Smoke and death filled his sensitive nose causing his whiskers to twitch at the unwelcoming scent. Chimneys of fire and smoke rose from behind the city walls to the heavens filling the skies and blocking out the sun. In his tent, Tygra, 1st prince of Thundera, spoke with his most trusted generals on a strategy to end the siege of Savannis. Long months had seen his soldiers long away from their families and homes, and Tygra was eager to end the bloodshed without costing more lives. He stood leaning over his desk and listened while his generals offered their advice.
"A few months more and Cheetan will have to surrender, or risk destroying his entire kingdom; the king is not a crazed fool that he would risk everything, knowing only their cats would be wiped out from a continued struggle." Panthro announced his thinking to the prince.
"If the damned cheetah was no crazed fool, then he wouldn't have attacked a Thunderan outpost to begin this accursed war in the first place." Grune argued haughtily. Tygra couldn't stop the smirk that claimed his lips as he took a drink of agave wine and raised an eyebrow at Panthro waiting for his response. Panthro shot a glare at his friend and fellow general then looked back to his prince and also friend.
"Cub," Tygra's eyebrows raised higher at the playful nickname Panthro and Grune had bestowed upon him when he first began training with them as a young cub ready to make his mark on the world. In the presence of others Panthro would never address his superior so familiarly, but among trusted friends, he claimed such honor. "Attacking Savannis head on would be an unfavorable strategy. Even if we could blow enough holes in their walls with the Thundertanks, they would still hold the high ground and we would be as defenseless as a new born kitten, a strategy I know you are never in favor of."
Tygra considered the wisdom in Panthro's words. He never favored a frontal assault if he could more easily use stealth to subdue an enemy, and the foolishness and cost of attacking from the low ground was the first thing he learned in his military strategy lessons, but he wanted to see this war over and his men returned home. He looked down at the map showing their position relative to that of the walled fortress of Savannis and picked up an ivory war piece to twiddle it between his fingers, a thinking habit of his. He looked around his tent at the parchment maps and letters, battle hardened armor, and other trinkets brought from home and weighed his options. A frontal attack would cost more lives than he wanted to lose, but the siege was already taking a toll on the spirits of his men, short of a victory or requesting female camp followers from Thundera, the morale would continue to decline: a dangerous thing in war.
"General Lynx-O, what do you think?" Tygra asked the old lynx who had trained him in the arts of stealth on the battle field. Though Grune and Panthro were good friends and well-respected mentors, Tygra had always found himself more drawn to Lynx-O's expertise. As the general was about to speak, the flaps of Tygra's tent were opened slightly.
"Apologies for the interruption, my Prince, but there is a messenger from King Cheetan." The infantry soldier nodded to the cloaked figure beside him. Tygra nodded to the soldier, who led the person closer before disappearing back out of the tent. Grune, Lynx-O, and Panthro stood to the sides of the tent while Tygra walked around his desk and leaned back on the center of it.
"I would know the form of the messenger sent from the king." Tygra addressed the form who seemed to take a deep breath before placing their hands at their hood and pulling it back to reveal a pretty face and mesmerizing eyes the color of a tangerine sunset with flecks of gold dancing in the daylight. She stared at him boldly but her fear was belayed in the slight tremor of her hands. A predatory smirk rested on his lips and he let his eyes fall quickly to the clasp of her cloak then back up to her eyes. She released a scoff and rolled her eyes but unclasped her cloak and let it drop to the floor. Tygra leaned his head back a little and ran his tongue over his canines as he appraised her. From what he could tell, she had long blonde hair unbound, meaning she probably wasn't a warrior because so much hair flying had to impede her running speeds. Her body was clad in a light and dark brown top and shorts which showed off her goddess blessed figure. Like all cheetahs, she had a slim, muscled stomach and powerful thighs and calves that told of hours of running and training. Her arms were toned as well, telling him that she had some training with weights and perhaps weapons. The top she wore barely seemed to cover her bountiful breasts, and Tygra found himself hardening at the thought of their movements while she ran and wondered how they would do so as she rode him…or moved beneath him; he wasn't picky when it came to bed sport.
"I didn't know Savannis soldiers wore such garments for war." He flashed her a brilliant smile to which she made no reply.
"I am not a soldier of Savannis." Her voice was filled with a huskiness that he was sure was meant to entice a cat to his doom. She tipped her chin up and Tygra saw a fire in her eyes that seemed to be barely kept at bay.
"Then for once your king chooses the right type of message to send to Thundera." Tygra joked and heard the stifled laugh of Panthro. The woman turned her icy glare on Panthro who promptly straightened.
"I am Cheetara, daughter of Cheetan and princess of Savannis." She locked her jaw and tilted her chin up, giving a haughty glare to all informing them that she clearly thought they were beneath her.
'Oh yeah, this one has fire in her,' Tygra thought, and he liked it. "Leave us." Tygra directed to his generals. Whatever message the woman had, Tygra had a much better time getting her to speak truth without an audience.
"My Prince—" Lynx-O moved to advise against being alone with an unknown, but Tygra shook his head. Lynx-O sighed and all the generals exited the tent, glaring at the woman in warning should she try anything.
"Say what you will about his military and political sense, but that boy's lower head far outthinks his upper one." Grune proclaimed loudly enough for Tygra and Cheetara to hear. Tygra looked down and chuckled a bit. It wasn't too false of an accusation. Once he was assured they were a good distance away, Tygra pushed himself off of the desk and grabbed his cup of wine. He filled it and offered it to the cheetah but she shook her head.
"I don't partake in libations." She said then paused and looked at the cup before grabbing it. "Not usually anyway." She took a drink to still her frayed nerves. Tyra walked back to his desk and poured himself a cup. Once she had finished the drink, he took it from her hands and set it next to the pitcher of wine then returned to his perch leaning against his desk.
"What message do you bear, Cheetara, princess of Savannis?" Cheetara shivered slightly at his voice. He was no flowery prince playing at being a commander yet refusing to get his paws dirty; he was a warrior, a cat full grown who would give no quarter: thoughts that did nothing to ease her quivering stomach.
"A message of surrender—" She spoke, amazed her voice did not crack with all of the nerves she felt. Tygra's ears perked up as he gestured for her to keep speaking. "—an end to the war and Thundera's removal from Savannis soil,"
"Your father wishes to end a war he foolishly started with unprovoked attack on a Thunderan outpost?" Tygra scoffed. "Tell me then Princess, what terms does he seek that would benefit Thundera?"
"Marriage." Cheetara spoke the word she had been dreading since her father had sent her on horseback across the lush grassland to the Thunderan encampment. Part of her was eager to see the war over, so many people had suffered needlessly to her father's ambition, but another part of her was terrified at the man she was being offered to. Tygra sat up a little straighter and looked her in the eye. She saw something twinkling behind them, something she could not name, but she was wary of what it could mean.
"So the sins of the father are to be visited on daughter." He watched her for any sign of deceit or fear. Tygra was no fool to how political arrangements worked; he knew his marriage would most likely be to a highborn feline from a wealthy clan in Thundera, but he had no interest in wedding a woman who trembled at the mere thought of him. He liked his women willing. Tygra saw emotions flicker across her face, anger, uncertainty, and nervousness, but never once did her shoulders slump or her ears lay back.
'A useful skill for court.' He thought. Tygra considered her proposal, weighing advantages and potential problems to wedding her.
"Do you have any brothers?" He asked her and she shook her head. "Any sisters?" Again she shook her head.
"I am the only child of Cheetan."
"Are you certain of that? No illegitimate heirs?"
"None," she paused. "That I know of, but trust me, if my father had any other heir he would be proclaiming their worth through the streets." Tygra heard the bitter edge of her words and felt a stab of sympathy. Perhaps he was not the only one with a troubling relationship with their father.
"Any cousins, male or female?"
"What does it matter?" She looked at him skeptically. Why would he ask about her relations before giving answer?
"Better to know now if my reign could be challenged by one with valid claim." He narrowed his eyes at her in silent warning. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped a little.
"You seek the throne of Savannis. But why would the first prince—" She stopped midsentence realizing her error. She had heard rumor that the youngest son of King Claudus would ascend the throne of Thundera, but she had never believed he would actually slight his son so much as to deny the eldest his birthright.
"I am no crowned prince." She could hear the bitterness in his tone. She categorized this subject in her mind for later; perhaps it would serve useful.
"Is that why you lead this war? To claim kingdom of your own?" She barely kept the snarl from her voice. Were the lives lost in Savannis a result of not one cat's greed, but two?
"I led this war because I am a prince of Thundera and to prove that I am no untested youth. If I am not to be king, then I will gain my worth and honor on the battlefield with my men, as all without privileged crown do." Heated determination burned in his eyes and words, but Cheetara could see the sadness lingering in his gaze, too deep for one to notice, if they were not looking for it.
"And your men, would they support such claim to the throne?" She tilted her chin slightly in feigned innocent question.
"You think I would move against my brother?"
"Men have waged wars for less, and I will admit," she looked down quickly then looked back up. "You have more just cause than others to do so."
Tygra crossed his arms over his chest and considered her words and the woman before him; she had a point, and he would be lying if he said he hadn't thought of claiming the throne of Thundera for his own when he was younger. It was still a sore spot between himself and his father, and even his brother had picked up on the tension. Tygra's nose furrowed and a growl almost escaped. He had heard some of the generals praising his commitment to his studies from a young age, while Lion-O played with tech and chased Snarf through the walls of the palace and streets of Thundera. Often he had listened, concealed from sight, as Panthro grumbled about Lion-O failing to show for his lessons. Rage and anger were trusted companions to Tygra in youth. Even now, when hearing praise from his generals or men for his ferocity on the battlefield and his commitment to his troops, Tygra had to wonder if they would support a civil war. But mounting a military strike against his brother, Tygra hadn't sunken so low as to consider that.
"I would not start a civil war against my brother; it would see needless death of good people. Besides, now an opportunity has afforded itself." He smiled and pushed himself off of the desk to saunter towards her. Cheetara felt her shoulders stiffen against her desire and she watched as his body moved with the grace of a predator on the hunt. For a moment, Cheetara wondered what it would be like to fall prey to such a magnificent cat.
'I'll know soon enough,' she thought bitterly.
"Tell me, is that the bargain he offers? An end to the war, his daughter as offering to unite the thrones of Savannis and Thundera, with a separate Thunderan prince as heir to each throne?" Tygra grazed his paw up her arm and shoulder, feeling her soft fur and her slight shiver. She looked up at him and licked her lips.
"I'm unsure if Savannis' throne is part of the bargain." Her soft voice filled the air between them; she found it slightly harder to draw breath with him standing in such proximity.
"Seeing as he sent the first messenger, I don't believe Cheetan is in such position to negotiate." He leaned closer.
"True." She whispered in response. His paw ran up her delicate throat, finally resting beneath her chin. He tipped her chin up so that she was looking directly up at him. He was so close that he could feel the puffs of her breath, sweetened by the wine, on his lips. He craved to taste her rosy lips; he craved to taste a little more…if it was offered.
"Those will be the terms of my agreement. How am I to meet your father?"
"At first light, the gates will be opened to you and three of your trusted generals. No more, or such will be seen as a sign of aggression, and thus the deal is forfeit. You will…negotiate terms with my father, and if all is agreeable, the deal will be struck and our marriage to follow soon after." Her eyes flickered back and forth between his and his lips.
"And what insurance do I have of honest intentions?" He wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her closer to him. Cheetara placed a hand on his chest to steady herself and felt the burn of his warm skin beneath her paw. She could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady as a war drum. She could feel his desire straining against his leather pants and a sweet tingling she had never felt before ran through her belly giving her a dropping sensation and a dizziness that reminded her of the first time she had stopped running at her top speed without taking time to ease her descent.
"What insurance do you desire?" He scoffed at her words and she looked confused.
"Those are dangerous words, kitten. And surely you know there is only one thing any man desires from such a beautiful cat." Cheetara swallowed nervously as he leaned closer and continued to speak. "Something that when once given, can neither be returned nor forgotten."
He sealed their lips together in what began as a gentle kiss. Cheetara could not help closing her eyes and squeezing her stomach and legs at the tingling feelings which assaulted her. The hand at her chin slid into her hair, gripping gently before positioning her head sideways. The arm at her waist pulled her deeper into his strong embrace and Cheetara knew he could easily crush her with the strength of his muscular arms; arms which she tentatively ran her paws up, excited a little more when he growled as her claws gently scraped across his fur and down his back. Tygra began to roll his hips against her in a slow wave like the tides of the ocean; he sensed that she was untouched and didn't want to scare her. The sweet tingling feeling between her thighs increased and instinct saw her rolling her hips in response to his. She had heard from female handmaidens of sweet touches leading to instinctual urges, but she had never felt them for herself; no man would risk her father's wrath for an innocent touch when easier and more experienced fruits lay at arm's reach. Cheetara was shaken from her saddening thoughts when Tygra picked her up by her bottom and his arms wrapped her legs around his trim waist. Without breaking their kiss, he set her down on his dark wood desk, pushing objects out of their way to make her more comfortable. Neither one heard the crash of the clay wine vase onto the grassy floor. Tygra continued to roll his hips against her, loving the feel of her powerful legs wrapped against him. He pressed deeper, feeling the beckoning heat of her core with each gentle thrust. He yearned to be rid of the barriers between them and burry himself fully inside her, but he knew he had to stop, or he would take her right on the desk with his men easily within reach to hear their pleasure: a disgraceful way to take such a beautiful princess. Hating his sense of nobility that would see only his hand as company tonight, Tygra gave one more sound kiss before pulling back and letting her legs drop. Hurt and confusion flashed across her face at his rejection. She turned her head to stop him from seeing the welling tears in her eyes and he let her hide from him. He took a step back and offered a hand to help her down. She refused and hopped down by herself and walked over to grab her discarded cloak. She began walking to the opening of his tent when his words stopped her.
"A wooden desk in a commander's tent with rowdy soldiers a moan's distance away is no way to take a lady, especially not a princess. My mother would see me hung from the heavens for such offense." He spoke, hoping to convey his reasons for stopping. Odd, since he usually didn't give explanations to the women who shared his bed. Then again most women who shared his bed came so because they wanted to know if the rumors of pleasure in his sheets were true, and also to see if they could earn any advance to being a prince's wife or Lion-O's queen for good services rendered.
"And your mother, would she also be proud of the ways you had taken other women to your bed?" Cheetara knew she was being unreasonably catty but she couldn't control her feelings of shame and insult. Her waspish tongue was a trait her caretaker and friend Ama had warned her about often. Cheetara felt a little guilt at the pain that flashed over his face, but the pain was quickly replaced with a colder mask.
"I have taken all my women before you on a soft bed…or a garden surrounded by beautiful flowers; I will award my wife no less courtesy." He strained wife to remind her of their agreement; as if she could ever forget the way he held her.
"How considerate of you, Prince Tygra." She praised herself for successfully keeping the bite of defensive embarrassment from her speech. He nodded as if recognizing the ceasefire she had called. He walked passed her to the opening of his tent and called for someone. The soldier who had led her to the prince's tent appeared again.
"Make sure she gets back to the gate safely." He spoke to the soldier who nodded. "And Princess," She locked eyes with him, recognizing a dark promise that confirmed that their moment of passion was far from over. "I will see you at first light. Sleep well." His words taunted her with humor, as if he knew that her thoughts would be preoccupied with him all night in eager impatience for what the morning would bring. She curtsied graciously as her mother had taught her and walked out of the tent.
'Thunderan bastard.' She grumbled in her head as the soldier helped her mount her horse and saw her back to the gates of her home.