Demonic Delights and Holy Cupcakes

Clowning Around

Murchadh should have known that the silk gown that the shop owner had told him were night clothes wasn't the appropriate clothing for the situation. He had taken one look at it and knew that Ferya would not wear it, not to sit with him and watch a movie about clowns, but he hoped he was just missing an integral part of the instructions given to him.

But they had been less instructions and more random observations. Brief, half explained concepts were all that had been offered at the time and he hadn't thought the concept was so complicated. It hadn't seemed complicated. So he had not bothered to ask more questions about.

He stood in the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror and sighing softly. The Tuath Dé had very ornate and majestic rituals for everything from pre-battle to courting to marriage, but his people held emotions tightly in check for most occasions. They needed rituals to express important things to one another.

And spending most of his life on the battlefield or alone and forgotten had not prepared him for trying to court Ferya.

The only person who seemed to notice the small, delicate things he did for Ferya was her, and Murchadh was honestly only concerned with Ferya's approval. But he knew that he needed to make more of an effort to show her affection, so he had listened to advice he had received months ago from Urdu's mate.

And that advice left him holding up a one piece, fuzzy outfit that looked like one of Ferya's stuffed toys had been skinned, wondering if the night could get any less like he had planned.

With a shake of his head, Murchadh stripped out of his clothing and armour, leaving his underclothes on and stepping into the outfit. It fit him, barely, his feet covered to look like paws and shoulders stretching out against the material that was thankfully soft. It was warm enough that he unzipped it a little way down his chest, folding his clothing into a pile on the counter and walking out into the apartment.

His ears picked up the sound of delicate popping noises and he followed them to the kitchen, where Ferya was shaking a pot on the stove. She was garbed in fuzzy pants and a shirt that were covered in, of all things, unicorns.

The brilliant smile she gave him was enough to convince him that he could wear this damned outfit as often as she wanted, if only to make her happy. "Oh, pull up your hood! I just want to see!"

Murchadh raised a querulous brow, but followed her direction, barking a laugh when he saw a reflection of himself in the window. It was a bear. He was dressed up as one of her stuffed bears. "You..."

"Ahh.. I love it." She grinned and rushed across the kitchen, hugging him tightly and burying her face in his chest. "I know it's ridiculous, and I won't make you do it again."

Murchadh idly pulled the hood to her shirt up, chuckling when it exposed a unicorn head. "I might not be able to be considered a fearsome General if anyone sees me in this in public."

"But you're not fearsome, Merk." She squeezed him once more, blushing a bit before turning back to the pot, shaking it a couple more times before pulling off the lid and pouring popcorn into a bowl that was waiting on the counter. "Not to me."

"You get all my nice, Ferie..." He murmured softly, watching her move about as he pulled the hood off his head.

She poured butter on the popcorn before handing him the bowl and grabbing two glasses of water, leading the way out into the living room where the machine was waiting to play whatever movie the shopkeeper had recommended to him.

There was a picture of a little boy in a yellow coat and red balloon on the front, though the rest of the scene was dark, and after the silk night gown's success, he had a growing sense of foreboding.