Dear Diary,

“The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.”

-G.K. Chesterton, Illustrated London News, Jan. 14, 1911

Not sure how true that is in detail in every case, but it's sure as fuck true in general. Like, yeah, I can get my rage on when somebody hurts my loved ones, and in that moment I sure as fuck hate the people I'm fighting against. No way I could have done what I did to Oliver if I didn't. But it all started because, y'know, they'd squished my love. Which later turned out to be less than accurate, but that's still what I thought at the time.

I think that's maybe why I can look at the New Amsterdam Levies and Calverton Soldiers and see allies and troops I'm here to protect rather than 'former enemies', because the moment they stopped being a threat to me and mine? Mostly mine, because me doesn't detect threats to me very well? They more or less dropped off my radar, and the moment they joined the Alliance they became part of the much broader 'mine' that encompasses everything and everyone encompassed by Mimic's Tectonically Enormous Metaphoric Space Ass.

Speaking of enormous space ass, Mimic Dreamt of planting hers right in the fuckin' Bay. Still won't go near Calverton, but the Chesapeake Bay is now hers, and if she seemed to enjoy dipping her bits in the Atlantic and having the psychotropic psychedelic tadpoles do their thing, apparently the Bay makes that shit even better. I don't really remember trying ecstasy back at Eastside, but that's mostly because the one time I got a chance was when I hooked up with a dealer, and by the time he pulled out the Molly I was so fuckin' high I'm surprised I remember the night at all. But the tadpoles had what I thought was a similar effect, amplifying the mouth feel and taste of every shrimp and chef yeeted into my maw.

Woke to a grinning Menace holding my ears and staring at my face. The moment my eyes slipped open, she started chanting, "fye. fye. fye. fye."

I laughed. "Okay, Menace, okay." I twisted around a little as I wrapped my arms around her and crushed her with a big hug. "Marie, can you come with for the flying? Just in case we need a brain in both locations?"

Marie chuckled, scooped me up into a proportionally equally crushing hug that carefully avoided trapping Menace under that pressure, and said, "Both."

I remember reading that bit about neurospicy love languages, and lemme tell you, Marie had 'crush my Soul back into my body' sewn up. Literally. Okay, she could literally crush my Soul back into my body. Come to think of it, she could probably stitch-witchery my Soul back into my body too. I rubbed my face against her, and giggled when Menace did the same to me. "Sweet."

Marie bent down, licked my entire forehead at once, because her tongue has to be experienced to be believed, then purred out, "Vlickies."

She handed me to another her, this one dressed in her Maid's uniform, then one of the other two of her absconded with Isnomi and got her dressed up in her flight gear while Maid Marie Co-Located the two of us, then held me out so three more of her could dress me; one in my Academy uniform, one in my jeans and white tee shirt, and one in The Dress. Then she just held all of me dangling there while another three of her got dressed. One in her own jeans and tee shirt, which would have normally been a little bit of a brain reboot, but the two who took their time putting on Marie-sized Glowing Midnight replicas left me with zero brain function.

Saffron just laughed up at me. "You okay, Goof? You're looking Goofier than normal."

"Murder Mittens Priddy."

Before Saffron could do more than laugh, our little leather flight suited Menace barked out, "Yeth!", then scaled up the back of jeans Marie and tried to reach for her glider. Marie handed her off to the me with the jeans, and I snuggled her until she giggled while Marie took down her glider.

"You want to join us, Kitten?"

Saffron, all decked out in Glowing Midnight, which was apparently not only her 'Imperator uniform', but also her preferred togs for sitting in the office coding, said, "you know, I wasn't going to, but with the two of you there, I need not be there for any purpose to enjoy watching my daughter play. So," She stepped over, laid a hand against Marie's side and mine, and a moment later the four of us stood on the roof, three adults in jeans and tee shirts, one Menace in her flight suit.

A short while later Marie had Menace buckled in, and I said, "you want me to give you a boost?" I thought she'd rattle her brain with how hard she nodded. I lifted her off the ground, holding her above my head by the waist with both hands. Then I walked up to the peak of the roof, lined myself up with the middle of the Practice Yard, and kicked off into the fastest sprint I could. When I hit the edge of the roof, I leapt and yeeted her as hard as I could, and she rocketed skyward, shrieking gleefully the entire time. I Translocated back to the top of the roof directly in line with Marie. I couldn't stop myself before I got to her, but I slowed down enough that she grabbed me as I went by and spun me around. I might have been cackling nearly as much as the Menace. "Thanks, Murder Mitt..." She shut me all the way the hell up with an irresistible Marie mouth invasion, and I had absolutely no problem with that kicking off our morning of Menace watching.

Meanwhile, down in the office, she stepped over to the Marie and I in our High Priestess dresses and asked, "love, could you come with me today?"

I frowned. "Council getting uppity?"

She tilted her head, "not precisely? Say rather that I'd prefer to remind them of your existence before any of them decide to do anything I might have to call you in to correct."

I sighed. "Okay then. I guess. You okay if I sit on the rock?"

She smirked. "Will you be wearing panties today?"

"Pfft. As if." I paused. "Wait, is that a requirement for rock sitting?"

She Grinned at me. "Oh, no. I'm just suddenly looking forward to my day of managing the Council far more. Much better view."

"Nah." When she raised an eyebrow, I explained, "you've got Marie there in that dress. That's some slobber worthy shit right there. I'm just, I dunno, vulgar compared to that."

Marie lay one finger over my mouth, shaking her head, and said, "Democracy."

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

At my confused look, Saffron chuckled and said, "you've been outvoted. You're cutest. We decided."

Saffron lay a hand on each of our bellies, biting her lip as she did, and the next moment we stood on the deck of the Black Dragon. "This is not the Capitol."

She Grinned up at me. "So perceptive. Are you sure you're my Goof?" Before I could reply to that she stepped over to the rail and called out, "Princess Olga!"

The Princess, who'd been half-kneeling by the prow talking with her dad, walked over to us. "Hail, Imperator!"

When she got close, Saffron said, "I'm sorry to spring this on you, but I'd like you to choose a representative to the Inter-City Council for Norfolk."

Olga frowned a little, but more in thought than any kind of upset. "Shouldn't the Queen choose that?"

I fielded that. "Hey, I'm only Queen until we get to a position I can abdicate and crown you. Or, I dunno, do we do it in the opposite order? Whichever. Short version, you're the one who's gonna be working with whoever we pick, so better if you pick them."

She frowned, then quietly said, "honestly I'd prefer to send my father, but not until his health improves."

Saffron nodded. "Since Admiral Swanson has been ordering the troops, and I think we'd like continuity there, the Queen's Seneschal isn't our best choice. Perhaps Svart or Weyson? Since neither has a Jarldom to manage at this point?"

Olga thought about that for a moment. "I want Svart as my Seneschal as soon as possible. So how about Weyson in the interim until father's feeling better?"

Saffron nodded. "Could you fetch him back here, please?"

If she took exception to Kitten's choice of verbs, Olga didn't say anything. After a few minutes of listening to the trebuchets firing, she returned, carrying a white-robed figure in one hand. She set him on the deck next to us, and if he looked a little ruffled, he looked equally resigned. "I'm told you need me to represent Norfolk on this Inter-City Council?"

"Yes." Saffron pulled Marie and my hands to her shoulders, then reached out, took Weyson's hand, and stepped the four of us to the Alliance Council Chamber, leaving one each of Marie and I on the deck.

Olga looked down at us, frowning. "Wasn't she going to take the two of you with her?"

I Co-Located to her shoulder and said, "this has more uses than just kicking two people in the ass at once, y'know."

She laughed. "So, when do we launch the attack?"

"How much longer until we run out of rocks?"

She shrugged. "We've had some of our Jotnar bringing more as we've been firing. There are a lot of rocks on the eastern shore."

I nodded. "Are we out of Cold Iron enhanced rocks?"

"Long since."

"Okay, then. Let's gather up the Trolls just down from the hull, have the Jotnar hide on the far side so they don't realize we're gathering."

"Some of us will have to crawl." Olga's expression told me what she thought of that.

"Yeah, well. I cannot count the number of times I blessed this big fuzzy ball of sexy murder's ability to make dirty shit clean." Before either of them could respond, I cut in with, "almost competes with her ability to make stuff dirty. In fun and exciting ways."

Olga laughed. "Shall we stop our bombardment, then?"

"Nope. Swanson! Get down here!" A minute later he jogged over, having slid down the ladders between the bridge and the deck like he could have just hopped down. Then again, I could, and he wasn't exactly weak. When he arrived, before he said anything, I started snapping out orders. "Get with the Legion commander, time it so our last volley hits maybe thirty seconds before they arrive at the docks. As soon as they hit anything bigger or tougher than a bog standard zombie," at their look of confusion, I corrected to, "basic Undead, or when they get to the docks, the Jotnar all pop up and charge; we send all the Longboats in after them. Move our big combat boats close enough to provide fire support. Keep the supply ships moored back here. Nobody do anything stupid like damaging their ships on landing, because I want to be able to pull wounded back as fast as we need to, not to mention sending supplies forward to our ground pounders and our close support ships at least as fast as we can. Got all that?"

"Yes, Majesty."

"Make it so. I'm gonna go see if there are any binocs I can use to keep an eye on things from here."

He cocked his head. "You will not be leading from the front?"

I shook my head. "No. I can't use my Mana Blades against Undead what have been converted too far, which I'm assuming anybody still walking around is. That means I'm gonna be Translocating and Co-Locating even more, and that shit draws Undead like flies to shit. If they're all already concentrated, or there's a big one, not a problem, but I don't want to create a problem just by being there."

"As you say, Majesty. Should we be about it?" At my nod, he strode off, calling out orders to the lackeys who'd taken to following him around. For her part, Olga turned and started gathering the Jotnar.

I turned to Marie, lay a hand on her, and stepped us up to the top of the tower. "You're going in with me no matter what I say, aren't you?" She nodded, so I Co-Located, drew my sword-staves, handed her one, then collapsed back to myself. She kinda stared at it, then flexed her claws. "Yeah, I know, Mittens, but you saw what happened with the Dragon. Miasma hits you as hard as anybody else. You need a little reach."

She unconsciously blepped in annoyance, but she started spinning it, testing out the weight and reach.

Meanwhile, in the Council Chambers, Saffron introduced Weyson and started the days' discussions. I watched as Lancaster and Weyson formally greeted each other, frowning at the thought that they'd wind up an Odin-centric voting bloc, but by lunchtime the part of me still paying attention realized the two of them were definitely not on the same wavelength.

The fuck is up with that? Are they setting up some kind of long term play? Do they have personal bad blood?

The All-Father promotes competition between his High Priests. Much as he does between Cities.

That blew me away just a little. Is... is he actually an idiot?

I wouldn't call him that. I thought nothing. To his face. Mind blank, focused on Marie's eyes flickering to my eye-level-to-her hoo hah, because she sure as shit was just as bored as I was, even after stretching our Drivers' crepe breakfast out as long as we could. Unless I had a clear path to run, possibly with traps and caltrops in place.

I giggled a little at that. When the Council looked up at me, I shrugged and said, "Sorry. Loki just told me a joke."

Throwing me under the bus already?

Oh, please, Boss. The bus would come out the loser on that.

Your confidence in me is touching.

Yeah, yeah. I'm supposed to be grouchy, so you go back to conning Sigyn into touching you.

Did... did you just tell me to literally fuck off?

Maybe. When his laughter rolled through my head, I thought, thanks for the laugh, Boss. You're the best.

I know.

By lunchtime, the assault on Calverton's docks started. I watched through a pair of antique spotting binoculars I'd found as My Bois the Trolls tore through something underwater. From the body parts floating to the surface, I'd guess some normal non-Hole Spawn Bay Catfish, big fuckers, plus dozens upon dozens of zombie sailors. Right before they hit the docks, a single Hole Spawned Crab reared up, and the Jotnar charged. A couple bigger ones did what I guessed they thought were cool 'sliding across the deck instead of going around' maneuvers.

I amplified my voice and shouted, "when we have the docks, you two are coming back here and scrubbing the decks!" Dunno if they heard me, but I do know that before the Jotnar arrived, before I even seriously thought about Translocating up to the Crab, my Bois used their Halberds and numbers to do unto the Crab not unlike I'd done. More of them, and they tore its crustacean limbs off as well as shoving pole arms into its innards and brain, but like they say, 'overkill is just enough'.

Kind of disappointed when, a couple hours later, the docks were ours, all without me and Marie ever leaving our perch.

Way less disappointed when, as Marie and I clustered around Saffron for lunch, she lay a hand on each of our forearms briefly, Co-Locating all three of us to the Love Shack.

Sans Holy Garb. Or any garb at all, for that matter.

"Forgive me, love, but you're not the only one that needs stress relief." Marie growled and nodded agreement. I had no way to express my wholehearted agreement, because my mouth and hands were already occupied. Which, I suppose, expressed it well enough, since they reciprocated fervently.

My wives best wives.