Chapter 14

Arthur and Tulla were putting the finishing touches on their surprise when a sudden—scent filled the air. It made him pause, his nostrils flaring at the peculiar mix of iron, sweat and… death… He turned, eyes falling upon a barely recognizable shape clad almost completely in tarnished black chiton, a haze of malignant darkness radiating from the form, two massive wings unfurling from the sides as a battered and gore-dried tail swept about like a happy dog. Gruesomely shedding errant bits of dried flesh and cracked blood—everywhere…

“Mommy!” Tulla screamed, leaping from her spot at his side and soaring right into the avatar of death itself that appeared in the center of his camp.

Dianna’s armoured mask fell away to reveal a face soaked with all manner of fluids and coated with grime, hair matted to her scalp and eyes all but feral as she scanned her surroundings as though not entirely sure where she was. It had edged closer to three weeks since She’d left, and, more than one person was beginning to become concerned with her absence… especially in light of the quartet's timely return with their third run for supplies and the—hunting incident. The demoness bent down, more of her armour falling away to reveal an entirely naked Dianna who scooped up her child and hugged her close, Tulle nuzzling against the woman's undeniably impressive chest before pulling away with a scowl.

“Oh… Mom, you really stink…”

“I got swallowed by a tunnel wyrm on the fifth floor in my sleep. Couldn't hurt me in my armour, but, certainly gave me a scare… and,” She grinned rather playfully, “a smell”

“Looks like you've all but bathed in an ocean of blood afterwards…” Arthur commented, noting just how many—layers of filth there were… It was honestly as impressive as it was—disturbing…

“You’re not far off, really…” Dianna beamed, looking at him with an earnest affection. “It was all more fun than I’ve had since the first time I tried to survive down there on my own… Arthur… your cards… their… their magnificent! I was unstoppable! A living god! I have so many Ideas! So many ways to improve over what didn't work and what did! I—I…”

“You need a bath.” Arthur grinned, both he and herself noting Tulla’s strained wriggling to get herself free, finally finding herself released and flying away with a grimace.

Dianna groaned with pleasure, sinking into the blistering waters with fluttering eyes, hair filled with a delightfully scented lather as bubbling jets soothed her aching body. Tulla swam around her, laughing and playing in the bubbles—after Arthur had let her go near the emptied then refilled pool. She was floating on air, riding her high of battle and subsequent papering relaxation with earnestly moderate disbelief. She had thought her days of conflict were over, had abandoned hopes for luxury and fulfillment, only to have it all thrust within her lap by a single person… a person who she’d threatened to kill on more than a single occasion, and, impossibly, had almost killed her in retaliation… Was the fluttering in her heart when she pictured his face what love was? Well, it was certainly how her sister had described it… though Dianna had never truly expected to find it herself…

It was entirely odd that she should be attracted to Arthur, given how—peculiar he looked, but it had been clear to her that attraction was exactly what it was. There’d been more than a few times when she’d been alone in the depths of an entirely separate reality wherein it was his face, not her daughters nor sisters, that had appeared in her thoughts when thinking of home… Now, confronted with this otherworldly chamber of steam and bubbles, the new house he’d built to accommodate both her and her daughter, and, of course, Tulla looking happier than she’d ever seen her, It was hard for Dianna not to pin the human down and take him on the ground. She’d very nearly come near to doing it too… but, had—respected his desires to wait until the evening when their child could be put down for bed in the trailer.

“Their child…” Dianna muttered, her tail dragging her daughter along in the bath as the girl laughed and demanded more speed.

It was hard to believe anyone could suddenly drop into her life so randomly as Arthur had and so totally commandeer it… not that she was really complaining at this point… Dianna tilted her head back, staring towards the new—home that Arthur had built for them in her absence, a strange but not unattractive thing that was almost utilitarian in its appearance, built with those now rather familiar white tiles that she was learning he liked to create with. The building was both tall and wide, with front doors appearing to have entirely taken into consideration her own dimensions during their inception. She had yet to actually explore the insides, but if her daughter's word was to be believed, then it was largely not dissimilar to Arthur's previous home. Truly, following her escapades within the labyrinth, Diana wouldn't have cared if she let herself soak in the outdoor bath for the rest of the night—however, when her nose scented something—frankly irresistible upon the slight breeze, she found nearly all her thoughts entirely consumed, mouth moistening with an involuntary desire…

“You two should think about getting out soon!” Arthur called, his voice disembodied as her absent mate worked his magic from their new home. “Food’s almost ready!”

Dianna extracted herself from the pool, tail wrapping itself around her daughter when the little fireball refused to depart. Tulla hissed and fussed as she was pulled from the bubbly heat and summarily dried off by her mother using a pair of rather new and soft towels, each purposefully left near the water on a rack. Dianna looked about, not seeing a better alternative to the towel for herself, and shrugged, tossing it aside as she began helping her daughter slip back into her own clothes. It wasn't long thereafter that Arthur came striding out of their new domicile, hands filled with a massive tray of food. When his grinning gaze fell upon the duo, Dianna smirked as he very nearly tripped over his own legs, eyes growing a fraction wider, jaw slipping as he just openly stared with what might only have been called disbelief. Not at all obtuse to exactly where his eyes were looking, or perhaps, roving, she merely cocked a suggestive hip, tail swaying coyly behind her. Dianna had been known to have something of an—effect upon those of the opposite sex, though she wasn't one to often expose herself in such a—debaucherous manner, it usually wasn't needed. Just her sweaty body and soaked clothes while in the practice yard had been enough for her to become the absolute center of many a man’s existence, and those few times she’d decided to take a man to bed had only ever reinforced the understanding that she was—attractive to say the least. Holding back a throaty chuckle as she watched her mate visibly seem to lose every thought within his head, It was with an effort that he managed to eventually recover himself, her ears picking up upon the gulp in his throat as, like a master performer, Arthurs expression shifted, that usual outgoing and extroverted persona he seemed to employ while at a social disadvantage making its way to the forefront of his emotions.

“There is a—robe just on the… on the…” He tried, voice just trailing off as Dianna noted where he was indicating with a grin before sashaying towards it to cover herself with no real urgency about her steps.

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“It smells delicious by the way, what is it that we will be spoilt with tonight?”

“Ah—ahem, well, I was going to try and get Tulla to eat a salad, but, seeing as you returned, I thought, given how tired you looked, that you might just prefer something with a little more—protein.”

Arthur placed the platter on the table, opening the lid to reveal a hulking heap of grilled steaks piled high upon each other and looking as though they could feed a small potluck. As it happened, Dianna got the feeling he knew exactly what he was doing with the portions, especially when she sat down, only for him to start placing the tender and juicy slabs upon a myriad of plates, each of which he pushed in her direction, along with a much smaller plate filled with what looked to be roasted vegetables from the garden and, a steaming potato. She raised her eye quizzically at this last addition, but, with fork and knife in hand, she wasted little time in digging in to the first plate that had made it her way. Bliss… that was the only way she could describe it… Forget his prior culinary inventions, it was, in the end, the humble steak, so difficult to master and so easy to ruin, that had Dianna closing her eyes in rapture as her teeth sunk deep into the first bite, sweltering juices and an inexplicably delicious seasoning all but making her tastebuds pop with delight. She moaned as she swallowed, a small growl escaping her throat as she eyed Arthur with pinning intensity.

“Good?”

“My muscles are going to thank you.”

“Then, by all means-” Arthur began with a smile, gesturing to the meal. “Dig in, don't hold yourself back for manner's sake, you must be utterly ravenous.”

“I am.” She replied with a wicked gleam, tongue flourishing across her lips as she held Arthur's gaze, only the sweet call of the meal before her pulling her thoughts away from what it was she was going to do to the poor man later that night. “The truth is that I haven't had much but sloppily charred meat over a fire for some time now… the food from the card was—well, it got boring fast as it usually does… what is it that you've used to make this taste so—spicy?”

“Fresh pepper.” Arthur smiled, helping Tulla with her own platter before serving himself. “My dad always said a good steak didn't need anything but fresh salt and pepper, and, I’ve lived by that creed ever since I started learning to cook—though, the meat isn't actually beef, it's what Tulla and I brought back from a little—hunting we did.”

“There's these huge shaggy yak things in the valley with the lake that the river flows to!” Tulla quickly picked up, eager to regain her mother's attention. “Arthur even let me play with his golem army!”

“Army?”

Arthur appeared—hesitant as her gaze, eyebrow raised in earnest question while her daughter merely continued to regal the table with her—recounting. When she finally slowed down, Dianna was well into her third helping, now eating at a more subdued pace but, yet still hungry, if not so desperately as before, chewing thoughtfully as she considered what she’d heard.

“It's really all quite a bit—less dangerous than it sounds…”

“I'm sure…”

Dianna was silent for several moments as she peered between the pair, wondering just exactly what else they had gotten into whilst she was gone… She didn't really care that Arthur was letting Tulla go—hunting with dangerous new toys, in fact, she actually was rather impressed he managed to convince her to do it in the first place, though she was deciding that she was going to have to—cease being surprised when it came to the man as his bag of tricks seemed as limitless as the sky itself. Nevertheless, she could sense that the duo were, for whatever reason, under the impression she wasn't—pleased and, despite herself, was enjoying watching the way her mate squirmed beneath her scrutiny. It fed a much deeper and primal part of her that wanted nothing more than to actually see the man's fear for her, largely because he was so damned good at hiding it… She let them both stew in their uncertainties for a while longer, leisurely enjoying her meal before eventually smiling, letting them both off the hook.

“I think I would like to bring Tulla to the labyrinth.” She stated, keeping eyecontact with Arthur as she did so. “Just the first floor… there's a city down there that I believe might do her good to see, and I'm sure she’ll love the experience of it; most bal children find it fun anyways, at least, those that get the chance.”

“Kaitrice?”

Dianna nodded, pleased that her brother and sister had been busy informing her husband of his new home. “It's probably the largest such example in all the Lacunae, a true melting pot of cultures and peoples. Under more—normal circumstances, I wouldn't bother, but, seeing as how we don't need to travel very far, nor pay the exorbitant taxes…”

“Cassie was making the exact same point the other morning…” Arthur admitted, leaning back in his chair and dabbing at his face with a napkin. “Tavir’s still on the fence about it, but with how far work on the new village is progressing, everyone seems to be in agreement that there is a very distinctive—lack of certain amenities…”

“You mean thralls?”

Dianna watched as Arthur's face scowled at the word, gaze growing distant… “Among other things, yes.” He confirmed bitterly.

“Slaves are a reality of our empire… and nearly every other civilization beyond it. Did your people not make use of such practices?”

“Our history is filled with slavery… I was raised in what my people heralded as a free utopia that honestly was anything but. We were entirely beholden to cultural expectations and money, all the while the value of our labour continued to decline and the cost of goods rose until there was only a comparative handful that controlled our society. It was an utter mess with no way out for most… I don't care if there are slaves in this universe as they still existed in mine as well, but let me ask you this, Dianna, do you honestly believe that, had you collared me and forced me into thralldom, that I would have been so forthcoming with my capabilities? Do you believe I would have gone through all the trouble of helping your people, of creating the bath for you and the new house, among everything else?”

“No…” Dianna allowed, watching the man across from her carefully. “I believe that, without the proper magic to bind your will, you would have tried to kill us and, possibly, even have succeeded to a concerning degree of probability…”

“Freedom breeds innovation.” The man, suddenly playing philosopher, continued. “Only when people are free, even if they are still beholden to another’s will through law or oath, only then do they truly strive to better both themselves and the world around them. If there is nothing to gain then there is no incentive, and, if there's no incentive then what you get is laziness and contempt.”

“Magic solves quite a few of those issues, actually. From the sounds of it, my people's development in this regard sounds to finally be something more advanced than your own.” The demoness clicked her tongue, twirling her fork between two fingers as she idly observed the chrome polish of its prongs. “When we bind a new slave—” Dianna continued, spearing a carrot with lazy interest. “We employ the use of enchantments that guarantee subservience on an—emotional scale. A properly indoctrinated thrall will desire to serve their master’s, sort of like a charm.” Dianna could see how her mate’s expression only darkened the more she spoke of the matter, enough so that it gave her pause. With a sigh, she placed her utensils on her plate, leaning forwards with clasped hands while her tail wrapped itself around the man, holding him snugly in a manner she’d come to realize he secretly enjoyed. “It isn't as though they have no rights, Arthur.” She continued, tone taking on the air of a teacher explaining basic concepts to a class of younglings. “In many cases, our slaves are treated better within the empire than where they've been taken from. We are not savages who force those beneath us to grovel through the mud without reason, and, many as of late have even fled their lands seeking refuge within the imperium as thralls.”

“I get it, Dianna, I do; I just don't like it.”

“You'll get used to it, Arthur, I assure you.” The demoness stated, tone weary as it escaped her lips. “We all do, however. The Lacunae is not the same utopia of your homeland, and you should not treat it as such; doing so will only disappoint you.”

Arthur nodded his head, hands moving to grasp at Dianna’s tail as though taking a semblance of comfort from its warmth. It had been a while since they’d shared this contact, and it was—nice. Still, she felt her eyes glaze as she considered just how—strange the contrast of her mate’s warring ideas felt as they visibly clashed in his mind. He seemed to dislike violence as a whole, but, wasn't beyond it if pressed, or, it served a purpose, more, at least from the sounds of it, he was a frightful talent at killing, or, devising ways to do so. He detested slavery even though he himself admitted that his utopia existed in a quasi-subjugated state wherein the average citizen walked that very line between servitude and freedom. He was soft while also, at times, calculating and cold… merciless and filled with a bleeding heart for those he didn't even know… She might have called him hypocritical if she’d had a mind to make him angry with her, but, idealistic or not, instead of starting an argument, she merely returned to her meal, enjoying a few morsels before continuing where they’d left off.