Dear Diary,

Yesterday's class really shook me, but it didn't hit me until now. Seriously, what the hell, it's like my teaching methods aren't complete ass and are maybe working or something. Or maybe my two problem children have decided to team up and confuse me until I give in and let them beat the shit out of one another again.

Gotta check with Poppa Lancaster when I talk with him, see what he thinks. Wait, no. I can't call him 'Poppa' Lancaster any more, because Larry and Bonnie have Lucas now. 'Big Daddy' has the same problem. 'General' has too much respect, and I'm honestly not sure if it's true any more. Like, he's still got all the Skills, obviously, but he hasn't got the official title. At least I don't think he does. Unless it's a Title, and once he's got it he can't un-get it. Or maybe it can be un-gotten. I'm pretty sure I remember Conrad saying something about making me his Champion, then undoing that. Might have been during that whole amnesia incident, specifically while I had my Soul stretched out by the Machine That Shall Not Be Named. So he's not a General, he's a Grand Councilor. But that's even worse than 'General' for showing more respect than I really want to.

It's weird. I'm at the point where this dude is no longer my superior in any sense of the word. I don't report to him, I don't report to his God, I kind of report to his boss, if you consider Saffron the boss of the Alliance. Which means I'm kind of married to his boss. Who, if you look at in a way that I'm sort of perpetually avoiding, literally Worships me as her Goddess. I'm also technically the Patron Goddess of the Alliance. Twice.

Shit. What the fuck is a lifelong rebel against authority supposed to do when all of a sudden I'm the fucking authority? I mean, I don't want to do anything to make him feel it's okay for him to go doing, y'know, oppressive exploitative shit like he had going on at Lancaster House before my arrival. But at the same time this could be another aspect of Shit Pyramid. Fuck, it totally is. If I keep dunking on Leonard Lancaster now that I'm the big dog and he's categorically not, I'm just squatting and letting shit roll downhill. Which, I mean, shit doesn't run uphill. I understand that. The folks at the bottom are always gonna wind up catching a larger ration of shit than those at the top. I think my whole point about breaking Shit Pyramid isn't some kind of fucked up intent to reverse metaphoric gravity and make shit flow uphill, but to smash that fucker flat and use the bricks to make sure that everybody, even the folks at the very bottom, have a fuckin' place to stand where at least their heads are above the shit. If we've got enough bricks to do so, maybe enough that they're wholly out of the shit.

I don't know if we have enough metaphoric bricks to do that. I mean, I'm pretty sure Saffron does. I'm also pretty sure Saffron has prioritized metaphoric brick production, with the intent of increasing our ability to get people out of the shit. Even though I put her in charge, I'm still the one who put her in charge, and a lot of her authority devolves back to me being the Patron Goddess, Champion, Attack Dog, single most potent military force, and general shitkicker of the Alliance. Which means that I'm fucking responsible for whatever happens.

Mother. Fucker.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I am one. Apparently I'm gonna be one even more once we get Marie properly wifed, and I do not need the distracting thoughts of that right now. Right now I need to think about what I'm gonna do before i do it, because my habitual method of doing things isn't gonna fuckin' work. Or worse, it'll work just fine, but it'll lead to me copping a squat and dumping fertilizer all over the folks I'm tryna pull out of the shit. So first of all, when I talk with Leonard Lancaster this week, I gotta go out of my way to not be a completely disrespectful bitch. I mean, if he makes bigoted comments I'm gonna call him on it, but I gotta treat him at least as well as I'd treat, uh, Weyson? No, not Weyson, that guy's a bigger dick than Lenny, and isn't even as useful.

Fuck. I've got to treat Weyson with basic respect, because he's part of the fuckin' Alliance now too. God fucking dammit, isn't there one person I can metaphorically or literally punch in the dick without any kind of guilt over it?

Even blood brother Odin seems to be behaving himself. If there is a single source behind these Dire Bears, perhaps them?

Thanks, Dad. You really are the best.

I know.

Y'know, I'm gonna call him Lenny. No, it's not proper kowtow respectful, but it's also not, like, super rude. I'll even be polite about it and shit. Also, I need to meet with Saffron this week, because I need to touch base with her and make sure she and I are on the same page about what direction the Alliance ought to be taking. I mean, I know she's got all kinds of military plans, and those involve making sure the Alliance's economy is stable and prospering, but I've got too much experience from back in the day about 'booming economies' still fucking over the guys at the bottom. I guess I gotta focus on that whole idea that the real measure of a society isn't how high the top reaches, but how the lowest members of it are doing.

So yesterday's Physical Training went by in a kid of a blur, mostly because one night of mild Worship and sleep wasn't really enough to recover from a week of no sleep followed by a fight against the Direst of Bears. After like two weeks, Citron and Hildegarde had actually made progress. Not enough, but clear progress. Either of them could lead without being a dick about it, and either of them could follow cleanly. Even with each other, which is what really surprised me. The only real problem they had at this point was switching between leading and following.

Kinda funny, but the two of them really did have things on hard mode with that, and I'd never really realized it, mostly because Saffron and I had always handed the lead back and forth so easily.

So at the end of the day I pulled them aside, waving the rest of the students, including a surprisingly concerned Vickerson, off to dinner. Standing there in the twilight, I swallowed my smile at the surprising similarity of their wireframe silhouettes to Abbot and Costello. Aunties, VHS, yada, yada.

Then the lights kicked on and I said, "you two been practicing outside of normal class time?" They both looked vaguely guilty and annoyed. "Look, I'm not gonna be pissed if you are. You both needed the practice so if anything you're gonna get kudos for it, not kicks in the ass."

I noticed their eyes flicker toward each other, but didn't comment. They both started to say something, then both shut up when they realized the other was talking. Citron recovered first, saying, "go ahead, Hildegarde."

Of course she shook her head once, sharply, and muttered, "you're better with words, Carroll." When he didn't say anything, she frowned at him. "So talk."

"If you're sure?" She nodded, and he turned back to me. "Apologies, Ma'am. Yes, Cadet Hildegarde and I have been practicing our coordination outside of class time."

I nodded. "It shows. You're not quite where you need to be yet. But you're close." Then my brain kicked in and reminded me of my own first Season schedule and exactly how brutal it was. "Wait. When exactly have you guys been practicing? Because if you're shorting yourselves on sleep that can't be good for your grades in your other classes." They both kind of blushed at that. "Seriously, don't get all your other professors pissed at me because I'm screwing you two up in their classes."

"Not that," blurted Hildegarde.

I waited, but she didn't elaborate. Finally Citron sighed and said, "We did shift our schedules slightly to have the same Devotional day."

I blinked at that. "Excuse me? One of you changed religions just for this?"

Citron barked out a laugh. "No, Ma'am. Nothing quite so extreme. Even if someone did suggest... Never mind. Cadet Hildegarde's Patron is, apparently, flexible regarding her Devotional day."

My brain was lagging today. Had to be the fatigue. "Okay, wait, are you telling me the two of you have been locking yourselves in a cell together for weeks?"

"One week." Hildegarde didn't sound incredibly happy about it, either.

"Okay, sure. That's... and neither of you are dead?"

Hildegarde snorted. Cadet Citron got that rectal kumquat look, then hissed out, "one time! I passed out one time!"

Hildegarde rolled her eyes. "Sure. Whatever."

"Are you implying I cannot count?"

She just shrugged. At that point I felt like I had to step in lest my burgeoning power couple lose all their progress. Then my brain realized what I'd just referred to them as. "Cadets, I'm not gonna ask about exactly what you've been doing to practice. I will, however, ask... do your Patrons have any problem with what you've been doing?"

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Citron turned the kumquat look on me and managed to force out, "The Dagda has no issue with anything I've done."

I nodded to him, then turned to Hildegarde. when she didn't say anything, I asked, "well?"

"Well what?"

I didn't roll my eyes, but it was a close thing. "Does your Patron have a problem with anything you've been doing?"

She looked me straight in the eye and said, "I dunno. Do you?"

Took me a minute. Took me a fuckin' minute. When I realized what she was saying, I opened my mouth, thought better of it, and turned to Citron. "Did you Consent to whatever happened?" When he hemmed and hawed, I was flustered enough to just quietly say, "did she or did she not rape you?"

"NO!"

Before I could say anything else, Hildegarde muttered out, "really? Damn."

"NOT funny, Cadet. I don't find that kind of joke funny at all."

"Sorry, Ma'am. Won't happen again, Ma'am." The weirdest thing? She was, and I could tell she meant it. I mean, she's a fuckup just like me, so I'm sure she might slip the fuck up at least as often as I did, but intentions still count for something, and her intention was to avoid that kind of shit in the future.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, just to give me an excuse to close my eyes and think for a second. "Okay, you two. For what it's worth, I'm not sure whatever you've been doing is entirely healthy, but on the other hand it seems to be working. Tomorrow morning I'll work with you two and we'll see if we can't get the two of you squared away to the point I can in good conscience let you start working on actual Combat Training."

They both nodded, and Cadet Citron muttered, "I do hope we've not fallen behind."

I snorted. "You two were both well ahead of the class, Citron. They haven't caught up to you yet in anything except coordination. They definitely haven't 'left you behind'."

"How do we catch up with them in that?" Hildegarde asked, for once sounding marginally polite.

I shrugged again. "I'll work with the two of you on Saturdays, and whenever I can spare the time, but you might want to get your class' specialist in that involved." When the two of them both cocked their heads like the RCA dog I managed to keep my laugh down and explained, "Cadet Vickerson. She knew how to coordinate a squad down in Calverton, and she's only gotten better at it since then." I realized then that we'd been out longer than I intended, so I nodded to them and said, "Dismissed. Go get some dinner."

No idea if they did or not. Not my lookout, either. Not really. Fuck, I'm Hildegarde's Patron. It actually was my lookout. Not like I had any idea what to do, but I'd have to figure something out. I mentally noted that I needed to meet with Siobhan this week too, I think, at least.

Then I got a sudden rush of brains to the fuckin' head. Siobhan?

Yes, Mistress?

I need to talk with you about some Cadet shit this week at some point. Can you grab me at some point when you have a few minutes?

I can and will, Champion.

Any reason you're being so formal, Darling?

None at all, Tabitha. Will you be along to dinner soon?

Be there shortly.

I felt her attention drift, and thought, Saffron?

Yes, love?

At some point this week you and I need to have a chat. I felt her tense, and quickly thought, nothing bad, I just... I feel like I don't know enough about what's going on with the Alliance.

So I'm to be called to account for all of those things I've done which displease you?

No! No, nothing like that, I... right about then I caught the edges of her mental chuckle. Okay, I'm gonna spank you just a little for teasing me like that, but other than that, I just... I feel like I'm responsible for... for... for everything.

Have I failed you? This time she actually sounded concerned, just a little.

No! No, not at all. I don't want your job, and you love your job, and you're doing a great job, as far as I know, but... I'm the one who put you there. It's my name in the 'Patron Goddess' slot. Twice, kinda. So I figure I ought to at least sit down every now and then and let you pummel my brain with what's going on. Also, maybe make sure that you and I are on the same page in terms of, I dunno, priorities? Like, I'm pretty sure nothing on your list is a no go for mine and vice versa, but if somebody is getting left behind, I want to know why, and maybe see if there's not something I could do to help not leave them behind.

Then she was there, in my arms, her weight grounding me, her warmth... healing me. "Of course, love. I... I've not brought things up because I thought you'd be disinterested."

"You mean you thought I'd fall asleep when you talked about shit." I lifted her and snuggled her to me.

She laughed. "No, not really. But I did think you'd be bored."

I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I might be, but I'm tryna be a better person. In this case, that means taking enough responsibility to at least sit and listen while you tell me what's going on, and I dunno, have some idea what I'm signing off on."

"You haven't signed anything, love. I'm not sure anyone would believe your signature is yours."

I frowned at her. "Why not?"

She chuckled. "It's so neat and tidy. Like your writing, really. Honestly, it's the only thing about you that is."

"That sounds like a complaint."

She pouted up at me. "I've only one complaint right at the moment."

"Oh?"

"I'll tell you after dinner."

So I stepped us back to the dining room at the Homestead. Dinner was, big surprise, bear steaks. Nice roasted veggies on the side, and some kind of fried not-potatoes on the side as well. Pumpkin, maybe? I'm not sure, but getting Marie's cooking after a week in the field had me utterly convinced of her divinity. Y'know, in case I needed convincing.

As I carried my Kitten up to the Bath, I murmured, "so what's the complaint?"

She Co-Located the two of us to the Bedroom. "My ass remains entirely unspanked."

"Not sure if I'm really in the right headspace for Penance right now."

She giggled. "Who said anything about that?"

My Kitten, she kinky sometimes. Fuck it, pot, kettle, and we had an iron and, I dunno, some other equally black cast iron implement with us as well if Siobhan's fear fetish counted.

Dreams got a little disturbing when soup dumpling Saffron taunted me until I spanked her, because unlike Actual Saffron, instead of pinking and squealing and getting horny as fuck, she kinda splattered. Okay, she also squealed and eventually got horny enough I woke up in the Bedroom well before dawn, unable to speak due to Kitten kitty obstructing my pie hole.

Sorry, Kitten. got to go to work now.

"Not... quite..." I'm really glad that my insanely high Endurance apparently translates to a seriously thick skull, because if I had a merely mortal one I'd have gone the way of Ericson at that point. She slumped over me, giggled, and said, "okay, you can go."

I may have been a little less than perfectly patient with Citron and Hildegarde through the morning. I definitely ran them hard during the warm up, and made sure they'd been stretched thoroughly during the morning Isometrics. Not sure whether to credit it to me pushing them or them, uh, working together on their Devotional days, but by lunch I pulled them aside again and said, "okay, I think I can let you guys back into Combat Training proper this afternoon."

"Thank you, Ma'am!"

"Don't thank me, you two did the work. Now go get some food."

As they dashed off, I wondered if I really needed to meet with Lenny Lancaster this week. Of course, part of me still intended to, because I'm a self-destructive bitch who deliberately does painful things the most painful way because I'm still my own worst enemy. Another part wanted advice from somebody nominally older and wiser than me who'd done the kind of training I was doing now. Also, I'd said I was gonna, so I was gonna. But contemplating all that gave me an idea.

I felt around mentally, then stepped to the dining room at Lancaster House. "Hey, Larry. You free this afternoon?"

He looked up at me, then turned to Bonnie, who shrugged and made a little shooing motion with one hand. Never seen someone told to 'go play' quite that affectionately or distractedly before. Then again, Most of her attention was taken up by Lucas, who appeared to be working on deflating a tit larger than his head. "What can I do for you, Commander?"

"I'm about to start teaching the Cadets how to handle swords."

He shrugged. "I'd say you're more than qualified, but of course I'm willing to help."

He nodded to the empty chair next to him, and I settled in to snag some lunch. "Thanks. Mostly, though, I kinda want you to tutor Citron once we get the rest of the class practicing. I'm pretty sure he's better than me. With a sword, anyhow."

He nodded at that. We chatted about the plans for the afternoon as we ate, and if I maybe got a little distracted when Bonnie swapped Lucas around to even out the deflation, Larry was even more distracted than me. Admittedly, his face had less 'surreptitious leer combined with awe at the sheer size of Bonnie's bountiful bosom' and more 'ongoing disbelief that he got to manhandle those mixed with new dad goofy'. But still, lunch came with a show.

When we finished, Bonnie handed Lucas off to one of her Maenads. I couldn't really tell which one, and that bugged me for some reason I couldn't fathom. Then she stood and started for the steps. "Don't be out too late!" she called over her shoulder as she sashayed away, followed by Lucas and his nursemaid.

"Damn. You sure you want to come help me out?"

He chuckled. "Like she'll indulge me if I stay home now, after saying I'd help you."

"Damn. Never thought having a wife dedicated to you keeping your personal integrity intact would have a down side, did you?"

He smiled at me, and I realized right then that after everything, Larry was probably my best non-coital friend I had in the here and now. "You sound like you have personal experience with that."

I snorted. "Me? Integrity? You must be thinking of someone else."

Not much to tell about the afternoon. Larry and I demonstrated the basic sword moves we wanted the Cadets working on, then watched as each of them went through them once. After that, I set them in groups of three, two alternating through the moves while a third watched to critique their form and make sure nobody got any ideas about actually tryna swordfight. Once we got them working, I pulled Citron and Hildegarde aside.

"Cadet Citron, you know Champion Lancaster?"

"Yes?"

"He'll be helping you hone your swordplay today. Listen to him; you're good, but I'm pretty sure he's better. He's faster, at any rate."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

I turned away as Larry stepped up to take over Citron, only to find Hildegarde looking at me with a weird mix of defiance and anticipation. "So you get to work with the least favored Cadet?"

I chuckled. "Put a sock in it, Hildegarde. You're the best Cadet in this class without weapons. Swords are never gonna feel natural for you. Hopefully Blades will at some point, but I'm not sure you're there yet. But for right now, I'm gonna work with you on a mix of short swords, daggers, and hand to hand moves to use when facing somebody with a sword."

She frowned midway through that, and when I waved for her to ask, said, "how do you know swords will never feel natural to me?"

I smiled at her as I said, "just a guess. Because they've never felt natural to me, either."

Y'know, I think I scored a hit with that one. Definitely had her complete and total attention all afternoon. Okay, except for one bit where Larry and Citron danced past us, their swords a flickering blur, while she and I lay on the ground mid-grapple. Can't really blame her, for all that Citron's a bit of a prig, the view was nice. I still faceplanted her for not paying attention though.