Eilif tugs the hood of her cloak a little further forward as they pass under the arched entrance to Mithlond at last. For some time now the road beneath their feet has been well cared for and cobbled. There are no more deep ruts and muddy washouts to traverse. Her nostrils had flared at the sharp salty tang on the breeze that told them how close they were at last to their final destination. That breeze had brought other smells as they drew closer to the city, few clearly identifiable, but all smells that spoke of a the life of a port city.
Eilif had seen glimpses of soft grey stonework as the road wound though the trees of the foothill forests. So much had warred inside her at those glimpses. Acutely aware of her facial injury she had drawn the hood of her traveling cloak up, and pulled it low over her face. At the mid-day meal, she had quietly unwrapped the item she'd carried all this time in the bedroll she had, until this day, carried on her back. Now the ornate and finely crafted sword gives her some comfort as it bumps lightly against her thigh as she walks next to Adelstienn while he leads them into the city.
Adelsteinn leads the group down the main lane of the city towards the park at it's center. From there, it is a short distance towards the harbour to the Green Leaf Inn and pub, a relatively safe place for the dwarves to stay in this elven hold. Additionally, the Green Leaf affords a clear view of the Gulf of Lhûn and beyond that the Great Sea, from where he expects this .. Olwe-- to come. He has been here before and looks around warily into the darker alleys between the buildings. While the elves are relatively unobtrusive when he was here before, he keeps his wits up.
Walking beside Eilif, he looks slightly behind, making sure their small troop advances into the city, weary and tired from the long trek down the mountains, which rises menacingly behind them. Mithlond is relatively familiar to him, and he knows the trade houses fair enough, but he never thought he would be here as a refugee from the home of his ancestors. Until recently that home had withstood the ages, but now it lay burned and broken on the mountainside. The fair breeze blows about him, and he turns his thoughts from the mountains and to the task ahead.
Nasi curls his fingers tightly around Fafnir's hand, and a small smile of pleasure plays on his lips that at last he could. Yes, the healing scabs still tug tight across his knuckles but the pain is gone. Eilif had removed the linen bandages the previous night and pronounced him as "healed well enough." The very first thing Nasi had done was clasp Fafnir's hand as tight as he'd truly wanted to do all this time. Now, after one final day's trek, Mithlond lies sprawled before them, cradled like a noisy, fretsome babe in the embrace of the mountains. Adelstienn has spoken to the city watchman at the gates, and the group has been given permission to enter. They are here, at last! "Now I can truly keep him safe," he thinks to himself, glancing at the tall young dwarf walking beside him. Taking a deep breath of the brisk salty air, Nasi smiles a little more. Smiling still felt strange to his lips, but it is a behaviour they are wont to do more and more often lately.
Fafnir squeezes Nasi's hand back, tightly, and walks a little closer beside the stone mason. With his thumb, Fafnir caresses the knuckles and top of the hand he could not touch before, feeling the strength in that hand. As they drew nearer this elven port town, it was the salt smell of the sea that wove through the trees and teased the back of their sweaty necks. Smells reached them: the smell of meat roasting, the smell of hot iron, the smell of fish dead and waiting to be prepared and eaten. Each puff of the wind brought them news of the Grey Havens, which the dwarves call Mithlond.
But nothing prepares Fafnir for the sight of the elven town. The graceful stones arches, with the flowing, flowering script of the elves are everywhere. The wide flat, cobbled streets, clean and maintained stretches out before them and leads past building after building; some looking like homes, others offering wares familiar to the young dwarf, but still others with purposes he cannot guess at. And it is not just the sight or the smells of the city that press down upon Fafnir. It is the sounds. Here, in the open, in a place that stretches out so wide, the sounds of daily living are nearly familiar but yet overwhelming to him. The sounds travel different than in their settlement, carved into the mountain itself. The lilting tongue of elves mingles with the gritty earthy laugh and catch-calls of humans, and both clash with the sounds of trade-- the hammer against an anvil, the hiss of steam, the rattle of wagons, the chatter of customers, and the cries of merchants hawking their wares. He bumps into Nasi occasionally as he looks from one side of the road to the other.
Eilif glances across at the two who walk nearby and is glad her face is hidden by her hood, for it hides the small smile that tugs at her lips. Nasi is never far from Fafnir, and Fafnir is never far from the Elder. Nor in recent days is she. She has gotten to know a little of this seemingly unlikely pair as she has dressed their wounds. Nasi had stubbornly taken over Fafnir's care as soon as his own head had stopped spinning from the knock he had taken, but even in his stubbornness he'd had the good sense to refer to Eilif to make sure he was doing it right. "There is more to these two than most see," she thinks, as she makes her way into the city. Aye, if she must venture again among elves, she is in good company.
Eilif smiles as she notices Fafnir's awe at the city and thinks back to other times she has come to Mithlond. At first her father had left her at home when he had traveled to deal with custom commissioned work, deeming it unfit to take a daughter out among "Outsiders." But once she was apprenticed to him, amid much huffing and snorting about the wrongness of it all, he had finally given in to her pleas to learn all of their business and allowed her to accompany him. After his death, she had made the journey several times, usually accompanied by a band of other merchants with business in the town, for safety's sake, so an elven city was not new to her. "Keep him close, Nasi," she calls out to the stonemason. "We may be out of the wilds, but there are different dangers in a place like this." She glances up at Adelstienn and directs her next comment to him. "You have led us here safely, Elder, but how can Khazad be truly safe in an elven town?"
Adelsteinn is studying the city when Eilif speaks. Looking towards her but speaking loud enough so everyone in their group hears, he answers. "There are dangers everywhere, but I believe we are safer here than in the wilds. But I suggest we do not travel alone. Explore in pairs or more, and return to the Inn by sundown. The Inn is ahead, and if you follow left on the cross street ahead and follow it to the water. The Green Leaf is just on the left there. I have not heard of violence among the elves here, but there are other folk here not as savory as we dwarves. The Inn is respected by Khazad, and we will be welcome there as I have plenty of coin. I will go on ahead and procure us rooms, some dinner and plenty of brew. Perhaps one of you wish to accompany me?"
Nasi's dark eyes are never still. Although a stonemason he has spent much of his free time hunting in the past, and he has learned the art of vigilance. He walks next to Fafnir, outwardly calm, but his eyes take in so much about them. Bread and cheeses, offered temptingly on display, haunches of meats hang so openly, sausages, slaughtered birds; it is all there, just ready for the taking for a few coins. He thinks back to the hardships of Gamilfun since the dragon attacks, and even more the hardships on the road and shakes his head a little at the almost indecent plenitude of food to be had here.
Nasi has been to other cities in his life. Elven, human, dwarven: they all had their own character and feel, but no matter what race may have established them, Nasi had found that it was the waterside cities, the ports, that held the strongest feel of temptation. Wares are displayed alluringly. "Buy me! Buy !" they seemed to shout. Ships road on the waters by the docks. "Come with me! Come with me," they called. Shady characters seem to be drawn to such places. He knows the lures, knows the dangers.
Nasi nods to Eilif and throws her a small grin at her words, even as his eyes spy a forge just ahead of them. Tools! He glances at Eilif again as he hears the Elder speak. He knows she would be drawn to the forge for her own reasons, even as he is. He thinks a moment, and then squeezes Fafnir's hand a little tighter. "Why don't you go on with the Elder, my Heart? I see a forge ahead and mayhap Eilif would like look at the wares with me?" He glances at Eilif to include her in his question. "We will not delay long." He leans a little closer and lowers his voice so only Fafnir hears. "I will not stray from your side for long, but she has been so kind to us, and I know the forge will call to her."
Fafnir whirls to look at Eilif as she admonishes Nasi to look after Fafnir, regarding her thoughtfully, as he considers how to take the jest. Looking past her, at the Elder as he speaks, he considers how, over the past few days, it seemed to him that Eilif and the Master Brewer have grow close, very close. He feels a heaviness in his chest, a squeezing. He likes Eilif. She was tender and compassionate as she tended to Nasi's and his wounds. She is competent and intelligent. She is the closest thing to a friend, other than Nasi, he has. Yet as he looks from Aidelsteinn to her and back, that squeezing, sinking feeling seizes him, and he cannot say why.
He steps a half step forward to, intending to offer to go with Aidelsteinn, but Nasi was quicker. He shifts his gaze to the stonemason - his Nasi-- and is drawn to the bright glint in Nasi's eyes. His voice, as he speaks, carries an excitement to Fafnir, and his lips curve into a smile to see Nasi excited. Of course, he realizes belatedly, Nasi would be excited about seeing what tools of his trade is being offered for sale here, and of what quality. He squeezes Nasi's hand, that simple gesture filling him with a warmth that chases all else away. He nods as Nasi continues to speak, but then Nasi mentions Eilif, and his stomach settles heavily. His eyes glance over at Eilif as Nasi mentions her name, but he gives her a tiny smile, pushing his doubts and musings into a dark corner of his mind until he can better look at them.
He answers Nasi. "She has been kind, my Handsome, " he says, and then leans in and kisses Nasi quickly on the cheek. "You do not stray, Nasi. I know exactly where you are at all times." He places his free hand over his heart. "However, my Handsome, bring the rest of your strong, virile self to the inn in due course, for that body I miss when it is not beside me." He steps forward toward the Elder. " I would be pleased to walk with you, Elder."
