Patchouli would accept the silence during their journey as a comfortable one, which was an improvement for her. Usually, she assumed she had done something wrong or that someone was angry at her if they didn't say anything, regardless if they were carrying something in their mouths or not. She would never feel completely relaxed around this lion, not so long as he wore a crown on his head, but it was a small step in whatever their relationship was meant to be.

@Alaric would examine the nest upon arrival, Patchouli eagerly awaiting his review and finding a swelling in her chest as he seemed to approve. Telling her that her work was well done would always be what brought her the most pleasure. It would give her the drive to continue working on her given tasks. Of course, things couldn't go in her favor for too long. An errant question about the other nest that was her own. She might have preferred he scold her again for not taking better care of herself first. "Cubs?" A singular word yet her voice would crack. "I.. didn't think to make one for cubs sir. Would you like me to make one for you?" She would inhale sharply, face burning with embarrassment as she fumbled to correct herself. "A nest.. for cubs I mean, if you want to bring cubs here."

She would look towards the cave entrance then as if plotting her escape route. "I should bring everything inside before it rains." She told him, the beginnings of rain already sprinkling the ground. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately at this moment, it would only take her stepping outside a couple of times to bring everything inside and set it next to the nest he had asked about, forgetting that she hadn't actually told him what it was for.

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he found some perverse pleasure in the way she flushed and stammered, embarrassed and shy and so daintily feminine. @Patchouli is the exact opposite of erna, whom he imagined would have responded by seeking to seduce and bed the king right then and there. or bending before him, as she knew well how to do.

he cannot help it -- he takes this new toy and plays with it, callous and unaware that he might so very easily break her. "only if they are yours," he rumbled back at her, a smirk across his lips as he tossed her an almost playful wink.

then, as if he had merely commented on the weather, he moved to gather some of her things and carry them inside. he sets them just within the den before he finally looks back to her, having all but ignored her since he dropped the last bomb on the poor girl. "if not for cubs, then what for?" because he would not so easily forget that she had not answered him, in the end.

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Patchouli might have been alarmed by his suggestive words had the thought not already be mulling around in her head the last couple of days. Vio had given her this idea, yet she had dismissed it quickly as it made no sense to her. She would go still when he said it though, but she again stubbornly refused to believe it was something he might want. He was teasing her to provoke a reaction, amused at her stumblings. Testing her abilities as a servant to keep a level head under pressure. You jest highness. She said softly, tone mildly humored.

She would watch him move off to help with the items she had collected, giving her no excuse or way to keep herself busy while coping with her embarrassment. Again he would question, and she would have a sudden impulse to lie, as if anticipating her answer might displease him. It... Is for me sir. I haven't completed it yet. I would not wish to intrude should you ever desire the nest to yourself or any you might wish to share it with. It was mostly true, though the part about it not being finished wasn't.

At this she would stare at the floor, listening to the rain outside. If you wish to stay, I could groom your mane if you wish, or leave you to relax in silence. Anything to shift attention away from her and her mind and make it all about @Alaric would be preferable.

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it wasn't the fumbling response he had hoped for, and so the wheat king was not satisfied. he would have to toy a little more with this one, poke and prod at her boundaries and see if there were any cracks. alaric had long ago decided that he would win her over, even if he might leave her shattered when he grew bored again.

a frown furrowed his brow, though, when she mentioned it was for herself. "you will sleep there," he demanded, with a wave towards the more comfortable bed, "and the only one who will share it with me will be you." he would have his den with erna, and this one... this one he planned to share with the watercolor girl.

"why do you think i jest, patchouli? would you not want to have cubs with me?" he pouted a little, leaning in to the role of the boyish king that he believed would lure her in and make her more comfortable.

he moved, then, towards the nest she had made, and hefted his bulk on to it. with a grunt he flopped down, his eyes on her the entire time, curious how she might respond to his questions. "come," he murmured, and to soften the command a little, "the mud has been brutal for my mane." it was not what he really wanted, but one step at a time.

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Patchouli could only stare as he motioned towards the one she had built for him. She was used to being scolded for things, but she had never been in trouble for being submissive, for accepting her lesser role absent complaint. This had been twice now she had displeased him in one day. It upset her a great deal, though she would refrain from expressing it to him. He wouldn't have the patience to deal with her problems, rightly so given he was a king with much more important things to tend to.

@Alaric would ask why, thinking she didn't want cubs with him. The last thing she wanted was for him to come to a conclusion that she disliked him or thought him unworthy so she would respond immediately. You are a king, it would be a travesty for someone in my position to give you children. They wouldn't be worthy of you. They might not even have claws in which to defend you and your kingdom. She would lift a paw as she spoke of claws, as if to show him she lacked any. Words came out almost passionately, genuinely.

As he settled in the nest and called her to do as she offered, she would awkwardly step up on the soft furs and settle as well, heavily fatigued by the days work and rush of emotions she felt. To settle into a slow tedious job would likely settle her nerves, so she would focus on that alone.

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Alaric mulled over her words, surprised to see that she had no claws and ashamed he had not noticed before. “you were born that way?” it was, of course, a concern. To be without claws hardly made for an easy life, and he was curious enough to ask — “were others in your family the same?” was this a one off?

She followed him to the bed and he tumbled his approval, resting and allowing her to work whatever magic she could on the tangle of his thick mane. “I do not know what it was like where you came from, but in my home the king was the only one to have cubs in the pride. He would mate with all of the lionesses. Here it is different, true, but I have seen nothing that indicates a position would matter.” there was no hierarchy in his eyes, and even if there were.. “besides, if it did, I have the power to give you a higher position.” He wouldn’t, not yet when she had not earned one, but it was a notion he put out there all the same.

“So tell me, Patchouli, do you want cubs?” He did not mean here and now (though Alaric would never complain, but he was interested all the same. Plus, he still wanted to make her squirm…

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@Alaric was curious about her past life, a subject that held little joy for her, nor one she had a desire to recollect. It had been easier for her, having been given her role and raised to know what was expected, but it wasn't a happy place. Those like me where bred for a specific purpose sir. The kings had their wives, we never become wives, we were there to entertain, to groom and to give the males an escape from their duties. Those of high rank and power would keep the most beautiful of us for themselves, to show off to others their importance to the pride. I do not know my father, but he was likely a son to one of the females raised as I was, like my mother was. She tried her best to explain.

It would seem he had come from a place quite different from hers, under kings who took multiple wives instead of only one, while perhaps also having mistresses on the side. Loyalty to one, turned on its head. This must be Alaric's thought process as well then?

He would interrupt her grooming as he asked a question she didn't think she could answer. Thoughts of how her mother, small and frail like her, struggling to have them. It was frightening to think that having cubs might potentially cause her great harm, or worse, it could be her end. It was upsetting to think she would then be leaving behind weak children, who the violent lions of this place would feel only disdain for, without a mother. I don't know sir.. I have given it no thought before now, I never imagined I would have any of my own. She admitted. She was glad her face was hidden in the length of mane, she didn't want him to see her upset.

image by moogle/code by saph

@Patchouli didn’t answer his question and that rankled the wheat king. He said nothing of it but ground his teeth together, barely restraining the urge to lash out and demand she tell him everything. Alaric was not a patient creature and while he enjoyed this game, this cat and mouse pursuit, he was equally irritated by the kid gloves he was forced to wear. A subtle tension coursed through his much larger frame, but still he does not comment.

“It is a strange place you come from,” he finally grumped, considering all that she had told him. “did you never wish to be more than just a pretty face?” he turned his head just slightly to look at her, to appraise this beauty she was apparently bred for. Patchouli was a soft and delicate creature and he cannot help but desire the femininity she offers simply by existing. Alaric preferred his wives to know their place, to bend before him and remember that he was in charge. This soft creature, he mused, would never question him.

“You are fit for a King, Patch,” his voice is softer, huskier, his gaze roaming freely over her smaller features. He would have her, he decided, and enjoy the contrast between his fierce warrior wife and the softness of this girl.

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Had she not answered him? In her state of exhaustion, which had been only physical before Alaric showed up today and added a mental component to it, she was struggling to even think. In a way she had, meaning that her herself and her mother had been born without them through a selective process. No doubt whoever had children with her grandmother was lacking them. Alaric might be better given direct answers to questions though, considering fleeting change in him that she might easily mistake or miss in its fleeting moment.

Did she not wish for something more? She couldn't say she was unhappy with her lot in life. Having been born into such a role, she didn't know anything else. If she had ever known love or compassion, she might feel this wasn't enough for her, but she had never known those things. My only desire is to live a quiet and peaceful life. I am.. contented with the one I have led so far. She told him, unable to say she was happy with it, that perhaps went a little too far.

Mostly she wished Alaric would stop this, not because she didn't like him or want to be around him, as he was kind to her and made her feel protected, but because she feared disappointing him. There was also a deeper fear, not of being a mother, but giving birth to children. What was she suppose to say to a statement like that? She strongly disagreed, but to say so meant she was potentially angering him. She could not say she understood, that would be a lie. In the end, she would just feel a shiver run the length of her body.

She would still herself after a moment, trying to grasp at anything that might appease him. I will.. do my best to perceive myself the way you wish me to, Majesty. I am honored to be regarded so highly. Fit for a king.. he would have to forgive her if she took it as a mere conclusive statement and not as him suggesting he was speaking of himself and his wish to take her as a mate. Patchouli was oblivious to any and all forms of flirtation. He could serenade her, sing of his love and she would only think he was demonstrating his singing voice to her.

@Alaric

image by moogle/code by saph

He wondered if they were bred only to look at and not to touch. Were they meant to groom and tidy and clean and never to enjoy more freely? There seemed to be a painful naivety in the girl, and he realized he would have to be more obvious.

"I will give you a quiet life," he told her, even if he knew it might be a lie. There was war brewing in Amaryllis, and Alaric had more than a few enemies. "I will keep you safe." Would she noticed that he specified that he would be the one to do these things? Did she hear the possession in his voice?

@Patchouli danced around what he was trying to say and he wondered if it was a game, or if she truly did not grasp what he meant. "You are fit for me, Patchouli. I want you to be mine." Would she deny him? He watched her even now, his gaze refusing to stray from her soft features, curious how she would take his boldness, now.

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