Y/n Pov

Our group of adventurers now laid in the carriage exhausted with the teacher proudly humming and snow slowly falling. Elsie and I were holding hands smiling happily with Rose laid between us. In the corner of my eye I noticed she was sleeping as her head rested on my shoulder. Rudeus smiled gently towards me. "You know, you three look like a family." He motioned to us. I looked over to Elsie who was tired of all the fights. "I guess you could say we are." I said and Elsie looked up to me slowly, her eyes heavy from exhaustion. A light hum was all she said.

She leaned over, laying with her head on my shoulder closing her eyes. The entire party was done and dozing in the carriage. I too couldn't keep my eyes up longer.

The journey back to Ranoa after the Dungeon expedition was filled with a mix of exhaustion and triumph. The group, comprised of Rudeus, Cliff, Zanoba, Elsie, Heine, Elinalise, Juliet, Linia, Pursena, and our teacher Aerith, trudged wearily through the familiar terrain. The echoes of camaraderie, forged in the crucible of the dungeon, resonated in our mind.

As we approached the outskirts of Ranoa's bustling town, the aroma of a nearby tavern beckoned. The medieval adventure had left its mark on us, and a collective decision was silently reached - a detour for some well-deserved revelry. "Come on guys, I have a tradition, every time I come back from a dangerous dungeon we get hammered." The Elven teacher spoke and set the carriage at the side of the building.

The tavern's wooden door creaked open as we entered, greeted by the lively hum of conversation and clinking tankards. The medieval atmosphere within embraced us, providing a respite from the trials we had faced.

A round table near the corner became our sanctuary. Tankards of mead were raised in unison, the frothy liquid a balm to our worn souls. Laughter erupted, and stories of the dungeon's challenges mingled with the ambient medieval tavern sounds.

Rudeus, with a hearty laugh, recounted a close encounter with a particularly cunning monster. Zanoba, ever the adventurer, embellished his own tales, and Cliff, in his stoic manner, shared moments of quiet triumph.

Elsie, with her eyes shining, wove enchanting stories of magical prowess, captivating the group with the medieval mysteries she had unraveled as she was the only one capable of reading the ancient runes. Heine, Juliet, Elinalise, Linia, and Pursena contributed their own perspectives, the tapestry of experiences creating a rich tableau.

Aerith, our guide and mentor, observed the festivities with a knowing smile. Her eyes held a mix of pride and camaraderie, acknowledging the growth and unity that had blossomed within our diverse group. She took down a tankard in one go, shocking us all.

The tavern's medieval ambiance became a backdrop to the symphony of our shared laughter and clinking tankards. As the night wore on, the burdens of the dungeon lifted, and the bonds that had been forged in adversity solidified over ale-soaked tales.

The door creaked open once more as a cool breeze swept through the tavern, carrying the scent of the medieval night. The night was young, and the echoes of camaraderie lingered in the air. Our expedition's end remained open, awaiting the tales and adventures that would unfold beyond the medieval tapestry of the dungeon.

The tavern echoed with the lively laughter and clinking tankards as the night wore on. The medieval atmosphere, infused with merriment, seemed to swirl around Aerith and me. The tankards of ale had worked their magic, and a pleasant haze settled over our senses. Cliff and Elinalise had gone upstairs much to our confusion.

Aerith, our wise and composed teacher, seemed to shed the formal mantle that defined her in the academy. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and a playful grin adorned her lips. It was a side of her I hadn't seen before, and the medieval tapestry of the night seemed to be weaving unexpected threads.

With a gentle tug on my sleeve, Aerith leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper amidst the tavern's symphony. "Come with me, Y/n. There's something I'd like to share in a more... private setting." Her voice sent shivers down my spine.

The anusual allure of the request wasn't lost on me, and I found myself drawn to the mystery of what awaited behind the door she gestured toward. The ale had loosened inhibitions, and a sense of exhilaration infused the medieval air.

As we entered the dimly lit room, the wooden door closing behind us, a newfound intimacy enveloped the space. Aerith with a gentle flick of her hand cast an incantation causing the candles to glow. The flickering fire light cast dancing shadows, and the medieval tapestries adorning the walls seemed to silently witness the unfolding scene.

Aerith turned to face me, her playful grin now laced with a hint of something more. Her left hand pressing against the door behind, caging me in like prey. The eventfull evening had taken an unexpected turn, and the air was charged with anticipation. Our eyes met, and in that moment, the boundaries between teacher and student blurred in the social shadows.

The ale-fueled courage had emboldened Aerith, and with a gentle touch, she traced a finger along my jawline. "Y/n," she murmured, the sultry hush adding an air of secrecy, "the dungeon forged bonds, and tonight... tonight is for us." Her eyes were going between mine and my lips

The connection between us deepened, guided by the shared experiences of the labyrinth and the medieval allure of the night. The weight of responsibilities momentarily lifted, and the tapestry of the evening unfolded in unpredictable ways.

Aerith pulled away from me, her cheeks now a pink hue on them and a smirk on her lips that had just been on mine a a mere second ago. "I've chosen you to be my partner for this moment." Turning me around she threw me on the bed and expertly undressed herself down to her lace underwear.

She stood there for a moment looking down at me. My heart, beating from fear and excitement. In the dim candle light I could see her alluring curves, thick thighs and shapely breasts. She crawled right on top over me, a mere inch separating my lower body from hers. "Its nothing personal, but I'm a cursed nymphomaniac, I'd die without feeling a man." a warm touch on my cheek burned my mind blank, her voice, soft and sexy.

Wait hold on? She's what. "Aerith, I. . . She shushed me gently. "Don't worry, if you don't want this just tell me now and I will let you go." I looked right to her as she motioned to the door.

My mind was left reeling on the thought, I knew what was going to come and my breath stoped for a moment as I let my thoughts go through me.

No one in their right mind would say no at such an opportunity. But then again my mind only thinks of her and she'd deserve it more then Aerith.

"I'm staying." With that her lips tugged into a smirk. "It wont hurt I promise, if that's what you fear." Our hands intertwined.

As candlelight flickered, the medieval night held its secrets, and the door remained closed to the revelries outside. In that private haven, Aerith and I navigated the uncharted territories of shared experiences, a culmination of the bonds woven in the crucible of the dungeon, of something I had not experienced before.

. . .

The room, once shrouded in the mystery of whispered exchanges, bore the remnants of an intimate connection between Aerith and I. My gaze was fixed on the wooden ceiling. "Is this really how it feels?" My voice was a bare whisper as I searched for an answer. A soft giggle escaped Aerith as she gazed at me her eyes half open. "You did better then I thought." She sat up with the blanket covering her.

For a moment there was a comfortable silence between us. Aerith seemed to be in her mind looking ahead. "Tell me." She trailed with her hand on my leg. "I was your first, wasn't I?" She turned to face me, her eyes calm and collected. "How did you know?" I asked confused and ashamed at the same time. "The way you hesitated."

Her eyes gave off a light sparkle. "Your mind was also elsewhere, is it that girl with the red hair, Elsie was it?" She grinned amused as my face flushed deeply red again. I nodded silently. She was my one and only.

We dressed in silence and she pat my back. "I've done this more times than I can remember." As the door creaked open, revealing the lively ambiance of the tavern, the medieval night seemed to exhale a secret into the air.

Aerith and I emerged, our gazes meeting momentarily before we rejoined the table where the others were immersed in laughter and tales. The tavern's symphony continued, oblivious to the clandestine moments shared in the private room.

The lively atmosphere, now infused with a shared secret, hung between us. As we took our seats, the camaraderie of the group welcomed us back into the fold. Laughter erupted anew, and the tankards of ale were raised in a toast to the night's adventures.

Elsie, with a mischievous glint in her eye, leaned over and whispered, "Well, well, what happened in that room, Y/n?" Her playful tone echoed the local jests that often accompanied the camaraderie of a night spent in a tavern. "We just wrote a report to the academy."

Aerith, her composed demeanor back in place, shared a knowing smile with me. The tapestry of the medieval night was woven with layers of shared experiences, and the private connection lingered in the unspoken glances between us.

As the night unfolded with tales and laughter, the medieval charm of the tavern embraced us once more. The door to the private room unable to share its tales, now empty, held the echoes of a secret shared in the intimate hours.

The group reveled in the camaraderie that had deepened during the night's revelries. The ale-soaked memories blended with the medieval ambiance, creating a mosaic of shared experiences that would linger in the tapestry of our collective journey. It was than that Aerith got another round for all of us. "Don't worry, you don't have any classes tomorrow." With that reasuring smile our tankards met again, slowly downing the mead.

As the tankards were raised again for the uptenth time, a toast to the night, the medieval echoes seemed to carry a whisper of the secrets and connections forged in the crucible of the labyrinth's mysteries. Some of us barely being able to stand like Zanoba and Juliet. Others were just starting to feel it.

The air was thick with the aroma of mead and the warmth of camaraderie. Elsie, with her eyes shining bright and cheeks flushed from the revelry, approached me with a seductive smirk. Her chest touching the side of my arm.

"Y/n," she giggled, her laughter harmonizing with the medieval melodies that filled the air. "Come with me. There's something I'd like to talk with you."

The ale had woven its magic, casting aside inhibitions and fueling the playful energy of the night. Elsie's invitation carried an air of mystery, and I found myself captivated by the allure of what awaited behind the door she gestured toward.

With a playful sway in her step, Elsie led the way into a dimly lit room, the wooden door closing behind us. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the medieval tapestries that adorned the walls, creating an atmosphere charged with anticipation.

Elsie turned to face me, her gaze filled with a mix of mischief and desire. The medieval hush of the room amplified the fluttering heartbeat of the moment. As she closed the distance between us, the playful energy of the night melded with the deeper currents of connection.

"Y/n," Elsie whispered, her breath brushing against my ear, "the night is full of mysteries, and I want to explore them with you." My heart pounded, this wasn't the Elsie I knew and loved but if she wanted. . .

The medieval allure of the moment unfolded as Elsie's fingers traced a delicate pattern along my arm. The shared laughter and revelry outside seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the hushed whispers of the private room. "I want to repay you, for all you did today." Her words were slurred. "But I'm not ready for . . . you know, that." She kept silent, a deep blush forming on her face.

"Okay Pervert." Was the only thing I thought.

In the embrace of the candlelit shadows, Elsie and I navigated the uncharted territories of shared desires. She moved over to the bed undressing to her underwear. Her embarrassed blush melted my heart. "You can . . . touch me . . . a bit." Her words were hesitant.

The rustic echoes of the night wrapped around us, creating an intimate space where time seemed to stand still.

She laid down on the bed with me on top. "If that's how it's going to be then so be it." I replied and undressed quickly, discarding my clothes in the room. I touched the side of her waist and went close to her neck giving it a gentle kiss. Her embarrassed whimpers excited me. I went lower down to the hem of her neglige with my hand.

"N-No." She squeaked out. I jumped back and she got on her feet. "I said just a little." she yelled and slapped me on my face with full force. In my drunken state I could barely hold on my feet. That's when she jumped up spinkicking me to the ground. A powerfull kick hit me on my hip followed by a barrage of them. "Not again." I groaned as felt her hit my groin.

Elsie stepped back, for a moment panicking. "I'm sorry Y/n lets just forget this and go down to rejoin the others." She stated and I tried to heal my injuries. Yeah, that may be a good idea." I replied and searched for my clothes.

Elsie and I emerged from the private room, returning to the lively rustic tavern atmosphere. Laughter and joy surrounded us as we rejoined the table where the others were engrossed in their own revelries. The group now instead of drunk jokes was speaking philosophical questions.

The shared secret of our time in the private room lingered in the air, adding a subtle layer to the tapestry of the night. Elsie's eyes held a playful spark, and my own gaze reflected the unspoken connection forged in the intimate hours.

As we took our seats, the medieval symphony of the tavern continued. Tankards were raised in a collective toast, the revelers unaware of the clandestine moments shared behind closed doors.

However, as the night progressed, an unexpected turn of events unfolded. Elsie, perhaps still feeling the effects of the ale-soaked revelry, misjudged the distance between her seat and mine. With an accidental kick, she collided with a particularly sensitive area. The men of the tavern all in unison stoped moving as if their sixt sense had activated.

A collective gasp rippled through the group, followed by a brief silence that seemed to freeze the medieval ambiance. I winced, my attempt to stifle a groan evident in the sudden tension.

"Elsie, are you trying out a new move or something?" Rudeus quipped, breaking the momentary stillness with a burst of laughter.

Elsie, realizing the mishap, blushed furiously and stammered an apology. The tavern erupted into a mix of laughter, sympathy, and playful jests about the perils of medieval revelry.

"I guess my aim needs some calibration tonight," Elsie admitted with a sheepish grin, her embarrassment adding a touch of humor to the situation.

Aerith drinking from her tankard eyed me and Elsie from the side. "You've got a long way with her Y/n." She stated and I turned over to her almost falling down. "How are you sober?" I asked and she laughed. "I'm an Elf who's several centuries old and heavy drinker." She handed me another tankard again. "Drink up it helps."

My liver is going to suicide itself after this night. Thank god my slayer magic helps with degrading alcohol faster. But Elsie? I pitty her already.

As the medieval banter continued, the tension dissolved into shared laughter. Elsie and I exchanged a glance, acknowledging the comical mishap while the night carried on in a lively dance of camaraderie.

The tankards were raised once again, this time in a toast to the unpredictability of the medieval night. The mishap became a shared story, a part of the memories woven into the tapestry of our collective journey, ensuring that this night in the medieval tavern would be remembered with laughter and good-natured jests.