Mad God's Love [Dark, enemies-to-lovers BL]

8 V 2

"We do not need your help," he reiterated after commotion died off. "Nor are we able to assist you or the others. We have just enough for ourselves. Leave."

The tall fighter did not relent, "You misunderstand. There are many ways to cooperate. You could operate as a safe house for travelling convoys or provide intelligence on surrounding areas. We could open a regular trade route. New documents could be issued and passages opened to urban centres." That suddenly did seem like a good deal. Tad too good and it immediately made me suspicious by default.

"We could go into cities?" somebody asked loudly in a slew of hushed whispers.

"Of course. You are our citizens," the captain confirmed fervidly.

Odd. On both sides. Getting into a city wasn't that hard. Perhaps the bumpkins never tried because of the long trek to reach one? And military men thought too highly of their impenetrable defences? Because nobody ever checked identities of those already inside. Branded people were the only ones to get the occasional boot.

"Who's that guy?" I asked Almoner and he did confirm the intrigued speaker was one of their own. Priest's fellow, picked up out the wastes before they even got here.

"You think it's a bad idea?" healer asked and I shrugged. Really didn't have an opinion.

"I grew up in place ran by military. Their shenanigans would seem normal to me. But..." I concentrated and gave it a big think. "They probably intend to leave a garrison permanently. To ensure safety of their whatever. You'd have to do what person with a gun tells you to. And they wouldn't let just anyone walk around like that," I gestured towards the armed crowd. Some wore brands. Yeah, definitely not these fellows. But even now the villagers just listened to scary-looking motherfuckers who would sack them in the teeth for nasty look, so would it really be all that different?

Old man deliberated with his cronies and must have reached a similar conclusion. "However beneficial your offer is, we do not want strangers traipsing around. Nor your assistance necessary."

"Is that because of the mouth who lives here?"

Chilling quiet extinguished the whispers. Even the idiots were catching up that something was not quite what it seemed here, in case they missed a memo of war band watching them from afar.

"What do you mean?" old man feebly played senility card. His scratchy voice certainly assisted with the illusion, even if the strong frame denied it. The enemy didn't see it.

"We have a report of a man defeating foreign entity, then flipping van back and driving here."

"Ah... you mean travelling merchant? We have nothing to do with that."

"And what about the other mouth? One with horns." Our number was up. They began revealing their cards.

Gut-wrenching tension was present and I couldn't hold back, especially since nobody else had any handy excuses on hand, "That's just our Parkinson. He's going through a phase." The crowd gaped at me – some with horror, others just frowning. I shrugged, whispering the explanation to them, "You know, because of the..." I exaggerated tremors on my hands for show. Several frowns turned into pity or disgust and I rolled my eyes. These god damn bumpkins understood nothing.

"We mean no harm to you or your... allies. But we are coming in and assessing the settlement," military man stated. "For one, you are restricting passage through public lands. Two, as stated, you still are part of this country and we must ensure the laws are being abided to."

"Three, take our food!" one of the crowd yelled at the sunset.

"That is entirely unimportant right now. I am tasked to make a census and accurate map of land we realistically hold."