they came together in silence, the chasm punctuated only with breathy moans. it was easier to say nothing, to allow their bodies to speak all the words they cannot find, to put off the inevitable discussions.

one topic in particular loomed over his head, and though it is stayed until the night sky begins to lighten it rises, eventually. as he stirs with a hum, sated and content, pulling her tight against his chest with one lazily strewn leg. his lips drop to her ear, nibbling at the fur there in a way that is less heated and more contemplative.

it would be easier, still, to bury himself in her once more, to rise above and make his claim over and over. instead he breaks the sacred silence with a few small words, testing her responsiveness before delving in to more serious topics. "ich liebe dich." whispered ever so gently to that same ear. i love you.


@Tinúviel

They'd been wordless until that moment, that parting. Tinúviel's chest heaved with blissful delight, once more finding herself in the throes of their sweet aftermath. When @Alaric freed himself of her, she finally relented, feeling the pressure off her back relinquishing and her feathery breast able to take a full breath. The rain had long begun to wane, as had her desire to return to the Lagoon quite so soon. In this strange and unusual place, she did not feel the ties of stress that came with leadership. She finally felt normal, finally felt free.

A soft oof! exhaled from her lips as he pulled her into his chest, the sudden overwhelming warmth bidding away the cold that threatened to creep in. A soft giggle lingered on the edge of her surprised gasp, before settling into him, reveling in the feeling she'd tried for so long to push away. Everything felt right, now; everything felt whole. And their strange future was one Tinúviel had become content with.

She'd not known all the changes that would entail. All that would happen from this night.

Of all those strange words you've spoken, she croons, resting her cheek into the crook of his neck, That's the only one I remember.

Away from the Mire he is a different man. While it's not to say that he had changed in the eye of the public, too, here he feels... more free. Much like @Tinúviel is unburdened in their privacy he is unmasked, entirely at ease and unafraid of prying eyes that might cast judgement.

Here he is tender and gentle and affectionate, a foolish boy very much in love with his wife. He seems years younger in the shadows of the chasm with her against his chest, and the laugh that spills in the air is more freed than the norm.

"I will never let you forget them," he promises to her. A pause, for a second, and then -- "and I can teach you the rest, if you'd like." Alaric rather liked sharing his language, just as he made certain that each of his children knew the dialect as well as the common tongue.

He holds her there, against him, and releases a long, slow breath before he continues -- "I have named an Heir." Blurting out this little bit of information, having never truly mastered the small talk that filled so many conversations. There was something to say and so he said it, and then waited to see how she received that small piece.

For so long she had felt as if she were overwhelmed by it all; medicines, leading, politics. Her introduction to the warring political landscape of Amaryllis had blindsided her, and she still felt as if she'd not quite carried the same decorum as her counterparts, as if @Alaric and Tiamat held the world in her paws and she could only watch from afar. Even the ever-shifting tides of her own pride's allies and enemies felt lost on her the moment she'd taken time for herself, and each and every waking moment that was not dedicated to the Lagoon was wasted. Even this haven she felt, here and alone with him, felt sinful away from her home.

She'd no true idea what lay in wait for them both.

And as his news came, Tinúviel was not quite sure how she felt. For so long had they lasted in this strange stasis that she had grown accustomed to its way of life. To know he'd named an Heir beyond Luther caused a nervousness to linger deep inside of her, fearful that another would rise to take his machinating son's place but knowing he would likely not let history be repeated. She swallowed hard, the easy-going tenor of their joyful pillow talk suddenly darkening. I see, she says, wondering who it was, if she had met them before. Were it her own children, at least she could have known what to expect; but longer had Tinúviel grown content with the idea it would only ever just be them.

Who is it?

he can almost taste the acrid fear in the air, much as she might try to smother it. a paw moves to rub gently up and down her shoulder, a touch meant to be reassuring, to earn back the trust he had only barely gained. assuming he had gained any at all.

"my second born, bruno. he is... nothing like his brother." this was saying a lot without saying much at all, but it is the first thing meant to calm whatever nervousness she might be feeling. "he is smarter," and while luther did not lack intelligence he was too impulsive and reactive, a feeling alaric knew well, "and more committed." for too long alaric had turned a blind eye to luther's harsh edges, and while the moves he made now would inevitably bring trouble he felt confident in the choices he had made.

"bruno has shown interest in learning, in listening to what i have to say without assuming he is the best fit for the job. i have been watching him closely." a soft squeeze as he adds -- "i think you'll like him."

@Tinúviel

His touch eases her, but only slightly. The paranoia that had only heightened with Luther's disappearance had her constantly looking over her shoulder, constantly caring for Wither's whereabouts and following the woman around whenever she'd not instructed other pridemates to do it for her. However suffocating she may have been toward the woman, it had come from a place of repeated history, of knowing the nature of men slighted by women far weaker and meeker than them. Tinúviel knew that, if Viridian were alive, he very well might have chased her to the ends of the earth, to not let her live to see a happiness she'd not deserved. Thankfully, it seemed, fate were doing the job for him.

She'd seen Bruno once or twice in her time in the Mire, and never had he made such an imposing presence as that of his brother. To hear him named @Alaric's heir eased her, but so to did it make her even more fearful. Were Luther to return and not find his spot empty, would it be she who had taken it all away from it that he set his sights on? Eventually, she relents, letting out the breath she'd not known she'd been holding.

She would no longer burden her husband with such silly fantasies.

I'm sure he'll do well, she smiled, relaxing into his hold. Alaric had ascertained the succession of his lineage, and would see the Mire into its next paws should nothing happen until then. But the question of what all came after lingered heavy in the air, and though Tinúviel was far younger than her husband, his age was written into his very skin, tiredness from leading for so long etched into his soul. Do you think he would...accept me?

Oh and if he could only read her mind! Alaric can practically hear her thinking and yet he bites back any pushiness that he feels, for no matter how he wants to press her for a response he knows it will do no good. He gives her time, instead, to sort out her thoughts and feelings, laying quietly beside her until she speaks.

Her acceptance gives him some relief, even though he is certain she has reservations. With a sense that comes from age he verbalizes the one fear he can imagine she has -- "he will. And we will both ensure that Luther knows his place when he shows his face again." And that would likely end in bloodshed, if not death, but he does not dare worry her with such talk.

"Accept you?" It is a question he cannot quite make sense of and so he seeks some clarification before he answers. It is hardly Bruno's place to accept or reject her, in his mind, but then again... there will be a day, soon, where he will wear the title of high sovereign.

However morbid the thought, she was suddenly thankful she were not in Erna's place. That she were not the mother of his children, the mother of Luther. She was thankful further still that she had not come into Luther's life early enough to be a motherly figure to him, but regretful of it all the same. All the time she'd spent raising her sister wive's cubs had endured long into her adulthood, hindered only by the fact it were not her job to raise Slaine's cubs, nor Aidoneus', nor Erna's. And as much as she rejoiced in the freedom of it, she also missed it, longed for it. And long had she hung in that stasis of half-regret that wondered if things would be different had she been more involved in her upbringing. Perhaps it is why she asked what she asked.

I am not his mother, she begins, a nervous energy lingering in her tone, He has no reason to show any like or loyalty to me. I...wouldn't be surprised if he despised me. She had stolen his father away from the Mire, had seen to the dismantling of his brother's entire legacy. She would be surprised if he didn't hold any form of resentment. Bruno's life extended far beyond the likes of Tinúviel, some strange Queen from some distant land. And yet, she wanted nothing more than to have @Alaric's kids like her; long had she accepted the fate that she would never have any of her own.

"Bruno," he begins, when she is done, continuing his gentle touches as he speaks, "is not like Luther. He respects me more than his brother ever did." It may seem unrelated to what she asked, self-centered, even, and so he presses on quickly so that he might get to the point.

"You may not be blood but you are family, @Tinúviel, and Bruno will respect that." His gaze shifts to the ceiling of the chasm, his own thoughts wandering, considering the events that had led to this moment. Weighing the experiences of his children, from the oldest to the ones barely half grown. "He adopted a cub when he was barely an adult -- he has far more compassion than his brother." It feels like an odd detail to give her, but he thinks that maybe it will be more important than he expects.

She had never met Bruno beyond those few times in passing during her short stay in the Mire. In fact, she had barely met any of Alaric's other children; Luther had been the only one, and though she'd known he'd fathered many throughout his years here, she'd realized all at once who achingly distant she had been from all of them. Even Slaine's newest litter reached elder cubhood, and Tinúviel had never laid eyes upon them. In @Alaric's perfect world, she wondered, would she have watched them grow up alongside each other? Would she not have helped raised them, become their mother as she was never destined to bare her own?

She wasn't sure if the thought was comforting, or disheartening.

Back then, she'd no desire for children of her own; she'd snuck herbs into her meals, avoided falling pregnant by Viridian every way she could. She found small joys in her sisterwives then, because she had never wanted her own. But now...now things were different, and Tinúviel had no way of knowing if it would hurt her more than it helped. But Bruno was far older, a man now himself, his position in life vastly different. I want respect to be earned, she says finally, solemnly, I don't expect him to like me simply because I am your wife, simply because he has to.

Her meeting with Bruno would not simply be one-sided. The healer-Queen had something she had to prove, too.