Author’s Note:  This story takes place after Revival, but was written after I wrote what’s been published of Path Into the Darkness, which takes place after this story.  Therefore, it may seem disjointed or confusing if you’re not familiar with the latter story.  It was originally written for NaNoWriMo 2008 as a bridge-type story to fill in the five year gap between those two stories.

 

Dawn of Peace

By Cheezey

 

Part One

 

The dawn was bright across the mountains of New Thundera.  Tygra watched it with a sense of peace and smiled, introspective as he took in the lovely hues of the sky turning purple, then pink, and then golden-orange as a new day began on their world.  Sunrises were always beautiful, he mused, but this one was more than just another day for the Thundercats and the people of New Thundera.  It was the morning after the Battle of the Swords, a terrible confrontation between the Thundercats, Mutants, and Lunatacs that had been engineered by Mumm-Ra and threatened to destroy all three worlds in the name of revenge and ambition.  At the last minute, they had been able to turn it around, not just into victory against Mumm-Ra, but into lasting peace and unity amongst their peoples.

 

I never would’ve imagined such a thing was possible, Tygra thought as the light danced against the clouds.  The Mutants and Lunatacs no longer our enemies, but our allies.  It was incredible, but he had been there himself and felt the same magic that everyone else—Thundercat, Mutant, and Lunatac alike—had felt when the Incantation of Peace was complete.  “All that time we worried about the MoonSaber after finding Snoelle, and in the end it turned out to be a blessing.” 

 

His thoughts turned to the snow leopard that had joined them, and how relieved she must be to not only be freed from her icy prison and back among Thundercats, but also to have the burden of guilt for not completing the mission she had been imprisoned on lifted from her shoulders once and for all.  Panthro will be happy to see her so happy, Tygra then thought, and smiled again, that time for his old friend.  A side of Panthro that none of them had seen in a long time had come out since Snoelle’s return, and it made Tygra glad to see him find such happiness.  Tygra himself never had much luck in love.  Introverted as he was, he admittedly did not try often, but for the most part relationships deeper than friendship had been disastrous to him.  That did not keep him from being happy for said friends when they found it, though, and Tygra had long since made peace with the fact that he would likely live out his years single.  Even if he died tomorrow, he would go feeling that he had lived a full and rich life.

 

“Though with things looking so bright, I don’t want that to happen anytime soon,” he said aloud, despite being alone where he watched the sun rise.  Tygra stretched, and a caught a glint of light out of the corner of his eye.  Turning, he saw the Book of Omens on a table.  It had been getting a lot of read time as of late; with Snoelle’s return and questions about the MoonSaber, the prophecy of the swords, and all of the concerns that had arisen recently, it was a given that the Book of Omens was the first resource the Thundercats consulted.  “Guess I ought to return this to the sword chamber before Snarf gives us a piece of his mind for not keeping the Lair neat.”  He picked the book up, and noticed that it seemed a tad heavier in his hands than he remembered.  “That’s odd…”

 

Looking at it more closely, Tygra could have sworn that it also looked thicker than it had before, too.  “Very odd.”  He knew that the Book of Omens was an ancient artifact created by Thundercat scholars generations ago to record and keep their history and secrets, and that it had powers that they did not fully understand.  He also knew that it held a pathway to another realm that held those secrets, which could be unlocked by using the Sword of Omens to gain access and presenting the Key of Thundera to the guardian of that realm.  He never thought, however, that any kind of sentience or life existed in the pages of the mystic book other than that.  Does it add its own pages and write its own passages?  He found such a thing hard to believe, but he had seen far too many things based in magic that science did not quite explain for him to dismiss it outright.  He unfastened the clasp and turned the pages.  So if it does, what did it say?

 

He found the answer to his question fairly quickly as he came across a set of pages at the end of the section pertaining to the prophecy and legend of the swords.  “Great Jaga,” he whispered in amazement.  “It wrote about us and what happened yesterday!”  Eyes wide with wonder, he began to read.

 

Dawn of Peace—The Battle of the Swords:  The ancient legends warning of apocalyptic calamity should the mighty Sword of Omens, Sword of Plundarr, and MoonSaber meet in battle whilst in the hands of the Lord of the Thundercats, Mutant Warrior King, and Sovereign of the Moons of Plundarr were put into motion by the machinations of the earthbound disciples of the Ancient Spirits of Evil, Mumm-Ra the Ever-Living of Third Earth and his bride Torlei of the Plundarrian Moon Mirindet, also ever-living.  These wicked beings, with the intent of destroying and enslaving the worlds of New Thundera, Plundarr, and all five of its Moons, tricked Lord Lion-O of the Thundercats into arming himself with the Sword of Omens against Mutant Warrior King Ratar-O and Prince Silvian of the United Kingdom of the Moons of Plundarr.  When the Lunar Plundarrian Prince fell in battle, his sister, ruling Queen Selene of the Plundarrian Moons, took his place.  The ever-livings attempted to invoke the Incantation of Destruction, and a terrible battle raged amongst the three rulers and the Thundercats, Mutants, and Lunatacs present.  All seemed to be lost until wise Thundercat Tygra,—

 

Tygra smiled.  The Book of Omens calls me wise?  I’m flattered to be thought of in the same terms as Jaga.  Glowing with pride, he continued to read.

 

—Thundercat Snoelle, Lunatac Governor General Frostor, and Lunatac Chilla saw through the scheme of the ever-living dark mages and collaborated to find a way to reverse the terrible fate that awaited them.  Their cleverness exposed the truth to Lord Lion-O, King Ratar-O, and Queen Selene, and they in turn acted to save their worlds by invoking the Incantation of Peace, putting their personal disputes aside for the well-being of all their worlds.  It was a heroic day, indeed, and one that will be remembered for all time as the pivotal end of the ancient struggle of Thunderian against Mutant against Lunatac.

 

“Glad to know we were right about what the ancient struggle was.”  Tygra closed the book.  With it still in his hands, he turned once again toward the window, now smiling as brightly as the sunrise.  “Dawn of Peace,” he repeated.  “Let’s hope that our future stays as bright as the Book of Omens would have us believe.”

 

 

The expressions worn by the Lunatacs returning from New Thundera as they disembarked from their ships were both relieved and solemn.  Lushara, the senior court member left behind in the MoonTower while the rest had left to take care of the crisis unfolding on New Thundera, looked on with relief as one by one her longtime friends and the handful of new ones—the Lunatacs that had been on Third Earth—emerged and seemed for the most part little worse for the wear.  She waited eagerly for the ship that had carried Silvian to finish emptying, but to her dismay when Governor General Frostor stepped out, he closed the door behind him.  Lushara went from dismayed to horrified when she saw Queen Selene emerge from her vessel, and right behind her Amok and Luna, the former carrying the covered body of the Lunatac prince.

 

“Oh, Silvian!”  Lushara closed her eyes so that she would not have to see what her excellent darkling vision allowed her to that others could not—the faintest trace of heat remaining in Silvian’s body against the inert fabric surrounding it,  identifying him with no question that he was dead.  Like Frostor and Psiarik, she had been among the ragtag crew of survivors from the capital during the Thundera explosion disasters, and she had known Silvian ever since the royal children had been found alive in the aftermath all those years ago.  It was hard for her to see the boy she regarded much like a nephew—for he and Selene were too young to be imagined as siblings, but too old for her to feel overtly maternal toward—cut down so young.  Tears welled in her red eyes. “He didn’t make it.”

 

“No,” Selene said somberly, tears springing to her eyes once again.  “We saved the Moons, but we were too late to save him.”

 

Frostor shook his head and let out a weary crystalline breath.  “A damn shame.”

 

“I’m so sorry.”  Lushara put her arm around Selene’s shoulders.  She glanced over at Luna and Amok, and found her gaze drifting toward Silvian’s still form despite herself.  “Who did it?  The rat or the cat?”

 

“Lion-O,” RedEye told her.  “He dealt him the fatal blow.”

 

Luna frowned.  “And we forgave him, if you can believe it.”

 

While Lushara looked down at Selene, and then at Psiarik and Frostor with shocked disbelief, Selene clarified before she could ask.  “The Incantation of Peace was the only way out, Aunt Luna.  You know that.  And while I’ll never forget the awful sight of the Thundercat Lord swinging at him that last time—” Selene’s voice choked on a sob and Psiarik finished for her.

 

“It was Mumm-Ra that set it all up and pit us against each other like that.  It was make peace with the Thunderians and Mutants or die alongside them and let those corpses win.”

 

“Talk about the proverbial rock and hard place,” Lushara sighed.  She gave Selene’s shoulder a squeeze before letting her go.  “So we’re at peace with Thundera and Plundarr now?”

 

“Supposedly.”  Frostor shrugged.  “We’ll see how it pans out in practice, but Selene, Lion-O, and Ratar-O all gave their word to attempt to make it work.”

 

Psiarik nodded along with him.  “And I think they will.  I don’t know about the rest of you, but I can feel a difference in my outlook on them.  It’s subtle, but it’s there.”

 

“You in touch with your feelings,” Lushara mused dryly, “now that would be a first.  Then again, that prophecy did say something about the impossible with the inevitable, so I guess it fits.”

 

“Hah, funny,” he retorted.

 

“And how are the rest of you?”  Lushara turned to the rest of the crew that had been largely silent—Alluro, Chilla, Vultureman, TugMug, and lastly, RedEye, where it lingered.

 

“Just peachy, for magically having the warm fuzzies about the Thundercats on top of everything else that, caw, went insane anyway.”

 

TugMug laughed.  “You’re just bitter that even after you made peace, Ratar-O still wouldn’t hire you back on Plundarr!”

 

“Caw!  You don’t know what you’re talking about, you fat oaf.  I wouldn’t work for him again, anyway!  You Lunatacs might all be crazy, but you’ve always paid better and have a better appreciation for my genius.”

 

Frostor eyed him in a manner that was difficult to tell if what he said next was serious or in jest.  “And then, of course, there’s the matter of repercussions if you sold out any of our confidential secrets, especially considering how much I hear the hunters like to roast birds for feasts.”

 

“Hunters.”  Alluro’s lips curled back in a sneer as he thought about the barbaric and aloof tribe of green-haired, shape-shifting, and cannibalistic Lunatacs native to the Third Moon’s jungle region near the equator.  “We haven’t run into any of them in some time.  Are there any in the capital?”

 

“A few,” Frostor answered.  “You know how clannish they can be, though; most of the ones around here live in their own neighborhood.  The hunters had a pretty good survival rate in the Thundera explosion disasters, since roughing it doesn’t faze them much, and nothing particularly brutal hit Serilune.  Mostly storms and minor quakes.”

 

“Actually, I’ve met their representative on the city council,” Lushara said.  “He’s not bad.  Pretty civilized for a hunter.”

 

“There’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one,” chortled TugMug.

 

“You referring to anything as ‘moronic’ would be one, too,” Chilla said with a snide look.

 

“Hey, Chilla,” TugMug wheeled around so that his backside faced her, and bent over as far as his round frame would allow.  “See this?  Kiss it.”

 

“If my lips ever touch anything that nasty, I’ll gargle bleach for a month.”

 

“Considering where your lips were on the ride home, I’d put in that request to the staff now.”  Luna looked over at Alluro, who scowled back at her.

 

“And deny Frostor when he so clearly needs it?”

 

A blast of ice landed squarely between Luna and Alluro, and Frostor gave them both a stern look.  “I think that’s enough.”

 

“It looks like I missed quite a bit while you were all away on your adventure to New Thundera,” said Lushara.

 

“You could say that,” Selene said with a wan smile.  “So why don’t we all go in and put up our feet while we sort through it all?”

 

“Seems like it’ll take all day and night just to fill me in on the particulars alone.”

 

RedEye joined Lushara’s side and smiled at her.  “I’ll be glad to give you a rundown.”

 

She reciprocated the gesture and took his hand to lead him inside.  “Sounds fabulous.”

 

 

The reception awaiting the Mutants on Plundarr upon their return was more formal.  Chrotoman, one of Ratar-O’s primary advisors and the head of one of the more prominent rat families, was at the head of the assemblage greeting them.  Other prominent faces of Plundarr’s court were there as well.  Three rats called Otarin, Spraguin, and Dawler were present, as well as high-ranking nobles of the reptilian, avian, simian, and jackal clans, including Monkian’s nephews Cynolus and Macacian, and Jackalman’s clan elder Drestan.  Other familiar faces around the high court of Plundarr were also in attendance, such as the curvaceous black and white rat Evania, Ratar-O’s favored concubine of late, and Jackalman’s wife Melasia and their two pups Nadicus and Regnevacus. 

 

As Ratar-O and his group of “Third Earth Misfits,” as Otarin had dubbed them in their absence, disembarked from the ship, Slythe was irritated to see Iguano of the reptilians there representing his people.  Iguano loathed Slythe and had been one of the most vocal in humiliating him upon his return to Plundarr, and Slythe would have liked nothing more than to bury his axe between the fat reptile’s shoulder blades.

 

“So,” Otarin greeted the Mutant Warrior King and his party with a bow, “you’ve returned, Mighty Ratar-O, and victorious?”

 

“We were quite concerned,” Evania added, her dark and beady eyes intent upon him.

 

Spraguin took a step forward.  “The rumors we heard were disconcerting; that you went on an emergency mission to New Thundera with a ragtag crew and barely a word to anyone and—”  The old rat’s breath caught in his throat as he saw the glint of gold in Ratar-O’s hands.  “Is that… is that what I think it is?”

 

Ratar-O grinned.  “Indeed it is.  The Sword of Plundarr.”  He held it high and proudly.  “Behold, Mutants, the return of our birthright to its rightful hands.  No more is it kept from us by a miserable Thunderian or an alien mummy that foolishly thought he could control its power better than the one meant to hold it.”

 

“It’s really it!” Evania squealed, sidling up to her rotund king with unashamed flirtation.  “You amaze me, mighty Ratar-O.  All of Mutant-kind is in your debt.”

 

Macacian of the simian clan snorted.  “Yes, a debt long overdue to be repaid ever since the rats lost our sword.”

 

Ratar-O sneered at him.  “Your jealousy embarrasses your whole clan.  I’ve never heard of a simian that could even activate the powers of the Sword of Plundarr, much less wield it.”

 

Macacian’s elder brother Cynolus took a step forward and smoothed down his golden-trimmed robes, ignoring his sibling’s faux pas, and addressed Monkian instead.  “You do us proud, uncle, accompanying the king on such an important, hoo, mission.”

 

Monkian beamed while Iguano gave his own kinsman the opposite type of welcome.  “Slythe,” he sneered, “how is it that the king’s essssteemed janitor managed to get appointed to such a prestigoussss mission?”

 

“Slythe has his uses.”  A nasty smirk played across Ratar-O’s lips as he answered before Slythe had a chance.  “He keeps me well fed if nothing else.”

 

Slythe glowered and fought the urge to strike out at them both while Iguano gave their king a flattering look.  “I have heard he’s good in the kitchen.  Better than sssssome women, even, I hear.”

 

“That’s it, Iguano!”  The tenuous hold Slythe had on his temper fell away altogether.  He lunged at the other reptilian, nearly toppling the avian clan leader Zarubz in the process.  Zarubz squawked and leapt back, his cumbersome headdress flapping in the breeze as he did so. 

 

“Watch it, oaf!”

 

“Ssssso uncivilized!”  Iguano whirled around and flicked his tail to block Slythe’s strike.  “Don’t cause a scene and force our victorious Mutant Warrior King call the guards.”

 

With one arm around Evania’s slender waist, Ratar-O regarded them sternly.  “Yes, Slythe, settle down.  You can hash out your issues with your reptilian friends off the palace grounds.  We’ve got important business to go over.”

 

Dawler’s tail flicked back and forth.  “Such as?  Did you eliminate the Thundercats of New Thundera?”

 

“That’s not what I heard,” Zarubz interjected.

 

Drestan the jackal shook his head as well.  “Nor I.”

 

While the others spoke business, Melasia made her way through the crowd to Jackalman.  “I’m glad you made it back safely.”  Their pups went to his side and clamored for his attention.  Both barked in excitement, and Regnevacus tugged insistently on his father’s tunic.

 

“Easy, Reggie!  Nyah, that’s expensive!”  Jackalman patted the exuberant boy on the head and met his wife’s eyes.  “They let you in here?” 

 

She gave him a sweet smile that belied a hint of craftiness.  Though not as outwardly conniving as a rat and far meeker by nature—one of the reasons Jackalman was so fond of her—she was still a Mutant.  In a low tone she whispered, “I figured if one of Ratar-O’s whores could get access to the military landing bays of the castle, it was only fair that I as your legal wife be allowed the same courtesy since you were on the ship.  And if they were letting in civilians already, what harm would a couple of children be?”

 

“I’m lucky that Drestan likes you so much.”  His ears twitched.  “You didn’t flirt with him, nyah, did you?”

 

“You know I’ve only got eyes for you.”  The pretty jackal’s tongue slipped out to plant a quick and dainty smooch on his cheek, while the more serious conversation continued around them.

 

Iguano’s irate voice rose above the others in a sibilant hiss.  “Sssso what you’re saying, mighty Ratar-O, is that not only did you not eliminate the Thundercats or the meddlesome Lunatacs that interfered, but that you agreed to ally with them?”

 

“A serious choice had to be made, and I made it, for the benefit of Plundarr!” Ratar-O snapped back angrily.  “The forward thinking of rats is why our clan rules this world and yours just has ambitions of it!  I fear for what might’ve befallen our world if a short-sighted fool such as you had been there to make the call!  Even Slythe can see that, which doesn’t say much for reptilian leadership.”

 

“Hoo!” Cynolus stood beside the now steaming reptilian leader with an equally disgusted look on his face.  “What’s so forward about allowing the felines who stole the sword in your hands to survive, instead of coating its blades in their lord’s blood?  Hoo, I dare say that Ratilla would be rolling over in his grave.”

 

“You speak out of turn, monkey!”

 

“Does he?” Spraguin said.  “Then explain yourself, Ratar-O.  With the power of the Sword of Plundarr at your command, why didn’t you use it to destroy them as Ratilla himself would have, had Jaga not bested him and stolen it from him?  To get it back and then let them live—”

 

“Did you miss the part where I said that Mumm-Ra had already invoked the Incantation of Destruction, old man?” he hollered back at the old rat.  “Or would you have preferred that I be struck dead along with Lion-O of Thundera and Selene of the Moons while Mumm-Ra and his bitch Lunatac bride waltzed in and claimed Plundarr for themselves?  It wasn’t some wishy-washy desire for peace, fool, but survival for all of us!”

 

Jackalman frowned as he looked up from Melasia’s seductive look promising him a warm homecoming and the affectionate nuzzles of his pups, and realized that during his tune-out he had missed an important part of the exchange.  Were the Plundarrian clan leaders really so foolish as to think that a warrior like Ratar-O would have chosen diplomacy and peace with the Thundercats and Lunatacs if there had been any other choice?  His muzzle twitched.  And other Mutants had the nerve to call him and the jackals stupid…

 

“Ratar-O’s right,” Monkian spoke up in his defense.  “Mumm-Ra would’ve destroyed us all.  Teaming up with them was the only way to have it on him once the spell was cast.”

 

Zarubz fixed his beady eyes on Monkian.  “If the prophecies of old are to be believed, caw, the Incantation of Destruction is one of the few things guaranteed to wipe out all of Mutant-kind along with the Thunderians and moon-dwellers.  This Mumm-Ra actually thought he could wield the gods’ sword to control this destruction and rule the survivors?  It’s said that no living being could do it.  From what I know of Mumm-Ra, he’s got power, but he isn’t a god…”

 

“He’s not mortal, either,” Jackalman interjected, engaged in the conversation once more.  “It was a gamble for him, but he thought he could do it.”

 

Slythe let out a hiss of disgust.  “Fortunately, he was wrong.”

 

“Because I was there to turn it around on him,” Ratar-O emphasized with a glare at his doubters.  “And if it means making nice with the Thundercats and Lunatacs for now, so be it.  There are other things to be gained from the alliance anyway.”

 

“Sssssuch as?” Iguano’s tongue flicked out curiously.

 

Ratar-O sneered back at him.  “I’ll tell you in a press conference later.  For now, I only want desirable company.”  He eyed Evania lustfully and then gave the entourage of greeters a dismissive wave as he headed for the castle proper with his concubine on his arm.  “Have your people call mine.  We’ll do lunch.  Maybe Slythe will even have someplace you like cater it if you ask him nicely.  But until then, you’re all dismissed.”  He and his lover then disappeared around the corner.

 

Before Iguano could say anything, Slythe glared at him with unmasked loathing.  “Don’t even bother assssking.  As far as I’m concerned, you can eat ssssshit.”  With a flick of his tail and without bothering to wait for a response, he headed off into the castle as well.

 

 

Lord Lion-O stepped out of the grand doors of Cat’s Lair and walked down a carpeted path leading to a podium halfway down the staircase.  A huge crowd was gathered in anticipation of his speech; the formal statement that the Thundercats were giving about the Battle of the Swords.  The other Thundercats flanked him as he approached, standing strong and offering their support.  Lion-O was confident in his decision to pursue the peace that had been made with the people of Plundarr and its Moons, but he knew that not everyone on Thundera would be as accepting of the turn of events as the Thundercats had been.  Old grudges died hard, and Lion-O was already not the most popular Thundercat Lord in history as far as some of the clan leaders were concerned, given the changes in policy and tradition that he had instated.

 

“Greetings, people of New Thundera,” he addressed the crowd.  “Many incredible things have happened lately, and I’m sure you all have questions about them and the rumors you’ve been hearing.  I’ve called this conference to set the record straight, and address your concerns.”  He took a breath before continuing.  “First of all, I’m sure those of you that live in New Thundera City and nearby witnessed the Battle of the Swords and its storms and supernatural effects.  As far as I know, no harm came to anyone outside the battlefield.  I’m sure you’ll all be glad to know that despite the unexpected turn of events, no Thundercats were killed or injured, either.  The only fatality was Prince Silvian of the Plundarrian Moons.”  Lion-O lowered his eyes and a regretful note crept into his voice, “Which I’m sorry to say occurred at my hand.  Still,” he eyed the crowd earnestly, “I swear upon the Code of Thundera, Sword of Omens, and very Eye of Thundera itself that I never wanted to kill the Lunatac prince, even though his group did land here with antagonistic intentions.”

 

Lion-O paused for a moment and then continued.  “It’s true that the Lunatacs, as well as the Mutants, came here to fight and eliminate us Thundercats.  I understand that it may be difficult for some of you to understand why then, in the end, I chose to make peace with them.  The battle that we fought here on this very soil was emotionally charged on all sides.  None of us knew that we were all being manipulated by Mumm-Ra; I was fooled by him just like Ratar-O of the Mutants and Silvian of the Lunatacs were.  Even as Mumm-Ra and Torlei enacted the ancient Incantation of Destruction foretold in the Book of Omens, we were all fooled into our conviction that we were doing what had to be done.  All of New Thundera was at stake.  Things went very badly, and could have ended far worse for all of us had it not been for Tygra and our newest addition, Snoelle.”  He gestured to his fellow Thundercats, who smiled in polite acknowledgement.

 

“Somehow they saw through Mumm-Ra’s scheme, and with the help of some of our former enemies, determined a way to reverse it.  That way was by invoking the Incantation of Peace.  Those of you familiar with the prophecies of old know what that means, but for those of you who aren’t, the short version is that there are two legends surrounding our Sword of Omens and Eye of Thundera that tie to the ancient sister swords of the Mutants, the Sword of Plundarr, and the Lunatacs’ sword, the MoonSaber.  It was said in the Book of Omens that if all three swords met in battle and the Incantation of Destruction was used that it would create a terrible weapon that would bring waste and devastation to all of the worlds, and presumably whoever was strong enough to survive would rule it all.  The other was the Incantation of Peace, which if all three leaders mutually agreed to invoke, would pave a path of harmony and allow a permanent alliance to be formed amongst our worlds.  Mumm-Ra engineered the events to put the Incantation of Destruction into motion thinking he could get rid of all of us and take what was left for himself.  Once that happened, the only way to stop it was the Incantation of Peace.”

 

A flurry of murmurs went through the crowd, and Lion-O fell silent for a moment to allow them to digest the information before he went on.  “Knowing all the pain and destruction both Mutants and Lunatacs have caused the Thundercats and Thunderian people in the past, it wasn’t easy to put all of that aside on the faith that we would be starting with a clean slate from here on out.  There’s a lot of bad blood, and while the magic of the Incantation of Peace affected all of the Thundercats and those present once it was cast, I know it’s not enough to make us forget everything that’s happened.  I ask that you, the good people of New Thundera, place the same faith in me, the Thundercats, and the magic of our ancestors that I placed in the Eye of Thundera when I chose this path to defeat Mumm-Ra.”  He lowered his head in a respectful nod as he finished his speech.  “Thank you for your time.”

 

As he finished speaking, a round of mixed applause and ripples of talk that ran the spectrum of shocked, excited, and perturbed went through the crowd.  “You did well,” Tygra told him in a tone that only those up close could hear.  “Your father and Jaga would be proud.  You’ve turned into quite the statesman over the years.”

 

“And you’re right,” WilyKat asserted with a smile of support.  “Things will work out.  The Mutants and Lunatacs are different, but I think we really can make our alliance work.”

 

“Who knew we’d ever see their gentler, softer sides?” WilyKit chortled.

 

The sound of someone’s throat clearing caught the attention of both the Thundercats and the rest of the crowd.  Natorven, the leader of the cheetah clan and representative of the cheetahs on the city council to the Thundercats, stepped forward.  Cheetara straightened when she saw who it was that was about to speak.  Although she did not exactly dislike Natorven, he was a staunch traditionalist, and he had made it clear that while he was proud to see one of his fellow cheetahs rise to the station of marrying a Thundercat Lord, he was not pleased by the fact that the cubs of their union would be half-bloods that might not be able to master the abilities of their lineage.  In that way, Natorven had a lot in common with Azandi, a lion on the city council born from one of the noble lion families.  Azandi was more outspoken with his disapproval of Lion-O’s marriage to a cheetah, noble or not, and the dilution of pure lion bloodlines.  More than once he had hinted at the possibility that Chet would not be able to control the Sword of Omens, and that for the good of Thundera, their Lord ought to consider formally recognizing a mistress to bear him full-blooded lion heirs that he could name as successors if he insisted on keeping his marriage to Cheetara in the name of love.  Needless to say, there was little love lost between Azandi and Lion-O, and given that Natorven was a friend of his, both Lion-O and Cheetara were respectfully wary of him as well.

 

“Lord Lion-O?” Natorven addressed him.

 

“Councilman Natorven,” Lion-O acknowledged with a polite nod.  “Do you have a question?”

 

“I do, my Lord.  Firstly, let me say that your faith in the inherent goodness of both Mutant and Lunatac-kind is admirable.  Some may think it naïve, but I sincerely hope that your ardent belief in it will prove the naysayers wrong.”  His smile then faded.  “However, asking the people of New Thundera to blindly trust those that have attacked, abused, and tried to enslave us is folly at best.  Are we expected to give Mutants and Lunatacs free run on our world?  Many Thunderians would just as soon shoot a Mutant, especially a reptilian, on sight.  I realize you were a cub at the end of the old wars before Old Thundera was lost and don’t remember some of the atrocities, but…”

 

“My entire town was enslaved by a gang of reptilian raiders,” a puma in the crowd spoke up.  “Only eight of us managed to escape.  I saw my mother get raped and my father beheaded for resistance at the hands of reptilians when I was six years old.  I only survived because they didn’t see me where my mother hid me in a closet!  And if you think I’m going to serve any reptilian that walks into my restaurant in the city—”

 

He was cut off by an angry leopard woman.  “And Lunatacs?  I’ve never heard of one of them dealing honestly and straight.  Even the so-called respectable ones rip off Thunderians at the spaceports.  My husband was forced to pay some darkling a fortune in ‘protection’ money on Cardrus where we were forced to live the years Thundera was gone.”

 

“Lunatacs turned Grune the Destroyer against us and sparked the Gatoria riots!  How are we supposed to forget that?” another irate voice in the crowd shouted.

 

“No one’s saying this will be easy.”  Lion-O was loud and authoritative in an attempt to quiet the unrest.  “I realize that many of us have suffered at the hands of Mutants and Lunatacs in the past.  That’s why I’m asking you to have some faith that things really have changed.”

 

“Faith ain’t gonna put a roof over our heads when our homes get trashed in a raid once our guard is down!” a panther yelled.  “Who’s going to clean up the mess when they go back to their old ways?”

 

“If they go back to their old ways,” responded Lion-O, “the Thundercats will protect you.  You have my word as Lord on that.”  The other Thundercats nodded their assent with him as he spoke.

 

From where he stood near Natorven, the lion councilman Azandi stepped forward and folded his arms across his chest.  “And rest assured, Lord Lion-O, we and the Eye of Thundera will hold you to your word.”

 

 

A large crowd was gathered in the grand ballroom of the MoonTower, set up for an opulent feast of food, drink, and socializing.  The occasion was not a happy one, however, for it was the after-gathering of Prince Silvian’s funeral.  The somber ceremony had been held earlier in the day and was attended by all of the surviving local nobility, government, and military as well as whatever citizens from the area there were room for.  Both Silvian and Selene were popular amongst their people.  Although they were young, the fact that they had survived the Thundera explosion disasters had been seen as a ray of hope that one day there would be a return to order somewhat like it had been before the wake of Thundera’s explosion devastated the Moons.

 

The traditional feast held afterward was an open party as well, although there was a high level of security on the premises from the military and guardsmen.  Despite the sad circumstances, the gathering was rather lively.  Though the exact traditions varied from moon to moon and race to race, the general belief of the Lunatac culture was that a warrior that died valiantly should have the mourners sad at his or her funeral and celebrating their life at the after-party, for the departed would be received by kin and loved ones upon passing into the astral.  The lunar people of the Third Moon tended toward the extravagant and upscale, and as such the finest gourmet food and drink was served, with exotic imports and the prince’s favorites of royal spirits served to the guests there to honor his life and passing.

 

For the Lunatacs of Skytomb and the residents of the MoonTower it had also turned into an unofficial going away party for one of their own.  Although TugMug had enjoyed his stay amongst the royalty, the fact that he had been pardoned from his past crimes and was free to go where he pleased once more was too much of a lure for him to resist.  All of the Lunatacs on Third Earth declared themselves to be free agents, but TugMug clung to that mantra more than the others.  Even the lure of cushy digs was not enough to keep him from his chance to get away from Luna once and for all.  He did not hate her, but she would never be his best friend, either, and while he held no animosity toward RedEye, Alluro, Chilla, or even Amok, a change of company after so many years of being only around them was too tempting to pass up.  TugMug wanted to return to his home moon of Tukabir and reconnect with whatever kin he might have left, and spend some time around sensible gravitons as opposed to stuffy royals.

 

That, and even though they were serving some “pretty good shit” as he had remarked to Frostor upon getting a stein full of his favorite First Moon brew from the open bar, nothing compared to the homemade stuff that could be gotten only on Tukabir that individuals like Selene, Psiarik, or Frostor would have never even heard of, let alone have the foresight to order. 

 

Dressed in a fine new tunic of dark blue and gold befitting his newly recognized station as the father of the queen’s husband, Alluro strode over to TugMug and requested a drink of his own.  “So I hear you’re leaving us for heavier pastures.”

 

“Yeah.”  His reply was blunt as he took a swig.

 

“Any plans, or are you just going as far from Luna as possible?”

 

“Yeah,” TugMug said, and then added, “Pretty much.  I’m surprised you’re sticking around her, but I guess you can’t pass up the free room and board in royal digs.”

 

Alluro flashed a million dollar smile and smoothed a hand down what was left of his now trimmed and even long hair, nicely conditioned by one of Selene’s many royal primpers.  “This is the kind of life I always wanted, way back in the days when I first wound up working for Luna.  It didn’t happen anywhere near how I ever thought it would, and for the longest time I thought the best we might get is something we conquered and would have to fight to keep.  This is far better than that, so I won’t complain.  Even if I do have to stay under the same roof as Luna, it’s not like she’s barking orders at me or threatening me with Amok anymore.”

 

“So is Chilla staying with you?  I’m sure Luna’s staying put, and you can’t separate Amok from her with a crowbar.”

 

“We didn’t really discuss it.  Too much has been going on.”  A sly smile crept across his lips.  “But Chilla seems content to spend most of her nights with me still.”

 

“Heh.”  TugMug took another swig.  “The fact that she didn’t dump you or run for the nearest Lunatac that wasn’t you, me, or RedEye must mean she actually likes you and wasn’t just waiting until she found something she liked better.”  He sneered in a half-sarcastic, half-friendly way.  “Who would’ve thought that’s how it’d go for her?”

 

Alluro’s brow rose, but he chose to dismiss the insult in TugMug’s statement and chalk it up to social ineptness rather than take umbrage at it.  How could he truly comprehend the charm of a man like Alluro anyhow?  “There was a time when she’d have hardly been my type, either, but circumstance makes for strange bedfellows, and friends, I suppose.”  He swirled the Plundarrian whiskey in his glass.  “Take care of yourself, TugMug, and do visit us sometime.  I won’t say it’s always been fun, but you do keep things interesting, and truth be told, I’ll miss your,” he cleared his throat, “unique sense of humor.”

 

He grinned.  “Let me know when the queen’s throwing a good party, and I’ll be glad to crash it and spice it up!”

 

“Speaking of spice,” Alluro said, glancing over at RedEye where he was deep in conversation with Lushara, “do you think he’ll follow your lead, or do you think she’s spiced up his life enough that he’ll be staying around?”

 

TugMug laughed.  “I don’t know.  I do know that it’s been at least five years since he got laid, though, and that was with that weird alien hooker we gave a ride to back in the Odrax system.  So he’ll probably wait long enough for that!”  He finished the rest of his drink and set it down for a refill while Alluro chuckled.

 

“Ah, yes.  I remember that.  He mentioned that he gave her his ‘own ride’ which I found… interesting, considering that she was green and her mouth looked more an eel’s than a Lunatac’s.”

 

“Guess he really wanted to suck face!” TugMug laughed while Alluro laughed with him.  He picked up his newly refilled drink and gave it a hearty swig.  “I wouldn’t mind that myself, but not with a catfish woman.  Nope, give me a nice busty graviton babe with pink hair that knows how to cook, and I’ll be good to go.”

 

“So you’re saying you’d settle down?” Alluro smirked.  “Good luck with that endeavor.  That and finding a woman, even on Tukabir, who’d put up with you.”

 

“If Chilla can put up with your arrogant pansy psi ass, a catch like TugMug has nothing to worry about!”  He then bounded off toward the crowd with a wave.  “Have a good one, Alluro!  Tell Luna I said goodbye and she’s still a bitch!”

 

TugMug’s boisterous voice carried over the crowd, but fortunately not as far as to Luna herself.  She was with Amok, Vultureman, and Psiarik speaking to one of Frostor’s higher ranking officers and one of the local magistrates from the neighboring city.  TugMug’s voice did carry far enough, however, to be overheard by both RedEye and Lushara.  “Your friend is quite the character,” Lushara remarked to RedEye, shaking her head.  “None of us know just what to make of him, whether to be offended or laugh our asses off.  He’s colorful even for a graviton.”

 

RedEye chortled.  “We’ve known him for years and we still don’t know.  But he’s a good fighter, and despite his more unique habits, he was a valuable part of our team.  He’s strong even for a first-mooner, and knows how to handle cybernetics and weaponry.  And it is fun to watch him bend Luna out of shape.”

 

Smirking, Lushara said, “I get the feeling that all of your crew makes a hobby out of that.  Even you, the ‘quiet’ one.”

 

“Amok is the quiet one.  I’m just observant.  I don’t see a point in saying anything for the sake of just talking.  Luna and Alluro do enough of that for everyone.”  He shook his head.  “If I never have to hear about the ‘next great plan’ or ‘if I only had my grandmother’s belt’ or Alluro talking about the DarkSide bees or the Egora talisman again it’ll be too soon.”

 

Lushara eyed him curiously.  “Does that mean you’re thinking of following TugMug’s lead of moving on?”

 

“That depends,” he said, looking back at her.

 

“On what?”

 

He straightened and smiled at her in a way that was, for RedEye, unusually forward and flirtatious.  “On whether or not I have reason to.”

 

Lushara tipped her drink to her lips, colored fashionably with dark green lipstick that made a pretty contrast with her pale darkling skin and shock of maroon-red hair, and matched the subtle powder she had shaded the area above her eyes with.  “What reason would you need?  Something to do or accomplish, or simply just someone asking you to?”

 

“I don’t have any specific plans, and no one’s said anything to me about it.”

 

“Okay then.”  She put a hand on his arm.  Her fingers were thick and large like all dark-mooners’, but in comparison hers were noticeably more slender and feminine than his.  “Consider yourself asked.”

 

RedEye was surprised at how readily his next response, and the warmth of feeling behind the smile that accompanied it, came.  “Then consider me staying.”

 

 

Nearly three weeks had passed since the Battle of the Swords.  His turn of Third Earth guardianship duty over, Lynx-O returned to New Thundera for the first time since Snoelle’s return and the epic battle that had secured a lasting peace between the Thundercats, Mutants, and Lunatacs.  Cheetara had taken over his post in the Tower of Omens, and after a long ride on the Feliner, Lynx-O was glad to be back home.  The others had kept him up to date on all that had happened in his absence, but he looked forward to the chance to speak with their newest addition in person.  As the oldest Thundercat, Lynx-O was the only one who actually remembered the era from which she originated.  The reign of Lord Katan had ended in his youth.  As such, he hoped that they would be able to relate on some level and learn much from one another. 

 

Snarf led him to the chamber, formerly guest quarters, that now belonged to Snoelle.  He rapped lightly on the door.  “Snoelle, are you in there?”

 

“She’s downstairs,” WilyKit said from behind them as she came down the hall.  “With Panthro, as usual.”  She smirked and then greeted Lynx-O warmly.  “Welcome back.  You sure missed a lot while you were on Third Earth.”

 

“Indeed,” he replied.  “It seems all the excitement was here.  Third Earth was very quiet, although it was nice to spend some time catching up with Pumyra and Pumari, and then Bengali afterward.”

 

“You two really missed an experience at the Battle of the Swords.  Though if it had gone as badly as we thought it would for a while, at least you and Bengali were safe and far from it over on Third Earth.”

 

“Brrr, I know I was worried!” said Snarf.  “I’m sure glad we turned that around in time.”

 

“As is all of New Thundera, I’m sure,” Lynx-O said.  “I’m looking forward to meeting our new Thundercat.  Snarf was just going to introduce me to her.  You said she’s downstairs with Panthro?”

 

“Yeah.  Those two spend a lot of time together, if you know what I mean.”  WilyKit winked, and although Lynx-O could not see it, he certainly caught the wryness in her tone.

 

“From what I’ve heard, she’s a rather attractive snow leopard as well as a fine Thundercat.  I can see why a lady like that would catch his attention.”

 

“But you ought to not tease him too much,” Snarf pointed out in the lecturing tone he still took with WilyKit, her brother, and Lion-O at times, even though they had not been children for years.

 

“I don’t.  I’m happy for Panthro and her if it works out.  Everyone deserves to find happiness,” said WilyKit.

 

“Snarf snarf, on that I agree completely.  Now if only we could get that stodgy Azandi to leave Lion-O alone about Cheetara and Chet, we’d be all set.”

 

“And if you’re calling him stodgy, you know he’s an uptight stick in the mud,” WilyKit teased, while Lynx-O let out a good-natured laugh.

 

“I’m glad to see that recent events haven’t dampened your sense of humor any, WilyKit.  How are you and your brother doing?”

 

“We’re all right.  Mumm-Ra and Torlei didn’t really hurt us so much as trap us, although that magic telekinetic energy of hers burned like heck.  Once the adrenaline of the battle wore off, we both slept for almost a day straight while the Thundrainium exposure worked its way out of our systems.”  She continued as they made their way down Cat’s Lair’s grand staircase to the main floor.  “I think we both learned our lesson about spelunking in old ruins that are haunts for the Ancient Spirits of Evil, even if we think they’re empty.”

 

“They certainly aren’t forces that should be underestimated,” Lynx-O agreed.  The trio came into a sitting room where they found Snoelle and Panthro together on a couch in the midst of an intense conversation.  They looked up and stopped talking when they came in. 

 

“Hi,” Panthro greeted them, while Snoelle smiled. 

 

“Snarf, WilyKit—is this the last Thundercat I’ve yet to meet?”

 

Snarf stood proudly, even though that brought him only to mid-thigh on the taller Thundercats accompanying him.  “Yes.  Snoelle, this is Lynx-O.  He joined us back on Third Earth.  Like Bengali and Pumyra, he was one of the survivors that escaped on a Berbil ship.”

 

Snoelle rose to her feet and bowed gracefully before him.  “It’s an honor to meet you, fellow Thundercat.  I’ve heard a lot about you from your friends.”

 

“And I you,” Lynx-O replied, bowing back.   “How lucky it is that you survived after all this time, and that New Thundera has one of its snow leopards back!  Your arrival has given us hope that your clan may not be lost forever after all.”

 

“I can only hope,” she said with a wistful smile.  “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.  I hear that you knew Lord Katan?”

 

“I knew of him, yes.  I was a cub during his reign.  I hadn’t quite reached adulthood when Lord Claudus took the mantle of leadership from his ill father.  Lord Katan passed on to the astral about a year later.  He was a good and honorable lion, and was much beloved by all of Thundera.  More Thunderians, noble and commoner like myself alike, turned out at his funeral than you could imagine.”

 

She gave a thoughtful nod at the mention of the old Thundera’s stricter class distinctions.  “I keep forgetting that you, Pumyra, and Bengali were only citizens before Thundera was lost.  I mean no disrespect, of course, but back in my time only the nobility were made Thundercats.  It takes some getting used to remembering, but I think Lord Lion-O made a fine decision in bending that old tradition for the three of you.  Merit and skill were always qualifications, but you three have certainly proven that it’s what’s in one’s soul that counts, far more than any title.”

 

Lynx-O nodded graciously.  “Thank you.  I’d also like to say that I’m so sorry for the loss of your kin.  I knew a number of magistrates on the city council back in my days on the old Thundera, and several of the snow leopards that did their business in the capital.  They were fine cats, all of them.  It grieved me deeply that they refused to listen to Lord Claudus and Jaga’s urgings to leave Thundera before it was too late.  Many of us tried to convince them that they should follow their instincts and flee, but they were steadfastly loyal to their clan leaders.  Beyond trying to change their minds, they wouldn’t hear of not standing by them.  Sad as it is that they perished, I must respect them for that conviction.”

 

“You have to respect anyone that holds the Code of Thundera that close.  It’s just a damn shame it turned out that way.”  Panthro laid a hand on Snoelle’s shoulder.  “It sounds like you and Lynx-O have a lot of things you’d like to talk about.  Do you want us to leave you be?”

 

“Oh, I couldn’t throw you out,” Snoelle said, while WilyKit nudged Snarf with her knee, an amused look in her eyes.

 

Lynx-O’s keen hearing also detected the shuffle, and he could guess at its meaning, although he chose not to comment on it.  “I’d be happy to sit down and talk with all of you.  Snarf is almost as old as I am, so he might be able to help me fill in a few gaps if you have questions.”

 

“Sure,” Snarf said, hopping onto a chair and settling in.  “I’d be happy to, snarf snarf.”

 

WilyKit leaned on the side of Snarf’s chair.  “I’d like to stay too, if you don’t mind.  I like hearing about Old Thundera, since I was too young to remember much about it beyond what I saw as a kitten here in Cat’s Lair.”

 

“I don’t mind at all,” Snoelle said.

 

“Sounds like fun,” agreed Panthro.

 

“In that case, let’s make ourselves comfortable,” Lynx-O said, and settled into a chair to answer the first of Snoelle’s questions.

 

 

“You’re absolutely sure, Chilla?” Alluro asked.  The two of them were alone in his private suite in the MoonTower, her surprisingly reticent and sullen while he was simply stunned.

 

“Sure enough.  I made that stupid healer test it three different ways, and they were all positive.”  She held out one pale blue arm that had a mark from where blood had been drawn.  “I’m having a baby.  Yours.”

 

Alluro let out a long breath.  “I just can’t believe it.  I thought we were careful.  I knew you were in season, but…”

 

“Altheus was more than happy to point out that the ‘withdrawal’ method only has an eighty-eight percent success rate, and asked me why if I was that concerned, we didn’t use something else.  He recommended some pill for you men to take called the ‘Silver Bottle.’  I guess that’s what it comes in or something.”

 

“Eighty-eight?” Alluro scoffed.  “That can’t be right.  This is hardly the first time you’ve used me to scratch your proverbial itch at that point in your cycle, even if it is the first that we’ve really considered our relationship any more than…”  His voice trailed off, as words to classify whatever his relationship with Chilla currently was failed him.  The truth was that although they had admitted to an emotional component to it since the Battle of the Swords, they had not really bothered to define what it was.  Instead he just wrinkled his nose and challenged the healer’s statistics, which were easier to argue with.  “Anyway, cross-race matches have a far lower fertility rate than same-race ones, and we never used any more than the basic avoidance all those years on Third Earth when we would,” his brow rose slightly as he considered a euphemism that would not be too vulgar or insulting, “seek one another’s company for whatever reason.  Eighty-eight is probably for a pure race mating.”

 

Chilla’s expression darkened further.  “No, that’s seventy-six according to him.  He even offered to show me research citations to back it up.  Apparently ever since the disasters, birth and reproduction research and data are a big deal, since there’s this push to restore the Lunatac population.”

 

“Humph.  I suppose they ought to be pleased we’ve done our part for the greater good, then.”

 

“Except that I had no warning that I’d be playing that part.”  Chilla folded her arms across her chest with a sullen glower.  As she did, she wondered how long it would be before her belly was so huge that they had something to rest on. 

 

Meanwhile, Alluro turned to the side with an odd look on his face.  “Nor did I.  Funny, less than a month ago when we came here, we had no idea that we’d find any ties to our past here on the Moons.  Finding out I had a grown son I never knew about was shocking enough, but now this…”

 

“Yes.”  Chilla let out a frosty and cynical breath.  “Luna recommended I send you to the healer for a refresher course on the basics of protection, since the concept apparently eluded you.”

 

“She said what?”  Alluro’s voice rose indignantly.  “Why that little—wait a minute, she knows?  You told Luna before me?”

 

“Of course not!” Chilla exclaimed, none too pleased at his accusing tone.  “Luna and Selene ambushed me into eating breakfast with them, and much as I didn’t want to, I figured it’d be stupid to be rude to the queen that’s giving me free room and board, so I sat through it.”  She unfolded her arms and paced over to the mirror, where she could see her own aggravated expression along with Alluro’s.  “I mentioned I wasn’t feeling well, and you know Luna, she’s always nagging for details.  I said a couple of things and they started armchair diagnosing me as pregnant.  I went to the healer to get a professional opinion that would shut them up.  I didn’t expect him to prove me wrong instead.”

 

The curl of insult and disgust upon Alluro’s lips softened to a general frown.  “So you didn’t have any idea, either?”  His ear twitched with curiosity.  He knew Chilla was less in touch with her feelings than most women, but she was also a woman that prided herself on her physical shape, so the notion that she would have missed what he imagined would be obvious signals of pregnancy to a female surprised him.

 

“No!  I thought I was just run down or something, and the dessert last night didn’t agree with me.”  She sat down on the bed and sighed.  “It doesn’t matter now, anyway.  Now we have to figure out what to do about this.”  She looked up at Alluro.  “I don’t expect you to fall at my feet, declare undying love, and marry me, or anything.  I know you too well.  What I do expect is you to acknowledge the child and treat it with the same regard you’ve given Psiarik, even if this one isn’t pre-raised and married to a queen that gives you perks as a result of it.”

 

His eyes narrowed at her cold and pragmatic tone.  “I’m insulted that you think you need to say that.  You say you know me well enough; well, you ought to know that I’m not that cold, not to you anyway, or my kin.”

 

Chilla stood up again.  “Look, I’m just saying what I expect out of it.  Don’t read more into it than that.”

 

“You know how loyal I was to Torlei,” Alluro snapped back at her, his ego still quite bruised.  “And I thought I made it clear how important Psiarik is to me now that I know about him.  If I had known about him back then, and we hadn’t been run off the moons, I would’ve married his mother.”

 

“Of course you would’ve!  She was your meal ticket to a place in the nobility and away from Luna once and for all!  You didn’t love her.”

 

His expression darkened further.  “That wouldn’t have been the only reason.”

 

“Whatever,” Chilla said with exasperation.  “My point is that I know this situation isn’t the same.”

 

“You’re right.  It isn’t.”  Alluro straightened haughtily and gave Chilla a pointed look.  “Like you said, I didn’t love Lurella.”

 

A silence fell over them as the underlying meaning of Alluro’s words sank in, and Chilla blinked, stunned.  “You’re saying you—”

 

“Gods, yes,” Alluro said, exasperated at both at her and himself.  He supposed he had known he had feelings of that depth for Chilla for some time, especially since they had connected so closely after the Battle of the Swords, but he just needed a proverbial kick in the pants to come out and admit it.  “I do love you, Chilla… difficult as you are.”

 

“Romantic, insulting me and saying you love me at the same time,” she retorted with raised eyebrows.  “And you’re supposed to be the suave one of our crew.”

 

He mirrored her dubious look.  “A woman like you hardly makes it easy.”  A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.  “I suppose that’s part of the reason why.  You are quite the challenge.  And that isn’t an insult.”  As he watched her, Chilla found herself unable to come up with words to respond, and after a moment he filled the silence with another query.  “So with that little matter cleared up, if I was to do the ‘right thing’ and ask you to be my wife and make at least one of my children legitimate, would you accept?”  The look in his eyes intensified as he then added, “And not only for the child’s sake, but because you wanted to?  My feelings are out on the table, so where do yours stand?”

 

Chilla tapped her fingers anxiously against her arm, increasingly uncomfortable under his gaze.  She knew he was not using his hypnotic powers on her, but she almost wished that he was.  At least then whatever she said might not come back to haunt her and make her feel foolish and weak for trusting a self-admitted manipulator.  “I—I want to say yes,” she admitted.  “I want this… whatever we’ve got… to work out.  But I don’t want to be made a fool of.”  Her eyes were both hard and vulnerable at the same time, a strange dichotomy that fascinated Alluro and made him desire her all the more.  “If I say yes, don’t make me regret falling in love with you.”

 

A smile that was both heartfelt and smug spread across Alluro’s face as Chilla backhandedly admitted that she felt as strongly for him as he did for her.  He took her hands into his, and stroked her white-gloved fingers with tenderness and affection.  “I wouldn’t dream of it, dear Chilla.  So when do we make our announcement that the king’s father is going to be married?”

 

“Tomorrow,” Chilla replied with a wry grin.  “Let Luna stew in her conjecture for a night about how many ways I’m going to frost you where it counts before we disappoint her.”

 

Alluro chuckled.  “Love puts you in a good mood, Chilla.  You’re even feeling charitable toward the old bat.”

 

“I blame hormones.”

 

“Works for me,” Alluro replied playfully, and drew Chilla in for a lingering and passionate kiss.