Ilrica’s Aatuu

"Wait, THIS is what you meant by the best part?" Gerald yelled as Ilrica dragged him into the lobby of a seedy love-motel.

"Aw, you're being all shy, that's so cute."

The hotel clerk had trouble hiding her disdain as she watched Ilrica approach.

"Hello, I'd like a room, please," Ilrica said, tossing Gerald down beneath the counter like he was some piece of luggage, then placed her shoe on top of him to keep him from squirming away.

"I'm sorry, I don't have any rooms available," the clerk explained, without looking up. "The hotel is currently full for the festival."

Ilrica raised an eyebrow. "But I made a reservation. It's under Ilrica Faolan."

"You were planning this?" Gerald grunted. She silenced him with a gentle kick to the ribs.

The receptionist clicked her mandibles together and clacked away at her controls. While she did, another couple staggered in, stinking of wine and spice.

"I'm sorry, but I don't see any reservation under that name," the clerk explained.

Ilrica leaned on her elbow. "I confirmed it like five times."

"Well, is it possible you made the reservation under another name?"

Ilrica blinked. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, it's just something I'm supposed to ask."

"Is that something you normally allow? People to make reservations under a false name."

Her antennae twitched. "No, I suppose we don't."

"So, why did you ask? Are you trying to get me to admit to illegal activity?" Ilrica looked around ominously. "Is this like a police sting or something?"

"No, of course not."

Ilrica leaned over the counter to get a better look. "What have you got back there behind those doors? Are there cops back there waiting to come out?"

The mention of police made the drunken couple nervous. They whispered to each other uneasily and began gathering up their things.

The clerk noticed their agitation and tried to calm them. "No, ma'am. Please, we do everything to protect the privacy of our customers. Um, sir, ma'am, please don't leave! I'll finish up with these two then get to you."

Gerald managed to twist onto his side beneath her shoe. "What are you doing?"

Ilrica winked at him. "Just watch."

The hotel clerk clicked again. "Look, you know what? I have a room I can give you. It's the vlonohai suite."

Ilrica feigned astonishment. "But you said you didn't have any rooms." She thumbed at the drunken couple. "Are you giving me their room?"

The man huffed and picked up his suitcase.

The clerk nearly jumped. "What? No, of course not. Ma'am please, you are causing a ruckus."

The clerk stretched to look over Ilrica's shoulder as the drunken couple turned to leave.

Ilrica's eyes twinkled. "Before you told me no rooms were available, so it would seem you are only giving it to me now because I am causing a scene."

The clerk yanked on her antennae. "Look, ma'am, if you push any harder I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Ah, so you keep a room in reserve for people who push hard but not too hard. That is quite a strange company policy you have there."

The clerk snarled.

"I'll take it," Ilrica said, swiping her card through the reader before the woman could delete it from the queue.

Ilrica proudly plucked Gerald up and tossed him over one shoulder while the clerk rushed out to stop the couple from leaving.

"Boy, you're just a big troll, aren't you?" Gerald commented as she carried him down the hallway. "Why did you give her such a hard time?"

"Because she lied to me." Ilrica tapped her snout. "I can smell a lie a mile away. She just didn't want to give a room to someone with Bertulf blood."

"Regardless, we really shouldn't be here," Gerald said, looking around.

Ilrica kicked open the door and tossed Gerald onto the bed.

"We shouldn't be here? Why not?" She picked up a wine glass off the table and threw the contents down her throat. The sensor on the wall gave off a pleasant little chime, indicating that her card had been charged. "What's wrong with being here?"

"This is a love hotel," he said discreetly.

Ilrica laughed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Ahh, so the innocent little monk knows what a love motel is."

"Look, just because I'm a monk doesn't mean I'm ignorant."

Ilrica leaned in close and studied him. "You've been to one of these before, haven't you?

Gerald looked away.

Her eyes went wide. "Oh my gosh, you have, haven't you?"

"It wasn't like that, I..."

Ilrica threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, this is too much." She reached over and slugged him in the shoulder. "Well, good for you! And here I thought you were a grass-eater, turns out you are a meat roll."

"What's a meat roll?"

"A male who appears to be an herbivore on the outside, but is actually a carnivore on the inside."

She flicked the side of the glass and it refilled itself from below. "Oh, you are good. There aren't many people who can lie to me without leaving a scent."

She threw down the glass anew, and another chime rang out.

"Look, I'm not really..."

"So, who did you go to the hotel with?" she asked, cutting him off. "Not Ssykes right?"

"Of course not, and I didn't..."

"Was it the Trahzi?"

"No, look, I was just..."

"Immestria?"

"Look, I'm trying to tell you that..."

Ilrica's eyes went wide. "Holy grogs, it was Immestria!" She fell back on the bed, kicking her feet and laughing. "Oh man, you took your childhood friend to a love hotel! That is too funny!"

Gerald just sat there, arms folded indignantly. "You know what? I'm not even going to try and explain it; you'll just cut me off again anyw..."

"Ahhh! ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaa!" Ilrica laughed, holding her sides. "I can't stop imagining you two making out."

"It's not like it's that funny."

Ilrica gasped for breath, tears forming in her eyes. "Oh man, did you like.... hehehe... did you like have like a pink stain on your face afterwards, like a little kid after eating too much candy?"

"She's not actually made of cotton candy, you know."

"Ahhhhhh ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaa!"

When the door chimed, it was barely possible to hear it over her laughing.

"Oh, our guest is here," she said, leaping over to the door.

"Guest?"

"Yes, I brought you here to meet someone. Why? What did you think we were going to do?"

Gerald looked away and blushed. "Nothing."

Her eyes narrowed knowingly. "Uh huh. You are a meat-eater after all, arentcha?"

The door slid open and a Bertulf walked in. He was nearly twice as tall as Ilrica, so much so that he had to stoop down and twist himself just to fit through the doorway. His features were sharper than hers too, more feral, his snout longer, his fangs more pronounced. While she stood straight, he was hunched over, with wide shoulders and long strong fingers that ended in razor- sharp talons. While she had relatively short fur, his was long and thick. In many places it was gathered together and braided with bits of bone. He wore only a simple loincloth, and a bandolier made of hides. Blades made from carved bones were sheathed in its length.

Ilrica took a knee in his presence, surprisingly submissive for her. "This is Liufr Ivaylo, he is Aatuu of the Ulric Clan," she explained.

Gerald's translator had trouble with the word 'Aatuu,' the closest it could come up with was 'alpha father.'

Liufr looked over Gerald, clearly displeased. He stood there as if waiting for something. Not knowing what else to do, Gerald took a knee like she did.

"I see you have brought me a live offering," Liufr said, a drop of thick saliva dripping free.

"Oh, no, this is Gerald Dyson, a classmate of mine. He is not for eating."

The enormous Bertulf sniffed him. "Not yet, anyway."

Gerald was nearly petrified. The Bertulf's body radiated power and violence. Just his mere presence was overwhelming.

"You may rise," Liufr said, as he walked past them.

"This is your father?" Gerald leaned over and whispered. "He looks nothing like you."

"That's because he's an alpha male, you dummy." She looked over her shoulder at Liufr, eyes sparkling. "And an extremely sexy one at that."

Gerald stuck his tongue out. "That's kind of a strange way to talk about your father, isn't it?"

Liufr growled and turned around. "That is something of a mistranslation. As the Alpha of the Ulric Clan, I would be considered father, brother, and husband to all the Ulrician females. The familial distinctions you prey use don't apply to hunting packs." There was something feral in his demeanor, as if everything before him was permitted to live only because he was currently too bored to bother killing it. Just looking at his cold gray eyes gave Gerald the willies.

Ilrica slugged Gerald in the shoulder. "Lucky bunch a girls, wouldn't you say?" She walked over next to Liufr, as if showing him off. "I've seen this guy take down a Ruavu Mammoth all by himself."

"Yes, very lucky."

Forgetting herself, she playfully whipped the tip of her tail against Liufr.

"Do not touch me, ilrica faolan," he snapped.

Ilrica stepped back and tucked her arms and tail away. "Sorry."

Gerald's translator gave off a little chirp. Normally proper names were simply transferred over phonetically to English, but when Liufr had said her name, Gerald's translator had treated it as a title with no English analogue. He wondered if this one was breaking down like the others.

Liufr took her purse and turned it over, emptying the contents out onto the desk. Sifting through them distastefully, he picked up a green tablet that had fallen out.

"I brought him here to show him my school records," Ilrica explained. "I think you'll be very pleased with my performance on the hand-to hand combat trials."

Liufr sniffed at the tablet and tucked it away into his bandolier disinterestedly. "I shall be leaving now." He turned around and headed for the door.

"You are welcome to stay for a while," Gerald said. "Ilrica has been away from her clan for a long time. I'm sure she would enjoy the company."

Liufr stooped through the door and looked back. "It is not part of my clan," he clarified, then he disappeared.

Ilrica breathed in relief and slumped down into the chair. "I think I'm gonna need another drink."

"What did he mean, you are not part of his clan?"

Ilrica snatched up the wine glass and tapped it to fill anew. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." She threw down the wine and then filled the glass again.

Gerald watched the door slide close. "I apologize if I did anything wrong. That didn't really seem to go well."

Ilrica threw the wine down her throat and breathed deeply. "No, that went about as well as it could have gone."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because we're both still alive."