The dwarf could barely keep his eyes open as he warmed his hands by the fire. It had taken four days to make his way from Zigilgund to Penti-Pyeldot with snowshoe and shovel, and he was practically done in by the effort.
Idly, his hand brushed through some of the stones that made up the base of the fire pit. One was particularly flat--a good healing stone, he thought. He recalled another such stone, back in Dale, at a time when Fairlain was about fifteen summers old... not all that long ago, really. When other lasses that age concerned themselves with looking pretty and catching the eyes of handsome lads, Fairlain seemed to become more like the old crones that gathered around the town well. She would often listen to the troubles of others and somehow come up with replies that would lend comfort ...or at least good sense. Heaven knows where that came from, in a lass of fifteen.
At times, though, she was still far too cheeky for her own good, and when the two qualities combined it generally did not work out that well. One evening on a market day, she had come into Dwimmer's workshop gingerly holding one hand close to her body. A large, loutish lad had threatened one of the urchins that ran about streets as such times, and she had stepped up to the child's defense. The bully had swung at her with a club he carried, but she had stopped the blow and wrenched the weapon from his hand...giving his crown a good, sharp crack in the process. Needless to say, the lout made a swift retreat, but Fairlain's hand had taken a bad bruise in payment. After gently examining the hand, the Dwarf reached into a small bag he kept tied to his belt and took out a small stone and a riffler. Filing down a flat spot on the rock, he used the pointed end of the tool to etch a "V" rune on the stone's surface. Once done, he put back the riffler, and cupping the stone in both hands, breathed upon it and whispered a few inaudible words. Placing the stone in the girl's hand, he closed her fingers around it and bade her hold it until the pain lessened. Dwimmer reminded the girl that for every loutish bully there generally was a loutish hero, as well, and such things were better left to them, but he didn't have much confidence that his words would be heeded...
The dwarf sighed and dropped the stone he held back into the fire pit. His little lassie was much on his heart these days, though he didn't know why. First things first, though, and getting through this frozen wasteland was at the top of the list.
