Archive of Our Own ^beta

For the most part, Erhardt liked his crew.  Tressa was absolutely brilliant in the engine room and her ‘enhancements' had their ship running better than any other in the fleet.  Cyrus somehow managed to talk them out of the most fraught sociopolitical situations through being completely charming and utterly dense. Alfyn concocted amazingly progressive medicines to deal with foreign and exotic diseases that they came across in their travels, and H’aanit proved invaluable when dealing with new and potentially hostile environments.  Hell, he even put up with Leon, a reformed space pirate, being the pilot--at least he knew that his helmsman was capable. There was really only one personality conflict.

Olberic.

Erhardt wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill the man or bang him, but either way, outside of purely professional and high-stress situations where they worked surprisingly well together, Erhardt could barely stand him.  Erhardt felt that Olberic had a stick so far up his ass that he was surprised Olberic could even walk, which was probably what had them paired--Erhardt was sure that people thought Olberic could act as a ‘grounding’ influence on Erhardt.  

Erhardt would, after a few drinks, grudgingly admit that maybe they were sort of right, since Olberic usually pissed Erhardt off enough that Erhardt simmered until his initial impulse faded and he came to the conclusion that maybe his plan hadn’t been the best.  It would have worked , but it simply wasn’t the ideal way to approach the situation.

So, when a group returned from what should have been a simple exploratory away mission on a mostly-uninhabited planet without Olberic, Erhardt was surprised at the intensity of his concern over his First Officer’s absence. They had made sure to choose a location far from the only settlement they could find on the planet, so there should have been no trouble.

"Where is Olberic?" he asked, giving the away team's clothing and appearance a once-over. Their attire was festive, if a bit crude and made by hands clearly unused to their kind of form.

The away team all exchanged slightly nervous looks before Eliza stepped forward and said, "We ran into a bit of trouble with the natives of the planet and to...resolve our differences...Olberic participated in a duel."

“A duel,” Erhardt repeated, incredulous.

“Yes.”

"From your clothes, it doesn’t seem like he lost," Erhardt commented. 

"He didn’t," Eliza confirmed. "However, in winning he…"

Erhardt didn't like how they all looked slightly guilty. "Spit it out. Please."

"By winning the duel, he became the ruler of the planet."

After a beat of silence, Erhardt hissed, " What ?"

"As we couldn’t just leave the planet ruler-less we had to leave him behind after he granted us clemency and allowed us to return here to try to explain the situation and find a way to extricate him without there being merely a succession of us becoming the planetary ruler and him ending up dead," one of the junior crew-members, Miles, said without pausing for breath.

“And why would he end up dead?” Erhardt prompted.

“The ruler is chosen by strength of arms," Eliza clarified.  "If the king is challenged to a duel, the one who wins--who kills their opponent--is the ruler.”

"Olberic actually killed someone?" Erhardt said, incredulous. "I know he can be a bit metaphorically trigger-happy on occasion, but, from my experience with him, he would never kill someone."

"No, he tried to spare the native. They committed suicide in the face of defeat."

Erhardt rubbed his temples. "Damn. I am not leaving him there. But, how do I get him out?"

He'd probably have an idea , Erhardt thought.  Shit .

"Kidnap him?" Tressa offered as she checked to make sure that the transporters hadn’t brought back anything interesting along with the crew. 

"No, that would just cause more trouble, which we’re trying to avoid," Erhardt responded as he wracked his brain.  Come on, Erhardt, you can figure this out. What would you do if it were anyone else?

"Maybe threaten war?" Alfyn said as he collected the foreign clothes from the crew and put them in a contamination bag for analysis of pathogens.  “‘If you don’t give Olberic back to us, we’ll waste you’ kind of thing?”

"That would just entrench him more, because you know Olberic and his damned honor would keep him there to protect them," Erhardt replied.

"Offer them terms of surrender as a  way to avoid the threatened war," Leon said from the doorway. "You'll go to war with them and wipe them off the face of the cosmos unless…"

"Unless they agree to form a beneficial political alliance with us--with you in particular," Ophilia said, looking way too excited for Erhardt's sanity. 

"Meaning…oh. No.  No, I refuse," Erhardt said, catching on to Ophilia's suggestion. 

"It will keep there from being any bloodshed and you will have gained a new people for the Alliance," Ophilia pointed out. "And if they are traditional enough to take the winner of a duel as the rightful ruler, there is no way that they won't recognize or understand a political marriage."

After a pause, Leon cackled. 

"I--but--no!  Absolutely not," Erhardt protested. "I am not marrying Olberic."

"As long as you hold off having sex until he has the time to establish a regent or something to rule in his absence, Ophilia can grant you an annulment," Leon said. "Problem solved."

"I am not going to have sex with Olberic, either!" Erhardt snapped. "No, this is--" Erhardt grimaced, took a deep breath, then sighed heavily. "I don’t want to leave him down there any longer than necessary given what you've told me. If he gets challenged and loses, he'll die, right?"

"Most likely," Eliza replied. 

"Fine. Ophilia is not wrong. Political marriages were made all the time and are still are in some cultures. Showing these people that we can wipe the floor with them and then saying that the only way to prevent it is by having me, hng , marry Olberic and keep him with me to ensure their obedience is a legitimate way of solving this problem."

"Huh, wouldn’t’ve even thought of the last bit," Alfyn said.

"Which is why I'm captain and you're not," Erhardt said absently as he tried to not focus on the fact that he'd be marrying Olberic to get the man out of trouble. "Fine. Let's get moving, I don’t want him to die."

Erhardt didn’t entirely understand the look Leon and Ophilia shared as he stalked out of the transporter room, and decided it was probably best for his sanity if he didn't. 

--

Central Command had been about as thrilled as Erhardt was at the prospect of him marrying his subordinate. However, once provided with a detailed debrief, courtesy of the report from the away team, Erhardt could at least make a case for it, based on the circumstances and after promising that he and Olberic wouldn’t stay married.  Command was going to send another team over that would be able to handle the diplomatic situation in a more permanent way, but Erhardt was cleared to follow through with his plan and hope to God it worked. 

First, to be intimidating as hell , Erhardt thought as Leon slowly guided their vessel into the atmosphere and over the city where Olberic hopefully lived. At least I'm going to enjoy this bit.

It hurt a little, how low the native’s technological prowess was--honest-to-God arrows pinged off of the hull of the ship as they hovered, and it seemed that they still fought with metal swords, which, admittedly, made Erhardt wonder just how Olberic had won the duel.  Duels. 

Whatever .

“Is there anything we can destroy and not do undue damage?” Erhardt asked as he surveyed the castle environs through the viewscreen.

“We can blast a hole in the ground in front of the castle,” Leon said.  “Scanners say that nothing is living in the stone and God knows that it will make a statement.”

“Then do just that,” Erhardt said. "And make it flashy."

“Right.”  Leon pressed a few buttons, and Erhardt watched as a low-power pulse of energy hit exactly at the base of the staircase leading up to the castle proper, which sent debris flying--it was fine enough powder that no one was hurt, and was quite impressive.  

“Can you either project my voice or display a hologram of me where they can see me?” Erhardt asked.

“Voice is easier,” Leon said.  “Cyrus has access to what we can use as a speaker system.”

Erhardt walked over to Cyrus, who picked out a small microphone-looking device and handed it to Erhardt.

“How far does the universal translator project?” he asked Cyrus.

“The people in the castle should be able to understand,” Cyrus replied.  “Admittedly, I picked up what was recorded on the communication links regarding what the natives said and ran them all through a program, so you should be projecting in their native language and hopefully make sense.  If not, well, we’ll end up sounding really close.”

“Thanks,” Erhardt said before compulsively straightening his posture and announcing, “If you do not bring your ruler out to meet us now, we will destroy your entire city.”

“Awfully harsh, sir,” Cyrus said as Erhardt returned the microphone.

“It’ll get a response,” Erhardt said with a shrug.  

And a part of me really, really wants to, Erhardt admitted to himself and walked back to Leon. It is still so weird, thinking that my First Officer is the ruler of an entire god-damned planet and that I have to marry him to get him out of this situation. Whenever he does get into trouble, he gets into Trouble . 

“Stay here for fifteen minutes.  If no one arrives, blast another hole,” Erhardt said and stood next to Leon’s chair, watching the display.

At the thirteen-minute mark, a group of five exited the castle. 

Three were what Erhardt would classify as crocodilian in nature, bulky, heavily armored, and carried pike-like weapons with ease.  While they were bipedal, their form seemed to imply that they would be equally comfortable on all fours. The fourth had serpentine features and a lithe build with four arms, although armored and carrying two swords crossed across its back as it slithered towards them, its torso upright, although with no visible legs.  The fifth was the stockiest and shortest of the bunch, as well as the most heavily armored, the dark gray, interlocking plates reflecting the light of the planet’s star; no face was visible, covered instead by a draconic-visaged helmet. They carried a single broadsword sheathed at their hip.  Something about their build was just... different , though.  The way they walked, the way they positioned their arms, it wasn’t like the others.

Olberic, maybe ? Erhardt thought.  I suppose I’ll find out soon enough .

The group walked around the sinkhole the ship’s weapon had made, some of the rocks still smoking, until they were on the opposite side from the castle.  Upon stopping, the being who Erhardt hoped was Olberic gestured imperiously to the ground before him. 

He’s inviting us down , Erhardt thought. 

“Who’s willing to--” Erhardt snorted at how Eliza, Cyrus, H’aanit and Z’aanta--and their animal bond-partners, Linde and Hagen--were awaiting him.  “Right. Let’s go.” 

Erhardt took the offered blaster from Leon and walked to the transportation room, the rest falling in behind him.

“Z’aanta, please behaven,” H’aanit said as they walked.

“I shalle,” Z’aanta responded with a quick smile, although Hagen sneezed to express his disbelief.

“Oh, I hope everything goes okay,” Cyrus murmured.

“We’ll be fine, as long as it’s Olberic calling the shots,” Eliza said.  “He managed to intercept and stop quite a few feasting rituals that even just thinking about makes me a little queasy.”

This is going to be all sorts of fun, I can tell already , Erhardt thought.  Once they reached the teleportation room, Tressa gave them all an encouraging smile before beaming them down to the surface.

The gravity was a little stronger than Earth’s, but not unbearable or different enough to cause discomfort. The climate was humid and the air smelled slightly metallic. Up close, it was obvious that the fifth person, the one standing ringed by natives, was Olberic.  Olberic's armor was meant to make him appear more like one of the natives than human, which Erhardt understood--no need to publicize that their prior ruler had been defeated by someone from off-world--but there was no denying that Olberic’s body was just put together differently.

"Your strength is greater than ours," the serpentine being said, moving in front of Olberic, the posture clearly both possessive and aggressive. "Why do you come here?"

Erhardt looked to Cyrus and nodded. If they were going to have someone speak on Olberic's behalf, it would likely be good to return the favor and thus indicate Erhardt’s importance among the group.

"Our strength is indeed greater than yours," Cyrus responded in an oddly cheerful tone as he moved in front of Erhardt. "And we are not afraid to utilize it. But we did not initially come to your home as enemies."

The locals tensed and shifted into an attack stance, but a subtle gesture from Olberic brought them all back to neutral. 

"Then why do you come here?" the one who stood in front of Olberic repeated. 

"We come to offer you a deal," Cyrus said, his posture open and guileless. "And I strongly suggest you consider it, as we could quite easily wipe you off the face of the cosmos if we choose to."

The silence was thoughtful and less hostile than before.

Well, threats work extremely well, and I do not mind being threatening , Erhardt thought. 

"What is your deal?" the 'diplomat' of the group asked.

"Do you have houses who join themselves together to grow stronger?" Cyrus asked.

“Of course.  The strength of two is more than one.”

“Then our deal is this,” Cyrus said.  “Give us your strongest,” Cyrus gestured to Olberic, “and we shall join him with ours.  You will then have our strength, and we shall have yours.”

The three guards around Olberic bristled.

“We have no proof that he is your strongest,” the serpentine one said and pointed a finger at Erhardt, who gave them the smirk that infuriated so many of Erhardt’s superiors.

“He commands the weapon above us,” Cyrus said, voice pleasant.  “Would you give control of death to the one who wasn’t the strongest?”

“Prove it,” the serpentine challenged.  

Erhardt had feared that such would be asked, so Erhardt turned to the commlink in his jacket and murmured, “Leon?”

“Yeah?” was the reply.

“Based on the reports I received, these guys only respond to lethal force.  Is that weapon that you and I lobbied hard to get taken off the ship still present?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Hate to ask you, but use it on one of the crocodile-looking ones.”

A sigh came from the other side as Erhardt said, louder, “As you have challenged, so we deliver.”

A millisecond later, one of the crocodiles exploded in armor and viscera.  

The locals all flinched, but none turned to look because Olberic did not look.

“...you have proven your strength,” the serpentine being said, looking somehow abashed and sulky at once.

After another pause, Olberic finally spoke, his voice oddly modulated and cold, even if Erhardt was certain it was Olberic: “Your offer has merit and we will benefit from your strength.  We will consider it and return to you with either a counter offer or decision on the morrow.” 

“Provide us with an answer now ,” Erhardt snarled to hide his discomfort.  He had never heard Olberic sound like that before, and deeply disliked it.

“Alliances must be agreed upon by the court as well as the king,” Olberic responded evenly.  “However, we will encourage a speedy resolution so your strength may be ours.”

He turned and walked between the two remaining crocodilian natives, although he did pause to say something in a low voice that Erhardt didn’t quite catch.  So, while one crocodilian followed him, the other turned and, in one fluid motion, pierced the serpentine one through with its pike.

The serpentine one didn’t seem necessarily surprised, but, rather, resigned, and the crocodilian one walked away with the pike--and impaled native--hanging over its shoulder, blood and body fluids dripping down both the weapon and onto the ground.

Did Olberic tell them to kill it? Erhardt thought.   I think we need to talk ourselves .

“Take us back up,” Erhardt murmured into the commlink.  The brief feeling of weightlessness consumed him before he found himself back in his ship.  He found that he was shaking slightly from epinephrine, and Cyrus in particular looked worse for the wear.

“He is either an exceptional actor, or there is a whole lot more to Olberic than we ever thought,” Eliza said.

Erhardt shook his head sharply.  “He is playing a part to stay safe.  These people understand ruthlessness, violence. It’s merely a way of asserting his strength so that we can retrieve him.”

“I have seene that humans doen what they must to surviven,” Z’aanta agreed.  “Even if it hurteth their soul.”

“It was still...disconcerting,” Cyrus said delicately.  

“Are all hostage negotiations that short?” Erhardt asked.

“Well, it was quite brief for a hostage negotiation, but marriage proposals always seem to be much shorter.  The local beings also don’t seem to be the kind to mince words, and the brevity was probably meant to ensure that the longest amount of time could be spent arguing before tomorrow.  Granted, tomorrow isn’t that far away,” Cyrus said.  

“I still don’t like leaving him there.  A lot can happen in a few hours. How long can we hover in-atmosphere?” Erhardt asked Tressa.

Tressa considered the question and said, “Want to be close enough to move fast in case something goes down, Captain?”

“Yes.”

“I mean, we could probably just land and they won’t bother us.  If we maintain shields and make it obvious that coming close to us is dangerous, they probably won’t test their luck.  It’s also not like they even have remotely the tech required to duplicate this stuff,” she finished and patted the transport control panel for emphasis.

Erhardt ran his fingers through his hair.  “Well, threats work, and us being there is probably the most potent, visible threat we can make.  Land us, put up the shields, and get some people from security to stand watch; they have permission to stun.   Let’s see what they get back to us with.”

Tomorrow can't come soon enough, Erhardt thought as he went to find work to keep his mind off of what could be happening to Olberic while they waited.  However, his pace slowed down as he approached the bridge.

Wait a second, he thought as he replayed the meeting in his head.  He said yes.  Holy hell. Olberic already agreed to marry me--he said all he has to do is convince the court.  Damn. But...I thought he could barely stand me. Why would he agree immediately to do something like marry me?  Maybe just out of survival?  I know I would take whatever out I could to get back to my ship and crew, including marrying him.  To do it so casually and almost matter-of-factly, though…

Erhardt ran his fingers through his hair again and picked up his normal walking speed again.  God, my life is weird sometimes.  

--

Olberic did not meet them the next morning; instead, a mixed group of crocodilians, serpentine, lacertian, and draconic beings approached them at the edge of the sinkhole.

“Ready?” Erhardt asked the same group as the previous day.

“Letten us hopen they have decided to returnen Olberic to us,” H’aanit murmured before they were all teleported down.

“Your king chooses to hide from us today?” Cyrus asked upon the groups meeting.  

Erhardt felt it was better that Cyrus did the talking, since all Erhardt would do was bulldoze the conversation to get to Olberic, which likely wouldn’t help matters. 'Take us to your leader' sounded incredibly cliche, too.

“Our king does not feel it worth his time to meet you here himself, so we will take you to him,” the lone draconic-looking being said.  “He has secured your safety--you will not be harmed.”

That is a very peculiar phrase, and I don’t like the implications of it, given what we saw yesterday and the brief from the away team , Erhardt thought.  

“We are to trust you?” Cyrus asked.

“Your strength is greater than ours, and his strength is greater than ours.  You will not come to harm.”

Cyrus looked back to Erhardt, who nodded.  Nevertheless, Eliza took up rear guard, Z’aanta, H’aanit, and their bonded-companions arranged themselves on either side of Erhardt, and Cyrus fell back to walk beside Erhardt.  Cyrus was useless in a physical fight, so hiding behind Erhardt or among the others was his best chance at staying alive, should things go south.

The stairs were stone and the height was just enough to be slightly uncomfortable, but Erhardt told himself it was simply a mild workout--he’d live.  Cyrus was doing worse than the rest of them when they finally hit the top landing, but knew that any sign of weakness would be pounced on, so did his best to look as serene as possible.  

The castle’s entrance room was severe, dark, and utilitarian.  Odd grooves existed in the walls, ceiling, and floor, which Erhardt figured made sense, since not all of the locals--probably even most--were comfortable standing upright.  It seemed like being able to walk on two legs was almost a sign of prestige; Erhardt was well aware that it was a feat of balance and that it had its evolutionary disadvantages.  

The most common were crocodilian-type, followed by lacertian ones.  Serpentine were rarer, and Erhardt saw only one other draconic type as they were led through the narrow, twisting halls.  He was glad they had Hagen--Z’aanta’s bonded would be able to show them the way out if they were deliberately turned around.  

When they finally reached the ‘throne room,’  Cyrus’s breath hitched, which Erhardt completely understood.  If the rest of the ‘palace’ exterior had been bleak, the throne room was a thing of beauty.  

Brilliant tile mosaics lined the walls, forming pictures and shapes Erhardt didn't understand; nevertheless, the artistry was masterful.  Water flowed beneath their feet, visible through stone as clear as glass. Plants hung from the ceiling and grew in vines up columns. Exotic blooms and life burst forth, as strange--and likely poisonous, venomous, or both--insects scurried about the room, chased by unfamiliar small animals.  It seemed as if they had stepped outside, as the ceiling was made of the same clear stone, which let in a deluge of light. ‘Furniture’ was placed strategically around the room, and the temperature itself had risen by a few degrees. The far wall was also made of the glass-rock, and looked out upon the mountain range that ringed the valley that provided a safe haven for the inhabitants. There was a dais near the back of the room, and the stairs that led up to the flat surface glittered in the light, gold, blues, greens, and silver spreading out in a halo around it.  What was clearly a temporary throne--removable, and probably the kind provided for a draconic ruler, if Erhardt judged the typical anatomy of them correctly--was placed in the middle of the dais. It was unoccupied, the person who should have been sitting in it instead standing and looking out the back wall, his back to them, posture impeccable. To the locals who filed in around them, the stance must have come off as arrogant.   

I am not afraid , Erhardt translated.  Although you can feel free to try to harm me, you will not succeed .

Olberic wasn’t clad in the armor he had worn the previous day, but looked just as regal.  A blue surcoat fell to just below his knees, and what Erhard could see of Olberic’s legs seemed to be almost scaled themselves in dark black scales; however, the way they glimmered in the light was too metallic, betraying armor instead of organic matter.  Olberic’s feet were covered in solid black boots. The broadsword he had worn the previous day was still strapped to his waist, and one hand rested lightly on it, which allowed Erhardt to see that his arms were covered in the same fine scale mail as his legs.  

“Sire--” the draconian being began.

“I heard you enter,” Olberic cut in, but didn’t turn.  His voice somehow carried, even though he hadn’t spoken loudly.  Erhardt saw Hagen’s hackles raise and Linde crouched low to the ground in a still, stalking stance from the dismissive cruelty in the tone.  “The court saw merit in your offer,” he continued. “We will join your strength with ours. But, how are we to know that you will not merely claim me and then destroy us all once I am yours?”

Erhardt did not like the phrasing of that sentence, although couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

“As you will be part of the Alliance, we would like to establish an embassy,” Cyrus said.  “This would allow you to communicate with our people and for us to lend you our strength more easily and reliably,” Cyrus said.  “We will not harm our own.”

“You would seek to rule us?”

“No.  You will rule yourselves.  We will simply expect you to lend us your strength when we ask, and we will lend you ours, should you ask--within reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Olberic repeated, still not turning.  “Killik. Saathsa, Cereth. Stay. The rest of you--I’m sure you have other things to do than stare at our...visitors .”

The room cleared of all the locals except for the draconian, one serpentine, and one lacertian.

“Killik will negotiate the terms of military arrangements between the Alliance and us.”  The draconian being nodded, indicating who Olberic spoke of. “Saathsa will discuss with you how our people will enter and interact with the Alliance politically and socioeconomically.”  The serpentine one bowed slightly. “I’m sure Command is sending someone here. These two will be your point of contact. I have told the guards that Cyrus and Erhardt are allowed to travel freely within the castle and that, should anyone take issue with that, they can...discuss...matters with me.”

“And you?” Erhardt demanded.

Olberic looked over his shoulder a little and Erhardt cursed inwardly at the draconic mask that covered his face.  “We are to discuss our marriage, you, Cereth, and I.”

After a small pause, Olberic said, “Killik and Saathsa will see the rest of the landing party out.  You will stay here with me.”

“I will not leave my crew.”

“This is a private matter and it will be discussed privately,” Olberic said, his voice harsh and final.  “And my patience and mercy only extend so far. Alert us when Command arrives with their own diplomats and politicians, and I shall put them in contact with mine.  Leave.”

Everyone in the party except Erhardt wasn’t given much choice in the matter, and were shepherded out the door by Killik and Saathsa.  Erhardt saw three crocodilian guards bring up the rear and start marching them down the hall and out of Erhardt’s sight, leaving him alone with Olberic and Cereth--the remaining, lacertian local.

“Cereth, watch the door,” Olberic said.

Cereth nodded after giving Erhardt an unblinking once-over and stationed themself by the door.

Olberic turned fully to face Erhardt, and Erhardt barely kept himself from startling at how the front of Olberic’s surcoat was stained more dark-red than blue, and small coins--probably crests--slowly worked their way down the left breast of the coat.  The mask was black, and the hammered horns swept back into points that formed a sort of crown, pale stones set along them, the largest at the base and smallest at the tip of each.

Olberic strode confidently down the dais and came to a stop halfway to Erhardt.  

“The court has agreed that my strength should be yours as long as your strength is mine,” Olberic said, his voice low and quiet as life moved among the plants, returning after being scared away by the visitors, his tone far different and more familiar than when they had had an audience.  “It did not take much convincing. They understand that I will be traveling with you--as I am the less powerful in our future relationship, I do as you desire. I will be required to check in periodically and prove that I am still...worthy...of being king, and it is requested that you observe my trials, so that you may know that your mate is an asset to your strength.”

“I know your strength already--you don’t have to prove it,” Erhardt said.  

“I am aware,” Olberic responded, and Erhardt heard the smallest bit of exhaustion in the three words.  “You offered to join your strength with ours. We accept. The ceremony is set for two days from now. I doubt the diplomats will get here in time, but it will be easier if they arrive when we are already married.  Cereth will be performing the ceremony. Explain it to him.”

The final command wasn’t directed at Erhardt, but at the lacertian native who stood guard.  The native's gaze shifted to focus on Erhardt.

“I do not understand how you are the strongest,” they said in a raspy voice.  “But it was proven. It is a simple ceremony, although yours will be even further abridged, as the court agreed that it would be unseemly for His Highness to debase himself to you in public.  Therefore, by blood you shall be bound in public--by life you will be bound later, in private.”

Oh, I do not like the sound of this , Erhardt thought.  “Could you clarify what you mean?”

Cereth was sullenly silent before Olberic said, his voice dark and dangerous, “That was not an explanation, Cereth.  Provide my future mate with more information. Or would you like to take your chances and defy me? Your lover wasn’t successful and they were the far better warrior.”

Cereth tasted the air and tilted their head enough to show a lighter, looser patch of flesh right below their jaw before returning to neutral.  “Your will is mine.”

“As it should be.”

Cereth turned back to Erhardt.  “The Bonding ceremony is simple.  Your blood will be his, and his will be yours.  We will cut each of your forearms deep enough for your to bleed freely, and you shall clasp hands.  Your blood shall mingle, and we will collect the runoff so you may share it together later. Normally this is done until one of the participants lose consciousness, and thus the greater and lesser are established.  You will not be doing that, as His Highness is already the lesser between your Alliance and our people, and we would prefer he be able to face down any threat to us. Therefore, we will collect but a small amount of your blood before allowing your...doctor...to heal the cuts.”  

After an unhappy pause, Cereth continued:  “In most ceremonies, the exchange of life also occurs, but we will not have the public know that their ruler is the lesser so visibly.  There are a few other details that are being skipped due to your sensibilities, so the blessing of your own priest will follow and the feast after that.  We would have you join us, but you are the greater and, thus, can choose whether or not you will attend.”

It’s official, I do not like this at all , Erhardt thought.  

Nevertheless, Erhardt nodded.  “Your explanation was much more useful this time.”

“As it should have been the first,” Olberic said, a warning in his voice.  “Leave us. I would speak with Erhardt alone.”

Cereth did an odd sort of nod before fixing Erhardt with a cold stare and leaving.

“Could you close the door, Erhardt?” Olberic asked once the sound of Cereth's movements had diminished to nothing.  “I really do want this to be a private conversation.”

Erhardt took a quick look out the door--no one--then ducked back in and pulled the doors shut along with him.  

“Olberic, what the hell is going on?” Erhardt asked and walked across the room as Olberic pulled off the mask.

Olberic looked exhausted .  His brown eyes were dull, and poor sleep was clear in the dark circles around his eyes.  A wound across his forehead had scabbed over, although dried blood still clung to his face.  “I didn’t want anyone in our group to die and I didn’t want to die, so when challenged to a duel, I took the opportunity,” Olberic said once Erhardt stood about a yard away from him.  “The Vessharji don’t know how to deal with someone my size and...tactical prowess, I suppose. I just...hate how many of them have thrown themselves at me expecting to win and don’t. I initially spared them, but it was horrible to see them commit suicide in the face of their loss, so I learned the easiest way to avoid fights was to simply...kill the challenger.”  Olberic looked at the mask. “It’s why they gave me this mask. The ones that look like dragons--oddly enough named Dra’kka--are what could be considered elite from how few are hatched.”

“Olberic...” Erhard said and put his hand on the clean shoulder of Olberic’s surcoat.  “We’ll get you out of this, get you back on the ship, and then you can forget about all this bullshit until the Alliance has drummed it into their heads that determining the ruler by who is the strongest survivor is, well, basically barbaric.”

“To the Vessharji, it is more honorable to have died trying than to willingly submit,” Olberic sighed.  

“I do have a question about this whole marriage between us,” Erhardt said.  “The blood part was fairly explicit. But I’m getting a feeling that exchange of life is--”

“The second part of the ceremony is sex, yes,” Olberic said.  “You have sex in front of friends and family members so they are witnesses to the full union.  Marriage is sort of a permanent deal here, and most Vessharji don’t get married because it is far too much of a commitment and permanently establishes quite a few things about each individual.”

“I am not going to do that to you,” Erhardt said firmly.  “We’ll do the blood thing and Ophilia is going to run through the vows, but we won’t have sex.  That way we can get an annulment in the eyes of our government and you’ll always and only be your own person in theirs.”

Olberic gave Erhardt a weary smile.  “I merely have to survive two more days.”

“Yes.  Then you can come up to the ship with me, and the diplomats can figure everything else out.”

“With a little bit of my help,” Olberic said and ran his gloved fingers through his hair, a brief, agonized expression flashing across his face.  “Well, no mind. It gives me time to find a regent to run things in my absence. I already have a few ideas as to whom may prove capable and trustworthy, although I know that there will likely be a high turnover rate.”

“Olberic…" Erhardt began, then sighed.  "I'm sorry I put you in harm's way. We thought we dropped you off somewhere that no one would find you so you all would be able to explore a little and come back up with vegetation and soil samples, maybe accidentally a few animals.  We didn’t expect... this .”

“I know,” Olberic said, his expression softening as he looked at Erhardt’s hand on his (Olberic’s) shoulder.  Olberic reached across his body and gently placed his own hand over Erhardt’s. “I…"

The uncertainty that flashed across Olberic's face was uncharacteristic, so Erhardt said, "You know you can speak freely with me; I promise I'll only argue a little with you right now."

Olberic smiled wryly, and, after a moment, spoke: "Marrying you under these circumstances feels a little...cheap, I suppose."

Erhardt frowned sharply. "Cheap?" 

"Before all this, I…" Olberic sighed softly. "I was actually contemplating asking you to date me, regardless of being well aware that our positions in the hierarchy would have never allowed it.  You’d either be taking advantage of my junior position or I’d be trying to influence you and advance by sleeping with you. Still, it has been a pleasant daydream of mine for some time now. This situation bypasses all of that."

Erhardt stared at Olberic.  “You...what? But...is that why you agreed so easily to marrying me yesterday?  Because you wanted to date me anyway? I was convinced that you hated me.”

“I hate when you’re a pig-headed moron,” Olberic drawled.  “But I don’t hate you .”

Erhardt found himself in the very odd position of feeling flustered.  “Oh.”

A strange, almost anticipatory silence fell between them. 

"You...see me as more than just the captain you were assigned to, who you have to suffer through until you have a ship of your own?" Erhardt asked. Oddly, he liked the idea that Olberic saw him as more than just his superior officer, even if he would have never guessed that in ten thousand years.  Olberic was exceptionally good at keeping his own counsel.

"Yes," was the quiet reply. 

Erhardt had no clue what to say to that, so simply caught Olberic's eyes and said, "We'll get you out of this as soon as possible, I promise."

A look Erhardt couldn’t quite interpret flashed in Olberic's eyes before he said, "We can’t talk any longer.”  Olberic let his hand fall away from Erhardt’s and shrugged off Erhardt’s grip as he put the mask back on. He strode confidently to the doors. “I’ll help you find the way out and then you can ask to be beamed back aboard.  It would create issues if you did so from here."

Erhardt walked up to Olberic and caught Olberic’s bicep before he could open the doors. “Olberic, why?”

“‘Why’ what?”

Why didn’t you tell me you liked me?  Why did you agree to a duel? Why do you willfully stay here?  Why...do you not hate me, after all the bullshit we put each other through on a regular basis?  Why do you , of all people, want to date me ?

“Why can’t you just leave ?  I’m sure these people are smart enough to establish a new ruler on their own.  What if a ruler dies of natural causes?” Erhardt said instead.

“In the course of their history, there has not been a recorded case of a ruler dying of natural causes,” Olberic said.  “There is no line of succession, no established noble lines. Literally anyone can be king if they are strong enough.  Without anyone to measure their strength against, there would be a bloodbath until only a few remained standing--I refuse to be the reason why a civilization is wiped out before it can truly get off the ground.”

“Then let me stay with you.  As your future mate, don’t I deserve to know something about your life, your rulership, your people?”

“I would rather that you not be challenged to duels as well for the right of being my mate.  It’s safer for you on the ship,” Olberic replied.

"You think I can't handle myself in a fight?" Erhardt asked, miffed.

"It's not that," Olberic said. "Did you ever take fencing lessons of any kind? Ever held a live sword? I know you can handle yourself expertly in hand-to-hand and a firefight and am always glad to have you at my back in such situations.  Those two skills, unfortunately, won’t help you here."

“I was on the fencing team in college,” Erhardt said.

“That’s not the same,” Olberic said, a familiar annoyance entering his voice that nearly made Erhardt smile .

“How the hell do you know how to duel with swords, anyway?” Erhardt asked.  “It’s not something that people casually learn as a part of everyday life--at least, not humans.”

“I was a...bit of a problem child,” Olberic hedged.  “Learning various weapons kept me occupied.”

“ You ?” Erhardt said, incredulous.  “A problem child? How?”  

Olberic pulled his arm out of Erhardt’ grip.  “It’s an extremely long story. I’ll see you in two days, assuming that I keep my reign for that long.”

“Olberic, I’m not leaving you alone down here.”

“Erhardt, I’ll be fine .”

“I don’t want you to have to kill anyone else.”

“It is what it is.”

“It doesn’t mean it has to be that way!”

“For now, it does.”

“Do you enjoy this or something?”

“No!” Olberic snapped, and Erhardt couldn’t quash a smile.  

“Or is it that you like being the ruler of an entire planet?” Erhardt asked.

“Oh my god, Erhardt, no!  Central Command has already tried to promote me three times already and I’ve declined every time--does that make you think I would want something like this ?”

“Wait, what ?”

“If you think I already work too hard now as First Officer, just imagine how much worse I’d be as a Captain.”

Erhardt blinked.  “You’d...you’d do exactly what you’re doing now.  Protect as many people as you can, even at the expense of your own health and sanity--and you’re worried about both our crew and these people.  Have you had anything to eat or drink at all?”

“If I boil the water, I feel comfortable drinking it,” Olberic said, partially dodging the question.

“So, then, you haven’t eaten?” Erhardt pressed.  “I’m sure that I can have rations delivered to you.  I’m not going to have you starve down here.”

“Erhardt.”

“I refuse to let you win this argument.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to argue with me?”

“I said I was going to argue with you only a little,” Erhardt responded.

“The more that you do for me, the weaker they’ll think I am, which means more will challenge me.  So, if you don’t want me to continue to have to kill people to maintain my rule, you’ll leave me down here and you’ll leave me be.  Please , Erhardt. I promise that I will meet you at the bottom of the steps in two days.”

“Why not just have a shotgun wedding?” Erhardt said.  “I’m sure we can be scary enough with our giant weapons that they might actually, I don’t know, get aroused by it.”

“ Erhardt .”

“You know I’m not lying.”

“Fine.  Assume that you are terrifying enough for them to bend and we do get married now,” Olberic said.  “Do you honestly think that will stop the challengers?  Do you know why there’s a two day delay?”

“So you can get hurt more ?” Erhardt drawled.

Erhardt was oddly cheered by the frustrated sound that escaped Olberic.  “No, sir .  I need to settle on a regent, I have to set up avenues of communication, I have to--just as I’m sure you’ll be dealing with a thousand logistical issues before the diplomats show up, I have to do all those, too, and I have to do it mostly alone .”

“Shouldn’t you have advisors?” Erhardt said.

“Being king here is to stand alone and stand above all,” Olberic said.  “The only support I have is my sword--and my mate. If he would just listen and trust me. Or is that it, Erhardt?  Do you not trust me?”

Erhardt scowled.  “Trust you? Of fucking course I trust you!  I wouldn’t let you lead away missions into unknown territory if I didn’t trust you.”

“Then do so now!” Olberic half-snarled.  “I am a survivor , Erhardt.  You should know that better than anyone.  You and I are two of only a handful of survivors after the Hornburg colony was destroyed in the last war.  We rose the ranks together, and you…”

Olberic sighed.  “You let me help you.  Help you move past your anger and sorrow.  You trusted me then, when you were at your darkest.  Trust me now, Erhardt. Please.”

A sad silence fell, which was only broken once Erhardt gave a heavy sigh and said, “Very well.  I expect to meet you at the bottom of the palace steps in two days for our wedding.”

“I shall,” Olberic said and pushed open the doors.  “Come with me. I’m sure the crew is becoming anxious at your continued absence.”

--

Erhardt was relieved to discover that Olberic had indeed survived when he was at the base of the stairs to greet Erhardt on the day of their marriage.  He was in a different armor, a gold scale mail that glittered in the starlight, the surcoat a dark green, the mask the same golden color as the mail with dark green stones set in the same pattern as the other he had seen Olberic wear, and the broadsword was still strapped to his waist.  The only odd detail was that there was a tie on Olberic’s right-hand wrist and the mail looked a little looser. 

Probably so his inner forearm to be exposed for the...marriage ceremony.  God, it is so strange, thinking that I’m getting married, let alone married to him when he confessed that he wants to date me, that he sees me as more than just his captain.  Erhardt gave Olberic a thoughtful look.  If he did ask me to go out with him, what would I have done?

Erhardt had spent the past two days being productive to keep his mind off of a number of details surrounding his approaching nuptials.  It was much easier to focus on the logistics of establishing an embassy, from communication to food supply, than Olberic’s pseudo-confession and the confusing, conflicting emotions it invoked in Erhardt himself.  The past two nights had been...not awkward, per se , but certainly proved less restful than Erhardt had hoped.  Once Olberic had told him that he saw Erhardt as more than just his captain, Erhardt’s subconscious had trawled Erhardt’s memories to figure out how he (Erhardt) had missed something like that.  Erhardt prided himself on being fairly observant--he had to be in order to act as a good captain--so that he had somehow not cottoned on to a detail that significant was intriguing and frustrating.  Naturally, his brain didn’t stop at trying to put together the pieces, but also happily explored where the result of that realization might go .

Erhardt had never been more grateful for a private shower.

All of Erhardt’s determinedly focused productivity had it so that they could immediately leave the moment the embassy was established and Olberic was back on board for good.  Erhardt never wanted to see the stupid backwater planet ever again and planned on avoid the entire quadrant until or unless Olberic was forced to return.  He had tried to visit Olberic and speak to him privately in the castle, but the Vessharji had proved... resistant to his attempts.  He had caught sight of Olberic once, even if he did now know the stupid maze of a palace’s layout fairly well due to his attempts.  It was oddly possessive, how the Vessharji kept Olberic from him. Still, his wanderings had at least shown him that there was a strong, subtle, functional artistry to most of what the Vessharji made and used; even if he could never appreciate it, it was at least heartening to see.  

Erhardt had a bad habit of making snap-judgements that got him in trouble and he only backed down in the face of overwhelming evidence out of pride.

To Erhardt’s relief, there was a cheerful atmosphere and the air buzzed with festive anticipation, although there were more shades and sizes and types of reptile than Erhardt had ever seen before.  It was intimidating, fascinating, and just flat-out weird. The ceremony was to occur outside, since that was the only way that all the public who wanted to witness it could.  

“You holding up?” Erhardt asked softly.

“As well as can be expected,” Olberic replied, sounding even wearier than when they had last spoken.

At least it looks like no one has challenged him today, Erhardt thought, giving Olberic’s surcoat a quick, critical once-over for signs of blood.  I doubt I can reasonably hope that no one has bothered him over the past two days, though.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Erhardt asked.  On a whim, he offered Olberic his hand.  

Olberic didn’t even hesitate, carefully intertwining his fingers with Erhardt’s; the dark leather of Olberic’s glove stood out starkly against the dress uniform white of Erhardt’s.

“Yes, let’s,” Olberic said, although Erhardt could detect a hint of sadness in Olberic’s tone.

They ascended the steps together, and Erhardt quickly stole another look at Olberic.  He was a bright, gleaming figure, and moved with a stately assuredness that Erhardt distantly envied.  It was only because he was holding Olberic’s hand that he could feel the man shaking, and his grip was the kind of firm that came from an unconscious need for support on multiple levels.

This is almost over, Erhardt thought as he turned away from Olberic to face forward.  And then...what?

Ophilia and Cereth were waiting at the top, Ophilia giving the ceremonial--but still sharp--special dagger and bowl cradled in Cereth’s hands a look of extreme distaste.  Ophilia would be performing the second part of the ceremony, the human one, and they had scrounged up rings from somewhere--probably from a rather shady recruit named Therion, and Erhardt had no desire to know how he had gotten them--as everyone was pretty sure that kissing would be out of the question; thus, rings.  Alfyn was attending to make sure neither Erhardt nor Olberic passed out from hypovolemia.  

There was a small, extra bowl beside the larger one and Erhardt covertly nudged Olberic.

“It is an antibacterial, slightly numbing, anticoagulant paste made from local flora,” Olberic explained in a resonant whisper that made Erhardt’s skin prickle.  “It also ensures that there is a scar upon the body healing. Alfyn has already tested the ingredients for toxicity and found none, although Cereth was quite insulted by the insinuation that he would do anything so underhanded as poison us in an attempt to kill us.”

“Wonderful,” Erhardt grumbled as they came to a halt in front of what was serving as an altar.

Erhardt kept his expression neutral, but it was a close thing--Olberic hadn’t let go of his hand, which meant that he (Olberic) was worn far more thin than he let on.

There has to have been a better way to extract Olberic, Erhardt thought as he half-listened to the beginning of the Vessharji ceremony.  He shouldn’t have to do this when he...when he cares for me in a way that this is actually meaningful to him.  This isn’t fair to him, even if it does dodge a whole lot of needless bloodshed and pain.

Erhardt cautiously gave Olberic’s hand a gentle squeeze, hoping that it would provide some reassurance. 

As Erhardt had suspected, partway through the Vessharji ceremony, the scale mail was rolled back from Olberic’s forearm, exposing the very human, flesh-toned appendage, his glove removed as well.  It was almost disorienting, considering what the rest of Olberic looked like. Erhardt had to let go of Olberic’s hand so he could remove the dress uniform glove and jacket to expose his own arm, and missed the warmth and strength of Olberic’s grip far more acutely than he thought he should.  He handed off the clothing to Ophilia, who gave it to Alfyn.

Olberic shifted so he stood across from Erhardt, the altar and bowl between them.  Cereth said a few words that Erhardt ignored as the paste was applied to his own skin, and Erhardt was impressed at how well it worked- -slightly numbing was misleading, as he could barely feel that particular patch on his arm a minute or so after it was applied.  He was dreading the blood-letting portion so much that he was surprised at how quickly it arrived. A long gash was cut in Olberic’s arm, red blood welling up from the wound, and Erhardt’s own arm was opened not long after that.  Olberic quickly clasped Erhardt’s arm to his own and held them both over the bowl that was placed on the altar. Their blood flowed down to their wrists, then dripped into a small goblet-like container within the bowl itself. Once it was about an eighth of the way filled, Alfyn stepped in and closed the wounds as easily as they had been opened, his movements the swift and sure born from anger.  

Erhardt didn’t feel woozy, per se , but he did feel a little strange as Ophilia briskly ran through the vows.  He didn’t even remember replying, instead finding himself intensely focused on the myriad of tiny cuts that littered Olberic’s forearm, each a bright, angry red half-moon.

What exactly has been happening to him? Erhardt wondered.  And will he ever tell me even half of it?

The ring on Erhardt’s finger felt much heavier than it had when he had just been holding it.

A roar went up from the crowd, probably because the public assumed that there was an equality in the relationship or, at least, that their king was as strong as the strongest of the people who came from the sky.

“I’ll take my leave as soon as I can,” Olberic said as he was handed the goblet and the dagger by Cereth, who promptly vanished into the throng, clearly wishing to spend as little time as possible in Erhardt and his crew’s company.  “Here. Hold on to these for me. It’s safer.”

Erhardt nodded and took the two artifacts from Olberic, the scent of blood strong in the air.  

“Come back with me now,” Erhardt said. 

Olberic shook his head slowly.  “Don’t worry. I’ll be with you all soon.”

“Then if you won’t come with me, I should stay with you as your new mate,” Erhardt insisted.

“It’s better that you don’t,” Olberic responded firmly.

“We’re never supposed to split up during away missions, and I’ve been bad about following that protocol,” Erhardt said.  “Unless there’s something against me attending the wedding feast?”

Olberic sighed heavily.  “No, there isn’t. But...please, Erhardt, for me?  This is going to be my last official function as king here for quite some time, and they need to see that I’m still strong even after being bound to you.”

“If I claim that I want to finish the ceremony and you have to come with me, will they let you go?” Erhardt asked.  

The question hung oddly between them, and Erhardt caught himself wondering what it would be like to remove Olberic’s armor to expose more of the very human flesh beneath.

Olberic shifted on his feet and said, “Perhaps they would.  They would certainly understand you wanting to assert your... rights .  But they would expect us to actually have sex, and since I have to return here anyway, they’d probably be able to smell whether or not we actually did.”

And us not having sex is the easiest way out of this ‘marriage’, Erhardt thought as he struggled with a surprisingly large amount of disappointment.  “True.”

“I will take care of matters as quickly as possible here,” Olberic said and secured his mail sleeve and slipped back on his glove, his entire demeanor changing as he did so.  “If I’m lucky there will only be a few challengers, and they’ll move onto exhibition matches and the feast itself in short order,” he continued, his voice finding the cold, unforgiving edge that he usually used around the natives.  “I promise you, Erhardt, I’ll be with you all as soon as I possibly can.”

Erhardt was surprised at how much he resented the all in Olberic’s final statement. 

“There’s nothing I can do to convince you to leave these people behind?” Erhardt asked.

Olberic slowly shook his head, but lightly took both Erhardt’s hands in his, holding them with a tenderness that nearly had Erhardt blushing .  “Unfortunately, until the Alliance changes how they view succession and rulership, I’m bound by certain traditions and expectations.  I swear, though. The minute they don’t care about my presence, I will leave.”

“You better,” Erhardt replied.  “I refuse to be a widower the same day I am married.”

“You won’t be,” Olberic said as he ran a thumb lightly along Erhardt’s knuckles, the leather rasping against his skin.  “I promise.”

Holy hell, we’re actually both taking this thing seriously when it wasn’t meant to be a serious or permanent thing, Erhardt thought, his heart promptly finding itself in his throat.  

Olberic let go of Erhardt’s hands and the weightlessness of teleportation enveloped Erhardt before he found himself back in the ship.

“That was so creepy,” Ophilia murmured as Alfyn asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Erhardt said firmly, even though he really, really wasn’t.  What was supposed to be meaningless seemed to have gained meaning somewhere along the way, and that was distinctly uncomfortable.

“As soon as Olberic is here, I will make sure to annul the arrangement,” Ophilia said firmly.

“Thank you,” Erhardt said.  “Olberic is going to need you, Ophilia.  He’s gone through some extreme things down there, and will need someone trained to listen and help with trauma.  Alfyn, be on hand to help, too, since I don’t know the kind of injuries he’s been suffering without adequate medical care--and I know he has to be injured somehow.  As for me, I’m going to be in my quarters if anyone needs me, since I will probably only get in the way and irritate people until Olberic is back onboard.  Send Leon to me if you can.” Leon was very good at keeping his mouth shut, and Erhardt needed someone to rant to who wouldn’t let anything private slip.

“Got it, boss,” Alfyn said.

“Before I leave, take these. I don’t want them,” Erhardt said handed over to Alfyn the goblet and dagger.  “And they probably should be tested anyway. I don’t want to die mysteriously because of something seemingly minor.”

“I’ll probably have medicine made up just to prevent any kind of new and nasty bacterial infection,” Alfyn said.

“Great.  You know how to find me if you need me.”

With that, Erhardt turned on his heel and made his way briskly towards his quarters.

I don’t feel married, Erhardt thought as he looked at the ring on his finger.  And yet, it was so easy to say it.  To call Olberic my mate and to imply that, should he die, that I would have lost a spouse.

Erhardt found his way to his quarters, and promptly took off his ring.  However, he couldn’t quite shove it in a drawer like he had originally planned.  Instead, he found himself just looking at the ring.

It was a simple gold band--that was all.  If he wore it on any other finger, it would hold no significance besides being a piece of jewelry.  But he had said things, promised things, that were tied to the small piece of malleable precious metal that laid innocuously in his palm.  He was-- extremely deep down--a hopeless romantic, so even though his and Olbeirc’s marriage was supposed to be a marriage of convenience and annulled in short order, he felt like he would still have to say that he was once married to any future lover.  

Of course, we could always just stay married, Erhardt thought as he rolled the ring over in his palm.  There’s no real reason not to, aside from promising Central that I wouldn’t stay married to him, but they didn’t get anything in writing, so...

Erhardt shook his head and placed the ring firmly on his bedside table.  “No. I am not considering staying married to Olberic.  I forced him into this corner, and he probably hates it even more than I do because he...he actually wanted to date me, and going straight from friends--maybe?--to a married couple skips a whole lot of Important Steps.”

Erhardt dragged out the alcohol he bought while on shore leave for occasions such as being required to marry his first officer to prevent civil unrest and an endless chain of succession that would only ever end in pain, grabbed a glass for himself, and sat down heavily at his desk.

I did the right thing, he told himself as he poured himself a glass. 

Erhardt heard a knock at the door, so got up and opened it to reveal Leon on the other side.  Leon’s expression quickly shifted to one of concern and he carefully pushed Erhardt back into his room.

“Erhardt, what’s wrong?” Leon asked once the door was closed.

“What’s wrong ?” Erhardt repeated half-laughing as he sat back down.  “Leon, I just married my fucking First Officer . Who apparently sees me as more than just his captain and was upset we were getting married only because he had wanted to date me first before anything remotely like marriage came into the picture.”

“What?” Leon said and sat down across from Erhardt.

Erhardt sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.  “I didn’t...I still can’t fathom how I didn’t see that he was attracted to me.  I keep on going through my memories over and over to try and find what I missed, but...he’s just so damn opaque. ”

“He keeps his emotions to himself mostly,” Leon agreed.  

“And I feel...that this whole situation isn’t fair, particularly for him .  He’s probably going to be dealing with emotional and physical fallout for years--all I have is some mild inconvenience and guilt.  I am literally suffering from nothing permanent if I don’t want to. This whole marriage thing can be over once he is back on the ship with just his signature.”  Erhardt sighed heavily. “It feels like I should...put him on shore leave to give him time to recover away from me and away from things that can potentially hold triggering memories, but, at the same time, I want to keep him close so that I can watch him and make sure he’s okay.  One of those is a Captain reaction and one of those is an Erhardt reaction, and both of them have merits but both are equally bad.”

“Okay, then,” Leon said slowly.  “You know Olberic better than I do.  How would he view being put on extended shore leave?”

Erhardt paused and tapped his fingers on the table.  “He’d understand why as First Officer. As Olberic? He’d probably--ah, fuck, no. What do I know?  I had no clue he was attracted to me, so clearly I don’t know him as well as I thought I did.  When he gets back here, he'll decide what he wants to do, whether it be shore leave, staying with us, or, I don't know, maybe even retirement. He has other skills, he doesn't have to go exploring. Any way, he is deciding his own fate."

"And if he chooses to stay?" Leon asked.

"Then he chooses to stay," Erhardt said, not quite understanding Leon's tone.  “It’d keep up morale, I’ve heard him unironically called dad by a few of the younger crew members, and he’s got the even keel that we need in a ship full of forceful personalities.”

“And if he wants to stay married to you?  What then?”

“I…” Erhardt started, and looked into his glass of alcohol.  “I don’t know, Leon. I mean, if I’m perfectly honest, I don’t think I’d mind it.”

“ What ?”

"I am still going to be a thousand different kinds of happy when we are away from thus mudball,” Erhardt muttered before taking a drink.  “The other teams have collected the samples that they want and Cyrus and the like are done their crash course on this planet’s culture?"

"Yes," Leon replied, accepting the change in topic.

"So we're waiting on the diplomats and Olberic. Who still has to stay down there until the diplomats arrive. To make sure they get settled and that no one tries to kill them."

"...yes."

Erhardt struggled with himself before snarling, "God damnit , I just want him away from whatever ‘feast’ they’re having.  I just know he’s probably getting hurt and it kills me that I left him down there.  I know it was better to listen to him, to respect his wishes--particularly since I more or less cornered him into our marriage--but, at the same time, he’s suffered enough. I know that staying with him would have endangered him or me or everything, but, still!"

Leon gave him a sad smile. "We all accept this job knowing that with the chance to explore, we may end up dead, captured, or worse."

"And being a captain means that I need to make peace with the fact that not everyone will come back intact mentally or physically," Erhardt sighed after taking another brisk shot. "I thought I had. I've written condolence letters based on previous missions. I’ve seen people return wounded and no longer fit for active service.  I’ve had people not come back at all. I suppose it just never dawned on me that Olberic could be one of those people."

"Why not?"

"I’m not sure," Erhardt admitted. "I suppose I figured he was too cautious to get in trouble. Instead, it turns out that he is some sort of master swordsman who can take down multiple opponents larger and probably physically stronger than him and do it for days ."

Silence drew out between them until Leon says, "What will you do if he asks to be put on an away mission again?"

"Argue with him and then send him down with an extra security person," Erhardt replied.  "I mean, he's clearly capable. I just don’t want him feeling like it's okay to be self-sacrificing now that he's already traumatized or some bullshit if they run into trouble again."

"You’d really let him go?"

"Well, yeah. Like I said, I'd argue like hell to get him to stay, but I'm his captain, not his mother, and he has skills that others don’t that might require him going down. Admittedly, I might also insist on going down myself to make sure, but it wouldn’t be good to have both high ranking members of the crew in danger."

“Erhardt…”

Erhardt and Leon sat in silence until Erhardt finished his glass and promptly poured himself another.  “Could you update me on the status of everything? Ship and crew? I may have been...distracted the past few days, and while I’ve been trying to keep tabs, I know I’ve missed some things.”

“Sure.”

Leon and logistics were a pleasant distraction before he received a message from Ophilia.

“Ophilia?” Erhardt answered carefully.

“Olberic is back on board, and is currently in the medical bay.  I would like to speak with you first before you go visit him. He isn’t gravely injured or dying, we just need to talk first.”

Damn.   

“Of course,” Erhardt said and stood.  “Where do you want to meet?”

“My office, please.”

“Very well.  I’ll be there shortly.”

“Just got a message myself that the diplomats came out of hyperspace,” Leon said and stood as well.  “I’ll take care of them.”

“Thanks,” Erhardt said and left his quarters a second after Leon.

After a walk brisk enough that it could be called a light jog, Erhardt knocked on Ophilia’s office door, which opened for him.  He stepped in and saw Ophilia with a cup of tea that was clearly not just tea sitting on her desk.  The fact that she was breaking one of her unofficial Rules of Conduct said something very potent and unnerving.

“You were right,” Ophilia said once Erhardt had taken a seat.  “Olberic is suffering from a great deal of mental and emotional strain as a result of his time down there.  To stay alive and retain his position, he had to kill over twenty challengers.”

“ What ?”

“He said he stopped counting after the first ten, but based on the number of medals he acquired on his surcoat, it was actually closer to thirty--assuming that each challenger had a crest, that is.  The number could possibly be higher.”

“God damnit, ” Erhardt snarled.  “I knew I should have stayed with him or gotten him to come with me today!  I bet he had more challengers today than any other time!”

“Imagine how much worse it would be if they had been given time to find the courage to challenge him.  The challenges would have come anyway, and probably in greater numbers, if what I’m getting a sense of is correct.  By the way, we’ll have one of them joining us as a probationary crew member. They seem curious, and one has to be around to attend to Olberic until he convinces them that they’re their own person.”

“Tell me it isn’t Cereth.”

“No, a young Dra'kka.  Cyrus and they are having a very extended conversation with Eliza.”

Erhardt ran his fingers through his hair.  “What can I do to help?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” Ophilia said sadly.  “Your signature here will help, though.”

Olberic’s name was already scrawled across the annulment paperwork, and Erhardt felt the smallest twinge of loss .  However, it was what Olberic had chosen to do, so Erhardt added his own signature.  

“Listen to him, though, if he speaks to you,” Ophilia said once he finished.  “Olberic trusts me, and gave me permission to discuss freely with you as his captain my analysis.  He needs rest, he needs space, he needs time to come to terms with what he was required to do to keep himself alive.  I’m going to require daily physical check-ups on him and have him under surveillance. He won’t kill himself, but he will likely be in a very low place for quite a few days once we get away from here.”

Erhardt wanted to swear a blue streak, but had to be at least slightly Captain-like.  “Right. I’ll try to find ways to keep his mind and hands occupied. Hopefully that will help a little bit. He likes responsibility and feeling useful.”

Ophilia nodded before taking a sip of her tea.  She looked as if she were about to speak, then decided against it and sighed instead.  “You’re right. Well…” her attention was distracted by her communication device flashing.  She pressed it and said, “Yes?”

“Ophilia, the Captain’s with you?” Alfyn’s voice said.

“He is.”

“Great.  Keep him there.”

Oh, well, that wasn’t ominous , Erhardt thought as he stood and kept the door to Ophilia’s room open so that the angry-sounding medic didn’t break down the door instead of knocking on it.

It didn’t take long for Alfyn to arrive, and once he had joined them in Ophilia’s office, Alfyn said, “He didn’t have clothes on beneath that armor, sir.”

Erhardt frowned sharply.  “Then--”

“Yes!  Every single link dug into his flesh when he moved.  His body is quite literally covered in tons of tiny cuts, none of which were correctly tended to since he was too scared to get out of the armor long enough to fully bathe, so he’s got a lovely bit of blood poisoning now to go along with dehydration, starvation, multiple bone fractures, and heavy bruising, although he somehow managed to avoid a concussion.”

Alfyn’s volume had slowly been rising the longer he spoke, and Erhardt completely agreed with the sentiment.  

“And you are getting your blood drawn, Captain, because there was something funky on that dagger or in the medicinal paste and while I know it isn’t anything lethal, I can’t really tell what it is and I need to make sure you don’t go septic, too.  Olberic doesn’t seem to be suffering due to the paste, but he’s also nearly delirious with pain and fever so I can’t be sure.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Erhardt said. 

Alfyn made a strangled noise of frustration before Erhardt said, “Speak freely.”

“God damnit !” Alfyn snapped.  “He’s in such pain and it kills me a bit to know it’s because we played by the rules.”

“What was our other option?  Raze the place, since he would have to die to get out of being a king and none of us would kill him?” Ophilia snapped.  “Imagine how Olberic would feel about that.”

“We could have forced their hands!  Made them move more quickly and get him back sooner!”

“Which may have just hastened his death!”

“None of us like this situation,” Erhardt said, his voice as calm as he could make it.  “I hate it as much as you do. But, now he is here and last I heard the diplomats have arrived, so we will leave as soon as we have a permanent embassy established.  Can I see him?”

The last question was directed at Alfyn, who nodded.  “He’s asleep right now, but you can see him, sure.”

“Thank you,” Erhardt said and stood.  “I trust all medical decisions to you two, since you are trained and skilled healers and I’m not.  I’d like to be kept in the loop, of course.”

“Sure,” Alfyn responded as Ophilia said, “Naturally.”

“You’ll find me in the med bay, and you can draw my blood then,” Erhardt said before he gave them both a polite nod and left Ophilia’s office.

After turning a few corners, he ducked into one of the general bathrooms and leaned heavily against the wall.

Never again, he thought as he rubbed his temples.  Never again am I letting you get hurt like this.  We’re going to have a talk when you are in a better place.

Once Erhardt was sure he had most of his emotions under control, he left the bathroom and walked to the medbay, dreading what he’d end up seeing.  

Olberic looked like he had aged a decade in the few days they were parted.  What had once been fully black hair now had three prominent streaks of gray, and a new scar cut across his forehead--probably from the wound Erhardt had seen two days prior.  His breathing was shallow and even, he clearly deeply asleep, and the machines hooked up to him proclaimed that everything was more-or-less okay. Erhardt walked over, dragged a chair with him and plunked himself in it next to Olberic.  

I’ll leave as soon as someone else is here, Erhardt decided.  I don’t know what I’d say, what I’d do if he woke up with me still here.  Things have become so strange between us so quickly.  I thought I knew him.

He settled back in the chair, listened to Olberic breathing, and brooded.

--

It took another four days to settle all remaining matters, but it helped that the diplomats who arrived were all from warrior-cultures, so quickly put any challengers in their place; with Olberic’s influence, there was no death, but just barely.  Erhardt made sure to stay close to Olberic whenever he was on-planet, which seemed to somehow please the Vessharji--Erhardt had no desire to know why.

Still, four days later, they were pulling away from the planet, contact fully established with ample security, and a Dra’kka with them to be dropped off at the Academy pending appropriate socialization and approval by Erhardt and his crew.  

It took another ‘day’ of travel for Olberic to finally approach Erhardt, since Erhardt had given him space once they were traveling again, even if it had killed him a little to do so.

“Do you have a moment, Captain?” Olberic asked, still looking distinctly exhausted, but his eyes were bright and alert again.

“Of course,” Erhardt immediately responded.

“Then may I speak with you in private?”

Erhardt couldn’t keep his curiosity from showing as he nodded.  They stepped into one of the ‘meeting’ rooms that were sprinkled throughout the ship and Olberic said, “I’ve been remiss in thanking you.”

“For what?” Erhardt asked.

“Rescuing me.”

“You didn’t think I would?”

“I wasn’t sure.  Everyone else had returned safely and--”

“I never leave anyone behind!  I’d most certainly never leave you behind!” Erhardt said.  “You should have known we’d figure out a way to get you back.”

“Even if you weren’t certain I was even still alive?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my First Officer!  You’re important to the crew! You keep me from strangling Leon and our arguments are useful!  I’d never leave you behind.”

“Even if it endangered the crew?”

“That is why we figured out the plan before going to rescue you,” Erhardt pointed out.  “I would never recklessly endanger the crew. You know that.”

“I do,” Olberic agreed.  “I suppose...as you were surprised when I told you I didn’t hate you, I was surprised that you cared enough about me to go so far out of your way to help me.  Far enough to even ask to marry me to ensure my retrieval.”

“Well, I...it wasn’t my plan initially.  Ophilia came up with it.”

“But, you agreed to it.”

“...I did.”

“And followed through with the plan.”

“Yes.”

"And you didn't seem…insincere during the ceremony.  Or, truthfully, since then and we’re not technically married any longer."

"True, but the Vessharji didn’t know that, so we had to keep up appearances for as long as you remained on planet. You know I don't do things by halves."

A peculiar smirk that made Erhardt's stomach do funny things formed on Olberic's face as he said, "Then I suppose you shouldn’t let the Vessharji marriage ritual go only half completed, should you?"

"It would be uncharacteristic of me, wouldn’t it?" Erhardt murmured, heat creeping into his cheeks and stomach.

 A wonderful kind of tension flowed between them that left Erhardt pleasantly breathless. 

You are not honestly considering having sex with your First Officer, are you?  Erhardt’s more reasonable side protested.  Just a few days you could hardly tolerate him and now you want that much intimacy with him?!

We weren’t married then, Erhard told himself before saying aloud: “We should make sure you’ve completely recovered first.  You’re still on antibiotics, aren’t you?”

“I am, yes.”

“Then, once you are cleared medically by Alfyn, we’ll see about our... completion,”  Erhardt said as he held Olberic’s eyes and smirked.

“I look forward to it,” Olberic murmured, his voice low and surprisingly heated as he never looked away.