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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Ancalagon - 31. Chapter 31

“Are you always this calm?” Even as I asked the question, I was pushing away from the table to pace the room. As big as it was, I could only manage a few paces in each direction and that wasn’t enough.

“Yes.” Garjah set down his knife and watched me. “Staying calm is essential in high stress situations.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Basically your whole job.”

He inclined his head. “A lot of the time, yes. My mission is to keep everyone safe, but I feel different toward you.”

Of course that was stressful. I’m an alien. Well, he’s an alien. We’re both aliens? I threw my hands up in the air. “How is this supposed to work?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s best if we go see the Kardoval. I should not be in charge of security with a pair-bond, but Seedrah is too inexperienced. I must continue to fulfill my duties.”

“How come you’re not mad? I’m messing up your whole life.” Ever since I’d learned about how their society worked, I’d made the mistake of believing that meant their thinking was rigid. That they lacked flexibility by their memories.

But the ability to access a memory and learn inherent knowledge didn’t necessarily indicate a lack of plasticity in thinking. Assumptions were biting me in the ass again.

Exhaustion swamped me, and the manic energy fueling my pacing drained out of me. I slumped on the edge of the bunk. “I don’t know what to do.”

Garjah turned his chair and leaned forward. “Humans do not bond this way, correct?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Believe that I would not harm you in any way.”

My mouth dried, and I found it hard to swallow. Harm me? My voice rasped and stuttered as I spoke. “W-what would make you think that?”

Garjah’s expression was earnest. “The extra limbs, the increased bone density, and ability for your body to handle the gravity due to stronger fibers within your muscles… all of that is an improvement over your previous form. But you are still much smaller than me. I was careful when I tended your body.”

Cheeks heating, I cleared my throat. “I don’t know that four arms is an improvement.” I also wanted to know what he meant by tending my body; I’d had the same thought when Timok had said it, but I didn’t want to know either.

“Of course it is.” He smiled and sat back.

“Agree to disagree.”

He cocked his head. “That must be a human thing because it does not make any sense.”

I sighed. “What happens next?”

“We finish eating, I return the tray. You rest, and I will bring your cerops to you. Then I must work. I will be back with meals. After my shift, we can move your things.”

“Wait. I’m not trapped here, am I?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why can I go get meals?”

“Because Timok wishes for you to rest. And we have not completed our bonding. It would be better to limit your exposure to others at this time, for their sake.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Their sake?”

“Hurting my crewmates would not be ideal.”

“Why would you hurt them?”

“You scent of me right now after spending so long in my bed. That is good. I would not like it if you were touched by another.” Garjah lifted his gaze and the intensity in his eyes shocked me. I gasped in a breath. “Not when you have not yet touched and claimed me so I carry your scent as well.”

Closing my eyes, I began to count. From the things Timok had said, I’d assumed the pair-bonding was intimate. Of course that mean… physical things. Touching. Being touched.

I’d never seen one of the Four Arms naked. Did they have external genitalia? Oh stars, what if I’d assumed Garjah was a male this whole time from his build but he had an innie? I didn’t do females.

Ever.

Trying not to think about that, I cleared my suddenly ticklish throat. “I’m not hungry. Will you go get Bouncer?” I needed some space. I needed some answers.

“Of course.” Garjah put the dishes on the tray and strode out of his quarters, his movements always deliberate and steady. I’d caught a glimpse of a fiery emotion inside him, but he’d hidden it quickly. Tapping my fingers rapidly on my leg, I tried to think. It was no good. I was going to have to ask Timok.

“Yes?” he said when I contacted him.

“I need information.”

“More? I thought I overshared last time.”

“Turns out, not quite enough,” I said darkly. “I need… um… I need gender studies. And information on pair-bonding. Things you’d give to adolescents.”

The tiny smirk he didn’t bother to smother irritated me immediately. “Adolescent gender and bonding videos. Completely innocent research. Right.”

“Just knock it off. You know why I’d be asking these questions, and you can either provide me with the data to read or view or come tell me yourself.” I threw down the gauntlet. That was one of my favorite sayings I’d learned. I still wasn’t quite sure what a gauntlet was, but had the image of throwing a hand covering pointing at the person making a very rude gesture.

Timok would deserve it. He was so irritating. “Well, I could come explain in—”

I cut him off. “Don’t. Send the data.”

“Very well.” Timok smirked. “Have a good day reading in Garjah’s bed.”

He was gone before I could curse at him. At least Bouncer was coming. He’d be a good distraction from the embarrassment I was sure was about to commence from whatever Timok would send.

Copyright © 2020 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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