Barbarian’s Bride by Ruby Dixon

11

NORA

Most days there's a hot meal simmering over the main tribal fire, along with herbal tea. The tea today is a strong one, so I decide to make my own over the small fire we keep going inside our cave. I'm still not as skilled as my mate with keeping house, even in a cave. Sometimes the fire dies and there's nothing I can do to possibly get it going again. I've cried over fire more than once since getting here, but today, tea is my particular enemy.

I frown at the pouch and tripod we keep in the back of our cave and pull out when we want to cook or make tea. Dagesh put it away yesterday, and I figured how hard could it be to set up a tripod, right? I study the tall lengths of bone, trying to figure out which end is up. Each of the three legs is about four feet long, so that when the pouch hangs over the center of the fire, it's not so low that it drags in the coals, but it's low enough that it gets warmed by the heat. The leather pouch is shiny and soft with repeated use, and I tug it off before trying to prop up the bone tripod. The legs of the damn thing won't stand, though, and no matter what I do, I can't get the tripod to work. Each time I try, the bones collapse and start to fall into the fire, and I have to hastily rescue them.

I'm ready to scream with frustration—or snap one of the bones over my knee like the Karate Kid—when my mate pokes his head into the cave. "Are you hiding, my pretty one?"

I let out a frustrated breath. "This…thing," I shake one of the tripod legs, "Is going to give me an aneurysm."

"A what?"

"It's going to make my brain explode." Close enough. I hold the offending tripod out to him. "I know you've shown me at least three or four times, but can you show me again? Please?"

He takes it from me, pausing for a moment. "You…your brain will truly not explode, will it?"

I have to giggle a little at that. "It's just me being dramatic because I'm angry at this dumb tripod." I gesture at it, but it's hard to stay mad when my cute mate is gazing down at me with that slightly worried expression on his face. I never get tired of seeing Dagesh. It's been almost a month now and I keep expecting for things to feel humdrum with him, for the two of us to somehow drift apart, or for me to discover some sort of dealbreaker between us. It hasn't happened, though.

I keep liking him.

I like his laugh. I like his scent. I like his big stinky feet and the way he snorts in his sleep sometimes. I like that he's a cuddler and I like his long braid and the way he dotes on me. I like his silly jokes and the way he's just so damn steadfast, and I know I can count on him for anything. If the sex is a little too vanilla for me to be truly happy, it's a small price to pay. Dagesh has made it clear that he's horrified at the thought of being rough with me, and it's just something I'll have to get used to. It's not his fault he ended up with the kinkiest bitch this side of the galaxy.

I'm pretty sure I'm the only girl that likes spankings on this planet. We all talk back and forth and none of them have ever shown any kind of inclination for anything like me and my friends were into back on Earth. It's something I've come to terms with…well, for the most part.

Sometimes I just wish my mate would grab me by the neck and hold me down as he fucked me raw, but I guess a girl can't have everything. I'm happy with my gentle giant. If our mating isn't a perfect ten, it's at least a nine point five. Me wanting something he can't give me isn't his problem, it's mine. It's something I'll just have to get over.

So I smile up at him as he takes the tripod. He touches the ends. "Remember the notches? They must all lock in place."

I smack my forehead. "Oh. Right. I'm such an idiot." He's shown me that before and each time, I forget. "Is it too early to blame pregnancy brain?"

"As long as it does not explode, you can blame your brain for everything."

I laugh. "I promise, no explosions." I watch as he sets up the tripod effortlessly and hangs the pouch off of it. I'll get the hang of it someday. For now, I'm content to watch him handle it. He's so big and strong and utterly dependable, my Dagesh. I really do adore him. I hold out a skin of water so he can fill the pouch. "I'm glad you're home early."

He smiles over at me and then pauses as he pulls out the leafy crap that we use for tea. "Do you care what color the roots are?"

"Um, no? As long as they taste good?" Dagesh pulls out a handful and I do notice one that I don't find particularly tasty. "Wait, not that one."

"Which one?"

I reach over and pull it out of his hand. "The one with the white needles. I don't like the taste."

"Aaaah." The look on his face is triumphant. "So you do have a preference."

"I guess?" I shrug. "Everyone has certain flavors they like. Why?"

Dagesh just smiles at me like he's somehow figured something out. It's weird. He drops the rest of the leaves and bits of root and nuts into the pouch of water, then moves toward the storage baskets in our hut. My mate pulls out a large piece of the spicy cakes they call “trail rations” here and offers some to me. "Hungry?"

I shrug. I can always eat. The diet here is a lot leaner than the one back home, because there's not much in the way of grains. It's all meat and the occasional vegetable, and I find I'm hungry a lot. Either that, or I'm burning a lot more calories. "Thanks, babe." I take a bite of the cake…and pause, because he's watching me with that weird look again. "What?"

"Do you…wish to thank it?"

I eye him as I chew. "Thank…what?"

"Your food." He gives me an encouraging look. "Yes?"

Did my sensible alien husband fall into a patch of alien mushrooms or something? "Babe, are you feeling okay?"

"I am fine," Dagesh says. "I just wish to understand you."

"That makes two of us right now." I smile to take the sting out of my words, but I'm more than a little bewildered at his actions.

But he just grins at me and leaps to his feet again. "I will return soon. I must go clean a kill."

"Um…okay." I watch as he hustles out of our cave. Seriously weird.