Tembovu

His brows had raised when Rexanna found him. A part of him had worried that she needed a job in the Edge, a rank of some kind since she had abandoned her station as head Thief in the Basin. But, it seemed that his golden lover had found something to fill her days with, for as he was busy with Kingly duties she seemed to be preoccupied with tasks of her own. So he hadn’t pursued the issue, though his curiosity had been piqued by her daily disappearances. Jealousy had not (yet) risen its ugly head, as they were starting anew.

So, when Rexanna, with twinkling eyes, embraced him in a hug (that he returned, tightly, in kind; it would never cease to exult him that he had her in the Edge), he grinned but with renewed curiosity. “A surprise, mpenzi?” His deep rumble sounded affectionately around the pet name he reserved solely for her, “You are the only surprise I need,” his muzzle reached out to lip along the delicate skin of her throat as the thought of teaching her Dorobian flashed through his mind—but it was quickly replaced by the mischief that flashed through her face as she insisted he close his eyes before she’d lead him there. “Lead me where?”

But, despite his question, his navy eyes shuttered close and he felt her silken heat press into his side. A grin spread across his muzzle as he leaned into her, his muzzle blindly reaching to gently nip whatever part of her flesh he could get into his mouth. But then she was gone, only soft nudges of her velvet muzzle guiding him towards whatever ’there’ she was speaking of. Though his steps were choppy and uneven, feeling with his ivory hooves for even earth, and he felt ridiculous, he could not help his rumbling chuckle when he heard her light giggles.

Mbwene chortled at this entire arrangement, meandering behind the slow-going couple. also very curious about Rexanna’s surprise. She loved surprises. Tembovu’s nostrils flared as the briny scent of the sea grew stronger she she led him. And finally ”Okay! Open!”—he blinked rapidly against the setting sun’s vibrant palette across the horizon, looking around.

”I call it ‘the King’s Quarters.’”

Lips parted slightly. His navy eyes swept across the alcove of rocks, stopping at the two smaller caves before sweeping up the length of the impressively large tree. Its stalwart presence was a statement to its integrity against the sea’s salty onslaught to the cliffs. Slowly, with a glance towards Rexanna, he began to walk into the alcove, stopping first to peer into the small caves, seeing the small beds so painstakingly made.

And, despite the gratified awe that swelled in his chest at what his love had done, his chest tightened slightly. Only one of their children was there to live in the home she had created. And it was hard not to hate blame himself for that. As time wore away his understanding with claws made of malice, it was becoming harder to not blame her. Not for losing their son, but for not living in the Edge so that he could ensure that Kianzo would not have been lost.

So, instead of dwelling further on the bittersweetness of the paired front caves, his long strides carried him beyond them and past the threshold of their new home. His ears tilted back, to listen for her hooves against the stone, following his. But his eyes and attention were sweeping the roots that arched over the entrance, and then flickered to the fresh edges of large roots, obviously recently cut away by caring and loving attention to their comfort in this new home. He saw their bed, so much larger and filled with leaves, needles, and feathers—a proper place to sleep as compared to his bachelor-pad pine nest. He saw even the two smaller places for Mbwene and Marembo.

And his eyes swept back to hers, wide and warm (but not entirely devoid of the sadness that had lanced into them from the thoughts of their missing son). He stepped closer, “Rexanna, I—“ his voice failed him, it had been long years since someone had done something like this for the King. So, instead, he closed his eyes and slipped his muzzle over her withers, holding her, as his lips rumbled against her skin, “Thank you.”

Mbwene, who had been admiring her new bed, glanced towards the couple. She knew that feeling that pulsed from her bonded, and so she began to slip out of the cave—not before sending a wave of irritation to the King. Not even ten minutes, and already she was being booted for the proverbial ‘sock on the door.’