Waking Up & Having Breakfast

“Oy...!”

A gentle but insistent pressure pushes against Krvavy’s cheek.

“Wake up already, ya sleepy ‘ead...!”

Stubborn as she is, the Drakling resists these attempts to shake her from this slumber. “Mnnhh...” She quietly groans, turning away and burying her face into a soft cloud.

But still that poking and prodding pressure continues to harass her. “Ach, be careful wit’ yer ‘orns...!” As does the muffled voice, those hushed words increasing in volume, and growing just a little annoyed as well. “Ya’ll rip open tha’ pillow...!”

Something grabs at one of Krvavy’s horns, hefting her head up and pulling her away from that cozy cloud that she had been nuzzling into. “Mnnnnnghhnn...” Not even that unhappy sound can save her from this fate...

“Just ‘ow are ya so tired...?” A tinge of exasperation underlines that question. A light shake accompanies it. “Ya barely did any work last night...!”

Even half-asleep as she is, it becomes more and more obvious to Krvavy that she is just going to keep getting bothered. That there is nothing she can do to stop this pestering. Not without giving in and waking up, at least. And so... she is left with no choice but to very slowly, and very reluctantly, open her eyes.

Beryl’s blurry face looms above the barbarian. Whatever annoyance that the Wood Elf may have felt soon fades away, her lips swiftly spreading into a playful smile. “Did ya sleep well~?”

“Uuugh...”

“Ach, no!” That tomboy drops her teasing tone, swatting aside the lazy hand that tried to push her away, before returning to impatiently poking Krvavy’s cheek... with enough force for each ‘tap’ to possibly count as a slap. Albeit rather light ones. “Ya are not goin’ back ta sleep!”

“W...why...? Hahhhh...” The Drakling stifles a yawn and tries to ignore the fact that her head is currently being jostled around like a bag of loose change. “Why... do... you hate... me...?”

Beryl simply clicks her tongue at that mumbled response. “Just get up already. Unless ya want ta miss breakfast?”

Krvavy stretches her legs to their full extent, silken sheets gliding across pale skin and black scales alike. Her thick tail even gets in on that action, twitching beneath those smooth blankets, but her arms do not, knuckles pressing into her lips as she yawns once more. After a few seconds... this Drakling lets her drowsy eyelids drop back down.

“Really? Ya do know tha’ Ah won’t be skippin’ breakfast, right?” The tanned Elf suppresses a sigh and tries a different tactic. “Which means tha’ ya’ll be leavin’ me alone wit’ the Countess. Just the two o’ us, talkin’ behind yer back...”

“Ehh...” The barbarian weakly grunts back.

“Ach!” Beryl’s patience comes to an end, both of her hands tightly grabbing onto the Drakling’s horns. “Tha’ is it, ya’re gettin’ up!”

Krvavy grumbles as she is forced to go along with her mildly annoyed Elf, pushing against the soft mattress as she moves from lying on her side to sitting upright. Cooperating, even if just reluctantly, is much more pleasant than getting pulled out of bed by her horns.

The very tips of Beryl’s long and pointed ears twitch, that single and subtle motion not as pleasant as they way they wiggled last night. “Did ya ‘ave a good nights sleep?” She asks, arms crossed beneath her pert breasts.

Rather than immediately respond to her Elf’s dry and slightly sarcastic question, Krvavy chooses instead to tilt her head left and then right. Her stiff neck audibly cracks. “Ehh.” Her shrug quickly shifts into a stretch, arms reaching so high that her fingers nearly touch the dim canopy above. “That pillow was a bit... a bit soft. My head sunk into it too much.”

Beryl’s annoyed expression wavers, that tomboy unable to begrudge her barbaric lover for trying to sleep in. “Aww, ya poor thing. Is this amount of luxury too much fer ya?” What started off sounding a little like mockery quickly loses its bite, becoming undeniably teasing. “Would ya rather’ve slept on the floor~?”

A glance towards the floor in question doesn’t help Krvavy come to an answer. “Is it bare, or do I get the carpet?”

The tomboyish Wood Elf rolls her bright, blue-green eyes... but she can’t quite keep the smile off of her face. “Ach, come on. We only ‘ave so much time ta get cleaned up and ready fer the day.” Her nimble fingers wrap back around the Drakling’s upper horn, giving it a gentle but insistent tug. “Wouldn’t do ta make the Countess wait on us.”

With a sigh, Krvavy lets herself get led off and away from the bed.

An unhappy scowl fills the albino maid’s face. “Sit.” She sternly orders, glaring through the thick lenses of her glasses. Her expression hardens even further. “On separate seats.”

The Drakling pointedly looks at Beryl.

“Ach, fine...” The Wood Elf shakes her head and does her best to exaggerate her disappointment. Which isn’t exactly hard for her to do. “Just know tha’ ya’re bein’ no fun...”

Krvavy settles into her seat, ignoring the lighthearted grumbling of her sweet berry. The table is already set up with plates, utensils, and a few metal domes covering up the different parts of this undoubtedly delicious meal. But the seat across from both Beryl and the barbarian remains empty.

The corner of Vera’s pale pink eye twitches. “The Countess will be here shortly.” She answers the unasked question, looking increasingly annoyed over being left in a room alone with these two guests.

“So it’s just us and ya right now~?” Slowly, Beryl’s teasing smile spreads wider and wider, that smirk becoming more than a little predatory. “Wha’ do ya say about gettin’ ta kno–”

“No.” Vera curtly cuts off that tomboy, her tone and gaze growing rather icy. “You are a temporary addition to my Lady’s life. Nothing more than a passing interest. You are not the first attractive woman that my Lady has brought into her bed, and you will not be the last.”

No matter how biting those words may have been, they aren’t enough to discourage Beryl. Not even slightly. “Oh~?” A bright gleam dances across her blue-green eyes, those long Elvish ears of hers wiggling with amusement. “So ya think tha’ Ah’m attractive~?”

The scowling maid presses her pale pinkish lips together into a thin line, eyes narrowing into hostile slits behind her thick rimmed glasses. That clear display of animosity is undermined just a little by the involuntary blush colouring her otherwise snowy cheeks, adding a faint but noticeably pink hue to that near-perfectly white skin of hers.

As expected, Beryl is utterly unbothered by that increasingly antagonistic glare. In fact, it just seems to embolden her...

But, luckily, the door swings open before the teasing tomboy can utter another word.

“I apologize for making you wait on me,” a soft smile graces the Countess’ face as she steps into the room. “My attention was needed elsewher– Oh?” She pauses mid stride, amethyst eyes focusing so fully on Krvavy. “I see that you chose to keep the numerous marks that our lips left on your body.”

“They... wouldn’t wash off...” A rich and rosy red colours Krvavy’s own cheeks, her embarrassment growing by the second.

Rina raises a single delicate brow, briefly glancing towards the tomboy as she steps right up to this food-covered table. “Did Beryl not tell you about the oils?”

“Wha’ and ‘ave ‘er remove those reminders o’ the fun tha’ we ‘ad last night~?” The Wood Elf woman’s innocent smile doesn’t quite match the teasing twinkle in her eyes.

Vera’s glare intensifies as she wordlessly pulls out her Lady’s chair.

“I see...” Rina slowly states, sitting down in her seat. “Well, I am sorry to disappoint but I must ask you to wash them off once we are done with breakfast. I have a reputation to uphold and I cannot have rumours of my indiscretions spread so blatantly: it would be difficult to keep people from talking if they were to see a guest of mine leave my home while covered in my lipstick.”

“Alright...” Beryl reluctantly relents, patting down her sundress in an attempt to distract from her disappointment. “But do we ‘ave ta remove the golden kisses tha’ Ah left on ‘er?”

“Yes.” Krvavy quickly answers, staring rather intensely at her Elf. “I don’t need to give random strangers even more of a reason to stare at me.”

“Tsk...”

A warm smile plays at Rina’s lips, her amethyst eyes looking between those lovers. “Thank you, and I apologize if I left you waiting. As I was saying before that distraction...” She pauses for just a brief second, letting out a soft sigh. “My attention was needed elsewhere. But that business is now dealt with, so we should be undisturbed for the next hour. More than enough time to eat, I should say.”

“Oh, its no problem.” The barbarian replies with a shrug. “We only just sat down before you came in.”

Beryl quickly nods, not willing to linger on anything even remotely negative with such a beautiful woman sitting across from her and her dearest love. “Aye,” she quickly nods in support, gaze darting up to the figure standing so close beside this elegant noblewoman. “And we ‘ad Vera ‘ere ta keep us company, so we weren’t left on our lonesome~.”

That scowling albino maid simply lifts her chin and pointedly ignores the teasing tomboy. With hardly a sound, she steps forward and gets to work, dutifully revealing the food that is soon to be served.

“I do hope that you were not pestering her too much.” The faintest hint of playfulness underlines her otherwise serious, but still friendly, tone. “As you nearly found out yesterday, her patience does have a limit and she is not afraid to bite.”

“Oh~?” Beryl’s blue-green eyes shine as she sees an opportunity to tease the maid, jumping on it without any hesitation. “So she’s a biter then~? We don’t mind tha’ at all~! Our Orc is one too~!”

Vera’s hateful gaze snaps towards that teasing tomboy of an Elf, her lips pursed together into an oddly adorable pout. Her gloved hand shakes slightly, clearly resisting the urge to clench it into a fist, as she carefully places a tiny porcelain cup containing an egg down in front of the Countess.

“Beryl...” The Drakling slowly sighs, shooting her sweet berry a stern look. Which doesn’t seem to land.

“Aye~?” Beryl’s elbow presses into the armrest of her chair, chin coming to rest atop her knuckles. Those long and pointed ears of hers continue to wiggle and waggle away. “Wha’ is the problem, my dearest love~?”

A gentle tinking sound draws the two lovers out of their impromptu staring contest.

“Do either of you have a preference for how you take your eggs?” Rina almost idly asks, lightly tapping the edge of a long but thin golden spoon against the egg she had only just been served, leaving a rather cleanly cracked line just above the rim of the little cup that it is sitting in. “Some people find certain recipes to be rather unappealing, despite it all being quite the same in the end.”

Beryl tilts her head to the side, taking a moment to consider that question. “When it comes ta eatin’? Not really.” She lazily returns, hardly reacting as another little cup with an egg in it is roughly placed in front of her, that thump echoing throughout the room. “It’s a different story if Ah ‘ave ta cook though. At tha’ point Ah’d probably just beat ‘em inta a single lump o’ mush. Or fry ‘em, if Ah’m tryin’ ta be a little fancy~.”

“Hahaha~!” The Countess lightly laughs, that sound so lively and lyrical. “Never have I heard scrambled eggs get described in such an unappealing yet still accurate way~!”

“Aye, well,” Beryl nonchalantly shrugs, her slightly smug expression betraying her casual tone. “Ah’m not the best cook~.”

“Neither am I,” Rina reaches out with her delicate fingers, gently grabbing onto the top half of her eggshell and cleanly lifting it free. “It has been many years since I have had to cook for myself, leaving me woefully lacking of practice. Though even back then I wasn’t particularly good at it: I often burned at least part of my food. Honestly, I feel spoiled by the cooking I get to enjoy each day.”

“Ah know wha’ ya mean. Our ‘alflin’ is by far a better cook than Ah am, and we’ve been eatin’ much better ever since bringin’ ‘er ‘ome.” The tomboyish Elf grabs the golden spoon resting by her plate and, much like Rina, begins using it to crack open the shell of her own hard-boiled egg. Her nimble hands trivialize that task, each swift strike perfectly aimed and accurate. “Though the stuff she makes isn’t quite as lavish as the dinner we ‘ad last night...”

Krvavy trails her gaze across the rest of the food, finding herself drawn towards a platter piled high with tiny sausages. She picks up a fork and begins to skewer those finger-sized snacks, moving them onto her plate one by one. “So... is this how you like your eggs then?” The barbarian idly asks, speaking up in a brief moment of silence and bringing the conversation back to that mundane topic.

“No, actually.” Rina responds with a gentle shake of her head, causing the two pearls dangling from each of her pointed ears to clack together. “I prefer them to be coddled. Or poached. Very similar methods, though coddling is a bit... gentler. Either way, it leaves the egg intact, albeit shell-less, with the whites quite soft and the yolk rather runny. That style pairs perfectly with simple buttered toast, for dipping or for placing the egg atop.”

Beryl raises a single bark-brown brow. “Then why’re these ones not cooked tha’ way?”

“Not everyone likes a runny yolk. So hard-boiled is a safe option. Besides, I cannot have my favourite every single day~.” The Countess playfully smiles, turning her gaze towards the Drakling. “What about you, Krvavy? Do you have a preference for your eggs~?”

“Ehh... I’m not really a picky eater, so I don’t really care as long as it is edible and tastes good.” Krvavy shrugs her shoulders and bites into one of the little sausages, barely having to chew before swallowing that tiny piece.

“Ach, my dearest love...” Beryl exaggeratedly sighs, leaning towards her Draconic lover. “Come on, ya can give a better answer than tha’~.”

“Not really.” The barbarian plainly disagrees, shrugging once more. “I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten an egg. I probably have at some point, but I have no idea how long it would have been. So, you know, can’t exactly claim to have a favourite if I’ve barely had any to begin with.”

A kind smile plays at Rina’s painted lips, gentle and understanding. “In that case, I do hope that you enjoy this one.”

Krvavy’s heart flutters, those warm words stunning her for just a second.

How lucky that Beryl is here to bring the barbarian back to her senses. Otherwise she may well have made a fool of herself. Which, if anything, is that Wood Elf’s job.

“Oh, she will~. My dearest love ‘ere is ravenous and’ll eat just about anythin’~. Ya’d really need ta try ta make somethin’ tha’ she wouldn’t want ta put in ‘er mouth~!” The teasing tomboy shoots her Draconic lover a rather smug smirk, knife-like ears wiggling with joy. “She doesn’t ‘ave very ‘igh standards when it comes ta food~. Women though~... Now tha’ is a different story~!”

The Drakling’s lips curl up into a slightly sadistic grin. “Yeah,” she agrees, “I’m here with Rina, after all~.”

“Oy~!”

The albino maid’s pale pink eyes narrow as she glares at the two lovers from across the table. Her gloved hands possessively press down onto Rina’s shoulders, giving her Lady a kneading massage.

Beryl heavily leans onto the armrest of her chair, reaching across the divide between her and the Drakling. But, luckily, that gap is just a little too wide. Krvavy only has to lean back to dodge those playful strikes.

The Countess relaxes into her seat, amethyst eyes glimmering with amusement as she watches that tanned tomboy’s assault on Krvavy reach its predictable end.

“Nhhhnooo~...!” The Wood Elf dramatically whines, unable to break free from the strong fingers that had just wrapped themselves around her wrist, stopping her gentle whack a hairsbreadth away from its intended target. “Come on~...! Lemme get a least a single ‘it~...!”

A victorious gleam fills Krvavy’s grin as she slowly forces her sweet berry’s arm back. “Nope, now eat your breakfast~.” She smugly orders, pushing the Elf back into her seat.

Vera simply scowls at that playful display, intensifying her massage as she looms behind the Countess.

“I must say,” Rina speaks up, her voice light and relaxed. “It is a shame that the two of you didn’t choose to visit Raseyne a week earlier.”

Krvavy’s brow furrows ever so slightly, slowing down just a little as she turns her attention back towards the food piled onto her plate. “Oh.” Realization washes over her just moments before she bites into another of those tiny sausages. “You’re talking about the whole ‘Midyear’ thing, right?”

“The summer solstice, yes.” Rina confirms with a nod, her jewellery quietly jingling. “It is an important date for a variety of reasons to a variety of people. But here in Raseyne, it is mostly an excuse to celebrate. And celebrate we do: our festivals last longer than most others in the region, starting earlier and ending later.”

“Ah suppose tha’ could’a made fer some fun dates...” Beryl idly muses, before shaking her head. “Ach, Ah’m not tha’ selfish though. It’d not be fair fer it ta just be me there wit’ my dearest love...”

The Countess’ golden spoon digs into her egg, bringing a small scoop of its well-cooked yolk up to her lips. As expected of a dignified and refined woman such as herself, Rina waits until she has swallowed that bite of food before speaking. “Yes, I can imagine that your relationship would lead to some... logistical issues.”

“Eh... not really?” Krvavy tilts her head to the side, taking a moment to actually think about it. “Well, okay. Maybe there are some issues, but not that many. I guess it helps that we don’t live in a city... if I want to spend time with my girls, I just spend time with them. Well, unless they’re busy with something... But still, it’s easier than having to plan date after date. If a bit... lazier...”

“It ‘elps tha’ we don’t mind sharin’ our dearest love.” Beryl adds, helping out her awkward lover. “Though, tha’ said, we don’t always share ‘er. Not like the two o’ us did last night, at least~.” She playfully winks at the Countess, ignoring the scornful look that draws from Vera. “Krvavy ‘ere is quite good at givin’ each and every one o’ us plenty o’ one-on-one time~. But Ah will admit tha’ she’ll ‘ave a ‘arder time wit’ tha’ as she collects more girls~. She can’t be everywhere at once, after all.”

The pink hue which normally colours this Countess’ cheeks becomes just a bit more vibrant, her Moon Elf heritage not enough to hide the tinge of red burning beneath her soft skin. “If I may ask... How often do you, ahem, ‘share her’?”

A rather impish smile finds its way onto the tomboy’s face, her blue-green eyes gleaming bright. “Depends on wha’ kind o’ intimacy ya’re askin’ about~. Just normal skinship and cuddlin’~? Every single night~. We all sleep on the same big patch o’ beddin’, naked bodies clingin’ onta ‘er or onta each other~. The kind o’ fun tha’ ya and Ah ‘ad last night is also pretty common~. Our dearest love ‘as needs, and it can be fun ta wake ‘er up by satisfyin’ those needs~. We can also get quite ‘andsy in the showers, if tha’ counts~.”

“‘We’?” Krvavy asks, skeptically staring at her sweet berry. “It is mostly just you and Kh– our Orc.”

Beryl raises a single finger into the air, half waving and half pointing that dexterous digit towards her Draconic lover. “Ya ‘ave ‘ad plenty o’ fun in the showers too, my dearest love, so don’t try denyin’ tha’~.”

The faint flush that fills Krvavy’s own cheeks is a lot harder to miss, that rosy pink contrasting against her pale and pallid skin. “Yeah, but that is more of a special occasion sort of thing, not something I get up to nearly every single time.” She replies with a long and heavy sigh, slowly shaking her head.

“My dearest love~,” amusement fills the Wood Elf’s voice as she meets that barbarian’s bland gaze. “Whenever ya’re in there wit’ us, ya end up bein’ the focus o’ our fun~. So ya can’t say tha’ ya don’t join in all the time~!”

“I’m not saying that.” The Drakling dryly defends herself. “I’m just saying that I don’t start those... lewd activities very often.”

“Ach, who cares if ya start them or not when ya’re the one benefitin’~?”

Knowing that there is no chance of her winning this, Krvavy simply shakes her head and turns her attention back towards her breakfast, doing her best to ignore the wide grin lingering at the edge of her vision. Her own hard-boiled egg sits untouched in its cup, and after a moment she decides to change that, grabbing the golden spoon resting by her plate.

“I presume that there are some common pairings amongst the different women in your relationship?” Rina’s tone remains relatively casual, but it is obvious that she can hardly contain her curiosity as she continues to ask her questions. That she has leaned forward in her seat is a dead giveaway.

“Aye!” Once again, Beryl answers before Krvavy can. “Both in everyday life and in our bed~.” She puts quite a bit of extra emphasis on those last two words, her bright eyes gleaming with a lively light. “Ah’d like ta say tha’ we’re all friends, as we all definitely get along quite well, but tha’ doesn’t mean tha’ we’re all equally close. Take me and the Dwarf fer instance. Ah like ‘er and she likes me, but we don’t spend all tha’ much time wit’ each other. Ah’m often down in the garden or out ‘untin’ while she spends most o’ ‘er time in ‘er workshop. We do still talk a fair bit though, so it isn’t like we’re strangers. Not tha’ we even could be, wit’ ‘ow often we sleep by the other’s side~.”

“Quite remarkable, for a Dwarf and a Wood Elf of all people to be friends~.” Rina playfully comments, giving Beryl the chance to take a brief bite of her breakfast.

“Aye, it ‘elps tha’ we’re both a bit odd~.” The tanned tomboy admits, holding back a light laugh. “Though more on ‘er part than mine. She’s a little radical fer a Dwarf, see~.” The last bit of yolk within Beryl’s hard-boiled egg is scooped out and swallowed down. “And ta keep talkin’ about ‘er... The differences between the Dwarf and Ah, both physical and in our preferences, means tha’ we don’t share Krvavy all too often. Unless it is somethin’ simple, like us just usin’ our mouths, tha’ is...”

“Yeah, she has a pretty low libido... at least compared to the rest of us.” Krvavy agrees with a nod, trying to act casual even though this conversation is causing her blush to burn ever brighter.

“Ach, tha’ is ‘ardly wha’ Ah’m talkin’ about.” The Wood Elf dismissively waves her little golden spoon through the air, keeping her attention on the Countess. “See, tha’ Dwarf ‘as some absolutely massive tits~. Biggest Ah’ve ever seen~! Really, they’ve got ta be three, four, times the size o’ my ‘ead, each~!”

“Hahaha~!” The pink-skinned half-Elf bring a hand up to her lips, though that does nothing to stop the musical sounds of her amusement from dancing across the table. “Krvavy said much the same when she first told me about her Dwarf~!”

“No surprise there~! My dearest love ‘as quite the thing fer big bountiful breasts~! So,” Beryl’s pointed ears twitch and wiggle as her lips curl into a smug smile, “Ah’m sure ya can imagine the kinds o’ thing’s that she and ‘er Dwarf get up ta~! It’s only natural tha’ those tits end up bein’ the focus~! But...! Tha’ puts me in quite the spot, as Ah am quite clearly not as blessed as our Dwarf, so Ah don’t really fit in wit’ tha’ kind of mood~. Not like our Orc, who ‘as some nice and big tits o’ ‘er own~. And when ya add on the fact tha’ the Dwarf ‘as more o’ a thing fer Krvavy’s size than fer other women... Well, tha’ naturally affects our pairin’s and group activities~.”

The Countess’ composure returns quite quickly, her amethyst eyes filling with inquisitive curiosity. “Oh? I would have assumed that all of the women in your relationship have quite the attraction towards other women. Perhaps not exclusively, to account for Krvavy’s unique biology, but a strong attraction all the same.”

“The Dwarf is the only one o’ us like tha’.” Beryl answers with a shrug, before frowning slightly as she begins to think aloud. “Except maybe the Orc? She’s definitely more focused on our dearest love’s cock, and the thought o’ bein’ bred... But she is still more than eager ta ‘ave some fun wit’ the rest o’ us... And then there’s the brat, who’d definitely claim ta not find other women attractive, though tha’d just be ‘er lyin’...”

“Uh, well...” The barbarian awkwardly speaks up as her sweet berry trails off. “The Dwarf... she still plays along even if she doesn’t get nearly as much out of it as someone like Beryl...”

A look of surprised realization briefly flits across the Countess’ face, quickly being replaced with a sympathetic smile. “I must apologize if this conversation is making you uncomfortable, Krvavy. We do not need to into the fine details of your love life.”

“I’m not exactly uncomfortable talking about this...” The Drakling’s can’t help but slightly lift her gaze, glancing at the albino maid looming above Rina. Those pale pink eyes, filled with malice and contempt, pierce into her very soul. “But...”

“Say, how about we move the conversation backwards just a little?” The Countess warmly suggests. Her calm and reassuring smile doesn’t quite counteract the sheer amount of animosity oozing from Vera, but it helps. “We can discuss the festivities that the two of you had missed out on. Perhaps to encourage a visit next year~?”

“Wait, wha’?!” The tomboyish Elf snaps free from her thoughts, looking scandalized by the change in topic. “Ach, fine...” She slowly sighs. “We can always pick this back up later...”