Slowly Vitruvion let out a long sigh. An obvious look of pain passed over his face as he considered a subject that had apparently been a sore subject for him. Stare frowned at him, a dark frown, as she considered the other times she had ever seen that look. Once there had been a time in the Hollow, where Hugin had brought Reign into a council meeting as his 'own’ sex slave. Then there had been the time they had first discovered the existence of his brother. Then more recently, Vitruvion had stood on a hill overlooking Bane Wood village and he had sent her away, saying that they could not go seek the ape-orcs together, a possible species that, like her own, had been banished from Vitruvion's homeworld to this one by his father. That day she had learnt of the deep trust for her that neither of them really admitted but knew was there. A similar emotion to-

“That was the day,” he said quietly.

Focusing and realising she had been dosing she looked at him. “What?”

“That was the day …” he said again, his eyes steady with hers, “That I decided to do something …”

There was a pause. Stare hated suspense right now. After all she was chained to a frigging bed.

“To do what?” she demanded in a harsh tone.

“Stare,” he sighed at her tone. But then he went on. “That was the day I decided to do something about your … mortality.”

Silence fell. Stare blinked, confused. “Sorry, I did not quite get that last bit. Did you said mort-”

“'Mortality,’ indeed,” the god nodded, now starting to sound a little more like his usual self. “That which allows you to die and never come back.”

Die and-

Stare blinked, her eyes wild with expressions. Uncertainty, shock, disbelief, confusion.

“Mort …”

What the Ansaldo's balls ...

Vitruvion's face changed slightly. He went from looking at her concerned to having a small brightness in his eyes. Colour came to his face as his lips formed a line and in the corner they twitched up into - into a - a smirk …

Fuck.

“Oh my …” she whispered, as she stared at him in utter horror.

His smirk grew, and there he was back. The god who ruled her world, her life, her existence …

“Fucking bastard,” she shrieked and tried to go for him.

Naturally she forgot two things in that fit of rage. One, he was a god - her god to be precise - and two, she was chained to the bed. What occurred was that she sort of uselessly flailed and slumped as chains rattled and she glared at the man before her who was now honestly smiling.

“I spent those three days meeting with the Raiaeran god of immortality,” he spoke quietly. “I gave him my plight, he offered me assistance and discovered it did not go against any of the treaty I signed with them when I came here. We worked on the enchantment and it took time but … well …”

He gestured at her as she hissed darkly.

“You won't age, now. Instead-”

“You couldn't just leave me alone, could you?” She shrieked, she glowered and glared at him. “You couldn't just let me die, let me live my life?!”