Oh Thank God, She Was Asleep

You set off early the following morning, bidding a fond farewell to the old landlady. You can't help but notice that Princess Matilda seems a bit tired, despite the more than comfortable rooms you all enjoyed. Not that you have to guess the reason. Little gasps and poorly muffled, dainty grunts wafted through the walls even after you and Roan had finished your wild coupling. Roan kept trying to get you to go in on a bet over how long she'd keep going, though you didn't bite. For what it's worth, when the answer turned out to be "quite a while" you did convince your drippingly willing valet to go another round or two. Or, since we may as well be specific, four.

Still, you certainly aren't tired. You feel quite rejuvenated, in fact, and it's not just because of all the fucking. By this point you are rather familiar with the glowing contentment that comes from a night of olympian sex, and while that's very much present this is something different. It's almost like the landscape has gotten lusher, greener, more inviting. And the air, good lord, it's somehow way better? And...air-ier? You're not an air scientist or anything, but you'd definitely rate this air a Five of Five, Would Breath Again.

Matilda seems to be feeling it too, the previously pooped princess having perked up profoundly as your journey moves forward. Roan seems to take notice, chestnut eyes bright as she waggles her thick eyebrows at the girl. "It's nice here, isn't it?"

The princess nods slowly. "Yes, very..."

Roan grins. "And don't forget it! My prince's realm has the freshest air, the richest soil, the plumpest livestock and the most fecund women in all of the world."

Matilda turns a bit red. "What does that last part have to do with it?"

Your valet shrugs, idly drumming her fingers across her swollen belly. "Dunno! It's true though; we have banners to prove it."

Oh, so you've crossed over into the borders of your kingdom? Er, princedom? Your whatever? Had you really traveled all that far yet? Well whatever; you have to admit that you've felt quite at home from the moment the well-maintained road spilled out of the forest and into the pristine farmland that you're now surrounded by. Man, you had thought that the plains where you met Lottie were well-maintained; the rolling fields that make up your lands make them look like a garbage dump.

Oh shit wait, does that mean that's your castle in the distance?!

You pause, shielding your eyes from the sun to peer at the building that presides over the surrounding village and farms like a proud father sheltering its brood. You have to admit that it's not exactly regal; it actually looks quite like a very fancy barn in fact, with only its single silo-like tower to give it any sort of high ground over the more mundane buildings that sit outside of its grounds. Still, it certainly it's without its charms, and too many stairs would just be a pain when a maid or noblewoman or whomever is stuffed to bursting with your children.

You know, that thought would have startled you, like, three days ago. Now? You're willing to admit that the difference between 'Your' thoughts and 'Horsedick's' thoughts might as well not exist. Yourdick thoughts? Whatever; you can work on the name later. Roan and Matilda have noticed that you stopped, pulling their horses back around to trot back to you. Roan reaches down, patting your head affectionately. "What, homesick? You do realize we're basically there, right?"

You smile a bit. "True. Still, it feels like the first time."

Uh, yeah. Because it is. Not that Roan notices. "It's only been two weeks...well, maybe you're right. I know they've been set with Nan and their nurses, but I am more than ready to see my babies again..."

Roan suddenly jerks her head towards you, her far-off look turning into a startled stare. "Wait wait wait. I was your first."

"Yes. Didn't we settle this?"

She waves you off impatiently. "Yeah yeah magical romance true love blah blah whatever. So you're saying that Philip is your firstborn?!"

You blink, the imagine of a rather large toddler with impressively thick eyebrows and an incredibly serious expression popping into your head. That is definitely your son. "Uh, yes."

Roan gives a groan of anguish, taking a handful of her short hair. "Gaaaaah, why did you let me name him Philip?! You're a monster!"

Matilda seems very confused, hesitantly raising a hand. "Um, I think Philip is a very nice name?"

Roan blows a furious raspberry straight up into the air, throwing her hands out in disgust. "Blech, for a cherished son yes sure, whatever, Philip is fine. But I didn't know I was naming the future KING, did I?!"

You furrow your brow. This is not precisely where you thought this was going. Roan continues on unabashed. "I could have named him something AMAZING, like, like....like Thunderbolt! King Thunderbolt! 'Oh hey guys, how about we pillage this kingdom? Oh wait, King Thunderbolt!? Not a chance; let's burn down King Philip's shit instead!'"

You really can't hep yourself. "Looks like the kingdom is doomed, then."

Roan huffs. "Don't tease me. I could have at least named him Roan! Roan is unisex! Ish! It's unisexish! I could have even named him King Unisexish!"

You nod towards Roan's stomach. "Well we can name that one Roan, and the next one Unisexish, then."

Your lover huffs again, turning her horse around and starting off towards the castle. "This is a fight; we're fighting!" You hear her call as she gallops into the distance.

Matilda stares at you, dumbstruck. The fact that all you can do is shrug in response, unable to keep the smile off of your face, only seems to further bewilder the somewhat out of her depth princess. Hey, you happen to love a woman who takes King names very seriously. It's not an easy life, but it is a pretty fucking awesome one.