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Year of Jade - 512
Nidia - Asgard Sector, Capital of YggdrasilWaking to the sound of breaking glass is quite irksome. The new maids, a slew of lowborn dragonewts, seem to be keen on proving their only use is destruction of property. Mother calls it ‘learning the ropes’, but they’ve been here for months and still fail to even hold their balance properly! Under what fool’s instruction were they taught? One can only hope they are at least proficient at sweeping.It escapes me why mother insists on using these ridiculously inefficient dragonewt fools as servants. Creases on my ball gown, nicked lace on a summer dress, even a scratch on my precious helmet! A sewer rat with even the bare minimum education wouldn’t dare commit such atrocities against me! Yet another to add onto my list of whipping. Some days, it almost feels like they take delight in me swatting them–even arching into my whip strikes on occasion. Pleasurable isn’t quite the word I would use, but stopping at this point seems silly, as it has become a near daily routine for me.One of the little fools knocks on my doors. “Come in, and make it quick.” I swallow back flames as she rushes in and drops to the floor in a kneel.“Your Majesty, we must ready you for the emergency meeting.”I let out a deep groan, placing my right palm to my head. “I’ve just woken up, and now I’m expected to attend some meeting? Did mother call for it?”“No, your Majesty. The royal consultant has found information warranting your presence, though one as lowly as me isn’t privy to any details.” Her muted dark green scaled tail quivers, presumably from fear.“If he wasn’t as proven as he now is, I would have his head for ruining my morning more than it already has been. Fetch the other maids and dress me for this silly thing.” Stretching out an ache in my back, I sweep my covers off with my tail and step into my slippers.“As you wish, your Majesty. May I call them in from the halls now?”“You may.” I flash her a light grin, a little reward for the lessers who please me.They trail in one after the other, all wearing identical uniforms and with a similar muted dark green coloring to their scales. A well-decorated suit, mainly deep blue and cream, is chosen for the occasion. Silver and platinum pins of my war exploits line each collar, tail scales polished to the point of obsession, my claws painted a chromatic silver with jade rings of varying design on each finger and toe. My tiara, a masterpiece crafted from dwarven steel with jewels inlaid to resemble purple flames, is finally set upon my head.One of the maids shyly steps forward. “Is it to your liking, your Majesty?”“You’re new, correct?”She nods, tears beginning to bead in her eyes.“You’re now one of my personal maids. Take the lead in dressing me for occasions from now on. Also, bring me the one who woke me with broken glass.”The group shoves forward a disheveled looking maid, one quite small and meek. Is mother hiring children now?I slap her hard across the face, my claws catching her chin. “You will learn your job, or you will die squealing underfoot. Understood?” She nods, eyes cast toward the floor. “Good. Now get up, and come along. Tending to me after the meeting will be your only chance at redemption.”Duties as heir bore me, Asgardian politics and law a drivel no different from the ramblings of lesser ones. We sit around a table, one shaped like an egg. An interesting choice in style, I must say. I have half a mind to beat the nearby maid out of sheer boredom, but the thought slips away when I’m called upon.“What is your opinion, your Highness?” Royal consultant Ossian speaks to me, confident as ever.It’s cute enough, about 3 meters in size with deep emerald scales, a business suit providing it with quite the professional appearance. Its eyes look like droplets of amazonite, a steely gaze fixed on me. Eye candy at best, but I’m happy to have it around. Smart, too.“In what regard?”“Destroying Midgard, your Grace.”Quite the extreme thing to say so casually. “The bipedal fleshbag stomping grounds? Whatever for? They have amusing structures, and it's quite fun picking them off here and there.”“Your Highness,” It fixes its glasses, a quirk only demonstrated when it is very nervous. “There is a problem we must bring to your attention regarding that.”“What might that problem be? Surely you know that of all in this room, you are permitted to speak quite freely?” Crossing my legs, I fold my arms and await my answer.“Well, you see,” It gulps loudly. “Your soon to be born niece, lady Astrid, her egg was stolen as of this morning.”Perhaps it had a slip of tongue. “What? Surely you jest.”“It happened 6 hours ago, a lapse in security providing the thief mere minutes to enter her chambers.”Heat rises from me, causing the rather large room to become stuffy. My arm grips are ground to dust, my maid begging me to not explode. Too late. A guttural roar rips from my throat, purple flames following shortly. A massive hole is blown in the ceiling, flames blooming on everything they touch. My niece? My sweet Astrid? Who would dare? Sun rays shine down from the hole I just blasted in the building, the warmth bringing me just enough sanity to not turn on Ossian when it approaches me.Residual flames drip from my maw. “Location, now. If you wish to live past today, you will tell me now!” The former walls continue to melt around us, the other members slowly rising from their cowering positions on the floor.It kneels before me, a grimace of pain briefly on its face. “As you command. We have tracked them to Svartalfheim, in a tiny smithing village on the outskirts. Shall I send an advance team, your Highness?”“That won’t be necessary. Prepare Ingrid.”The room erupts in debate, endorsements and objections being thrown left and right.“Your Highness, might we ask you to reconsider? You are a person of great importance, and it would be a disaster if something were to happen to you…” Prime minister Ava is a sad looking thing, an older dragon with scales the shade of steel. I nearly pity her.“You hold your opinions quite highly, prime minister. Almost as if you find me a fool in comparison.” Ignorant fools should stay quiet.Her eyes widen in fear, a tiny hiccup escaping from her. “I would never, your Grace!”“Then keep your pointless concerns to yourself.” I take a calming breath. “She is the strongest in the land, and I myself am a proven and accomplished pilot. What more is there to say?” I don’t even give her the dignity of eye contact, the old bitty.“But your Highness, what of the throne? To whom will we look to for council?”“You old fools have sat with your tails between your legs for centuries! What benefit of mine is it to listen to your… ramblings? To your old and reused excuses for fear? Know yourself, and your place.”She nods, opting to glare in my general direction instead. I’ll have to take note of this slight.“Good. Now, let us end the meeting here. I haven’t the time to waste here any longer.”I jump up through the still burning hole, reverting to my natural form. Claws that have sundered castle walls, emerald scaled trailing down my huge body, 4 horns adorning my head—a form superior to my more humanoid one in every right. The landing bay is a mere 4km away, hardly a morning glide. Time to go save her.Mobile suit bay A-1 is bustling with activity when I arrive. Ossian must have told them ahead of time that I was coming.I transform back a few dozen meters up and slam down on the landing strip.These clothes that change with you truly are conveniences I regularly find appreciation for.“Your Majesty!” A larger rugged-looking dragonewt rushes over, arms and face glistening with sweat. “I greatly apologize for my unruly presentation, as I was immersed in a project regarding lady Ingrid…”“It’s of no concern. Tell the crew to wake her; I’m taking her for a bit of a stroll.” Perhaps I’ll take this newt as my own later…“As you command, your Majesty. Our crew will prepare an escort immediately.” She bows deeply, hands folded neatly before her.“Very well. Take care in only preparing the best.” Heat rises from me again. “This must end quickly, and I will not tolerate incompetence.”“Only the best of the best will be chosen, as per your Majesty’s command. I will excuse myself to prepare.” She bows again, quickly runs out of sight at a wave of my hand.A true work of art, Ingrid stares down at my now comparatively miniscule humanoid body. 75 meters of machinery that’s bigger than my true form, silver and emerald body armor adorns her, serrated claws made of a hardened steel, plated wings with detachable feather swarm drones, and photon laser cannons tucked away under various nesting plating. I opt to pilot in my smaller form; she finds it to be more comfortable.My crew brings a lift for me, but I’ve already flown to the cockpit—any delays only endangers my niece further. She opens her hatch for me, priming her reactors as I buckle in and get ready to sync. I flip a switch on the seat, and our minds meld together once more. It’s a peculiar feeling, truly becoming one with another. Everything feels at peace, nothing even slightly out of place. This body is my own—our own.“Ready to launch?” Ingrid speaks over the intercom. “You seem nervous… did something happen?”I also speak over the intercom. “They took Astrid. I must slaughter those lowly driveling fools!”“Oooooh shit. Shit! Where did they last track her to?”“Some sort of indescript village in Dwarflandia.” We continue launch sequences, reactors fully online.“I’m not committing a genocide over this, I hope you know that.” Disappointment oozes from her voice.“If I wanted to raze the realm to the ground, you know I wouldn’t come to you. All I plan to do is find her egg, kill her captors, and come back home.” I take a calming breath. “No unnecessary blood will be on your hands, you have my word.”She doesn’t seem convinced. “And you’ll leave the innocents alone?”“As long as they remain innocents, yes.” The crew clears us for launch, vapor trails soon following behind.“Just, run things by me this time, okay? I can’t always read your mind, you know.”“Anything to make you happy, love.” Even if she wished for the sundering of a thousand galaxies.Niðavellir is about 276,000km due north of our current location, a flight that will last 92 hours at current pace. Not fast enough!“Ingrid, let’s push to 5000km/hr.”“Okay, but you need to be careful this time.”I ignore her warning, my anxieties slowly growing. “Pushing to 5000.” Our heat shield trips as we slice through the air.“Watch the cores, Mina.” She opens our auxiliary heat exhausts vents, steam bursting out behind.“Thanks. Deploying additional heat shield, pushing to 7500km/hr” My previous top speed while maintaining full control was 7150km/hr. Surely this won’t be much different?As if Ingrid predicted the future, we slowly begin rotating off course—a sudden updraft catching me off guard. Shit! I attempt to rebalance, stretching our wings out.“What the fuck did I tell you earlier? We’re losing altitude, and fast!”Letting out a nervous laugh, I brush her off yet again. “A little bit of faith would be quite motivational, no?” Flickering the reverse thrusters, we finally level our altitude nearly at the treeline.I let out a sigh of relief. “We’re still alive! I told you, just have a little faith!”Enraged, she began to hiss her words. “Fuck you, Mina. We could’ve gotten really hurt!” She almost forcefully desyncs me, anger nearing its peak. “How many times is it gonna take for you to just fucking listen to me?”“I’m sorry, it’s just… Astrid is…” I choke on my words, tears betraying my facade.“I want her to be okay too, alright? You just…” She takes a calming breath. “you can’t keep putting us in danger like that. Little Astrid would be furious with you if you crashed, right?”I sob for a brief moment, then quickly regain my composure. Tears make me feel weak. I mustn’t be weak for her. “I’ll… do better next time, love.”“Promise?”“On my scales.”“Good. Location is nearly in sight, about 30000km away—do we have clearance for landing?”A snicker leaves my speaker. “Were you aware of the wonderful little trinket I brought in last night? It does this thing called ‘cloaking’, and it can conceal even the physical form! Assuming you’re not moving, of course.”“We’re gonna die.” She reluctantly gives clearance to the device, our visual presence fading almost immediately.“Oh, cheer up! Besides, why would I request landing clearance when I’m trying to find an egg? As a royal? Who so happens to be crown princess?” My giggle resounds through the cockpit.“I hate you.” She huffs, trying to hide her enjoyment.“I love you too, sweetie.” Year of Jade - 512
Unnamed Town On The Northern Outskirts of SvartalfheimTransport should be here by now. That crazy bitch is bound to be on her way, possibly even here within the hour! Where are they, where are they…“Benny! Those goons are here, so get your ass over here now!” Sister Dasha barks orders at me, her gruff voice ripping me out of my stupid head.“Fuckin finally! I got the box here, so gimme a sec to get out there, yeah?” This cursed egg will finally be out of our hands.I rush out of my room, nearly bumping the box into the doorway. After dodging a few tables and a painting we made, the box finds its way into our seller’s hands at last. The group was quite odd—they whipped out a contract as proof of their legitimacy, refusing to exchange so much as a single word from start to finish. A flash of light, and they’re gone.“I would ask questions, but something tells me that we aren’t meant to know, and I do not want to know.” Dasha shakes her head.After two long hours drag by, a singular streak of purple and emerald comes into view, just past the southern border mountains. Whistling of wind could be heard, but just faintly. How is no one seeing this? All too late, I get a closer look. Wait a minute, is that… oh shit.I barely get out the first sound of warning when she, it, slammed down nearby our surface village walls. Ground giving in to the sheer force of impact, a rippling wind blasted out, blowing the roofs off of several nearby houses. Great.A royal—emerald scales glistening in the fading sunlight—emerges from the giant mobile suit after a few minutes. She glares down at us, emanating a sinister aura.“Where is the egg?” Her voice booms, rattling windows and causing ears to bleed. “Bring it to me, immediately!” Head tilted towards the sky, flames burst forth from her maw—a common intimidation tactic used by true dragons like her. “You have 20 minutes to bring it before I burn this filthy village to the ground!”My blood runs cold at her ultimatum. I just got rid of it! How the fuck are we gonna get out of this one?Sister Dasha rushes forward and kneels.“Speak, dwarf.” She practically snarls the word.“Crown Princess Wilhelmina, there was a group transporting a suspicious box about two hours ago. There was a bright flash of light, and they were nowhere to be seen.” She’s trembling, beads of sweat dripping from her chin.“And just where did they go?” Landing a few meters in front of us, the heat from her rage begins to singe our hairs.I drink in her ethereal form, burning her every detail into my mind. It takes Dasha whipping me with her tail before I catch myself, snapping my eyes to the ground.“Oh, and what do we have here? A dragonewt,” Her words spewed forth like poison. “and a tiny one at that. What do you have to say for your wandering eyes? Speak.”I’m fucked. “Your Majesty, I was foolish and gazed upon you without your blessing. Please punish me as you see fit.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!“Having good taste is no crime, newt. Tell me, have you any knowledge of the situation?”My mouth goes dry. “Indeed, your Majesty. If I may, I caught a glimpse of some blue light flashing. Perhaps they used a device of some sort?”“Your council is unneeded, newt.” Blue light could be the work of many things, so this only brings about more questions. “Tell me, was there anything else you noticed?”“Nothing of note, your Majesty.” We’re almost in the clear!“Interesting.”No one saw the feather detach from the mobile suit, nor did they expect them to crush the person right next to me—Sister Dasha’s left foot being the only bit left. A burning hand lunges toward me—clenching around my throat, my eyes failing to understand how they missed her movements.“Lying to a royal is treason, little newt. Our optics are quite adept, and we saw as you waved those thieving buffoons goodbye!” My neck scales begin to snap under her grip, air failing to enter my lungs as I struggle against her.She tosses me to the side, my every breath like knives and needles. Evil was birthed with this reptilian nightmare, and I find myself silently praying to any god that will listen for her painful death. If I had the strength…She snickers at the hatred in my eyes. “Still conscious enough to think of revenge? Such resilience will make for an excellent porter!” She lets out a small laugh. “Hate me all you like,” The heel of her boots finds purchase on my head. “but know that the lives of many rest on your actions.” Stomping her heel down swiftly, she lets out a truly blood-curdling cackle.My consciousness fades as she drags me back to her mobile suit, my mind replaying the smile Dasha wore when happy, the serene look she had when stargazing, the comfort of her embrace. My shining everything, my secret beloved, gone in an instant. I make a vow to make her pay, no matter what it may cost me. She must suffer, break, fade into nothingness before me, her eventual executioner. Year of Jade - 512
Dúrnir, Central City of Gnipahellir “Everyone is in a panic, and it’s all that blasted lizards fault! Who’s idea was it to not deal with her years ago again?” Brísingr slams the table, a trademark of hers at meetings. “Dragon-slaying technology is strictly forbidden! The last time we tried that, it was nothing but disaster! We almost lost the mines fighting them back!” Sigrid’s face is turning purple from distress. “Whether it’s forbidden or not isn’t even our main issue! The boss is the only one who can hammer long enough to make the fuckers, and ze is off picking zer ass in a garden or some shit! We are out of options!” Making one’s opinion heard at this table is a task, but it must be done or these fools will kill us all. “Ooooh! I think we got ourselves a little smartass here! Isn’t that right, Brokkr?” Brísingr sneers, a hobby of hers trying to debase my every word. “Brísingr, if you want to keep your arms, I suggest shutting the fuck up and hearing it out. Perhaps it has insight your teeny tiny pebble brain couldn’t possibly perceive?” Hugstari picks at her teeth with a tiny needle, feet kicked up on the table. Brísingr snarls. “I’ll smash your face in if you say that one more time!” Arguments continue, insult after meaningless insult hurled. Only one thing left to do, one way to gain control: flip the godsdamn table! I thank our grandparents for constructing this building with vaulted ceilings, seeing as I lifted the damn thing nearly 7 meters off the ground. “Solid oak doesn’t weigh what it used to… haha…” The table lands by the door, which is not at all close to where I meant to toss it. “Fucking oaf.” Hugstari is laying on the ground, her needle now stuck in her upper lip. Fuck, I like it when she looks at me like that. I shake my head, the topic nearly getting buried by thoughts of her beefy hands gripping my waist. “Table flipping. Classic.” Brísingr’s chin was caught by the table, a line of blood now trailing down her neck. “So are you gonna tell us what you have to say, or am I gonna have to beat it out? I know this shit was on purpose!” She cracks her knuckles. “There’s a provision,” Clearing my throat, I try to ignore the blatant threat. “that states we can propose a vote to overturn the law, given an emergency is at hand. I’m sure that there would be little fuss if we declared an emergency, on account of espionage, a hit-and-run, or something of the sort.” “Are you saying you can get the boss back here, back to us?” Sigrid shoots me a look of curiosity. Standing for effect, I say possibly the craziest words I’ve ever conceived in my life. “I can make the weapon myself.” Now I’ve done it! The room goes quiet, Except for one clueless bastard. “You? Make a legendary weapon?” Brísingr scoffs at the thought. “You managed to make a dagger that only cuts the wielder, you defect!” “Tell me, would you bleed from having that table smack you in that small head of yours? Insult my smithing skills once more, and I’ll smelt your hammer!” Aaaaaaand now I can never take this back. Fuck! “Brís, you gonna take that lying down?” Hugstari, the instigator that she is, chimes in as if it were her cue. “Hey needle face, why don’t you mind your own business?” Sigrid finally says something worthwhile. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself, bitch baby?” Hugstari starts to pout, lip out and everything. Sigrid goes in for the kill. “Why don’t you make me? I’m sure you’d love to watch, pervert.” “The only think I want to watch you do is shut your fucking trap!” The two get into their usual argument, me and Brísingr being unexpected allies in the situation. Gods, this is such a mess… how the hell am I gonna forge a legendary weapon? I have my work cut out for me. Year of Jade - 512
Wildlands of Niflheim The sins of my past sing ballads in my mind, odes to the many victims of imposed ill fate. The Eternal Blizzard rages still, chill writhing deep into my godly bones. I recently took to crafting automatons, a simple joy that perhaps will bear sentient fruit one day. Some have developed a semblance of a personality, little quirks they occasionally sprinkle in conversations. Perhaps a visit to the dwarves is in order… such things are known quite well among their more experienced numbers. Castle crafted from the finest ice crystals, a super structure made as a testament to my might. Hand-carved symbols line the outer walls, each a unique protection charm in case Ragnarok comes about once more. My fingertips dance along them, each glowing a faint blue, filling each one with my essence. An exemplary demonstration of my- “Hel, you better not be LARPing out in the fucking cold again! Breakfast is nearly ready, and I’m gonna be pissed off if this goes to waste!” Helena, my other half, throws an icicle at my head, drawing a close to my magnificent brooding session. I dodge easily. “Oi, shitlips! Who’s the queen around here, again?” I wag a numb finger at her. “I’ll have your hide for your snide comments, knave!” Giggles echo from the window she opened. “Doesn’t matter if you can’t catch meeee!” “You’ll eat those words!” We begin a wild game of hide-and-go-seek, which was mostly chasing. Hidden chambers, secret wings, shifting mirrors—it took nearly an hour before I had her pinned against a bedpost, her hiding place of choice having been a rarely visited guest room. “Gotcha.” My chest heaves from all the running. She looks into my eyes, hers a gorgeous bluish green. Her cheeks tinted a sparkly pink, a habit she picked up from her frequent Midgard visits. I lean in to give her a kiss, but she slips her hand out and wraps it around my throat. “Come to the bed, I must reward you for your victorious chase.” Mischief seeps into her expression, eyes taking on a certain glint to them I’ve always loved. “Yes, mistress.” I crawl after her, hoping she’ll whip me with her sleek indigo scaled tail. Divinity means nothing before my draconic mistress, a mere label ranking far below that of ‘pet’. Autonomy be damned, let her break and fix me as she sees fit. “Sit.” She slaps her tail on the ground, my signal to obey. The floor is cold black marble tile, a perfect place for a pet like me. “Give paw.” She raises the tip of her tail. I raise my left paw and place it in her stretched out hand. “Good girl!” A whimper of pleasure escapes my lips when she ruffles my hair and wraps her tail around my neck. “I’m gonna fuck you stupid, and you’re going to
take it like I tell you to. Got it, sweet girl?” I nod furiously, desperate to serve my mistress in any way possible. My mouth is her first target, an unwashed cock base deep in seconds, her tail tightly gripping my throat. Breathing is a privilege, and one must work for those. Tightening my lips around her, rough moans and grunts replace many of her words. She digs her claws into my hair, pulling me closer as she goes faster. “Good puppy, you don’t need to breathe. Eat my cock, slut.” I gag. “Who the fuck said you can gag?” She frees a hand to slap my ass hard. Fuck, this is my favorite part. “Take it like I told you to!” She thrust deep, giving me even less time to catch a breath. Fuck yes… “Are you arching your back?” She snickers. “You like that shit, huh?” I nod, moaning each time she spanks me. Climax comes far earlier than I expected, my mistress taking notice of this critical error of mine. “You just earned yourself five more minutes of full throat, pup. Is that what you wanted? To be used?” I nod, causing her to choke me harder with her tail. “Good girl. Open wide, its time for you to work for your second sip~” She slides her cock back down my throat, which I gratefully take to the base. “You better drink every drop of this, okay? Every drop missed is an hour in the cage.” The cage is nice, but I’m far too thirsty to waste any. She unravels her tail from around my throat, teases my tits on her way towards my thighs, and teases my pussy by rubbing my clit. “Your reward for being so good for me.” My eyes roll into the back of my head when she slides in and out of both of my holes. Pleasure triumphs over the pain of scales carving my insides to suit her, desire triumphs over my growing need to breathe, and lust led my fingers into her hole. She no longer speaks, focused only on fucking me as hard as she can, her claws lodged into my skull so I don’t go anywhere. My nose bruises from how hard she thrusts when finishing. She goes to pull out, but I grip her thighs and keep sucking. There has to be more… “I must’ve forgotten to fill your water bowl, pup.” She ruffles my hair. “I got another couple rounds in me, so looks like you’re working overtime!” I love it when we work overtime. She somehow manages to fuck me harder than previous rounds when I pout, a tactic I very much like to abuse when I can. We collapse after the final round, ending things off at five. It takes all my energy to roll over, my beloved laying fast asleep while I stare at her beautiful everything. Petra’s muscle-bound arms wrap around me, flexing slightly with my ever move—as if I were prey attempting an escape. I run my fingers over shoulder knots from working with dwarves, grazing my lips over scars from various accidents… kissing the scars is a favorite activity of mine. Despite their addition to her beauty, I silently wish to never find a new one. Each time another decorates her skin, a desire to maim those that bring her harm fills my mind. If only they would step into my domain… I silently curse Odin for confining me to my own domain. Petra pulls me in tight, as if she means to protect me even in her dreams. I decide that my struggles can matter at a later time, burying my face into her neck and breathing deeply. Sleep soon finds me, the safety of her embrace protecting me from the past I so wish to forget. I awake to neck kisses and a very welcomed cock in my ass. Arching into it, she growls and bites my neck, forcing my hole to fit every centimeter of her. Breed me. My moans grow louder, her claws dig into my tits. Use me like the toy I am. Rutting relentlessly, she grunts and whines trying to go deeper, trying to fuck harder. Tear me open. Blood trails down my shoulders and chest, my supple skin a canvas for her claws to paint on. Eat me alive. She carves her name onto my stomach, during which I came harder than I ever have before. Leave nothing behind. I pass out from blood loss as she finishes, a satisfied grin on her face the last thing I see. Please don’t forget me. Divinity comes with many perks, chief among them being regeneration. Simply put, my wife can butcher and dismember me to her heart's desire, and I get the pleasure of being butchered and dismembered. Truly a wonderful arrangement. She walks back into the room, almost as if she were waiting for this moment, with a tray of my favorite foods. An assortment of melons and berries laid into a floral pattern, an almost comically large biscuit with plenty of beef gravy on top, and freshly squeezed orange juice was set before me. I want to marry this woman again. “You made all this for me?” She sets the tray down on the bedside table. “Figured you might need the extra food, considering how busy we just got.” She looks to the side, clacking her claws together nervously. “Petra my love, do you have even the slightest idea how adorable you look right now? If I wasn't starving, I would have you for my meal instead.” Hiding her face in her hands, she sits down next to me on our bed. “You’re such a flirt… I’ll never understand how you manage to be so chipper after we have sex.” “That’s because you bring me life, my love. For you, I would do anything.” I pull her close to me, kissing the top of her head. “Besides, you did’t even cut any limbs off this time!” She lets out a hearty chuckle, one that always makes me fall for her all over again. “Then eat your breakfast, my Queen.” “Yes, my Queen.” We laugh in sync as she turns to grab the tray. After setting the tray down on my lap, she swats my hand away from the utensils and grabs the fork. “You must be tired if you can’t even grab hold of your fork, dear. Why don’t I feed you this time?” The most adorable evil grin spread across her face. “All you had to do was ask, silly.” “Yeah, yeah, open sesame.” The food is almost as delicious as the shy look on my wife’s face. Perhaps being stuck here with her isn’t too bad of a curse after all.