Shawn Daysleeper and Belenos
The fire crackles softly as it casts flickering shadows on the old stone walls. The sound of the fire and the sound of sleeping dwarves are the only familiar sounds to Eilif. The persistent drip where the old thatch of the way station roof leaks into a shallow puddle on the floor shouldn't really bother her, but it does. To Eilif, it shows just how flimsy the protection over their heads really is. No solid depths of stone to keep them safe, no, just a thin thatch of straw and old and rotting straw at that.
She turns her head at a soft scurrying outside the door. In the darkness beyond the sturdy oak door the night seems alive in a way it had never done in the silent depths of Gamilfûn. Drawing her short cape closer around her shoulders, she shivers a little and turns back to the fire. Even now, at the end of just one day's journey from their devastated home, everything seems so strange. Too strange for her to sleep, despite the demands of their day.
She had been relieved to see the hunters waiting at the way station as the weary travelers had arrived, busy butchering the stag they had brought down earlier. Away from the pervading smell of death that had seemed to seep into the very stones of Gamilfûn, even Eilif had brought herself to eat some of the haunch of venison the others had so joyfully roasted over the fire. She had thought the exertions of the day, combined with a hot meal, washing the mud from the day away with some clean water from the well, and some fresh clothes would have seen her sleeping long ago, but it seems it is not to be. With a weary sigh, she settles back to staring at the flames.
Adelsteinn wakes during the night and feels a throbbing headache. He is unable to sleep this night, and everywhere he turns there is not a comfortable way to lie, it seems. The dampness and smell of the straw itches his nose. He also has not had any ale for over a day now, and he is beginning to miss the way it has always soothed him. Turning more he tries to get comfortable and sighs with frustration. He then sees Eilif sitting alone by the fire. With a grunt he gets up and walks over to join her.
Eilif glances up as she hears movement behind her and sees the Elder rising from his bedroll. She waits until he joins her by the fire's warmth and gives him a rueful smile, "Your bed is no more comfortable than mine Elder, it seems." She draws the rough stool she is sitting on a little to the side to make room for him in front of the fire.
Adelsteinn sits down on the other stool near the fire and nods to her. "Yes, but I am also worrying about our people. I hope we are making the right decision." He looks into the fire. "Olwe and elves. All we have to go on in this endeavor is what Aztryd has shared. How do you feel about elves?"
Eilif looks up at the Elder as he stares into the fire. What must it be like for him, she wonders, to be the one responsible for their small group in such a crisis? The flames trace shadows into the fine lines that crease his brow, lines that had only appeared recently. She pokes at a log with the toe of her boot as she ponders her answer, sending a shower of sparks cascading up the old stone chimney as the log slides deeper into the fire.
She glances over to where Aztryd sleeps next to her babe, and she frowns thoughtfully before she answers, her voice kept low so as not to disturb the sleep of the others. "I trust them not, Elder." She lifts her gaze to his as she continues. "I know yon little mother sings the praises of this Olwe to the treetops, but.. but what reason have we to trust him? My own father lost his life because of the perfidy of an elf. I have never trusted the honesty of those who trade at Gray Havens. Nor is there any reason for there to be any love between the Children of Eru and the Children of Mahal. I.. I trust them not."
Adelsteinn sighs at Eilif's words. "I did not know of your father's fate. You have my sincere sympathy. This must be very emotional to go seek help from the Children of Eru. I confess I have my own reservations about what we must do. But I cannot see any other choice we might have. We all agree this is the best course of action. Though it weighs on me as elder to see to the survival of our clan. I never expected this when I became elder."
Eilif lets her gaze stray to the sleeping forms nearby. So pitifully few of the dwarves of Gamilfûn remain of what was once a thriving and growing community. "Our clan," Adelstienn had called them, and they were. Ragtag, footsore, homeless and more than a little uncertain of their future, but still, they were her people, his people. They belonged together. He is right. They have no other choice. What else can they do? It would take all they had to get enough supplies to travel to another Dwarven settlement. They truly would arrive as penniless beggars, and this was something Eilif knew none of them would stomach.
"None of us expected this," she murmurs softly, her eyes leaving the sleepers and roaming around the derelict way station and finally coming to rest on the Elder. Eilif can see the deep concerns he carried reflected in the blue depths of his eyes. His is a heavy responsibility, and he needs not for her personal worries to be piled onto those he already carries.
She rises to her feet and looks deep into his eyes before she continues to speak. "But this has happened, and deal with it we must. So let us deal with it." She casts a glance again around their rough accommodation. "Few enough of us have survived, but we HAVE survived, and we shall continue to survive. I trust not the elves, Elder, but we shall survive them, for we have survived a dragon. What are a few sly elves compared to that? And we have you to lead us." She nudges him encouragingly with her shoulder. "Come, let us get some rest, for tomorrow our journey continues, and when it ends, there may be elves, but there will also be soft beds, hearty meals and perhaps a decent ale to be found."
She carefully makes her way to her bedroll and settles herself as best as she can, tucking her blanket tight about her. She tries to still her thoughts in preparation for sleep but her words play through her mind in a silent refrain: "I trust them not."
> Next
She turns her head at a soft scurrying outside the door. In the darkness beyond the sturdy oak door the night seems alive in a way it had never done in the silent depths of Gamilfûn. Drawing her short cape closer around her shoulders, she shivers a little and turns back to the fire. Even now, at the end of just one day's journey from their devastated home, everything seems so strange. Too strange for her to sleep, despite the demands of their day. She had been relieved to see the hunters waiting at the way station as the weary travelers had arrived, busy butchering the stag they had brought down earlier. Away from the pervading smell of death that had seemed to seep into the very stones of Gamilfûn, even Eilif had brought herself to eat some of the haunch of venison the others had so joyfully roasted over the fire. She had thought the exertions of the day, combined with a hot meal, washing the mud from the day away with some clean water from the well, and some fresh clothes would have seen her sleeping long ago, but it seems it is not to be. With a weary sigh, she settles back to staring at the flames.
Adelsteinn wakes during the night and feels a throbbing headache. He is unable to sleep this night, and everywhere he turns there is not a comfortable way to lie, it seems. The dampness and smell of the straw itches his nose. He also has not had any ale for over a day now, and he is beginning to miss the way it has always soothed him. Turning more he tries to get comfortable and sighs with frustration. He then sees Eilif sitting alone by the fire. With a grunt he gets up and walks over to join her.
Eilif glances up as she hears movement behind her and sees the Elder rising from his bedroll. She waits until he joins her by the fire's warmth and gives him a rueful smile, "Your bed is no more comfortable than mine Elder, it seems." She draws the rough stool she is sitting on a little to the side to make room for him in front of the fire. Adelsteinn sits down on the other stool near the fire and nods to her. "Yes, but I am also worrying about our people. I hope we are making the right decision." He looks into the fire. "Olwe and elves. All we have to go on in this endeavor is what Aztryd has shared. How do you feel about elves?"
Eilif looks up at the Elder as he stares into the fire. What must it be like for him, she wonders, to be the one responsible for their small group in such a crisis? The flames trace shadows into the fine lines that crease his brow, lines that had only appeared recently. She pokes at a log with the toe of her boot as she ponders her answer, sending a shower of sparks cascading up the old stone chimney as the log slides deeper into the fire.
She glances over to where Aztryd sleeps next to her babe, and she frowns thoughtfully before she answers, her voice kept low so as not to disturb the sleep of the others. "I trust them not, Elder." She lifts her gaze to his as she continues. "I know yon little mother sings the praises of this Olwe to the treetops, but.. but what reason have we to trust him? My own father lost his life because of the perfidy of an elf. I have never trusted the honesty of those who trade at Gray Havens. Nor is there any reason for there to be any love between the Children of Eru and the Children of Mahal. I.. I trust them not."
Adelsteinn sighs at Eilif's words. "I did not know of your father's fate. You have my sincere sympathy. This must be very emotional to go seek help from the Children of Eru. I confess I have my own reservations about what we must do. But I cannot see any other choice we might have. We all agree this is the best course of action. Though it weighs on me as elder to see to the survival of our clan. I never expected this when I became elder."
Eilif lets her gaze stray to the sleeping forms nearby. So pitifully few of the dwarves of Gamilfûn remain of what was once a thriving and growing community. "Our clan," Adelstienn had called them, and they were. Ragtag, footsore, homeless and more than a little uncertain of their future, but still, they were her people, his people. They belonged together. He is right. They have no other choice. What else can they do? It would take all they had to get enough supplies to travel to another Dwarven settlement. They truly would arrive as penniless beggars, and this was something Eilif knew none of them would stomach.
"None of us expected this," she murmurs softly, her eyes leaving the sleepers and roaming around the derelict way station and finally coming to rest on the Elder. Eilif can see the deep concerns he carried reflected in the blue depths of his eyes. His is a heavy responsibility, and he needs not for her personal worries to be piled onto those he already carries. She rises to her feet and looks deep into his eyes before she continues to speak. "But this has happened, and deal with it we must. So let us deal with it." She casts a glance again around their rough accommodation. "Few enough of us have survived, but we HAVE survived, and we shall continue to survive. I trust not the elves, Elder, but we shall survive them, for we have survived a dragon. What are a few sly elves compared to that? And we have you to lead us." She nudges him encouragingly with her shoulder. "Come, let us get some rest, for tomorrow our journey continues, and when it ends, there may be elves, but there will also be soft beds, hearty meals and perhaps a decent ale to be found."
She carefully makes her way to her bedroll and settles herself as best as she can, tucking her blanket tight about her. She tries to still her thoughts in preparation for sleep but her words play through her mind in a silent refrain: "I trust them not."
> Next