Chapter Text
The timing couldn't have been worse.
You had barely gotten through your last battle with a third Lightwarden when you began to feel the symptoms.
At first, you had merely chalked it up to another side effect of absorbing the excess Light, feeling light headed and feverish. But as you arrived back at the Crystarium, you began to feel restless and frustrated, your eyes lingering on your male companions a little longer than you'd care to admit.
It wasn't until you caught yourself admiring the fine details in the muscles on Urianger's exposed arms that you realised what it was.
A heat.
You had quickly excused yourself, claiming to feel sickly and exhausted from the events of the past battle, hoping the Scions would accept this without prying and leave you to rest for as long as you needed.
Though you weren't sure just how long you needed.
Locked away in the privacy of your room in the Pendants, you had shed most of your clothes, hoping to feel some cool relief from the fever that devoured your whole body. It was a fire in your belly, between your legs, in your head. You paced around in circles, in a futile attempt to spend some of the seemingly excess energy you now possessed. A Viera of your age, you were all too familiar with this by now, and knew it could last anywhere from only a couple of days to a full week.
When you had entered the season back home in the Source, you always had a friend who provided a tincture to help ease the annoying symptoms, if you were not able to call upon a different kind of friend to help assist you for a night or two the old fashioned way. But here in the First there was no such assistance when it came to either, making it all the more frustrating as you weren't sure how many days you may be sequestered to deal with this on your own.
You threw yourself onto the bed, shedding the rest of your clothing as you writhed around on the sheets until you found a comfortable way to lay down. You ended up on your back, arms above your head, staring up at the ceiling with an embarrassed flush in your cheeks, despite no one being around to see you. Your legs lay open, the hot slick at your core cooling in the still air of your dark room.
A levinbolt of adrenaline shot through you as your mind flicked to a thought of the Exarch, your back arching and hips rolling forward as you imagined the robed man at the end of your bed, baring yourself to him. You let out a frustrated moan, accepting that this was how you would be spending at least the next night...
You slid a hand down between your slick folds, your fingers finding their target easily as you pictured the Exarch over you, his face obscured as it always was. It was all the more alluring to you now, imagining his mouth exploring your body, the sharp edges of the ornate trim of the hood pricking along your skin, his warm tongue and soft lips leaving wet kisses on your thighs, your stomach, your chest. You wondered how his one crystal hand would feel as it caressed you, imagining a cool sensation on your skin that sent a shiver over you, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. You threw your head back and squeezed your eyes closed, using one hand to massage and play with a breast, and rolling your hips into your other hand as you chased the climax that was already so tantalizingly close.
A knock on the door ripped you from your ecstasy, and you jolted upright with a gasp. You wondered for a moment if you simply imagined it, as you could barely hear anything over the sound of your own panting and the creaking of the bed as you writhed upon it.
You hurried to your feet and grabbed a robe to throw over yourself. You waited to hear movement from outside, hoping whoever it was would just leave if you simply didn't answer. Another knock came, and you rushed to the sink in the corner of the room to splash some water on your face.
"Just a moment!" You called out, wincing as your voice cracked.
Your throat was unbelievably dry, and you gulped down a handful of water from the tap before tidying your hair as best you could. As you turned to walk towards the door, you racked your brain trying to figure out who it may be. Surely the Scions were leaving you to rest? Maybe it was someone else, another citizen of the Crystarium in need of the Warriors help, and you felt obliged to at least check the urgency of their request before deciding whether to refuse them.
You grabbed the door handle, and with a deep breath, opened the door just enough to see who stood outside. Your belly twisted in knots as you recognized the hooded face. Your cheeks suddenly became hot and you stammered a greeting in a sad attempt to keep your composure.
"My friend, I-" The Exarch began, but soon stopped, giving you a strange look.
You immediately became self conscious, wondering if the way you looked betrayed your current predicament. No, you thought, you likely looked awful in your state and the Exarch must feel bad for interrupting what you hoped he thought was a restful sleep.
"Forgive me," He continued, lowering his gaze.
"I had not meant to disturb your rest. I heard you had fallen rather ill with a fever of sorts, and came to deliver a tincture in the hopes that it may offer some form of relief..."
His voice trailed off as he lifted a hand to show you a small vial of a blue liquid.
"Oh!" You exclaimed, opening the door a little wider and reaching to take the bottle from him, being overly careful to avoid your fingers touching his as you did.
"That's incredibly kind of you, thank you."
You went to place the bottle on the table behind you, feeling another bolt of levin shoot through you, leaving a trail of butterflies in its wake as you turned the bottle in your hands, the blue liquid shimmering from inside its crystal vessel. It was just like the Exarch to be so overly concerned with your well being, and the gesture was wholly appreciated. Whether or not it would provide the relief he claimed was another matter. You heard the Exarch nervously clear his throat, turning to notice he had reached for the door and had begun to slowly close it himself.
"Again, forgive me, Warrior." He spoke, his hooded face still turned down towards the floor, nervously avoiding looking at you.
"I shall leave you to rest now, undisturbed. I will ensure it be so. Please take as much time as you need, you have certainly earned the respite."
Before you could thank him again, the door closed with a soft click, and your shoulders dropped the tension you didn't realise you were holding. A wave of butterflies whirled in your belly as you thought of the kind gesture from the Exarch. You knew you looked a mess, and he seemed awfully sorry for disturbing you. But you admired that about him, the way he always had your best interest at heart, and you admit it felt good to be cared about. Right now it felt better than ever as those same butterflies shot down through your belly and between your legs, reheating your core with yet another fire. Your cheeks still hot from the earlier embarrassment, having thought such lewd thoughts about him just moments before he turned up with so innocent an agenda.
You sat on the bed, rubbing your thighs together, feeling how wet you had become. Eyeing the shimmering blue liquid for a moment, contemplating taking a sip to see if it would help soothe your boiling blood. You wondered if the Exarch knew just what sort of fever ailed you, and if he would be willing to lend a hand if he did. The thought sent another coil of fire through your core, throbbing even harder than before, and you were once again on your back, losing yourself in the pleasure. Imagining pulling back the layers of robes to reveal a strong but slender body, crystal snaking it's way around the lean muscles. The soft smile behind the hood planting kisses between your thighs before a warm, wet tongue finds its way inside you. You let out a breathy moan, arching your back as you slipped a finger inside yourself, desperate to mimic the feeling. You worked yourself with a feverish pace, trying to get back to the moment you were in earlier before you were so rudely interrupted. That damn Exarch, showing up here with his tonic, and his concern for you, and his kind words... with his sweet voice... from his beautiful mouth. Oh how you so longed to taste his lips on yours, feel his touch on your skin. You didn't even care that you couldn't look into eyes as he would climb on top of you, his eagerness throbbing for you as it teased the entrance to your core. You didn't even care that you had not even the faintest idea who he really was. You thrust another finger inside, your legs trembling and your breath hitching in your throat as you panted his title to yourself. It was in that moment you found the release your body yearned for, letting out an exhausted cry into the air, not caring if anyone could hear you at this point.
Your relief was short lived, however, as the burning arousal subsided for a mere moment before returning even stronger. You made a frustrated noise as you rolled over onto your stomach, shedding the robe entirely and wrapping a leg around one of the blankets as you got comfortable. You thought to simply force yourself to sleep, hoping when you awoke it would have passed, but your body seemed to be moving of it's own accord. Grinding your hips into the soft fabric, the friction against your sensitive and throbbing core sent wave after wave of both arousal and pleasure through you. You buried your face in the pillow, feeling your cheeks get redder as the Exarch once again entered your thoughts, imagining his hands snaking their way around your shoulders, down your back and over your hips. You let a soft moan out into the pillow as you realised just how badly you wanted to feel his fingers dig into the skin on your hips as he thrust his length into you from behind. You ached to be filled with his length, with his seed. You wanted to know what he felt like inside you, what his voice sounded like as he lost himself in his pleasure with you. The fire in your belly coiled tightly as you came close to yet another climax, and when it finally snapped and released all the building tension, you felt nothing but pure bliss. The utterly debauched noises that came from you were enough to make even the working girls of Limsa Lominsa blush. You lay for a moment, sticky and sweaty, muscles already rife with fatigue. For a moment, it felt as if this last orgasm had subdued the heat, until arousal slowly trickled back through your body. Before long, you were back to square one, feeling deprived of pleasure and in desperate need of physical touch once more.
You groaned and rolled off the bed, your thighs slick with wet as you walked toward the table. You struggled in frustration for a new moments as your slippery fingers failed to find enough purchase to open the vial. When you finally pried the lid off, you hungrily gulped the contents down, hoping it was enough slake the unholy thirst you had in your entire being. It tasted like a sweet rolanberry wine and felt icy cool as it ran down your throat. You were surprised to find it did indeed relieve some of the fever, not unlike the tinctures you procured in the Source for this very purpose, though you could tell its effects weren't nearly strong enough to completely quell it. You collapsed on the bed, body still teeming with aching lust, exhaustion taking you all the way into a deep and restless sleep where you would no doubt continue your fantasies...
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The Exarch gave a gentle knock on your door, fidgeting slightly with the vial in his hands. He felt badly upon hearing you had fallen ill, and he worried he may have pushed you too hard in the battles you fought on behalf of him. He felt it was only right he personally offer you something to aid in your recovery, for everything else he already owed you. He waited nervously for you to answer, but heard only a shuffle from the other side of the door. Maybe you don't want visitors, he thought to himself, wondering if he should simply leave the vial at the doorstep for you to collect when you wished. But what if you never opened your door again for as long as you stayed abed? Without thinking, he knocked again, and he cursed himself for it.
"Just a moment!" He heard you call out, and he noted you sounded weary.
He decided in this moment he would keep this interaction as brief as possible for your sake, not knowing just how much for his own sake it was also about to be.
The door opened slightly and your face came into view, peering out at him. Your cheeks looked flushed and your pupils were blown dark, sweat beading your forehead.
"My friend, I-" His words caught in his throat as his nostrils felt the sting of your scent, stronger than it ever had been before. He could smell the fever on you, and his blood began to boil in his veins as he recognised that particular bouquet of aromas. He had smelled it long ago in his youth, that warm, thick, sweet smell that lingered on a Miqo'te as she went into heat, a smell so full of lust and need and desire. It smelled mostly the same on you, but with a muskier and sweeter fragrance that seemed particular to Viera, and it urged him inside like a siren song as he felt himself grow feral. He lowered his gaze, trying to ignore the swelling in his groin, the images in his mind, his vision spinning and darkening as though a migraine was about to strike him down. He began to wonder if Y'shtola had set him up when she suggested he personally deliver a form of relief to their beloved Warrior of Light. There was no doubt in his mind that she would have known it was that sort of fever...
"Forgive me," He spoke finally, trying his best to keep his voice from wavering.
"I had not meant to disturb your rest. I heard you had fallen rather ill with a fever of sorts, and came to deliver a tincture in the hopes that it may offer some form of relief..."
He strained against himself as his groin throbbed, sending a bolt of levin though him. He reached out to hand you the bottle, still being sure to avert his wild eyes from yours, even though he knew you couldn't see them. He was grateful that your hands never touched as you took it from him and thanked him, as he feared his body would act on it's own accord if he felt even the slightest touch from you.
He watched the back of you as you turned and leaned forward to place the offering on the table, your shoulder exposed as the robe you had draped over yourself fell away slightly with the movement, revealing the nape of your neck. He wanted so badly to bite into your soft skin, leaving a mark to claim you, and his jaw clenched tightly at the thought. He quickly averted his eyes and caught sight of your foot, arched daintily as you balanced yourself over the table. He pictured grabbing you by the ankle as you lay under him, pulling you closer and throwing your leg over his shoulder as he buried himself deep inside you with a passionate thrust, his groin twitching and yearning to feel your hot, wet-
He cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to control himself and shoo the filthy images from his mind, thankful for the many layers of the robe concealing the throbbing and aching erection he now had, tugging at his belly, demanding for him to grab you and make you his with an unwarranted sense of urgency.
"Again, forgive me, Warrior." He said shakily, not even realising he had made a grab for the handle of the door and had begun to close it.
"I shall leave you to rest now, undisturbed. I will ensure it be so. Please take as much time as you need, you have certainly earned the respite."
It took everything in his power not to slam the door shut and take off back to the Ocular in a feverish sprint. He had been in the presence of a fair few Miqo'te during their heats, and it had so attracted him before, but nothing could have prepared him for the ferocity he felt in the presence of a Viera heat.
He had barely given time for the doors to close behind him before he began tearing off the robes now thick with your scent, desperate to be free of it, pawing clumsily at the layers as his staff clanged loudly onto the floor. He hadn't expected that at all when he learned of your ailment, nor did he expect to be so affected by it. He freed himself entirely from the confines of his clothing, the cool air of the Ocular offering little relief from the fever he now also felt.
He fell to his knees, a hand over his face as if to hide his shame as he desperately tried to think of anything else. He palmed gingerly on his engorged length, praying to all the gods above for it to go down, but the thoughts of you in various compromising poses in front of him wouldn't leave him alone, and before long he was feverishly stroking himself. He moaned your name shamelessly, picturing you alone in your room. He wondered who you thought about as you were doubtlessly pleasuring yourself with a fervor outmatching his own. Were you thinking of him? If so, was it the Crystal Exarch you pictured, or G'raha Tia? He wondered what his name would sound like dripping off your lips in your current state as you pleaded for him to enter you, and the thought brought him that much closer to the edge. His grip tightened, pace quickening as a fire broiled deep in his groin, twitching as it came close to a climax. That's when a pang of guilt suddenly hit him like a sucker-punch to the gut.
"No!"
He cried out in frustration, releasing his grip on himself and slamming his fists on the floor.
His aching groin twitching and pleading for a return of his touch, but he refused it.
What was he doing?
What had become of him so?
How could he even think such thoughts of you, the great Warrior of Light?
All your glory and heroism, the great deeds you had done which so earned his respect and more, and he all but cast it aside to reduce you in his thoughts to some mewling object fit to please him. Shame engulfed him as he buried his head in his hands, tail thrashing angrily behind him.
No, that is not what you deserved from him, you deserved far better from someone who called himself your friend.
If anything, he should be the one reduced to nothing but an object, made to be used as you saw fit... that was more befitting of what you deserved.
Yes, he thought, as he sat up and straightened out.
Yes, for all the things you had ever done for everyone else in your life, he thought, the way you always put others first, put your life on the line time and time again, it seems the least he could do was something for you instead. Oh, if you would but ask him in this moment to help you in the fever that has claimed you, the one that now claims him as well, he would do anything you ask. He knew it would be wrong, but he did not care in this moment, in this heat, he yearned to take your ache away.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, taking his hair out of its braid and letting the strands fall lazily at his nape. If you could only see him as he was now; on his knees, his arms at his side, hands gripping the cold floor. His throbbing groin twitching expectantly at the air, but he still denied it the touch it yearned for. That was his punishment, his atonement for letting his imagination get the better of him. He sat this way for many minutes as he thought of you, looking down on him, so powerful, so above him. How he ached to be entirely at your mercy... You could step on him right now and he would let you, the sharp heels of your sandals pricking painfully into his skin as you reminded him of his place beneath you. He was nothing compared to you, and he would serve you as you so wished. He would use his hands on every part of you that you wanted him to as they craved to touch your skin, to caress your thighs, his mouth leaving hungry kisses on them, on your hips, on your belly. He would use his tongue to lap at your slick core, the taste of you lingering in his mouth, driving him to please you so passionately, doing as he was told...
He angrily shook his head, fists slamming once more onto the floor as he doubled over with an agonized moan.
Again he let his imagination run free, and he deserved nothing else less than that. He scrambled to his feet and rushed through the Ocular to his chambers, his body burning so hot he thought he might collapse. He braced himself against the vanity of the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. He had never seen himself look so weary and debauched. His hair was a mess, sticking to his skin with sweat, his ears turned back, cheeks flushed so hard they were nearly the same colour as the Allagan red in his eyes. Those selfsame eyes whos normally thin pupils were dilating and contracting to the rhythm of every bout of throbbing he felt in his groin. He looked positively feral, and he was glad for the amount of restraint he showed in your presence, as he feared he would have made more than a fool of himself had he not.
He turned on the shower and stepped inside, letting the freezing cold water wash over him as he leaned with his arms outstretched against the wall. His breath tightened in his chest from the sudden and drastic difference in temperature, but he welcomed it with a sigh of strained relief. He watched with bated breath as the swelling in his groin began to shrink away.
There he would stay, he decided, for as long as it takes for this to pass, and he would but banish all thoughts of you from his mind altogether until it did.
Feeling his body finally begin to rid itself of the aching fever, he closed his eyes and slumped to the shower floor, back against the wall, bringing his knees to his chest as he drifted into a cool sleep.