When everything was fine this brat angel comes with some ominous talk about hurting me...

"Does that hero christening stuff does harm? What do you mean?"

"No! Not that. Before... I... I had no choice!" He raises his voice. In this calm night, it is almost like shouting. The flickering lantern light hides some of his features and enhances the shadows. It doesn't help to dispel the foreboding tone the conversation is taking.

Sartre would disagree with the 'had no choice' part, but his wisdom doesn't reach into another world. "Calm down and collect your thoughts. Then speak slowly. And don't raise your voice, there are sick people here."

"It was back in Colchester, erm..." He looks at Alvus.

The veteran apothecary nods and stands up, "I understand. I will excuse myself so you kids can talk in private. Good night, but don't raise a ruckus." And leaves.

"What did you do back in Colchester that might harm me?" He is very nervous. If he is holding it since back then, it snowballs and only gets harder to say.

He lets it out all at once without pause. "You ate my divinity and cut my wings. I was scared. You seemed a really bad guy back then. You can do something nobody else in this world can, even gods would have a hard time breaking the Curse. And you were going to ditch me behind!" And his voice gets sharper and sharper until it breaks at 'ditch'.

"And based on these completely misunderstood reasons, what did you do?"

"I charmed you! I had to keep an eye on you! I... I thought you were the bad guy!" Not 'a' bad guy, but 'the' bad guy.

Did this bird-brain angel mess with my mind? As if there were not enough hands already kneading my brain, my soul. I raise my voice, a little annoyed. "What did you do? Give me the details, now!" I remember there was something... I got a level of Charm Resistance I don't know where from...

"I thought you might be the second advent of Lucifer." It is 'the' guy then. And the BBFG to boot. Honestly, I think the world would be already doomed if I were. "I had to keep an eye on you. I used my spell, {Cupid's Arrow} on you. It maximizes affection with the other target of the spell... I needed you to take me with you." He is almost crying.

The day wasn't an easy day. Mortimer's death and the christening were really taxing. I'm not on top of my game and I know need to I stop to think about other things and distract myself because if I think of what he just said and what I already figured out, I'm punching him back to Colchester. Saitama style.

"And why the fuck didn't you ask? What is this coward's move that makes you mess with the head of your would-be allies? This holier-than-thou attitude like mortals are your plaything?"

He kneels and raises his hands. "Please forgive me."

"I won't." I turn my back to him. "The one to forgive you is not me. As you said, I did my share of bad things to you. Stay there. Don't move. I'll be back."

I go inside the clinic and kneel next to the bed where the girls are sleeping. I lightly shake Marcy.

She is half-awake and mumbles, "What? Beowulf, come in." And she throws her arms around my neck, pulling me. I resist.

"Wait, Marcy. It is not that. I want you to come with me. Please come out slowly and dress up."

"Right, Helen is sleeping. We can't wake her. Where do you want to do it?"

"It is not about that. Come outside. Zahariel is waiting."

"Outside is bloody damn cold!"

"I have a lot of coats here. Put them on and come. The boy has something to tell us."

She pouts but puts on some heavy clothes. We go outside and as I told him, he was there still kneeling in the cold ground.

"Why are you there, Zahariel? Stand up!" Marcy goes and pulls his arm, but he does not stand up.

"I'm sorry Marcy. I messed up. I used a spell on both of you to get you two together."

She lets go of him and asks in disbelief, "You did what?"

I think he will go for a loop before he explains it all. I step in and answer, "He used a spell to charm us. The day of the steamy bath. I was charmed, that is why I barged in."

Marcy stops to think and her gaze shifts from me to the kneeling angel. "So that is what happened." And back at me. She doesn't seem angry, "I suspected as much. That was too much boldness for a worrywart like you. And as you told me when the kid woke up at the wagon, 'angels do no evil', right? But looking back at everything that happened, I didn't hate it. Did you?"

And the motivational shit I spouted in the heat of the occasion comes back to bite me. I deserve that much, but now that the truth is out, it is the moment to do some soul-searching. What does Marcy mean to me?

She is a hot redhead bombshell that would easily win a magazine centerfold back on Earth. Her every movement exhales sensuality, even the gait of her walk has that 'I'm sexy and powerful and I know it' stance. Of course, physical attraction came first. And boy she does deliver more than what it says in the label. I'm dizzy just from remembering.

But there is much more in the person inside those curves. She is wise, knowledgeable, earnest, playful, and deep inside that femme fatale facade there is a shy and insecure girl. A fickle and skittish girl that would run and hide should her cover be exposed. This duality is tantalizing. And she is caring as well. If she is with you, hell would freeze before she thought of ditching you. The kind of girl that even if one is broke and eating instant noodles she would just shrug and cuddle under a blanket saying 'Let's just watch a rental flick tonight'.

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She is obviously uncomfortable with me gazing at her in silence, "What is up with all these funny faces? You are giving me a weird look!"

Would I hate to lose her? Definitely. And this hate is all going to a certain winged kid still kneeling down. A part of me would die if I was never again able to caress those crimson red locks. Do I love her? Yes. Would I grow old with Marcy?

She literally shakes me from my deep thinking, "Answer me! Did you hate being with me?" And her speech goes from an aggressive start to a mellow punchline.

There is no way out of this with any lies.

"I liked it very much. I've been on cloud nine since that day. It would break my heart to part with you there. What really pisses me is that he did all that without asking us!"

"But I did ask you. I talked to Marcy about her feelings on the dungeon trip, I also talked to you about your feelings while we were crafting those magic items at the warehouse! You were both infatuated with each other! Only after I got the confirmation from both of you is that I used the spell. I did nothing wrong!"

I need to be sure of one thing. "Did you manipulate Helen too?" Because if he did...

He throws his arms in defeat, "No! Why would I? This has nothing to do with her. I just gave you two a little nudge!"

That is the proverbial drop that spills everything. This is storybook angel behavior. Those high and mighty assholes pretend to know what is better for us mortals and then shove it up to our asses whether we like it or not. Just a little nudge? "Too many entities have already messed with my mind. Don't do it, not you too! You had no right to do it! Respect my agency! My own free will!" I was calming down, but after he denied wrongdoing I yell so hard that spit flies everywhere. I am boiling now.

Marcy is also agitated and grabs my arm with a fearful look in her eyes, "Beowulf, it is all right. I love you too. Even after knowing that he messed with our heads, I do. My feelings may be not as strong as Helen's but they are real! Please think before you do something you will regret!" She is also shouting at this point. Everything is reaching a boiling point.

"Just one hit!" With the Emperor's Might, of course.

"No! If you get this angry because a friend helped you hook up with a girl you were lusting after, my pride is going to get hurt. It means I am not good enough to make you get over that. And you won't lie your way out of it. I know how you looked at my breasts since that first meeting at the Colchester guild branch. One more time, did you hate what happened?"

She is going on the offensive to hide her fear. I'm afraid too, but the anger I'm feeling is greater than the fear. "That is not what I meant. He has to pay a penalty for doing it over our trust, however harmless or helpful it was. And I want to hear Helen's opinion on the matter."

Marcy points at the clinic door behind me. "Just turn around and ask them. Our little drama woke up half the town."

There are some lights at the windows. People are indeed peeking at us.

I turn around, afraid of what is going to happen. "How much did you hear, Helen? How much did you know?"

Helen comes next to us and pulls Zahariel up before answering "I heard enough. It was a surprise to me but it is all my fault. I am sorry, Beowulf!" Too many people are sorry in this place. What kind of rom-com is this?

"Sorry for what? Nothing here is your fault!"

"I was not enough to sate you. I was not bold enough and that is why..." I cut her.

It is no good to think that way, "No, it is not that. The culture of our worlds is too different. You don't need to worry about that!"

She didn't hear a word of what I said, "But now you will have your own realm. Rulers need to leave lots of offspring behind, and I am not sure if I am able to..."

How deeply rooted is this complex of hers? I feel like a jerk... I am a jerk for not noticing.

I interrupt her rambling again, "We are still young. There will be a lot of time to think about it when we settle these matters down. You don't need to worry."

"We will make sure you won't need a third. Marcy and I, we have been practicing and I am sure you..."

What were you practicing, I am curious to ask but my god how can I make her stop. Just stop, this is too much information.

Time to make her worries melt. Words won't get us out of this loop of self-blame and insecurity.

I slide next to Helen and pull her to me by the waist. Her slender figure loses contact with the ground as I pull her up to match my head height. I glance at those rosy lips for a moment before touching them with mine. She was startled and put up some resistance, but soon threw her arms around my neck to support her slender body. We kissed long enough to melt all her worries away.

"What were you talking about?" I ask when we finally part.

"I forgot." Her face is completely flushed and her mood giddy. It seems she forgot to breathe.

"Good. Because next time you come up with those needless worries about your own worth, you are getting another one of these." I let her go and turn to address the other concerned party.

"Can I be worried again in just a little while then?" She touches her lips and mumbles under her breath.

If she can joke, the crisis is averted. Next one.

It is rare to see Marcy blushing, but she is. I get really close to her but without touching.

"What happens now?" She asks me looking down and to her left.

"You said your feelings are not as strong as Helen's right? What do you want to happen? I know what I want but I want to hear you say it."

She points at the giddy Helen and declares without a sliver of doubt in her voice, "I want what she had."

"That won't do. You are taller. For you, there's this." The same kiss a sailor once gave a nurse to celebrate the end of a war.

I take her waist but instead of pulling I raise her a little and pull her backward and sideways and make her weight fall on my other arm that holds her head at the nape and I kiss her from above trapping her left hand against my chest. But if she wants strong feelings I will kick it up a notch. There is no France but the french kiss lives on in another world.

She is surprised at the sudden invasion but soon fights back the enemy tongue with her own champion. The fierce duel goes on as both fencers trade feints, stabs, explore the enemy terrain, and give and take terrain. Neither side dares admit defeat. She grabs my neck with her free hand and pulls me even closer to cut my path of retreat. In another front, a different type of weapon gets ready for battle too. This time it was me that lost the ability to breathe and reason. I can feel her heartbeats through her neck. Fast, strong. I dare steal a glimpse and the red of her hair is spreading all over her face. After a few more clashes the warriors decide to call the duel a draw and both retreat with honors after some long minutes.

I look Marcy in the eyes and ask, "Will this do? You are already mine, I won't let you go. If your feelings are not strong enough I will make you fall for me."

"I'll look forward to it." She tells me with her I'm-up-to-no-good look.

I'm a greedy bastard. If someone asked me before if I would be two-timing my earthling monogamous mentality would say 'hell, no' straight away. But right now, right here? They both belong to me, and if someone tries to take one of them away from me I'm going full troll style after the guy.

And then the mood is ruined by some peasant that shouts, "Now kiss the winged girl!" Hell, no.

The tension cools down in the winter night. I am finally able to laugh.

"Zahariel, you are off the hook. I forgive you. Next time you suspect something, please say it."

"You got it, boss. But please don't kiss me." He joins his hands behind his back and looks down. I should've added spikes or skulls to his suit.

Eww. I suddenly want to punch him again. From some twenty feet away.

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Arc 7: Troll and Homesickness END.