Nehalennia has been yawning for the past half an hour, the time between yawns lessening with every one, and so Fenrir has decided to take The Shoebill back to dock.

She tries playing with Rock to keep herself awake.

From what Fenrir has learned during the past two months in-game, the only time that tiredness really begins showing up in characters is when they are about to fall asleep in reality. Many people who don’t play the game assume that lying in bed for hours at a time immersed in virtual reality would be relaxing and not tiring. The truth is the opposite. Since virtual reality in its current, popular state essentially uses the human brain as half of its processing power, players grow just as tired as they would be if they were up and moving around for that entire time instead.

Thus, to see somebody in-game yawning and falling asleep, it is usually safe to assume that they have been playing for a very long duration without break.

“When’s the last time you woke?” Fenrir asks Nehalennia.

“A-ah, as embarrassing as it is to admit, I believe I have been here for the past fourteen real hours,” Nehalennia replies.

Fenrir’s eyes widen at her response. She no-lifes this game even harder than he does if that’s a regular session for her. “So you’ve basically been in-game and awake for a day and a half now?” he asks her.

She nods. “It is easy to stay awake for so long in-game when time moves slower. Or is it faster? If twice as much time passes here than the real world, then… does time move faster because twice as much is happening, or slower?”

“Huh, I’ve never really thought of that before. Uhh, if you get close to a black hole, time starts moving slower relative to the rest of the universe. Like, a few minutes there could be hours or years elsewhere. So time would be going slower… but only relative to people outside of it. I guess if you were the one near the black hole, and then you left it, one could say that time was moving faster there because – no, that doesn’t make any sense.” Fenrir sighs. “As you may or may not be able to tell, I’m not exactly an astrophysicist.”

Nehalennia giggles and nods. “Fair enough, fair enough. Rather than say time moves faster or slower, let us just agree that it moves differently, yes?” she proposes.

“Sounds good to me. Anyways, if you’ve been up for fourteen hours in real life, that means you’ve been here for twenty-eight. You need to go get some sleep.”

“I will when we make it to the dock, my hero. Where should I sleep?”

“You can use my hammock until we figure something better out.”

“But then where will you sleep?”

“I’ll probably just chill with Rock on the deck or something.”

“Are you sure that such an arrangement is acceptable? I feel bad knowing that while I lay in what is meant to be your hammock, you would have only the wooden deck of the ship!”

He can tell that she’s engaging her inner drama lover when she starts waving her hands around and using a more dramatic tone.

The others are all asleep already, so he is safe to play along for a bit. “A princess such as yourself deserves nothing but the finest, most rope-y of hammocks to rest upon. Please, it would be my pleasure for you to call my hammock your bed while I reside with my loyal companion,” Fenrir says. Rock ruffs and wags her tail.

Nehalennia turns away. “If you tell me that this is the only way, then I shall take your word for it! Oh, this is such a hard life for a princess. To have been stolen away from my castle and now forced to sleep in the hull of a ship upon a hammock – oh, the luxuries I once had – they are now all gone. I am left with naught but my gown and my body, but you may even take the latter as I sleep! To be kidnapped and then defiled by a foul pirate in my sleep…”

Fenrir’s ears twitch. Who’s being called a foul pirate? “I thought that I was supposed to play the part of a knight saving a princess, but now you’re a kidnapped princess being taken away and ‘defiled’ by a foul pirate?” he asks.

“A foul pirate! A dastardly wolf! For a wolf to lust after a fair princess’ body, such a thing is not right! Have you no shame?!” she swings her arms out as she shames him, spinning around and accusatorily pointing at him.

If she wants a foul pirate and dastardly wolf, that is what she is going to get.

Fenrir steps away from the ship’s wheel, stomps up to her, and—gently—grabs her by her shoulders to pin her against the mast! One hand reaches up to grab the tip of her chin, tilting her head back and up so that he can look directly down into her eyes while his other hand stays on her shoulder. “If you want me to play the role of the villain, that’s something I’m pretty good at. Tell me, you worthless princess, shall I tie you up and ruin you myself or let the rest of my crew handle that for me?”

His words cause an intense blush to spread across her cheeks, but it does not last for long as they both burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t keep that up,” Fenrir says, letting go of her and walking back over to the ship’s wheel.

“I did not expect you to actually play along! Goodness, that was surprising. I did not mind it, but I certainly did not expect it!” Nehalennia says. “If Ull was more like that then I likely would not detest him as much as I do, but alas, he is much more boring.”

Hearing her say that actually makes Fenrir feel a bit jealous. “So you would prefer your captor to act like a generic, cheesy villain?” he asks.

“It would make things more interesting at the very least! Acting cheesy and dramatic is more entertaining than being simple and boring, is it not?” she answers.

“Yeah, I can’t really argue with that logic. You know, I actually went through a phase when I was younger where I’d act like that all the time. Funnily enough, that was probably when I was the most popular with girls. They ate it up.”

“I cannot blame them. Those like me gravitate to such personalities. The issue is that most men with such demeanors do not know how nor when to turn them off, instead fully living the part.”

“So what you’re saying is that it’s better to just pretend to be some dominant, smooth villain than to actually be one? Makes sense.”

“That is right, my hero. As much as I love that sort of play, to truly be that way is just unhealthy.”

“You totally get along with that dragon girl who likes being chained up, don’t you?”

Nehalennia blushes and turns away. “W-we may or may not be friends.”

“Hey, how many of those girls do you think actually want freedom?” Fenrir asks, his tone more serious now as The Shoebill drifts into its usual spot at the docks.

“Including myself… I would say only nine truly wish for freedom from Ull. Many of them have come to not only accept, but enjoy, their statuses as his things. His girlfriend – the dragon, acts as a sort of mother to the rest of us. Some of the girls have fallen in love with him, others have fallen in love with her. Most of them, however, are non-player characters at this point. They gained their own personalities – their own artificial intelligences controlling them rather than the overseer doing so, and fell for him. The few who still detest him and wish to leave are all non-player characters as well. I am the only remaining player who wishes to leave. The others all started over with new characters,” Nehalennia explains.

“So, one down and eight to go who are all NPCs,” Fenrir confirms.

Nehalennia nods while yawning.

“Alright, you need to get to bed. Come on,” Fenrir says as he finishes tying the ship to the dock.

“Carry me,” Nehalennia says.

“What?”

“I said to carry me. You are my hero, and I am your princess, no?”

“I – uh, alright.” Fenrir walks up to her and places his hands under her armpits.

She swats his hands away. “Not like that! You must carry me like a proper princess,” she teases.

With a blush on his cheeks, Fenrir crouches down, places one hand underneath her knees and another supporting her back, and lifts her up so that he is carrying her in proper princess fashion.

Nehalennia smiles and points to the stairs that lead below deck. “Carry me away, my hero!” she orders before giggling.

“As you wish.”

Below deck, Fenrir gently sets her down in the hammock usually reserved for himself.

“Thank you, my hero. Now, I get a goodnight kiss as well, yes?” Nehalennia asks.

She doesn’t get the reaction that she was hoping for.

Fenrir points over at Cassiel and Serra, both oddly sleeping in their own hammocks. “You’ll have to run that by them first.”

Nehalennia pouts for a moment, but then smiles and sighs. “I figured as much. You may play along with me and my silly fantasies, but you are still a loyal wolf at your core.”

“I try to be. I don’t think I need to say this, but as teasing and playing along as I was, it’s just that. I’m not just trying to save you to get into your pants or anything either like some fedora-wearing white knight, either,” Fenrir explains.

“I know, my hero, and that is why I just may truly fall for you yet.”

“Yeah – wait, what?” Fenrir asks, but her eyes close as she falls into slumber.

Rock lets out a muffled ruff from the top of the stairs with a blanket that she has stolen from Bonekraka’s hammock in her mouth.

“At least you don’t tease me, Rock.”