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jeriendhalRestarting this story, since after further thinking I realized it really had to be set on Greenholme with its unexplored frontiers, not Foxen Prime.
PG-13 for a couple of F-bombs, domestic drama, and discussion of character sexualities.
“So I was thinking that once we get back home to Foxen Prime we can go over the quarterly earnings report for the plantation on Nagrim, then later you and I could…” Melanie paused, looking at her husband Rolas’ back from her perch at the edge of the bed. Normally this was an enjoyable exercise, especially in the morning, while he was still undressed and allowing her a fine view of his well-muscled shoulders. The definition was visible even under the tall foxen male’s dark brown pelt, his black tail waving over his ass cheeks.
“Rolas, are you even listening to me?” she prompted.
“Mm, yes dear,” he murmured, still looking out the open glass doors to the morning dawn rising over distant trees. They current digs were in the guest suite of the newly rebuilt Governor's Mansion on Greenholme, a House Darktail’s colony. Until a week ago Rolas had been its temporary governor general, while his sister attended to matters political and personal back on the homeworld. They had expected Rolas’ temporary assignment to be no more than six weeks, but complications had set in, to put it mildly, and Melanie had found herself stuck on this backward colony for over fourteen bloody months.
Melanie blinked her eyes at him, switching her adaptive contact lenses from blue to green-gold, then took a brush from the table with her black paw and ran it through her thick red tail fur, then over the splash of white fur at her neck and cleavage, as she continued, “So as I was saying, I was thinking after that we can have a meeting with Miss Hewitt. She’s the rep for that human consortium that wants to create a consolidated shipping line with my company, all the way to Earth.”
“Yes, dear.”
She paused for a moment, then asked, “Are you really listening?”
“Yes, dear.”
“So I assume you’re all right with me setting your tail on fire, yes?”
“Yes, of course,” he said, his neutral tone not changing a bit.
“Right...” Melanie stood up, grabbing her silk robe off the bed, slipping it over her shoulders before joining him at the open door. Small glide lizards were flying low over the back gardens, hunting for insects. Rolas looked out over them with his beautiful amber eyes, not even turning to face her as she slipped an arm around his waist. “What’s the matter?” she prompted.
“Nothing,” he replied.
“Which is why you’re not looking at me, and talking only in monosyllables.” She poked at his chest lightly with one finger claw. “What’s wrong, Rolas?”
Rolas finally turned his head to face her, his expression grim. Well he was always grim, or glum, or gloomy. Except when she could jolly him out of it and make him smile and laugh. Melanie thought she’d been getting rather good at it. Recently, not so much.
“I was thinking about Salli, and Ali, and you, or rather your old persona,” he said.
“Ah,” she replied, tensing up. That was a sore point to be sure. Several points actually. Rather like a caltrop you might step on expectedly, to pierce your footpad and cause you to fall.
Salli was Rolas’ sister, a survivor of a rare case of foxen domestic abuse at the claws of her ex, and now very much dead, husband. She’d escaped that horror and eventually achieved a reasonably steady grip on her post traumatic stress, with the aid of therapy, medication, and the companionship of her bodyguard, a vixen named Alinadar.
The two of them had recently been betrothed as a matter of fact, after Ali had recovered from a recent injury. Melanie had been pleased by that development, not the least reason being that Ali had once been Melanie’s bodyguard, back in the days when she’d also been known as the Red Vixen, Scourge of the Spaceways ™. A persona she had since abandoned, trading the thrill and profit of piracy for more domestic concerns. A fine exchange, she figured. Well, most of the time.
“They’ve been doing rather well together,” Rolas went on. “I think they compliment each other. Ali provides Salli with a very physical reassurance of her safety. Salli gives Ali the emotional stability the younger vixen needs so desperately.” Melanie let herself relax slightly. If Rolas wanted to talk about how well Salli and Ali were getting along, that was fine by her.
“That doesn’t change the fact that Ali’s problems were exacerbated by you completely failing to get her the help she needed when you found her,” Rolas finished, his voice’s normal warm baritone chilling several degrees.
“I already apologized for that, Rolas. Several times,” Melanie said.
“You enslaved her,” he said flatly.
“She was sixteen and out of her mind,” Melanie protested. “You didn't see how feral she was back then. Ali's life with Bloody Margo had driven her insane. I had only been pirating in my Red Vixen persona for two years at that point. I didn't want to drop her off, back on Foxen Prime, to spend the rest of her life in an insane asylum!”
“So putting a collar and leash around her neck was the best solution you could think of?”
“At the time, yes. It was like an indenture, and don't tell me Darktail Domain doesn't have any of those.”
“Indentures are either mutually agreed upon, as a contract between a Lord and their Commoner subject, or applied as a means of assuring restitution after a Commoner is convicted of a criminal act,” Rolas pointed out. “They are not imposed upon innocents out of convenience.”
Melanie rubbed her ears in frustration. “I can't undo what I did, any more than Ali can! What do you want out of me, Rolas?”
“I want to be able to trust you again,” Rolas said. “When I asked you to marry me, I didn't understand you, or why piracy was such a thrill to you. But I thought I could trust you.”
She was starting to get a sick feeling in her stomach. “You can! I'm your wife!” Surely he couldn't possibly be thinking of…
“Can I?” he asked, his tone still cool, clinical. Too clinical. He'd been thinking about this for a long time she judged. When he was flying off the handle she knew he was just letting off steam. This was different. Like when she'd first met him, after capturing his family's merchant vessel, when all of his family's problems were chewing away at his soul.
“I love you, but do you love me? Will you merely drop me when the smell of profit in the air overwhelms you again?”
“I would never do that, Rolas,” she whispered fiercely. “I will honor my oaths to you, as I know you will honor yours.”
“I hear the words, but I don't know whether to believe you anymore,” he said, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “I want to believe you though.”
“How can I prove myself to you then?” she asked, her tail curling up in distress.
“Come away with me. A vacation. You and I. Where we can be alone, and I can get to know you again. No distractions, no demands.”
“That… that would work I suppose.” Yes, off this colony world, to some lovely resort with beautiful views, no demands on their time, and a bar with plenty drinks with those little paper umbrellas with the fruit on the ends. That would be perfect to remind Rolas why he loved her, or at least distract him long enough from worrying about his stiff tailed sister and her lover. “Where would you like to go?” Melanie asked.
For the first time this morning, Rolas smiled. “Let that be my surprise.”
* * *
They had one last dinner to get through before Rolas was going to whisk her away to whatever vacation spot he’d scouted out, however. Besides Rolas and herself there was Rolas’ twin sister, Lady Sallivera, as nearly as tall as her brother, looking spare and severe in her usual blue dress, though she was finally using the camouflage again on her artificial eye, so it looked natural instead of an unblinking black lense. Beside Salli sat her betrothed, Alinadar. Ali was a head shorter than Salli, her recent cellular regeneration leaving her looking even younger than usual, her normally strong and fit body now about as thin as Salli’s. Nevertheless there was an ease in her posture that hadn’t been there when she had been under Melanie’s command in her former Red Vixen persona. Good.
The final person at the table was Commander Lu Blacksailor of the Stellar Patrol, Ali’s elder brother, and the only surviving member of her immediate family, her parents, sister, and grandmother being murdered by the same pirates who kidnapped Ali and warped her into the life a child soldier, only to be freed when Melanie had captured her some ten years later. And why don’t I ever get any credit for that? Melanie thought bitterly. Blacksailor had only recently found Ali, the latter thinking her whole family had been wiped out. A nice enough fellow, even if he was with the Patrol.
Now, now, Melanie chided herself. I’m a retired pirate. No need to worry about the Patrol tracking me down these days.
“Is there someone else coming?” Rolas asked as they sat down, gesturing to an empty near the head of the table by Salli.
Salli smiled. “Yes. Commander Blacksailor’s replacement for Greenholme’s Stellar Patrol office. His singleship just arrived this afternoon.”
“He messaged me a few moments ago,” Commander Blacksailor added. “Needs to finish up a com call with our Sector Commodore about siting a dedication Patrol station in orbit, then he’ll be right over.”
“Surely it’s too early for that,” Rolas said, ears perking up in curiosity. “The colony has been under construction for barely two years.”
“Oh, all the signs show that this place is going to be a major destination point in this area of space,” Blacksailor said. “That resort company that leased Continent Three’s beaches is going to be a big concern here in a decade or so. Best to get ahead of things and have the Patrol ready to monitor the influx of traffic, rather than scramble for funding later.”
“I’ll have to bring our Foxen Navy up to speed on that news,” Salli noted. “They’ve been rather slower to establish a dedicated office here, though they’re maintaining our orbital destroyer coverage.”
The first course, a salad featuring several of the local plant species that had been proven safe and edible for foxen digestion, was being served, when mansion’s majordomo opened the dining room doors personally to announce, “Commander Cannonloader of the Alliance Stellar Patrol.”
“Cannonloader?” Melanie heard Rolas mutter, his ears twitching in surprise. “It couldn’t be…”
Striding through the doors was a red furred, broad shouldered foxen male, almost as tall as Rolas and about as heavily muscled, judging from the tight fit of his Patrol uniform, which like Blacksailor’s was black with silver piping, a bright silver sunburst over his right breast. He smiled broadly, bowing in Salli’s direction and stating, “Good evening, Lady Darktail.” Then he turned toward Rolas and his smile grew even wider. “Hullo there, Rollie. Bet you weren’t expecting me!”
“Dak?,” Rolas choked, nearly dropping his salad fork.
Melanie watched in fascination at her husband’s expression. When Cannonloader had first entered, Rolas’ jaw had flopped open and his ears went flat on his head, in deep and obvious shock. Now Rolas’ ears were turning bright red, and she could see the play of muscles along his jaw and throat, as he seemed to fight the urge to turn away in embarrassment.
“The one and the same.” Cannonloader chuckled. “I transferred my commission from the Foxen Navy to the Patrol about four years ago. I did tell you, but you never responded to my email.”
“I was… somewhat distracted at that time.” In fact that would have been about when Salli’s ex-husband was being prosecuted and confined for his abuse of Salli, and the start of his mother’s vendetta against House Darktail for the affront. Distracted was putting it mildly.
“So I gathered, once everything went public with your family and your late countess,” Cannonloader said affably. “I do hope things are more stable now.”
“More stable indeed, Mother Goddess be praised. Commander Cannonloader, do sit down,” Salli said to him. As he sat, she turned and said, “Rolas, why don’t you introduce us to your friend?”
“Ah, of course,” he said, regaining his composure with an effort. “Dak, this is my wife, Lady Melanie, my sister the Governor General Lady Sallivera, Salli’s betrothed, Alinadar Blacksailor. Her brother Lu you’ve already met, of course. Salli, Ali, Melanie, this is Dakarius Cannonloader. We served together aboard the command cruiser Spring River, back when I was doing my mandatory three year Service tour. He was... is, a good friend.”
Melanie couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that last remark. Just how good a friend could he be, if you’re so embarrassed by his arrival? she wondered.
A snippet of conversation rose up from her memory, from an old discussion with Rolas about his love life, or lack thereof, during his youth. A few times, with a couple of my crewmates, was all that he’d said on the subject.
Oh. With an effort, she halted the smile rising on her lips. So, it turns out Salli isn’t the only bisexual in the family. At least you have good taste in partners it looks like.
Salli seemed to catch nuance as well, for she and Ali shared a glance and what appeared to be a quick paw squeeze under the table.
The rest of the dinner was conducted without further personal surprises, Cannonloader smoothly guiding the conversation into a discussion of his ideas for the promised orbital patrol station. Salli allowed her guest to express himself, no doubt taking notes as the energetic Patrol officer expressed himself. For his part Rolas was quiet, only offering commentary when requested, keeping his attention on his food.
After dinner, Cannonloader approached them both, as they were heading out to the memorial garden behind the mansion. “Hey there, Rollie! Wait a moment. You haven’t properly introduced me to your lady wife yet.”
“Didn’t I?” Rolas asked, coming out his distracted haze with difficulty. “I thought I had at the dinner table.”
“That hardly counts!” Dak bowed over Melanie’s paw, saying formally, “Commander Dakarius Cannonloader, at your service, Lady Melanie.” She felt Rolas’ grip on her arm tighten at the gesture. Jealous now?
“A pleasure, Commander Cannonloader. So nice to make your acquaintance,” she replied smoothly.
He grinned at them both. “Looks like you’ve caught yourself a wonderful lady, Rollie. You should have invited me to your wedding.”
“I…” Rolas ducked his head briefly in evident embarrassment. “You’re right, Dak. I should have. I’m sorry.”
“Rollie, don't’ get all mulish on me. My ship was on patrol during your wedding anyway.” Cannonloader’s smile and tone softened. “You’ve found someone to spend your life with finally. You really thought I would be jealous of your happiness?”
Rolas stuck a smile on his face that was so painfully false it was all Melanie could do not to wince. “Thank you, Dak,” he said.
Cannonloader turned back to Melanie. “You watch out for this one, Lady Mel. He gets in these deep, gloomy moods over something or another, and it can take days to jolly him out of it. Be patient with him.”
“Oh, I know. Thank you, Dak. I do hope I’ll have a chance to talk to you before we have to leave for home.” Preferably in private. She felt a strong need to sit down with Dak and interrogate him on just what was Rolas like on their cruiser. This was certainly a side of her husband she’d been previously unaware of, though she should have seen it, especially after Salli had finally hooked up with Ali. Sexural orientation almost always had at least a minor genetic component after all.
“Sorry about that,” Rolas muttered, after Cannonloader had bid them goodnight.
“For what?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Dak… he’s a good fellow, but… loud.”
“As opposed to mulish and moody, yes,” Melanie noted. “I’m amazed that you hooked up with him. Though he is quite a charmer.”
“I did not hook up with him,” Rolas growled, sitting down on a bench in the garden. Around them, the nocturnal glide lizards were whistling to each other in the star lit darkness, as they flitted from tree to tree hunting their prey.
“Made love to? Had sex with?” she prompted, settling beside him. After a moment she ventured, “Fucked?”
“Bah! I knew you’d make a joke out of this,” he growled again, frowning, his ears flat with, if not anger, definitely embarrassment.
“I’m not joking, I’m trying to understand, Rolas,” Melanie said with exasperation. “You say you don’t understand me. Well, the feeling is mutual right now. You’re acting like being bisexual is some great scandal. Why? You’re part of five percent of the foxen population. Seven, if you count the Blended.”
“I am not bisexual,” Rolas snapped.
“Of course not, Rolas,” she said agreeably. “You just had relations with both males and vixens.”
Rolas stood up abruptly, turning away from her. “I don’t wish to discuss this.”
“Why not?” she demanded. “What harm does it do?”
He turned back towards her. “Dak is my past. You are my future. You’re the only one I wish to talk about.”
Yes, that’s part of the problem, she thought, but decided not to pursue the matter. For now. “As you wish, Rolas.”
PG-13 for a couple of F-bombs, domestic drama, and discussion of character sexualities.
“So I was thinking that once we get back home to Foxen Prime we can go over the quarterly earnings report for the plantation on Nagrim, then later you and I could…” Melanie paused, looking at her husband Rolas’ back from her perch at the edge of the bed. Normally this was an enjoyable exercise, especially in the morning, while he was still undressed and allowing her a fine view of his well-muscled shoulders. The definition was visible even under the tall foxen male’s dark brown pelt, his black tail waving over his ass cheeks.
“Rolas, are you even listening to me?” she prompted.
“Mm, yes dear,” he murmured, still looking out the open glass doors to the morning dawn rising over distant trees. They current digs were in the guest suite of the newly rebuilt Governor's Mansion on Greenholme, a House Darktail’s colony. Until a week ago Rolas had been its temporary governor general, while his sister attended to matters political and personal back on the homeworld. They had expected Rolas’ temporary assignment to be no more than six weeks, but complications had set in, to put it mildly, and Melanie had found herself stuck on this backward colony for over fourteen bloody months.
Melanie blinked her eyes at him, switching her adaptive contact lenses from blue to green-gold, then took a brush from the table with her black paw and ran it through her thick red tail fur, then over the splash of white fur at her neck and cleavage, as she continued, “So as I was saying, I was thinking after that we can have a meeting with Miss Hewitt. She’s the rep for that human consortium that wants to create a consolidated shipping line with my company, all the way to Earth.”
“Yes, dear.”
She paused for a moment, then asked, “Are you really listening?”
“Yes, dear.”
“So I assume you’re all right with me setting your tail on fire, yes?”
“Yes, of course,” he said, his neutral tone not changing a bit.
“Right...” Melanie stood up, grabbing her silk robe off the bed, slipping it over her shoulders before joining him at the open door. Small glide lizards were flying low over the back gardens, hunting for insects. Rolas looked out over them with his beautiful amber eyes, not even turning to face her as she slipped an arm around his waist. “What’s the matter?” she prompted.
“Nothing,” he replied.
“Which is why you’re not looking at me, and talking only in monosyllables.” She poked at his chest lightly with one finger claw. “What’s wrong, Rolas?”
Rolas finally turned his head to face her, his expression grim. Well he was always grim, or glum, or gloomy. Except when she could jolly him out of it and make him smile and laugh. Melanie thought she’d been getting rather good at it. Recently, not so much.
“I was thinking about Salli, and Ali, and you, or rather your old persona,” he said.
“Ah,” she replied, tensing up. That was a sore point to be sure. Several points actually. Rather like a caltrop you might step on expectedly, to pierce your footpad and cause you to fall.
Salli was Rolas’ sister, a survivor of a rare case of foxen domestic abuse at the claws of her ex, and now very much dead, husband. She’d escaped that horror and eventually achieved a reasonably steady grip on her post traumatic stress, with the aid of therapy, medication, and the companionship of her bodyguard, a vixen named Alinadar.
The two of them had recently been betrothed as a matter of fact, after Ali had recovered from a recent injury. Melanie had been pleased by that development, not the least reason being that Ali had once been Melanie’s bodyguard, back in the days when she’d also been known as the Red Vixen, Scourge of the Spaceways ™. A persona she had since abandoned, trading the thrill and profit of piracy for more domestic concerns. A fine exchange, she figured. Well, most of the time.
“They’ve been doing rather well together,” Rolas went on. “I think they compliment each other. Ali provides Salli with a very physical reassurance of her safety. Salli gives Ali the emotional stability the younger vixen needs so desperately.” Melanie let herself relax slightly. If Rolas wanted to talk about how well Salli and Ali were getting along, that was fine by her.
“That doesn’t change the fact that Ali’s problems were exacerbated by you completely failing to get her the help she needed when you found her,” Rolas finished, his voice’s normal warm baritone chilling several degrees.
“I already apologized for that, Rolas. Several times,” Melanie said.
“You enslaved her,” he said flatly.
“She was sixteen and out of her mind,” Melanie protested. “You didn't see how feral she was back then. Ali's life with Bloody Margo had driven her insane. I had only been pirating in my Red Vixen persona for two years at that point. I didn't want to drop her off, back on Foxen Prime, to spend the rest of her life in an insane asylum!”
“So putting a collar and leash around her neck was the best solution you could think of?”
“At the time, yes. It was like an indenture, and don't tell me Darktail Domain doesn't have any of those.”
“Indentures are either mutually agreed upon, as a contract between a Lord and their Commoner subject, or applied as a means of assuring restitution after a Commoner is convicted of a criminal act,” Rolas pointed out. “They are not imposed upon innocents out of convenience.”
Melanie rubbed her ears in frustration. “I can't undo what I did, any more than Ali can! What do you want out of me, Rolas?”
“I want to be able to trust you again,” Rolas said. “When I asked you to marry me, I didn't understand you, or why piracy was such a thrill to you. But I thought I could trust you.”
She was starting to get a sick feeling in her stomach. “You can! I'm your wife!” Surely he couldn't possibly be thinking of…
“Can I?” he asked, his tone still cool, clinical. Too clinical. He'd been thinking about this for a long time she judged. When he was flying off the handle she knew he was just letting off steam. This was different. Like when she'd first met him, after capturing his family's merchant vessel, when all of his family's problems were chewing away at his soul.
“I love you, but do you love me? Will you merely drop me when the smell of profit in the air overwhelms you again?”
“I would never do that, Rolas,” she whispered fiercely. “I will honor my oaths to you, as I know you will honor yours.”
“I hear the words, but I don't know whether to believe you anymore,” he said, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “I want to believe you though.”
“How can I prove myself to you then?” she asked, her tail curling up in distress.
“Come away with me. A vacation. You and I. Where we can be alone, and I can get to know you again. No distractions, no demands.”
“That… that would work I suppose.” Yes, off this colony world, to some lovely resort with beautiful views, no demands on their time, and a bar with plenty drinks with those little paper umbrellas with the fruit on the ends. That would be perfect to remind Rolas why he loved her, or at least distract him long enough from worrying about his stiff tailed sister and her lover. “Where would you like to go?” Melanie asked.
For the first time this morning, Rolas smiled. “Let that be my surprise.”
* * *
They had one last dinner to get through before Rolas was going to whisk her away to whatever vacation spot he’d scouted out, however. Besides Rolas and herself there was Rolas’ twin sister, Lady Sallivera, as nearly as tall as her brother, looking spare and severe in her usual blue dress, though she was finally using the camouflage again on her artificial eye, so it looked natural instead of an unblinking black lense. Beside Salli sat her betrothed, Alinadar. Ali was a head shorter than Salli, her recent cellular regeneration leaving her looking even younger than usual, her normally strong and fit body now about as thin as Salli’s. Nevertheless there was an ease in her posture that hadn’t been there when she had been under Melanie’s command in her former Red Vixen persona. Good.
The final person at the table was Commander Lu Blacksailor of the Stellar Patrol, Ali’s elder brother, and the only surviving member of her immediate family, her parents, sister, and grandmother being murdered by the same pirates who kidnapped Ali and warped her into the life a child soldier, only to be freed when Melanie had captured her some ten years later. And why don’t I ever get any credit for that? Melanie thought bitterly. Blacksailor had only recently found Ali, the latter thinking her whole family had been wiped out. A nice enough fellow, even if he was with the Patrol.
Now, now, Melanie chided herself. I’m a retired pirate. No need to worry about the Patrol tracking me down these days.
“Is there someone else coming?” Rolas asked as they sat down, gesturing to an empty near the head of the table by Salli.
Salli smiled. “Yes. Commander Blacksailor’s replacement for Greenholme’s Stellar Patrol office. His singleship just arrived this afternoon.”
“He messaged me a few moments ago,” Commander Blacksailor added. “Needs to finish up a com call with our Sector Commodore about siting a dedication Patrol station in orbit, then he’ll be right over.”
“Surely it’s too early for that,” Rolas said, ears perking up in curiosity. “The colony has been under construction for barely two years.”
“Oh, all the signs show that this place is going to be a major destination point in this area of space,” Blacksailor said. “That resort company that leased Continent Three’s beaches is going to be a big concern here in a decade or so. Best to get ahead of things and have the Patrol ready to monitor the influx of traffic, rather than scramble for funding later.”
“I’ll have to bring our Foxen Navy up to speed on that news,” Salli noted. “They’ve been rather slower to establish a dedicated office here, though they’re maintaining our orbital destroyer coverage.”
The first course, a salad featuring several of the local plant species that had been proven safe and edible for foxen digestion, was being served, when mansion’s majordomo opened the dining room doors personally to announce, “Commander Cannonloader of the Alliance Stellar Patrol.”
“Cannonloader?” Melanie heard Rolas mutter, his ears twitching in surprise. “It couldn’t be…”
Striding through the doors was a red furred, broad shouldered foxen male, almost as tall as Rolas and about as heavily muscled, judging from the tight fit of his Patrol uniform, which like Blacksailor’s was black with silver piping, a bright silver sunburst over his right breast. He smiled broadly, bowing in Salli’s direction and stating, “Good evening, Lady Darktail.” Then he turned toward Rolas and his smile grew even wider. “Hullo there, Rollie. Bet you weren’t expecting me!”
“Dak?,” Rolas choked, nearly dropping his salad fork.
Melanie watched in fascination at her husband’s expression. When Cannonloader had first entered, Rolas’ jaw had flopped open and his ears went flat on his head, in deep and obvious shock. Now Rolas’ ears were turning bright red, and she could see the play of muscles along his jaw and throat, as he seemed to fight the urge to turn away in embarrassment.
“The one and the same.” Cannonloader chuckled. “I transferred my commission from the Foxen Navy to the Patrol about four years ago. I did tell you, but you never responded to my email.”
“I was… somewhat distracted at that time.” In fact that would have been about when Salli’s ex-husband was being prosecuted and confined for his abuse of Salli, and the start of his mother’s vendetta against House Darktail for the affront. Distracted was putting it mildly.
“So I gathered, once everything went public with your family and your late countess,” Cannonloader said affably. “I do hope things are more stable now.”
“More stable indeed, Mother Goddess be praised. Commander Cannonloader, do sit down,” Salli said to him. As he sat, she turned and said, “Rolas, why don’t you introduce us to your friend?”
“Ah, of course,” he said, regaining his composure with an effort. “Dak, this is my wife, Lady Melanie, my sister the Governor General Lady Sallivera, Salli’s betrothed, Alinadar Blacksailor. Her brother Lu you’ve already met, of course. Salli, Ali, Melanie, this is Dakarius Cannonloader. We served together aboard the command cruiser Spring River, back when I was doing my mandatory three year Service tour. He was... is, a good friend.”
Melanie couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that last remark. Just how good a friend could he be, if you’re so embarrassed by his arrival? she wondered.
A snippet of conversation rose up from her memory, from an old discussion with Rolas about his love life, or lack thereof, during his youth. A few times, with a couple of my crewmates, was all that he’d said on the subject.
Oh. With an effort, she halted the smile rising on her lips. So, it turns out Salli isn’t the only bisexual in the family. At least you have good taste in partners it looks like.
Salli seemed to catch nuance as well, for she and Ali shared a glance and what appeared to be a quick paw squeeze under the table.
The rest of the dinner was conducted without further personal surprises, Cannonloader smoothly guiding the conversation into a discussion of his ideas for the promised orbital patrol station. Salli allowed her guest to express himself, no doubt taking notes as the energetic Patrol officer expressed himself. For his part Rolas was quiet, only offering commentary when requested, keeping his attention on his food.
After dinner, Cannonloader approached them both, as they were heading out to the memorial garden behind the mansion. “Hey there, Rollie! Wait a moment. You haven’t properly introduced me to your lady wife yet.”
“Didn’t I?” Rolas asked, coming out his distracted haze with difficulty. “I thought I had at the dinner table.”
“That hardly counts!” Dak bowed over Melanie’s paw, saying formally, “Commander Dakarius Cannonloader, at your service, Lady Melanie.” She felt Rolas’ grip on her arm tighten at the gesture. Jealous now?
“A pleasure, Commander Cannonloader. So nice to make your acquaintance,” she replied smoothly.
He grinned at them both. “Looks like you’ve caught yourself a wonderful lady, Rollie. You should have invited me to your wedding.”
“I…” Rolas ducked his head briefly in evident embarrassment. “You’re right, Dak. I should have. I’m sorry.”
“Rollie, don't’ get all mulish on me. My ship was on patrol during your wedding anyway.” Cannonloader’s smile and tone softened. “You’ve found someone to spend your life with finally. You really thought I would be jealous of your happiness?”
Rolas stuck a smile on his face that was so painfully false it was all Melanie could do not to wince. “Thank you, Dak,” he said.
Cannonloader turned back to Melanie. “You watch out for this one, Lady Mel. He gets in these deep, gloomy moods over something or another, and it can take days to jolly him out of it. Be patient with him.”
“Oh, I know. Thank you, Dak. I do hope I’ll have a chance to talk to you before we have to leave for home.” Preferably in private. She felt a strong need to sit down with Dak and interrogate him on just what was Rolas like on their cruiser. This was certainly a side of her husband she’d been previously unaware of, though she should have seen it, especially after Salli had finally hooked up with Ali. Sexural orientation almost always had at least a minor genetic component after all.
“Sorry about that,” Rolas muttered, after Cannonloader had bid them goodnight.
“For what?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Dak… he’s a good fellow, but… loud.”
“As opposed to mulish and moody, yes,” Melanie noted. “I’m amazed that you hooked up with him. Though he is quite a charmer.”
“I did not hook up with him,” Rolas growled, sitting down on a bench in the garden. Around them, the nocturnal glide lizards were whistling to each other in the star lit darkness, as they flitted from tree to tree hunting their prey.
“Made love to? Had sex with?” she prompted, settling beside him. After a moment she ventured, “Fucked?”
“Bah! I knew you’d make a joke out of this,” he growled again, frowning, his ears flat with, if not anger, definitely embarrassment.
“I’m not joking, I’m trying to understand, Rolas,” Melanie said with exasperation. “You say you don’t understand me. Well, the feeling is mutual right now. You’re acting like being bisexual is some great scandal. Why? You’re part of five percent of the foxen population. Seven, if you count the Blended.”
“I am not bisexual,” Rolas snapped.
“Of course not, Rolas,” she said agreeably. “You just had relations with both males and vixens.”
Rolas stood up abruptly, turning away from her. “I don’t wish to discuss this.”
“Why not?” she demanded. “What harm does it do?”
He turned back towards her. “Dak is my past. You are my future. You’re the only one I wish to talk about.”
Yes, that’s part of the problem, she thought, but decided not to pursue the matter. For now. “As you wish, Rolas.”
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no subject
Date: 2016-06-28 12:10 am (UTC)Some kind of Ardalian slave colony or something?
no subject
Date: 2016-06-28 12:42 am (UTC)