Chapter 21

21

- Maeve -

I look up at Arelion's chiseled, blue face and the piercing yellow eyes. For the first time, there's a vulnerability in them, a boyish uncertainty that creates a sucking feeling in the pit of my stomach and a constriction in my throat.

"Yes, Arelion," I reply. "I will. I love you too, you see." My voice cracks at the last word.

Tara gives a whoop of triumph. "Yeah! Great job, Arelion!"

"Finally," Cerak groans. "I honestly don't know about these two, Tara. They can't see what's right in front of them."

My fiance pulls me to him and kisses me with a passion that makes me see stars.

"Good," he finally rumbles, pulling me closer and hugging me hard. "That's all I want in this world."

"Me too," I chime in, wiping a tear. "Nothing else matters now."

"So, I do enjoy flying," Tara says from the controls. "I've got no complaints. It's fun. But we're not actually getting anywhere. We're going to Eo, right?"

Arelion looks at me. "I think that's probably the best place?—"

"It's not," says a new voice behind us.

As always, Arelion yanks me behind him, putting himself between me and danger. "Archmagus Yomeran! I'd forgotten you exist."

The old magician-slash-alien-slash-insufferable busybody is standing behind us, all white lion's mane and black robes.

Yomeran peers at us. "Had you indeed? I suppose that's a good sign, although clearly meant as an insult."

Arelion straightens. "I no longer need your acknowledgement of being the Supreme Leader of Eo, Yomeran. Buroteo is dead, as are most of his alien forces. You're free to go."

The old alien chuckles. "I'm always free to go, Arelion. But I suppose your anger is understandable. I should first tell you that I have acknowledged you. On Eo, that is. The whole planet knows that you're the legitimate Supreme Leader, as affirmed by an archmagus. Your position has been secure for five hours now."

"Thank you very much," Arelion says coldly. "Unnecessary, but appreciated."

"Well, the issue had been raised," Yomeran says. "I found it better to put it to rest for good. Thank you for saving the slaves on Sprenk. I've been watching you."

"Watching, but not helping," Arelion points out. "We heard nothing from you after the Sprenk thing."

The archmagus scratches his beard. "I don't remember having promised that I would somehow appear to repeat my statements, or put your mind at rest that I was really going to do that which I indicated I would. I am here now, and even that is more than I promised. All my obligations have been fulfilled."

I pull Arelion's arm. "If we hadn't gone to Sprenk, we wouldn't have found out about Tara or Xap Station. It was actually a big help."

"Oh, Arelion!" Yomeran says with a grin, "you have gone and gotten engaged to a woman with a working brain! That will be such a fine addition to your life. Congratulations, by the way. And as I told you, Maeve, I can only sympathize. Being married to this blue narcissist would take its toll on anyone. But if anyone can do it, you can."

I take hold of Arelion's arm with both hands. "Thanks. It won't be as hard as you think. I wonder if you may have helped us more than we will ever know."

Yomeran chuckles. "Keep wondering. I must maintain some degree of mystery. By the way, good work on destroying that Xap Station. It was a terrible den of slavers and repressors. The galaxy is a better place without it and its inhabitants. It was a much better use of your terrible bombs than what they were really made for. Never regret what you did there!"

Arelion puts his arm around me and squeezes. "We agree about that, at least. Those antimatter warheads were meant as a last resort, but they came in handy as a pure offensive weapon. So where should we go? Eo isn't the best place, you said?"

The archmagus smiles at me. "Maeve, you're now engaged to the Supreme Leader of Eo. How do you feel about a state wedding, with thousands of admiring Eoans in attendance, planetwide broadcasts of the ceremony, recording your every move for all eternity, and then sitting through smarmy, fake intimate interviews with catty reporters for months after?"

I feel my knees go weak from horror, and the room spins around me. I didn't think of that when I said ‘yes'. "Fuck!"

Yomeran grins. "That was what I suspected. You see, Arelion is the most popular leader Eo has ever had. Things will take on a momentum of their own the moment you land there. Perhaps it would be better if you are already married when you arrive?"

Arelion shrugs. "Well… I wouldn't mind a public ceremony. But my bride decides." He lifts me up and kisses me on the mouth. "But I want it done as soon as possible. Can you arrange something, Archmagus? You said the Fire Mages are out of the wedding business, but perhaps you can be persuaded to perform one last ceremony?"

"Perhaps," Yomeran says. "On your base, the Gigori thing. See you there. Exactly one day from now." He's suddenly gone, like a candle being blown out.

"All right," Arelion says. "Set a course for Gigori, please, Tara."

"Yeah…" she hesitates. " Where is that, exactly?"

- - -

M y jumpsuit no longer exists, having been blown up by the double antimatter explosion that removed Xap Station from the galaxy. And the Bululg don't keep clothes in their ships. So I'm stuck in only panties and bra all the way through hyperspace to Gigori.

Arelion can only take about an hour of it before he drags me out of the control room, his crotch twitching like crazy.

He pins me to the wall in one of the other rooms. "I love you."

I look up at him. "I love you, too. And I love that you came after me."

"I Marked you," he growls. "Nothing else in the universe existed. Only you."

"I never knew you were that serious about it. But I love that you are." I need him now, so I undo the fastening of his pants.

He kisses my wrist where I cut the skin open to extract the warhead. "My love is a warrior." He pulls my bra off and cups both breasts, none too gently.

I plunge my hand into his pants and grab hold of his hardness, my moves marked by the same need as his. "We're both warriors."

"Good. We still have a war to win. We'll chase the Bululg off Earth. Soon." He pulls my panties down my hips and lets them drop.

Jumping onto him, I cling to his neck. "I know. They have no idea who they're messing with."

He positions his cock at my entrance. "Oh, I think they do. They're running scared now."

I lower myself onto him, all the way in one smooth move. I'm so wet for him it's almost painless, except for a bit of a burn that immediately turns into the start of a climax. "Scared of you! "

He grunts as he bottoms out in me. "Oh no, my love. They're scared of us. "

- - -

" I do," I state firmly. My voice echoes from the walls of the common room inside Gigori.

It's not how I ever imagined my wedding: inside a hollow asteroid, with mostly aliens in attendance, wearing a military battle suit and having a lion-like alien magician officiate. But now, I wouldn't want it any other way. Any way is fine, when getting married to Arelion.

"Then by the Interspatial Arcane powers of the Fire Mages, I pronounce you husband and wife," Archmagus Yomeran declares. "I don't need to admonish you to stay together, because neither of you know when or how to give up. That is as it should be. Now you owe it to the galaxy that produced you both to have many offspring. I think that was it… yes, we're done. Turn around and receive the well-wishes of your friends. Oh, and some couples like to kiss about now."

Arelion puts one giant hand on the side of my head and kisses me tenderly. "I actually always like to kiss you." His eyes shine.

"I know," I reply. "And I think you always should."

He kisses me again, making a little show of it for the guests. He obviously enjoys being the center of attention.

There aren't that many of them here in the common room of Gigori, which suits me fine. Peroena is here, and Virlu and Sponz and Cerak. Some of Arelion's closest allies on Eo managed to get here in time. And Tara is here, which makes me happy.

She comes over to me. "Congratulations, Maeve! I never thought this would end with one of us married!"

"I'm as surprised as anyone," I sniffle as we hug tightly. "I would be perfectly fine just having survived this long."

"He's incredible," she says. "And he's a valuable ally."

I laugh through tears. "Always thinking of Earth, Tara. Yeah, you're right. He has to get his own planet fixed first, but then he'll be looking for another project."

Virlu lumbers up to me. "A wife is a woman who is married to a spouse, typically a legally recognized union or partnership." He wipes moved tears from his big eyes.

"Thank you, Virlu," I say as I embrace his furry body. "That means a lot."

A specter of colors flashes past. " Take good care of him, Maeve. He looks like he loves only himself, but he loves his friends more. And you most of all."

"Yes, Sponz," I promise. "He's safe with me."

The archmagus comes over, robes flapping. "Sorry about the events at Xap Station. It got a little bit out of hand. But as I said the first time we met, I had to introduce more uncertainty elsewhere. I couldn't wait any longer without serious repercussions for the whole galaxy."

"It's all right," I tell him. "It ended well. Maybe get your entertainment in a safer way next time?"

He thinks about it. "No, I like this way. Goodbye." He's gone again. And, I can't help thinking, hopefully for good.

Cerak rolls over, back to his trash can shape. "They say I should congratulate you. Although the void knows why. I can't imagine a worse fate than being tied to that blue giant for life."

"But you stayed with him voluntarily," I point out. "He can't be that bad."

"He's not. Sorry, I'm trying to learn how male organics deal with their friends, which appears to be a mix of insulting them and risking their lives for them. It's very confusing for a simple battlebot like me."

"I think that would confuse anyone," I admit. "Me included. Thanks for helping us on Xap Station. I never knew you could turn yourself into a war machine!"

He sighs. "I was made as a battlebot, but I thought I had retired from that. Even Arelion didn't know. He believed my story about being a faulty trash can robot, and I had settled into that life. But I couldn't just watch Buroteo and his cronies get their way. Well done on blowing up that place. It was a hive of evil."

Peroena comes over, looking so stunning I'm sure there must be a law against it. She looks down on me. "So you caught Arelion. I have to warn you that many women on Eo are not going to love that."

"I thought so," I tell her. "I'm trying to think of a way I won't have to go to your planet, but I want to be with him. And he has to go."

"He does, and so do you. There will be some intrigue, but there's no need for you to get caught up in that. Just stay with him. He has eyes for nobody but you."

"He will be busy in the time ahead," I ponder. "Setting things right on Eo."

"Most things were set right the moment we realized that Buroteo's army was nowhere to be seen," Peroena says. "The planet is all Arelion's now. It's the first time I've seen the entire planet rapt in happiness. The celebrations are still going on. You'll see it for yourself. It will be intense. But you don't have to worry. When Arelion had to choose between his whole planet and his love, he chose you . Not a bad foundation for a marriage!"

I spontaneously embrace the Eoan general. "Thank you," I sniffle. "You've been a good friend to him and to me for as long as I've known you."

Arelion saunters over. "Two warrior women talking and plotting. I should probably break it up."

Peroena laughs. "Oh, we haven't started to plot, Supremacy. But don't worry; we will. Maeve, you will be a great success on Eo. I think you both chose wisely."

We all sit down for a meal of the fanciest foods we can find in the military crates that are left. It's not exactly gourmet fare, but I don't care at all. I'm married to Arelion. That's all that matters right now.

I adjust the ribbon that Tara tied around my upper arm, stating that a bride has to wear something that's white. There was no time to find a bouquet of flowers, but I'm okay with this event being less ostentatious than what I expect from most of the things we will experience on Eo.

Arelion glances down on me. "How soon can we leave this party?"

"I don't think anyone's going to hold us back if we try," I tell him. "Everyone knows that newly married couples want a lot of time alone."

"Great." He immediately stands up. "Dear friends! Thank you for celebrating our wedding with Maeve and me. We're both very grateful and honored to see you all. You all look wonderful, too. Not as wonderful as the bride, but that's not possible anyway. But still, our job here is done. We're married, and that's honestly all you can expect from us. We, on the other hand, expect you all to enjoy yourselves for many hours still. Maeve and I have important marriage things to attend to, very mysterious and complicated duties that those of you who are unmarried will have no clue about. We will see you all tomorrow for the return to Eo!"

The guests applaud and cheer. Arelion scoops me into his arms and lifts me over his head like a trophy, carrying me through the room and only lowering me so we can get through the door.

Out in the tunnel, he still carries me, and I'm fine with that.

"What a nice wedding we had," I muse as he carries me towards the gallery section. "Guests and everything."

"Too small a celebration for that vital event," Arelion disagrees. "I wanted more colors, more party, more sounds. More lights! But the important parts were perfect. And I'd happily get married in a cold, dark cave infested with venomous terepits if it meant getting married to you ."

The sincerity in his voice makes me well up. I was never much of a crybaby before, but I guess he thawed me out. "I know, my love. And I would, too."

"You'd probably prefer it," he chuckles as we enter the huge spiraled art gallery. "We're different in some ways, you and I. But they say that's the best way. Now hold on to me."

I cling to his front while he unfolds his huge, colorful wings and beats them powerfully. My stomach goes light as we soar into the air in the middle of the giant spiral.

He takes us up, then back down in a gentle glide. "I've flown a lot in here since I found it. It's usually not possible to fly inside a spaceship or a station. The only places I've flown for real are here and on Eo."

"And inside Maranar Labs," I remind him, loosening my grip on him because I know he'll never let me fall. "But there, you had to so we wouldn't fall to our deaths."

"Flying because I have to is different from flying because I love it," he replies. "You don't know what you're missing, being born without wings."

"I'll take your word for it," I tell him. "I wonder if our offspring will have wings."

"Oh, they will. Eoan genes are very strong. They will have big, beautiful wings and soar like this. " He beats his wings, and we rise fast to the top of the gallery.

"I'm fine not having wings," I assure him, "as long as you will take me flying like this sometimes."

"Just let me know," he says as he dives straight down, folding his wings until we're so close to the ground I squeal.

"I will," I assure him, my voice shaky. "Um... it might be a while until next time I ask."

He aims for the spiraled walkway high up and takes us there with four beats of his wings. "That's fine. It shouldn't be so often that it loses its thrill."

He sets us down beside a sculpture that looks like a heap of geometric figures, each the size of a microwave oven. There are cubes and balls and pyramids and octahedrons and cones and many more. Each has a different color, and it all looks like some kind of huge teaching aid for a geometry class.

I gingerly touch a green cube with one finger. It's soft and smooth, as if made from some kind of marshmallowy material. "Is this art, or are they just cushions?"

Arelion scratches his chin. "I think it can be both. It keeps changing, but it's always the same figures just changing places. I have rested on top of it a few times, I must admit."

"It is inviting," I agree and sit on a yellow cube. "Is that why we left the party? So we can rest?"

"Call it what you want," my husband says and picks up a flat triangle, putting it in a new place as if he's rearranging the heap. "This is something I've wanted for a while."

I spot the bulge in his pants, today black rather than silver. In response, a hot surge goes through my pelvis.

"Does it have to do with art?" I ask.

He rearranges more shapes. "Sometimes it does. This time it definitely will."

I loosen my battle suit in strategic places. "I like the sound of that."

"Yes, you love art," he says, picking up more examples of geometry. "You're an expert. What can you tell me about this piece?"

"Oh, this is from the early pre-colonial ultra-expulsionist period," I make up. "You can tell from the way that it is."

Arelion nods, very seriously. "Ah. Yes, I thought so. It has an early look to it."

I roll around on the soft heap and point. "The circles symbolize eternity. The cubes symbolize… well, the opposite, of course. The triangles symbolize the shape of the galaxy."

"I thought the galaxy was a spiral," Arelion objects, pushing a hexagon into an open space on the heap.

"Yes, but the triangle symbolizes it." I sniff. "It's very obvious. Also, I didn't say which galaxy."

"That's true. You didn't. I was there, I heard you not say it."

"Exactly," I say, enjoying the sight of Arelion's massive muscles when he works to rearrange the shapes into something that's starting to resemble a platform. "Now, the balls are complicated. They don't actually symbolize anything."

"That's very disappointing," he says and holds up a soft ball three feet across. "Such laziness. Come on, ball! Symbolize something!"

"That doesn't help," I tell him as I kick off my boots. "If they symbolized something, they'd… explode!" I grab a big, soft ball with both arms and toss it at Arelion.

He yanks it out of the air and throws it straight up. "Yes, but that's not what an explosion is. An explosion is more like… this!" He catches the ball and throws it straight at me. It's soft, but so heavy that it knocks me backwards.

A part of me is astounded that I behave like this. When was the last time I was this playful and even made silly jokes with complete abandon? My life on Earth was so gray and serious, and it made me dour. It seems like only Arelion can crack me open like this. He does it just by being himself. And that means that I can be my self, too.

"Oh, so it's war you want," I grumble and fling a flat rectangle at him.

He comes over, grabs my ankles, and pulls me close to him. "No, I want peace. I'm a lover, not a fighter."

"You're a fighter pilot, " I accuse. "That's just as bad."

He shifts his grip and pulls the pants of my suit off me in one long move. "You're a pilot fighter, which is just… strange."

I reach over and snap off the fastenings of his black pants. "No, you're strange."

"No, you're strange." He helps me get my thick, semi-armored jacket off, leaving me in only underwear.

I pull his pants down and am rewarded with his big, wonderful alien cock breaking out with such ferocity the tip hits me on the chin. "Seriously, that is strange," I insist.

Arelion kicks his pants off his feet and looks down his body with obvious satisfaction. "I can actually see your point."

He grabs me and tosses me onto the heap he's made of the geometric figures. It's like a bed now, tall and soft and nearly flat on top, except for the tops of some big cones that stick up.

I grab one cone, hold it by the thin end, and hammer it on Arelion's head while he climbs up beside me. "Take that, alien!"

"Fine," he says as he easily takes the cone from me and puts it back. "That's an important part of this structure. You don't want it to collapse, do you?"

"It's art," I tell him. "It's supposed to collapse."

"You're the expert," he concedes as he gingerly grabs the edge of my new, white panties and pull them off me with his usual smooth motion. "To me, this is real art." He pushes my legs aside, dives down, and kisses around the lips of my pussy.

It immediately sets off hard tingles. I arch my back and groan with the sudden touch. "Ohh… you really like that part, huh…"

He takes his mouth off me and licks his way up to my chest, where we both cooperate to get my bra off.

He slides up until he's piercing me with those yellow eyes. "What I mean is that my wife is a work of art. All of her. And I am an art lover."

His cock is between us, hot and twitching, hard and scary.

"That means you love me ," I wheeze, ready for more. "Which is perfect, because I love you, too."

"And we're married," he says, squeezing my breasts and caressing the nipples. "Everything is lining up perfectly."