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Diary of a Teenaged Mimic
Day Three Hundred And Forty-One

Day Three Hundred And Forty-One

Dear Diary,

It's so weird that for the past couple days, I've been fighting just a little more each day, but I'm actually getting calmer, more focused and, I dunno, 'serene' doesn't quite work, because I'm me, but something like that, because I'm not getting pissed off in the slightest, even when one of the Undead Trolls manages to surprise me and tag me with their polearms.

Maybe I'd get pissier if they managed to get close enough for that miasma aura to get to me, or if they actually laid claws on me. But so far the best any of them have done is manage to look like part of the crap on the bottom of the bay long enough to get within polearm reach. Worst case, they kill one of me, which I've come to realize despawns that one, so I don't even have to worry about some kind of evil anti-me spawning. Okay, maybe if the miasma or aura or whatever did the killing, but not from just getting stabbed in the brainpan with a polearm. Yes, that is a very specific example and no, I don't wanna talk about it, because I was absolutely distracted at that moment, which is kind of embarrassing.

I think it's a sign of personal growth that I'm not embarrassed about what specifically distracted me, but the fact that I failed to maintain my focus on the job at hand. I mean, the job at hand in the bay, my hands didn't really have a specific job in the Love Shack, because apparently they tend to wander when left to their own devices, so Saffron and Marie have taken turns alternately holding them down or just, y'know, holding them. The latter is pretty distracting, because we just haven't had all that much time to do that. Given everything else they'd come up with to distract me, and Saffron had definitely gotten creative over the past few days, the fact that 'hand holding' is so high on the list has got to mean something. Then again, it's even more distracting when they keep my wrists from moving. Holding hands my hands aren't really moving, per se, but they're doing something. When they hold my wrists my hands are just... there. Forced to inactivity. I think forced inactivity might be my own personal Hell.

I'm not sure if I like this kind of fighting though. I mean, so long as I maintain my focus I'm winning, and not even 'just barely', or anything short of 'dominating everything I come across'. I've got around a dozen of me in motion ahead of the fleet at any given moment, scanning the bottom, occasionally spinning my sword staff through some tangled shit on the bottom that looks like it might be hiding a Troll or something big enough to threaten a human sized person. I can't do each and every one of those clumps, which is why the fleet is advancing with those fishing nets out, and the Jotnar fishermen are still panning for Trolls, but honestly even that feels like a big accomplishment for me. Ever since the Walls, I've had this feeling like if I don't take care of everything, someone I care about will wind up paying the price for my failure. Here in the Bay I'm definitely the tip of the spear, and I'm good with that, what with having soaked one lethal shot already with nothing damaged but my pride, but I'm not the only person doing the job. The Trolls, the Jotnar, the Jarls, the Heroes, hell even the Thralls and Soldiers and Levies and Volunteers are each doing their part, although most of the Volunteers are really just guarding the supply boats. None of them are as tough or dangerous as I am, but that's okay. They don't have to be to get their part of the job done, and that's the important thing; that the job gets done.

So right now we've got twenty five recovered Trolls, and we've had to put down another forty. According to Furtim, that leaves another thirty five of their Centuria unaccounted for. Of course, I did not like the conversation we had at watch change right after sun up.

"Centurion, I'm a little concerned that whatever is waiting for us will know we're coming."

Furtim's response came after a pause, almost as if they didn't want to upset me. "No point in concern."

"Why?"

"They know." They stated it with such utter certainty I could only stare for a bit.

"How?"

"Scouts. First duty to report back. Remainder are to delay us."

While my 'I have a bad feeling' feeling got deeper, I'd pretty much walled it off in a part of my brain I wasn't thinking about at the moment, and we all know how good I am at not thinking. "If we just rush past, they're gonna cornhole us, aren't they?" That just got the slow 'talking to the stupid kid' nod it deserved. I sighed, worked my neck, and nodded to the stairs leading below decks. "Get some rest. Six days until Calverton, although I'm gonna push fast today, see if we can make it five without letting anything through." They just nodded and followed their Trolls below deck.

Not long after that, as the fleet got its ass in gear, the me I left aboard ship to talk with the fleet saw a couple ships at the rear sailing away. I stepped back to the deck of one of them and found Admiral Pesce at the wheel. "What's up, Joseph?"

He blinked a little, but took my sudden appearance pretty well otherwise. He nodded to the other ships. "We're all empty, heading back for more cargoes of food. The Imperator suggested instead of having one big fleet going back and forth, we have smaller flotillas leave every few days, so we've always got some incoming."

"Damn. Wish I'd have thought of that."

He smiled at me. "That's why she's the Imperator."

I couldn't help it, I laughed at that. "Yeah, you're right." After a second I said, "aren't you, y'know, the Admiral? Like, not supposed to be the guy on the steering wheel?"

He laughed. "You caught me. I've always wanted to steer one of these big girls. Since Swanson is acting as Admiral for the fleet proper, I'll be with a resupply flotilla; I'll probably swap over to a new ship each time."

I looked around at the ship, realized that whether he was the actual owner of the ship or not it was, in fact, one of the bigger cargo ships we'd brought along. "Hey, could you do me a little favor when you go past Norfolk?"

He nodded. "Of course, High Priestess."

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"I've got a pair of gifts for the Imperator waiting at Jarl Karlson's former Jarldom. I'll have them brought down to the Bay shore."

He frowned just a little. "Will you have someone guarding them?"

I shrugged. "I guess? I'll ask a couple Thralls to make sure nobody makes off with them, but they're on the big side."

"How big?"

"Thirty foot long, maybe two foot across."

He might have choked on his spit a little bit. "What are you sending her? Trees?"

I blushed. "Jotnar femurs."

His mouth worked, but nothing came out for a bit. Finally, he just nodded. "I'll see it done then."

I clapped him on the shoulder, careful not to clap him too hard. "Good man! Thanks!"

With that I stepped my way back across the fleet to the ship I'd started on. I realized just then that I wasn't on the ship with Swanson, but the one my Trolls had bivouacked on. I hopped over to the dude manning the wheel and asked, "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know which ship Admiral Swanson is on, would you?"

He nodded respectfully and said, "yes, my Queen. He commands from the Od... Loki's Prize."

"Thanks! Keep up the good work!" With that I stepped away, skipping from ship to ship until I spotted my bright red tagging on the bow of one of the big sailboats. I stepped to the upper deck at the rear of the ship, but Swanson was neither there nor at the bow. I looked down at the guy on the tiller and called out, "hey, where's Swanson?"

Without looking up he called back, "The Admiral is in his cabin."

I stepped down into his line of sight and said, "thanks! You might wanna look to see who you're getting snarky with about titles in the future though."

He nodded, not really repentant, but fuck it, not like I'm huge on titles in any case. "As you say, My Queen."

I skipped over to the door into the cabin beneath the aft upper deck, only to find Swanson sitting at a big desk covered in paperwork. "What's up, my dude?"

He looked up, nodded respectfully, but kept shuffling paper. "My Queen."

"Funny. I kinda expected you to be topside waiting for a crack at the first Hole Spawn we see?"

He smiled humorlessly. "Were you not with the fleet, I fully expect I would be needed to deal with any such we come across. As it is, I suspect if we meet more than two, I'll need to set this work down and take up my sword. But..."

"But?"

"Under our former King, prowess in combat counted for more than any other single facet of a man's performance. Our Queen, however, seems to be more interested in the well being of her warriors. Well, all her people, I should say, although for now I'm focused on those along on this expedition." The whole time he'd spoken with me, he'd kept reading through papers, sometimes taking notes, other times just shuffling them into piles.

"You don't sound like you like the job. How'd you get it, anyhow?"

He shrugged. "It is part of a Jarl's duties, even if it has been one easily overlooked of late. But as the Queen's Seneschal, this falls upon me. Especially as she's made it clear she wants her people taken care of, but is focused on fighting herself."

My mouth dropped open. "Shit. I totally ought to be doing that, shouldn't I?"

"If you were doing this, I would be our first line of defense against Hole Spawn. I prefer this, if it matters."

I barked out a laugh. "Okay. Fair point. I suck at that kind of thing anyhow; it's why I pointed the Imperator job at Saffron after the Battle of the Walls. Is there anything I can do to help you, though? Anything you want? That doesn't, y'know, involve slavery or rape?"

He thought about his answer a moment. "If I may be so bold?" At my nod, he said, "I suspect you use that latter word differently to how it's been used in Norfolk, and when we've dealt with Calverton it might behoove you to have a discussion about that with Princess Olga. With her in mind, I would also..." he trailed off, then set his papers aside and looked at me. "Could you grant me amnesty before her ascension to the throne?"

I gave him all the side eye, but asked, "Is this about shit that happened before I took over?" He shook his head, and I continued with, "okay, is it about rape or murder?" Another head shake. "Did you do something to piss her off?"

He smiled. "A bit. She wanted Svart as Admiral. Which would be her right as Queen, but frankly while Svart is an excellent craftsman and a formidable warrior, he's not exactly the best in Norfolk when it comes to managing supplies."

"How do you know that? Wasn't he Gregor's quartermaster?"

Swanson nodded. "He was. Because he was and is a better warrior than I, and that's all Gregor cared about. But I know he's not because I am. But me insisting on taking on this task as Queen's Seneschal did not sit well with her."

Well, shit. That didn't sound like anything he ought to be punished for. "Okay, when this shit is over with, I'll have to make sure you haven't been, I dunno, sneaking Thralls into your bedroom on the sly or secretly murdering people who pissed you off or, I dunno, eating babies or some shit, but assuming you're just doing what you told me? If I can't wring some kind of full pardon out of Olga, at worst I'll take you along with me when I return to Phileo."

"Ah..." For the first time today, he looked a little shifty. "About that..."

I snorted. "Spill it now, and I won't be pissed about the 'keeping secrets' part."

He nodded, took a deep breath, and said, "I brought Cook along with me."

It took me a second. When I remembered, I growled at him. "I thought I said no more Thralls, Swanson."

He shook his head. "She's not a Thrall. You made that clear. I asked her to come. She did."

"And when you asked her to fuck you?"

He frowned at me. "I didn't. She did. I have tried to follow your wishes, My Queen, but I am a man, with a man's needs."

I sucked my teeth a bit. "Well, shit. I know all about needs. But the Thrall whose job used to be hauling your ashes continuing to haul them after she's 'free' is really sus, Swanson."

He nodded. "I had hoped if you bring me with you to Phileo, she could come along."

I shook my head, but said, "when this is all over, she and I are gonna have a conversation in private."

"And if she tells you I have taken liberties since your ascension, you kill me?"

"Nope. I just take your limbs off, then I leave you with her and a very sharp knife."

He smiled. "Well. Per your orders I already gave her one and showed her how to use it, so while I might not enjoy my last moments, at least they will end quickly."

I smiled back, but without a lot of humor in it. "Well. That's a good sign, anyway." I took a deep breath, let it out. "Good work on everything else, though. Keep it up, I'll try to make sure you don't get roped into Hole Spawn fighting."

"Thank you, My Queen."

With that I stepped back to the deck of the ship with my Trolls. As I leaned on the rail next to the bow to watch the fleet advance, the Saffron back in the Love Shack let me breathe long enough to lower her lips to my ear. "I've been watching you."

Suddenly worried my surprise for her had been ruined, I asked, "How long?"

"Since you entered the Admiral's cabin."

"Oh. And?"

She rose back to kneel next to me, her fingers toying with my ears. Through a haze of not giving a shit about anything else in the multiverse, I heard her say, "had you heard him say that the night you brought Hilde home, you wouldn't have listened to his explanation, let alone leave him alive long enough to finish his work."

"Oh." She seemed to be expecting more of a reply, so I cudgeled my brain until it came up with, "is that good?"

She giggled. "Oh, my love, you have indeed been a Very. Good. Girl." With that she went back to suffocating me in the best way possible.

Y'know, I'd say something about not knowing I had such a Praise Kink, but let's face it, I've been looking to collect the whole set, and this one is way better than most of the ones tucked away in my noggin.