Hounded

Oh, certainly, « I gushed. Making tea for the goddess of fire was so much better than being summarily incinerated by the goddess of fire.
    › Can I say hello to her? ‹ Oberon asked meekly.
    Let me check , I told him. » My wolfhound would like to greet you, Brighid. Would that be acceptable to you as I brew your tea? «
    » You have a hound here? Where is he? «
    I dispelled Oberon’s camouflage and told him to mind his manners. He trotted into view and padded up to Brighid with his tail wagging like a metronome set to something allegro. She had seated herself at one of my tables, and she smiled at his enthusiasm.
    » My, you are impressive. Can you speak? « She was binding her consciousness to his so that she’d be able to hear his answer.
    › Yes, Atticus taught me. My name is Oberon. Nice to meet you, Brighid. ‹
    » And it’s nice to meet you, Oberon, Shakespeare’s King of the Fae. « She smiled, scratching him behind the ears with a gauntleted hand. » Who is Atticus? «
    » That would be me, « I admitted.
    » Oh? Nobody told me you were using a new name. They always use your proper name when they speak of you in Tír na nÓg. I suppose you must make interesting choices, living amongst the mortals as you do. But you, « she said to Oberon, cupping her hand underneath his jaw, » I hear you killed a man. Is that true? «
    I had been measuring loose-leaf tea into sachets as the water boiled, but at this I looked up sharply. Oberon’s tail stopped wagging and dropped between his legs. He sat down and whined. › Yes. I didn’t mean to. Flidais commanded me and I had to obey. ‹
    » Yes, I know. I don’t blame you, Oberon. In a way, it was my fault. I sent Flidais to see your master. «
    Gods Below! If she kept dropping bombs like that, I’d have to be very careful when handling the boiling water.
    » Things didn’t go the way I planned at all, « she added. She began removing her steel gauntlets to pet him better. They clanked noisily on the table, and the magic in them was palpable. The armor of a forge goddess would be sans pareil —I wondered what it would take to even scratch it. Like, Fragarach, maybe? » And now things have gotten to the point where I need to get directly involved. «
    › Can you make the cops forget about me? ‹ Oberon asked hopefully.
    » I might be able to in normal circumstances. Unfortunately, someone is trying very hard to make sure that they don’t forget about you. «
    » Wait, please, don’t say anything else, « I said. » Let me just pour this water and sit down, then we can talk. «
    » Very well. Would you like a belly rub while we wait, Oberon? «
    › Oh, I like you a lot, ‹ Oberon said, and he flopped down happily at her feet, his tail swishing across the floor.
    Trivia: Brighid takes milk and honey in her tea. Just like me.
    » Thank you, « she said, before taking a sip and sighing appreciatively.
    » Most welcome, « I replied, and sat down and took a moment to savor the surrealism. I was having tea with Brighid, a goddess I’d worshipped since childhood, in a city that didn’t exist when I was a child. And my wolfhound was joining us—I had made him a cup and cooled it down with ice, and he was now lapping it up from a dish on the floor.
    Brighid appreciated it too, for she smiled and said, » This is very strange. «
    » I like strange things, « I said. » At least the non-threatening kind of strange. «
    » Yes. Unfortunately, there has been plenty of the threatening kind of strange going on lately. You deserve an explanation, I think. «
    » That would be lovely, « I allowed.
    » Here, then, is the short version: My brother Aenghus Óg is moving against me. He seeks to supplant me as supreme amongst the Tuatha Dé Danann, but I suspect this is only a stepping-stone to something larger. To that end, whatever it may be, he has been collecting all the enchanted weapons and armor he can. He even got my fool of a husband to ask me to make a set of armor that would stop the blade of Fragarach. Not asking him why, I made some ridiculous-looking stuff and told him it would make him invincible. He promptly put it on and got himself killed, so well done, Druid. «
    » Um … « I didn’t know what to say.
    » I would have had to kill him myself if things had gone much farther. As it is, I would still like to avoid direct conflict with Aenghus Óg if I can. Descending to the level of battle is … distasteful, especially with one’s own brother.