The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

Chapter 325: The King

After sending Streak back to his pack, thanking and 'dismissing' his players, and saying another round of thanks and goodbye to the elves, Mason was ready to go home to his girls. Mostly.

Naya stopped him at the door, saying they needed to discuss the wedding and that everything was basically prepared.

"Haley and I worked out the details," she explained, smiling a little. "She cooked for me. Which…didn’t go so well. But then we tried again, just the two of us, and had a wonderful walk. We're getting along, you'll be glad to hear. I think we understand each other, and shouldn't disrupt your house when we begin married life."

Mason nod-shrugged, very ready to escape, and maybe just be alone awhile. The thought of some grand ceremony and managing all his girls' emotions was suddenly almost more trouble than it was worth.

He grit his teeth, reminding himself this wasn't a God damn reality tv show. All their lives hung in the balance and maybe all his women problems were too much distraction.

"Is something wrong?" Naya asked, stepping out and closing the door behind her. Mason met her eyes and shrugged again, not sure how to articulate all the pressure he felt.

The Nexus figurine was burning a hole in his pocket. God only knew how things were about to change when he activated it—how many people or settlements were going to suddenly exist, and apparently know who Mason was.

Plus Naya wasn't even human. She wasn't 'playing' the game—she was a creation of the game. How could Mason explain that this alien creature had obliterated everything mankind once knew? That it had kidnapped them, butchered them, toyed with them. That even now there were lights blinking in front of his eyes in some kind of permanent HUD a machine-god built into his brain?

"There's so much happening. I'm having trouble keeping up," he finally said. Naya smiled. She came forward and put her hands on his chest.

"Do you want to know why Haley and I e to an understanding?" Mason shrug-nodded again and the beautiful elf grinned. "We both feared the other would be a rival. That in the future the other might fear for her children and do something...rash. That when you were out building your kingdom, or protecting your kind, we might turn on each other out of fear."

Mason knew a little about the history of kings and their wives and harems. This definitely wasn't a ridiculous concern. But he didn't see why she'd be smiling about it.

"I'm not afraid anymore because..." Naya shrugged. "Because Haley and I both agree on what a wife is. That...if you fail, we fail. I believe your concubine wants only the best for you. That she has already sworn her fate to yours. That she would die to protect you. She is, in other words, already your wife."

Mason nodded, because of course she was. He didn’t bother correcting the ‘concubine’ thing because it wasn’t exactly far off. And he didn't need some priest or word or scrap of paper telling him what was what.

"Which...is why..." Naya looked down and seemed suddenly nervous. "She and I...we thought...we might have our own...private ceremony. Where we both...where we were equals...not first, or second. Or wife and concubine. The rest..." she shrugged. "The wedding. The titles. It's just...ceremony. It's just for others."

Mason nodded, starting to understand, and feel a bit more relaxed. Somehow Haley had figured it out in his absence. She'd give Naya the formality she needed, and give Mason the reality he needed.

Becky and Rosa wouldn't be happy with Naya's magical appearance and place in their beds or home. But they'd get over it. Or they wouldn’t. Mason didn't have time or energy for drama.

"OK," he said, taking one of Naya's hands and giving it a squeeze. "Thanks for...adapting," he said. "We have some settlement work to do. So I'll be here awhile. At least I hope. And we can sort out the wedding and living situation and..." he shrugged. "All of it."

Naya nodded but still looked slightly shy.

"What is it?" Mason asked. Naya moved even closer, practically pressing herself against him.

"Haley thought...the moment you arrived...she thought we shouldn't wait. That we should...that we three need to be together. And strong. Of one mind. That the rest would follow."

"Where is she?" Mason raised an eyebrow, his mind focusing now on the warmth and softness of the elf's chest pressing against him. The nervousness in her eyes.

"In the hall. Waiting for you. Waiting for...us."

Mason finally understood what was happening. His heart beat a little faster, and he laced his fingers with Naya's, grinning when she met his eyes.

"OK. Let's go."

* * *

Mason was a bit worried he'd find Becky and Rosa in the chief's hall first, and have to deal with fiery Mexican aggression, and slightly less fiery, or maybe passive cowgirl aggression. Neither much appealed to him.

But it seemed their personal wing was more or less empty. Lexi wasn't there either, and even the kitchen was quiet.

"In the bedroom," Naya said, still holding Mason's hand, her palm a little sweaty. He led her inside and found Haley reading in bed. She looked up at them with her big, blue eyes and grinned.

"I asked Sylvie to help. With the others. They'll be quite busy. For hours."

Mason nodded, pulse picking up even more.

"I should take a quick shower," he said. Haley nodded and reached a hand towards Naya.

"We'll be here."

He gave Naya a quick kiss on the forehead, then let her go and got undressed. He cranked the heat of the shower as far as it would go, standing for a moment with closed eyes to wash off the never-ending intensity that seemed his new life.

Flashes of undead monsters and his own brutal injuries made a short film in his mind. He saw the dragon trying to eat Becky, no idea if it would suddenly succeed and if he'd watch his lover vanish into its jaws.

He felt his helplessness in the Fey, some invisible predator stalking him and Streak in shadows he couldn't pierce. As usual he saw giant gnolls in the tutorial, roaring and trying to rip him apart.

He counted.

Sixty seconds, he decided—a minute of terror and misery, of feeling weak and sorry for himself, knowing he could die at any time. Then he'd cut it off.

He only made it to thirty before he let out a breath, startled as the darkness of his lids vanished, replaced by the green and gold eyes of Cerebus, his proud antlers rising above a crimson sunrise.

"Do not fear it, Ranger," said the nature ‘god’, deep voice blowing as if on the wind. "There would be no strength without weakness. Your druid god thinks she alone knows wisdom. But thought without deed is for cowards. And you are no coward, Mason. You have surprised me. You and your pack. Remember your victories. Remember the might that is your reward."

More images flashed through Mason's mind uncalled—his growing strength and powers and the endless victories in battle. The eyes of the women that followed him everywhere. He saw the hope and pride in the bearing of his players and followers.

He felt Duality of Strength flare, but not as an image in his mind, in reality. Except this time not to change his body.

It was like the warm water of the shower pouring into his soul. He felt himself standing taller, his hands closing into fists, his doubts washing down the drain.

"You are not alone," Cerebus whispered in Mason's waking druid dream. "You and your pack walk in the footsteps of greatness. Towards your glory, and to mine. I will guide you. When you feel as if you will fall, look to your kin. And look to me.”

Mason opened his eyes and breathed. A slow smile crept across his face, his chaotic mind steadying with remembered purpose.

Things had changed. But Mason was the same man who'd gone into the woods to save his brother. It was just more complicated now. There were more people and problems and details, all of which Mason hated, all of which drove him to distraction and frankly he wasn't very good at solving.

But it was true. He wasn't alone. He had his 'pack', his house, his animals, his tribe. And yes, he maybe had some kind of strange, fictional, bizarrely comforting patron-god of his own, who somehow managed to say just what Mason needed to hear.

He shivered and turned off the water, for a moment reveling in the strength of his body, the moist air in his lungs, the pleasure of being alive.

He stepped out in nothing but a towel, the intoxicating feminine scents of Haley and Naya hitting him like cooking meat after a day without food.

Haley was giggling and whispering in a quiet voice, and Mason found them standing by the bed fussing with some kind of clothes. They turned when they saw Mason, and he realized they were putting on formal gowns.

Naya had the colorful silks she'd worn in their marriage negotiation, full body covered in wrapping layers. Haley had an actual, white wedding dress.

"We ran out of time for shoes," she said with a little pout, her eyes going up and down Mason's body. "And you are very under dressed."

Their smiles faded when they looked into his eyes. Naya bowed her head formally, and even Haley put her hands together as if suddenly unsure.

Mason knew why.

Partially it was the strength he'd regained with a moment to himself, and probably the boost Cerebus had given him with some kind divine kick in the pants.

But more than anything, it was the way Mason had felt when he saw Cerebus standing in the sunrise—his proud neck extended, his eyes fearless, claiming everything he saw.

The fearsome 'horned god' had been trying to tell him all along, Mason just wasn't listening. But now he was.

His eyes didn't move over Haley and Naya like a man with lust for two women, or even as a husband assessing his wives.

He had claimed this hall, and this great forest, and everything inside it. He'd claimed it by deed, by blood, with cunning and strength matched against all who'd faced him.

He'd survived against gnolls and orcs and goblins, against other players and a druid-slaying giant. Against a dragon that just didn't know when to die.

Mason dropped his towel and moved towards his women, not concerned in that moment what they wanted or how they thought, or about their situation, or about anything.

They could work out the details how they liked, it made no difference. They belonged to him in the same way Nassau did. In the same way his House and the Nexus did. Because he was their king.