Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I claim to own any characters or concepts related to The Princess and the Frog. This is a nonprofit work of fanfiction.

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This particular piece is set during the epilogue, while they're still renovating the sugar mill.

Light Touch

Tiana collapsed onto the bed, thoroughly graceless. Littered across the floor behind her she

left a trail of stockings and shoes, one here, another far over there. She stretched her arms and then her legs, and arched her back and groaned.

"I see," said Naveen. "Tell me more."

"I feel like my feet are going to fall off," she said. She cracked her toes and sighed, long and low. "Any particular reason why you're still standing?"

"I'm merely admiring my unbearably beautiful wife," he said. "And hardworking. She's very hardworking as well, I should say."

She tucked her knees up to her chest, to give him room to sit beside her. Tiana smiled at him, a worn out smile that lit up her eyes and softened the downward cast of her brow.

"That's a very good answer."

"Thank you, I thought so, too." He settled next to her.

Tiana sighed again, then reached down to grip her foot. A dark curl spilled across her brow, and her mouth, at its corners, turned down.

Naveen covered her wrist. "Allow me."

Such a startled look she gave him. Her eyebrow arched. "Allow you what?"

"Your feet," he said, as if to say: is it not obvious? He smiled very bright, very charming. "I'll take care of them for you. It is my duty as your husband to help you in any way," he said, pious.

Her other eyebrow arched; what a pair.

"Have you ever in your life massaged anyone's feet?"

"When you say it like that," he said, "no. But how hard can it be? You just do that thing with your thumbs and--" He gestured.

"That's one way, I suppose." She raised her eyes to the newly plastered ceiling, but her foot she dropped onto his thigh. "All right," she said, "since you're offering. Work your magic."

Naveen rolled up his sleeves; he flourished his fingers.

"Prepare yourself," he said, "for pleasure."

Tiana wiggled her toes at him. "Consider me prepared," she said. She tipped her head, black hair a tangle at her throat. "That is, whenever you feel like getting to it."

"So impatient," he muttered.

He took her foot up in his hands and considered it: the smallness of it, the delicate bones, the tension manifest in the arch. Experimentally, he ran his thumb very lightly up the arch. Her foot jerked in his hand; her leg quivered and so did her shoulders: Tiana huffed a laugh out through her nose.

He did it again and Tiana said, "Stop that, I'm--" She smothered her giggle in her hands. Over her fingers, she fixed him with a glare with which no doubt she intended to intimidate.

"Well!" said Naveen. "That is very interesting. Tell me, have you always been ticklish here?"

He stroked the fragile arch of her foot, tracing the curve with his thumb. Her toes curled; her ankle flexed, bowing. She covered her face, but alas, how small her effort; it spilled out between her fingers, that low, sweet laugh. He ran his hand up her leg, cupping her calf where it was plumpest in his palm.

The indented trail which ran low on her toes: he followed that with his finger, a light touch that had her laughing still and shaking beneath him, her eyes now lidding.

Naveen clicked his tongue. "And here, as well."

She crooked her toes and drew her leg back, but oh, he was too quick for her. He followed, sliding his hand up to spread out upon her thigh, broad and yes, so lovely.

Tiana turned her face to her shoulder. She smiled sidelong at him, eyes half-lidded and lashes a curtain falling over her dark, warm eyes. Much too artless to be coy. Naveen's heart pinched.

"So many things you've kept secret from me," he said lightly.

"It didn't really seem all that important," she said. "What with the hopping for our lives and the shadow man, and the weddings and all."

"Ha!" said Naveen. "No, it's just so funny how you think this when you're so very wrong. This is of the utmost importance."

Tiana swung her knee; she nudged his hip, then rested there.

"I didn't realize you felt so strongly about a little tickling."

"If we're to make this marriage work, my princess," he said to her, "there must be no secrets between us. We must be honest with each other. Forthcoming, even."

"Now is that so?" she said.

Tiana rose up beneath him. She set her hands on his shoulders and pushed, not hard at all, and obligingly, he went over onto his back. Tiana threw a leg over him; she straddled his chest, her work skirt rucked high on her thighs.

"Let's see how you like it," she said.

She slipped her fingers down his sides, etching out where his ribs ought to be through his shirt: a fluttering touch, now here, now gone. His chest tightened. Naveen took in a breath, then let it out.

"Do you enjoy disappointment? You must." He cupped her hips and drew her nearer still. "I think you'll find I'm quite insensitive."

She leaned over him, her hands warm now on his shoulders. "I think you're more sensitive than you know."

"Oh," he said, as she settled upon him, "how wrong you are. You are so wrong."

"We'll just see about that," said Tiana.

This story was originally posted at livejournal on 12/15/2009.