Forty Years of This [Monster Hunter World]

Chapter 37

Before he got dressed in the morning, before he ate or groomed, the Commander sat with his partner to watch dawn break over the eastern edge of the ocean. They were so far north that the sun appeared more southerly than in the Old World. The day was long, chaotic, and demanding, but his mornings didn't have to be. Even if he chose to take breakfast with the council or in the canteen, he could still have his quiet moments looking over the ocean.

The Quartermaster sat beside him in his wicker chair going over the day's inventory and schedule. He looked quite scholarly-- the Commander could easily see him working in research or as some sort of bookkeeper back in the Old World with his neat appearance and sharp mannerisms. Even after all of their decades in Astera, he thought the Quartermaster still didn't look like he belonged. He was far too well groomed. Far too sharp and clean. He lacked the rugged appearance of a man who'd been living at the edge of civilization for the past twenty some-odd years. Of course, the Commander loved that about him. He loved how his partner seemed untouched by the world around him. How he did not let the world change his beauty. It was mornings like this that the Commander ignored the sunrise and instead watched his Quartermaster.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on their door. Before he could get up to answer it or even respond, the door opened and their daughter called out.

"Mornin' Dad! Mornin' Pops!"

"Mornin' ██." The Commander smiled when his daughter bent over to kiss his cheek. She left her hand on his shoulder when she turned to the Quartermaster who looked up from his work to nod a greeting to her.

"So uh, Pops. I've been thinking..."

"Yes, ██?"

"Well it's about how I want my kid to see the world, and you did me a lot of favors by showing me everything you know, but..."

The man's expression shifted from placid curiosity to concern based on perceived rejection. "But..?"

"But you have a sort of misanthropic view of society, and I don't want my kid growing up thinking-- fearing really, that his fellow people are the real monsters. I don't want you teaching him your particularly brutal version of self defense."

The Quartermaster stared dumbly at her then turned back to his work. Their daughter might not have recognized it, but the Commander saw the heartbreak in past his carefully constructed exterior.

"Very well." The man's voice was as calm as it ever was. "With luck, he will never need it anyways. I have not needed it since I arrived here, and my measures can be extreme. I am aware of that. I will. Defer to your judgement, my child."

"Hey... Pops?" She stepped around the Commander and lightly placed her hand on the Quartermaster's shoulder, and when he didn't withdraw or dip his shoulder down, she rested her hand more firmly on it.

"Fear not. I will ensure that he has the same education you were given. Though I might teach him to dance as well--"

"No." The Commander raised a brow and gave the Quartermaster a very pointed look. "I've seen you dance, and that's torture. I mean, you're very good at it, and you look amazing doing it, but how you stay in form, and the crazy acts you do? ████████, I love you. I love you so much, but that is brutal, and I cannot condone you passing it on to our grandson."

"████ it's ballet."

"You hurt your knee last week, and you insisted on continuing to dance on it. You know better, but you still did it-- it puts you in this mindset that changes how you handle injury, and I don't want our grandson to internalize that."

"It does not change--"

"It kinda does, Pops. I'm banning ballet lessons now too. No self defense or ballet from you. Capiche?"

The Quartermaster, out numbered, huffed and gave up. Their daughter patted his shoulder, kissed the Commander's cheek again, and left.

"On a brighter note," the Commander began with hopes of lifting the Quartermaster's mood. "The research base will be relocating to the ancient forest today. Some hunters have already scouted out a place on the great tree itself, so we'll be able to see how the local wildlife responds to it. And it'll be exciting to be able to spend some time up there..."

"Are you planning on being on the airship? How will you get back for your duties here?"

"I have one good leg. I'll take a wingdrake. Come with me. It'll be useful for you to know more intimately what these flights require, and it could be like a vacation for us. Or at least a change in scenery." The Commander leaned over the arm of his chair to brush the Quartermaster's cheek. If he could get the man to smile... "I haven't been to the canopy since my injury, but I'd like to see it with you."

And there it was. A softness to the Quartermaster's face that hadn't been there a moment before and a sly look to his eye. "If I were the only quartermaster here, I would have to refuse, but as I am not, and as I have trained a few people on how to manage their inventory... I'm sure Astera could survive a few days without me. But first I will have to prepare. I know the analytics director has been on several test flights-- what with the research master being his sister and all, so he should understand the importance of us all going in shifts. But having a quartermaster who's not been on a flight before on an important flight without an experienced..."

As the Quartermaster went over his mental checklist of what he would need to do to prepare both himself and the commission for him to join the flight, the Commander stood and began to finish getting ready for the day. He dressed, ate, brushed his teeth, and sharpened his razor, and by the time he was done, the Quartermaster was ready to join him. They had a long day ahead of them, and the Commander couldn't wait to get started.