Tembovu

The Elephant King had rested. Despite the unrest that lingered in the base of his skull from the obsession of being a father to his children, the King had slept well. True, utter exhaustion had numbed his mind to the unyielding tide of thoughts that crashed through it. Thus, with Mbwene keeping a watchful and warning eye out for anyone who might interrupt her bonded’s sleep, he had folded his thick, weary limbs beneath him, resting his head on a soft pile of needles dexterously arranged by a thoughtful trunk.

But now, he rose. First his ebony eyelids, slowly raising to reveal cloudy, navy eyes. Then his head; slowly and unsteadily it lifted on his thick neck. Then his forelimbs, with a groan they lifted his heavy forehand up. He paused for a few moments, sitting somewhat comically as he slowly blinked and looked around.

Mbwene was gone— she had left a while ago. Though she had not been sleeping, her bonded’s thoughts and intentions had been still flowing through their bond. As he had begun to reach the end of dreams and approach consciousness, two pressing individuals had flooded their bond: Alysanne and Orithia.

The Elephant needed to see both mares, but for vastly different reasons. Though Mbwene did not entirely understand the reasons behind it, she could feel the undercurrent for each. For Alysanne, there was gratitude (much to the small elephant’s consternation); for Orithia, there was rage and uncertainty.

So, since the small matriarch also felt the threads of exhaustion (despite the King’s deep rest) though their bond, she had preemptively gone to seek out Alysanne. Mbwene had already been left behind once, and she was not keen to repeat the endeavor. She figured that whatever this ‘gratitude’ led to, it was far preferable than the rage promised to the blushed mare.

The Elephant King groaned, stretching his neck and back while still sitting. It had been a long while since he had slept that deeply.

A lot had been happening lately, but one thing wasn’t changing - Alysanne still rarely slept. She spent her time wandering the Edge, trying to figure out what this change meant - if it meant anything. In an instant, so much of the fire and anger that had raged within her and driven every single step had evaporated as though it didn’t exist. There were significantly bigger things for her to worry about now. She wanted to prove that she was up to this task, prove that she could do this - that she could be a Queen for the herd to be proud of. And, hopefully, a queen that would last.

One of the things she could do was tend the garden - visiting it every day so that the nutrients that magically leeched from her hooves and weed any unwanted plants that may have seeded. The sun was just beginning to rise so the western sky off the cliffs by the garden was still dark with a few stars shining brightly. It was so peaceful here - a peace that she had sought so often in the last few seasons but that had evaded he. And now it just happened. Even Hemlock had decided it was safe to leave her, and he was soaring through the shadowy forest hunting.

But was the anger gone, or simply in hibernation? Waiting for the next spark to fan it into a wild fire?

One guess who she worried would provide her that spark.

So when the small elephant showed up, Alysanne worried this might be the time. Gently placing down the leave she had plucked off a plant, she regarded the companion carefully before speaking: “Hello Mbwene, am I needed?” Sometimes she forgot that she wasn’t one of the Moon Doctors anymore, that her skills for healing were limited to what herbs were growing in the garden or that she kept in the bag hanging off of her shoulder. That same anxiety twisted her heart when she saw a companion without their bonded - worried that someone was hurt. Even someone like Tembovu. Enough of a worry that there was no sass in her voice, just concern.

She motioned with her head for the small elephant to lead the way and she followed behind.

Soon enough, they came upon the sitting king and that worry (which was actually a little annoying) did not fade. “Tembovu? Are you alright?”

Tembovu

“Tembovu? Are you alright?”

Her words rattled in his great skull, fully sweeping away and cobwebs sleep may have left in his consciousness. Navy eyes sharpened, first on her verdantly green gaze (it was so brightly green), before slipping to Mbwene’s blues. He blinked a few more times, silently annoyed that his companion had sprung his Devoted Queen’s presence on him as such. With Alysanne, he was never certain what would happen (which insults flung or joyous news shared), so he needed to be alert with his Queen.

However, at the given moment, he was not. So, after a pointed stare at his small, tusked companion (who responded with a short toot and a flick of her tiny, tasseled tail), he turned his attention wholly and fully on the Devoted Queen. The woman was lovely, as ever; quite the contrast the the sleep-fuzzy King who had a single pine needle still clinging to the side of his face. Though she looked tired—had she slept?

He shook his heavy skull slightly, focusing on her question. “Yes, I am fine, Alysanne. Thank you,” his rumble was deep, still slightly husky from sleep. Slowly, he lurched to his feet, raising his heavy haunches with no semblance of grace. Moving solid muscle was heavy, and the Elephant’s sleep had made him stiff. He shook himself gently, sending a few pine needles that had clung to his buckskin hide scattering to the ground; though a few still caught in the black slash on his barrel. He paid the no mind, attention still wholly focused on the bold, black and white beauty before him.

“I am more than fine, because of you. I deeply thank you for helping Rexanna with her birth, and for telling me of my children. I am in your debt,” his low, throaty roll was genuine, navy eyes sincere in their earnest stare, “If there is anything I can do…” His voice trailed off, implying that the Elephant would be willing to oblige the Queen with whatever favor she request.

The morning’s light caught and twinkled on her bejeweled face, drawing his attention from her eyes to the new halter and necklace, “Those are beautiful, Alysanne.” His thickly spiraled, black ebony horn motion towards her new adornments.

Despite his answer, Alysanne watched Tembovu carefully as he stood - noting just how tired he seemed. For a moment, she thought about using the healing winds to refresh him but - that’s right, she was no longer a Moon Doctor. She couldn’t quickly heal anyone even if she wanted to, instead she was once again stuck only with her  herbs and plants and common sense.

Once he was fully standing, he continued to speak and - to her surprise - he was thanking her. Was this why Mbwene had come to find her? She glanced over at the meddlesome little elephant but it was warmth in her expression instead of annoyance. “You’ll come to find that foals are a weakness of mine.” She responded with a smile, small but genuine. “Whatever our… disagreements, I wouldn’t want to be the one who came between you and your children. I hope Rexanna and the twins are still doing well?”

A moment later, and Alysanne received a second surprise from Tembovu - he chased the thanks with a compliment. Well, this was new. The painted mare was pretty sure she failed at covering up the widening of her green eyes well enough for it to not be notable, but everyone had to admit that was pretty out of the norm for the two of them. She smiled after a moment, though, cautiously. It was strange to be exchanging such pleasant conversation with the Elephant King and she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last. “Thank you. I had a… strange encounter with a creature on an island in the south. This was a gift from our Goddess that it gave me.” This information was shared without bragging - she felt uncertain about what the gift even meant. Maybe he didn’t even need to know all of that information but it still perplexed her. Had the Goddess given her a gift as a gentle reminder of the quest she had yet to complete?

She shook her head lightly, the halter and necklace twinkling with the movement - she was still unaccustomed to the weight and noise that it made. The small glass headband that she had worn since her first day in the Edge didn’t make nearly as much noise.

After a moment, which Alysanne let stretch out between them as she tried to get up the courage to say what she needed to. Tembovu had only just said he was in her debt and here she was, about to ask for it to be paid already.

“There’s actually…” Alright, this was going to be a lot harder to say than she actually thought. Alysanne closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself before starting over. “Since we’re partners now, there’s something I think you should know.” The hesitation in her voice made it clear that she wasn’t completely sold on sharing this information - she still didn’t trust him - but she had decided to be honest and open, thinking those were two good qualities in a Queen. “I meant to tell you right after the meeting, but it was chaotic and Mauja seemed to have disapproved when I told him so I didn’t want to bring it up with him again.” She was growing fond of the spotted Emissary and didn’t want her troublesome tasks to get between the possibility of a friendship. “I’m on a quest for our Goddess, I have been for years now. It’s… difficult. She gave me tasks to help me learn but most of them go against my nature.” She honestly had no idea how much to tell him, wasn’t sure if she should go into the terrible things she was going to have to do, so she stuck to the original plan - tell him only what he needed to know. They were co-leaders now, not friends. This quest was guarded so close to her heart she hadn’t even fully told her sister about it.

And besides, she didn’t want to hear his hypocritical judgement about how she needed to hurt someone when he had done far worse.

“You see, when I didn’t heal myself after our fight… that was because part of my quest was to receive an injury and not be healed. I didn’t think that was important for you to know then, but it is now. There will be a time when I am wandering around the Edge, hurt, and I just need to let it heal on its own.” There was more that could be said, probably, but she fell silent there - guarded green eyes watching him, waiting for a reaction.

And she hadn't even gotten to the favour she needed from him yet.

Tembovu

Mbwene’s bright blue eyes widened slightly, her self-satisfied smirk fading as Alysanne’s bright green gaze looked at her with warmth. The small elephant’s head cocked slightly, ears slowly fanning out as her trunk raised in recognition and surprise at such a look from the Queen yet known to Mbwene as a source of angst and news that caused her bonded to leave her behind. But the warmth in her look and gentleness of her next words were entirely at odds with what the matriarch knew of Alysanne.

Tembovu could not help the small amount of amusement at the shock that flowed from Mbwene through their bond. The grouchy elephant had entirely made up her mind about the woman, until this moment. His navy gaze glanced between the Queen and his companion for a moment, before looking back to Alysanne’s small (but genuine) smile.

His brows raised as she revealed that a creature in the South had given her such trinkets—from their Goddess, no less. Prior to the Bramble Thicket fiasco, the King would have been happy for the Queen’s gift; now, however, he eyed it with equal parts admiration and suspicion. He felt that, with the Moon, few things came without a cost.

In the silence that stretch after her explaining where the trinkets came from, he shifted somewhat uneasily (for only their history of shouted arguments put the King on edge) and answered her previous question, ““Foals, and family, are weakness of mine, as well,” he chuckled softly, surprised to find something in common with his adversarial Queen,“ “Rexanna is doing well, as are Kiada and Kianzo. They seem unruly, though Rexanna chooses to remain in the Basin.” A shadow passed over his face as he admitted the last part; and it clung as dark line around his cobalt gaze. The King did not want Rexanna to raise their strong-willed, Dorobian children alone; but how was he to help if shackled by responsibility to the Edge?

As his words faded, his eyes again were attracted to her baubles as she shook her head; the light causing a lovely twinkling of the crystal. He continued to carefully study her necklace, especially as the Queen began to speak again (”There’s actually…”), her deep and steadying breath with closed eyes doing little to set the King at ease.

Their conversation had been too pleasant, to easy, thus far for it to last. His lips pressed slightly as he waited for her hesitant words. ”I’m on a quest for our Goddess…” He closely studied the intricate mingling of crystals and amethysts of her necklace, trying to will away the tension and sudden uneasy concern that leapt into his barrel for the Queen. His mistrust of the Goddess was heightened, now, and to be on a quest for her, by oneself… It did not sound safe nor sane.

”You see, when I didn’t heal myself…” His eyes riveted to hers, then, quietly listening—though the lines around his mouth grew more pronounced as he pursed his thick, black lips tighter together. His forcing her to heal herself had prolonged her quest for the Goddess? His ears tilted back, unsure of which emotion swelled largest in his chest: anger at himself, annoyance at Alysanne for not telling him this, or exasperation at the both of them.

““I am sorry I insisted you to heal yourself, Alysanne. If I had known, I would have tried to understand and perhaps would have not been so forceful,” his deep voice finally rolled after a long moment of contemplative silence. He paused again, searching the woman’s ebony, lovely face, ““What is the reason for your quest?” His hide twitched as a few, remaining needles finally slipped from his coarse hair; his great skull was dropped to be level with his Queen’s.

It felt strange to find a common weakness with Tembovu, though Hemlock unhappily supplied a list of others that Alysanne chose to ignore - such as their anger issues. For now, though, at his chuckle Alysanne’s smile warmed further. Foals and family - her weaknesses as well. Tembovu revealed that Rexanna was choosing to remain in the Basin instead of moving to the Edge. Which, well, Alysanne had conflicting feelings about. She applauded her golden friend’s strength and determination in not giving up her home and rank because of some stallion but still, it would be nice to have Rexanna and her twins here in the Edge. “Perhaps she will change her mind one day.” Alysanne offered as some consolation, hope warming her voice.

If only they could talk about family and these safe topics forever, but that was not the nature of their relationship - the Devoted and the Elephant King.

Alysanne was thankful that he waited for her to get it all out, as much as she stumbled and halted through it. He apologized, which felt great but she forced herself not to roll her eyes at the statement that followed it, forced down the fire that burned in her stomach at those words. “I didn’t want you to know, didn’t think my reasons were any of your business.” She spoke carefully, a sad smile in her eyes as she purposefully kept any edge out of those words, not wanting to spark another argument over the same thing. It still wasn’t any of his business, at least not on a personal level, and it still annoyed her that he hadn’t trusted her judgement as a doctor.

How could he trust her judgement as a queen?

But Alysanne mentally shook off those thoughts because they would only bring her trouble. She didn’t want to get into an argument with him, not when she had a favour to ask. She had started this meeting with the intentions of being honest with him and she wasn’t going to back down now. So she took another steadying breath and answered his question. “I wanted the magic to take pain from others and transfer it to me, temporarily, to give relief.” Her green eyes were glued to his face, watching carefully for the reaction, and stilling her tongue until she had that reaction. So far, she had yet to have someone say ‘wow that’s helpful! What a good idea Alysanne!’ so her hopes weren’t exactly high. She wasn’t even overly fond of the idea of the magic herself anymore but here she was, continuing it - afraid of what might happen if she should fail.

Failing wasn’t an option with their Goddess. Especially not now.

Tembovu

The Elephant ‘hmmm’ed softly in response to Alysanne’s warmly hopeful offering at Rexanna maybe coming to the Edge one day to live. It had been seasons—it felt like lifetimes— since that hope had first festered in his chest. And now, while his gilded siren had breathed life back into the smoldering ball of hope in the deepest parts of his chest, he had long since denied believing in such a hope. Such beliefs had grown too painful.

Though his eyes remained creased and dark as he continued to trace the line of crystals and amethysts around her neck with his gaze. “I didn’t want you to know…” His moving gaze arrested at the base of her neck, just above her chest, jaw ticking slightly as he willed away the irritation at Alysanne’s insisted independence. Of course her reasons were not his business—she was Devoted to the Edge, not to him. But, still, the Elephant cannot entirely erase his annoyance that it was her stubborn denial of his ability to be useful, rather than a mere figurehead for the Edge.

So, as it was, he missed her sad smile and flicker of her jade eyes in her mental preparation. And he missed the sharp study of her eyes on his face as she answered his question about her quest. But he did hear the words she spoke, and the undercurrent of apprehension that lilted the end of her sentence—as if there was more for her say, but she hadn’t yet.

And so his navy eyes left her necklace, meeting her vibrantly green eyes with partially raised brows. His silence lasted for a few moments, his mind weighing the meaning of what she quested for: taking other’s pain. His head cocked slightly, blue stare probing her face—why was ‘her business’ suddenly ‘his business’?

“That is incredibly selfless, Alysanne,” his low rumble finally came, though it was tinged with some small part approval. And then he fixed her with his gaze, waiting to hear the unsaid words that hung in the air after her statement.

At his comment, his only comment, Aly released a quick humourless laugh and muttered “Some don’t think so.” But she really didn’t want to get into that whole thing right now.

The time had come to get right down to the point, Tembovu was looking at her as if he knew that there was more that she didn’t say. And of course there was more - it was a boulder weighing down her stomach and working its way up into her throat until it was just going to burst forward. She felt like she was choking on the words, which was ridiculous.

Even if they weren’t exactly “friends”, she had never shied away from asking for help when she needed it before. This shouldn’t, theoretically, be any different.

Still, Aly couldn’t remember feeling quite this uncomfortable in a long, long time but she still felt like this was the best shot that she had. Others she could ask, sure, but she believed Tembovu would be the most likely to actually give her what she needed. Finally steeling herself, she forced herself to just say it. Standing there, staring at him, wasn’t going to get the job done. “I… I was wondering if you could do me a favour and help me with this task.” That was ridiculously hard to get out and she started to feel winded just saying that single sentence. But it did not make her skin crawl the way she expected it to - after all, she was the one asking for the favour, she needed him to say yes.

The Moon Goddess had told her it was supposed to be difficult and Aly had to agree, it certainly was.

“I need to sustain an injury, something not as superficial as a small cut or a bruise - but not something that would fester and grow to be infected too easily.” She had already made that mistake - letting too deep of a wound heal for itself and facing the consequences. Now she bore that scar on her thigh, a deep and terrible gash, that required the skillful talents and magic of her friend Lena to heal.

She took a steadying breath, not letting herself look away from his face - watching as much as she was listening for his reaction. “With your warrior background I thought you… you might be willing and have the knowledge to make such a wound.” And then she just waited, her eyes not quite pleading but filled with apprehension. It was a strange request, she knew, and not one she expected him to take lightly. Or, at least, she hoped it would not be.    

Tembovu

His great skulled cocked slightly at her humorless laugh and disagreement to his compliment of her—a wry grin crossing his features as he realized that Alysanne would possibly forever be contrary to whatever he happened to say. Though he did mildly regret the animosity fostered between the two from that fateful day in the forest, in this moment he found it wryly amusing.

Though his amusement faded as she asked for his help. It was all he could do not to break out in a satisfied grin—instead he focused on the seriousness of this moment. An opportunity to smooth over a relationship that was filled with sharp peaks and valleys of discord and mistrust.

And any thought he had of grinning was immediately doused from his mind as she further explained the favor she needed. “An injury?” he echoed as his ears tilted backwards slightly as his navy eyes studied her face—just as she was studying his. This was oddly reminiscent of Mauja asking him to ‘kill him,’ that fateful day where he had plunged his massive horn into his chest. His jaw clenched slightly, his mind immediately balking at the idea of repeating that tortuous experience.

But the Devoted had asked him. He had thrust her into Queendom, she had healed his wounds, and had aided Rexanna during her birth of his children. Though his mind wanted to refuse the request, his conscious knew that would be both wrong and selfish of him.

She wanted something that would not get easily infected: that eliminated anything low on her body. Though she was pegasus, from what the King had seen, the Devoted seemed to prefer to travel via her hooves rather than her wings. Thus, any wound low on her body would be exposed to too much filth to be kept clean. He had seen superficial leg scrapes kill soldiers on the Plains when they were not properly tended to.

And she needed the wound to be deep—well, ’not as superficial as a small cut or a bruise’. That removed her neck, face, back or wing joints. A deeper injury there, even if made with careful purpose of his horn, had the potential of causing too much damage to the critical structures that ran there.

Navy eyes had roamed over each of these places as he thought—not in a sensual way, though eyes did linger on the soft curve of her neck as he ruminated over his options. Then he nodded slightly to himself, “Your chest. It is lower than I’d like and more easily infected, but if it does fester, it easily drains. You will be able to clean it daily, and there is enough muscle here to provide the depth of wound you require.” His great skull began to drop as he spoke, a single sizzling drop of magma falling from his chest to the forest floor that he plunged his horn-tip around to purify it, though his cobalt gaze did not leave her emerald eyes as he spoke.

“I could do the top of your haunches, but that would be harder for you to clean on your own,” with the simple explanation, he lowered his horn tip and aimed to gently place it against her white chest, over the right pectoral. The further, eerie semblance to his piercing another’s equally pale and pristine chest—though that one had been spotted. And he had aimed for the heart, on the left side.

Then, should Alysanne allow it, he began to slowly push his horn into flesh—so soft and giving around his hard, sharp length. He did it slowly neither to prolong the agony nor because of reluctance. His sluggish movements were from caution: he did not want to push too deep and cause an unneeded wound.

When he felt he had slowly thrust far enough in, he gingerly began to withdraw, spinning his horn slightly so that the loose ridges would ‘screw’ out rather than rip flesh. Again, his dark blue eyes sough her bright green, “Are you alright?” His deep voice rumbled quietly. Wound sustained in battle were easily taken as adrenaline numbed the body. This, he suspected, must be excruciating.

He wasn’t sure how this would affect their relationship, but he certainly felt it changing.

Tembovu was, it turned out, exactly who she needed for this. She felt a little bit annoyed at this fact but really, it was a small, tiny feeling in comparison to the gratitude. This strange request wasn’t greeted by laughter or disgust as she had feared, but considered seriously. He had every right to refuse the request, of course, and she truly wouldn’t have held it against him if he had declined her. Alysanne would have just and gone and found someone else, or perhaps picked up a spar with one of the warriors. She had told Nyx she wanted to learn how to fight, after all.

But Tembovu didn’t balk away from her request. He was taking her seriously, switching into a professional and almost clinical mode as he thought about the best place for the wound. She stayed quiet and still as he looked her over, watching him and waiting for what he would decide. When he nodded slightly, seemingly to himself, she knew the choice had been made.

Her chest.

She would have liked for it to be somewhere she could hide with her wings but, as she had discovered with her other wounds, being jostled by feathers throughout the day wasn’t exactly helpful for the healing process and she did not want to repeat the experience from last time when she had slipped into a near-delirious fever from the wound. The pegasus mare couldn’t find her voice to speak or make a reply, her eyes never leaving his, but she nodded in agreement to his choice of location - standing up and lifting her head when he approached and placed his horn hip.

With that first gentle press she had trembled, but remained firm in her stance - nodding once more to encourage him despite the fear that was raging within her. How could she ever claim to distrust Tembovu when she was asking him to do this? This was far more intimate than anything she had ever asked anyone before. Literally placing her life in his possession for a few moments.

Then he pushed forward and all of Alysanne’s doubts and fears rushed forward, causing her to gasp with the pain and their release, but she did not move. Her eyes slid closed and she ground her teeth together but she did not move. This was what she wanted, she had no right to cry out in pain.

But did it ever hurt.

She kept her eyes closed and her teeth clenched until she felt him move away once more - sick with the sensation that she could actually feel his horn leave her chest. Alysanne stood there for a few moments, hearing his question but not really registering it as she thought about what her answer would be. Was she fine? What kind of horse asked someone to stab her? Her breathing was heavy as though she had just galloped all the way from the Throat to the Edge.

It only took a moment for her to open her eyes, to seek out his gaze and offer some strange form of shaky smile as she whispered back. “I’m… fine. Thank you.”

She almost reached out to him, to thank him with a soft touch of her muzzle to his, but before she did something else caught her attention. To her horror, as she looked at him, Alysanne felt the pressure build up behind her eyes and she knew she was going to start crying. It wasn’t all from the pain - she had been hurt worse before - but the pain acted as a catalyst and now (oh god why now) she could feel tears forming.

“Shit.” The curse was awkward and hushed, it wasn’t exactly something that Alysanne did after all. She quickly shook her head but that didn’t dispel the shine of tears in her green eyes so she turned her head away - blatantly looking anywhere but Tembovu. As if that would somehow hide the horrid thing that was happening to her right now.

But she didn’t bolt just yet - she thought, after what had just happened, he deserved a little bit more than to see her fly off in tears. Especially after he had just stabbed her. Alysanne struggled to get control over her emotions so her voice wouldn’t shake so much, all while pointedly avoiding his gaze. She almost wanted to laugh this situation had quickly dissolved into something more ridiculous than dramatic! “I really appreciate you helping me, Tembovu, I do but this is… well I think this is about something else. And I’m not ready for you to see me cry.” She smiled faintly then, though with her head turned away he might not have been able to even see it. Sure, he had just stabbed her in the chest but watching her cry? Oh no, that was far too big of a step for their relationship to take today.    

Tembovu

His black-rimmed ears, now perked, caught her labored breathing. He had felt the thundering of her heart around his horn when it pierced her—and now, that he looked at her closed eyes, pinched face, and clenched jaw, he knew that it hurt much more than he thought it would.

His neck started to reach out, an instinctive need to console filling him in the wake of purposefully causing her harm. But his stretched out, heavy skull paused the moment her verdant green eyes opened and found his own, dark, uncertain navy blues. A soft, short, warm breath pushed out of his nostrils as she whispered a quiet platitude and gratitude.

And, as he studied her eyes and saw an slight, telling sheen begin to cover their green, sensitive depths, he blinked, looked away, and pulled back his head. Just as her own head nearly reached out to his, but he missed her motion as he was looking and pulling away. Paths that never crossed…

His navy gaze jerked back to her as she whispered a quiet curse. His brows raised, realizing he had never heard the Devoted utter anything worse than angry words—usually directed at him. If not for her blood that pooled as a warm wetness beneath his horn, he would have grinned and chided the pegasus for her un-Queenly language.

As it was, he simple blinked in surprise at her—a surprise that deepened with her next words. And, with her faint smile giving him sort of ‘permission,’ he, too, gave small and lopsided grin in response. His thick horn dipped once in deference to her request, “By all means, my Queen, save your tears from me.” And, which his deep rumble warmed with the faintest amounts of amusement, his great body slipped into the mists.