Notes: 1) If you see this story anywhere but Literotica it isn't supposed to be there. 2) Because of shorter chapters, this is being posted in chunks.
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*One*
"That's too broad." Syreilla shook her head at the plans being laid out in front of her.
"The gentle sun warms the king and the wretch just the same, and the punishing sun withers the vine and the weed with the same indifference." Atos leaned back on his golden seat with a broad gesture and Isca shrugged.
Syr scowled at both of them. "Rielle is the one who needs to be punished. You may not care how many you hurt when you act, Grandfather, but I do."
"I thought you didn't like elves," Isca smirked at her and Syreilla wanted to throttle the woman.
"As a rule, I don't. But there are two I'm fond of and I'm not stupid. If you go to war with all of the elves, half-elves are going to be lumped in with them. I have siblings who'll get hurt by this."
Atos leaned forward again. "I will protect them."
"What you'll do, Grandfather, is let me look at things and come up with a plan. I'm good at this."
"You're young, Syreilla." Isca shook her head, "You're strong, but too soft-hearted if you won't spread the pain a little."
"I'm the goddess of righteous vengeance, Isca, and the protector of gentle souls. I can dole out the pain and destruction but I'm not going to let innocents suffer if I can help it. Think before you work."
"The builders always said, measure twice, cut once, but it's bows and axes, my girl." Isca grinned, "In my experience when you see where the blow should land you hit your mark hard. If you do it right you don't need a second strike."
"If you're hitting the elves, all of the elves, you aren't hitting the right mark. You need to take some time and think-"
"I've been toying with ways to crush them since before you were born, girl."
"And you spent how long on that temple of yours? I looked, I thought, and I took your temple out at the knees. Call me 'girl' again, Isca, I fucking dare you."
Atos laughed quietly. "We will do some thinking, as should you, Syreilla. Consider the benefit of our experience and greater power." He folded his hands and smiled at Isca before glancing back at her, "Visit the chamber I've made for you before you return to my brother." A doorway opened next to him.
The memory of the last chamber he'd sent her into was at the forefront of her mind and she could see clearly that he and Isca were being devious. There was something murky hanging around them like dirty water.
"I have some other plans for the day. I need to visit Orsas. I'll come back later, Grandfather."
"I want you to see it." Atos kept the door open.
"Grandfather..." She took a breath, "You do remember about my eye?"
"Yes." He frowned.
"You and Isca are both murky looking, you're being devious."
Isca blinked and sat back in surprise.
"I remember the last chamber you dropped me into when you weren't entirely happy with me and I would prefer not to be dropped into another when I have plans for the day."
Her grandfather gave her a rueful smile, "I didn't build it to hold you, sweet child."
"I'll come back when you're in a better, less devious mood, and see it. You can show it to me." She smiled at him and he laughed, closing the door.
Syr gave them a curt nod and stepped out of the room, opening a door to the foot of the mountain first to collect her waiting raven since Atos hadn't allowed him to come inside with her for the discussion.
"Come on then, my friend."
The bird looked at her curiously from its perch and she could see the question in his eyes as if he'd asked it.
"No, it didn't go well. I have a bad feeling about all of it. I want to talk to Vezar about it but we need to go see Orsas, he's expecting us."
Opening another door, she let the bird fly through first. He was doing a lap around the immense forges as she stepped in.
"Are you bringing my bird back to me, Syreilla?" Orsas grinned as he made his way toward her.
"Never, I love that bird."
"Have you given him a name?"
"I was going to ask if he had one. I don't want to call him something he doesn't like."
The dwarf laughed and shook his head, "Name him, Rook. Give him a good dwarvish name."
Syreilla held out her hand and the bird came to perch on it. "A good dwarvish name? Baduil."
"A whole name, he's not a babe." Orsas folded his arms grinning.
"Baduil Rookfriend."
"Badwill Rookfriend." He shook his head.
"Ba-du-il. Not Badwill. After Batran and Kaduil." She narrowed her eyes as she gave him an annoyed frown.
"It's a good name, and I doubt anyone will be brave enough to tease him when they see your face."
"I've been trying to think of a gift I can give you in return. There's nothing that leaps to mind. Nothing I can find or make out of steel or gold can equal what a dwarf could make and..." she tilted her head and looked at him carefully with both eyes, one after the other, as he broke into a mischievous grin. He had something in mind already.
Baduil changed perch, moving to her shoulder.
"If you didn't have that dragon at home I know what I'd ask for Syreilla. Has he made his way back into your good graces?"
"He has. Uncle has made him a god of purification and punishment." She grinned impishly as Orsas eyed her with reddening ears, falling in to walk next to him as he turned away. "It suits him and he's happier now. We both are."
"None of the Fellwives enjoy that part of me."
"They don't know what they're missing. There's no pleasure quite like when he brings those teeth and claws to bear. But then Syreilla Hammersworn and I always did enjoy it when Kaduil would-" Syr jumped and laughed as the dwarf gave her a firm slap on the ass, the bird on her shoulder took flight in startlement. "You are such a flirt, Orsas!"
The black-haired dwarf grinned. "Dragons always take the best treasure for themselves. If you want to give me a gift, bless a dwarf and let me have a wife who will appreciate me in the same way."
"You mean like my father does? Or is there another way to do it?"