“Well, I do enjoy getting to pull it out again after so long. It’s like comfort food. Just tasting it again feels like home.” He giggles. “Granted, the effect is rather enhanced by getting to fight with the swords of peace for a change. Maybe the afterglow is addling me.”

"'Fight with the swords of peace'," he repeats with some amusement.

“… that’s not an idiom in Eorzean, is it? Not Hingan, either?”

"Nnnope," he says, popping the 'p'*. "It's very endearing, though."

* While it is unclear whether Eorzean has a 'p' in their equivalent of the word "nope", the translation convention used in this medium is such that the reader should assume that Red Fir is the kind of person who would have popped their 'p' in that "nope", and this will be reflected in other equivalent situations that would not be properly translated.

"But I could have sworn I've heard at least one Lominsan call it his sword, though. And the Ul'dahn gladiators constantly joke about their enemies being poorly equipped." He grumbles gently at the use of the word "endearing" and jams him forehead into Red Fir's shoulder, but doesn't comment directly on it.

"Calling it a sword is pretty universal. At least it's present in every language I speak. Of peace is new, though. Other languages treat it as war, and the receptive partner as the defeated party." He looks down between his legs then back up with a smirk. "Can't say I'm feeling very defeated right now."

Qana'to wrinkles his nose and chuckles. "See, this is why we split from the Seekers," he says, only half-joking. "There are a lot of sagas that describe sex after a fight, but its not like—actually," he pauses. "It's sort of the opposite in Ruhn Epocan's saga. She got a daughter by J'benha Tia after defeating him because he was the best male warrior she'd encountered."

"Maybe we should fight next time and the winner gets to decide who does what."

Qana'to regards him in silence for a moment. "So much for that intimidating Warrior-of-Light persona," he mutters with a smile. "Maybe we should. Get our names added to the wrestlers' epics."

"It's very hard to continue to believe some mythical invincible persona when I saw you begging for me to come for you within the last hour."

"Invincible warrior powers don't extend to sex, right? Just beating people up or whatever."

On the table, a linkshell warbles it's irritating ping, making the wooden surface buzz unpleasantly. Qana'to looks over at it dubiously. "We are already on our way out to the hot spring to rinse off, right? I'm not in the room to get that."

"We totally are. We didn't hear it ring, we were already out of them room when it did."

Hyup to his feet, then.

He rolls out after the Viera and stretches momentarily before jogging out of the room, as though fearful the device could call their bluff if they lingered. In the hall another patron regards them strangely as they pass—for their nudity or the novelty of non-Hingan guests, it was impossible to guess, but it made Qana’to smirk and glance back at Red Fir nonetheless as they made it out to the spring. “Should we go downwards, toward the bottom area this time? Better views but more crowds. I personally tend to stay near the top for the peace and ease of conversing.”

"I'll follow your lead, I don't have a particular preference."

Qana’to strides to his where Red had found him earlier and settles into the steaming waters, closing his eyes and huffing gently. “I should really get a sponge,” he says idly to himself as he scoops water over his chest. “But then, I fully intend to work up another sweat in a bit here, so maybe I’ll wait on that.”

"Do you now?" he asks with a raised eyebrow as he lowers himself into the waters.

“You didn’t think I was finished with you yet, did you? I’ve been stuck alone in a tent for months. The Prince of Doma was handsome enough in his own way but I don’t know if he’s had a boner in the last year, frankly. No energy there—which I guess is understandable with the empire and all. But I’ve wasted enough love on the Steppe grasses for a lifetime.”

"What, did you not have fun with any of the au ra who insist on walking around the Steppe in the buff?"

Qana’to’s ears lower and he glances at Red Fir, chastened by having his bluff called. “Well, one, actually, now that you mention it,” he says. “After everything calmed down there and we’d established the alliance. It took them a bit to muster, after all.” He giggles with nostalgia. “Yeah, I had been complaining about—” He starts to describe it in more detail, but cuts himself off with a shrug and a hesitant smile. “Well, the point is that I guess you got me. But in my defense it was a really long dry spell before and after.”

"No, no, now I want to know, what had you been complaining about?"

He laughs, “Clothes, of course!”

“We were going to hunt together—because that’s what the Xaela do to pass time—and I was sweating in my travel gear. That led to a discussion of nudism and ended with us both stripping.”

"Genuinely surprised they were wearing anything at all, last time I visited they mostly didn't, at least the clans I ran into. Admittedly that was a few decades ago."

“It was fairly little, since it was summer. Definitely a lot of exposed breasts. Bottoms were less common—although plenty of guys were careful to show themselves off whenever our group was around. They seemed to relish how it would offend or intimidate the Domans.” He chuckled. “Whenever we split up, I’d offer to handle those guys and then strip as soon as I was by myself. Hien wondered why I didn’t struggle to get them to take me seriously like he did.”

"So the secret to the good graces of Steppe au ra is showing them your cock? I thought it was prowess in battle."

“It definitely is. I think I was just demonstrating that I wasn’t as easily pushed off-balance as the Domans by a little skin. Felt good, though, showing off; I can’t lie.”