Dwimmer pulled his beard in preplexity. There was only one place he hadn't looked, and he was beginning to think that is would be the only place in Arrowhaven he would find his little lass, Fairlain.
Rebuilding his stores had taken him farther and longer from the little Breeland village than he had ever intended, but when he returned and saw the little gold and white mottled horse standing in the stables he knew that Fairlain was in Arrowhaven, and that she would have a tale to tell him. Taking up his large satchel, he went first to the dwarves of the Emporium and bartered a place for this new cache of gems in their vault. It was rare that a dwarf would let himself be entirely bankrupted, yet Dwimmer had done this without a second thought. Strange what love does, at times.
Coming into the light of the square, He looked up the hill and saw that the Warhorse Inn had indeed been rebuilt and proper trails of smoke rose from its chimneys. Good. The provision on his journeys had been poor at best and the ale even worse. Once he had found his little lass, he would make a thorough trial of the provender there.
He asked at the carpenter's house lest she had gone there to get more fletching materials and then at the Manor House, but Fairlain was not to be found and no one could say where she was. He pulled his beard once again, and then his eyes brightened. Turning, he left the road and picked his way along a small path that led into the hillside above the village. Behind several large rocks that were covered with moss and ivy was a small shaded alcove, he found Fairlain sitting. Looking up from a flower she was examining, she cried
"Dwimmer" and rushing over, dropped to one knee and threw her arms around the dwarf.
He hugged her back then stepped back to take a look at her, his hands still on her shoulders. Something had changed and not just the dark hair that had been cropped close to her head. Her eyes seemed weary, though they sparkled as she smiled at him, and a hint of a shadow rested beneath them. Her bare neck rose white from the simple tunic she wore, there was no sign of the elfstone the dwarf had crafted for her.
"I see you got yer wee horsie back....do I dare ask how that came to be?"
Fairlain looked sheepish. "I kept my promise. I didn't seek vengeance on anyone..."
"Oh aye...just traipsed off into dangerous lands after a beast that may not have even been alive to greet ya!" Dwimmer scowled but still kept his hands resting gently on her shoulders.
Fairlain blushed, and with a half-smiled tried to change the subject. "I was in the Golden Wood for a time."
"That place!"
"The White Lady herself invited me...they cared for Daysey..."
"Hmmph...when I was a boy I was taught that any dwarf crossing their borders was either shot full of arrows or turned into a huge lizard...then shot full of arrows."
"Dwimmer!"
"Oh, alright...stand easy...I know our Milady comes from that place too. Did they treat you well, lass?"
"They did. They welcomed me as kin...I did not expect that."
"And why shouldn't they? Just because that pointy-eared sire of yours walked away doesn't mean..."
Fairlain gave the dwarf a stern look and shook her head. "It doesn't matter Dwimmer...he did what he felt was right...and so did the White Lady."
"Ah...well then...I'm glad ye came back to us." He fell silent a moment. "... is that where you left your necklace?
Fairlain's expression became serious.
"When I reached Gwingris I met some of the 'others' . Do you remember the Prospector's lad? He had been taken by ...orcs...I thought. I helped them bring Cynraede out of that place. It was not just orcs...it was..." Fairlain's voice trailed off for a moment, and she glanced away, "...evil, Dwimmer."
"Oh?"
"He was so far from us, Dwimmer...it was like he was in another realm. Nothing we said could reach him, and he had been so badly beaten..."
Fairlain looked at the dwarf, a hint of worry creeping into her eyes. "I couldn't think of anything else to do. I put the necklace around his neck..."
Dwimmer just looked at his little lass and did his best to still his emotions. It felt as though the Battle of Five Armies was being fought once more in his stomach. He had poured everything he possessed into that healing stone for Fairlain, his heart not the least. Taking a deep breath, a memory suddenly came to him and he understood.
When Fairlain had been seven years old, the markets of Dale had been particularly busy. Most years, Fairlain's mother, Elayne, made only a modest profit from the wild honey and small pelts she offered for sale but this year there was coin to spare. The Dalewoman had celebrated by purchasing new clothing for herself and her little daughter, and stopping at the baker's stall had gotten the added treat of a freshly baked roll covered in nuts and honey. The child's eyes had gone wide when she was handed the delicacy...but then her glance darted away. Across from the baker sat one of the urchins of the city watching them, her face and rags covered in dirt, too starved to even to raise her hand for alms. Without hesitation, Fairlain walked over and placed the warm bread in the urchin's hands before coming back to slip her little hand once again into her astonished mother's. It was her nature, and there was no changing it...
Bending his brow in mock anger, he growled
"Aye, well... it's just a necklace." He tapped the end of her nose with his dwarvish forefinger. "I know where the REAL jewels are..." He continued, "What was he doing in Eregion anyway?"
Fairlain blushed. "I...I think he was following me."
The dwarvish eyebrows raised, "Oh aye? I may have to have a chat with this lad."
He helped Fairlain to her feet. "Let's go see if that new cook at the Warhorse is worth her salt, shall we?"
