"Hi, baby. How are you?"
Startled, (but not really) he peered up from the tortoise skull he was examinig and smiled to her. Devoting his ever wandering attention to his lover. âI am doing well my dear. I am glad to see you. Did you enjoy your latest trip?â
She smiles down at him, unsurprised to see him looking over some random artifact. âI did. Father says hello, by the way.â She moves around the side of the table and glances at the skull. âWhat exactly is that?â
âMm yes yes Hello to he as wellâ His eyes immediately falling back to the skull. âThis my love is a tortoise skull sent to me from China just recently. I am examining it to see how old it is.â
She laughs and shakes her head. âBecause thatâs something people just âsendâ to other people.â She rolls her eyes. âIâm not even human and I know thatâs weird. The answer youâre looking for is 647, by the way.â
A blink and he looked up at her form the magnifying glass. â647, you say? HmâŠfascinating! That means it was probably buried in the ocean for sometime..truth is I have a couple projects on the go. Iâve been thinking of writing a book, âLesser Known Facts: Viking Historyâ but I donât know if Master would approve..â He chewed his pencil, patting his lap for her.
She nods and slides into his lap. âMost likely. I doubt that species has many survivors walking around.â Pen tilts her head and shrugs. âI donât see why not. If he had the confidence you would do it justice, I think he might actually approve of someone providing a factual account to the public. Lord knows itâs embarrassing to have inaccurate stories running wild about your family.â She sighs. âParticularly when theyâve got their own share of ridiculous true accounts to begin with.â Pen wrinkles her nose. âBut that may be my own bias speaking.â
Wrapping a hand about her waist, he frowned a little, nuzzling the side of her neck. âHe might. Heâs an unpredictable sort of man and I have gotten used to asking before I do anything. Less I trigger some previously undiscovered ire lying withinâŠâ Another pause. âHistory accounts have not been kind to you either, dear Pen. But if you like, I could write a factual account for them as well?â
She runs her fingers through his hair and nods. âWell yes, youâd have to ask first. But I do suspect heâd likely help you if you did. Much as he is fickle, heâs a lover of knowledge. He trusts you, at least somewhat, and I think heâd be pleased that youâre eager to do justice to their history.â The goddess shrugs after a long pause of her own.
âWhat would be the use? I mean youâre certainly welcome, but I have no particular interest in rectifying things for my familyâs sake. Theyâve made enough bad decisions that in some ways they probably do deserve the reputation bestowed upon them.â
He considered that, studying the vast piles of paperwork that be littered his usually messy desk. âPerhaps he would. I admit, Iv'e not given it much consideration.â Turning and placing a small kiss about her neck. âWell, your family might have brougth a great deal of trouble to themselves, but you are part of said family. That alone would make the undertaking important, to me at any rate.â
She smiles at his affection, wrapping her warms loosing around his shoulders. âWell, I think you should, dear. Itâs a good idea, and it might give you a sense of organization. At least for a little while.â Pen smirks and then manages a weak chuckle.
âOnly by necessity. I love them, but they donât define me, and I donât identify as one of them. Iâm honestly happier amongst humans.â
