Spa Day

Alastor had no idea the depth of Manea's introspection, how far her pensive thoughts had taken her in the weeks that followed their daughter's birth and the debacle that the gleaning ceremony had been. He'd done his own thinking and reflecting in time, but the ordeal had shaken Manea far more than it had himself. Ironically, the ensuing argument that they'd had in the heat of the moment had rent his heart open and left him vulnerable to considering ideals and beliefs beyond himself. He had found himself wanting to believe Manea's family's beliefs, that their children weren't simply gone forever, that there was a future where he could see them and be with them once more. That perhaps he wasn't damned for all eternity and there was some otherworldly adventure waiting for him when his time came and he drew his last breath on this mortal plane. It sure as hell beat the alternative at the very least! And it was Manea's love and devotion to him that had broken him down and gotten him to come around to at least considering the possibility of something more and forces far beyond his control that maybe didn't have such tangible proof—although her explanation of how his own mutations and gifts hadn't manifested until he had joined his soul with hers as a Mendacium was pretty damn good evidence to her point.

The two lovers floated there in the hot, steaming waters for some time, just gazing adoringly at one another. Every time Manea grinned at him, he would grin back, and as she pressed a tender kiss to his lips, so too would the dire brute move his mouth against hers in harmony. All the while her paws continued to roam across the back of his neck and over his broad shoulders, pulling gentle hums of delight from the wolf, treating him to the same massaging affections he was still showering her with. Manea spoke, explaining her own history with the Mendacium beliefs of soul mates, and how she had been led to believe that it was some far-flung notion bordering unachievable. Alastor's focus was on nothing but Manea while she spoke, bearing her soul and her past to him in this intimate moment, his massive black paws continuing their work along his wife's back from shoulder to rump, occasionally flexing his digits to add some light scritching of his claws to the sensual massage. He felt her paw move up his neck back to his velveteen ear again while she gazed at him with nothing short of pure love, his own obsidian gaze shining for her alone while he tilted his head almost comically and leaned into her touch.

While Manea played with his ear, Alastor murred in response under his breath, an adoring smile painted on his visage when she told him that she felt she had been drawn to Boreas for him. She told him a lovely tale of how her grandmother taught her the marriage ceremony she'd performed for him, how her grandparents had been soulmates and how they had been the example of what she wanted in her own life—then honored him by claiming she had been right when she found Alastor. The dark brute chuckled, his paws moving to wrap around Manea's waist beneath the water's surface, keeping her body held close to his while she straddled his lap, her limber tail brushing over his hind legs beneath the water to tease him with gentle strokes and tickles. His paws flexed, dancing his claws over the tops of her hips in reply while he leaned in to brush his muzzle back against the side of hers while she nuzzled and kissed over his face. Their chests and stomachs were pressed together beneath the water while she fit herself to him, wrapping herself around his body like a robe while they held on to one another and showered the other in loving little affections. This moment was perfect and intimate, and Alastor's dark eyes slowly slid closed to savor it with his beloved wife.

There was quiet between the two for a spell while they cuddled in the natural hot spring, just content to enjoy one another's presence. Manea was the first to break the silence, and when she did, her apology drew a quiet grumble from the dire brute. "Don't do that, blaming yourself like this was your fault," he spoke in low, husky tones accented by a reverberating growl in his voice. "I don't think anything could have really prepared me for that. It's easy to think about, talk about, but living it is radically harder. I don't blame you, Manea. But if it helps, I accept your apology." Alastor shifted his muzzle up, nuzzling her cheek so he could reach one of her ears with delicate bites with careful teeth rolling the appendage between them. "I'm sorry too, for not handling myself responsibly, for abandoning you and Fiametta like I did, for stealing away that day which should have been full of love and joy from you." He could never give her back that day or make it right, but he could do better for her and their future children so this didn't happen again—assuming Manea still even wanted to have any more children with him after the trauma he'd subjected her to.

"Alastor Mendacium"