Sionann and Fírinne returned to Reme soon after conversing with Kin-Galud, as the day was growing long and the Divine Grove had sapped their strength. Nothing unusual happened for the next two days, but mid-week, they were summoned to the treasury. 

Payday was upon them- that is, they received their monthly stipend. Which also meant that for the first time since they joined the Vestal order, the initiates had a day to themselves, and were allowed to go out unaccompanied- albeit with explicit warnings to not do anything that would damage the Vestal reputation, and to not stay out too late. And a reminder that obviously most of their stipend was to be voluntarily donated. 

Sionann managed to convince Fírinne not to spend the entire day glued to her side- since she didn’t trust Fírinne not to ‘damage the Vestal reputation’ if they were together. And she had things that needed done. 

Primarily, she needed to make anonymous donations to several major temples. These temples had donation boxes for that very purpose, and while Vestal robes were distinctive, with the hood up she would be hard to identify. Not to mention she could literally cloak herself in shadows. 

Whoops, she forgot about the shadow thing.

Whoops, she forgot to put her hood up.

Whoops, she had polished the silver coins beforehand. 

Whoops, all her attempts at stealth were in vain. Damn, now some people were talking about seeing a red-haired elf in Vestal robes making anonymous donations. She should have just made a public donation, that way people wouldn’t be incorrectly assigning her the virtue of modesty. Oh well, you live and learn. 

 

Having donated most of her money, she took the remaining denarius to the market near her (former) home, where she bought some things Kin-Galud had requested- a hammer and chisel, and a large knife. She then bought herself the biggest jug of strong wine she thought she could get away with carrying around. Because the wine they served in the temple was so weak, she’d been sober the entire time, and fuck that. 

She got back to the temple and put away what she’d bought in her room. She was headed to the mess hall for her evening meal, when Fírinne ambushed her and dragged her back to the dorm, to her room. Which contained, in addition to the regular furnishings, a blanket and a basket of food.

“I thought it’d be nice to eat something different, so I got us food from some good vendors”, Fírinne explained. 

In fairness, the smells wafting from the basket were a lot more interesting than what they usually served in the mess hall. Sure, why not. And she could contribute her jug of wine, too.

The Aililius family was not so rich that they were above eating street food occasionally- albeit from upscale places. Fortunately, it seemed that Fírinne had, indeed, splurged on food from classy establishments. She’d even separated the food into courses, like this was an actual feast, and not an impromptu gathering of snacks.

Sionann fetched her jug of wine, two cups, and a jug of water. She might not enjoy the practically tasteless wine they served in the mess hall, but that didn’t mean she was going to drink her wine straight. She wasn’t an alcoholic. 

The first ‘course’, as it were, consisted of cooked eggs, soft bread, and fish sauce. The bread was good. Made of wheat, light in colour, crunchy crust but soft interior; a lot better than the emmer bread they usually served in the mess hall. The garum was also top-shelf stuff. Mackerel, Fírinne confirmed. 

The second course was an entire roasted duck, more bread, chopped cabbage and- 

“Are these… carrots?”

“They are.”

“Orange carrots?”

“I know, so weird. But the vendor said they taste the same.”  

They did taste the same, it turned out. Still, they looked weird, and she couldn’t see it catching on. 

The third course consisted of small pastries filled with a mix of dates and honey. These proved impossible to eat without getting incredibly sticky, and yet Fírinne resisted the temptation to lick Sionann’s fingers clean. As if she were holding herself back. How suspicious. 

 

“So…”, Fírinne said with terrible nonchalance. “How was the food?”

Sionann was pretty sure she knew where this was going, but she played along. 

“Very nice. I haven’t had duck in a while. And those pastries were perfect.”

Fírinne was ecstatic to hear the good review. And the redness of her face was definitely not only because of the wine. 

“So you’d say it was to your taste, then?”

Sionann suppressed a laugh. “Sure, Fírinne. A wealth of fine tastes.”

Fírinne let out an excited squeal, before crawling towards Sionann. 

“That means… I bought you dinner, doesn’t it?”

At this point, Sionann couldn’t avoid laughing a little, but Fírinne was undeterred. 

“Indeed, Fírinne. You bought me dinner.”

Fírinne’s face was now next to hers, breathlessly whispering directly into her ear. 

“Which means I can take your clothes off, right?”

Sionann briefly considered telling Fírinne about the notion of multiple dates preceding the creation of a relationship, but the poor thing might snap if she was denied any longer. And with a little (or a lottle) of wine in her, the notion of going further sounded… intriguing. She could only take so much ear-molestation without yearning to be touched in… other places. 

“Hmm. Maybe. Why don't you try it?”, she answered, unable to resist a little more teasing.

 

 

Fírinne drew back a little, meeting her steady gaze with wild amber eyes. She was panting heavily, and a little drool was escaping her. Sionann leaned forward, licking the errant trail of saliva from Fírinne’s chin to the corner of her mouth. It tasted like honey. 

Fírinne moaned, and collapsed forward, pushing Sionann to the ground. Gods, the anticipation must’ve been killing her. Though now, with Fírinne just lying panting on her chest, evidently unable to even move, the anticipation was starting to frustrate Sionann herself.

“Come on, then. Unwrap your prize”, she whispered into Fírinne’s ear.

This shocked Fírinne back to life, and she sat back up- still practically hyperventilating, but determined to cash in on her reward. In fact… she was burning eldritch energy to maintain herself. 

Even so, she just sat there, her eyes flickering over Sionann’s body.

“Where should I start?”, she asked.

“Wherever you want.”

Flickering eyes stopped on Sionann’s belt. Trembling hands eventually managed to unbuckle it, before pulling it away. Then, with much less hesitation, she slid her hands into the folds covering her chest, and pulled them apart, revealing the cloth wrapped around her breasts. 

In response to the unspoken demand in Fírinne’s eyes, she pushed herself up on her elbows, letting Fírinne slip hands behind her back, undoing the knot there with only a minimum of fumbling. 

The now loose wrapping was tossed aside, and Fírinne nestled her head between the uncovered mounds. A sigh, conveying utter contentment, flowed from Fírinne’s lips as she listened to Sionann’s heartbeat; eyes closed, body relaxed. 

For a minute, they just stayed in that position, Fírinne in heaven, Sionann remarkably satisfied. Sionann’s patience was not endless, however. “Is that all?”, she asked with a teasing tone. 

“Shh.”

“I would’ve thought you’d want more-eeee”

Fírinne interrupted by reaching up to squeeze her ears. “Shh”, she repeated, although this time Sionann couldn’t have obeyed if she wanted to, as Fírinne’s skillful fingers stimulated her ears. Combined with the licks and kisses Fírinne was now giving her breasts, aroused moans were inevitable. 

Eyes still closed, posture still relaxed, Fírinne enjoyed listening as Sionann’s heartbeat grew more intense. 

“Fírinne”

“Fírinneeeeee”

“Fírinne, please. You’re not supposed to be the patient one”

Fírinne finally opened her eyes, and looked up at her. “You want more?”

Sionann felt the tables turning at Fírinne’s teasing tone. “I didn’t say that. I thought you wanted more.”

“Hmmm… I always know what I want. We both know that. There’s only one person here who can be dishonest about her own desires.”

Control of the situation was rapidly slipping away. Sionann looked away, unable to meet Fírinne’s knowing gaze. Fírinne moved up to the side of her head, her hot breath tickling her ear. 

“How about this: I want you to be honest. You don’t have a choice, since I bought you dinner.”

“That’s not how it works, I- aaaaa”- Fírinne nibbled on her ear, disrupting her denial. 

“I say it is. Be honest for me.” 

“Hmph. You’re just as bad as Kin-Galud.”

“Mm… flattery won’t get you out of this.”

“Haaa… fine. Fírinne. I want more.”

“Be specific.”

“You’re the one with all the fantasies.”

“I want to fulfil yours, though.”

“Argh. Lower. My- between my legs. Touch me. Please.”

Fírinne let out a strangled moan when she finally caved- like being asked to pleasure her was, itself, the most pleasurable thing she’d ever experienced.

 

The ribbons tying her lower robes closed were deftly undone, and Fírinne spread them out, leaving only a single piece of clothing between her and the ultimate prize. A piece of clothing that was already embarrassingly damp. 

Fírinne rubbed her fingers over the damp patch, making Sionann shudder. When she saw Fírinne put the fingers in her mouth, she almost panicked. 

“You can’t do that!”, she half-shouted. 

“But I want to”, Fírinne responded conclusively. “Every part of you tastes amazing, you know. I wonder if that’s an elf thing.”

“I’m pretty sure it's a you-being-weird thing!”

“Mmm… anf whoof faulf ifs thas”, Fírinne mumbled, having dipped her fingers in for a second taste. 

The worst part was that… she kinda liked the idea of Fírinne tasting her down there. But that couldn’t be normal. Although… she definitely wasn’t normal, that was firmly established. But she couldn’t just abandon all sense of decency like that. Even if it was really hot. 

“I think you actually like it”, Fírinne whispered, leaning next to her head again. “I think you’re a slutty elf who wants me to taste her pussy.”

“Fírinne! You can’t- I mean, you shouldn’t- or, you should at least pretend-”

Fírinne kissed her, muting further complaints. The left hand went up to her ear, whilst the right slipped past the final barrier, fingers making direct contact with… the bits down there. The good bits. The bits that made up what Fírinne would refer to as her ‘pussy’. 

Oh fuck. That sensation- she suddenly realised it had been missing for a while. And now that it was here… oh fuck. 

Her hips involuntarily bucked, trying to gain more stimulation. Fírinne’s fingers pressed against her- her- her pussy. She ground her hips, wanting, needing them to go deeper. 

When Fírinne removed her hands, and broke the kiss, Sionann let out a pitiful whine. 

“What do you want, Sionann?”, Fírinne asked with an elated smile.

“Gods. More. Tongue. Pussy. Please.”

If Fírinne smiled any wider, the top of her head would fall off. She undid the knots keeping Sionann’s undergarment secure, exposing her… pussy to the world. Or at least to Fírinne, who stared intensely. Sionann would’ve been embarrassed by that, but fuck it, she needed the stimulation more than she needed dignity. 

She begged, with her moans, with her eyes, with her wiggling hips. Fírinne, being a merciful girl, didn’t deny her heartfelt plea, and lowered her head between her legs. 

The first long lick from bottom to top almost pushed her over the edge by itself. But when Fírinne used her fingers to spread her open, and pushed her tongue inside- yeah, there was no surviving that. Even if she’d been totally numb down there, the mere sight, the mere thought would’ve been enough. 

She… came, there was no other word for it. She couldn’t deny it. The way her vision danced, her spine arched, and her pussy clenched, these were sensations she could not categorise as anything else than the result of sex. 

She didn’t even realise she was doing it, but her legs locked behind Fírinne’s head, preventing her from pulling back. Not that Fírinne minded, as she gladly kept working, her tongue and fingers stimulating every part of her pussy, and the surrounding area, over and over until she came again. 

And a third time. 

 

After the fourth, she quite literally fainted, and when she returned to the world Fírinne was lying next to her, nuzzling into her side. 

“Uhhhn”, she groaned, by which she meant to say ‘that was pretty good’. 

She wasn’t sure if it was telepathy, or Fírinne was just good at guessing- but whatever the case, her response was: “You’re welcome”

“Mngh”, or ‘we should do this again sometime’. 

“Sure. But next time, it’s your turn to buy me dinner.”