Dear Diary,

Kinda weird, both how a rival and a nemesis aren't really the same thing, but somebody can wind up slipping from one to the other pretty fuckin' quick, and how the former is so much more fuckin' useful than the latter.

I mean seriously, when Larry was my self-declared 'nemesis'? Or, well, when I took his little 'this will not go unavenged, a Lancaster never forgets, I love elephant cock' schtick as him declaring himself my nemesis? Yeah, now and then it pushed me a little, but mostly we just got in each other's fuckin way. Once I matured a little bit, and really kinda outgrew him as a nemesis, he slowly slipped into a 'not really all that dangerous' rival role. At that point he started using his brain to fuck with me, at which point he wound up pushing me a lot harder than he ever had when he was just trying to win a pissing contest against me with his micropenis. Which really shouldn't be surprising; how much flow can you really get with one of those? Also it's got to be a bitch to direct. Not like you can get a good grip on it.

Of course, there's that whole 'rivals to friends' thing that happened afterward. Mostly during our march through the woods. I mean, hell, in some ways if he makes it back here before I graduate, we'll probably still wind up friendly rivals and shit, but emphasis on the friendly. Like, I would absolutely take Saffron out drinking with Larry and Bonnie, maybe kick back doing the 'dudes don't dance' thing with him at the table while we watch Saffron and Bonnie do that 'we're friends who aren't interested in dancing between the sheets together in the slightest, but we can sure as fuck get our chosen steeds worked up doing the actual, non-horizontal lambada'. I might, maybe, if he was real nice about it and Bonnie didn't mind, let him dance with Saffron, just to experience the thrill of a dance partner who was actually small enough for him to feel all big and shit. It would also be funny as shit watching him and Saffron both trying to lead. Also, also that would totally give me a chance to ask her about how he managed to knock her up with a micropenis and all.

Okay, yeah, before I forget. Kitten?

Yes, Goof?

Remind me next time Larry and Bonnie are in town that I want to go bar hopping with them down on South Street.

Suspicion laced her reply. Why?

Because Larry and I are buds now, and it's been way too fuckin' long since I could just go get my dance on.

Dionysus' Revels happen on a regular basis, I suppose.

Nah. Not looking for a Revel. Shit, if we all hit a Revel we might get drunk enough to wind up pregnant via Larry's record setting micropenis potency. Hard pass on that. Also Bonnie shouldn't be drinking. Like, not Revel drinking.

Why not? Weird, she sounded honestly curious. So strange, the simple shit everybody knew back where I'm from, but is just some kind of mysterious secret here and now.

Bad for the baby. Duh.

So you just want to, what, go visit some bars that have music and dance?

Yep.

I'll remember that then.

Thanks, Kitten. Love you.

Love you too, Goof.

Anyway, I've finished my personal 'Nemesis to Sword Liege-man (and Friend?)' questline, but now Saffron has a Nemesis. Who is apparently trying to move herself into the Rival role, because unlike Larry and I, she's all smart and shit. I mean, she'd have to be for her to be Saffron's nemesis, right? The only other option I can think of is a hundred foot Jotnar dude with an IQ eclipsed by the typical houseplant. But apparently Cadet Karen Smith has decided that being Saffron's nemesis, much like Larry being mine, is just a prescription for hurt, whereas being Rivals they can actually spur each other to greatness or some shit like that.

Goddammit, if anybody is involved with Saffron and spurs, it better be me. Or maybe Marie. No, Cadet Smith can't join in, Saffron's too little to pull a three horse hitch. Oh, fuck, now I can never utter those words in her presence or she will absolutely do that, because no force on Heaven or Earth will push my Kitten to do shit she otherwise wouldn't consider more than telling her she can't do it.

Y'know, I've come to realize that while opposites attract, there's got to be commonalities for relationships to work, and that is absolutely something Saffron and I have in common. Makes me worried and curious, because I actually remember exactly who, what, and when someone told us we couldn't do something. Siobhan, in the Infirmary, with the Can't Get Each Other Pregnant.

Okay, look, I'm a little fuckin' busy right now, but as soon as shit settles down that's on the list.

Anyway, woke up this morning face to face with still snoozing Marie. Itty bitty snores told me Isnomi had the toddler bed, and with Saffron not between us and not at the desk working, I figured she'd decided to hog the entire bed to herself since nobody else was using it. Slightly less itty bitty snores filtered in from the bedroom, letting me know I'd woken up first. I reached out and brushed my hand along the side of Marie's face; with her lying there totally relaxed, her fur felt softer than ever. Almost like her natural tension kept her fur just a little stiff all the time. After a single affectionate stroke, I felt a little bad, what with the whole 'fondling the sleeping concubine' thing. The way she purred the moment my hand touched her, and it only rumbled deeper as I ran my hand across her? Did not assuage my guilt in the slightest, but sure as fuck lit a fire under my ass to wake her up and, y'know, see what it would take to get her to opt in on lazy Tabitha stroking. Lazy stroking by Tabitha? By me? Fuck it, not like I'd say 'no' if she wanted to reciprocate. Or maybe I would, just to get her to be as completely relaxed as I was now?

Anyway, I reached inside myself like I was gonna activate my stolen Healing Coma Skill, then flipped the script and deactivated it.

I kinda expected her eyes to pop open immediately, since I still had my hand on her cheek, what with Healing Coma being one of those Spells that's easier to Shape and control in physical contact with the target. Instead, her purring took on an entirely different timbre. Somehow more aware, and definitely more intense. Not, like, hunger rumbles though. Oh, yeah, she definitely had some hungry purrs, and I'd heard them, caused them, ended them to Marie's complete satisfaction. Not to mention that they were, like, catnip for Tabitha. But this? This was something I didn't remember hearing. If she'd ever done it around me, it had always been drowned out by something else, or I was too distracted to catch on.

I leaned in until our foreheads touched, felt the purr vibrate my brain just a little in a way that banished any lingering soreness from Monday's Soul realignment. "You awake?"

"yes" She breathed out that single word so quietly I almost thought I'd imagined it.

"I... I want to..." I have no idea why I could ask her to do the freakiest sadomasochistic shit imaginable with no perceptible hesitation, tell her I wanted to bang without flinching, but somehow couldn't manage to say, 'I want to pet your face'. Okay, thinking it out loud like that did seem a little freaky, but, y'know, wild assed sadomasochist shit, with Bondage for appetizers and Domme and Sub for dessert.

"yes" she breathed again. Her purring might have gotten the tiniest touch of something like hunger, but not that hyper-freaky hunger I knew so well. Instead it was... waiting. Patiently. The kind of patiently that only an immortal could really appreciate.

"May I..." Weird, but normally I'd be getting pissed at myself, forcing myself to say it out of spite or some shit, but that same patiently waiting purr just drained that shit right out of me.

"yes" she exhaled a third time, and I gave up and stroked the side of her face, feather light, brushing her platinum hair back as I did. Her purring changed, getting more intense without getting even the slightest bit louder. It rippled through quiet melodies and harmonies, harmonics reaching out through my arm, slipping me moment by moment closer to that blissful non-thought state we'd walked home in. Without thinking about it, my hand never quite going still, I leaned in and brushed my lips against hers.

"Sea," I breathed out almost as quietly as she had, my breath tickling my lips and, by the way they twitched ever so slightly, hers as well.

"smoke" she breathed back into my lips.

I don't know how long we lay there, lips barely touching, my hand gently stroking the side of her face, neither of us with any desire for anything more. Eventually, though, life intervened in the form of our little Menace looming over us from the edge of her bed. Our mutual smiles gently tugged us to something closer to conventional consciousness. Marie looked up at her and said, "Scamp."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Isnomi put on what I guess she thought of as a 'regal' look, but like most folks trying to hard, just wound up looking sorta constipated as she said, "goddeth!"

Marie chuckle-purred and said, "Same."

That's when I caught the edge of a sound that sent me from the edges of 'no-thought' to crisis mode in zero point zero seconds flat. In our bedroom, lying on her stomach facing the end of the bed and the connecting doorway like she'd been watching us, Saffron sobbed into the bed. I don't remember crossing the intervening space. I might not have. "Kitten?" I said, keeping my tone as soft as I could as I lay next to her, propped over her, sheltering her with my body without putting any weight on her. "Kitten? What's wrong?" I'd almost barked something about who I had to kill, but something told me this wasn't the time. Not quite. Not yet.

She rolled into me, arms snaking around me, and wept into my chest. "I... I want... But I can't... I can't..."

"Shh. Shh... I'm here, Kitten. I'm here, and you can do whatever the fuck you want. If anybody says different, I'll explain them into very small pieces why that's a bad fuckin' idea."

She giggled through her sobs at that, then, still sobbing quietly, whispered, "I'm the one who says different."

As gently as I could, I tilted her face back to look her in the eye. "Explain." When she hiccoughed again, I whispered, "take your time."

She smiled up at me, and I'd never seen a sadder smile. "That's just it. Time. 'My' time." She sighed, and let her words trickle out in a slow, steady stream. "This July I'll be an 'Adult'. I'm not just Mortal, love, I'm one of the shortest lived Mortal races. By fifty I'll be old. By sixty? Decrepit. No half-Bag I've ever heard of has lived to seventy. I've always known how precious my time is. How limited." She heaved a sigh, this one less heartbroken, but no less hurt for all that. "My time isn't my own any more."

"If you need a break, you take a break. Consider yourself commandmented if that's what you need."

She smiled sadly at me, a hand on my cheek mirroring what I'd done with Marie earlier. I even leaned into it and purred, unbidden. "I cannot, love. I cannot and still feel myself worthy of you, my love, my goddess, my wife." I opened my mouth, but she shook her head and spoke over me. "I mean that. I've found so many ways to do so much more than I ever thought I could, and I owe so much of that to you. To your unquestioning, unflinching trust in me." She smiled up at me. "Because of you, my Goddess? At any given moment on any given day I'm here researching my new Spells, in class with you, leading the Inter-City Council meeting, attending any Phileo Council meeting going on, leading the effort to set up Camden Yards' government, and if I'm very lucky canoodling with one or both of you."

I just leaned there, kinda gobsmacked. "Wow." That seemed a little too little. "Fuck." Fuck off, did I or did I not just say I was gobsmacked?

She just nuzzled into me, a little of the sadness spilling out of her smile. "Only when one of you two is eager to take the lead. I don't have that as a Skill yet, and I'm not sure I'd want to run on automatic for that anyhow."

"But doing it while necking is fine?" Can't stop the snark, even when I really want to, apparently.

Then again, it made her giggle. Totally worth. "Oh, please, dear Goof. How often are you thinking about what we're doing when I do this..." She then locked lips with me, and I have absolutely no idea how long I lost right there. When she came up for air, she continued, "and how often are you just enjoying the moment?"

I nodded sheepishly. "Well. Yeah. Point taken. Although I'd like to make clear how the forces of life conspire to assault that Point on the regular, so in my considered opinion we need to schedule frequent re-taking of that particular contested Point." She giggled and, without replying, not only sent another wave at that point, but set up some defense in depth. Concrete bunkers and automatic autocannon and shit. At some point I'm gonna try and Inspect her and the old Inspect is gonna break because it doesn't have room for the plusses next to 'Canoodling'. My girl has All The Skill with lip on lip action.

When she'd secured The Point to her momentary satisfaction, she said, "with that? Which is, not to understate its importance to me, the metaphoric equivalent of having your arm around me in class? Something that comforts all of me no matter how frustrated or boring my situations? I don't feel the need to pay attention for both of us to enjoy it to the fullest. But for anything more?" She blushed just a little. "If I'm not utterly passive, an object, a doll for you or Marie to play with as you will? I've stopped researching and put everything else on autopilot. Those deeply intimate times with you? They are precious to me, and I would not give them less than my full attention."

"So, like, why can't you do that with," I nodded to where Marie and I had lay in our long, quiet moment.

She sighed, her sobs stilled for now, but clearly not banished. "I don't think either of us could Co-Locate like that, love. I don't think I'd want to, either." She paused, firmed her shoulders a little, and the part of me that had been on edge, waiting for a target to eliminate the cause of her sobs, both relaxed and perked up to pay attention to her. "Moments where I focus on one or all of you? Those I need to survive as much, if not more, than sleep and food. You three are most of why I do what I do."

"Right back at you," I murmured, and she smiled.

"But... I could perhaps take a break from research for a day. Maybe a week. But the rest? With even the people I trust to do the work once I assign it to them distracted by Calverton and now Norfolk? I could not give myself over completely to the kind of relaxation the two of you shared with that hanging over me. Even if you Commanded me, my Goddess, I simply could not. I would fail. So please, please, please, do not Command that of me. Do not doom me to failure in my service of you."

I smiled down at her. "I've got absolute confidence in you, Kitten," before she could do more than tense the tiniest bit, I continued. "But I get that you don't. I'm not gonna force you on that. Not because I think you're wrong about it being impossible. My Kitten do six impossible things before most people wake up, because that is how my Kitten do. But you asked me not to. I'd be exactly the kind of hypocritical bitch I hate if I forced you into doing something like that."

"Thank you," she breathed into my cleavage, starting to snuggle herself into me.

"On the other hand," she tensed just a little, and I nosed her forehead until she took the hint and lifted her face to look at me. At which point I went to town licking her face while she giggled, laughed, and spluttered. When the only tension I felt in her was humor, I said, "whine. Whine. Bark, bark. Growl. Bark." She opened her mouth to say something, then broke down giggling again. I nosed her back up, planted a slobbery lick up the side of her face from her jawline to her forehead. "Whine. Bark. Growl, growl, woof, bark. Bork!"

Right about then my Kitten proved her absolute domination of all things smart related by translating from Maximum Goofy Idiot to Saffron, and if the sorrow hiding in her didn't lessen, something else rose to shore it up, contain it, hold it back for as long as she needed it. "Tabitha?"

"Woof?"

"Goof..." the slightest note of warning entered her voice.

I, of course, ignored the shit out of that, because have you been paying attention? "Bark?"

"Dog," she deadpanned.

"Yip, yip, yip!"

Somehow, even lying naked with her face covered in slobber and the faint remains of tear tracks, she managed to look regal. Imperious, even. "Listen well then, dog, for your Imperator commands you now. The Undead in Calverton and the rulers of Norfolk have become as thorns in my side. Without endangering our Citizens or besmirching the honor of our Alliance..." she trailed off, staring into my eyes, expectant.

"Bork?"

Her Grin could have routed the fucking Spartans. If they weren't, y'know, Arse-worshipping idiots. Which makes them sound way cooler than they are, because I'm cool and I am absolutely a devout follower of Adonitology. "Your Imperator Commands you, Most Beloved and Implacable Attack Dog. Neutralize. Them."

I crushed her to me. "Pant. Pant. Yip." Then I stopped fucking around with words and gave in to my inner Attack Dog and growled. Hard. To the point where her wheezing, giggling laugher vibrated in tune with it. When she stopped laughing, my voice hoarse, I whispered, "I will absolutely fuck them up so hard they will wind up in low earth orbit, Kitten."

That got another round of giggles out of her, until she finally said, "thank you, Goof. Thank you."

"Any time, Kitten. But for right now... you're in class, aren't you?"

Her eyes got super-shifty and she said, "maybe?"

"Yeah, what've you told them about why I'm not with you?"

She shrugged. "I said you had a wardrobe malfunction and would be along once Marie sorted you out."

"Fuck it, we've both already passed that class. Right the fuck now you're gonna tell Doc that you haven't been feeling entirely well, and that you're going back here to rest for the morning, and we'll go to the Infirmary if any of us aren't ready to come back to class after lunch."

"I am?"

"Yes. You are. Because that is absolutely a Command from your Goddess, who declares you need at least four hours being squished under a pile of purring Goddesses. Marie? Menace? Get on in here, we've got to purr this little Kitten into the closest thing she can get to a state of utter bliss until, y'know, I deal with that shit down south."

I didn't really even need to finish the sentence. At 'get on in here', both of them aborted their preparation for the day and headed toward us. Marie moving with her usual grace, Menace bounding across the floor practically on all fours before pouncing through the doorway to land atop the two of us.

I don't know if we really managed to get her anywhere near that whole 'non-thought' state, especially since I figured she was still keeping the Alliance from grinding to a Undead Jotnar induced halt, not to mention occasionally seeing a flicker of one of her floating Spell coding screens from the other room, but by mid-morning the her we'd made into the filling in a family burrito had gone completely limp, smiling and purring her own self.

Sometime after that she sighed. It could have been sad, or maybe frustrated, but mostly it came out amused. You know the worst part?

I haven't heard the worst part yet?

A giggle jiggled her against me enough to feel it even through the ongoing purr fest. Oh, I'm exaggerating for humorous effect, because if you haven't solved the problem, you've certainly abolished my earlier sorrow. Also, you might actually think this is the worst part, since the other you can solve through application of sanctioned, nay, adored violence.

I tried not to tense up, either in anticipation of going utterly ham on not one but two cities, or in nervousness at whatever she was about to tell me about. Go on?

I woke totally prepared to toy with you regarding my activities once I'd put the rest of you to bed last night. Then I saw what I believed to be the two of you about to engage in some adorably sweet antics and rather doubled down on things to tell you. Only to discover after that, well. You know the rest.

I snuggled into her, both to maybe hide my tension and to definitely let her know that I completely understood how her Awesome Plan of Antic Amplification had been ruined. Well fuck. Totally spoiled that. Dammit.

Oh, no, love. Not spoiled. Definitely spiced well enough to keep for later. But not now.

Yeah. not now. I grinned into her hair. My wife best wife.

No, you.

I'm still not sure if telling Cadet Smith why her obnoxious efforts to monopolize our time during the afternoon session failed to harsh our mellow so utterly would have been worse than not telling her.

Don't give a fuck, either.