362 Healthy Frustration

The urge to get up and work crushed Donovan's psyche, yet he remained firmly in place on his back. He had been trapped, not by the merciless machinations of his blond betrothed but by a situation of his one design - one he now felt had not been thought through to the logical conclusion owing to some treasonous wiring in his own brain. Two women slept beside him, one head resting on either arm, providing no reasonable expectation of an exfiltration which would leave their slumber unmolested. 

Why was it that the universe conspired to penalize him for doing his duty as a romantic partner? Was it punishment for taking on two partners? Some form of cosmic vengeance for putting Titanyana on the backburner for the duration of their visit?

In a manner of speaking all three of them were true, which Donovan himself recognized. It wasn't penalty, but payment. Not punishment, but the consequence of having twice as many obligations. Not cosmic vengeance, but a desire to treat Titanyana with some degree of fairness in what was unquestionably a biased relationship.

Titanyana had decided to keep her relationship with Donovan not necessarily secret, but certainly hidden. Unlike Diana, who would be free to flaunt her affection regardless of circumstance, Titanyana's position as something between vassal and lover was bound to cause some speculation when word of her people's plight inevitably spread. She possessed a title, 'Tempest', and so it stood to reason that some gossip would eventually stir up about Donovan's character - forcing her to not just work for but marry him in exchange for the lives of her people.

Truth be told, Donovan did not care about such rumors. Under optimal conditions it would take anywhere between twenty and thirty years before they would be ready to take a more proactive diplomatic stance, and in all likelihood a solid industrial base for export at scale was closer to half a century out. Any ill impressions from half-baked rumors would have died out by then, not that he expected to be performing much diplomacy to begin with. The only reason he felt willing to play along at all was Diana, who very clearly had reservations about how Titanyana would fare with the arrangement but generally agreed with the assessment that such rumors could prove problematic . . . for her.

She had yet to concede on the prospect of securing a blood tie or two with foreign powers should the opportunity arise, possibly with Titanyana's children now that the relationship had been formalized though Donovan was obviously the priority, so managing both of their reputations was vital. At present Diana was not certain which qualities would attract the best prospects, but a spotless record (or as close to spotless as could be achieved) couldn't possibly be a detriment. It would be up to the two of them to garner fame and attention, she would handle the matchmaking and damage control.

Regardless, now was the last time Titanyana would be able to indulge in physical contact with reckless abandon for a while. The occasional hug or holding of hands might be arranged in chance private moments, but the barracks would not be the same bastion of privacy it had been last year. They were to join a proper unit under Trebar, meaning there was no expectation of privacy - even his bouts with Diana would have to become significantly less frequent - so for now he would relent to their assertions for affection. Morale was important, even if he didn't really understand how romance and intimacy fit into the picture.

It went without saying that women were a fair bit more complicated than men, not that Donovan was great at managing their morale either.

A ray of light peered in through a crack in the door. It wasn't that big an opening, perhaps enough to be waved away by some combination of air pressure differential and shoddy construction on any other vessel, but not the Pegasus. The interior pressure and atmosphere was heavily monitored and regulated on a per room basis while most of the issues with construction owed themselves to a lack of proper materials. All of the doors were steel, cast to precise specifications and installed by a robot  -  it wouldn't just open on its own like that.

Still, Donovan remained silent. To his knowledge there wasn't anyone on board with hostile intent, nor had Arc sounded any sort of alarm. Not that Arc needed really needed to alert Donovan of a threat, there were some fascinating applications of atmospheric isolation fields that were more than capable of eliminating a biological threat within milliseconds, it was really more of a formality. No this was probably just some curious individual sticking their nose where it really shouldn't be. 

Monda was the first to come to mind, or perhaps one of her retinue. Still unfamiliar with the layout of the Pegasus, they could have forgotten where their rooms were and simply peeked in to avoid disturbing the occupants, however Donovan thought this unlikely. Monda aside, the rest of them had been put on the floors below (a sort of courtesy they insisted upon), and the rooms of all 'permanent' residents had some indication of occupancy on the door. That left Donovan with another candidate.

"Arya?" He raised his head up and whispered as loud as he dare. Everyone else on board would know where his room was and that one shouldn't intrude upon one's room while they slept. Not so for the young squire, currently peering through the ever so gradually widening slit. "Is something wrong?"

"Mm-mm." Incomprehensible, but it sounded closer to a no than a yes.

"Come in." Had the room been lit he might not have invited her in owing to his lack of a shirt, however the dark would conceal his somewhat indecent exposure. The women were properly clothed though, so it wouldn't have been an issue in that regard. "What's going on."

"I'm, um," she got closer, her form barely visible in the dim light scattering from the hall, "bored."

"Bored?" For a moment he was incredibly confused. He'd put so much effort into ensuring there were ample amenities and entertainment for these long journeys, and she was bored? It didn't take him long to intuit why that was the case. Monda and her entourage were effectively unapproachable for the little girl, same for Bishop Kayes, and Cayzi was either busy studying or fast asleep. Miya and her cohort of maidservants serving as Petunia's replacement were probably busy either cleaning or preparing the next meal as well, so she didn't have anyone she could talk to. More to the point she didn't have anyone to speak with Arc through, and she'd been instructed to avoid playing in the cargo hold without supervision. There were too many heavy, unsecured items to be sure of her safety. "What do you want to do?"

"I want to play a game."

"A game." Donovan rested his head back on the pillow. He felt a slight twitch from Titanyana's ear on his arm suggesting she'd probably woken up from this interaction, but he wasn't about to force her up if she didn't want it. "What kind of game?"

". . . dunno." Donovan stifled a sigh. Arya could not be faulted for being bored. How well would he fare in a steel box with minimal mental stimulation, unable to work? Probably not much better if he was being honest. His time aboard the Noah had been hell for him mentally, and he had the benefit of a capable verbal sparring partner and a flight simulator . . . which gave him an idea.

"What about a video game?" He didn't play many of them, but in practice they were the same as a simulator and some of them really didn't need verbal or written instructions to understand. Icons pointing to various buttons were probably going to be enough for her to get the basics down.

"What's that?"

"Go to the theater and pick up the remote that looks like, uh, it's the not straight one. It's a bit janky and curved, then take a seat where you can see the whole screen. I'll have Arc choose something that should interest you; the instructions should be pretty easy to figure out."

"Okay."

"Mhm." He massaged Titanyana's arm, a subtle indicator he knew she wasn't sleeping.

"Thank you!" The whisper almost sounded like a hiss rebounding off the steel door, which clicked when closed.

"Have fun."

- - - - -

"Donovan?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"Did you tell Arya to play video games?"

"I most certainly did." Donovan tilted his head back to find Diana with hands on her hips and a less than enthusiastic look on her face. "Why do you ask?"

"She hasn't left the theater for a few hours."

"I guess she's having fun."

"The expression on her face is not one I would consider entertained."

"Huh?" 

"She seems frustrated."

"And?"

"She refuses to put the controller down."

". . . I'm not seeing the issue here." For a few moments, a precious handful of seconds, Donovan attempted to parse this information for anything worth worrying over only to come up short.

"I have concerns that it may be upsetting her, but she won't stop."

It was fortunate for Donovan that his head was tilted far enough back that his slack jaw did not result in an open mouth. Perhaps it was simply a lack of information on the situation on his end, but this complaint fell pretty squarely into the category of 'non-issue' for him. Still, he decided to pull up a projection of what she was playing.

It seemed to be a platformer of some variety, a two dimensional one, with relatively basic enemies and some sort of puzzle that needed solving by picking up or pushing blocks of various colors into place. He watched her progress on his display for a few minutes, familiarizing himself with the mechanics and win condition, and picked up on the trick to this level somewhat quickly. As far as puzzles were concerned it seemed pretty rudimentary, though how that difficulty scaled for someone Arya's age wasn't something he felt comfortable assessing, but figuring out how to solve it didn't appear to be the problem for poor Arya.

She simply wasn't able to clear out all the enemies before the clock ran out. This wasn't a matter of skill - she was quite adept at dispatching them - there were just too many of them. Arya could not kill all the enemies and also complete the level in time.

Donovan did not know if this was a trick of Arc's design or some malice born of a Terran developer, but playing into the instinct cultivated in prior levels to kill everything so the puzzle could be solved without interference by making it physically impossible to clear if you kill all the enemies was borderline diabolical. Even meaner was how close you could get with perfect play, a couple tiles at most. Anybody who got too committed to defeating them all would think they needed to do it a bit faster, a bit sharper, and it still wouldn't be enough. Letting even a single enemy live would almost certainly leave enough time, but would a little girl be able to figure it out?

"Eh, she'll be fine. It isn't like she needs to do anything else."

"She could be learning, or training."

"That would be Titanyana's responsibility."

"And she's stuck in there with her."

". . . then what's the issue?" He honestly could not comprehend what the problem was. It wasn't like they could go outside and swing their swords about, the cargo hold was full!

"Monda is there as well."

"So?"

"I don't know, Donny, I just don't feel like its something they should get engrossed in."

"Why?"

". . . I don't know?"

". . ."

". . ."

"Do you not like video games or something?"

"It's not that . . ."

"Then what's the fucking issue?"

"I just don't feel like it's a good influence."

"Is this not the sort of cultural influence you've been dreaming about?"

"I just want to feel productive. I can't really build a bond like this, and it feels mean to take the controller out of her hands when you were the one to give it to her."

"Then get another controller and ask if you can play another game." 

"Is . . . that really okay?"

"Of course it's okay! If Titanyana and Monda are there then grab one for each of them as well, Arc made like sixteen of the damn things!" His ability to join in on the festivities from the other side of the wall went deliberately unmentioned. Work aside, this was an excellent bonding opportunity for the girlies. "Hell, grab Miya and the other maids and have a big old party! It's what we made it for!!!"

"Okay, okay, I get it." Diana dropped down to her knees and leaned over Donovan, her hair forming a curtain as she gave him a smooch on the forehead. "You don't have to yell . . ."

He sighed, the steady rush of air causing Diana's hair to billow outwards. It was somewhat manipulative of Diana to get upset at him 'yelling' after confronting him with a non-issue, especially when she had basically been asking him to assume the role of bad guy so she wouldn't have to, but he couldn't find it in himself to get mad at her. Frustrating though such behavior might be, he felt it healthy that these conflicts never escalated beyond petty spats.

"Sorry. This didn't seem like as big of an issue as you were making it out to be."

"And it probably wasn't."

"Probably?"

"Watch it, buster." Donovan smiled despite the sharp tug on his ears. "This is valuable diplomacy time, I can't have it wasted by the attention draining square."

"Rectangle."

"Whatever." His second jab earned a flick to the forehead as she straightened herself back up, struggling to swish her hair back. "Ugh, it's gotten so long."

The golden curtain, once bounded by her upper waist, now flowed down towards her buttocks. It had received a trim or two to keep the ends in line and the overall length was still manageable by various hair implements and making it wavier with a curler, but it was still reaching the limit of what she could maintain.

"I kinda like it."

"Hm?" Had she ears like Titanyana's, they would have perked up. "Mm, yeah, I suppose it does make me look like Rapunzel . . . maybe I'll let it grow out a bit longer, maybe start trimming when sitting on it becomes an issue."

"Sounds great."

"Is there a particular reason you like it?"

"A reason?" Diana knew he had a terrible aesthetic sense. "I guess it's somewhere between beauty and sex appeal, though I guess it might also be the draconic desire to hoard gold and the fairest maiden in all the land."

"The fairest . . ." She trailed off, blushing slightly. "I wuv you."

She really was so easy to please.