The Tales of Tamil - Uh, Talimor

"You think my religion is false. I can tell by the way you act. You cursed his statue." She shrugs. "Maybe he's not a god. Maybe you're not. But you did save me. You are strong, and fast, and a mighty warrior, like the husband I always prayed for... If they kill us, I'll be happy to go with you. You and Tarra are the only two people who have ever looked out for me. Really me, not because I'm a chosen virgin, or because I'm the Mesiah's betrothed. You're risking yourself for me."

You don't know how to reply. The strength of her love is more genuine than you thought.

"I'm, uh, well, I like you a lot. I'd be sad if they killed you." You say. She smiles.

"I'd be sad if they killed you, too."

Do you kiss her? Now seems like as good a time as any. But there's a table between you. Getting up to walk around the table might kill the mood. Maybe-

A knock at the door saves you from your indecision. You call out, telling the knocker to come in. A young man enters, carrying a covered tray. Behind him, another man with a bundle of clothing. The first man speaks.

"Good evening, (something) guests. (Something) Ratzinger sends you well wishes with this treat, as he thought you might be hungry. In addition to the fine meal prepared by his best chefs, he also invites you to dinner tonight." The man with the bundle of clothes lays them on the bed, promptly leaving. As if an afterthought, the first man adds,

"Ah, and a spare change of clothes. He hopes these will fit." Mia catches your attention, prompting you, making circling motions with her fingers as if to say 'Go'.

"Uh, we accept (Something) Ratzinger's kind gifts, and ah, we look forward to joining him for dinner tonight. Could you arrange for someone to fetch us in time for dinner?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. Expect us in three hours." The servant bows and leaves the room.

"This dinner will be important," Mia explains once the two of you are alone. "Ratzinger is a good ally. You should try to keep him happy."

"I have no idea how to play politics," You reply. "But I'll do what I can." Standing, you walk to the bed, examining the clothes left for you. Perhaps Ratzinger had guessed your disposition well, as the clothes seem to be simple, comfortable, and not nearly as posh as his own. As you hold the button-up shirt up to your body, you ask Mia:

"By the way, what does the Volvish word '(Something)' mean? Everyone keeps saying '(something)' Ratzinger and '(something)' Law."

"It is an honorific," She explains. "For a high ranking religious leader."

"Ah. Like a Bishop." You nod, understanding.

You drop the clothes back on the bed, stepping back to examine yourself. The pajama pants you wore when you arrived in this world are tattered, dirty, and probably smell. Your skin is blotchy with mud and as you look closely, you find blood stains in places.

"I suppose a shower would be a good idea. Or I guess a bath." You walk to the table where Mia still sits. Casually, you take her hands in yours.

"I'd be honored if my wife would join me," You say with a sly wink. She smiles, looking away and blushing a bit.

"Yes, Your Majesty," She replies. You pause, cringing a bit.

"I don't know about the title," You explain. "It's a bit weird." Mia stands, wrapping her arms around you.

"It lets me keep hoping," She explains, "You're still the Mesiah to me." You lead her into the bathroom by the hands, shaking your head slightly.

"...If it makes you happy," You reply. Mia begins to remove her clothing, unsnapping her belt, pulling her shirt over her head, and unbuttoning her skirt. You're vaguely aware that you're staring, not undressing yourself, but you can't help it. Within a moment, she is totally nude, standing in front of you. She is petite, about ten inches shorter than you, and thin. Her shoulders are delicate and feminine. Your eye catches on the slight curve of her hips, rousing images of grabbing her from behind. The young woman notices you staring and smiles, clasping her hands behind her back. She doesn't stop you, instead she seems to be enjoying your attention. You can't help but step closer, rubbing your fingers across her flat stomach, resting your hands on her hips.

"You're gorgeous," You whisper to her. Mia's nose wrinkles a bit, and she turns her head.

"You smell," She says. You laugh, and she apologizes. "I'm sorry! You are very handsome too. I am happy to be with you."

"Let's get a bath," You release her hips, fiddling with the taps until the right temperature of water begins to fill the tub. Curious about the level of technology in this world, you inquire about it to Mia.

"How do the taps work here?" You ask.

"You turn the handles and the water comes out." Mia replies. You raise your eyebrows, unsure if she's being sarcastic or genuinely did not understand you.

"No, I mean, how does the water get here?" She looks confused, wrinkling her eyebrows as she thinks.

"From a river?" She eventually answers.

You rub your temples.

"Thanks, Mia."

Once the bath is drawn, you strip, and ease yourself into the warm water. The large tub could easily hold four people, so you have room to stretch your legs, easing down until your shoulders are covered by the steaming water. You relax in the pleasant heat, calm for the first time in days. Mia submerges quickly, and stands. She begins washing her body with a handy bar of soap. You can't help but watch as she stands in thigh deep water, rubbing herself all over with the oily soap. She rubs her long, elegant arms, her thin, alluring neck. She lathers her breasts, kneading them slightly, running her hands down over her stomach to work the soap in small circles.

"Is that because of me?" She asks, pointing to your erection. You've been so lost in watching her, you didn't notice your own reaction.

"Yes. Can't help it." You reply. She smiles fondly at you, seductively winking.

"I'm happy I made you hard. I like that."

You wash yourself too, standing up to lather your body. As you reach for the bar of soap on the edge of the tub, Mia quickly snatches it.

"May I?" She asks. Your heart thumping with excitement, you nod eagerly.

"Please do." You reply. She stands in front of you. Coating her hands with soap, she starts at your shoulders. Mia rubs firmly over your skin, not just washing but massaging also, slowly working the muscle. She runs her hands out the length of your arm, carefully coating every inch of your skin with her dainty, feminine fingers. Mia drops lower, cleaning your armpits, your chest, and reaching around to your back. Your penis pokes her in the stomach softly as she wraps her arms around you, sending a thrill through your body. Tantalizingly, she slowly makes her way to your privates, her slippery, warm hands rubbing generously over your shaft. Involuntarily, you groan with pleasure. She softly, slowly begins to tug you with one hand, lathering your sac with the other. Although she certainly takes her time at your crotch, she does not stop there, working her way down your legs and eventually, prompting you to sit so she can wash your feet.

"I feel kind of bad," You say, as she works soap between your toes. "You did all of this for me, and I didn't do a thing for you."

"I enjoyed it," She shrugs. "Besides, you can touch me anywhere... anytime. We're married." She says. You wince a bit, your mood dying slightly.

"Are we though?" You ask. She stops rubbing your foot, looking up at you.

"I... We... at least have to pretend we are," Her answer is irritated, a slightly harsh edge to her voice.

"I agree, yeah, fake it. But like... really?" you ask. Mia releases your foot and you let it sink down in the soapy water.

"We don't have to be." She says flatly, disappointed. "But you kissed me... at the altar," She seems to deflate, her shoulders sagging. It's your turn to be irritated.

"Tarra was going to snap me in half if I didn't. You know that." You reply.

"She wasn't..." Mia backs up and sits opposite you, crossing her arms. You sigh deeply, rubbing a returning weariness out of your eyes. Your erection, along with the sensual mood in the room, is gone.

"Look..." You struggle to find the right words to explain. "...I like you. I enjoy the time I have with you. But marriage is like... months off. Maybe years." Mia looks like she might cry.

"We have to pretend to be married for your sake, but let's not...PRETEND we're married while we pretend we're married." You try to explain, but Mia is confused as much as she is hurt.

"Don't pretend... while we pretend?" You think perhaps your Volvish has made the conversation difficult.

"Okay," You sit forward,trying to make her understand. "Let's enjoy each other's company. Let's be friends. More than friends. And let's pretend to be married, while trying to decide if we actually want to get married." You explain. Mia's eyes light up slightly, and she seems to understand.

"A secret courtship! While pretending to be married," Her mood lightens quickly as she smirks at you. "That's so romantic. In public, my husband... in private, my lover."

"Yes. Yes, that." a wave of relief washes over you. "Maybe one day we'll love each other enough to get married. But until then, we'll be ...secret lovers... who pretend to be married." You confuse yourself slightly as you finish explaining. She's thoughtful for a minute, and your eyes slip down to her breasts, where her nipples are right at water level.

"I like it." Mia says, and you snap your eyes up to hers. She scoots around the tub until she's next to you. You wrap one arm around her, and she cuddles up close.

"Can we still have sex?" She asks.

"Only if you want to," You reply.

"I do." Mia says. Your excitement rises, and you reach your free hand across her warm, wet body, fondling her breasts and stomach gently.

"Good. Me too." You say.

Tarra walks into the apartment without knocking, a quick reminder that you've left the bathroom door open. Instead of backing out and apologizing like a sane person, the Warrior Woman rolls her eyes when she sees you in the tub.

"Uh, hey?" You call out.

"Hello," She doesn't pay much attention to you, lifting the lid on the food platter sent from Ratzinger. Whatever's there, she helps herself to a handful.

"Uh, do you mind?" You ask, shocked. Still snuggled close to you, Mia giggles.

"She's a bit (something, the opposite of shameful)," The young woman explains.

"No, they didn't execute me. Thanks for asking." Tarra says dryly. You're surprised.

"I didn't realize that was even on the table." You say. Tarra takes another bite of Ratzinger's gift, speaking around the mouthful.

"I work directly for Law. He was not happy I brought you back, 'Your Highness'." She says sarcastically. Still holding the platter lid, Tarra drops into a chair, letting out a breath.

"This is a mess," she says sorrowfully. Mia swims to the edge of the tub, propping her elbows up on the side. She rests her chin on her hands as she speaks.

"Tarra, guess what." The young woman says happily.

"Did you have sex again? You don't need to tell me every time." Tarra replies.

"Did you tell her last time?" You interject, uncomfortable with the closeness of the two friends. The whole dynamic of the party is changing now that you've begun to understand their language. Both women ignore you.

"The Mesiah is courting me," Mia brags with a proud smile. Tarra looks confused, tilting her head.

"I thought you were already married."

"We're pretending to be married. He's courting me for real." Mia explains.

"Oh. I see." Tarra replies, rolling her eyes. "I'm so happy for you. Speaking of the Mesiah, We need to discuss the Triumvirate."

"I'm confused," You say. "I thought my Uncle was the Mesiah. Why do you keep calling me that?" You ask.

"You're the new one!" Mia explains happily. Tarra drops the lid back on the platter, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"You need to live and breathe that," the warrior explains, addressing you. "You have to convince the Triumvirate that you truly are the direct successor to your uncle. That you are the Mesiah. Mia and I have to call you that, get other people used to it. That's the only way we survive this." She's grim and serious. Mia is not.

"Want to take a bath with us, Tarra? The water's still warm." You're shocked by Mia's offer, given how intimate the two of you had been. You start to object.

"Uh, what, I-,"

"No." Tarra answers for you. She's cold and unfriendly.

"Why not? We don't mind," Mia pushes her. You give Mia a double take, shocked. The playful blonde notices, laughing.

"What? You never bathed with friends when you were a kid?" Mia asks.

"I don't think I need to explain to you why this might be an awkward time for Tarra to join us," You try to object, but Mia just rolls her eyes.

"She's shy about being naked," Mia says. "I'm teasing her."

"Well stop it," You demand. Mia smiles mischievously.

"Ignore her, your majesty," Tarra says, walking to the bathroom door. "She's messing with you. Get dressed. We've got to talk about this supper you're having." The Warrior Woman pushes the door closed, granting you privacy.

The two of you climb out of the tub, drying and beginning to dress. From the pocket of your old pajama pants, you pull out your flashlight. Clicking it curiously, you see that the batteries still have some life in them. Turning it off, you store the flashlight in the pocket of your new breeches. Definitely best if you keep it nearby. The new clothes fit pretty well, if a bit baggy. Perhaps Bishop Ratzinger thought it better to estimate larger. Mia talks about Tarra while you pull on the breeches.

"She's really, really shy about her body. If she ever takes her clothes off in front of you, that means she really trusts you." She explains, buttoning a brand new deep red skirt around her waist.

"I think that's true with most people," You answer, confused.

"Yeah but like, really with her. You should get her to show you." Mia continues. You frown a bit, picturing the frightening, powerful warrior in your mind.

"I hope to never have to see Tarra naked," You answer.

"I can hear you," Tarra calls through the door. You cringe a bit, trying to backtrack.

"That sounded bad. I'm sure plenty of men would love to see you naked," You say. Mia is silently laughing as she buttons a frilly blouse. Tarra replies, perhaps a bit of a joke in her tone this time.

"Men, maybe. You, on the other hand, wouldn't know what to do if you saw me naked." Your cheeks get hot as you finish dressing, pulling a button up vest over your shirt. Once you and Mia finish dressing, you look yourself over. The clothes would fit right in with Victorian England.

The women sit in chairs, and you sit on the bed. Tarra takes a deep breath, explaining how this is going to work.

"Realistically, there's no way we can convince Law to support you. We can give up on that. Ratzinger is already in your corner. That leaves Castellano." She explains.

"Is it wise to give up on Law?" You ask.

"Law already asked for you to be kicked out. In his view, he's pissed you off. If you win, he thinks that you'll take his throne, or maybe his head. Luckily, the other two Triumvirates members don't care for him that much. So you've made the one enemy you could afford to make."

"So I need to convince those two I'm the Mesiah," You say.

"Among other things. Listen, I've worked among these men for years, and what I'm about to say is an open secret. They don't really care about the Mesiah. They might not even think he's actually divine."

Mia gasps, shocked. Tarra ignores her.

"They want power more than anything, so to keep their positions, they have to fake it. Ratzinger is good at faking it. Law... less so. Anyway, If they think recognising you as the Mesiah is bad for their stranglehold on the people, they won't do it. Even if you raise the dead, they'll fight you every step of the way if your victory means losing their power."

"Well I can't do that," You interject.

"I wish you could. It would make this easier. That brings us to your best shot: Your physical strength."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask about that. How did I get strong? How did I stop those bandits?" You ask. Tarra flinches, and Mia looks down shamefully when you mention the bandits.

"Those weren't bandits." Tarra speaks directly. "Probably (something). Men for hire, sent to kill Mia. We lied because we thought you might run away." You're only a bit shocked, as you had suspected the women weren't being honest.

"Hired by whom?" you ask.

"The Triumvirate. Mia was betrothed to the Mesiah. She was supposed to die if he didn't come back. They probably guessed correctly that I had no plan to bring her back," Tarra says. Mia squeaks happily. The young blonde stands, wrapping both arms around her friend in a loving embrace.

"Because you love me," Mia says happily, squeezing Tarra.

"...yes." Tarra continues, patting Mia on the back. "Anyway, back to your strength. I don't know where it comes from, but you've got it, same as your uncle,"

"He was strong and fast too?" You ask. Tarra nods slowly, as if explaining to a toddler.

"You don't think he took control of Volvsvaer by asking nicely, do you?"

"Of course he was a powerful warrior!" Mia interjects. "He was the Mesiah, and so are you!" She smiles brightly, excited. Tarra shrugs.

"Honestly, that's as good a guess as any. You might actually be divine." She says. You shake your head incredulously.

"If it was just me, I'd believe you, but Uncle Dave? Divine? No way," You laugh, and the women stare at you. Mia sits back down, frowning.

"What?" You ask. "What did I say?"

"Don't... don't use his name." Tarra explains. "It's considered blasphemy to say his name outside of certain ceremonies."

"You're shitting me." You say. Mia scowls angrily.

"And don't make fun of him!" The young girl demands. You hold your hands up apologetically.

"Sorry," You say. Tarra continues her lesson.

"If you get a chance to show off your strength or speed, do it. It will go a long way toward our goal. In fact, if nothing comes up organically, make it happen." Tarra says. You examine yourself, flexing your muscles and clenching your fingers.

"Honestly, I don't feel that different. Maybe I got lucky with those three guys I beat up. Maybe I just got a lucky punch on you when we sparred." You suggest.

With no hesitation, Tarra picks up a serving knife from the platter on the table, whipping it end over end at your chest. You catch it with one hand, snagging it by the handle.

"What was that about?" You ask, a bit irritated. Mia's mouth drops open, and Tarra chuckles.

"You've still got your speed," She confirms. You shake your head.

"It doesn't prove much if you throw the knife that slowly," You explain, handing it back to her. Mia covers her open mouth with both hands, awed.

"Look, you've got the strength, and trust me, you've got the speed. Just show it off," Tarra scolds you.

"I'll try, I guess."

You're still lost as to why you're stronger and how it happened. But as long as you've been gifted with supernatural abilities out of the blue, you may as well use them. You wonder if perhaps your rapid mastery of the Volvish language is somehow linked to your other new abilities.

Over the next couple of hours, Tarra educates you to the best of her ability on high court etiquette. She drilles you on names of other important officials, who is likely to be at the dinner, and things not to say. The amount of information has left you dizzy. Once she's convinced you're sufficiently prepared for the dinner, Tarra leaves to 'find some respectable armor'.

Tarra returns with Ratzinger's servant, walking with you as he leads you to the dining room.

"I'll be outside," The warrior is wearing the decorative armor of the other guards. She looks fierce and a bit intimidating in the white steel plate. The helmet gives her voice an echoey sound as she speaks.