37. Rhunön's Assistant

Breakfast the next morning was nothing like the lively affair the group was used to. After he finished eating, Nefin stood and asked Gerik if he would walk with him to Rhunön's.

Gerik reluctantly agreed, joining Nefin after clearing his place at the table. Nefin didn't waste any time, as he was sure Gerik wouldn't appreciate walking in silence next to him.

"Gerik, I'm really sorry about what happened. I accept full responsibility. I know how much you care for Keeta and that you're just as worried about her being alone as I am." He sighed and glanced down at the dwarf, who stonily stared ahead.

Nefin continued, "I have no clue why she started fancying me—"

Gerik snorted and bitterly interrupted, "Because you're as pretty as every other elf?"

Nefin grimaced. "I can't help the way I look. Well, I could, but unlike some elves, I haven't done anything to change my appearance. Besides, I don't know if that's it. Keeta has told me she thinks I'm handsome, but we've been friends our whole lives, much like you. I'm sure that opinion only developed more recently. Why would it have mattered when we were younger?"

Gerik muttered something unintelligible, which made Nefin think it really wasn't a coherent word. Otherwise he would have heard. He carried on his previous train of thought with, "I really don't know what she sees in me. Up until last year, I tried to ignore all evidence that suggested she was coming to care for me as more than a friend. Which is why I feel more than ever before how little I really deserve her."

"Got that right," Gerik darkly stated.

"I couldn't agree more. But in Tronjheim I . . . I changed my mind, I guess. And started to realize what an honor it is to have Keeta fancy me."

Nefin took a deep breath. "I'll just get right to the point. I know how little you want to be hearing this right now. If Keeta ever gets to a place of being able to forgive me and move on, I'm going to pursue her. I love her, and I'm sure it rankles you to no end to hear that. But this is what I really want to say. If she never gets to that point, and I don't expect her to, then I would leave her alone. And I hope if that happens that she would choose you. From what I have been able to learn and see, you're a very good man, a good friend to Keeta, and sensible and wise. And you've never hurt her. There's no question in my mind that you would take care of her and make her happy."

"Thank you for your blessing, Master Elf," Gerik sarcastically mocked. "I already knew all that."

Nefin didn't look down. He knew Gerik wasn't looking at him. "I guess all I would ask is that if, by some miracle, Keeta did choose me, you would give me . . . her . . . us. . . . That you would be favorable to it in the same way I'm promising to be."

"I'm not making any promises," Gerik retorted.

"Fine. But please be open to it. For some unknown reason, Keeta eventually saw something in me worthy of admiring. Maybe it's really there. Maybe we could learn to be friends too. You and I. We already know we have some big things in common. Our order and calling as Dragon Riders, for one. Our love for Keeta, for another. We both want her to be happy. And she would surely prefer for us to get along, rather than constantly be at odds or competing over her."

"Have you ever heard of a single successful relationship between an elf and dwarf?" Gerik asked with a healthy dose of skepticism. "Or any romantic relationship, for that matter?"

"Only one. The woman we all talk about who visits us in our birthday dreams—Angela—her parents were a male dwarf and female elf." He looked down in time to notice Gerik's eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"That's . . . hard . . . to believe."

"Yes, it is," Nefin allowed. "But true nonetheless. I'll tell you their story, if you would like."

"Maybe another time," Gerik said, and Nefin noticed that he was trying to suppress his curiosity. "But I'm interested in all that birthday dream stuff. If you ten are all being prepared to face something big, would any of the other Dragon Riders be able to help? Your group seems really exclusive. It's hard to get a foot in."

Nefin smiled mirthlessly. "I can see how it would seem that way. That it probably is that way. I really don't know how to answer your question. We have no idea what this big thing is, so I can't tell you whether any besides us ten will be a part of it."

"Have you ever thought that it all might just be a sham? That nothing big is going to happen, that you're all reading way too much into these dreams you're having?"

Nefin looked down again to make sure Gerik was being sincere. Then, when he saw that was the case, he answered, "No, I don't believe any of us ever has. That all ten of us have each seen Angela in a dream every year on our birthdays for the past almost thirteen years—for the oldest ones—doesn't seem like a coincidence to me. But if you want to believe that, feel free. I'm an elf who has faith and believes in higher powers, unlike the vast majority of my race. The Dragon Riders are accepting of all various spiritual beliefs. Or lack thereof."

"Well, how about a different subject altogether, then?" Gerik said. "Why did you offer to help make my axe?"

Nefin shrugged. "Maybe as a way to kiss up to you," he offered with a slightly more sincere smile. "As a peace offering for running off the girl you care for. I don't know. I want to be active right now. Feel useful. Do anything to take my mind off my stupidity and worry for Keeta. There's actually a really good chance you will be able to serve as Rhunön's proxy for your axe. Like she said, you're really tall for a dwarf. And dwarves are impressively strong. And you're from Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, so you're already familiar with metal works. Rhunön has used other male dwarven Riders in forging their weapons. She has also worked with Kull Urgals, who likewise have a huge discrepancy from her in body size. We can ask her when we get there. Keeta was always just worried she was too small and not strong enough. But I'm really sure I want to help her with Keeta's. I need to do something to try to make up for my mistake."

Gerik nodded curtly to show his understanding. And since they were already making their way through the dogwood tunnel leading into Rhunön's atrium, he said no more.

As it turned out, Rhunön was able to use Gerik to forge his own axe, and they began that morning. Nefin stayed and carried out any tasks the old elf woman needed him to. When not thus occupied, he practiced archery by shooting arrow after arrow into a makeshift target so as not to damage any of Rhunön's precious trees.

Gerik needed a break around lunchtime, and Nefin asked Rhunön if she would put him to work on any job, no matter how small, so he wouldn't have to sit around doing nothing. She promised she would after eating her meal.

Once she had, they started Nefin's bow. Rhunön taught him the fine art of singing an object from wood, which he found both fascinating and satisfying. He could have worked the rest of the day and into the night. But before long, Gerik was more than sufficiently rested and anxious to take up where they had left off with his axe.

The next several days passed in this manner. Gerik would take a turn, followed by Nefin. Whenever they took a break at the same time, Nefin began to tell the story of Angela's parents, Ellei-an and Gelarik.

Gerik didn't have to pretend to be interested. He was captivated by the unusual love story and especially how similar his name was to Gelarik's. He even wondered if there was any way he could be distantly related.

Nefin didn't have any idea about that, but he patiently and honestly answered as many of Gerik's questions as he could. The time the two males spent together became less strained and friendlier by the day, as Nefin also found opportunity to informally continue Gerik's Dragon Rider training with some unique and enlightening input from Rhunön. Each boy was grateful for the promise that they might indeed become friends after all, instead of constant opponents fighting over the same girl.

-:-:-

After Gerik and Rhunön finished his axe, he thanked Nefin for the instruction and company he had provided and left to prepare for his departure with the others.

When Nefin didn't exit Rhunön's atrium with the dwarf, she shrewdly regarded him and gruffly asked, "What's going on, young man?"

Nefin glanced at her in surprise. "I'm staying to finish my bow and arrows. And Keeta's axe." Though he tried not to change his expression when saying Keeta's name, something in his face or eyes must have betrayed him.

"Keeta? Haven't seen her around lately. I thought she would be here with Gerik."

"She left, honored one," Nefin explained, staring at the ground. "Because of me."

"I sensed that something was wrong," Rhunön said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. "Which is why I asked. What's wrong, Nefin?"

Nefin continued looking down and shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't want to bother you with such petty matters, Rhunön-elda. May we continue our work?"

"They are not petty to you," Rhunön persisted. "And whatever is wrong is continually distracting you while we work on your bow, though you have done an admirable job of keeping any awareness from me."

Nefin slowly let out his breath. Then, in a flat voice, he simply told Rhunön everything that had happened to cause Keeta's departure. When finished, he once again requested, "May we continue our work now?"

But Rhunön surprised him by indignantly exclaiming, "Alanna did that? Has anyone yet told Däthedr?"

"No, honored one. Keeta didn't want to make a big scene."

"That's because she is a better person than most," Rhunön impatiently dismissed. "But that does not matter, Nefin. Someone must address what Alanna did." She began walking to the trough of water in her forge, presumably to scry someone.

"Please, Rhunön-elda," Nefin begged. "Let's not worry about it."

Rhunön sharply turned toward him. "Nefin, this is a serious matter. You feel awful because of how the situation affected Keeta, and you have admirably accepted responsibility for your actions, but Alanna is to blame and that must be dealt with. Think about how you would feel if her spell had carried you through to the conclusion of her intended outcome. When the effects of her potion wore off, how would you have felt?"

Nefin opened his mouth. Then he closed it and shook his head. He hadn't ever really thought about it. "Even worse," he finally admitted.

"Exactly. What Alanna attempted to compel you to do is deplorable. Sharing intimate love with someone should never be a matter of coercion. It is too precious, Nefin. It is less common for a woman to force a man into such a situation, but Alanna clearly proved that it is possible and her crime is just as serious. Däthedr would want to know. He is not likely to make a big scene, but he will nonetheless speak with her. Though I have never bothered with the excessive elven courtesy displayed by more recent generations, this is weightier than mere decorum."

Nefin agreed with her and therefore made no further objection. Rhunön went to the water and performed the scrying spell. From what Nefin could hear, King Däthedr did indeed sound displeased. He ended the conversation with a promise to confront Alanna about her crime.

"There," Rhunön said. "You need not worry about a huge spectacle. If Alanna is not forthright in her confession, Däthedr can simply ascertain your claims by examining her mind. She knows that and is not likely to lie. Nor would our language allow it." She shook her head, muttering, "Inconceivable. I never would have suspected Alanna capable of such behavior. Outward appearances can be deceiving."

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders after turning back to Nefin. "We ought to take a short break. Join me in my home for some refreshment." Then she made her way into her tree house.

Nefin followed after a minute, arriving in Rhunön's kitchen to find her preparing a midmorning snack. Rhunön looked up and invited, "Tell me about Keeta."

"Is there anything I can to do help?" Nefin wondered, hoping to postpone or even avoid this conversation that Rhunön seemed intent on engaging him in.

"It's nothing," Rhunön insisted. "Just a small repast. I am almost finished now. Make yourself comfortable and get this off your chest. I would like to hear."

"Really?" Nefin blurted. "I can't understand why. Sorry to be disrespectful, honored one. I simply have a hard time believing that you are truly interested in the pathetic drama of some confused, infatuated youth."

Rhunön's eyes twinkled mysteriously. "Is it so hard for you to imagine that I might perhaps understand?"

Nefin regarded her carefully. He had no desire to give offense, but he truly could not envision a time when Rhunön had been in love. She chuckled gruffly as his long pause spoke for him. Finally he verbally added, "I suppose so, honored one. No offense intended."

"None taken, I assure you," Rhunön promised, making her way to the table where Nefin had seated himself with a tray of colorful plant foods in her hands. "I am over a thousand years old. It is hard for even me to remember the time when I once knew love, but it was there. And it was the sweetest time of my life. Though I pretend to act grumpy and unimpressed whenever any young and happily-in-love couples come calling, it truly is a delight. I felt just the same whenever your parents, Eragon and Arya, and Willow and Varhog kept me company that spring so many years ago. But not that many, when you consider the span of my life. And now here you all are, growing up and falling in love yourselves. Brom was about ready to be born at that time. You weren't even here yet. When one gets to be as old as I, they have an opportunity to witness the cycle of life repeat itself over and over. Yes, I once knew love. And what would you say if you knew the man I loved was a dwarf?"

Nefin did his best to temper his astonishment, but his mouth still fell open unbecomingly. "Really?" he breathed. "I'm surprised, honored one, as I'm sure you can clearly see."

Rhunön chuckled again and served herself a plate. Nefin followed suit and began eating after his hostess had. While they were eating, she began telling her story. She shared that she had first learned her craft from a skilled smith and Grimstborith of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, a male dwarf by the name of Fûthark. She was young those many centuries ago and so fascinated by the expertise of the strong male dwarf, who could shape any metal into any form he desired.

This was a time almost immemorial to most people's comprehension. There was no enmity between the two races while Rhunön learned the art of blacksmithing, but the dwarves were still as fiercely loyal to their clans as they were in current times. And yet the proud Grimstborith and his eager student, who had perhaps even been fair over a thousand years before—here Rhunön rasped a grating laugh—came to anticipate their lessons together for more than just the opportunity to engage in their mutual interest.

They began to care for one another and then to love. But would Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, Fûthark's clan, have looked favorably upon their esteemed Grimstborith taking an elf maid for his wife? No, indeed. So Rhunön and Fûthark had a secret and forbidden love, which made it seem ever so much more passionate. They considered themselves lawful mates and would have allowed their relationship to be public knowledge had the peoples concerned been open to the idea. Since they never were, no one ever knew that the two great smiths did more in their time together than simply create masterful works of metal.

They never had children, which Rhunön considered a blessing of sorts, for though she and Fûthark enjoyed many long decades together—sometimes in Tronjheim, others in Ellesméra, and according to the longevity of the dwarves—eventually the time came when Fûthark grew old and died. Perhaps their children would have inherited her immortality, but if they had been born destined to grow old and die as their father, Rhunön didn't know how she would have borne it. To lose her one great love was enough. And yet they always considered their creations to be their children, and Rhunön kept her love not only for blacksmithing, but also for her mentor, friend, and husband, alive in the countless works she had created since that time.

Rhunön finished her tale by saying, "Now you know, as no other living creature in the land, how the fabled elf smith Rhunön had a love before her anvil and hammer. And the fact that I remain so dedicated to my craft after numberless years is a tribute to the man who taught me all I know and devotedly worked by my side for so long. After knowing the love of a dwarf smith, no elf was ever attractive to me again. I have always had a soft spot in my heart for the dwarves. That lad who was just here reminded me so of Fûthark, though Gerik is younger than he was when I met him. But they all begin growing those impressive beards so young. No male seems quite as manly in my eyes without one."

Nefin laughed quietly. "I suppose there's no hope for my manliness then, hairless elf that I am and always will be. That was an amazing story, Rhunön. I am truly honored you saw fit to share it with me."

"You were worthy to know, young man. And I think it very sensible indeed that you have fallen in love with a dwarf. You will not find a truer friend or more loyal companion. They are fiercely protective. But merry and cheerful. And you are fortunate, so very fortunate, to know that death will not prematurely separate you from your dear one since she is a Dragon Rider.

"I think it wonderful what the Dragon Riders have done for the land of Alagaёsia. When Willow and Varhog showed up as a married couple, with her expecting his babies, it was the most surprising thing I have ever been exposed to. But look at the good it has reaped. Now the races exist together in greater harmony, friendship, and acceptance than ever before. For members of the various races to join together in love is probably the best legacy the Riders can leave. No two in love should be denied the full joy of their relationship by foolish tradition and prejudice."

Nefin nodded fervently. "Would you still have me tell you about Keeta, honored one? You seem to have guessed far more than I thought I let on."

"Would you extol the virtues of the one you hold dear?" Rhunön asked with a hint of teasing.

"I'm not opposed," Nefin rejoined. So he took his turn and told Rhunön about his lifelong friendship with Keeta. How it had, on his account, become strained in recent years as he began to suspect that her feelings were deepening. How Keeta had continued to be his friend and never acted awkward or different around him. Then Nefin had begun to pay more attention to her in Tronjheim when he noticed all of the dwarf lads admiring her. He recounted his archery lessons with her, how much he had enjoyed spending time with her, how he guessed she also enjoyed it because he frequently heard her heart beat more rapidly or her breath pause suspensefully. He shared that things had seemed to be moving along nicely in Ellesméra—aside from his growing jealousy of Gerik and resentment toward the other males who were supposed to be assisting Keeta with Gerik's training—until the incident with Alanna. Then Keeta had left, which of course was the ironic moment that Nefin knew he loved her.

Rhunön listened closely, kindly regarding Nefin as he finished speaking and his face took on a pained expression. "I now understand better why you want to help me make Keeta's axe. Though technically I could because my oath was simply that I would never forge another Rider's blade again. When I swore that, I was clearly thinking sword blades, not axe blades. There had never been dwarven Riders before then, though it should now come as no surprise to you that I wholeheartedly support the extension. But I find that the Riders take more pride in their weapons when they are able to assist me in the making of them. And I can require of them the oath, which may do some good in preventing the misuse of such powerful instruments. Plus, it's easier on old Rhunön, who is also succumbing to the effects of old age, as all inevitably do. But what would you say to really making Keeta a gift? Something she doesn't expect at all?"

"I would love it," Nefin said.

"You say she excelled rapidly in archery?"

"For the relatively brief time we spent practicing, she progressed quickly indeed. She is an excellent shot when standing still, but she never presumed—that was her word—to try shooting while moving. She's so modest. Too modest, if you ask me, since she is so gifted in so many ways. But she seems to be hung up on what she perceives as her one great weakness—her size—which is something she has no control over."

"Do you think you understand her size and measurements well enough to help me determine the proper size for a bow?" Rhunön asked.

"Yes. I perfectly remember the measurements I made. And how tall she is compared to me. And how long her arms are. Don't you also have measurements for her armor?"

"I do. And I will use them as needed. Shall we finally get back to work? I think we have found another way to keep your hands busy, your mind occupied, and your heart reassured that it might have another chance with this sweet girl."

"Thank you, honored one," Nefin earnestly said. "I never thought to find an understanding confidante in you." He smiled wryly as Rhunön barked her gruff laugh. "Incidentally, would you prefer I keep your love story to myself?"

"It doesn't matter to me," Rhunön answered. "It was so long ago now. Barely anyone remembers that I apprenticed with Fûthark, though the dwarves certainly remember him. When Orik came to visit over thirty years ago, he was stammering and stumbling in his awe and excitement to learn that piece of information. But no one ever knew of our secret love, and for it to come to light now would do no one any harm."

Nefin nodded his understanding, helped Rhunön clear her table and tidy the kitchen, then offered his arm to her as they made their way back to the half-walled smithy centrally located within her ancient atrium.

-:-:-:-