There was a heavy thump of silence, before Kranu acquiesced. “Fine,” he spat, wiping blood from his mouth. He shouldered angrily through his tribesmen and marched into the trees.
“Grasta-” Gryla began.
The alpha cut her off. “You would have done worse, Gryla, you know that.” Gryla did not argue, though her two Prime Fathers stood behind her with their hands on her back, saddened and dejected as their family was torn apart. “You are free to do as you wish. If you follow them, I will not stop you,” Grasta added.
Gryla dipped her head in acceptance. “Come, Mruin,” she said, gesturing her youngest son to follow, before leading her family to where Ruth and Gron were standing, caught as they left.
That felt like the end of it, but Grasta called out again. “Troii, come before me.”
A palpable ripple of curiosity and surprise went through the gathering. Troii had nothing to do with this. Troii had always been a good, respectable male.
It took a moment, but a pale Troii eventually stepped forward. Grasta turned to him as he stood before her, towering over him. She lay her hand gently on his cheek. “You have always been a good member of my tribe, Troii,” she said. “But you are not mine anymore.”
Almost immediately, Troii tried to object, but Grasta wouldn’t let him. “I can feel it. I can see it in your eyes. You want more now, and if you stay here, you will finish like Kranu. I shouldn’t have let it go on as long as I did with him, and I do not want to see the same thing happen to you. I will not have you stay so that you can be unhappy, and fill up with rage and dissatisfaction where now is filled with honour and wisdom. You have to go. I will not allow you to stay.”
“Grasta, no, please, I-” Troii pleaded, but again Grasta cut him off.
“I said I will not allow you to stay. I wish you well,” she said before separating from him.
He struggled, dumbfounded, with this new situation for a moment, before slowly turning on Gron. “You did this,” he said. “This is your fault, you made me - You made me think - And now... Look what you have cost me. You have cost me everything!” he cried. “And why? For what? You won’t share her, why did you pretend-?” He visibly swallowed anything else he might have said, trying to get himself under control. His tail lashed, then he looked over his shoulder, into the woods where Kranu had gone. He cast one last look at Gron and the small tribe of his family, then turned and ran the opposite way, after Kranu.
Grasta looked at Gron. “Go now. And don’t come back,” she ordered, her voice clear and her spine straight.
Gron turned and allowed Ruth to lead him away, into the forest and towards their new home.
Chapter 20
Ruth, Gron, and his family trudged through the woods, silent from shock. Gron’s body was hurting now, and all he could think about was how much damage he had caused to the people he cared about, and how they must be feeling about him in that moment.
They reached the platform he had built for him and Ruth, and Gryla looked around approvingly. “This is a good place for a small tribe,” she said, almost surprised at her son’s success. It was the first time any of them had spoken on the journey there, and Gron was just glad it wasn’t anything more hurtful.
Ruth still held his hand, looking at him with concern written plainly on her face. She allowed him to help her up to the platform where he sat gingerly against the trunk of the tree, trying to find a position that didn’t press on one of his wounds. At least he had no serious injuries, despite Kranu’s best attempts.
His family followed them up to the platform and stood about awkwardly while Ruth went to her knees and began digging through her bag, pulling out her container of water and some fabric. She wet the fabric, then began wiping the blood off him and cleaning his wounds as gently as she could, while Gron tried not to let the pain show. For a moment, they sat quietly, him watching her care for him, until Mruin spoke.
“Did you really do it?” he asked.
Gron looked up at his family. The platform wasn’t really big enough for all of them. It was a nice size for him and his Queen, not his whole family who were now, he supposed, also his whole tribe.
“Did I do what?” he replied, exhausted.
“Did you really m-mount her?” Mruin pushed.
Gron glanced at Ruth, though of course she did not react. “Does it matter?” he said.
Brur took a tentative step forward. “Gron... Kranu said you were holding her down. He said he heard her screaming...”
Gron cut a hard look at his father, sick of their meddling. He wanted to be alone with Ruth. “And you believed him?” he growled.
Brur looked suitably chastised, dropping his gaze and retreating. It felt like every hour, Gron was more of a mate and less of a son. He had just fought his older brother, and now he was asserting dominance over his own parents. It would have been unthinkable to him. But now he had Ruth to care for and he was the only one who could do it right, and he would not tolerate anyone getting in his way.
“You are both my sons,” Gryla argued. It wasn’t often that she acted the mother instead of the Queen, so much so that it was easy to forget that she cared for her family as well as ruled them.
Gron turned back to watching Ruth. She was the only one he could look at without becoming angry, or guilty, or sad. “I have never forced her to do anything. I would never hurt her. She is my Queen, I serve her. She is everything to me,” he told them.
As if feeling the weight of his stare, Ruth glanced up from his body and pulled her lips tight briefly, almost nervously. Before she looked back at the cut she was cleaning, she sneaked a surreptitious look at Gron’s family, and he saw that she didn’t understand why they were there, and didn’t feel safe with them watching her.
That was fair, after what had just happened. She had seen his own blood kin attack him and she had defended him. He wished he could send them away so she could feel safe, but they had left the tribe for him. Now that he and Ruth had been banished from the tribe, it would be safer for them all if they stayed together.
It wouldn’t be the new tribe he had envisioned for Ruth when he built the platform, but in many ways, it was better. Gron loved his family – most of the time – and he would continue to need their guidance. Any wandering Queen would hesitate to threaten a tribe with two Queens, even if one was old and one was small. Their tribe would benefit from his parents’ experience. And the only unBonded male was Mruin, who was still a bit too young to be Bonded. It would be years before Gron would have to worry about Ruth choosing him.
He wondered about Kranu, and Troii. They had no tribe now, and no Queen to protect them. Kranu had been forced away from his own family and everything he had ever known, but he would have gone on his own eventually anyway. Troii had never asked for any of it. Did his friend hate him now? Did Troii and Kranu get on well enough that they would be able to stay together, or would Kranu’s bad temperament drive Troii away, until they were both utterly alone? His kind did not fare well on their own, Gron thought morbidly. With no tribe to belong to, the toll of solitude weighed too heavily on their minds.
“I can see from the way she is touching you that she is not afraid of you. She cares for you, and she was brave in the village. She is a good Queen, despite her size,” Gryla agreed, though she sounded sad. “I would not have followed you if I believed what Kranu said.”
Gron hesitated, but he decided he should be honest. If his family were going to live with them as a tribe, he didn’t want to have to hide or excuse how he and Ruth pleasured each other. His family had to understand that Ruth was different from their ways, and he was different too because of her, and he revelled in it.
“He told the truth. I did mount her. I did not hurt her, but I did mount her.” He tried to ignore the way his parents stiffened in shock. “It was the second time I have done so. She pulls me down on top of her and holds me there. I would not do it if she did not want, but I do not feel bad for it either. I enjoy it as I enjoy all of her gifts.”
“Gruth is not like us. If you are going to live with her, you must understand that. It is useless thinking that she believes the same things we do, and I will have no criticism of her. She is my Queen, and my whole life,” Gron explained.
Ruth had glanced up at hearing her name, but went back to work soon after, and had now finished cleaning what she could of him. She put her wet cloth down, and dug a small tube out of her bag. She squeezed a clear gel from the tube, and dabbed it on his wounds.
Gron let her do it, though he didn’t know what it was. It looked harmless, and he was familiar with medicinal poultices and such. He was surprised when it didn’t sting and had only a faint scent. He knew she was doing what she felt was necessary to care for him, and while he believed he would have healed just fine without her attention, there was no point in stopping her, and he loved the reminder that he mattered to her.
Griss stepped up to Gryla’s shoulder, touching her gently to get her attention. “We should build a platform for the night,” he said, ever thinking of her needs, and this time thinking of his son’s as well. Griss recognised that Gron and Ruth needed space and privacy, and attempting to have the whole family sleep on one platform would not improve the tense emotional situation.
“I will help you,” volunteered Brur, following Griss off the platform. Gryla would let her males do the work, but already the platform felt less crowded and suffocating.
“I will make sure we are safe here,” Gryla offered eventually, clearly looking for an excuse to leave after her son laid down the law. It made sense, it was what she would have done when she was Queen, and a lot of those old responsibilities like patrolling the perimeter of the territory would fall to her again now. Gron did not think she would mind reliving her glory days. Her retirement had been perhaps a bit too relaxing for her.
Gron let his eyes fall closed, and nuzzled Ruth’s hair as she knelt next to him, taking a moment to enjoy her small fingers working on him. He heard Mruin step closer and kneel at his feet. Gron did not move his head, but he did open his eyes, alarmed at how close Mruin must be to Ruth.
“Is she nice?”
Gron heard his brother’s whispered question and brought his face out from behind Ruth’s head so he could judge his expression. Mruin was looking at Ruth openly, with an expression of curiosity, fear and awe. His eyes flicked to Gron as if to prompt him to answer.
“Yes, she is.” So far, Gron had only seen her be nice to him, but he believed that she was nevertheless a good person and would be nice to them all if she could talk to them.
“Is it fun being Bonded?” Mruin asked, turning to face Gron, his deep eyes glinting with curiosity.
Gron flicked his tail uncomfortably. He did not like where this conversation was going. “Why don’t you ask our fathers?”
“You can’t trust what they say when Mother might hear,” Mruin replied, perceptively.
Gron considered his answer carefully. He didn’t want Mruin to now decide he wanted to be Bonded too, but he didn’t want his brother to think he was unhappy when he was so blessed. “It is the biggest change anyone can go through,” he settled on eventually. “I do not regret it, but it scared me at first. Even now, it makes me do things I never thought I would do, to stay by her side and keep her safe. I can’t be happy without her now.”
“Like fight Kranu, you mean?”
“Kranu antagonised me into it, but yes. Before I met Gruth, I would have let him win just to avoid the fight.”
Mruin dropped his eyes then, picking some dirt from the pelt on his leg. “Do you think Kranu will be all right?”
Gron felt a surge of sympathy for Mruin. The boy was still young, but he was watching his older siblings tear his family apart, unable to do anything. Their sister had left first, seasons ago. Then Gron had disappeared with no word, and now Kranu was banished and his family had uprooted to form a new tribe, leaving everything behind, and Mruin had done nothing to deserve any of it. Of course the boy was worried about Kranu, he had not struggled with him the way Gron had as there were too many years between them and Gron had always kept Kranu occupied. Gron realised that perhaps Mruin had grown closer to Kranu while he had been taken, thinking he had only one brother left.
“If Kranu finds the Queen he is looking for, he will be fine. If he does not...” It will be because he is an insufferable bully. “He will keep trying. Have you ever known Kranu to give up?”
Gron tried to sound optimistic, and Mruin seemed reassured, so Gron wanted to send him on his way before he asked any more difficult questions. “Why don’t you go and make sure there’s enough food for us here?” he said. It was rhetorical, since Gron had been pretty thoroughly through the immediate area and knew there was enough food for all of them if they were prepared to look for it, but it would keep his brother busy to look and feel useful. He could bring food to their parents as they worked.
Mruin put a hand to his stomach as if remembering it was there, and scuttled off the platform obligingly. At least Gron could always count on growing youngsters to be hungry.
Once they were finally, finally alone, Gron looked to Ruth again, and found she was already watching him. She was still worried, he could see it shining in her eyes. Funnily enough, he wasn’t scared about what might happen to them or what their lives would be. They were together, they were alone but he could still hear the voices of his parents and the occasional rustle of leaves as his fathers built their own platform. It was comforting to have a tribe, even if it was also irritating. He didn’t have to worry about Ruth anymore, not as much as he did. He didn’t worry about her taking any more males, at least not then.
He leant down slowly and pressed their lips together the way she liked, and she tilted her head to meet him. When he gave her space again to check her expression, she pushed her container of water and a small, edged piece of food into his hands. She was still taking care of him, it seemed. He looped his tail around her arm and ran it all the way down to her fingers in one smooth motion to thank her, then ate.
Chapter 21
Their first night as a new tribe was mercifully quiet. His family did not come back to his and Ruth’s platform, and they were able to sleep in each other’s arms, though Gron had to settle down carefully now that he had so many bruises, and Ruth had fussed over him with her large fabric covering, offering him water and food until she was forced to stop by the light fading.
The next morning was blissfully simple as well. They gathered food stores and finished the platforms, Gron bending branches into place at intervals down the tree trunk so that Ruth could climb down without his help. She seemed ecstatic with that development, babbling loudly and clapping her hands against him and baring all her teeth. She hurried up and down several times, faster each time, only stopping when she slipped on one of the branches and Gron’s heart almost stopped. He pulled her down and carried her away, grumbling, but she just ran her hands over his neck and shoulders and kissed his face and beamed.
His tail flung well within her reach just in case, but in the end he put her down by some fruit-bearing bushes and set her to food gathering like the rest of them, trying with a stern look to tell her to stay there. She reached her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, but instead of pressing their lips together, she fit her chin over his shoulder and squeezed him for a moment, whispering something soft in his ear.
Confusing.
Ruth let him go and turned to the bushes and began helping herself to the fruit, pulling the fabric she was wearing up to make an improvised basket. Gron could see she was wearing more of the small garments around her hips, black this time. She turned and caught him looking and gave him a playful kick with her heel to send him on his way, and he dutifully returned to his tasks.
For a while, Gron ferried food from the forest back to their small village, helping his parents reinforce their platform, or weaving baskets. Mruin wanted to build his ow
n platform too, apparently deciding he was too old to share with their parents, and receiving no complaints from them, so they all helped him with that. Gron kept an eye out for Ruth as she made trips back to the clearing to empty her haul into one of the baskets.
Gron was on the forest floor, going to look for better leaves and vines for Mruin, when Ruth approached him, a watershell in her hands. Gone was her happy demeanour, instead she looked troubled. As she reached him, she held out the watershell she was carrying. Gron nearly took it from her, thinking she was thirsty and needed him to pierce it for her, but then he saw it was already pierced, and full, so not the discarded shell of an earlier one.
He looked at her, his brows drawing down, and Ruth pointed back the way she came, into the trees. There was another of his kind out there, he was sure, and it sent a chill down his spine that whoever it was had approached Ruth but not the tribe. They had given her a gift, a simple one though it was, so they could be friendly, but it was more likely they looked to curry her favour in a way that was to Gron’s disadvantage.
Perhaps it was just a member of Grasta’s tribe passing through, he thought to himself as he moved to investigate. An envoy sent to make peace with a nearby Queen. Still it made him uneasy that they had come so close to Ruth and had yet to show themselves in the clearing.
Gron walked carefully into the forest, not knowing what he was going to meet. Ruth followed behind, and he made sure she stayed behind him. Not far away he spotted the shape of a male, recognising Troii as he called his name.
Gron’s first instinct was to snarl, but he held back. Troii was not Kranu. They had been good friends for years, and Troii had never done anything to hurt him. Gron was responsible for the other male being made tribe-less, and while he might have run after Gron’s brother the day before, he was here now.
“Gron,” Troii greeted him, his face drawn and his tail limp.
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