Better to Light a Candle: Safiya's Warmth

Better to Light a Candle:  Safiya's Warmth

It takes a while to finally gather the energy to get up again.  I've dealt with a lot of these little debates, and most of the time I end up frustrated, but at least with the comfort that she won't try it again for a while.  With this one, though, I just feel tired.  There's just a grinding feeling of having lost more than I could have possibly gained.  Isn't that how it is everyday now?

I drag myself over to my bed and slump onto it.  I'm done.  I'm tempted to move my wardrobe in front of the door again just to have that buffer in place.  I groan and reposition myself, trying to get comfortable.  It feels like there's some sort of lump on my ribs.  I finally reach down to inspect it, finding some piece of cloth in my way.  I pull it out from under me.

It's that sock.  My reflexes fling it across the room with the exact same jerk that throws off insects when they land on me.  Oh hells, why did you leave that damn thing in my room, Sister?  I'm not changing my damn mind.  The only thing keeping me from burning it is the fear that I'd release some weird magic into the air.  I hop out of bed and look around for something to pick it up with.  I spot the stick that's been sitting in the corner for a couple weeks now.

Fine.  I don't know why Cara brought that in here to begin with.  I flip the thing onto the stick and then maneuver it over to a drawer I've never used.  Like hells I'm going to ever touch that thing again.  Therapy?  I know what therapy is.  This is just sick.  I drop the thing into the drawer and then slam it shut with my foot.  I'd still rather elope with Tish, even though she's apparently nothing but bubblegum and sweetness when she isn't randomly violating people.  I take a deep breath and fall back onto my bed.  I know what I'm about to think, and I'm already mad at myself for being about to think it.

Don't I still forgive all of my sisters for going along with their instincts?  Is there any reason why I forgive them, but not Tish?  If she really does have good intentions, then what difference is there between them?  They've never raped anyone, but for two, possibly three of them that's just because I'm better at keeping mamono at a distance and getting out of bad situations.  I groan in frustration with myself.  Why am I thinking this?  Why can't I just leave well enough alone?

They don't even have different purposes!  They're all just trying to find husbands.  The difference is that her instincts are more destructive than, say, Vee's.  Does that make her inherently evil?  Did I consider for even half a second holding Vee's actions against her?  I can't let my morality be decided by how much I like someone.  That's not right; it's not fair.

But that wasn't a moment of weakness brought on by outside forces.  She did what she wanted to, knowing full well what would happen.  She could've decided not to.

Like the Amazons did.  They were forced to relinquish all of their slaves, and now they're a broken people.  They just don't have any sort of societal precedent for marriage, or for having any sort of equality with their mates.  The ones who attempt to go along with the modern system end up miserable, either because no one would want to live with someone who feels an inherent need to enslave, or because they can't maintain any sort of relationship they do find.  What few manage to find a bachelor with some sort of desire for slavery - or rather a fetish - just end up passing this same problem on to their children.

Will the same happen with the Manticores in time?  Half of them leading lonely, unfulfilled lives in human-oriented society, the other hiding in the woods with whatever husband they can kidnap?  Is that what anyone wants?  Is there an alternative?

A slight rapping on my door mercifully ends my train of horribly depressing thought.  "Val?"  Safi's voice.
"Not tonight."  I'm so damn tired and sick that having someone else around would just put me in a worse mood.  Besides, she's the last person I want to have to put up with my sour moods.
There's a small "Ah," followed by a pause.  "Val, there's a cold snap.  It's going down into the forties tonight."
Dammit.  It'd be easier to do this if my body wasn't actively resisting any attempt at getting up.  Still, at least I didn't shove the wardrobe back in front of the door.  I open the door to be greeted by the half-smiling, purple face.
"I thought you'd open up."
"You're sleeping in a sweater dress?"

I get nothing more than a brief "I like it" before I'm dragged off by the hand to my bed.  She grabs me by the waist and pulls me into a tight hug before rolling us both onto the mattress, immediately wrapping around my lower half.  It's only a few seconds before I'm completely encased by a ball of scintillating purple scales.  I look down to see half-lidded, golden irides looking back up at me.
"Mm, I knew you'd let me in."
"I didn't at first."
"Before you knew how cold it was getting."
"There's still no reason to assume that I wouldn't just leave you out."
For some reason she laughs at this.  "Give up already.  You're too sweet to do that."
I'm in no mood to hear about how "sweet" I am.  "I'm cruel; it's common knowledge around here."

She pulls back slightly as her eyes open fully.  "Oh right, how'd it go with Lythalia?  What's the verdict?"
What?  I answer with a flat "Guilty."
In spite of the darkness I can tell that she's screwed up her face in confusion.  "What's that mean?"
"I don't know, you're the one talking about verdicts."
I get a small slap on the chest.  "I mean, how'd it go?"
"I've decided never to wear socks again."
Another slap.  "No, really, how'd it go?"
"I just told you."  I sound particularly bitter as I answer.  I didn't mean to; I'd intended it as a joke.  It just came out that way.

She seems to draw back after that.  Not physically.  If anything I'm pressed in even tighter between fluffy sweater and cool scales.  When she finally speaks again it's timid and cautious.  Like she's crawling on glass.  "Then, did you reject the treatment?"
I pull an arm up from my side to rest on her head.  "It wasn't a treatment.  One, because I don't have a problem, and two, because it was horrifyingly sick."
"Ah."  Her eyes disappear as she buries her head into my chest.  It's a small thing, barely noticeable.  Just a recognition that I said something.  "I thought I might get to be an aunt, or something."

I sigh, somehow managing to sound even more annoyed and angry about this than I did before.  "Am I the only one who thinks that our family's big enough as it is?"
There's a longer pause as she considers this.  "Well, if you like everyone in your family, then wouldn't having more just mean that you'd be happier?"
It's simple, straightforward, and sweet.  I can't really find any fault with it except that it just doesn't match the way that I think.  It seems almost alien for how awkwardly the thought sits in my head.  Like it's just barely beyond my capacity to form on my own, but still recognizable as a coherent thought.  In that regard, it's perfectly like Safiya.  I rub her head, and am rewarded with another undulation of coils pulling me slightly tighter in her grip.

I straighten the other arm, reaching out through a gap in coils to move toward the window.  No wonder I'm getting compressed like this, it's cold just holding my fingers a few inches from the glass.  "We need to get you and Vee another set of heaters."
She groans into my chest.  "I don't want heaters, I want this."
"I'm not available some nights, though."
She yawns, apparently growing tired in general, rather than just with the conversation.  "There's still Cara."
"Yeah, she's always up for that, but there are two of you.  That time with Tera ended up with you two tied into a knot, Evette doesn't have any body heat for you to share, and I'm not going into the time Vee tried sleeping with Sister."

Lythalia once tried to tell me what happened that night, and I still shudder from the three sentences she told me before I turned on my headphones.  I don't know what happens when you apply a vibrator to a Jacobson's Organ, and I don't want to know.

This only gets me a slightly louder, slightly more tired groan.  "Be available more."
"Hey, if it were up to me there wouldn't be full moons."
She mutters something into my chest.  I think this is probably all of the conversation I'm getting out of her.  That's probably for the best, though.  I was in the middle of a train of thought.

One which I've completely lost.  Instead I'm just trying to pick out something to look at in this field of shifting blackness.  When I close my eyes nothing looks at all different.  I try to shift slightly to look over or around the pile of little sister, only to be pulled back into place by a quick muscular contraction around my legs.  Looks like I'm just stuck here for now.  Oh well.

When I relax my back and settle into the part of her on my back I'm rewarded by a steady series of undulations that grip my back and pull this way and that, shifting me into the perfect spot.  There's something profoundly comfortable about all of that muscle contouring to my back, stretching and pulling, before finally settling down.  It's like falling asleep on a bed of marbles that's trying to pull you down into it.  Her upper half then resettles into place on my chest, completing the process of making a bed for the night.

Without anything to focus on I can't really focus on my thoughts, and without a long, depressing train of thought to distract me I'm forced to accept that it's probably time for sleep.  It's only after thinking that that I'm forced to realize how damn tired I am.  Today's been tough.  I've had a lot of angry to be, and stupid to discuss.  That's hard.  Takes energy.  Then I have to be a pillow.  Man, I brain good when I'm sleepy.

---

I step slowly out of the ship, into the blighted landscape.  The winds pelt my visor with endless bits of rock and debris.  The entire hemisphere of the planet is one giant windstorm.  My target is directly in front of me, though.  Once I'm inside, the constant noise and bruising impacts should let up.  The glistening grey of the corbomite-enriched plasteel hull is unsullied by the endless dirt into which it has sunk.

Sure enough, I've no sooner set foot into what appears to be an airlock than the noise dies down.  The scanner still shows an atmosphere of mostly hydrogen sulphide with trace amounts of methyl mercaptan and dimethyl sulphide.  The corridors are long and winding, and the various ribbings and protrusions take on a sinister and biological quality.  The rhythmic hum and groan makes it seem more like I'm entering into the belly of some monster than a ship transmitting an emergency signal across all galactic standard channels.

Just as the light from the outside starts to fade I turn on the wrist-mounted flashlight to find myself in a cargo bay of some sort.  There are massive pillars holding it together, hallways stretching out as far as the eye can see, and crystals arrayed across the walls that refract the light into thousands of glistening patterns, but it is the small, fleshy orbs littered across the ground that command my attention.  Slowly, and with utmost caution I reach out and prod one of them with the antenna of one of my sensors.  As a response, some sort of tripartite maw opens on the top.

Despite the nervous tension holding my body rigid and the screaming discomfort in the back of my head, my curiosity urges me forward.  I lean ever so slightly forward, looking into the hole.  Immediately, a small, white sock lurches forward, shrieking, onto the faceplate of my suit.
"Oh fuck!  Fuck!  Get it off!  Delta-niner, I need reinforcements!  I am under attack, over!"

I am jerked awake by some random shift to the side.  Something's not right, but it takes a moment for my brain to wake itself enough to figure out what.  I'm covered in sweat for some reason, but that doesn't seem to be it.  There's a soft whimpering sound somewhere.  It's not coming from anywhere, though.

No, that's not right.  It's coming from everywhere, which is what's confusing me.  Meaning that it's just reverberating through the pile of serpentine coils holding me.  I pause to think about it, and sure enough, I'm kinda cold.  I reach around with my free hand and feel her scales on the outside of the protective coils that I'm stuck inside.  She's no warmer than the outside air.  Dammit.

Okay, here's how we do this.  I need to move around a bit.  I try lifting my chest up slightly, only to be immediately pulled into a tighter, shivering hug.  Okay.  This is going to be slightly more difficult since she's heat-starved.  I'm just going to need a stand.  Just long enough to get it up in front of the windowsill.  I close my eyes since I'm basically flying blind here, anyway.  There's a soft grinding sound as a base of iron forms from the bottom of my lantern, shifting it upward and to the side.  That has to look really lop-sided and weird.

And then, fire.  Lots of fire.  I don't necessarily need proof that I'm actually managing to do anything.  I can just sort of sense that it's acting the way I want it to.  Still, there's something satisfying about hearing the rush of air as the spark crackles into a larger and larger flame.  With enough concentration I can make it big enough to actually warm the place up a bit.  Then I can just lay back and let my own body heat do the rest.

And that works perfectly for the first hour.  I'm tired and I feel sick, but I have enough energy to hold the flame at top strength.  I'm even rewarded with a happy sigh and a few minutes of contented nuzzling as Safi tries to get into a better place by pressing further into my side.

It's hour two that really starts to wear on me.  I'm bored, I'm tired, and my muscles are starting to feel sore and weak.  I'm not sure if that's just keeping the heat up more than I ought to, or if it's from waking up in the middle of the night.  Come to think of it, how much sleep did I get?  It could just be two in the morning right now.

I can't really focus on anything, since I'm tired and I'm also concentrating on fire.  I think it's been about three hours now, but I can't actually see my clock.  Man, why can't I be cursed to have a giant clock hanging off my wrist?  You know how many people accidentally burn themselves as five-year-olds with clocks?  Nobody.  The wind's really picking up outside.

I'm starting to feel really sick.  I think it's probably just having so little sleep, but I can't be sure.  It usually doesn't get this cold around here, so I've never had to do this before.

I'm feeling really nauseous and sore.  And weak.  It might be sleep deprivation.  It might be from the fire.  The uh, the catgirl.  She said that I burned spirit energy.  I didn't think losing spirit energy made you nauseous.  Although it can make you sore.  But that might just be the sex.  Also weak.  And tired.  I hear sex makes you tired.  It's really windy tonight.  I can hear the window shaking.

It's getting hard to keep the fire going.  I'm not sure if it'll do any good if it's only on half the time.  The wind's really picking up outside.  I can hear it over Safi.
She's muttering something into my chest and giggling in her sleep.
She's comfortable.
I can keep the fire going.

There's a loud sound coming from down the hall.  It's like a horn.  Or a siren.  Not the monstergirls, though.  I mean mamono.
Monstergirl is a racist term.
Fuck racists.
I hate them.
I'm really tired.

"Kids!  Kids, it's time to get up!"  That's dad.  He sounds upset.  Is it morning?
"Safi, get up, it's time for breakfast."  I jostle her shoulder slightly.
"Everybody up!  We're all sleeping in the master bedroom tonight."  Mom?  What's mom talking about?  "Bring your sheets!"
Safiya starts to uncoil from around me before reflexively pulling back in with a gasp.  "Why's it so cold out?"
I hear similar complaints coming from down the hallway.  A single, reverberating shout echoes through the house, "Answers later, sheets now, move it!"

Safi is uncoiled from me in the same instant that I'm halfway sprung out of bed, and we both grab for the sheets and pull them off in a fluid motion.  I unlatch the door and swing it open to find Evette and Lythalia both following suit.  When I turn around Safi's pulling herself along as fast as the tight space will allow, and I get a good look out the window.  Or, rather, I don't.  The entire thing is solid white.

Mom and dad's bedroom is large enough to fit all of us without too much cramping, though there are half a dozen space heaters littered throughout the room and apparently all of the blankets have been pulled out of the closets.  Mom pulls us all onto the bed as dad grabs for whatever other sheets he can get hold of and tries to arrange them over us, all the while half-explaining what's going on.

"Emergency radio.  Someone, uh, found a Yuki-Onna.  Didn't marry her, uh, ran off.  She followed him.  Here, ah, this city.  Making a blizzard.  Saying it's gonna get to twenty below, soon."

After a few minutes we're all pulled together into a pile of scales, claws, and fur.  Between all of us and the various heaters and sheets it actually gets pretty warm.  Almost uncomfortably so.  It takes a while for everyone to start falling back asleep, and for some of us we just don't.  For a long while I just watch Vee and Safi, making sure they're all right.  Judging by their breathing, I'm betting mom and dad are doing the same.

Repositioning herself, I suddenly end up with Safi's face right in front of mine as we lay on our sides.
"Hey," she whispers.  Her normal voice is so soft and so breathy that when she whispers it's almost completely imperceptible.
"Hmm?"
"The part of me that was next to the window?  It's really warm.  Even though the window was frozen."
I nod.
She moves her head a few inches closer.  "Thank you."
I shake my head, "Don't."

She moves a few inches closer, enough for our foreheads to touch.  "No.  Thank you.  And I'm sorry."
I'm almost angry that she would even say that.  No, I am angry.  I frown as clearly as possible and say as loudly as I can without waking anyone up, "Don't apologize."
She opens her mouth and closes it again, clearly bothered by something.  "This isn't the first time I've really troubled you, though.  I mean, when my instincts," she trails off, averting her gaze.
I move my head to look her in the eyes, "Don't worry about it."
She just stares back at me with an unreadable expression.  When she moves again, it's to reach around my neck and hold me.  I hold her back.  It's cold out, after all.

And then I open my eyes again, my thoughts clicking into place.  It's so obvious that I feel dumb about not realizing it earlier.  The reason why I forgive Vee but not Sister, Safi but not Tish.  It's because they're sorry.  It's because they feel bad about making me uncomfortable, and wish that they hadn't.  That's all there really is.

But is it?  Is that really the only difference?  We all hurt each other just as much, but the good people feel bad about it afterward?  That's how families and friendships are able to hold together, just by regret and shame?  How the hells can I accept that?  But if they didn't feel sorry for it, would I have?  Isn't the answer to that question proof enough that I'm right?

Oh for fuck's sake, shut up, brain.  I'm going to hug my sister and go to sleep, and you can save this stupid, depressing train of thought for when it's morning and a reasonable temperature.

---

"Oh fuck!  Fuck!  Get it off!  Delta-niner, I need reinforcements!  I am under attack, over!"
"Oh, come on!"  Lythalia shouts from somewhere in the cargo bay.  "It's perfectly reasonable!"