The Aurelian siren continued to grow ever so slightly more worried as the night continued on that her beloved Elephant wouldn’t show. She masked it, easily, knowing that the time to show emotion would more than likely be the end of the night if the Edge’s King hadn’t shown. She put up a face, hiding it all but allowing the unease to settle in her cracks and crevices. Soon, however, the unease began to melt away – the worry following suite as the large figure of her lover came into view. He first spoke to Lyanna, the beautiful Pegasus that she had greeted and spoken with previously, but continued on to her.

His massive neck wrapped around hers and she smiled, closing her lids in the process as she leaned into him. “Tembovu.” She acknowledged breathlessly as he began to untangle himself from her and drift away. Quickly, the Thief pardoned herself from Lyanna and Haldir and followed the man who held the key to her heart. A bright wide smile crossed her lips as she seemed to dance in the auroras in her attempt to reach him.

“My love, I’ve been thinking a lot about what my answer would be. I’m so happy that you’re here so I can tell you.” She began, her words jumping and clashing together in the excitement of her chest. “I’m coming home with you. Kiada, Kianzo, you, and I. We’re all going back to the Edge.” She grinned to him, reaching in to press the side of her face against the gentle smooth skin of his neck.

"Talk."

time stops still and lends you hope

that hazy due—

—wash away that fear; a cloud of smoke.

Her gentle lean into his strong embrace kindled something him—something like hope. And it was this hope, along with her delicate scent of sunshine and lilies, the followed him to the shadows, intermittently lit by the Lights’ aqua-green glow. And she followed him, a breathless and bright smile lighting a face he had come to know so well; yet had been so distant from for so long. His massive body stilled, navy eyes tracing the light lines that danced around her eyes and face as she spoke. her words were excited, her voice vibrant and keeping even the shadows they stood in at bay.

“We’re all going back to the Edge.”

He stood still and silent for a few, long heartbeats. He had, for all the reasons his past had repeatedly given him, unknowingly prepared himself for no. For further denial and more time without the woman he loved. But this—

For the first time since he had gazed on the life of his first (and now dead) son, he felt a heat burn his throat. He was still unmoving, even as she gently pressed her warm, smooth cheek against the scarred hide of his neck. But he does not allow himself to cave beneath the joy, the euphoria, that implodes in him like the very fireworks that had drawn him to her. No, for there are things—so many truths— that their love must climb up and stand upon before he or she can accept this answer.

“Rexanna, mpenzi, you cannot know how happy—how incredibly happy—you saying this makes me,” his voice, hoarse and deep, hitched only once in his words before he soldiered on, “But there are things you must know—things I must tell you.” He paused, the silence heavy and weighted as own guilt warred with the pride of the foals.

“I have children. Foals by other mares in the Edge,” and so the truth began to rip ragged, jagged holes in his throat as he, without any pretense or cover for his faults, told her everything, “Hawezi, he has gone missing. But he is by Elsa, a woman I respect and still deeply care for. I told her you were coming to live with me in the Edge, after we—after we conceived the twins, and she… I think the hates me for it.”

His massive body shifted away from Rexanna’s silken warmth, his navy seeking her cerulean as he continued to flagellate his confessions to her, “Adaeze, the woman who gave you our children’s names—Zubari and Katua are mine, with her. She and I share a history, and I was directly responsible for the death of her child in Dorobo. So I gave her another chance at being amother—and it would be a lie to say I do not care for her. I cannot apologize for my children, Rexanna. Just as I cannot ask you to apologize for Rein. But I am sorry if this hurts you. You must believe me when I tell you that hurting you is the last thing I want. But I owe you these truths.”

He paused, one last weight heavily weighing on him. A last truth, a final confession; one he did not want to tell but one he knew he must, if he wished for this new start with Rexanna to be an honest, true one.

“And Orithia, the woman who drove you from the Edge—” his navy eyes glanced away, up to the skies that danced merrily, without any thought or care to the holes the Elephant was ripping into his own chest, “She is a resilient woman, but also a broken one. I have shared myself with her, and I have feelings for her. But I do not forgive her for what she has done to you—to us.” The last word was said quietly, almost a whisper (a prayer?); so fragile a word that he nearly daren’t say it aloud, for fear it would shatter beneath the weight of his sins.

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

Rexanna shifted almost nervously as the words left her lips – her eyes glued to Tembovu as she gave him the answer before pressing her face into his neck. However, he seemed distant, stilled, quiet for a few moments until he began to speak – words that didn’t seem to have that excited charm like how she dreamed it would have. A soft sigh passed her lips and she pulled away from him, concern lacing her eyes as she looked upon him - ’things you must know, things I must tell you’. What could it be this time? Her brows furrowed together as she waited, silently for him to spill it all for her.

Immediately a frown found her lips – that the blushed Pegasus had been correct in saying that there was a son between Tembovu and Elsa, and deep down she worried if the woman would loathe her for the things she hadn’t known. Instead, she nodded along as “I know about Hawezi” left her lips in a whisper. She didn’t know what else to say about Elsa, knowing deep down that it would’ve upset her too at one point in time if she hadn’t done the same thing to the man standing before her – confessing his sins.

Yet, he began to speak of Adaeze and she nodded, surprised entirely by the fact. But as he spoke and explained himself her gaze left his face and took a moment to look around the mountain peaks she had seemingly buried herself in the last few years. But it wasn’t over then – he began to speak of Orithia and her harks pinned to her skull immediately. ’I have shared myself with her, and I have feelings for her. But I do not forgive her for what she has done to you – to us” Part of her wanted to scream at the idea – but things had changed so much and they had spent so long away from one another, uncertain if their relationship would stand or falter in the wind. So she had to understand – she couldn’t not understand.

Her gaze returned to Tembovu, a soft gleam in her eyes as she offered him a small smile. “We’ve all done things, Tembovu. I can forgive you for everything – on one condition.” She began, “one; if I am to return with you to the Edge, I expect our relationship to be the only one. I do not want to share you with another.” Her look was solid as she looked upon him. “Also, I would like to say that I wasn’t completely truthful in what I had to say about Rein’s conception.” A frown found her lips once again. “I was a little frightened, mostly just hurt from a spar. I wasn't forced to do anything, but Ashamin hadn’t any children either – and it just so happened that I was the one to give him his first.” She informed him. “I haven’t seen Rein in many seasons now. I think he’s followed Ashamin wherever he went. All I can say is that I’m sorry for the past, and I want this change – me and our children moving to the Edge – to basically be a fresh plate. Forget about the stupid things we’ve done while we were away, all that matters now is that we’re together.” She attempted to catch his gaze. “Right?”

"Talk."

time stops still and lends you hope

that hazy due—

—wash away that fear; a cloud of smoke.

He had lost her gaze to the mountains as he spoke. Her ears had pinned at the mention of his blushed dove—understandably so. Even the Elephant had anger ripple through his chest at the thought of the woman pushing Rexanna—sides swollen with his own seed— away from the Edge; away from him. But there is also some part of him that resents the anger; resents the pin of Rexanna’s ears at the blushed woman. But Orithia was gone, vanished from the Edge shortly after they had shared so much—abandoning the bond the Elephant and Dove had shared. And here was Rexanna, with him. Forgiving him.

So he continued to watch her, tamping down the uneasy resentment and surprise that Rexanna had already known about Hawezi. “You know?” His deep rumble quietly, almost rhetorically, repeats her words. But the question is faded in significance, for there were more important words beginning to spill from her soft, smiling, pink lips.

His head dipped to her level as she spoke, ”I do not want to share you with another,” and a small, lopsided grin crossed his muzzle at the possessiveness of her stern words. Slowly, with each look and syllable, the tension and misery began to seep out of of his massive body. His thick, buckskin hide began to relax over great, loosening despite the frown and stern looks that accompanied her words.

It was not because he did not value or weigh her phrases seriously. It was because, despite all that he had confided—all the ways he perceived to have failed her— she was still there. Even the mention of conceiving Rein (and the Elephant cannot stop the flash of the Clovenheart atop her), causes only a momentary scowl and quick pin of his back-rimmed ears. She was not forced? His ears tilt forward again, navy eyes studying the elegant black lines of her face, “Why did you hide the truth?” There was no accusation in the soft murmur of his deep voice, only concern.

He sighed quietly, muzzle reaching out to try and hook over the crest of her neck and pull him closer to him; he no longer wanted distance between them now that he knew she had accepted all his faults. “I saw Rein not long after Marembo hatched, and told him you were coming to live in the Edge. So he will know where you are, my love,” his voice was warm, comforting—she needn’t worry that Rein would return to the Basin to look for her.

He slowly ran his chin along the satin crest of her neck, smoothing away her silken ivory tresses. Navy eyes close as a deep, slow breath pulls in all that is Rexanna. “Yes, that is all that matters, Rex,” his rumble was content now as he let himself—for a few precious moments—drift on the elation this moment gave him. Gave them.

“Nakupenda.” His murmur was quiet, nearly inaudible, but the sound of the word in his native tongue was a warm nostalgia to the Elephant King.

---


Nakupenda = I love you.

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

“You know?” A gentle nod was all she could muster. She wanted to tell him that she knew of him, from the blushed Pegasus known as Orithia. Of how her children would create the rift between the King and Queen of the Edge, and how it would be ultimately her fault for the destroying of the World’s Edge monarchy. It seems that the mare was more of a fortune teller at this point – and to think that Rexanna hadn’t wanted to listen to the mare’s tales. A soft sigh passed through her lips, nostrils flaring ever so slightly with the movement. “I didn’t want to believe it at first, but when I saw our children for the first time I knew I had to come to terms with it.” She smiled, then, a soft willful smile against the whisper from her lips.

However, Tembovu continued to speak, asking her why she hid the truth – but there was no malice, no anger or resentment, and deep down she was ever thankful for the man Tembovu had turned into. “You have to remember that when I was with Cal, he was so temperamental that I had to protect myself. I’d lie to get myself out of the situation. I’m sorry I hid the truth, I just didn’t know how you’d react.” She admitted, an honest answer for once among their relationship. However, as he sighed and draped his muzzle across her back and caressed her, the Thief melted into his touch. He told her that he had seen Rein and it managed to meld some of the bitterness that soured her throat. He had told her son that she would be in the Edge, and it edged some of her pain and frustration of being a failed mother once again.

“Nakupenda” the words left his lips as Rexanna pressed her face into his neck, breathing in the scents of sands and faraway lands barely covered by the sea spray lands she had visited in the more recent future. “I love you too, my Elephant.” She whispered, ebony lids closed, brushing her snow white lashes against his scarred pelt. “I can’t wait to see the journey that awaits us.” With her eyes still closed, she smiled again into his pelt before pulling away ever so slightly – her head swiveling to look upon him with her indigo gaze. “In the morning I’ll go and speak with Hotaru and Deimos, to keep things honorable between us. You could gather my things and the children before we set out?” She questioned, tilting her head lightly.

As if a light turned on, she sought her lovers attention once again. "Actually, I do have a request..." She paused, shifting in her spot. "There's a man that I think should come with us." She tried to pick her words carefully, but they seemed to fail her. "There's nothing going on between us, but he saved my life when I came to Helovia and I think he should come with us to the Edge." She added in, hoping it would subside any worries Tembovu might begin to bear. "His name is Thranduil." She lifted her head higher, ever so slightly hoping for a 'yes'.

"Talk."

time stops still and lends you hope

that hazy due—

—wash away that fear; a cloud of smoke.

”But when I saw our children…”

The Elephant King sighed contentedly at the phrase—their children. Two foals, twins, that were born of their love and lust; and now, with Rexanna’s decision and promise, would be living with him. In the Edge. Warmth, not the blazing heat of rage or the burn of guilt, but the pleasant warmth of contented happiness spread from his chest. It arched through his veins and pooled in his barrel.

For these few moments, all was right with the world. All was good. And that is what keeps life struggling for purchase in this dispassionate world. These small, warm moments.

”You remember that when I was with Cal…” His strokes along the crest of her neck faltered for a moment, chin pressing into her withers as she apologized for lying by explaining it in the context of her history. “No more apologies tonight, mpenzi,” his quiet, deep roll was firm, but also gentle. They had both said enough—tested themselves enough. Important things were shared, confessed, and forgiven. And though their love had climbed all the debris they had laid in its path, the Elephant was unwilling to continue to throw larger and larger boulders in its bath until it could no longer surmount them.

He nodded slightly at her question of him gathering her things and the children before they left in the morning. He wouldn’t mind staying another night in her cave—it was warm and comfy and safe (if slightly dwarfed with him, Rexanna, their companions, their children, and their children’s companions).

Meeting her gaze that sought his, he slowly began to urge her towards the water’s edge—he was ready to watch the aurora borealis with the woman he loved wrapped around him. Though, as he gently herded her, his ears tilted back gaze glancing sharply at her as she rushed to assure him that there was “nothing going on between” them. A soft sigh left his nostrils—suspicion could have no place between the king and his lover if they were to start again.

“I know Thranduil… He saved your life?” he paused, thinking on he few encounters with the Laurelin; all of which did not make him inclined to trust the man, “I will think on it.” once at the lake’s edge, his muzzle gently pressed along her spine—indicating she should lay down. Similarly, his own thick limbs began to buckled behind her, his great bulk aiming to wrap around her back. “Another night, you will have to tell me how he save you. But tonight is ours,” and his low rumble ended with a finality, eyes turning up towards the dancing lights as his skin warmed the satin of hers.

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

“No more apologies tonight, mpenzi.” Relief flooded through the pale gilded mare. His touch was ever so soft, caressing her and caving her into him for what seemed like the first time ever. It was a serene feeling – finally were things heading in the right direction, finally did she no longer have to tell him no, finally did she no longer have to hide anything from him, finally could she finally spend the rest of her life with the man she thought of when she closed her eyes every night. Rexanna smiled into his touch, despite his slight herding toward the water.

Of course, she obliged, tiptoeing along with him toward the lakes Edge, the aurora billowing and bursting from the sky and the stars above the mountain peaks – oh how she’d miss this place. She knelt as he did, laying in his gentle embrace as he wrapped himself around her. The rumble of his words ever so gentle as he questioned her of the Laurelin, yet his answer wasn’t exactly what she wanted. Her ears wavered in uncertainty, but she followed through with the idea that the night would be theirs, and that she didn’t need to worry about anything else for the rest of the night.

She simply nodded to him, the smile curving up the corners of her lips as her oceanic gaze drifted across the land she called her home. “Yes, it is.” She agreed, settling into him a little further, leaning back to look upon the sky. Despite spending this time with Tembovu, she still had a job to do at the Festival. Her head lifted an gilded horn pointed toward the sky as she focused her magic – a soft glow began at the tip until fireworks erupted from her horn toward the sky, reaching what appeared to be the beautiful blanket of colors before exploding further and dancing down in trails of red, oranges, and golds. Oh what a beautiful night it was to be alive.

"Talk."

time stops still and lends you hope

that hazy due—

—wash away that fear; a cloud of smoke.

His head shifted as hers rose slightly away from his embrace; though her slender and silken body still leaned into him. Navy eyes blinked rapidly against the light that gathered at her gilded horn’s tip. And then his dark, liquid cobalt gaze followed the light as it arced in the sky; exploding in a myriad of warm colors that were bright against the northern lights’ cool palette. A lopsided grin crossed his thick lips as he turned to softly run them along the curve of her ear. “Are you showing off?” His murmur was quietly teasing and husky as he gently nibbled on her ear’s pale tip—

”Bambo, Mayi, I—I can’t find Kianzo.”

The father’s head jerked back and swiveled towards the abrupt appearance of his breathless, obviously upset daughter. Slowly, the heat began to melt from his eyes as some cold replaced the warmth in his barrel—fear. His once relaxed body began to stiffen, muscles tightening beneath a hide scarred by time—just as his mind was shadowed with demons. Demons that rose from dormancy the moment his fear breathed life into them.”I was covering for him…” His jaw clenched against the anger that welled in response to the fear (as a General, fear was not a useful emotion), navy eyes staring hard at his daughter.

But then she chocked on her words, and her bright gaze stared at his over-bright with shame and panic. “Come here, binti,” his deep voice, though hard from the fear of losing his son, called quietly to his daughter. His neck gestured to the curve of Rexanna’s belly, indicating that Kiada should come into her parent’s embrace.

“We will find him,” his rumble was firm, a promise to both his mate, daughter, himself, and his lost son. But beneath it, hidden from the woman and girl he loved, was a roiling uncertainty and fear deep in his barrel.

---

binti = daughter

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.