The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'-Chapter 509 - The Passion That Takes Steps, The Intimacy That Burns Beds

The woman who had spent many years in the Yecine family estate adjusted her grip on her bow case while waiting at the edge of a marked area as the two boys walked into the activation zone. It was something she wanted to take with her to pass the time, because training in archery again like she’d been doing before marriage was as much a memory of her youth as it was a show of trust and care from her husband.

Today, she was wearing more practical clothes than the finery she showed up in a week before - a women’s hunting outfit, jacket with skirt over pants, composed of white and black trim. Put together by the same seamstress that was hired on merely thanks to auspiciously running into the heiress back before the pre-Descent competition. The mortal artisan remained quite popular for private requests from those surrounding her private employer... and was making more money on those commissions than she actually knew what to do with while working *much* less stressfully.

As long as she didn’t think about how they were all impressive cultivators. Or that her children were getting a bit too proud for their breeches... that she made at home and they kept telling people were approved by the leader of the settlement herself!

Rezzue had also obtained nice tea in the settlement, which she personally sought out as a gift when hearing that spices were being sent, along with some sweet delicacies that could be rationed. Shopping out in public with her husband had been a wonderful experience. Especially every time he pointed at or suggested she buy things he knew his wife liked. At times she expected he was cheating with his Astralism when she’d looked at the thing first, but it was still touching to be treated nicely - and to draw the eyes of other people for it.

"I guess it’s time. When you’re ready."

"I’ll make sure they don’t cause her any trouble."

"A little trouble is fine, they’ll learn. You should be more worried about yourself."

Pear-colored eyes blinked just a small bit of wetness out, drawn forth while thinking of not seeing Navuill for some time. They turned to meet teasing pigeon blues before brightening with certainty.

"I am considering myself. Which is why I want to go. I’ll tell her what you said to me yesterday."

The red haired woman took a step forward and her presence completed the three-cultivator in range requirement of the artifact. The effect built like they had been told, the glow of protective spiritual barrier over their forms feeling more magical than anything the trio had experienced before. Before too long, they were gone and the quarry felt very empty despite the two who still stood on its grounds.

Another heavy-blade wielding swordswoman had waited outside specifically on a request from his wife, who suspected he might do something silly... like attempt to take her place without asking. He moved to stand beside his cousin to look from afar at the once again dormant device. The tool that was intended to cause so much trouble for the Goltbred family was instead being used to help them - and others.

’In a manner of speaking...’

"If this is just the start, I’m going to miss her far more than I expected I would after agreeing with her choice."

His usual, taciturn Yecine-brand of expressions were missing all day - even before he sighed aloud... while thinking that *help* was not free to give even if it was free to take. As much as he respected Qatrand, her goals and her ideas, he recognized very well that her good heart was accruing costs. Costs that had already needed to be paid down on once when she left the family.

Now, he would also know a fraction of what the price felt like in the specific case of spousal distance forced by a literal distance. Qat glanced at him while reaching out and gripping onto his shoulder - the very kind of solid, grounding touch she would have wanted from someone in tough moments like this. The kind that Ondua and Yatrel had provided more than once over these years, on visits to their estate.

Though as much as she liked her cousin, she still probably was not going to hug him right then like those moments tended to devolve into.

"I know exactly what that feels like... and you are right. This first expectation is nothing. Longing to share something that happened during the day and remembering they’re not there... is the worst feeling. Waking up and the bed being too empty after a nice dream is probably the next worst. And they happen more frequently the more you love her."

His throat worked and cleared as he swallowed something down at her words. His hand came up and clapped over hers on his shoulder, rough callouses from sword training scrubbing against the Warden Patrician’s knuckles as he squeezed back. Eventually he chuckled to try and change the mood and shifted so that they could move apart - instead of standing in place until the ones they wanted to come back returned, like he thought was possible they would both do.

"At least it was a lovely last night we shared together. If fate is beyond unkind to us."

The phrasing was intended to be a bit deliberately vague, but the swordswoman was more than used to *barely* vague statements from Yatrel. Then there was far too much information given by Talva about the nights of conception, shared after the woman moved in and began catching up on life stories. With those more blunt statements, one would think she should not think too much about what he might have meant - but instead, it provided a basis of possibility for what he could be alluding to.

One that a lonely ’fortress’ could not help but assume from. After knowing they had done *that* in the empty home she had lent them, she wanted to immediately wash her hand that had been touched by him - just a little bit seriously. Instead of making a big deal of it, she made a strong mental note to have Hoolov donate the guest bedding... to a fire.

"Well... there you are. Something good to remember. Keep the good things in your heart, cousin. Work out the bad through your bladework."

Outside of the quarry, they both had duties to return to. A territory that was starting to get close to having the right people to run itself. A family that had plenty of people that could not run it towards anything but the ground. Neither of those things would change by drowning in the separation. Or by other realizations, the kind which Qat had always known *intellectually* about her cute wife and her ’hunger’...

’She is going to want to address that when she returns. The fact that she considers herself old enough now. How do I... deal with that, anyway?’

All a blonde rubbing her neck could think of, on the way back to her city, was the same thing she had told her brothers. Listening to El’s advice that seemed strange, working for the lesson she would give, and thinking it through during application instead of merely expecting to be told the answer. Her usual tendrils of spirit always out exploring the surroundings had sunk hastily inside her body like an urchin. Spiky, foreboding Intent she learned through the illusory training tool.

That prevented the man traveling back with her from using his Empathic skills on her without forcing it, but didn’t prevent him from using his mouth.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"But your face-"

"I’m fine!"

After the Hero of the Last Descent’s voice cracked up an octave, Navuill found himself traveling back alone. Following in the wake of her Gravity Element assisted movements. In the wake of obvious embarrassment... and a lingering stubborn thought from a swordswoman that she only wanted her El to know.

Just what sort of things she was thinking of right then.