tembovu

She is still, so still, beneath his mouth and neck. Too still. Ears tilt back, pressing against his skull as he reluctantly (unwillingly, body and mind protesting) begins to lift his neck away from her cool, satin skin. Her stillness is a sign, nonverbal communication that his touch isn’t needed, isn’t wanted— and it shouldn’t be. He is not good or right for his enduring, beautiful, Icebound Queen. Loneliness, sharp and painful, pierces the warmth that had built in his chest, shame and guilt being to rush—

Suddenly her muzzle is reaching, the velvet skin brushing against his barrel— and it is all the King needs. The shadows recede, pushed away by the newly swelling warmth in him. Black-rimmed ears flick forwards to catch her simple words: don’t ask. The stallion in him swells, relieved at feeling this, at feeling Elsa’s willing warmth against his skin. This heat is welcome, so unlike the cold burn of humiliation and self-contempt. His neck comes back across her back, mouth back at her the juncture of haunch and spine, teeth unleashed and pressing, pulling, tasting. A low rumble reverberated from his throat.

But Elsa is moving, soft pale skin slipping to the side, clearing his path. An ear flicked sideways, thick neck arching to catch sight of her face, his own exhaustion forgotten at the vulnerability written so plainly in the guileless blue eyes and pink-tinted muzzle. Slowly, gently, his broad black muzzle lips the side of hers, before drifting up to her left eye and tracing the scar there.

His mapping of her skin continued, thick lips going beyond her eye to the base of her ear, then down her throat and neck. His muzzle skimmed over the top of her folded wing, grabbing a few satin feathers between his lips and gently tugging on his course to her haunches. She was so soft, so exposed, so honest— it roused him beyond the allure of her flesh.

Though, as the ache grew beneath his barrel, he knew her skin, scent, and beauty did rouse him. His chest paused as it came abreast with her haunches, muzzle stopping its explorations at her tail-base. An ear flicked towards her head, navy eyes slowly leaving the pearly blue skin to look towards her face as well. “Elsa?” There was a new depth to his rumbling question, asking for permission, for desire.

The Elephant King waited beside his Queen, heat and yearning rolling off of his massive body in waves.