Maronette returns to the room to find Elwen and Natalie lying on their sides, giggling. She carries three glasses in her hand, with two pinched between her right fingers and the third cupped in her left. Whisky neat for her, Devil’s Cherry for Natalie, and Roseblood wine. She can’t believe her luck that Natalie carries the expensive and rare spirit, which is Elwen’s favorite. She knows that the sight of the two women in bed, being so friendly and intimate, should make her jealous or nervous, but it doesn’t. It just fills her with a fluttering warmth to know that her relationship with Elwen remains as strong as before, even after what they have done. She has to admit she had had her doubts, and it seems like even Natalie isn’t holding resentment over the role she is now cast in. Maronette knows it’s not the role she would’ve wanted, so she also has her doubts about how much is genuine acceptance and how much is an act. But all those doubts are set aside as she actively makes a choice to take their intimate moment at face value. She climbs naked onto the bed, behind Elwen, putting the singer between her and Natalie, and hands the two of them their drinks.

“Here you go, Roseblood wine and Devil’s Cherry…”

“Wait…” Elwen almost jumps up on the bed as she’s given the glass. “Roseblood wine? That can’t be right…”

It’s not Maronette, but Natalie who responds, running her finger through Elwen’s arm playfully as she coos in a soft tone:

“Oh, but it is true.”

Her voice is full of mischief, and Maronette is sure now that there’s some story behind it, some story that Natalie is eager to tell. She’s unsure if they will have the time, though, but Elwen takes the initiative of asking before she can brush the subject off:

“But how!? These grapes only grow…”

“On vineyards planted where there was a large battle, with grapes seeded during a blood moon…” Natalie finishes the sentence, nodding. “I had a heist for a crate of these two months ago. Fifty bottles… I told them two broke on transport, spilled some cheap wine on the wagon floor, and kept them for myself… They still took them from my pay, you know… but that’s fine. I would never be able to afford this at market prices anyway.”

Elwen looks genuinely impressed, and Maronette is too. Roseblood wine has been a rare treat they’ve been offered twice in their lives, and they’ve bought it only once. The first time they tried it, the Black Rune Club wanted to make a show of what they could offer, and some big shot poured them a dose. The second time, the Eutarion’s summer festival gave each guest a glass to celebrate the family’s pivotal role in a battle in the distant past of the Empire. The third time, Elwen splurged three months of her wages and theater seat commission on a bottle for themselves, to celebrate her first big successful play.

Maronette considers for a moment how odd it will be for this moment to be elevated to join the ranks of those other moments in both their memories. Elwen takes a sip and moans in delighted surprise, before nodding.

“It’s really it, by the Springtide… I think I’m going to cry. Am I tearing up?”

“Not too much,” Natalie teases.

Maronette chuckles and takes a sip of her own whisky, as Natalie accepts the Devil’s Cherry.

“Hrm… You still mix a mean drink, Maroonie…” Natalie praises.

“What’s in that… It’s a devilish cherry or something?”

“Devil’s Cherry…” Natalie corrects and offers her a sip. “Groseille liquor, a dash of whisky, a squirt of lemon.”

Elwen looks skeptical before she reaches out and tries a sip, holding the cup through Natalie’s hand. Her expression shifts from skeptical to confused, then to slight enjoyment, as she smiles and nods.

“See, not so bad.”

“No, not bad at all… but I would still take my Roseblood wine over it.”

“Oh, I would too,” Natalie says, chuckling and drinking.

The three women banter very briefly about drinks, and Maronette is quickly ganged up on as Natalie and Elwen both mention how she is more than a little fond of strong spirits. Maronette has never considered herself a bottle fiend, as she has never had an addiction that threatened to ruin her life. But if she is honest with herself, she must admit that she is more than a little fond of the buzz that comes with a few drinks of neat whisky. Maronette eventually concedes to the two, rubbing Elwen’s stomach from behind and kissing her shoulder occasionally as they talk. Finally, Elwen finishes her glass of Roseblood wine and kisses Maronette intensely on the lips. She whispers, as if afraid the woman might forget, the word ‘mine’ after the kiss, and then she pushes herself up. Maronette tries to get up, but Elwen chuckles and presses on her shoulder, so she stays in bed.

“I’m just going to put this back on the shelf…” She gestures to the empty glass. “And then I have to pee.”

“Oh, right.” Natalie nods. “Last door to your left, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” Elwen says, looking down at the soft cock still hanging between her legs, and giving it a playful wiggle. “I’ve always wanted to pee with one of these. I apologize in advance if I make a mess!”

Maronette is a little embarrassed at her lover’s very cavalier attitude towards the cock she has grown on herself, but Natalie seems to find the crude humor amusing, and snort-laughs at the comment before Elwen skips to do her business, leaving the two lovers alone.

“Well… I have to admit, I know what you see in her now,” Natalie says. “I mean, she’s pretty, of course. But you were never drawn to just pretty…”

“I like her for way more than magical dicks, Natalie…” Maronette says with a sigh.

“Oh, no. I know that. I didn’t mean that part. Though it was really fun, I have to admit.”

“Oh? Then…?”

“She’s fun, right? She’s really fun. And, gosh, you smile like a goof around her. I kinda want to hate it, because she took you away from me. But… I can’t. She makes you too happy.”

“Natalie…”

“No, she does… In a way I never could.”

There are tears in the corner of her eyes, but she’s not crying, not properly. Because the tears don’t roll, and her expression is very close to a smile. A bittersweet one. Maronette’s heart feels like it has been tightened by a rope, and now it hurts whenever it beats. She wants nothing but to tell Natalie all that she knows the girl wants to hear; that she’s wrong, that Elwen doesn’t make her the happiest woman on Earth, etc. But that is just to stop Natalie’s pain because, in truth, she knows the girl is right. And she knows that soothing her pain with a lie would be wrong and cruel. So, she has to be truthful, even if it makes her chest ache.

“She makes me really happy, Natalie. You did too, though, when we were together. But I’m with her now, and I don’t want to ever not be with her…”

“Maroonie…”

“No, listen. It’s not that I don’t love you, Natalie. I will always love you. But the love I have for her is just… Different. I don’t want to give you false hope, you know? I would be lying if I said this… wasn’t amazing. It was. I’d do it again if you two wanted it. But that’s as far as we can go, in this sense…” Maronette says. “I will always be your friend, though. And I will be with you for thick and thin otherwise. But intimacy, sex… That part can’t go further than we went today.”

Natalie’s bittersweet smile persists, and she dips her head and nods.

“Maronette… I won’t bullshit and say I don’t want more. But let’s be honest, we were always kinda… on and off, right? Even if I could take you away from her, and I know I can’t, I wouldn’t. You two deserve this… stable domestic bliss thing you have going on. I would never be able to match that,” she speaks with uncharacteristic candor, adding, “and if I’m being honest? This here… What we did? It’s more than I expected. So, yes, I’m good. I swear I’m good.”

Maronette believes her, and she reaches down to place a brief kiss on the redhead’s lips. Natalie kisses her back for a moment, and she feels a love that is weirdly close to a sisterly love, but with that strange sexual edge. She hopes nobody ever asks her to define that out loud, knowing how bad it would sound. But she knows, in her heart of hearts, that it makes sense to her.

“Elwen liked it. I sensed it. Maybe it will happen again. We will see.”

“What was it that Old Cartwright used to tell us?” Natalie reminisces.

“Expect nothing…” Maronette begins.

“…But take what’s offered,” Natalie finishes.

Maronette realizes that there is no reason it should’ve taken her so long to finally understand what Natalie felt and thought about this. Old Cartwright was a criminal and, in a way, a surrogate father figure to both of them. He was a gentleman thief and con artist, as much as those things exist, and despite his life of crime, he was concerned about a proper philosophy of life, manners, and etiquette. That part of his lessons never rubbed off on either of his girl pupils, as they both grew coarse or crass, but outside of etiquette, his life lessons really stuck with them. Natalie is enjoying the gift of what she can get instead of worrying about what she can’t, and Maronette feels the ache in her chest vanish and breathes out in relief.

“You’re a good one, Natalie.”

“Nah, I’m a no-good street rat.”

“You’re really not,” Maronette says simply.

And then Natalie’s hand moves between Maronette’s legs, touching her soft cock, and causing her to squirm, as her member doesn’t stay soft for long. Natalie displays a smirk of pure mischief and says:

“Do you think we are still on some sort of grace period? Because I really want to give you head right now.”

“Oh… I…”

Maronette isn’t sure what to answer, but her member seems to have made up its own mind. Funny how it seems to think for itself at times, just like some men hinted at, often right before she punched them in the face, as it quickly stands fully hard. But before Natalie can dive down across the bed towards Maronette’s waist, Elwen enters the bedroom and living room area, wearing the same robe Natalie had on when they first came into the house. She doesn’t seem the least bothered to find the redhead stroking her wife’s cock, though it’s clear from the silhouette of her robe that she has already vanished her own after using the restroom, presumably as a lad would.

She looks more amused than upset or anything of the sort to find Natalie’s hand toying with her lover’s magically summoned manhood, and Natalie is cheeky enough not to move her hand away immediately upon Elwen’s entrance but to maintain eye contact with her while caressing Maronette.

“Well, I must say, this was much more fun than I had originally expected,” Elwen confesses with a smile. “But I’m afraid I need to interrupt your fun before you two get too deep in it. Maronette and I have to return to our townhouse. There’s business we need to see to tonight…”

Natalie slowly moves her hand away, and Maronette finds herself taken by a compulsion to pull it back towards her cock and ask Elwen for just a few more moments so she can find release, but the guard has more good sense than that. She sighs slightly and rolls off the bed to reach for her clothes on the floor.

“Considering my shirt was cut, I might need you to lend me something to wear, Natalie,” Elwen says as her lover begins to get dressed.

“Oh, of course, you can see if anything in my trunk fits you…” Natalie says, lying down on her back on the bed and putting two hands behind her head as she lies on the pillow, not minding her naked state, still leaking a bit of seed from both lovers.

Maronette suspects she enjoys the lewd display of it, as she reaches for her pants in the middle of the mess. Elwen moves to touch Maronette’s naked shoulder, and the singer closes her eyes and hums something. The spell’s effects vanish, with Maronette shuddering in pleasure and that weird tingling sensation as what once was a hard cock shrinks and warps back into being her clit.

She puts her shorts back on, and then pants and riding boots, and as she is putting on her coat, she takes a moment to think again about the mark she had seen on Natalie’s rump during their moment of passion. It was the entire reason they had done this, in theory, as she starts to think that maybe Elwen had just had too much fun herself for something that was just a job. Maronette feels the piece of writing coal and paper in the pocket of her military-style coat, and she breathes out in relief.

Moments later, Elwen and Maronette are boarding a carriage out of the Riverside district and back towards their townhouse on the other side. The ride involves going around a big chunk of residential blocks before they reach the nearest bridge, so they have some time to talk, and that’s exactly what Elwen intends to do. She adjusts the cuffs of her suit, which she wears over a light silk shirt she borrowed from Natalie. And deep down, the singer has to admit to herself that she had a little bit of an agenda beyond simply getting dressed when she borrowed the piece. It had been a fun time, and she might be willing to do it again in the future. Perhaps on her own turf next, with the excuse of Natalie visiting her to reclaim her confiscated shirt.

As Maronette enters the carriage and closes the door, Elwen smiles towards her, sitting across from her girlfriend inside the coach. The driver outside can’t hear them through the windows, and the noise of the creaking wheels and hooves should give them additional privacy, so she isn’t worried about being heard.

“So… that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Elwen inquires, and she chuckles as her lover immediately blushes.

“It was not…” Maronette admits, begrudgingly. “It could’ve backfired phenomenally, though.”

“It could’ve, maybe. But it didn’t.”

Maronette reaches into the pocket of her coat and pulls out a small piece of paper on which she has sketched something. Elwen accepts it with a mild frown of confusion before she remembers the whole point of their visit to Natalie. While it had been rather fun, of course, they had gone there to investigate the odd tattoo or mark Elwen had seen on the girl’s buttocks, or thought she had seen.

“You’re right. She had a glowing mark in the presence of magic,” Maronette explains as the sketch is taken from her hand. “I did my best to reproduce it.”

“Let’s see this…” Elwen takes the drawing.

The circle is crossed by a lightning bolt that ends in an arrow. It looks familiar to her; she just can’t be entirely sure where she has seen it before. But the hairs standing on the back of her neck tell her immediately that it isn’t a good sign.

“That bad, huh?”

Maronette must’ve been reading her expression closely. Elwen shakes her head and pockets the sketch.

“I’m not sure yet, but… this is an arcane mark. It’s like a signature that belongs to a specific spellcaster.”

“And… what does it mean to have one on you?”

“It makes it easier, or possible, to use spells that you would otherwise need to see the subject to cast. It’s used a lot for scrying spells…” Elwen says, looking out the carriage window.

“Do you think… Natalie is aware of the mark?”

“I have no idea, Maronette… but the Black Rune would know who this belongs to. My concern is… what if they are behind this?”

“Natalie working for the Black Rune?”

“Stranger things have happened… They might be trying to keep tabs on us, and knowing your previous relationship figured she might be a good way to do just that.”

Maronette shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

“There’s a chance they could’ve done this without her being aware, though. Until we know more, we have to be extra careful around Natalie… Or maybe just avoid her entirely.”

“So… you’re saying someone might have, you know… watched us do all that?”

“Well… yes, though I hardly think their main interest is who we do or do not bed…” Elwen reckons.

“Who we bed, in our particular case, could have ruinous consequences.”

Elwen nods slowly and ponders as she watches the city go by her slowly. The coach ascends the gentle incline to cross one of the stone bridges over the river. She still can’t believe she had Roseblood wine that day. It has such a rich, deep flavor, not too sweet but sweet enough. Her mind tries to make sense of the thief and her potential motivations, but she can’t really come up with anything, and then she sighs.

“Well… until we have more information, we proceed as planned, right?” Elwen finally says.

“Proceed as planned?”

“We can’t lose sight of what we want, Maronette. The Simulacrum. The BRC will reach out to me soon to arrange for the spell to be cast. Jinzo assured us of it. And that’s what this whole thing has been about, right?”

Maronette takes a second to pause, and then she nods, agreeing with Elwen. Elwen can guess what’s going on inside her head. Maronette doesn’t like to leave loose ends untied, and Natalie is particularly close to her, so if there is some doubt about the girl’s loyalty, she very likely wants to clarify that situation before they can move on. But, while Elwen sympathizes with those feelings, she knows that their own plan is already in motion, and she can’t see a clear way forward to investigate the mark without getting the BRC even more involved with them. And each favor they do will have a cost. More than that, if the arcane mark belongs to someone in the organization, asking them directly about it might signal that they know about Natalie, and it can put their lives at stake, or hers. Depending on exactly what her role in it is.

The coach eventually halts in front of Elwen’s townhouse after a long trip from Natalie’s street on the Riverside. After paying a couple of silvers to the driver, the two women enter the house, and Elwen takes a deep breath, feeling the familiar smell of the wooden floorboards and the flowers, often arranged in vases in the living room. Maronette wraps her arms around Elwen’s waist from behind, as soon as the door is closed behind them, and her lips touch the nook of Elwen’s neck. The singer tilts her head to the side to accept the kiss and offers more of her neck to her lover’s tender lips.

“Well… someone’s feeling amorous, all of a sudden…” Elwen teases softly.

“Not all of a sudden, no…” Maronette says, trailing kisses from the nook of her neck and up to Elwen’s ear. “But very much now.”

With a chuckle, Elwen breaks the contact and turns towards her lover to take both of Maronette’s hands in her own and hold them while meeting the guard’s gaze. She knows what that is about, to some extent. It goes beyond Maronette merely wanting to kiss her, Elwen reckons. She is looking for comfort and reassurance that whatever happened truly won’t negatively impact their relationship, and perhaps she feels a bit guilty about enjoying herself too much. Elwen can relate to that feeling, too. She had felt a bit guilty about being inside her lover’s ex-girlfriend, and for a moment, she had enjoyed the thought of her seed taking root inside Natalie. Though once arousal had settled down, she truly hoped it wouldn’t. That would be a whole lot of trouble. But it felt good to think about it in the moment.

Elwen reaches to pull Maronette into a kiss that is now truly just the two of them, now that they are alone and closed off from the world. Inside that house, that fortress, nobody can judge them. No one can reach them. That is their domain, and within those walls, everything belongs to them, and they can freely belong to each other. Their tongues dance together, wrestling and then finding a more harmonious pace, as Maronette’s shorter frame presses against Elwen’s, and she can feel the bodyguard’s aching desire for her. But some types of lustful desire are born in the body, and some are born in the heart, Elwen has learned, and Maronette’s lust for her right then and there is very much the former.

“Well… we still smell a little bit like your ex-girlfriend,” Elwen teases as they break from the kiss. “What do you say I draw a bath for the both of us?”

“I’d love nothing more,” Maronette says sincerely.

“Good. And maybe we can break into those expensive bathing salts I got at the alchemist last week.”

“Oh? And what’s the occasion?”

“I don’t know… I just have a good feeling things will work out. Come, love.”

Elwen takes her hand and begins to move towards the stairs to the second floor, where their bedroom and bathroom are, pulling her lover behind her and giggling like a teenager at the prospect of bathing together. She loves how young and innocent love makes her feel, even though she is less of both with each passing year. But as long as Maronette is around, she can feel at least a little bit of each, every day.

***

Maronette wakes up in their large couple’s bed the next morning, with her hair tossed all about her pillow and her naked body splayed over the sheets. Her eyes are still closed as she reaches down across the bed and towards where she expects to find the sleeping form of her lover. Only for her hand to go through the clear absence of Elwen and fall onto the mattress where she should be. Maronette reaches further into the bed and finally opens her good eye, only to spot the sun streaks piercing through the shutters, drawing golden lines across the mattress, and no sign of her lover anywhere. This is highly unusual. Elwen is many things, but a morning person has never been on the list. Maronette pushes herself up, and the sun streaks move across her skin and her naked breasts, as she tosses the sheets aside and uses her fingers to try to put a small modicum of order to her wild hair.

“Elwen?” she calls, half expecting to hear a response coming from their bathroom.

It is the most logical answer to her. That Elwen has got up in the morning to use the washroom, and Maronette just happened to be up while she was absent from the bed. But there is no response from the washroom, even as she calls again. With a mild frown, Maronette takes the ribbon from her dresser and ties her hair up in a messy bun, just to keep it mostly out of her face, before sliding naked out of bed.

Her thoughts go to the previous night. Sharing a bath with her wife, teasing her, and helping each other wash, while they forgot their troubles and concerns for a moment. It had all led them back towards the bed, and while they had somewhat patted themselves down to something approaching being dry, their hair was still a bit wet when they found themselves falling over each other on the sheets. Kissing with passion and desire, touching and exploring each other’s bodies with fingers and tongue, and for some reason, to Maronette, it felt a lot like the first few times they had had sex: that urge to get the other one off, to hear them moan, and that thrilling pleasure of knowing it was working when their hips bucked and their thighs contracted. And then to feel Elwen’s tongue licking the inside of her thighs, her nose brushing against her sensitive clit, and having her go down on her. She isn’t sure what is behind that sense of renewed intimacy, but she guesses it is the absolute trust they had to show each other to get through what they went through with Natalie. She can’t remember falling asleep, but she remembers clearly having the taller woman spoon her from behind as they cuddled afterward, and feeling that creeping exhaustion slowly take over.

Yes, they had definitely fallen asleep in the same bed, so… why isn’t Elwen there? And more importantly, where is she? Maronette takes the robe resting on a chair by the bedroom desk and wraps it around her as she exits the room.

“Elwen?” she calls from the mezzanine on the top of the stairs.

There is a brief silence, but before Maronette calls again, a voice comes from the small kitchen downstairs:

“In here.”

Relief washes over the bodyguard. She doesn’t have any reason to think something bad has happened, but Maronette’s mind always defaults to assuming danger in the absence of anything else. It’s what makes her a good bodyguard, and that is likely what is going to cause her hair to turn grey before her years, she reckons, as she walks down the stairs and towards the small kitchen area. The smell of fresh chamomile tea hangs in the air, and there’s a mug of it resting on the kitchen table. Elwen is there, also clad in a robe, but she’s not sitting down. Instead, she paces back and forth across the kitchen, moving from one end of it to the other and then back, her eyes fixed on the ground in front of her, but they might as well be staring a million miles away, as she is deep in thought.

“Elwen…” Maronette calls with concern. “Are you alright? You are looking a bit pale.”

“Yes… I just threw up.”

Maronette suddenly feels like things are making a bit more sense now. Chamomile tea is good for when one is feeling sick, and if Elwen is feeling nauseous, it stands to reason she got up to make herself some tea. But it doesn’t explain her impatient pacing around. Or why a lot of the tea sits on the kitchen table, only half drunk, and waiting.

“You could’ve brought the tea up to the room,” Maronette points out, ever practical. “The tiles here are cold, and you’re barefoot.”

“Maronette…” Elwen says, stopping her pacing with some impatience in her voice. “I felt sick this morning.”

“Yes, yes… you said so, Elwen,” Maronette says, matching her impatience and with a tone of confusion as well.

Why is she repeating that information? What does it have to do with the best place to take her tea, anyway?

“Maronette, listen to my words,” Elwen proposes. “This morning… I felt sick…”

Maronette frowns as she feels like she is missing something obvious about it. The way Elwen hits the words ‘morning’ and ‘sick’ with particular stress is likely to be the clue. Morning. Sick.

And then it all dawns on her, very fast and at once. Why she is pacing around. Why she is so nervous that she can’t even finish her tea. Maronette bites her lips and looks at her with hesitation before she finally gets the courage to ask, needing a moment to steel herself:

“Are you… pregnant?”

Elwen smiles, seemingly content that they have finally arrived at the same place, and she lifts her shoulders in a very slow shrug to admit her uncertainty. Fingers raise as she starts counting on them.

“I don’t know, but… I am a week and change late on my courses… I felt weirdly sick this morning, in a very pointed way…” she enumerates, adding, “Oh, and right… my girlfriend has been trying to breed me for a while now.”

The use of crude language causes a slight blush to rise across Maronette’s cheeks, but she doesn’t linger on it when there is something much more important being discussed.

“Wait, so… you are… pregnant then?”

“I think so, but I’m not sure…”

“Is there… a way to be sure? Or should we just wait?”

“I think I have a spell somewhere which can be used to divine the answer, but I need to look for it. Honestly? I wasn’t expecting things to work out this fast for us.”

“Me neither.”

Elwen looks at Maronette with a surprised and amused expression. Maronette doesn’t know why, of course. She reckons she said something utterly normal.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that, Elwen?”

“You just have… the biggest, broadest smile I have ever seen.”

Does she? Maronette hasn’t even realized it, but as Elwen speaks, she grows more aware of what her face is doing. She does have a big smile on her face. And then she decides that she’s done trying to be collected with her emotions, and she tosses her arms around her fiancée, pulling her into a tight hug that very quickly turns into an intense kiss. Their lips seal together and their bodies press, before Maronette breaks from it.

“By the Springtide, Elwen… My heart…”

“I know…” Elwen mutters, placing her hand over Maronette’s chest. “I can feel it.”

And then she takes Maronette’s hand and moves it down across her body, inside her robe, to have it rest on her stomach, just above where her womb is. Resting there and feeling where life might have just begun to grow.