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It has been a handful of months, now. Week upon week where the suspicion of her pregnancy slowly becomes an undeniable fact. (Y'shtola takes great delight in being the one to confirm it, the change in Luna’s aether something even the most advanced chirurgeon wouldn't have been able to detect as early as her dear friend.)
Yet she still gets a strange sort of thrill to look down at her body and see her belly extending past the rise of her breasts, still can't quite suppress a giddy laugh when her trousers no longer button.
It is everything she wants, and more.
But her husband is away.
G'raha departed two weeks previous on an important fact finding mission for the Students and the Scions (retired) both. Taking Alphinaud and Thancred as extra pairs of hands, they will be busy in Xak Tural for another week.
Which is fine. It serves her right, probably, that she now has to sit through his visit to the New World, no matter how many years later.
But every day, her body changes. It feels like an ilm on her waistband appears overnight, every night, leaving her sore and delighted both as she wakes up in an empty bed.
It feels like he's missing so much, even though he really isn’t.
She daydreams, hand over her belly and light streaming through the windows, of what his face will look like when he sees her, waiting in the harbour for him. How he might make her turn, this way and that, eyes fixed on where her body is changing to accommodate their child (their child!). She thinks of him kissing her in greeting, of him bending at the waist to kiss the bump that swells between her hip bones and she aches.
Stupid responsibilities. Damn her husband for being a loyal member of his order.
She makes her way from Limsa to Sharlayan a few days before G’raha is meant to return, intending to reconnect with friends and family. She has multiple lunch and dinner plans as well as afternoon tea with Ameliance in the diary, barely a moment free for her to breathe - which is precisely how she likes it.
Retirement has been good to her, but she can’t get rid of all her habits.
It’s her second day in the city, and she wanders from the Annex with a spring in her step after Krile lets her know that the team might be back early, making her way down to The Last Stand with a lighter heart than she’s had in a week.
Y’shtola and Alisaie are waiting for her, a bottle of wine on the table between them and a mug of orange juice in front of an empty seat. She sits down with a wide smile, but can’t stop her eyes from tracking back to the wine.
“That’s very cruel of you.” She sighs, sipping at her drink.
“Oh, we’re supposed to give up our vices because you decided to procreate?” Alisaie huffs. “I don’t really see how that’s our problem.”
Alisaie has been flourishing in recent years, striking out on her own and insisting quite convincingly that she doesn't need any help, ever, actually, thank you very much. But it hasn’t escaped Luna’s notice that she’s not left Sharlayan since the Scions were let into their little baby-shaped secret. Add to that their frequent discussions of whether she’d rather be ‘Aunt Alisaie’ or ‘Big Sister Alisaie’ to the little bundle of joy, and Luna knows better than to think her little act is anything but just that.
“You could do it in the privacy of your own homes…”
“Oh, like you and Ra—.”
Alisaie breaks off with a yelp, and from the dirty look she shoots Y'shtola, Luna can easily determine the reason why.
“So, how are you?” Y’shtola asks, reaching out to cover Luna’s hand with her own. “You seem well. The little one’s aether is shining bright.”
“And it’s still not familiar is it?” Luna asks, always a little concerned by the answer. Knowing their luck, there’s every chance they're about to birth the reincarnation of one of their oldest foes.
Y’shtola smiles and shakes her head a little. “No, no. It’s brand new, to my eyes.”
“Thank goodness for that.”
They order a frankly unnecessary amount of food, but Luna’s been ravenous almost since she discovered the pregnancy, not afflicted by any of the typical sicknesses that she’s heard about from other women. It is a blessed thing, and probably a large part of why her body is changing so rapidly - their baby is nothing if not well-fed.
Alisaie is halfway through a story about Alphinaud that Luna is certain she doesn’t have permission to share when a ship’s bell rings out from some distance away. Everyone in the city is used to the arrival and departure of ships, so barely any heads turn. Alisaie doesn’t even stop in her story, and it’s only a flash of bright light on the horizon that draws Luna’s attention away, curious, a bit irritated at the distraction.
It is, of course, the perfect timing to spot a crimson-haired Miqo’te looking out over the side of the ship.
“No.” She laughs. “Surely not.”
Alisaie frowns, then turns to look in the same direction and slams her hands on the table in surprise. “They’re early! He’s always interrupting our quality time, how dare he.”
Luna laughs, wiping her mouth on her napkin and slowly getting to her feet, leaning down to press a kiss to Alisaie’s cheek. “Don’t worry, we have tea with your mother tomorrow, how about we go shopping afterwards? You’re still my special girl, Alisaie.”
“That’s right.” She says, chin lifted high in defiance. “I am.”
Y’shtola accepts her embrace with a lot more ease than she used to, patting Luna’s back and humming in satisfaction as they part. “Tell Thancred to meet me here to debrief. If he hurries there might even be some wine left.”
“Will do.” Luna says, chuckling softly to herself. “See you ladies later.”
She walks across the harbour purposely slowly, despite her desire to rush towards her husband - it’ll take a while for the ship to make port, and she doesn’t want to be standing around and attracting attention for too long. If she was conspicuous before all this happened, the changing shape of her body has only made her more so.
By the time she arrives at the Worldly Affairs desk, the gangplank is in the process of being lowered, so she tucks herself against a pillar and waits, wondering if her loved ones will be the first ones off, or if they’ll linger knowing they have an easy route through immigration.
The truth of her husband’s patience is, of course, that it is situational. Put him in a boring meeting and he will be content for hours. But if he spends more than a day away from her?
It’s no shock to her, then, that the first face she sees walking out of the gloom of the ship’s hull is her husband, hitching his pack higher and waving over his shoulder at his travelling companions. She has no doubt he plans on rushing to the aetheryte - how nice it will be, to surprise him in turn.
Her linkpearl chimes almost as soon as he’s put his feet on dry land, and she answers it with a broad smile.
“Husband.”
“Wife.” He smiles, always so delighted to be able to use the term for her. “I didn’t want to raise your hopes, but we’ve just docked in Sharlayan. I’ll be home in a heartbeat, my love.”
“Oh, I know.”
“You…” He stops, and she just about holds in a laugh. “You know?”
“You’re not the only one capable of surprises darling.” She says, then steps out into the path. He’s looking around enough that she only has to wave for him to spot her, and his face. What a picture.
“Luna!”
The call is loud enough that it turns more than a few heads, but they only have eyes for each other as G’raha rushes towards her, picking her up easily and twirling her around until she’s screwing her eyes shut against a bout of fierce dizziness.
“Oh, I missed you.” He says as he sets her down, holding her tight by her upper arms. “Are you well? Both of you?”
“We’re both very well, darling.” She says, cheeks aching with the force of her smile.
“Let me take a look at you.” He breathes, sliding his grip down to her hands and stepping back to do just that.
His eyes go all wide as he uses his grip on her to turn her to and fro, his gaze settled firmly on her stomach, then her breasts (which is reassuring, she had thought they were growing) and then back to her stomach.
“By the Twelve.” He murmurs. “And it’s been little more than a fortnight… is this…” Words fail him for a moment, before he gives a little helpless shrug. “Normal?”
“Well, I haven’t been pregnant before.” She reminds him, gently teasing, watching him narrow his eyes in response. “But I feel well. Healthy, thriving even. There’s just a little more of me now than there used to be.”
“And every ilm of it perfection.” G’raha says, full of fervour. “Dear heart, I fear we might attract an audience ere long, were I to admire you the way I wish to.”
Luna grins, sidling a little closer, pressing up against his chest and feeling the way her belly makes contact just a bit sooner than it used to. She embraces him, presses a kiss just below his jaw and inhales the scent of salt and sweat that comes from a long sea journey.
Within what feels like a heartbeat, Thancred is clearing his throat beside them and Luna abandons G’raha in favour of hugging him instead, smiling when he makes a little oof of effort when she collides with him.
“One word about my weight and I’ll rescind your uncle title.” Luna hisses, and he’s smiling all too wide when he steps back.
“I wouldn’t dare.” Thancred sniffs, but his amusement more than gives him away. “That you think so little of me…”
Luna rolls her eyes, turning to Alphinaud and hugging him too, still not quite used to having to reach up to do so.
“You seem well, my friend.” He says. “And I hope all’s been well in our absence?”
“Decidedly so.” She nods. “I just came from lunch with your sister, actually, mere moments ago. You might still catch her if you hurry - Y’shtola is waiting for you there.” She adds to Thancred. “She said there’d be wine if you’re not tardy.”
Thancred snorts, clapping Alphinaud on the back. “Let’s go see. And leave the lovebirds to tend their little nest.”
G’raha shakes hands with both men as they leave, but his eyes are back on her as soon as he can possibly manage it, his smile practically blinding. “I suppose you must be staying at the Annex?”
“I am, in our old room. I have passage back to Limsa booked in three days’ time - I apologise that it’ll be a while until we’re home again, but someone protests about our speedy travel for a few more months.”
“My love.” G’raha chuckles, linking their fingers tight. “I would walk home if it would ensure your safety.”
She can’t help the laugh that escapes her at that, tugging on his hand and starting them walking back into the city. “A bold promise, but not one I expect you to uphold, darling. You’d get rather soggy.”
They waltz past the Worldly Affairs official in a move that feels just a little brazen, considering her first arrival into the city, but she’s smug and frankly terrible about it now, and if they want to follow up then gods know they know where to find them.
They wave at the table of their friends as they pass, almost getting all of the way up the steps before Thancred lets out a piercing wolf whistle. Luna turns sharply, reaches for the weapon on her back that isn’t there at the moment of course it’s not, and watches her dear friend’s eyes light up with a sort of glee that she’s going to be paying for, soon enough.
“Bastard.” She says, loud enough for only G’raha to hear but enunciated enough for Thancred to surely see.
“I’ll have you know.” G’raha interrupts her staring contest, moving in close enough to speak quietly in her ear. “While we were away, he was quite the doting uncle-to-be. He knows quite a lot about childcare, it turns out, and was very concerned about your health.”
Luna softens a little at this knowledge, at the confirmation that her almost-brother is just being an arse for the sake of it. “Well in that case, he can be first on nappy duty when we need a break.”
G’raha snorts and pulls her away just as Thancred toasts her with his glass, and she forces her tail not to give away her lingering annoyance as they continue their climb to the Annex.
“Is Krile in?” G’raha asks, once they walk through the door. “I suppose I should—.”
“Dearest.” Luna interrupts, stepping in as intentionally as is proper in public. “It’s been two weeks.”
“Oh!” He blinks, ears standing straight up. “Oh, of course. In which case, I uh…”
“Come, husband.” She pulls him over to the door, ignoring Ojika’s knowing eye. “At least unpack first.”
“Yes, right. Unpacking. Absolutely.”
They make it to the room like a pair of entirely innocent adults, but almost as soon as the door is shut behind them, Luna finds herself pinned to its closed surface, G’raha’s pack making an ungodly noise as it falls to the floor, forgotten.
“Let me admire you.” He says, as if she’ll ever ever say no.
He pushes up her top, something purposely loose that she’d chosen that would only show off her stomach if you were really looking for it. G’raha lets out a wounded little noise at the sight of her belly, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to the proud jut of it.
“No more trips.” He utters like an oath to their growing child.
“No more.” Luna echoes.
He oh-so-gently passes her the bunched up material to take care of, then starts to shimmy down her trousers, not commenting on the fact that the lacing of them is a lot looser than it used to be, too. He takes her underwear with them, which tells her more than enough about his intentions, and spurs her on to pull the clothing off of her top half as well.
G’raha’s touch is reverent as it traces over her belly, tender as he pushes slightly just to watch the skin move - something she’s done many a time already. “I’ve heard that when they grow, you can see the motion through your skin.”
“I’ve heard the same.” Luna replies, her voice kept low and soft so as not to interrupt his little act of worship. “I think we are quite some way off from that yet but I can’t wait for it, Raha.”
His gaze flicks up to her, settling on where her hands have settled just over her ribs. She can see the way his pupils dilate and his tail swishes an eager little pattern behind him, and smiles.
Her husband has always been a breast man - though she expects he would protest that he loves every part of her equally.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” She asks, because she wants to hear him admit the redirection of his attention, just a little bit.
“I’m so used to your body being… a weapon. A tool.” He says, musing, considerate. It is a discussion they have had many a time. “That it is capable of such changes astounds me. To be able to watch them happen, to appreciate each one as it brings us closer to our child, I…” He shakes his head. “I adore you.”
“I adore you.” She murmurs, feeling emotion ball up in her throat at his simple way with his love for her. “You are allowed to enjoy the fact that my chest is growing larger though, you know. In fact, I encourage it.”
G’raha laughs at her deflection, pressing up to bury his face between her breasts, nuzzling against her sternum and all but growling with delight at the softness of them surrounding him. When he pulls back, he kisses each in turn and then settles back onto his heels.
“I could busy myself there for hours, I fear.” He murmurs. “But for now, I have other intentions. Spread your legs for me, love.”
She is powerless to ignore his request, and would be if it had been mere hours since they last saw each other. But after weeks apart, her body is thrumming with a desire for him that she suspects will not be easily sated.
G’raha’s fingers slip between her folds, a quiet moan escaping her at the same time as he presses a breathless kiss into her thigh. His touch feels different now, like so many things, sensitive in a new way, a lovely way, especially now that she has settled into her pregnancy. She feels herself grow significantly slicker as he toys with her, nudging her clit with his knuckles and then sliding into the heat of her easily.
“Luna, by the gods.” He breathes, nudging her right leg further open and running his tongue over her inner thigh. “I see that you missed me indeed.”
A snicker escapes her, and she hooks her leg eagerly over his shoulder. “Oh you flatter yourself, husband.”
“Do I indeed?” He murmurs, eyes all but sparkling as they gaze at her. “Is it not time apart that has you this drenched?”
“Perhaps it is simply that you are teasing me, beloved. After so very long without you.”
G’raha grins, biting softly at her inner thigh as his fingers curl and beckon within her cunt. It lights her up, delicious pleasure licking through her body and when his thumb swirls against her clit she shivers apart in a quick, tingling orgasm with a throaty gasp of his name.
“There.” He says, leaning in to lap at the slick that’s no doubt shining on her thighs. “Perhaps that will go some way towards making up for my absence.”
“Some way.” She breathes, reaching down to pull him up. “But it was hardly your finest hour, nor mine.”
G’raha stands easily, reaching his arms around her and pulling her away from the door. He walks backwards, Luna fitting her feet on top of his boots and for one very fleeting moment imagining him guiding their daughter (she’s almost certain, even with no evidence) in a silly little dance.
Then he sits down on the bed and pulls her into his lap and such thoughts are easily lost in favour of watching him admire her once more.
“You went somewhere.” He says, cupping the weight of her belly. “Somewhere nice?”
“Somewhere lovely.” She murmurs, stroking his fringe out of his face. “Just thinking about what a wonderful father you’re going to be.”
He often wears a look now, ever since she let him know she had missed her menses for the second month in a row. Faintly awed, either by her or by the prospect of what their life will soon become. Luna cups his cheek and leans down to kiss him, feeling his smile melt beneath her lips.
“And you…” He says, when they part. “Will be a wonderful mother.”
The scant height she has on him when she sits across his thighs like this puts him on a perfect level with her breasts once more, a fortuitous happenstance given the brevity of his earlier attention. He blinks up at her, lips curling up at the edges before they part and he leans forward to slowly encircle her nipple.
“Oh!” She yelps, the sound trailing into a moan that catches in her throat as he starts to suck. “Gods, Raha.”
“Good?”
His lips catch her nipple in a way that makes her twitch, too much all at once and does he have to look so damn pleased with himself?
“Gods, I need… you need to be careful with me, beloved.” She urges, fitting her fingers into his hair at the base of each ear.
“Oh? Sensitive?”
“Yes, sensitive. That’s… that’s new.”
“While I wonder if now is the right time for experimentation…” G’raha says, lapping at her skin even as she tugs on his ears. “There is a not small part of me that desires to see if I could bring you to completion from this alone.”
“I suspect you could.” Luna whines, guiding him over to the other side when her cunt throbs with oversensitivity at his continued attention. “I…”
“Tell me, dear heart.” He urges, when she trails off. “There need be no secrets, no hesitation between the pair of us, you know that.”
She rocks her hips down, finds his hardness pressing against her and can't stifle an irritated whine at the way her body can't quite decide what it wants. Slipping one of her hands down, she presses it between them and squeezes him, just to feel him gasp against her.
“I want… I want so much. I want you in me, husband, but I want to play. I want you to toy with me and bring me pleasure in new and exciting ways, just because we can.”
“There's nothing stopping us from that, my love. Here.” He says, patting her thigh and then urging her to climb off him despite her grumbling and clutching hands. “Peace, Luna. I won't leave you waiting long.”
She immediately falls onto her back when he stands, and reaches a hand down between her legs to make him regret every moment he's not touching her instead. His eyes narrow as he starts to pull off his clothes and she grins as each ilm of his skin is exposed, a deeper golden brown than she had reckoned on, despite his trip west. She stifles a chuckle when he pulls off his undershirt and exposes a striking contrast between the skin of his chest and that on his arms.
“Was there not much cause for shirtlessness darling?”
G'raha chuckles, working quickly at his belt as he steps out of his boots. “I apologise for ruining your fantasies of our expedition, but we did all remain mostly clothed.”
“Mostly, indeed.” She grins. “A Miqo'te, a Hyur and an Elezen walk into a desert…”
“What luck that we were not in one of Shaaloani's bawdy plays.” He snickers, passing a hand over his cock as he walks back to the bed. “Else the outcome could have been much different.”
“I've seen how Thancred looks at you.” She says, inspiring a force of laughter in her husband that almost has him toppling over when he tries to join her once more. “Too far?”
“There are far better things to be talking about right now than Thancred Waters.” G'raha says, sitting down against the headboard and patting his lap. “A universal truth, I believe.”
Luna rolls her eyes when he makes no moves to help her. She mutters something about having to do everything herself as she rolls onto her side and pushes up, the extra weight in her middle something she is only just adjusting to. She walks over to him on her knees, crawling over his lap and canting her hips so that her belly precedes her.
“Hello, beautiful.” G'raha murmurs, his hands still big enough to cover the swell of her, just. He squeezes, only having eyes for her belly. “I need to borrow your mother for a while.”
Luna smiles and holds his chin, lifting his gaze up to her. “Raha.”
“Yes, love?”
“Don’t talk to our daughter when I’m waiting for you to fuck me.”
He doesn’t mention her choice of words (they’ve talked about it too much for him to be surprised) but he does smirk at her, nipping at the thumb pressed to his lower lip and then pulling away from her to attend to her breasts once more.
She forces herself up against him, trapping his cock between their bellies with an ease that she finds a little dizzying. G’raha sucks at her, alternating sides with eager attentiveness, and it is just as lovely as it was before, only now she has the warmth of his skin pressed to hers and she thinks she might just break from how good it feels.
“Delicious.” He murmurs. “The taste of your skin, the sweetness of you…”
“My love.” She echoes. “Please.”
He doesn’t tease her any longer. Simply dedicates himself to his work in the way only G’raha has ever proved himself capable of, sucking and lapping and kneading her breasts with open hunger. She can’t help the needy little motions of her hips, the way she searches for something she could so easily have if she weren’t committed instead to truly testing his hypothesis.
She focuses on the sweet way his brow knits together as he thinks about his actions, as he plots out which breast to attend to, which to favour based on how it makes her shiver and shake. Luna clutches at him, pulling on his hair and feeling her slick drip down her thighs to make a mess of him in turn.
G'raha sucks her nipple and opens his eyes to catch her staring at him, the edges of them crinkling in pleasure at whatever expression she wears. He hums and she jolts, tugging sharply on the caught strands of his hair. His cock jerks against her belly and she whines at causing it, at the fact her pleasure inspires his, so perfectly in sync, like always.
“How do you fare?” He asks, breath tickling her spit-slick skin.
Luna just about stops herself from rolling her eyes. “Am I not dripping enough for you, my love? Do you need me to make my moans more audible?”
The smile that crosses his face is smug, a little mean in a way that makes her shiver. “I simply meant to check in with you, beloved. I can sense, however, that I should be an obedient lover and revert to my task.”
“I believe you should.” She manages, a moment before he returns to his cause and her head fills with static and want once more.
It builds like a wave. The heat that settles in her core, the slick sounds of his appreciation, the scent of his sweat and sea-salt filling her senses. She rides his lap, pleasure licking out along her limbs as she pulses around nothing, no stimulation beyond the grinding of her cunt against him and his lips and teeth grazing her skin.
“Gods Raha.” She groans, nails digging into his scalp as she searches for that spark, the catalyst to push her over.
He hums, switching sides and enclosing her nipple. Then he bites, and the sharp hint of pain from his teeth is it, sending her sobbing into release. She floats on it, drifting in a sea of giddy sensation as G’raha holds her steady as ever, allowing her to revel in how good it feels, how right, how delicious in every sense of the word.
By the time she can breathe again, panting notwithstanding, she cracks her eyes open and finds G’raha watching her with unrepentant adoration, his lips slick with spit and curled up into a beautiful expression of satisfaction.
“It is rather lovely to be proven right.”
Luna sighs, and G’raha leans up to kiss away her pout before it can truly form.
“But not as lovely as you.”
“Ohhh.” She laughs. “All this charm. It’s as if you want something from me?”
G’raha smiles softly, taking a hold of her hips and then changing his grip to hold her bump once more. “I would never expect anything.”
“Sometimes you are too gallant, my love.” She says, lifting up and shifting onto her knees beside him. She reaches down and fists his cock, angry red at the tip and leaking, just from bringing her pleasure. “But my back has been tight, so perhaps you can help me stretch it out.”
He watches, eyes wide and unblinking, as she settles down onto her elbows and cants her hips up, stretching out with a rumbling purr of satisfaction as several points in her back pop deliciously.
“I think that’s something I can manage.” He laughs, palming her arse in one hand. “It’ll be a hardship though.”
“A terrible hardship, of course.” She says. “I understand, and respect your sacrifice.”
She moans happily when he finally slots up behind her, when his cock slides easily along the slick folds of her cunt, probing but not making any real effort to fill her.
“Don’t keep me waiting, husband.”
G’raha presses a kiss to the back of her shoulder, and she feels his knuckles brush along her as he takes himself in hand. “The last time you said that, we ended up in quite the predicament.”
She can’t stifle the laugh that escapes her, even if it fades into a moan at the first press of his cock, the familiar and all too recently lacking sensation that always drives her just a little out of her mind.
“Don’t lie to me.” She gasps, as his hips meet her arse and his hands settle on the new roundness of her hips. “You wouldn’t change it for the world.”
His hips move in slow, indulgent thrusts, none of the undeniable urgency fuelling him now that he’s finally inside her. He makes a quiet, considering noise as the bed creaks underneath them, then squeezes her hip tight and grinds in hard.
“No. I can’t say I would.”
Luna feels more of the lingering tension leave her as G'raha continues to fuck her, her body growing heavier as pleasure blooms where they're joined.
“I was - ah - mostly joking about my back but…” She groans, letting her head fall forward to rest on the pillows. “This is actually helping.”
G’raha snickers, losing his rhythm a little as he places one hand on her lower back and rubs tenderly. “I look forward to the days when you need a massage every morning. When our little one is troublesome but I can take away some of the pain.”
“I knew you were just like all the other men.” She gripes, with no heat, punctuated by desperate gasps as he lights her up once more. “You just want me to be dependent on you.”
“Never.” He murmurs, harsh, insistent. “But were you to be. It would be my honour to take care of you, my love.”
She thinks, briefly, as sense starts to flee and G’raha’s thrusts grow ever more intent, that they must make a pretty picture. Her breasts and belly hanging, G’raha’s fingers biting into her skin, his cock slick from his arousal and her own as it moves inside her. His arse and back pulling tight with each thrust.
She considers their bedroom back home, the mirror on her dresser…
“I want…” She manages. “I wish to see us, like this. When I am bigger, and this is all I can manage when the hunger grows too great…”
The hand on her lower back skates higher, then around to tweak at her nipples, to weigh her breasts in an eager, grasping hand.
“We can make that happen, love.” He says. “Wicked white, yes, we must make that happen.”
G’raha murmurs her name over and over, touches turning greedy and harsh as he fucks her hard and deep and comes with a cry that is, perhaps, too loud for the halls of the Annex, if either of them cared a jot about being a nuisance. Luna endures the little jumping rocks of his hips as he draws out his release, her body too stimulated to follow, but delighting in his pleasure all the same.
The loss of him when he pulls out is not so great as she feared, when she was without him. He lies down beside her, chest red from exertion, the pair of them covered in sweat and slick, and she can think of nothing she wants more than to keep touching him. He lifts an arm for her as soon as the thought forms, and it is still easy enough to shift onto her side and tuck her leg over his, thigh nudging his softening cock and stealing a yelping grumble from him.
“Do you think we have made up for the time apart?” He asks, speaking the words into the scales on her forehead.
“Well, it’s certainly a start. When we’re home, in our own bed…” She hums, scratching her nails over his stomach. “I think we can really make sure.”
His laugh tickles the strands of hair that have fallen loose of her braid, and she clutches him just a little tighter.
“Bath?” He offers, after their silence has stretched on far enough to risk them falling asleep in the middle of the day.
“Mm.” Luna purrs, not moving, despite the appeal of the idea. “I think you’ve rarely had a better idea, husband.”
His hand settles on her stomach and she covers it quickly with her own, his open adoration of every ilm of her something she will never grow tired of.
“Oh I’ve had a few.” He says. “Just a few, of course, but I have to say… I am rather proud of them.”