Headed by a Snake

After several bells, the two lovers realized they had neglected to break for lunch.

Tycondrius allowed Elle to clothe herself-- but only when the time for the evening meal grew near...

He was somewhat reluctant to do so.

In his current life, he'd enjoyed his fair share of sexual partners, each with varying levels of experience. However, he found that sharing Elle's company was... a great deal more satisfying.

It was a relationship sparked by fate.

Elle admired Tycon for one or more of his heroic qualities.

Tycon was enamored by the young woman's bravery and technical skill.

He was physically and intellectually attracted to her... and she to him.

Him pursuing Elle romantically was natural... and the few issues he could think of that might dissuade him were largely inconsequential.

She was a great deal younger than he was... which did have potential of being a future issue. She did seem mature for her age-- though that fact was somewhat of a cyclical fallacy.

...Concerning that, Tycon had a suspicion that Elle might have been *more* mature than he was. Earlier in the sun, she'd been insistent on reporting to her superiors. Tycon more-or-less bullied her out of her duty and into their private room.

The woman had self-confidence issues. In particular, she did not realize the rarity of her high affinity Divine Armor piloting. Also, for whatever reason, she thought her height unattractive.

Thankfully, her doubts weren't a dominant part of her demeanor. They were merely mundane worries, contrary to her actual skill and beauty.

Elle did not have claim to noble blood... or a name with any merits attached to it.

Of that, Tycon couldn't care less.

He had wealth, status, and connections enough.

If he were to flaunt any or all of those, he could summon a myriad of beauties to bed at his leisure. Even without doing so, he had enough female admirers of reasonable attractiveness.

If  he wished, it would be a simple task to trick, seduce, or coerce each of them into carrying out his wishes. For more than a few... he needed only to make the request.

Elle... was different.

Tycon trying to win her favor... was him seeking companionship.

Elle was a professional mercenary whose thoughts and actions weren't affected by the politics of his social circles. She was a woman who could... understand him.

Ultimately... Tycon would pursue Elle because he wanted to.

If his sister or noble peers were to challenge him, he'd defeat them with overwhelming personal power.

If his mother took issue... he'd... tactically withdraw and return with an army.

A very large army.

...one capable of leveling a moderately-defended city.

...and from a significant distance away.

Yet... not all love stories are without flaws.

There was one concern that Tycon found difficult to ignore.

He felt... a shared connection with Elle-- one he found difficult to explain.

If it weren't so illogical, he'd have guessed she was known by the previous-him... or she was a reincarnated lover from some past life.

Tycon cared for her.

He wanted to... protect her... to see her grow as a person and as an adventurer.

The most obvious explanation for the feeling was... that Tycon was deluded. In more flowery terms, he had recklessly fallen in love.

...It was also feasible that he was stricken by a mind-control effect stronger than Fourth-Circle.

​ As he had no realistic means to prevent the latter, that was a non-issue.

Tycon was also aware that he was, at heart, a paranoid cynic. That, however, would be a poor reason to self-sabotage his attempt at happiness.

Thus, despite his misgivings about being a serious relationship... they changed nothing.

He'd present his best self to Elle as a loyal, supportive, and interesting lover... and he would remain vigilant for if things were to go awry.

After dressing, the two made their way towards the eating hall.

The evening meal was standard fare, consisting of a creamy rabbit soup, pickled vegetables, and relatively fresh bread. Tycon ate with Elle in a secluded area of the fort's inner courtyard, where they conversed about nothing of particular importance interspersed with highly suggestive innuendos.

He was... somewhat ashamed by the amount of potable water his partner drank to quench her thirst.

Proper hydration was necessary when engaging in... extended sessions of strenuous activity. He'd been a poor host to not offer her any of the refreshments he had stored in his spatial ring.

"So, Tychon..." Elle mused... "let's say I *did* let you buy my contract."

"Hah!" Tycon took his woman's hand and stared into her eyes, "Are you regretful that I did not insist on doing so?"

"N-no--" She turned away... but did not take back her hand, "I-- um... that's not... what I meant."

"Did you wish for me to return to Januarius, half-dead in the infirmaries?" Tycon teased, "Can you imagine his face if I were to tell him the deal is off?"

"No!" Elle squeaked, "By the Flame, no... Hah. I'm... I'm just saying-- like... what if?"

Tycon nodded sagely, "A hypothetical exercise in thought, then?"

"R-right," Elle gave a wry smile, "But... if you did... *buy* me..."

The woman was taken by a sudden wave of shyness, her other hand absentmindedly twisting a blonde lock of her hair...

Tycon kissed the back of her hand as he kept her gaze... "Go on."

"What... would I be, then?" Elle pouted her lips.

"My personal servant, perhaps," Tycon grinned, "ever at my beck and call. Can you cook?"

"Ugh, Flame Eternal," Elle groaned. "Nnnooo."

"Clean?"

"Yes, but I won't."

"Then..." Tycon tilted his head up in thought, "What are your thoughts on... sitting patiently in my bedroom quarters, dramatically sighing at the window as you wait for my triumphant return from battle?"

"Yeah, no," Elle snorted a laugh. "I'd be in the field with you-- I'll fight you for the right, if I have to."

"As your magnanimous boyfriend, I shall concede," Tycon bowed his head. "Would you stay by my side then, Lady Haelvia... until death do us part?"

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