Hammer and Feather Ch. 14-21

"Cyran's threads are out of place. He needs the chance to put them right. Doing this will help him. You're the god of purification and rebirth. You make things pure and new, my Syvezar. It takes strength to do what he has to do and he'll need yours. His faith in himself needs to be remade."

Kissing her urgently, he opened her threads and saw the certainty she had in his abilities, as untested as he himself felt they were and the shape of her plans unfolded before him.

"I will do all I can, my treasure. Tomorrow night I would spend alone with you, if Vedhethrah gets this one."

"If you both want time alone with me we'll have to discuss it together and make the arrangements. I want time with both of you sometimes too." Syreilla grinned wickedly at him and stroked the threads of desire.

"I will give you anything you desire."

*Nineteen and a half*

The long chain mail shirt that was lent to Vedhethrah was light and neither he nor the elf were certain that it would fit as intended, but something could be fashioned from it. The steel rings didn't feel much better than the cloth when he touched it but, he touched Syreilla's threads and reassured himself that his golden treasure was still close, he had the only gold he needed.

A tent had been hastily prepared, it had little more than bedding in it and the elves who escorted him to it looked at him curiously.

"Speak."

"Forgive our curiosity, my Lord, but... Dragons sleep atop their treasure in the stories, we weren't certain if the bedding-"

"I will sleep atop my treasure." He couldn't keep the amusement from his face. "I have spent too long without her to sleep anywhere else." That he would have her to himself made him long to cast off the less lovely form that their grandfather had given him and take her to a place he could truly enjoy it.

Entering the tent alone, he paced the inside. It smelled strongly of elves. It wasn't an unpleasant scent but there was fear beneath all of it. The smell was faint and lingering even in the open between the tents, he'd noticed.

Vedhethrah tossed Syreilla's cloak onto the bed to help cover the scent. The chainmail was laid on the small, low table near it. He reached out with his thoughts and felt her reassuring Syvezar. Plans formed in front of her from her visions, the way forward leapt out at her and she trusted her luck and skill to allow her to see it all through.

The feeling of risk still weighed on him. A low rumbling growl escaped from him and there was a fluttering of wings and calling of rooks. Syreilla came in grinning shortly after.

"My dragon, the rooks think you're frightening the elves with your grumbling."

"You think you can sway me with your sweet smiles, Syreilla. I feel the risk you intend to take."

Still smiling, she nodded and began to undress. Once naked with her clothes tossed next to his chain shirt on the table she bent, studying the steel garment. "It's not poorly made but it looks a little small."

He gave another low growl coming to stand behind her and hold her hips. "You cannot distract me."

The half-elf laughed and pressed back against him. "Is that a challenge?"

Vedhethrah caught himself grinning down at her. "If I challenge you enough will you give up your foolish idea?"

"I need to make an impression, beloved." She picked up the chain and turned in his grasp, holding it and pressing it to his chest. "I need them to see me and be afraid."

He tried not to twitch.

"Even steel is unpleasant?"

"It feels better than cloth." Vedhethrah started to take it from her and she laughed, pulling it away and moving toward the bed.

"Does gold feel better?"

"You are the only-"

"-Gold that you need, yes, but I understand if you want it against your skin instead of cloth or steel. You want my safety and I want your happiness, my dragon. I am as I've always been, enamored of danger and stupidity. I live for the thrill of theft, the danger of getting caught or worse." Syreilla grinned at him as she held the mail close, running her hands over it suggestively. "And you, my beloved dragon, are a god of punishment and pain. Happiness is difficult for you and pleasure is fleeting."

Pushing her down on the bed, he allowed a low groan of desire to resonate from his chest, "Not in your presence."

"You and I are both perfectly suited and terribly matched." She laughed softly, stealing a kiss and wrapping her legs around him as the chain fell to the side. "I will strive to take your wants and needs into account, but I cannot be other than what I am, and I expect no less of you."

"I want to be in my proper form to have you." Vedhethrah kissed her urgently and pressed his claws into her back, forcing her to arch away from the bed and against him.

"I want it too, but not yet. Soon." Her lustful whisper against his skin as she kissed and nipped at his neck made him forget everything but her touch for a moment.

"My perfect Syreilla."

*Twenty*

Syvezar put his hand on Cyran's shoulder as they readied themselves to mount the horses, subtly putting forth his will to aid his cousin. "You have the harder task of putting your threads back into place. I'll be next to you, my friend, if you should need me."

"And if they slaughter us?"

"If they murder us we will return to Grandfather and be fully subject to his wishes."

He watched as Cyran took a breath.

"That would be bearable."

"At the worst, they might try to bind us in a dark place as she did to our uncle. And Syreilla can free us from any prison."

"I have no sigil and my stone is no longer in my possession."

"Syreilla's is with the dwarves, carved, and set to their purpose. If you ask the others, she's at a greater disadvantage than you are." Syvezar squeezed the man's shoulder. "Her sigil is a feather. Any feather, if she blesses it. Create a sigil if it will ease your mind."

Cyran smiled faintly, "Feathers suit her. What suits me?"

"White flame," Kwes spoke gently as he rounded the horses. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"White flame isn't something I can hold in my hand and make into a sigil."

"Why white flame?" Syvezar looked at them both curiously.

"The first time I met our cousin, he was shrouded in white flame and wielding a flaming sword. He put right a thing his father had done wrong."

"Yes..." Cyran rubbed his face and then smiled. "I've already given my sword away with a blessing but even if I hadn't, it wouldn't feel right as my sigil. I wanted to be a god of mediation, a god of healing."

"When I was young..." Syvezar looked into the middle distance of memory, "There was a small sect of healers my mother and I traveled with for a time. They tied magic charms onto strands of twisted thread. Even now, when I think of a symbol of healing I think of those beaded bracelets."

After a moment of contemplation, Cyran pulled several threads from his grey cloak and fished a tarnished bead out of a pocket. He strung it together into a bracelet and tied the ends.

"I'll give it to you, Kwes, to keep if... if you would accept it."

"I'll be proud to wear it."

"Do you have a sigil, Syvezar?"

Both looked at him with some concern.

"Not yet, but as long as Vedhethrah is free I need none. We are not fully separated."

"I don't understand how that works." Kwes shook his head, "You look like very different people."

"It suits us, and it pleases our treasure."

The half-elf's eyes narrowed and his face broke into a mischievous grin, "Cousin?"

"Don't ask. I walked in on the three of them..."

Kwes started to laugh, "Let her make another comment about my having been raised by elves."

"Was there a reason you came back?" Syvezar tried to conceal his amusement.

"To ask if you were ready and if you were sure you wanted to go alone. One of us will come with you if you want us to."

"I would have you stay and be safe." Cyran smiled and cupped the simple bracelet in his hands. "Take it, wear it in good health and with any blessing I can offer you." He closed his eyes and exhaled before handing it over. "If you should need me, hold it and speak my name. I will come to you."

The half-elf took it, pulling on the now white bracelet with its shining silver bead etched with a symbol of flame, and smiled warmly, "I'll do my best. One of the others would be willing-"

"The two of us are enough, Kwes."

"Syreilla is ready. She wants it to be dim."

"I still don't understand what I need to do."

"Be yourself as you were meant to be." Syvezar smiled. "That's all she needs. You don't have to sneak or deceive. Our task is to help put things right. Keep your head up and know who and what you are all the way to the core of you."

Cyran looked down and smiled. When he lifted his head he looked more certain and Syvezar felt that his threads were more firmly in place.

"I'm ready."

Together they made their way past the quiet elves and rode past the line of low trees and scrub into the open of the field, holding the elvish banner, silver-trimmed white bearing a slender white tree on a silver shield, high.

In the middle, Syvezar stopped and made his voice ring out effortlessly with the aid of a little magic, "We come to speak with those who lead these soldiers. Lady Rook will grant you the opportunity to surrender and return home if you choose to speak to us respectfully and give up all captives you hold."

There was laughter from the line in the distance in front of them and, for a few long moments, he didn't think they were going to take the bait and bring them into the encampment. Finally, a group of soldiers came forward with weapons drawn.

"We'll respectfully invite you in to discuss the matter with Lady Rook. Dismount and give over your weapons."

A few of them laughed. "This should be something to see."

"We have no weapons. Custom dictates-"

"You'll do what we say or things will get much less respectful, you ugly... what are you? You're not an elf."

"Lady Rook's husband."

The men broke into laughter, "Then you should be eager to step inside."

"I think she'll ask for a divorce," another snickered.

"If we enter, Lady Rook won't be far behind." Syvezar shrugged as he dismounted and began walking in the direction they indicated. "She wished to give you the choice."

"She's fond of giving people a choice." Cyran sounded amused despite the armed men.

The soldiers glanced at one another dubiously in the face of their lack of concern. Syvezar gave them a wide smile and the men gripped their weapons more tightly, ushering them toward the line.

*Twenty and a half*

Her soft laughter as he kissed and nipped her hip, sitting up to survey his golden treasure, made Vedhethrah purr with pleasure and pride.

"I love that sound." Syreilla stretched and rolled onto her belly. "It makes me think of our nest bed at home."

"I want to put doors on your balconies." He teased, coming to lie on top of her and nibble on her shoulder.

"Never. The most I'll give you is a gate that keeps people from coming directly from my audience chamber into our bedroom."

"The walkway should send them into your garden and that archway should have a door."

She turned her head enough to give him a sour look. "No doors on my balconies. You can make the walkway go through the garden and put a gate on the path below where I don't have to see it from the bed."

Laughing, Vedhethrah kissed her neck. "I will have Syvezar make it a gate that suits your garden and sits at the foot of your balcony stairs. Perhaps he can grow some of your climbing flowers to create a barrier."

Her face softened. "A gate with a trellis arch, flowers and vines that reach the wall, and no door on my balcony? I could live with that."

His Syreilla began to roll over beneath him but the sound of heavy footfalls got his attention. The flap pushed open and a dwarf barged in brandishing a small axe and a golden feather.

"My Nali?" Syreilla sat up partway with a curious smile.

"The elves woke Uncle Magpie asking if you were really safe, Lady Rook. They've been hearing sounds all night." The creature flushed, looking away as if realizing what the sounds might have been.

"I wanted the two of you to meet but not quite like this." His treasure grinned and pushed him gently so that she could sit up completely. "Vedhethrah, this is Nali Rookfriend of Clan Hammersworn. Nali, this is my husband, one of my husbands, Vedhethrah, the god of punishment and pain, if you've earned it."

Nali put her axe away and tucked the feather down her front. Closing her eyes she nodded in his direction. "Sorry to intrude, Lord Vedhethrah. I just wanted to make sure she was safe."

He made an amused sound and the dwarf's eyes flew open in surprise.

"If you would face a dragon with a tiny axe and a feather, you're as brave and foolish as my treasure." His smile seemed to put her at her ease. "I also want her safety. I have you to thank for pulling her from the black lake?"

"I'd have done it sooner if I'd known she needed me to. Though..." The dwarf winced. "Baduil always got very excited when I held the feather. He wanted me to call for you and I told him no, because it wasn't a toy. Father was very clear that the feather was a responsibility and I shouldn't call you unless it was a dire emergency."

"And he's right." Syreilla laughed. "You did nothing wrong, Nali. The feather is for you to summon me when you need me, not when you think I need to be pulled out of something."

Vedhethrah gave her a sour look. "My-"

"When you make a sigil, which I'd like you and Syvezar both to do and give to Edun, you can tell the one or ones who hold it the circumstances they can summon you under. If you want them to call for you when they think you're weak or in trouble, pulling your focus at a delicate moment-"

He made a sound of annoyance. "The lake was a different matter."

"It gave me time to think. I'd have been distracted by my dragon otherwise." She grinned and stole a kiss. "It's time to get up and dress. Thank you for your worry, Nali, but you don't need to worry over me. It's my job to worry over you. Trust that I see things well enough to keep my word."

"Yes, Lady Rook." Nali smiled ruefully and inclined her head.

"Stay close to Edun. Baduil can look after you both today, I have some plans to see through."

°°°°°°°°°°

"My treasure..." Vedhethrah scowled at the siege weapon she was planning to use. "I can fly you there."

"Yes, but they'll be talking about my beautiful dragon and not about the Golden Rook, beloved."

He tried not to let his resolve melt as she wrapped herself around his more human form, the steel of the mail felt like gold against his skin with her blessing on it. "You will be away from me. I cannot agree to this."

"I'm going from one of my dragons to the other. Syv is going to ride with Cyran and meet me there."

"This is dangerous." His hands had begun to roam over her of their own accord as she pressed kisses to his throat.

"Yes." She nipped him less than gently as she stroked the threads of desire and he purred without being able to help himself. "That's the thrill of it, my beloved dragon."

Peering into her threads, he could see that was one thing that would never change. "Return to me."

"Always." Syreilla grinned and gave him a lingering kiss before stepping into the sling of the wood and leather machine.

"They've taken the mediators captive!" The call came back to them as expected and he stepped away allowing the elves to finish their preparations and pull the lever, sending his treasure into the air.

She burst into flame, the image of a bird made of dragon's fire with wings spread wide and brilliant flames trailing behind like a long tail, soaring overhead toward the human lines. As he rushed to a vantage he could see her better, a volley of arrows from the human soldiers went up. He tensed but they melted away. As she touched down before their lines, it was as if the ground beneath her exploded.

Isca's soldiers panicked, trying to get away from the flaming debris and Syreilla walked out of the burning crater dusting herself off.

An elf put his hand on Vedhethrah's shoulder and grinned, "She does make an impression."

The dragon growled low in his chest and the elf removed his hand. "Remember that she is mine."

He kept his eyes trained on the place she vanished into the mass of soldiers.

*Twenty-one*

Nali felt more than a little silly as she made her way back toward Uncle Magpie's tents. She peeked into Edun's as she got back to them and Baduil called down to her that they were in the tent he was perched on. Ducking into it with a rueful smile, she found them settling in for breakfast with two more guests.

"Lady Rook didn't need rescuing?" Magpie gave her a mischievous grin.

Her face flushed and he laughed. Amtalia shook her head and gave Nali a commiserating look.

"I was worried for her when I heard them talking too. But," She glanced at one of the guests, "Syvezar says the dragon-"

"Vedhethrah." The man gave her an amused look. "He would never harm her."

"He seemed sweet to her." Nali inclined her head, taking a place next to Belthamdir. "Like Father is to Razi."

"Will they be joining us?" Tirnel frowned slightly.

"She didn't mention it. Lady Rook sent me to stay close to Edun. She has plans for the day and I'm not sure Lord Vedhethrah liked them. His eyes went..." Nali brought her fingers together as if she were blinking sideways and Syvezar looked amused.

"If you called him Lord Vedhethrah without prompting he may be fond of you. I trust her judgment but he... requires persuasion."

"Why wouldn't I call him Lord Vedhethrah? He's Lady Rook's husband, and a god."

"As am I." Syvezar smiled warmly at her and she looked at the others incredulously.

"Cyran is a god too." Magpie shrugged, "And so is one of my fathers. I don't call them Lord unless they ask me to."

"We were once known as the King Undying." Syvezar smiled wistfully. "It would be nice to be addressed by a title again."

Belthamdir asked an annoyed-sounding question and he smiled widely at her and answered. Amtalia began serving some sort of porous root that looked interesting if not appetizing but she had more of the bread and cheese set aside for Nali.

Before she could ask, Tirnel explained gently, "The last time I saw this served to a dwarf he fell ill. There are a few mushrooms that dwarves enjoy that make elves ill and a very few of our foods that they don't take well to. Eorana is one of them."

"Oh. I didn't know that." Nali nodded and glanced at Belthamdir's plate as the girl frowned at the thin slice of it, holding it up to peer through it. "I was looking forward to trying it."

When she glanced back, Tirnel was smiling warmly at her. "In better days, I would have been delighted to have a feast arranged for you to allow you to try the things that wouldn't make you ill."

"I'll hope Lady Rook brings you better days." Nali grinned as he laughed cheerfully.

An elf pushed the flap open and looked in apologetically as he said something in their tongue. Magpie gave a grim nod and stood, as did Syvezar.

"Cyran, Syreilla told them that it's time. Thank you for the breakfast, Amtalia, and for the pleasant company."

The three left and the half-elf twisted her fingers looking at the flap they'd gone through before murmuring what Nali suspected was a prayer. The woman tried to put on a cheerful face. "Please eat, I'm sure everything will go well. Kwes says his sister's luck is legendary."

Nali nodded and then put on her best getting-out-of-trouble smile. "I overheard the priests at home ask once, how much luck did she really need with dragon's fire and those wards? Some of the ones in the tomes are so ugly they put locks on the books themselves. Good locks. I was only able to look at them because they were careless with the keys."