.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
Nature's great masterpiece : an elephant ; the only harmless great thing.
Elsa struggled against his embrace, as he had predicted (but had hoped she would not). He grunted softly as his spar-battered body strained to keep the battle-savvy Queen against his chest. And, with little more struggle, she suddenly collapsed against him, wetness as icicles against her pale cheeks. On the battlefield, she was a fierce force, but here… Here in this embrace, she was a hurt woman broken by the abandonment of all that she held close to her heart.
He acquiesced to her broken request, falling silent as the slow rhythm of his breaths unconsciously tried to soothe her tear-fragmented breathing. His great heart, stung by the tears that fell in the face of such a simple kindness, beat powerfully and slowly where her silken coat pressed against his coarse hide.
The silence lasted, a false calm falling over the two monarchs.
And then, he felt her breathing accelerate, panicked words rushing from her lips— the flood trying to replace the distance between them that he felt he had just diminished, with weak laughs and off jokes. An ear slanted sideways, as she carefully dried her eyes against his shoulder. He didn’t mind— what he did mind was the substance beneath her joke, for isn’t the root of all humor found in truth?
Was she truly intending to leave the Edge— to leave him? Alone to rule, alone in his solitude of regency. At first, he had accepted the Kingship alone, for Torliek had been a King only in name. But now that he had a Queen alongside him… the loneliness that threatened sounded like purgatory to the Elephant.
But, quietly, he retuned her joking words in kind, “I think my chest works better for drying tears, my Queen.” But there was a sadness, a new melancholy to his voice, as his eyes closed for a moment against the dejection. “And I guess, in a few days, I will need to challenge you again.” If that’s what it takes to make you stay. And gently, without much thought (or perhaps too much of it), he reached to lip the skin at her withers.
He acquiesced to her broken request, falling silent as the slow rhythm of his breaths unconsciously tried to soothe her tear-fragmented breathing. His great heart, stung by the tears that fell in the face of such a simple kindness, beat powerfully and slowly where her silken coat pressed against his coarse hide.
The silence lasted, a false calm falling over the two monarchs.
And then, he felt her breathing accelerate, panicked words rushing from her lips— the flood trying to replace the distance between them that he felt he had just diminished, with weak laughs and off jokes. An ear slanted sideways, as she carefully dried her eyes against his shoulder. He didn’t mind— what he did mind was the substance beneath her joke, for isn’t the root of all humor found in truth?
Was she truly intending to leave the Edge— to leave him? Alone to rule, alone in his solitude of regency. At first, he had accepted the Kingship alone, for Torliek had been a King only in name. But now that he had a Queen alongside him… the loneliness that threatened sounded like purgatory to the Elephant.
But, quietly, he retuned her joking words in kind, “I think my chest works better for drying tears, my Queen.” But there was a sadness, a new melancholy to his voice, as his eyes closed for a moment against the dejection. “And I guess, in a few days, I will need to challenge you again.” If that’s what it takes to make you stay. And gently, without much thought (or perhaps too much of it), he reached to lip the skin at her withers.
Tembovu
@Elsa sad Tembo :[
Please tag Tembovu.
