A Father’s Gift
During Gungur’s previous visit to Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, which he would reminisce upon every so often.
Gungur’s steps thudded against the polished pavement as he walked down the hallway. Even though it had been quite some time since his last visit, he knew the halls and the numerous passageways like his own pockets. In specific the route to his destination, from which he had been away an even longer time. The Dwarf went through in his mind the mixed feelings of joy, but also nervousness; the joy of seeing his father in a long time and simultaneously the anxiety of what will occur.
“Hrm… What should I say? … What will he say?” the Dwarf pondered to himself as he continued on his way.
After a good while of walking down the hallway, down the large stairwell and past the merchants’ square, Gungur stood in front of a small Dwarven dwelling of stone. The house was much smaller than his; it had only one floor with no balcony, the yard was rather small with little decorations, only a few carved pillars on each side of the path leading to the heavy-looking wooden door. Everything looked more or less the same as when he had last paid a visit, the stone walls of the house perhaps slightly more polished than before. As he approached the door, his eyes quickly fixed on the small sign carved of stone where it read:
“Now that is something new, I must admit. He’s invested on a proper sign,” he snickered, raising his hand to knock. Gungur stood quietly a while there however, as he noticed his hand hesitating with the knock. He shook his head to drive away the feelings of doubt as he proceeded to knock.
*DUM DUM!*
The door thumped under the impact. Gungur stood there quietly, listening if there were any sounds coming inside indicating someone would come open the door. Nothing. He huffed frustrated before knocking again.
*DUM DUM!*
Still nothing. He was growing impatient. Was his father not home at this time, even though he had been well-informed beforehand with a letter, telling of Gungur’s visit? Was this to show how much he cared of his son? Gungur clenched his fist once more to knock on the door. This time would be the last, and then he’d take his leave. He made sure this time the knock would be heard.
*DUM DUM DUMM!*
“--Coming! I’m coming! By my Beard, no need to smash the door, we heard you the first time!” a snarling voice shouted to Gungur, which genuinely startled him. Gungur did not have time to respond, as immediately the rattling sounds of the door being unlocked were carried outside. With a dry, long creak the door opened, accompanied by grumpy murmuring.
“Hurr, what could be so important that one has to almost shatter an old Dwarf’s door, eh? Emphasis on the old, mind you, so it might take a while to get to the lobby, hrm… Or better yet, we may be having a day off today,” the voice babbled, like a river that was flooding over its banks. Gungur couldn’t help but to listen, as he was not given a chance to speak.
Gungur stood face-to-face with an old Dwarf with a long beard as pale as snow, his wrinkled face carrying a frown which must’ve folded thrice above his brows. His head was bald, covered in many beautifully detailed dwarven angular tattoos with runes. The Dwarf kept muttering whilst bustling with the door’s lock, not even looking at Gungur.
“A-ahem,” Gungur cleared his throat, hoping to draw attention away from the lock, “Father?” he simply asked, addressing the old Dwarf.
The Dwarf immediately turned to him; his eyes opening fully, also to reveal only one of his eyes were his own as the other one was a simple silvery ball, its polished surface flickering as he kept looking at Gungur. His frown straightened as his expression changed to a surprised one.
“Gu-Gungur! What’re you doing here, son? Weren’t you supposed to arrive the 15th day?” Dunnok, the father, asked as he demanded an explanation.
“But Father, today is the fifteenth! As mentioned in the letter, as promised, as agreed. I expected you to at least know your calendar and the time of the month, hmph!” Gungur answered irritated, leaving his father in a state of confusion, “It is?”
Dunnok then quickly opened the door fully, beckoning his son to step inside. He took a step to the side, grabbing his walking-axe, leaning heavily on it. As Gungur entered, he couldn’t help but to quietly notice his father’s current state, but continued nonetheless to remove his cloak and unbutton his overcoat, placing them on the coat rack, and his bag underneath it. He couldn’t also help but to notice the small layer of dust on the dresser next to the rack. With steady steps Gungur made his way to the small dining room, and seated himself by the dinner table. He ran his hand on its dark, wooden surface, noticing it had seen some better days. He waited quietly for his father to have a seat as well, the two looking at each other for a moment.
“So… How’ve you been, Father? All well, I hope?” Gungur asked, at this point not certain what else was there to ask. His father hummed.
“Well… I’ve managed so far good, aye. Though I’ve seen better days, to be honest. Back’s been a bother this past week, you see. Although, at this stage, if I’d feel no pain at all every day, I would imagine I was dead,” Dunnok explained, his tone somewhat bittersweet. Gungur only nodded slowly, “And how about you, son?” Dunnok asked in return.
“So far all’s well, mhm. No pains so far, but I know for certain I’m still alive, mm,” Gungur replied, managing a mild smile, “Business has been good and steady. Always a customer looking for a blade to buy,” he continued.
“That is good, aye, glad to hear that,” Dunnok said with a nod, his voice dry as firewood. He coughed a few times.
Gungur rushed up from his seat, already halfway across the dining room as he was heading to the pantry in the back. “Ale?” a simple question was heard, although Gungur already knew what his father’s answer would be. Not long before he returned with two large cups of ale, placing one on the table for his father to take.
“Much appreciated, son,” Dunnok thanked as he took a hearty sip to moisten his throat. Gungur nodded in return as he took a sip as well, “Oh, just as good as I remembered,” Gungur hummed.
The two Dwarves sat there a good while discussing, sipping their drinks as they clearly loosened up. At some point Gungur’s hand reached for his pipe-pouch on his belt as he took out his trusted pipe; its curved and wooden surface carved with many entwined lines and scales, inlaid with small silvery rings around the stem. He had come prepared, as it was already filled with new pipe-weed. To his misfortune, he was out of matches.
“Mrhm… I think I have some left on one of the kitchen drawers,” Dunnok pointed out, Gungur quickly going in search for the matches, “Oh, and bring my pipe as well while you’re at it,” he quickly added with an innocent hum.
The two Shimmerbeards sat by the dinner table, drinking and smoking while the room slowly filled with smoke which searched its way out the various door chinks and holes. Dunnok smacked his lips in a pleased manner as he attempted to have a better taste at the weed’s aroma. Gungur wasn’t as happy, as he had needed to give some of his own pipe-weed for his father to smoke.
“Mm, very good this,” the old Dwarf briefly stated, “Anyway… You still have that nag of yours around? The goat What’s-its-name?” he would then ask his son.
“… You mean Silvertine?” Gungur asked in confirmation, a frown on his face. Dunnok nodded.
“Aye, that’s the one! It tried to bite my finger off the last time I saw it!” Dunnok muttered, dramatically waving his left index finger. Gungur shook his head.
“Well, it may have helped if you hadn’t kept gripping on the carrot despite it was partly in the animal’s mouth, hmph!” Gungur pointed out in response, but was answered by Dunnok’s incoherent muttering.
Gungur decided to leave the topic there and stood up, going for a refill. He had brought the whole keg of ale into the dining room, making it easier for Dunnok as well to have a refill. A little twist and ale began running from the tap, filling his mug to the very brim. After taking a seat again Gungur took a hearty sip, smacking his lips in delight.
“Aye, much better than any Man-ale they serve in Bree or any other towns around there!” Gungur complimented, his father agreeing with a simple firm nod. Gungur hummed with a mouthful as he suddenly remembered.
“Ah, I forgot to ask you, Father… About that new sign outside your door - How’s business been?” Gungur asked with genuine curiosity.
“Oh that?” Dunnok began enthusiastically, “Mighty fine sign, if you ask me! But never mind that, business has been good, aye. I still work a couple of days a week refilling my stock on the shelves. Rest of the time I have the workshop open for customers to buy from. Besides that I also still take commissions if the customer is looking for something in specific. Having only one eye never slowed me down, mhm,” he explained, gently tapping underneath his left eye which was the fake eye in question. Gungur listened carefully.
“And there are customers still flowing in, or?” Gungur asked his father in between.
“Of course, of course! I actually thought you to be another customer knocking on my door. Even though I was specifically having a day off today, hehe,” the old dwarf snickered, taking another long inhale from his pipe.
The two dwarves quieted down for a moment as they simply enjoyed each others’ company, both blowing out some smoke-rings across the table. It even started to resemble a silent duel of smoking; which one of them made the largest smoke-rings. In between the amused hums the two took short sips of ale to water their lips for better smoke-blowing. Eventually, Dunnok’s face turned to a solemn one, which was a sign for Gungur that the playful competition was over.
“I was meaning to ask you, my son… How are things with you? I mean, how are things with your family?” the old dwarf asked, making Gungur cough a mouthful of smoke, “How are things between you and my granddaughter and grandso--“
“Much of the same as before, Father. Still… ‘Complicated’,” Gungur grunted an answer, as if he had been expecting the whole time for this topic to come.
“And exactly how ‘complicated’ are we talking here, then? Complicated as in being on no speaking terms with your daughter, or Complicated as in not knowing the whereabouts of your son--”
“Enough! You know exactly how complicated things are, Father,” Gungur interrupted loudly, letting out a deep sigh afterwards, “I am still working on it…,” he continued, sinking in his seat as he took a long swig of ale. Dunnok shook his head slightly.
“How did things end up this way, eh? You could at least speak with her, son,” Dunnok wondered in between, but Gungur shook his head instead.
“Speak with Braggir? How could I? How can I ever face my daughter again after what happened then?” he bemoaned, “Besides, what’s the use; have her shout at my face how she despises me - or better yet - curse me to the lowest depths of the earth? Nay… I couldn’t bear that,” he explained, his elbows leaning against the table while he cupped his face in his hands.
Dunnok fell silent for a while, trying his best to imagine himself in the same situation. A situation which, in this case, was rather difficult for him, as it had never occurred him to mar the relationships with his family like that. He was about to take another sip but noticed his mug empty. The old dwarf stood up slowly as he went for a refill, the room dead quiet this whole while. Once seated, Dunnok cleared his throat to gain his son’s attention.
“She paid a visit here a while ago, you know. Three weeks ago, to be exact,” the old dwarf simply said, and Gungur listened very carefully as he knew of whom he was speaking about, “She asked how you were doing, and if you’d be paying a visit here anytime soon,” he continued. Gungur swallowed hard as he listened, not even daring to take a mouthful of his pipe. He hesitated a moment as he slowly prepared the words in his head.
“And… How is she?” he managed to ask, much to his own surprise. Dunnok hummed in thought.
“Oh, she’s grown to a fine young maiden, and oh how she played the fiddle! Quite handy, she is. Whittles and tinkers instruments, as well as some toys of wood and stone, and she truly has an eye for quality crafts, aye,” Dunnok explained, his son listening quietly, almost in awe.
“She has? B-by my Beard, I never expected that,” Gungur managed to say in between his sips of ale, “Did she say when she’d come visit you again?” he continued. Dunnok shrugged a little.
“She didn’t say. Perhaps sometime next month, later this year, next year… Who knows? She said she will be looking for her brother…,” Dunnok explained, but fell silent towards the end as he noticed his son’s expression; His eyes were filled with sorrow, yet there was a glint of hope in them as he had learned of his daughter’s actions - perhaps not all was lost.
Much later that day, once their pipes were out of smoke and the keg emptied of ale, the two Dwarves stood up and tidied the dining room. Gungur carried the empty keg back into the pantry for his father to find other uses for while Dunnok brought the mugs to kitchen for him to clean at a later time. Gungur then moved back to the coat rack and picked up his overcoat, slowly buttoning it.
“Well, ‘tis always a pleasure, Father, but I should get going now. I have some things left to do here before I shall depart once more for west. A lot of folk travelling there, hence there is a large market for weapons,” Gungur explained, his tone almost apologising. Much to his surprise, his father was nowhere to be seen.
His wondering was short-lived, however, as he suddenly heard sounds of rummaging coming from the other side of the hallway; from his father’s workshop. He carefully approached the doorway, peeking into the room: At the moment illuminated only by a few candles, he could make out several shelves along the walls, all filled with various pieces of jewellery made of precious metals, some inlaid with colourful gems, resting on cushions for customers to observe and inspect. He gasped in awe at the sight; it had been too long since he had last seen his father’s handwork. Just then he noticed the back of a Dwarf leaned forward - his father’s. Dunnok was clearly searching for something under the counter. Gungur cleared his throat.
“Erm… Father? I was thinking of taking my leave, so… you may continue with whatever you’re doing,” he informed the searching dwarf, unsure if he even heard him.
“One moment, one moment! I, uh…,” the old dwarf muttered an answer, “I have something for you, son. Right…. ah, here it is!” he exclaimed as he apparently found what he was looking for.
Gungur watched in mild confusion as his father straightened himself and approached him with two small wooden boxes in his hands. They were nothing too fancy, both having some lines carved in them, as well as bright metal platings to strengthen the corners. Dunnok offered the boxes for him to inspect. Still rather confused, yet filled with an almost childish curiosity, Gungur carefully opened the boxes one at a time.
First of the boxes contained a small wooden toy-goat, carefully mounted on some tiny metal wheels, connected in pairs by a thin metal axle on both its front and hind hooves. The goat’s expression was stern as its antlers, yet the thin leather leash around its neck invited to give it a tug and take home with you. Next to the goat there was a set of five oval-shaped figures of stone, made to look like Dwarves with beards down to the ground. They were of different sizes, the smallest one being only a quarter the size of the largest one, yet you could fit them all in your hand. Their eyes were from different polished gemstones, some emeralds, others amethysts. Last item on the box was a small leather band, from which several other straps spread out. On each end of the straps there were tiny bells, which jingled as you moved the band.
Gungur blinked as he inspected the items, confusion slowly taking over him. He raised his gaze to meet his father’s single eye.
“T-these are rather nice, Father, but… why show me these?” he asked carefully, not meaning to disrespect his father at this point. Dunnok huffed.
“Tsh, why, you ask? These are the handwork of your daughter, Braggir!” the old Dwarf declared somewhat displeased, “She wanted you to have these,” he continued, offering the box and its contents to Gungur.
Gungur jaw dropped as he learned from who these items were. He quickly looked at them once more, this time in a different light. The confusion was momentarily gone, replaced by deep satisfaction as he accepted the box.
“These are? By my Beard, I would’ve never guessed. When or if you see her next time, thank her for me, mm?” Gungur spoke out, making a sincere request. Dunnok only nodded.
Gungur carefully took the box away and placed it next to his bag on the lobby for him to take with him, before he returned to his father’s store. Seeing his father still standing there silently, he suddenly realized - there was yet the other box!
“And what about this other box, Father?” he asked, the confusion rising once more.
“Open and you’ll see,” Dunnok simply explained.
Gungur opened the box, revealing a variety of jewelry; earrings, rings, necklaces, lockets, bracelets, all glinting in colours of gold and silver. Some had tiny, finely polished gems inlaid, reflecting different shades of emerald-green, ruby-red and sapphire-blue, to name a few. On one corner inside the box there was a small cloth pouch, filled with different kinds of finely cut and polished gemstones. Many of the gems were much of the same as in the jewelry, but also including amethysts, moonstones and so forth. Gungur’s eyes glistened before these works of art. Noticing himself at a loss for words, he tried to speak to his father.
“F-Father, I… I don’t what to say, I… Why would you hand me all these, rather than selling them here in your store?” he managed to ask, seemingly unaware of the reason for his father’s generosity. Dunnok offered him a simple smile.
“Hm, why, you ask? Is that not what fathers are for; to surprise their children and offer them gifts every once in a while? A father’s constant concern is how his son manages to provide his daily ale,” Dunnok explained, “Here, son, take these. Upon your coming travels, when you see fit, you may sell these for a profit and use the earnings as you please - even in ale, mind you. Or, do whatever you want with them,” the old dwarf continued, slowly closing the box and offering it to his son. Gungur accepted the gift with a courteous head-bow, quickly placing it next to the other box and his other belongings. He then turned back to his father, exchanging a few last words.
“Father, I… I do not know how to thank you, but… Thank you. I will keep these safe until I find use for them,” Gungur thanked his father, hesitating towards the end, “Also, I… I promise I will see to that things in my family will be taken care of. However, I cannot promise you when that happens,” he continued, his face falling towards the floor.
He shuddered as he suddenly felt a firm hand on his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. Gungur immediately turned his eyes forward, noticing his father offering him a set of approving nods.
“I know, I know. And whenever that time is, I will be waiting, son. More eagerly than you expect, mm. And should you ever need help in any way, you know where to always find me,” Dunnok spoke quietly, slowly raising his other hand to hold Gungur’s other shoulder just as firmly.
Gungur said nothing more, simply bowing his head. After that, he repeated the same gesture, placing his hands on his father’s shoulders. Then, the two Dwarves slowly pressed their foreheads together, both having their eyes closed as the father and son enjoyed this brief silent moment ere Gungur’s departure. They both knew just as well it was not certain if or when they would meet again…
((The images by me))
