Played by:
Aelkennyr Rhiano
BelenosStormchaser Magic
Rhun Darkmoon
Shawn Daysleeper
Eilif 's eyes narrow, the deep brown darkening almost to chips of dark obsidian behind her lashes as she listens to the other dwarf. Her lips compress into a thin line as she reaches out to catch a handful of his beard in her fingers and give it a tug as sharp as her tone as she answers him. "So now not only are you dross and half-made, but you are cast aside by the Elder too, are you? What a sorrowful life you have, Fafnir." Her voice crackles like the fire in the nearby grate. "You surprise me, for one I took as being rather sharp, by how blind you are."
(("You surprise me..."))
Eilif lets go of her grip on his beard lest she be tempted to yank it out by the roots, such is her annoyance with the young dwarf. Setting both hands palm down on the table she studies them for a moment as she calms herself. Strong, well-made, capable hands. She wriggles the fingers on her right hand experimentally again, pleased to see the movement no longer caused her pain.
(("Everything is changing, Fafnir.."))
When she speaks again her voice is calmer, but her tone was firm and no-nonsense, "Everything is changing, Fafnir. Everything HAS changed. Try as we might, I cannot see us keeping the old ways once we are in this elven land. " She looks up at him at last, "We are Khazad. Our traditions and way of life has always defined us, but sometimes I have wondered if we have become as rigid as the stone we love so much in our dogged determination to follow that way of life. There was no place for different. There was no place change. But everything IS different, and everything HAS changed. What is more, it is going to change even more. At least here we could walk home if we wished, but when we step upon a ship and sail away our lives will be changed forever. What we make of that, young Fafnir is up to us." She looks at him searchingly, hoping he understood her meaning.
(("You know nothing of my life.."))
Fafnir shakes himself free of his stunned surprise, his cheeks reddening as a hand goes up to stroke the coarse hairs of his beard as his eyes narrow and lips purse. Silence follows her words, broken only by the sounds of the elf behind them, going about his duties, the shift of floorboards overhead and the crackle of the fire a few feet away. When he speaks in answer, his voice has nothing of the bantering tone about it, nothing light and soothing. The voice is low, the tone silken soft, and the words formed with a care. "You," he answers, and his hand resting upon the table curls into a fist. "You know nothing of my life, neither before nor now." He draws in a breath. "We may all sleep together, eat together, trot down to the wharf and board that ship together, but nothing of that gives you to know my life, only what you see of this facade of society. " He draws himself up to his full height, back ramrod straight. "Sharp, you took me for? That is a rare thing to be taken for. Usually it is 'forgettable,' or 'usable,' but I can't saw that no one has watched me long enough to dwell long upon my attributes, or lack thereof."
He drops the hand that is fingering his beard and rests it beside her own. "My hands may not be callused, and it would be a fool who would depend upon me to shoe a horse or mine a copper vein, or fashion a cornerstone sturdy and true. But I am not 'young Fafnir,' to be schooled. Not even in this brave new elven world we Khazad are sailing blithely into."
(("But I am not 'young Fafnir,' to be schooled.."))
Nasi quietly closes the lid on the wooden chest, taking care to make sure it was securely locked before rising to his feet and slipping the few gold coins he has taken from the chest into the small money pouch hanging from this belt. It is never wise to carry too much coin in a strange city, he knows, but he had wanted to make sure he has enough on him to cover his and Fafnir's needs. A smile curves the straight line of his lips at the thought of the other dwarf. Fafnir. His brave Fafnir who had stood with him to face a dragon yet gaped like a child at the novelty of the elven city. There are depths to him that might take years for him to plumb. The smile on his lips grows wider at that thought. Years with Fafnir. It was not something he had ever imagined coming into his life.
Eilif tries to control the small smile that tugs at her lips, and she raises an eyebrow, half in jest, half in challenge, "When I shoe a horse I do not need to know its sire and dam to know its nature. Nor do I need to know what paddock it runs in, nor which barn it sleeps in, but I KNOW the horse. You just have to watch how they move, how they stand, what their eyes do. I can tell the ones who are simple creatures going through their lives with not a thought of anything but the next bucket of oats or trough of hay. I know which are young and foolish that seem to have nothing but pure mountain air between their ears, and I can tell the ones with fire and spirit too."
Eilif leans forward to look into Fafnir's eyes. "You are not the first type. If you behave like the second type as you have just been doing, I shall call you 'young Fafnir,' for it is no less than you would deserve. You have much more than mountain air or solid rock between your ears, Fafnir, and you have fire and spirit, despite what you or others may sometimes think. Nasi can see it, and so can I. So once you tuck that stubborn Khazad pride away and remember all that you are, you'll find Adelstienn more than eager to hear your words for he is in need of friends, good friends." She pauses a moment and then adds quietly, "As am I."
(("As am I."))
"I have known more asses than horses in my life," answers Fafnir, his amber eyes staring hard at her, his mind whirling. Is she friend, as I once thought? he wonders. Friends can be like the last draw of the finest of Adelsteinn's brew; delightful to the eye, heady to the nose, bitter and flat in the mouth but nonetheless soon gone, for one turns no cup down when not assured of better. And he has had many last dregs of friendship in his life. "Although the ones I have known were short two legs," he quips. He lifts the hand next to Eilif's and rests it atop hers. "Shall we drink to asses and horses and mountain air?" he asks, his eyes still studying hers. "And friendships, too?"
((Nasi casts a last glance around the room..))
Nasi casts a last glance around the room before turning to descend to join Fafnir in the taproom below. Several rows of beds of varying types stand neatly in the large open room. He smiles to see that the elven tavern girl had been up tidying the beds again. He has heard some of the others grumble about her "interfering," clearly not understanding the notion of "service" that is provided in city Inns. "Bumpkins," he mutters as he descends the ladder and turns to the steps that lead to the taproom below. His eager steps still as he catches sight of the two seated at the table below. Fafnir! As always something tightens in his chest at his first sight of the tall dwarf. As always he feels as shy again as the first day they met.
(("Bumpkins," He mutters..))
Eilif glances around the room to ensure no one was within earshot and leans closer to Fafnir and whispers, "Alas, I fear we did not leave all the asses behind in the mountain air, so let us drink to friendships; good, long friendships." Her lips spread into a full grin. The movement tugs the tight skin around the healing scar of her wound, and the grin wobbles at the reminder of her disfigurement.
(("...let us drink to friendship.."))
Fafnir leans closer in response and gives a soft chuckle at her response. Nodding, he turns his head so that his lips are close to her ear and whispers back, "And, by the Maker, one has nocturnal flatulence, and the snores of the other is enough to give a headache to the Lord of the West atop his mountain perch." Then a movement from the corner of his eyes catches his attention.
((Then came a movement from the corner of his eyes.. Nasi.))
He sits back and twists around to look up as Nasi descends to the landing. His eyes light up, and his lips curve into a smile. Nasi, his Nasi. The walls lose their patina of age, and the wooden floors shine in reflection of the light Nasi brings with him when he enters the room. Nasi is the sun, his sun, and it feels like the room captures the light of presence and basks in it. Fafnirs lifts his hand from where it rests atop Eilif's to wave at the other dwarf. "It is so crowded in here, I fear he would miss us, towered over as we are by the masses of overtall customers at this time of day." He blushes as he speaks, and hopes his jib would cover his spontaneous reaction to the appearance of his Nasi in the room.
Nasi's heart skips a beat at Fafnir's smile. That smile washes away his shyness in an instant, and he bounds down the steps more like a boy than a mature respectable stone man. His muscular legs take the over large stairs easily, and his boots clunk loudly as he lands on the floor. He pats Eilif on the shoulder in a friendly gesture as he comes to stand next to where she and Fafnir sit, "How are you Eilif?" he asks even as his eyes are drawn to Fafnir. "Hello, my Fafnir."
((He pats Eilif.."Hello, my Fafnir."))
His hand slides into Nasi's without any consideration on Fafnir's part. His smile widens, exposing white and wellformed teeth, in a dazzling smile. His amber eyes look into Nasi's soulful ones, and for a moment, Fafnir is content to gaze upon the young stone mason. Elves may be gossamer, and dwarves may be dross, but Nasi is neither. Nasi is Nasi, and as he stares into those loving eyes, he finds that beauty that is the mason's alone. "Hello, my handsome tree," he says, remembering what he said to Eilif. "Eilif and I are having a very interesting discussion about gossamer and trees and asses." He tugs on Nasi's hand. "Sit, please?"
((Eilif,Nasi and Fafnir))
Eilif 's smile is bittersweet as she watches the exchange between the two. Their tenderness with each other tugs at something deep inside her, something she does not wish to examine too closely. Not here. Not Now. So she brightens her smile to something she hopes resembles warmth and greets the newcomer. "Hello Nasi. Yes, you must take a seat while there is still one free in this overcrowded room."
((Nasi Settles on the bench next to Fafnir...))
Nasi settles on the bench next to Fafnir, leaning close and sliding an arm around his waist, the gesture feeling both so right and yet so new and strange to one who has lived his entire life alone. He glances around the almost deserted Inn and grins over Fafnir's shoulder to Eilif, "I almost got trampled in the rush." Unable to resist the impulse Nasi tightens the arm he has around Fafnir's waist to draw him back against him. "What's this about me being a tree?"
((Fafnir leans back against Nasi...))
Fafnir leans back against Nasi, and feels the tension from before seep out of him. The smell of the soap Nasi used this morning mingles with the leather of the stone mason's jerkin, a smell that means love and warmth and acceptance. Giving Eilif a wink, he turns his head around toward Nasi and answers. "Eilif and I were passing the time discussing very weighty matters. Well, not as weighty as our merchant friend with the sagging jowls to match his sagging stomach, nor were they as sonorous as our mystery snorer upstairs. Nothing, certainly, to cause a horse to throw his shoe or a dwarf to miss his meal eh?"
"We should eat, for certes. For I cannot think we will have much in the way of cooked food when we are on one of those ships. A cook-fire aboard a pile of wood." He shudders.
Eilif 'sighs at Fafnir's words and picks up a fork although she only pokes listlessly at the food on her plate before laying the fork back down again. She still wrestled from time to time with her revulsion for cooked meat, and now the thought of the journey ahead of them quenched any appetite she might have had. "Even if this Olwe does come, I like not the thought of just sailing off with him to an unknown land. An unknown elven land at that."
(("Even if this Olwe comes.. I like not the thought.."))
Fafnir watches her set her fork back down. Leaning back a little more against Nasi, his eyes grow as serious as his tone as he lasps into their people's tongue. "Would you remain here among these elves, Eilif?"
(("Would you remain here among these elves, Eilif?"))
Nasi deftly uses his free hand to spear a piece of meat on his plate. The newly healed scars on his knuckles pulled tight at the moment, but he knew in time they would soften and ease. Popping the meat into his mouth, he chews thoughtfully as he listens to the others talk.
Eilif scowls unseeing at the food before her. "Why should one lot of elves be different to another? At least here I know where I am. Once we are in his lands, how could we make our way back if we wished? Khazad are not fish or birds, nor do we make it a habit of flying around on swans as Aztryd claims she did. What is more, I trust not his intent. Is he truly such a paragon as to welcome us purely from the goodness of his heart?"
"We do know the swan exists, for our Elder saw it, and no drink produced from his brewery can induce such visions," Fafnir says slowly, his appetite dampened by the turn of the conversation. "I guess we can also give credit to this Old-way for returning Aztryd to her people," he pauses and corrects himself, "to us. I mean to us. I have yet to hear much in the way of details from our delicate motherly flower, to know what kind of place this Ack-cue-lond is. She has naught but praise for this elf king." He gives a shrug. "What intent could he have, with such a motley band like we?"
Nasi nods thoughtfully as he eyes the food in front of him, pondering which to try next. One of his great pleasures when he visited the elven cities on business had been tasting their cooking. Spiced with exotic flavors and dressed in delicate sauces they have always been a delight to his palate. "No doubt our delicate motherly flower will have even more praise for him if he takes her in again and saves her from a life of penury. I sometimes wonder if living in a palace may have quite colored her viewpoint, but then if he welcomed such a social pariah as a runaway wife to his home, perhaps he is a kindly paragon indeed." He takes a bite of one of the green leafy vegetables, enjoying the crisp tart taste as his teeth sink into it.
Fafrnir swivels around to look Nasi in the face. "Do you think he knows that she cast off her husband. She could have told him anything."
Nasi stops chewing for a moment, giving Fafnir's question the same careful deliberation he gave to most things in his life. After a moment he continues chewing, and swallows before replying, "How else could she has explained the babe and traveling alone?"
Fafnir thinks a moment and answers in a falsetto voice, "Oh, Great king of the elves, take pity upon me, a widow, with a child. I was kidnapped by orcs and forced to wash their socks. Luckily, I was at the bank of a great river when my sweet, lovely child fell into the water. Naturally, as sweet lampkin cannot swim, I had to dive in after her. "
Fafnir flutters his eyelashes and continues after taking in a huge breath. "Oh, how did I arrive at your fair kingdom? Well, great king, a young human captain saw me as I was floating down the river toward the sea, and he scooped me and the little minnow up aboard his mighty ship and took me aboard, finding me a fine figure of dwarven beauty, but just as we were crossing the mighty sea, a huge storm swept my delicate frame, and that of my sweetling, and the waves, by the miracle of Maker, brought me to the shore of your fair land."
Nasi stares at Fafnir's antics for a moment, jaw open in disbelief and then sits back and roars with laughter. "By the Maker, my Fafnir, I shall have to watch the elven king myself should you choose to flutter your eyelashes so deliciously at him!" Still chuckling, he takes a bite of a leg of chicken and chews merrily, his eyes twinkling with delight.
Eilif chuckles and shakes her head, "So we are putting ourselves into the hands of a strange elf who is either a blindly trusting paragon, sly, or an utter gullible fool. Your words comfort me not, Fafnir, but what choice do we have? If nothing else there will be plenty of swan in his realm to hunt, judging by the way he offers them as transport and couriers. We shall see, I suppose, the truth of the matter, should he ever deign to turn up." Still chuckling a little she reaches for her fork. After all, what will be, will be and it was no good facing it hungry.