I don't get paid enough for this. . . ((Beowulf, Molpadia))

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The Ebony Warrior released a sigh of relief as he stepped into the inn with his patron, grateful that the sun was no longer beating on his shoulders. Now thinking about it, it wasn't smart that Beowulf decided to wear his usual attire here in this sunny and hot area. Black absorbed much more heat than lighter colors, so. . .

How lovely.

In Beowulf's defense, it was the only combat apparel he had. So he just had to deal with it.

It wasn't anything new. When he was hired, it was bound for him to go to all types of places, and ever since he had two daughters, he began to charge more so he could support both himself and two infants. He lost a bit of business, but at the same time the high price drew in more fellows who assumed that if Beowulf's services were pricy, it meant he was good. Which he was-- he just wasn't an expert just yet, as he has fought for only around 3 or 4 years. But who says he won't become one?

This time, Beowulf's patron was quite the mystery. All he said was that he needed someone to protect him from an assassination. He didn't say why, and frankly Beowulf didn't care. As long as he got paid, Beowulf was happy and had no concern for this man's personal life. He was lead to Anthripos, and into the exclusive room upstairs at the very top of a fancy inn. As soon as Beowulf's employee shut his door to sleep, Beowulf positioned himself right in front of the doorway, firm and ready for whatever would come. His sword was at his back, and his fingers itched to grab it.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Molpadia's shoulder started to ache. Setting the man down with a huff she looked at Beo. She sighed and rolled her shoulder hearing a satisfying crack. Humming at his question she wondered what would she do. Of course, she's ventured into those lands, but she always made sure no babies would be had. Her mother, Ra, would frown upon her if she didn't take the kids. Actually, every woman would in Gynaikes. She called it motherly instinct or just common sense.

"I would keep the children. That's horrible she left you because of her own pettiness. They're her children to, she laid with you, she knew the consequences. At least you did the right thing and kept them. Surprised you didn't drag her back and forced her to help raise them. I would have done that." Matching Beo's tone as she spoke.

That woman was sick in the head. Leaving her own children just because she didn't want to be a mother, how pathetic. Especially since he didn't want to be a father either it wasn't fair. If she ever saw Esther she just might end up killing her.

"Hopefully you find that someone who loves you and your children. Someone that your children can look up to and call mother." She shook her head. "Sorry motherly instinct is kicking in." She smiled.

Perhaps it was here when Beowulf began to see the assassin in a light he didn't think he would. Molpadia's words made the Ebony Warrior's shoulders relax, and it made his tone soften a bit.

"I hope so, too."

Under his helmet, he was gazing at the lovely lady. At first sight he thought that they would become enemies, but now he began to admire her. Maybe it was that she was so open to him about personal matters. Beowulf always wanted to confide in someone about his mishap, but there was no one for him to talk to. Maybe it was that Molpadia was very kind. It could be that she was pretty as well, but that wasn't the sole reason. That was just a plus.

Beowulf blushed under the shadow of his helm. He was already falling for a gal he just met that day. How bizarre was that?  

"Perhaps one day you can meet Yvonne and Sona," he mused to her as his voice returned to normal, finishing up his digging. Molpadia was a person he trusted now. Anyone who had the privilege of gazing upon two adorable babies could rest assured that it was a token of Beowulf's faith. "If you want to."

The Ebony Warrior dropped the shovel to his side. "Okay. There's his grave."

Molpadia smiled at Beo. Does he like her? It felt like he had put a curse on her. Oh, how she wanted to lose herself in his eyes. Nodding at Beo being done with digging the man's grave she picked up the corpse and tossed him into the hole. She was happy that she wouldn't ever see this man again. Finally, she could go home and get some proper rest. Maybe even help Beo get home as well.

"I would be honored to see your beautiful daughters, Beowulf. Let's hope that day comes soon," Molpadia thought for a bit before saying,"Maybe you can even meet my parents. Be warned my mother can be overzealous whenever I bring home a man. Guess she wants me to have a family someday." She huffed at the thought of her mother squealing at Beo.

Her mother was always a strange case when it came to Mol's love life. Ever since her first love Ra's hope for Mol to get married increased. When Mol came home Ra always asked if she met anyone that was worth of Molpadia's hand in marriage. Usually, Mol would just shrug and go on with her way, but maybe she'll say yes to her mother's question.

"If you like I could walk back to Kryo with you. Gynaikes isn't that far away."

Beowulf was quick to scoop up the dirt and shovel the soil back into the hole. It was somewhat satisfying to see the stuff gradually cover the dead man, and the Ebony Warrior continued to shovel the dirt inside the hole until it was full. He stood back to examine his work. The poor owners of this garden would have no idea what laid beneath their feet. Hopefully they wouldn't find out about Beowulf's deceased employer there for a long time, seeing as he made sure the hole was deep. He released a sigh from his lips, relieved that this was over, and he could go home and snuggle his daughters.

As he stretched his limbs, he smiled whilst listening to Molpadia. He huffed a bit in amusement as he imagined her mother, a crotchety woman who wanted to match her daughter up with someone. Beowulf imagined his own mother would be the same, if they still lived together. Sadly, that was not the case. He missed his family, but at the same time he didn't have much time to think about them and brood about being apart.

The Ebony Warrior twisted his head to look at Molpadia. He allowed himself to crack a small grin, and was thankful it was concealed under his helmet. His only reply was "Sure, if you want, I guess," but he was hoping that she wouldn't mind coming back with him.

Molpadia nodded her head. She knew it was probably going to be a long trip back to Kryo. Suddenly an idea popped into her head. Why not steal some horses? There were many travelers that came to Anthripos, many who walked and many who rode. Tapping her chin she began to think, where did she see horses. Her brain came up empty. Sighing this meant one of two things, they could either look around to find transportation or they could go on foot.

"Beo," She began, "Would you mind if we looked around for other means of transportation? Or we can go on foot if you so desire. Either way means I get to spend more time with you and that brings me great joy." Of course, she wasn't going to stop her flirtations. If anything they were going to get worse. "Don't think I didn't catch you gazing at me earlier, mister."

Oh, how she loved it when he stared at her. It made her feel valued. Could a man actual like her for her instead of her looks? She guessed she was about to find out.

Transportation, eh? Most of Beowulf's employers would walk on foot no matter the situation, and he understood why. Horses were rather expensive these days, and he was sure that people wouldn't want to buy an extra horse for a mere hireling such as Beowulf. What was the point, when they'd have to part ways in the end, be it by death or by choice? Besides, Beowulf wouldn't want to get a fence for the animal, and of course he'd have to buy food for it and along with keeping it in good health. He could just let it out into the wild, but after being domesticated he wasn't sure if the steed would survive. After all, he was an animal lover at heart. He couldn't just abandon an animal.

At least carriage rides were cheap in comparison to getting horses.

Before he made his suggestion, he glared away from Molpadia bashfully, his face heating up. So she saw him sneaking. . . He thought he was doing a good job at being discreet!

"Um," he began in a shy yet grumpy mumble, "we can hire a carriage.. I have the money for it." Beowulf always brought money with him on missions, just in case he had to buy food or a room in the inn. He never thought he would use it to ride home to Kryo with a woman he tried to kill earlier that night.

Molpadia raised a brow. Pay for a mere carriage ride, where was the fun in that. It was a rarity if she even brought money with her. Being stealth was a gift that came naturally to her so she never really bothered with money. Rolling her eyes and shaking her head she began to wonder if this guy had any form of fun. She wasn't going to let Beo use any of his money on her especially since he had a family to take care of. So, she was going to steal a carriage instead.

"Please, there's no need to spend money, not on me anyway. Plus, I can steal a carriage it's not that hard and you can sell the carriage and horses when you get home. Unless you want to be a goody two shoes and pay it." With a turn on her heel, she went off to find them a carriage.

Last time she did this was when her target was in one. Which led to a high-speed chase. It was fun at the time but a pain as well. Oh, how she relished that memory.

"If you stick with me I can teach you a few tricks of the trade. While I value my fans more, I'm quite good with a sword. But enough about me, let's get home."

Although standoffish, Beowulf was still a man with morals, and frowned at the prospect of stealing a carriage. It already appeared that Molpadia was determined to get it done though, so the man merely sighed and let her do her work. He wouldn't help her though, as he didn't want to be part of any form of crime. He still appreciated her though, and knew she had good intentions.

Beowulf watched the woman do her handiwork, abd then the two were off.

~~Boop that time skoop~~

The cold of Kryo would shoo most away, but Beowulf saw the snowy place as home. The Ebony Warrior exhaled a puff of relief when he arrived, his breath appearing as a light mist in the air. Every muscle in his body urged him to run to the room he had in the inn to scoop up his children and snuggle them close. He had missed them both very dearly, yet he thought it would be rude to just abandon Molpadia like that. Beowulf was just glad that the innkeeper was willing to look after the twins, along with his two beloved pets Penelope and Aran. Aran was easy to look after at least, since crabs were scavengers and would eat anything organic. Often the crab was just given cheese or bread, and that sufficed.

"Well, this is Kryo." Beowulf looked at Molpadia. "Cold weather is nice, but whatever. Not like I care." He shrugged, yet he was secretly relishing in the snowfall.

Molpadia reached her hand out to catch some snowflakes. Oh, how she loved the snow. When it would snow, Sudan and her tried to out compete each other by seeing who could catch the most snowflakes. They would melt in their hands so no one knew who won. With a sigh, she hopped off the carriage.

"Would you mind if I went and saw your daughters? I'm curious what they look like. My money is on that they're gorgeous." She stood looking Beo where his eyes would be if he had his helmet off. "You know, you remind me of the snow. You act all cold but once someone shows you some warmth you get all melty."

Her head turned to the inn. So this is where he took shelter, Molpadia was going to remember this place just in case she ever got lonely or bored. Was this it? Were they going to part ways and never see each other again? She hoped he would want to see her again. She was ready to leap into his arms and say how much she loved him. Oh, how she knew this was going to happen. One day she was going find the one and she thought she had found him.

The Ebony Warrior replied to Molpadia with a scoff. Cold?! He wasn't cold! Beowulf was amazing, according to Esther. . . Well, erm, if you think about it, maybe Esther wasn't much of a reliable source. . .

Beowulf grunted. "Fine, whatever." He took a step towards the inn and entered. People were drinking, raising their mugs high as they cheered about something Beowulf didn't know or care about. One may look at the beverage with longing, but after Beowulf had Yvonne and Sona he stopped drinking the stuff. He didn't want to be loopy or hazed around two such fragile beings. . .

The man's room was down a long hallway, passing the innkeeper as he lead Molpadia to his quarters. The innkeeper looked surprised, but nodded to Beowulf in acknowledgement. If the innkeeper was out here, then the babies and pets must have been well fed and sleeping.

As they entered the room, the Ebony Warrior instantly took off his helmet and moved to the two cradles beside his bed. Inside were two tiny babies, female, and identical twins. Mats of red hair laid over their heads, yet Beowulf knew that Sona inherited his silver eyes, and Yvonne had twelve fingers like he. He spotted Penelope, his pet tarantula, nestled in his bed covers, peering out at Beowulf with her eight eyes. Aran was bound to be in their box, probably munching on some food.

With gentle arms, Beowulf picked up Yvonne, holding her fondly to his chest. His daughter only shifted, yawning, but didn't wake from her slumber. He turned to Molpadia. For once, he cracked a small smile. "Would you like to hold her?" Never in his life did he ask someone else if they would like to hold his baby. He trusted Molpadia though, and felt safe around her.

"It would be an honor, Beowulf." Molpadia cooed at the little babies. She cradled the fragile baby in her arms. In Gynaikes most of the new mothers would come to Ra for advice. Mol, of course, would get some practice in being a mother, whether she was forced to or not. Never in her days has she ever seen such pretty little babes in her life. She took in the little one's features; twelve fingers were on her hands, much like her father's.

"Let me guess this is, Yvonne, right?" She spoke in a soft manner not wanting to wake her from her peaceful slumber. Her rust coloured hair draped over her face before she pushed it back. "Huh, I guess our hair looks similar little cutie." Basking in the babe's presence she smiled down at the little being she held in her arms.

Beowulf was like a completely new person around his daughters, and the man beamed proudly. He scooped up Sona gently, who let out a tiny peep, but said nothing as she nestled herself into her father's arms. He stroked the little one's hair, smiling.

"That's right." His gaze shifted to look at Molpadia. "Yvonne, a key to my heart." He smiled as he watched Yvonne. The little baby opened a pair of chocolate brown eyes and gazed at the assassin quizzically. Now that Beowulf thought about it, Molpadia was the only person he let hold his offspring. He didn't even let the innkeeper lay a hand on them.

The Ebony Warrior was surprised to see how well Molpadia cradled the little dot. . . Gently, her arms shaped perfectly in the form of Yvonne, as if that place was made specifically for the tiny entity. Beowulf chuckled. "You're good with them, aren't you?"

Molpadia gave a small smile to Yvonne, "Hi there little one." She moved her gaze to Beo. "My mother would be disappointed in me if I wasn't. Then again you could say it comes naturally to me since I'm a woman." Returning her gaze to the small being she held.

"You have gorgeous children. I guess you must have some really good genes." She walked over to the crib that once held them. Laying Yvonne carefully back into the crib she turned to Beo, "It was great meeting you. I'm afraid this is where our paths separate. You have your duties while I have mine. That being said I must tell my chief the good news. So long, Babe."

Walking out of his room her heart was a ticking time bomb of love and it had just gone off. Putting up her hood trying to hide in the comfort of the shadows. Why was she getting so emotional over some man? She could just find another one, but none of them would compare to Beowulf Zhada from Kryo. Exiting the inn into the Kryo's unforgiving air, Molpadia wrapped herself in her cloak and started her walk back to her home...