"Do you need any help, Rose-sweerui?" my love asks me as I start up with my latest bout of exhaustive panting. I'm not doing a particularly good job of hiding my pain, either. With this failing aura of magic around my baggage, my answer is already set. The forest-inspired glow dissipates, and he steps forward to grab it with but an arm.

He slings the light effort over his shoulder, and I can't help it, my eyes grow.

"What even is in here, anyway?" he asks as his grip adjusts to the sound of moving, personal treasures. Yet, I can't get my head off of how easy he makes it look. I could barely lift it higher than my head with magic. And here he is, doing it all with only his body. I shouldn't be surprised at all and still, it makes me giddy.

Shaking the sensation away, my mind lets loose the easy answer, "A couple dozen single-piece outfits, twice that in multi-piece outfits, perfumes, jewellery, cosmetics, personally important items, paintings-"

"Stop." he says quite firmly.

"-point caps, tubes..." I finish saying, my exhaustive list barely even scratched.

"Why and how exactly do you need all of this?" he asks, his bafflement quite clear even with his face hidden. The echo and mask bounce his words now have will take a moment to get used to. But, I can understand him fine.

Though, regardless, his confusion is infectious, "What do you mean? Why wouldn't I need any of these? I am still a petal even if I no longer live in a flower! Appearances and presentation matter!"

An annoyed pout wobbles its way into my lips. I thought he would understand my situation, having been exposed to the life of the aelenvari. Though, I guess, knowing how little about the world my love knows... Such information will not stick clearly to his mind. Something to work on.

"You- We do not even have the means to look after any of this. Besides! We are out in the middle of an empty valley. How in the name of all the gods do you need paintings...?"

"Conversation starters." I shrug out innocently. He expresses his rolling eyes quite thoroughly.

"And the outfit excessiveness?" he asks, the immense bag jostling with a weighty dangle.

"Excessive? There is enough in there to last me until we get to Suhurlodst. Besides, having variety is important for pleasing you, my love. It would get quite boring seeing me in the same set of lacy red after all. Even if roses fit me well." I answer, giggling towards the end as my mind comes to life with all kinds of fantasies. Me and him, his human hands gripping my bottom. A sneaky squeeze bringing out a blush and moan...

Human...?

"Rose-sweerui..." he says again, sending a distracting, pleasurable shiver up my spine. My tail swishes about happily. I love hearing my precious love say my name like that. I love it so much!

My heart jabs at my mind for the covered up thought, quenching my joy to the breaking point.

"As long as you continue to look like an impressive piece of art. You will be fine in my now goggled eyes," he lets out and my cheeks flush a deeper red than my hair. He sees my beauty as being on par with fine art? Perhaps even the kind that ornate the grandest of temples to Love and Pleasure.

I barely have time to think about his seductive words before he gets moving again. And although I can see him, a flash of fear goes across my mind. I cannot afford to lose him again! I know he's just a simple distance away, but...

Staying by his side for as long as I am able to is what will make me happy beyond compare. I owe my precious love so much even before he gives me the payment I am due for our relationship. If he is to give me children to nurse big and strong, for boys to spoil. I need to be there for him!

Despite the pain, I make it to his side and wrap myself around his arm. Quiet settles in and I grow bored with it quickly. I've spent enough time in a world without his voice, his words. Hearing him, oh, how I yearn for it so desperately, but to have a topic worth talking about...

"So... Uh, I understand if you don't want to talk about it, my love, but what caused that scar across your chest? I noticed it back when I was dressing you, but I didn't want to press the topic." I ask, my hand slipping across his bandage-exposed chest. Even through the layers, I can feel the inward curve. Long and downwards, from one shoulder to above the opposite side's hip. A place where his steel-impervious shell has been broken.

"I don't know what caused it, frankly I did not even notice it myself..." he answers with stinging bitterness. Whatever caused it, he- we know it is related to him becoming an osibindah. Perhaps the Valkinvar is why? Strange as it sounds, such a powerful servant of the god, Waionr, seems like an easy way to explain it.

But, I can tell he wants to move away from such a topic.

"Ok... What about the gods? What were they like?" I ask and we wobble to a halt like a freshly shot arrow. I stare back at him, a smile growing as his no doubt loving eyes meet mine.

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"How... How did you know I met them...?" he asks, all but confirming what I felt was already sort of obvious. To come back to life after death, it's such an impossible thing. Never done before. Of all the great people lost throughout time's course, only he has come back. People we know are deserving of their return, yet do not. My love is the one who took the title.

I know, I just know he's destined for greatness and I will bear him a son as a result!

"I didn't know...!" I giggle out, tightening my grip on his body as a mixture of thoughts wash the sense from me. To think a woman of my age and physical maturity is bouncing up and down like a child right now. Still, to think the divine beings I have served so loyally now know my precious love. All that misguided suffering with trying to get Oak'endoor's attention and I end up with the luckiest life in all of history!

I am the single most happy and lucky aelenvari in all of the Last Garden!

"Wait... Ah, shit. Gave it away myself, huh?" he huffs out, and he starts to mind the skies.

"The Orbital-Halo is still up." I say, giving my thoughts on the matter, but he still shakes his head.

"Well, it was something. I'll tell you that much for the moment... Maybe soon, actually, it's getting quite dark." he tells me as a stray cloud blocks the few stray beams of orange. The sky is clear, but the land is cooling down in its freedom away from the home of the divine.

My love leaves my grip and starts to look around our immediate area.

He twists back around, bag arm stretched out, "Of all the things you packed, are any of them shelter related?"

I shake my head, lying with my body alone while a smirk crests my lips, "For now, I want to only worry about spending the night with you, my love. I want to be warmed only by your arms, if only for this night."

Maybe this will make him happy, maybe, just maybe. If I can put us through situations where I show him how much I do truly love him... Maybe he will be able to accept the conditions of his life as they are now. The gods and goddesses have a grand plan for us and I can't have my love be moody throughout it.

My love's cloak does a lot to hide his shrug, but putting my bag down need not apply, "Going to need a fire either way... Do you know how to make one?"

Any sign of a smile goes away and I move my head about to the silent song of confusion. We just need to... I've tended to fires before, haven't I? Yes, I put sacred incense and powders into already lit ones...

Or I get given an already fire-kissed device to light something greater...

I shrug.

"No, I am afraid I do not. But, it can't be too hard, right? Fire is one of the most common parts of any place where magic-capable species live! It's a defining trait of civilisation in general, really." I go, dismissing the idea something so simple could possibly be hard.

"Did you pack anything that we can use to start a fire?" he asks, and I freeze up again. I gulp as my skin turns cold from embarrassment. To be heated so much by it until now and to be met with its hideous other side...

"No, I assumed you'd know how to make one." I answer quietly, looking away.

My love pulls out the artefact, "Guess we will have to eat this then. As, well. I am now getting the feeling any food you packed would need cooking."

"Nope, all ready to eat snacks!" I forcibly chirp.

"No actual meals then?" he asks, his voice blank.

"No, I was assuming you'd hunt us some as we have quite a long time to go until we reach our destination and..." I do my best not to mutter and I put some steps between us. His subtle, twitching anger. I can feel it even now.

"And I don't know how to make a fire so I would not be able to cook it... Pfft, me hunting," he grumbles, his head shaking without end as he takes my stuff to the edge of the valley. Our bed and pillow quickly materialise. Following after him, I carefully slip close and wrap myself in the confines of his cloak. We will ignore that conversation just now. Food and uncomfortable rocks beneath us. Yeah, think about that.

Only that. Nothing more, nothing less. No thoughts of such recent words... I don't even want to let my true-voice glow. He knows it is a way for me to speak.

"So... What is it, my love?" I ask, focusing on the white-bottomed, blue-topped relic. Such divine power fills the material of what sounds so mundane.

"It is a blackberry tart, Motrtha made it for me," he goes, his body shaking with a slight bounce. His chittering is so clear even with the mask on and it only becomes clearer as he takes it off. The first time I have ever heard an osibindah make excited noises, let alone considered. The mask and the hat fall behind him and roll away into a catching hand.

A goddess's cooking... My love has enjoyed the holy splendour of a goddess's skill in a kitchen!? I... I have my work set out for me when it comes to pleasing my love, I guess.

The lid to the dish, of which no one back in the flower was able to budge, slides off. Steam slips out and the heat of a freshly baked pastry catches on my cheeks as the smell bloats my nostrils. Whatever lives in my mouth is drowning. I...

I cannot beat this.

As a human-eyed being, Nin only sees the desert. But, as an aelenvari, with eyes so vastly different, I... I cannot compete. The magic within this sweetly baked delight is impossible. It should hurt to be this close to such food!

There's so much magic, so much in this 'blackberry tart,' this so beyond simple pudding. These lands might not be the grandest city or the source of our magic, but it's by no means light. This dish is so rich it's disrupting the air of the land. Nature itself is bowing in submission.

"Is this even safe to eat...?" I ask, looking away in worry as something this pure should be blinding. I can look safely but my body is begging me to run, to hide and fear its awesome might.

"Oh-ho-ho-ho! Very much so!" he answers with a quick, eager laugh. I watch with growing fear as his jaws part to bite into hot pastry... Closer, so close... He bites into it and moans. His mouth opens, and a word comes out so incoherently.

"My lo-"

"THANK YOU, MOTRTHA!" he shouts with every bit of happiness sweetening his life. His jaws clamp down again and he ravenously wolfs down yet another bit. He licks his fingers clean, and he passes me a slice. It rests in my palms for a short, uncomfortable moment. I take the slightest of nibbles as mental prayers beg for my survival.

I move the slice of tart away and stare at it...

It's good, very tasty. Perfect even. Rich in flavour, and I already feel stronger for it. The very definition of good food.

My eyes feel wet, my lip trembles, and I sob uncontrollably.

"Wh-What's wrong!?" my love asks, his concern unnecessary. It only makes my tears worse and I start to pay him no mind. Like an animal, not one slight thought of manners or etiquette in my head. I eat.

"Ish cansh jush nevah make anything ash good ash this!" I almost scream in emotional pain as I come to lament such a perfect piece of food. If this is the kind of meal he has grown accustomed to under the loving gaze of the Goddess of Mothers... Then what hope do I have with winning his heart with my own food!?

I will never be able to match this, never!