Aztryd eyes Fafnir warily, making no move to take his offered hand. "Alas, it might be difficult for me to accompany you, just now. Little Nizl has finally fallen asleep, and I would hate to wake her." She clings protectively to Nizl, sleeping contentedly under her cloak. "I doubt Elwing will give you any trouble -- yes, Elwing is her name. And I am sure your voice is honey enough for two."
The sound of voices so nearby reaches Eilif even through the fogs of sleep. Groggily she blinks and moves to look around her, flinching as she unwarily shifts her injured arm. She has fallen asleep over supper, she realizes, for the meal is now over. Thanking the Maker for small mercies, she turns quietly to listen to the others. What has she missed, she wonders.
For a moment Fafnir's hand remains outstretched, and he tilts his head a little to one side at her words. His gaze flits around the room, resting on no one person, taking in the reaction of each seated at the table. Lowering his hand, he forces a smile upon his face and a false nonchalance in his voice. "Ah, so kind of you to say so, about my voice," he answers, taking a side step away from Aztryd. "I don't think anyone has ever considered my voice sweet enough to charm an elf. But," and he pauses here, "of course, there is the dear sweet child to consider. She has already been through so much." He gives an heavy emphasis to the word, "So." He claps a hand on the Elder's back. "Right, well, pardon me all, I have an elf to fetch." He turns and says over his shoulder. "Elwing, you say? Odd name...sounds like a soup." He walks out the kitchen, whistling tunelessly.
Nasi does not lift his eyes from the fire as he coughs to clear his throat and draw attention to himself before he speaks up. "You cannot trust elves you know. No matter what some say. Mayhap it would be wise if I were to accompany you? Just.. just to be sure." His dark cheeks flush as when there is no reply, and he glances up to see Fafnir's retreating back as he disappears through the door. He had not heard Fafnir's soft footsteps as he walked off over the crackling of the fire. Ducking his head shyly, he turns his gaze back to the fire.
Adelsteinn looks after Fafnir as he departs and nods approvingly. He hears Nasi's words about not trusting elves and replies, "Not all elves can be trusted, Nasi, but this elf trusted in Aztryd to bring her here, so I suspect Fafnir will be fine." He takes a drink of ale.
Hjalmarr notices Eilif stir beside him, but decides not to mention it. He will claim she was awake the whole time if anyone asks; after all, he fell asleep too! "And what," he says to Adelsteinn over the rim of his mug, "shall we do with an elf if we fetch her?"
Eilif's dark eyes rest on Nasi as he stands by the fire. He is still just a blur to her, but she knows by his voice that it is he who stands there. She lifts her good hand and plays with the braid of her beard thoughtfully, a small smile playing around her lips. "So that is the way of it?" she thinks and smiles a little more. Well, good luck to him. There was little enough cause to smile in these dark days.
The corridor was built, like everything his people build: larger...larger than they are, larger than their lives, larger than their dreams. It is as though his people compensated for their small views by their elaborate, soaring, and huge creations. He stumbles as his foot strikes a rock, and he bites off a curse. This is the corridor they use now, for foraging forays and to continue the search for other survivors, so the floor has been cleared of most of the large debris,in case they should have to retreat speedily back into the kitchen. In case, and Fafnir's eyes cannot help but travel up the far wall of the corridor and fasten upon the soot stains and blackened stones..in case it came back.
Aztryd settle Nizl comfortably on her lap again, and lifts her mug to her lips. She watches the Elder -- Adelsteinn is his name -- carefully. He sounds like he intends to treat Elwing fairly, but still, Elwing is an elf among a group of dwarves -- and dwarves whose patience has been sorely tried -- and Aztryd feels a responsibility toward the elf who has been like a clan-sister to her.
Nasi glances at the small group seated at the table as he hears the Elder's words. That Adalstienn disagrees with him does not bother him. He shrugs a little. What the Elder thought of elves was none of his business, really. He notices Eilif's small smile, and he smiles a little in return. That one had fought valiantly to save lives during the attack and paid for it dearly. Raising his voice to carry, he turns from the fire and walks over to her, glancing warily at their visitor as he does so. "How is that arm of yours, Eilif? Have you had it looked at today?"
His eyes linger upon the charred and blackened spots for a few moments more, and then he starts off again, hands on his belt. Fafnir thinks back to Aztryd's answer, his lips curling as he does. "Now," he says aloud and looks over at the near wall, where his shadow, cast by the dim light of torches set periodically into set hooks in the wall, looks back at him. "Now, she feels the need to tend the wee one. Never mind that she left the child stewing its own offal while she bandied words with us all." He feels his temper rise a little, and gives his head a shake. "What unnatural natural response," he turns his head again, and stops, regarding his shadow. "But she sees what they all see, doesn't she? All prim and proper, but hardly respected. Why, she is no better than a runaway wife, and we should send her back to him, with a note. 'Keep better track of your wife, good dwarf.'"
But then the words of Aztryd, when she told them of how her husband was, how even the babe was not safe, comes back to him, and he feels his temper seep out of him, like warmth from the stone walls nearer the surface, after the sun has gone down. So he puts the dregs of his anger behind him, on the floor of the corridor and turns into the room, where the elf is supposed to be.
Adelsteinn turns to Hjalmarr. "I am requesting the elf come and join in our discussion." He actually wants the elf to validate Aztryd's tale before he reveals he saw the giant swan outside earlier today. "Have a care when the elf come:, remember we share mutual peace with the elves of the Havens. This elf helped one of our kind."He nods to Aztryd, seeming to notice her gaze. "Now everyone have an ale. it will help the supper settle and also help our wits."
Fafnir pulls up short at the doorway and looks about the room. There, in one corner, is a cot of sorts, and he walks over to it, reaching down. The mattress bears the curved impression of a body, still warm to the touch even. He wheels about and rushes, feet pounding up the corridor to where it leads to the surface. She has to have gone this way, unless the elf is a simpleton and is lost below. But, no, elves have some sense of direction, if nothing else, Legs pumping, he runs as fast as he can.
Eilif feels her cheeks warm at Nasi's approach. She was unused to any fussing over her. Now, rather than be enthralled in their visitor as everyone else was, here was the handsome stone mason asking after her wounds. For a moment the brusque, stoic weapon smith blushes like any shy maiden. "You are kind to ask, Nasi," she murmurs softly, "But they will heal or not. Fussing over them will help little."
Fafnir bursts out of the ruined and charred entrance into the settlement, into a night filled with stars and icy wind. Panting for breath, he looks wildly about him, expecting to see...something, anything. Gasping for air, sucking down lungful after lungful of cold night wind, he leans over and puts his hands on his knees, his chest tight, heart pounding. He's alone, outside alone. He does not know his body is starting to shiver. After a few moments, when his chest starts to loosen, and his breathing to slow down, he straightens up and looks after the only path leading down from the settlement. "I would you have taken me, " he whispers, and then he turns, and, wrapping his arms around him, he makes his way back inside.
Hjalmarr can't help but smile at the wee one dozing on Aztryd's lap. It is good to be reminded of children, the hope for the future, at times like this when there has been so much devastation. Though to what world young Nizl will wake, he cannot say. He nods at the Elder. "Aye, it would be wise to hear the Elf out before we do aught regarding her tale. Though I hope someone can explain about the dragons!"
Nasi clicks his tongue and gently reaches out to turn her a little where she sits so he can examine her injuries. "Aye, but should it heal, we would like it to heal straight and true for we will have need of your skills in the future, methinks." He nods as he sees the bindings on her arm are secure and then puts a hand under her chin so he can turn her face to the light. His eyes roam over the wound on her face, and he gives a small nod again before he speaks. "It is healing clean, at least. There is no infection so the scarring will be minimal" He lowers his voice a little before he continues. "Your vision, it will heal too, I am sure of it. I.. I am no physician, but I have seen this before with head wounds, when a worker has been struck by some stone or rubble. It will heal." He glances to the door through which Fafnir had departed. What was taking him so long?
Eilif frowns a little at the others words of reassurance. How did he know that it was the vision problems that were worrying her the most? At this close range though, she sees him clearly and notices his anxious glance at the door. "He will be back." she whispers softly and then to cover her moment of gentleness, her voice takes on more of her usual gruff tones as she turns and answers the one seated next to her. "What more do you need to know of dragons, old one? They kill and destroy mindlessly. Take a walk through our once fair city, and you will learn all you need to know about dragons."
It is a cold Fafnir, a sedate and almost pensive Fafnir, who rejoins the rest of the survivors in the kitchen. In his left hand was clenched a scrap of paper, found in the room where the elf had been kept. It was after he came back inside, that he thought of all the possible places this elf could have wandered off to, but when he returns to the chambers, and she is still not there, he knows his instincts were right. She has left, and all there is in the room to bear witness to her presence is the note in his hand. Silently he crosses over to the elder, not looking at any of them, hands it to Adelstein, and walks over to the large fireplace to warm himself. There is something in the complete disappearance of the elf that opens a little part of Fafnir he keeps even from himself: his ever isolation from all the rest of the dwarves.
> Next
The sound of voices so nearby reaches Eilif even through the fogs of sleep. Groggily she blinks and moves to look around her, flinching as she unwarily shifts her injured arm. She has fallen asleep over supper, she realizes, for the meal is now over. Thanking the Maker for small mercies, she turns quietly to listen to the others. What has she missed, she wonders.
For a moment Fafnir's hand remains outstretched, and he tilts his head a little to one side at her words. His gaze flits around the room, resting on no one person, taking in the reaction of each seated at the table. Lowering his hand, he forces a smile upon his face and a false nonchalance in his voice. "Ah, so kind of you to say so, about my voice," he answers, taking a side step away from Aztryd. "I don't think anyone has ever considered my voice sweet enough to charm an elf. But," and he pauses here, "of course, there is the dear sweet child to consider. She has already been through so much." He gives an heavy emphasis to the word, "So." He claps a hand on the Elder's back. "Right, well, pardon me all, I have an elf to fetch." He turns and says over his shoulder. "Elwing, you say? Odd name...sounds like a soup." He walks out the kitchen, whistling tunelessly.
Nasi does not lift his eyes from the fire as he coughs to clear his throat and draw attention to himself before he speaks up. "You cannot trust elves you know. No matter what some say. Mayhap it would be wise if I were to accompany you? Just.. just to be sure." His dark cheeks flush as when there is no reply, and he glances up to see Fafnir's retreating back as he disappears through the door. He had not heard Fafnir's soft footsteps as he walked off over the crackling of the fire. Ducking his head shyly, he turns his gaze back to the fire.
Adelsteinn looks after Fafnir as he departs and nods approvingly. He hears Nasi's words about not trusting elves and replies, "Not all elves can be trusted, Nasi, but this elf trusted in Aztryd to bring her here, so I suspect Fafnir will be fine." He takes a drink of ale.
Hjalmarr notices Eilif stir beside him, but decides not to mention it. He will claim she was awake the whole time if anyone asks; after all, he fell asleep too! "And what," he says to Adelsteinn over the rim of his mug, "shall we do with an elf if we fetch her?"
Eilif's dark eyes rest on Nasi as he stands by the fire. He is still just a blur to her, but she knows by his voice that it is he who stands there. She lifts her good hand and plays with the braid of her beard thoughtfully, a small smile playing around her lips. "So that is the way of it?" she thinks and smiles a little more. Well, good luck to him. There was little enough cause to smile in these dark days.
The corridor was built, like everything his people build: larger...larger than they are, larger than their lives, larger than their dreams. It is as though his people compensated for their small views by their elaborate, soaring, and huge creations. He stumbles as his foot strikes a rock, and he bites off a curse. This is the corridor they use now, for foraging forays and to continue the search for other survivors, so the floor has been cleared of most of the large debris,in case they should have to retreat speedily back into the kitchen. In case, and Fafnir's eyes cannot help but travel up the far wall of the corridor and fasten upon the soot stains and blackened stones..in case it came back.
Aztryd settle Nizl comfortably on her lap again, and lifts her mug to her lips. She watches the Elder -- Adelsteinn is his name -- carefully. He sounds like he intends to treat Elwing fairly, but still, Elwing is an elf among a group of dwarves -- and dwarves whose patience has been sorely tried -- and Aztryd feels a responsibility toward the elf who has been like a clan-sister to her.
Nasi glances at the small group seated at the table as he hears the Elder's words. That Adalstienn disagrees with him does not bother him. He shrugs a little. What the Elder thought of elves was none of his business, really. He notices Eilif's small smile, and he smiles a little in return. That one had fought valiantly to save lives during the attack and paid for it dearly. Raising his voice to carry, he turns from the fire and walks over to her, glancing warily at their visitor as he does so. "How is that arm of yours, Eilif? Have you had it looked at today?"
His eyes linger upon the charred and blackened spots for a few moments more, and then he starts off again, hands on his belt. Fafnir thinks back to Aztryd's answer, his lips curling as he does. "Now," he says aloud and looks over at the near wall, where his shadow, cast by the dim light of torches set periodically into set hooks in the wall, looks back at him. "Now, she feels the need to tend the wee one. Never mind that she left the child stewing its own offal while she bandied words with us all." He feels his temper rise a little, and gives his head a shake. "What unnatural natural response," he turns his head again, and stops, regarding his shadow. "But she sees what they all see, doesn't she? All prim and proper, but hardly respected. Why, she is no better than a runaway wife, and we should send her back to him, with a note. 'Keep better track of your wife, good dwarf.'"
But then the words of Aztryd, when she told them of how her husband was, how even the babe was not safe, comes back to him, and he feels his temper seep out of him, like warmth from the stone walls nearer the surface, after the sun has gone down. So he puts the dregs of his anger behind him, on the floor of the corridor and turns into the room, where the elf is supposed to be.
Adelsteinn turns to Hjalmarr. "I am requesting the elf come and join in our discussion." He actually wants the elf to validate Aztryd's tale before he reveals he saw the giant swan outside earlier today. "Have a care when the elf come:, remember we share mutual peace with the elves of the Havens. This elf helped one of our kind."He nods to Aztryd, seeming to notice her gaze. "Now everyone have an ale. it will help the supper settle and also help our wits."
Fafnir pulls up short at the doorway and looks about the room. There, in one corner, is a cot of sorts, and he walks over to it, reaching down. The mattress bears the curved impression of a body, still warm to the touch even. He wheels about and rushes, feet pounding up the corridor to where it leads to the surface. She has to have gone this way, unless the elf is a simpleton and is lost below. But, no, elves have some sense of direction, if nothing else, Legs pumping, he runs as fast as he can.
Eilif feels her cheeks warm at Nasi's approach. She was unused to any fussing over her. Now, rather than be enthralled in their visitor as everyone else was, here was the handsome stone mason asking after her wounds. For a moment the brusque, stoic weapon smith blushes like any shy maiden. "You are kind to ask, Nasi," she murmurs softly, "But they will heal or not. Fussing over them will help little."
Fafnir bursts out of the ruined and charred entrance into the settlement, into a night filled with stars and icy wind. Panting for breath, he looks wildly about him, expecting to see...something, anything. Gasping for air, sucking down lungful after lungful of cold night wind, he leans over and puts his hands on his knees, his chest tight, heart pounding. He's alone, outside alone. He does not know his body is starting to shiver. After a few moments, when his chest starts to loosen, and his breathing to slow down, he straightens up and looks after the only path leading down from the settlement. "I would you have taken me, " he whispers, and then he turns, and, wrapping his arms around him, he makes his way back inside.
Hjalmarr can't help but smile at the wee one dozing on Aztryd's lap. It is good to be reminded of children, the hope for the future, at times like this when there has been so much devastation. Though to what world young Nizl will wake, he cannot say. He nods at the Elder. "Aye, it would be wise to hear the Elf out before we do aught regarding her tale. Though I hope someone can explain about the dragons!"
Nasi clicks his tongue and gently reaches out to turn her a little where she sits so he can examine her injuries. "Aye, but should it heal, we would like it to heal straight and true for we will have need of your skills in the future, methinks." He nods as he sees the bindings on her arm are secure and then puts a hand under her chin so he can turn her face to the light. His eyes roam over the wound on her face, and he gives a small nod again before he speaks. "It is healing clean, at least. There is no infection so the scarring will be minimal" He lowers his voice a little before he continues. "Your vision, it will heal too, I am sure of it. I.. I am no physician, but I have seen this before with head wounds, when a worker has been struck by some stone or rubble. It will heal." He glances to the door through which Fafnir had departed. What was taking him so long?Eilif frowns a little at the others words of reassurance. How did he know that it was the vision problems that were worrying her the most? At this close range though, she sees him clearly and notices his anxious glance at the door. "He will be back." she whispers softly and then to cover her moment of gentleness, her voice takes on more of her usual gruff tones as she turns and answers the one seated next to her. "What more do you need to know of dragons, old one? They kill and destroy mindlessly. Take a walk through our once fair city, and you will learn all you need to know about dragons."
It is a cold Fafnir, a sedate and almost pensive Fafnir, who rejoins the rest of the survivors in the kitchen. In his left hand was clenched a scrap of paper, found in the room where the elf had been kept. It was after he came back inside, that he thought of all the possible places this elf could have wandered off to, but when he returns to the chambers, and she is still not there, he knows his instincts were right. She has left, and all there is in the room to bear witness to her presence is the note in his hand. Silently he crosses over to the elder, not looking at any of them, hands it to Adelstein, and walks over to the large fireplace to warm himself. There is something in the complete disappearance of the elf that opens a little part of Fafnir he keeps even from himself: his ever isolation from all the rest of the dwarves.
> Next