Mated and Alone (True Match)

Chapter 44

Tsok

The triumphant emergence of Char Tsok and Charina Misty from Fellbud Manor at the conclusion of his rut was being circulated as the sort of image that would go down in history, be recreated in artworks, and served as the poster for the changes already sweeping across Kree.

“I think it’s… nice,” Misty said cautiously.

Tsok cut her a look that made her snicker as she tried to resist laughing.

They were gazing at a highly stylized poster of that moment, one that was going to be used in the advertisements for True Match exclusively on Kree. Since True Match meant something different to their species than others, it was getting its own ad campaign. They’d both given Vigo and Jeanie permission to use their likeness, but they hadn’t been prepared for the artistic recreation of what had been, honestly, an extremely exhausting moment of their mating ceremony.

After the completion of the rut, Tsok and Misty were expected to go out for another celebration. Like the second one, it was meant to be a close and intimate sort of gathering. It was also proof that Misty was uninjured, and they’d come through the rut without issue.

Tsok was pretty sure that it was going to be part of the new ceremony that would change. He knew he was going to be exhausted after the rut, but he’d greatly underestimated just how much. The combination of days on end of mating and the rapidity of his growth spurt had drained his energy completely. Misty was no better than him. She hadn’t even been able to stand, much less walk properly – not for a couple days afterward.

Having to go down to a party right afterwards was definitely a bad decision. Just because they were both okay physically didn’t mean they were in any fit state to join a party.

That was also why Tsok carried Misty out of the manor that day. She’d tried to go down the steps in the foyer, but her legs gave out before she even made it halfway down. They’d already alerted the others that they were emerging though, so they couldn’t just say, whoops, never mind. They had to come out or risk it getting out that Misty had been hurt by his rut. So, what choice did he have but to come out carrying her in his arms to join the others?

The moment they left the manor, resplendent in robes they’d picked out before the wedding, they had been caught by photographers.

The original image had Tsok looking stoically forward. His robes were brand new, since they knew he’d be growing after the rut. They’d needed to guess on the size, as they only had an approximate percentage of how much he’d grow, but they got pretty close. He’d chosen to wear green, in homage to the color of his mate’s eyes. Misty had transitioned to wearing a completely kreecharma style robe as well, though hers was black – matching his fur. Misty was relaxed in his arms, one hand on his chest, her head on his shoulder, smiling ever so slightly, her eyes closed like she might be having a sweet dream. It wasn’t obvious in the photo how hard she had been trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of being fucked so hard she couldn’t walk right.

The wind hit at just the right moment, pushing her hair from her face, sweeping the skirt of his robe dramatically. The picture had been rimmed by fellbud trees, their purple blooms acting like a frame to the image of him emerging from within the fine manor.

Just from an artistic standpoint, it was a beautiful photo. He had a large copy made to put up in his office. A precious memory, perfectly preserved.

It was that same photo that True Match had created a stylistic version of that he and Misty were looking at now. It had changed a bit though. The style was simpler, their faces completely gone, their persons replaced so that a brown furred male was carrying a silver furred female. But they were wearing the same color robes, it had the same fellbud trees, and it was very obvious what the picture was imitating.

And yes, the point of their wedding was to give the rest of Kree something to emulate, a way to get their own mates, and currently, True Match was the only way to do that.

But this image…

“Why are you not in it?” He grumbled, displeased as he glared at the silver female cartoon. She was offensive in his arms. It didn’t matter that the male was brown, it was still him. And he didn’t like that he was carrying this stranger.

Misty could only snicker at his displeasure. “Oh, leave it. It’s cute.”

“It’s not you.”

“It’s not meant to be me. This is for Kree. Most kreecharma are going to mate other kreecharma – so of course they’re going to use two kreecharma.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You’re being picky.”

Tsok made a face, glaring at the image. It was projected off his combot in front of them. They were both standing, leaning back against his desk. This design wasn’t really sent for their approval though, it was just Jeanie sharing because it had been based on their photo.

Good thing too, because he didn’t approve. He couldn’t say that Misty was wrong. This marketing was meant for his people, for the new changes taking place across the planet. It should be two kreecharma rather than a mixed species couple.

But still…

“I’m surprised,” Misty said, drawing his attention from the ugly poster.

“About?”

“How quickly it all happened. I mean, it hasn’t even been that long…”

Her hand moved over her belly. Tsok couldn’t help but lower his eyes. Watching enviously as she gently stroked the bump of their growing kit. He could – and did – touch her belly frequently, but he didn’t have his hands on her now. And that seemed a waste.

Misty’s belly was still rather small. The distinct rounding was rather on par with a mated kreecharma female’s belly after she gave birth. The kind of permanent rounding that Fia had. Misty had plenty more time to grow as their kit developed.

He rather liked the change. He fell asleep with his hand on her belly and often woke to find that he’d moved at some point in the night to rest his head right next to or on top of it as well. She found his fascination cute, which was fortunate, because he couldn’t stop.

It was an instinct to get as close to her as possible, and one that he wasn’t trying to fight.

In fact, he didn’t fight his instincts at all anymore. If he needed to do something for her, he did it, regardless of when or where or what else he was doing. Usually, it was just needing to put eyes on her, to assure himself that she was still safe and happy. Other times, he had to bring her food, touch her, kiss her, fuck her. He rarely resisted the urge, and Misty was never unhappy to see him.

His rational choices had always been wrong ones, but his instincts never led him astray.

She was right. Things changed very quickly after the wedding.

In the days following their emergence, the first weddings from the people began to pop up. They started with those who had been matched but hadn’t mated yet. Those who had been waiting, watching the two of them. They wanted to see how their ceremony went before they copied it. As those ceremonies were taking place, True Match saw an influx of new clients. More than that, they saw a rise in people comming them to ask for the contact information of their match. People that had been matched before but chose not to do anything asked to meet up.

The photo of Tsok carrying Misty was circulating everywhere. It was the kind of picture that would be in history lessons one day. The kind of defining moment that changed a generation. It heralded the beginning of a wave of weddings that were being planned and executed even now.

Boktare and Fia then surprised him by having their own wedding. They were already mated of course, so it wasn’t exactly the same. However, they joined together with vows that Tsok had been asked to witness. A task he’d completed with pride and honor.

Their own ceremony had sparked an interest in those already mated to do the same. That was when the wedding boom really started.

Nowadays, it was all anyone talked about. Mated couples were planning weddings. Those who had been matched were getting closer with the intention of being married. Businesses were starting to cater to those kinds of ceremonies and events.

It happened so fast, it was almost dizzying.

Misty was surprised, but Tsok wasn’t.

It felt like some kind of pressure relief valve he hadn’t even known about had finally, after too long being locked tight, been released.

The kreecharma were famous for denying their mating impulses. But they didn’t do it because they were unloving and uncaring. Far from it. Their only concern was protecting their females. And now they had a way to do it safely, in a controlled manner. So, they were grasping that opportunity with both hands.

If there had been any part of Tsok that had been concerned about this being the right choice, it was completely banished by the reaction of his people. They welcomed this change. They wanted it. They hadn’t known how to ask for it before, not seeing a way out of their mateless existence before True Match. And even after True Match came, there had been hesitancy. An unknown question of how to apply it to their life.

The ceremony was grand and a bit much, true, but it was just the kind of activity that acted like permission to do something they’d all been taught was wrong for so long. It was mostly performative, but that performance was a necessary step, like a ticket needed to purchase to get into matehood.

Tsok’s journal helped too. Documenting his own experiences with his mate, right up to the point that they were mated and the days following, describing something few others experienced, helped to banish the mystery and fear of the unknown. It was rather intimate, and he couldn’t say he was fully comfortable giving everyone that much insight into his life and his heart, but he didn’t regret writing or publishing the book.

Now, the entire world could read about, learn about, and understand mating from the perspective of another. Someone that wasn’t centuries removed from them and long dead. Someone that came from the same place and school of thought as themselves and understood their concerns.

There were still traditionalists, of course. Those that were hesitant to change. Those that believed it was too early to say for certain that this could work. Even those that said that Tsok and Misty’s mating didn’t count because she was human.

Those naysayers could only be disproven with time. As the wedding process became part of their culture, as it was woven seamlessly into the expected trajectory of their lives, that caution and unease would be starved of sustenance and die.

In a generation or two, it would never even occur to his people to question the idea of a wedding. The idea of mating would lose its negative connotation. One day, going to True Match once you hit adulthood would be seen as a normal rite of passage.

Maybe by the time his own kit was an adult.

Yet again, he found his eyes moving to her belly. Misty had stopped caressing it, but he couldn’t imagine why. That’s all he wanted to do anymore.

She caught his eye and smiled. “Want to go snuggle?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, making her laugh.

He had changed in more than one way since mating. It wasn’t just the obvious physical changes – though those had taken some time to get used to. Even just learning the new length of his limbs had been an adjustment. All his old clothing was too small and had to be replaced. He had to learn the limits and ease of his new strength.

One unexpected benefit of his change was that The General no longer attacked him on sight.

They returned to their room in Fellbud Manor where the vicious beast came trotting over with a happy, rumbling purr. He wound his way first through Misty’s legs, then his.

The first time The General was re-introduced to Tsok after their mating, the cat stared at him like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. Then he sniffed him cautiously for a while. Then went back to staring at him for a while.

The next morning, after he woke, it wasn’t just Misty he was snuggled up with. The General had curled up right over his head, sleeping peacefully. Tsok wasn’t sure exactly what changed, but Misty thought that maybe The General recognized that Tsok was his clear superior now. The General fell under him in their little family hierarchy, and all the fight drained from him as a result.

Whatever the reason, The General was suddenly quite content to love him nearly as much as he loved Misty.

Though, there was still a clear difference in the way he treated them, and it seemed to center prominently around her belly. The General clearly knew she was pregnant, and he liked fighting Tsok for space laying against the growing kit.

More than once, Tsok woke to her petting both of their heads simultaneously because they were flanking her belly on either side. Tsok would push her shirt up in his sleep so he had his head right on her skin, while The General was purring hard enough to vibrate.

Strangely enough, seeing the feline’s dedication to being close to his kit actually made Tsok soften a bit towards the beast. If he thought for a moment his kit would be in danger from the fluffy monster, he’d have insisted that they be kept fully separate. However, with The General’s newfound tolerance for him and his devotion to Misty, apparently their kit already had his affection.

Misty really seemed to appreciate that their animosity had faded as well. That the three of them could all curl up together, warm and comfortable, every night, gathering around the fourth member of their cuddle pile resting safely in his mate’s womb.

His mate.

He loved saying it. He loved feeling the truth of it. He felt he could understand, for the first time, why his people had once adored this so much, even with the inherent risks it posed to their females. The warmth, the contentment, the sense of completeness that came just from being in her presence would have made anything worth having her.

It also gave him a new appreciation for everything his ancestors had sacrificed when they turned against mating. They would have known this feeling better than anyone in his generation, they would have had the weight of culture going back millennia to give it power.

But it was because they adored this feeling so much that they had given it all up. Do it for Her, his ancestors had cried. Needing to protect their females. Needing to see them safe precisely because of this feeling.

They gave it up to protect their females, and he would have done the same. He knew, holding onto her in their bed, curled around her, their kit, and their cat, that he would have done anything if it guaranteed her safety.

This was love.

This was what humans and all other species clung to so fiercely. The fact that his kind refused this earned so many looks, and he understood now why it would. They were right to look at them askance, because this was what made life worth living.

And he would not rest until the rest of his species knew this feeling. Until every kreecharma could enjoy this without fear or guilt or shame. He would work for the rest of his life, doing whatever he must, to ensure that the world his kit grew up in was one wherein this joy, this perfection, was guaranteed to them if they wanted it.

He would create a world of love for this, his family. A world his mate could be proud of. One his kit would know as the only way to live.

By his honor as the Char of Kree, he would remake this world for his mate and kit.