Movement No. 13
Yasmeena
“Good morning,” Lilian says, walking through the doorway of our tent.
My lupion fiancé is standing by the vanity in striped pajama pants and a tight white tank top, looking more tempting than Tempest as she yawns.
Tempest pulls her messy hair back behind her shoulders and gives us both a deadpan stare.
“I was just leaving, I guess. I’m going to go get ready and then we’ll do our community service? ”
“Sounds good,” I say as she exits the tent we now share.
“How are things going?” Lilian asks, and I pat the edge of my bed. She takes a seat beside me, and I wrap an arm around her and squish her firmly.
“I’m pretty sure she hates me.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well for starters, she mumbles I hate that cat bitch in her sleep,” I say, and Lilian laughs a little too hard.
“It’s not funny! She actually says that.”
Lilian’s chuckles continue. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That is objectively funny. Maybe she meant catty bitch and was referring to Reina or a pack member she hates or something.”
“No, she definitely means me. And it’s okay, I don’t really like her either. Except the weird moments when I do, but that honestly just makes it worse.”
“What? Why?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. She is quite difficult to get along with. She makes assumptions about me a lot, and she smells a little bit like a dog before she showers.”
“Okay, well I don’t think she can help the last one,” Lilian says and pokes my arm. “Is there anything you like about her?”
“She’s strong-willed and determined. And she’s pretty easy on the eyes,” I confess, and Lilian gasps like I’ve just said something scandalous. “What?!”
“You’re attracted to your fiancé!”
“Is that a crime?”
“No, it’s a good thing.”
I sigh. “Don’t get excited; nothing real is going to happen between us. Can we please talk about you? Anything exciting going on in that pretty pink head of yours?”
“I think we’re going to try and have a baby,” Lilian says, and my heart starts a thunderous rhythm in my chest.
Most of the carnies hate Baelor. I’ve been a part of Hel’s Carnival a lot less time than the others, so I think I don’t know the full depths of Baelor’s bad behavior, but from what I’ve seen he’s not the worst partner in the world.
He loves Lilian, and she never complains to me about their situation.
If he hurt her, Draven would’ve killed him by now.
I can’t tell if there’s something I just don’t know, or if they’re all just going off of the same bad energy I sense in him as well, either way, I try to be the one who supports her marriage.
Even if it makes my stomach a little queasy, I want to be the one yes in her field of nos.
Draven, Reina, and Gemma can all tell her that this isn’t a good idea, but I want to be the one to cheer her on.
“Really? Oh that’s amazing,” I say, and I mean it. Though I don’t particularly care for her husband, I trust in Lilian and I know she’ll be a lovely mother. “Have you told anyone?”
“No, not yet. I was going to wait until I’m actually pregnant.”
I give her hands a squeeze and smile. “I think that’s wise. I’m happy for you, Lilian. I can’t wait to be your future kid’s aunt.”
“You’re going to be the best aunt ever,” she says and stands up, crossing out of the tent.
Between a turf war, a rebellion brewing, a political engagement, and now a soon-to-be pregnant Lilian, I might just die from a heart attack.
Lilian helped me pick out an outfit while Gemma helped Tempest, and now we’re walking the streets of the economic district, looking for felion and lupion to question like two eager reporters.
I’m in denim shorts and a loose-fitting cerulean quarter-sleeve top. Tempest is in jeans and a tight, racerback black tank top. We’re like opposites as we walk parallel to one another.
“Act like you like each other,” Absinthe whispers.
We lean in to each other, still not holding hands, but close enough to imply something is going on.
Walking down the busy street, there are half-demons bustling about, but no lupion or felion in sight. We continue down another road, searching for similar ears and tails in every corner.
“With tensions as high as they are, it’s possible people just aren’t going out,” I suggest, but Tempest shakes her head.
“What about Claudia, doesn’t she own a business? We should check there,” Tempest says, and I nod.
“Good idea.”
We walk towards Claudia’s alteration company, where she works as a seamstress. The building is small and quaint, the exterior painted a bright pastel mint. Opening the front door, we step inside and find three felion lingering alongside Claudia.
“Yasmeena!” Roxanne squeals with excitement, her golden blonde hair swaying as she moves. Roxanne Petit is probably the nicest felion I know, and one of my dearest friends.
“Hi Roxie!” I say, and give her a big squeeze before I realize Claudia is staring at us.
“Good afternoon Yasmeena, is this your fiancé?” Right to the chase.
“Yes, this is Tempest,” I answer and grab Tempest’s hand before dropping to a whisper. “How did you know?”
She holds up a newspaper and places it on the table in front of us. In big bold letters on the second page it reads ENGAGEMENT ANNOUNCED BETWEEN FELION LEADER AND PACK PRINCESS.
Seriously? Couldn’t have said something normal like engagement between Yasmeena Al-Khalifa and Tempest Lupine.
“I didn’t know you were considered our leader,” Claudia says, anger sharpening her tone. Crow’s feet line the corners of her eyes, and I can imagine how she might feel, a much younger felion like myself being seen as a stronger candidate for leadership. Hel, I’d be mad too.
I let go of Tempest and put up my hands like I’d raise a white flag if I had one. “I didn’t either.”
“I’m not a fucking princess, so. I wouldn’t pay too much attention to the bullshit they write,” Tempest says, and the entire room goes quiet at the sound of her voice.
I can’t tell if they’re afraid of her, or just surprised she spoke at all. Maybe both.
“Is there anything you can think of that we could do to my fellow felion, perhaps something that could ease tension with the lupion, too?” I ask, desperate to get to the point of this. I’ve never been good with small talk.
“As you know, I’ve been organizing a little with the felion. I’ll ask at our next meet up, which you should attend. Especially if the news is going to claim you as our leader,” she says, and my cheeks heat.
“Of course.”
“Is there anything we could do to help you specifically?” Tempest asks.
Claudia stares up at the ceiling for a moment, her long coppery-hair a bright contrast against her pale, pearly skin. “We could use your business.”
I give a small smile. “I always bring my costumes—”
“I’m talking to the wolf. We could use more lupion business,” Claudia clarifies, interrupting me.
“I’ll talk with my pack and see what I can do.” Tempest nods.
We give everyone a small wave before exiting through the doorway back out onto the sidewalk. The air is fresh, smelling of fall leaves and cinnamon apples, and I take my time breathing it in.
“Do you really think Pack Escalus would come here for alterations?” I ask, unsure about their feelings on felion.
Tensions have been high between felion and lupion for quite some time.
Around a year or two. I don’t experience it firsthand very often, because I tend to stick to the carnival, but I’ve witnessed some awfulness on missions.
A lupion attacking a felion outside a bar, a felion harassing a lupion at the mall.
I would assume Pack Escalus wouldn’t want to do business with a felion, but at the same time, they did agree to this arrangement.
I’m just not sure if Cain did it out of the goodness of his heart, self preservation, or some vindictive third option I haven’t learned about yet. I don’t really care, so long as it’s not the latter.
“As long as my father is leader, I’m not sure, but as soon as I’m able to take over, I’ll do my best,” Tempest answers as we begin walking.
“Is Cain ill?”
She shakes her head. “No, he’s in good health.”
There’s a bench overlooking a small pond and I gesture for us to head there. We take a seat and I let out a breath. “So when would you take over?”
Her shoulders raise, her eyes darting around the busy street. “I don’t know. Maybe ten or twenty years.”
Not soon enough, essentially.
“So, what’s your plan? Let our people kill each other until you finally come into power?” I ask, and she sighs deeply.
“Does it look like that’s my plan? I’m here,” Tempest says as she turns her body to fully face me, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Campaigning with you. Is that not enough?”
I run my fingers across my temples, rubbing slow circles. “No, honestly, it’s not. How is this campaign going to work if you can’t get your people to do their part.”
“How am I supposed to get my pack on board when I’m stuck here with you?”
That’s actually a fair point. “Do they still consider you part of their pack?”
Tempest balks, if only for a split second. “Obviously I’m still a part of the pack. I’m the daughter of Cain Lupine, heir to Pack Escalus.”
I still don’t really understand the hierarchies.
Luc Morningstar is king because his mother Lucile Morningstar was queen and her father Lucifer Morningstar was king before her.
Wolf packs, from what I’ve seen so far, don’t always work like that.
Alphas can be inherited, but they can also be chosen.
Cain Lupine is the current leader of Pack Escalus, even though there are other members from the Escalus line still residing in the pack.
“Remind me again how you’re not a princess? ”
“I’m not a princess because my father is not a king. Is there any brainmatter in that pretty little head of yours or is your skull full of fucking lint?”
“So you think I’m pretty?”
“No, I think you’re pretty fucking obnoxious, but here we are. Engaged to be wed.” She turns away from me, looking out onto the pond, and I try to envision myself in her shoes. I almost feel bad for Tempest. It’s clear she’d rather be anywhere but here.
“Can we talk to members of your pack?” I ask, and her ears perk up.
“I don’t know, can we? They didn’t let me meet with my father without supervision.”
“I can be your supervision. We can deliver food to families in need. We can even go to The Cathedral or something,” I suggest.
She shrugs. “Yeah, maybe. And just talk to lupion?”
“Talk, play games. We can even step on the corner of someone’s dress and suggest they come here for a repair…” It might be an outlandish idea, one that could get us into a bar fight, or worse, but it’s worth a shot.
“Oh you’re trouble,” Tempest starts. “But that makes me hate you a little less.”
Well. At least that’s… something.