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“Are you packed?”
“Estinien, I've been packed. I was waiting for you...to...” Nightbird's mouth went dry as she turned to look at the dragoon. “Why are you half naked?”
He looked down at himself, then back up at her, silver eyebrows raised. “What? We are going to swim, are we not?”
“Once we get there, yes.” Nightbird bit her lip a little. “Generally though, it's better not to travel in the swim-wear. You do realize how much you'll chafe?”
He looked at her as if he honestly hadn't thought about the fact that they would be in the saddle for hours before they got to the lake house.
“Oh.”
She gave him a sweet smile, but her tail lashed twice before she could control herself. “Put on some pants, my love.”
His eyes gleamed at her, and he started to step closer. She held up one hand. “No, no, no,” she warned him. “You start that, and we're not getting our weekend, Estinien. Come now, we need to get going.”
“I was only going to collect a kiss,” he pouted, and Nightbird bit her lip again.
Then she shook her head. “And you know quite well how that will go, you devil,” she managed, laughing a little. “Now go on. I'll meet you outside.”
He walked off, and she watched him go, unable to take her eyes off him. As the hem of his tunic rode up, exposing a little of his rear, she held in a mewl of exasperated lust. Twelve help her, it was a thong...
He turned his head just a little, saw her watching him, and smirked.
She made a face at him, ears back, and turned away, grabbing her pack off the table and going outside to ready the birds for their flight.
The silver haired devil had surely done that on purpose. His eyes had gleamed when she told him she needed these three days away from Ishgard, away from everything and everyone. She was certain he had notions in his head as to what they might do – but she wasn't sure if he really understood what loomed before her. If he would understand what she was going to ask of him.
Well, he would either be in for a pleasant surprise or an unpleasant one...
He came out just as she had finished checking the girth on her own bird. He was carrying his pack, but V'reen walked behind him, lugging a bulky parcel.
“What on earth?”
“You didn't mention food, but I decided some extra provender would be wise.” Estinien went to his bird, swiftly checking straps and buckles before settling his luggage in place.
V'renn waited, his little ears beginning to droop as his skinny arms struggled to hang on to the obviously heavy package.
Nightbird took pity on him. “Set it here,” she told the young servant, pointing to the ground in front of her.
He trotted over and carefully set the parcel down, not hiding a sigh of relief. She ruffled his hair, and chucked her finger under his chin. “Go along now, lad.”
Estinien's snort was audible to her – though hopefully not to V'renn – as the youngster scampered off. “It isn't that heavy, you know.”
“So?”
The tall Elezen only sighed, and Nightbird shook her head. Then she swung up into the saddle, with a care for her bird's fanciful barding. Especially the elaborate and beautifully dyed false wings. The bird, and its barding, had been a Starlight gift from Lady Haillenarte, a most extravagant present. Not for the first time she saw Estinien roll his eyes; he found the whole business ridiculous, over-complicated, and foolish. She was certain it wouldn't be the last time she ignored him doing it, too. But she smiled to herself anyway, amused at the pair of them.
Their flight was quiet, completely without incident – but long nonetheless. When the long, green shape of Bronze Lake came into view at last, both their birds flew straight as arrows for the near shore. Nightbird laughed a little as her bird touched down. “Let's allow them a short rest,” she said to Estinien as she dismounted. “Then we'll cross the lake.”
He didn't answer, and she looked round at him. He had got off his bird, but was standing there, watching her, a frown knitting his brow.
“What?” she asked.
He looked away. “Nothing.”
She marched up to him, hands on her hips, tail flicking. “We're not playing that game,” she told him in a warning tone. “What's bothering you?”
“It isn't me that has an issue,” he said. “I was merely watching you for...”
“For?”
“Well, you haven't shown signs, so I suppose, for nothing.”
Her ears went flat. “You're making very little sense, Estinien. It's not like you to dance around a subject, no matter how offensive it might be.”
“I've felt the sting of your claws, hell-cat,” he answered, his tone half joking. “I'm stubborn, yes, not stupid.”
“You're about to feel them a second time if you don't speak plainly,” she growled.
“Oh, very well.” He looked down at her. “I had thought perhaps this trip was due to...a certain need. But you show no signs of it, so...”
Her ears flattened further and her eyes widened and her tail went still. “I didn't think you knew about estrus.”
“I didn't. Someone told me.”
“Who? When?”
“Does it matter?”
“It might, if the person's information was flawed. Which,” her lip curled in disgust, “it often is.”
“He was a Miqote himself so I assumed he knew.”
“Psh,” she scoffed, “only a few males actually know. The Tias aren't usually permitted to stick around when...”
“Why?”
“Because of the Nunh, usually. Well, in some tribes.” She sighed. “An unbred tomcat's version is what you've heard, I'm afraid. I'll have to sort you out.”
He cocked his head to one side, and she sighed again. “Not now. The birds have had their stretch. Back in the saddle, sir dragoon.”
She didn't wait for him to respond, turning on her heel and swinging up into her saddle. She spurred the bird into flight without looking back, heading across the green water, her tail thrashing.
How annoying. She'd have to spend simply ages explaining, now. And she might not have much time. She knew her irritation was stronger than was reasonable. The effects of her estrus were beginning to take hold. She had no way to know exactly how long she could cling to her sanity.
Damn the Tia who had put notions in her husband's head.
The little house by the lake came into view, and Nightbird's sour mood lifted. When Aymeric had told her the new improvements were completed, that had been the catalyst for this trip. Her blasted estrus had simply hastened her need to leave the city.
She smiled, surveying the neat front garden – now complete with a wide, comfortable bench for sitting to watch the lake. The door opened without the shriek of rusty hinges, and she smiled.
The furnishings were perhaps a bit sparse, but given that whoever Aymeric had hired for the job had been given scant time to prepare, Nightbird wasn't at all disappointed.
The cabin was much larger than the old, original ramshackle place. That had been a single room with but one door and a few windows. Even after the “first pass” as Aymeric had called it, the footprint had been much the same. The place had been cozy, to be sure, but now it was transformed.
That small room was now a generously sized sitting room, in the front of the house, with a window onto the garden. The rest of the house seemed to wrap around that room, most of the rooms leading right into the next. There were two bedrooms, with not much in them other than beds. A modest bathing chamber and necessary connected the two, and a short hallway led from there towards the back of the house.
On the other side of the front room, another arched opening led into a room all of stone – Nightbird stepped in and blinked to see a small anvil and a very compact furnace. All of it was cold, at the moment, but when she saw the pieces of rough-formed armor stacked near the furnace, she nodded. Estinien had mentioned that he could forge his own armor – clearly, when Aymeric had taken over the building project, he'd known the dragoon would appreciate having the capability literally built into the new house.
The forge area had a second archway, and she walked to it, glancing through to see a small but reasonably well equipped kitchen. She could make out a back garden through the windows set over the sink. She wasn't sure if it was larger or not, but it had a covered porch and a stouter, taller fence than in the front.
Her heart felt warm. The Lord Speaker had gone so far beyond “just the basics” for the two of them...she must remember to thank him. The Twelve knew, Estinien wouldn't think about it. Her beloved was not an ungrateful man at all – but he had not had to think about social niceties for so very long, he was quite out of the habit.
Estinien came inside, and looked around for a second before setting their packs down in the center of the floor. “Huh. It's all blue, of course.”
Nightbird quirked her eyebrow at him, but stepped outside.
Estinien came with her, and took the larger parcel from his saddle. He grunted to her and gestured with his chin towards the birds. Used to his silent ways, she nodded and turned her attention to settling both chocobos. Saddles and bridles came off and were replaced with their soft halters. She did not trouble to tie them, choosing instead to let them browse the shrubs around the outside of the garden. Greenery was abundant here and both birds whistled and chuckled to each other, well pleased.
There was a simple little structure tucked against the rocks that defined one edge of the property – not much more than a roof over a set of saddle-racks and a tall manger. Enough room for perhaps as many as three chocobos to take shelter from rain – but then, she had no intention of hosting many guests in this house. No. This was going to be a quiet home for herself and Estinien...they would not entertain often.
When she got inside, the packs were nowhere to be seen.
Estinien came to the archway leading to the bedrooms, and paused there, just looking at her.
“Shall we eat?” she asked him, “Or are you perishing for that swim?”
“Your call,” he answered, but she saw his hands twitching, and knew he had neither food nor water on his mind.
She stepped close to him, and lifted her hands to set them on his chest. Her ears caught the tiny sound of his breath catching, and a shiver of pleasure ran through him and into her fingertips.
She went on tiptoe and placed a soft kiss on his lips, as his hands came up and cradled her head.
The kiss remained soft, gentle – almost shy. She pulled back a tiny bit, and looked up into those eyes that so enchanted her. His fingers threaded through her hair, and then his thumbs caressed her neck in just the right spot. Her eyes narrowed as she purred and pressed closer.
“My little bird,” he whispered.
“Shall I sing for you?” She said it half-sung, the way she knew he found so fascinating, how her voice could modulate even plain speech into music.
He shuddered, and his arms went around her, tightening, possessive, wonderful.
His kiss was hungrier now, but still somehow reserved. She wriggled against him, her hands wandering until he pinned her arms with his.
“A swim,” he murmured, though he was breathing fast and she could feel his excitement. “Then we talk.”
He let her go, and stepped away.
She gazed up at him, half tempted to simply leap on him and have her way with him right now...and then she shook her head, shook herself all over. She forced away the urges that were trying to clamor for release. “A swim,” she managed.
He stepped into the second bedroom, and closed the door softly, leaving her to collect her wits and go get into her swim things.
She beat him outside, but not by much. She brought along a blanket, and Estinien had towels tossed over his shoulder as he joined her on the front porch. They walked down to the water's edge, their fingers entangled lightly. It was still warm out, and bright – by her estimation, they had a good three hours before the sun finished its descent in the west. At this time of year, in La Noscea, meant brief rain showers at dusk and chill nights, but the sky was clear for now.
She spread the blanket on the tiny strip of beach – mixed sand and pebbles as it was, it would be hell to lay on without some sort of cushioning – and then turned toward the water.
Estinien, having dropped the towels on top of the blanket, ran past her. She watched with no small amount of lust, admiring the flex and bunch of his gorgeous rear and those wickedly powerful thighs. Then, he flat-dived into the lake, and she smiled, charmed by his enthusiasm.
For her own part, she waded in, her deepest instincts wary of immersion even though she knew full well how to swim. She looked out across the water and realized she couldn't see Estinien.
Even as her brow furrowed, he burst out of the water, his arms raising little waves as he swam. Nightbird smiled again, and wondered if he might just be showing off for her a little. Well, and why not let him? She certainly didn't mind the view.
She waded out, farther, until she was just up to her chest. The water was cool and soft against her, and the rocks that made up the lake-bottom here were smooth, not slimy. She watched her lover swim for a time, mesmerized by the smooth, powerful motions, just enjoying the coolness of water and warmth of sun. The slowly uncurling heat inside of her ebbed and surged, inevitable as the tide, but for now it was a quiet thing. She would not descend into the panting madness of her heat until nightfall. Hopefully.
She must explain it all to Estinien before that. Would he even understand? Oh, she had no doubt he would comprehend parts of the situation – but would he really grasp what she was asking of him? She had never discussed this decision with anyone before. Not even Raha.
She pushed the memory away. That summer was long ago, now; that man was gone, that time was over. This was not the same – and she would not make the mistake she had made back then. She would not keep a veil over her hopes.
He vanished beneath the water's surface again, and she eased forward, ready to do some actual swimming. Her feet left the rocks and she began to paddle a little, not really trying to do more than tread water for the moment.
And then something grabbed her around the knees and yanked.
Only instinct kept her from yelping and getting a lungful of water. She struggled, eyes tightly shut, and swiped at her unseen attacker, but as abruptly as she'd been grabbed, she was released, and she kicked for the surface.
As soon as her head cleared the water, she dragged in a huge gulp of air, and shook her head violently, scattering water. She glared around her, only to see Estinien's head pop up a few yards away. He was laughing.
“You!” She struck out towards him, swimming as hard as she could, but he easily kept his distance.
“You look unhappy, my kitten,” he teased.
“That was a rotten trick!” she answered. “Scoundrel!”
He laughed aloud, and then he dove again.
She spun, legs kicking, trying to see him. A flash of pale motion was her only warning, and she evaded his grab by a whisker, yelling as she writhed away.
“Oh! You – you crocodile!” But her outrage was tempered with laughter.
“Then catch me,” he taunted, and she gave chase.
The two of them romped in the water, chasing each other by turns. He ducked her under a few more times, and not once did she lay so much as a claw on him. But she didn't really mind, and laughed as hard as he did, when she wasn't spitting water out of her mouth.
But at last her energy waned, and she waved him off, splashing water at him. “Peace! Truce! Mercy!” she called out, still giggling.
“So you admit defeat?”
“Fine, I am defeated!” She laughed. “Just let me rest, you incorrigible villain!”
She rolled onto her back, moving her limbs just enough to keep herself afloat. They had ranged all over the shallows and beyond, and the water beneath her was colder. She lifted her head a tiny bit, orienting herself, and then with a flutter of her feet, sent her body towards the shore.
She felt him near her, and tensed slightly. “Don't you dare,” she warned.
“Perish the thought,” he murmured, his voice close to her ear. “Are you too weary to get ashore, little kitten?”
She scoffed. “No.”
“Good, then you've energy for this as well.”
He tugged at her, gentle but insistent, until he had her in his arms, their legs moving in rhythm.
She let her arms settle on his shoulders as he pressed her close. The feel of his skin against hers roused her anew, and she shivered. The coiling heat in her intensified.
He kissed her, and she savored it, tasting him, focused on his mouth and his tongue, feeling his hair drift across his back and her hands.
Then she pulled back. “Need to...stop.” Her voice was no more than a hoarse whisper. “Estinien, I need to...explain.”
“Do you?”
She opened her eyes. “Yes.”
He let her go. “Then, explain.”
She set herself to floating again, slowly making her way back to shore. As he followed her, she spoke, her eyes on the sky.
“My kind does have estrus – many people call it a heat, but I don't like that word very much. For some of us, it's merely a stronger urge than usual, for a handful of days, and nothing more. For others, it's...debilitating.”
“And for you?” His voice was quiet, barely enough to hear over the lapping water.
“Closer to the unpleasant end of that spectrum,” Nightbird admitted. “Because of that, I make certain I always have remedy with me.”
“What sort of remedy? A favorite playmate, perhaps?”
“A potion,” she answered, not acknowledging his humor. “It is not the best of solutions, but for me it's the only thing that will help.”
She turned over, and lowered her feet until she felt stones beneath her toes. She walked back to the shore. Estinien stayed beside her, silent.
Not until they lay on the blanket, she on her belly and he on his back, did he speak.
“Just how does this potion help you?”
“It puts me to sleep.”
“What?” He turned his head to meet her gaze, scowling. “That does not sound very helpful.”
“It's better than the alternative.”
“Which is – what? Lust?”
“It is more like a madness, my love,” she sighed, resting her head on her forearms, not quite meeting his eyes. “Hours and hours and hours of this...intense itch. I rather hate it.”
“And your only respite is oblivion?” His eyes narrowed. “The man who spoke to me told me that you would require...performance.”
She snorted. “I'm betting what he told you was that I would want to fuck until I passed out.”
From the look on his face, her words hit home. Her lip curled. “And now I know who talked to you,” she muttered. “Summermoon is a damn idiot.”
“Was he wrong?”
She sighed and buried her face against her arms. Frustration swirled through her, and the primal need that she did not want to feel growled, awakening. She didn't have much longer...
Estinien's hand touched her shoulder; his aether whispered along their bond.
“Nightbird. Answer me.”
“It is accurate to say that having a lot of sex is an effective way to handle one's estrus, yes.” She spoke without lifting her head. “But as I'm certain my cousin did not mention, there are problems with that method.”
“Such as?”
“Endurance, for one thing,” she sighed. Then she lifted her face and looked at him. “Endurance on both our parts.” She held his gaze. “And pregnancy. After all, that is what estrus is for, physiologically speaking.” Using the more scholarly terms helped push away the uncomfortable immediacy of the need now trying to crowd her mind.
She heard his breath catch. Felt it in their bond, the spark of speculation – joy – caution – question. Perhaps it was only her imagination, the hint of a dragon's growl.
“So you've come here to sleep for three days?” he asked. “And I am here...what, to guard your rest?” There was no censure in his tone, and he did not pull away from her.
“I don't want to be alone,” she answered. She dropped her eyes, unaccountably shy all of a sudden. “And I...hoped to include you in this decision. This time.”
“I don't understand.”
She shut her eyes. She had been afraid of just this. She stayed quiet for a time, trying to find the words for things she'd never thought would be part of her life again.
“We talked about having children,” she murmured. “And we agreed that we should take our time.” She felt him nod. “I cannot say it is a guarantee that I would become pregnant...I intended to explain this more clearly.” She stopped, and rubbed at her face. “It's beginning to affect my mind,” she whispered. “Not much time left.”
She pushed herself up onto her knees, and Estinien sat up. “Little bird.”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
She raised her eyes to his. He reached out and touched her cheek.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I...as I said,” she faltered, uncertain of what he wanted to hear, “I don't want to be alone.”
“Do you want to be pregnant?”
Nightbird tried to look down, but he would not let her. “I...yes. I want your child, Estinien. But the risks – gods, I haven't even been able to think about that. I didn't want to pressure you like this.”
“Then,” he told her, with a small sigh, “let us think about those risks now.”
He rolled to his feet, and held his hand out to her. She let him help her up, let him gather their things, let him lead her up to the house. She barely registered any of it.
She had to fight for every rational thought – but she battled her urges, stubbornly, determined not to let that terrible itch win out over her reason.
A vision of twin girls flashed before her mind's eye. Lean, like their father, with eyes just as piercing – lively, laughing little darlings, strong and swift.
An impossible dream. A foolish wish, born as much of the regret and loss from before as from her love for the man beside her. Had she any right to ask this of him – of herself, even?
Estinien brought them both inside, and led Nightbird by the hand into the main bedroom. He let her go, and leaned on the wall, watching her. Waiting.
He admitted to himself that he would not mind at all giving her the sort of performance that Summermoon had implied she would crave. He had even, to some extent, looked forward to the idea. Dragons also went through mating cycles, after all – the urge affected both males and females. Knowing that, the idea of being with her through a heat filled him with breathless anticipation. They had known such pleasure together – but under the influence of such need, what heights might they discover?
Yet, he could feel the reticence in her. He did not have to ask why, even though he did not know the details of her early life. He had seen the marks of trauma too often. Something made her loathe the loss of control. Therefore – he would hold back. He would wait. He would contain that lustful fascination that lurked in him, and be strong for her.
Her eyes were far away as she stood beside the bed. He didn't need their bond to know how hard she was thinking – how hard she was struggling to do so.
The image floated across his mind of his beloved, round with child, and lust transmuted into a sharp and wordless longing. Bearing a child – his child – the dragon-soul within him stirred. She was his mate. Of course he would give her a child! He would gladly keep trying until –
But he pushed the dragon aside, forcing it to hush.
This had to be a decision made with their eyes open. Not something resulting from base instinct and the pleasures of the physical act. He'd seen it all too often, children born into situations where they were not wanted, or were wanted but could not be supported. He would not inflict such on Nightbird, or on any potential children. If she was not ready – then even should his balls turn blue and fall off, by the Fury, he would hold himself in check.
Nightbird shook her head, dragging herself back to the present moment.
She saw her pack, resting where Estinien had put it, and went to it. She rummaged for only a moment before drawing out the black glass bottle. So small a thing, just a few mouthfuls of liquid; and yet it meant so very much. It made a quiet click as she set it on the bedside table.
She looked at Estinien. “I never wanted to chain you,” she said quietly. “I know how much you crave freedom. Bound for so many years to that damnable Eye. To hatred, revenge, duty.” It was hard to keep her eyes on him. “A child – I feared that it would be a heavier millstone than all those things.”
He pushed away from the wall and came to stand in front of her. She looked up at him.
“It is true that I did crave freedom.” He cupped her cheek. “I was bound for too long. But I learned something, very swiftly.”
“What?”
“That I had also been supported by those same oaths. Bound, I was not the master of my own time, I was not allowed to remain ever alone. Unfettered, I roamed as I wished, rested when I was weary, and kept myself apart. Weeks could go by and I might see no one, speak to no one. I thought it would be paradise.” His hand trembled against her skin. “Instead, I nearly went mad.”
She put her hand over his. “Estinien.” She had known all of this, through their soul bond – but to hear him say these things aloud...
“I found that I needed something else – someone else.” His eyes, so often full of sardonic wit, showed her only longing. “You touched me, little bird. Touched me when I thought I could not be touched, reached me through all my armor, in spite of all that I did to fend you off.”
“Have I brought you sorrow?” She pressed her cheek into his warm palm.
“Confusion, perhaps,” and he smiled faintly. “Never sorrow.”
“And now?”
“I do not know if I can raise a child,” he said, the honesty in his voice raw enough to make her ache. “But I want to try. If you would have me.”
“If I would...” She leaned into him, pressing her body close, her cheek against his bare chest. “I am not a needy sort of woman,” she whispered. “Yes, I would have you, Estinien.”
“Then take the nostrum,” he told her. “Give yourself that relief, and we will talk about this further when you wake.”
She looked up at him. “And you will stay? Watch over me, even if all I do is sleep?”
“Aye, that I will.”
Her smile wavered, and her voice held a relief that made him ache for her. “Then I shall look forward to waking,” she said, “and to talking this through together.”
He dipped his head to kiss her. “Together,” he murmured against her mouth. “I like the sound of that.”