Ignore his hands.

Ashley was stunned for a moment, as her brother groped her large, firm breasts. “Mother wasn't a soldier.” The young woman protested softly, ignoring her brother's wandering fingers.

“Mother could fight, can you?” Winter asked slapping one of her soft boobs, causing it to jiggle. “If a man wanted you, could you stop them?”

“I can learn to!” Ashley growled, stepping back defiantly. “What do you want me to do? Stay here, marry a fat merchant, and let his children hang off my boobs?” The redhead asked cupping her huge tits and milking them gently.

“How will Kyle feel about you learning how to fight?” Her brother asked falling into a playful fighting stance.

“He would hate it.” The young half-elf signed dropping her hands. “He wants me to have a quite life.”

“What do you want?” The warrior grinned, darting forward and slapping her round melon again.

Ashley barely noticed, to lost in the serious questions swirling through her head. “I don't know. I want mom and dad back, but I want Kyle to be happy too.”

“Stop worrying about what he wants, and do what feels right. You want to learn to fight? Do it! Adventure? Go for it. Hell, join the military.” Winter replied, with an obvious distaste for their uncle's opinion “I would take you with me Ash, I would, but it's going to be dangerous. Not a place for someone just starting to learn to fight.” He said pulling his little sister in for a hug, her large naked breasts pressing against his chiseled chest.

“You're right. I will tell him when the time is right.” Ashley nodded, leaning her head against his warm skin.

“Good. Now if you are done turning me on, I should go avail my charms upon the local girls before we celebrate your birthday tonight.” He grinned down at her.

“Hey! You brought these puppies out, don't blame me for their awesome power over men.” His sister grinned pulling her shirt closed, and heading for her own room.

The rest of the day was a blur as she went out and searched for jobs, and then came back to celebrate her birthday. Kyle had bought a cake, and some fine wine, which she was allowed to drink now that she was of age. All of them got a little sauced, before going to bed.

The next morning her brother began training her how to fight, mostly working in hand to hand combat. While she was hopelessly outmatched against him, she was a quick study, and had a strong will to fight. They would train a few hours in the morning, and a few hours at night before bed. Kyle chose to remain silent about the choice, perhaps hoping it was a phase that would pass when Winter left.

One week after Winter had arrived, after they had finished their last training session, Ashley decided to head for the bars. Still wearing a sweat soaked tank top, and a tight pair of shorts, she walked into one of the rowdy bars, and looked around the crowd. Spotting one of the mercenaries she had seen riding with her brother, she quickly took a seat next to the man, who was already well into his drink.

“You're one of the men going with my brother to the Circle aren't you?” The young woman smiled at him.

The mercenary turned and looked her over, his eyes widening at the young filly's attire. “That I am.” The man smiled running a hand through his greasy black hair. “What makes you ask?”

“Just wondering.” She smiled politely.

“Your brother had to pay a lot of money to find a ship willing to take us their. Hell, if I hadn't served with the man, I wouldn't dare go to that wretched place. But I would follow your brother into the gates of hell.” Waving his hand, a bartender will come fill his drink, as well as one for her, before heading off to help other thirsty patrons.

“To adventure the man grinned” Toasting her, and taking a drink.

“To getting married and raising babies.” Ashley smiled toasting back.

“Ha! Yeah right. You're going to stow away on the ship and we both know it.” The keen man said with grin. “Course, I can end that, all I have to do is tell your big brother. Then you won't be able to hide in the wagon, and get loaded on the ship.” He grinned, unwittingly giving her the idea, as much as blocking the idea.