Paralogue 6

Made with Love

Rufina drags Mitrofan out of his stuffy office for some fresh air. But as the Aggron finds out, it's hardly a selfish move on her part.

(Spoilers for Chapter 18)

Mitrofan sat at his desk, doing paperwork. It was one of his basic duties as Guildmaster, to make sure everything in his Guild ran like clockwork. And as the most storied and famous guild in Selenia, founded by the legendary Team Hope themselves, he had to make sure that legacy was to be upheld.

After all, the Guild was a bestowment to him by his predecessor. The Aggron had every intention of seeing that Yaromir didn't make a poor choice by electing him as Guildmaster. There were critics that doubted his ability to lead the Guild since his nomination, and he was determined to prove them wrong.

Thankfully, those voices had become quieter over time, at least within the Guild. Nearly everyone had been convinced he was great Guildmaster material. With such confidence in him, Mitrofan became even more determined to keep up the good work and not let them down.

He finished another paper, and went to dip his pen back in the inkwell. He had spent the morning filling out page after page of paperwork and he had managed to whittle down the pile of paper down to about half the size it had been.

Still more to go, then. Mitrofan let out a sigh as he pulled his pen out of the well, and resumed his work.

However, he didn't get long into it before he heard three knocks on his office door. They were a very familiar set of knocks - which the Aggron knew all too well.

The door was opened, and in strode a Haxorus - one very close to Mitrofan's heart. Under her arm, she carried a wicker basket.

"Rufina…" Mitrofan had mixed feelings about seeing his wife right now. On one hand, he was happy to see his beloved. But on the other… "I'm busy right now."

"I know. And I don't care." Rufina gestured to the pile of paper on his desk. "Doesn't this bore you, doing all this paperwork? It'd drive me up the wall if I had to do this day in, day out."

"It has to be done. Whether I like it or not doesn't matter." Mitrofan put the pen back in the inkwell. "This paperwork needs to be done if the Guild is to regularly function."

"I know, I know. But you know…you need to get out of this cycle of endlessly doing paperwork. It's not good for your posture." The Haxorus put down the basket, walked over and placed her claws on Mitrofan's back. "Imagine being hunched over all the damn time. That'll ruin your back and your neck." Her voice sounded more teasing rather than concerned, though.

"This coming from a dragon with a hunched back? How rich," Mitrofan quipped.

"Oh, Mitt, you sly hunk of metal, you!" Rufina went in and began to tickle him.

"Ah! Get away!" The Aggron swatted away his wife's tickles, finding himself laughing at his wife's playful decision.

"I'll stop tickling you once you agree to get out and get some fresh air!" The Haxorus never let up. "Come on! Up out of your chair!"

"Alright, alright! I'll get up!" Mitrofan got up out of his chair. "Just stop tickling me!"

"Good! You're learning!" Rufina did as he asked. "Guess my charms still work on you."

"They always do. Now what are we going to do?"

"Go outside, of course. Where else? The Guild's stuffy enough at the best of times. And it's especially stuffy today."

"But there's barely anyone in the Guild today..." It was quiet, hence why he chose to do paperwork to avail of that blissful silence. Not even Aldebrand was in today; he'd been told to come in later in the afternoon to prepare dinner.

"I know what I said, Mitt. Now come on."

The couple made their way out of the Guild and to the grassy fields that lay beside the path to Iria itself. These were fields that some mercenary teams practised in with the guidance of Galen, the dojo master. Being Guild members for nearly a decade now, both Mitrofan and Rufina had done the same on a number of occasions.

But it was also used for grazing and relaxation whenever Guild members wished to catch a moment of repose. Based on the prior conversation, Mitrofan could tell Rufina intended for this.

It was mid-afternoon, and the day was fairly nice. It had been raining earlier in the week, but the sun had come out in the past few days, with accompaniment of some overcast clouds. Rainfall looked unlikely, though.

"What's in the basket?" Mitrofan immediately asked, once he and Rufina sat down on the grass.

"It's a little present from me." Rufina pulled off the chequered cloth to reveal what lay inside. It was something that her husband wasn't expecting.

"A cake?"

Indeed it was - a chocolate cake. But on the cake was an intriguing design. Looking at it, Mitrofan couldn't help but think it resembled an Aggron's helm, flanked at its side by a Haxorus's tusks. Around the outer edge of the cake's top, a message had been written in icing.

"'Happy Silver Axe Anniversary!'?" he read.

"Yep. Don't you remember?" Rufina said. "We met each other on this day ten years ago and formed Team Silver Axe."

"It is?" Mitrofan was aghast? "...Creator's mane, has it really been ten years already?" He looked away in embarrassment.

"I had a feeling you'd forget. Always forgetting things like this in favour of work," Rufina admonished. "Good thing I didn't. And I gotta thank Stiliyan for this too."

"Stiliyan helped you?"

"In a way. He came home from school with a drawing he did in art class. He wanted to draw the two of us, but apparently it was 'too hard'." She snickered at that. "He just decided to draw two main features of each of us. Not the best drawing, but hey - he's still a kid. I copied it for the cake design."

"Indeed. He might well become a budding artist in time. That is, if he doesn't want to become Guildmaster like me."

"Tell me about it. We sure have one ambitious kid, didn't we?"

"We do indeed. …But enough talk. May I have some cake?"

"Go ahead. Brought a knife and everything."

Mitrofan took the knife and cut a slice of the cake. He took it in his hand and bit into it.

"...Mmm." He smacked his lips. "That is nice." He went for another bite, with an eagerness that was a familiar sight to his wife.

"Funny. You're all about politeness at the dinner table, but when you have something you really like, you'd gladly throw manners out the window to gobble up food," Rufina observed, a wry smile on her face. As she spoke, she cut a slice for herself.

"I-I have no idea what you're talking about," Mitrofan said, as he finished the slice.

"Don't hide it, Mitt. It's cute when you eat something you really like." Rufina dug into the slice she'd cut for herself. "...Heh. It'sh great," she said, her mouth full.

"I want another." Mitrofan took the knife again, and cut another slice. "Mmm…this is really nice. If I didn't know any better, I would think Zenobia made this."

"Oh, come on, Mitt, I'm not that good!" protested Rufina, having eaten her slice. "She'd knock it out of the park if she made this. My cooking's crap compared to hers."

"But you made this," Mitrofan pointed out. "That makes this better than any cake by a professional. The fact you took the time and effort to bake this makes me very happy."

"Glad you like it." The Haxorus leaned on her husband's side. "Hey, as long as my cooking's not being compared to Kallias's, I'll take it."

"You're certainly not that bad," Mitrofan said, with a shudder.

"You know, I've never actually tasted Kallias's cooking," Rufina noted. "...How bad is it?"

"How bad?" Memories of a blackened, goopy mess of a meal came back to the Guildmaster, back when he and Team Marshwood were on a joint mission together and Kallias had been on cooking duty. "...'Revolting' wouldn't do it justice. It can't be put in words just how vile it was."

"Renegade's tendrils," Rufina muttered mirthfully. "Sounds terrible."

"You have no idea…"

"Aww, it's okay, Mitt. I'll protect you from whatever monstrosity Kallias cooks up." The Haxorus traced her claw along Mitrofan's side.

"Does that mean whenever Kallias makes food, you'll eat it for me?"

"I never said that!" Rufina recoiled "I wouldn't in a million years eat something that disgusting! I'd bat it away! Or throw it into a river or something!"

"I'd fear for the ferals of that habitat." The Aggron had a silly grin on his face. "I wouldn't even throw it in the sea. It would need to be vaporised out of existence."

"Ha!" Rufina was laughing. "You're a riot, Mitt!"

"And you're a good cook, Rufina. Now then." Mitrofan reached for the basket. "I think I might go for another."

"Another? I'd be careful if I were you," warned Rufina. "Don't have too much now. Being Guildmaster doesn't mean much exercise with all that paperwork. And you've already got a bit of pudge on you." She poked the Aggron's belly.

"Th-That's not true!" he objected, getting defensive. "That's muscle, not fat! And I do plenty of training to keep myself in shape! It's natural for most Aggron to have that bulk!"

"Hardy har, Mitt. Just riling you up." Rufina cuddled up to her husband. "At least I know not much'll get through that thick hide of yours." She playfully smacked his side, which gave off a metallic ping as claws met iron.

"You see? Natural bulk," Mitrofan said.

"Whatever you say, Mitt." His wife looked back at the basket, now half eaten. "I would've gotten you iron ore, which I know you love, but I kinda wanted something that we could share together."

"For the better you did. Because this really is nice." Mitrofan had finished his third slice, and was reaching for the knife again. "Goodness, this cake is more-ish. You did a great job with it, Rufina."

"You must be hungry, if you're having this much cake."

"You know as well as I do that I don't do little portions, Rufina. You know my appetite."

"Of course you do, you big hunk. You need all that food to fuel your strength. How else did you become so strong?" Rufina went to hug Mitrofan, but given his huge size and her short arms, she didn't get far on that front. The Aggron saw this, and hugged her in return.

"I love you so much, Mitt. I'm so glad I met you, all those years back."

"I'm as glad as you. Thank you for being the best wife and partner in the whole world."

"D'aww, Mitt!" Rufina looked up into her husband's eyes lovingly. He returned the gesture with a loving smile.

"I don't think I could be happier than when I'm with you," Mitrofan said.

"Same, Mitt. I love you."

"And I you, Rufina. May our bond remain strong, no matter what happens to us."

Notes

Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you enjoyed this lovey-dovey paralogue.