The group had spent the rest of the day going over the layout of Draco's stronghold Collette had died to provide them with, Bit thinking it a bright idea, for no apparent reason, to build the place to scale on the table out of wine bottles. While his half-inebriated state was annoying, his idea turned out to be rather brilliant, allowing them to formulate a plan of attack that utilized their Divine Gifts to maximum success. Especially the blind Troll, whose ability to create and manipulate shadows would be essential to what they’d easily agreed would be a night time raid.
Rick's ability to project his spirit from his body would be their guide the entire way, his Divine Gift allowing him to move unseen by the Demon Seed, yet still communicate with his teammates and flit easily from place to place. As their eyes, he would be able to guide them past many of the guards, letting them strike from within.
Once inside the walls, under the cover of Tanna's shadows, the rest of them would come into play. Sabra's Gift to spit a deadly poison would gain them entrance to the stronghold and repel any close quarters assaults that her skill as an Ogre didn't handle first, while Bit stormed the outside, knocking down the guard towers with his Divine Gift. Amaron had seen fit to turn his Blessed into warhorses, their unarmed strikes powerful enough to topple walls, and the tiny Halfling was no different than any other of the Horse God’s Blessed. Backing him up would be Tanna, using the night as a weapon to cover his back, her deadly shadows taking out the guards.
Inside, Izra and Ramora would take the lead, the Divine Fire Hepheron bestowed on any weapon his children held working well with Ramor's insight. Together, they would take out any who crossed their path, while Leto and Flick brought up the rear, the Blessed of Grannax using his Sunspear to mop up the remains, the Dwarf using his Gift of luck to ensure everything went in their favor.
A solid plan, they all agreed, that would give them the best possible chance for success. Troubling was the lack of information on Draco himself, specifically, which Demon God had chosen to Bless him. With their main target still a wild card, the team knew they’d have to regroup as quickly as possible so they could combine their efforts against him.
Rumilla, it was agreed, would just do what she did best. Rain chaos down on the Demon Seed with her blend of sorcery and the Divine Gift of Rajan, the ability to hurl holy lighting from her bare hands. The man they hunted may be unpredictable, but so was the fiery Elven Princess who would join them in Ricmar.
Though she couldn’t speak, Ramora thanked them all for risking their lives to help avenge her home and family. She knew as well as they did that Draco was growing too powerful, and must be dealt with, but for her, it truly was a personal crusade to punish the man who’d taken everything from her and to finally allow her family to rest in peace. To the last, her new companions had simply nodded, agreeing that while this was for the greater good, Ramora's devastated childhood had to be answered for.
"I think Izra likes you," Leto chuckled as they made their way back to the inn.
Ramora gave him a humorous look, holding up her thumb and forefinger, the space between them tiny.
He laughed at that, slipping his hands in his pockets. "Seems I have some competition for your attention. I'm not sure this is a battle I can win."
Ramora shrugged, giving him nothing. At the look of mock pain that crossed his face, she admitted he and the Deep Elf were neck in neck for that goal.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were enjoying this," he said, grinning.
The Blessed of Ramor gave him a sly look, confessing that the Blessed of Hepheron was very lovely. He wasn't bad, either, of course.
"Ouch," he groaned. "This is how it always goes, sadly. There's always a woman out there who’s prettier than me." He gave a very dramatic sigh that made Ramora laugh.
Enjoying herself every bit as much as Leto thought she was, the warrior offered him a consoling smile, and assured him there would always be a place for him as her beloved little brother.
"Now you're just being mean," he joked. "I can see it with Bit, but come on, I'm pretty hunky."
Snickering silently, she patted him on the arm, letting him know that he wasn't half bad in the hunk department.
"Growing up with Ascended has warped your views," he told her. "Among mere mortals, I’m delightful. Everyone tells me so."
Looping an arm through his, Ramora nodded, reminding him that Lieutenant Rills had found him especially captivating.
Grimacing, Leto retreated from that suggestion. "Nice guy, but I've never been good with fawning. Now, Rick, on the other hand, that's more my type."
Giving him a seductive look, Ramora asked what had happened to her being his type.
Flushing suddenly, Leto fumbled for words. "Well, you know, I mean, I wouldn't want to presume overly much, or anything."
Laughing, she leaned into him and called him a casual flirt.
"I admit it, I am," he sighed. "Back home, the ladies like men who smile and wink, but don't actually chase. They prefer to do the chasing themselves. Now, it would appear, my habit has gotten me in trouble."
Depends, she signed. How many times have you been caught?
Coughing, his blush deepened. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, you know."
Feigning shock, Ramora asked when he'd become a gentleman.
"Now you’re being mean again," he chastised her. "Or do you prefer when an interested party is as forward as Izra?"
Enjoying their casual banter, she smiled, admitting a little less forward was her preference. She chose to keep it to herself that if she hadn't wanted to check in on Chara and Esteban, she might well have headed back to the Deep Elf's room with her. For all her aggressiveness, the woman was very attractive, after all, and Ramora was growing weary of cuddling her pillow at night.
About time, her Avatar whistled.
Shooing the little Rabbit, she turned a smile up at Leto, grateful to see him smile back. Maybe it was time to let go of her heartache over Chara and enjoy life a little. Maybe even with the gentleman on her arm.
Why not, she asked herself.
Her Rabbit sang about there being no good reason not to savor the Blessed of Grannax and the Blessed of Hepheron, maybe at the same time.
Blushing a little, she asked the Bunny to kindly not put such ideas in her head. She was only human, after all, and had a mission to focus on.
With a merry tune, the Rabbit sang about it anyway, conjuring a melody of sweat-slicked bodies, gentle moans, and how lovely the dark-skinned Elf would look between the two blondes. The images it wove with its musical voice were quite graphic.
Turning red, Ramora stared at the ground.
"You okay?" Leto asked, picking up on the shift in her mood.
Ramora made the sign for her Avatar, which had Leto looking at her more closely, the opposite of what she'd wanted. Damn Rabbit. It bounced around laughing at her, tweeting on about threesomes.
"It's funny how easy it is to forget that you’re a mage," the Blessed of Grannax said. "What kind of Avatar do you have, if I may ask?"
Ramora told him, still staring at the ground as she tried to find some way to get the spirit to stop singing about group sex.
Leto snapped his head up, staring ahead. "Oh. A Rabbit. I see. Is it connected with Altimar in any way?"
Nodding furiously, Ramora begged her Avatar to stop painting images in her mind of her companion, naked, under her, please!
"I think I understand," Leto said. "So, it's always, um, how do I say this?"
Horny, Ramora signed.
"That's one way," he muttered.
Embarrassed beyond words at the turn their casual conversation had taken, Ramora wondered if he would be offended if she let go of his arm, not that she wanted to, he smelled really nice, and wow, he felt good against her, and Gods!
Her Rabbit snickered at her and showed mercy, falling silent.
"So, what do you want for dinner?" Leto asked, trying to change the topic as casually as possible.
Ram
ora signed pork before she thought about it.
The rest of the walk to the inn was rather awkward.
Chapter Thirty
UPON THEIR RETURN to the inn, the two met up with Chara and Esteban, both of them trying very hard to look casual to the couple. Thankfully, they seemed distracted, and didn't appear to notice the awkwardness between the two Blessed.
As they waited for dinner, Ramora realized Chara was wearing new clothes, and asked about them. Esteban told the tale of how she'd obtained them, much to the warrior’s dismay. Even worse was the color combination, and how they now looked as if they were dressing alike.
Leto made a comment about how they kind of seemed like sisters, got a strange look on his face, and didn't try to speak again for the rest of the evening. For that matter, neither did Esteban. Ramora and Chara were too busy arguing to notice, which both men were thankful for, having had the same thought.
Chara made a comment about not knowing Ramora was going for a brand, when Esteban took her by the hand and hurried her upstairs. Ramora stared, wondering what had gotten into the Werecat, but then realized she was alone with Leto, as her Rabbit started humming again. Excusing herself, she fled to her room.
The Blessed of Grannax sat for a while, wondering why he'd chosen that day to wear tight pants.
Falling across her bed, Ramora buried her face in a pillow and silently screamed. She was acting stupid, she knew it, and despite that, was still doing it. Sulking a little, she comforted herself by admitting that the High World had made a lot more sense. Everything in the Middle World seemed to come with messy entanglements and attachments.
Sighing to herself, she admitted that wasn't really the case. She was just uncertain how to act. With the Ascended, it was simple. Mortal though she'd been, everyone had known Ramor was grooming her to join their ranks, and as such, the usual rules forbidding intimacy had been lifted. She'd grown use to the casual manner the demigods approached things like sex.
That was there, though, not here. In the Middle World, things were different. You didn't just casually have sex with whoever struck your fancy at the moment. Mortal emotions made things complicated, love tended to happen, and how the Ascended treated that was a vastly different thing than how mortals viewed it.
She remembered how easily she'd fallen in love the first time. Only sixteen, she'd been utterly taken with one of Ramor's Ascended, a man named Garro. Not realizing the depth of the young girl's affection, Garro had bedded her. It was only after, when she'd seen him casually flirting with another Ascended that he'd come to see how she felt, and stricken that he'd hurt her, had tried to explain the different way Ascended viewed things, making a complete mess of it.
Collette had found her crying in her room and comforted her, telling her that things like love were emotions that the demigods experienced at much higher levels. They could be in love with many different people at once, while the mortal heart could usually only handle one at a time. When pressed by her young charge, the Blessed had admitted that she'd been in love once, with another Blessed, but had lost him in a battle.
With a kind smile, the fierce warrior had told the heartbroken girl that the heart heals itself, slowly, over time. The Blessed had promised that when she was older, she would understand, asking only that she not hate Garro. He hadn't meant to hurt her, and did cherish her.
Later, she'd found the Ascended as he was being chastised by Ramor for doing something so foolish as forgetting his daughter was only human. Seeing the grief the demigod felt, she'd come to understand that the people she'd grown up around experienced everything more powerfully. Stilling her aching heart, she'd entered and given Garro a hug, letting him know it was okay. His anger stilled by this, Ramor had forgiven his son as well, and taken great pains after that to educate the girl on her people, having forgotten to do so before.
Even now, she found, she still had trouble with it. Part of her understood how the Ascended viewed things, and still longed for Chara's embrace, even knowing she couldn't have it, for it would hurt Esteban. For her, it was a simple matter of sharing, both of them loving her fully, but that was her upbringing, not the way things worked on the mortal world.
There was the other part of herself as well, that had grown too accustomed to casual encounters that wanted to go to Leto. He would likely not understand, though, and might be hurt by it when he learned that while she found him attractive, and cared for him, she wasn't in love with him, and probably never would be.
Frustrated by her dueling natures, Ramora buried her face in the pillow again. Why couldn't mortals just have fun and not worry about it all so much? Then she remembered she was a mortal, and how much Chara's rejection of her had hurt. That was probably why, when she thought of it.
Stupid humanity, she pouted. At least Ogres had it right. Their natural tendency towards open relationships made everything so much less messy. She kind of wished she'd been born an Ogre. Or an Elf. They had fewer social restrictions on that sort of thing.
That just made her think of Izra again, and she felt herself flush with heat.
Stupid Rabbit.
It twittered about, sorry for getting her worked up. Cuddling it close to her heart, she smiled, telling it to never mind all that. She'd known she would encounter many difficulties readjusting to mortal life. This was just one of them.
As the night grew late, her Avatar sang to her, and more agitated than she knew what to do with, Ramora tended herself.
Across town, Izra sat on the edge of her bed, fingers twisting the sheets as she clutched at them, body straining as nimble blue fingers teased over her breasts. Tanna may be blind, but she certainly knew what to do with her tongue.
Gasping and moaning, the Deep Elf felt her entire body light up with pleasure as the Troll ran her hands back down Izra’s body, touch so feather light it was almost ghostly, making her skin goosebump. Grinning at the whimpers of delight her lover let slip, Tanna eased her closer to release, taking her time, knowing from their past encounters what the Elf desired.
With a sudden shudder, Izra clutched for the Troll, hanging on to her as her body pulsed, dragging cries from her throat as Tanna drew it out, bringing the Elf to the very verge of begging her to stop before she exploded. She never had, and resisted the urge now, letting the other woman drive her to the point the room swam and she wasn't sure which was up, even when she collapsed back on the bed, panting.
"Yeah," Izra gasped. "Okay. I'm done."
"Are you certain?" Tanna asked, smiling slightly as she rested her chin on the Elf's stomach, white-coated eyes seeing nothing, but her inner eye watching the woman's aura swirl with pink, purple, and fuchsia.
"I can't feel my toes," Izra whimpered.
Chuckling, Tanna stood, stretching her eight foot frame. She allowed the cool night breeze from the open window to kiss her body, before sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. Across the foot, Izra smiled at the ceiling, though she couldn't see it very well, everything in a pleasant haze.
"You're still better than me," the Elf finally sighed.
Tanna grinned. "Only from your perspective, my sweet. I find your touch most enthralling."
Giggling, Izra flopped over on her side, and after a few tries, managed to crawl up the bed to collapse against the Troll. "Then why can you move afterward, but I can't?"
"My people are built to be sturdy," Tanna teased, kissing her on the head. "The children of Hepheron have great stamina, while the children of Isel, great dexterity."
"I was wondering what you were getting out of this," the dark-skinned Elf snickered. "You like my agility."
"Among other things," the Troll admitted, sliding down to gather her lover closer.
"Like?" Izra encouraged, enjoying hearing people compliment her.
Tanna ran a hand over her face. "This doesn't bother you."
The Elf snorted. "Why would it?"
"I wear the blindfold for a reason," she reminded.
"Yeah, cause humans are stupid
," Izra told her, toying with a nipple so dark blue it was almost black.
Tanna smiled softly. "Not all. Our sister, Ramora, for example. I saw no pity for me in her aura, only faith in me as a Blessed."
"Plus, she's really hot," Izra snickered. "But, you already knew that."
"I did," the Troll admitted. "Her aura is clean, white and gold, brilliant to behold. I've never seen its like. I would enjoy watching it swirl with desire, passion, and release."
Leaning up to kiss her, Izra whispered, "That's why I love you so, bluebell. You have no concept of jealousy."
"Of course I do," Tanna said softly. "I see it all the time in others. I've just never felt it myself. A wasteful emotion. It does nothing but lure Corruption."
"I love the way you talk," Izra sighed.
"I love the way you moan," Tanna countered.
Nestling against her, the Elf grinned. "Pity Ramora is so hesitant, though. I almost expected her to invite me back to her room."
"A treat you would've deserved," Tanna intoned.
"What would you've done with yourself if I had, though?"
The Troll shrugged. "Lured Leto here, I would imagine."
"Oh, now," Izra laughed, pushing herself up. "You fancy the General, do you?"
"I suspect he could be a most fulfilling experience," the Troll answered, a sly smirk on her face. "At least, his aura suggested it strongly."
"I bet you would be right," the Elf nodded, grinning. "Though, he seems rather taken with Ramora, so probably not much chance of that happening, for either of us."
Tanna pulled her back, resting the white-haired woman’s head between her breasts. "You never know. Ramora was somewhat taken with you. I could see it clearly."
"Is that so?" Izra purred, listening to the steady rhythm of her lover’s heartbeat. "Might be we could have a little alone time with her, then."
Rise (War Witch Book 1) Page 35
