Had she not been a good wife? Her infractions had felt so huge, so insurmountable and at times, a complete betrayal and yet... her heart rages on with the insufferable unbalance of it all.

There was nothing to suggest her thoughts lately had been anything as dark as they really were, or at least very little. The Scot queen had fulfilled her duties as bidden, raising her children and departing the Mire on an occasional hunt. Sláine had fallen into a routine, allowing the days to sweep into weeks, ignoring the presence of other mewling, of an empty marital bed for whole nights at a time.

What good was her commitment if it was not reciprocated? Was she just getting too old for all this?

Despite herself, she is happy in many ways. The days are filled with love for her daughters and on the nights Alaric graced her with his presence... well, that was happy too. Perhaps she would never have the peace she truly sought, the promise of it always lingering just out of reach. Perhaps no one ever really achieved it.

Caught in a particularly mixed mood, Sláine lounged on the open ground before her den, soaking up the last of the sun's rays whilst at the same time, expertly skinning a rabbit.

@Alaric

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If he could have it as he wanted it they would have both been here. Her and Tin, tucked away in the comforting embrace of the Mire. Together, as a happy family; the life he had always envisioned.

Strange, for a man so known for brutality, to have such soft thoughts.

He had tried to be fair with his time. Split between a wife here and a wife in the lagoon. Alaric was not blind to the pain that it caused them both but knew not how to fix it; he loved them, equally, and could no sooner set one free than he could remove his own limb.

Meanwhile he had the wolves at his door and war looming on the horizon and frankly he grew weary of it all. No matter what he did (or said) he could not appease the masses -- hell, he could not even appease his own family, or those closest to him.

He comes to her, hesitant, always unsure if she will one day reject his presence. "My love," he murmured, settling down to watch her, trying to ease the tension he sensed with gentle teasing, "I always loved to see the blood on your claws..."

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She did not know if he realised the power he held, though surely he must by now. He is King in all that he does, formidable, fierce, and yet gentle. He is father and protector. A prince of such standing cannot help but be flocked to, a woman at each side, vying for his attention, aching to be all and everything in between.
Slaine has been such a woman, and even now, knowing as she does how the world will not bend to her whims, she still cannot help but raise her head to watch him approach. Feeling pain and desire stir all at once. Eyes swept across the imposing figure of her husband as he settled down, the distraction of his presence stalling her work, the rabbit poised between her foreclaws as he spoke.
A small exhale escaped from between inky lips, unaware until then that she had been holding her breath. Always waiting for the words that they did not speak, the conversations they seldom had. Fear that he would speak of it. Of the others, of his other families. Of the day when he would set her aside.

So many fears. Like disease, they had set in and fanned her own treachery.

Instead she smiled, relieved at the escape and yet somehow, disappointed too. "Aye?" She replied, an inescapable glint in her eye as she flexed a bloodied paw. "I'll remember tha' when we next spar." @Alaric was hard to resist. That was the most infuriating thing and she couldn't help but want him to love her, to need her.

"Hae ye let Nephthys free?" She asked suddenly, skull tilting in question. Hoping for both a yes and a no. Oh, Slaine, what a fickle minded beast you are.

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If he knew the view she had of him he might have scoffed. Alaric was aging; the women that fought for his attention were long gone. There were two that had earned it -- two that had stuck by him through thick and thin. With Aidoneus having all but disappeared after their last litter were born he found himself of no desire to seek any other wives; Slaine and Tinuviel were more than enough.

If only he could have them both here, together. Then, perhaps, he could ease the tension he felt, thrumming always just beneath the surface. "Oh aye?" A grin as he thought of sparring, a flex of claws in anticipation. "I'll have you beneath me faster than you can blink," he taunted, though he did not doubt his wife's prowess in battle. She had proven it more than once.

Conversation switches to Neph and he releases a huff of air, a sigh of sorts. "I am not in the business of keeping those that do not wish to stay. Much as I am loathe to see her at his side." He was wary of the topic, side-eying Slaine as he spoke. "She came with a.... surprising offer...." Watching his wife more closely, now, careful of the unsteady earth he tread upon.

"They offered a betrothal... between ours and theirs." Bracing for the inevitable backlash that would come from it, certain he knew exactly where she stood on that matter.

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The curve of her smile deepened, reaching up in to sapphire eyes and drawing out an unexpected 'huff' from between pale lips, a quickening sense of desire knotting in her lower stomach. "I should like tha'." She replied in a low, conspiratorial tone.

She moved to rest the bloodied claw across her kill once again, needling into the fur more than was necessary or good for it. Anticipation threatening to cloud her thoughts. If she'd been in a sassier mood, she might have quipped about him falling beneath her this time, but the fact was that even a warrior like Slaine enjoyed the power her King could exert over her when it came to it.

Perhaps somewhere in her consciousness she knows his most ardent wish, that she and his wives could live together - unified by a happy male dream of sisterhood. Perhaps once in Slaine's early life that would have been possible, even more so given her attraction to other females. She had also never rejected raising his children nor had she ever supposed she was the only one to hold the King's heart. But age and loss had changed her more than she had at first realised and whilst all children were innocents deserving of love, the sovereign just did not have it in her to share her throne or bed with another woman. Not when she could not share her heart in equal measure.

It may be that was why she feared replacement. She was also not as young nor as beautifully fragile as some of Alaric's conquests. The end would come, as all good things ended for Slaine eventually. By her own paw or his. It was the way of life. But when he looked at her the way he did then she knew it would be a difficult wrench, especially when her yearning heart and aching body still sought him out at the end of each day.

It seemed that Nephthys would be free after all, and as much as Slaine was relieved to see Alaric's red mistress depart the swamp, it hurt her as equally to see her take her place beside Ronin. "If he must hae someone. Then better it be a friend o' yers." She replied, offering the peacekeeping type of speech that is expected of her, though the words were quite true. Slaine cared less for peace in general than Alaric did but perhaps Nephthys would be able to do what the scot could not. For indeed both men seemed to hold her feelings into higher account.

Unwarranted bitterness does not suit the warrior and she shook the harsh thoughts away, instead choosing to raise her brow at the mention of Nephthys' parting offer. A betrothal? Surely Ronin had not been party to that?
"Nae. Never." The queen replied in a dismissive tone, her gaze searching out Alaric's reaction as her grip tightened on the rabbit, near cutting it in half. "I wouldnae wish tae shackle any o' the bairns tae anyone." Perhaps she could not interfere in Alaric's choices for his children, but as far as the eight* children between them, she intended to give them the freedom to live -and love- as they chose.
But perhaps @Alaric would overrule her for the sake of pride alliances and peace.

*includes vulferam, ottilie, giulia & hubert

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Oh and he would have taken her then and there. Wanted to, badly, when she spoke of wants and desires. There is only the vague sense of tension that keeps him back, watching her with a heated gaze but making no move. It is a show of respect, really, for the Alaric of old would not have hesitated. The Alaric of old would have had her beneath him faster than she could blink, carving his need in to her flesh with his teeth and claws.

Now he watches her mutilate the carcass and he rumbles a low sound of said desire, but he does not move. He could not possibly know of her thoughts or he might have pushed his luck, reminding her again and again of how much he loved her. If he had any inkling she thought of leaving him... any idea of who she still held in her heart...

But he is, pathetically, oblivious. Naive, even; a sad assessment for such a long ruling King.

"Mmm, you know you're right." He doesn't sound pleased about it, but at least he can admit the value in letting Nephthys leave. Perhaps she'd be able to keep things calm between the Mire and the Oasis, though he wasn't entirely convinced of that fact. Alaric had the inkling that one way or another his and Ronin's story would end in blood.

@Sláine 's reaction to the proposal was exactly as he had expected it to be. He feels a flare of frustration -- a distant desire to put her in her place and demand it to be -- but he tamps it down with years of practice behind his paw. "I told her as much," he says instead, "but I promised we'd discuss it." Even if the discussion ended with a simple no, at least he fulfilled his end of the deal.

"I'm not sure how else to maintain peace between us, Slaine. This might yet end in war." It wasn't what he wanted -- hell, he didn't want any bit of this feud that had ignited between Ronin and himself -- but the Oasis ruler seemed bound and determined to cross the Mire at every step. There were only so many times that Alaric could turn a blind eye. And after learning of his maim on Astarte (unnecessary, after he had already won) he was more inclined to believe that he would not stop until he had ripped a scar through Alaric's pride.

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If only they could find a way to fit together, each of them a jigsaw piece with an edge almost perfect for the other. But it was the continual rub together of these rough, near fitting parts that bore responsibility for the unease that increasingly disturbed an otherwise happy union.
Slaine wondered if it were her jigsaw piece that was at fault. Probably.

Despite the tension wrought by Alaric's caution and Slaine's prickly mood, the queen looked to her King with the desire she imagined she saw flash within his own gaze. If ever they were lost, it was an easy way to find one another again.

@Alaric agreed that having Nephthys onside would most likely be of benefit to him and Slaine felt not for the first time that perhaps the red woman would have a better head for politics as queen than the Scot herself. Slaine was quite insular and had little interest beyond her own pride and family.

The fact of which would become apparent when Alaric expressed his concern regarding the likelihood of war with the Oasis. His queen would look to him, her expression not so much blank as simply accepting of the situation at hand. "Then we would fight." She replied, her lips pulling downward into a frown. "Ye cannae turn a blind eye always an' if our family is at risk then we dae what we must." It turned her stomach inside out to imagine that Ronin would bring such danger to her children and to her home. But if he did, she could not stand idly by.

Perhaps that was the most important way in which she and Alaric fit perfectly, whatever happened, they were a family.

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So that was that, then.

He exhales, realizing that this simple assessment unburdened him significantly. While Alaric did not wish to seek open war with Ronin and his allies he would not be shoehorned in to seeking peace with one so clearly determined to have the opposite. Ronin had made fool of him once already; Alaric would not stand by and let it happen again.

"I do not wish for it," he gives her this at least, "but aye, we will do what we must." And if that meant fighting his once-friend and ally then so be it, Alaric had an inkling that it was inevitable that the two would clash claws again anyway. He merely refused to strike the first blow.

Shifting, he sought to bring them closer, to bridge the gap between them. Seeking reassurance in her touch, wishing to bury the tension that loomed. "Did you know he nearly gutted Astarte?" The thought struck him, then, and he looked to his queen with a tip of his head, wondering if she had been aware of the blows that had been struck against them already.

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The muscles that had pulled her features into a frown forget not to budge and ignore the instruction she gives for them to remain passive and unmoved. Instead they relax into surprise as Alaric stated that he did not wish for war with Andal or Ronin. Even though Sláine was reluctant herself, she was not sure why her King had played the peacekeeper for so long. Even she had seen the baiting of the Svend toward not just Alaric or herself, but Ecrosia.
A slither of vanity dares to think that it is because of her, because he does not wish to upset his queen by pulling down a man she had loved. But the Scot knows without doubt that this is the least reason, if it is a reason at all. Perhaps Alaric felt beholden to Nephthys... or more likely, he simply did not desire more enemies and wanted to keep the Mire safe.
Sláine cannot help but feel the disappointment of a younger self, who would have been mad with desire for a war raged over her heart and it is for those foolish (and dangerous) thoughts that she is glad that her husband had a more sensible head upon his shoulders.
"Aye and we will win." His wife nodded, as grim as he but assured of the outcome.

The bloodied rabbit caught between her paws was set aside, discarded quietly as the King moved closer, a new kind of tension arising by his sudden proximity. Sláine's sapphire gaze drank him in, instinctively leaning closer as she felt quickening surge through her lower stomach. Heart and body longing for their union.

But his words give food for thought and she pauses. "Aye, I ken (knew)." She confirmed, eyeing her husband carefully, as if she might suddenly come under suspicion. "I was witness tae Adalwolf's attempt fer retribution on her behalf." And the failure of that attempt. "I told ye tha' Ronin haed been taking aim at us." Perhaps she ought to have been more transparent in the hows or whys, but they had been caught amidst their own relationship troubles and she had been foolish enough to think she could resolve it all herself.

The queen took a breath, measuring the extent of honesty to be delivered in her next words when she had resolved never to speak of it. Longing for the whole truth to exist between them, and yet, terrified. "I confronted Ronin an' maimed his cheek. I haed hoped it would be th' end o' it." The truth for sure, but only part of it. Sláine holds back from herself the memory of that storm laden night, wherein she had proved to be the worst of wives.

A gentle blue paw raised and settled across Alaric's. "I love ye." She said, looking into his eyes, because it was true. Even after everything she had done.

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There were more than a few factors in play when he thought of rising against Ronin. Slaine and Nephthys equally, but the fact that they had once been friends was not lost on him either. That being said he wasn't going to stand by if the man continued to attack his members, and he nodded as Slaine foretold their victory. "Aye, we will." He had faith in his members, and in the fights they had won already.

"You did," he agreed, but there is a frown set on his face again. "Going forward if you could give me the details..." he trailed off, not wanting to be angry with her but feeling frustrated with the entire situation. He tenses when she mentions that she confronted the man, a lip curling back from his teeth out of instinct. "Don't... not again. If it comes to it I will face him."

There is a touch to his paw and his gaze drops to it. The frustration and fear he felt (for though he knew she could handle herself he did not wish to see her hurt) evaporated, swallowed by a rising heat. With a strangled groan he leaned in to his wife, burying his head in her neck. "I love you, too," he rumbled, closing the distance between them and seeking to forget all the politics and give in to the desires of the body, instead.

-exit via talking/fading/etc- xD

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