Monster Girl Sanctuary

Once news of the final results of Bonny's Game had proliferated, Vale was among the first to put in a request to be bred--which actually surprised me, though I wasn't certain I could articulate why. I had never really heard her say anything about having more children before, and we'd been having unconditional sex for a while now, though we started a bit later than I had with some of the others in town. After the death of her daughter, it was only natural that she needed some time and space to grieve.

The breeding days were over at this point, though. My insemination of Vale had happened a couple days prior, and it was certainly glorious. On this occasion, though, I was here to pick up the cloak she'd made for me, as I'd heard that it was ready at last. I walked in the door, expecting to find a randy MILF satyr, but that isn't what waited for me.

"You remind me of her, you know," she said to me, her voice husky and hoarse as she sipped a root tea from a clay goblet, staring blankly out the window. I could tell from the smell in the air that she had added a bit of wine to the mix as well.

"Of who?" I asked, smiling, trying to pep up the mood. I could tell she was in a delicate state. Sometimes she was fine, without a care in the world, or so she would have you believe. On other days she was quieter. More vulnerable--more fragile.

"Silver Moon," she said.

I was so silent when her name came up that you could hear a cricket hiccup. I was still standing, lingering by the door, expecting this to be a quick in-and-out pickup appointment. I knew better by that time. She had my cloak--even now I could see it draped over a hanging rack, shimmering blue, catching the light of the mid-morning sun sublimely--Vale's incredible handiwork.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, her voice low and deep. "I don't know why I'm bringing it up. It still hurts. Every fucking day."

I swallowed hard, feeling the pangs of guilt wash over me. "I'm the one who's sorry," I said. "I didn't get there fast enough. If I were outside just a few minutes earlier--"

But she waved a hand and clicked her teeth at me. "I'm not bringing it up because I blame you. I don't even blame Darkmaw, and it was her damn wolves that did it--nor do I blame the wood elves that carelessly drove the wolves toward Tater Town."

"Who do you blame, then?" I asked. It was a stupid question. The wrong question, but it's what came out of my mouth.

"I've never been one to hold grudges," she said, almost a whisper, swishing her goblet. Her shoulders tensed as though she were about to burst. "We live in a world with monsters and demons, but here in Tater Town we are relatively safe from all of that--thanks to you. I don't begrudge any of you for it in the least. You, Darkmaw, and the wood elves were all doing your part, trying to keep these lands safe, and keep evil out of our homes." But then she inhaled deep, finally letting out a raw sob that echoed in the room and crushed my heart in a vise. "But why did everything have to go just wrong enough to cost me my daughter? Why, Bucky?!"

She fell from her chair onto the floor, shattering the goblet and spilling her beverage all over the stone tile, and I immediately ran over to her and knelt down beside where she lay. Vale wasn't a large woman. She had the illusion of stature that came with a bit of age and confidence in oneself, but she was short, about five feet and four inches tall, and as I picked her up and cradled her tight against my chest, I realized just how light she was--how frail. She'd lost some weight, I was certain, and I didn't think it was because she was minding her already incredible physique.

"I can't even imagine it," I said as I tangled my nose up in her hair, pressing my lips against the side of her face. "I can't begin to understand how you've suffered."

"It's so lonely," she cried, kneading her hands in my shaggy tresses. "Every day is so fucking lonely. Heather is in the fields all the time, and each night she comes home later and later, and I always... I worry, what if it happened to her, too?! What if I lost Heather? She doesn't even talk to me!"

"That won't happen," I said. "You won't lose her. Don't even think about that. It's natural to have those thoughts, but don't let them control you." I let her sob against my chest, staining my tunic with her tears, lightly brushing strands of her hair out of her swollen eyes with my fingers. "I'll do the best I can to keep you all safe. So that this never happens again."

"But that's all you can do, Bucky. Just the best you can. And what if the best you can do doesn't save Heather?" she looked at me pointedly. "I--What if you let her die, too?"

I closed my eyes. Those words hurt more than any wound I'd ever suffered since coming to this world. I smelled the bitter wine on her breath, and I knew by now that that was what was spurring her words, but it didn't make them feel less true to know that. Those words were already a dramatic flip flop from what she said just a moment before when she promised she held no ill will toward me. At least that's how it sounded to me in that moment.

"I can handle your anger," I told her, kissing her on the forehead. She didn't resist. "All I can promise at this point is that nothing matters more to me than keeping all of you safe."

She sobbed a snotty, heavy sob, looking away from me. "Oh, gods, Bucky, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Part of you did," I said. "And that's fine."

Vale shook her beautiful head. "You don't deserve that," she said. "You're a good young man, Bucky. I'm proud to have you as the protector of my town," and she rubbed her belly. "And the father of my next daughter."

"I know that a new baby can never replace the one you lost," I pressed on. "At most it'll be a happy distraction from the pain, and a new love. Wounds from losses like that one don't heal. You just get stronger. And you're already so strong, Vale. I'm proud of you, too." I cupped her face in my hands. "To that part of you that blames me--I get it. I feel the exact same way. Yes, I know it wasn't all my fault, but I have the same doubts, the same gnawing questions. What if I got there sooner? I ask myself that every single time I hear her name or see your face."

"Will you be a father to our daughter?" she asked. The question made me make something of a surprised face. "Mercer never was very involved. He preferred to leave the parenting to me. He'd whittle toys for the girls every once in a while. On their birthdays he'd swing by and say something, maybe play with them for a little while. But he had his marked women, and they were everything to him. He didn't have any love left over for me or my girls."

I laughed, pulling her in tight, readjusting our seating postures. "The reason I reacted visibly when you asked that is because the concept of not being a father to my daughters is such an insane idea to me that I had to reflect it in my face somehow. Yes," I said, "I will do my best to be a part of the lives of every one of my daughters. And although it's true that the girls I came here with, and Sprinkle, are the ones I'm closest to, I won't pick favorites when it comes to my children."

"If you pick my daughter as your favorite, that would be fine," she giggled through a sniffle. I laughed back.

"We'll see," I said. And then I paused, wanting to press further, suddenly curious. "Can I ask about Darkmaw?" I said.

She looked back up at me, her eyes misty still. "What do you want to know?"

“Tell me about the first time you met her,” I said.

She nodded, closing her eyes as though to conjure up the memory from the ether. I felt her fingers curl as her hand rested against the side of my leg, and it tickled pleasantly. “It was the night Silver Moon died,” she said. “She was the first one who told me.”

I actually gasped. “That’s another failure of mine, then,” I said.

But she shook her head. “As I heard it, you were in pretty bad shape. It makes no sense to scold yourself for that, too.”

“Still, I--”

“Shhh,” she said, putting her finger on my lips and smiling weakly. “We had almost no one on patrol back then, before you came. When you got here, that changed. Ivy is always on watch, and she trades shifts with other girls in town, but back then, Darkmaw slipped through the shadows and crawled through my window.”

“Holy fuck,” I grunted. “That must have been terrifying.”

“It was!” she said, though she was almost smiling, a faint curl on her lips. “I knew who she was by reputation, and I was expecting her to kidnap me or worse, but do you know what she said?”

I shook my head, captivated.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she started, “That was the first thing. I had no idea what she was talking about... so she told me everything. Then she told me she would take care of me and Heather for the rest of our lives, that we were part of her pack now, and that we couldn’t tell anyone about that until the time was right. I think it's fine now.”

I took a deep breath, just nodding. I could sense she wasn’t done.

She took a breath and gazed back out the window, up at bird singing from atop a branch just outside. “She visited me every week after that. She brought gifts--gems, animal pelts, even things like berries she’d foraged for us on her way to see me. I didn’t tell Heather anything, though, but she started to notice the offerings after a while.”

“How does it feel to see her?” I asked.

“At first I hated her. She explained everything, and I rejected her offerings, but she delivered them every week nonetheless. ‘Discard them as you will. This is my duty.’” She imitated Darkmaw’s voice a bit with that line, and it made me chuckle.

“That’s exactly what she sounds like,” I said, stroking Vale's hair.

She smiled. “I’ve been practicing. Anyway, after a while, I started thanking her. And then, some time later, we started chatting. She told me a lot about her wolves, for instance.”

I winced. “I’ve killed a lot of them,” I noted with a sudden surge of worry knotting my gut.

She shook her head, though. “It’s her General Feat,” she explained. “Every wolf slain is reborn the next night. They just… like, pop up somewhere in her den.”

That was shocking enough, but for some reason it never occurred to me that Darkmaw had a den. “I should find that den,” I said, nodding.

She flashed me a fearful look, with eyes wide and worried. “Don’t hurt her,” she said. “Promise me. She’s a good woman. She’s just got more complex allegiances than the rest of us.”

“I know,” I said. “I don’t have any plan to kill her at this point. But she knows so much about us, thanks to you,” I chuckled, raising an eyebrow at her. She blushed a bit at that. “I’d like to know a bit more about her.”

We sat in silence on her floor for some time, looking at each other, smiles returning gradually to both our faces. “I’m sorry for making such a mess in front of you,” she said through a warm blush, gesturing at the spilled drink that soaked into the floor. “You came for the cloak.”

She got up, and then I stood next. Vale walked over to the hanging rack and took the cape off of it. It was a brilliant blue and seemed to glimmer and sparkle with magical radiance. She grinned as she admired her own handiwork. “Etherea’s charms have really made this piece priceless. It’s my best work,” she said, handing it over to me.

I had to agree. She made great clothes, but this was something singularly special. I threw the cloak over my shoulders and immediately felt a burning sensation growing inside me--in a good way.

“What does it do?” I asked.

“Repels fire, and it allows you to vanish for a short period of time.”

I blinked. “Vanish?” I said. “Like, go invisible?”

“Exactly. But holding a weapon, magical item, or running fast will usually break the enchantment. You may also be detected if you allow an enemy to get too close to you while facing your direction.”

I nodded, grinning. “Very nice,” I said. “Now I can sneak here at night and watch you undress in secret.”

“There’s an open invitation to you for things of that nature,” she grinned back with a heady tone.

I leaned forward, throwing my arms around her, pulling her in for one more embrace. I kissed her on her forehead and told her, “I’m really glad we talked today.”

“Me, too,” she agreed. “But you need to go. Bonny and Sprinkle are waiting for you.”

“Yes,” I said, pulling back from the hug and stretching my muscles. “Gonna be a long one.”

“It always is with those two,” she giggled.

She was right about that.