by Forthright
“Dad!” Gingko’s eyes were wide, but he was looking everywhere but at them. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to … interrupt.”
“Your timing is good,” Argent assured. “Tsumiko needs a break, and we are both hungry.”
Gingko’s tail was firmly tucked, and a flush crept across his face.
Tsumiko’s heart went out to her friend, but she didn’t know how to dispel the tension. Argent gave her hand a small squeeze and let go, moving to stand before his son.
“Tsk. Since when are you so shy? It is only natural for bondmates to form deepening attachments.” Argent prodded Gingko’s shoulder. “You will need to get used to such things. Especially if you continue to slip into our room at all hours through the window.”
At Gingko’s strangled noise of protest, Argent actually chuckled.
His son muttered and moped, but his ears and tail slowly lifted. And he finally made eye contact with Tsumiko. “Need anything?” he quietly asked.
“How’s Kyrie?”
“Little bro is fine. I’ll keep him with me tonight, so ….”
“That will do.” Without giving Gingko time to finish, Argent showed her the door to a tidy little water closet. “I will negotiate a schedule for visits from our sons while you refresh yourself.”
His longsuffering manner didn’t diminish her gratitude. Although his wording made her wonder just how long he planned to keep her here.
By the time she reemerged, Gingko was gone and a small feast was spread on a plank table. Argent gestured to the array with a flourish. “All the comforts of home.”
“We are home.” She smothered a smile. “Did you have to chase off Gingko?”
“If I must compete with my sons for your attention, then I will win.” He pulled a square stool into position for her, choosing an upturned bucket for himself. “We agreed upon times for covert familial interruptions.”
They lingered over the evening meal, the sun setting while Argent told a convoluted tale about the cleverness of foxes, who were said to be the first Amaranthine to remember their way back into human form. “This made us much sought after by other clans, who traded on their splendor and power for the secret. And landed foxes with a largely erroneous reputation as matchmakers.”
Tsumiko had to laugh at Argent’s expression of disdain. She asked, “How much of that was actually true?”
“Oral histories are prone to embellishment, especially when one’s grandfather has been at the star wine.”
“That legend was about your grandfather?”
“My maternal grandfather. And there is probably some truth amidst his little exaggerations. Mother confirmed that he was always an avid matchmaker, with a special fondness for taboo relationships.”
“Are matches between our races considered wrong?”
“Unusual, certainly, but not unknown.” Argent said, “Amaranthine do not choose bondmates from outside their own kind. But to hear my grandfather tell it, he is singlehandedly responsible for winged horses, gryphons, and some obscure creature known as a jackalope.”
They left the table, and Tsumiko brought out the comb.
With a soft rumble of acceptance, Argent drew her to a different spot in the garden, where a bench tucked under an arbor. Their arrival caused another small stir among the nocturnal Ephemera. They circled ever closer while she attended to his second tail.
Argent told her their name of each type and a little about how his collection started. Their hushed conversation gave new shape to the intimacy. Calm. Quiet. Tsumiko was certain that the contentment of this closeness was the feeling she would always associate with home.
Starlight wasn’t much for human eyes to see by. Argent lifted a hand, and several of the crystals Tsumiko had spied earlier lit up, illuminating the conservatory with a soft wash of pastel colors. And for her next lesson in foxish courtship, he taught her the steps to a traditional dance. The patterns were complex, but the pace only strolled. Argent guided each press of palms and pivot, humming lightly under his breath. With his coaching, she could—mostly—keep up. Circling and skipping. Linked arms and matched strides. Hops and twirling flourishes.
She was having fun.
And judging by Argent’s soft expression, so was he.
It didn’t take long for Tsumiko to come to the conclusion that courting games were usually excuses to kiss. Similarly, most courting gifts held traditional meanings that ranged from sweet to salacious.
The moon was high overhead when Argent perched sedately on a stone pedestal that allowed his tails to sway temptingly into reach.
“Which one?” she asked.
Argent flicked the tip of one tail along her arm. “The last.”
“Best for last?” she asked lightly.
“You are.”
Feeling rather daring, Tsumiko mingled combing with tending.
Claws scraped stone as Argent steadied himself, but his posture gradually shifted. Back arched, arms braced, head thrown back, he fairly vibrated under her touch.
When Tsumiko quietly declared the tail finished, he seemed to melt off his seat, sliding to the grass and sinking all the way to his knees. Arms around her waist, he hid his face against his midriff and mumbled something.
“What?”
He peered up at her through his lashes and earnestly repeated, “You are my choice.”
That’s when she finally understood how much meaning those four words held. Caressing his hair, she said, “I love you, too.”
Argent’s arms tightened. “My second wish.”
Tsumiko nodded. “Yes?”
“Go change.” He rolled to his feet.
“Into what?” They hadn’t exactly packed anything.
“This.” In one smooth motion, he removed his tunic and pressed it into her hands. Most softly, he added, “Only this.”
Returning to the little water closet, she washed up and tidied her hair. Her hands barely trembled when she set aside her clothes. Argent’s tunic was laughably large on her and still warm. The delicate cloth slipped and clung to her bare skin. After some consideration, she set aside her bracelet since she had no need of wards with Argent around, but she left on her golden necklace since it was a part of who she was.
Argent was no longer by the pedestal. She peered around, but her senses only picked up the trickle of water, the faint whisper of Ephemera aloft, and a tingle of awareness sparked by the vast array of sigils. “Argent?” she called.
“Here.”
Following a teasing tendril that skimmed along the edge of her senses, Tsumiko found herself in a circle of greenery. She hadn’t found this spot during her own exploration. Perhaps Argent had hidden it from her until now. Moss carpeted a low mound, and tall ferns hemmed in the space. Directly overhead, a single crystal hung—perfectly shaped, slowly spinning, shining as silver as the diamond on Argent’s brow.
He took her hand and guided her once again through the steps of the dance. Barefoot on cool moss, with the playful brush of tails against her legs, she felt a little wild. And wanted.
Arms settled around Tsumiko from behind, and she leaned back into Argent’s bare chest. Gladness and gratitude washed through her, and she lifted her own face to the sky as her thoughts formed into prayers.
Argent kissed her shoulder where the tunic had slipped. “My third wish.”
She couldn’t bring herself to break the silence, so she touched his arms, waiting.
“Let me tend you.”
Tsumiko’s pulse quickened. There was little doubt where tending would lead. But there was no reason to hold back. So she turned in Argent’s embrace and rose up on tiptoe to meet his lips.
His strength welled up and washed over her, flowing in familiar ways. Everything was warm fur and hot skin and a voice against her ear. Confessions that made her blush, promises that weakened her knees, pursuits that wou
ld lead to pleasure, and pledges that would prolong their enjoyment for … ever.
Yes, home was comfort and contentment. But it could also be as heady as a dose of Huddlebud. She reveled in the simply symmetry they’d discovered—she was her beloved’s, and he was hers. A mutual belonging. A true bond.
Her fingertips trailed across Argent’s blaze, and his unhurried kisses took on notes of urgency. Fully tangled in his tails, Tsumiko marveled at how much he was showing her, telling her, teaching her.
Could she answer in kind?
Pulling back enough to catch her breath, she murmured four little words against Argent’s ear. Then giddy from tending, emboldened by his groan, and hindered by precious little, Tsumiko pounced.
THE END
FORTHRIGHT
a teller of tales who began as a fandom ficcer. (Which basically means that no one in RL knows about her anime habit, her manga collection, or her penchant for serial storytelling.) Kinda sorta almost famous for gently-paced, WAFFy adventures that might inadvertently overturn your OTP, forthy will forever adore drabble challenges, surprise fanart, and twinkles (which are rumored to keep well in jars). As always ... be nice, play fair, have fun! ::twinkle::
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NEXT IN THE AMARANTHINE SAGA...
Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal
