"

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"Sure, why not."

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"According to some really old traditions that nobody uses anymore you could technically declare yourself a minor baron within the local system which is, like, less prestigious than a prince, but people will take it more seriously because no one's ever heard of Thule."

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"Yeah I do not remotely care enough to do that. I am a prince, I don't care who takes me seriously about it as long as they're taking me seriously about being able to make them drop dead from two miles away anytime I feel like it."

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"Makes sense. I love you." Kiss. "Dunno what they'll call you but your bare name was nnnnot an option he was expecting."

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"Probably a good thing that I offered it, then, or somebody might start to get the impression that I gave a shit about politics!"

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"Weren't you at one point planning to take over the world?"

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"Yeah but that sounds like work."

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"I'm not saying you should do it. The inn was enough work as it was, before we ran off."

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"I'd much rather just live in my beautiful castle with my beautiful wife."

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Delighted kiss.

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Mm.

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The horseman is gone, they can stop wearing clothes.

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They can!

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She loves him so much.

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Yeah.

It is not, actually, all that hard to figure out how to stop needing contraceptive powder. He gets it as soon as he seriously tries.

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A few days later a frost giant woman comes striding into his territory.

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He waits to see what she wants.

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"Hallo!" she calls up when she reaches the castle.

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Serafin makes a balcony and steps out onto it. "Hello."

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"Hello," she says, "I'm your primary interface with the outside world, I've got a hut about ten meters beyond the boundary of your territory, I was told to come in and introduce myself. I'm Belaava," she adds, actually introducing herself.

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"I'm Serafin, as you've probably heard. Nice to meet you."

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"It's nice to meet you too, considering you're my livelihood now."

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He laughs.

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"Is your wife terribly shy, or am I likely to meet her too at some point?"

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"Might, might not."

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She nods with equanimity. "You mentioned healing and fancy flowers as possible revenue sources."

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"First two things I thought of but I'm sure there's lots more."

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"I think a lot of people are going to have misgivings about wandering into the chunk of forest that chewed up and spat out an army to get healed."

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"Yeah, probably. Still, it's an option. And they don't have to come in, my territory is smaller than my range."

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"I think most people are likely to be nervous about wandering into your range even if it's not technically your territory."

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"That's fair."

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"There are probably some very sick people who would be willing to chance it, though," she adds. "As for the other--what can you do with flowers that isn't direly lethal?"

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"Lots of things. I can make plants grow, and move and reshape them; the only reason I've been using that for direly lethal things so much is because armies kept bothering me. I built this castle with the same magic."

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"It's a very pretty castle."

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He grins.

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"I'll talk to some people about those things. I'd ask if you had considered doing architecture for anyone else, but I think it would be best to let people calm down about the armies before suggesting anyone live in something you made."

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Snort. "I can't touch it once I'm out of range."

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"Some people might be nervous about the fact that we have only your word for that, or for what your range is."

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"Sure."

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"Is there anything you're likely to want before the healing or floral work goes through?"

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Well, that depends on what his wife wants...

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"I'm not like super in a hurry on books but books are definitely a thing."

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"We're going to want more books eventually but we're not in an enormous hurry."

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"Alright. If your range extends beyond your territory then you'll certainly know where to find me if you need me."

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"Yep."

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She leaves.

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Back to his favourite pastime, then!

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Ooh. "Insatiable," she teases.

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"You complaining?"

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"Nnnnnoooooo."

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He laughs. He kisses her.

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Kiss! "Love you."

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Kiss. "Mine."

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Kiss. Happy sigh.

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Yes. Those things.