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Azem is left for dead on a deserted island right before the Trojan War
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"Nope!" he says cheerfully before taking a bite. "The smell is quite indicative of my fuckup."

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"That's possible? You are not selling me on this whole 'food preparation is worthwhile' thing."

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"Chryseis will hopefully inherit your ability to eat raw things, so that will not be a problem."

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"That's quite a lot of assumptions packed into one sentence, I'm impressed."

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He grins again, then takes another bite from his burnt bird.

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"You know, I'd been planning to try cooked bird, but I think I'll pass for now until it's less.... icky smelling."

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"That is a reasonable choice," he agrees, munching away.

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She spends a little while gazing fondly at him, then scoots closer and (tentatively, slowly) wraps her arms around him to snuggle him.

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He perks right up at that and wiggles a bit into her arms.

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Eutelia makes a little pleased hum, resting her head on his shoulder and giving him an affectionate squeeze.

“I have the strangest urge to declare mine! keep you in my arms forever, and perhaps growl at anyone that looks at you strangely. It’s very weird. ... Promise that I won’t go mad with jealousy if you take another wife, and do something crazy like kill our children or give you a cursed tunic in a bid to magically attract you or try to get my father to avenge me or... something.”

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"Yeah, please do none of those things. Especially the tunic thing."

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Absolutely not. ... I’m sorry, I’ve upset you.”

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"—don't worry about it. Just a little bit of a sore spot. I was the one who... lit his pyre."

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“Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry, I. I’d heard a bit about his death, but. I didn’t know.”

She gives him a little squeeze, again.

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"I suspect he's a god now though so all is well that ends well."

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This earns him a little giggle-snort.

“Quite. Congratulations to him if he managed it.”

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"There was a whole light show! It was impressive."

Om nom burnt bird.

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“Sounds it!” She nuzzles him and makes another happy little hum. Apparently someone is enjoying the snuggles very much.

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Zotikos sure ain't complaining.

And then he is done eating.

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Snuuuuuggle.

“Hmm. I think I don’t want any... I don’t know, promises of fidelity or that I’ll be your only wife, or that you’ll never tire of me or. Something. Or to be specific, I think those would be monumentally stupid and that I’d rather we just trust each other instead of getting all hissy about needing promises that could very well come back and bite us in the... ankle. Or fin for me, I suppose.”

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"That... seems like something rather likely to happen to ones such as us, doesn't it? I would not be surprised if the Moirai were just watching us right now and laughing."

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"Quite. ... Also, I should mention, ah. There's a... an incentive, I suppose, for I and my sisters to win the hearts of mortal men. I... don't think I can be any more specific than that, because you know. Prophecies."

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"O...kay? That sounds ominous."

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“It’s not, I’m the only one that benefits. Possibly any children I have? But it’s not so much a proper prophecy as just... a weird half god quirk. A good one.”

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"Well, we are already discussing the likelihood that you are my muse, I suppose it cannot hurt."

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