Deception

"We'll be staying at the tavern-- you're happy to join me, are you? That's sweet. I don't think your mother would like that, or like me for it, but I also don't think I should be sleeping at a tavern alone when most people here either hate me or distrust me. I need my protection," the demon smiled as he rested his chin in his hand, making very little effort to disguise the affection he felt for the halfling. He had been attempting to play down how he felt to prevent embarrassing him in front of his mother, and mostly to help her like him, but when the women appeared to dislike him regardless, making the effort to hide how he felt seemed ridiculous.

And it wasn't like he was trying to make out with Neotoma over the table - a few caring smiles and affectionate words were hardly a big deal.

"And I'll carry you again if you want; I don't mind. You're not exactly a strain for me, Neo. Plus, it was cute, wasn't it?"
 
"It certainly wasn't not cute," he replied, a bashful laugh escaping his lips, knowing now that every word from Lysander's lips was most likely flirting. The fact that he was so oblivious before was more than a little embarrassing looking back on it and the thought made him sink a bit in his seat, though he didn't sink for long when his curiosity was suddenly piqued.

"I wonder what my mother did with my room," he said outloud, taking in the home once again. They did only have two rooms so unless his mother had crammed all five of them in her one bedroom to keep his, he knew that he didn't have anywhere to stay other than the floor anyway. It was a good excuse in his eyes, not to mention the fact that Lysander what right in him probably benefiting from some protection.
 
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"Well, when you break the news to her, try and make out as though it was your idea to stay at the tavern. The fewer reasons she has to dislike me, the better. For the record, I think my parents would have liked you; they liked unique things, and you're certainly unique, hm? It's a shame your mother isn't fascinated by difference," he drawled with a careful, subtle glance over at Mar'kech, finding his earlier appreciation for the woman had slowly soured. He didn't dislike her, but he knew that those feelings were fostering under the surface, ready to sour and grow if she continued to distrust him.

Which he assumed she would do, regardless of how nice and police he was.

"You should just go ahead and tell her I'm King, maybe she'll stop scowling at me if she knows I'm royalty," continue the demon as he eased back against the chair, a hand running through his hair. "Not that I think she'll believe you but it might be fun."
 
"No, no, I don't think that would be a good idea," he quickly replied as he watched his mother, that of whom seemed totally indifferent to everyone else as she focused on the meal. If there was one thing that brought her joy, it was cooking, and while she didn't trust Lysander she still wanted to make him a proper meal out of traditional hospitality. She was a huge fan of tradition in all sense outside of her taste in men and she still held onto her own mothers' cookbook affectionately. Because of the traditional, fire pit and pot food, it wasn't hard for Neotoma to recreate the food from his childhood when he was on the road while all the while trying new ingredients he found during his travels - though nothing was as good as Mar'kech's food.

"Tell her that her cooking is good. I don't want to lie to her and translate that you said otherwise, okay?" He insisted as he watched his mother, his hands now fiddling with one of the many blankets that often covered the notoriously hard stone furniture that had to be cushioned with handmade pillows. He hadn't come from the richest of people, that was evident, and the fact that the orc happily loved his wife despite that was lovely and admirable. "There's nothing more important to my mother, other than her children, than her cooking. I'm nowhere near as passionate and pretty much only cook for necessity," He admitted with a laugh.
 
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"Even if I said her cooking was terrible, I doubt you'd tell her that," the demon reminded as he stretched his legs out as subtly as he could, the chair he was sat in being on the smaller side - at least for someone of his stature. The orc didn't seem to be having that trouble, but the confusion Lysander had disappeared when he took into account how much taller he was than the other man, and thus, how more uncomfortable he was having his legs hitched up so much.

Though his discomfort didn't prevent a twinge of smugness from arriving, taking pride in the discomfort when it meant he was physically more imposing than the orc was.

"Look, this isn't... easy for me, I'm doing my best but it's not easy," he admitted as he absently took Neotoma's hand under the table, finding the simple gesture a little daring given the reaction the affection would bring - if he brought attention to it, anyway, which he tried not to do for Neotoma's benefit. His words, meanwhile, were less than subtle, taking advantage in the fact nobody could understand him.

"So you think I'm attractive, don't you?" He asked easily, resting his head on his free hand. "I certainly think you are. It'd be a shame to wait until we get back to Ignis to... act on our feelings."
 
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"Well of course I think you're attractive. I would need to be blind to not think you're attractive," he admitted easily. Even if he didn't feel sexual tension between the two, he knew that he wasn't unique in saying that the demon wasn't hard to look at. What truly made him blush and anxiously giggle was aimed more towards just how blunt he continued to be.

"Yes, well, I... am willing to act on those feelings as well. I don't... want to embarrass you, though. As I said, I've never done this before. I'm... sure that you're far more experienced than I am, so... I imagine - I don't know, I don't want to embarrass you," He stammered, continuing his nervous laughter.
 
Drakali wasn't fluent in the demonic language from Ignis. Hell, he didn't even know a single word and never did plan on bothering to learn one either - but he didn't need to be an expert in the language to realise that the two were discussing something that probably wasn't appropriate at the dinner table, nor in front of Neotoma's mother. Just because she didn't understand didn't mean it suddenly become reasonable to talk about sex in front of her, which was what the orc smartly guessed was going on, if the flirty smiles and blushes were anything to go by.

Rather than bring his wife's attention to the potentially lewd discussion going on at her table, under her nose, he wisely decided to simply talk to Neotoma instead and distract him from engaging with the demon. It wasn't an easy plan to act out when he struggled conversing with people at the best of times, let alone trying to find something to talk about with his stepson who he had only just met - but he was willing to try.

"So what's Ignis like?" He asked with genuine curiosity, sipping from the large mug of traditional beer at his side. "Is it wrong of me to assume that it's a fiery landscape of lava and ash? Maybe that's a stereotype. I don't want to be rude, I... know nothing about Ignis, obviously."
 
"No, that's pretty accurate," he admitted when his attention was brought back to their surroundings, the fact that the Orc had been watching the whole time only making his blush grow deeper. Letting out a laugh to try and keep the discussion under the guise of being family friendly, he ran a clawed hand through his hair.

"It's like Harenae, but with humid heat. Lots of lava, not so much ash as I expected. The flora there is so strange - super brittle until you break a leaf, then it seems to contain something inside. I haven't really studied all that I wanted yet but Lysander was more than excited to see Harenae and... I was feeling a little more than homesick."
 
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"Well. As I said, it's good you're back. Your mother told me plenty about you, but it's never the same as meeting the person in the flesh, getting to know them properly - and I hope that... we can get to know one another. In time, obviously, there's no rush. You probably need to rest tonight, after the meal. Ignis is... miles away, it must have been a really long journey for you both," the orc smiled again, doing his best to be hospitable and polite, even offering that smile across to the demon. Orcs didn't have the best reputation for hospitality, often showing great distrust in those they deemed weaker to them - but that didn't go for Neotoma or Lysander.

Neotoma probably was a lot weaker than him, but him being the son of the woman he loved meant that he was exempt from the orc's usual standoffish judgements. Lysander, meanwhile, looked like he could give the orc a good fight, and that was more than enough of a good reason to make Drakali think twice about openly criticising him.

"Where are they gonna sleep tonight, Mar'kech? I... assume you're dating the demon?" He murmured with another glance back at Neotoma, forcing himself not to show any reaction to that potentiality. "I could always nap at the tavern tonight if that gives you guys more room here."
 
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"I-I - oh, I don't - dating? Well, n-no, not really - it's complicated, I don't know how to explain it. It'll sound ridiculous but demons - they work weird," Neotoma stammered our, his face igniting uncle a blush as he absently fiddled with a piece of loose fabric. He knew there was sexual tension between the two but that didn't equal a relationships that j his mind. Besides, while Lysander said that it was totally fine, he felt as if he was intruding in his and Imogen's relationship.

"I don't want to interrupt your situation," he continued, motioning to the small home. Peeking up, Mar'kech took in her son and the demon curiously. Her son was an adult now and she couldn't force him to stay at home and be appropriate, even if she desperately wanted to. "We'll stay at the tavern. I was planning on showing more of our food to him."

"Yes, I... think that might be a good idea," she agreed after a moment of contemplation, motioning her ladle to Lysander with a small smile. "I know our home is a bit small with all of the kids running about and I'm sure all of this is a bit overwhelming, especially for your... friend, or whatever he is to you."
 
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"I don't doubt that, demons are... strange in general, aren't they? I won't pretend that I'm not... wary of your friend, but he seems nicer than I initially imagined demons to be. I suppose it's hard to ignore centuries' worth of propaganda, but... well, I'm open to learning about your friend, getting to know him a bit better," smiled the orc as he tried to keep an open mind. Naturally, though, the idea of Neotoma even being friends with a demon was concerning, even if he barely knew the boy - any creature that had settle with a demon gave Drakali cause to be concerned for them when demons were said to be selfishly motivated and, at their core, violent and cruel.

He was well aware that those characteristics could be the result of propaganda spread to demonise them, but ignoring the words that had been drummed into him from the moment he was born were difficult to set aside, hence his obvious concern as he took in the blushing cheeks and Lysander's affectionate smiles and murmurings.

"Yes, well, it might be best for you to stay at the tavern, but be sure to come around for breakfast and spend the day here tomorrow, yeah? So you can catch up with your mother, just you two. I won't... ah... make things awkward by lumbering around and ruining the reunion."
 
"Well, of course, none of us are immune to propaganda," he reassured with a reconfirming smile. He only somewhat understood the Orc's wariness, having already pushed back most of his anxiety towards demons now that he had felt feelings towards two of them. In fact, it was harder to accept Drakali and the stereotypes from his species, especially since he had experienced those stereotypes in the flesh.

"Oh, I don't want you to feel obligated to be forced out of your own home, Drakali. It's not mine anymore, it hasn't been in years. Besides, isn't it important to try and get to know you better as well? I'm... sure I make you uncomfortable but I'd like to stop that," he explained meekly before glancing at Lysander. He knew the demon couldn't understand him but he hoped that his shy look could at least prove that he was a bit nervous about the whole thing.

"It'll be interesting to show Lysander the tavern. I'm sure we won't neccesari have the best greeting but I can sure try to do the best I can for him to feel comfortable. Then, as you said, we can have a lovely breakfast. It'll be annoying to translate but I guess it's nice to put a skill to use, right?"
 
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"Maybe you can teach me some phrases to use so he doesn't feel too left out?" The orc suggested with a quiet glance at the demon who had, inevitably, zoned out of the discussion he couldn't take part in. Drakali didn't need to make the effort if he didn't want to, but he felt obligated to try. As wary as he was about the idea of a demon being in his house and around his young family, he felt he needed to trust the son of the woman he loved. He barely knew Neotoma but he wanted the boy to like him, to think he was good enough for his mother. Trusting his word and making the effort to accommodate the demon he was travelling with felt like a good way of building up a bond of sorts.

"I managed to learn Harenaen, and it's not an easy language to master. I'm sure the demon's language can't be that difficult in comparison," the burly man continued, sitting back with a sigh at the food set down in front of him, offering his wife a grateful grin at her effort. He had tried to make her dishes from his home, but the orcs weren't known for exquisite food with that tantalised the tastebuds. It was a matter of quantity over quality to fulfil and propel their large statures, hence most of their meals being heavy and stodgy in nature. As happily as he could tuck into a traditional meal of an obscene amount of meat and some stodgy potato-like side, he had learnt to enjoy food that actually had some taste to it, his wife's cooking epitomising that.

"So, I heard that King from Ignis is coming here for a meeting with the other royals? That'll be interesting. Heard some mates at the tavern say the new King's a kid, early twenties or something," he shrugged, forcing himself to use the cutlery - rather than his hands as he often resorted to. "Not that I'm judging. I've heard good things about him. If he opened the borders up, he's an improvement on his ancestors, at least. I ain't good with politics, but it's a good sign, at least."
 
"He knows that the king of Ignis is coming to Harenae and knows that the king is your age," explained Neotoma, nudging Lysander back into focus. He wanted the demon as much into everything as he could be, especially when it was directly involving him. With raised brows under his shaggy purple hair, he also motioned for the meal set in their cast iron bowls, that of which were handmade by locals and perhaps his mother herself, her being more than a little skilled in the varying jobs of Harenae.

"I hope your friend likes it, my little mouse. I know you like it, at the least," Mar'kesh declared, offering her son a loving kiss on the forehead before slithering beside Drakali. She made plenty, for the younger children when their nap was over, but what mattered in the moment was her eldest son, watching closely as he ate the fresh stew with a hum in content.

"It's as good as it's always been," he praised, the fresh vegetables mixed in with the wild, beef like meat mixed in not only being a staple but also delicious, his mother always seemingly adding just the right spice. It wasn't as crazy as the food in Ignis but it was close, so his black eyes quickly darted to Lysander. "Do you like it?"
 
For the first meal he had ever eaten outside of his kingdom, the Harenaen staple wasn't as bad as he had been dreading. He had assumed that he had been so used to the food from his lands that anything else would pale in comparison, though as he carefully tested the meal, he cursed himself for being so arrogant. He was arrogant, with a superiority complex to match like most demons, but he wasn't so arrogant that he failed to see that good food could exist outside his home - it was naive and downright rude to believe otherwise.

"Not as spicy as I'd like, but maybe that's because I'm used to everything back home being spicy in some way. It's delicious, really. Not too dissimilar from the tastes I'm used to, other than the spice element. Tell your mother it's excellent," he nodded as he took another spoonful from the stew, a genuine smile offered to Mar'kech - he couldn't communicate verbally but he hoped his genuine smile and the fact he was eating without hesitation would be enough to tell her that her cooking was something he found enjoyable.

"...You aren't going to tell them I'm the King, are you? I'm enjoying the normality, actually. That said, part of the reason we're here is to warn your mother, isn't it? Before the eventual invasion and all, so she has time to find somewhere safe."
 
"He loves it," explained Neotoma to his mother, who physically relaxed in relief. She didn't quite like Lysander based off of bias but that didn't mean she didn't want to be accommodating to him nonetheless. It also made Neotoma happy for the fact that Lysander was excited for his culture as much as he was for Lysander's, unaware that it could all be just more attempts to manipulate Neotoma into a false sense of security. He didn't want to think that as an option, instead, he chose to believe that everything was from his genuine interest rather than a manipulation tool. "He says it's not quite as spicy as his traditional food but everything in Ignis is pretty hot, from the weather to their meals."

"Well, I'm sure I could handle the food. You know me, I don't shy away from the spicy. As for Drakali - no offense, love, but your food isn't the most flavorful," Mar'kesh teased, chuckling as she offered her husband a quick peck on the cheek. Mar'kesh wasn't the type to be feminine, especially when she lived under a society where women were the majority and did most of the physical work. It was so ingrained in her that, despite Drakali being an Orc and thus pretty strong and powerful, she was often the one to do the physical labor while he raised their children. She beat his height when standing up properly on her tail and easily could intimidate someone, though that didn't mean she wasn't willing to show a little traditional feminine affection every now and then, especially to her family.

"Oh, yes, everyone is welcome to come to Ignis. That's the beauty of open borders, huh?" Neotoma teased before turning to Lysander, choosing to ignore the idea of invasion. For just a moment, he'd prefer to not talk about it. "My mother says she could handle your food easily, and I think that's true. She's a tough cookie, probably could beat Drakali in a fight."
 
Given the overwhelming ratio of women to men and the roles the former tended to undertake as a result, it was a truism that male orcs didn't gravitate towards Harenae voluntarily. Some inevitably passed through, for work or travel, but it was never a place many men of the species settled in purely because of the gender roles present. Women in the orcs' kingdom could put up a fight and be as rowdy and as raucous as the men could, but there was still a lingering gender role stereotype that remained that dictated that, as tough as they were, they would never be capable of being as tough as a man. Harenae, for that reason, with its majority of strong women, wasn't a place many of the orcs felt comfortable in, their traditional views often being challenged by the mere existence of the Harenaen woman.

It wasn't something Drakali had ever felt uncomfortable around. Part of the reason he fell in love with Mar'kesh was for her strength, after all, loving the fact she could probably beat him in a fight if he ever found himself in one with her. He wouldn't lie and pretend that being the one who stayed at home while his wife did the physical labour had been easy at the start, his traditions having ingrained themselves in him - but it didn't take him too long to realise how bullshit and backwards those traditions were. If anything, he loved the dynamic of his marriage, regardless of the taunts it would inevitably garner him if he told his friends back home of it.

"Now, there ain't nothing wrong with the food from my kingdom. Is it fancy? Nah. But it's what every orc needs to be big and strong. And our kids need that if they're gonna be anything like us, hon," he boasted as he set his elbow on the table, the strong and unsubtle muscles evident as he did so. When picking up the slight grumble that threatened to turn into a cry from one of the children, he automatically heaved his body up from a chair to tend to the baby. Being a hands-on parent also wasn't a characteristic associate to his kind, but he couldn't fathom why that was when all he himself wanted to do was spend every second with his children.

"...She really doesn't like me," hummed Lysander as he watched the large orc wander past and disappear into one of the bedrooms, a smile crossing his face at the realisation that the assumption he had of orcs had been wrong - at least, the generalisation had. Clearly not all orcs were the same, because Drakali was far from the uncaring, rough idiot he had been assuming an orc would be. "I can tell, it's fine though. I just think I need to leave, Neotoma. You spend time with your mother alone, and come meet me at the tavern later, alright? I just can't sit here and have your mother clearly dislike and distrust me, it's fucking... annoying."
 
"She doesn't clearly dislike you, don't be so dramatic," scolded Neotoma quietly, his smile dropping instantly at the other's words. She definitely didn't trust Lysander, but that could be from him simply being Neotoma's friend, the woman being more than a little protective of her son since I finally having him back. Taking a hearty bite of a chunk of something similar to a yam, he hummed in content.

"She dislikes you as much as your wife disliked me and... I still enjoy her presence, even if I get the vibe that she isn't a fan of me. Are you sure us... I'm, you know, sleeping together is alright with her?" He questioned, his cheeks now covered in a blush just at the mention of the possibility of sex. The idea of it made his heart race in excitement, his smile returning bashfully before taking another bite of food.
 
"Imogen isn't my wife - yet. I'd like nothing more than to marry her, it's something I've been determined to do since I was 10, but she's adamant that she's too young. Same reason she isn't fond of the idea to have children, though her health probably plays a part in that, as it ought to. I'm eager for an heir, obviously, but she's not as keen," he absently drawled, his own mood affected by the sudden mention of his girlfriend. He could gush about her for hours on end without once running out of something to say about her, but bringing her up only proceeded to make him realise how much he missed her, especially when her health could dramatically deteriorate at any moment; a fact that constantly worried him and one he'd never forgive himself for if he wasn't around to support her

"Oh, she's fine with it, I've told you this," he continued with a sudden grin, waving his hand absently at the worries, which he found cute more than anything else. "Honestly, she's probably with her handmaid right now, as we speak, doing god knows what, so it's really not an issue. We're more open with this sort of thing, I told you that. The only person off limits for me is Themus, she made that clear. You? You're fine, Neotoma. What we do is perfectly a-okay in Imogen's books. Does that reassure you enough to stop you fretting out about upsetting her? I do hope so, hm? Because I'm looking forward to, you know, sleeping with you~"
 
"Okay, yes," Neotoma replied, trying to keep his blush down as Mar'kesh and Drakali are, both of whom were rather quiet. "That being said, that doesn't mean Imogen doesn't like me . It's understandable, I'm not a demon and I'm just some stranger who wandered into your kingdom one day, you know? I get it, I wouldn't hop onto immediately liking me either."

As Neotoma spoke quietly to Lysander, Mar'kesh couldn't help but proudly smile at the sight. Neotoma was often teased as a child for his lack of physical strength and his social awkwardness but what he made up for it was his intelligence. Scripts of the language in Ignis was sparse and wasn't something you could just casually check out of a library, it needed to be sought out. For her son to somehow master the language to the best of his ability in a mere few years, amongst every other language and their written forms, was something she could be proud of in replacement for his lack of strength.

"Isn't he amazing, Drakali, dear?" She purred to the Orc, her head in her hand as she absently took more sips of the stew. "This is only proof that the other children will succeed wonderfully, wouldn't you agree? Not to brag but I have good genes, evidently."
 
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