Planning

Upon returning to the embassy, once having passed the twin set of double doors of the entryway, the first thing they came upon was Tessa. And Liriel, next to her. Neryn had insisted that Silendiel return to the embassy with her almost immediately after the encounter with the guards, once they had both recovered from the moment for another minute, and it was obvious that she insisted on the return in order to speak to her Captain.

Silendiel’s eyes remained on Liriel, for a long moment. However typical she might have been for a sin’dorei servant before having taking up her position at the embassy, she was now obviously of a different type. The azure light of the symbol upon her forehead outshone her golden eyes, at least in that moment. Beneath her tightly-fit, white shirt, thick bands of blue light shone, wrapping around her form, curling around the slight bump of her stomach. One quite similar to Silendiel’s own, if perhaps somewhat smaller. The whole embassy knew, already, what it meant for their seneschal to light up like a pale blue, silvery torch, but Silendiel had had less time to become used to the notion.

Liriel’s assumption of her position had been more difficult. Having heard tell of it in vague terms from Neryn, there was a side of Silendiel which clung to an unreasonable level of pride over the fact that she had not needed the blessing of the priestess in order to couple with Neryn. And, in some primal way that she preferred not to indulge in too deeply, she remained proud of her ability to do what Liriel could not, without aid, even if it seemed not terribly noble to be of a line more suited to, more capable of, taking colossal kaldorei cock. Even so, with but a single exchanged look, Silendiel knew that Liriel understood her thoughts precisely.

“They tried to come for us, too,” Neryn was saying to Tessa.

Silendiel wrestled her attention from Liriel to the two officers, instead. There was a part of her which felt physically insignificant next to the two, but the stubborn insistence upon herself, which had brought her so much trouble over the years, and much advantage and joy, too, made her assert her presence. In a minor way. She stepped up close to Neryn, delicate fingers coming to rest, casually, on the front of the sentinel’s thigh.

“Too? This is not the first encounter?” Silendiel had to lean her head back quite far to look up at the two kaldorei.

With a sigh, a sound produced out of exasperation and apology both, somehow, Tessa turned just a fraction. Bodily including Silendiel in the conversation, if only just. “The last night and day, we have registered observers of the embassy’s exterior,” Tessa said. “Anyone leaving the premises finds themselves, sooner or later, encountering city guards. Each learns the same thing. A Lady Silversong has prompted the city to begin looking into our presence more actively.”

“You are a hostage,” Neryn said, her attention momentarily laid on Silendiel. “According to them. As you heard.”

“Every blood elf in this building is, supposedly, a hostage. We have captured every single one of you, and keep you here against your will,” Tessa said. She glanced towards Liriel, who stood in silence, hands gathered before herself. Listening, eyes downcast just so.

It was unclear whether Liriel even knew that Tessa looked at her, and more doubtful still whether she understood what was clear to Silendiel. That the Captain, for all her continued, stony, stern behavior, for all the possessive, rough nature of the hand that came to rest behind Liriel’s head, fingers pressing into golden locks, nevertheless still looked upon her with care. Care that the Captain was, perhaps, not aware of herself. Care that was clear to Silendiel, regardless.

“Do you want to go home, Liriel?”

“No, mistress,” Liriel said.

“How will we convince this Silversong of your desire to be here?”

“Perhaps we should take this to the priestess, Captain,” Neryn said, before Liriel could answer the question.

Tessa’s eyes remained on Liriel, who, by all rights, in that moment, with unkind eyes, might as well be a prisoner. Held in the terrifyingly tight grip of a night elf much her physical superior, even seeming partially to expect some aggressive gesture. Silendiel knew, in that moment, what they were up against. Had, in some sense, known it all along. It was the aggression, the promise of **** even if not acted on, the physical conquest that grated on the senses of everyone else. Understandably, perhaps, they did not comprehend how she might wish for Neryn to continue to pound into her. How Liriel might look into Tessa’s eyes and wish for that hard discipline with which she was presented. Abundant, in every moment. It was unnatural, to the common person. Incomprehensible.

“I should be present,” Silendiel said, after a moment’s pause. “This is my doing. The rumors I instigated have continued to live their own life, even after I stopped what was happening.”

Perhaps in response to that assertion, perhaps feeling some need to physically demonstrate the bond between the two in a manner similar to Tessa and Liriel, Neryn reached over to curl a possessive arm around Silendiel, snaking around the small of her back. Support, too, after her admission, even if it was an admission that everyone in the embassy knew already. Those rumors were not extinguished simply because she had overcome her rebellious counter-reaction to uncomfortable feelings of attraction.

Tessa nodded. To Silendiel, and to Neryn, both. “Liriel will ask the priestess for her time, for a meeting. Ten minutes,” Tessa said. “We need to deal with this before they lay siege to this place.”

Neryn disentangled herself enough from Silendiel to be able to salute her Captain properly, one arm behind her back, a fist against and over her heart. The response was a nod, Tessa, physically dragging a faintly blushing and awkwardly stumbling Liriel with her by that grip of her hair, turned, ascending the stairs and heading towards her own quarters.

Before Neryn could do something similar, Silendiel took half a springing step away. “Go to your quarters. I will bring water for freshening up. We have time for that, at least, before the meeting.”

“Would it matter if I told you that I would prefer you coming up with me now?”

“No, mistress,” Silendiel said, a hint of a challenging, wry smile on her lips even as she said that last word. “I wish only to serve.”

“I prefer you not to lie to me,” Neryn said.

“A lie in itself,” Silendiel said. She turned, and moved quickly towards the kitchens, to the sound of a sigh from behind her. One she felt dramatic enough to count as put-upon, rather than heartfelt.