Mdakata stared up at the clear night sky. Stars glittered there like sunlight sparkling off of the wind-tossed surface of a lake. As if mirroring the twinkling above, tears shone unshed in her eyes. A frigid wind ruffled across her, tossing her headfur and dashing the tears from her eyes. Undaunted, her gaze remained on those mysterious, magnificent points of light that floated high above.
She was alone. Even though her mate had died months before, the truth of her solitariness was coming home to her during this cold season, the season he had ruled. It was further finalized in the form of changes that would soon be announced. She swallowed, though it did very little to ease the tightness in her throat. She was alone, and wasn't entirely certain how to handle it... how to move on.
The matter of ruling the pride was honestly the easiest and simplest issue to come to terms with. It had been a painful heartache to be the interm ruler in place of her dead mate. She swallowed again and breathed deep and slow. It would be a relief to step down. Winter was likely going to be a bitter time for her for many years to come. This thought triggered a memory, a regret concerning another member of the pride who found the cold season emotionally difficult. Perhaps it would be wise to make the effort to go speak with Nishati. A sympathetic and understanding ear could bring comfort where little else had.
She would keep herself busy, however, assisting the new rulers in a position that was, to be perfectly honest, created for her benefit. Others would eventually be granted the position for each of the clans, but for now it would be just her. She felt mildly amused by this creation, but also grateful that her days would be busy and full. That was her best defense against the grief right now. Night was when it became most difficult, when she was idle, all was quiet, and sorrow rose to drown her. Needless to say, she hadn't been sleeping very well, if at all, since that fatful summer storm.
It was just as well that they had never become parents, she told herself bitterly, turning away from the stars at last. She would not have been a very good or attentive mother these last months, or even here and now. Despite her mental assertions of this nature, she also mourned that lost opportunity. She had not realized how badly she wanted to be a mother... not until the chance was gone. Not only that, but it also meant she had no small, warm, fuzzy reminder of the wonderful male she had given her heart to... and lost. The world around her blurred as the tears welled faster than the wind could sweep them away.
"Why must you cry, beautiful lady?" The voice came out of the night, soft and warm despite the freezing wind and snow. It was soothing rather than startling, gentle instead of frightening. Even so, she turned her head away, hiding tears that only fell faster, her heart squeezing with all the supressed and unacknowledged pain. A dark form padded softly through the snow, making little noise, though his breath plumed fancifully from his nostrils. He drew close, his shadow soft-edged in the starlit night. "Please, I wish to help," he said softly as he leaned close. "What could make such tears?"
Though she should have fled... though she could have given him a cold and queenly edge... though he was a stranger, she at last reluctantly turned towards him, her head lowered so that her tears traced icy lines down her muzzle. "It... it is more than I could tell," she whispered, feeling as if she must burst for all the grief that rushed to the surface in the presence of this dark stranger. Her throat closed then, and she shook her head, scattering tears that glittered like diamonds as they flew. A warm paw reached around her and drew her close. Though the gesture could have been intrusive, should have been uncomfortable, it had a simple offer of comfort that undid her. So many had mourned with her, and ached for her, but none had held her. None had offered plain, straight-forward comfort. Perhaps it was her rank, or perhaps she had held them at arms length. Whatever the reason, it was this unknown male's mane she buried her face in and finally gave wailing vent to all the sorrow of her heart.
For a long while he let her cry, listened to the rise and fall of her howls and keenings. How they tore at his heart! To the rest of the world he might appear stoic and mild, but still waters ran deep within Eloran. He felt the fiery heat of her breath mingle with the dampness of her tears beneath his mane. He held her close as she moaned words into his fur that he could not understand, and kept her warm as the fervor began to wane, and she began to shiver.
At last he gently tipped her face from his mane, still keeping her close to give her as much body heat as he could. She was shaking more violently now, and he knew she needed shelter far more than tears just now. "Come lady," he rumbled quietly, "there must be somewhere near that you call your den. Let me take you home." She blinked tears from her slowly freezing lashes. He was right, of course. She nodded, not daring to try and speak with her teeth chattering quite this much. Wordlessly, she turned towards home. Towards a new den, one that had never known the presence of the King. Towards a new beginning? Her tired, numbed brain shoved that thought away as she stumblingly led the way.
He saw her settled deep into the den, tucking furs close around her before settling into his own pile before her. "Now, will you share with me your sorrow?" he asked gently, his eyes looking deep into hers. More than anything, just now, he wanted to share her load, to take away some of the pain from this beautiful lioness. Later he would learn how important to this pride she was, how much she had held on her shoulders. For now, she was merely a heart in distress that he could not bear to watch struggle on alone.
"I... am alone," she finally managed to get out, eyes closing against the pain. Such an emptiness inside! But even as she felt the echoing chasm in her heart, a flicker of something else made itself known. She did not give it a name, nor try to deny its existence. That flicker was the tiniest of flames, giving off incredible warmth of spirit for something so very small. She swallowed and breathed deep, though this time instead of the sharp smell of snow, she inhaled the scent of the furs, and of the male before her. Instead of the biting cold, she felt the heat of comfort and companionship.
"Not alone, beautiful lady," he rumbled from across the way. She opened her eyes to regard him, unaware of how vulnerable and pleading her expression was. "You have this pride, for starters," he said sincerely, tossing his nose towards the distant entrance to the den. He was right, of course. Perhaps she had lost her mate, but she was by no means uncared for, by no means completely bereft. Her heart rebelled at the idea, but she had to be practical and at least begin to admit that she had rebuffed all efforts to provide her with her needs, emotional and otherwise. Her pride was good, and she loved them for their care for her.
"Certainly someone here must care for you," he continued, unconsciously echoing her thoughts. She gave him a shaky smile that still held the promise of tears. Ah, what could he do? How could he leave such a needful and hurting soul as she here alone? "And now you have someone new who cares for you," he admitted slowly. It was almost reluctance, but not quite. He had never chosen a pride to settle down in, never cared to be bound to one place. But here was a reason he might give up that freedom. A warm, open, sensitive reason that gazed at him with shining, deep purple eyes. He could no more leave her now than if his paws had sunk into the rock beneath him. He breathed deep, realizing the kind of choice he was making for a strange, enticing, and emotionally scarred female. "I will not leave you," he promised in a low voice, meeting her eyes. "Sleep tonight. I will watch over you."
She stared at him, uncomprehending in her raw state of how much he meant, how deep this felt to him. All she knew is that he gave comfort, felt safe, and was promising her something she needed this one night. Just this one night, she thought muzzily as she buried her muzzle into the furs. Just someone to watch over her, to keep the cold and the nightmares at bay. Just this... one... night.
Finally, for the first time since the storm, she fell into a deep, healing sleep.
