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The Definition of Dating

The spell of spices and smoke swirls into the air, enhancing the sight of the delicious dishes laid before them all. The table is lavishly decorated with flowers and intricate ornaments, the entire room bursting with colors. Soft music plays in the background, brought by a boombox in a corner.

Morgan raises an empty glass into the air. “This feast is for you, my fairy knights. Fill your belly. Enjoy this night. This is for you, and you alone.”

Barghest bows her head. “I thank you, my queen. Though if I may inquire, who prepared such dishes? I could have done it myself, if you had so desired.”

“I drafted the Chaldea cooking staff for this purpose. I have compensated them accordingly, of course. Raise your head, fairy knight Gawain. Though your skills are impressive, I wanted this night to be one of leisure for you, not work.”

Mélusine nods to herself. “Ah, this is nice. Truly, the queen knows how to party.”

Baobhan Sith skips towards the table, grinning wide. “Ah, mother, your generosity knows no bounds! I will not let any of this go to waste.”

Mash stands in place. She looks left. Looks right. And then, hesitantly, she speaks up. “Why… am I here?”

Immediately, silence falls over the room.

“That is a good question.” Mélusine is the first one to speak out loud. “I didn’t question it because Mash comes to all our events anyways, but why is she here? I thought this was fairy knight only?”

“She is a knight of the Round Table. She has certainly earned her place among us.” Barghest replies.

“But not of the fairy Round Table. You do have to admit it is a bit strange that she was invited.”

“Hah? Are you saying Mother made a mistake?” Baobhan Sith bares her teeth, canine shining under the artificial lights. “You wanna go?”

“Still, Baobhan Sith.” Morgan raises her hand, palm up, and silence falls in the room once more. “It is true that Sir Kyrielight is not a knight of the fairy Round Table. However, as a knight, she is second to none; and as my consort, she has well earned her place in my court.”

“I see.” Barghest nods. “That is very sound.”

There is a beat.

“As your what?!”

“My consort.” Morgan repeats herself. Then, unhelpfully, she elaborates: “my lover. My beloved. My partner. My girlfriend.”

“Hehe, girlfriend.” Mélusine snickers. “I never thought I would hear that word in the Queen’s mouth.”

Baobhan Sith stares at Mash, eyeing her up and down. “… I… suppose you proved your worth to Mother. But you should have asked for my blessing before courting her! Am I not her daughter?!”

“Does that make Mash your mother-in-law?” Mélusine asks.

“I am not calling her that.”

“That would be a rather long title.” Barghest muses out loud. “Perhaps something shorter would be better? Mom? Mama?”

“I am not calling her that!”  

“I- I thought you were married to Senpai??” Mash squeaks out in disbelief.

Morgan’s eyebrow quirks up by two whole millimeters.

“A spouse and a lover are two different things, Mash.” Mélusine tells her. “Don’t you know that?”

“You go out of your way to spend time with me, and I go out of mine to spend time with you.” Morgan says with a flat voice. “We regularly go on outings alone together. I have spent the night in your room, and you have spent it in mine. Does this not, under modern human definition, qualify as dating?”

“I-” Mash wants to argue, say it’s common sense, you can’t just claim you’re dating someone without discussing it prior, also you’re down to be in a romantic relationship with me?? Why is this new to me?? But she, better than anyone, knows how stubborn Tonelico used to be, and the madness enhancement can’t have done her any favor on this point. So instead, she says: “We haven’t ever kissed?? We never even held hands??”

“We have. As recently as yesterday, in fact. In the simulator.” Argh! She is right! Morgan had extended a hand to help Mash up after a particularly rough fight. She’d indulged in letting her hand linger in Morgan’s- not for long, just a few seconds, only as many as she thought she could get away with without betraying her feelings. “As for kissing, I need not any physical affection as proof of our relationship. I am perfectly fine taking things at your pace.”

“I-” at this point Mash’s face is beet red. Her hands are shaking. Emotions are swirling wildly beneath her skin. “Do you even like me at all?”

“I love you.” Morgan does not elaborate. As if she had said everything that needed saying. As if that simple fact was so obvious that she had nothing to add at all.

“Did I hear that right?”

“She said it! The L-word!”

“To think the queen would be such a romantic…”

Mash barely computes the fairy knights gossiping next to her. She opens her mouth. Closes it. Walks up to Morgan. “So. Okay. So. If I did want to kiss you. And- and maybe more. That would be fine? You would… want that?”

“You are my consort. Kissing me is a right I have granted you willingly.” Morgan nods. “But once more, we shall go at your pace. If it takes you months, years, decades to accept my lips on yours- I am willing to wait. You are well worth it.”

“Okay. Okay. Cool cool cool.” Mash takes a deep breath. “Just checking.”

Morgan opens her mouth, presumably to answer. No sound make it out of her throat, however; Mash suddenly pushes her against a table, grabs her by the collar, and forces her down into a passionate kiss. Morgan’s hand flail for a second, until they finally land on top of the table to stop her from tumbling over.

“The food!”

“Mélusine!”

“It’s going to be wasted if they topple the plates over-”

“They’re having a moment! Let them be!”

Mash breaks the kiss. She’s panting. Morgan’s face is unchanged, but her breathing is noticeably heavier.

“… My queen,” her hands trail down, to Morgan’s hips, “would you be amenable to continue this conversation… elsewhere?”

Morgan blinks. She turns her head towards the fairy knights.

“Make sure to tell the kitchen staff if you enjoy the food.”

Then Mash hauls her up, like a knight carrying a princess, and the two of them disappear through the front door.

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