“No, I wouldn’t,” I agreed seriously as I eyed the tiny woman. “And now that I know what your goals are, I’m going to hold you accountable to them.”
“Feel free,” Breena said firmly. “But I haven’t finished with my list.”
“I know,” I said with a sigh, “but I’ve been waiting to see if you’d ever figure out that I’m in here taking a bath, and you still haven’t. Stretching this out any longer is probably mean, so now I need you to either respect my privacy and leave, or at least tell me where the shampoo is. So that I can wash my hair.”
“Wash your hair?” Breen asked, baffled. “Why would you do that and bathe without taking off your… oh.” Her eyes widened as she finished. She looked down at me, finally realizing that I wasn’t wearing anything but a couple gallons of water, turned bright red everywhere but her hair, grew larger by over a foot, then turned and flew out the room.
Which meant that I was on my own for figuring out where the shampoo was.
Therefore, I realized bitterly, she’d won.
CHAPTER 3: CLEARING CLOUDS
The shampoo turned out to just be the scripts on the other side of the cleaning rock, which surprised me. It was completely perfect for my needs, since back on Earth I had just used the typical three-in-one bodywash/shampoo/conditioner/liquid Swiss army knife, but I also knew that people like my mother and sister had their own specific shampoo that they swore by and refused to use anything else if they could help it. I had no idea if that was a problem in this world or if people’s vital guard somehow guaranteed perfect hair as well, as long as people cleaned it.
Point of order, Teeth spoke up suddenly. That last one can’t be true.
Why? I asked, humoring him for once.
Look in the mirror. We don’t have perfect hair. Even for being a scaleless male.
You still think that giving a woman a freshly killed corpse is a romantic gesture, I retorted as I dried off, so how would you recognize what kind of hair would be perfect for men?
Not hard, FNG countered. That elf guy, Weylin? The one who sings and makes fun of you? He has perfect hair. Don’t try to deny it.
Damn it, I realized, he had a point.
And that woad guy, Breyn? He’s not that far behind. I’ve seen the way that one fairy girl looks at him when she’s much bigger. He’s putting us to shame, too, now that I think about it.
And just like that, you’re back to being annoying, I told my inner dragon. I had brought Breaker with me, and I was about to use it to summon back my clothing before I heard someone knock outside the room, announcing that they were leaving clean garments for me to change into. I have a massive job to do right now, and it’s not my fault things are so complicated with the multi-bodied Star-woman who is also juggling a lot of responsibilities herself.
That, Teeth said, as I began to change into real clothes. I wanted to talk to you about that.
Tough luck, I said as I finished putting on my shirt. Then I grabbed Breaker and started summoning my layers of armor. I just explained how we don’t have a lot of time and—
Am I bad? Teeth interrupted.
I stopped summoning my Woad chainmail, and paused.
What? I demanded.
Am I bad? Teeth asked again, enunciating every word. You disagree with every idea I have, unless it’s about hurting something that endangers Stell or a child. And you get mad every time I notice a woman’s figure.
Well, yeah, I answered, feeling weirdly defensive. It’s distracting. Especially during a fight. And I argue with your ideas because none of them are going to work the way you think you will. Because dragons apparently handle things differently than non-dragons do.
Maybe, Teeth didn’t back down, but if you and I are the same person, like Stell keeps saying we are, then my desires are your desires, too. So I’m asking you. Is a part of us bad? Is it bad that I like how beautiful Stell is, and want to hurt idiots who threaten our people? Tell me, he said, horrifying me with his sincere desperation. Please.
His question floored me. He had literally spent the last two Tumults insisting that I needed to find ways to act on his desires—our desires, if I had to admit it. I wanted to tear apart all the assholes messing with us—the ones who had tortured and disabled me, the ones who had framed and murdered my father, the ones who had brought genocide and oppression to entire planets. And tearing into Cavus every time I saw him was one of the few things I fully agreed with Teeth on.
Now obviously, I knew enough about anger and rage to know that bad things would happen if I gave full vent to my anger, no matter how justified I knew it was. I had to handle it carefully, and I think Teeth knew that.
But his question about the other stuff, me noticing the attractiveness of Stell’s form—well, forms, plural—struck a nerve at an angle I couldn’t protect. Because every time I had thought about the different ways Stell’s bodies were attractive, I had clamped down hard on the thought, and when Teeth brought it up instead, I clamped down even harder. That instinct softened whenever one of her bodies initiated affection, and it didn’t keep me from acknowledging that I had feelings for her, but whenever my appreciation for her manifested in noticing things like Merada’s legs, or Via’s… back, I reflexively tried to shut my brain down.
Yeah, that, Teeth said, pointing out my reaction. Why is that a bigger deal than us wanting to rip up some douchebag?
Because the douchebag usually needs or deserves it, I said, automatically.
Does Stell not deserve to know we find her beautiful? Teeth asked back. Is she going to be hurt if she finds out we think she’s really, really attractive?
I reached for another answer, but my mind only found white space.
I’m serious, Teeth said, with more worry in his voice, will girls get hurt if they find out we like them?
Um, I stammered, tripping over my own thoughts.
Are we bad for liking them? Teeth asked, with none of his usual confidence. Tell me why our desires scare us.
Shit, I swore, feeling entirely off-balance.
I was supposed to be better, now.
But instead I didn’t even know the answer to a simple freaking question.
Um, I finally said stupidly, they can get hurt if our affections aren’t communicated properly. Sometimes if you look at them for too long, or if you come on too strong—
How strong is too strong? Teeth demanded. Because if we just don't do that, then we’re fine, right?
I—it depends, I said, as newly discovered gears in my head started to turn. What’s perfectly fine for some girls can be way too strong for others.
Back in high school, Regina had actually felt I had come on too strong when I asked her out to homecoming, even though my sister Rachel had made me practice asking her out, and she thought I was fine. I never figured out exactly what I did that was wrong, but it was part of the reason people had thought I was being jealous when I had stopped Chris from taking advantage of her at the party.
But there were even more recent examples.
And the same girl can change her mind about what she’s comfortable with, I continued, as those gears kept turning. Look at Stell. When we talk to her Merada side, she’s totally down with moving things all the way forward right on the spot. But Via’s being way more cautious, Stell’s primary body keeps trying to shut everything down at random moments, and Breena and Guineve can’t or won’t clue me into what’s going on.