He walked away from the naked mare, legs heavily sinking into the earth of these new lands as exhaustion from battle sank into his frame. A wound on his withers bled sluggishly. Pink new skin itched around its edges, but the goddess’s magic had not quite sunk all the way into the bite wound, and the center was still raw flesh.

As the dark blood slowly dribbled down his massive shoulders, his deep blue eyes swept the carnage, to and fro. His buckskin coat still glows softly from the moon’s magical healing, but he pays it no mind. All are glowing and bleeding around him.

All but Rexanna. Curse that woman, why is she always so hard to find?! Frustration and fear cause his brow to crease, for the smell of his own burnt flesh had brought back flashes of memories. Memories he had worked so hard to bury- and had succeeded (mostly).

He knew what charred golden skin looked like. He knew how it cracked and softly gave beneath his muzzle. How dead flesh could be so warm-so hot. A unconscious shudder travelled over his coat as he continued to search, not allowing his eyes to blink. For he did not want to see the images that were waiting for him beneath his eyelids.

“Rexanna?!” his voice was hoarse from smoke and flame, so it did not carry as well or a deeply as it normally did. Still, he walked, further from the carnage now, nearly entering the maze.

She was there. Gleaming and golden and thankfully, beautifully there. Alive. He reached out his broad muzzle to meet her outstretched dainty one. Plush velveteen maws pushing against each other momentarily before he slid his past hers, running it along the side of her face, down her neck, across her chest, shoulders, back, barrel, flank, haunches. Checking for blood, for injuries, for burns. Reassuring himself with touch and scent that she was there, that she was real.

Satisfied that she was whole, there, and uninjured, he took a half step away from her (though still close enough to touch her, for he wasn’t willing to be far from her) and listened to her speak. As she started to curse herself, a low bark of laughter escapes him, “My woman has a foul mouth on her, eh?” He takes the half step back to her, wanting to feel her warm, living flesh beneath his muzzle. Burying his lips in her mane, he speaks against her skin, “Love, look at me, I am fine. The goddess healed us after the battle— I’ve been worse off than this small bite. It’s half healed already,” his words mean to reassure her, even if they are an exaggeration.

But the relief of finding her unscathed fades as the reality of the battle resurfaces. Moving his mouth over the top of her neck, he hooks his jowls on her crest and roughly pulls her towards him, finally allowing his eyes to close has he holds her. Against his lids he sees scorched earth, still bodies—bodies too hot to sustain life, too burnt to be flesh.

A hiss of breath escapes him, memories hotly and rapidly pushing words out, “No, we shouldn’t have been there, Rex. You shouldn’t have been there. What were you thinking, stabbing a god?!” His booming voice is thick with both anger and fear.

He pauses, opening his agonized blue eyes, trying to stem the flood of images as he breathes in her coat, her scent. Usually it is calming, but now it only reminds him of what could have happened, what he could have lost… again. “Rexanna I-“ turmoil breaks off his words. He tries again, “I have already found the burnt body of one woman I loved… Do not make me do it again,” his words are quiet now, rumbling with emotion that he valiantly tries to keep beneath his thick hide—though he is failing miserably.

Her playful nip at his large cheek took the edge of his anger and fear away. He listens to her speak- feels her soft body lean against his hard chest- explaining her reasons for being there. As she speaks of protecting a foal, warmth stirs in his chest. So Rexanna felt protective over a foal? The elephant hadn’t been sure Rex cared for foals.

He hadn’t been sure about anything with the golden princess. He hadn’t been sure where he stood. How she felt about him. How he felt about her. They had been in limbo.

But battle is good for making uncertainties certain. It bathes the grey areas in blood, letting them dry black and white.

The fear he had felt when seeing her on the battlefield, so close to harm, had erased the censure her lies had created in his mind. Forgiven, perhaps, is an appropriate word, but not the right one. For it was an eradication of blame more than a forgiveness of guilt.

Regardless, he closed his eyes, leaning into her soft maw as she nuzzle him. “I’m glad to hear you care for foals, Rex,” he murmured against her skin offhandedly, in the pause between her words. His tone was easy, even if the meaning behind his words held weight. But the behemoth was too contented with their survival to allow much significant to sink into them, just yet.

His eyes slowly open as she apologizes, defeat starting to sink into her delicately proud frame. Though, despite the grief that was lacing though her voice as she states her upset at not being able to protect him, he feels happiness beginning to well up. For these were not the words of a mere friend (the word drips scornfully through his skull). These were the words, the actions, of a lover.

Battle is good for making uncertainties certain.

So the elephant took her words, her fear of loosing him, her embrace and caresses. He took them and allowed himself to place them in his chest, for safe keeping. And softly (surprisingly so for the thickness of his muzzle) he lipped away her long strands of ash and cream mane. Gently, his lips trace the delicate curve of her crest, withers to poll and back. A low hum of appreciation escapes him, for her skin is smooth and scent is… Rexanna.

He is partially testing the waters, partially reveling in his revelation. “It’s okay Rex,” he placates lightly on coat, wanting to soothe her. “It will take more than a god falling on me for you to lose me,” there is dark humor in his words, on many levels. For, indeed, if not for Mauja’s fire birds, the elephant could have been lost. And Rexanna, herself, nearly lost him after telling him the truth not long ago.

But he was still there, still will her, still clinging to each other in the wake of bloodshed. Suddenly an idea comes to him. A symbol, something to remind her of- of this. “My golden princess, I have something for you.”

one day we’ll reveal the truth,
that one will die before he gets there.

I felt him shift as I spoke of my past. To and fro almost unsure of what he should do. In the end, however, he did what I needed him to do the most. Love. His husky voice breathed my name and my ears perked in his direction, the feathery tips brushing against his pelt. As he spoke of not blaming myself I just nodded. I knew I had lied about never having children before, but it wasn’t entirely a lie. I had a child that didn’t even breathe. How was that for really birthing an offspring? It wasn’t. And it would take a lot for me to realize that it really wasn’t my fault. Deep down, I knew that I couldn’t do anything against it. However, perhaps if I hadn’t given into the pressure of his parents, we wouldn’t have ended up there in the first place? Maybe – just maybe – I wouldn’t have turned out the way I did.

I knew regret would bring me down a darkened path. And I was sure that Tembovu didn’t realize that I became the way I was to prevent myself from heading in that direction. It was such a complex issue with problems tearing at each edge, searing the corners in a fit of emotion that seemed almost unnatural. I didn’t cry. No. I couldn’t. I had already cried so many tears over him that no more needed to fall. I accepted the fact that I couldn’t care for him and so I moved on; or so I thought. Bringing it back up just flashed the memories back in front of my aqua eyes. Brought back only by Temb’s voice. Feeling his chest engulf me like a fire, I melted. As he spoke of thriving, I said nothing. Was I really thriving? Or playing off of other’s weaknesses? I was a coward, always had been. I couldn’t stand up for anything. And it showed when I chose the Basin over him which I knew was still salt in the wound I caused.

He spoke more, of feeling the loss and vengeance. I nodded to him, partially glad to finally have a name for his fallen family. However, revenge is a firestorm in itself. It’s a wonder he didn’t devolve and cripple himself in the process of losing something so close to him. He got his vengeance and perhaps it was enough – or was it? Ears twitching more as he stopped speaking abruptly, noticeably due to the blockage in his throat of emotion. A train of anger and rage quickly ended by a dam of tears and regret that I knew all too well. I could do nothing but to watch his broad face, eyes just as sad as his in the heat of this moment.

‘So, I think you are a much better being than I, for how you handled this… this indescribable loss.’

No. It wasn’t true. Did he not understand what I did? The things I did to others or did to myself because of it? Sure. I didn’t destroy cities and take anyone’s last breath from them. However, I did place my body as a way for others emotions. I laid it out and I was broken because of it. He didn’t understand. And would be ever? A flicker of frustration passed through my eyes as I turned my gaze away from his striking sapphire ones. Sighing to myself, trying not to let the anger that built up inside me explode on the one person I truly loved in my life. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. My attention was lost in mere moments before my chime of a voice erupted, speaking words I couldn’t withhold. I completely missed the point he had about being the thorn to his rose.

“Am I really a better person, Temb? I destroyed people’s happiness. In my moments of fear of losing my head, I chose to give up others? I’m a thief. I steal people’s happiness and joy away and watch with a fucking pit of excitement as they notice it’s gone. Nobody expects the woman in the white dress to steal their lifes work. I’m nothing to be proud of. I surely didn’t thrive. I chose to portray myself as someone else entirely to hide myself. When they brought the militaries into the lands I was in, I proved myself to be someone else. When they looked for me and my god forsaken markings that – let me add – literally no one else has, they found me. They always did. I couldn’t hide. Instead, I turned to sleeping with guards and the fucking military to keep them from taking me. Was it in my best interest? No. It wasn’t. But it protected me. I was selfish. I became someone I never thought I would. Growing up, I knew those mares and stallions that relied on others for their wellbeing despite caring for others and I always frowned upon them.”

Heaving a hefty sigh, I turned my head away from him; frustration glaring at each corner in my mind. ‘Why are you so upset?’ I thought to myself, shaking my head and shifting my weight. My tail lashing behind me in a fit of upset that seemed so childish in this moment. But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help but to get this feeling out of me before it destroyed me.

“I turned into them, Temb. I did it to you. The one fucking thing I care about and I did it to you. Telling you what you wanted to hear. And if there’s one thing I regret in my life, it’s what I did to you. But I’m nothing to be praised about. I’m nothing to be proud of. I’m just – nothing.” Defeat fell within my voice as my rampage dissipated nearly as quickly as it came. Shame shrouded me. What could I say now?

Then I felt that feeling in my throat, the blockage. Unable to speak anything for a while. Eyes closed, head lowered. Forelock covering my face in a messy tangle. I looked like a mess and I honestly felt like it. After a few moments, I blinked, eyes opening, blockage passed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to – I didn’t mean to freak out like that. I just… Haven’t ever told anyone. I don’t know what got into me. I wasn’t thinking. Please, I’m sorry.” Terror flashing into my voice, trembling and stuttering. Right when things were about to get better, I go and fuck it up again.

I was scared to look at him.

I was scared that he would just leave as quickly as he came.

But after the moments passed, I moved closer to him, pressing myself into him again. Hoping to show him the true passion behind my words as I felt his voice reach me. ‘So my golden princess. I give you this befitting golden chain.’ Attention was brought to him again. Fear and upset wilting away like a leaves during autumn. Watching as the chain fell to my feet. A small smile finding its way to the corners of my lips, hoping he wouldn’t pull the gift away from me with an afterthought of my outburst.

Then he attached it and the feeling of more chains dancing along my face and horn added more to my elegance. The elegance from my elephant. I wondered how he got the trinket and how long he had it before giving it to me. Before I thought about the gift I had him. I figured I would wait and see his reaction before giving him the gift I had found fitting for him. It would probably make for a good apology afterward.

I turned my head, feeling the shift of the small weight of my chains along my forehead, feeling ever more so at home than I had in so long. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean to burst out at you like that… You can take it back if you like, I’d understand.” My voice was hushed, darkened by the regret that flashed through my ocean eyes before my gaze fell to the feet of the elephant yet again.

'You are precious, you are loved.'

"Talk?"

one day we’ll reveal the truth,
that one will die before he gets there.

Feeling a shift in the air, I knew the things I had said began to trouble him. I tried to be patient with myself, but I quickly grew angry with my outbursts. This isn’t how I imagined it to go. I surely didn’t imagine me telling him about my past in such a rush – especially with him burned the way he was. Ears flickered with my frustrations, but perked to him when he spoke. “No. I want you to keep it.” Relief swallowed me and I shook my head a little, feeling the little pieces of golden chain dangle across my face. Now that was fit for a Queen.

Blue eyes danced with a slight twinkle of happiness as I gazed at him. However, it was quickly shifted with a slight amount of concern. His voice grew firm, nearly reprimanding me. Ears flickered back and forth with a hint of uncertainty with each word he said, as I waited with baited breath; knowing full well that the things he said weren’t meant to anger me, but to instead show me how much he did love me with the underlying tones and hints. As he spoke of his losses, he brought me into it. Showing me that I was definitely something to him. And that was really all I needed.

The compliments didn’t end there, however. Explaining to me that I wasn’t the people I regretted the most since I did it with concern for my wellbeing. I only nodded, staying silent the entire time. Enjoying the moment, regardless if his voice was fierce with a hint of anger and angst beneath him. Despite the words he said, I wondered what he had been thinking behind it all. Regardless, he approached me again, pressing into me so gently. His tough and rough skin against my porcelain smooth coat. Tan and Champagne mixing well within the light of the Labyrinth. I nodded to him, pressing my face against his as he wished. Feeling his massive head rub against my neck and it instantly pushed all my thoughts away.

I needed him.

And I knew then that he needed me.

I appreciated the movement, feeling his breath against my neck and side, speaking to me as his princess and I just nuzzled him back. A small smile on my face knowing he was alive and well and happy. I breathed in his own scent, smelling a mix of salt and mystifying curiosities that I was sure had to be from the Edge. I appreciated every moment and scent of him. I just loved him.

I just didn’t want to say it. Not yet.

Instead, I pressed into him again before pulling away gently. “Thank you, my elephant.” I smiled to him, a small humorous twinkle in my eye. “It means the world to me.” Pausing slightly, I reached around, feeling a small item intertwined in my mane that I had found while exploring that I knew was absolutely perfect for him. “Now, I say my elephant because I, too, have a gift for you.” I said calmly, though the humor dancing with my voice in the means of how we both ended up with a gift that fit each other.

Reaching for the item, I nipped at it, pulling it out of my mane ever so gently. I carried it in my lips gently as to not cut myself with it, before pulling my gold adorned head back to face him. Smiling, while also carrying a small trinket for him. A single lion’s claw. Something that would grace him in both power, loyalty, and kindness. Something I knew instantly was him.  Aqua eyes watching him with pure and innocent happiness.

"Talk?"

The tension left his shoulders and back as she nuzzled him. He felt her barrel move against the side of his cheek as she took in his own scent. He felt a primal pull in his loins as she pushed her soft flesh against his hard, burned body. And then— then she was pulling away from him?

He felt the loss of her warmth and satin comfort acutely, gaze snapping open in confusion. He had thought they were moving closer towards each other, not putting space between them. He wanted her body very close to his, in the current moment. Eyes, dark blue with desire and feeling, study her humorous smile— and he cannot help his own, nonplussed smile in return. Though he has no idea what he is grinning about. A gift? For him?

He continues to watch her, aroused eyes appreciating the svelte curve of her cream and golden neck as she bends to dislodge something from her mane. His eyes trace the delicate sinew shimmering beneath the silken skin, distracted from whatever she is actually retrieving.

Though his mind abruptly clears from the wanton fog as the lion’s claw comes sharply into focus. He studies it for a moment, face blank and body frozen. His eyes flick to hers, seeing her innocent and happy smile forming around the gift in her mouth. His gift. From her. A gift with meaning— that she saw him through his demons and ghosts and pleasant, moody facade. Saw his outward and inner strength and the power of his kind loyalty.

In a way, it showed him that her choice was him. Not Caleb. Not the Basin. Despite her outward choices. For to give a gift like this showed so much more connection— inward connection and devotion to him. His heart, scarred and burnt— once so hesitant to feel this burn of emotion again— leapt willing into flame. It pounded, almost painfully, in his chest.

Still silent, he moved, bowing his head to pick up a scrap of leather that must have been shredded from someone’s armor or satchel during the fight. Biting it down to a shorter length, he dexterously used his lips to weave it firmly at its base. His thick, soft mouth brushing gently against her dainty, velveteen lips. He watched her eyes during his task, overwhelming intimacy in their closeness. His intent gaze says the thanks that his words cannot.

Then he bows his great head before her, waiting for her to place her gift around his neck. Slowly straightening his neck as she does, he still stays quiet for a moment longer.

“My namesake is the elephant,” he says quietly, deep voice thick with emotion? Longing? Perhaps both. It is all he can think to say, before swiftly moving to envelop her into his body. The elephant is properly overwhelmed, now. Though one thing has become clear, he is hers and she is his. That is the only thing solid and concrete in the havoc of Helovia. “Rexanna, I need you,” his voice is lower, thicker now, as he moves beside her. He needs affirmation. Affirmation of life, of them, of everything.

one day we’ll reveal the truth,
that one will die before he gets there.

I watched him, waiting in entire excitement and happiness as his eyes lit up with just as much excitement as I had. This couldn’t have gone better, especially not after my outburst at him. Still lightly cursing myself for my upset, it was quickly melted away by just how he reacted to the little claw that sat between my lips. My smile curling up slightly more with a feeling of pride deep within my body. A slight hint of longing growing in the pit of my stomach as he approached closer, reaching down to the ground to reach for a stray piece of leather. As he began to wrap it around the claw, I felt his lips touch my own and my heart jumped.

I honestly never felt like this before.

Never before had such a simple movement caused such a stir for me emotionally. I melted, I felt as though I was lighter than air. Perhaps this is what Pegasi felt like when they flew? If so, it was a feeling I truly longed for. A feeling that I finally had.

I stayed still as I could as he wrapped it around, his creativity showing with the adjustment to the trinket. Then he pulled his head down so I could loop it over his head. As I did so, the trinket sat upon his neck for mere moments before I reached over and tugged on it, pulling it down so it reached the middle of his chest, slight movements brushing against his pelt as I watched my gift slide into place upon my Elephant.

Then he spoke and I smiled to him, not even knowing that others had called him the Elephant beforehand. I figured it had been such a great nickname, but perhaps I wasn’t the only one. I smiled to him, noting the change in his voice and my heart flaring with excitement. “Is it really? I thought I was being creative.” I laughed quietly to myself before smiling to him. He moved closer, wrapped me up in him and the warm heat from his charred skin and the body heat from my excitement mixing in pleasingly content way.

He then moved beside me and I pressed against him, our skin rubbing against one another ever so gently, the cream and golds on my pelt meshing with his tan and blackened ones. I reached my head to him, nipping playfully at his withers and shoulder, careful of his wounds. “Rexanna, I need you.” I heard him say, his voice lower. Pressing the side of my face against him gently, I only nodded. “I need you too, my love.” I spoke into his hide, breathless and happy all the same.

"Talk?"

“I need you too, my love,” his elephantine heart pounds harder in his deep chest, beneath her lion claw. Despite her words and gifts, he could never be entirely certain what his Rexanna would do— he now knew that she cared for him. That her feelings ran deeper; were more than the superficial lust they had felt on the beach. There had been glimmers of something more then, but now he knows that the glimmers were a steady burn of fire.

But, still, he is never certain as to what she would do. Feelings and actions and words could all reside in entirely different worlds. Sometimes (hopefully) they collided. But his gilded princess has revealed that she had lived a life where she had kept them separate in order to survive.

So, at her invitation, spoken with soft cream lips into the thickness of his hide, he grins. His eyes darken at her sensuously teasing nips, thick hide twitching with impatience between her pearly teeth— forgotten are the burns and wounds of battle. “Creative?” his voice rumbles lowly against her satin coat as he addresses her earlier words. He traces the curves of her barrel and flank with his lips, thick horn brushing against the top of her haunches.

Onyx lips and pale muzzle continue their exploration, similarly hued legs stepping around as he traces the line muscle in her haunches. He pauses, “Rexanna, I’d like to see how creative you can be,” he growls against her, roughly and playfully tugging the cream strands of her tail.

———fade to black———

He slides down beside her, buckskin coat nearly dark brown and slick with sweat. He sighs contentedly, brushing his wet shoulder against hers as he gently unsticks tendrils of mane from her neck with his muzzle. The brunt of emotions and lingering fervor of battle had caused him to be rougher and more powerful than he usually was with his slender Rexanna. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly, almost guiltily, amidst her mane.