Cover your bases. Send Beldin and Venium

You make your decision and summon your son and daughter to the throne room. Yes. Between the two of them they should be able to cover one another’s weaknesses, and Venium would never align herself with Beldin’s goals. Your mind briefly flashes to Darius but, you think with a smile and tingling in your freshly milked teat, it may be good to keep so loyal a child close, for now.

You make both your children wait for their audience until you’re certain they have both arrived, then tell a page (one of your youngest children) to admit them. The doors you had installed in the main chamber open and both your children step forth.

Beldin comes first. Slender as all elves are, he lacks the more obvious muscles of a soldier and hides what he does have beneath clinging black leathers and the shroud of a piwafi. His hair is white as bone and hidden beneath a hood, a scarf pulled down from its usual place revealing his mouth. On one hip rests the familiar bulge of a shortsword and on the other a dagger, both wrapped in muffling cloth. He makes less than a whisper of sound as he stalks inside. His head is ducked, violet eyes lowered subserviently before you, but he tends to lurk in your presence with shoulders hunched with resentment to the lack of respect he is given.

At his side strides in Venium. She is tall and statuesque, her form fitting grey armour embracing her generous curves with ridged plates. She wears a metal helmet which frames her full featured face and flows back along her head, her long hair reaching the small of her back projecting from the helmet like a silver tail. She wears a crimson cloak and a thin strip of silk of the same colour descends from her belt to swish between her legs with every step. Her chin is high and haughty, her eyes alight with confidence as she struts into your presence on her long legs.

The throne room is almost pitch black, but to your night vision the sight of them walking along the black carpet to the base of your dais is clear as a surface dweller’s day. They themselves have some trouble looking right at you, for your onyx throne, carved to resemble an immense black spider lurking behind your head with eyes of rubies, has an array of magic threads strung all about the room like a web, gleaming faintly in the dark with a light like fresh dew. When they reach the foot of the first step both kneel before your looming throne, lowering their heads subserviently. With strict casualness you move your robe back into place, hiding your dusky breast, and return your dress to proper order, hiding the fold of your pussy. They are here at your pleasure, not theirs, is the silent reminder.

“Venium,” you greet with a nod. “Beldin.” You wave your hand augustly. “You may rise.” Both dark elves do so and fix you with their eyes expectantly. “My children,” you begin gravely, laying your hands on the arms of your spider shaped throne and leaning back beneath the spider. “I have a task for you both. Though we have come to this valley, we have yet to learn much about it. This must be rectified at once. Your task is to scout out the terrain we shall soon rule over and learn who it is our subjects will be. I want to know the lay of the land, as well as who may become our allies, and who our enemies.”

“What shall we do if the opportunity to act is before us?” your daughter asks, her voice faintly quivering with excitement at the thought.

You consider this with a long finger pressed against your chin. “…Use your best judgment,” you finally say. “But do nothing reckless. Our position is too **** to risk a war so early on.”

Your daughter bows her head, her exuberance slightly tempered by the silent chastisement. “Of course, mother.”

You notice your son has been giving your daughter a look of thinly veiled scorn. She of course has failed to see it. “You have something to add?” you ask him pointedly.

He looks at you and quickly ducks his face beneath his hood. “Will others come with us?” asks your son, his voice carrying a faint hiss.

You quickly fix on him your sternest eye. “Watch your tone Beldin. You two may choose four of your siblings. No more. And your sister must confirm any that you decide to take.”

Venium grins again and looks at your shadowed son proudly. He merely cocks an eyebrow at her and lets it pass as if wondering why she should be which earns him a glare. You sigh softly. This may have proven a mistake. But it is too late now. You raise a hand in a dismissing gesture.

“You both may go. See to it you do not fail me.” Both your children bow once more in token respect to you, then turn and glide back out the chamber leaving you alone with your reservations.