This was written for an exchange! While the story was made with Alake/Grundle in mind, this can also be read in a platonic way as well. So everybody wins!
Subliminal message: worship Grundle. Worship her forever.
Elmas was unlike anything Grundle had ever seen. The castle made of the sea coral hurt her eyes. The iridescent hues of their surfaces, from stark white to a strange violet, gave her a terrible headache. She grimaced, moved behind the comforting shadow of her father, which thankfully blocked the sight.
The Vater, however, would have none of that. He stepped away, gestured for her to stand by his side. "Are you a princess of Gargan or are you not?"
Grundle restrained herself from pouting. She felt her mother just by her shoulder, whose hand was dangerously close to one of her side whiskers. "I am, Father."
There was only a small contingent of dwarves at the port, consisting of the royal family and two guards that were really there more for show than any kind of actual protection. The animosity between them and the people of Elmas had all but waned over the last century or so. And the dwarves had little to worry about, even if the elven citizens suddenly decided to be cold in their greetings; weaponry and fighting in general practically extinct on Elmas.
Grundle looked back longingly at the submersible they had just exited, it's wooden surface bobbing up from the foam, the water giving its expert handiwork a lovely sheen. She had been allowed to visit the steerage that morning, on permission by her parents. She hadn't been able to do much, but the crew had been courteous to their young princess, even letting her grasp the steering wheel in both hands, allowing her the moment of having the ship at her control (if one ignored the captain's own hand still firmly gripped on the wheel).
The elven guards that greeted them were tall, their voices soft and high-pitched, leading her to think that they have never shouted once in their lives. Her father's booming tone was a strong comparison. She realized just then how much she would miss that.
She felt a pinch on her arm. "Put on a smile for our hosts."
Grundle did so obediently. She even did a bow for the elves before the Muter made her. She knew what to do. The pointy-eared creatures had visited her home on Gargan before and she knew her courtesies, even at her young age of one hundred. Not always though. She had once remarked aloud on how their guests would crack open their heads on those dangerously tall beds the dwarves had made for them. Her father gave her sound advice. "Respect their ways. And they will respect yours."
The elven city of Elmasia was quite beautiful, she could admit. She wasn't sure how the coral landscapers could manipulate the substance just so for their dwellings (and what she heard later, they barely had control over it anyway), but it was fascinating all the same. Fronds outlined the doorways, reefs extended down to the Goodsea. When they came upon the Grotto, with its diverging hallways and its high ceilings, she also had to admit that the elves' architecture was better than most.
"Ah, so good to see you again, old friend."
They now stood in the grand hall, the smoothness of the floor contrasting with the ridged coral walls. Eliason, the king, stood tall in his sea-green mantle. He had a kind face and an even kinder smile. Grundle remembered him from his visits. She liked him. Though he conducted his affairs in aggravating slowness like the rest of his people, he did it quicker than most. She also appreciated his wardrobe, for it was easy on the eyes.
"I must say, I'm surprised to see you out here so soon," her father said, giving a small grunt. "I expected to wait at least three cycles."
Eliason laughed good-naturedly. "I can be quick to action when I need to be. Besides, Sabia is excited to see her playmate."
"We must thank you once again for this arrangement," her mother said. "Honestly, we never would have thought it up ourselves."
"You give me too much credit, Hilda. We all want this peace to continue, which will soon be given to our children."
Her father side-eyed her, sporting a grin. "If our dear daughter learns to behave."
Grundle took the cue, and bowed deeply toward Eliason once more. "It is my duty, and also my honor."
I know my words well. But she was genuine. It was just the homesickness made it more difficult than she had thought it would be. But Eliason was pleased by her answer, and so were her parents.
They rulers chatted some more, much of it consisting of the routine pleasantries, allowing her mind to wander off. She wondered if she could ask if the elves had caves on their seamoon, or at the very least a lower floor for her to take her residence in. She, like most of her people, weren't comfortable sleeping without the stable presence of stone above their heads. But that would've been rude, and she had heard that the coral was a pretty solid substance. She supposed it would have to do.
"Since dinner will be in a signe, perhaps we should head to your new quarters," Eliason was saying. She paid enough attention to nod graciously, following him and her parents through the coral hallways out of the hall. Walking there took far longer than she anticipated, just now remembering the erratic movement of the coral and its tendency to close off and create new pathways. But in a sense, it did remind her of the tunnels back home, even though stone stayed just where it was, being more reliable in its nature.
Well, she could get used to this place. Dwarves were always known for their resilience.
"It is a fun toy," said the human girl, watching the spinning top travel across the polished floor. "But what is so useful about it?"
Sabia, kneeling in her violet dress on the carpeted floor, gazed up at her in confusion. "What do you mean? One of our most talented magical artisans had this specially made for me. See how the lights alternate in the color" -she gestured to the rapid blinking that decorated the surface of the toy- "and how it can go on for over two signes with no need to stop? Isn't it wonderful?"
Alake, daughter of the Coven's leader, did her best to hide her disappointment. She had grand visions of rising waves, of lightning spreading from her hands, of fire igniting in the air with a snap of her fingers, all at the age of twelve. Magic was supposed to be a powerful, mysterious force given to them by the One, to be given the proper respect. To reduce such a gift to simple entertainment for children seemed rather… childish.
Still, Sabia was a sweet girl. She had grasped the human's hands in a sisterly fashion on their meeting, awing at the wrap she wore and the musical beads in her hair. And she knew it would not do to at least act more interested.
"Yes, now I see, Sabia. It really is wonderful."
Sabia smiled. "Oh, I'm so glad! I do have other treasures to show you, like my harp that can play the Dark Lady all by itself and-"
She was interrupted by a gentle knocking. Her duenna immediately answered the door, allowing Eliason and his guests to enter.
"Father!" Sabia stood up, proper in her demeanor, though she clasped her hands to take hold of her excitement. "Is this the dwarven princess?"
Grundle, just entering the room, gave a rueful grin. "No, I'm just the barkeep's daughter, here to take your orders."
Sabia blinked. The Vater cleared his throat.
Alake inwardly groaned. A person of such high authority should really take matters more seriously.
Unnerved by Sabia's silence, Grundle tried to make amends. "I was kidding. My name is Grundle."
The elven princess smiled. "I'm so happy to finally meet you! I was afraid for a moment you wouldn't have come."
"Well, things have gone off to a better start than I expected," the dwarven king said.
Eliason kept on his smile, unfazed by Grundle's vain attempts at humor. "You can trust our city to care for your daughter as much as I do my own. And Sabia promises to give her the best in hospitality."
Sabia nodded in agreement. "I certainly must hear more about your home. Is it true that your people don't perform any types of magic? Alake here has just been explaining to me her studies of becoming a witch."
"Sorceress is more the correct term," the young human corrected gently.
Without missing a beat, Eliason gestured to her. "Please allow me to introduce the fair Alake of Phondra. I believe you've already met?"
She bowed low to the dwarven rulers, hearing the beads in her hair clicking against each other in her movement. "We have, and it is an honor to see you again. Yngvar, you've most certainly gotten stronger since then."
The Vater rubbed his chin, grinning. "Still as sweet as ever. My regards to Chieftain Dumaka and how he can raise one heck of a lass."
Hilda shook her head. "Ah, see? Now you've filled up his head." She nudged her husband with an elbow. "Besides, shouldn't it be obvious that she's inherited Delu's courtesies?"
"You can certainly ask them over on the terrace," Eliason supplied. "They arrived about a signe ago, and were starting to ask about you."
"Bah, that Dumaka. Perhaps it's a comfort to know some things never change, including that man's impatience."
It wasn't long before the adults left their daughters to finally connect with each other in the hope for a wonderful future. But before all that, Alake kept a scrutinizing eye on the dwarf maid. Her skin was a nutmeg shade, not the solid darkness of her own. She had on a faded grayish kind of dress, though she also wore trousers under the hem. Her boots were of a tough make, more useful for stomping through the mountain caverns than a small walk around the palace. She also seemed to have a beard sprouting from her face, though it was styled with a fine sheen, curled at the edges, perhaps a dwarf's own way of looking pretty.
When all three girls were finally alone, Grundle spoke first. "So, do you always walk barefoot like that?"
Alake frowned. "My people have no use for footwear."
"That must be hard though. These floors seem to have growths of the coral every so often. Nearly stubbed my toe on one."
Alake knew that, having stepped on several during her walk down the hallways. Her days of traveling the jungle paths and over large tree roots had toughened her soles though.
Seeing the human wasn't going to answer, Grundle looked over to the elf. "What do you got there?"
Sabia clapped her hands at this. "Oh yes, please allow me to show you!"
They're really both just children, Alake thought, keeping her eyes on them as Sabia went to start up the spinning top again. She arranged her pouches, filled with scrolls of her first spells, making note on when she would study them. Her mother had instilled in her the discipline for that, and she would continue her lessons. Even in this place with the pointy-eared ones and a dwarf side-eyeing her so strangely.
She knows her words well, too, Grundle thought when the human girl stepped forward. Her appearance was no surprise really. She looked much like her parents, down to the cloth wrap they all wore, with only the strap laid over her right shoulder instead of her left. But she had a magnificent amount of beads in her hair, unlike Delu, all of them arrayed in bright colors. Some of them even chimed, giving Alake's motions a musical lilt to them, like she was choreographing for a song.
But it was obvious that she hadn't warmed up to her much. Well, like Grundle wanted to deal with someone so serious.
Much of Grundle's time was adjusting to her new home. After her parents finally boarded their submersible, she felt a bit more isolated than she expected. The elves were kind to her, although their dinnertimes ranged through two or more signes, making her stomach adapt to when she could expect food between the courses. She didn't get a room beneath the castle like she hoped, but they did assign her a place on the ground floor. The waves outside her window were soothing, though in the end, it only made her aware of just how far the ocean stretched to where her homeland of Gargan was.
Still, the past two months were uneventful, if aggravating. Mostly greeting others that she passed by the hallways, long dinners with Eliason, and her own musings on when she could go home. Then came her first writing lesson.
When Sabia's duenna announced when it would take place, she couldn't help but grimace. "Dwarves don't need to write. We can memorize everything in our heads. You shouldn't underestimate our memory."
Alake had turned to her in reproach. "A leader needs to learn as much as they can, so that they can meet whatever issues come their way. Writing should be a basic necessity."
"For the forgetful, sure, I can see that. Besides, I doubt any amount of learning won't help me read your chicken-scratch."
"Wha- Have you been looking through my spell books again?!"
She was really getting tired of these constant arguments with Alake. Or 'disagreements' as Alake would correct. It didn't matter what term she used- it was the same thing! She shrugged off the human's outburst. "I thought a leader should also remember to learn her manners."
Alake clasped her hands, calming herself down, even though her bracelets still jangled from her barely constrained anger. Sabia, standing in the middle with them, looked to both dwarf and human, and sighed. It was rare when the human and dwarf could be in the same room with each other and not start a fight.
"Be careful where you throw that axe!" Alake had shouted once. "You could have chopped my head off."
"Where else can I practice? Go do your weird grunting somewhere else!"
"It's called incantations! I need to practice my things too! You shouldn't even be seeing such mystic arts."
"If you call setting a tiny tablecloth on fire 'mystic,' then magic must be less amazing than I thought."
The three future leaders were not starting off well. Much of it ended with yelling, taunts, and shut doors- at least with Alake and Grundle by themselves. Sabia could negotiate with them just as well as the rest of her people. "You could take turns using this practice room…" No one smiled still, but it was better than another argument.
The lessons didn't help much either. It had been Sabia's own personal tutor who taught them; an elf with a powdered face, wearing some intimidating lens. Despite his sharp face, he was apparently just a big softy according to Sabia. "He's the one who taught me how to make chocolate cupcakes."
"Well, he can't be all bad," Grundle had commented while eating said cupcake.
Alake groaned. "Don't talk like that."
For their lessons, they all had to sit in high-backed chairs, rigid in their posture, tall enough to have Grundle's feet swaying from the bottom. Even when provided with cushions, the dwarf couldn't get herself comfortable, shifting around to find at least a degree of it. Alake, despite her people sitting on their knees all day long in their huts, perched on her own chair as if she had done so her entire life, mimicking Sabia much too well.
They, of course, learned the elvish alphabet first, teaching the human and dwarf all of its intricacies and design, while allowing Sabia to simply refine her penmanship. They all shared a long table to write their parchments on- apparently a piece of furniture that was much sought after, for it was crafted from the rare seaglass. Grundle learned that the elvish artisans had to harvest the salt and minerals from the Goodsea to put it together, using their magical instruments to well the tiny fragments together into wondrous designs. She had learned more about this table, which she had heard in passing by one of Sabia's many handmaidens, than the lessons that she was receiving. At times, she would brush her thumb against its surface, trying not to be impressed, before the tutor brought her back to the matter at hand.
Her letters were crude, sharply angled, and uneven in their form.
"So who is the one who writes chicken-scratch?" Alake once commented, never missing a stroke in her own writing.
The lessons only gave Grundle ink-stained fingers, sore hands, and a bitter mood. The feather quill, always plucked from the dazzling swans that fluttered near the Grotto's fountain, would be wringed to near obliteration.
The tutor was no real help. He had a thick accent, and even though she knew how to speak and understand the language of the Elmas, she could barely catch a comprehensible word from him. The most learning she ever got from him was when he shook his head at a sentence she wrote down and motioned for her to try again. Which was every single time.
Sabia, who was a sweet girl, at the very least tried.
"The word for ocean is liyadi. You wrote the first part of it right, but the next is all one line."
"Li…ya… wait, how many swirls does it really need?"
"That's just how it reads though. Oh, see? You already have it. Now try a sentence like, 'The dolphins play in the ocean.' …No, kreakah should go before yunma."
"Wait, what does yunma mean now?!"
Headaches were a daily occurrence. But Grundle was as stubborn as the rest of her people, perhaps even more than usual. Though she disdained writing, not seeing why there was a need to sprawl confusing lines on paper when just saying it with your mouth was good enough, she didn't want to disappoint her parents. They expected her to learn much about their allies and their strange ways, and she would, no matter how much she disliked it.
One night, she had taken one of the tutor's inkpots, along with several rolls of parchment to her room, (when the elf was too busy frosting a cake to Sabia's delight). She had a small desk, made of reliable wood, its surface polished so well that it would always blind her eyes when the ever-moving seasun rose through the water. She also had with her a children's primer, one meant for young elvish kids. It was Sabia's own book, and she figured that the elven princess wouldn't mind her borrowing.
Three signes passed before she was ready to give up, at least for the night. Crumpled paper lay discarded on the floor, and the one she was writing on was littered with crossed-out lines and confusing sentence fragments. Even she could see that she hadn't made much progress.
"Chicken-scratch," she muttered.
A soft knock startled her from her self-imposed lesson. It hadn't been just the sound- few came here. There had been servants before, offering to help her dress or go through her daily ablutions. But she had been taught self-reliance, that and the thought of a random elf woman seeing her form was too strange for her.
"Come in?"
She heard the clinking of bells before Alake opened the door.
"You missed dinner."
The mention of food was enough to make Grundle's stomach growl. Sometimes elf cuisine was much too rich for her taste, but a full belly would not complain. She usually didn't neglect to miss the castle's dinners, no matter how long the periods in-between their courses seemed to last.
Alake lifted up small cloth held in her hand, wrapped over a bundle. "I figured you would be hungry, so I brought you some."
Of course, she was suspicious. "It's not nuts and berries, is it?"
It was one of the few times Grundle regretted her bluntness. She was much too hungry to start picking a fight.
Alake frowned, turned to leave. "I'm sorry then for being so concerned."
"Wait," Grundle called out to her. "I should apologize." She tried to wipe away the dark mess on her hands, succeeding in only staining her dress. "You didn't need to do that for me."
The human princess considered her words, still half-turned in the hallway. Grundle herself was surprised when she walked into her room, bare feet padding against the floor.
"I know that starving is not at all fun," she said as she set the bundle on her desk. Alake had occasionally missed a few dinners, not used to when it would take place in mid-afternoon. (Just like humans to go their own way). She was only saved from hunger with Sabia's desserts, which the elf girl kept an assortment of in a case in her room. "And I know you don't like the sweet stuff."
The meal was small, but still mostly satisfying. The goose was cooked to perfection, dressed in orange sauce, arrayed with cutlets of peach slices and greens. Grundle made sure to avoid the green part of her plate. Alake took a spare chair from the corner and seated herself.
"I didn't think you even knew where I was," Grundle commented, making sure to swallow her portion before speaking.
"I asked one of the servants. It took longer to find you than I thought. I think another hallway down here was closed off recently."
Great. That meant she would have to pack up her things and move to another location, as Sabia had warned. It was good that she didn't bring much.
She saw Alake stare at her handiwork on the desk, papers crinkled or even torn through in her efforts.
Grundle suddenly felt embarrassed. "I was practicing."
Alake actually smiled then. "I think the tutor would've been better off as a baker, wouldn't he?"
As a joke, it was an obvious one to make. Still, Grundle hadn't heard the Chieftain's daughter so much as crack a pun the past few weeks. Her lips quirked. "He seemed to have taught you well enough."
"I… learned a bit of elvish writing from my mother back on Phondra. She taught me the basics."
"Oh." Grundle raised an eyebrow. "I guess you're just lucky."
Things got awkward as she finished up her meal. Her time in the elven court taught her about proper etiquette, especially when a high table sported no frothy ale in sight and no one was expected participate in a steak-eating contest to wind down the night. She carefully placed the fork and knife on the plate, trying to meticulously not clink it against the porcelain too much. Then she heard a giggle.
She turned, finding Alake making such a sound, lips curled in a smile.
All right. This was just strange.
"What's so funny?"
Alake, still laughing, pointed at the utensils. "I can't get used to that either."
Grundle looked down at her plate. "…Eating?"
"No…" Alake still kept her smile. So she did have a humor. "The first time I've ever held a fork was my first day here."
That would explain why she kept dropping it on the table then.
"If these were made of thick iron, I wouldn't have much trouble." Grundle poked at the fork. "I swear, every time I handle one of these thin things, I'm afraid I'm gonna tear it apart."
Alake kept laughing. It was a rather pretty sound, like the bells in her hair. Grundle laughed too.
The human girl wiped at her eyes, turning her attention back to the crumpled pages. "You know, Grundle, if you don't mind, I could teach you."
If she was actually offering her help, then she must have been dreaming. "Are you serious? I mean, not to be rude, but… really?"
Alake blinked. "As future allies, we should learn to help each other out, don't you think?"
"Huh." Grundle tilted her head. "That make sense."
"Here, for starters," she took hold of the pen, straightening up the feather, "you need to hold it like this, just between your forefinger and thumb. Then your words won't look so cramped."
The dwarf nursed her aching hand, content to let Alake take over. "If I could just write about dolphins, I should be good."
Alake looked at the sentence Grundle had been attempting to write, jotting down her own version beneath it, switching words between each other, her script neat and even. "I'm sure… well, I know you have more to say than that."
"Of course. We all do." Grundle shrugged. "I just don't see why we can't just actually say it instead of writing it down on paper. Doesn't it just take up more of your time?"
Alake tilted her head, suddenly more pensive than usual. "Well, sometimes it's just easier to say what you mean this way. Writing gives you time, helps you organize your thoughts. And you can even say things that you can't ever say out loud."
"Sounds like a hassle."
"I suppose it's not for everyone." She handed the quill over to Grundle. "But it is useful for royal documents and treaties- my mother says having everything in writing is always good for records."
"That could all be solved if you all just worked on your memorization." But she took the quill, careful not to ruffle the delicate feather. "Isn't that what you magic-users do, anyway?"
"More or less." Alake pointed down at the paper. "You have the words right, but they're arranged incorrectly. Don't make it so literal. Liyadi should be the first in the sentence."
Grundle tolerated the lessons in the beginning. She was already getting quite tired, and the goose had only made her eyes heavy. But Alake spoke clearly, guided Grundle's hand to better comprehensibility. She wasn't such a bad teacher really.
Suddenly she wondered. "That thing about organizing your thoughts. Is that what you do in your Coven?"
Despite Alake's repeated attempts that all of her magic was sworn to secrecy, she actually answered.
"Only when I used to write in my journals."
"Oh," Grundle answered, and the lesson continued.
Dumaka, her father, had given her one piece of advice before he left. "Make peace with everyone here, for they will be your allies for the rest of your life."
Alake admitted to herself that she didn't take his advice fully to heart at first. Sabia was such a young child, if sweet. Her eyes lighted up at the most simplest things; her valuable toys, her self-playing harp that knew ten different legendary serenades, and her betrothed, Devon. She was a coddled girl, and even though Alake didn't dislike her, she couldn't really respect her. But Grundle was another story. Rude, blunt in her words, always snooping around her belongings. Her people's lack of magic made her suspicious, as well as made her not have the same correct reverence that one should have over the gifts provided by the One.
Then she saw Grundle having trouble with her lessons. She should've felt smug over it (and she was, admittedly) but she realized that a dwarf queen who couldn't read a royal summons would be very inconvenient for all of them. That was the only reason she offered to help her out- as she had planned to do so. The food had been a peace offering.
And then she was growing to like her.
Their private lessons continued- lasting a signe or two after dinner as Alake, having realized that Grundle's grasp on the elven language was really quite basic, began re-teaching her the alphabet. And surprisingly, the dwarf was a quick learner. She even shocked their tutor, who now just nodded at the sentences she wrote instead of shaking his head. After the flowery language, learning human was much easier.
At the very least, they weren't having as much fights anymore. Sabia had noticed.
"I think we should all go for a trip," she told the other two girls one day. She wore a light blue robe put on by her duenna. It was cinched around the waist, decorated with even fragments of seashells just above the hem, etched into the fabric so that they wouldn't hit against each other. "We can have a picnic on the beach!"
Grundle made a face. "I'm not really fond of sand in my shoes."
"Then just don't wear shoes," Alake had suggested. "You won't need them on the shore."
"And what if we get sand in our food?"
"You shouldn't need to worry about that," Sabia said. "Marabella is going to bring us a net that will ward off any sand or bugs near us."
"Could be fun." Alake smiled. Grundle mumbled something in her tongue, though she didn't sound like she was altogether rejecting the idea.
"Oh, it will! I've really been wanting to properly introduce Devon to you two for a while."
Alake paused. "Devon's coming?"
"Yes. He suggested such an idea in the first place!"
They actually took such a trip later that day, when the water around them was a clear blue, matching Sabia's dress. Besides the three princesses, there came a retinue of five handmaidens, one bard, two servants, and Sabia's duenna. There was a flurry of activity of them laying out the tablecloth (complete with frills), and setting up posts for where the net would protect them and their food from unwanted visitors.
"I guess parade and picnic means the same to them," Grundle had mumbled to Alake, carrying her boots.
Devon arrived not too much later, bringing with him his own retinue- nothing less for a prince. And of course, he brought a gift for his lovely future wife as well.
"They say this lute once belonged to the famous hero, Elantha," he said, holding up the wooden instrument, its polished reflecting the light. The breeze from the water blew against its strings, evoking a small, faint hum. "Only those skilled should be allowed to have it."
Sabia, a lover of many stringed instruments, accepted the gift graciously, flushing properly toward Devon. "Thank you, dear heart. This is so very wonderful, more than I could ever expect."
Alake, suddenly feeling a bit sour, slipped herself away. Easy enough to do when all eyes were on the royal elven couple. Public proclamations of love and devotion were both often and expected. She had seen no less then twenty such displays on her first month in Elmas. And Sabia looked like she was getting all the attention she wanted anyway.
She made her way over to the shore, watching the waves crash rhythmically. Her eyes were drawn to the liquid wall surrounding the air bubble of their seamoon. Creatures of the sea were plentiful, though it was difficult to pinpoint them in the area above, most of them preferring to reside underneath the seamoons. But Alake caught a familiar shape, bobbing through the dark water, already angling its way toward the water that aligned with the shore.
The dolphins would never miss a royal picnic (or parade).
She knelt on the sand, whispering little chants underneath her breath. Her head bobbed, making the bells in her hair chime in motion. It was a simple summons that her people had for the dolphins, the gossip-mongers of the sea, acceptable to perform in front of the uninitiated. It was made to attract the attention of those close-by, instead of the more complicated spell where it would travel across many leagues. She even made little chirrups and squeaks, enunciating the dolphin's language convincingly.
It wasn't long before she heard Grundle approach before she spoke. The huffing of her breath and her heavy footfalls in the sand gave her away too well. "Don't tell me you have a spell for turning into a fish?"
Alake stopped, turned to glare. "Why are you always snooping around?"
"I was only wondering what you were doing. You do know the picnic is back over there." Grundle pointed, where now the elven bard played a flute to the delight of everyone.
A splash erupted on the water then. Chirps, like the one Alake had mimicked, echoed across the waves.
"We heard you call…"
"It's the princesses!…"
"Do you have food for us?…"
Six dolphins swam toward the shore as close as they could, making excited sounds, commenting on Alake's appearance, and on her ear-jangles in particular. She stood up, slowly walked into the water. "Hello, friends," she greeted, speaking their tongue. "I wanted to ask you something…"
"Is that the elven princess there?…"
"A lovely dress she has…"
"Does this mean the puffed sleeves are out of style?…"
"A new look for the next ball!…"
"Wait," Alake tried to halt their gossiping. But dolphins were always prone to getting carried away. One of them even tried to swim off, squealing at the elven picnic, and managed to catch some attention. "Please, I only wanted to ask about my home…"
"Do they have a seven-stringed lute?…"
"It's the legendary one, isn't it?…"
"Oh, they have cooked fish!…"
"Could you please listen to me?" Alake said, her words now more harsh. A dolphin or two looked at her in contrite, bowing their heads for her forgiveness. The rest were still distracted at the gaudy picnic display.
"Alake," Grundle said, coming up to her. She slogged through the water slowly, which for her was up to her thighs. Since dwarves sank like stones in the ocean, it wasn't hard to see why she was suddenly looking a bit nervous. "You're making really angry chirping sounds and it's worrying me."
Alake faced her, expecting to find a hint of smugness, instead only seeing actual concern in Grundle's eyes. (And maybe a bit of green). She let out a sigh. "I only wanted to ask them something."
"About what?"
She looked away. Why was she feeling so self-conscious now? "My parents. That's all."
"And these fish would know?"
"These 'fish' always get involved in our people's affairs. If there was anything new happening back on Phondra, then yes, they would know."
Grundle looked at the dolphins, their snouts forever stretched into a smile, spraying water from the top of their heads. "My father never liked talking to these fish."
"I did not ask for your opinion."
"I thought we got past your grumpy stage," Grundle said, grinning at her. "You don't need to be so serious all the time."
Three months ago, such a phrase would've made Alake turn her head, not deigning to give the dwarf maid an answer. Instead, she felt her lips quirk.
The dolphins, for some reason, started to grow excited again, began splashing at the two girls.
"If I give you a fish, will you then listen to me?" Alake negotiated, once again in dolphin-speak.
"Are they cooking flounder?…"
"Just a little morsel would be plenty…"
"I must know who made that dress!…"
Alake nodded, ignoring the unnecessary information. She looked back to the picnic gathering, then out to the ocean. "Grundle, would you mind if you could grab me a piece of fish?"
The dwarf was about to ask if Alake had lost the use of her legs, but she stopped herself, her eyes boring into the human's back. Alake kept her eyes on the dolphins, speaking to them much more gently now, petting their heads.
Grundle didn't take long in getting what she needed. A thoroughly grilled piece of flounder that Alake divided into equal bits for the dolphins. She chucked them at the water, the dolphins catching them effortlessly, squealing happily.
"Do you not like Devon?"
Alake paused in mid-throw for the last piece, then resumed. "I never said that."
"You didn't look too happy when Sabia mentioned he was coming."
She noticed? Alake thought she had hid her disappointment well enough, but the dwarf was more observant than she thought. Unconsciously, she twisted around the many bracelets she wore on her wrists. "Devon is fine. But… we are supposed to be learning more from each other, and I think he distracts Sabia too much to let her do so."
"She does talk about him a lot…"
"Exactly! And haven't you noticed how childish he can be sometimes? Always asking for her attention, even when we are all together. If he was a human, he would be just like the other warriors and their fake bravado, bragging about their most recent hunt to get the girl of his heart."
Grundle tilted her head, considering her words. She looked like she considered them very carefully. "Maybe it's just how most elves are, but he reminds me so much of Sabia. They both get quite excited over the littlest things, especially if it concerns each other."
"Still," Alake argued. "A prince must learn one day to stop acting like such a young boy."
"I'm assuming you don't have a betrothed yourself?"
Alake knew that this was a much more private question, but she felt no apprehension in answering it. "No. My parents have not decided one as of yet. Though there have been boys who keep asking for my hand."
"I do," Grundle said. Alake figured she must have been quite easy to read, for the dwarf then explained herself. "Well, not technically. He would also have to win my hand through certain tests, but he will, of that I have no doubt."
Alake was having trouble finding an answer, so the dwarf continued. "Love can be a strange thing. My father once tried pushing the biggest boulder for my mother. Nearly broke his back. But I always manage to keep my head on my shoulders."
Alake stared at the dwarf who only reached up to her waist, smiling pleasantly. "I am thankful for that."
"Now let's just hope it goes the same for you," Grundle teased.
Alake acted in mock anger, splashing some water. "Certainly not the boys in my village!"
"Now you got my dress wet!" Grundle complained, but she was laughing, returning the favor to Alake.
The dolphins chirruped even more after this spectacle.
"We always said the water was more fun!…"
"You should swim with us…"
"I'm sure that dwarves can swim…"
"Do you have any more food to spare?…"
Alake, calming down her mirth, turned to the dolphins, clucking in their tongue. "You promised me news of my parents?"
"Oh yes! The Chieftain Dumaka has met with Chief Elak…"
"About the terms over their shared hunting grounds…"
"We don't see why they can't just fish more often…"
"And Delu has accepted another initiate in the Coven…"
"Her dark cape is really quite lovely…"
Grundle tugged on Alake's arm, gesturing back to the beach. "Looks like they're coming."
Sabia, in the dress that the dolphins so greatly admired, walked hand-in-hand with Devon. No, he was not really someone Alake thought was mature enough for his role, but he was kind, and perhaps that should count for something. She briefly imagined Grundle doing the same with another dwarf, one with a heavy beard, in boots just like her own. It was amusing to imagine, so she wasn't sure why she felt a little sad about it.
"Will you be alright?" Grundle asked her. She would need to be more adept at masking her face then.
"I'm fine," Alake said, brushing back her braided hair. "I just hope those two brought more fish along with them."
After seven months, the royal family convened together in Elmas once more.
The princesses greeted their parents with hugs and tears, Grundle going so far as to nearly tackle her father back into the submersible. The parents asked them on their time with the elves, hoping for good things, glad when they heard that was just so.
Then the rulers wanted to talk with each other in a friendly meeting, one that Eliason suggested, which was when they moved out of their daughter's arms. Perhaps a small dinner, for the girls had a hefty lunch just before and the time was already nearing night.
Grundle was the first to suspect the meeting was something more than just a friendly reunion. She noticed Eliason was chatting with more elven servants than usual, those she knew that had helped move her things on her first arrival. Nothing too out of the ordinary really, but she couldn't help her curiosity.
So she immediately told Alake about it.
"I've tried asking my father what was going on," Grundle said. "But he keeps not saying much, just complaining on how his belly was rumbling and he needed some food first."
"Is that normal for him?" Alake asked.
"Yes. He always complains about food." Grundle shrugged. "But something's up though, I can tell."
"You…don't think he's angry with my father?" Sabia was with them, not wanting another conflict after so many months of fun and peace. Grundle and Alake didn't even fight over the practice room anymore! Sabia had all but nearly celebrated when she found out.
"I doubt it's anything like that. If it was, we would never be here in the first place." Alake crossed her arms, head bowed in thought. "If they won't tell us though, we should still hear what they have to say."
The dwarf raised an eyebrow. "And how do we do that?"
Alake then explained her plan.
Grundle stared, while Sabia suddenly became skittish. "But… we shouldn't be spying. That would be wrong."
"Once we're older, we will be convening with each other, having meetings with many officials and much more. We are heirs to our respective kingdoms. We have a right to know what they are discussing."
Grundle looked like she was smiling. "And you call me a snoop."
Alake coughed. "…I have asked to sit in on such meetings before, back in Phondra, but my father never let me." She faced Sabia fully. "Besides, it will only be a peek and not much more. Our parents will never find out."
Sabia twisted the delicate sleeves of her new dress nervously. "I never keep anything from my father…"
"But aren't you the least bit curious?" Grundle backed up. She stood next to Alake now, hands on her hips. "Hey, if we just look for five minutes, and you still don't want to anymore, then we'll stop. Right, Alake?"
Seeing this opportunity, the human nodded. "We'll even help feed those new birds you've gotten."
Sabia had to tear her hands away before she made a rip in the fabric, but she looked at the two, and relented. "Okay. But just for a little bit!"
The elf girl was also able to help them find out just where the meeting would take place. The terrace looked out over the Goodsea, hanging just above the rocks where the waves crashed against. The coral reflected the light in a splendid way, its space able to fit over twice a dozen people. It was the perfect place for Eliason to host his guests for a meal.
Sabia's room faced the seawater along with the terrace. The wall on the right side provided a convenient way for them to stay hidden. With a whispered chant, Alake was able to widen three holes in the coral, providing them an outlook on their parents.
"I have a feeling you've done this before," Grundle commented. She stood on her tip-toes to see through the hole made for her. "A lot."
"Shh. They're talking."
There were a lot of formalities done, Eliason's own that were always so flourished and taking up the most time. There were also inquiries into other royal affairs ("The eastern tribe still giving you some trouble, eh Dumaka?" Yngvar would say in a bellow) along with a jab or two from old prejudices ("No, Hilda, the Coven does not endorse ritual sacrifices…anymore.")
They were well into their first course a signe later before anything interesting was being discussed. Sabia herself was too curious to further disprove the idea of their spying, although both Alake's and Grundle's legs were hurting.
"Do you mind handing me a stool?" the dwarf asked. "Or at least making this hole better-placed?"
Alake waved her voice away while Sabia decided to follow through on her request.
"Has Grundle been behaving well?" spoke the Vater, holding the elven-made utensils just as awkwardly as the princess had. "I know how sharp her tongue can be, but we hope she has learned some courtesy."
"I have heard no complaints from Sabia," spoke Eliason. "She seems delighted with her, and with Alake too." He gave a nod to the humans. "I wish both of them could stay longer."
Delu sipped at her glass. "It would only be for a short while- a month at most. Alake still has a few spells to learn at the Coven so that she can move up. We promise to have her back."
"I would hope that your girl's throwing arm hasn't gotten rusty," Dumaka teased, laughing as Yngvar snorted.
Sabia gave a little squeal of dismay, so high-pitched that Grundle slipped off her stool in surprise. Alake had already shut the holes back to minute size.
"Do you both really have to go?" Her eyes were already welling up with tears. "It just won't be the same anymore!"
"It's only for a month," Grundle said as she got up to her feet. "It'll seem like no time has passed."
Alake took Sabia's hand in gentle comfort. "If you like, I can send the dolphins to you to tell you what's happening back home."
"Oh, that would be wonderful!"
Grundle had never thought of herself as a perceptive kind of person. But perhaps she was, because Sabia didn't seem to catch the signs on Alake's face. A faint glimmer in her eye, the downward turn of her lips before she forced them back up again. Sabia may have been the one crying just now, but it was Alake who was truly sad.
"Come. Let's have one of your desserts." Alake tugged at Sabia's hand. "If it's alright with your duenna, we can even have a sleepover in your room like you always wanted."
Considering that Alake usually didn't like leaving her valuable scrolls in her room for very long, Grundle thought this was very strange indeed.
"Of course! I just received a sample of strawberry cheesecake from the chef that you simply must try!"
Though the prospect of a new dessert was too hard to pass up (spend enough time with Elmasians, and even the most stubborn will grow a sweet tooth) she thought she would keep an eye on Alake. Just to be sure.
The advantage of being barefoot was that it was easy for her to sneak around.
Dumaka would often joke that his daughter would make a valuable tracker if her time wasn't devoted to her magic studies. Ever since she was small, she would tiptoe around the huts, moving from one place to another in secrecy, which made her the best player in hide-and-seek as she forever moved around. That was also how she would come to spy on her parent's meeting in the longhouse, before she was taught the spells.
Alake had taken off her beads just before bedtime along with her bracelets, a small ritual she had always done. So no tell-tale chime announced her movements when she left her bedspread from the floor. She even opened the door out of Sabia's room in quiet manner. Neither forms, Sabia on her bed, or Grundle on the floor beside her, made a move.
She knew the fountain was in the middle of the Grotto, or at least it was supposed to be. It had only been a few cycles since another hallway had grown in around Sabia's side of the castle, but Alake learned to recognize the familiar shapes of the coral she passed, as well as the growths her feet would hit sometimes. She also knew that this hallway should lead her to the general direction of the fountain at least.
It didn't take long for her to find it; it was a beautiful example of Elmas architecture. Coral that had been dyed in rose-petal hues made up its surface. Fanciful creatures lined around its sides from sea-elves with a fish tail for legs to the many-tentacled denizens of the deep. Fresh water spurted from the middle, raining down in three arches. The Grotto's roof at this section was open, one of the few things the elves controlled over the coral, so that one could see the water sky. Alake had liked the look of it, and had sometimes came here during the first few nights when she had first arrived at this strange seamoon populated with their pointy-eared citizens.
The swans that would sometimes crowd around the fountain were not here this night, as they weren't at most nights. She sat on the floor, laying her back against the fountain and stared up, watching the ripples of the water. The spray of the fountain hit against her hair.
She had no reason to be upset. But she was. She was to be going home, back to learn more of her spells, back to become a great sorceress like her mother, where she could one day break open the ground at a word or bend the waves motion to her will. She was another step closer to achieving her potential, to become the greatest ruler Phondra had ever known.
She really had no reason to be upset.
"Can't sleep?"
Alake jumped at the sound, turned to find Grundle standing beside her, dressed in her nightgown.
"How did-?"
"I was still awake." Grundle shrugged. "Couldn't sleep either. Although, it's kinda weird you didn't hear me first."
It was. The dwarf couldn't make her way past a noisy kitchen without at least one server turning his head. Alake berated herself for her distraction.
"Still, how did you find me?" She knew Grundle had just as much trouble with the castle's layouts.
"I followed the trail you left." Grundle pointed at her feet. "You're bleeding."
Alake looked down, seeing a fresh spot of blood on her heel. It wasn't deep, just barely enough for her body to register the pain, though a bit of blood had already begun to pool around her foot. She figured she must have hit a sharp part of the coral without thinking.
Grundle knelt beside her. "Here." She had in her hand a piece of clothing- her shirt. She ripped off a sleeve.
"Oh, you shouldn't."
"No worries. It's old. Barely wear it anymore." She smiled. "And it's clean too." She wrapped it around the foot, not as skilled as some nurses could, but she did an admirable job.
"I do have spells and poultices that would help with it."
"But not with you." Grundle sat down beside her, legs stretched out. "You don't have your pouches."
Alake smiled in turn. "That's true."
"Maybe you should start wearing sandals around here. Just a thought." The dwarf looked over at the water sky, silent for a moment. "But I guess you don't need to just yet."
Both girls continued their gaze above in silence. Alake watched the small movements, still so far off, the water passing and pressing against the air bubble given off by the seamoon. There would sometimes be a flicker here or there, of a creature swimming through the ocean, sometimes pausing in its path. Perhaps it was confused by the air bubble blocking its way, not seeing why it couldn't just slip through it. Alake was reminded of a fishbowl she once had when she was little, tapping a finger against the glass, unsure as to how the water and the occupants it held stayed the way it was.
That was a really childish thought.
"If something's bothering you," Grundle spoke, her voice a touch lower. "You know you can tell me."
Alake made a motion to twist her bracelet around her wrist before realizing it wasn't there. "I was getting used to being here."
Grundle shifted a little closer, careful to not let any of the protrusions from the coral fountain tear at her gown. "Well, it's not like we're going away forever."
"I know." Alake pulled her knees close, hugging them. "So I don't understand."
"It's okay to miss things."
"I know that."
The dwarf laughed. "Sabia does kinda grow on you, doesn't she?"
Alake paused. "Yes."
The silence lasted longer this time. Elmas was a place with few guards walking the area, and fewer dangers, creating perfect solitude. There were no bonfires to light the dusk, or jungle cats prowling the grounds. A perfectly languid place for those wishing to stay in one moment in time. Alake, needing herself to move and advance in her own betterment, wasn't used to it.
"I'll miss you too, Alake."
Alake blinked, finding the dwarf staring at her. She was stubby compared to any human girl, her ears pointed like an elf, but her side whiskers decorating her face was like Sabia's fair hair. She had bright eyes and an easy smile, and even her blunt voice wasn't bad to listen to. Alake knew that, with her people, Grundle was considered quite beautiful.
"You will?"
"Sure. You're not all that bad really."
Alake made a frown, playfully swapping Grundle's shoulder. But she couldn't keep down her smile. "I'll miss you too."
She reflexively brushed back a strand of hair Grundle's face, but the dwarf didn't seem to notice.
"How about we make a promise then?" Grundle said. "Once we come back, we'll meet right here at this fountain. I mean, if it's not missing by then."
Alake nodded. "Yes, that sounds great. We should probably tell Sabia too."
"And maybe we can convince her to leave her handmaidens behind."
Both giggled, their bodies facing each other. They had reached out to the other's hands, squeezing tightly as if to strengthen the bond they had made. Alake hadn't really done this with anyone, even back home, and when Sabia had grasped her hands, it was never with such tightness. The closest Alake ever had to this was playing with the children before she grew older, before she was invited into the Coven, before she arrayed herself in beads and chimes.
Grundle was chatting about Sabia's birds, wondering if the girl wouldn't suddenly be inspired to walk them around the castle to their meeting spot, when Alake leaned forward and hugged her.
Grundle nearly choked on her breath. "Um. Alake?"
The human girl shut her eyes. "I really will miss you."
She felt hands patting her back awkwardly, a voice clearing her throat. "I will too."
Alake leaned back, grateful and embarrassed. It was not exactly a proper way for future rulers to greet with each other. She'd seen her father lay a hand on Eliason's shoulder, or her mother greet Delu by clasping each other's hands. But she knew that before, a human would have gladly swung a bladed staff at a dwarf during another scuffle, so the affection was good. A hug should be even better, shouldn't it?
She decided to give Alake a kiss then. On the forehead. A small, sisterly affection, though it made her heart wring for a strange reason.
And she wasn't worried, because Grundle still sat before her, still near. Her face was red, and she was mumbling about how her own height would make her attempt of such an action be more than difficult. But they laughed, embraced more, and eventually let the tears fall.
Throughout the months, she had been practicing. If there was one thing about Grundle, it was her stubbornness. She hadn't given up on her ax-throwing when she would miss her aim and nearly lodged it out of a window, and she wouldn't give up on her writing. With Alake, she etched out every consonant, learned every meaning until she became more than adequate.
The day she was about to leave for Gargan, she had gone to her room, sat on her desk and wrote on one of her many blank pages in Phondrian. She held the pen carefully in her hand, the way Alake taught her, trying to organize the thoughts in her head, trying to put down the words she could not say aloud.
Alake,
There are many things I've learned while I was here. Most of all, the right way to pet a cat, the best frosting to put on chocolate cake, and that certain elven instruments can only be handled by expensive, strangely made feather dusters to prevent any lasting damage. You can blame Sabia for all of that.
I've also learned that I can be harsh sometimes. Okay, most of the time. And that when you say to not touch a scroll, that I should probably listen.
I've argued with cousins, nieces, and so many others before. I am harsh, even for my own, and even though you can't throw an axe, you throw your words just as skillfully.
Is this what you once called a metaphor? I don't think that's right, but I guess I still have a ways to go.
But I've never shared such a moment with anyone else, not even Hartmut. (Another dwarf, if you didn't know). And it was a nice moment that I hope to share again. You've become important to me, Alake. More than any other friend.
My father is calling for me. He must be about to tear out his beard from the sounds of it.
See you at the fountain.
-Grundle
She folded the paper, hid it in her pocket dress and hurriedly left the room. Before she boarded the submersible, she placed it in one of Alake's many pouches, done when she hugged the girl farewell. She was getting good at being sneaky too.
She just hoped Alake could read her messy handwriting.