Grunhilda happily returned the favor of covering Gilda in lather with the black soap. Although she was a bit too soft and careful at first, before Gilda got the full benefits of its texture. She had to tell Grunhilda a few times. Afterwards, it was also incredibly cute to see Grunhilda sitting in front of her and taking her sweet time to rub it over Gilda’s soapy chest. All too obviously patting her and enjoying every second of it. Gilda would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it too.

The others didn’t take long to make their way into the room. But instead of coming with the older Loremaster, supposedly Madam Gelinda, Gil crossed the archway with Gertha. And the lime griffoness pressed her step to keep up with the mercenary’s bouncy spring.

Gertha really seemed happier than Gilda would have expected. Maybe she was just resilient. Because the pink griffoness simply didn’t seem to care that she had effectively lost her freedom to come and go as she pleased. Or maybe she truly believed she had hit it big following Gilda.

A cocked eyebrow at those thoughts went unseen by the others. In the end, Gilda was happy Gertha would be there. She and her brother seemed competent. It was true she hadn’t seen them actually fighting, but they had decent gear. Gillian hired them. So, they must be good. Not to mention that they did come across some bad griffons on the way, and those got spooked away.

“Hey! Mind if I help you, Gertha?” Gil piped up, also surprisingly cheery, talking to the mercenary gal.

Huh… Gilda really should start talking like the northerners. It just seemed weird to use the word ‘queen’ like they did. The older griffons back in her old home used ‘tom’ for the guys and ‘hen’ for the ladies. But it always made Gilda feel like they were calling her after a domesticated bird that isn’t particularly intimidating. But ‘queen’ was even worse.

She frowned a bit at all the customs that differentiated the south and the north. But she supposed that since she was in The Harpy’s home team, she was supposed to use the ‘right’ words. Anyway… Just some stray thoughts.

“Not at all! Uh… Are you okay?” The mercenary queen gave the smaller griffoness a half-concerned, half-confused frown. “You were kinda stressed out back there…”

“Oh no! No, no…” Gil smiled waaaay too much at the other. “Well, a little. But I’m fine now! I understand that the madam Loremaster was just worried about me!”

Gilda listened to them, and squinted at the smaller griffoness’ words, but said nothing.

Regardless, after a second or two of staring at the slightly smaller and grinning lime-colored griffoness, Gertha shrugged mindlessly. “Well, okay. You can help me, sure!”

“Great!” Gil followed her into the water with a bouncy spring of her own.

The other two walked naturally into the hot water and the older Loremaster, Gelinda, came over to Gilda. Funny enough, Grunhilda took a curious stance of not paying attention and focusing on her job of rubbing the black soap on Gilda’s chest. As though any conversation that was bound to happen there didn’t concern her.

It mildly amused Gilda to see Gelinda pet Grunhilda’s head before she spoke, though. “May I ask you a personal question, Lady Gilda?”

“I think we’re kinda past asking permission for personal questions.” Gilda gave her a playful smirk and the older griffoness responded with a good and honest chortle.

“True that. Would you be willing to mother a cub?” Gelinda asked after a while, again, petting Grunhilda’s head, letting her fingers between the feathers in her head.

Was that a trick question or something? At first thought, it had come out of the blue, but Gilda supposed that if she was so pure and so special, they would want her to give them a little Gilda, or something.

It just seemed curious that The Harpy never asked it of her. Maybe she was waiting until Gilda got to Griffindell? That too would be reasonable.

“Do be honest, Gilda.” Gelinda smiled and spoke mischievously. “A cub is no small responsibility. The Allmother will hold you accountable. All griffons are her children, after all.”

“Would I get to choose the father?” Unbelievably enough, she was considering the proposition. She would have probably taloned across the face anyone that asked that in her old life.

Gee… It’s not like she even considered if the guy would be hot or anything… She was more concerned about… You know… Rearing a cub!

With unsettling disorientation, her own words transported Gilda back in time inside her head. She was young Ghadah again, holding the white and gold tray stained with blood before the mighty griffoness in her sanctum.

Still with her black paws stained red from the life fluid of the sacrifice Ghadah had brought, the larger griffoness reached for the small yellow one holding the platter. Much faster than Ghadah would ever have reacted to. The tray clattered to the floor with a metallic clank as Gilda let escape a frightened yelp in Ghadah’s softer voice and found the floor was gone.

The great griffoness held her up by the forelimbs and Gilda shared Ghadah’s fear. Although ‘fear’ wasn’t the right word. It was apprehension. She knew intrinsically the formidable creature loved her infinitely… But love often took many forms, some of them unusual or painful. And The Mother of Storms was intimidating in any situation.

Gilda pulled her hindlegs. The anxiety forbade her from simply relaxing and letting them go limp. But the other griffoness didn’t mind that. Her icy eyes scanned Gilda’s body, from her young, flushed face to the soft fur in the inner sides of her thighs.

She felt the hotness in Ghadah’s face and all her discomfort at being exposed like that, under the other’s mercy. It was almost childish, as that was the Allmother, and as Ghadah was already very familiar with ‘the things adults do’. It didn’t help at all that Ghadah kept thinking about The Emperor and herself. Doing lewd things. That as a fledging disciple Swordmaiden Ghadah earned for him to desire her and even much more for the acceptance from the Mother of Storms.

What if She decided that Ghadah, despite her sacrifice wasn’t good enough? Gilda knew, but the young and insecure griffoness didn’t.

The Harpy was the one that kept everything. All of Ghadah’s future lied behind her stripped wings, and the fact that Ghadah’s sacrifice had pleased her. Although a good beginning, it was barely the beginning.

“A perfect little kitten…” The Harpy spoke slowly, playfully delighted. “I would expect no less from your mother and your sire. Such perfection. A true daughter of mine. He will be very pleased.”

With that Gilda found herself in another place, later that night. Unlike Gilda, Ghadah had known luxury in her life and even she thought that room was almost too luxurious. Black and white marble everywhere and pillars that surrounded the room. Several tables by the walls were covered with white silk and electrum utensils. Foods of all sorts littered them, and in one of them some of it had been thrown to the floor by over-enthusiastic griffons that decided the table would be their love nest. There was a small stage where a group of griffons had been singing and playing musical instruments before they all went to sleep. The musicians were probably to be found among the griffons spread around the room.

It was the ‘meeting hall’ in the Inner Sanctum where The Harpy lived. In the innermost part of her temple that was the stepped pyramid with the gardens. The heart of Aen Hader.

Ghadah woke to the discomfort of a full bladder and no luxury in the world would help. But standing up from the bed would be too much a chore. The desert air was chilly, and the bed was so incredibly soft, even compared to the beds Ghadah knew. She snuggled comfortably to the griffon behind her and the one in front of her. Groggy with sleepiness and tiredness, she decided to just remain there.

The urge was irresistible though, and she became aware of the soreness in her genitals. She groaned softly, extricating herself from the two griffons she slept in the middle of. A large griffon held her, and she was as careful as she could not to disturb his sleep.

With slow movements, she managed to free herself without waking him up. Despite the discomfort, she was still enthralled by the sight of the mighty griffon sleeping there. Dark brown over a bulky body and white on his head and fluffy chest. A very common, yellow-orange beak and a couple of faint scars that complemented his sturdy look. His beak had a small piece chipped off it, but it added to his wild appearance. To call him ‘big’ and ‘powerful’ would be an understatement. Strong facial features, with a perpetual scowl, despite his relaxed sleeping expression.

She didn’t fear him -he had been nothing but gentle- but waking him would be rude. Still, she blushed at the sight of him in his sleep, even more so as the memories of the earlier hours of the night returned to her.

Behind him was Aya Harpyia. Mighty and majestic as only she could be. She had her black paw and obsidian talons, holding his shoulder and her wing draped over him. Possessively, as though she wanted to keep him to herself. She breathed slowly, in and out, and laid almost on top of Emperor Grigor I.

The beautiful Empress Geneviere was there too, on the other side of the space Ghadah had occupied. Peacefully sleeping too. But where the Emperor was bulky in his powerful appearance, she was elegant. A little thin. Even without the rich multicolored cape she typically wore, she was a sight to behold. Truth be told, she was one of the most beautiful creatures Ghadah or Gilda had ever seen.

Other than The Harpy, of course.

The whole evening had been a spectacle. From the games in honor of the Emperor to the sacrifice of twenty-five hundred slaves in the name of The Harpy. The sacrifice that Ghadah herself had enacted crowned the festivities. But it didn’t stop just because dinner was done, and the Emperor had retired inside with his family.

It was a veritable hall, filled with dozens of beds, couches, chaise-longues, large pillows... All sorts of furniture griffons could use to have sex. There was music.. There were dances, fights. Poems were read. More food and strong beverages, topped with an utterly debased orgy of the kinds Gilda only imagined from the descriptions of history books of ancient Equestria. Because the damn griffons were irrepressible prudes.

Or so Grover wanted the present griffons to think. Maybe it was part of the way he meant to fight The Harpy. Maybe, in his head, the debauchery was part of what caused the issues that would cause him to rebel.

Gilda’s thoughts notwithstanding, Ghadah came close to chastising herself at the way she had surrendered herself that night.

Gilda felt like the young griffoness feared someone might be judging her when the memories reached the foreground of her mind. Gilda didn’t consider herself submissive… But Ghadah’s own feelings were overwhelming. In how much she judged herself and shamefully admitted to how much she enjoyed the depraved show she starred within the debauched celebration that happened in that room. In front of dozens of griffons, and in the way she surrendered to the three, allowing them to use her one by one.

Well, the bottom line, as far as Gilda was concerned, was that if everyone enjoyed it, it was a win. She didn’t judge Ghadah, but she also supposed that her shame was part of the fun for her.

But Ghadah didn’t have the luxury of standing there to think. She walked softly on the white sheeted bed, careful not to disturb either of the older Swordmaidens sleeping in the lower part of the bed when she stepped down.

It was a round bed in two heights, the highest one being the round center. The sort of thing that one didn’t just build if not for the express purpose of ostentation. But it was the sort of luxury that was the due of the Allmother and the Emperor, after all.

Ten of them. Ghadah’s soon to be Swordmaiden sisters, comfortably sleeping, cuddling together or by themselves, curled under their own wings.

Lurking out of the bedroom, under the moonlight that entered the room from its many curtained balconies, Ghadah passed by a large couch close to the bed in the center. One where Grover slept. Like a cub under the watch of one of the older Swordmaidens that shared the couch with him, softly caressing the feathers in his crest while another snoozed, cuddled with him. The first looked at Ghadah but said nothing. Only smiled at her and her big eyes.

Gilda supposed that he was part of the family, after all. Before the rift that developed between the emperor and his brother-in-law.

Other griffons in the opulent room included Ghadah’s own mother and her father, sleeping together in another one of the couches. One of the Emperor’s sons and other Swordmaidens. Important griffonesses too. Dignitaries of the empire, prestigious enough to partake in The Harpy’s celebrations. But Ghadah didn’t linger in the room for long enough to recognize all of them.

She walked as silently as a griffon could, listening to the assorted giggling and snoring. Sounds of snoozing griffons, until she came to one of the Swordmaidens going the same way out of the room.

Her cyan fur and feathers were ruffled out of place and with spots of sticky feathers in her white fluffy chest. She gave Ghadah a knowing smirk, followed by a teasing tone in her mellow voice. Still, she kept the volume down, even in the corridor outside the room.

“First time?” She mewled at Ghadah and smelled of alcohol and bodily fluids related to sex.

“Yeah…” Gilda felt Ghadah’s sudden bright hot blush, and she didn’t say anything further, only massaged her foreleg with a paw and looked away. Fortunately, Gilda’s laugher at her host’s awkwardness remained only with her. Especially because she cringed at herself right after. At the notion that she would have felt the same way in Ghadah’s place.

They walked on the black granite of the corridor, surrounded by black stone and torches that provided dim light until they entered the toilet room. One of the marks of a luxurious home, and conveniently close to the hall.

There was an open slit in the ceiling that let the air flow and two rows of toilets that would’ve caused Gilda to implode with embarrassment on either side of a trench with running water. But that didn’t bother Ghadah as she simply took her place in one of the literal holes on a stone tablet and squatted to relieve herself of her full bladder.

She relaxed for a second while the older griffoness, on the other side of the room, gave her a lewd grin. “Did you like it?”

Ghadah’s blush only grew hotter with her eyes training down. “I- Yeah…”

The cyan griffoness giggled. “The new ones are always so cute.”

At a loss for words, Gilda just waited a few seconds until Ghadah was done with her business and hurried out of the room. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, though. Should she just climb back into the bed and pretend she hadn’t left? Or something?

Walking past the door, and among the beds and couches, she saw the empress wasn’t on the bed anymore. Ghadah’s eyes flew wide open, and she almost panicked at the notion that she might have done something wrong. But she soon found the pink griffoness sat at a small table close to the large opulent bed. The empress invited her to sit with a smile and a small nod.

Ghadah obeyed without thought, despite her slow movements so that she didn’t disturb the others in the room and sat across the table from the empress. It had a small, but gorgeous tea set and a plate with small morsels of fried meat and some dried dates.

Geneviere gingerly served a cup of tea and spoke softly. “Did it hurt?”

Then, she smiled at Ghadah, offering the cup for her to hold.

Ghadah just shook her head and the empress served herself some of the tea too, smiling pleasantly. “Sometimes the younger ones don’t deal very well with the ritual deflowering. Everyone hates the scene that can come out of it, but I dislike it more when they just pretend and then cry alone in their rooms.”

Gilda would’ve grimaced at the awkward subject, but Ghadah just shook her head. “Don’t worry, your majesty.”

Ghadah really had no reservations, but there was one particular detail that made the conversation awkward. More than it would already be.

“Don’t worry, kitten.” The empress grinned at her as though she could read her thoughts. The pink griffoness’s feathers and fur were significantly messed up in her wings and her head. Both Ghadah and Gilda supposed that he had been much rougher on her than on Ghadah. “Just remember that I am the Empress and his mate, and it will all be fine.”

Ghadah nodded, more to herself. And then she took a sip of the tea. It was bitter and unpleasant.

“Witchweed.” The empress smiled at her again, and her eyes guided Ghadah’s to the great griffoness sleeping with the emperor in the bed. Her voice became even softer, as Geneviere made herself smaller and shared a knowing smile with Ghada. “She doesn’t like it. But She is also reasonable. Right now, a cub would be a hinderance to your career.”

“She doesn’t want the Emperor’s blood mixing with the wrong griffons…” Geneviere explained to an attentive Ghadah. “So, she provides him with all the most exquisite queens she can find. You see, a Swordmaiden is a tool of The Harpy. We are to represent her power, her majesty, and her beauty. We are trained to be the best fighters so that we can advance her will, through force, fear, or presence. Where her Loremasters educate, we enforce. We are an example and punishment if needed.”

“Think of yourself as a member of the imperial family.” Geneviere smiled with a warm and caring aura that Ghada’s own mother rarely demonstrated. “With all the benefits and luxuries. No one else has access to the Emperor the way we do.”

But then she became serious. “To him, we are a reminder of Her will. We are an extension of Her. We are his mates. We are his guardians. And we are also his gilded cage. We are Her control over him. You will take these words to heart, and you will never utter them again.”

Ghadah had already given the Empress all her attention, but as the other’s voice grew softer and her head lowered a little, like sharing a secret, the young griffoness was that much more attentive to the older one’s words.

“She is infertile. Thus we are the mothers of his cubs, the closest thing she can get to mothering for him.” Ghadah didn’t say anything. She only listened as the pink griffoness still spoke and the weight of her words pressed on her. “You are free to have sex with other griffons, but you don’t want to know what she does to a Swordmaiden that allows another griffon’s seed to bear fruit in her womb any more than you want to know what she would do to you if she ever learned that you drank this tea again after he has given you his seed.”

Ghadah’s eyes shifted from the large black and white griffoness in the bed to Geneviere. Back and forth a few times. “Your majesty is drinking the tea…”

“She’s not looking.” The empress took another sip of her own tea.

Just as suddenly as she had found herself in the past, Gilda was back in the present with the Loremaster staring at her blushing cheeks. Waiting for her to say anything.

“I- Uh… It’s not that I don’t like the idea…” Gilda’s heart thumped in her chest. “I just hadn’t considered it yet.”

“I understand.” The tone on the old griffoness’ voice implied she understood more than the mere words could convey. It made Gilda’s skin crawl. It was the same kind of stare the Allmother had over her when they met in Gilda’s dreams. It was unnerving as all heck and Gelinda’s friendly smile afterward didn’t really help. “Come to me if you have questions.”

Gilda had always thought of having cubs as the most binding thing an adult could do. It gave her a hard time just trying to figure out why they did it and she understood that Greta and Gary didn’t have any.

Was it enough to make her turn tail, though? To give up on all that she had been given and promised? While the Loremaster distanced herself and minded her own business, Gilda’s gaze found Gertha relaxing in the hot, steamy water while Gil enthusiastically scrubbed her back with a brick of the black soap.

Then she found Grunhilda, pawing at her chest with the most dedicated of stares as though rinsing the soap out of the fluffy feathers was her life’s mission.

The realization hit her. Dull and muffled. Clouded and obnubilated, as though she watched a distancing shore, from the stern of a ship that had sailed quite some time ago.

But then she frowned. A stern and cold frown. Because it was still better than ending up beaten and raped in a dirty street in Griffonstone. And she also took Ghadah’s memory to heart, as a sign that things weren’t that written in stone.

“Hum… I think we’re done, Miss Gilda.” Grunhilda’s soft voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“Come on.” Gilda held her beak affectionately and shook it a little with a smile. “The cold bath is supposed to be healing and we could use it after all the shit we been through.”

Not to mention that she could also use a cold bath after that vision. Dream. Memory. Whatever the heck that was. But as Grunhilda walked in front of her, she allowed herself a good, long stare at her shapely butt.

But then she playfully pulled at Grunhilda’s tail. “You’re supposed to follow me, Big Girl.”

The other squeaked and sat in the water with an apologetic stare. Gilda winked at her with a grin, rubbing herself against the white griffoness as she walked past in a way that went way, way beyond friendly teasing, complete with her tail flicking at her chest after dragging over her side.

“Why do you call her Big Girl, boss?” Gertha asked as Gilda walked past her.

She looked a bit silly with Gil behind her, massaging her head and with all the foam like a headdress. She had a genuine curious expression, though.

“Uh… Because she’s so much bigger than I am?” Gilda cocked an eyebrow.

To her surprise, Gil and Gertha exchanged a stare before turning back to Gilda. Then Gertha rubbed all the foam from her head and stood next to Gilda. Who was almost shocked to see that Gertha was about a paw shorter than she.

“You’re huge, boss! And really easy on the eyes!” The pink griffoness gave her an unsure grin. “Oh… Did I say that out loud?”

Gilda’s response was blinking her eyes a few times. Then staring at Grunhilda that had her dumb expression of nothing to add, and then back at the mercenary.

What the actual… She could swear she was shorter than Grunhilda!

Gilda stood next to her thrall, and she was actually almost as tall as Grunhilda was. The other was still bulkier, but Gilda wasn’t as far behind as she thought she was. Had she grown up since meeting Grunhilda? She cocked her head and blinked again. “Huh…”

After a second or two of awkward silence, it was Grunhilda’s giggling that broke through. “More Gilda for me!”

Hot blushing and quieted giggling followed. Gilda struggled for a second with her words, pointing at the door to the cold bath. “Well… Come on. Get your hind moving, you dweeb!”

“Hum… You told me to follow you.” Grunhilda whined and the others laughed a little louder.

Gilda pointed more emphatically, with her wet feathers ruffling and flushed cheeks growing hotter. “Well, I’m telling you to go first now!”

Grunhilda squeaked and her flared wings threw water everywhere before she galloped awkwardly in the water to the stairs out of the pool. Gilda followed, as dignified as she could.

She walked along the border to the side, doing her best not to stare at the others still in the water, while Grunhilda stood on her hindlegs and pulled open the heavy door to the other side. The shock in the difference of temperature startled Gilda a little, but it was quite pleasant after the initial impact.

Grunhilda let her pass and then pulled the door closed. The room became darker than the other, but still lit enough that Gilda could see all the details. The same minimalist decoration in shades of blue and white, pillars too. On the other side of the room were round beds for resting and the whole room felt just more peaceful.

In the water were more of the little wooden bowls, but they had elaborate censers. Metal pots with grills that let the soft red shine from the embers show and highlight the soft scented smoke. They even had small statuettes of standing griffon.

Gilda watched as Grunhilda hopped into the water from the lateral border rather than walking to the stairs. She dipped herself into the water and then shook it off, flaring her wings and whining. “This isn’t even cold!”

Gilda hopped into the water too and it wasn’t cold. It was almost freezing! Her feathers ruffled and she grimaced like she was going to flash-freeze right there.

Grunhilda gave her a puzzled stare while Gilda shivered and chuckled with a broken voice. “I suppose that your ancestry makes you cold resistant, or something.”

Then it became bearable. Cold, but bearable. Even comfortable.

That place was nice, though. Not a lot of smells other than the smoky-flowery scent from the censers. No noises either, as the large and heavy doors isolated them. While Gilda looked around, Grunhilda walked over to her, pushing one of the bowls with the censers with her head, bringing the aroma closer to them.

“Come here…” Gilda pulled Grunhilda to her and let herself rest against the border with the pearly blue tiles. Grunhilda didn’t resist and Gilda held her against her body.

She was hot compared to the water, and stiff. She blushed, with wide-open eyes and Gilda blushed a little too, but she held the other against her.

“The point is to relax… You know?” She poked Grunhilda between the eyes, softly, and Grunhilda let out a shy giggle. She managed to relax with that, though. Her body became as soft as only another body could be against Gilda’s own. She even let out a content sigh, resting her belly against Gilda’s.

They quieted, and even then Gilda couldn’t hear the others in the hot room. There was barely any sound other than the soft sloshing of the water. She could hear Grunhilda’s soft breathing and felt her heart beating in her chest.

Her mind filled with questions she wanted to ask Grunhilda. Did she really like to be with her, or was it some sort of duty? Was she actually alright, after learning her parents’ story? She was a bit shaken earlier, after all. Did she want to be… Free? Was that the word? Did Grunhilda expect Gilda would eventually release her of her bind?

Gilda also wondered about her present situation. She supposed she could do worse than The Lion for… Even thinking about it was awkward… A father for her cubs. The gears in her head refused to spin. She didn’t know how to hash out that whole thing.

It all washed away when Grunhilda rested her head snugly against her chest and neck. Slowly, Gilda’s paws stroked Grunhilda’s fur, then feathers, and she held her tighter.

Gilda didn’t sleep, but her mind emptied. Only the water and Grunhilda’s breathing remained. The voice in her head respected that peace and said nothing. It was what that place was meant for, and the cold water worked its magic on her. Relaxing.

Only after some time -she didn’t know how long- she stirred a little as her mind spun again. She wondered what was meeting the innkeeper invited her for about. She could see the old Loremaster whispering in the shadows. But that didn’t worry her. She was supposed to trust the Loremasters, after all.

Grunhilda stirred too, with a small yawn, and Gilda smiled softly, petting her feathers and down her neck.

“This is nice…” The Not-So-Big-Girl-After-All warbled calmly.

“It sure is.” Gilda smiled. “Let’s get your feathers fixed now.”

“Okay.” She stood lazily and followed Gilda out of the pool with another yawn.

Gilda wasn’t sure how that worked, but the cold water worked miracles. She was never so relaxed and so clean. So fresh. Her joints were free, and muscles reinvigorated. She was ready for another day’s worth of flight.

Next to the beds were small stands with neatly folded white towels. Soft as cotton and white as snow. Fluffy and apparently, very absorbent. Gilda happily grabbed one and opened it, beckoning Grunhilda, who sat with her back to her.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy patting down Grunhilda’s strong body with the towel and the other clearly enjoyed just as much with happy, soft warbles. Grunhilda also beat her wings a few times to get them dry. Gilda did the same when it was her turn, and Grunhilda also took her sweet time rinsing off the water from Gilda’s body.

Apparently, they had reached some sort of equilibrium where they were fine touching one another, and Gilda’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of ‘escalating’ on that feeling.

But while she was at it, Grunhilda beaked softly at Gilda’s nape. Softly at first, but she grew more confident when Gilda didn’t complain. The tiredness from the flying was gone. That bath had been positively invigorating and Gilda’s rested body easily became frisky, and she was absolutely sure that Grunhilda was horny as could be.

But that wasn’t the time yet.

They left the towels in the drier hangers nearby and walked to one of the beds. A round thing with a wood structure covered in cow hide and with a much fluffier and nicer hide for laying on top. Grunhilda put a paw on it and gave Gilda an inquisitive stare.

“Come on.” Gilda climbed onto the bed and laid near the center. Grunhilda followed when she patted the hide.

Grunhilda just plopped down, with her head up and looking awkward. “Uh… What do I do?”

“Relax.” Gilda grinned at her, pulling Grunhilda’s wing open. “Let me show.”

Gilda reached forward and bit at the base of one of the larger primaries in Grunhilda’s wings. Zipped her beak along the feather and Grunhilda looked at her ‘new and tidy’ feather, slightly damp, as though it was a mystery of nature with an awestruck ‘oooooooh’.

“See? No sweat!” Gilda chuckled. Then she showed Grunhilda her wing. “Give it a try.”

“Okay!” Grunhilda grinned and tried mimicking Gilda’s gesture. She chewed awkwardly for a bit, with an annoyed grunt before she got it the right way, but she managed well enough with some patience. Such a simple thing that anyone could have taught her.

But it was better not to think of that.

“That’s it!” Gilda chortled, checking her wing. “It’s better to preen after bathing. But you can do it whenever you feel your feathers aren’t, you know, ‘right’. Most griffons will take some time off their day to do that. It can be very relaxing, and it helps getting your mind out of stuff.”

Grunhilda nodded enthusiastically and with a huge grin.

“Yeah, well… You can do it alone.” Gilda went on, raising a talon. “But friends often help each other.”

“Oh…” Grunhilda made a sad face and her eyes shifted away.

Gilda’s beak showed a knowing smile. “Hey… Couples do this too. I know some great ones that love doing this together. It’s a nice bonding exercise. You know… Before the actually steamy stuff.”

“Now, come on.” She winked at Grunhilda and scooted closer, hugging her with her forelegs and a smile.

Rubbing neck against neck and holding the other, Gilda proceeded to peck at Grunhilda’s feathers on her nape. Soon after Grunhilda did the same, mimicking Gilda’s pulling softly at the feathers. That feeling was the sort of thing that only other griffons would understand. Untidy feathers were just uncomfortable and that was like reaching a scratch that’s bothering you into madness. But better.

She supposed that hippogriffs would understand. And that the pony equivalent would be combing their manes and tails. Or something. She didn’t feel like thinking about dumb hippogriffs or ponies with Grunhilda’s smell in her nostrils and her pillow of fluffy feathers in her neck. So soft and so warm in that cold place.

“You gotta pull out the loose smaller, fluffier feathers,” Gilda softly beaked at her friend’s soft feathers. “And comb the good ones together. So that they resist the water when you’re flying into clouds and rain. That also makes it all feel that much more comfortable.”

“Okay!” The other chirped so happy she caused Gilda to raise an eyebrow in surprise, but the latter said nothing.

They quickly caught on to the rhythm of the process and it was simply relaxing and… Just. Nice. It was a nice feeling doing that with someone else, after so many years of living by herself.

She could have shared a moment like that with Greta, but she was married to Gary and they rarely would have had the time and the moment without him nearby or when he couldn’t barge in on them. It was just awkward. And Grunhilda was such a nice and willing partner.

Speaking of barging in, the heavy door to the hot room opened, but the hot air didn’t reach them. Gertha pushed the heavy door with her shoulder and a struggling frown.

“Man! This thing is heavy!” She grimaced, straining through the act and her feet slipped a bit on the floor. Gia, the older Loremaster and Gil walked past, with the last one stopping to watch as Gertha closed the door again.

“The door is meant to isolate the temperatures.” Gia explained. “Also, this room is meant for relaxation. The cold water helps and has several beneficial effects after the hot bath with the soap and oil.”

“And that is why you should shut your beak.” Gelinda pointed at Gilda and Grunhilda relaxing and taking care of each other’s feathers.

Gia showed an annoyed frown, but she did shut her beak.

“So, I just get in the water and… Chill?” Gil looked down at the water.

“Pretty much.” The pink mercenary chuckled. “Be careful. It’s cold. But it feels really nice after a while.”

Having heard the other, Gil looked back at the water and poked a finger into it with a squeak.

“Just get in the stupid water…” Gilda growled from the bed. “You’ll get used to it.”

That place was so nice while it was only her and Grunhilda. At last, the two Loremasters sat in the water, each in a different corner of the pool. Did they not like each other? Was there some sort of professional rivalry going on? The older one sat in the water with a serene expression and properly closed eyes. Almost as though she was meditating or some thing. And Gia allowed herself to float, open wings and belly up. Exposing herself a little too much for Gilda’s tastes, but just as peacefully as the other.

Anyways, Gia was quite pretty too. Gilda could get used to staring at her.

Then there was a panicked shriek followed by a splash. Gilda almost jumped out of the bed because Grunhilda startled and almost ripped out a portion of her contour feathers. She growled and glared at the pool where Gertha kept giggling, hiding her beak with a wing and Gil shivered and hugged herself in the water.

“For feather’s sake.” Gia opened her eyes and sighed. “This is supposed to be a place for relaxation… For quieting one’s mind. Could you please behave like adults?”

“Sorry! I couldn’t resist!” Gertha giggle-snorted like an ill-behaved cub hiding behind her wing.

Then she squealed like a stupid griffon that couldn’t comprehend the concept of relaxing when Gil threw water at her. “This water is freezing!”

Despite Gilda’s reproaching thoughts, Grunhilda giggled at their antics while Gertha also got into to the water, walking down the stairs on the edge.

“It’s better to just get it over with and enter the water. It’s not as bad as it seems after the first few seconds!” Gertha still shivered a little but seemed to relax soon after and so did Gil. The later relaxed against the border of the pool and Gertha floated around the middle, laying on her back too.

Hers and Gia’s exposed, and also quite pleasant forms, distracted Gilda a bit, but she minded Grunhilda’s feathers. The small feathers on her back where they started transitioning into the fur of her feline part.

“Hum…” Grunhilda hummed quietly. “Should I take care of your wings too?”

“Yeah! Sure!” Gilda replied with the same soft, respectful voice since the room was back to its peaceful noise of water and little more. She showed Grunhilda her wing and waved with the tip. “Gotta keep the wings nice and tidy. They draw a lot of attention.”

Grunhilda nodded obediently and reached for Gilda’s wing. But rather than stretching out to reach, she stood, walked around Gilda, and laid on top of her back. Then she got to work on Gilda’s feathers before the she could complain that later moved around. Gilda decided to just relax and let Grunhilda work on her wing. She was doing a good job, after all. And… Well… It was an intimate position, but it just felt so nice.

The white griffoness carefully beaked at each feather, zipping her beak along them and leaving them covered in a little of saliva. The idea of being serviced got to Gilda’s head. She showed a comfortable smile in the dark and relaxed, letting Grunhilda take care of everything for the time.

Maybe Gia was right, after all. The thought caused her to chuckle quietly, laying her head on top of her crossed forelimbs.

The warmth of her soft body against Gilda’s in that cold room really helped her relax and appreciate the whole thing even more. And after her friend was done, they switched places. Gilda did everything she could think of to make it as nice for Grunhilda as it was for her. And it was not that difficult.

Maybe it was because of Grunhilda, but Gilda had really gotten a liking to griffon wings. So big, so powerful, and so beautiful. Grunhilda’s satisfied grunting rewarded Gilda and really made her efforts feel appreciated. Silly, maybe, but Gilda really relished her friend’s appreciation after all they’ve been through.

Feather after feather, Gilda worked on Grunhilda’s wings. They still smelled of the rose-scented oil, but the prevalent smell that hit Gilda’s nostrils was that particular smell of griffon that she had come to like, and there was also the musty smell she remembered from quite a long time ago.

Great… Grunhilda’s horniness was getting to her. And the worst part, or best, was that she didn’t even care.

Her job done, Gilda let herself relax on top of her friend’s back and her paw caressed her side, slowly. Letting her her fingers catch in the short, but soft fur. Grunhilda looked back at her with a cute smile as Gilda’s paw ran over her fur. She seemed happy, with that goofy smile of hers, and shiny mellow eyes of a griffon that is thinking about ‘stuff’.

“Hey… How about we eat something before we go to bed?” Gilda told her with a suggestive smile. It was a bit of cruel teasing, but she planned on making up to her queen anyways. She also gave Grunhilda a small wink that caused the other to giggle in that almost childish and carefree way she did.

“Okay!” Grunhilda piped, happily, if softly. Turned on her back and put a paw on Gilda’s chest with a sultry, and at the same time, calm smile. “I’ll do anything you say, Miss Gilda…”

What she said didn’t catch Gilda by surprise, she expected Grunhilda to say something like that. But it was nice to hear, so she showed a mischievous smirk and poked her friend’s beak, causing her to go cross-eyed. “I’m going to make full use of that promise.”

It was probably the third, or fourth time in that day that Grunhilda blushed like a tomato. And it only got better every time.

Next Chapter: Venom of Venus Pt. 3 Estimated time remaining: 20 Hours