In the moat was lots of fish for the queen to feed her hungry king, and she would get up early each morning, putting on a simple frock and going out with her heavy fishing pole, constantly bringing up fish after fish for his feast.
The queen herself didn’t eat much, but the king ate enough for a dozen strong men, his muscles required so much maintenance.
She would sit in the cool morning air, her bottom perched on a sofa pillow, her bare feet digging into the rough white sand, her manicured toes getting filthy. She had a large tub next to here where she places the fish, ready to be gutted and filleted. There’s a tiny breeze off the water, causing the plants to rustle and sway, whistling softly.
The King wakes not long after she, though his sleep is more rested and peaceful than usual. His body is large enough to fill the tiny doorways and he needs to turn to the side to get through them. His feet are heavy and sturdy on the floor as he walks out to meet his wife, crouching down behind her and nuzzling her neck with his tusks.
They don’t need to speak, and instead sit in serene silence, for serenity is so lost on them in their day to day operations. The leading of the kingdom leaves both of their voices hoarse and raw. The cottage is their chance to rejuvenate.
King Jumwa wears a simple kilt, the rest of his body bare and exposed to the early morning air, his dark skin seeming darker in the dawn light. He rubs her neck softly.
Inside the cottage there’s a yelp, then silence. The King and the Queen both let out a tiny sigh, though they’re both smiling.
The Queen says ‘I guess it’s time to feed him.”
The King nods against her shoulder, looking over at the tub full of fish, “Jes. Seems ju have enough to feed a kingdom.”
The Queen laughed softly and nodded, “or just two very hungry trolls.”