The Three Adventurers Pt. 15

Included kinks:

Futa, fantasy, mini-gts, family drama, personal backstories, darker tone, confrontation, public nudity, size praise, female muscle, mini giantess, hourglass figure, bbw, character focus

All characters are entirely fictional and all above the age of 18!

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"And THEN you should have seen their stupid faces! Their ears looked like they were about to fall off!" Fel laughed.

Syn listened in silence, choosing to let a moment light-heartedness take away the edge off a situation this undeniably grim.

The orc's laughter was so hearty the many chains she was ensnared by shook with the rest of her now even more impossible frame.

Syn found great appeal in watching Fel from beyond the bars that separated them. Not only due ... her evident improvements in size. But also seeing at least one of them finding some joy in, more than likely, their final hours on this world.

"It's really great you got that off your chest, Fel. Really great, but you know what? I might know something that would've been even better than insulting elves. You want to know?" Lyanne said, her voice seething with anger Fel didn't notice.

"Oh. Please," Fel smiled innocently.

"HOW ABOUT TRYING TO GET US OUT INSTEAD OF SURRENDERING?!"

Syn had to admit Lyanne's anger was somewhat justified. Not that anyone could expect Fel to magically carve her way into a dungeon she couldn't possibly know existed. Let alone where to find it. Still, both clearly held onto the fool's hope Fel would end up doing ... just something else really.

"Come on. That is not fair," Fel said amused and greatly exaggerated. "What would you want me to do? Tickle them? I mean, I could probably knock them out with my dong now. Wait... that sounds awesome! I need to try that next."

Lyanne burnt with cold fury. Being chained by all fours to the floor, would have hurt even the most ordinary footman's pride, let alone an anointed knight. Especially this one. Lyanne's head somehow found another, darker shade of red to turn to, with veins pulsating down her wide neck.

Not even Fel could fail to notice this time.

"Like seriously. They have already found me and Syn made me promise not to kill them," Fel sighed. "I thought it would be better if we were all together."

"Well? How is that working out?" Lyanne spat, making Fel only roll her eyes.

"Fel has a point," Syn said, making both warriors turn to their left to the sole prisoner who was merely chained by her wrists.

The elves chose the most curious occasion to start treating her as one of their own, Syn thought. Although, seeing the manner in which her comrades were detained she ended up feeling more grateful than insulted by the gesture.

"Fel would've never found us here anyway and three brains are always better than two," the half-elf said softly. "But I'll admit, maybe it was a mistake to not bring her in the first place."

"Thank you! Finally!" Fel chirped, her much thicker and heavier chains rattling once again.

Lyanne, laying in between her comrades, visibly lost the strength to even feel anger.

"This couldn't have gone any worse," she muttered to herself.

"Come on. It is not all bad," Fel said in her unbroken upbeat tone. "We are together. And now we can all think of a way to break out. That will be the fun part."

"You know that is the part where you realise the deep shit we're in," Lyanne said sourly. "And swallow that infuriating smirk of yours."

"Lyanne, if you would have felt what I have felt you would be smirking too. Trust me."

It was impossible to deny Fel's great mood... and the cause for her euphoria.

Her staggering new size was more than evident in that mindbogglingly arousing profile. Even with her chest and limbs thoroughly covered by all the chains the dungeon wards managed to gather. Those colossal breasts jutting away from her green softness and raw strength rose like heaping mountains refusing to buckle under their own weight. Every inch of her seemed constantly in motion and pushing against the layers of metal trying to contain her.

The soft, but omnipresent jiggle in her now more pronounced belly spilled through the metal. The mighty contractions of her enormous muscles travelled down her legs. And especially the simply outrageously oversized slab of calves-thick, meat resting on top of Fel which even the guards didn't dare to rob of its colossal might.

Or they just ran out of chains, Syn thought. Sounded more likely than them finding the same appeal in an orc's cock that could rival most men's thighs in circumference. Flaccid.

It equally enraged and concerned Syn that ever since Fel was escorted in, barely fitting through the wide double door of her cell, her own cock started emphatically convincing her brain that their situation wasn't nearly as hopeless. Even with the certainty of death looming over them, the half-elf had to admit, she was more than pleased with the sight she was granted.

Fel had always been marvellous, but now, she was a titan. A gorgeous, hot and beyond anything massively endowed colossus. Syn estimated her to stand at 10ft in height and 'Huge Green' down there to be easily as impressive... once it roared to its full power. Hopefully she'd still get a chance to see that.

Lyanne's eyes wandered as well and must have caught her commander getting more enamoured with the Greenskin's new size. Especially where it mattered the most to both. Orc and half-elf alike.

"About that," Lyanne said eventually and turned to Syn. "You two did it again, huh?"

Syn caught the sadness in Lyanne's voice but was yet to realise something far more important was about to be revealed.

"We didn't fuck," Fel answered first. "I would have loved to, but we did not."

"Bullshit. Look at you."

"Lyanne, I swear. We didn't sleep with another behind your back," Syn said as well. "I haven't even touched Fel."

"Then explain to me," the islander said, her gaze travelling over the biggest of all orcs. "How did you end up like this? You're fucking huge!"

"I love when you call me that," Fel teased back, biting her lip.

Lyanne growled in despair and turned to Syn instead.

"Are you for real? You two didn't? Then how is this possible?"

"I really don't know. But it must mean something. Something that hasn't been revealed to us yet," she said shaking her head.

"It was a gift from the spirits for me," the orc kept smirking. "For believing in them and praying."

"You think a prayer made you grow?" Syn asked, little convinced.

"Sure, why not? Maybe they wanted to see their girl grow bigger. I mean, I asked them very nicely," Fel said.

"Maybe you should ask them to get us out of here alive then," Lyanne said sharply.

"Nah. I would take growing some more," Fel winked.

Syn could almost hear Lyanne's blood pressure rise again, but before she would reach her breaking point the dungeon's reinforced metal door creaked open.

The three turned around and watched the armoured guards enter before bowing to another visitor. Syn expected this moment would come, but that didn't mean she'd dread it any less.

"Lord Protector" the guards said dutifully to the richly garmented figure that barely addressed their presence.

"Leave us alone," he ordered.

The insignia of the library embroidered in the magnificent, brightly coloured robe, chains and rings befitting the wearer's rank shining bright in the dimly lit dungeon.

"Who's that?" Lyanne asked as the three watched the more than 7ft tall man silently observing them long after the guards left.

Neither of them had any idea who stood before them. To them, he was just another elf, wearing some rich attire and an arrogant stare. They couldn't possibly know that he embodied everything the elves stood for. The best and the worst.

A prodigy from a young age, the youngest First Scholar Yarathrond had ever seen, groomed into his role since the day he was born. His name, his looks, his young age among his peers, even the intricately groomed braids hanging below his chest, he was what many imagined the perfect elf. But Syn had always seen Lord Protector Jhaeros in a much different light.

"Fancy 'Big ears' here looks important," Fel joined in.

"Leave the talking to me," Syn insisted and turned towards him. "Both of you."

His brown eyes were digging into Syn, but she withstood his gaze as he walked closer. He only stopped when he was within reach of those metal bars and cast his shadow over Syn, wearing an expression she couldn't read.

She expected him to look more dismissively down at her. Disgusted or angered by how much further she strayed away from the elvish ideal with her even more than womanly curves and even greater size. But his eyes were not filled with disgust nor anger.

Slowly his cheeks crept up by barely an inch on both sides. Those close to him knew that was the full extent to which he could show anything resembling emotion.

"Syndranel... you are back," he muttered in elvish, his dark eyes burning like they very rarely did.

"Guess I am... father," Syn answered drily.

"What happened to you? Where have you been?" Jhaeros asked, quite impatiently, almost like he for once really cared for an answer.

"Nothing that is of your concern."

His smile slowly withered away when he realised that was all the answer he was granted. He always considered his attention a finite resource, one that should not go to waste without purpose. Syn was therefore little surprised when his attention quickly shifted away from his silent child to Lyanne and especially Fel.

"What in the world made you seek the companionship of a beast like this?" he asked in his more usual tone. "Disgusting creature. Did she do this to you?"

Fel's eyes darted between him and Syn not understanding his insults.

"Why is he staring at me like that? Is this skinny fucker talking about me?"

"Silence! What if he understands?" Lyanne shushed her.

"Pah... that one? No way. Look at him watching my dong, bet he likes what he sees," Fel smirked confident, until she saw his eyes narrow.

Little did she know, he was one of the few elves fluent in the language of humans. Although he only chose to only address one human in her native tongue all his life.

"As I said, disgusting," he said again in elvish. In a tone impossible to not feel fired up by.

Syn got on her knees, her chains rattling, and met him with defiance she wished she had found much earlier.

"That 'disgusting creature' has risen far beyond being a companion, father. My heart belongs to her. To both of them. We stood side by side in battle, faced grave danger and won great victories together," Syn said, slow and meticulous, like he once taught her.

"No doubt that thing has its worth in battle," he said dismissively, grimacing the longer he stared at Fel. "And none beyond that."

His daughter shifted her weight so rapidly all three were caught off guard by how loud her chains echoed through the room.

"They are worth more to me than everyone in these wretched walls combined," Syn said in a sinister tone. "They gave me warmth, comradery and pleasure you couldn't even fathom. Now, spare me your empty insults and get to the point why you came down here."

Syn knew her words would cut deep, but the last bit of sympathy she held for him died many years ago.

"Why did you return?" he eventually asked in a softer tone. "Why now? And why... with them?"

"Who knows? Maybe I missed the scenery or your serene company," Syn quipped, every word thick with sarcasm and fury. "Not for sentimental reason, that I assure you."

He eyed her intensely, his fingers fidgeting in the wide sleeves of his robe.

"The guards found the account of Lord Dilaran's last voyage in your possession," he said in a much older Scholar's tone. "Tell me what you sought to find in it."

"Don't know what you're talking about. Just felt nostalgic and wanted to read it again. It's a classic for a reason," Syn deflected.

Jhaeros took another step closer and looked down at Syn with worry now.

"Don't tell me you considered travelling to ... his grave."

Syn couldn't tell if his concern was indeed genuine or just another way to manipulate her.

"Why not? I heard it's lovely this time of year," she said sarcastically.

But his eyes didn't change one bit. They didn't fill with his cold-burning anger, or the complacent gaze he perfected. No, they were still filled with nothing but dread.

"Nobody goes there, Syndranel. Whatever old knowledge you think you possess; you must not go there. This place only brings death, nothing more," he insisted.

Syn merely shook her head and refused him an answer.

"Please make me understand what has happened to you," he said, before adding. "Let me help you."

Of all the words he could have chosen, these must have been the ones which could enrage Syn the most.

"Help me? Since when was 'helping me' of any importance to you?" she spat.

"I see you still hold grievances," he said while taking his eyes away at last. "I made mistakes. But I supported you the best I could after Myr-."

"Don't you dare to say her name," Syn said, stressing every word more than the one that came before. "You have no right to say her name. Not you."

Syn felt rage building within her, making her stomach feel like it was set ablaze and her heart trying to burst out her chest.

"I supported you... after her," he corrected himself.

"Now I'm curious. Please remind me, dear father," she said, her hands clenched to fists. "Where should I have felt your precious support?"

Jhaeros looked uncomfortable, nervously rubbing his hands barely able to look at Syn.

"You would've been imprisoned ... or worse. Without my doing, you would have been judged like any other human. The punishment for stealing our books is severe. You know that."

"Stealing? I always returned what I borrowed. Besides, if your peers wouldn't have seen me beneath them, I wouldn't have resorted to such measures in the first place," Syn hissed. "I was born with the same right to my people's knowledge as any of you. Earned it just as much. If anything, I know more than most of these senile old fucks who shiver at the thought of a half-breed merely breathing the same air as them. You know that."

"I do," he said with a faint, but proud smile on his lips. "But these are the rules of our people. Rules we all must abide by."

"Or hide behind," Syn said, her eyes narrowed to slits. "They were always your excuse of choice. Even before you wore those expensive rings, those fine clothes. I always knew that nothing would change once everyone had to bow before you."

Jhaeros took a deep breath.

"Is that why you hate me so?" he asked.

Syn's nails dug into her palms and her stocky legs tensed with strength as she shot up as high as her cuffs allowed.

She couldn't rise to her full height, but for the first time in her life, did the unsightly, uncouth daughter stand taller than the gifted, oh so perfect father. Realising that emboldened Syn only further.

"You know exactly why," Syn said in a tone that made him shiver. "You abandoned her when she needed you."

"I sent her the best physicians. I was told... that was all I could do for her."

"She didn't need any physicians who barely looked at her! You should have been there!" Syn shouted at him, making his eyes go wide in shock for the first time ever. "You should have been there holding her hand when it happened. With me. But look at you. Guess you made the right choice. Lord Protector of Knowledge."

"I loved her," he said after some thought. "I wish it wouldn't have come to this, but I want you to know I left with your mother's blessing. And with the promise I would always look after you... whatever happened."

"Is that what you tell yourself to find rest at night?" Syn hissed. "I hope it doesn't work. I hope, deep down, you come to know that her blood is also on your hands."

How many times did Syn rehearse that confrontation in her head? Word by word, enriched by all the anger that she knew burnt underneath her skin begging to come to the surface one final time. She dreamed about that moment for years, yet she came to feel almost pity in seeing her father like this.

He stood frozen, almost like he stopped breathing as well. His sunk-in face almost seemed to grow paler during their argument and despite his mastery in hiding his emotions, he couldn't hide his ... pain?

"I gave her my word," he eventually said, more to himself than to Syn. "And I will honour that promise."

Jhaeros turned to face his much bigger daughter, his determination challenging hers now. Syn immediately knew what he was proposing.

"You can't keep us here forever," she said.

"Us? I have no obligations to the human... and that thing," he grimaced. "They forfeited their life the moment they set foot onto these lands. But you belong here."

Syn felt the blood in her veins run cold, her senses sharpened while her muscles clenched with eternal fury.

"You really think you still hold power over me?"

Syn pushed her face as close towards his as she physically could, mere inches away from the bars that stood between them.

"Nothing in this world will hold me in this rotten place for another day. I would rather die a thousand deaths than seeing the sun rise one more time from behind these cursed walls."

Jhaeros still stood firm, befitting his title.

"You have no idea what you're saying. But you'll come to your senses. Given enough time."

"By taking my friends away from me? By chaining me into the dungeon until I call you father again? You fail to understand, I will always reject everything you are and everything you offer," Syn whispered, yet her words rang loud and powerful. "You better wish the executioner earns three coins tomorrow, because if you keep me here, I swear to you, on my mother's memory, I will burn this fucking place to the ground. To the last stone, with everything you hold so dear. Father."

Jhaeros' face was like ice, but his hands shivered until he hid them in his sleeves. No words escaped him. Not while seeing the pure hatred the towering woman before him burnt with. No longer his daughter, but his enemy.

He slowly stumbled back and rubbed his clean-shaven chin, whispering to himself. He peered at her multiple times, with no word of his reaching Syn's half-bred ears. Still, he never stopped talking to himself, like he was always prone to doing when too many thoughts came to him at once. And eventually a solution.

"I see you have chosen," he said after some pause and looked up at Syn with an expression she never remembered him wearing.

Syn braced herself for his retort, for giving a battle lost was nothing he once lowered himself to in all her lifetime. Until today.

"Farewell, Syndranel."

Syn frowned and watched her father simply walk away in a hurry until he closed the creaking metal door behind him in eery silence.

Until the lock clicked into place, she was utterly convinced he'd turn around, reveal the reason behind his theatrics. Knowing he always hid some deeper meaning in between his words she expected some new trickery. But simply leaving in shame? A broken man? That was unlike anyone so unrelenting in his own stubbornness. Maybe she could no longer read him like she thought herself capable of.

Just as likely, she might have failed to see what changed in him over the years. Either by how much his heart further turned into stone or by how it thawed from the cold that Syn remembered. Both scenarios were equally terrifying.

For opposite reasons though.

"That didn't sound good," Lyanne said first.

"No... it didn't," Syn answered.

"And? What is 'Fancy hair' saying?" Fel asked.

"Too much, and still too little," Syn said, still watching the door, still smitten with confusion and doubts.

"He is your father. Isn't he?" Lyanne said.

"See, you do understand elvish," the half-elf sighed. "How much did you get?"

"Barely anything," the human muttered. "Only something about an executioner."

"Ah that," Syn grinned weakly. "Let's say none of us shall expect mercy."

"Oh. Guessed so."

"Hold on, that skinny guy was your father?" Fel jumped in with her high pitched, curious voice.

"Sadly, there is no way to change that," Syn answered. "Why?"

"Your mother must be really beautiful then."

That sort of praise should have earned a smile that would last. But Syn's smirk disappeared as fast as it arose.

"She was," she whispered to herself and turned to the gate like if it owed her answers. "In many ways."

Syn returned to Yarathrond only because she deemed herself armed with all the knowledge, all the trickery she needed. But sitting here, staring at that cursed metal door, that illusion laid shattered before her.

Growing up the way she did she learnt from a young age to rely on her instincts. Often, they were the only thing she could put any faith into.

They served her well, until tonight.

Had her judgement gotten so much worse, that she always had to end up here -- where it all began? Contemplating the full extent by how much she misjudged the situation Syn wondered one more thing.

Since she was already wrong about everything, was it foolish to assume she might also have been wrong about... him?

At least there was time until sunrise to make peace with that question, she thought.