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“Cheers, everyone!”
The sounds of clinking glasses and braying laughter ring through The Flagship. Some merchant is treating the tavern to a round. Nefer eyes the man suspiciously from her booth in the corner. He is surrounded by a group of his employees, though ‘lackeys’ would probably be a more apt description for them. They stare up at the man with a cult-like devotion, slurping the foam off the tops of their beers as their boss tells them stories about his business. More drinking and chortling noises ensue.
A waiter passes by Nefer’s booth to hand her a beer as well, but she declines. Her ears prick up as the man starts to boast about selling his wares directly to the Tsaritsa. Going by his look and general demeanour, he appears to hale from Fontaine, but his lackeys are a ragtag bunch: fellow Fontainians, a couple of Natlecs, and even a woman who looks distinctly Inazuman. People from all over Teyvat tend to gather in Nod-Krai, but this specific combination is one Nefer has not seen before.
For the past three days, Jahoda shadowed the group, but her report back to Nefer included nothing about their wares. When questioned about it, Jahoda recalled that it was a kind of technology, but that was it. The information is useless without further details. Fontainian merchants usually peddle technology of sorts. What matters is what kind. Him selling it to the Tsaritsa would narrow it down a bunch, but men like him were often prone to exaggerating when under the influence of alcohol and a crowd.
“You seem deep in thought.” Lauma approaches Nefer’s booth. “Am I interrupting?”
“Miss Moonchanter, my apologies. I was expecting you ten minutes from now.” Nefer smiles politely as Lauma sinks into the seat across from her.
“I hope you don’t mind me being early.” Lauma waves over a waiter. “The trip from Hiisi Island went by faster than usual.”
As Lauma orders drinks for the both of them, Nefer’s eyes flit between her and the man a few booths over. His lackeys look tipsy. Lauma smiles at the waiter, tiny crinkles appearing next to her eyes. One of the lackeys balances his tankard on top of his head. Lauma pushes her hair behind her ears, the jewel hanging from her antlers tinkling softly. The tankard falls and beer splashes across the floor tiles. Lauma turns around, surveys the scene, and chuckles. She turns back to Nefer.
“I didn’t know there would be live entertainment.”
“Hopefully, they’ll quiet down soon,” Nefer sighs. “I would’ve invited you to the Curatorium if I’d known they were going to be so loud.”
Lauma chuckles again. “I must say, I was surprised by your choice of venue for a business meeting. The Curatorium seems like a more obvious place to meet-up.”
“I had other business to attend to here, so this location made more sense in the moment.”
The waiter returns and sets down two hurricane glasses. The liquid inside both of them has an ombré effect to it, bright blue at the top fading into white at the bottom. A cocktail stick sits on the rim of each glass, a few lakkaberries speared upon them. Nefer frowns at the drinks. “What did you order us exactly?”
“Moonlight Delights” Lauma smiles. “Varka roped me into coming here a while ago and insisted I’d drink with him. I don’t hold my liquor well as he does though. Luckily, the Traveller was kind enough to mix up one of these. It’s sweetened milk with a splash of fermented lakkaberry juice. You should try it.” Lauma gestures towards the glasses.
Nefer pulls one of the glasses towards her and takes a sip. The drink is sweet, but not overly so. She and Lauma definitely have different definitions of ‘a splash’ though. The flavour of the fermented lakkaberry juice is pronounced enough to give Nefer flashbacks to the zaytun peach liquor that was ever so popular with students back when she was still studying at the Akademiya.
“It’s good,” she says to an expectant Lauma. “Not many can say they have a cocktail dedicated to them.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
For some time, Nefer and Lauma talk over their drinks. They speak of the new Council that has come to govern Nod-Krai, the weather, and a group of musicians which is supposed to come to Nasha Town from Snezhnograd. It’s idle chatter, but Nefer finds herself enjoying the conversation regardless. Soon, one Moonlight Delight turns into two. Then three. By then, Nefer has lost track of the merchant and his lackeys. She’ll seek them out again tomorrow.
“Anyway,” Nefer starts. “I need you to make Jahoda into a Frostmoon Scion.”
Lauma almost spits out her drink, and laughs. The action makes the jewel on her antlers tinkle again. The tops of Lauma’s breasts jiggle where they peek out over her dress. Nefer quickly averts her eyes and tries to focus on her drink. “It would only have to be for a day.”
“Why, Nefer?” Lauma hiccoughs, still laughing. “Why didn’t you tell me before that your employee was so interested in the teachings of Kuutar?”
“Because she is not.” Nefer takes a sip of her drink. “One of my clients need a ‘real Moonchild’ to do something for him. I told him I’d ask around. Normally, I would’ve declined his commission immediately, but he has some… valuable information.”
“Why didn’t you send him to me directly? Surely, I’m real enough for him?”
“The work he needs taken care of is not exactly ethical.”
“I see,” Lauma responds. “I fear I can’t help you though. Even if Jahoda worshipped Kuutar, it would not make her a Frostmoon Scion. She’d need to be born and raised within the tribe for that.”
“Pity. In that case, I’m not asking you to actually convert her. Simply give her a blessing and let her know how she can best act like she’s one of you.”
Lauma is on her third drink as well. Her cheeks are flushed. The redness has spread down her neck, all the way to her decolletage. With this much alcohol in her blood, it is more difficult for Nefer to tear her eyes away from it. She doesn’t usually let herself drink this much. Since she is basically at work all hours of the day, it is important to stay alert. Not to mention the fact that it’s considered impolite to stare at people’s breasts.
“If that’s good enough for your client, I could do that. Though, I’m not sure how I feel about a fake Frostmoon Scion doing something unethical.”
“I promise it won’t affect your reputation. And, you’ll be compensated.”
Lauma holds up one of her hands. “No need. Consider it a favour.”
Nefer shakes her head. “ I’ve told you before that the worst thing a person can owe is a favour. I’ll make sure to get you Mora, or whatever else you may need.”
“Can I think on it?”
“Of course.” Nefer finishes her drink. “Unfortunately, I must tuck in for the night. I have another appointment in the morning.”
Lauma promptly gets up from her seat. “Let me walk you to the Curatorium.”
Nefer slides out of the booth as well. “That’s not necessary. It’s not far at all.”
“Indulge me, Nefer. It’s a nice night out, and I don’t get to see Nasha Town at night all that often.” Lauma gestures towards her own empty glass. “Besides, I’d like to sober up a little.”
A ‘no’ forms on Nefer’s lips, but never leaves her mouth. Now that both of them are standing up, not staring at Lauma’s cleavage has gone from difficult to near impossible. If Nefer looks straight ahead, her gaze lands only a little above Lauma’s breasts. Although both of them wear high heels, Lauma is much taller than her, even without the antlers. Nefer slightly tilts her head to look at Lauma’s face instead. Lauma is looking at her intently. She must have noticed the staring.
Nefer sighs. “Fine. Let me pay for the drinks.”
Having paid, Nefer and Lauma make their way out of The Flagship. Together, they walk around Nasha Town, taking the long way to the Curatorium. The moon in the sky is full as always. The night breeze carries smells of the entire city. Salt from the nearby ocean. Metal shavings and the embers from Lyulka’s forge. The ever present scent of the kuuvakhi lights, like that of the Desert air just before a storm hits. After a few circles, they come to a stop in front of the Adventurer’s Guild.
“It is a nice night out,” Nefer admits. “Feeling any more sober?”
Lauma stares up at the sky. “I think so.”
Nefer lets herself follow Lauma’s gaze. A couple of stars blink down at them. Due to light pollution, there are fewer than Nefer would like. Back when she was younger, the Desert sky was one of the prettiest sights she’d ever seen. Black as soot— but with a velvet depth to it, tiny pinpricks of lights at so many different distances and intervals, it looked like the world itself glittered. Nasha Town’s sky pales in comparison, so Nefer looks back at Lauma.
“I should really head towards the Curatorium now.”
Lauma nods and wordlessly follows Nefer across the square, towards the ramp leading up to the Curatorium’s entrance. They walk slowly, one behind the other. Nefer has almost made it up all the way when it happens: Lauma yelps. Nefer feels the fabric of her dress being pulled taut, a hand grazing her ankle. She teeters. Her arms instinctively stretched out, she falls forward. The impact of the fall thrums through Nefer’s wrists, and she bites her lip to refrain from crying out. What was that?
There is a swish of someone sliding down the ramp. Tinkling. The clangs of metal reverberating. As quick as she can, Nefer gets up and turns around. Lauma is on her hands and knees at the bottom of the ramp. Nefer hurries down. “What happened? Are you okay?”
What is she supposed to do now? Nefer has some standard first-aid knowledge, but she isn’t a healer— Lauma is! Nefer has no idea how to set a broken bone, or how to deal with internal bleeding, or fractured skulls, or punctured lungs, or— Lauma stands up. She takes a moment to check over all of her extremities, then wobbles. She points at her right foot.
“My heel broke!”
Nefer looks at Lauma’s foot. The heel of one of her stringy sandals is missing. Nefer scans their surroundings, and finds the broken heel lying a few metres away. It must have skittered away after it snapped off. Nefer walks over to it and picks it up. As she’s walking back, she notices the telltale glint of blood in the moonlight. Lauma’s knee is bleeding.
“Can you make it up, you think? We should get your knee cleaned up.”
Lauma stares at her knee, then at Nefer.
“I’m so sorry, Nefer,” she frets. “I was looking at the stars, and then I think I tried to grab onto you. If I’d been looking where—”
“That doesn’t matter now. Can you make it up?”
Lauma nods. Very carefully, both of them stumble up the ramp. Lauma uses Nefer’s shoulder to keep herself steady. Her hand is warm and soft against Nefer’s skin. An unfortunate, overexcited part of her revels in the skin-to-skin contact. Most of the time she doesn’t want to be touched, but she is human and slightly tipsy, and Lauma has been on her mind all evening. Curse the Moonchanter for being exactly her type.
Nefer unlocks the door to the Curatorium. She leaves Lauma and the broken-off heel on one of the yellow sofas. She retrieves a towel, a bottle of water, and a bottle of alcohol from her office. She sets everything down on the coffee table. Before drenching one corner of the towel with the water, Nefer takes off her gloves. She sits down next to Lauma and starts swiping at her knee.
“Nefer, I know how to clean a wound,” Lauma chuckles.
“Please, you helped me too when I injured my eyes.”
Water mixes with blood, the corner of the towel quickly turning red. Yes, Lauma had helped her find her way when her eyes were hurt, but this level of proximity is new to them. They are so close together, Nefer’s arm pressed against Lauma’s as she tries to wipe away the blood. Being leaned over like this, being this close to Lauma, it takes active effort to stay focused. Nefer can smell the perfume the Moonchanter wears and the sweet, fermented lakkaberry juice on her breath. Would her lips taste of it too?
Nefer lifts the towel for a second. The wound looks like a scrape. Lauma’s knee must’ve grazed the ramp as she slid down. Nefer wets another corner of the towel with alcohol. Quickly scanning Lauma’s body, trying not to stare at certain bits for too long, Nefer’s eyes fall on Lauma’s foot again. The right one — the one with the broken shoe stuck to it— is inflamed. Its skin is erubescent, and her ankle is starting to swell.
Nefer swears. “You sprained your ankle.”
Shoving the towel into Lauma’s hands, Nefer gets off the sofa. She pushes the coffee table aside and kneels. Her fingers hover over Lauma’s shin for a moment before getting to work on unfastening all the strings and straps that make up Lauma’s heels. Lauma flinches as soon as Nefer’s fingers brush against her legs.
“Never thought I'd see the mighty Nefer on her knees for me,” Lauma jests.
Flirting? Nefer looks up. Lauma is gorgeous from this angle— or any angle, really. Her eyes are impossibly blue. The flush from in the Flagship seemed to have gone down during their walk, but is now back in full force. Interesting. Nefer runs her nails down Lauma’s calf. It does not have the same effect as it would’ve had if her gloves had still been on, but Lauma shivers regardless.
“And I never thought you'd fall for me, but I guess I didn't take the possibility of a broken shoe into account,” Nefer quips in return. “Now put that towel on that scrape.”
Lauma’s shoe slides off her foot. Nefer’s hands move to the other, uninjured foot. There is no medical reason for her to be doing this. Lauma inhales sharply as the alcohol comes into contact with her knee. The noise makes Nefer want to rake her nails over Lauma’s legs again, just to see what it would take for her to draw the same sound from her. Instead, Nefer gently brushes her fingers against Lauma’s skin as she slowly unties her other shoe.
A sigh leaves Lauma’s mouth as it comes off. Nefer does not get up. Her hands wrap around Lauma’s uninjured foot, rubbing small circles into the sole with her thumbs. Slowly, her hands start to traverse upwards, massaging Lauma’s ankle, her shin, her calf. Lauma lets out small noises: soft moans and small sighs. Nefer pauses when she reaches Lauma’s knee. Any further up than this, and they’d reach a territory that was far from platonic.
“Nefer?” Lauma lilts. “About the compensation...”
Lauma throws the towel towards the coffee table and draws her knees apart, opening her legs.
“Can you…? Would you…?” she stutters.
Lauma’s face has gone even redder than before. A grin spreads across Nefer’s face. It’s been a while since she’s last eaten someone out, but surely it’s not a skill one forgets? Her fingers rove over Lauma’s legs, grabbing at every piece of flesh she can get her hands on. Nefer plants a kiss on the top of Lauma’s thigh. A lip-gloss imprint of her lips stays behind.
“Sounds good to me.”
Nefer kisses her way up the insides of Lauma’s thighs. Her head disappears underneath Lauma’s dress while her hands spread Lauma’s legs further apart. Her nose bumps against Lauma’s underwear and takes in the smell. Her mouth waters as her fingers slide the silky fabric to the side. Lauma is hairy down here, just the way Nefer likes it. She kisses around Lauma’s labia, feasting on the shaky breaths she can hear Lauma take.
The first lick across her vulva makes Lauma twitch, but as Nefer continues her ministrations, filthy, wet noises start to fill up the room. Lauma’s labia swells, but Nefer manoeuvres her tongue in-between the folds to get to all the good parts. Lauma whimpers as Nefer’s tongue flicks across her clitoris. Someone had once told her to spell out the alphabet with her tongue while giving someone head, but Nefer knows better these days. She uses the tip of her tongue to press against the underside of Lauma’s clit, licks around the whole thing, before pressing against it again. As expected, Lauma cries out.
Nefer pulls away.
“You should really keep that ankle elevated.”
She doesn’t give Lauma time to respond, hoisting her right leg over her shoulder. The angle is much better this way. Finally, Nefer can put her entire mouth on Lauma. She sucks on her clitoris, and Lauma bucks against her chin. Her tongue dips into Lauma’s opening, moving in and out. Nefer starts off slowly, but soon picks up the pace. Delicious sounds spill from Lauma’s throat. Her voice switches rapidly between low moans, and high-pitched whines.
Nefer’s mouth returns to Lauma’s clit. She sucks as, gently, she inserts her finger into Lauma. Lauma takes it without a problem, so Nefer adds a second. The mewl that follows goes straight to Nefer’s gut. For a moment she considers rubbing herself over her underwear, but with one hand holding Lauma’s thigh on her shoulder, and the other fingering Lauma, she has no hands left. She could summon a clone, of course. But then, she wouldn’t want to surprise Lauma and ruin the current atmosphere with the sudden appearance of a second Nefer.
Her fingers curl upwards, stroking Lauma’s smooth inner walls. The thighs around Nefer’s head tremble. Beads of sweat have formed on them. Nefer continuously alternates between using the flat of her tongue to lick, and the tip of her tongue to press against Lauma’s clit. Lauma writhes and moans, until finally, her back arches off the sofa. Nefer feels Lauma spasm around her fingers as she rides out her orgasm.
Carefully, Nefer takes Lauma’s injured leg off her shoulder. She crawls out from underneath Lauma’s dress. The view that greets her is an unfamiliar, but certainly not unwelcome one. Lauma is out of breath, slumped against he back of the sofa. She has pulled the top part of her dress down, letting her breasts spill out. Her nipples are pink and hard. Did she play with them while Nefer was hiding beneath her skirt? To keep such a sight from her is hardly fair.
“You can stay on the sofa tonight, if you want.” Nefer gets up from the floor and brushes some dust off her knees. “Jahoda can help you get back to Hiisi Island in the morning.”
Lauma gives her a quizzical look before wrapping a scarred, slender hand around Nefer’s wrist. Surprisingly strong, she pulls Nefer towards her until Nefer is straddling her. Then, she briefly presses their lips together.
“I just wanted to know what I taste like,” Lauma explains as they break away from each other. Her hands trail patterns over Nefer's arms, and travel down to Nefer's waist. “And, what made you think we were done? Sure, you have compensated me, but earlier this night you also took a walk with me, and you were so kind to help me after I fell.”
Lauma’s eyes glint playfully. “Didn't you say yourself that a favour is the worst thing someone can owe?”
Nefer fails to hold back a laugh. She kisses Lauma again. This time, she reaches for Lauma's breasts, and by all the three God-Kings, they feel good against her palms. So soft and heavy, and warm. Nefer pulls at one of Lauma’s nipples. Lauma groans against her lips, and Nefer — not one to miss an opportunity — deepens the kiss. Their tongues swirl around each other, hot and hungry. Still so hungry.
Nefer’s hips grind against Lauma's thighs, but the friction isn't enough. She needs way, way more than this. She takes a break from kissing and fondling to shed her cape, her shoes, and her dress. Lauma's eyes grow wider with every item Nefer sheds. In the end, she is left straddling Lauma's lap in only her jewellery and a black thong.
She’s breathing harder than usual, only just managing to keep herself from humping Lauma with reckless abandon. Lauma looks up at Nefer's face as she slowly brings her mouth closer to Nefer's bare breasts. She takes one of Nefer's brown nipples between her lips. She sucks. Hard.
Nefer squeals, the noise so undignified it sounds like it came from someone else. Blood rushes to her cheeks. Her body feels like it's tingling. Lauma continues to suckle, her fingers move to pay some attention to Nefer's other breast. She grabs at it, squeezes it, moulds it in her hand as she rolls her tongue against Nefer's nipple over and over.
“Get off for a moment, please,” Lauma says with her mouth full. Her lips come away with a wet pop.
Nefer's hips come to a halt. Her thong is sticking to her wetness. She can feel her juices coating Lauma's thighs and ruining the skirt of Lauma’s dress. It doesn't matter though. If the stains won't come out, Nefer will just buy her a new one. At this point, she's ready to weave a new one from scratch if that's what it takes for Lauma to keep going, but she reluctantly gets off.
Lauma gets up and pulls her dress the rest of the way down, being extra careful around her legs. Balancing on one foot, not putting any weight on her right ankle, she takes off her underwear, soiled and soaked from everything Nefer did before. Nefer follows suit, flinging her thong across the room. Naked and wanting, Nefer lays back against the sofa's arm rest. She opens her legs, reaches down and spreads her labia.
“If you want to repay me, I guess you'll have to work for it,” she purrs.
Behind Lauma’s dreamy, blue eyes, something snaps. Almost recklessly, she dives forward, lowering herself to her belly. She drags herself forward until her face is flush with Nefer’s vulva. She licks into her, tongues her wetness until Nefer's forearms break out in gooseflesh. When Lauma's lips finally wrap around Nefer's clitoris, and suck, Nefer moans.
Her last time eating someone out may have been a while ago, but she can't recall at all when someone last ate her out. It must've been back at the Akademiya. The girls that didn't hate her guts immediately for being a Desert dweller, loved to fetishise her over that same fact. But, that distinction means nothing to Lauma. She is lapping at Nefer like her life depends on it, regardless of where she's from. Lauma sucks on Nefer’s clit again, and the Akademiya feels further away than ever.
Nefer's hands find Lauma's antlers. She holds onto them, urging Lauma to press harder, to move faster, to fuck her better. She bucks against Lauma’s mouth. Lauma makes a muffled noise, the jewel hanging from her antler tinkles in response to Nefer’s gyrations. The sofa is sticking to the backs of her sweaty thighs. With every erratic movement, the yellow leather creaks and squelches. Lauma’s fingers find Nefer’s hips and pull her even closer.
Sharp teeth graze Nefer’s clit.
She goes rigid, the muscles around her opening contracting. Her clit pulsates, and her thighs quiver as she comes. Nefer writhes against Lauma’s face until the last wave of her orgasm has passed. She lets go of Lauma’s antlers. Lauma gasps for air as she pulls away from Nefer. The entire lower half of her face is slick with Nefer’s wetness. Some of it has even spread to the tip of her nose. Nefer stares at it as it glistens in the Curatorium’s dim lighting.
“For a vegetarian, you’re surprisingly adept at eating pussy, Miss Moonchanter.”
Lauma chokes on her own spit.
“Thank you,” she coughs as she sits up. She drags her hand across her chin. “If your offer regarding the sofa still stands, I’d be very grateful.”
Nefer looks down at the leather that’s visible between her thighs.
“Fine,” she chuckles. “I suggest you take the other sofa though.”