Mutta would continue their lesson up there while he fought? It wouldn't work well, but if he didn't get some kind of exercise soon he'd start going soft.
“Does sex count as exercise?” He asked abruptly, but it got her to smile and set the book in her hand aside.
“That depends on how you do it. Want to try?” She seemed interested in helping with that chore, so he nodded his head seriously.
“As long as you talk to me while we do it. In Noram standard preferably, since you can't speak properly. Backwoods I mean. But you could pray at me in Tellerand right now for all I care.”
They actually went up on the deck and at first he thought she was proposing they have sex against the railing, overlooking the ocean itself. It was a little more public than he'd like, but he had to admit, it would get the heart racing. She was just leading him to her room though. It was bigger than his by two thirds and had a huge bed in it. He hadn't been in it physically, but the layout was familiar, having come from his thoughts originally. No one else seemed to notice, but the whole ship felt like Tor. Even the kitchen and restrooms were built to his standards, not anyone else. He'd made the facilities a bit bigger, knowing giants would be around, but that was all. Ursala hit her clothing amulet to turn it off and told him to pick her up and fuck her while she faced him.
Given their sizes it shouldn't have worked at all, but he found he could do it, especially as she chanted naughty encouragements at him to go faster and not stop. Finally, spent and panting after twenty minutes they fell on the bed together.
“Not bad! I must weigh fifty percent more than you do, but you didn't even slow down. God, you're stronger than you look, you know? Anyway, catch your breath and we'll start the next part.”
Tor had to give her a funny look, since he couldn't speak yet. There was a next part? Well, he'd try. Hopefully it wouldn't kill him or anything.
They slept together in her bed that night, and in the morning he woke already aroused. She chuckled and used her hands on him, since, she assured him, it would be faster that way, at least the way she did it. Her fist blurred at times and pleasure ripped through him, but he was able to get to work on time.
Then, of course, the old schedule resumed with a vengeance, since people were starting to get restless and didn't want to help with cooking duty any more. On the eighth day no one showed up to help with dinner at all. Looking around the empty kitchen he almost just dove in and tried to struggle his way through, but then realized that if he did that, people would keep missing their shifts, just dumping everything on him. They didn't have a cook or baker, or any other crew except the fighters and Royal Guard, and he was trying to make it all work, but really his main job right now should have been getting ready to build rivers and being an Ambassador. Shrugging he decided it was passive aggressive mutiny time then. Really he wondered if most of them would get the idea, but nothing for it but to try, right?
Tor made a large pot of oatmeal, one of the giant pots that he could barely lift when full, toasted someday old bread, and put out honey for it. Then he made half a roast fowl for Mutta with elaborate trimmings and fixings. She was an Ambassador and didn't fall under his ire on this one after all, no one expected her to wash dishes or cut vegetables. They better not at least.
Plus, really, also being an Ambassador, he wanted to remind her how he should be treated once they got to her place. Good food and attentive care. It probably wouldn't happen, he knew, what with him being male, but it was worth a shot.
The way people yelled and grumbled you would have thought he'd kicked them in the collective groins. It was a thought, but since any one of them would probably kick his butt without thinking, a few just by falling on him, Tor decided to save that option for later.
“But…” The big scary Baron sputtered loudly, “I hate pottage!” He cried piteously enough that people made sympathetic noises.
“Oh? Good then. This is oatmeal cereal, not pottage, that would have slivers of sugared meat in it.” He grinned when he said it, but the large Baron didn't seem placated for some reason.
Tor pointed out softly, not raising his voice at all, that no one had shown up to help, so he figured to everyone was bored with eating interesting food and just wanted something plain and wholesome. In other words what they were getting from now on unless he had help at meals. There was a return trip too, he pointed out casually, gesturing at his own bowl of oatmeal with his black focus stone spoon. A few of the wooden chairs scratched on the floor, but no one spoke. From the glares he was getting from nearly everyone it became plain that no girls were magically going to find his bed that night either. He considered announcing to the room that he'd like some company just to see what they said, but realized that might be taken as an invitation to poison him, or stab him in his sleep.
Trice made a big circle in the air with her spoon and dug in, liberal dollops of honey on the top of hers.
“Actually this is really good Tor. Thanks.” She took a big bite and smiled at him.
Everyone else glared, except Mutta who just started coaching him in Afrak again. She was a hard and driven instructor, but he had no doubt he was learning more than just how to speak her tongue. His knowledge of biological sciences had increased a thousand times in the last days, going from something around “things breed and have babies” to understanding that small changes in the information that make something up, when copied thousands, millions, of times and allowed to grow can make complex and lasting changes to a developing creature.
Or field, his mind put in excitedly.
It made sense. What was a living thing but a growing and evolving field of information that organized physical properties? Could that be adapted to his building work? It would be a little slower, but what it took from him, the effect on his field, would be less too, and he could have a lot more novel builds going at once. It was worth a shot. Unfortunately he didn't have any growing plants on board to look at, and doing more than searching how a plants field worked was silly right now. Using another human would take too much time and have effects on him too. Probably.
The next morning he found a half dozen volunteers waiting for him and rewarded everyone by making egg toast and sausages as well as eggs and just to keep things sharply in mind for everyone a small pot of oatmeal. No sweet rolls, but no one dared speak about it to him, if they spoke at all. Heh. Well, it seemed like someone had gotten the idea at least. Probably Kolb and Wensa.
Then, the Royal Guardsmen hadn't complained about the food the night before, had they? No they just ate it, without even making faces.
It took longer to make the southern port than he'd figured it would, ten days instead of seven. When he asked Petra about it she grinned.
“On the way back we can make it a lot faster, a few days probably. I went slow to kill time and get people used to being on board. Plus, how often do I get to play sea Captain on a real ship? I had to pull rank just to get people to leave you alone so you could study with Ambassador Mutta though. The girls kept talking about sneaking you off and having their way with you. Not just the ones you know either. A couple of Royal Guards actually had a plan in place to nab you after dinner a week ago. I'd have been in on it myself, but I actually have to steer this thing between meals. If you help pilot at night we can make it back way faster. I've been going dead while I sleep. Short shift on it, but still…”
He kissed her, and told her that they'd make time for sex if he had to come and do her while she drove back. Petra told him it sounded fun and made him promise.
They laughed, because they both knew they weren't doing anything of note in Afrak. Mutta had flat out told him that people would freak out if anyone suggested that anyone ever had sex outside of marriage. Tor passed the word to the commanders of their separate groups. If they weren't careful half the crew would end up married. Fine if that's what they wanted, but awkward if some guy or gal thought they were just getting a little friendly and exotic sex only to find they were expected to set up house permanently. It would look bad if they lost a big chunk of the crew after all and Tor wasn't going to let them escape the duty if it came up.
It could cause an incident if they did that after all.
It didn't matter, they were there to work and Tor had a plan of sorts. Mainly he was dumping the duty of getting food on Mutta, who seemed half panicked about it, which Tor took as a good sign. A ten person flying team, led by Wensa, being a woman and naturally bossy, was to set up all the rivers while everyone else followed the mapped out lines for the water outlets. The Afraks would get to set up the irrigation and all the plants. It seemed fair to him, in fact it was the deal they'd made. He'd get the water in and out for them and they'd do the rest of the
