“Ha!” Sigi laughed. “Do you do this all the time? How fun! We rarely see any number of monsters around Amistad, and father won't let us go into the dungeons...”

“...Fun?” Tyr raised an eyebrow in observance of the state of her. From head to toe over her armor, Sigi was covered in the blood and guts of the creatures they'd been hunting on their contract. From his perspective, she looked more monster than they did, though Tyr would've been well served to look at himself in the mirror.

From her perspective, he was a walking horror. Hunched over a ghoul, running down monsters and tearing them apart with his bare hands. One eye glowing with blue mana and the other dark. It had been her idea to pick up contracts on their way back, and they'd gotten a little carried away to say the least. He had made himself mighty, incredibly efficient and dogged, able to sense a thing from several hundred yards away with no use of magic. “I wouldn't say it's fun, it just is. Necessary to clear these border regions every so often. Never boring though, I'll give you that.”

“What did you say these things were called again?” Sigi asked curiously, splitting one of their targets down the middle as it struggled to rise.

“I didn't, but...” Tyr replied, flipping his own over and pounding his fists into the thing until it stopped moving. “Pemmican's.”

“Like the preserve?” Sigi raised an eyebrow. “They eat pemmican in Oresund just like we used to in Trafalgar. The soldiers ration. Didn't like it much, if you're going to cure something – cure it. Don't go adding more spices, y'know?”

“Most monsters aren't edible, but these are.” Tyr said. “Their flesh never rots, even if you leave it out in the open. Maybe that's where it got its name?” They were fairly similar to gnolls, just wider. With pot bellies and long spindly arms sprouting from their barrel chests. Two large noses, fanged under-bite, a face only a mother could love, and lots of hair. Tyr wondered at what kind of man had looked at these bizarre things and said 'oi, let's throw that on the barbie.'

“You know a lot about this stuff, huh?” Sigi was impressed, wiping herself clean with a cleansing cloth in the areas where bits had stuck and rinsing her hair with water. It was so easy for her to control the most basic spells that it similarly impressed Tyr. “You are quite experienced then? From what I hear you are quite the sensation among the village girls. The famous White Wolf.” She chuckled, but her voice wasn't mocking. She remained friendly and complementary, a nice change of pace, her 'true' self shining through, easygoing and generally kind beneath the stoic stares. “They call you a hero, Tyr, genuinely believing you a savior. Not that I don't believe them, all told, not exactly shining with the way you fight – though.”

“I've done a lot.” Tyr said with a shrug. “Seen a lot, read a lot. It's not that complicated. Haven't run into a monster yet that won't die if I hit it hard enough. Actually, I accidentally pissed on a leshen seedling once and it climbed up my stream and started to eat me from the inside out. They kind of... Rot you, use your dead flesh as a planter. Couldn't hit that one. Had to blow myself up, as uncomfortable as it sounds, it was... Milking my prostate, if I'm crude – from inside my body – insane, really. Wasn't that bad, considering – I thought about letting it hang out there for a while. The thing got stuck up in my tender bits and really went to town.”

“...Ah.” Sigi choked, awestruck by the casual way in which he'd described a parasitic death elemental growing inside of him. “Seriously?”

And what the hell did 'milking his prostate' mean?

“Yeah, it was an experience. I don't urinate very often anymore, maybe once every few months, but when I do – I never do it on a plant. A lesson learned.”

Sigi laughed loudly at that, Tyr had quirks but many of them were quite amusing. “If this isn't fun to you, why do you do it?”

“Can be fun, I guess, but most of the time it's just a lot of walking. So much walking. I thought that adventuring would be all fun and battles but that just isn't the way it is. It's not bad, though, I'm just saying.” Tyr shrugged, stooping down to cut the noses free from the creatures. Pausing in the process and squinting at them, feeling an idea settling in his head.

“What about you?” He asked Sigi, figuring it was the right thing to do, to make the connection. “What do you like to do for fun? Engineering?”

“Hmm...” Sigi pursed her lips in contemplation. “Engineering is more of a vocation, really. It is also fun at times but I wouldn't call it a hobby per se. Maybe it is, I have passion for it. I'd do it for the sake of doing it – how else would you define a hobby? In any case, I'd say my hobbies are hard to explain. I just like fun things, whether that be cooking, or training, boxing. Fishing can be enjoyable, many times I was with rod when I was a young girl. I like to read, but everyone says that's not a real hobby, though I disagree vehemently with the idea that it isn't. But to say engineering is my hobby almost seems disrespectful to all of the great masters who sold their lives to the study. Would you call runesmithing your hobby?”

“I can see what you mean.” Tyr replied. “I like a lot of things. Fishing, working with my hands in general, building things. Traveling. Eating, of course. Sex, I'm a big fan of that. I like seeing colors.”

“Like art?” Sigi raised an eyebrow. “Alex is a very talented artist, but I'm sure you knew that by now.”

“I did, and no. That's not what I mean.” Tyr replied. “Yes, and no, actually. It's not art, but art can be the stimulus. Everything I see, touch, and feel is so gray. All of the time, it's all washed out. I have seen through the eyes of others and understand that the way I see is not the way you, for example, behold the world. There are certain places, people, moments, that allow me to see the full bloom. To appreciate the warmth of a sunset. Content myself in the feeling of rain dancing on my skin. I think that's what makes killing so easy for me, because there is so much gray. It's not that I want them to die, specifically, not always. If I did, there wouldn't be much of a fight, I've learned. No, I just see that gray and it all looks the same to me, all the way down to my deep parts until all substance vanishes from my consideration. Understand?”

“...”

“I know it's odd.” Tyr said, chuckling and tossing the corpses of the monsters bodily into his dimensional ring. As vile as they appeared, food was food. “I'm not sure how to explain it. Here and now, I can feel the breeze pulling my hair back from my forehead. The water on my skin drying. My lungs filling with fresh air, my gums itching at the thought of what these creatures must taste like if they've been named after a foodstuff. I can hear the life all around me, all of the light and love only the forest is capable of providing. It is rarely like that. Imagine living your whole life with blinders and finding something that could take them off? Let you truly see. I gravitate to these things as much as possible, even if I don't know that I am in the process of doing so. Whether they be songs, places, people. You get it.”

“I don't.” Sigi had an odd look about her. “But it sounds sad. Why don't you feel that way now?”

“Because you are here.” Tyr replied honestly. “I've been meaning to ask, actually. Do you feel worse when I am near you? Like, when we touch, do you feel something has been taken from you?”

“No.” Sigi blushed, clearing her throat and ignoring the first part of what he'd said. “Actually, and the others have noticed this too – by the way... We feel better when you are around. I don't mean to offend, I am not experienced in that kind of dynamic, but... I think it would explain why so many great figures gravitate towards you. It's certainly not for your charming personality, though you've been getting better. Sort of, sometimes.”

“You feel better?” Tyr asked. “Really? That's not the way an empathic connection should work. Even subconsciously, I should be balancing everything between us. Thus, if I feel gray, you should lose some of your color. I guess...? I'm not sure how to describe it.”

“Neither do I.” Sigi slammed her jorunn into a nearby log and began working the cloth around her muck stained boots. They would clean themselves eventually. But keeping her gear well maintained was a predilection of Sigi's, reminding Tyr of Samson – the man always so obsessively clean down to his fingernails. “It's like sitting next to a campfire. I feel warmth and comfort being near it, but I know that should I dive right in that it would cause me injury. I've always felt this way, and in our worst moments it was a source of great frustration to me. Like I loved you deep down and wasn't seeing it properly – but now I know why, and it gives me comfort to know that I'm not simply smitten with you.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“...I'm not sure how I should feel about that.” Tyr frowned at the odd choice of words, pulling a wineskin from his belt. Water just didn't do the trick sometimes, but calling it a wineskin when it was full of rattlesnake venom was probably an odd choice of words, too. Not for the taste, but because he was weak to it and it calmed his nerves.

“It is what it is.” Sigi coughed. “I have no intention of ceasing our physical relations regardless. Is this an adequate amount of faith to sooth any insecurity my words might've caused?”

“They didn't...” Tyr choked on the lukewarm venom he'd been in the process of swallowing. “And that's fine. It astonishes me how bold and honest you can be with thoughts like that, and then bashful in the next moment.”

“What?” She asked. “You and I are married, and for some time now. The whole world expects us to copulate, and we did. Though a part of me finds it embarrassing, another doesn't. It is natures way, and you are my property to do with as I please. A cruel way to state it, but it's true. We belong to each other, but we are not possessions. I have said many unkind things in the past, but I knew what I was getting into, even when it was just to use you. You just have a unique ability of getting me to act that way. I do not know why, but I notice it in Alex. Astrid is stronger than us, but she has a sadistic side to her and I'm sure that helps curb the urge. Why are you staring at that corpse so intently? Do you truly wish to eat it? I'd clean it first--”

“Loot.” Tyr extended his hands and the creature... Ah... There was no better way to say it – it turned itself inside out and began spraying blood and fecal matter all over. Covering Sigi, who had just taken all of that time to get herself clean. “I guess it couldn't be that easy, eh?”

“Yeah, well... Alright. And after I said all of those kind things.” She grimaced in disdain, pulling the cloth out once again and rubbing herself down before doing the same to him.

“Kind things?”

–

“You are so pretty.” Alex smiled. Looking at the face of Jura in the mirror as both she and Astrid preened over her. They'd had very little time to speak privately, and this was as good a time as any. Jura had the most luscious, thick hair, like a horse's mane. So dense that the woman had to thin it routinely with a set of bladed combs or it would bunch up and knot all over. Unless she wore it in braids, that was her nightly ritual. Apparently she liked the feeling of being able to pass her fingers through the strands, so she'd started wearing it in the 'human' style.

That's how she'd phrased it.

Alex had always thought that she'd hate any orc she'd ever met, but this one... There was something about her – hard to put a finger on. Perhaps her half human side that made contact with her palatable, orcs were a frequent problem to the more eastern states of Haran.

“...Really?” Jura asked nervously. She understood well that she was a princess, technically. But that didn't mean that she was ready to feel comfortable in the presence of actual royalty. And yet despite her wild ways, they were so... Nice to her. Kind. Even going so far as to call out her 'uncultured' behavior and talk about how much they liked it. Calling it a good personality trait, a backhanded compliment if she'd ever heard one, but she wasn't sensitive.

Freki was snoozing on the vanity, still small. Jura couldn't figure out how to make him grow to be more useful. As of now, he was a bottomless pit of food and magical material, sleeping most of the day. Sunning himself or crawling into a soft place and spinning around until he'd made a good nest of it. In the corner of Astrid's room, Okami was doing the same. Perhaps all magical beasts were just inherently lazy – Okami claimed Freki had always 'been fully grown' – but hadn't wanted to expend the energy. Whatever that meant, the wolf didn't like to talk much and wouldn't elaborate beyond that – also claiming that questions about their bodies were 'rude'...

“Really.” Astrid chuckled. “You have such good bone structure. And not to mention, a very nice physique. Tyr chose you, after all, or accepted you – he claimed you made the choice on your own. He's just like his father.”

“Don't let him hear you say that...” Jura sighed. “I do not think he has a very good relationship with the primus of Haran.”

“He does not.” Alex commented, tutting over the woman with a motherly air about her. “They have been at each other's throats for nigh on two decades. But what Astrid means is that Jartor is extremely shallow. He would never admit this, but my father says The Lion dislikes ugly things, that it makes him uncomfortable, and that's why he's never decorated the palace. That includes people. If you were to ever see the unmasked kingsguard, you'd understand. Every one of them is a match for Brenn. Not quite a Tythas, nor Tyr – but definitely not the norm. Take Micah for example. He is a handsome man, but next to them he'd appear an ugly duckling. Perspective, I guess.”

“Huh...” Astrid frowned, organizing her memories of all she'd seen in her stretch of time among the court. “You know, you're right, everyone in the palace is pretty. Even the maids... That is so strange. Except for the nobles of course, I guess they come in all stripes. But then Tyr went and killed all of the ugly ones. Most of them, uncle Donakan is rotund but quite charming. I hadn't thought of that before.”

“See?” Alex nodded. “I'm not saying they just run around killing ugly people, maybe that's why all of the villains in the stories look the way they do? Father might simply see more than we might.”

“I don't know about that.” Astrid sighed. “Hastur is very handsome.”

“And some think he's a great hero, even now.” Alex shrugged. “It's about perspective.”

“I don't think Tyr is shallow.” Jura asserted. “Aren't we being shallow by judging them all like that?”

Alex chuckled, turning Jura's head front and center again with skilled hands. “Tyr is a product of his environment and always has been. That is why as long as he behaves, we have to work together to provide a position environment for him. Looks are all that matters in this world, darling, never fool yourself into thinking otherwise. A man can be born rich and live a life of luxury, but only because he was born to do so. An ugly man, no matter how talented, cannot become a saint. If he were to, he'd become handsome in the process. My father says that is the way the world works and I am inclined to agree. A funny thing, perhaps. They call it 'lookism'.”

“Speaking of Tyr...” Astrid hummed to herself, dabbing a brush into a ampule of alchemical tincture designed to cleanse the complexion. Jura already had perfect skin beyond the ken of man, but this was their ritual and it certainly couldn't hurt. “Where has he been? I know he is with Sigi, but what are they doing? I could not believe the headmaster so easily gave them so much time off.”

Alex shrugged, yawning despite the early hour. She hadn't slept much of late, though she did not know why. It was just harder lately to close her eyes and drift off, too much on her mind perhaps. “Humping in a field somewhere, I'd reckon. Knowing Sigi, though, she'd drag him to a mountain and they'd do it there. It seems suitably dark and dramatic.”

Astrid laughed enthusiastically at that, noticing the odd look she was receiving from the two other women. “You can't be serious?”

Neither of the two staring at her replied. It was so painfully obvious to them. Sigi had always been the most ready to accept Tyr in the physical sense and have only recently spoken otherwise, but they hadn't believed her. She loved children and wanted to have a big family of her own, as soon as possible by the sound of things. Jura didn't know her well enough to think as Alex did.

All she knew is that Tyr was ravenous in his appetites. All of them. It never stopped, and she didn't mind in the least bit, he was very orcish in that way. Morning, noon, and night. If not for her need to eat regular they might've never left their chambers. There were many strange quirks with that man, but in this, he was the same as any other seemed to be.

Just 'more'.

“Why am I last!?” Astrid demanded after a while.

“A strong woman wouldn't be asking that question.” Alex commented, earning another scathing look from her sister. “I for one, am a strong independent woman who would easily pass the Bechdel test.”

“The what?”