Dating and a Defeat

Seconds had passed and Morrigan’s hands were still being vigorously shaken by Richard, who still had a wide grin smeared across his unkempt cheeks. His eyes had glazed over with fantasies clearly playing behind them.

Morrigan grimaced once again, “Maybe this was actually my first bad plan?” She felt a lump form in her throat as she watched his pompadour bounce back to life and twitch near rhythmically up and down as he continued to delve deeper into his personal fantasies.

…His hair. Is it alive…?

She gulped it all back, not wanting to have that fear answered. Trying desperately to pry her hands away from the sweating mass of floppy meat before her, she choked back her initial disgust.

“Well? What now?”

“…huh…?”

Richard shook his head, snapping himself back to reality and jostling his brain back into place.

“Yes?” The Demon Lord flipped her hair to the side before locking her hands on her hips and leveling a challenging look onto her new partner, “I have agreed to carry your child, The Hero. And now it's your move, big boy.”

Another brief moment of confused silence passed between them as the sun had completely set leaving them in the purple of the twilight hour.

“Yes, you are right,” Richard nodded and put a meaty paw to the bristles coloring his chin, “Huh… I never thought I would get this far…”

“… Really? You never thought you would get this far with a woman?”

“Not that. I figured the story would have been cancelled and the writer’s account banned by this point.”

“What…?” Morrigan tilted her head to the side, her eyes wide, perplexed by the absurdities the former adventurer was casually spewing.

“But, you’re right. What is the next move?” he had completely ignored her worries and continued on thinking, “What do people normally do when they get to this point?”

Morrigan could tell the gears were turning inside the empty skull of his, but in the wrong direction. The longer he pondered, his cheeks turned a rosy color and his hairpiece sprung back to life again.

“You… you seriously don’t know how to court a woman?” the great strategist began to regret even coming at this point.

Eyes wide and a light bulb flickering failingly above his head, Richard snapped his fingers then leveled them like a gun towards his deal maker, “Courting! Of course, I know that is.”

“I am having my doubts.”

“No, no,” He shook his head before flashing a confident thumbs up, “My best friend told me all about what to do in order to impress any woman. I got this in the bag.”

And with that he led the towering Demon Lord through the nighttime city streets. She straggled behind by a short distance curious where his eager and self-assured steps would lead them. The clacking of her heels on the stone street rhythmically matched the cadence of his strong strides against the alleyway’s walls.

The scene of an out of shape adventurer being followed by the imposing figure of the scourge of humanity was truly a sight to be seen. Most stayed clear of their path and only gawked in complete confusion and mild bewilderment and only the slightest bit of terror after they had passed them.

But it wasn’t either terribly long of a walk before Morrigan asked the all important question, “Where are we even going?”

“Hold your horses, Toots!” Richard answered back with eyes locked ahead as he continued his triumphant march forward, “It’s just around the corner.”

“Toots?” she felt her brow twitch as frustration began to bubble under her surface, “You are aware I am the Demon Lord, the great and pow–”

Morrigan caught herself mid-sentence as she realized exactly where Richard was marching directly towards. It was an extravagant building to be sure; several stories tall and all pink with heart shaped windows. Above it all was a neon sign reading “Hotel Ooh-La-La” with hearts making the o’s.

A pit deeper and more nauseating than Tartarus itself opened within her as she knitted her brow in utter frustration. “—erful.”

Half-lidded with disgust, she moved her eyes to the corner to see Richard bouncing on his toes looking at her like a child attempting to guilt his mother into candy at the market. “A love hotel? Are you serious?”

“Not just any love hotel,” he wags a pudgy finger before her, trying to correct her, “This is the finest love hotel in town. Five-star beds of the finest silks, romantic candlelight, and a complimentary breakfast. Nothing says ‘courtship’ like free waffles.”

Silence. A soft breeze blew by them, causing Morrigan’s cape to sway with it listlessly.

Then a vein in her brow bulged near to the point of busting.

“You take me to be some sort of cheap floozy? A love hotel? Courtship? Are you mad!?”

“No,” the former adventurer leaned back with an arm raised defensively, “but you seem to be…”

Something snapped in the Demon Lord. A wave of deep magenta flames erupted beside her, swirly in its fiery fury. “You dare mock me? I shall give you ripe vengeance on such indignation.” Reaching into the flaming vortex, the Morrigan retrieved a fearsome weapon, one meticulously crafted to inflict the highest level of damage per strike. One that would make any man soil himself in sheer terror upon seeing his significant other wielding:

A rolled newspaper. Folded tightly and taped even tighter for a firm grip.

Repeatedly she struck him across his dome, causing his hair to bounce around along with its swings. Ducking for cover he hoped his end came swiftly.

“This is not courtship, you idiot! This isn’t even romantic! Have some couth about you!”

“It’s not?” tears streamed down his cheeks, “Garret, how could you lie to me?”

Somewhere far above the scene of a powerful demon reprimanding her human partner in the middle of the red-light district, the soft voice of Garret’s pass words echoed softly in the starry sky:

“Richard, if you ever have a woman who shows even the slightest interest in you, bag her as soon as you can. It might be your only chance. I know the perfect place to take her, and it’s even in your budget…”

After the couple found themselves out of breath and Richard covered in welts, they rested on opposite sides of a street bench. They were both breathing heavily from the exertion of their “disagreement”.

“Alright, idiot,” Morrigan hissed through labored breaths, “Try again. And this time, be at least a little romantic.”

“Right,” Richard grumbled as he carefully nursed his aching head, “That was just a, uh, test. Obviously.”

The experienced adventurer flinched as he felt a murderous rage glowing beside him. With endless streams of nervous sweats pouring down his face, he cut his eyes to the side. And beheld the Demon Lord’s eyes glinting a violent violet tint as she reached into another fiery vortex. Fearful of what other dangerous weapon she could come up with, he scrambled for more ideas.

“Hey, I know,” his teeth nervously chattered, “What about a wrestling match! My buddies and I love going, they are a lot of fun after all. And I see a lot of couples there.”

The flames dissipate from her side as Morrigan mused over it. “I am sure the women are bored there. Though watching real men beat each other senselessly for my own amusement doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Uh, it's not that kind of wrestling,” Richard corrected while the demon shot him an incredulous glance, “it's more the buff guys in tights and fireworks and ‘Whoo! Brother!’ That type of stuff.”

“Then consider me unimpressed.” She slumped, holding her head up with a rested arm.

“Another thing I like to do is dungeon raiding.”

This caused the Demon Lord’s ear to twitch slightly.

“You mean where you go into a dungeon, one run by my minions, and slay them all, just to get the treasures held within?”

“Yeah, fun, right?”

Morrigan crosses her arms before her in an x shape and makes a buzzing noise, “Wrong. That’s not a date. You clearly have no idea what you are doing.”

Richard’s face contorts in frustration, souring over her attitude. “I was gonna suggest we grab a bite to eat afterward at least.”

“Ah there we go!” The dark-skinned demon bounced a little at his latest suggestion, her hair fluttering up in excitement with her. “That’s a start, good date idea!”

Smirking with pride at finally succeeding, the man crossed his arms over his chest and snorted out his nose. “No need to thank me, I am a master of the art of ‘courting’ after all. It will be great, I know the perfect tavern. This place has a ‘Lovers’ special! Half-priced drinks, free desserts and a shared plate of the best meats. Imagine the saving, Toots. That’s responsible courtship.” Turning to waggle his eyebrows seductively at her, “Nothing says romance like a good deal.”

Or at least that’s how he would have finished the statement if he hadn’t turned just in time to see the purple flames flicker away and the newspaper swinging towards him in blinding speed once again.

Morrigan returned to her seat at the bench once more, crossed her legs and turned to the side while puffing out her cheeks. The newspaper was still resting idly in her hand. “And here you were so close. Why can’t I just get a cute little date at a fine dining restaurant?”

“Is-is that all you wanted…?” Richard gurgled, having been reduced to a bruised mass at the other end of the bench, “I-I know a place…”

The Demon Lord paused, cutting her darkened eyes into a narrow glare of suspicion. “Go on. I am listening.”