"For the last time, Nah'yair," insisted Vespera, after what felt like hours of endless debate, to her distraught spokeswoman. Once again, they were meeting in the former's office, and once again, the owl woman's attention was mostly directed towards the pile of unsigned papers on her desk rather than her interlocutor.
Nah'yair had grown accustomed to the sight over the last couple of days, especially due to all the permit-granting, order-issuing and other such political paperwork needed to keep both an intergalactic race and a whole nation floating and conflicts-free at roughly the same time, at all times, but the dragoness felt as though it still made no sense whatsoever that the Governess would take the time to have her do something as mundane as interfere with the mail.
"I didn't have a reason for the letters to remain in Aleria other than to buy myself some thinking time," the Governess continued, still digging through the endless pile of papers sitting before her, "and so far, the only thing I can think of doing about our little situation with miss Darkfire's wife is to just let her be," she added before making a pause to quickly place yet another signature, finishing the last paper in a stack, then moving to the next one.
"After all, it seems like all she wanted was to meet with her spouse, and since miss Darkfire still has those letters, I think it all works out nicely for the both of them in the end, don't you think?" Vespera asked then, and Nah'yair lowered her gaze in response. "As for us," the Governess continued, "this saves us the trouble of having to figure other alternatives out. Miss Blue gets her prize, miss Darkfire gets a surprise, and we get some peace and quiet instead of having to keep a three-ton dragon from wrecking the place, do you understand?" she asked, leaving a silence after the question for Nah'yair to respond.
However, the spokeswoman didn't say a word, so Vespera let out a soft snort in response. "Listen, Nah'yair," she started, on a more annoyed tone this time, "I know you care about our competitors and have moral grounds to stand on, but it will be better for you if you stop . . ." continued, but soon she picked up on something about the dragoness that she hadn't noticed until that point. It simply made no sense that her spokeswoman was so fixated on petty details regarding the demoness, so she lowered her pen and lifted her single, blind eye's gaze from the papers before her, and fixed it on the dragoness instead.
"Nah'yair," the Governess started, and her lithe interlocutor straightened up on the spot. However, there was no spoken response so Vespera simply continued: "What is it that troubles you about miss Darkfire? Could it be your first encounter with her, is that it?"
The dragoness didn't speak a word in response at first, and only sighed once the silence had grown too long to bear. Still, after a minute or two had passed, there was no response from her, and she was about to speak her mind, when she was interrupted by her employer's voice.
"I see," Vespera said, before lowering her gaze to the pile of papers. "Take the wife to the checkpoint as we agreed then. She'll run interference on her spouse's snooping, even if neither of them knows about it. But I'll warn you, Nah'yair; sooner or later you'll have to confront her in regard to this situation, and when you do, it would be wise to just give her what she wants. Help her help us so to speak, and then you'll see what I mean. Be patient, Nah'yair, and trust me. She will rise to the task, if you give her the chance," she finished, and with that, waved the spokeswoman to leave.
However, Nah'yair still hadn't let go of her worries, which is why she didn't notice a certain green-haired bat walking right past her and into the office she'd just left, carrying a folder full of papers as he did.
Hours later, an excited Blue had returned to her normal, canine shape, and traversed the building her wife was supposed to be in, tail wagging behind her and wings flapping in anticipation as she read the names labeled on the doors she passed by. It wouldn't have been surprising to see her skip all the way to Chi's room, but the excited pup role was already filled by a now-four-legged Blitz, who was all too happy to trot around and sniff the area in front of her owner's spouse.
When they found the room though, and opened the door, both of them quieted down for the sake of both her and her companion: according to the door's label, the demoness shared her room with Hawthorn, the small ferret whom she'd had an altercation over lunch a couple of days earlier with. However, as soon as their eyes got accustomed to the darkness and Blue recognized that long, bushy tail, all sense of caution was tossed aside as she hopped into her wife's bed, letting out a joyous squeal as she did.
Her wife's response however, couldn't have been further from her expectations--or more baffling, for that matter: the demoness let out a rather loud, pain-filled and ear-shattering yelp at first, which slowly gave way to much quieter crying, then sobbing, as her body surrendered to a particularly familiar type of convulsion.
Shocked and bewildered, Blue could do little more than stare at first, but as soon as the original surprise had subsided and she recovered a clear head, she reached over to wrap her arms around the tormented demoness' body in an attempt to calm her down, whispering pretty things into her ear as she did, and finally sighing in relief when the latter's body relaxed. However, she herself couldn't relax, especially since Chi's expression continued to show pain, and instead turned over to look at a similarly distraught Blitz. Neither of them noticed the fact that despite the noise, Hawthorn remained asleep as a baby.
“See? I knew she shouldn’t have come here,” Blue said, before turning back to her wife. "I just hope she hasn't . . ." she started, but interrupted herself once she caught glimpse of a couple of paper sheets just poking out from under the older shifter's pillow. Driven by concern and curiosity in equal measure, she took a quick look at her wife to make sure that she wouldn't wake up, then back at Blitz to gesture her to stay quiet, before slowly (and silently) reaching under her wife's head for them.
It didn't take her a lot of effort though (or time for that matter), and once she'd succeeded, she carefully moved off the bed, giving one last glimpse to her wife before turning towards the door in search of a place with more light to read the letters she'd just dug out--the same ones her wife had just finished spending hours on trying to send out.