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Chapter Text

Lauden Praud, the Warrior of Light, stumbled into the Rising Stones looking like six miles of bad road had been mugged and left to die in a ditch filled with fermented effluent. Blood and grease caked her Machinist's leathers. Her goggles hung limply around her neck, both lenses cracked, the outline of the eyewear the only evidence of cleanliness on her face or anywhere else. Her right eye was bloodshot, her right ear blistered, her hair singed. The leather covering her right arm and shoulder was burned, cracked, and still smoking. She smelled like black powder and burnt hair; Ceruleum and violent death.

"You should see the other.... whatever it was," her deep voice ragged, hoarse, proffering an explanation to the audience of stunned onlookers. She waved off offers of assistance as she limped into the room.

"Evening, Tataru. What's with the look?" She stopped in front of the receptionist's desk, swaying like a tree that had just taken its final stroke of the axe. She planted her hands on the wood to steady herself. A drop of blood fell from her face, splattering across a piece of paperwork.

The Scion's receptionist looked worried sick - not at her, the Warrior of Light looked like she'd been dead for a week but Tataru was clearly relieved to see her, despite her... everything. No, this was something else. "Tataru?" Lauden raised her eyebrows, prompting the woman to speak.

"Y'shtola needs you." Whispered, just barely loud enough for Lauden to hear - "It's personal."

Lauden coaxed a hunk of gore out of her right ear with her pinkie finger and tossed it unceremoniously at the trash can next to the desk. She missed.

"Oh. Yeah." Left ear this time - she set her linkpearl down on the desk in front of Tataru.

"Hold my calls. Hold my... hold everything. If I'm not back in a week call Aymeric." She pinched her nose and sighed. A deep breath, then another.

"Thanks, Tataru. Sorry about the blood. And the... whatever that was." She waved vaguely at the hunk of gore on the floor as she lurched down the hallway, hand gripping the wall for support.

Tataru watched her hobble, worry creasing her brow as she tucked the Warrior of Light's linkpearl into its storage case.

The gap under Y'shtola's door was dark. Lauden kept plodding, wanting more than anything in the star to just fall over and go to sleep. She reached her own door, noted the sliver of flickering lamplight under it, cocked an ear. Gentle, quiet, indistinct.... something. Her ears were ringing too loudly to make it out.

It was her room, but... she knocked gently on the door anyway.

"It's Lauden," her voice was spent. She'd screamed a lot today, some of it in agony, most of it in rage. She barely recognized herself. A ragged whisper - "May I enter?"

Through the door, just as raggedly - "Yes."

Lauden lifted the latch, leaned into the door, and tried not to fall into her room.

The first thing she noticed was the smell - musky, slightly sweaty... like Y'shtola during sex but... louder, somehow.

Y'shtola Rhul sat on her bed, back to the wall, knees drawn up, one of her pillows between her chest and thighs. Her face was buried in the fabric, her hands linked across her calves. Her tail twitched restlessly. Clad only in Lauden's white survival shirt, locks of messy hair stuck to the light film of sweat on her brow. She was rocking gently. Back and forth, back and forth, her eyes unfocused.

"Lauden it's time." Her voice was choked, her eyes tearing. "I thought we had a few more days, but it - but we... Take me to Ishgard. Now. Please, Lauden." Her voice was strained, uneven.

Lauden looked around her room. There were a pair of full bags with shoulder straps at the foot of the bed, a dark cloak folded atop one, a light cloak atop the other, a pair of thick boots in Y'shtola's size next to it.

"I felt myself start... slipping... this morning. I packed some toiletries and some clothes for both of us, and spent the rest of the day..." she trailed off. The sheets were soaked.

"Toys? Lube? Pills?" The Warrior of Light drew on her rapidly draining reserves of energy, willing herself awake, alert - if only just.

"In your bag." She was rocking faster, eyes fixed hungrily on the slight hint of a bulge in her pants.

The big question - "Can you make it to the Aetheryte in Ishgard?"

"If we leave shortly. Not... not if we leave tomorrow."

"Right. Get dressed. I've gotta piss, then we're outta here."

The piss was painless. The sink, less so.

Lauden splashed her face, rubbed her eyes, washed off her goggles - cracked but still serviceable. She gripped the sides of the sink with both hands and stared at her reflection in the mirror, searching her reflection. For what?

Energy? Courage?

Both?

Now would be a very bad time to tell Y'shtola that she was feeling inside-out, that the pills had stopped helping, that the developing muscle tone was making her feel worse, more alienated from herself. That she felt herself detaching, dissociating, daydreaming whenever Y'shtola engaged her down below - glimmerings at first, but more and more and she would do this, would be there for her, and she would deal with it after.

Beneath the filth she looked hollow, lost. It had been an extremely bad sun and she really needed a rest. These feelings - this incompleteness, this need... paled in the face of Y'shtola's difficulty. It had to wait. This need... maybe she felt something similar. Maybe that feeling was what was swallowing her whole. She hoped she could fulfill it; she hoped she could find some way to fulfill it within herself as well.

Lauden hawked and spat blood into the basin, washed it down as she rinsed her hands again, and left the bathroom light on.

A crack of displaced air echoed through the hallway into the great room. Tataru pulled a clipboard containing a list of Scions and their availability out of a drawer and carefully penciled in the word "unavailable" next to Y'shtola Rhul and The Warrior of Light.

Lauden shivered as the chill winds of Ishgard stripped the warmth from every bit of exposed flesh. She heard Y'shtola whimper, felt her shivering hand pulling at hers. She looked toward her and saw a small group of Miqo'te milling about the Aetheryte plaza, their heads and shoulders rimmed in the liquid fire of the setting sun. The men had perked up and were staring keenly in Y'shtola's direction. Lauden noticed that they were downwind and favored them with a cold nod, hoping they might be around later if needed. They kept their distance - her weariness, filthiness, and focus kept everyone at bay as she headed east, up the city steps. The hooded Miqo'te quietly shivered at her side, trotting to keep up with the lanky Elezen's long, determined stride. She gripped Lauden's left hand painfully in her right, nails digging into her skin. Lauden's heart ached for her.

She stormed past surprised guards and burst into the Congregation, door rattling on its hinges. "Hey Lucy. Where's Aymeric?"

"What is that smell?!" Lucia Junius covered her face with a gauntleted hand, the choked cough of her gag reflex echoing faintly off the walls. The armored Garlean was physically repulsed, making no effort to hide that fact as she glared contemptuously at Lauden.

"Sex and death, the new scent from the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Where. Is. Aymeric?"

"He's in his office. I think he's expecting you - your secretary called ahead." She waved at the air in front of her face as if to clear it.

"She has a name, Lucy," Lauden grumped over her shoulder, barging through Aymeric's door with the same grace she'd shown the entrance to the Congregation.

Lucia shook her head and sighed.

Aymeric de Borel sat behind his desk, idly flicking a key back and forth between his forefingers across a sheet of paper covered in Ishgardian script. It looked official. The warm light of his office glinted off of his armor, his pale blue eyes, his lightly parted lips. Lauden wanted to drink him in and more but now wasn't the time for it.

"Tataru contacted me earlier via linkpearl," the handsome Elezen took the initiative with a smooth deliberateness that made Lauden wish he'd take her instead. "She... wasn't very detailed, but I did get the sense that you have immediate need of a private well-stocked space for several days." He cast a sympathetic gaze at the cloaked woman standing beside the Warrior of Light, her face hidden beneath the hood. Concerned eyes locked with Lauden's, searching her face for.... whatever he was looking for, he found it. "This should suit your needs." He stood with a quiet clack and rattle of carefully maintained pauldrons and greaves, handing the key out to Lauden. She noticed a tightness around his nostrils, silently thanking the Twelve that he was too courteous to say anything about their combined smell.

She took the key, her fingers lingering briefly, looked it over - the bit fit a complex locking mechanism. The address was etched finely into the bow - a building in the southeast of Empyreum. "Thank you, Aymeric. I should be able to find it. Please tell me it has internal plumbing and hot water." Her countenance was piteous, almost desperate.

"You'll find the apartment to be luxuriously appointed. Hot water, central heating, an icebox. Laundry service." He nodded at Lauden's filthy jacket. "Robes, clean towels. Treat it however you need to, just..." his gaze fell on Lauden's charred right shoulder. "...don't burn it down."

Lauden added the key to a ring containing several others and hid it away in a belt pouch. "To that end... I'd like you to hold onto a few things for me until I ask you for them." Eyebrows raised, a slight tilt of the head directing his eyes to the butt of the weapon held in a quick-release bracket on her back.

"You... want to check your weapons? Here?"

"I'd leave them with Steph at the Skysteel Manufactory but he'd probably play with them. You're... more reserved in matters of magiteknology." Lauden felt it would be a terrible idea to have weapons of any sort around for the next few days and hoped -

"Certainly," he agreed, "I can't think of a safer place for them in all of Ishgard." He smiled - reassuring, with no small amount of pride.

"Thanks." Lauden unceremoniously pulled her gun off her back, pulled the magazine, checked the action, checked the safety, placed it on the desk. The clip joined it. Then another, and another. Ceruleum fuel cells and a small flechette drum for the underbarrel gauss accelerator. Magitek-studded leather gauntlets; command and control functions for Rook auto-turrets. "Lauden are those explosives?" Aymeric stepped back as she plonked a bandoleer of them down next to the gun. "Only if you pull the pins," she grinned, her voice hoarse and well past done for the day.

She nudged her 'lunchbox' into her hands with her thigh and placed it on his desk next to the munitions. A pair of nasty looking knives, another clip of ammunition, and she was dusting her hands, pulling a spare pair of lightweight gloves out of a belt pouch and tugging them on as she nodded gratefully to the Lord Commander. "That's everything. Thanks, Aymeric. If anyone comes looking for me..."

"...they will find no answers here." His mouth a firm line as he shook Lauden's hand, nodding courteously and sympathetically to the cloaked figure beside her.

The duo turned and left, Lauden closing the door behind them.

Aymeric eyed the pile of weaponry on his desk and began looking around his office for a good place to store it.

The Empyreum was bitter cold, the deep red of sunset fading to vibrant purple behind steepled roofs as the street lights lit up one by one. The sky was deep indigo overhead, stars sparkling in the firmament high above sparsely populated streets. A few couples embraced the night air, exchanging pleasantries with the occasional adventurer returning home. Steady, even lighting glowed through partially curtained windows here and there.

They found the place without difficulty. An unassuming stone duplex, thickly walled. Shuttered windows on one side, the address that matched the key on the other. A small well-manicured lawn beneath a sharply angled wooden roof studded with a pair of triple-windowed dormers.

The key slid into the precisely machined lock with a hollow clack. Lauden noticed a small glowing light as she stepped inside - a transparent switch at about elbow level, emerging from a thin plate attached to the wall. She flipped it, initiating a low hum from somewhere deeper in the building - several ceiling lamps slowly brightened as she closed and locked the door behind Y'shtola. The place was warm - the devices under the windows were familiar; she'd seen Stephanivien working on something similar at the Manufactory a ways back. Radiators for steam heating - no need to deal with a fire.

The bottom floor was a single large room - a drawing room with a writing desk and a pair of couches on either side of a low table, separated from the sparsely appointed kitchen by a long counter with several high-backed stools beneath it. There were drawers and doors for storage beneath the stairs to the second floor. A hallway between the living space and the stairs, leading back - light spilled through an open door, shining off of patterned tiles - a small bathroom, and beyond that the back door and what looked to be some sort of large square drawer. Probably something to do with the laundry service Aymeric had mentioned. The stone floor of the space was dotted with throw rugs and was generally clean, spartan, and dreadfully dull.

Just what they needed.

Y'shtola tripped on a rug as they took off their cloaks. She staggered, recovered, sighed as she cast about for a peg to hang her garment on.

She missed the entire rack by a yalm.

"Y'shtola... you... can't focus your Aethersight, can you?" Lauden took her cloak and hung it next to her own, guided Y'shtola's hand over to it so she'd be able to get some idea of where it was within the space.

"No," her voice was quiet, choked. "I can, a bit, but I can't see fine detail. I'm having trouble with things that don't have much of an imprint on them - I can see the cloak and infer that the peg exists, but I can't see the peg. Or the rugs. I can't read, Lauden." Frustrated, grief-stricken."I know it won't last, but..." Her lower lip quivered.

Lauden hugged her protectively, one arm around her shoulders, one hand cupping the back of her head. She rocked back and forth gently, slowly, stroking her hair as Y'shtola sobbed into her chest. The woman was frightfully warm - feverish, even. After a time the sobbing slowed, trailed off, stopped. "You smell terrible," Y'shtola murmured. She clung to Lauden, pulling at her shirt, realized what she was doing and stepped back, breaking the embrace.

"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself," Lauden tried for a calming smile, a calming aether. She stood in place, hands lowered to her sides, allowing Y'shtola her space.

"I'm..." Y'shtola balled her fists, eyes focused on nothing. She was starting to look flushed. "Doing my best to control myself right now. It's not going to last. We should get something to eat and get you cleaned up. You smell like death threw up on you."

"That's not far off. Okay... I'll figure out a food thing while you learn the layout. Then I'll shower or bathe or whatever they have here and, well... then you can stop holding back. You probably need a wash too." She tried her best to sound reassuring; thought it came out tired and hoarse and way off the mark.

The kitchen held eggs, cheese, some kind of cured meat. Bread. Some dairy products in the icebox. A skillet, a knife, a cutting board, a stove that burned some kind of flammable gas. Lauden smeared a pat of butter around the skillet and got to work.

Eggs first - scrambled thoroughly. Some knife work while they cooked - four slices of bread, two thicker for her, two thinner for Y'shtola. Flip and fold the eggs, meat sizzling alongside. Thread the bread onto a skewer and toast lightly over a second burner for a moment. Heat off, toasted bread on plates. Eggs, thick slices of cheese, meat, bread. The cheese quickly began to melt, gluing the sandwiches together. Lauden set the plates on the counter and cleaned up everything else, clanking and bonking domestically as she quickly scrubbed out the skillet and set it to dry alongside the tools. She filled two glasses of water from the tap and looked about for Y'shtola.

"Whatever you made, it smells delicious," Y'shtola carefully descended the stairs, her voice sounding almost normal. "There are two rooms upstairs - the bedroom and an attached bathroom. The bathroom has a tub that's big enough for both of us." Factual, suggestive - a request.

"That sounds really nice." An assent. "I made us a couple of basic egg sandwiches. That should be enough for tonight." Lauden met Y'shtola at the foot of the stairs and took her hand, escorting her to the counter, guiding her hands to inform her of the locations of her glass, her plate, her sandwich.

The two women sat at the counter and ate quietly.

"This is really good. Thank you." Y'shtola's tail thrashed restlessly as she devoured the sandwich, eating almost as quickly as Lauden.

"You're welcome. It's easy to make - if you like it there's enough of the ingredients to last us a few days. I found the address of a meal delivery service in a drawer - we could do that, too."

"Probably not a good idea, unless they leave the food without knocking."

Lauden connected the data points. "I'll ask."

They finished their sandwiches. She rinsed of the plates and turned to see Y'shtola's arms extended, fingers working the air, her eyes fixated on where Lauden's backside had just been. Holding herself back. Her scent was stronger, richer. Lauden intertwined her fingers with her own and squeezed, gently, then firmly.

It was her turn to be the strong one.

"You are safe with me, Y'shtola. You told me what to expect and I agreed to be here. You do not have to go through this alone. You do not have to restrain yourself."

"Just until you're clean," she whispered hoarsely.

Lauden tottered to the back of the house and gave the square drawer a look. It turned out to be a cube-shaped cabinet with an intricate locking mechanism - a large basket on the bottom, a lever on the side facing the outer wall. The paneling there had an inset that looked like it slid open too. The air in the little space was chilly. Instructions for how to use the laundry service were printed on a placard at the back, above the basket.

1. Fill basket before 6th Bell.
2. Push handle down to signal pickup.
3. Laundry will be picked up between 6th and 7th bell and will be returned cleaned and folded no later than 17th bell.
4. Metal objects placed in the basket will not be cleaned. This includes armor and cookware. Buckles, buttons, and straps are fine.

A paragraph of legalese followed, to the effect that the service was bound by law and bonded and whatever else to not steal anything, to clean everything to the best of their ability, and so on and so forth - Lauden had tuned out by this point and didn't pay it any further attention.

Well then.

"Y'shtola, did you pack a full change of clothes for me? Pants, shirt, smalls?"

"And socks and a sweater."

"Aww. Thank you." Lauden stripped down quickly, tossing her filthy jacket, shirt, pants, smalls, and most of the stench into the basket. She kept her utility belt and boots - putting them back on to keep her hands free.

"That's quite a look," Y'shtola smirked, watching her from the kitchen side of the hallway. She could see just clearly enough to get the idea - Lauden's aether was calm, collected, with a dim crease across her hips where the belt was. Her legs dimmed from mid-calf down to the soles of her feet.

"Ain't it just." Lauden pushed the handle and closed the cabinet.

She slung a bag over each shoulder and followed Y'shtola up the stairs.

A small landing, a door, the bedroom - spacious, trunks and a dresser for clothing, a padded bench beneath the window with blankets stacked atop it. Rugs covered nearly the entire wooden floor. A bed large enough for a Roegadyn couple with a door nearby, close to the steeply angled roof. Beyond that, the bathroom - the anticipated facilities, fully equipped. The lighting in both rooms was wall mounted - dim, warm, comforting.

Lauden scrubbed down her boots with a brush, washing their grit and grime and grease and whatever else down the bathtub drain. She gave the skin that had been exposed during the day an equally thorough scrubbing, getting everything she could see washed off, washed away, checked in the mirror as Y'shtola provided a restless audience. The smaller woman moved her boots and belt to the bedroom as she lit a lavender-scented candle and began drawing the bath. The tub was, indeed, big enough for two, the water deliriously hot. Lauden found herself wishing the Rising Stones bathrooms were so appointed when she felt hands pressing into her lower back, working their way up to her shoulders. She let Y'shtola guide her downward, to a sitting position on the thick marble rim of the tub.

She had disrobed and stood skyclad, pink nipples stiff and inviting, body ready, eager - flushed, practically glowing. Her scent filled the room, overpowering the olfactory remains of Lauden's terrible day. She knew it wasn't for Elezen but found it arousing nonetheless.

Y'shtola took Lauden's head in her hands and hugged her against her chest, fingers combing through her hair. She expertly worked around the singed area, the remaining charred bits that still clung to follicles drifting gently to the tile floor. A sharp hiss as her fingers brushed against the blisters on her ear, followed by the warm tingling sensation of conjury. "I won't be able to focus clearly enough to do this in the morning." Distant, quiet, preoccupied. Lauden let the fact that she hadn't asked for healing pass, just this once. Her ear had hurt terribly. She felt Y'shtola's thumb stroke the right side of her face just below her eye, felt another surge of magickal energy. Her vision cleared. She turned off the taps as the mage healed bruises on her neck, the scorched skin on her shoulder. Her touch was lingering, sensual, and very, very welcome.

Lauden added bathing salts and dried lavender, stirred the hot water with her forearm.

She met Y'shtola's silvered gaze, flicked water at her playfully. "The bath is ready. Would you like to join me?"

"Yes, I would." Y'shtola smiled hungrily.

They washed each other's hair. Lauden did her best to be gentle, thought her fatigue was making her hands feel heavier than they would be otherwise. Y'shtola was firm, bathing clearly the furthest thing from her mind, her fingers lingering on her Warrior's scalp. She was restless, agitated, unhappy. Lauden guided her between her thighs,her back to her chest, and began massaging her shoulders.

Slowly, the stressed Miqo'te began to relax. She leaned back into Lauden's chest and her Warrior embraced her, chin resting lightly between her ears.

"Lauden, I..." she sighed. Her voice was quiet, uneven. "I know you're tired. I can see it, I can feel it. And yet..." Her tail rubbed against Lauden's length. "I... doubt I shall be able to respect it for much longer."

"It's all right, Y'shtola." Was it?

"I need you, Lauden." On the verge of tears.

"That's what I'm here for." Was it?

Where was this uncertainty coming from?

Y'shtola's tail brushed her hen again. There, it was coming from there - her constant inside-out reminder that her quest for Fantasia was far from over.

She hugged Y'shtola tightly. "Let's soak for a little longer, then take a look at the bed. I'd prefer to save the pills for tomorrow and see what happens without them tonight, if that's all right." She felt deeply unsure of herself; wondered if Y'shtola could see it in her aether.

"It is." Y'shtola gripped Lauden's forearms with both hands, releasing some of the tension she held as she leaned back against Lauden's chest, head between her breasts. "Thank you, Lauden." Barely a whisper. "For being here. For me, like this."

"Anything for you, Y'shtola. Anything." She kissed the tips of her lover's ears, hoping it wouldn't come to that.

Lauden pulled down the blankets and fell backwards onto the bed, eyes closed. Naked, clean, exhausted. She really wanted to sleep, could feel her consciousness yearning for it just as clearly as she felt Y'shtola's hands on her knees, her thighs, her belly. She stifled a yawn as she guided her lover into a kiss. Long, passionate, lop-sided - tender and loving from her, urgent and biting from the warm, feverish woman whose scent filled her nose like a bouquet of carnal hothouse flowers.

She felt Y'shtola pull away, heard her rummaging about in one of the bags, was almost asleep when she felt her left hand pressed to her neck, the slickness of lubricant being rubbed onto her hen with her right. Firmly, urgently, Y'shtola rose her to the occasion. She felt teeth nipping at her ears, her neck, her lips, grabbed her by her hair and pressed their lips together, tenderness giving way to a mutual urgency - a need to get through this or to enjoy it, Lauden wasn't sure which. Both, probably. She was delirious with fatigue - Y'shtola's body and the warm fog of her exhaustion formed the full extent of her universe.

"Stay with me, Lauden" - distant, muddy, pain blossoming dumbly on her cheek as Y'shtola slapped her face, more acutely from her chest as she harshly tugged her nipples. "There you are." Her voice was husky, guttural. Lauden moaned as she felt her grind against her pelvis - she was riding her, actively engaged with her. How had that happened?

As the wrongness between her legs gnawed at her, Lauden found herself reaching for an old, old technique - she imagined their roles reversed, that Y'shtola was in her, breeding her. "Mmmm yes. Stay with me." Her tail encircled her right thigh, squeezing firmly as she took Lauden to her hilt, her slickness puddling between them. There was so much more of it than usual. Lauden didn't know how much lube had been packed and suspected it didn't matter - Y'shtola was soaked. She arched her back, raised her bottom off the bed, her passenger groaning in pleasure. Hands on her hips, she nudged her to a more comfortable angle.

They drifted into a rhythm, Y'shtola riding her like a boat on a rough sea. They held that pace for long moments, Lauden uncertain if she was awake or dreaming. She felt her lover tighten around her length, arching her back again as she began to pinch and tug her nipples with practiced hands, pace quickening as she felt herself building, climbing - Y'shtola moaning, crying wildly as her walls constricted around her length, pulsing, tightening -

Y'shtola cried out - a long, loud release of tension giving way to exhilaration and exhaustion as she held Lauden within her. Pulling, yanking her nipples, bringing her to a slow, shuddering completion, her modest spend releasing within her. Slowly she relaxed, allowing her softening length to slide out, fluids briefly forming a viscous web between them, a quickly drying trail across Lauden's left thigh as she snuggled up against her Warrior's flank, left hand caressing the crescent of her lower belly in slowing circles, coming to rest near her navel.

"Thank you," Y'shtola murmured gratefully.

Lauden mumbled something - possibly "you're welcome," a string of incoherent vowels trailing off as she passed into sleep.

Chapter Text

"It's all yours," Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn nodded at the triangular tri-colored object on her desk. Sunrise streamed through the glass of the Maelstrom Command office, thick beams of light outlining the towering black-clad woman and the box in front of her in liquid gold. Five stripes of equal thickness, the familiar blue, pink, white, pink, and blue again. The seal was intact, a dose of Fantasia nestled snugly within.

"On one condition." She grinned lasciviously at Lauden Praud, her wicked smile barely visible, her face shrouded in shadow. In a single smooth motion she vaulted the desk, swept the Warrior of Light out of her chair, and held her against the wall. Just as fluidly, just as quickly, she pinned Lauden's arms over her head with her left hand, her grip an effortless, painful vise.

"I want you to bear my children." Her voice a hot throaty whisper in her ear as the Admiral ripped open her top with her right hand, buttons clattering to the floor as she firmly squeezed a breast.

"All of them." She tongued and bit at Lauden's ear as she raked her bare abdomen, ripped open her leathers, slid into her smalls.

"Dozens." Wait, no, her fingers -

"Hundreds." She was pulling. Tugging. Yanking. Pulling her inside out. Into her hot, slick palm.

"LEGIONS!" She couldn't help herself. She surged into Merlwyb's hand, throbbing, desperate, tears streaming down her face as the aching need blossomed deep within her again, her phantom womb craving, demanding, that Merlwyb - that anyone - spend within her, fill her, breed her.

Complete her.

Lauden Praud snapped awake mid-orgasm, Y'shtola Rhul sweating and fevered atop her, her hands pinning her wrists to the headboard. The Miqo'te groaned, pleasured but unsatisfied, dropping her grip and collapsing onto Lauden's chest with a dissatisfied sigh.

Lauden drew her arms around her, amazed at how warm she was. "You... uh...."

"Tried whispering in your ear, yes. It almost worked." Y'shtola cupped her breasts, rubbed her nipples with her thumbs.

"Nothing almost about it. I haven't had a dream like that in.... ever, I think." She'd had validating dreams before, but nothing on that scale - nothing she wanted to make real that urgently. The mere thought made her toes curl.

"I mean you completed well before I did. I am still... in need, Lauden." The Warrior of Light felt a gasp escape her lips as Y'shtola dug her fingers into her breasts. Painfully. Her tail lashed at the air, her ears twitched restlessly, she was flushed - angry, distressed. In need of release. "How are you feeling?" Her voice was hungry, almost plaintive.

Lauden could feel Y'shtola's slickness on her mons, her thighs pressing against her own, eager for more. "Fine," she lied, "I'm not in pain." Physical pain, anyway. "I'm still-" she yawned, wide and long "-godsdamned tired, though." She stroked the back of Y'shtola's head, thumb gently brushing an ear. It was still dark out - she had no idea what time it was. Dream Merlwyb must have been Y'shtola - her skin was a liquid bronze in the low light of the bedroom, deliciously close to the corona of the Roegadyn pirate goddess. Mmm.

Lauden closed her eyes.

She felt Y'shtola roll off of her and leave the bed. A moment later she felt a pill pressed to her lips.

"Swallow." Not a request. She obliged.

"Drink." Not a request. Cool water, about half a cup, to wash the pill down.

"Sleep." Not a request. She felt a gentle pat on her cheek, heard the padding of Y'shtola's feet on the wooden floor of the bedroom, the tile of the bathroom, heard water running as she drifted off again.

Thunder rattled the great bay window of Maelstrom Command, a sound like distant ripping. It was dark, heavily overcast, dimly lit. Lauden felt tugging, cinching, securing at her wrists, then her ankles, realized groggily that she was tied to Merlwyb's desk, spread-eagle. It was bigger than she remembered - almost bed-like in size. Rectangular. A faint muskiness lingered in the air.

Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn loomed over her, a pale apparition etched in the blue-gray light of gloaming. She shrugged out of her great black coat, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy echoing thud as she sized up Lauden, clad only in pants and boots. Her flawless porcelain chest rose and fell slowly, calmly, her skin rippling with heat - Lauden could feel it washing over her in waves, pulling at her like the tide.

You're not real. Inarticulate, unsaid, an emotion more than anything else - fear and no small amount of longing.

"No." Merlwyb checked her bonds. Casually, professionally, the way she probably checked over a ship's rigging. "Do I have to be?"

Pleading, resignation.

"I didn't think so." Lauden yelped as she felt a finger slide into her bud, felt herself surge, heat blossoming in her chest, her belly, her length. She stiffened, back arching as she tugged at the ropes. "I need you to last. Do you think you can do that?" A second finger slid into her. She squirmed, bucked, calmed, began eagerly rolling her hips against the hand inside her. Merlwyb smirked. "I need you to last for me." Thunder rumbled as her fingers were replaced by something larger, heavier, deeper. whatever it was it felt so godsdamned good. She needed it, needed more of it.

Merlwyb sighed, a bemused grin barely visible in the near-dark. "Not like that, dearheart. Perform for me, satisfy me," she thumped her chest, pale breasts wobbling slightly, "and I'll breed you for as long as you can stand it. As many children as you want." And just like that she was stiffening, growing - alien, distorted, but willing, if that was what it took.

"That's what I thought." Her pants and boots melted away, ochre stripes blossoming on her cheeks as she tossed a bucket of viscous fluid over Lauden's nethers. The pail clanged to the deck and rolled away as the lithe Roegadyn leapt up on the desk, stroking Lauden's length with strong calloused fingers. Her eyes flashed - piercing, brilliant - penetrating deep into her aether. "Focus. Here." She tugged, fingers pressing firmly into the underside of her shaft. "With me. Try to focus on what feels good about it." A quavering of concern - she seemed to need more from her than what was physically available.

Lauden felt herself making the effort, focusing on the grip, the stroking, the cool night air. Turbulence as she felt folds sliding over her, walls around her, slickness all over her. Pressure on her face - a hand over her eyes. Why? "Does it help?" Yes. Firmer, her other hand stroking her neck, squeezing - just enough to feel good. The pirate queen rode her, and for a time she felt only the good of it.

The hands became smaller, the smell sharper, the desk softer. A tail lashed around her thigh and squeezed as breathing changed pitch - higher, lighter, more desperate, somehow. Moaning, panting, tightening, clamping down, nails digging into her temple, stars blossoming in the dark as Y'shtola choked her, every muscle in her body pulsing in the throes of an orgasm that echoed off the walls, washing over her in a slow wave. She felt Y'shtola collapse onto her chest, felt her over-stimulated sex holding onto her, saw her lovers ears flatten as her hand fell away. A pleading, keening whine filled the room - she knew what she longed to feel, what she was asking for.

Lauden thought of dream Merlwyb making good on her offers, her promises. She held that thought - that fantasy vision of herself, bred to her hearts content - until she completed, Y'shtola sighing in relief as she spent what little she had within her.

"Every time a little more," Y'shtola sounded relieved. "Yet every time you're more..." her breathing slowed "...distant. And now..." Lauden groaned as she slid the plug out. She missed it immediately, felt hollow without it. "... you seem to need almost as much as I do."

"The pills..." Lauden trailed off, indicated the rope with her chin. "Untie me so I can hug you?" She felt Y'shtola stiffen briefly in surprise, realized the small Miqo'te must have somehow forgotten, felt her get up, felt the bonds holding her left arm loosen and release. She untied her right arm while Y'shtola freed her legs and returned to bed, curling up close to her - the little spoon. Lauden pulled up the covers and embraced her, feeling more like some kind of lost guardian or unfit caretaker than her lover.

"I think... what you're interpreting as a penetrative readiness is a side effect of..." Lauden really didn't have the necessary language for this. "... my receptive readiness. I think that's always been there, the pills kind of... turn it into something I can't seem to ignore." Y'shtola ground her rump against Lauden's belly. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to...uh...." she trailed off, hoping a hug would say what she couldn't.

Dawn. Light streamed through the windows around the blinds, a warm, rosy glow. Y'shtola sat on the floor against the western wall, a towel folded under her bottom. Feet in front of her, hands folded in her lap, eyes downcast. In shadow except for her ears, the line of Lauden's hip drifting ever so slowly down her crown to her forehead as the sun rose. She seemed calm, for the moment, though her tail still twitched and lashed restlessly. The towel was soaked, her folds slick, ready.

"You would prefer that I coupled with you as a woman, that I had no need of that which is.... not womanly for you." Her voice was tight.

Lauden took a moment to process. "I would, yes."

It was quiet for a time. She had almost drifted off again when Y'shtola spoke.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's not pain as you've experienced it," she shifted, resettled the blankets, "but yes. It does. More, lately." She regretted saying it, felt she had to, felt she was still too sleepy to properly articulate the sensation.

"I'm sorry, Lauden." Head down, tears dripping onto her forearms. "I will have need of your hands and mouth before long." She sighed. "I should know within the sun - within bells, possibly - if I will need you to find a mate for me. There's a... it's an intense commingling of aether that sates us when we're in heat - that's how oral stimulation can work, sometimes. I'm not sure if you'll be able to...." she trailed off, crying softly.

Lauden did the math, figured out what Y'shtola was asking for, what her concerns were. "I'll try. We might have better luck if we're using parts of my body that I get along with." She smiled and held the blanket up, inviting Y'shtola to a little more sleep.

The exhausted young woman stood slowly, stiffly. As she neared the bed Lauden reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her down into an enthusiastic hug. She showered her cheeks with kisses and tousled her hair, drew the blankets back over them both and snuggled close.

"We'll get through this. I promise." She held Y'shtola, kissing her gently between the ears.

The pair drifted off again as the sun rose behind them.

Daylight. Bells in the distance - at least nine of them. Ten, if the first had woken her up. Lauden sat up and looked around. Light poured brightly into the room, the sun sliding off the right side of the bed towards the window as it rose higher in the cloudy sky. Some kind of rope was still tied to the bed posts, a bit of a mess of odds and ends around the bags. The bathroom door was closed. She stood and stretched, feeling a lot of the night and early morning, but much less of yesterday. Her rest, such as it was, had been good for her.

She crouched in front of the bags, bad knee cracking like a shot, and pawed through their contents, coming away with the outfit Y'shtola had packed for her. "Y'shtola?" Hopefully loud enough to penetrate the door as she slipped on fresh smallclothes. "Busy!" The terse reply as she stepped into pants - one of the pair she'd made adjustments to, easy to slide on and off. "I'll start breakfast!" Equally loud as she pulled the sweater over her head. As she sat to roll on her socks she heard a faint rapid slapping sound, combined with quick breathing, almost panting. Y'shtola needed her and was making due.

Her knee complained a bit as she made her way down the stairs. The apartment was beautiful in the daylight, the rich colors of the rugs vibrant in the glittering sunbeams that caressed the drawing room. The kitchen was as she'd left it. She felt the caregiver part of her - the wife part of her - come to the fore as she methodically, automatically, set about gathering the tools and ingredients for a high-carb, high-protein brunch. The kind of meal that might enhance Y'shtola's curves a bit if she wasn't burning energy at such a worrying pace.

Big glasses of water, small glasses of imported La Noscean orange juice, freshly squeezed. Fried popotos, scrambled eggs, triangular slices of hotcakes (Lauden had used the entire skillet to make a couple of big ones), with plenty of bacon just starting to crisp as Y'shtola descended the stairs. Sweat glued Lauden's now very lived-in survival shirt to her chest. She was ruddy, disheveled, and... calm, for the moment. Her stripes seemed redder than usual, almost vermilion. She tripped on a rug, recovered quickly, made it to the counter without any further incidents. She took a seat. Lauden guided her hands to her plate, utensils, her pair of glasses. "Fork and knife for everything. The small glass is juice. There's enough for another cup if you'd like." Y'shtola drained it in one gulp and held it out for a refill, greedily drinking down water as Lauden pressed another orange. She took her time with the second glass - small sips, savoring, drinking just a bit of it before she set the glass aside and tore into her plate like the Warrior of Light herself.

She was through her eggs and well into her hotcakes when she finally slowed down to something resembling her usual speed. "This is so good. I had no idea you were such a good cook, Lauden. Thank you."

Lauden blushed. "I... uh. Studied at the Bismarck for a bit. Before things got serious. For a time my goals in life were much more.... domestic." She poured syrup onto Y'shtola's hotcakes and her own, finally sitting down to eat. "But Eorzea doesn't need any more chefs."

"Yes we do!" Y'shtola brooked no argument. "If everyone had breakfast like this things would be much less tense, I promise you." Her diction was looser, more fluid than usual, as was her body language. A few more bites, a little more bacon. "Speaking of tense," talking with her mouth full, very unlike her! "My refractory period is growing shorter. As is my temper. Don't eat too much, I need you to swive me senseless for dessert."

She finally noticed Lauden's aether. Bemused, taken aback. Cautious. "Okay maybe not that soon but if this is brunch then that's gotta be lunch."

"What time was it when you gave me the first pill? Do you know?"

"It's been at least six bells."

"I'll take another after the eleventh bell, just to be safe."

"That works. I hope it works, I... uh. The fact it seems to be making you more....." She couldn't find the words - or she was too hungry to talk. She renewed her assault on her plate.

"Well, we'll see if that matters above the belt here in a bit," Lauden sipped her juice thoughtfully.

"You should get your below the belt seen to, while we're here." Thoughtful, coy, a hint of mischief. "Find yourself a husband at the Aetheryte plaza." Y'shtola grinned. "Someone to swive you silly, at least."

Lauden blushed, squirmed at the thought. "Y'shtola, your needs-" "-are immediate, yes," she interrupted, "but yours are no less important. Your aether aches, Lauden. Helping me isn't giving you what you need. I can't see this damned fork -" she wagged it Lauden's direction for emphasis, a drop of syrup splatting on the Warrior of Light's neck "- but I can see that, plain as day."

"How would I- uh... I don't know how I'd..." Lauden was suddenly awkward, nervous, very un-Warrior-like. She licked a finger and dabbed at the syrup.

"You're gonna smell like a Miqo'te in heat," Y'shtola grinned at the thought, "Just make eye contact with whatever looks good to you. Let instinct do the rest." She finished her plate. "I'm serious. Don't overthink it. Don't think about it at all."

Lauden finished her meal in silence while Y'shtola rehydrated. She tried not to think about it, but found that she could conceive of little else.

The Warrior of Light was washing the dishes when the bell tower began to toll - the chimes distant, muffled, unmistakable. She chuckled to herself as she heard rapid thumping up the stairs, a bang and a thud and an unspeakably vile curse as Y'shtola tripped over another rug, then slightly more cautious thumping down the stairs. A moment later she felt the smaller woman pressing into her backside, one hand fondly stroking her belly as the other presented her with a pill.

She kissed Y'shtola's palm, picking the pill up with her lips, washing it down with a sip from the proffered cup of water that followed. She continued to wash the dishes, scrubbing carbonized bits of cured meat off of the skillet as Y'shtola fondled her love handles. "You're so soft, Lauden." She felt the small woman's nose and forehead rolling over her spine - lazily, almost drunkenly. "How are you so soft?" She tugged up Lauden's sweater, squeezed, kneaded, lovingly tugged and massaged. Lauden felt herself flush, tried not to squirm, tried to stay focused on the washing up.

"Seriously. How?" Massaging became playful pinching, became massaging again. "Every other Elezen I've met is..."

"Bony?" Lauden smirked.

"Yes. And then there's you." Her hands felt really good. "My big," Tug. "Strong." Rub. "Soft Lauden." Slow circles, fingers gently pressing into the bit of belly that flowed over her belt. She couldn't help it - she squirmed, ground her bottom into Y'shtola's tummy as a low moan escaped her lips.

She dried off the skillet with a wash rag, set it aside, pulled the stopper in the sink, dried her hands. "Do you really want to know, or are you just warming me up?" She covered Y'shtola's hands with her own, guiding her gently away from her navel, toward her more sensitive sides. She kept squeezing, rubbing.

"Honestly? Both." They began to sway gently back and forth. Lauden found the motion and the heat of Y'shtola's body to be very soothing.

"I... eat my feelings. A lot. There's some foods I really like the texture of and I just can't get enough of them, especially when I'm feeling down. I hated it before I changed, but after... I liked where the weight showed up, so I just kinda... leaned into it, I guess." She leaned back a bit for emphasis. "There's a chance it... uh. Might be thanks to Fantasia."

"You wanted to be soft?" Was that... awe? Admiration?

"...yes." She felt heat blossom across her entire face and neck.

"Well, I'm glad you did. I'm glad you are. You're beautiful." Y'shtola relaxed one hand, tugged with the other, coaxing Lauden to turn around. She took her hands and leaned back, silvered eyes drinking in her aether. "Now help me up on the counter and have me for dessert while I still have the capacity to ask you nicely." She grinned, tail whipping about impatiently.

Lauden didn't have to be asked twice. She quickly scooped Y'shtola up and planted the smaller woman on the counter, then stepped back to pull her sweater off. Y'shtola's slick folds made a tiny squelching noise as she settled herself, legs wrapping around her Warrior's torso as she pulled her sweat-soaked shirt off. She took either end of it in her hands and threw it over the taller woman's head, pulling it around her neck, bringing her in for a long, heated kiss.

Their height difference was almost an entire fulm - Y'shtola's position on the counter evened things up, making her temporarily eyes and ears above the matronly Elezen. "Oh... you like this, don't you?" She grinned, sweeping her hair back and kissing her forehead. "Looking up to me. Your whole aether has shifted." She let the shirt fall, took Lauden's head in her hands, thumbs massaging her long ears, tongue tracing her eyebrows.

Lauden moaned, luxuriating in the attention as she took Y'shtola's rump in her hands, squeezing, kneading the base of her tail with her index fingers. Her scent was intoxicating. She leaned down, kissed her right nipple, eliciting a thrilled moan as her tongue played over it. Another moan as she raked her long fingers down her back. A groan as she embraced her left breast with her tongue, her left hand continuing to stimulate her right. Y'shtola rubbed Lauden's hips with the backs of her calves as she played with her ears - head thrown back, breathing quickly, almost hyperventilating as pungent, musky sweat glazed her chest and forehead. She shifted on the counter, Lauden pulling her hips to the edge as she leaned back, legs hooking over her lover's shoulders, ankles crossing over her back, guiding her down, down.

"Oh... LAUDEN!" Y'shtola screamed, loud enough to startle her, fingers digging into the backs of her ears, knees pressing against her neck as the Warrior of Light tongued her sex. "Deeper!" She obliged. "DEEPER!" She obliged, nose brushing against her pearl. Unsure what to do in this position she opted for rolling and curling her tongue, feeling Y'shtola's walls, feeling her mouth fill with slick, feeling her own ears spark with pain as the feverish Miqo'te pulled on them and cried out, feeling her lungs begin to burn.

"Don't STOP!" Lauden gasped for air, traced Y'shtola's folds with three fingers of her left hand, coating them in her slick. She withdrew to groans of displeasure, re-entering at a new angle, earning a squeal of delight as she slid two fingers into her sex and one into her bud.

Lauden steadied herself with her right hand, slowly easing her left in, almost out, in, almost out of Y'shtola as she panted, recovering her breath, giving her ears a break as she pulled her head and shoulders back. Y'shtola gripped the lip of the counter, moaning wildly as she stroked, feeling her insides, pressing and rubbing her pearl with her thumb. The young woman groaned deliriously. Lauden raked her right hand up her belly, between her breasts, encircled her throat and squeezed.

She stiffened, heels digging into Lauden's shoulders. "Lauden I'm close I want your mouth on me I need your tongue inside me PLEASE!" She reached out, hand shaking. Lauden did as she asked, withdrawing her hand, licking her folds, brushing the underside of her pearl with her tongue. She took a breath and immersed herself, Y'shtola's ecstasy muffled as she pressed her thighs against her ears. She shuddered, bucked, squeezed her so tightly that she saw stars, hands fisting her hair, a long quavering moan filling the apartment as Lauden brought her to completion.

Lauden pulled back as her knees turned to water, sinking shakily to the stone floor. She spat out a mouthful of Y'shtola's fluids, steadied herself with her hands, ears ringing, vision tunneling.

"I guess I... squeezed you... a little hard there... huh?" Y'shtola panted, running her toes through her hair.

"Yeah," Lauden stood slowly, one hand on the counter next to her, the other pinching her nose, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "It's all right." She stood up straight, flashed a weak smile. "I'm fine now. How are you?" She offered her hands to the smaller woman and helped her down. Y'shtola stood bow-legged, leaning heavily on the sweat and slick coated counter top.

"That was good. If I wasn't in heat... that would have been great. You were mechanically amazing, Lauden. Thank you." Her breathing steadied. She was still sweating copiously, her scent stronger than ever. "But your aether... you..." she frowned, sighed, felt for a stool and sat down on it.

"I'm sorry, Y'shtola." Lauden rounded the counter into the kitchen, plucked a pair of cups out of the dish rack, filled them with water. "I... I'm..." She placed a cup on the counter, guided Y'shtola's hand to it. "I can't be what you need right now." Her voice was small, defeated. Lonely. "I'm sorry."

Y'shtola gulped down her water, held the cup out to Lauden. Lauden passed her the second cup and refilled the first. "For someone with such a need to perform so selflessly..." Y'shtola sipped her water as she gathered her words. "Lauden... I can't keep asking you to do something that's against your nature, no matter how good you are at it. I feel I've made the same sort of mistake the women in your past did. I...." They sipped their water. "...I made some very incorrect assumptions about you based solely on my limited understanding of your anatomy. I didn't properly consider your sexuality. I let my own need blind me to yours and for that I am very, very sorry."

The apartment was quiet for a time, the silence punctuated by the occasional sip.

"Thank you, Y'shtola. I accept your apology," Lauden whispered. "I don't know how to address that need. I just know it's very different from my desire to be here with you now - to help you with this - and it's different from how I've felt when we're together. The advice you gave me earlier makes a kind of sense to me but... I think I'll find it very hard to follow."

"You'll have some time to practice." Y'shtola finished her cup, placed it on the counter top down.

"How's that?" Lauden picked the cup up, rinsed it out and set it on the rack to dry.

"Well, I need you to go find me a mate. Not right this instant, but... early this afternoon, preferably. And the two of us - me, and the candidate - will need this place to ourselves for the night."

"You'd like me to stay at Cloud Nine tonight?"

"I'd like you to share a bed with somebody. Somebody who can satisfy your need, dearheart. Be that a room you rent at Cloud Nine or their room or some other place entirely. Listen to your instincts. Listen to your need. It's... not like finding the sort of company you have experience with. You may find it easier in some ways. Fulfilling that need can be very.... uncomplicated, I think you'll find." She stood, stretched, smiled. "I think you swived me hard enough to buy us a little time."

"What do you want to do with it?" Lauden finished her drink, rinsed out her cup.

"Honestly? I want you to lay down on one of these couches. Then I want to lay down on top of you and take a nap. How does that sound to you?"

"It sounds great," Lauden took her hand and guided her carefully over the carpets to the most comfortable looking couch.

Chapter Text

"What sort of food textures do you enjoy?" Y'shtola yawned. They had napped comfortably for a bit; she raised her head slightly from her position atop the larger woman, resting her head on her Warrior of Light's right breast.

"Lauden?" Her eyes were closed. "Mmm. Thnkn." She rubbed her face, blinked rapidly, yawned briefly. "How're you feeling?" she mumbled thickly.

"Right now? Curious." Y'shtola smiled gently. Lauden could see that she was lightly flushed. Her tail lay still - they had a little time, though her pants and small top would probably be soaked if Y'shtola hadn't placed her favored shirt between them. "How about you?" She asked as she sat up and slid back against the couch cushions, using both hands and her tail to keep the sodden survival shirt between her and everything else. Lauden used the resettlement opportunity to sit up, murmuring a "fine, thank you" as she ilmed over to make sure the smaller woman had space. She ran a hand through her hair and blinked some more. Y'shtola snuggled up against her right side; she wrapped her arm around her shoulders, gently stroked the fur of her right ear.

"Popotos, in their many splendored forms. Noodles. Rice. The way those things combine with meats and sauces. Meats and sauces without those things. I really, really like pastries. The ones with the nuts more than the sugary ones." She paused, thought. Y'shtola stroked her thigh. "Scrambled eggs, cheese... just about anything solid or soft that comes out of a creamery. You've seen me eat."

"Yes, and now that I know that you want to be soft I'm pondering how I might tempt you into becoming softer." Silvered eyes shined as she poked her Warrior's belly playfully. Lauden blushed and squirmed, nipples stiffening in the early afternoon light.

"Are you trying to warm me up again?" She gave the furred ear she was stroking a playful pinch.

"Maybe a little," Y'shtola smiled impishly. "I'll stop if it makes you feel awkward. I don't get the sense that it does, though, and I want you to feel confident and attractive when you're out hunting and gathering for the both of us. The sooner the better, if you please!" She patted Lauden's thigh twice, pulled away, stood up.

A rolling clunk from the back of the apartment - "What was that?" - as Y'shtola stretched.

"Probably laundry," Lauden launched herself off of the couch, trotting towards the back of the apartment with a speed that belied her size. A moment later she was back in the drawing room, holding her adventuring clothes, now cleaned and folded. "Just in time! I wasn't keen on the idea of wandering around Ishgard in nothing but a sweater."

"But you would have, wouldn't you?" Y'shtola stood against the wall, hands behind her back, watching Lauden change clothes.

"Wow, they did a solid job of patching my jacket." Lauden had her leather pants on, was fastening her sturdy top over her smalls. "I would have, yes," she answered, "and I'm glad I don't have to." She held up her Machinist's coat, looked it over, poked at the slightly mismatched patch, ran her finger around the dense stitching. Not a trace of grease or gore - even the stench was gone, replaced with the faint smell of Coerthan wildflowers. She lay it across the counter, crossing the room to her boots. She sat on the stairs to pull them on, tried to gauge the time of day from the slice of cloudy sky visible through the stained glass window above the door. She heard clattering, florid expletives, looked over to see Y'shtola fumbling around the dish rack for a cup. She finished with her boots and strode over to her lover, guiding her hands to the cups, the sink, the spigot, the taps.

Y'shtola fetched her own water this time.

"It's not going anywhere, is it? The sink, I mean." Joking, laced heavily with concern. "I can almost make it out now. You've imprinted on it; it reminds me of you." She drained her cup, set it next to the tap.

"I doubt it." Lauden hugged her from behind, nuzzled one of her ears with her chin. "The kitchen and bathroom are mechanically sound. Surfaces are level; things should stay where you put them." She stepped back, began checking her belt pouches - key, Gil, various odds and ends. A holdout weapon she'd forgotten about. "Take this," she pressed the hilt of the small knife into Y'shtola's palm. "Hide it under the mattress, just in case."

"Thank you, Lauden," she spun the stubby blade in her hand, handing it back to her safe end first. "That won't be necessary. I may not be able to focus well enough to see properly or to use white magic, but thaumaturgy -" she snapped her fingers, a hiss of sparking flame flickering briefly above them "- comes easily. If my safety becomes an issue I shall need you to find a second mate after you dispose of whatever remains of the first. I doubt it will come to that." She gazed up, tugging gently on the taller woman's sleeve. Lauden leaned down to kiss her - long, tender, longing. "I wish it could be you," Y'shtola whispered. "I wish it could be you." She hugged Lauden with her arms and tail. "I'm grateful that you made the effort, that you did so despite the cost. I want you to enjoy yourself tonight, I want to greet you tomorrow with our needs fulfilled." She sighed, eyes closed, fingers tracing Lauden's shoulder blades through her jacket. "Don't overthink it. Leave your mind behind. I promise you I'll take care of it for you while you're out." She smiled gently, clearly wishing it was possible. "Now go!" She squeezed Lauden's bottom with her left hand, pointing in the general direction of the door with her right. "Bring me a mate, woman!" Commanding, mirthful - she was smiling, trying to play it lightly, but Lauden could see the concern in her body language, the worry on her face, the desperation in her eyes.

Lauden tucked the knife into a pouch, adjusted her clothing and utility belt, tied back her hair with a gasket, settled her cracked goggles onto her forehead, fastened her jacket. Y'shtola watched as her aether became more focused, mission-oriented - the Warrior of Light she'd come to know so well, right down to her aether. The deep swirling undercurrent of uncertainty encircling a diffuse haze of need was unmistakably her.

Hopefully it wouldn't last the night.

"Anything for you, Y'shtola." Lauden smiled, kissed the crown of her head and both of her ears, then headed out. Y'shtola watched her leave, refilling her cup as she heard the door lock. She took a drink, her free hand balling, flexing, trembling, resisting, before she slid her fingers between her folds.

Please, be quick. She set the cup down and sank to the floor, tail thrashing, exhausted by the effort it had taken to hold herself together.

Lauden shivered at the chill air, popped her collar, pulled her gloves on. The air seemed clear and fresh - she wondered what the apartment would smell like when she returned. Hopefully with a guest. Empyreum seemed practically deserted - a few Elezen, a couple Hyur. She thrust her hands into her jacket pockets and hunched her shoulders, wishing she'd brought a scarf as the frigid breeze tugged at her hair and ears.

Eventually she found herself in the Pillars, outside Dzemael manor. The airship dock to the south was empty - nothing scheduled, apparently, or maybe freshly departed. Either way, there were no Miqo'te in the area. She plodded onward, wandering almost aimlessly, her mind a nonsensical undefined swirl of worry. A nod to the guard outside the Fortemps mansion - a familiar face, openly curious, respectfully silent. Twists, turns, stairs - too many stairs for a city this cold and a knee this stiff - and the familiar alleyway of the Jeweled Crozier. She slowed, became far more attentive - the crowd was thicker here, more varied. Startled looks from a pair of feminine-presenting Miqo'te looking over the jobs board. They were downwind, she realized - Y'shtola's scent still clung to her. That might make things a bit easier. Maybe. Seven hells, the crowd in the market was diverse by Ishgardian standards, but not diverse enough.

Onward, downward, her knee screaming at her to stop it with the stairs, to use the Aetheryte network. The Skysteel Manufactory - unlikely, and risky. If she stuck her head in there she'd be talking shop with Stephanivien until the sun came up. Not what Y'shtola needed. More stairs - she stopped at the top and stepped off to the side near the ramp, to rest her knee and survey the Aetheryte plaza. Oschon favored her - the pain in her knee eased as a favorable breeze kissed her back, ruffling her hair in the direction of the Aetheryte.

She stood and waited, watching folks come and go, come and go. A good deal of tradesmen, here for construction and expansion of Empyreum. The occasional adventurer. There - a cloaked figure coalesced, started to move, stopped, turned in her direction. They drew their hood down, sniffing the air - ears flicking, canting forward. They flowed through the crowd like a liquid, emerging off to the side, quickly changing course and heading in her direction.

Lauden was still thinking what to say as they bounded up the stairs and stopped nearby, looking around, sniffing the air. Messy black hair in a short braid. Yellow eyes. White cloak, dark clothes studded with pouches, a satchel over their shoulder. About Y'shtola's height, maybe a little taller. Slight, but muscular. "Excuse me, miss?" Deep voice, too. Manly. "Have you.... uh...." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, flushing slightly. "I don't suppose you've...." Oh and he's awkward, too!

"Seen a lady Miqo'te around?" Lauden finished his thought. "I have, actually. She'd like to meet you."

The markings on his cheeks disappeared into a bright blush, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I... uh.... who...." he stammered. He took a step back, hands and tail raised in caution.

Lauden decided to be direct. "I have a friend who might go blind if she takes the contraceptive. She could use your help. I could use your name." She tried for an inviting smile. He relaxed a bit.

"T'zuki. T'zuki Tia." He bowed - a short, deep nod of the head, ears steadily canted in her direction. "I... uh... I'm... I was on my way to the Atheneum Arcaneum, I don't suppose you know where it is...? I forget how to get there from here."

"I'll point it out to you on the way to where my friend is staying. Before we go anywhere I need you to tell me that you understand what it is that I'm asking you to do for her." Lauden crossed her arms, made eye contact, held it.

"You're... asking me to break your friend out of heat." The poor guy had no idea what to do with himself.

"I am. No strings attached. Enjoy yourself tonight, visit the Arcaneum tomorrow." While Lauden didn't think she was particularly good at being persuasive most of the time, it seemed like she was getting through to this guy.

"What's her name?" He was trying to talk himself out of this, and failing. Spectacularly. Y'shtola would probably find his struggle adorable any other time of the year.

"She'll tell you her name if she wants to. My name is Lauden Praud. You may have heard of me."

"The Warrior of Light?! That means your friend must be...."

"No relation to you. Yeah. Help her out, T'zuki." He was so conflicted. Lauden played her final card. "Please?"

Whatever was bothering him calmed considerably, stopped entirely after a couple of deep breaths.

"I will do as you ask," he agreed. "Please, lead the way."

They chatted a bit on the walk to Empyreum. Lauden assured T'zuki that this was in fact real and not some two-Gil bodice-ripper; T'zuki assured Lauden that he was a socially awkward academic. Very socially awkward in fact, and very nearly as academic. And apparently very, very inexperienced. Lauden chose not to follow that thread - she knew Y'shtola would guide him through whatever she needed him to do; it seemed the spiritual connection mattered more than anything else, and, well, the young man certainly was spirited. She focused on soothing his nerves, noticed his demeanor changing as they neared the apartment. He became far more alert - aroused. One of the top floor windows was cracked open, a faint whiff of Y'shtola's scent carried on the breeze. She offered a silent prayer to Oschon in thanks for his continued favor as they neared the door.

T'zuki was vibrating. The fresh scent from the window combined with the fading musk embedded in Lauden's hair and clothes was really getting to him. Lauden patted his back reassuringly and knocked on the door.

Muffled pounding down the stairs, the rattling of the door mechanism being fumbled with, figured out. An overpowering wave of musk as the door opened - T'zuki grabbed Lauden's arm for support as his knees weakened.

Y'shtola Rhul. Skyclad, sweating.

Silvered eyes sized up T'zuki. "You'll do." Her gaze turned briefly to Lauden. "Go. Get swived." He yelped in surprise as the disheveled young woman grabbed a fistful of his cloak and yanked him inside, slamming the door behind them.

Lauden thought for a moment, then slowly reached out with the key and locked the door. She stared at it blankly for what seemed like awhile, lost in thought, then turned and walked away, heading for the Pillars and, eventually, the Forgotten Knight.

Chapter Text

Lauden had wandered the chill distance between Aymeric's apartment in Empyreum and the Forgotten Knight lost in thought, grinding her gears, getting nowhere. Y'shtola's advice - don't think about it - made sense on the surface but was frustratingly oxymoronic, at least for her, at least given her history.

She sighed, her hands idly fiddling with an Allagan finger puzzle - a cube, divided into smaller cubes that rotated one row at a time, each side a single color when solved - as she sat at the bar at the Forgotten Knight, a cup of steaming hot herbal tea in front of her. She'd sized up the tavern, eyed every person she passed on the way here, felt drawn to none of them. She figured that was the condition she wouldn't - couldn't - give up. T'zuki was cute but occupied indefinitely. And short. Not that she didn't mind being the tall one - that was almost always the case - but... for this, she wanted to feel smaller. Wanted to feel protected. Wanted to feel like the other party could destroy her with a glance and had chosen not to and please let me show you my gratitude with my very inexperienced mouth, if it's not too much to ask. My very willing bud is available as well, should you prefer it.

Idle glances, briefly raised eyebrows from various patrons as she growled in frustration. She'd solved the finger puzzle, remained clueless as to how to address more urgent matters. With a few twists she'd thoroughly scrambled the thing again, resetting it for solving. If only her mind could be reconfigured so easily.

The tea was reddish, floral, unfamiliar. Kept hot by some sort of enchantment on the cup. She pondered the pills she'd been using to help Y'shtola, realized that the cup and the puzzle were entirely appropriate representations of her mental state. She was near to boiling and had so much to work through to let her steam out.

Lauden slouched against the back of her bar stool, gazing emptily at the balcony above the bar. Another sigh - a complex mix of longing and fear - quietly passed her lips as her fingers worked the puzzle, her hands disconnected from her conscious mind.

What she craved now had once been thrust upon her - into her - without her interest or consent. She shuddered at the memory of the experience, decades distant but no less disgusting. A sip of the tea to wash away the memory of the taste. No pillar she chose to embrace would be that steeped in filth, no person she chose to give herself to would be that... selfish. She shuddered again, shoulders vibrating, hunching, drawing protectively inward. She turned her attention to the present day long enough to force her body into a more relaxed state, to the great relief of her neck.

She was quite certain that she wouldn't be preyed upon again, that anyone who tried would feel the depths of their mistake, yet that risk - that fear of vulnerability - weighed upon her like a great block of stone. Clack, clack, the gentle vibration from the puzzle as her fingers solved it again. Clack, clack, clack, shuffling the cubes, twisting the device until its faces were scrambled, fingers working the surfaces without thought or direction. Much like her mind.

She couldn't just pick a random guy. She might make his sun, sure, but she needed... something. A spark, a magnetism, an attraction to something beyond physical traits. A conscious desire to bear their children. Lauden smirked at the thought, fought back the surge of tears that threatened to spring to the surface at the consideration of that idea. It wasn't entirely impossible - one day she might be able to fulfill herself. Maybe now she could use it to guide her in the right direction. That was the root of it - the vulnerability surrounding the need to take another into herself, to feel them spend within her, to pump her full, for that seed to take hold and grow. She squirmed at the thought, her nipples and hen stiffening. That urge had been flitting about her mind like a moth since she had come of age. When she finally became herself - when she had come of age again - it had become something different, something vast. A dense and verdant jungle of desire that she had no idea how to articulate or fulfill. No longer a single point on a grid, her need felt like it had become the grid itself.

Solved again, shuffled again. She wondered how Aymeric might react to being propositioned. He seemed to regard her favorably; he was beautiful and kind and tall and broad and so duty-bound that he was probably still in his office across the street. Hmm. Maybe eventually, but not tonight. Maybe if she slept alone tonight she would visit him in the morning and use her mouth to sate her need from beneath his desk. Let Lucia watch him squirm, let her wonder why. Let his spend jet down her throat in the middle of a meeting. She found herself smiling at the thought. He might decline her advances, but... he did seem to like her. Maybe he'd let her like him back.

"Thank you." She looked up idly, futilely - hidden by the balcony, a departing patron was holding open the upstairs door for someone outside. The voice was feminine, with a light Ilsabard accent, clear as a bell above the low murmur of multiple conversations. She looked around - nearly the same crowd as when she'd sat down. Mostly Ishgardian, one or two adventurers. Nothing particularly exciting. She sipped her tea, grimaced pleasurably as it nearly scorched her tongue. The faint smell of Chocobo sweat peeked around the edges of the flavorful drink's floral bouquet and the background smells of the bar. The slow creaking of the Forgotten Knight's broad upper staircase punctuated the low conversation - the sound slower and far heavier than usual.

She heard a sliding thump to her lower right, glanced down to see a saddlebag with a shoulder strap settle against the bottom of the bar. She looked up as the empty stool next to her scraped back, eyes widening in surprise at the figure she beheld. An incredibly tall - six fulms toes to crown! - incredibly feminine Viera with absolutely enormous breasts, barely contained in a web of custom segmented armor plate that looked like it was going to give out at any moment. A long heavy white coat concealing wide hips, plated thigh-high boots that looked like they were designed to keep her standing first and protected second, the grip of what was almost certainly a gunblade visible over her shoulder. Blonde hair tinged with cobalt blue drawn back behind her long lapine ears, loose bangs hiding her eyes for the moment. She pulled her gloves off and tucked them into coat pockets, then slid the stool out a precise distance with practiced hands. She sat down, slowly and heavily, her giant breasts resting on her lap, the ceramic plates of her cuirass almost brushing the bar.

"Gibrillont!" That same lightly accented voice she'd heard a moment ago, it belonged to her. She nodded to the barkeep, swept her hair out of her eyes. "A mug of hot chocolate, please? Put it on my tab."

"Cheria! Good to see you! I'll have it for you shortly." Gibrillont set about preparing the drink as she settled in. The bar stool complained a bit - the woman's chest had to weigh nearly as much as the rest of her, putting her many ponzes past what most Elezen furniture was comfortable with. She sighed as she got comfortable, rolling her shoulders, arching her back - the weight of her chest carried somewhere else, at least for a little while. She leaned back, finally comfortable, her gunblade several ilms from the low back of the stool.

Lauden knew it was incredibly impolite to stare but couldn't figure out how to stop. She had never seen a Viera so tall, so pretty, and had definitely never seen a chest like hers before - not on fertility idols, not described in bodice-rippers, not even attributed to Nophica herself. The ruminating Elezen realized she felt... inadequate? Envious, maybe? She was well endowed by the standards of her race, certainly, but her idea of what constituted a large bust had just been expanded. Considerably.

"Psst. Up here." Lauden felt her face, ears, and neck flush as she realized the goddess she was gawking at was talking. To her. She turned her attention upward, awkardly making contact with kind turquoise eyes above an even kinder smile that made her heart ache. "It's all right. Everyone stares at first. Please, relax." her voice was smooth, warm, inviting. Lauden felt a profound tightness deep within her begin to loosen, just a little, as if on command. She felt blood flow into her nethers, felt her nipples stiffen.

A quiet cough on the other side of the bar. Gibrillont, holding a large ornate beer stein filled with hot chocolate. He leaned over the bar, long fingers supporting the heavy vessel in an iron grip, offering it to Cheria handle first. She took it with both hands and a quiet "Thank you," holding the drink beneath her delicate nose, breathing deeply.

Lauden sipped her tea, wondered which beverage smelled better - she wasn't usually one for sweets, hadn't so much as thought of chocolate in weeks, but the smell... the smell really suited the well-endowed blonde woman sitting next to her.

The busty Viera took a sip of her drink, then set the stein on the great shelf of her chest, steadying it with a hand as she turned her attention to Lauden. "I'm Cheria. Cheria Haredottir. May I ask your name?"

"La- Lauden," Lauden stammered, "Lauden Praud." She tried for a warm smile, had no idea what sort of expression came out, felt herself blushing again.

"Oh, I've heard of you!" Lauden braced for the usual hero of the realm bit. "Stephanivien has mentioned you a few times. He says you're a really talented Machinist." Huh.

"You know Stephanivien?" That seemed like a good thing to say at this point.

"I do, yes. We met recently. He asked the Lord Commander to find arms wielders from around the realm to test equipment he's developing for Machinists. I happened to be available and decided it was a good reason to visit Ishgard. I was not expecting it to be this cold." She shivered comically and took a long drink from her stein. "Or this beautiful." She winked. At her. At. Her. Lauden felt burning heat blossom across her cheeks and ears.

"I... uh. Uhm. Uh..." she was too stunned to speak.

"You're quite cute when you blush." Cheria smiled. Her voice was gentle, teasing.

"So are you also a... uh.... mechanically in- inclined?" Lauden swore she knew how to talk. Or had known. She seemed to have forgotten.

"I'm no Machinist, but I know my way around a gunblade. And I know a thing or two about armor smithing. You don't find a cuirass like this just lying around in some ruin." She rapped a chest plate with her knuckles - a dull ceramic clack, not metallic at all. She nodded in the direction of Lauden's hands, indicating the forgotten finger puzzle held between her fingers. "One might find something like that, though. That's Allagan, isn't it?"

"You're familiar with Allagan relics?" Lauden remembered the puzzle, finally noticed it. One, two... three twists and it resolved, vibrating slightly, faces glowing briefly. Cheria smiled. Lauden scrambled it again, absently fidgeting with the toy as she turned her attention away from it. "I found this one a little ways back. It's a children's toy, I think. I've found that my hands like to play with it when I'm thinking. Or talking."

Cheria sipped her drink, turned her attention from the puzzle to Lauden's eyes. "I am familiar, yes. Interesting. You've been playing with it since I first saw you." Lauden felt an unexpected thrill at the idea of being noticed. By her. "And we're talking now. What were you thinking about before I interrupted you? You seemed to be somewhere else entirely, until I took a seat."

"I... er. Well. I..." She felt the entire weight of her plight struggling to leap out of her mouth. "It''s... uh..."

"A lot, it seems. Would you like to talk about it at a table? That one's open, and relatively private, and is next to a nice wooden wall that my back will enjoy." She nodded behind Lauden, to their left - the table in the corner formed by the stairs sat empty. The flustered Elezen nodded mutely. "Excellent! Do you like hot chocolate?" Another nod. "Are you hungry?" A third - not as emphatic but Lauden hadn't eaten since brunch and figured she probably should. "Gibrillont! Two more! And two bowls of your stoutest stew!" Cheria held up her stein in the direction of the barkeep, nodding her head in the direction of the table.

Cheria grunted as she stood up and stretched, her colossal chest bobbing like a pair of watermelons in a pond as she she rolled her shoulders, rocked her hips. While Lauden tucked the toy away Cheria kicked the strap of her saddlebag into her hand, drawing it up to carry like a purse. The two women stood eye to eye with each other - they were very nearly the same height, Cheria making up the slight difference with the heels of her armored boots. Confident turquoise gazed into muddled hazel, searching, weighing... appreciating? Lauden didn't know and desperately hoped to find out.

They made the corner table their own. It took Cheria some moments to get situated - sliding her bag into the corner, pulling the chair out, angling it towards the wall just so, then slowly and carefully sitting down, shoving it into the wall with her legs, breathing a comical sigh of relief as her gunblade clattered against the wooden planks.

Lauden scooted the table towards the Viera's armor, careful to stop it an ilm or so short of the ceramic plating. She nudged a wedge used to keep one of the legs level back into place with her boot.

Gibrillont approached while she was making herself comfortable, moving mugs and bowls and utensils and napkins from his tray to the table with detached certainty and a quiet "Enjoy." The women offered their thanks and turned their attention to the table, and each other. The crockery had tiny warning glyphs near the lip, inside and out - these were enchanted vessels. Their food and drink would stay warm.

"...which one's the stew and which one's the chocolate?" Lauden wondered. Both were thick, almost black.

"The chocolate is probably in the mugs," Cheria laughed, "which means this -" she hefted a bowl "- is the stew." She held it under her nose, savoring the aroma. "Have you eaten here before?"

"Just the skyfish and chips." Lauden sunk her spoon into the stew, watched in awe as the thick fluid slowly pooled back around the stem of the utensil. "Wow. This stuff is thick." She handed Cheria the other spoon, handle first. "Thick and delicious," the extravagantly endowed Viera replied. "I think you'll like it." She winked. At her! Again! Cheria took the spoon and dug in, holding the bowl in place atop her chest with her free hand.

The stew was the best that Lauden had ever tasted. Thick, hearty broth. Chunks of different kinds of complementary meats. Thickly cut popotos and carrots, soft all the way through. Little bits of celery and onion. Tiny dumplings! Rich and delicate seasoning that accentuated the other flavors without overwhelming them. She could feel it warming her belly, could feel that warmth radiating outwards. "I think I'm in love," between spoonfuls - earnest, awestruck.

"Already? But we just met!" Cheria grinned, her eyes glittering as she beheld Lauden - now spluttering and blushing all the way out to the tips of her ears.

"I mean - I meant, the-" Lauden stammered. Cheria smiled, pointing at Lauden's bowl with her spoon. "Eat. Then we'll talk." Commanding and kind - like Y'shtola but with a warm spark that Lauden couldn't put a finger on. She complied, and before long the women had finished their bowls.

Cheria leaned forward, cuirass scraping the table, dropping off her bowl with one hand while picking up her original stein of hot chocolate with the other. Lauden slid her cup of tea towards the center of the table and took one of the two full mugs in her hands, holding it up, learning the scent of it - thick, rich, with a hint of sweetness.

"So..." Cheria crossed her arms over her bust, the stein wobbling slightly in her right hand. "Your thought. Your thought that's a lot. Tell me about it."

"I... am trying to..." Wait, no, start again. "I'm uncertain how much context I'll need to add. For it to hold its proper shape as a problem, so it doesn't sound... silly is the wrong word but it's close enough. I am struggling with a problem that doesn't seem to be a problem for a lot of folks."

Cheria sipped her cocoa, rolled her shoulders against the wall. Her gunblade made a quiet, rough scraping noise. "It must bother you deeply. Please, start with where your thoughts were when I interrupted you earlier. If I feel I need to know more for things to hold their proper shape, as you say, I shall ask."

Lauden pondered dropping her Aymeric fantasies in Cheria's lap; realized there probably wasn't much room for them. She sipped her cocoa - delicious! - and thought for a moment. She took a deep breath, willed the words to come to her.

"I... desire aroused length. In my mouth. Down my throat. I need to feel someone's spend in my mouth. I feel like I'm dying of thirst and..." she trailed off, waved a hand in the air dismissively. "I can't connect that need to reality. I was... fantasizing about pleasuring the Lord Commander when I heard your bag thump against the bar."

"Lord de Borel is quite attractive," Cheria mused. "He should count himself lucky to be considered in such a context by such a woman." Her eyes smiled, the rest of her expression hidden behind her stein.

Lauden was reasonably certain that was a complement. "I just..." hands, waving.

"...can't find the missing piece between need and fulfillment?" Cheria's tone was cautious, compassionate. "Why Lord de Borel specifically? To me he's an authority figure - a handsome one, to be sure, but not one that I know beyond a few words."

"Well..." Lauden found herself thinking out loud. "I know him. He's a colleague. We've worked together, I've gotten to know him a bit. He's kind and honorable and upstanding. He's doing me a huge favor at the moment, actually, though that's a private matter. And he is so. Swiving. Attractive." She smiled, a hint of lasciviousness around her lips, her eyes unfocused, daydreaming.

"Those qualities, in that order. The fact that you find him physically attractive being last on the list. I think that might be significant." Cheria's tone was careful, clinical. Lauden had heard similar from Y'shtola - when she was making connections about her that she had yet to realize for herself.

"How's that?" Lauden knew she was right, could feel the pieces sliding into order, beginning to fit together.

"You value him as an individual. That value enables you to see him as a man, to desire him, as a man. Think back, think of others you've desired the company of - how well did you know them before you started to feel that desire?" Cheria made eye contact, held it, clinical turquoise searching questioning hazel.

Lauden realized she didn't want to blink, that she wanted to drown in those eyes, forced herself to break the connection by blocking it with a swig of cocoa.

"With men, specifically, as I get to know them I find myself... warming to them. With others, in some cases... it doesn't take very long at all," Lauden admitted, "but the personalities I seem to gravitate towards are usually...." she trailed off, lost in the Viera's deep turquoise eyes again.

"...feminine?" Cheria murmured quietly, knowingly. Just between the two of them. Her eyebrows raised minutely, the corners of her mouth curled upward subtly.

Lauden's eyes widened. She felt heat kindle and spark, blossoming into flame deep within her.

"That's why you can't bring yourself to randomly pick up some cute guy off the street." Cheria's tone was less controlled, caution giving way to excitement - but still quiet. Conspirators, whispering. "Attraction grows from connection for you. Has it ever developed the other way around?"

"A couple of times." Lauden had no idea why they were whispering but returned Cheria's conspiratorial tone in kind anyway. "Those relationships went... badly." To put it mildly.

"Animal rutting isn't what you're fantasizing about, is it? It's part of it, but it's not all of it."

"You're right," Lauden realized. "It's... how everything in that situation feels. The details, the emotions, the smells. The needs that are being fulfilled by the act. There's a component I'm not ready to talk about yet that's pretty critical and that being engaged along with everything else..." Lauden emitted a very low, very heated, very animal growl.

"Do you think you'd be able to talk about it in my room?" Cheria drained her cocoa, cuirass scraping the table again as she thunked the stein down. She took a sip from the untouched mug, leaned back against the wall.

Lauden was speechless.

"You want me to..." she fidgeted with her mug.

"Come to my room." Cheria sipped from hers.

"And..." imploring, quavering.

"... talk." Cheria winked, smiling invitingly.

Lauden felt like she was melting. She spluttered, ran her hands through her hair, sipped her drink, adjusted her goggles, ran through a dozen little nervous ticks as Cheria watched happily.

"I'd like you to join me." Earnest, forthright. "I think we may be able to help each other."

Lauden nodded enthusiastically, managed to wring a "yes please" out of stunned vocal chords, and finished her cocoa while Cheria reacquired her saddlebag and slowly got to her feet.

Cheria had a room in Cloud Nine, the inn attached to The Forgotten Knight. It was large, spartan, worn down, and cold. One of the few with a private bathroom - the door next to the wardrobe was open, the space dimly lit, indistinct. The weak light of dusk filled the room with a pale blue gloom. A large flannel nightshirt lay on the bed, a saddlebag matching the one Cheria carried on the floor near the foot. The tall Viera strode toward the desk under the window as Lauden stoked the coals in the fireplace, warming the chill air slightly. She heard a metallic clunk against wood - probably the gunblade - followed by the rustling of heavy cloth as she lit the wall lanterns, filling the room with light that was dim, warm, comfortable. A grunt and a grumble of frustration as she turned her attention to Cheria - her coat and blade were draped across the desk. She was bare armed, reaching behind her back, fingers brushing the locking clasp that held her cuirass together.

"A little help, please? It's hard to take off when I'm full." Her eyes were pleading, pitiful. Lauden realized that she would do anything those eyes asked of her.

"Sure." Lauden approached from the side, noticing that she seemed to have a bit of a belly under her boobs. "What do you mean by full? Dinner was filling, sure, but not that filling, at least for me." She followed Cheria's hands to the clasp, realized it was a larger, heavier version of smallclothes hooks, strained to their limit. "Breathe out," Lauden advised, placing her palms on either side of the clasps.

"That's not the kind of full I meant," Cheria huffed, emptied her lungs. Lauden pressed against Cheria's back and drew her palms together. The hooks moved slightly, then a bit more, then... they released! Lauden stepped back as the cuirass flew open, revealing a long, gorgeous strip of pale skin ending in a light spray of freckles peeking out of her pants.

"Thank you," Cheria sighed. Lauden had never heard such profound relief.

"You... uh. Aren't wearing smallclothes," Lauden noticed. Cheria gripped the clasps and drew the armor open further, revealing a very naked and very muscular back. Of course she was fit - she was exercising constantly, just carrying those breasts around. That armor couldn't be light, either.

"You're about to see why." Cheria looked over her shoulder, smiling. Matter of fact, with complex notes of pride, and... something else?

A heavy scraping clunk as she drew herself up on her tip-toes, leaning forward - her armored belly scraping the desk. The Viera rolled her shoulders, shrugged her arms out of the armor. She settled back on her heels, hooked her thumbs through the open armholes of the cuirass, and stepped backwards, out of it. Lauden thought she heard a quiet pop pop, but couldn't be sure. Thumbs still in the armholes, Cheria lowered the masterwork of cloth and ceramic and exotic materials to the desk. From her position behind and a little to the side, Lauden could see... rubber tubing? Some kind of... nipple attachments? What she'd mistaken for a belly was in fact a pouch, a pair of tanks or bottles outlined in padded fabric.

Cheria's breasts wobbled freely, practically heaving in the evening light, their great graceful curves traced with the warm glow of the lamps. She took several deep breaths, shaking, jiggling, leaning forward to rest her titanic chest on the desk for a moment. The wooden planks groaned. Lauden squirmed, tried to figure out what to do with herself, decided a respectful couple of steps backwards was the way to go.

"This is what I meant when I said I was full." The mythically endowed Viera turned slowly, her breasts jiggling and wobbling as she dragged them off of the desk, slowly swinging them around to face Lauden.

They hadn't been wobbling - they'd been sloshing. Thick drops of milk dripped from large firm nipples, slid down puffy areola, down the vast glorious undersides of her breasts, falling to the floor, splattering, soaking the ancient wood planks beneath Cheria's boots. She grinned, raising her arms, palms up in an exaggerated shrug. "If you're going to meld Materia into your armor? Take it off first. Otherwise..." She turned her hands downward, pointing at her drizzling nipples.

Lauden gasped - in awe at the stunning beauty before her, in amazement at the possibility that Materia might be more useful than she'd ever imagined, in shock at the erection straining uncomfortably against her pants. Sudden erections just did not happen to her, not since she'd changed. She glanced down, squeaked, hurriedly covered herself with her hands - but not before Cheria noticed.

"Would you like some help with that?" Cheria asked, unperturbed. She smiled her now-familiar warm, kindly smile as she placed her hands on her hips and leaned back against the desk, the wood creaking and complaining at her weight. Milk continued to drip to the floor, at a slow but steadily increasing pace. "It's all right. You don't have to hide yourself from me. This was not what I had in mind when I suggested that we might be able to help each other, but... I am willing to help you."

Lauden felt her hen straining painfully, soaking her smalls. She'd been so focused on her thirst that she'd forgotten there were still one or two things that could physically ready her without notice. Fortunately a rapid response usually meant a rapid retreat, though in this case her hen was slow to subside. Gradually, it reduced to a more familiar readiness - almost invisible. Lauden shifted her hands away, bit her lip, scratched her head, made a general nervous mess out of herself. "What... ah... what did you... have in mind? Downstairs?" She stammered.

"We can talk about that later." Cheria's voice was smooth, soothing. "Right now I'm interested in our more immediate needs." She smiled coyly. "Normally this is a very private thing for me. Downstairs I started to feel that you were someone I might like to share this with. Now..." She stepped forward, pressing her chest into Lauden's torso, milk soaking her jacket. "... now I'd like to share myself with you even more." She reached out with her right hand, stroked Lauden's left cheek with the backs of her first two fingers. "Now... be a good girl for me and take off your clothes."

"A... good... girl?" Lauden had never heard those words, in that order, addressed to her before. She felt something deep within her crack, thaw, and melt. Felt her ears burning, felt her heart hammering in her chest. She shrugged out of her jacket, heard it hit the floor, felt streams of milk soaking her blouse.

"A good girl takes off all of her clothes." Cheria smiled commandingly. She sat heavily on the bed and began to work the buckles and struts of her boots, loosening them. Milk splattered off of plate and leather, dribbling to the floor.

Lauden wanted more than anything to help, wanted more than even that to do as she'd been told. Some small part of her commanded her to stop, demanded to know why. The hot tide of desire rising within her answered - totally, incoherently, and with final authority. She unbuttoned her top and tossed it on top of her jacket, noticed Cheria gazing attentively at her belly as she undid her belt and stepped out of her boots. Her leathers hit the floor with a rustling thump. She stood before Cheria in her smalls, the excited bulge in her loins now very, very obvious, swelling again as she beheld the Viera's breasts, beheld her beautiful, well manicured feet as she slid them out of her boots. Cheria looked up appreciatively, cocked an eyebrow, nodded pointedly at her top, eyes flicking to her bottom, lingering briefly before tracking slowly up to Lauden's face.

Lauden unfastened her top, adding it to the pile of garments. She hooked her thumbs into her smalls and lowered them slowly, not entirely sure what the tall Viera was expecting, or how she'd react, yet filled with the overwhelming desire to please her. Her smalls slid down her thighs, puddled around her ankles. She presented herself to Cheria, confused and more than a little aroused.

Cheria took a long appreciative look at her, clearly pleased with what she saw. Lauden blushed and fidgeted, not sure what to do with her hands, how to stand, where to look.

"You're a beautiful woman." Lauden felt the words pour over her like warm honey. "Now, be a good girl and lie down." Cheria leaned back, grabbed the pillows, tossed them to the foot of the bed, tossed the nightshirt out into the room - well clear of milk stains. She patted the sheets invitingly. She drew her left knee up on the bed, her thigh lifting the breast above, milk dripping onto the dark fabric of her leggings. Her right breast hung low, drizzling into a growing puddle on the floor as Lauden mounted the bed and carefully situated herself, knees together, head on the pillows, hands folded across her torso between her breasts and belly.

Cheria gently stroked the sole of Lauden's left foot with her index finger, watched her toes flex and curl. She studied the matronly Elezen carefully, noted that she seemed to enjoy her touch. "We could consider consent to be me asking you to join me and you agreeing," she began slowly, carefully, "but in the interests of clarity, and given that we find ourselves in a position neither had divulged to the other previously..."

Lauden propped herself up on her elbows, made and held eye contact. "What would you like to do with me, Cheria?"

"I'd like to swive your womanhood with my tits." Her eyes darted to Lauden's hen, back to her eyes. "Then I'd like you to milk me." She glanced down again, grinned at the Elezen's rapidly swelling length. Cheria's gaze was hungry, almost feral. She placed her left hand between Lauden's thighs, fingers just shy of her stones. Lauden found it a little bit scary and a lot bit arousing. She rolled her hips, briefly ground her bottom against the sheets.

"I'd like that," Lauden smiled. "I'd like that a lot."

"Good girl." Cheria grinned, walking her fingers up Lauden's thighs, grazing her stones, caressing her length longingly and oh so very, very lightly.

Lauden frissoned, her nipples stiffening, her hen throbbing. Cheria's touch was electric. A moan escaped her lips, became a groan as she felt the bed shifting. Cheria drew herself up on it, straddling her, her heavy breasts pressing into her calves, her thighs, warm milk jetting between her skin and the bedclothes. She uttered a long shuddering gasp, hands gripping the sheets in tight, white-knuckled fists as soft warm flesh engulfed her throbbing hen.

Cheria pressed her palms to her collarbone and drew her hands down slowly, slowly, outward, palms angled inward, pressing her fulms of cleavage together and downward. Lauden bucked and squirmed beneath her, her hen pulsing, straining, slick. Slicker than she'd ever thought possible. Cheria moved forward slightly, her breasts heaving, brushing against Lauden's knuckles. She looked up to her lover, lustful yet uncertain. "Play with me, Kitten," her Viera goddess purred. "Fill your hands with me."

Lauden turned her knuckles to the sheets and slid her hands under the softest, warmest breasts she had ever felt. She moaned with joy as her fingertips encountered dampness, slickness, Cheria's large leaking nipples. She cupped them in her palms, felt the warm soft weight pressing down on her forearms, felt her hands filling with hot milk. Her hen pulsed, strained, felt like a proper part of her - still not where it should be, but would she be able to enjoy herself like this if it was? She didn't think so. She didn't think at all. She squeezed, closing her eyes and shivering with delight as her lover expressed into her hands.

She felt the rhythm and pressure of the flesh engulfing her lower torso change and shift, heard a spitting noise, felt slick fingers caress and encircle her hen. Cheria mixed their fluids with her hand, pumping her slowly - almost glacially, eliciting a low moan. "You like that, don't you Kitten?" Cheria purred, her gaze heavy, heated. Lauden gasped, nodded mutely. "Tell me how this feels." She parted her breasts, exposing the Elezen's slick and throbbing length to the night air. She drew her fingers up the underside, brushing the skin lightly. Lauden shuddered. Cheria's delicate fingers grazed her tip, feather-light, rubbing gingerly with feather-light pressure.

Lauden shook, eyes wide, mouth open and whimpering. She stammered, stuttered, her throat incapable of more than keening moans as words abandoned her. Slowly, delicately, Cheria stroked her from tip to hilt, tip to hilt, again and again, her fingers tracing trails of Lauden's slick down her pillar. She shifted her weight, the warm of her chest rubbing against Lauden's belly and thighs and everything in between as she changed position slightly. She moved forward, downward, her face closer to Lauden's, her fingers continuing to stroke and brush.

"I'd like to taste you, Kitten." Cheria's voice was hungry, her eyes ravenous. Lauden felt like she was looking in a mirror - she recognized the need, realized her lover's choice of words was a dramatic understatement. She nodded, a husky "please" finding its way out between strokes.

Cheria sat up, rolled her shoulders, leaned forward. Palms on the sheets on either side of Lauden's torso, she raised her bottom off the mattress, stretching her legs behind her, pushing against the wall with her feet to drag her breasts forward, forward. Lauden thrilled at the feel of the soft flesh moving up her body, lubricated by sweat. She gripped Cheria's nipples in her hands, milk dribbling and squirting between her fingers as she tugged, pulled, helping her lover slowly achieve her desired position.

Breasts hopefully far enough forward, Cheria slid back and down, arms out to her sides, around her chest, her shoulders sinking, her hips brushing Lauden's knees, her own knees rubbing against the headboard, feet swinging freely over her bottom. Her breasts slid and dragged on the bed, and with Lauden's help her nipples were soon squirting into the air instead of the sheets. At last her prize was in reach - Lauden's length glistened and throbbed in the dim golden light. The dark haired Elezen stroked Cheria's areolae in a slow grasping motion, out to in, brushing and squeezing, the nipple rewarding her with a hot squirt of milk splattering against her palm. She saw her own need reflected in Cheria's rapturous, delighted gaze, made contact as her eyes drifted upwards. Needful turquoise pleading for assent from heated hazel. Lauden nodded, smiling and squeezing, her wet hands as great a pleasure as Cheria's treatment of her swollen length. Her hen was ready - more than ready, it felt electrified, vibrant, full of life in a way she'd never felt before.

Cheria leaned down, head snugly in the valley of her cleavage, and caressed Lauden's length with her tongue. Slowly, deliberately, she traced the underside of her pillar, lingering languidly over the tip. She bobbed downwards, coaxing the spongy flesh with her lips and tongue, pressing gently, her hot breath washing over her lover's sensitive, quivering flesh like a warm tide. Lauden moaned loudly, her fingers reflexively digging into Cheria's chest as her hen surged, throbbed. Cheria drew downwards as she grew upwards, her lips coming to rest at her hilt, her flexible tongue cupping her length, rolling up and down it. Given her past experience Lauden expected that to be the general gist of the experience. She yelped in grateful surprise as Cheria moved back up, just as slowly and gently as she had with her fingers, and began to caress the tip of her length with her tongue.

She stayed there, lips grasping her length just below the tip, tongue flicking, licking, gently caressing. Lauden had never felt so good. She had no idea how to express how she felt, no idea what to say, realized distantly that she was moaning loudly, nearly screaming. She wasn't palming Cheria's breasts anymore, she was gripping her nipples, tugging, stroking, aiming them inwards. Hot jets of milk splattered across her breasts, pooled between them, flowed downward around her neck. She twisted her wrists, angling slightly higher, slightly more inward, a heated animal exclamation erupting from deep within her as fluid splattered across her cheeks. Just a little further...

Drops of warm milk landed on her nose, her lips, fell into her yearning mouth. Hot and sweet. Cheria was around her, in her, all over her... she felt herself rising. Cheria felt her building and assumed a shallow stroking motion, her tongue pressing just a bit more firmly into her tip as Lauden began to slowly undulate her hips. Steadily her pace increased. Her hands stroked and pulled harder, eliciting a contented moan from Cheria as she teased her tip with her tongue and her breath and -

Lauden tightened, stiffened, back arching, fingers clenching, a long low guttural moan of relief and ecstasy and adoration filling the room as she slowly completed. Her modest spend pulsed into Cheria's eager mouth, coating her tongue. The satiated Viera took her softening length to the hilt, licking, sucking, swallowing every last bit of spend as she slowly worked her way upwards, releasing her hen with a light brush of her teeth.

Cheria collapsed between Lauden's thighs, her lapine nose brushing the Elezen's spent length. Lauden sighed with amazement and content as tension she didn't realize she'd been carrying flowed out of her. Her grip on Cheria's nipples loosened, her hands sliding down to the soaked sheets, milk pattering against her knuckles.

"How did you... know how to..." Lauden panted, slowly regaining her senses.

"I did for you... what I would like to have done... for me," Cheria sounded exhausted, satisfied. Accomplished. "With a few... small adjustments." Well-earned pride. They made eye contact. She smiled - kindly, almost tiredly. "Would you help me sit up, please? I do hope you're hungry." Her eyes glittered, her smile widening into a grin.

With some effort the two women managed to get Cheria comfortably situated. She sat width-wise on the bed, milk-soaked legs in front of her, back firmly supported by a pillow and the wall. She rolled her shoulders, back cracking and grinding. Lauden sat near the foot of the bed, to Cheria's left, her legs folded under her, hands on her lower calves. Milk continued to drizzle down her breasts, soaking into the sheets.

"There isn't usually this... much," Cheria explained. "I usually empty the bottles in my armor a couple of times a day. I just... didn't have anywhere practical to do maintenance this afternoon." She nodded toward the cuirass. "So the tanks got full, which meant I got full. I was on my way to my room to tend to myself when I saw you and your little puzzle and decided to say hello. And here we are." She beamed brightly, waved her right hand at Lauden. Lauden smiled and waved back with her left.

"Do you..." Lauden had questions.

Cheria held up a finger. Lauden closed her mouth.

"I'll tell you anything you'd like to know. After we've stemmed the tide. Here." She patted her left breast with her left hand. The brief pressure caused a stream of milk to spray outwards, drops landing on Lauden's calf. "You take the left. I'll take the right. It shouldn't take too long, I think most of it's on the floor already."

"Would you like some help... uh.... positioning?" Lauden picked up the other pillow, held it in both hands, waved it in the direction of her right breast. Cheria nodded gratefully, giving her a thumbs up with her left hand, pointing towards the front of her chest with her right. She took hold of her right breast with both hands - the left higher and more awkwardly positioned, the right underneath - as Lauden folded the pillow over onto itself and wedged it between her flesh and the sheets. She gained several ilms of elevation and Lauden gained an accidental squirt of milk up her nose. Both women giggled at the absurdity as Cheria reached for her nipple with both hands, angling it towards her face. She tugged, pulled, squirting streams of warm white fluid into her mouth with practiced hands. She made eye contact with Lauden, pointedly looked down at her left side - ready and waiting. Get to work.

Lauden studied the field, quickly came to a course of action. She mounted the bed, lifting the outsized breast with both hands - it was so heavy! * - simultaneously sliding and folding her legs underneath. She lowered it between her knees, felt the soft warm flesh press into her calves, felt her hen throb as milk dripped onto her legs. She raised the breast and bent down to meet it, licking the leaking nipple with her tongue, savoring the sweet, almost nutty flavor for a moment before she took it into her mouth, wrapping her lips around it. She suckled instinctively, hands pressing into Cheria's chest, thick streams of milk filling her mouth, dribbling down her chin. She swallowed, quickly figuring out what she needed to do - suckling, pressing, kneading swallowing, she coaxed a continual stream of thick creamy fluid down her throat.

Cheria moaned favorably, her legs shifting restlessly on the bed. For some time the women took their fill - Cheria squirting until she'd expressed enough to reach her nipple with her mouth, joining Lauden in suckling, feeding. Lauden was flush, aroused - not the urgency of earlier. Something different. She felt a pleasant warm readiness growing within her. Cheria's nipple, the torrent of milk flowing into her... it was so close to what she craved. She felt her hen stiffen, a bead of slick dripping onto her ankle. She looked up, realized that Cheria seemed to be in a similar place - she was flushed, sweating, moaning quietly. The breast in Lauden's hands shook gently - she could see Cheria's knees wobbling, realized she must be grinding the mattress with her bottom.

The shaking increased as the milk slowly, slowly decreased. Lauden realized it wasn't flowing anymore, she was sucking on Cheria's nipple, trying to pull more milk out of it. She decided to keep going. After a moment Cheria's right breast fell out of her mouth, spent, and she leaned back against the wall, moaning and breathing heavily. Lauden licked the nipple in her mouth, bit down gently. Cheria moaned, hips rising off the bed, eyes closed. She reached out to Lauden with her left hand, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her forward, into her breast. Lauden sucked as hard as she dared, massaging the base of the nipple with her lips as Cheria completed, her lapine ears twitching, relaxing, slumping down over the sides of her head as she slowly relaxed.

"Thank you," she sighed. "Thank you so much. Thank you, Kitten."

"Now," she smiled, "Ask me your questions while you help me change these bedclothes out for a dry set."

Cheria rose to her feet much more easily. Her chest was still wobbly, but it had a less fluid appearance. She fiddled with the belly compartment of her armor, drew out the bottles, offered one to Lauden. "Do you have any room left? It's farm fresh!" She winked.

Lauden took the bottle, sniffed it, sipped it - it was Cheria's milk, all right. Surprisingly cold. "Is it all right if I..." Lauden held the bottle up, pointing towards the coal-fired hearth on the opposite wall.

"Sure." Cheria handed Lauden her bottle. "Warm mine up too. We could use a little time to digest." She eyed Lauden's belly appreciatively. Lauden looked down, realized she was pooching out a good bit more than usual, as if she'd just eaten a heavy meal. She had, in fact, just consumed one. "Good thing my pants are adjustable." She blushed, a little embarrassed.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of." Cheria smiled. "It's thick, it's rich, there's a lot of it and it sticks to you." She slapped her left breast with her left hand, sending a ripple across the great expanse of soft flesh. "They weren't always this big, you know. Keep it up and you might need an adjustable top, too." She grinned, pulling sodden blankets off of the bed as Lauden spluttered.

"Oh, you like that idea?" She yanked off another blanket, eyeing Lauden's hen appreciatively. Lauden felt herself throb, thought back to her conversation with Y'shtola earlier in the day. "It... uh..." She started, stopped, picked up the other end of a blanket Cheria was holding and helped her fold it. "I'm not used to talking about it," she admitted. She laid the soggy blanket on the desk, helped the buxom Viera fold another. "But if it goes to feminine places, I don't think I'd mind."

"Every part of you is feminine, Kitten." Cheria smiled. Lauden blushed. Something in her shifted slightly - the wording of the complement had hit her just right.

The fair-haired woman pulled the thick cases off of the pillows - the milk hadn't penetrated - and added them to the soaked stack of linens. She carried the pile to the front of the room, dropping it on the floor near the music box as her dark-haired lover opened the wardrobe, pulling out clean sheets and blankets. Cheria grabbed fresh pillow cases and tucked the pillows in while Lauden rolled on fresh sheets, then the blankets. Before long they were sitting next to each other on a dry bed, backs against the wall. Cheria's left breast pressed against Lauden's belly, Lauden's right breast brushing the top of it. Their hands found each other in the space between the wall and her flesh, fingers intertwining, squeezing each other with comfort and a growing familiarity.

"Does your back hurt?" Lauden figured that was a good place to start.

"Only when I'm laying on it." Calm, matter of fact.

"What Materia were you melding when you... induced?"

"I was working with Piety and Battledance at the time, and had over-infused. Any of them could have done it. I was sloppy with the melding, really rushing it. I have no idea how you'd replicate my results, even if you wanted to." Lauden blushed. Cheria grinned and squeezed her fingers. "You want to lactate?"

"Maybe not to your extreme," Lauden admitted, "but... " She felt her length stiffen and swell, felt her ears flush. "Yes. I do. If I ever figure out how to induce, I'll probably do it."

"Well if you do figure it out, let me know. I'd be happy to return the favor." A playful squeeze of her hand, her eyes shining, honest. She licked her lips.

"I'll hold you to that." Lauden grinned. "How much support does your armor provide? How often do you have to empty the tanks?"

"The armor holds things together well. It's rigid enough to keep me from accidentally falling over if I turn too quickly, yet flexible enough that I can wear it all day without issue. I usually fill the tanks once day, then maybe half again - so... three bottles a day. I'm not sure what it is - the cold, maybe - but since I came to Ishgard it's increased to five."

"Maybe it's Gibrillont's stew." Lauden wondered.

Cheria thought about it, nodded. "Maybe. That or all the hot chocolate."

"You said you weren't always this big. How big were you when you... started?"

Cheria cupped her hands about half a fulm out from her clavicle. Generous by Eorzean standards; a fraction of her current size.

Lauden whistled in awe. "All that growth from..."

"...refusing to let my milk go to waste." She made eye contact, held it, lips curling slightly upwards. "What would you do if it... goes where you want it to?"

"I'd want to see more of you." No hesitation, no time to think it over. "A lot more of you." Lauden smiled.

"Ah, you say that now! Yet we haven't gotten to the real reason I invited you up here yet!" Cheria slapped her chest with her free hand. She lurched forward, ilming towards the edge of the bed to stand up. Lauden rose to her feet and offered her hands, leaning back to help her to her feet.

"I confessed a need for a length in my mouth." Lauden prompted her.

"And I said that I thought we might be able to help each other," Cheria remembered. She stretched. Lauden admired the interplay of her thick, well-defined back muscles, finally realizing that her hips, rump, and thighs were colossal by average standards. They seemed smaller earlier as they were weren't quite proportionate to her chest. "Between what Stephanivien told me about your abilities as a Machinist and your interest in Allagan artifacts, I think... well..."

With her back to Lauden she reached under her breasts, loosened her leggings, slowly lowered them. It wasn't quite sexual, but the motion was still... inviting. She let the cloth drop away from her thighs and carefully stepped out of them, naked as the Warrior of Light.

Well, almost as naked. She turned slowly, hands atop her breasts, spreading them apart as she faced the dark-haired Elezen, revealing a small length contained in a -

"Is that a chastity cage?!" Lauden had never seen one in use before, and was more surprised by the device than its contents. The contents were still quite a surprise, though - her eyes widened. She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. She felt blood flow into her face and breasts and hen, felt like she might faint. That was - she had - she was....

No wonder she knew how to touch her.

Lauden sunk to her knees, eyes wide, mouth agape. After a moment she started blinking and breathing again. She pounded her chest and coughed, hoping her heart was still pumping.

Cheria smiled shyly at Lauden's reaction.

"It's an Allagan chastity cage, Kitten. If you can unlock it for me I will do my best to sate your need."

"Nophica's tits," Lauden whispered, realizing the matron deity's endowments couldn't possibly compare to Cheria's.

"Well if they are hers she has yet to come looking for them." Cheria smiled and stepped forward, brushing Lauden's ears with her breasts. She reached down between her cleavage and ran her fingers through the Elezen's dark hair, the way one might soothe a child. Lauden had an eyeful of the cage, of her small length - smaller than hers! - and Cheria respectfully held her distance. Her gesture was intended to comfort, not as a sexual advance.

Multiple thick silvered loops etched with tiny dark coppery glyphs. attached to a small round strut that connected the front and the back. The strut had a tiny hole in it. No seams, no other visible details. The tip was a bowl-shaped mesh, the same thickness as the loops along the length.

"Fascinating." Lauden observed. "Please, tell me about it."

Cheria eased herself onto the bed again, this time at the head, legs folded under her, breasts resting on her thighs, arms on her breasts. The cage glittered in the lamplight. Lauden sat at the foot of the bed, just far enough away to see all of her.

"I was a trap disarming specialist for one of the Sons of Saint Coinach expeditions into the Crystal Tower," Cheria began. "We'd made it to one of the upper floors, rooms Amon used as his private chambers. There was an.... array." She measured out a large grid in the air, talking with her hands. Lauden approved. "Containers, devices of some sort - like your cube, but larger and with fewer faces, and they all had what seemed to be keyholes of some sort - that's what Noah said, anyway." She took a breath. "There were several dozen of these containers. Some seemed dark, lifeless, devoid of aether. Some were cracked and dented, like they'd been thrown or stomped on. Some of them had their keys stuck in them. Some of them seemed new, healthy. I was curious - really curious. I touched one of them."

Cheria resettled herself on the bed, unfolding her legs, brushing Lauden's shins with her toes. Lauden took her feet in her hands and began to rub them, enjoying the feel of her toes beneath her fingers, the bulk of her attention still focused on Cheria's story.

"It... whirred to life and flew up in the air. Almost took my fingers off. It opened - unfolded, like a papercraft, and as it did so I was paralyzed and pulled into the air. My clothing was stripped away - that got Noah's attention - and this little cage flew out of the box and attached itself to me. The box fell to the floor, devoid of aether, and I... have been locked up ever since." She smiled weakly.

"There's a key, of sorts. Noah found it in the box, I have it with me, in my saddlebag. It allows for precise control of aether, but the amount of mana, the amount of aether required... Noah knew what to do but Koh didn't have the mana to do it."

"You might." Cheria's smile was small, hopeful. Her eyes soft, pleading. "I can't. The way it's built, the way it's aether-locked... it has to be opened by someone else. You're a Warrior of Light. You have more aether, more mana, than the average Eorzean. Maybe enough. Will you try for me, Kitten?"

"Of course." Lauden smile was kind, her eyes ravenous. "But first..." She stood up. "Which bag is the key in?" Cheria pointed to the saddlebag on the desk; Lauden picked it up and handed to her. As Cheria rummaged about Lauden fetched the warmed bottles of milk from the hearth. She took a deep pull from one of them, drinking as much as she could in one breath. She paused, took another long drink, paused for air, looked down to see Cheria grinning up at her. "Good girl. Eager to see where it goes, Kitten?"

Lauden flushed, felt her hen swell, felt no need to hide it or downplay it. She took another drink, sucking down the sweet warm milk like she hoped to suck on Cheria's length, her belly swelling visibly as it filled. Tea, stew, cocoa, multiple pints of milk - she'd imbibed a lot this evening, and it was showing. Lauden drained the bottle, licked the rim, placed it on the desk near Cheria's armor. She handed the second bottle to the busty Viera, who held up a hand, declining. "Drink it, Kitten. If you have room."

"I think I ran out of room awhile ago," Lauden observed. "Maybe a few sips, after I get this thing off of you." She nodded towards the cage. Cheria rotated her wrist, beckoning for the bottle. She took it, took a sip, set it on the edge of the desk. "If you want it warm, now's the time - the bottles are enchanted with ice shards so the contents keep longer. It'll cool back down in a few minutes." Lauden raised her eyebrows, took one last sip. She patted her full belly, imagined she heard it slosh. "That is definitely it for me." She even sounded full.

"For now, Kitten." Cheria winked and nodded to the blanket in front of her.

Cheria folded her legs back under herself; Lauden sat similarly in the middle of the bed, their knees brushing. She squinted at the small object her lover held in her palm in front of her - a small thin metallic rod with a smaller thicker cobalt-blue base. The thicker part had a hole in it, a metal ring threaded through the hole. A simplified clay figurine of the Gold Saucer Sabotender was attached to the key ring.

"Cute." Lauden smiled. She took the key in her hands and squinted at it, looking it over carefully.

The key had a certain ineffable weight to it, as if it were larger, heavier, elsewhere. That aura of heaviness was accompanied by a dim ultraviolet shimmer, like an after-image. It was a focus, all right - a heavy duty one by modern standards. She closed her eyes and felt it, slipping into the mental framework she thought of as 'professional.' She sensed a complex mesh of interlocking planes, had the distinct impression that someone had sneezed on a house of cards, freezing the deck at the moment of impact. She turned her attention to the cage, saw a very similar mesh, perhaps the same mesh. Hmm.

She turned the key in her hand, angled the thick end down, the thin end up - how it would align if she were caged - unsurprised as her sense of the mesh slipped away. So that was the trick.

"Without proceeding further..." Lauden mused, holding the key in one hand, poking the Sabotender figurine with a finger of the other, "... It looks like this -" she wagged the key "- fits in there -" at the strut atop the cage "- and has to be aligned with a very high degree of precision. Horological precision." More precise than that, probably, though she lacked the relevant language. "If that was all there was to it then we wouldn't be here, so... I line it up and flow into it until it opens or I'm exhausted, it seems?"

Flow wasn't a commonly used term for the projection of magickal energy. Fortunately, Cheria grasped Lauden's meaning through syntax. "That's the gist of what Noah said, yes. Koh didn't have enough, or possibly couldn't hold the key steady enough. Maybe both."

"I..." Lauden held the key up, sensing the mesh, seeing traces, corners, as faint, quickly fading after-images. "....am not Koh."

"That's true. You're prettier than she is." Cheria smiled and winked. She leaned back, shoulders against the wall. She scooted her bottom forward a bit, canting her pelvis upwards. Displaying herself. "Care to give it a try?"

"Give me a moment. My arousal is distorting my ability to focus sharply, at least in this context." She wagged the key for emphasis. She'd tried to look exclusively at the problem, but even her own technical interest had its limits. The very thing she'd been fantasizing about for moons was right. There.

She took a deep breath. Another. Closed her eyes. Guided herself into a meditative state. She was acutely aware of her full belly, her engorged hen, her eagerness. She willed those things into distance, dullness, felt them fade, felt calm - a semblance of how she felt in the presence of the Mothercrystal.

She opened her eyes, shifted the key so that she was holding it between the thumb and index finger of her right hand, and carefully inserted it into the keyhole. She turned it slowly, this way and that, getting a sense of the aetherial mesh of the cage, of the key. Getting a sense that clockwise was the way to go. A dramatic twist brought the projections closely together, but not... quite. Lauden noticed that as she slowly rotated the key into what should have been its place the mesh projecting from the cage shifted, rotated, kept ahead of the key mesh as if repelled by it.

Hm.

She flowed into the key, willing it to close the gap, to line up, but the mesh rotated away faster.

Hmmm.

She stopped rotating, kept flowing. The cage mesh continued to rotate, slowly. She willed more of her aether into the key, into the cage, sensed it picking up speed. On a hunch she twisted the key counter-clockwise, felt it slow, yield, sensed the cage projection pass through, with some resistance. She increased her flow, feeling her fingers begin to tremble from the exertion of holding the key so precisely. Twisting into the incoming mesh again - this time much slower, molasses-like. Almost.

Lauden too a deep breath, closed her eyes, brought her entire self to bear on the aetheric mechanism. The cage mesh spun around and around, picking up speed. She twisted the key into the oncoming mesh again, met heavy resistance again, yet still it spun. What was she missing?

She thought for a moment, realized she was depleting, had maybe one more attempt in her before she needed to rest.

Match the speed.

The thought appeared in her head, unbidden.

It seemed like a good idea. She moderated her flow, got a clear sense of the speed of rotation of the aetherial mesh, and twisted the key counter-clockwise into it at the same speed it was rotating clockwise.

The meshes met, and stuck. The key froze in place. She projected a surge of aether into the key, willed it to pass into the lock.

With a rapid series of clacks, the loops of the cage swung open. She felt the aether around the device shift and expand, the aetheric mesh dissipating. She sat back and stared at her prize. Cheria's length seemed to wake from hibernation, expanding beyond the former confines of the cage. Just a little - it seemed to be a lot like hers.

They both looked at the cage for a long moment. Eyes turned upward, made contact.

"Be a dear and hand that to me, Kitten." Cheria held her right hand out, palm up, between her breasts, fingers facing Lauden. Her eyes were hungry, her smile commanding.

Lauden gingerly took the basket of the cage between thumb and forefinger and pulled, sliding it out from beneath Cheria's length. As she placed the device in the Viera's palm she got the strong sense that it was somehow... biding its time? Weird.

Cheria slid the key out and placed the two pieces of the device in the saddlebag sitting at the edge of the desk. Lauden had imagined she would have thrown it out the window, realized that her relationship with the device might be significantly more complex than what she'd been told. Cheria turned her attention back to her, lips curled and eyes glinting in a complex, heated, ready expression.

"Tell me what you'd like to do, Kitten."

A bead of slick at the tip of her length glistened in the dim golden lamplight. Lauden licked her lips.

Her eyes lost focus, her mouth worked silently for a moment.

"I... don't know. This is my first time near one that I want to touch."

Silence, for a long moment.

"I hadn't thought past figuring out what the need was, honestly," Lauden realized, "It... uh... I..." She hung her head, searched for words, placed her fingers on her temples, dragged her hands and ears backwards through her hair. As her ears sprung back into place she sat up straight, face to face with Cheria, hands atop her ankles.

"My past experience was as a victim of aggression," she said slowly, "I've never touched... or tasted... because I've wanted to before." I don't know what to do next.

"Do you want to touch me?" Cheria's voice was quiet, compassionate.

"Yes." Lauden nodded, her eyes tearing. She pressed her hands together under her nose.

"Do you want to taste me?"

"Yes. Oh gods yes." Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I'd like you to touch me, Kitten. I'd like you to taste me." Cheria nodded warmly, invitingly, directing Lauden's attention downward. The bead of slick had grown, spread. "Please?"

Lauden's eyes widened. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Let your instincts guide you, Kitten. What would you like to do?"

"May I... show you?" Lauden could feel what she wanted to do but wasn't comfortable saying it out loud. Not yet, anyway.

"You may show me, Kitten." Cheria grinned. "Help me get a little more comfortable first?"

Cheria pushed herself forward a bit. As they fluffed and bunched the pillows, Lauden realized they were building support for the Viera's back, allowing her to be positioned at an angle more favorable for oral engagement. She wants me to be comfortable too! She grabbed a third pillow from the wardrobe and placed it sideways behind the her shoulders. It rose high enough to give her head some support as well - a fact that she was quietly grateful for. She settled in, adjusting her breasts, spreading them out a bit further so that she could roll her thighs apart comfortably, making room for Lauden.

"Will it bother you if I play with your hair and ears?" Given your history?

"No," Lauden stepped up over Cheria's right leg, briefly stood on the bed between her calves before sinking to her knees, her hand held to the wall for support. "It's... smell. That bothers me. And that's not a problem here." A weak, uncertain smile. She sat with her hands on her knees, between Cheria's calves. Her fingers flexed nervously. "I... uh." She laughed. A short, nervous bark. "Hi. Hello. I'm nervous." She really was.

"Hi nervous, I'm Cheria."

The tension popped like a soap bubble.

Lauden smirked, giggled, smiled. She leaned forward, her hands on Cheria's thighs. She kissed her lightly on her nose, then long, longingly, lovingly on her mouth. Cheria returned the affection, tongue flicking against her lips, teeth, tongue, as she combed her hands through Lauden's hair. She gave the matronly Elezen's ears a gentle tug as she broke away, continuing downward, kissing her lover's chin, her neck, the hollow between her collarbones. The supine woman undulated beneath her as she descended, moaning gently, hands combing and fisting her hair as she kissed her way down, down. Cheria gasped as she dipped her tongue into her navel. Lauden stopped, worried, only to be guided back by the firm press of her hands against her ears. She resumed, taking her time, thrilling as her attention was rewarded with a long, low moan. Tongue out, she drew a trail from her navel to her mons, brushing her nose over her small thatch of pale lavender-scented fuzz before finally pulling back, gazing at the stiffer, longer, and very slick pillar beneath her.

Cheria's length had blossomed. It had grown longer and thicker than her own - small for an Elezen, about average for a Hyur, from what she'd read. It was slick, stiff, curved upwards slightly - almost invitingly. She felt her hen pulse, her nipples stiffen. Her mouth watered in anticipation.

Don't overthink it.

Lauden slid her hands between Cheria's breasts and thighs, electrified by the sensation of soft flesh pressing against her forearms. She felt her lover's fingers combing through her hair, the sides of her palms grazing her ears, felt gentle, tentative pressure guiding her downwards. That gentleness was just what she needed - the first light of dawn ending the night she had suffered decades past.

She closed her eyes and took Cheria into her mouth.

Warm. Firm, yet soft - especially the tip. Slightly salty. Quite slick - that slickness immediately lost in saliva as her mouth joyously greeted Cheria's length. A subtle exotic bouquet she couldn't place, not that she was paying attention to her nose any more. Her lips tightened, loosened, exploring for purchase that felt right and, she quickly learned, sounded right - Cheria gave enthusiastic direction in the form of low moans and controlled breathing. Hissing as Lauden accidentally engaged her teeth - just a little, fortunately! - then moaning as she undulated her tongue, cupping and rolling against her tip.

She brushed and rubbed Cheria's tip against the top of her mouth, the back of her throat, searching for what felt best in a whole range of sensations that felt amazing. She gave sucking a try, realized she might need to practice, realized she was overthinking it and willed herself to let go. She felt Cheria throb inside her, heard her moan - it sounded like her name - as she let instinct guide her into a bobbing motion.

This was good. She was enjoying this. Curious, she took Cheria to the hilt, chin brushing against her stones, enjoyed the feel of her at the back of her throat but felt this wasn't quite what she wanted. She backed up slowly, using her lips to slowly ilm her way up Cheria's length - she liked that, big moan there - and... yes. There it was. A slight change to her angle and the tip was brushing the back of her soft palette and it. Felt. Amazing. For both of them - a much louder moan, heavier breathing, her lover's body writhing beneath her.

Lauden shifted her balance towards her legs and moved her hands upwards. She brushed the tips of her fingers across Cheria's breasts, then pressed her palms into them. Her flesh was smooth, supple, soft. She rubbed the amazing expanse of skin in slow circular motions, outwards, backwards - her tits were huge! - while bobbing at a slowly increasing speed. Her fingers met smooth areolae - Cheria groaned. Firm nipple - Cheria gasped. She walked her fingers over her nipples and began to pinch and tug, curling her tongue around her length, snorting, air rustling Cheria's thatch as her lover wrapped her legs around her torso and squeezed, nearly forcing her breath out of her.

She felt Cheria's hands fist her hair, heard her moan, felt her guide her down, forward - not her favorite angle but oh the noises she made! She was rolling her pelvis, striving upwards, into her, into her, climbing, throbbing inside her hot wet mouth, and -

The Warrior of Light nearly choked with surprise as dollops of hot spend flowed into her mouth. It was sweet - a hint of almonds, a fainter hint of chocolate - and the sensation of it sliding down her throat made every ilm of her feel alive. She wanted more, began sucking on Cheria's length like it was a teat, trying to draw more out of it. Her lover groaned, her tone almost desperate - she was overstimulated, done for now, and no matter how much more Lauden wanted she'd have to wait for her to recover to taste her again.

Cheria slid out of her mouth as she leaned back, a long thin rope of their commingled juices briefly connecting them. She gave the Viera's thick nipples a playful pinch as she sat up, sat back. Eyes closed, she wiped her mouth, licked a tiny drop of spend off of the back of her hand, and sighed contentedly.

"How do you feel, Kitten?" Cheria was breathing heavily, evenly, her voice silky and satiated.

"Fulfilled." Lauden sat, hands folded loosely between her knees, head upturned, rocking gently back and forth, back and forth. That had, in fact, felt better than she'd ever imagined it would. A craving that had felt like it had infected her bones had, at long last, been sated.

"Thank you." She didn't know what else to say. "Thank you."

A long moment passed. Her rocking motion gradually slowed, stopped. She opened her eyes, turned her attention to Cheria. Arms behind her breasts, ears relaxed, she looked very, very happy.

"It is I who should be thanking you." Coy, grateful. "I'd never have guessed it was your first time if you hadn't told me. You're a natural. Now kiss me, Kitten."

Lauden bent down, bracing her hands on the wall on either side of her head, kissing her, biting her lower lip gently, tongue flicking against her teeth. As Cheria wrapped her arms around her shoulders she felt her strength give out, felt herself collapse slowly into her lover's embrace, their lengths brushing against one another as she sobbed with gratitude.

Cheria rubbed her back and stroked her hair. Soothing, compassionate, kind. But above all, tired. She yawned, long and loud, Lauden clenching her jaw to keep from following along behind her.

"Would you like to sleep with me, Kitten?" She sounded like she was drifting off, or about to.

"Yes, please." Lauden sniffled, drew an uneven breath. "I should... uh... we should get a little more comfortable, huh?" She awkwardly peeled herself off of Cheria and rolled out of the bed, stifling a yawn in the process.

With a little effort - most of it Lauden's - they rolled the blankets down. Cheria repositioned the pillows, taking them for herself as she rolled out from under her left breast, her back to the wall. She glanced up, noted the confusion on Lauden's face, and patted her right breast. "This is your pillow tonight, Kitten. And this -" she patted her left "- is your blanket. Part of it, anyway." She smiled, a curl to her lips that Lauden couldn't decipher. "You're mine tonight, Kitten. Get comfortable."

There was a little more positioning work. Cheria got the pillows properly doubled up, then Lauden held her left breast up while she pushed and pulled her right higher, almost even with her face. She breathed a "hmm?" as Lauden looked over the arrangement, confusion contorting her brow.

"Won't your right arm go numb? Won't you get uncomfortable? What if you need to change position? What if your top boob suffocates me in my sleep?" The left side of her mouth quirked upwards, trying for a smile. Unfortunately she was too tired and too concerned to pull one off.

"I'll be fine. I sleep in this position or one like it all the time. I should be able to do that and cuddle you comfortably. If it doesn't work out we'll try something else. And if my boob suffocates you I promise you that I will be very sad about it." She held up her upper breast, motioned with her head - get down here.

Lauden sat down on the bed. She took hold of the blankets and lay back, drawing them up to their thighs. She settled in, her head, neck, shoulders, and upper back sinking into Cheria's soft, soft flesh. She rubbed Cheria's right thigh with her left hand as the buxom Viera positioned her left breast over Lauden's trunk and slowly lowered it.

Cheria's body engulfed her like a weighted blanket - heavy, warm, comforting. She'd been worried about her breathing but seemed to be fine - in fact if anything she was far more comfortable than she'd imagined she would be. She felt the blankets rustle as Cheria drew them up and over, down to their necks, felt her left knee seek comfort between her thighs, felt her toes caressing her calves. Felt herself relax, felt satisfied. Felt herself freed of a terrible longing that she'd been holding inside herself for what seemed like her entire life.

Lauden felt Cheria's lips brush her left cheek, felt the fingers of her left hand gently stroke her neck, just below her right ear. Heard her whisper thank you faintly as she drifted to sleep, almost whole, almost complete, and entirely satisfied.

Chapter Text

The jungle was stifling. Hot, wet, dark. Liquid green. Ferns and vines and brush and trees and whatever else lashed and tugged at her body as she struggled forward, uphill, pressing against the immense weight of fertile rainforest. Grudgingly, almost unwillingly, it yielded, allowed her forward. Every step a struggle, the thick greenery closing behind her as she moved, the world a great floral womb pressing down on her.

The foliage stopped suddenly. She found herself ankle deep, knee deep in a narrow slow-moving river of milk. She sank to her hands and knees, sinking quickly into thick, silty mud. She plunged her face into the river and began to drink. Sweet, hot, thick, the milk flowed into her. She couldn't stop. She didn't want to. She drank greedily, like her life depended on it. She felt her body begin to swell, her belly bloating, swelling, descending into the milk. She drank like she'd never get another chance, drank until her belly pressed into the mud, drank until her breasts grew downward into the thick sticky riverbed.

The thick slow-moving river became an ocean, the mud dropping away beneath her as she struggled for air, her heavy, milk-thickened body dragging her down, undertow pulling at her, yanking at her. The sky was angry, storming, a torrential downpour of milk drenching her face as she struggled to stay afloat. A heavy white wave out of nowhere and she was tumbling, rolling, and suddenly awake. On the floor.

Lauden sat up and looked up, toward the bed. How had...?

Disbelief. Cheria was suspended in the air - air throbbing with aether, an near-ultraviolet pulse tinting the gray light of early dawn. Her feet were ilms above the mattress, her arms and breasts splayed outwards, her long lapine ears almost brushing the ceiling. Her eyes fluttered, half asleep, widened, fully awake. Alarmed.

The Allagan chastity cage hung in the air between them. It hummed, twisted, clacked open... and in a flash, it had attached itself to Cheria's length. The bed creaked alarmingly as she fell onto it, collapsing backwards against the wall as the aether in the room quickly faded back to normal.

The women stared at each other for a long moment, shocked.

"It's okay, it's fine." Cheria's voice was sheepish, almost embarrassed. "I think I missed it. I feel... less exposed now." She folded her legs, breasts on either side of her thighs, and pulled a blanket over her chest, up to her shoulders. She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes.

A moment later she was snoring gently.

Lauden shook her head rapidly, almost spastically, blinked several times. She was still awake, Cheria was still freshly caged, had just accepted it and gone back to sleep and it was too early in the morning for that to make any sense to her.

Maybe she was still dreaming.

She pinched one ear, the other, the skin of both forearms. Just to be sure.

Still awake.

Awake and heavy. Her full belly pressed on her bladder, felt like it pressed on everything else, too. I wonder if this is what being - she slapped the thought away before it could finish. She looked down at her protruding stomach, rubbed it tentatively with her hands. Soft. Full. She slowly got to her feet, surprised she didn't hear sloshing as she made her way to the bathroom.

Lauden felt like she'd been peeing forever by the time her stream finally faltered and stuttered to a halt. She wiped down, stood, flushed, relieved to find that she no longer felt like she was about to burst. She still felt a bit heavy, though fortunately not as much. She washed her face, examined what she could see of her body in the long mirror above the sink. Her belly was still pooched out a bit - she wondered how much of that was dinner continuing to digest, how much of it was here to stay. She turned, gazed at her profile, her shape slightly maternal. She flushed, her hen and nipples stiffening. Whatever she thought about it, it was clear how she felt about it.

Maybe that was worth focusing on.

She wondered just how fattening Cheria's milk was.

The divinely endowed Viera was still snoozing on the bed. Her legs had straightened out; Lauden tugged the blanket so that it covered her feet. Her remaining bottle of milk was where she'd left it - on the desk near the head of the bed. Still chilled, still mostly full. Lauden gave it a sniff and a tentative sip. It seemed fine.

The Warrior of Light stood naked in front of the window, drinking her lover's milk from the enchantment-chilled bottle in slow sips as she watched the sun rise over Ishgard.

The light pouring into the room had brightened and warmed considerably by the time she'd emptied the vessel. She placed it on the desk and sat on the bed, covering herself in a blanket from the floor as she curled up against Cheria's left breast and lay her head in her lap.

She awoke to the sensation of fingers brushing her right ear, opened her eyes - blankets. Turned upwards - Cheria. Awake. Smiling. The kindest, gentlest smile she'd ever seen. She smiled back, purred, rolled her head on her lover's lap, ear brushing fingers as they tried to keep up with her.

"Good morning." Lauden sat up, combed her hands through her hair, smiled, made eye contact. "Care to tell me what happened with the cage?"

"Phbbbt." Cheria blew air through her lips, shrugging comically, palms held upward. "Noah said nothing would have happened if I hadn't had some sort of affinity for what was in the box. Despite having no idea what was in it, I did feel drawn to it. And I did feel very... exposed without it."

"I don't understand." Lauden really didn't. She'd done a good amount of work to figure out the nature of her own kinks and felt she had a good grasp of them, but had yet to get her head around anything involving hardware.

"I don't expect you to, Kitten. You may, in time." She paused. "I hope." Her eyes were expectant, longing. "Now, to other business!" She slapped her breasts, milk stains blossoming beneath the blanket. "Would you care to join me for breakfast?"

Lauden swept off the bedclothes and heeded Cheria's direction, taking the firm dribbling nipple of the Viera's right breast into her mouth with eager lips.

The Warrior of Light belched quietly as she disengaged from Cheria's freshly expressed teat. She blushed and covered her mouth, brows raised, more from shock than embarrassment. There had been less milk than the night before, but it was no less sweet, no less filling - her belly felt heavy again. Content.

Cheria finished up, her left nipple sliding out of her mouth with a quiet pop as she sat back. "I see my milk agrees with you," she giggled, poking Lauden's belly playfully with the toes of her left foot.

"I really like the taste of it," Lauden admitted. "And what you said last night, it, uh..."

Cheria grinned, her eyes glittering. "You like the idea of me fattening you up, don't you? I mean you really, really like it." She giggled as Lauden flushed scarlet - her blush washing down her neck and out to the ends of her ears as the tip of her hen grazed the bottom of her tummy.

Lauden felt her hen throb, felt it dab the underside of her belly with slick. "I... uh... well..." she stammered, stilled, took a breath, closed her eyes. "How I feel about the idea is... wild, erotic, almost animal enthusiasm. What I think about it is.... complicated."

"Awww," Cheria eyed her with a mixture of pity and arousal, "Worried you'll get so big that you'll have trouble adventuring?"

"Something like that," Lauden nodded, embarrassment still tinting her ears.

"How's this," Cheria proposed, "One day, when our lives are a little less interesting, we'll hole up somewhere nice and quiet and we'll see just how big you can get." She winked, delighting as Lauden squirmed, her hen fully engaged and twitching with excitement.

Lauden felt like steam was venting out of her ears. "I... uh... er..."

"You like the idea. You can't hide it." Cheria nodded downward. "And you shouldn't have to. Come here, Kitten." She spread her legs apart, pointed at the space between them. Lauden scooted over, swinging her legs over Cheria's thighs, her lower legs pressing deep into the soft warm flesh of her breasts.

"Closer." Cheria beckoned with an index finger.

Lauden leaned back, hands on the bed for support, and eased her pelvis forward. Her hen glistened in the morning light, her slick tip glittering almost as brightly as the metal of Cheria's cage. She gasped as the buxom Viera spit in her left hand and wrapped her fingers around her length, squeezing slowly and gently as she rubbed the tip with her thumb.

"You like this?" Calm, professional.

Lauden nodded, purring contentedly.

"Indulge me. What turns you on? Is the milk part of it?"

"Mm-hmm," Lauden rocked her hips against Cheria's hand. Cheria deftly kept position.

"Getting fat is a bigger part of it, though. Gaining weight, expanding."

"Yesss..." Lauden hissed, her length throbbing beneath Cheria's fingers.

"But it's really the act of me making you bigger and bigger that gets you, isn't it?"

Lauden writhed, her length pulsing, straining, slick and spit covering Cheria's thumb, drizzling over her fingers. She began to pump, squeezing her fingers with every upward stroke, loosening them slightly with every draw downwards. "Yes... yes....."

"Me, shoving my tits in your mouth, pumping you full - fuller and fuller until you're so big you can't move?" She sped up, the touch of her thumb becoming gentler, almost tickling as her fingers continues to squeeze, her hand continued to stroke.

"Oh.... YES." Lauden threw her head back and moaned as she writhed. She ground herself into her lover's embrace, her breathing growing heavier, rougher.

Cheria quickened, felt Lauden readying beneath her, slowed abruptly. "You." Pump. "Want." Stroke. "Me." Squeeze. "To do this." Pump. "To you." Stroke. "Don't you?" Squeeze, tugging upward, squeezing harder, one finger at a time, bottom to top.

"YES!" Lauden shuddered, screamed, her spend flowing down the back of Cheria's hand. She collapsed backwards onto the bed, her head and over the side, briefly gone from view.

"Good Kitten. I'd be more than happy to fatten you up." Cheria grinned and licked her hand clean. Cat-like, deliberate, her eyes locked on Lauden's as she slowly sat back up. Her voice teasing, her expression earnest. "But not today. I need to get to the Manufactory before the sun rises much higher. I have obligations; I suspect that you do as well. Toss me my pants?"

Lauden untangled herself from Cheria and did as she was asked, tossing Cheria her leggings and then poking about on the floor with a foot, looking for her smalls. She felt dizzy, light headed. What had she just agreed to? Why was she so excited? Why was she so scared?

The two women dressed in silence, each encountering their own difficulties. Cheria had what she professed was her usual trouble with her boots, and fortunately - for Lauden, anyway - was busy loading bottles into her cuirass and maneuvering herself into it while the Warrior of Light struggled - first with pants that had to be loosened a bit to fit, then with a top that wasn't interested in cooperating. She sighed, leaving the bottom two buttons undone, a pie-shaped wedge of belly clearly visible, her shirt tails hanging over her belt.

"I'd like you to have something," Cheria rustled about in her saddlebag. She turned on her heel - her motion firm, steady, graceful, now that her chest was supported again. She held a small oyster-shaped box in her hands, opened it, presenting Lauden with a tiny pink pearl. Lauden took it, rolled it between thumb and forefinger, squinted at it.

"It's a linkpearl. I'd like to see you again soon. My business in Ishgard will occupy me for a few more days, but after that, I'm wide open. So to speak." She smiled hopefully, holding up a second pink linkpearl, this one mounted to an earring. She placed the container back in her bag and slid the earring into a small pierced hole on her left ear - one Lauden hadn't noticed before.

Lauden followed suit, tucking the linkpearl into the place she typically kept hers. She felt the enchantment hold it in place, felt it aetherially connect. "Have you been to Mor Dhona?"

"I'll tell you the place, Kitten. Between then and now.... buy some bigger clothes." Cheria grinned lasciviously as she slung her saddlebag over her shoulder. "Now, let's get out of here and let housekeeping work out how to clean a milk-stained room."

Lauden shrugged into her jacket - it buttoned, barely - and followed Cheria out the door.

Chapter Text

Lauden walked Cheria to the Skysteel Manufactory - Stephanivien was surprised to see the two of them together; absolutely scandalized by the sight of them kissing goodbye - then set off on a walk around Ishgard. It was still early morning, still bitter cold, still... she had a lot to process. She didn't want to go back to the Forgotten Knight, she didn't want to check in on Y'shtola just yet. Aymeric... had become a significantly lower priority over the course of the night. Not that she wouldn't mind, but things had changed. She was no longer thirsting for length as an abstract, length as a concept - she found that she wanted to taste Cheria's again. The sooner, the better.

Chocolate. She tasted like chocolate. How was that possible?

She walked, her mind swirling, the tenuous link between thought and feeling screaming at her to get help, to talk to somebody unbiased about her conflict, at least in abstract. Thinking about it in a vacuum didn't seem to do her much good.

Don't overthink it.

Easier said than done. Lauden tried, and, after some time, succeeded. She gave her mind to the cold, let the frigid air strip away her worry, her deep excitement and satisfaction keeping her warm as she wandered about aimlessly.

Eventually she found herself in Empyreum, near midday. There were few residents about. Swarms of Disciples of the Hand buzzed around, at work in various stages of construction, fitting out, finishing. In daylight, now that she had the time and clarity to pay attention, Lauden finally noticed that the district was only partially completed. Foundations were still being laid, walls were still being erected. Aymeric's duplex was one of the few inhabited buildings.

Inhabited and smelling of food, she realized - the aroma of something spicy hung faintly in the air, commingling with the faint scent of Y'shtola. The smell of cooking grew stronger as she neared the house; the smell of Miqo'te remained indistinct. Curious.

The building looked as it had yesterday; the only difference was the upstairs window was open fully - airing the place out, she reasoned - and there was a bit of smoke drifting from the chimney. She stood for a moment, eyeing the place from what felt like a safe distance, wishing she had Y'shtola's talent for Aethersight. All she could see when she put her mind to it was the baseline glow of the yard, the dark after-image of the stones, faint sparkles from the chimney... and the impression of calm emanating languidly from inside.

That was encouraging.

She felt about in her snugly fitting utility belt for the key - wondered if Cheria would let her use hers again - found it, checked it over. Still a solid finger of cool Ishgardian steel. She slid it into the lock and turned, the mechanism rolling over smoothly with a quiet clack.

Oh, right. Manners.

She knocked on the door. After a moment, muffled, feminine speech - close enough to come in to register as an invite.

She opened the door and stepped inside, leaving Ishgard behind her for a time.

"Hello?" The first thing she noticed was the cloak rack - her dark cloak was right where she'd left it. T'zuki's rumpled white cloak hung next to it. Y'shtola's was missing. Curious. "Y'shtola?"

"Good morning, Lauden! You're just in time for lunch!" Y'shtola was clean, neatly coiffed, an apron - where had that come from? - tied over a fresh tunic. She looked... at ease. Relaxed. Lauden realized she hadn't seen her this calm in weeks. She was focused, too - moving gracefully around the kitchen without incident. She could focus her Aethersight again!

"It smells amazing." It truly did - complex seasoning over meat and some other smell she couldn't place. "What are you making?" She noticed the clothes Y'shtola had packed for her neatly folded on the steps, took off her jacket and sat down to change out of her boots and into socks.

"Meat pies, with diced peppers and popotos and scrambled eggs to round out the filling. T'zuki left after breakfast and I found myself at loose ends, so I... busied myself. Cooking, for a change. I thought I'd make something you might like that would taste good warm or cold." Lauden could hear the smile in her voice, the ease beneath. Realized she felt at least somewhat similarly following her night with Cheria.

"So you got his name, then." Lauden left her Machinists leathers and too-tight top on and entered the kitchenette, her hazel eyes making contact with focused silver that saw her completely, clearly.

"And so much more. So much more." Y'shtola sighed contentedly. "It looks like you enjoyed yourself last night as well." She turned away from the stove, giving Lauden a playful poke and a long, loving caress of her belly as she stepped close, resting her head on her Warrior of Light's chest. They embraced each other, rocking slightly, gently, enjoying the warmth of the kitchen and of each other.

"You seem... fuller, somehow. Not just your belly -" Y'shtola slid her hands up under Lauden's untucked shirttails and rubbed her gently, thumbs caressing her navel "- but your aether, as well. I can still see some conflict within you but it's... not emotional. You... found what you needed, didn't you?" She smiled up at Lauden, then buried her face between the taller woman's breasts, purring quietly. Lauden combed her fingers through her hair, stroking an ear with her thumb.

"And more." Lauden blushed. "I... uh. Made a new friend. Maybe you'll get to meet her eventually."

"Her?" Y'shtola cocked an eyebrow. "Tell me more." She turned back to the stove, withdrew a large tray covered in thick crescent-shaped pies. She set it atop the stove, turned off the gas, and poked holes in each of the them with a fork. The smell was amazing. Lauden felt her mouth watering, realized she was hungry despite her large breakfast.

"She's... a Viera. Like me. She... please don't take this the wrong way but she knew how to touch me. The way only someone like me could know. And she taught me how to touch her. And..." she shuddered happily at the thought, felt herself grinning, felt lighter. "... she fulfilled my need." She thought back on the night, hoping she'd get to spend time with Cheria again, soon.

"Oh Lauden, that's *wonderful" news! I'm happy for you. I hope you get to have her babies some day." Y'shtola winked, grinning playfully, chuckling as Lauden blushed out to her ears. She filled water glasses from the tap, poured warm water out of the bowl she'd mixed the dough in and gave it a quick scrub and a rinse before hanging it on the rack to dry.

"Speaking of babies..." Lauden knew it was a rough segue but it was the best opportunity she had to inquire about something she had no idea how to ask about otherwise so she ran with it - "... do you need me to get any ingredients for you, for the..." abortifacient?

"No." Y'shtola leaned against the sink, arms on the counter behind her. "I don't need one. T'zuki... did not impregnate me. He... can't, actually, though that didn't stop him from trying." She smiled, briefly writhing against the sink, her tail flicking languidly. "No, that didn't stop him at all." She grinned, looked up to her lover, looked deep.

"He's... like you. Like your old Miqo'te friend, I mean. The one you told me about when you revealed yourself to me. Like you, but the other way, I believe you said. Much like your new friend with you, he... knew how to touch me. Inside and out." She sighed. "You made a very good choice, Lauden. It was... quite a night. Thank you." She pulled plates from a cupboard and set them on the counter, opened a drawer and drew out forks and knives.

Lauden was gobsmacked. "Wait, he... he never mentioned..."

"Do you tell everybody you meet?"

"No, but -"

"What's the difference?"

"Well, I -"

"It's his business, Lauden. I'm only telling you because we're close and I'd feel like I was lying to you if I didn't. T'zuki is... intensely private, and wasn't the most confident person when he arrived." She smiled conspiratorially. "He's far more sure of himself today."

"How is it that we both meet people like me, on the same day, and..." Lauden was perplexed. She took a seat at the counter as Y'shtola placed the tray of pies between the plates. She walked around the kitchen bits and took the stool next to her Warrior of Light.

"Strictly speaking, you met two people like you, on the same day. You just happened to grab one by the collar and toss him into my lair." Y'shtola grinned toothily. She forked a pie off of the tray and onto her plate, cut into it with her knife. The filling was mostly meat with a little popoto, the egg and pepper mixed in for flavor.

"I brought him to the door. You're the one who pulled him inside."

"Semantics. Eat!"

Y'shtola had done amazing work with the pies. Lauden ate her fill and then some, undoing another button on her blouse to Y'shtola's visible arousal. She tried to smile and shrug it off, but deep down she was terribly conflicted - Cheria wanted to make her bigger, Y'shtola clearly found the idea attractive... why was she fighting it? Why, when the food and the attention was so good?

"You're roiling with conflict." Y'shtola was tidying up. They'd eaten less than half of the pies; she busied her body with laying the rest aside for dinner, cleaning up the remnants of lunch. "I should like to know why, if you're inclined to tell me."

"I..." Why was this so hard. "My emotions and my... for lack of a better term rational reaction to my curvyness being encouraged... there's conflict. It's very... I don't know what to do to resolve it." She drained her water glass, stood up, stretched. She opened her pants and unbuttoned her shirt and left both on, belt dangling, belly protruding, far more comfortable.

"Hm. Would you like me to stop... appreciating you?" Y'shtola's tone indicated that if the answer was yes, she'd never speak of the matter again.

"No, gods no, the way you touch me, the way you love me when you touch me... I hope everyone has someone in their lives that allows them to feel how I feel when you do that. Whatever it is that's got me bent out of shape, I'm not consciously aware of it. I think it could be related to before, maybe. Back when I drank a lot I gained weight in a very masculine way and I hated myself for it and it took so long after I sobered up to work it off and maybe it's that. I don't know but it seems likely."

"You're afraid that if you get softer you won't look as womanly as you do now?" Y'shtola's voice was tinged with compassion and concern. "Your weight has fluctuated a good bit since we met. You've always been soft, always been feminine. You will always be feminine. Nophica's tits, Lauden, if you get any curvier people might think you're a fertility idol come to life." She took off the apron, left it folded over a stool as she headed into the drawing room. She sat on the left corner of the most comfortable couch and patted the spot next to her. Come, sit.

Lauden followed along after Y'shtola, her mind reeling from the complement. She sat in the middle of the couch, lay down, her head in Y'shtola's lap, her ankles crossed over the far armrest. Y'shtola combed her hair with the fingers of her left hand, traced the lines of her neck with her right. They enjoyed their warmth of each others bodies and the silence for a long moment. Y'shtola's fingers grazed Lauden's collarbones and her breasts, rubbing slow circles across her belly.

"That... might be the problem," Lauden sighed. "I'm not fertile. Not in the way that I wish I was. And while the idea of looking the part is quite attractive, I want to be the part, and the fact that I can't - not yet, anyway...." She trailed off.

"Rather womb than weight," Y'shtola mused.

"Yes." Lauden closed her eyes, tried to focus on Y'shtola's hands, how they felt. Her thighs against the back of her head, warm and toned, yet slightly soft.

"That's the shadow over your happiness, isn't it. The thing that gnaws at you more than any other." Y'shtola's words were slow, distant - the young Miqo'te was deep in thought.

"It is. In a way it's kind of a relief to have such a demanding job. I don't have much time to dwell on it. If I did I'd probably be an even bigger mess." It was, in fact, a big reason why Lauden threw herself into her work.

"Do you think a fulfilling dream about the subject might help? It wouldn't be real, obviously, but if it was vivid enough it would give you a memory to hang on to. That might tide you over until you're able to adjust your ingredients through other means." Y'shtola's right arm drifted lower, fingers tracing the crease her belly formed across her hypogastrium.

"I've had pregnancy dreams before," Lauden sighed. "They're among my most treasured memories. I'd enjoy another, I'd leap at the chance to have one, but... it would fade, just like the rest of them."

"That may not be the case," Y'shtola's left hand caressed her right ear. "I'll need to do some research. I have no idea how to give you the organs you desire but a vivid dream that addresses unmet needs... that, I might be able to help with. Maybe. I'll do the research and I'll let you know what I find."

"Thank you, Y'shtola." Lauden felt her eyes getting heavy. The room was warm, Y'shtola was warm, her belly was full, their needs were met... she felt well and truly relaxed for the first time in a long time.

"Lauden, would you like to join me upstairs for a nap? I didn't get much rest last night and I suspect you didn't either." Y'shtola patted her left thigh next to Lauden's left ear - get up.

Lauden sat up, blinked. "A nap sounds like a good idea." She stood slowly, following Y'shtola towards the stairs.

The bedroom had been cleaned and perfumed with lavender. Between that and the lingering smell of lunch there was no trace of Y'shtola's scent. She closed the window and turned down the blankets - the bed had been freshly made, their bags packed and open at the foot of it.

"You uh... really had some time on your hands this morning, huh?" Lauden tugged her pants down, sat on the bed to pull them off, dropped her shirt on top of them. A moment later her smalls joined the rest of her clothing on the floor.

"T'zuki insisted on helping, insisted it was his mess too," Y'shtola stood in front of Lauden and pulled off her tunic, giving the matronly Elezen a very nice view of a lithe torso covered in love bites. "He didn't seem to realize that most of the wreckage was from the night before last." Y'shtola turned around casually. Lauden gasped at the rows of deep finger-width gauges in her upper back.

Y'shtola rummaged about in her bag, handing Lauden a small pot of the analgesic cream she'd previously used on her Warrior's hen. "Would you mind applying some of this for me? A thin coating should do." She knelt between Lauden's knees, her back to the older woman, hands in her lap.

Lauden dabbed a bit of the cream onto her fingers and gingerly began to apply it. Y'shtola hissed at first, stiffening, then loosened a bit, making a conscious effort to hold her shoulders closer to a relaxed state. "I left worse. I insisted that I heal him, that he leave as close to how he arrived as I could make him. He graciously allowed me. He..." Y'shtola brought her hand to her shoulder, brushing Lauden's fingertips briefly. "He was so kind to me, Lauden. So gentle. Then when our Aether merged... it was like he took all that made me an animal into himself, and purified it, and returned it to me." Her words came slowly, carefully. "He hasn't been through heat since he became himself but he remembers it and broke me out of it as quickly as he could. Maybe broke me a little as well but I don't mind." She hissed again as Lauden neared a nerve. "Well, maybe a little. It'll heal."

Lauden started on the other side. "So what was it like? Merging your Aether with someone who knew what you were going through?"

Y'shtola bit her lip, bowed her head. "I have never felt such sorrow, such a need to alleviate the suffering of another. I feel that from you, more than from anybody else, but with him it was more... personal. Other Miqo'te men... they couple for their own pleasure. What they learn of ours is just that - learned. Even the most highly regarded Nuhn is engaging from a place of study and practice. When a woman is in heat that learning is abandoned; they couple with force, without care. T'zuki coupled with me for support. He made love to me with compassion and a deep, heartfelt desire to ease my pain. I've never experienced anything like it." She sighed wistfully. "You made a very good choice, Lauden," she repeated. "We've exchanged contact methods. I shall see him again."

"Wow." Lauden didn't know what else to say. She finished dabbing the cream around the scabbed-over gauges in Y'shtola's back, capped the pot and set it on the floor.

"Yes. Wow, indeed." Y'shtola stood, turned, took Lauden's head in her hands and pressed her cheek to her belly. "Thank you, Lauden." She knelt between her knees and kissed her. Long, slow, loving - a deep and heartfelt gratitude.

"Now," Y'shtola tugged Lauden's ears to get her attention. "Lie down. In the middle of the bed, so I can spoon you. And tell me about your night."

"You want to spoon me?" Lauden scooted back towards the center of the bed, drew her legs up, moving pillows about before settling down comfortably. She heard the bed creak softly as Y'shtola sat down, felt her press into her back, felt her left arm burrow between her waist and the bedspread, felt both hands caress her belly. Slowly, lovingly.

"You're bigger," Y'shtola whispered. "It's very becoming." She squeezed. "You must have had a lot to eat last night."

"It was... quite a meal." Lauden tucked her feet under the blankets, worked them upwards a bit. Y'shtola took the hint and drew the covers up to Lauden's hand; she drew them up to mid shoulder, leaving Y'shtola plenty of light and air. She thought through events, picked out the most relevant parts of the night, and brought her lover up to speed as the young woman rubbed and caressed her belly.

"So you slaked your thirst for length, and for milk... and that milk might slake yet another thirst. Wow indeed," Y'shtola repeated, "I might have to meet this woman, just to see if there's anything I can do to help the cause."

Lauden blushed vibrantly, her bottom grinding against Y'shtola's pelvis. The fingers of the Miqo'te's right hand walked downward, teasing her hen. Her tail brushed against the backs of her thighs.

Y'shtola held her fingers loosely, slightly away from Lauden's length. "I have some recipes for cheesecake that the two of you might find enjoyable. Chocolate cheesecake." Practiced fingers wrapped around the Elezen's hen as it surged into Y'shtola's hand. She whimpered, as much at the thought of food prepared from Cheria's milk as from her sudden arousal. She rocked away, rolled onto her back. Y'shtola swept her left arm out of the way but held contact with her right, thumb gently grazing Lauden's tip. She turned towards her lover, her hen now between them, and gazed down at her - longing, yet conflicted. She didn't know what to say.

Fortunately, Y'shtola did.

"I still care for you, Lauden. A great deal. It was a long shot that you'd be able to break me out of heat, and my hopes for that outcome may have inculcated certain expectations that have cast a shadow over our relationship. While this situation has certain emotional complexities, how I feel about you has not changed. I hope we've found our way into the light, and acknowledge that while it seems we've found companions that suit our specific needs, at least for now, I still take joy and comfort in you and I hope that you will continue to take joy and comfort in me for some time to come."

"It's not that," Lauden admitted. "It's... well... downstairs you mentioned a nap." She yawned.

"Swive me first? Taste me, maybe? What, other than a nap, are you in the mood for?" She tugged her Warrior's hen coyly.

Lauden thought for a moment. With her lust for length sated her feelings for Y'shtola were clearer, more immediate than they had been since she'd started taking the pills.

"How about something... traditional?" Lauden suggested, "Me on top, you on the bottom. I'm full enough that I'll probably press into you, and you'll have easy access to my chest and neck." It was a position she hadn't performed since before she'd become herself. She felt confident enough, whole enough, to give it a try.

"Why Lauden," Y'shtola's eyes widened in mock indignation, "You deviant!"

They kissed, long and passionate, rubbing each others backs. Y'shtola sank her fingers into Lauden's flank, eliciting a gasp, a moan. Lauden cupped her bottom in her hands, thumbs rubbing her tail, her long fingers massaging, teasing the smaller woman's bud, her slickening folds. Y'shtola gently brushed Lauden's hen, her touch favoring the tip, her pressure feather-light.

The women laughed and moaned as they untangled, repositioning themselves slowly. Showers of kisses and gentle caresses to shoulders, breasts, necks, ears, each moment readying them for the next. Lauden motioned for a pillow; Y'shtola handed her one and arched her back as she placed it under her bottom. They worked together to position it, Y'shtola signaling her readiness by taking Lauden's hands in her own, wrapping her legs and tail around her, and pulling her forward, downward.

The height difference meant that she still had to look down; Y'shtola still had to look up. Elevating from her elbows to her hands alleviated this somewhat. Lauden realized she'd never seen her lover in this position before - she seemed so vulnerable, so trusting. She moaned as Y'shtola took hold of her stiffened hen and guided her between her folds, holding her gaze with a deep yearning that gave way to a mix of excitement and relief as she slowly hilted herself with her.

Y'shtola's lips curled upwards as Lauden's belly pressed against hers. She cupped her breasts, quickly teased her nipples erect and began tugging at them slowly, like a cow's teats. She pushed against the Elezen's back with her calves, setting a slow pace.

"I like it down here," she whispered, "I like seeing you like this. Take it slow, dearheart. Be my Warrior of Light."

Lauden obliged. She didn't feel inside-out for a change - more of a distant otherness that was easy to push aside, at least for now. She found herself fully engaged with Y'shtola, without any hesitance, any holding back. She felt herself relax, felt herself flow into her lover, felt her joy, her pleasure, her love. Saw her tears of happiness, realized she was crying as well.

They lost track of time, their aether, their fluids. Their bodies commingled lazily, languidly, lovingly. Bells tolled in the distance. The light shifted. Slowly, glacially, patience gave way to the desire for excitement, for change. Y'shtola writhed, varying her angle, squeezing her thighs to alter Lauden's rhythm, urging her from a stroll to a walk to a jog. She wrapped her arms and legs around her lover's torso, squeezing, hanging over the mattress, rocking back and forth. Their breathing quickened, their aether pooled, their bodies primed, tensed.

Aether flared intensely, almost visibly as they completed - one energy, one body, one instant.

Slowly they drifted apart. Lauden's joints finally gave out; she lowered Y'shtola to the bed and slid down and back, on top of her yet face to face. They were exhausted, sweat glistening on their bodies, their eyes bright but tired. The weight of the Elezen gave the Miqo'te great comfort.

"So that's what you're like when your needs have been met." Y'shtola whispered, awe-struck. "I had no idea you could do that, Lauden."

"Neither did I. I... uh. Had rather a lot of incentive to practice aether manipulation last night. I guess my sense for it has developed a bit."

"A bit." Y'shtola laughed. "A bit! Well, whatever you did last night, keep doing it. That. Was. Amazing. I felt... I feel you, still. Within me. Next to me. I feel... comforted. Calm. Thank you." She kissed the hollow of her collarbone, tail brushing her knees.

Silence for a moment, enjoying the afterglow. After a time Lauden gripped Y'shtola in a hug and rolled over, reversing their positions, bringing the smaller woman closer to the place she liked to nest. She wrapped her arms around her and squeezed gently, purring happily.

"You're welcome, Y'shtola." Lauden was tired, satisfied. A little otherness down below but in the moment the satisfaction she'd brought her lover weighed much and more.

"Please, Lauden. Call me Shtola."

"You're welcome, Shtola." Lauden tried out the new configuration of syllables, found them to her liking. "That's... uh. Unexpected. Thank you. I'm honored." Seekers of the Sun were notoriously touchy about who they allowed to use their given names, and only their given names, when addressing them.

"Mmm." Shtola purred. "You've more than earned it. I like you, Lauden. I like you a lot."

They sighed, almost in unison, settling in. Between feet and legs and tail and hands they were soon comfortably under the covers, the setting sun bathing them in orange-red light as bells tolled in the distance.

"Back home tomorrow?" Lauden yawned.

"After breakfast," Shtola whispered.

"Sounds good."

Lauden combed her fingers through Shtola's hair. Her hand slowed and stilled as she drifted to sleep, her young lover snoring quietly on top of her.