by Demetri Grim
“Regardless lass.” Little Bit said with a chuckle coming to the end of yet another long tale of her grandfather. This one about him lighting the camp on fire when he had cooking duty. “Your Grandpappy was one hell of a smith, but a piss poor soldier and an even worse cook.” They laughed together once more as she helped pull the tarp back over the top of the wagon and secure the mechanical nightmare. “So when he quit the service O’ the King he swore ta me. 'For the rest of me days, no blood O’mine will ever set foot in this armory again so long as you still run it, you thieving little bit of a bastard your momma didn't want.'” He laughed harder than before and she joined him. “Your grandpappy was just sour the king decreed his pet project here belonged to The Kingdom garrison, as it was built in a time O’ war.” He hooked his thumb back at the wagon as they moved across the armory to a door on the far side, “Course that means it belongs ta me now as the master in charge O' the armory. The old boy didn' take that well when he found out if I recall.”
“No, no he didn't! So that's how you got your nickname?” She asked still laughing lightly.
“Oh hell, one ov'em. He had any number O' good ones that always included, a 'little bit', to its wordin. I think pokin fun at me virile manhood and unabashed dwarfness! Like that would somehow bother me.” Beka blushed and shook her head at him. He just shrugged, grinning up at her as he pulled aside the armory's main door. The heavy iron runners groaned and protested as the large iron door rolled aside, revealing the outer courtyard of the barracks’ training yard. “Here ya go lass. Straight across the courtyard an’ right through the gate. It's a deadshot to the terminal road from there just around the right O'the Colosseum.” He held out his hand and smiled once more. She returned his smile and took his hand in hers, only to get pulled into another rib crushing hug. “Was damn good ta meet you. It's an honor to see your family line finally has something to brag about.” He winked as he set her down, bidding her goodbye. She waved and tried to hide her everpresent blush by quickly turning away.
“And it was an honor to meet you as well Master Grot'Alm.” She smiled and started across the courtyard, catching a few curious looks from guardsmen and soldiers running drills.
“Bah! Call me Little Bit! Yer a Galten after all!” They both laughed once more as the dwarf pulled the heavy iron door to the armory closed.
The sun was just beginning to set when Beka made it back to the market row. Most of the day taken up dealing with the arrogant, dangerous elf lord left her feeling completely drained. "How am I ever going to survive the two weeks before the gate opening celebration working around that man?" Her mind drifted to what she saw on her brief visit. The monsters, the man in red whatever he was, the grey creature that...booped her nose. She wrinkled her nose at that and touched the tip once more. Turning her thoughts instead to the inner working of the Colosseum. They certainly lived up to her expectations. Adventure and risk in spades just as she always associated with the place. Even now safely at home away from it all she cannot help but feel there was danger around every corner.
“There ya are girl.” Montgomery's voice rang out as she moved into the forge’s back room with an exhausted shuffle. Her uncle sat at the shop’s large grinder sharpening an old well-used blade. The spray of sparks coming to an end as he stood to greet her with a hug. “I was worried that elvin bastard was displeased with our work and had ya disappeared like so many others.” Beka patted his arm and they broke the hug.
“Nope I'm alive and well. At least for now.” She bit her lip and looked away from her uncle as his eyes widened in concern.
“Yer going to have to explain that one to me girl. What happened?” He took a seat back at the grinder and crossed his arms, waiting for her answer.
“Well the spear is amazing. Lavets was SO powerful using it. He got its array working and even managed to add his own runes to it.” She broke into a description of the goblin fight and the amazing powers of the spear, her brother’s spells and the warning Red gave about the spear feeding on lifeforce. “I blame myself for that part. The life draining. I never should not have used the pattern from the hammer. It would be so much safer if only I had used something more basic.”
“No point worrying on it now girl. I'm more concerned about who this man in red is? How in the bloody hell did he know the enchantments?” He stood and paced the length of the forge, stopping briefly in front of the wooden armor mannequin she had used for target practice. Sir Rickety's armor now sat on it, fresh leather straps holding it tightly to the old wood. Montgomery picked at a rivet that had pounded in wrong and sighed.
“I don't know. He was just a man, well more likely a monster that works for Lord Kindredstar. He was one of his 'personal stock,'" she said, making air quotes with her fingers. “Which actually brings me to the issue." She hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.
“Oh? Out with it then.” He turned to look at her, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face as he glanced between her and the hidden compartment that held the family's hammer. No doubt still disturbed about the man's unparalleled knowledge of how they worked enchantments. To a lesser degree she suspected the stress of the past few weeks was affecting his work. If Rickety's armor was any indicator. His eyes settled on her with a stern look of concern, his mustache twitching as he waited for her to continue.
“ I have been hired to work another job,” Beka said quietly and she flinched, expecting an outburst given the day she had.
“That's all?” His voice came out with a relieved sigh. “Gods girl ya frightened the hell out of me.”
“An onsite job,” she continued, pacing a few feet back and forth in front of the flickering light of the forge. “At the lord's Menagerie. Doing filigree on one of his monsters.” Beka sighed, “Just telling that to you already goes against his wishes, but I figured you have to be an exception as my guardian and all.” Her voice drifted off as she watched her uncle’s face go pale. He moved across the room away from her before he took a slow seat on the cot he kept pitched in the corner of the room.
“I'm not yer guardian girl. Not any more, Not since yer coming of age ceremony. Yer an adult now, in the eyes of the Kingdom,” he drawled.
“Wow thanks uncle. I feel the love, real sweet of you. Jerk,” she said with a deadpan tone and blank expression. His outright denial of the place in her heart she had held for him since her father had passed stung her more than she realized.
“Of course I love ya. Yer a pain in my ass most of the time but yer family girl. That's not enough to cut it. Not with him I would guess. Most elfs take family and clan seriously but this guy, something just tells me he won't care one bit that I'm family if it goes against his wishes. Let's call it like it is. For now we deal with all of this like a job. I'm yer employer. If he asks if ya told me, do not lie, well not about that.” He rubbed the back of his head and sighed. “Tell him I asked why ya were taking yer tools when I have work for ya here to do.” He nodded his head, “That should do if he is upset about what ya told me.”
“Alright Uncle, I don't want to get you in any more trouble with lord Kindredstar.” Beka smiled softly at him. “At least he was pleased with Heartseeker, a little too pleased perhaps.” She grumbled the last bit under her breath, still loud enough for him to hear, and she shivered. Crossing her arms protectively around herself as spiders skittered down her spine, accompanied by another flash of the day's events ghosting through her eyes. Before she knew it her uncle had risen and moved to place his hand on her shoulder. Providing warmth and stability as she found her way back out of the memory.
“Damn girl, I'm sorry. I should have told that bastard to push off the moment he flashed that etherium. He's bad news. The type of noble ya want to avoid being in the pocket of at all costs.”
“Speaking of bastards.” Beka grinned and patted his hand, thankful for a chance to change the subject. Batting her eyes as her uncle’s mustache bristled at her language and sudden change of mood. “I met Little Bit in the armory today.” S
he grinned even wider as her uncle groaned and slapped a leathery palm to his forehead, clutching at it as if his brain was going to pry its way from his skull and run off.
“Bloody hell! Yer grandfather must be rolling in his grave! How did that happen? No. No, don't tell me I can guess, ya need a forge to do the onsite work and lord Kindredstar happened to know about the portable camp forge yer grandfather built. One more bloody generation and that dirty old dwarf would have been dead and we would have the last laugh.” He shook his fist to the roof and sighed, turning his gaze on her. “Ya had to go and put yer foot into it didn't ya.” He chuckled and shook his head. “That little bit of a rat bastard is going to give me such hell at the pub.” He sighed, still chuckling.
“Really? All that drama just for a bet with one of your drinking buddies?” She rolled her eyes, stifling a yawn as a feeling of exhaustion crept over her. “I'm beat uncle. Today was... stressful.” She visibly deflated and slouched, heading for the door. “I need to get some sleep if I'm going to deal with him for the next two weeks. Rather I’m hoping to make it a week and a half if I’m at all lucky.” Her yawn finally broke free and she stretched, leaning against the door jam.
“That ya will. Yer going to need all the luck we can muster, I'm betting. Get some rest Beka. I will have yer tools ready in the morning.” He slumped backwards onto the cot with a heavy sigh and draped his arm over his eyes. She smiled. She could see he was stressed as well, even a little regretful for putting her into such a situation but he was still trying his best to not show it.
“Goodnight Uncle,” Beka whispered, as she slipped from the room. The sounds of his rhythmic snoring reaching her ears as she stepped into her room and shut the door.
As she turned to get ready for bed a figure stood from where it had been sitting. her bed creaking as the mattress relieved itself of a heavy burden. A large silhouette backlit from the light of her window heaved forward. Beka cried out in surprise and threw her arms up to cover her face as the towering mass of— clothing? —plowed into her.
“Oi my gods Beka! I was so worried!” The familiar voice of Lizzy cried into her ear. “Where the hell 'ave ya been? I 'ave been ere all bloody afternoon ta surprise ya but ya neva came home!” Lizzy took a step back still holding her shoulders as she peered into her eye. Beka just gasped and blinked catching her breath before stepping forward to wrap her best friend in a tight hug. Lizzy’s dark blond curls tickling her face as she held onto her.
“Lizzy! You have no idea the day I have had. How did you get in here? Uncle didn't mention you were here.” She stopped and parted from the hug, scrunching her nose with narrowed eyes at her smugly grinning friend. “Wait don't tell me you snuck in!” Beka took a step back, hands on her hips. “You did!” Beka gasped. “You did! You should not be climbing in here in your condition!” Beka turned to light the small lamp she kept in her room. Filling the space with a low warm glow.
“Please... I'm pregnant Beka not bedridden.” Despite her remark her tall and usually athletic friend sighed and groaned as she sat heavily into the room’s lone chair. Beka rolled her eyes and gave Lizzy a pointed look. “Wha? Yer bloody chair is terrible, not my fault.” Lizzy beamed an innocent smile up at her.
“My chair is just fine.” She pouted and set the lantern on her bedside table. Rummaging around under her pillow for her suspiciously missing nightshirt she shot Lizzy a dirty look.
“Yer not gonna find it love, I already threw it out the window.” She laughed.
“Lizzy why!” Beka clambered over the bed to the window and peered out. Sure enough a small sack sat in the ally, leaning against the wall of the shop. “Damn it Lizzy what am I supposed to wear now, you already stole all my other clothes.” She grumbled and shot her a glare.
“Thas’ the surprise, idiot.” Lizzy just beamed up at her before trying and then failing to get up. Her very pregnant belly and the thick multi layered blue dress she wore pinned her to the chair. She growled and floundered a bit. “Bloody hell, this brat is already givin’ me a piss bucket’s worth of hard time.” Her light grumble was punctuated by another failed attempt to pull herself from Beka’s low overstuffed chair. “Ahh to hell with it!” Lizzy huffed falling back into the seat and pointed to the laundry chest.
Beka smiled to herself, amused by her friend’s choice words. The two of them had learned to cuss by practicing on each other years ago. Both trying to one up the other with a witty or foul comment. Much to her uncle’s everlasting chagrin. Moving to the chest she swung it open, revealing several sets of folded new or cleaned clothing, all organized in matching sets. Most of the new pieces in shades of blue or green cut to the same pattern as every other tunic in the city. Beka sighed a little but was thankful to have something back. One thick pair of new leather work pants sat folded along the top of the chest as well as something new. She cocked an eyebrow, withdrawing a folded square of thick cloth and rich leather. Standing, she held it up to herself. A knee-length grey and brown skirt unfolded before her. Soft leather ribbing ran along the sides with many oversized pockets lining the leather portions of the heavy skirt. The cut was exactly to her size, with enough soft grey linen lining the front and back to give her legs a full range of movement. A thick hem lined the bottom that would let her bend and kneel without it hiking up.
“It's somethin I 'ave been workin on fer a few weeks.” Lizzy grinned at her, waving for her to come closer with it. “I know ya favor yer work leathers. But Let's face it, I know ya better than that.” She winked at her mischievously. “I took the leather pattern of the sides from a pair of carpenters’ trousers we 'ave at the shop, an the thick hem an folds in the middle from one of our more popular dresses we sell to the girls who work on the farms out east. I figure, mus be easy ta work an move round in with how many we well. Since I know ya prefer ta dress like a whore rather than a lady...”
Beka gasped in protest and with a lunge for her pillow started to savage her friend with it. They both broke into a fit of laughter and Lizzy's complaints about attacking a pregnant woman as she tried to defend herself. Naturally Beka ignored her protests, considering the very pregnant woman had climbed the uneven stones of the smithy’s outer wall to sneak into her window, and was clearly in no danger from a bag of feathers.
“I do not dress like a whore! It’s hot in the forge! And it’s always summer! Take that back!” She threatened with the pillow again as their laughter and breathing calmed.
“Neva! I will take the truth of yer uncouth ways ta my grave and let the dead themselfs know as well!” Lizzy snickered and gasped, her breath still labored from laughing. Beka smacked Lizzy again with the pillow for good measure. “Now, I was sayin fore some trollop started hittin on me.” Lizzy paused to wink and give Beka her best and most cheshire grin. “I cut the length ta jus bout yer knees and hemmed it so it won’t bunch. Oh an that matching grey shirt under where ya got ova there was all I could do on short notice.” Lizzy nodded and Beka returned to the chest, withdrawing the mentioned item. A simple albeit small linen shirt. “I made it from the same cloth as the skirt so I know it will match, not that ya care about that. Seein as yer nothing but a tomboy trollop.” Beka shot her another glare but it was half-hearted, considering she used to be the girlier of the two. Before Lizzy hooked up with the seamstress’s kid and settled down. “I cut it ta look good on ya anyway.” Lizzy continued, ignoring Beka’s indignant glaring. “Not like ya have any sense of style so I won’t botha explain’in. Still I know ya will approve.” Lizzy grinned again. “Ya like it betta at least than that, hideous green rag ya were so fond of wearing all the time. And best of all it will actually fit yer girls.” Lizzy continued to laugh lightly and did a little shimmy in the chair. It looked ridiculous in her pregnant state and layer cake clothing but Beka could not help but grin at her antics. “If ya got it, flaunt it!” They both laughed.
“Lizzy thank you! I love it. But why? This really is too much.” Beka dropped the clothing on her bed and stooped to take Lizzy into anoth
er hug.
“I figur if yer goin ta be meetin with them dandy elvish lords an minglin with stuck up old nobles at the castle yer going to need something betta ta wear. At least somethin thas not yer favorite formal puke green ball gown.” Lizzy winked and snickered at Beka’s suffering groan. “Yer skirt is the first of its kind from our shop, jus so ya know. Perhaps only cut like it on Cross! A work skirt, with pockets! I'm going ta make one for myself as soon as I get my gorgeous figure back.” Lizzy struck a sultry pose, batting her eyes. Beka had to bite back a snort of laughter. Lizzy swatted her on the thigh with an offended glare. She squeaked and sat down on her bed. “Sides if it works out for ya I'm going ta make, so, much, money, sellin em that it will pay for itself.” Lizzy smiled and held out her hands shooting Beka a bashful look.”Elp me up?” Beka giggled and rose to help haul her out of the chair.
“I should have known it was a money scheme.” She snickered and smiled as Lizzy straightened her dress, returning her smile.
“Course it is, if anyone asks about it, ya tell em the most beautiful, divine, elegant...”
“Arrogant, pompous, showboating.” Beka rattled along and Lizzy smacked her arm giving an offended look and a huff.
“Rude!” Lizzy gave her a truly rude gesture with her hand and Beka feigned offence, giving her one in return.
“Yea, Rude... that fits as well. Guess you don't need me to make your list after all.” Beka grinned and ducked away as Lizzy slapped at her arm again.
“Jus tell em I made it and send em ta me. I'm going ta get my money out of yer cute little streetwalker ass one way or another. Now if ya don't mind, I’m going to use yer front door. My back is killing me.” Laughing softly they moved down the stairs and out into the front room, pausing at the bottom of the steps to lean against the main table. Lizzy rattled off the few other repairs and patches she had made on her other bits of clothing. Noting that most were going to last only another year or so and that she was surprised any of the tops still fit at all given her bust. “Yer not going to get another outfit for free, next time ya ruin yer clothing,” Lizzy remarked as they moved to the front of the shop, her uncle’s loud snores eching from the back room.