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Protecting a Sword	By : The13thStranger Category: +A through F > Fire Emblem (all) > Fire Emblem (all) Views: 4478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I swear I own nothing of Fire Emblem, and make no money at all with it.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
From then on, the two seemed to be established lovers. Though whether that was people noticing the sudden appearance of both rings at the same time, or the gossip floating around of a very content, even though she was badly wounded, Natasha getting carried into camp like a bride by an extremely serious Marisa was still under speculation.

One evening, after a battle had run particularly long, Marisa was tightly wound and aching, having pushed herself to her limits. Natasha innocently offered a massage.

Marisa had truthfully never let anybody give her one before, and felt like seeing what all the fuss was about.

Best. Decision. Ever.

Hearing those descriptions about melting under somebody’s hands really meant something now that she was lying face down and being shown that kind of care.

She supposed it helped matters that she was getting it from an experienced healer. Massage was just another form of treatment, she supposed. The fact that it had her almost moaning in appreciation (almost, she was disciplined after all) was just a happy bonus.

“I could do a better job if you would not mind undressing.” It got better?

“Alright.” Marisa had no problem removing her shirt, it wasn’t anything Natasha hadn’t seen before. Clerics had to keep clothes away from open wounds so they didn’t heal over when they used staves.

She wasn’t really that shy about her own body anyway. It always seemed like an afterthought compared to ‘oh goddess she’s in bed with me’.

Sure enough, Natasha’s hands on her bare back were heavenly. She was soon left so dazed that she barely noticed those hands slipping lower.

“Do you want a full rub down? It would do you a lot of good…” Marisa almost answered, but didn’t because Natasha had taken the initiative to start on one of her legs (when had her pants disappeared?).

“I think you really needed this…” The cleric mused, moving back up to Marisa’s shoulders. “You are so… tense…”

“O-oh?” Marisa managed to get out as her breath hitched.

“Mm. I would not mind doing this for you whenever you needed it.”

“T-then… you should teach me?”

“Whatever for?”

“I’d like to return the favor.” She had to admit, the thought of doing to Natasha what was being done to her now was extremely appealing.

Since Natasha didn’t worry about composing herself, she’d probably made a lot of little noises when she drowned in this sensati-

“A-ah?!” Those hands had unexpectedly started to make their way up her sides, teasing her with feather light touches on their way to what she guessed would be her breasts. Now easily accessible with the way Marisa had slightly arched her back.

“W-what are you doing?” Oh it was obvious what she was doing, but Marisa felt the question needed to be voiced anyway. And as Natasha started groping her and bringing forth more new sensations, she could swear she heard soft laughter behind her.

“Would you like me to stop?” And Marisa honestly didn’t know if she did or not. She wasn’t afraid, but… there was a lot happening that she wasn’t used to and Natasha knew quite well that she didn’t normally react well to being bodily tossed out of her comfort zone.

It happened frequently, after all.

“Marisa, it is alright if you do not want t-“

“It’s f-fine…” She found herself answering anyway, though it was more to hopefully put a rest to that doubt she heard in Natasha’s voice.

She felt those hands gently prompt her to turn over, and Natasha descended on her, kissing in that expressive ‘I care so much’ way that she had gotten extremely fond of doing lately.

“Trust me?” Natasha asked as the hand on the back of Marisa’s head let her hair down.

“Always.” Marisa breathed, swallowing nervously. “I’m… y-yours, right?”

“All of this for me?” The cleric responded, tracing her ribs with an idle finger.

“Yes.”

“Then I will gladly accept.” It was the first time Marisa had ever been kissed anywhere but her mouth.

And whoever decided that the throat was a good place for that was a genius.

Minute after wonderful minute passed as the cleric mapped out the body under her with lips and fingers, and glorious heat began building and straining and why would a cleric know about any of-

Sensory overload started to suddenly choke and squeezeandholymotherof-

“Oh, oh s-stop too much goddess please-“

…

…so. That was an orgasm.

“Marisa… did you…?” Wait, she had heard about this. Men loudly belittling somebody for… ‘premature… something’. Finishing too soon. Wasn’t Natasha supposed to touch her below her waist before any of that happened?!

Was Natasha disappointed in her?

“D-did I?”

“…I… think you did…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for? I was trying to do that, after all.” The cleric giggled, something that Marisa had never heard before.

“I am very glad you are so easy to please.” The swordswoman heard whispered into her ear, as if it were some form of secret.

“It makes it easy to please you more.” Some form of dirty secret. She felt her undergarments being slid down her legs and oh goddess oh goddess oh goddess-

Marisa was still very sensitive after that unexpected meltdown. Natasha was delighted to take advantage of this fact.

Fingers, somewhat clumsy but learning too quickly stroked and tweaked and played and-

“Ah! Oh-oh goddess ahhhh-“

She was quite convinced that this was not real and she was dead when a finger slowly inched it’s way inside.

“F-fuck, Natasha!” And before she knew it, she was falling apart again and Natasha was using two fingers and they were thrusting and she came again, and then her thumb started playing with something on the outside and the Marisa swore that the pleasure doubled in magnitude and it wouldn’t stop.

It was, in that respect, quite a bit like when Natasha had snapped her control and forced her to recognise the bond. Just like before, Natasha was holding her and guiding her through a violent storm of bliss.

The fingers inside her started digging deeper, angling themselves in a way that ceased coherent thought and forced her into a screaming mess.

Unconsciousness gladly took her in its embrace as the bond’s warmth lulled her to sleep.

--

Natasha was still awake when she opened her eyes, lying in front of her, facing her.

“Where… the hell did you…” It was a perfectly reasonable question. Even though Marisa, with a rising feeling of dread, knew what the answer probably was.

“Oh. Tethys lent me a few books.” Fuck dammit!

“Oh goddess she’ll somehow know what we did when she looks at me tomorrow.”

“…Perhaps she should be the least of your worries.”

“Why’s that?”

“You were… um… rather loud.” Oh. Oooooooh.

Oh.

“I, ah… noticed that you did not have your maidenhead.” Marisa was thankful for the subject change. She wanted to forget tomorrow was coming. Maybe if she forgot hard enough, it wouldn’t happen.

“Oh, that. My training needed me to be flexible. I lost it during a session years ago.”

“So I am the only one to ever have you?”

“The only one.” Natasha’s smile wasn’t predatory, Marisa thought. But it was close.

“Good.” The cleric snuggled closer, putting out the lamp and settling in for sleep.

“And tomorrow, if you like, you can be the only one to have me.”

Marisa tried very hard not to feel intimidated, failed, decided to figure that out later, and kissed her wife goodnight.
- 6
- 7
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Protecting a Sword