no church
in the wild

Nyaxia does not step foot near Andal Oasis without good reason. One would think her husband is reason enough, but Nyaxia is.. uncomfortable being there with the knowledge that Brighid could be nearby. It feels like the Arctic queen’s eyes are on her at all times; and if nothing else, Brighid has burrowed deep beneath Nyaxia's skin. She doesn't know how the two will ever see eye to eye or if peace is even an option, but she knows well enough that the lioness isn't going anywhere. There are few lions in Harou's life as woven into his being as Brighid, and who is she to come between that? Raging jealousy aside, it isn't something Nyaxia can simply bring up in casual conversation and not expect blowback. Harou is likely to be defensive of her and now the Amazon is faced with a painful choice: does she stay silent or does she advocate for peace?

Brighid isn't the reason Nyaxia has come today, however. There is something far more heavy and life changing she must discuss with the desert king, preferably out of earshot of the rest of the pride. Nyaxia simply can't shake the fear she has of the oasis hounds, and so she calls to him softly from over the borders. Her toes drum along the sands anxiously as she watches, looking for a flash of white fur against the sands. Perhaps she's reading too far into everything. Maybe Brighid is already over it.

But as Nyaxia scratches idly at the scabbed lacerations under her jawline, she has to wonder if that is perhaps the fucking thing she's ever thought.

TO WATCH YOU CRAWL OUT OF YOUR CHANGING SHAPE

he knows her scent from anywhere.

moonlight dances upon his athletic frame, the autumn breeze twisting through the silken layers of his fur, stirring the fibers of his winter coat. the season had gotten colder, and he relishes this feeling upon his skin, the brumal kiss of almost-winter sliding through the universe, and settling upon his flesh.

long, sweeping strides take the winter titan over the dunes, closer towards @Nyaxia. there, standing in the moonlight, she is a beacon of hope and light. a different air hung about her, tonight, however, and harou can almost taste her hesitation. silver descends her slender body, highlighting the vice-like patterns around the curve of her neck, and that's when he sees it first - the crimson grooves that had etched unto her lilac skin.

his features immediately darken with concern. her pain is his pain.

a hand shifting over her cheek, caressing affectionately, possessively. "who did this?" it's a low, threatening growl that escapes his lips as with the other free hand he gently pushes back a stray lock of lilac curls from covering her face. he tries to remain calm, but his wrath evident as his angular features would twist with the yearning for vengence. he needed a name, he needed a face.

no church
in the wild

There is nothing as deadly as uncertainty. The weight of everything that has happened in the past few weeks is unbearable and now, thrust deeper into the unfurling chaos, Nyaxia is at her breaking point. She loves her husband. She would be lost without him. But oh, how simpler life would be if she had never laid eyes upon him! She would be out basking in the afternoon sun instead of meekly knocking on her husband's door, eyes jumping from place to place at every subtle shift of the sands in the breeze. There is no denying that should another fight arise, Nyaxia will retaliate. She had lay there and taken it the first time, turned the other cheek because she understood there was immeasurable amounts of pain pumping through her veins. Nyaxia had understood, but now it is no longer only her at risk. She doesn't know how many cubs are growing within her, doesn't know how she would even begin to guess; Nya only knows that one is enough for her to burn the entire world. Although she is far from ready to be a mother, she is more than ready to be a protector.

His shadow breaks over the dunes and Nyaxia stands at attention. Her smile is thin but present as he comes to greet her, dripping with the affection she has learned to crave – and more than that, the affection she knows she deserves. Why you? the voice echoes, and Nyaxia can only ever reply: why not? Why not her? She deserves this. All of this.

It doesn't entirely surprise her that he's noticed her wounds, but it does surprise her that she hesitates. Her mouth feels full of cotton and her tongue feels like a flopping fish, useless and unable to form anything that might somehow absolve the past of its truth. It should be easy to throw the truth onto the ground at his feet, but it isn't. Nyaxia doesn't want to see any harm come to the pallid lioness and she doesn't want blood on her hands, metaphorically or otherwise. Yet she cannot lie to her husband and claim it is someone else because it's clear in her hesitation and the way her mouth falls open and closed that she doesn't want to voice it. Nyaxia has already stirred suspicion, she knows this.

“I'm pregnant,” is what she finally blurts out instead, weaponizing the budding life within her to spare Brighid the executioner's axe.

TO WATCH YOU CRAWL OUT OF YOUR CHANGING SHAPE

the winter leviathan presses her for answers, but the answers do not come. instead, she presents him with a heavy prospect - immediately taking his mind away from anything else, as she confirms that she is carrying his cubs. i'm pregnant, she says; as if dropping a hot iron upon his head, arresting him, momentarily. a wave of shock would first wash through him, as he is finally rendered speechless. it is soon followed by an immediate wave of awe, as the happiness brightens his angular features; the darkness of his lips pulling upward into an involuntary smile - soaking up the beautiful idea of her becoming the mother of his children.

he can already imagine her belly swollen with life; her hips becoming softer, fuller; and something in him switched, then. it's primal, male and instinctive, and he has every need now - more than ever - to protect her and their unborn children. it's what he wants most - he hopes she wants it, too. harou is beside himself with elation, feeling the brightness of joy spike their warmth into his frozen chest. for all the chaos surrounding andal, this is the first real news that he would fully embrace. while he's been given children from both brighid and helah, this time around somehow, it feels different; sweeter. he would stare at her for awhile, resisting the urge to drop his jaw, holding her celestial gaze with his crimson red, a bright beaming glow radiating from his winter features.

"really?" he would almost stutter, as if at first confused, before he leans into her smaller figure. he tries to outwardly remain calm, but the sliver of anxiety would eat at his emotions, too. the idea that he now had more souls to protect in an already very violent world. his weight shifts evenly across all four massive paws, the strength of his physique pressing into her, caressing gently as he pulls her into a loving embrace.

"i love you, nyaxia." he would say, affectionately, kissing her softly upon the lips; finding her belly with an open, seeking palm to gently caress the life that grew within her womb, too. he would protect them with his life. nyaxia. their children. he would seek to give them everything. even so, despite the happiness he immediately wore, a dark feeling would still cross over harou's features. nyaxia still didn't tell him who scarred her up, who had wounded her neck, and for this alone, harou cannot remain one-hundred percent happy. "now tell me who did that." like a brutal dog unwilling to let go, harou latches unto the idea of ripping apart her attacker. he needed to know, otherwise he'll never feel at rest. it was his duty to protect her, to protect them.

no church
in the wild

A moment such as this should be remembered fondly, with exciting cheers and shared joy. She should be able to look back and laugh at how nervous she was to tell him. She should be feeling something other than extreme dread; happiness would certainly be a good start. There should be so many other things coursing through her body than the sheer terror of a woman not expecting the consequences of her actions, but she is a naive fool and her luck can only last for so long. It's stupid. It's all stupid. Nyaxia, a mother? The children are doomed! It takes all of her willpower not to simply burst into tears and beat her fists on the ground in fear. She knows nothing about motherhood! Nothing! What is she supposed to do now? Harou will certainly be displeased given the volatile nature of the political climate. This is terrible, awful!

His lips meet hers and she is taken aback, eyes widening in surprise. Nyaxia doesn't know if she misconstrues the look in his eyes for something she hopes to see or if he is genuinely ecstatic, but it's enough to make her pause. She blinks up at him, thick lashes sweeping away any hint of tears as he reassures her that he loves her. “You're.. happy?” she replies quietly, cocking her head to the side and meeting his gaze as if she could peer into his eyes and uncover his deceit. There is none to be found (that she can see, anyway) and Nyaxia swallows. “I'm scared.” She hangs her head almost sheepishly, cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the admission.

And just when she thinks she's gotten away from the conversation about her wounds, he draws her closer and prods the subject again. Nyaxia’s body grows rigid with discomfort, and she knows this has nothing to do with pregnancy; this is simply a woman afraid to tell her husband the truth. Because the truth will hurt him, she knows, and Nyaxia does not want to be the cause of his pain.

Still, she cannot keep it from him forever.

“Brighid,” she mumbles, ears wilting against her head as she looks down to her paws. Her lips twist into a pensive frown as she sucks in a breath. “I happened across her when I was looking for you. I thought the two of us could team up together, cover more ground. She cupped my chin like this,” she says, miming the action on her husband's strong jaw. “She asked if I loved you. I.. was cruel to her when I said yes, then informed her you were my mate. She didn't.. take that news well.” Nyaxia's tail flicks behind her in agitation, a hive of bees buzzing noisily in her head. “She didn't do much, it's okay. She's hurting.” the lioness shifts, offering an awkward smile. See? All good.

TO WATCH YOU CRAWL OUT OF YOUR CHANGING SHAPE

her voice and gestures were marked by hesitation - fear. he can see the sheen in her gaze, the way the corners of her eyes would seem to water. he studies the shadows that slide over her tense stare, the crescent curve of her long eyelashes flicking outward in their graceful lines. he didn't like seeing her like this, on the verge of brokeness. he preferred her happiness, her radiance. but every emotion would have their turn to rise, and if she was feeling sad, he would do his best to comfort her. let her live in those emotions, let her express them openly, in order to purge and heal them.

internally, he wonders if he would share those same emotions, aswell, those feelings of anxiety and fear; but even if he did, even a sliver of it - he would not outwardly show it. he needed to stay strong for nyaxia - for their unborn children. and at the end of the day, harou would see this as nothing more than a great blessing. "do not be afraid. you will be a great mother. i have no doubt about that." he would take her hand in his own, he would kiss the back of those lithe knuckles, affectionately, smoothing his lips over her skin in a way that was soft and tender. all his tenderness is reserved for @Nyaxia. for her alone would he show this sort of love, this kind of surrender.

"i trust you with my heart." he breathes those comforting words against her once more, hoping to soothe her worries, hoping that in the end everything will be fine and she will take to the role well. the last thing they needed was to life of paranoia, a life of fear. "no matter what happens, i'll be with you every step of the way. i will never abandon you." he is tempted to kiss her again, to seal their lips by that promise, but he holds back long enough to hear her utter the next few sentences. and he's not prepared for them, he's not prepared for what she is about to say.

"what? brighid?! no. it can't be." the warmth in his voice fades, tapers suddenly into the sharp edges of violence and hunger. his voice feels like a knife cutting across flesh. he's half confused, half bewildered, but perhaps, this too was all his fault; perhaps he is a man cursed. all of a sudden, he feels it; that surge of wrath and confusion, both. the bitterness seeps through his tone of voice, and his gaze darkens with vengence. brighid is another woman that holds importance in harou's heart, but what she did is almost unforgivable, and he can feel his emotions freezing over once more, threatening to envelope him in their icy fury. he tries to temper his wrath, however, tries to remain calm for nyaxia, even if he can feel all that tension rushing within him at once, snarling to be freed.

"i don't care if she's hurting, no one gets to lay their hand on you. if i find her, i'll speak to her. she will not touch you again." it's another promise, one that he's adamant on keeping - every promise he makes for nyaxia, he intends to keep until his last dying breath. even if he has to hunt brighid down and track her through the forests of amaryllis, he will make that message clear that noboby fucks with his woman. that aside, harou feels emotionally wrecked lately, and he would seek to bring his mate somewhere where they are likely to remain hidden, undisturbed, safe. he brings a comforting hand down her back, finally resting his fingers across her hips, pulling her closer.

"let's retire to my den. you need rest, nyaxia, and so do i."

no church
in the wild

Motherhood. It is the most frightening thing she has ever thought about, and worse because she's never genuinely thought about it before it was reality. There is no turning back now; she cannot undo what has been done. And even if she could, she doesn't think she would. There's something to be said about her willingness to carry children if they are his and the way it somehow overrides her fear of being a terrible parent. Harou does his best to soothe her by offering reassurance that she can only smile weakly at. It does very little to genuinely assuage her concerns, but she knows there isn't much that will. Still, she is grateful he even tries.

“I believe you,” she finally replies. Nyaxia has never believed in something - someone - quite as much as she believes in him now. Ah, well, mostly. She also recalls a few weeks when she thought the man was dead only to learn he had thrown himself into a death match without much concern for anything else. Nyaxia opens her mouth to speak and then promptly clamps it shut, choosing peace over being painfully correct. In her mind, anyway. Perhaps there were others who would think her a fool, but Nyaxia is determined to hold him true to his word. He would not be leaving her alone - with or without cubs. She would kill him if he ever died.

The news about Brighid goes as well as fears. Nyaxia wants to melt into the floor and disappear, letting the world swallow her whole. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let it get that far.” It's a hollow apology, she's surprised to realize. “But she shouldn't have started it.” Because Nyaxia is deserving of his love whether the ice queen believes it or not, and she feels a surge of protectiveness over what she now considers her own. “She looked at me with such disgust and asked ‘why you?’ like I wasn't worth the dirt she stood on.” The huntress huffs, listening as he promises that she is safe — from everyone and everything.

The next thing she knows, he's ushering her towards the royal den. “That's actually– I wanted to talk to you. About coming to live with you. I don't want to keep the cubs in the jungle, alone. They deserve to live with their father. And, ah, maybe I want to wake up next to you every morning.” She adds the last piece casually, almost as an afterthought. Nyaxia doesn't meet his gaze because she's trying to hard to look aloof, but anyone who knows the feral woman will know what she is suggesting is one of the most difficult things she has ever suggested.

i'll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor
your morgue and final resting—


his carmine gaze never leaves her form, hooked in by her unparalleled beauty;
for harou, she is a seraphim incarnate, a violent angel - a harbinger of retribution.

as she carries new life within her womb, feelings of awe and euphoria would accentuate his rugged features. the titan can feel the warmth of his blood smoothing across his body, filling him with phantom fire. lately, he has been sitting in his emotions, and harou decides he dislikes this overall feeling. for a man so cold and withdrawn, expressing emotions freely were not his strong suit, especially when he prefers the wrath of a winter storm.

but @Nyaxia taught him how to heal the spaces in his heart, to free the darkness of its hunger and violence, and release them with the light. even so, all these emotions lay within him; all this ravenous volatility surging through his flesh, aches to be freed, now. sometimes, he wonders if he's slowly going insane, if he's merely hallucinating the figment of nyaxia in his head. but, perhaps they all were slowly going insane - that these lands were wretched, cursed. deep down he knew that, that life would be as intertwined with death. her news alone, however, would bring bliss and contentment to his features, as he settles upon the realization that he would be a father again.

he ignores that dark, twisted feeling in the back of his mind that things might go terrible, that things would fall apart. he hides his involuntary thoughts beneath a calm, stern facade, blending into the role of guardian, easily, as he shrouds her smaller figure with his larger own. his hand continues to settle across her slender hips, as he pulls her closer, draws her in tighter. as always, there is a need to protect her, to guard her, to keep her away from the wretched ambitions of the craven world. apart from the fury of secret emotions brewing with him, there was something incredibly alluring about the idea of your wife carrying your children.

he never felt more love for a woman before, more intimacy, more affection. it felt raw, it felt brutal - something both violent and beautiful, in the knowing that he had put newfound life within her. knowing that together they would bring forth a new generation, one that combined the beauty and wrath of both their parents.

strong arms find her in an embrace, as he listens to her words and gives her a gentle 'sshh'. he is tired with words, now, and he wants to relax and slip into the comforts of a fur-lined bed. the bitter topic of brighid eventually fades to one of her residing within andal, and, while that had its complications, he couldn't agree more. he wanted nyaxia beside him always - he wanted to wake up to her beautiful face; to brush his fingertips down her slender spine and count the fleckles down her backside. he was tired of hiding her away, tired of forcing her to live a life within the shadows.

"then stay tonight, tomorrow. forever." for always. "for long as andal stands, and i remain its king, you will have a home here with me." he would have made her a sovereign, then - right here, right now. but things were terribly terribly complicated. the guilt would silently gnaw at his core, but he keeps this promise a secret, he keeps this one in silence. "let me take care of you, nyaxia." he breathes again, a soft smile curling his lips. he reaches for her wrist, gentle in his intent, wishing to tug her along towards the royal chambers; his and her bed. where warm sheets awaited them, spiced tea, the comforts of a bath, and the dusky lights of a desert night-sky lit in a million stars.

he would have liked to carry her into bed, ofcourse.

throw her down, religiously.

but we all know how nyaxia is extremely independent.

no church
in the wild

There is more that needs to be said between them. Despite his best efforts to protect her and their future children, Nyaxia knows there is only so much a single man can do against a lover scorned. She wants to voice her worries if only for him to reassure her, but it feels unfairly burdensome to solely saddle him with that responsibility. And what of Brighid's children? Will they accept her as anything other than the other (other) woman, some harlot? Worse yet, will they sneer judgmentally at their father? Nyaxia doesn't want to be the reason a family falls apart. She doesn't know if she would be able to handle watching as brothers and sisters, sons and daughters are all turned against their leader all because of her. All because of her. Jealousy is an ugly thing. She can only hope her children are spared. She will do whatever it takes to ensure her children are spared. If it means letting Brighid slit her throat, she will make the sacrifice so her cubs could live. That is what makes a mother a mother, and she has no purpose in life as important as this now.

Harou is fortunate the huntress is too preoccupied to respond to his gentle shushing with anything other than an annoyed, pointed look. Nyaxia is not one who has ever responded well to having her voice quieted, let alone by a man; but she lets him have this if for no other reason than to show she is willing to listen. Sometimes.

She allows him to guide her back to his den, somewhere she has visited time and time again to the point where she could find it blind. He whispers promises of tomorrow and forever, all enticing and agreeable to her own whims. Forever is an awfully long time, she muses silently, but supposes there is not another soul on the planet who would be able to bind her in such a way. Nyaxia is well and truly chained to the desert king, though her shackles are kisses and sweet nothings and worship. No other man could do enough – be enough – to warrant her unfaltering devotion. She wonders if he knows how lucky he is to have tamed the huntress to the degree he has, or if he knows how quickly she will snap the chains if things go awry.

She decides it's a conversation best left for another time.

“I will stay,” is all she finally murmurs before lifting a paw to gently rest against his lips. “Shh.” Nyaxia winks at him before she presses forward, moving into the darkness of his den with a come-hither flick of her tail beneath his chin.

exit