As the summary says, this is an epilogue to Ruins We Call Home, which I wrote years ago, under Mooncloudpanther- and never finished and even deleted for a lot of reasons I'll get into in the end notes.

Edit: I owe AndrianaWarrior7 a shout out. I had no idea any of you guys still remembered Pumilee, and the realisation some (or at least one of you) did is absolutely what inspired this!

Warnings for: nudity, vague mentions of sex ("pouncing"), pregnancy.

Being king was busy work, and utterly exhausting. Lion-O could only imagine his schedule was made that much more taxing by the ramifications of Thundera's destruction years ago.

The social infrastructure and government had been wiped out, and now they had to pick up the pieces and make it work, somehow. It was only because of WilyKit and WilyKat the kingdom even had the funds to purchase or make the tools and supplies they needed in order to rebuild the cities. While funds, currently, were one less thing he didn't have to stress about, several other matters were thrust into his attention, constantly.

"Lion-O, at least try to relax." Pumilee chided him gently from where she sat behind him, bracketing his body with her thighs. She continued kneading at his aching back, trying to rub out the knots. "You're undoing all my hard work."

"Sorry," Lion-O said for lack of anything else to say.

He wasn't going to burden her with the weight of his stress, she already did so much for him- and besides, even though she declined the title of queen, she was almost always there with him. She knew from her own experience what he was dealing with, and he had often used her as a muse to try and find solutions, some of which were creative and others were painfully simple and obvious.

An audible quiet settled over them, unspoken words they could both sense.

Lion-O closed his eyes instead, focusing on the feeling of her paws finding every point of tension on his expansive, muscular back. He couldn't help but moan as she rolled her thumb over a particularly large one plaguing his right shoulder blade. Encouraged by his noises, and aided by the hot water and steam surrounding them, she pressed the heel of her paw against it and zeroed in on it. "Ah- ah- ah, not so hard." he hissed.

"Sorry." He could tell she was determined now by the tone of her voice, how vividly he could imagine her brows furrowed together and the pursing of her lips, but she acquiesced and eased up on the pressure she applied. Her touch remained firm, but she was more careful now.

"You're spoiling me."

Pumilee paused for a brief moment. He heard her chortle quietly. "No, I'm taking care of you, silly. You do it too~"

There was still something unsaid, Lion-O could taste it when he opened his mouth to speak again- but it wasn't from him. He furrowed his brow, eyes still shut, and pondered for a moment. Pumilee didn't often hesitate to confide in him, but she did prefer to have sorted through her thoughts before she did so. Only when she couldn't make heads or tails of a situation did she consult him before she was 'ready.'

Lion-O appreciated her honesty regarding her desires and boundaries. It had taken time for them to get there, but they had.

During the couple of years after they defeated and banished Mumm-Ra once again, their relationship had grown tense and progressively more distant.

The title of queen, the expectations and arbitrary restrictions associated with it, had chafed her, badly. He knew now that it'd made her feel trapped, but at the time he'd been scared he would lose her; even run-ragged and overwhelmed with stress, he hadn't been oblivious to the rift slowly forming.

It was a little silly, looking back on it.

They were so young and inexperienced at being mates, and they had so much to learn about communication. The solution had been so simple and easy, and the relief when she finally told him and he listened- gods, they'd grown.

And there was no one he would have rather done so with. Affectionate warmth bloomed in his chest at the thought.

Lion-O trusted her not to stew in negative emotions now, to tell him when she was ready.

"Hm," she hummed, running her claws gently down his back to scout out other knots, "- where do you want me to focus now?"

"My left hip has been bothering me." he confessed.

Her paws trailed down and began searching for the source of pain. To make it easier and give her more access, he leaned forward; as soon as he did, she was able to find it. She showed little more mercy for it than his shoulder blade's, not wanting to hurt him a second time, even a little.

Lion-O moaned again, trailing off into a deep-throated hum.

Even with his eyes closed and Pumilee behind him, he could see her pleased smirk. "Sounds like I found a good spot~"

"Mmhmmn," he hummed in response.

For a several moments, she continued rubbing the spot, before pausing to knead at her paws and crack her knuckles. Then, she began to caress his back, gently carding her claws through his wet fur.

It tickled a little, he wouldn't lie.

"Mm, what's this for?" he asked, twisting his head to look at her. She had a 'lost in thought' expression on her features, all very relaxed except for the twinge of her brows occasionally drawing together; the smoothness made her look a little pouty. He raised a paw and rubbed at her knee to get her attention. "Shilling for your thoughts?"

Pumilee blinked at him as her reverie broke. Almost automatically, as though she hadn't really thought of her response, she said, "I'm pregnant."

It was Lion-O's turn to blink, taken aback.

In retrospect, he would be able to pinpoint the exact moment Pumilee's mind caught up with what she'd said, because very shortly afterwards, both of them just silently blinking at one another, her face started to burn red even through her fur and her gazed flicked to the side, fixing on a very interesting cluster of bubbly soap suds floating in the water. She shifted a little, uncomfortable- by his silent stare, or simply her realisation she saidit like that, he wasn't sure.

It took almost a full minute for him to process her words. "Wh- ... is that why you lured me into the bath?" he asked a little helplessly.

Lion-O wasn't helpless nor had he been forced in here, she only had to entice him away from the mountain of paperwork and approvals and gaggle of appointed governors with the promise of hot water and getting some alone time together. And yes, he had suspected she had an ulterior motive- pouncing him, maybe, if the hot water energised him- but he didn't really mind that.

Alone time was alone time, and they had not had much in the last few weeks, not even when they went to bed.

After all, he often stayed up late into the night, and she went to bed and woke up early. It was nice to be able to scoop her up into his arms and snuggle her when he was at his most exhausted. He always fell asleep within moments.

His mind continued racing a mile a minute.

What were the symptoms of pregnancy? Cheetara had been pregnant a couple years ago, she was... um, she got round.

Lion-O knew very little of her pregnancy, he realised. Tygra had mentioned something about her feet hurting and cravings...? Had Pumilee's feet been hurting lately? Any surprisingly strong cravings? He couldn't recall any such incidents, in fact she'd been struggling to eat the last-

Oh.

Nausea.

And she'd been napping, which he'd found somewhat surprising a couple days ago when he found her lounging stretched out on the couch in their antechamber, but at the same time- she did a lot.

Pumilee also woke up long before he did. He hated mornings.

In fact, if he remembered correctly, he had watched her a few ticks before carefully repositioning her so that he could take a nap with her on the couch.

So, those were out of the ordinary.

Lion-O's train of thought came to halt as he realised Pumilee was speaking. "-'t sure how to tell you..." she trailed off uncertainly, squirming a little.

"It's- I- um. 'I'm pregnant' is a strong contender. It's, uh, straight to the... point."

Pumilee blushed a little more, looking sheepish, but smiled smally, at him while tucking a strand of her mane behind her ear. If Lion-O didn't know better, he'd have said she chortled a little.

He turned to face her fully and grasped her paws, which had been floundering between fiddling with his fur and fidgeting with each other.

"Just, um. Give me a minute." he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "My brain's trying to..." he gestured a little, uselessly.

She nodded, playing instead with his claws.

It took him more than a minute before he was able to wrap his mind around the concept, and even then he wasn't sure he would claim it had fully sunk in.

"When, uh, did you find out...?" he asked, needing more information.

Pumilee thought about it for only a moment. "A few days ago now... I'd been waking up feeling nauseous all day for the last week." Lion-O hadn't noticed over very much, but Pumilee had some herbal remedies to help repress it, and there were no doubts in his mind she'd found reasonable justifications for pushing through it, and not bringing it up. Probably something about Lion-O having enough to handle as it was and not wanting to bother him.

Pumilee... he thought, before stopping himself. She was still talking.

"Cheetara noticed, I suppose. You know her." Yes, yes Lion-O did. "She did some," Pumilee gestured vaguely, waggling her claws, "cleric magic."

Cleric magic.

Lion-O nodded, absorbing this new information.

"... apparently my really weird dreams lately," this she had mentioned, "and being exhausted are not just stress or being a workaholic."

"You aren't even that much of a workaholic."

Pumilee gave him an offended look.

"The Archon's nameday celebration."

"We were seventeen!" she protested. "And it was a celebration.It's not like there was much for us to do anyway..." the last sentence was muttered.

Lion-O laughed.

He still didn't know how or why Bengali knew about royal politics and its (bothersome) intricacies. Bengali wouldn't tell him.

"I love you." he said, grinning as the affectionate warmth in his chest blossomed.

Pumilee's gaze softened into a tender look. "I love you too."

He couldn't help but close the space between them to kiss her. She smiled into his kiss, lips plush and, he found, pliant when he deepened it.

She hummed a little before they parted.

Lion-O glanced down at her stomach. It was starting to sink in.

She was pregnant, carrying what would, in time, grow into a cub. Their cub.

He gently settled his paw over her stomach, startled not for the first time, at how easy it was to cover her belly. She was... so small, petite, if that was the correct way to describe it. Compared to him, at least. Carefully, he rubbed his thumb over her wet fur, able to somewhat feel her skin.

Pumilee tensed a little when he did so, sucking in her gut.

Lion-O glanced up, inspecting her expression. She seemed uncomfortable by the touch, but she wasn't scowling or snarling at him.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, moving his hand away.

Pumilee shifted. "No, it's just... it's weird. I'm not used to being pregnant."

Lion-O laughed. "No? Not in three days?"

"No." she pouted at him.

"Aww," he grinned at her silly-like. Since she had given permission, despite finding it odd, he tentatively replaced his paw on her belly and felt it a little.

How far along was she? Her stomach felt firm- not muscular, but it wasn't quite as soft or plush as before. She made a noise of discomfort when he pressed against it. "Sorry," he said, easing the pressure applied. Lion-O supposed he could ask if she knew. "How, um..." he struggled for words.

Smooth.

"Cheetara estimates around two months." Pumilee answers anyway, managing to understand him even when he isn't articulate.

"Two months? Really?"

Pumilee was quiet for a moment. "I brushed off a lot of symptoms. They didn't seem odd to me..."

Or to me, Lion-O thinks, before focusing his attention back onto her belly and the baby with a sense of awe. It must have shown on his face, because she gently trailed the backs of her claws down his cheek before cupping his jaw.

He flicked his eyes up in time to meet hers, before she leaned in to kiss him.

Their son, Claudius, was born seven and a half months later, favoring his father's appearance with strong influence from his mother.

His fur was cream colored with dark brown markings; his mane was a brilliant red with russet brown streaks on either side of his head, extending back along the crown of his head, as well through the center of his blaze- the very tips of his mane giving away to white frost.

From the very first day, he had his mother's golden eyes.

It was very difficult for Lion-O to say 'no' to those eyes, and Claudius figured this out alarmingly early.

It became a routine for them.

Claudius would wake Lion-O up every morning- and he did mean every morning; his son, unlike his mate, did not take vacations and could not be persuaded to stay in bed longer- and pout at him until he agreed to play with wherever he wanted and at whatever game he wanted.

Once Lion-O was awake, Pumilee would slip away to work.

When he was young, that was mostly reading books and playing with small toys with him or, rather, laying on the floor secretly napping lightly while Claudius crawled all over him. Occasionally it was wrestling, and as he got a little older, play-fighting with swords.

Lion-O was somehow always surprised when he, personally, came away from playtime feeling sore and a little bruised. Cubs lacked a lot of finesse and really did not hesitate to use their full one-hundred percent strength.

It didn't help that, around that time, Claudius was getting big.

Respect for Lion-O's sleep didn't exist until Claudius was around ten. By then, Lion-O was used to being awoken. He found that he missed it.

With Pumilee, he was practically an angel. Almost always so well behaved for her and easy to calm down. Lion-O would be lying if he said he weren't a little envious of that, but he also supposed she just had a way with cubs.

As well that it was often she who got awoken in middle of the night when he had a nightmare.

Many times, Lion-O had shambled into the room to find her snuggling their son. They looked... so cute and precious. He always had to stop, no matter how exhausted, to admire them.

She never let her mane get too much longer than her waist, and when she slept, she braided it. It was a loose, very flowing sort of braid. Very beautiful.

Their son liked to have bits of his own mane braided like that, too.

Claudius never bulked up in muscle or frame like his namesake.

So, back in 2014/2015, I ended up in a bad social group outside of the Thundercats commune, and I was introduced to a lot critical rhetoric that, well, ruined my enjoyment in my writing (although, there was a lot about Ruins I ended up not liking, I won't lie. I wish I'd made different lore decisions, but I was young and having fun).

I've talked a bit about this issue on tumblr, and if you are curious to know more, you can head over to and send me an ask :)