Chapter 4: The Dragon and the Witch
Solus decided it was time to truly celebrate that fact. He clapped his hands and declared, "I propose a toast!"
Glasses – whether of wine, juice, mead, or milk – were lifted around the room as Solus raised his own crystal goblet. "To all of you, who answered the call across worlds. May this night be only the beginning of bonds unimagined!"
"Cheers!" Milim piped up, thrusting her mug high (some of its contents sloshing onto Shion's head, who sputtered in protest and then laughed). The cry was taken up by others: Freya with her sultry grace, Artemis with a reserved smile, Yoruichi with a playful wink at Solus as she drank, Unohana with closed eyes and a peaceful nod, Scáthach holding her wine aloft in salute with a bloodthirsty grin hinting at her eagerness for what's to come. Even Morgan clinked her fae goblet grudgingly with Misery's offered glass, while Jeanne Alter rolled her eyes but still took a hearty draught from her tankard. Harribel inclined her head and sipped quietly, and Velzard let a tiny, almost imperceptible smile touch her lips as she savored a rare draught of ambrosial nectar (a treat she'd normally only share with Guy and her kin).
The first sip had barely passed everyone's lips when Solus added with a mischievous smirk, "And perhaps a bit of sport to liven things up!"
Those words caught the competitive souls in the room by fire. "Oh? What did you have in mind?" Yoruichi purred, stretching her lithe arms as if readying for a challenge.
Solus set down his goblet and swept his gaze slowly around the ring of formidable women. "A simple contest," he said lightly. "Touch me – even once – and you win. I'll grant you any boon in my power." His grin widened, wolfish and inviting. "If you fail, you owe me nothing but a bit of entertainment."
A shocked hush fell, followed by a thrum of excitement. Several jaws dropped (Ais wasn't sure she heard right, while Artemis immediately shook her head in disapproval, sensing recklessness). But others… others felt their blood race at such a bold dare.
Scáthach straightened, a fierce joy lighting in her crimson eyes. This was the challenge she had secretly craved. Morgan's lips parted in surprise; then an ambitious smile curved them – her pride as a sorceress would not let this chance slip. Jeanne Alter slammed her empty tankard down, fire literally sparking in her hair. "You're on, arrogant man!" she declared, cracking her knuckles. Yin Feixuan emerged from her sulk in the corner, an eager malicious glint returning to her eyes at the thought of getting authorized revenge on the one who humbled her. Even Shion bounced on the balls of her feet, pumped up by drink and camaraderie, roaring "Alright, a brawl! Now this is a party!"
Freya chuckled into her hand, exchanging a look with Kiara. "He really does know how to charm, doesn't he?" the goddess mused. Kiara responded with a half-lidded smile, "Offering himself as the prize… oh yes. I'm positively inspired." Though neither intended to join the melee physically, both watched with keen interest – this was another facet of Solus's magnetism on full display.
Artemis opened her mouth to caution against needless conflict, but was gently pulled back by Unohana, of all people. The healer shook her head, murmuring, "Let them play, Lady Artemis. Sometimes warriors communicate best in the language of battle." There was a knowing glint in Unohana's eyes that brooked no argument. Reluctantly, Artemis acquiesced, though she kept an arrow notched loosely – just in case things got out of hand.
Solus stood at ease in the center of the tavern, rolling his shoulders as if loosening up. "Come then," he beckoned, winking, "Impress me."
A split-second later, the hall erupted into motion.
Scáthach was first – she propelled herself with a runic flash, spear thrust aiming straight for Solus's heart with god-slaying force. In perfect sync, Morgan snarled an incantation and hurled a spiral of lightning-charged ice shards from the flank, while Jeanne Alter roared and unleashed a cone of blistering dragon flame from the opposite side. Long Ji, not to be outdone, had transformed instantaneously – draconic horns crowning her head, claws unsheathed – and lunged with a high-pitched battle cry, a streak of golden scales and killing intent.
What followed was a whirlwind too fast for mortal eyes – and even many immortal ones – to track fully. But to each participant, it played out as a series of humbling astonishments.
Scáthach's spear lunged true – yet met not flesh, but empty air. Solus had sidestepped with casual grace, two fingers brushing the crimson spear's shaft and redirecting its path just enough that Scáthach sailed past him. In that brief contact, Scáthach felt a jolt of thrill up her arm; she landed and spun, breathless, thinking, He read my strike like an open book! Her heart pounded with exhilaration.
Morgan's conjured ice bolts splintered through where Solus's torso had been a millisecond prior. With a flick of his wrist, Solus summoned a small vortex that caught each wicked shard and ground them to harmless snow. Morgan watched, jaw tightening. That spell was potent enough to shatter castles, now reduced to a swirl of pretty snowflakes drifting down around Solus as he moved. He even had the audacity to smile charmingly at her through the flurry, as if thanking her for the lovely weather. Morgan's cheeks burned – with frustration, yes, but a grudging excitement too.
Jeanne Alter's inferno blast roared forth, threatening to consume Solus and everything else directly ahead. The Dragon Witch grinned viciously, confident nothing could withstand her cursed flames. But then Solus did something she didn't expect – he opened his arms and took the fire head-on. The flames engulfed him completely, a raging pillar of red-black fire. Ais yelped, thinking him mad; others stared in shock. Jeanne Alter's grin faltered when within that blazing column, two piercing golden eyes opened, unaffected. With a sharp inhale, Solus literally drank in her flames – the fire swirling and funneling into his mouth as if he were devouring it. When he exhaled, only a thin wisp of smoke escaped his lips. "Spicy," he remarked playfully. Jeanne Alter felt her knees tremble. It wasn't fear – not exactly – it was something far more disconcerting: admiration. No, she told herself, I'm just drunk. Yet her racing heart told another story.
Long Ji came closest of all. Using the distraction of flames and frost, the dragon princess darted in low, aiming a claw strike at Solus's calf to topple him. Her golden eyes blazed with determination, dragonforce roaring in her veins. At last, she would prove herself against an ultimate foe. But as her claw swept, she found Solus's hand already there, catching her wrist with gentle firmness. The momentum of her charge dissipated harmlessly. Long Ji gasped – no one had ever physically overpowered her full-dragon strength with one hand. Solus, still holding her wrist, twirled her as if initiating a dance. With a yelp, Long Ji spun away and landed in Misery's arms, who had been watching wide-eyed. The dragon princess's face flushed pure red – half fury, half something akin to embarrassment (he had handled her like a doll!). She scrambled upright, only to see Solus give her a little two-finger salute. That casual respect stung and thrilled in equal measure.
From the sidelines, Yin Feixuan saw her chance. While Solus dealt with the others, she loosed a tendril of darkness from behind, aiming to ensnare his ankle and yank him off-balance. The shadow whip coiled around its target – but Solus casually stomped down, pinning the shadow as if it were material. Yin gasped as her darkness tether was caught. Then, without looking back, Solus flicked his heel, and the captured shadow whip – still connected to Yin's palm – yanked her forward off her feet. The demoness found herself launched straight into the arms of an astonished Shion, who caught the smaller woman instinctively. Both tumbled in a heap. Shion rubbed her head, laughing, "We've got to stop meeting like this!" Yin, utterly humiliated again, could only groan.
Even those who hung back were left in awe. Velzard observed with arms crossed, a cool smile on her lips as her earlier skepticism melted away. This Solus played with these challengers as a parent might roughhouse beloved children – indulging them, teaching them their limits. She nodded to herself; rare was a being who could command her respect without a show of brute dominance. This elegant superiority sufficed.
Freya's eyes shone like twin stars witnessing her chosen hero triumph. She pressed a hand to her chest, steadying the wild thrum of her heart. If she had felt love for Bell, what she felt stirring now for Solus was something far more profound and consuming – like a worshipper before the altar of a living god.
Artemis exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she held. Relief, admiration – and yes, a confusion of attraction – warred within her. So effortlessly he handled even the fiercest aggressors. This was a protector, a warrior, and a rogue all in one. She silently thanked the Fates for bringing her here.
Scattered across the tavern floor, the would-be assailants found themselves disarmed in more ways than one. Laughter, cheers, and a few groans filled the aftermath. Solus still stood at center, utterly untouched – not a hair out of place, looking around with delight.
He clapped his hands again, gentler now. "Bravo! What a show, truly." He bowed slightly to those who had charged. "You all have such splendid spirit."
Jeanne Alter, panting a bit, wiped soot from her face and managed a half-crazed chuckle. "You… you're insane," she said, but there was no malice in it now – only a begrudging respect and a spark in her eyes that hadn't been there before. The spark of someone who'd found something worth obsessing over more than her hatred.
Morgan twirled her staff and dismissed it in a shower of sparkles, stepping forward. "Hardly necessary, of course," she sniffed as if she hadn't been part of the fray. Yet her gaze on Solus had completely changed – behind her feigned nonchalance, awe and excitement swirled. In her long, lonely reign, she had yearned for an equal or a superior to shoulder burdens with. Perhaps… just perhaps, she mused.
Scáthach laughed openly, a rare, clear laugh like a hunting horn sounding victory. "Marvelous!" she declared. "Not since Cu Chulainn's battles have I seen such prowess, and even those pale." She approached Solus and unexpectedly knelt on one knee, bowing her head in a gesture of knightly offering. "You have fulfilled my dearest wish tonight – to meet one who might finally surpass me. For that, you have my spear, if you ever have need of it."
Solus's eyes softened slightly at the earnest pledge. He reached out and lifted Scáthach's chin gently, bidding her rise. "Your loyalty does me great honor, Lady Scáthach," he said warmly. "I hope only to prove worthy of it." The Land of Shadows queen rose, cheeks tinged faintly pink at his touch, and stepped back, settling beside Unohana who smiled at her friend's uncharacteristic flush.
One by one, the others who had joined the brawl expressed their newfound admiration in their own ways. Long Ji folded her arms and gave a begrudging nod. "I will remember this," she muttered, which from a prideful dragon princess was as good as swearing fealty. Yin Feixuan, rubbing a bruise on her shoulder, refused eye contact but her silence (as opposed to spiteful retort) itself indicated acceptance of dominance. Morgan merely stared at Solus with an enigmatic smile, already plotting how this connection could elevate her aims. Jeanne Alter – perhaps the most changed – looked torn, tugged by an emotion she hardly recognized as awe. She stomped over to Solus and, to everyone's surprise, thrust out her hand.
"No man has ever… earned my respect," she said haltingly, eyes averted and cheeks crimson. "So count yourself the first. But don't get cocky! I-I'm not suddenly your friend or anything." Solus took her gloved hand and shook it solemnly, as if sealing a treaty. "Perish the thought," he replied with a wink that made the Dragon Witch's heart skip, despite her glare.
The tension and aggression in the room had transmuted into camaraderie and exhilaration. Rivalries had sparked, yes – Freya and Artemis exchanged pointed looks behind Solus's back, each silently staking her claim at either arm, while Kiara sidled up to Jeanne Alter and Morgan remarking how lovely raw passion was to witness (earning a groan from Jalter and an eye-roll from Morgan). But bonds had also begun to form: Shion and Ais excitedly chatting about battle techniques as they helped reset a table knocked over in the scuffle; Yoruichi complimenting Harribel on her stealthy entrance and Harribel quietly thanking her for being civil; Milim animatedly recounting to Velzard how "awesome" Solus was ("Did you see him eat the fire, Auntie?! He ate it!") and Velzard responding with a light chuckle and a fond pat on the smaller girl's head, the levity thawing her ancient reserve.
Solus moved through his guests, offering gracious words here, playful banter there, ensuring cups were refilled and egos soothed where necessary. In truth, none nursed any anger now – he had seen to that. Instead, a magnetic admiration had taken root in nearly every heart present. Some, like Freya and Scáthach, recognized it for what it was immediately: devotion. Others, like Morgan or Harribel, would take longer to admit such a thing, but the seeds were undeniably sown.
As the hours of this Opening Night stretched toward an ethereal dawn (for who could tell time in a place between worlds?), the tavern was filled with unlikely laughter and whispered conversations of shared experiences across universes. The initial barriers between heroines from different realms had begun to crack under the weight of this singular adventure they now shared.
Artemis found herself giggling softly (for the first time in centuries) as Yoruichi and Shion urged her to try a sip of sake – which burned her throat and made her cough, causing the trio to laugh. Jeanne Alter sat at the hearth with Kiara and Yin Feixuan, where Kiara slyly nudged the two into comparing notes on what it feels like to embrace one's darker impulses; surprisingly, by the end, Jalter and Yin realized they had more in common than expected and exchanged grudging nods of understanding.
Misery quietly spoke with Unohana about medicinal herbs found in their respective worlds, forging a link between two normally silent caretakers. Ais shyly asked Scáthach for training advice, which the elder lancer happily gave, already planning the next morning's sparring session ("If this place even has a morning," Ais mused, to which Scáthach laughed, "We'll make one").
Freya nestled comfortably at Solus's right side, Artemis at his left, as they all finally took a moment to relax on the large sofa before the fireplace. The goddess of beauty and the goddess of chastity exchanged a look over Solus's form – a look that said: Truce, for now. Solus closed his eyes briefly, imprinting this tableau of success in his memory. Around him, the most remarkable women of innumerable worlds were mingling like old friends and new lovers, and at the center of it all, each one's gaze would inevitably return to him with reverence, obsession, or yearning.
A contentment – a kind of prideful joy – welled in Solus's chest. This was what he had wanted: a night where the impossible was made real, where boundaries broke and hearts opened under his gentle domination.
He stood once more, and tapped a spoon against a glass (one of the few untouched by battle damage). The subtle chime drew attention. "My dear guests," he said, voice low and sincere in the hush, "tonight has exceeded even my lofty expectations. I thank you all for indulging in this little dream of mine." His golden eyes swept over them – the fierce, the noble, the cunning, the innocent – each unique, each now irrevocably part of his story. "The Laughing Throne will always be open to you. May our bonds deepen, our stories intertwine, and our revelries continue long into eternity."
Glasses raised again, not in a raucous toast this time but in a silent, almost solemn salute. Many nodded, smiles playing on their lips. Some – like Scáthach, Freya, and oddly Jeanne Alter – felt a sudden tightness in their chest at his gracious words, a longing for more nights like this, for deeper connection.
Solus then flashed a final devilish grin, breaking the tender moment just enough: "And remember, the house policy: fall madly in love at your own risk. Side effects include eternal obsession, undying loyalty, and tendency to gatecrash all my future parties."
Laughter rippled through the group – genuine, warm. Yoruichi raised her cup, "I'll drink to that side effect." Milim leapt onto a table, nearly slipping on a puddle of spilled ale, and declared, "Solus, you're the best! I'm gonna come to every party!" which earned cheers of agreement and a few playful groans.
Under the merriment, devotions were quietly forming like unbreakable threads. Artemis realized with a start that her vow of chastity didn't feel compromised at all – it felt…fulfilled, redefined in service to a cause, a person, beyond herself. Morgan felt hope stir – perhaps here was someone she could follow without regret. Harribel, who had always protected others, felt oddly safe under someone else's protection. And Freya… Freya knew she had found the shining soul she would chase to the ends of all worlds.
Thus did Arc I – Opening Night – draw to a close, not with an end, but a beginning. As conversations and laughter carried on into the dim hours, each heroine realized in her own way that she had stepped onto a new path tonight. They orbited Solus Mirthveil now, drawn inextricably by the gravity of his being – some eagerly, some reluctantly, all inevitably.
High above, through the tavern's stained-glass dome, the myriad stars of countless skies twinkled in unison. Perhaps amused, perhaps in approval, as the first chapter of this cross-universal tale came to its triumphant close – a tale of effortless domination, flirtatious chaos, and the gathering of hearts destined to beat as one around the Laughing Throne.