Epilog

The Great Green Bridge took root a few months after the wedding, and the majority of the work came from the villagers themselves, with assistance from the Botanical Laboratories in the capital. Teams of farmers and scientists selected plants and cultivated the strongest stock while bio-engineers built a bamboo framework, packing nutrients and enzymes in each hollow bamboo segment to feed and nourish the plants so that the framework would gradually be absorbed into the network of vines.

By the time the rainy season came, both ends of the bridge—the Jabari side and the Wakandan side—were well established. Long jute cables from higher up on the cliffs helped support it, and Hashiki herself headed up the team that planted the four Princess tree saplings at the bottom of the chasm. Two stood on the Jabari side of the Chilling Mists and two on the Wakandan side.

"Their usual growth rate everywhere else is a meter or more a year, but with Vibranium in the soil, it's twice that. Sometimes triple," Hashiki told her husband. "We've also braced them so they'll root well."

"Given all the fuss you're putting into them, they should," M'Baku grumbled but it was an act, she knew. Her husband was extremely proud of the bridge and the way she'd organized everyone from both sides to create it.

He did insist they spend weekends away from the project though, and the two of them would use the time exploring the far reaches of Jabari territory together, savoring the beautiful solitude of the country. Hashiki looked forward to those trips as she and M'Baku learned much more about each other as well.

"I do not like bees," he told her one evening as they enjoyed a small campfire deep in a small green valley. The hike had been a climb, but worth it since the view of the night sky glowed with stars.

"I already knew that," Hashiki reminded him with a roll of her eyes. "What about other animals? Dogs? Cats? Birds?"

"Dogs have their place, and I have known a cat or two," M'Baku admitted. "Although I did not have time to care for a pet when I was younger. The well master, T'wara always had kittens about, though," he smiled at the memory, "I did like the ones without tails. What about you?"

"Oh we had a one-eyed bat that lived in the thatch of my grandmother's garden shed. Fuka-fuka was his name. Not really a pet, though. He would come out and take care of any mosquitoes around dusk. Other pets . . . ." Hashiki shook her head. "No, my parents were busy enough with the cattle, so I only knew how to look after big things."

"Is that a comment about me?" M'Baku wanted to know, giving her a mock-stern look. "I think that is a veiled insult and as your husband I am affronted."

Hashiki giggled, and snuggled closer to him, enjoying the weight of his arm around her shoulders. "I would never insult you! All I am saying is that for most of my life I've been used to . . . big creatures. I have no experience with . . . little ones."

"Pfft, they are exactly the same as big creatures, but smaller," M'Baku snorted.

This struck Hashiki as hilarious and she laughed, pressing her face against the side of his chest until he grew alarmed and gently pulled her back to look in her eyes.

"It was funny but not that funny," M'Baku grumbled.

Hashiki simply grinned up at him, reaching to pull his face down for a good, solid kiss. When they broke apart, he was the one grinning.

"Maybe it was that funny," he conceded.

"Only in context," Hashiki told him. "Husband, you are a smart man, are you not?"

"I am," M'Baku agreed, but he looked wary. Hashiki nodded thinking how adorable he was.

"Yes you are. Think back over what I have said and see if you can figure out what is so funny about it. While you do that, I'm going to get the sliced mangos for us to roast." She rose and patted his shoulder, still smiling, leaving him to ponder the conversation.

Hashiki fished around in the travel sack, finding the packet made of banana leaves and twine, humming as she undid it. When she turned a moment later, M'Baku was there, looming large, his eyes wide.

"You only know how to take care of big things!" he repeated, holding her gaze.

"Yes."

"And you don't know how to take care of little things!" M'Baku continued. "So I ask myself why does my wife worry about taking care of little things? Then of course I tell her that big creatures are the same as small creatures and I am thinking of kittens and birds and meerkats instead of . . . BABIES."

Hashiki smiled so hard it hurt.

M'Baku made his mouth into an O and began to quiver, his eyes bright. Hashiki thought he was like a volcano of excitement, ready to explode, so she spoke up quickly. "I suspected it a while ago and when Mai Hikima and I visited the Hyena, he said something to me that all but confirmed it."

"What. Did. He. Say?" M'Baku asked, still looking tense and delighted at the same time.

Hashiki imitated the shaman as best she could, making her voice the strange blend of growl and squeal. "In a season's time, the blossom indeed bears her fruit." She patted her stomach to re-emphasize the point, and was unprepared when M'Baku scooped her off her feet, hugging her tightly.

"Ina son Ku!" he roared happily. "Ina son ku da jaririn!"

"Put me down!" Hashiki laughed. "I'm not a gourd to be shaken you know!"

Stricken, M'Baku set her back on her feet and gently touched her belly, his big hand spreading nearly from hip to hip. "Oh my blossom this is true? This is our farin ciki?"

"Yes," Hashiki assured him, laying her hand over his. It looked small; like a starfish splayed on a rock, but she felt the heat of M'Baku's skin rising against her palm.

He dropped to his knees, arms sliding around her hips, pressing the side of his face to her belly. "You, in there," he rumbled. "Your father speaks to you. Ina son ku."

"All you are going to hear right now is my dinner rumbling through me," Hashiki warned but she stroked his hair, feeling such a surge of love that she felt rooted to the ground.

"All the better. A mother must eat," he replied. "And as for you-" M'Baku lightly tapped a finger on her belly. "—We have much to discuss."

Hashiki snickered and it stretched into a yawn. "Perhaps later. Come to bed, husband. There is time enough for discussions tomorrow."

He rose up, his arms sliding along her frame, pulling her close against him and Hashiki melded against his big frame, feeling protected and dearly loved.

"Tomorrow," M'Baku sighed, his voice deep. "That is what you have brought me, my blossom. All the tomorrows. All our tomorrows. There is no man luckier than I am right now."

Hashiki felt her eyes tear up. "Mai Hikima was right; we are like the vines, husband. Entwined, supporting each other. Come, curl around me and we will start our tomorrows right now."

M'Baku chuckled, and followed her into the tent to do just that.

End

(if you are interested in a one-shot story about the pregnancy, please let me know in the comments, and thank you for reading!)