FSE

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A strip of light shone through a drawn curtain, illuminating a room made of stone and wood. It passed over a bed occupied by two individuals, both lost in a dream.

These individuals were not human. Rather, they were rats. To be specific, they were Burmecians, the mouse-like inhabitants of the kingdom of Burmecia, located on the mist continent.

The sunlight moved further as the minutes passed. It eventually fell onto the closed eyes of the male in the bed, a knight by the name of Sir Fratley. He stirred in protest, but his unconscious mind could not hold off for long. He found himself returning to the waking world of Gaia in a less-than-pleasant manner.

And here, I was hoping I could sleep in for once, Sir Fratley mused.

Try as he might, Fratley could not return to the nice dream he was having, nor could he recall what exactly made it so nice. Well, he supposed that he didn't have to deal with any aches or sores from the long day of work yesterday. Just because he was an experienced knight doesn't mean he didn't feel it everytime he got out of bed. He felt pain and fatigue just like anyone else.

He also felt a little hunger at the moment. Enough to make him want to get out of bed and do something about it.

As carefully as he could so as not to disturb his partner, Fratley slid out of the covers and onto the tile. He stretched his body, clad only in sleepwear, to help it wake for the day, and made his way to the door.

As he walked, a murmur drew his attention to the other occupant in the bed. Fratley glanced over to her and felt a little warmer at the sight.

There lay Freya Crescent, knight of Burmecia and savior of all Gaia, sleeping peacefully in the bed. She laid on her side in a half fetal position, her silver hair splayed every which way.

The sight of her stirred a warming feeling in Fratley's chest. How could a guy like him get together with a girl like her? It was like something out of one of those cheap romance books he had heard about. That he had fallen for her before he lost his memories, only to fall for her again even though he still knew nothing about her was nothing short of a miracle. It was an even greater miracle that she had accepted him once more, knowing that he may never truly become the Fratley she once knew.

The warmth in his heart continued to grow while he looked over her, going over every detail. She had turned a little in her sleep, making the covers uneven on her side. Despite this, much of her body remained covered in her nightgown and blankets to maintain the warmth.

All except for two very noticeable places.

Poking out of the covers at the base of the bed was a pair of off-white feet, exposed up to the ankle to the cool early morning air. They laid together on their sides, the left foot on top and leaning over the right. The sharp claws that took the place of human toes were slightly curled not unlike an infant in a nap. Pink pads on the balls contrasted with the white all around them.

Bare feet were a common sight in Burmecia. Due to the claws at the front, shoes were always a foreign novelty, reserved for other species and the occasional native oddball. At most, the Burmecians would wear thick leggings that stopped just short of the claws to keep their feet warm and protected. Otherwise, many of Burmecia's denizens simply went without on their daily business.

So why couldn't Fratley look away from such a normal sight in his life?

As mundane as it was, he could feel something... enticing about the feet before him. Maybe it was the delicate way that they laid. Maybe it was the softness of the fur on them contrasting with the sharp claws and rough pads. Maybe it was just the miracle of them in general, how the entire weight and skill and life of a burmecian could be made possible by the support they provided. After all, it would only take a couple nicks here to render one unable to move, and if one couldn't move, one couldn't fight or walk or truly live the way they do.

The more Fratley looked on, the more he remembered the events of yesterday. It had been a routine day since the reconstruction effort began. Fratley and Freya would alternate their day between patrolling the town and helping the villagers rebuild their homes. The days were long and hardly allowed for breaks, but were otherwise pleasant and uneventful. Burmecia had always been a relatively quiet city, but crime had been surprisingly minimal during the reconstruction.

Until yesterday, that was. A younger Burmecian with enough money but no sense had attempted to steal an entire loaf of bread in the marketplace. Had Freya or Fratley not been present when he tried, he might have gotten away with it. The kid turned out to be a crafty one, and knew which alleys and holes to run through to keep the guards away. He had smarts, but not enough stamina or speed to outrun the duo forever. Soon after, he was caught, received a good scolding, and ended up paying the poor baker as he should have done in the first place.

Unfortunately for Freya, the chase had taken them through parts of town where rubble and splintered wood littered the ground. This would not have been a problem on other days. However, she had woken a little late for her duties and put on thinner, less durable leggings than she would have preferred.

Fratley winced at the thought of her running over those things while he continued gazing. She had made sure to check her feet the first chance she got. Fratley could not see any cuts or scrapes on her undersides, or anything else to indicate she was in pain. They looked just as clean and properly cared for as they had always been.

But Fratley knew she was. Freya was good at hiding any pain she felt from others, but every once in a while, Fratley saw her inhale sharply or tense up if she happened to take a step the wrong way. Even after they had gone home for the night, Freya had a subtle change in the way she walked around the house.

If only there was something I could do for her, thought Fratley. Freya has done so much for me, been through so much for me. I must help her out somehow. He took another glance at the aching undersides and lifted a hand. Maybe if I were to...

Fratley stopped his thoughts at once. He shook his head in an attempt to clear out the naughty, horrible, ideas that were forming. Unfortunately, while he was more than ready to move along and maybe surprise her by getting breakfast ready instead, he found himself unable to move away. It was as if the very idea had caused him to become rooted to the spot and keep him there until he acted on it.

Surely I must do something to help her... but there must be countless ways to better go about this... and yet, that would be quite the awkward conversation to bring up with her. Would it really be that bad if I were to... why am I even debating this?

Indeed, for while Fratley paid attention to the debate in his mind, his subconscious had already decided what to do. Before he realized it, he had leaned closer to the edge of the bed and raised a hand with a sole finger outstretched.

The more he realized just how close he was to making contact, the more Fratley realized how tantalizing it all was. He had to admit, for being such a common sight, the way Freya's feet looked so strong yet well maintained was quite alluring. Was he lying to himself of the real reason he wanted to do this? Was he in truth being selfish and doing this all for his own twisted desires?

Fratley shook his head at the thought. What I do now is not just for me. It's for her.

Fratley thought no more of this. He simply glanced at the foot and leaned in further.

May the gods forgive me for what I am about to do...

It started with a poke, a quick tap on the side, hard enough to rouse her if she were already awake, but light enough to keep her asleep if she wasn't. His finger was on and off her faster than his mind could process, but he could feel it still in his nerves. At least, he hoped that's how it was.

Fratley quickly glanced up to the top of the bed, half-expecting Freya to be awake and unpleasantly surprised. To his own surprise, he saw nothing different. If Freya had noticed his touching her, her body had not betrayed her alarm.

Still, he could not be too careful. From what he could remember of his earlier days, rushing in blindly even if things looked safe could get oneself in big trouble. Fratley remained still for what felt like hours, yet were only a couple minutes. Only when he was sure that Freya's body had forgotten the touch did he try again.

He reached out with his finger and gently prodded the foot once more, this time with a little more force than before. Yet again, Freya did not stir at all. Her tail remained limp, and her breathing stayed slow and gentle.

Such it stayed and he continued to test the waters. He poked a few more times to truly test how deep Freya's slumber was, each touch lasting a little longer and a little further away. The couple minutes between each touch dwindled into one minute, then into half a minute, then even less. He had even dared to try the underside of her feet once or twice.

No matter where Fratley poked, Freya did not stir. The most her body did through his touches was a small tail flick and a soft noise in her throat, something she would normally do in her sleep. Only when he had dared to move on from a simple poke to a drag from the heel to the claw did Fratley become completely convinced that she was still fast asleep.

He could do all this, but as he reached over to begin a more massage-like motion, Fratley stopped. He withdrew his hand and looked down at it, then glanced back up at Freya.

What am I doing? Fratley thought. She looks so at ease now. If I were to keep going, surely I would rouse her and ruin whatever pleasant dream she was having. And what if she doesn't want to be touched there? It may be a sensitive issue for her. She may never look at me the same way again.

Despite his attempt to put a stop to himself, there was another part of Fratley that thought otherwise. Freya may be dreaming peacefully now, but that dream would have to come to an end sooner or later. She would return to the conscious world and feel every ache and pain she had earned from the previous day of work, and though she would brush it off amongst others, Fratley would know that she would suffer in private.

His sense of duty overpowered his caution. He was a knight of Burmecia through and through, and it was his calling to help others in need, even if it was another knight. Even if it was a personal friend.

Especially if it was his lover.

Fratley looked down at his hands, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Opening his eyes, he reached and began his massage.

He carefully placed his index finger and thumb on opposite sides of Freya's top foot, letting his digits linger for the first time. He looked to Freya's face to see any change, but yet again there was none. He left his fingers on that spot for another minute to make sure he was safe before he went to work.

His fingers started moving up and down in a localized spot. The thumb went back and forth on the pad while the index finger rubbed the gap between the bones of her biggest toes. He rubbed slowly and lightly, just enough that she would hopefully feel it but not enough to actually wake her.

As he expected, the pad was rough on his thumb, a feeling similar to that of sandpaper, but much less hard on the fingers. Meanwhile, the hair on the top was softer compared to that, but fine and thin compared to the rest of her fur.

While he rubbed, Fratley kept a careful eye on Freya. He expected her to leap awake and yell at him or deliver a swift kick to the gut at any moment, but she still remained asleep. All that had changed was her tail was flicking a little more than usual.

Relieved by this, Fratley decided to continue his massage elsewhere. He carefully moved his hand toward the heel, his thumb working the arches while his fingers felt more bone. Past the pad, the arch had a gentle curve to it had the shortest hair he had felt so far. The heel was even shorter than that, as it could almost develop pads itself. How they never did, Fratley couldn't say, but maybe they were just meant to be that way.

Fratley had touched Freya before. It was never anything sexual - at least, as far as he could recollect - but Freya did allow herself to lower her guard and indulge in a held hand or an arm around the shoulder. She was especially fond of scratches behind her ears when they were alone, though Fratley probably wouldn't live to see the end of the day if he confided that to anyone else.

But despite him having touched her before, her feet carried a feeling unique from the rest of her. Her hands had been trained and refined to be as strong as they could, and were full of power. The backs of her ears had not undergone any such refinement; they maintained the delicateness of a proper royal burmecian lady.

Her feet, however, was all of these things at once. He could feel the pure strength of her condensed to these two points, but he could also feel her femininity. They were tough, but they also had a certain curvature to them that was hard to find in a male grown burmecian. In a way, these feet were a perfect representation of Freya herself.

"Hmmhmhm...."

Fratley stopped cold in his tracks, his mind running wild with panic. That noise was more audible than any other she had made this morning. Her foot had moved as well, curling the claws for just a moment. He dared not to look at first, like a child refusing to look at their parents when getting a good scolding.

But Fratley was not a kid. No, he was a grown adult, and he had to face his punishment like a proper knight. He slowly gazed up back to Freya...

Only to find she was still asleep.

"Hmmhmhmhmmm..." She muttered in her sleep again. Her foot twitched a second time, this time stronger than before. It pulled Fratley's attention back down, where he noticed he was still holding onto it. He let go of the foot at once, allowing it to move.

The rest of Freya moved along with her foot. She turned onto her back, her face pointed towards the ceiling. Her left leg moved off her right, allowing her foot to stick straight up, while her right foot stayed mostly horizontal.

After settling in this position, Freya returned to her normal sleep pattern; little movement except for her chest rising and falling with each breath and a small tail-flick.

Fratley found himself at a mental crossroads. Freya still looked as docile as ever, and the new position of her foot would give him a much easier time to work with it. Yet the risk of her being woken too early was still very real; she may even be waking up now, and all it would take is a single touch to make things very awkward. But Fratley had only just gotten started on his massage, too; he had yet to even touch the other foot, and it was not a knightly thing to just leave a job half-finished.

Fratley debated amongst himself for a while before his decision was made for him. A grumble erupted from his stomach, louder than the first time. Fratley sighed and lowered his head in acceptance. It was his turn today to prepare their meals, and as much as Freya would appreciate less achy feet, she would likely prefer them over an empty stomach.

And so, Fratley carefully walked away in disappointment tinged with a small level of comfort. He had to abandon his mission, but at least he had accomplished a little relief, not to mention he did so without being caught.

....

It had been at least a minute after hearing him walk off that Freya dared to open her eyes. She lay motionless for another minute, listening to him preparing breakfast in the kitchen. It was his turn, after all.

Her face turned red while she lay in bed ruminating over the sensations she had experienced. Fratley had gone, but she could still feel the remnants of his touches.

Endless questions flooded her mind. What in all of Gaia possessed him to do what he did? He had never acted out like this before. Had he noticed her pain? Was she that easy to read, or was he simply that good at reading others? How long had he been doing that to her?

Most important of all, how was he so good at massaging her?

She had no idea how long he had been rubbing her feet. All she could recall was a pleasant feeling in her dreams, one that made her feel like she could have melted in pleasure and been content with it. Even when she had regained consciousness, it still took a couple minutes for her to realize that the good feelings were real, and could have only come from one source.

She wanted answers, and plenty of them, for more questions continued to flow. Just why did he stop when he was already doing so much and right when things were getting good? Had he misinterpreted her shift to give him easier access to her whole foot?

But as the more sensible part of her brain took hold, more fearful questions arose. Had he been taking advantage of her? Should she feel outraged at him for doing something so personal without her consent? Should she even confront him on this, or simply say nothing and hope he does it again the next morning?

Freya groaned and shook her head. It was far too early for such matters. She would ruminate on them after breakfast and a good bath. For now, she would focus on enjoying the comfort of the bed's warm embrace and the pleasant sensations on her feet that her Fratley gave her. Who knows, she may need another massage by the end of today...