Three Nocturnes

BY : Ajora
Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy II - V
Dragon prints: 473
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy V, nor do I make money from this.

For a little while, very early on, there was a time during which Faris was just Faris, not Sarisa. While Lenna wasn't sure if there was any love between them then, there was certainly lust. When the men weren't looking, Lenna was more than happy to flutter her lashes at the handsome pirate captain, twirl a bit of hair in her fingers while they talked, linger a little too close, and do all the other little things to demonstrate that she was interested in her. And Faris, for her part, flirted with her, let her touch linger, softened her usually brusque speech for her, got close enough for her breath to tickle her skin and stir her blood.

When they finally figured out that they were related, they stopped. Mostly. Largely out of guilt and grief over their father. Sometimes, when the men are otherwise occupied, they really can't help themselves. Faris' voice might dip low enough for only her to hear as she commends her sword- or spell-work, and she gets extra close to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. Sometimes she breaks away too soon, sometimes she lingers and their shared desire is so apparent that Lenna wants to toss all propriety and kiss her sister in ways she certainly shouldn't. She even encourages it with lingering touches, long gazes, and extra efforts made to appeal to her handsome captain. Always she tells herself that it's not really incest unless they're actually having sex. The flirting is harmless.

When it gets to be too much, when the need for each other is too great, Faris buys herself time with a pretty girl the moment they settle into a town for the night. It doesn't escape Lenna that the prostitutes are roughly her size, or that they're fair-haired and doe-eyed. Faris evidently has a type, and it appears to be shorter girls with light hair and eyes. Though Lenna is sure she's reaching, she suspects that with enough alcohol they might even look like her.

For her part, her hand has always served her well.

Lenna excuses herself from the table they share at one of Istory's inns for supper once she notices Faris' eyes falling on one of the other women in the inn. It stings a bit, but she knows they can't really be together. Not in the way she wants. And really, Lenna can't possibly fault her sister for attending to her needs, or the women she hires for needing the money. If Lenna had any sexual experience at all, she might have considered following Faris' example.

So she turns in early. Sort of. Lenna might have lingered a little long in the steaming hot water of the bath. Her thoughts wander as she lies back in the tub to explore her body with hands she imagines to be someone else's. Strong hands, callused by years at sea. If she focuses, she can almost hear Faris' voice, low and reassuring. If only no one cared

The water grows cold before she can really stoke the warmth of desire between her legs to that orgasm she loves so much. With a sigh, she lets it drain and dries herself off to curl up in bed. It's not a terribly comfortable bed, but it's better than a tent.

Lenna wakes with a start to the sound of glass breaking in the next room. Faris' voice swears; the girl with her attempts to reassure her that it was just an accident. Despite her better manners telling her to go back to sleep and ignore the noise, Lenna scoots closer to the wall their rooms share to hear more.

She's not close enough. Their voices return to low murmurs she can't quite make out. Lenna lays in bed, trapped by the struggle between her curiosity and her morality, until curiosity finally wins and pulls her out from under the covers. There's no harm in just listening, is there?

No, of course not. Lenna is just concerned about her big sister, that's all. The broken glass worries her; Faris usually isn't that clumsy. She'll simply sit nearby until the prostitute leaves.

These are the things that reassure her as she tries to lift the armchair closest to the wall to set it closer. It takes more strength than she has to actually lift it, but she manages to scoot it over little by little against the wall with the least amount of noise-making possible. She's sure no one noticed, nor should they notice the nearly imperceptible creak as she sits in the chair in wait for them to finish.

There's a creak of the bed as someone sits on it. Lenna still has to strain to listen, but at least she can make something out.

"Open up, darlin'." Faris' voice, husky with lust. It sends a frisson of desire down Lenna's back as she imagines her handsome captain speaking to her like that. "Let me see what I've bought for the night."

The prostitute giggles and there's a moment of silence in which Lenna assumes she complies. "Meets with your approval, my lord?"

"Never saw a puss I didn't like. But, listen. Only thing I'm lord of is the sea." There's that grumpy quality in Faris' voice she gets when confronted about her heritage, but Lenna is sure the prostitute has no idea what a sensitive subject it can be. "Lie back."

The bed creaks again, and there's a rustle of fabric that Lenna is pretty sure is the prostitute making herself comfortable. "Is there anything—?"

"'Captain' suffices if you must. Just enjoy yourself. I'll take care of everything."

Lenna's imagination certainly goes places, spurred on by her sister's words and the kinds of promises 'I'll take care of everything' holds. She closes her eyes to the moon-lit room and leans back into the chair. Her hands skim over her breasts and squeeze just so, her sister's voice fresh in her mind. Perhaps her sister and the prostitute have fallen silent, but it's enough to know that they're there, doing things she wishes her sister would do with her.

Maybe she'll feel bad about it in the morning. Right now, as her nipples harden to her own caresses, she couldn't care less. They're not even in the same room. A little fantasy is harmless.

"Ohhh, Captain," the prostitute croons, shattering her reverie. "You're so good with your mouth."

Admittedly, Lenna doesn't know much about sex between women; what education she did have was limited to dry old books and Jenica's awkward, stilted explanation of sex with men that made it sound absolutely horrifying. Those words, combined with their conversation earlier, gives her a pretty good idea what's going on. Lenna's slow-building arousal sparks to a jolt of need through her nerves as she pictures Faris kissing her between her legs.

Giving up on all pretense that she's unaffected by her sister's little venture right next door, Lenna lifts her hips to pull off her underwear and tosses them onto the bed. She really doesn't need to be getting a new pair out of her bag. And with them out of the way, she can spend as much time as she likes playing with herself.

Her nightgown bunches around her hips as she sets her feet on the edge of the seat cushions and spreads her knees just enough for her hand to slip between her thighs. Not enough to part the lips between them, not yet. She wants to enjoy this at an appropriate pace.

The initial touch might be a shy caress but for her familiarity with her own body. Her fingers slip through her curls as she slides them lightly over the lips, and she wonders what it would be like if her sister did it for her. Faris would be gentle with her, she decides. Lenna is technically a virgin, after all, and she would very much like not to be.

The prostitute starts moaning softly, causing that place between Lenna's legs to twitch in sympathy. She parts her legs further, letting her fingers delve between her lips to feel how hot and wet she really is. The sticky slickness spreads easily over her fingers as she slides them up and down the length of her slit. Her breath shallows, growing ragged as it quickens, and her clit grows harder with the steady motion of her fingers against its hood. Her pleasure builds and builds, she grows wetter and wetter, and she's so, so close, and, and, and—

The prostitute muffles her cry against a pillow; Lenna's free hand darts up to stifle hers in her palm as the steady build finally breaks and crashes through her. Her thighs tremble as her orgasm overtakes her, her pussy grasps for her fingers even as she refrains from sticking them in it, and it takes several long moments for the wash of pleasure to dissipate before she can even get her bearings.

The bed next door creaks again as it takes another's weight. "Good job, darlin'. You taste divine."

Lenna's eyes flutter open as she winds down, though it takes a few more moments for her to pull her hand out from between her legs. She likes the warmth too much. But, she'll need to wash up and go to sleep; sooner rather than later. The morning is sure to test her willpower and she'll need her rest for that.


Faris isn't all sure why her rented ladies leave her less satisfied than usual, and she tries to avoid figuring it out as much as possible. Going down that path is just asking for trouble. Oh, she still gets off, of course, but it's never quite as good as it used to be. And normally she'd pay the lady for the night and enjoy the pleasures of having a sweet young thing sleeping in her arms, but there were things she heard from the next room as she entertained herself with the girl and they still nag at her, hours after she'd sent the lady home.

It does not help that Butz pointed out as she was turning in that her lady of the evening looks like Lenna. She absolutely did not.

Not really.

Well, maybe if she was drunk enough she might see some superficial likenesses. She'd been hitting the bottle a lot more than usual lately. How can she not, when she's still not fully processing the deaths of Syldra and her father and can't even have what she wants most?

Not that she wants Lenna like that. She absolutely does not spend her free time surreptitiously glancing at her own damned sister's lips and wondering what they taste like. And the thought of that makes her wonder how Lenna tastes elsewhere and she smothers the flight of fancy in its crib before it grows even further.

So she sticks her face between the legs of whores instead and decidedly does not imagine Lenna in their place.

Faris wakes to the sound of knocking. Must've dozed off at some point. Still, it's early morning and they're supposed to be on the road soon enough. She slips on her tunic and nothing else, because no one else in the party knocks quite like her little sister, and answers the door. Frankly, Faris probably looks like a terror already; her hair's a mess, she's got nothing but her tunic on, and she hasn't even washed up yet.

Her little sister stares up at her. Then down, and the slight blush Lenna turned up with deepens. Her hair's so perfect that not a strand is out of place. It had to have been done within the past minute or so.

It's the blush and the impeccable, just-done appearance that makes Faris wonder if it was Lenna making noises next door while she entertained with her lady of the evening.

Oh, she definitely shouldn't be doing this at all. But really, she's a pirate, she did a lot worse than a bit of teasing over her career. With an assured half-smile, she folds her arms under her breasts in a way that lifts them up a little and leans just so against the doorjamb. Lenna's eyes widen and she stares right at her girls and she almost, almost wants to laugh when her sister's small, pink tongue darts out across her lips in what's almost certainly desire.

Well. Maybe Faris should reconsider her moral quandaries, after all. Not that morality ever really matters to pirates. "Can I help you, sweetness?" she asks with a flash of teeth.

It takes less than a moment for her sister to blink away her desire. Lenna visibly tries to steel herself to act normal, but the attempt falters. "We'll be leaving in about thirty minutes. Don't be late."

Then her sister stalks away, leaving her to wonder how long they can last like this.

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