A/N: I don't own ToS, etc. This is something I've been wanting to write for a while. Enjoy! (and please review if you like it)

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"Time for bed now, Lloyd," the dwarf informed his adopted four-year-old, putting his tools down carefully when he noticed the boy had begun to nod off.

Nearly a year had passed since the abrupt change in the life of solitude for an outcast such as he, but Dirk was still adjusting to not one but two new additions. The dog-like creature, Noishe, lived independently of the dwarf for the most part, but the boy was certainly a handful. Dirk had lost track of how many times he'd awoken to the child's screaming – nightmares, and no wonder – and how many sleepless nights he'd spent coaxing the poor thing back to sleep.

The nightmares slowly dwindled, no doubt as Lloyd began to repress the few memories of his parents his undeveloped mind had retained, though a hundred other inconveniences cropped up. Dirk took to reciting the Dwarven Vows – specifically number two – on more than one occasion, but though he kept up the hope that the boy's father would come for him any day, he was strangely hesitant about giving him up to a family in the village, where he would surely be better taken care of. The day Lloyd had greeted him with an uncertain 'Daddy', half question and half statement, settled any doubt in his mind, and he soon found himself diverting valuable work time to the construction of a second floor for Lloyd, complete with balcony, as well as a pen for Noishe. He even began turning down clients, for the sake of spending more time with the boy.

Lloyd certainly had a way about him. Despite the turmoil and tragedy he had only recently survived, he brimmed with optimism, and his round brown eyes held absolute confidence and trust. After a short time, Dirk had forgotten life without Lloyd, and occasionally even forgot that his son wasn't actually his. As an outcast of his race, he had given up the secrets of his trade, as well as any hope of ever having a family. This orphaned child, little more than a toddler, was a blessing, for which he realized he was profoundly grateful.

A stifled yawn interrupted his reminiscing. Lloyd gazed, bleary-eyed, at him from where he sat, perched on the edge of the child-sized stool Dirk had crafted. "Not…sleepy," the boy protested as he was lifted into dwarf's arms and carried upstairs.

"Oh, yes you are," Dirk chided, gently laying Lloyd on his bed and pulling the covers up over his small body. "Rest now. Plenty of time to be up and about in the morning."

Lloyd rolled onto his side, eyes drifting shut. Satisfied that he was asleep, the dwarf turned to head back downstairs. He had time to get a bit more carving done before bed, and after all, he was not one to waste time.

"Daddy?" Lloyd's voice caught him before he'd even reached the top step.

"What is it, son?" Dirk inquired.

"When will Mommy come home?"

He felt as though his stomach was clenched in a fist of ice. He'd always taken it for granted that Lloyd had never asked any questions, and now he would pay for it. He turned again and sat carefully at the edge of the bed. His mind spun through all the euphemisms he could say, to spare the child, but that felt too wrong. He owed Lloyd the truth – at least, part of it. "Lloyd, my boy, your mother… Well, she's dead, son."

"Dead?" As though he didn't comprehend. Perhaps he really didn't.

Dirk sighed. "Come here, lad." He gathered the child up again, covering him with a blanket against the cold, and headed down the stairs, stopping only to collect something buried at the back of a cabinet before making his way out the door. He covered the short distance from the front step to the small clearing behind the house far too quickly. "Here she is, Lloyd." Shifting the boy to one arm, he gestured at the gravestone, barely visible in the darkness.

Lloyd was silent, so Dirk put him down cautiously, to let him see for himself. The boy picked his way over the slightly uneven ground, towards the polished stone. He touched the cool surface and, still uncomprehending, looked back to Dirk.

The dwarf scratched his beard, thinking back to that fateful day, and shook his head. Too soon. He couldn't bear the see that optimism fade. "It was… ah, it was an accident, Lloyd," he said simply. "Anna – your mother – she died in an accident."

After a moment, the boy nodded. "Mommy…won't come back?" His eyes shone in the faint moonlight.

It was almost too much to take. "No, son. She won't."

He didn't know how long he knelt there, holding Lloyd as he wept, murmuring unintelligible words of comfort. After some time the tears finally ceased, though the boy still shook. His face remained full of despair and loss. Cruel, for one so young…

"She left you this, Lloyd," Dirk said, fishing the object out of his pocket. The smooth, round stone glowed dimly as he showed it to his son. "For when you're older." He paused, trying to find the right words. "I couldn't help your mother, and I don't for the life of me know what's become of your father, but I swear, son, I swear I'll always be here for you."

The dwarf draped the discarded blanket back over the boy, and held him silently. The shivering stopped, and with a sad little sigh, Lloyd fell asleep.