Ormiss & His Ambitions

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Ormiss, mercifully, did not seem like he was much into small talk. Once he was involved in his little magic puzzle-thing, he was consumed with it, his hands moving like a lace-maker's. Ethat, still pinned by chains, watched with open interest. Itek chirped to me, clicking his beak, until I went over to him and pressed my face into his feathered ruff. He curled his big head down around me as best he could with all the chains and muzzles, clicking and chirping.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get to you." I rubbed my cheek into his ruff.

He clicked and purred, then carefully knuckled down as best he could, negotiating his chains, and purred expectantly. I settled against his ruff, keeping one eye on Korr. Ethat shifted against his chains, trying to roll onto his belly without actually rolling on his belly and breaking his vigil over his brother, but I didn't need to hear him speak to know he was insanely jealous Itek was cuddling with me.

Itek made a deep purr-crooning noise, and shifted his big ruff so it squished me like a broody hen.

Ethat growled.

I pushed Itek back and hissed, "Don't pick fights."

Itek chuckled. Ethat growled. I peeked out from under Itek's feathers at Asund. He rested on his chest, muzzle on his forepaws, staring straight ahead.

But he rolled one eye at me and wagged his tail very slowly.

Ethat stretched his neck more, made a grunting noise, and focused on Ormiss' magic. Itek chuckled and chirped once. Asund panted a canine laugh.

Tons of shit talk. All the shit talk. I couldn't tell if Ormiss deliberately ignored them or was so engrossed with whatever magic thing he was doing he wasn't paying attention. I found myself staring at him, taking in the way the magic snaked around his toned, shaped arms and fingers, and he deftly wove it into some pattern with sharp, sure, movements.

I couldn't even read. I could sound out a couple of letters. Here I was surrounded by all these powerful, high-bred shifters. Even Asund could run circles around me. Thank goodness nobody had asked me what are you good at? Because apparently I wasn't a good fuck (Lucretia was... even in my dreams, I hadn't been a magical tumble), I couldn't read, I didn't have magic, I didn't even know what kind of shifter I was.

I knew how to make bread, though. And I guess you could say I wasn't a coward.

I shifted spots to go sit with Ethat for a few minutes. He nudged me towards his brother. I carefully curled up against Korr's side, hoping I wasn't laying on a broken rib or bruise. I rested my cheek against his hot scaled hide and stroked his scales.

Eventually the door to the prison opened and a small group of hippocamps entered. Ormiss twisted, balancing his creation on upstretched fingers. I lifted my head off Korr and realized I was damp with sweat—I'd fallen asleep against him and he was so hot I had started sweating.

There were four guards with tridents, one hippocamp wearing a necklace of small vials and many shells and such, and a tool belt around his waist, and two meeker assistants carrying more items. ToolBelt hippocamp did not look amused.

"Eaon," Ormiss greeted him, somehow lifting himself to his feet and pivoting around without stumbling or using his hands to balance at all. As deft and smooth as if he'd turned around in water. He gracefully flicked his wrist and the ball of magic twirled about and disappeared into his necklaces, and his hair swished around his hips.

"Ormiss," Eaon said, "What are you doing here?"

"Keeping my consort company while she keeps vigil over another consort," Ormiss said. He gestured for me, took my hand and held it up slightly, nodded to me, then told the new guy, "Theia, this is Healer Eaon. Eaon, my consort, Theia. And her other consorts, Korr, Itek, Ethat, and Asund. But we do not discuss Asund."

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