Page 24 of I Married A Lizardman

Once again, it was a fair point. And yet, my gut told me that I was being conned. Nevertheless, I found myself forced to accede to her request for lack of strong counterargument.

“Very well, my mate,” I said, making no effort to hide my reluctance. “You may use both buildings and the parcel of land you requested. “BUT you will be discreet about your activities and not try to lure others into working the land. If you need help bringing things here, or having specific tools crafted, you may ask for assistance, but do not be surprised if few consent. It is nothing personal. However, you are opening a very sensitive wound for my people. I hope you understand that.”

Susan appeared troubled by that comment. While it saddened me to dampen her enthusiasm, I appreciated that she seemed to grasp the seriousness of the matter.

“I promise, I will not flaunt it,” she said, sounding chastened. “I swear that I am not trying to cause trouble for you, and I do not wish to disrespect your people in any way.”

Somewhat mollified, I grumbled a response then herded my mate back to the plaza. But even as we were approaching it, the silhouette of a transport shuttle in the distance announced the arrival of Susan’s personal belongings. As worried as her farming plans made me, her squeal of delight and the joy on her alien face made it impossible not to smile as well. Her happiness pleased me.

Luped joined forces with me to unload an impressive number of crates and containers onto a hover platform while my mate raced back to the shed to start cleaning it. By the time we were done moving all of her belongings into the two buildings, the sun was already setting on the horizon. Despite her eagerness to start sorting out and organizing her belongings, Susan willingly came back to the Great Hall with us for the evening meal and community gathering.

There would be time enough for her projects on the morrow.

Chapter 9

Susan

Last night, although no one gave me the stink eye, my new people didn’t show me as much warmth as during the wedding celebration or the morning after. News traveled quickly in a small village. Yamir hadn’t shared the subject of our conversation that had stirred her anger—which still lingered—but unloading my farming equipment had given me away.

My poor Olix had been in damage-control mode all evening. I never would have guessed how deep the wounds of the past still ran, even though only two of those who had actually suffered under slavery still lived today.

Try hard as I may, and despite the genuine empathy I felt for their ancestors, I couldn’t understand their current reaction, let alone agree with it. How could I? I wasn’t in their shoes. I hadn’t lived through the fallout of rebuilding their society and sense of self after routing the invaders. Still, as much as I believed they were taking the wrong approach with this specific issue, I had to respect their feelings and not try to force my will or views onto them.

I no longer thought it possible to achieve Kayog’s dream of turning the Andturian into farmers like my people on Meterion. There was still a sliver of hope they would change their minds, maybe once they saw the success of my own crops, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.

Nonetheless, after Olix explained to them how refusing me would equate to someone depriving them of ever eating jovam roots again, the people suddenly showed a bit more empathy towards me. Yamir remained a little stiff, but in the absence of me trying to promote farming, she slightly relaxed. The rest of the evening went on smoothly, concluded by a very hot night with my husband.

Olix was a quick study who seemed to genuinely enjoy foreplay, however clumsy he had been at first—not that I was much more skilled to begin with. Last night, he insisted we shower together. My initial shyness was short-lived. My man’s hands were all over me in no time, and I loved how he touched me. I never expected to get so turned on by someone who looked so different, and even less that he would grow this attracted to me. And yet, since our first night, I’d caught Olix stealing heated glances at me throughout the day. During that shower, his desire for me had been undeniable.

In truth, I suspected he’d barely resisted the urge to prop me up against the stone wall and bang me right there and then. I’d wanted him to, but after we dried up and took things to bed—or our sleeping nest as he called it—I was beyond grateful for his restraint. It would take a few more nights of slow and careful penetration for me to adjust to his girth without feeling on the verge of getting split in half. Still, sex last night had been even better than the first night—after the initial awkwardness—and was promising to become epic in the future. I just had to work up the courage of bringing up oral sex…

But for now, kinky thoughts needed to take a backseat. I’d once again slept in this morning, although not as late as yesterday. Olix had already been up and about for a while by the time I emerged from the house. After greeting the people all busy crafting on the plaza—including my mother-in-law who seemed a bit warmer today—I made a beeline for my shed to unpack my treasures. I had to make haste as I wouldn’t be able to work tomorrow.

I’d found out that, although they followed a 7-day week and 12-month calendar, the Andturians didn’t have a traditional 5-day work week. Adults worked and children studied for two days in a row, rested one day, and worked two more days, rinse-repeat. Saturdays and Sundays held no special meaning to them. Every day was either a work day or a play day, with the rare holiday marking special moments of their history—like their liberation from the Vaengi, Summer Solstice, or the Day of the Spirits.

After my conversation with Olix, I had spent the evening pondering how I would go about things. Unpacking helped me clarify in what order I would proceed. Kayog had mentioned including a gift for me in my belongings. I had not expected the two large bags of germinating mix that I found there. I squealed in delight as I had expected to have to beg for manure and make the kind of rough mix that would never compare to a proper compost mix that would take months to create.

I had wanted to bring some from my homeworld, but it never would have passed customs. Even the seeds that I had brought almost didn’t make it. Thankfully, I managed to sweet talk my husband and his sister into bringing in a few tables from the common storage. I would need more stuff, but would try to carefully work my way into getting the assistance I needed without being too pushy.

For now, I wanted to get my seeds started. In a week from now, Olix and most of the Hunters would set off on a hunting expedition that would last at least a couple of weeks. As much as it saddened me, I hoped that by the time he returned, I’d be able to make him sample a few things that might stir his interest into seeing more of what allowing me to work the land could provide.

I picked up my propagator racks from one of the containers. Each rack contained thirty cells that I filled with germinating mix before planting one seed per cell. After covering the seeds with more mix, I lightly watered them then placed a greenhouse cover on top of the rack to keep in the moisture. I repeated the process with a variety of vegetables, from tomatoes to broccoli, cauliflower and kale, cabbage, and squash, and obviously potatoes. I hated that I couldn’t start from an actual piece of potato as my original seed, but that would have never passed customs.

I was almost done with my tenth rack when a knock on the door startled me. To my pleasant surprise, Luped was paying me a visit—although I suspected it also involved some snooping.

“Already hard at work, I see,” my sister-in-law said, her lizard eyes flicking this way and that.

“No choice if I want to eat some potatoes soon. It will take at least two months from today for them to grow, but three months is more likely,” I said with a pitiful face.

She gave me a commiserating look. “At least, you have hope it will come,” she said.

“Indeed. I’m pretty excited about it,” I replied.

“I see that you’ve already used up two of the tables we brought,” Luped noted.

“Yeah,” I said scrunching my face. “Getting the seedlings started quickly is my number one priority. After that, I will go looking in the common storage for something that could act as shelves for my racks so that I can keep the tables closer to the windows for the sprouts that will need a lot of sun. Then, I will need to get hay, straw, or woodchips and find a way to get some really strong hooks on the ceiling of the backroom to grow mushrooms.”

“Hooks to grow mushrooms?” Luped asked, surprised.

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