Chapter 4
Gron was distracted from Ruth by someone landing on his platform. He looked up but he didn’t loosen his hold on her. It had been a trying day for them both, and he didn’t want her to get scared again. He had longed for home many times while he had been captive, but now he found himself wishing his family could just leave them in peace for a moment.
Their visitor was Brur, the more amicable of his mother’s mates, one of his fathers, and the male who had tried to pull Ruth away from him despite her fighting. Correspondingly, Ruth stiffened in his arms and pushed closer to him. She was wary of Brur, as anyone would be in her situation, and Gron could not reassure her.
“Gron,” Brur said, looking uncomfortable. “I have come to apologise to your Queen,” he said.
Gron did not welcome him as he once would have. He knew his father had only been obeying Gryla, his Queen, which was the duty of every male, but Gron’s duty was to Ruth, and as such her enemies became his, no matter who they were. Gron watched Brur take in his hold on Ruth, and her hold on him, and the quiet antagonism the couple radiated towards him. Yes, look, thought Gron. See that we are Bonded, and never question it again.
“You know she does not understand you,” Gron replied.
Brur shifted, ashamed. “I have brought her a gift,” he said, and he held out a string of sweetfruit, which did not grow near the tribal village and was coming to the end of its season. These must have come from Gryla’s personal stock.
Gron’s resistance gave way an inch. “Does Mother know you took these?”
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you to bring them?” Gron watched Brur carefully. He wanted his mother to be apologetic for what she had done, and he wanted Brur to be too. He didn’t want to think Gryla had sent his father here for another opportunity to spy on him and Ruth.
“It was my idea. I asked her for them, and she gave her permission. Gryla is happy for Gruth to have them,” Brur assured him.
Gron sighed. He knew it was not his place to demand that Gryla feel sorry for what she had done. He could imagine as well how Brur must be feeling, how he would feel if he had been placed in the same situation. Ruth was a rival Queen to the others, it was natural that they would not be kind to her. Brur’s offering did nothing to calm Gron’s anxiety to get Ruth out of the tribe and away from the other Queens.
He gently prised himself away from Ruth, and Brur approached cautiously. Ruth flinched and stepped behind Gron, her small hand gripping the pelt on his back tightly. Gron put his arm around her but didn’t push her forward. She was free to remain where she chose, and to choose whether to accept Brur’s apology or not.
The older male was visibly pained by her obvious mistrust of him, and his shame seemed to wither him as he hung his head under Ruth’s accusing stare. He held out the vine of fruit, bowing low, almost cringing. Ruth looked at him for a long moment, but eventually she took the vine from him. She let it hang by her leg, not eating any, while Gron stroked her back. He didn’t want her to hate his father, he didn’t want to have to hate him for her sake.
Brur stepped back and straightened up, though he didn’t look like his mood had improved. Clearly, he hadn’t received the reaction he had hoped for, but Gron didn’t know what he could have expected after the way he behaved. Ruth did not understand them, their motivations could not be explained to her. Gron wanted her to get on well with his tribe, but he also appreciated that he was all she had here, and if she misunderstood something that he did and thought she couldn’t trust him anymore... He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t lose her trust, not just for her sake, but for his as well. It would kill him to see her look at him the way she had just looked at Brur. Gron couldn’t fault the male for cringing. If Ruth looked at him like that, he would crawl.
Suddenly feeling charitable, Gron said “Thank you, Brur. We will see you at the feast.”
Brur looked at him. “I will speak to Gryla. I will do my best to make sure everything goes well tonight,” he said sincerely.
“Thank you, but it is Grasta whose decision we must fear,” Gron replied. Brur gave him a sympathetic look, but they both knew Gron was right. Grasta was the Queen of the tribe. Her decision was final, and it didn’t have to be merciful.
“I will see you tonight,” Brur said as means of farewell. “Please, help her understand I mean her no harm,” he added, nodding at Ruth.
“You can make that clearer to her than I can,” Gron told him, and Brur ducked his head.
“You have grown wise in your absence,” he said.
“I am Bonded now. I cannot act like a free male would,” Gron replied.
Brur looked at him. “I am proud of you, Gron. It seems Griss and I raised you to be a fine male, and it warms my heart.”
Gron felt again the pang of belonging to Ruth’s tribe now and having to leave his family behind. This male was important to him. He had always thought he would be there to look after his parents as they grew old. Now it would fall most likely to Mruin, since Kranu hardly had the tenderness for it. “Thank you, Father,” he said. “I will look for you at the feast tonight.”
Brur left them then, leaping out of sight, presumably heading back to Gryla’s platform which was somewhere below them. Gron turned back to Ruth, and she looked up at him again. Her expression was hard to guess at, but she did not look happy. Gron tried to imagine himself in her situation, unable to understand anything that was being said, and stroked her hair to comfort her. It was the best he could do to show her there was no threat, not yet anyway. The feast would be another matter.
Ruth bared her teeth in that strange way she had, and Gron did his best to copy her. She shook and made a strange noise that sounded almost like coughing, but she put her hand to his cheek and her eyes looked happy. She lifted the vine of sweetfruits and held it out to him. Not wanting to take it from her, as it was a gift to her, Gron plucked one of the fruits off the vine and held it before her mouth. Ruth eyed it suspiciously and pushed his hand back, pointing at him.
Gron was repeatedly baffled and endeared by her insistence on feeding him. He supposed Queens did typically take care of their males, but while in his tribe that meant fighting, defending the tribe and claiming territory, Ruth clearly would not be able to do that, not against Queens like Grasta. Perhaps this was how she compensated, by making sure he was fed. Perhaps that was how it was done in her tribe. He remembered how she had brought him some of her share of the strange food they had been given in the cell. Had she been caring for him even then? When he was still rejecting her? She must have wanted to Bond with him very soon after seeing him, and his pelt stiffened a little in pride at that thought.
He must not encourage this behaviour though. If any of his tribe saw him eat before his Queen, they would object, perhaps even punish him. He looked around carefully, trying to discover if they were in sight of any of the others, but it sounded like most of them were on the ground preparing for the feast. He quickly popped the fruit into his mouth and chewed. He hadn’t had one of these in months. He usually only got two or three a year at the peak of the season when they were plentiful. What few others could be gathered went to the Queens and their males. They were a common gift for males when they were chosen to join a Queen’s harem, because they were associated with pleasure and fertility. By giving them a vine, Brur had approved of their Bonding.
Gron plucked another from the vine and offered it to Ruth again, and this time she seemed happy to take it. Her strange, flat mouth and protruding nose meant that she had to tilt her head back to accept it, her mouth opening, waiting for him to give her the fruit. He deposited it gently, trying to avoid her small but sharp-looking teeth. She had no fangs like he did, but all her front teeth were thin like blades. He had never hurt his tongue on them when she played with it in her mouth, but they looked vicious nonetheless.
As she closed her lips, a warm tingle spread over his skin, like his body was priming for mating, which was strange. He shook it off, assign
ing it to the instinct to provide for his Queen being satisfied. She had not initiated mating, so he determinedly put it from his mind. He wanted her to think he was in control, not needy or unstable. So far he had handled his priming well, and he didn’t want her to think now that he needed caring for, not when he was her only defence against his tribe.
Ruth made a pleased noise as she chewed the fruit. They didn’t have anything to bring to the feast, but Gron felt they would be excused, having only just arrived after being escorted against their will. He wouldn’t bring the sweetfruits. It would be disrespectful to share Gryla’s gift with the whole tribe, and might be interpreted by Grasta as an act of bribery to win males to Ruth’s side.
She ate another sweetfruit then moved away to place them by the tree trunk with the rest of their belongings. When she returned to his side, he took her hand and led her to the edge of the platform so they could make their way down to the forest floor. The feast had not yet begun, but he didn’t want Grasta to send one of her males to retrieve them. They had been escorted into the tribe as if they were guilty of something, it would not help matters for the same thing to happen again.
Chapter 5
The feast was laid out on the forest floor in a long strip. A collection of fruits, nuts, and other edible plants were presented on large leaves. The whole tribe was milling around, retrieving food stores from the trees and depositing them in the centre of the small clearing that would host the meal. Gron let Ruth slip from his back and took her hand. Already people were staring at her, and he wanted everyone present to understand that they were together, an inseparable unit.
Grasta took her position in the middle of one side of the spread, the signal for everyone else to seat themselves around her. On her right sat her Prime Father, so far the only male she had allowed to father her children, of which she had two sons and a daughter in the middle, all yet to reach adolescence. The daughter sat beside her mother, while her younger brother sat beside his father as he was only a few years old and still needed assistance with his food, with the eldest son on his other side.
It was unusual for a Queen to have only one Prime Father, or to allow him to father so many children, but that was up to Grasta.
Beside Grasta’s daughter was the Queen’s stud, a younger male she used mostly for sexual pleasure. It was understood in the tribe that she did offer him the chance to father a child every now and then, but he had yet to succeed. If either of them was concerned then it was their private business, the tribe had faith he would become a Prime Father eventually.
On his other side was the consort, or so the tribe understood him to be. He was a male barely out of adolescence that Grasta had Bonded, but had yet to touch, waiting until he matured fully. He was a quiet and shy lad from outside the tribe, but he was undeniably well-made, with unusual pale grey eyes, and everyone could see why Grasta had offered to him despite his age. Bracketing the Queen’s court on either side were her two Bonded guards, who completed her entourage.
In the past, Gryla would sit opposite Grasta, with her males on either side, and her children free to arrange themselves as they pleased beside their fathers. When Gron’s younger sister had been growing up, she took pride of place among the children, but she had left the tribe to start her own the year before. After that, it was usually Kranu who sat next to Brur to avoid Griss, who Gron sat next to, with Mruin on his other side. It was a companionable arrangement, and Gron had many pleasant memories of eating with his family.
Now that Gron was Bonded to Ruth, who was also a Queen, which no one could deny no matter how she looked, the social order was less clear. Gron would have been happy for them to sit as far away from the other Queens as they could, but he knew that this feast was largely an excuse to examine Ruth and his Bond to her in front of the whole tribe. As much as he wanted to, he knew they shouldn’t hide.
Grasta picked him out of the crowd at that moment and gestured him over, her face stern but not threatening. It was clear that she wanted to be obeyed, and they could either agree or be forced. Gron reluctantly led Ruth over, aware of her closing the gap between them to once again hover halfway behind him, looking out from behind his arm.
“Sit down, Gron,” Grasta said.
Aware that he had no choice, Gron folded his legs under him, and Ruth followed, sitting beside him. This already was wrong. Ruth should be sitting opposite Grasta, not him. He told himself it was because Grasta expected him to translate for Ruth, but he knew that if the Queen saw Ruth as an equal, she would have placed her in Gron’s position. This was a slight, and Ruth didn’t know enough to challenge it, didn’t have the strength to challenge Grasta and demand the respect she deserved.
Gron tried not to meet the eyes of Grasta’s males. Her mates would not fight him, it was not their purpose, but the guards... If he disrespected her, they would leap to her defence, despite being seated away from them.
Movement made him look beside him and he watched as his family took their positions around him. His mother, Gryla, sat on his free side in what he hoped was a show of solidarity. Brur went to Ruth’s other side, surprising her, but Gron knew his father’s intentions were good. Griss sat on his mother’s other side, then Kranu, then Mruin. The looks on their faces suggested they were on his side, ready to negotiate in his favour despite what it might cost them. Brur must have spoken to Gryla after all. The thought that he might have his family’s support made Gron feel stronger.
The rest of the tribe settled around them. Outside of the Queen’s court, it didn’t matter where anyone sat, most people chose spots near food they wanted, or kept to the same friendship groups they kept to in the day. There was no formal structure to the feast, everyone would just eat until they were full and then leave, but Gron knew everyone was there to watch what happened between Ruth and Grasta, and doubted anyone would be paying much attention to the food or would leave early.
Grasta ate first, choosing a few pieces and opening the feast. Gryla took her cue and began. The tribe wasn’t obligated to wait for Gryla, only her males, but she was never one to wait or to be overlooked, and tended to eat second as if it was her right. Gron turned to Ruth. He was her male, and so part of her tribe, not Grasta’s. He was supposed to wait for her to eat first, but Ruth didn’t know that. If he ate before her, it would be a dishonour in front of his tribe, and possibly weaken his claim that he was Bonded to Ruth. If Ruth waited to eat, however, it would weaken her status as a Queen to allow too many males to eat before her.
Ruth was watching the proceedings with interest, but made no move to help herself to any of the food. Gron knew he had to play this carefully, but the foundations had already been laid by the sweetfruits, for which he again thanked Brur in his mind. Gron reached out for the biggest berry on a nearby cluster, then leaned into Ruth’s space and offered it to her. He was well aware that this was taking more liberties than a male such as he had a right to, but it was a calculated gamble. Only a favourite new Prime Father could possibly get away with this behaviour towards his Queen, and by implying his relationship with Ruth was that strong, Kranu’s claims that they were not really Bonded, or that Ruth did not understand it, would seem impossible.
Ruth watched him and bared her teeth, her expression softening. She took hold of his wrist and gently took the berry from him with her small, precise teeth. As she chewed she stretched her lips thin again as if acknowledging the act in some way. Gron felt that same warmth as he had felt earlier spread through him, and he curled his tail into his lap, just in case. He quickly turned away to gather food for her onto one of the leaves.
“Hmm,” Grasta rumbled, drawing Gron’s attention. “She can’t feed herself?” she asked.
“Gruth has chosen me to serve her. I will do so in every way I can,” Gron replied carefully, deliberately not allowing his movements to slow or speed up.
“So she really can’t speak?” asked Grasta.
“Gruth can speak. I have heard her speak at length, enough to fill an entire mornin
g. She just does not speak the same tongue we do. That is why she does not understand us. She can hear, and she can speak, and she is not simple,” Gron affirmed, disliking where the conversation was heading.
“Can you make her speak now? I would like to hear it,” commanded Grasta.
Gron hesitated. Ruth was not here to entertain Grasta or become her pet, but it was still early to test Grasta’s patience. At the same time, he did not know how to get Ruth to talk. He couldn’t just ask her. Gron finished placing food on a leaf for himself and set it down in front of where he sat, taking his time to allow him to think. What had made her speak in the past? From what he could remember of his fever in the cave, she had talked almost non-stop then. She had talked incessantly in the cell as well. Both times they were alone, and under circumstances he could not recreate with the whole tribe watching. She usually spoke while they were mating as well, but he could not initiate that himself, and especially not while his Bond to her was being contended.
Gron turned to her. He would only need a few words. She seemed to notice his pensive stare because she stopped picking at the food and her eyes flicked between him and Grasta, her long mane almost whipping him in the face as she turned suddenly to check on Brur behind her. She turned back to him, confused and concerned, and he put his hand on top of hers to reassure her.
He gestured to his throat, pressing his fingers to the centre of his voice, then at her. She looked confused, so he pointed at Grasta and then his ear. Thankfully, even if she didn’t understand him, she still spoke, offering up a few sentences that were probably asking what he wanted. When she was finished, Gron let her be, removing his hand and turning back to Grasta, beginning to eat.
Gron's Fated Page 3
