But it was not a starved man of lust, as anyone walking in there would suspect. Instead it was one of need. A need to serve his true purpose, a need to be a power. A need to have subjects beneath him, a need to be worshipped and wanted.

A need to be a god.

"I am your god," he murmured.

Slowly, she closed her eyes. "I know," she confessed, honestly, feeling the rising power within herself. The source of which lay on him. "I know."

"I'm a fucking god," he whispered, "And I need a piece of ancient magic and a lump of unbreakable metal to be able to see into your mind. That should not be how it is."

She began to breathe harder, heart thumping faster too. Uncertainty filled her, not knowing where this might lead to. As his grip on her tightened even more she gasped and he was speaking in a hissing, angered voice, full of malcontent and a century of disgust.

"Stare, you are mine for all time. No matter what happens, what I do, what things come, I will not lose you. And this is not said because I am some sick-hearted lover. None of this is about romance, lust, desire for your body. It is purely about me, claiming your personhood. As I should be able to do. Many gods in the past have done, chosen their paladins, their messiahs and prophets. This is me doing the same." He grinned. "High priestess."

A shiver ran down her spine as he said it. Closing her eyes she reminded herself who it was who was behind her. Even though he had just told her it all, she now needed to coax her mind to completely accept it.

After a while his hold relaxed.

"We need to go," he whispered. He embraced her for one more long minute before his hands let go of her forearms. There was a brief pause before he let go of her completely, sliding his arms from underneath and around her.

At a moment's rest Stare took a long breath in, then curled up into a foetal position. Arms clutched around her legs and she buried her beak under the covers.

Behind her the man with streaming white hair watched her quietly. He found himself smiling softly, and entirely satisfied. In her mind currently he saw the depths of her understanding for who he was and what she meant to him. Acceptance ... Appreciation.

"Breakfast," he announced, pushing himself up from the bed.

"Yeah," she murmured.

He looked at her, then sat up fully, covers falling down to his waist.

"And then we will go north."

"So no ape-orcs?" she mumbled.

He laughed softly. "Perhaps right after. But before then we have my mercenaries to protect.'