Astarte had just laid the cubs down, and they soon fell to sleep, once satisfied they wouldn't wake, she dipped out of the den and headed to patrol the borders, she would make to the edge of Ecrosia after awhile, the moon in the sky illuminated her crimson figure, she slowly walked, not in a big hurry. Her ears were perked for any danger, her eyes sliding over the territory, once she figured everything was safe, she found a place to lounge for a bit, her body lay across a fallen log, and she gazed down into the swampy waters.

Orange eyes peered into the murky waters, her tail lazily flicking and twirling around in the air, this was a quick moment of peace, something she didn't get much of now that she had three cubs nipping at her heels all of the time, she wouldn't trade them for the world though. Her children had taken hold of her the moment she had nuzzled them to her side.

this world is dying in our arms

He had not come to see them. It was another thing she would hold against him, but he found that he just did not care. He didn't have the energy to care. Not after all he had lost... Alaric knew they had been born, but he knew, too, what Adalwolf had told him. Lies and deception did not sit well with the wheat king, and he knew that any connection he'd had with Astarte must be severed. Perhaps that was why he had not hurried to see her once he had felt well enough to carry on with his duties -- he never cared much for confrontation. Peace would be disturbed that evening as he came upon her, and immediately his expression hardened. No time like the present and all that. "You lied to me." Let's get straight to it....

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She didn't hear him approach, she hadn't been listening, her mind was faraway, but she is quickly slammed into her body, grounding herself as she hears You lied to me. Her ear flicks, she does not face him though, her body tensed from the sudden peace being dashed across the stones.

"I didn't, I told you they may be yours. Now I know they're not. They could have been." She was blunt, where she didn't exactly lie, she hadn't told either the truth, her frustration at Adalwolf would have to wait though, she understood why her husband needed this alliance. In truth, she hadn't known really who's they were though she had leaned more towards Adalwolf because they'd slept together after her and Alaric, and the timelines could have overlapped.

She had been caring for the cubs and beginning her duties as wife, and hadn't thought to come to Alaric to see the cubs, though she had thought of him, she had been trying to do her duties to the Mire and to her family, especially because she'd almost perished after the birth of the last cub, it had taken sometime to heal after and she owed much of her survival and her cubs survival to Adalwolf. But because of this, she reckoned she couldn't hold anything against Alaric, maybe motherhood had changed her, maybe her husband had changed her, but she seemed more mature now, her life wasn't just about being a toy for a man with a broken heart to seek out after bad days, she wasn't just a meeting under the night sky, hidden behind mangroves and marsh weeds.

She loves him, loved? No, loves him. She would always carry the love she has for Alaric, like a scar of a battle wound, it would always be there, to remind her of what they had. And if he must sever their relations, whatever was between them, she would wear a brave face, and seemingly disappear from his life.

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this world is dying in our arms

His frown deepens, hating the games they played. Alaric preferred straightforward communication, and he felt very much as though she had led him to believe that she held him in higher regard than she evidently did. Unfair, perhaps, but he had meant when he had named her his, and she had clearly... not. "Could they have?" It felt very much like she had hurried to find another to warm her bed, or perhaps she had been lying to him all along? Perhaps Adalwolf had never just been a... friend.... "When you came to my borders with the Rike in tow, were you fucking him then, too?" He is harsh, crass and almost cruel, but had he ever been anything but? @Astarte had not seen the gentler side of the King, or at least not for any length of time. It is another loss to throw on the pile, though it is not the same. He had not loved Astarte. Alaric had wanted her, yes, but there had been no time for love. Or maybe he just did not move at the same pace she clearly needed. "If you had only been more patient." There is the slightest ring of regret, there, but he shakes it off with the next words. "I hope you're happy." And his tone does not betray his emotion, whether he means the words to be genuine or not..

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Astarte pinned her ears back and turned back to finally look at him, her shoulders trembled as the muscles underneath her skin tensed and untensed, her orange eyes met his tentatively, and she nodded softly, "Yes. They could have.. Alaric.. I hadn't slept with him, it had just happened that one time." She spoke truthfully, her and Adalwolf hadn't done anything until that one day, all that had happened up until that point was her being forced by lack of freedom.

"I didn't get a choice bringing him here, I didn't want him here at first. I don't know how any of this happened, he scarred me when we first met. That's how I was wounded after I joined, that's where my scar came from." Why was she speaking all of this now, why couldn't she shut up, Alaric wouldn't care now, but the words kept tumbling, falling out of her mouth just as tears began to fall from her eyes. She'd stayed in his arms once, crying, because she was scared, of someone she'd refused to speaks name, because she'd been threatened, but maybe she wasn't as scared now that Alaric was discarding her, now that the one who'd threatened her now owned her by marriage. "Patient? You could find others to warm your den, I never complained, I falter once, and you condemn me." She does not look at him now, her heart was breaking, and she could not find it in herself to settle her vision on the one who still held her heart, even as it was bring crushed.

this world is dying in our arms

Astarte tells him what she surely thinks he wants to hear, but all it does is anger him. Adalwolf had already spoken the truth, after all, and Alaric knew that she had lied. Lied to appease him, no doubt, or to keep him from knowing the reality of the situation? It was all twisted and tangled; she spoke of being forced, of being attacked and hurt, and yet... yet now she was mated to the Rike? In the span of a few short months? "He told me that he had you bring him here, to repay a debt. But that he had released any obligation after." Where was the truth amidst all the stories? Alaric's head was hurting just trying to figure it out, and he was growing more frustrated by it all. He should have spoken to them together; at least then he'd be able to figure out who told the truth and who lied. "Yet still you went back to him." That was on her. "You claimed to have loved me -- you were mine -- but you gave me no space to grieve." That was not love; monster though he might be even Alaric knew that. "I never once pretended to be anything but what I am. I could have lied, told you all the pretty words you wanted to hear, but I didn't. It would have been easy, @Astarte. To charm you, manipulate you, to speak of love when it did not yet exist." He shrugged. "In time it might have. I guess we'll never know." And surely she was all the happier for it..

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She pins her ears back as reality hits her, Adalwolf had spun his lies to protect himself, he'd thrown her to the wolves, using her as a shield to protect himself, her claws dug into the ground, "I was forced to play a part he thought up, I was wounded, he attacked me. I had stopped for a drink, I made eye contact with him and that was enough for him to attack." The truth spilled out of her, her chest rising and falling fast, she felt sick to her stomach, "He said if I mentioned our arrangement to you, if I screwed it up, I'd..." She shut her mouth quickly, eyes darting around, feeling the fear she'd once felt for her now husband creep up her spine.

She shook it off and looked at Alaric, "I don't know why I went to him, I was just checking on him, I can't tell you why it happened. I could blame it on my father's abuse towards my mother and siblings, my father's death, my father sleeping around, being told we'd stand trial since my family couldn't find my brother. Some trauma bound issue, I'm impulsive, I made a mistake. But I do love you, I do Alaric." She knew she had issues, she had never lied to anyone about that, she got high on the feeling of being under a male, and it was her downfall. "I gave you space, I let you seek me out, I never once tried to cling to you. You needed time, and iet you have it. Alaric, please, I am sorry, I do love you, I apologize for this whole mess. Please, you don't have to love me, you don't have to pretend anything, just please... Please don't abandon me." She had moved a little closer, her tail curled up, showing a submissive behavior, she pleaded with him.

Astarte felt the heart break and darkness that came with it, she would take anything, but to be abandoned, to be totally broke off, with her abandonment issues, her fear of rejection, it all would cause a spiral.

this world is dying in our arms

There are more details to her story than there had been to his, but does that mean she tells the truth? Alaric's frustration grows, unable to tell truth from lie, or perhaps unwilling to admit that his ally would deceive him so greatly. "It seems I should speak to you both at once, rather than run around looking for a straight story." His tail lashes at his hocks, a sign of his irritation, and ears press in to the thick of his mane. He would have questioned her further, possibly, trying to make sense of why she would have gone to him if he had truly been so horrid, but Astarte fills in the gaps all on her own. It is a sob story he had heard a thousand times -- hell, he had played the role of Adalwolf more than once before -- and he's not sure if that makes it better or worse. "Do not speak of love, @Astarte. You have made your choice." No matter how she felt about him, now, when she had given herself to another. Hypocrite, much? Have you not loved and yet lain with another? Have you not loved more than one at a time? "How much time? Was I supposed to get over my dead wife in the span of a few weeks? Months? How long was I allowed to grieve, Astarte?" He is angry, still, masking the hurt, giving himself to the more fiery feelings that crawled over his skin in such a familiar way. He moves closer, towering over her, craving the control that he feels spinning rapidly away. But then he stops, shakes his head, and does not close the distance between them. "You're not mine, now," he says through gritted teeth, annoyed at having lost one that he had so enjoyed. "I did not abandon you," he continued, and ignores the pang that came with letting go of one he had claimed, "but you have a mate, now." You abandoned me..

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He does not believe her, Adalwolf had kept his promise and spun his web before she could speak the truth, she inhaled, how hypocritical he could be, she let the hot tears stream down her cheeks, he could fuck other men's wives without blinking, seduce wives to lay with him she leave their families, but God forbid he have to taste a little of his own medicine. She was hurt, she was broken, but anger was also brewing inside of her, heat moving up her cheeks as she held back a sob.

He towers over her, like so many times before but his time she does not bow, if she was no longer his, then she would not submit under him, she snarled at him, fur bristling, testing him, his words roll over her and almost caused her to falter, but she stands flashing her teeth, a low growl filling the space between them.

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Truthfully he did not know which of them had lied and which had told the truth. If he were asked to name one over the other, now, he would hesitate. In his mind they had both lied -- the question was only which lie was worse.

And, perhaps, it did not matter. Except it bothered him, still, that she had led him to believe that the cubs could have been his, that she had gone to another after he had staked his claim.

Now, though, none of that mattered.

Now, as she rose to meet him with snarls and snapping teeth, he rumbles a low warning growl in return. Astarte may not be his but he would not hesitate to make her bend beneath his strength. This was his pride and she was still a part of it, so he would still expect her to show her submission to him.

And if she didn't? Well, he would make her, and he would not be held responsible for the consequences that may come of it.

coding and art by dusk