Gron's Fated

by V. C. Lancaster

  “What are you doing here?” Gron demanded. “Did you give this to Ruth?”

  Troii looked ashamed. “I did.”

  “Why?”

  The tip of Troii’s tail flicked uncomfortably. “I have no tribe. I have no Queen. Grasta already believes I belong to Gruth. I thought...” He trailed off despondently.

  “Gruth will not take another male. You told me so yourself,” Gron reminded him.

  “She doesn’t have to take me as she does you. It would be enough just to join your tribe as an unBonded male,” Troii insisted.

  “No, it wouldn’t. That is why Grasta cast you out. You want to be Bonded, just like Kranu,” Gron told him.

  “Fine, then as a Guard, or-”

  “Where is Kranu?” Gron demanded. “Mruin is worried.”

  Troii hesitated. “He is determined to find a Queen who will Bond him. He is going to wander the borderlands until he finds one. I convinced him to wait, but if I do not return to him soon, he will leave me behind, I am sure of it.”

  “So you came here to try your chances with Gruth before you left,” Gron accused.

  “Gron... I meant no harm...”

  “No, you hoped Gruth would choose you before I found out,” Gron insisted angrily, making the other male flinch, but Troii looked and sounded so pathetic that Gron could not stay angry. It was an impossible situation to be in. Find a family, travel the wilds with Kranu of all people, or be alone. He rumbled sympathetically, but Troii’s new duplicity angered him. “Troii, we have always been friends, but I am done making Gruth’s decisions for her.”

  Gron stepped aside and gestured to Troii to Ruth. She looked confused and stepped closer to her mate, turning her body away from Troii. Gron tried not to delight in it too much.

  “You see? Perhaps it is too early for her to take another male, but for whatever reason, it seems she will not, and I cannot make her do it. You cannot stay here and watch me with her, or it will drive you mad. You are too good of a male to end up as angry as Kranu, and I do not want to think of you alone. Go with him, then perhaps you can do him some good. Spend a couple seasons looking for your own happiness. Then, if you have not found a Queen of your own, I will welcome you into this tribe. Gruth may not have you, but you will have a home, and be safe,” Gron offered.

  It was true that he would much rather have Troii in the tribe with him, than condemn his friend to a life of lonely wandering and madness. But it couldn’t be now. His new tribe needed time to settle. He and Ruth needed to enjoy a calm life. Everything was still too new for Troii to be among them.

  “Thank you, Gron, I will remember that,” Troii said. “It is generous of you and I am touched. I wish none of this had happened between us. Truly. I hate that - but it doesn’t change anything. I shall do as you say, and go with Kranu. Hopefully I will survive, and we will keep each other sane. I hope the Mother Goddess allows our paths to cross again,” he finished, looking terrified of the daunting task ahead of him, before forcing himself to turn and disappear into the trees.

  Gron looked at Ruth, wondering not for the first time just how much she understood of what was happening around her. He wanted to protect her from the truth of the impact her arrival had had among his people, and he also wanted to believe that if she knew what Troii faced she would help him, but he couldn’t help being glad that she allowed the other male to leave.

  Letting her under his arm, he turned her back to the clearing, leaving Troii to his journey.

  Chapter 22

  The new tribe of Gron’s family quickly fell into an easy and companionable routine. Gryla revelled in returning to some of her old duties that she had held when she was the alpha Queen, like patrolling, policing the other tribe members, and some simple decision making. It was a small miracle that she seemed to realise it was at Gron’s discretion, acting on Ruth’s behalf, that she was allowed to do this, and so she did not overstep her bounds when it came to the newly Bonded couple. Gryla reigned over her mates and youngest son, Ruth ruled over Gron, and they managed to exist perfectly peacefully.

  The days were spent in simple pursuits, such as weaving baskets or fashioning other tools, collecting food and water, or bathing, which Ruth enjoyed every day, sometimes even washing her hair or the fabric she wore, or tempting Gron into the water with her. Ruth’s basket weaving improved, and the tribe taught her much of what they knew of how to survive.

  Even though the language barrier remained in place, they often sat together in the clearing, Gron free to talk to his family, and touch his mate, and she did not seem to be lonely or feeling excluded. His Queen would watch whoever was speaking, and bare her teeth when something amused her, and occasionally offer something in her own language. One day, after much toil, she triumphantly held up a sharpened stone, which she demonstrated by thrusting it sharply into a watershell to pierce it, wiggling it out again so that she could drink. They all congratulated her on her accomplishment, and she seemed to understand. She kept the stone tied to her fabric coverings at all times after that.

  The sun shone warmly every day, and after a while Ruth left off the larger covering, wearing only the small ones. It didn’t make much difference, only her stomach, shoulders and back were exposed by this change, but Gron still felt a little possessive stirring when he looked at her. He knew his family, especially Mruin, were curious about her peltless, tailless body, and now they could see just how bare she looked in the sun, see the bumps of her spine when she bent over, and the small notch of her belly button. But he got used to it after a few days, when there was no sign of his family reacting in any threatening way.

  At night, Ruth would stroke her hands over his body and let him do the same. Sometimes they would mate and sometimes they would not. Sometimes she threw her leg over his hips and mount him and sometimes she would pull him down on top of her. They used their hands and their mouths on each other. Once, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leapt to wrap her legs around him, forcing him to put his hands under her to support her. She pointed to a tree, and it must have been a sign of their connection that he knew what she wanted.

  Gron thought they were comfortable and blissfully happy. This was the life he had hoped for. They were safe, happy, well-fed and well-slept and in the sunshine and fresh air every day. No one was interfering or challenging him, questioning what he and Ruth had or how he behaved around her, or trying to get between them. He finally had the confidence to tell his parents they were wrong if they suggested he do something differently, instead of letting it into his mind to make him wonder, and there was no misunderstanding between him and Ruth to set them at odds with each other.

  Except once, when Ruth became ill and would not be touched. She lay on the platform under her fabric covering for the entire day, looking pale and acting very irritably. His mother diagnosed that she must be in her bleeding time, but Ruth would not let him touch her for many days, instead of just the one or two that Gryla predicted. It made Gron increasingly worried, and he made sure she always had plenty of food and watershells.

  When he decided it had gone on too long and something was wrong, he tried to take her fabric thing away from her to check on her body but she gripped it hard and fought him. Fine. He moved to pick her up, fabric and all, to take her down for his mother to look at, but she kicked him away, speaking angrily to him. He whined, feeling helpless and rejected, and she evidently took pity on him because she reached for his hand and pressed it to her lips and pulled him down to lie behind her.

  When more days than he had fingers on one hand had gone by, she recovered, and came to him very sweetly to make it up to him, so he felt better after that.

  They didn’t see Troii again, and heard nothing of Kranu. Gron didn’t tell his parents he had seen Troii. They already knew Kranu would be searching for a Queen, it would only make them worry more to think that Troii had been ready to let him do it alone. As the days passed and his relationship with Ruth strengthened, and his brother was no longer there to be unpleasan
t, Gron began to worry too. Not to the point that he wished he had shared Ruth with his brother, or welcomed him into the new tribe, but he sent a wish to the Mother Goddess that Kranu find a Queen to take control of him and calm him down, and that he would be satisfied in his new life. It was not in Gron’s nature to wish for even Kranu to be left alone to go mad in the wilds.

  Gron was convinced that their troubles were over. He walked with a spring in his step, and couldn’t remember ever being happier. He had long stopped thinking of Ruth as an alien, but maybe he should have, as it might have kept him on guard. Life with Ruth was easy, but he should have remembered that life with an alien Queen had its troubles. She was not his kind, they had both been taken by others who were more different still. It would have done him good to remember those others.

  This was what he was thinking in hindsight, after one day took Ruth away from him.

  They were deep in the forest, having wandered from the village to bathe and gather food. It had been another playful morning, Ruth had taken her time to tease Gron into the bathing pool he had found for her, and he had made a half-hearted show of not wanting to go. He was learning not to mind getting his fur wet. The days were getting warmer now, and the cool water felt good. Plus, he had never successfully avoided going in the water when Ruth wanted him to, not once, so he recognised that resistance was futile. These days he joined her in the water after only a token battle, and then insisted she wash his tail and let him wash her back.

  They had wandered further still, having nothing more important to do that day than explore, careful not to go in the direction of Grasta’s territory or to leave the boundaries of the territory Gryla had marked out for them. Gron walked a little ahead, keeping an ear pricked for Ruth’s movements behind him, so he noticed when she stopped suddenly with a gasp. Turning to make sure she hadn’t stepped on something and hurt her foot, he saw her looking around frantically. He approached, concerned, and she grabbed his arm tightly, pointing into the woods and whispering.

  Gron looked but he couldn’t see anything. Everything looked normal, from the golden sunlight filtering through the canopy, the verdant leaves, and the shadows in the distant underbrush. He looked back to Ruth, confused, but she was obviously terrified. She still pointed, panicked, then changed to shoving him towards the nearest tree. He didn’t get it.

  Ruth made a frustrated noise, pressing her lips together and rocking on her toes impatiently. She looked over her shoulder, then back at Gron, then made a quick decision, looking torn. She turned and raced off through the trees. Gron did not hesitate, quickly catching her, but every time he did she fought herself free and took off again, shouting.

  Gron almost stumbled when he realised she was screaming his little brother’s name. It had taken him a moment because her pronunciation was different, but once he heard it, he couldn’t un-hear it. Why? Mruin was nowhere nearby. Ruth and Mruin had no relationship to speak of as far as Gron knew.

  Then Ruth began screaming the names of his parents. What was going on?

  Gron followed her through the forest, keeping up but letting her run as she clearly did not want to be stopped. He’d couldn’t remember ever seeing her this agitated, possibly not since the cell when the strangers had cut her coverings off.

  The clearing was just up ahead. That was where his parents would be, at least his fathers if his mother was patrolling the territory. Just as it came into sight, a dark shape to the side caught Gron’s eye, a large, black and purple shape.

  The Eater.

  Gron’s heartbeat ratcheted up painfully as he saw it. Now he had to catch Ruth, and get her high up and safe. He put on a burst of speed, but he had let her get ahead, and she was moments away from the clearing. Gron saw the Eater’s massive head turn to look at her, its yellow eyes locking onto her, then snatching away again to focus into the clearing. Mruin was standing a little way away from the tree line, totally oblivious, watching Ruth come screaming towards him. Behind him, Gron saw his fathers drop to the forest floor, alerted by Ruth’s screaming.

  “No! Get back in the trees! The Eater is here!” Gron shouted, but they didn’t hear him over Ruth’s screaming.

  The Eater glanced at them again, its mouth opening in a snarl to reveal those jagged teeth, then its shoulders bunched and its paws shifted ready to pounce on its target just as Ruth made the clearing.

  Gron watched Ruth collide with Mruin, making him stumble back. The Eater was in the air. Gron recalculated. It was too late to get Ruth to safety. He had to aim for the Eater now.

  The Eater hit Ruth, taking her to the ground. Gron hit the Eater, sinking his long canines into its shoulder and hanging on. The beast let out a yowl of pain, and Gron wrapped his arms around its ribcage. He couldn’t reach all the way around to crush it, but he did his best to restrict its breathing.

  The Eater was bigger than him, much heavier and longer with sharp claws and teeth. The best he could hope for was to distract it for a couple of moments so that Ruth could get away.

  The Eater tried to throw him off, and Gron felt his neck and shoulders wrench as he refused to let go. All he could see was the creature’s mottled black fur, but it shrieked again, and the beast suddenly seemed weighed-under, struggling to stand. Gron took advantage of the moment of weakness to move his hold to the monster’s neck to strangle it, knowing that if he took his teeth out of its shoulder he would be thrown off in an instant. He could tell his teeth hadn’t hit bone, so he had accomplished nothing more than a flesh wound.

  He heard his mother’s roar rip through the forest, and suddenly the Eater collapsed with a crack of bone. Gron tried to see what was happening, moving his face just enough to see from the corner of his eye that his mother had jumped feet first onto the beast’s hips which had buckled under her weight, and she was now wrenching strips of fur from the creature’s back with her hands, her face wild and teeth bared. Across the Eater’s back, Gron could see Griss was ripping bloody chunks out of its side with his jaws, and Brur had done the same as his son, sunk his tusks deep and held on tight.

  Encouraged by his family’s furious attacks, not seeing how the Eater could possibly hurt them now, Gron dislodged his tusks and bit hard into the beast’s neck instead, over and over until everywhere within reach was just a bloody pulp dripping onto the ground.

  The Eater was howling and screaming and twisting in their hold, but it wasn’t a match for the four of them, and Gron could physically feel it weakening, its strength pouring out of it with its blood. Gron felt horrible, feeling it be killed under him, but it was that or allow it to take Ruth, or Mruin, or any of the others. His brother and his best friend were out in the wild, they would not have been able to fight it off if it attacked them. This thing had killed countless of his people, throughout all the tribes. This could be the end of it.

  “Gron!”

  Mruin’s panicked scream cut through the Eater’s dying yowls and his parents’ snarls, instantly stealing Gron’s attention. He raised his head and saw his brother kneeling by Ruth’s white and red body lying on her side, her eyes watching him, dim and heavy.

  He almost threw the Eater away from him as he rushed to his Queen, leaving the monster to his parents to dispatch.

  Gron collapsed to the ground next to Ruth. There were long, deep gouges in the soft tender flesh of her stomach, and one side of her chest and shoulder were a funny shape, like they had been crushed. Her fingers stretched out to him and he grabbed her hand. She looked at him and he knew it was bad because she didn’t seem to be in pain. She was covered in blood. Mruin looked terrified and lost, his hands hovering over her uncertainly.

  “Gruth,” Gron forced out, the only word he knew she understood, the only thing he could say that they shared, wishing he had more.

  The fingers of the hand he was holding stroked weakly over his wrist while her darkening eyes stared at his face as if she was memorising it. “Gron,” she replied, obviously making a supreme effort, her voice a painful rasp, her body locked. She didn
’t seem to be breathing. He realised his name would probably be the last word she ever said.

  Her face was surprisingly expressionless. He bent his head to press his lips to hers one last time, even though his mouth was full of blood, but she disappeared before he reached her.

  Chapter 23

  “Well, that was reckless.”

  Ruth did not appreciate T’Lax’s opinion on this matter, but she held her tongue, instead scooping more of the nutritional porridge sludge into her mouth. It had been roughly a week since she had, perhaps a little short-sightedly, saved Mruin from the nasty cat-beast terrorising the Gandry. She’d heard the thing talking about how it was going to eat him, knew that she had very little time to do anything to prevent him being killed and eaten, and had made a decision. She didn’t exactly regret it; as far as she could remember, she had pushed Mruin out of the way, but it would have been nice if she hadn’t then been mauled in his place.

  She knew T’lax was waiting for her to justify her actions somehow, but she wasn’t going to. She could say that he was her mate’s little brother, that their tribe was small and needed every member, that she didn’t want to deal with the grief it would cause his family, that she liked Mruin and wanted him for herself, but she hadn’t thought any of that at the time.

  She had known what was going to happen, known no one else was going to do anything, and made the difficult decision to risk her life to do something about it herself. She supposed her motivation at the time, knowing full well that she would probably die, had been that she wouldn’t be able to live with the memory of deciding to do nothing. She couldn’t have loved Gron if she knew she had allowed his little brother to die. She had thought T’Lax was too big of a secret to keep, but that one she couldn’t have lived with.

  So now here she was, in a hospital bed, in a hospital gown, on an alien spaceship orbiting a planet on which her alien husband lived, and was presumably immobile with grief if she knew Gron at all, so she was really determined to be released early for good behaviour. T’lax had beamed her up and rushed her into surgery and saved her life, but she didn’t think Gron would come to that conclusion on his own, and since she felt fine, she wanted to get back and put him out of his misery. The poor guy must be going crazy.