This is a story of El-ahrairah and The Black Rabbit of Inlé. It takes place in the story Dandelion told in chapter 31.
Since I felt a bit, er, awkward, writing a story about two rabbits, the two are "gijinka-fied" in this fic.
Think of them as humans with rabbit ears. Enjoy!


It was cold in the burrow where he was sitting. So very cold.

Tremors ran up the prince's spine; he was chilled to the core. No winter he'd endured to this day could possibly compare with the numbing, mind-blowing cold he felt. He pulled his knees to his chest and shuddered harshly. Oh, how he wished he hadn't sent Rabscuttle home. The idea of having a warm body pressed against his own was, at the very least, appealing.

A sudden warmth came upon him, but it bore no relief. In fact - quite the opposite. The hot, wet feeling dripping over his cheek? It was his own blood. Only half an hour earlier, he had paid a wager to none other than The Black Rabbit of Inlé himself - his own ears. And before that? He paid the price of his tail. He had, of course, found replacements - clematis and ragwort for a tail, and dock leaves for his ears, but these modifications were far from perfect. He likely looked a fool. At least his appearance would match the way he felt.

El-ahrairah pressed his hand against his face, soon pulling it away to look at it. The sight of his own blood made him dizzy. Had he, a prince, really been reduced to this? Countless times, he had wished that he'd listened to Frith so long ago, but none more than now. He had hoped to sacrifice himself for his people, but instead, he was going to die in vain; cold, alone, and humiliated. The prince closed his eyes, praying that his demise would meet him quickly.


"El-ahrairah?" The low, mist-like voice startled the prince back to reality. The Black Rabbit stood in the doorway, watching the young prince, who hadn't the presence of mind to speak. "El-ahrairah," he repeated, "you know, you are free to leave any time you wish. I am not trying to hurt you, for I am not one of The Thousand. Stay or go, whichever you wish."

El-ahrairah, who usually came up with a clever or quick-tongued response, merely nodded, with a barely-audible mumble of 'Yes, My Lord.' The prince was not himself, and this deeply disturbed The Black Rabbit. It was then that he realized, with a shock, that up until this point, he had behaved as Elil, one of The Thousand. The older male's ears flicked, and he moved closer to the prince, pressing against him in the burrow.

"My my, dear Prince, you are very cold, indeed," mused The Black Rabbit. He pulled the shivering male into his lap, and began carressing him, warming him. El-ahrairah gasped, pressing himself against the other's torso, basking in its warmth. The way he was acting, it was certainly not dignified behaviour, especially for a prince, but it was near impossible to resist the temptation of a warm body to press against.

It was then when The Black Rabbit noticed the blood. This was greatly upsetting, indeed. He had injured this little prince.

"Are you suffering, El-ahrairah?"

The question surprised the prince. Was he suffering? Yes, he was - he felt it again. Now that The Black Rabbit's tender touches had stopped, his mind was fully on the pain he felt all over. He sighed.

"I am in great pain, My Lord, but you needn't worry, for I am sure it will soon be over," came El-ahrairah's shaky reply.

This answer did nothing to soothe the nerves of the other male. He had caused much pain to this little prince, and he would fix it, at any cost.

"I will take away your pain, Rah-roo." The Black Rabbit's own words surprised him - he'd called El-ahrairah the lapine term for "little prince". Said prince looked at the other curiously, the faintest hint of a blush on his face.


Red eyes stared into golden ones - and, although they seemed to be in a haze, one thing was certain - lips had touched on that night. Ears had been nipped, noses licked, chests touched.

And, by far the most memorable event of that night, The soul of El-ahrairah, Prince Rabbit, met with that of The Black Rabbit of Inlé's. It was beautiful; sensual.
Like clouds joining one another in the eastern sky, it felt natural, as if they'd been born for this moment.

The Prince had been pressed into, as if he were a doe. It all went by very quickly - a white-hot burst of pain came before several minutes of gasping, incredible pleasure.
It ended with a hot gush and heavy breathing.

When it was all over, the two stayed pressed against one another, all through the night.
And suddenly, winter didn't seem so cold any longer.