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--Tempest--

I didn’t need to ask, when I saw her in the morning. She had him all to herself, and the two of them had made love. There were no other words for it. She looked so happy, so pleased with herself, and with him. I knew they’d gotten close, that it was a matter of time. I was surprised, and happy for her, that they could have the time to themselves, even in the midst of all of this. Frankly, I was relieved. He ... he needed something good, something happy in all of this. I was glad she could give him that.

She didn’t say a word about it, just asked me to help the two clean up before the orderlies started making their rounds. I didn’t ask, just gave the two of them the help, and got back in bed. It hurt less, moving around and doing things, than it had before. But it was still tiring. I hated it, feeling weak and feeble. Couldn't stand it. But I was getting better. So was he.

By the time they came around, he was honestly back asleep. Mira was curled up beside him, and while they offered each other a glance, and a grin, the machokes didn’t say a word about it, just moved on to the next room.

They probably knew. But they’d keep it to themselves. That was good enough for me.

Claire smiled, when she saw Mira, congratulated her, and him. She was genuinely happy for them, from the top of her ears to the tip of her tail. I could tell she was probing his thoughts, but whatever she thought or felt about it, she kept well to herself.

Mira, for her part, had her ribbons wrapped around master’s arms all morning, her head on his chest, looking up at him as though he might disappear. As though she were afraid she might have been dreaming. It was adorable, in its own way.

Perhaps more exciting than that, though, was that they told him he was going to be released today! Fresh air, and somewhere that wasn’t a hospital room!

--Trainer--

There was a sense of profound relief at being put into a boot, instead of the cast I had before. It meant I could really go places, at least, a little. The crutches were annoying. Impractical with the broken arm. But I got out of the hospital, and for the first time in a week, just enjoyed fresh air.

I was still essentially tethered to the place, and was escorted back to the little cabin I’d taken brief residence in before. It would be some time before I was fit to travel. But it honestly didn’t matter. I hadn’t planned on leaving before the spring. I was grateful just to not be in that hospital room.

I’d been given some instructions on taking care of Tempest. Her scars were vivid blotches of pink where the fur hadn’t grown back in yet. They were optimistic about the yet portion of it, but she’d always have a reminder of the incident.

We both would, I realized, my hand brushing against the scar along my jaw.

For the moment, it was just her and I. Alone together in the cabin for the first time since I left. I sat on the edge of the bed, regarding her from across the room as she took it upon herself to see to my things, and fetch me the medicine they’d given me.

“You’re going to get tired of doing everything for me, eventually…” I said, reaching out to take her hand. “Or is this just how we are now? Some kind of master, servant thing?”

She stared at me, a long quiet moment passing, her once vivid blue eyes a soft crimson. She couldn’t speak to me the way Claire could, and wasn’t as expressive as Mira. I was afraid the conversation would be somewhat one-sided.

“You always had my back, before. Nothing could touch me without going through you, first.” I didn’t know where I was going with it when I started talking. “And you were always so brave. No matter what we were up against. A hard fight, bad weather, rough terrain. Didn’t matter. You were there.”

“I think that’s why it hurt so much.” Her ears lowered again, and she sighed. “Because I wanted to believe I knew you better. Because I wanted to believe you didn’t mean it, but you were so adamant about it. I felt as though I’d just disappointed you all that time.”

She looked up at that, everything in her expression a vehement denial, but I silenced the voice of objection with a brush of my fingertips.

“Even if it was in the moment, and more than you wanted to say, we both know there was some grain of truth to it. Else, the thought wouldn’t have crossed your mind.” It was a painful thing to know, for both of us. “So… we need to figure this out. Who we are to each other.”

She took my hand, holding it against her cheek, though she was silent. Her ears pinned to her head, tail hanging limp, low. She wanted, I knew, to be with me. Whatever it took. Whatever she had to do. Whoever she had to be. But it couldn’t be one-sided like that. I wouldn’t let it be.

“Because you were never some meek, subservient girl. And apparently I was never strong enough to keep your interest.” She gripped my hand as I said that, and pulled it to her chest, again offering a vehement denial, her eyes locked to mine with something approaching frustration and anger, but not, I didn’t feel, directed at me.

“If you really want to do the housework and act like a pet, I can get you a maid outfit. A little collar with a bell. But that’s not going to fix what went wrong between us. You have needs, and I have needs, and we both need to understand what those are.”

She laughed, her ears perking up a little, tail swaying behind her as she moved in close, pushing me back on the bed and straddling my hips, staring down at me through bright crimson eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.” I said, grinning up at her as she ran her heavy hands down my chest. “And you know it.” She nodded, but didn’t stop, slipping under my shirt, claws scratching lightly over bare skin as she leaned in to kiss at my neck, warmth from her tongue and breath trapped between us as she rocked her hips against me.

It was a little interesting, I realized, as she sat up and regarded me. Half my size, but I didn’t feel as though I overshadowed her. Not in form, and surely not in spirit.

“Quit trying to change the subject, you little minx.” I admonished, taking her hands in mine again.

She whined, but it was playful, coupled with a coy expression as if to say “Who, me?”. But she settled down, and waited for me to speak again.

“I meant it. I could get you a maid outfit, treat you like some kind of servant, if that’s going to make you feel better. But is that really going to make you happy? Fetch this, clean that, polish my cock?” I shook my head and she laughed again. It amazed me, her voice had gone from an almost girly whine to pure feminine seduction. For a moment, I almost envied her. The awkward summer I more squeaked than spoke was gone, but not forgotten. “I know we went through a lot, but I’d like to think there’s more left to you than that. By all means, show me your loyalty, your devotion. But do it your way. How do you want things to be, between us?”

It was an important question, and she spent a long time staring down at me, before, with a slow wag of her tail, she took my hands, pulling herself off of the bed, and me to sit up. She led my unbound hand, to trace over her scars, one after another. They marred her skin, deep, and vivid. It was obvious they pained her still.

One after another, she brought my hand against, her eyes never leaving mine. They seemed to burn brighter, smoldering crimson embers in the light as she regarded me. Finally, the scars on her face. She closed her eyes as I touched them, of my own accord now, then took my hand, nuzzling against it, before guiding it to her chest.

Far from lessening her beauty, I felt they added to her charm. She took each of them for my sake, bore them proudly. Didn’t shy away. Didn’t hide from them. No. She wanted me to see them. To acknowledge them.

“You want me to be stronger, to treat you less gently. I can do that.” I said, reaching up with my good hand to catch the fur at the side of her neck. She didn’t object, instead leaning in, following me as I tugged her forward. “I can do that, but you’re going to have to learn to keep up, and I’m going to have to learn to treat you as a fighter, not just my lover. It’s going to be a bit of a shock for both of us, you realize?”

There was no hiding her eagerness at my words, her eyes locked to mine in rapt attention as I spoke. Her entire body seemed to move in concert, everything in her countenance brightening, as though the moon had come out from behind dark clouds.

“There’s a price to pay. I’m going to push you. I’m going to challenge you.” I warned her, my gaze locked to hers with an intensity I saw reflected in her own expression. “Sometimes you’re going to get hurt. Or I will. That’s just how it is. A strong fist isn’t made with weak blows.” It was a truth I’d accepted even before my first belt exam. The price was bruises, small breaks. Progress was measured all too often in pain.

I realized, in all of it, that I’d done her wrong, as a trainer. She earnestly sought to improve, and I was unwilling to push her, to truly test her. That would change. For her, at least. I’d need to talk to Claire and Mira, but that could wait.

“Where we fight doesn’t matter. How we fight does. From now on, we fight together, or we don’t fight at all.” My promise to her, and the commitment I expected in return. We were a team. It was well overdue that I respected that.

I hadn’t expected the impact it would have on her. Her answer was a wordless embrace, her whole body locked to mine in vice-tight grip. Tempest cried, as she held me, and I stroked her, my hands running down her back until the sobbing subsided.

Finally, she untangled herself from me, and brushed her hand against the scar on my cheek, freshly knit, and tender. I wanted to pull away, but I didn’t, even as her claw against me set in its wake a sensation like fire in my skin.

“We can remember what we lost,” I said, as I watched her. “We can pursue it all we want. But we aren’t who we were before. It’s up to us if that’s for better or worse. Understand?”

Her kiss was a better confirmation than anything she could have said would have been. Confident, unmistakably certain. She was where she wanted to be. I was finally who she wanted to be with. It had taken time, and was not without hardship. But I had hope that, like my broken bones, we would knit stronger for the wounds we shared.

Neither of us had the energy for much else, so she brought us food, and we cuddled in the slowly growing dark, until sleep claimed us both.

I was finally free to do something other than lay in bed… it was surprisingly nice to do so of my own choice for once.