#also I'm not saying Nuhns don't love their mates just- look he's trying

[efrmellifer]

Wondrous Tails Twelve

Prompt: Alpha and Omega/Going Into a Heat (NS.FW), 2,174 words (...whoops)

Etien rolled onto her side, stretching, and when she felt the twinge, deflated with a sighing “oh, gods.”

“Is aught amiss, kitten?” Aymeric asked her, pulling her closer by her middle. “Oh, you’re positively burning.”

“Let me go for a moment, please,” she answered, voice low in pitch and volume.

He drew his arms back and Etien scooted away, sitting up on the edge of the bed, running her fingers through her hair to gather it all back toward her frayed braid.

Her whole body was too sensitive, and her skin was hot, like Aymeric had said.

She had been dreading this moment. How she had avoided it in the autumn, when it should have happened, she had no idea.

Maybe it was because there had been no “autumn,” because there weren’t really seasons in this part of the world.

Either way, it was happening now. She flopped back onto her side of the bed, star-fishing as much as she could so her limbs didn’t touch, or touch Aymeric.

He sat up, leaned over her. “Etien?”

Gods, she loved looking at him. He was so… beautiful. She wanted to kiss him, to hold him, to have him hold her, pressing her against him until she whined because she--

She blinked, snapping herself out of it. “Don’t touch me. I’m not mad, just… don’t touch me.”

“Are you well?”

“I’m a healthy female Miqo’te of breeding age,” she said by way of answer. “I’m perfectly fine, but ‘well’ is not the word I would use for how I am right now.” She rolled away so she stopped looking at him, curling up into a ball. “I know you’re about to put your hand on my shoulder. Please… don’t.”

He pulled it back as if he’d been burnt. “Etien. This is beginning to worry me. Are you sure you are well?”

She rolled onto her back again, flinging her arm over her eyes. “Go to work, Aymeric. We can talk about this when you get home.”

He couldn’t stop himself from running a finger along the edge of her face, and she leaned into it the way she might a stream of warm water or a particularly pleasant patch of sunshine. “Do you think you should be better by then?”

“Even if I’m not, I’ll at least be more prepared to explain myself.”

He sighed, just a little. “If something is wrong, I would rather--”

Her voice was soft when she told him “Later. Go. I love you.”

He sat back, slid from the bed. Eventually, he got ready for the day and left.

When Etien heard the door close, she rose from bed, stretching her arms above her head, her tail out behind her, rolling her neck as she lengthened her body and limbs as much as she could, joints cracking.

She shook her head, trying to clear what little fog there was still floating around in it.

It was completely understandable, but still strange to her, that once he was gone, she was able to focus better.

But honestly, why wouldn’t it be that way? When she couldn’t see him, his thick, gently curling hair falling into those beautiful blue eyes, couldn’t hear his wonderful voice that could get her to do anything, smell that wonderful mix of vanillin and birch syrup, and those things she couldn’t name that made up his scent, couldn’t feel that soft skin so near and begging to be touched and bitten and—she was going to work herself into a lather again. She cleared her throat, even though no one was there to see her flushing cheeks and shifting hips and tried to get on with her day.

She put on her least exciting dress and started drifting around the house, trying to keep her mind on bland things.

She knew it wasn’t going to work, but it was worth a shot. If she stayed away from the bedroom, she wouldn’t think about making it the perfect den of love. She could deny the nesting instincts, the call of some vague sense of motherhood, if she didn’t stay put, if she read and cooked and made tea, and-- she needed some cold air in her lungs. She put on an outer thick enough she wouldn’t get sick or die of exposure, but that she would feel the wind’s bite as she walked, and she set out. She didn’t make it as far as she might have wanted, having passed Dzemael Manor with the requisite polite wave, raised a shaky hand to the people outside the Athenaeum Astrologicum, scurrying along the stones until she got to Fortemps Manor.

She had intended to speed up, to keep going and hopefully make it to Saint Reymanaud’s before she was spotted, but it was already too late.

“Mistress Mellifer!” The knight called. She wanted to ignore him, but if she didn’t turn around-- “Lady Borel!” Gods damn it.

Even worse was apparently all three Fortemps men had heard the knight shouting and now Edmont was looking out the window, Emmanellain was in the doorway, and Artoirel was already coming to her side.

“Etien, you may catch your death of cold, so unsuitably attired,” he chastised her gently.

All she could think was oh thank the Twelve, I really do see him as my brother, which wasn’t the most helpful thing to run through her mind when she was being lectured on not endangering herself in such frivolous ways, and “What would we ever do without you? Eorzea losing her hero, and us our sweet little Etien—think of Aymeric, won’t you?” but it could have been so much worse.

“I had to run a quick errand,” she fibbed, though now she wondered if there might be herbs at the Crozier to help her, “I’ll do it and run right home for a bath, Artoirel.”

“Good.” He rubbed her arms and let her go.

When she’d returned from the Crozier, it was mostly empty-handed, though one merchant who had just come from the border of Coerthas and the Twelveswood had some calming herbal blend.

Etien recognized it, from days in her youth, so at least she knew it was safe and effective, and now she was settling into a hot bath full of the stuff.

It wasn’t going to make the fire go away, but at least… it would keep her calmer until Aymeric got home.

She luxuriated in the tub as the frustration began to melt away, but even so, she was wishing a certain someone was enjoying the water with her.

She didn’t wash her hair, though she did rub a little soap into the thick fur of her tail, being careful to avoid too much pressure on the base, lest she make this whole soothing ritual be all for nothing, and then, the door opened.

She was dried and dressed before Aymeric had made it all the way to the back of the house, a little more attractively dressed than she had been in the morning, ready to greet him (and hoping to plant an idea in his mind).

She gave him a chaste kiss, and he practically collapsed in relief.

“You had me afraid I would never again get so sweet a kiss, my dearest.”

“Oh, you can have more than that.”

Aymeric cocked his head, curious but unwilling to press.

“...how much do you remember of your research about Miqo’te, Aymeric?”

He blinked. “A fair amount.” A hand came to his mouth, almost as if he were going to chew his nails. “Am I… not pleasing you? I wish you had spoken up, you deserve nothing but sheer rapture at every--”

“Aymeric. Aymeric.”

“...yes?”

“You’re doing, uh, fine. Better than. More like,” she huffed quietly, shoulders deflating when she realized subtlety wouldn’t get the job done. “Do you remember reading anything about heats?”

His eyes widened. “I thought those were usually in the autumn.”

Etien shrugged. “Well, yes.”

“Ah. Did the eternal frosts…?” His eyebrows rose now.

Almost blushing, Etien nodded. “Also yes.”

“You could have said!”

Now she looked away, hugging her arms to herself. “I could have. But if you had given me an ilm this morning, I would have taken a malm.”

“Take all of me you need, my dearest.”

Her hands balled to fists in the front of his shirt as she pulled him to her for a much more passionate kiss.

“Am I to assume--”

“Shh,” she soothed as she started heading back toward the bedroom.

“So what do I do?” Aymeric asked when he was more suitably undressed. “I am more than eager to help you, my love, but I remain as clueless now as I was the day we met.”

Etien laughed, flopping onto the bed unceremoniously, her skirt rising up her legs as she did. She beckoned him closer. “This is more like our days in the Shroud than the nights we spend here, do you understand?”

At the recollection of the memory, Aymeric nodded, swallowing thickly. “Are you sure?”

The fiery look in Etien’s eyes cooled to a soft glow. “Darling. Yes. I wouldn’t trust anyone but you to do with me as we did, as I’m asking you to do.”

“Well…”

“Please,” she pleaded, and the desperate tone spurred him to action.

“Guide me,” he begged. “I want to do this correctly.”

Etien took a deep breath, rising from where she reclined and getting into a more… usual position on her hands and knees, skirt lifted and then the whole dress gone. “The only instruction I have for you is to act like you want me bearing your kits by your nameday.”

Aymeric tried to stifle his shock, grabbing her hips as if he were any kind of prepared for this (but oh, he did want to help her, to please her).

He pulled her closer, pressing himself against her and feeling her spine straighten, then feeling her press back even further. Oh, the poor thing. Had she been like this all day? No wonder she hadn’t wanted to be touched. “Have you no more instructions for me?”

She nodded once. “If you feel the urge to bite me, do it.”

He sank into her like it was the only place he belonged, and the way she arced under his hands, her voice turning to a caterwaul the likes of which he had never heard had him stilling in worry until she said, breathlessly, “oh, all day, I’ve wanted you here, wanted us like this.” That gave him the assurance he needed, and what had been hesitant motions turned to an unrelenting yet smooth rhythm.

No moan after that first ever fully left her throat, and Aymeric was worried that was somehow his doing, that perhaps he was doing this wrong. However, when he ran a hand down her back, curling it around her tail with just enough pressure, he pulled the first fully-realized sound from her.

The second came just as easily on its heels. He bent, covering Etien more fully, and bit her like she had asked, just near the junction of her shoulder and neck (close to the same place, now that he thought about it, as he had last time they had done this), and got an emphatic, “gods, yes,” from her.

“How… how does this usually end?” he asked her, feeling that coil within him ready to snap, but worried she wasn’t quite so near to fulfillment.

“If you’re close, good,” she panted. “You should rest.”

“Not until you have been satisfied.”

“Oh, Aymeric, you sweet thing. We don’t have that kind of time.”

He withdrew from her. “Can I at least… see you during this?”

“Would it please you?” She asked, already turning around.

He laid a hand on her cheek, and she leaned into it, starting to purr. “I’m not your Nuhn, dear-heart. I’m your husband.”

Etien lay back against the pillows, completely open to him and gleeful when he dove into her arms, kissing along her collarbone and nipping at the spot where the swell of her breasts began.

His hand trailed down her stomach, lower and over her mons veneris, until he pressed against the bundle of nerves below. He wanted to ask if that was any good for her, but he didn’t have the words.

He was astounded at his own sudden bashfulness.

Luckily, Etien let out a soft moan that encouraged him, and he kept at that until her breathing was hitching in that way he loved.

When she had settled, when he had pulled her close to him and the covers over both of them, she sighed. “Well, we survived day one.”

“Shh,” he soothed. “I will be here to ease you through however many more follow.”

She gave a sleepy smile. “I know. This is the first time I’ve--” she yawned-- “looked forward to this.”

“I pray you will whenever it next comes as well,” he murmured, petting her hair, “because I will take this much care of you every time.”