Upon returning to his rooms in the Western Tower, Njáll immediately called for one of his own soldiers to come and stand guard outside. Then he and Tórví held a short conference to decide their next moves.
Even after her brother had retired, Tórví did not sleep. She stayed awake and wondering in her strange, unfamiliar room that was too high and too far away from all that was familiar. She missed the closeness of the Chasm and the familiar weight of the Black Mountains above her head; even with the current dangers that compromised her once peaceful home.
As morning rolled around, she dressed again and steeled herself for enforced contact with Lady Isadora Orellana-Scythley. She really did not know what to make of the woman. Isadora seemed vapid and uninteresting but she was one the most powerful people in Caspian's court so she could not merely be ignored.
She and Tórví could not have possibly been any more different. As she said goodbye to Njáll, since he had a private meeting with the King, Tórví steeled herself to prepare to spend her day with this irritating woman.
Isadora had an office in one of the lower floors alongside some of the other Lords. There she was waiting for Tórví, apparently. At least, that is what Tórví could gather from the incredibly perky half-Dryad who was leading the Dwarf through the castle. During the journey she also learned that the girl was Lady Isadora's personal handmaiden and she was an orphan and she was an ash dryad.
Tórví just let her babble.
"…and here are the offices!" the handmaiden trilled as they turned into a corridor with a black and white chequered floor.
Isadora had been busy with some sort of document as the dryad girl showed Tórví into the right room. It was a handsome and comfy little room of dark wood. Bookcases stuffed with leather-bound books hugged the walls and Isadora's desk sat in the middle of the room.
She looked up as Tórví entered and gave her a smile; the same glassy smile as the day before.
"Will that be all, milady?" the dryad girl asked.
"Yes, Cloe, you are excused for now. I'll call for you later," she said and her handmaiden curtsied and left them alone.
"Please, sit. This unfortunately needs my full attention first but I have nearly reached the end," Isadora said. She indicated an armchair near her desk and then went back to the parchment before her.
Tórví took the seat offered to her and took the opportunity to more closely examine Isadora as she finished her work. She was shocked to see how young the woman was and more shocked to see the purple shadows blossoming under her eyes. Everybody in this castle just seemed exhausted and overworked.
Isadora groaned and then shoved her papers aside. She sat back in her chair and rubbed her eyes then scrutinised Tórví as closely as the Dwarf had just done to her.
"So, what are we to do?" she said. "You have made it quite clear that you do not like me but my royal cousin has decreed that we must endure each other's company while he and your brother discuss their business."
Tórví raised an eyebrow and smiled to herself.
"You wish to sit in the meetings as well?" she asked.
"Not to speak ill of my King but Caspian has always had a tendency to get overexcited and make promises he can't keep," Isadora replied grimly. "I can usually stop him or hold him back in some way but how can I do that if he won't let me be there to hear what he is saying?"
Something about the irritation flickering behind the woman's dark eyes made Tórví smile. Isadora glared at her.
"I don't know why you have taken such offence to me," she said stiffly. Tórví tipped her head to one side to indicate she was listening.
Isadora sighed and slapped her hands down onto the arms of her chair. Her knuckles went white for a moment as she gripped them and then she relaxed and dragged a hand across her face.
"I'm trying, alright?" she said. "I've brought all of this upon myself. I had one friend growing up; a friend I loved so deeply that I neglected all other relationships including my relationships to my own siblings in favour of him. When I could not have his attention I surrounded myself by the most toxic collection of girls I could muster and we laughed and stabbed each other in the back in this hazy daze of youth. And then, my mother gave birth to my brother and my friend ran away and became a King and I lost everything. My father is dead; my grandfather, mother and siblings are where I can never see them again; and that collection of so-called girlfriends have not spoken to me in months. I can tell the others are looking for me to have some sort of breakdown because I am a woman and I am young and I… I just thought you would understand…"
She trailed off.
Tórví pursed her lips. "I was actually just smiling because your frustrations with the King remind me of my frustrations with Njálabrik," she said.
An awkward silence filled the office and then both women began to laugh.
"Oh dear, I really need to stop leaping to conclusions," Isadora said, wiping tears from her eyes.
"You need to start behaving like a Dwarf," Tórví told her. "We do not care which gender you are; if you have a working pair of hands and a brain in your head you can work just as well as anyone else."
"I like the sound of that," the Telmarine girl agreed.
Their misunderstandings aside, they settled down to talk more openly. Although neither had realised it, they had been looking for someone else to fill a place in their world they had not even know existed.
In a corridor above them, Njáll once more followed Hywel.
"You are taking me to see the King this time, correct?" the Dwarf asked the faun.
He did not respond. Njáll raised his eyebrows and tried a few more times to garner a response and each one was met with a stony silence.
Eventually they reached a pair of double doors flanked by guards so Njáll was reasonably confident that he was not about to be ambushed by angry Narnians again.
Hywel knocked on the door before opening it and leading Njáll into the Royal Apartments.
"Njálabrik Iceguard to see you, sire," he said.
"Thank you, Hywel," Caspian said. "You can go."
"Sire," the faun said, bowing his head. He turned and left, never once making eye contact with Njáll. The Low King decided to let it slide. Instead, he moved further into Caspian's apartment and took the armchair the King offered him.
"Dr Cornelius and Isadora would rather I did not speak to you alone but I feel we will make more progress without others trying to jump into our discussion," Caspian said. He offered Njáll a cup of tea but the Black Dwarf shook his head.
"Tórví thinks the same but I must agree with you," he said as Caspian sat in one of the other chairs. "Is this Dr Cornelius the half-dwarf we've heard rumour of?"
Caspian nodded, watching Njáll closely. Something flashed behind his eyes but his face remained impassive and he did not speak a word.
"Shall we begin?" Caspian asked eventually. "Why do you only reach out to us now? Where were the Dwarfish soldiers when I wrenched my crown from my uncle's grasp? Where were you when we fought the Ettins?"
Njáll shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Caspian regarded him over steepled fingers, awaiting his answer. He had no idea if the King was aware of last night's shenanigans or whether Caspian was simply that attentive.
"I may be the currently elected leader of the Dwarfs, sire, but I have very little true executive power. That belongs to the thirteen Elder Families and they decreed that we were to sit tight and wait until you truly showed your hand," he said slowly.
"You can do that?" Caspian asked. "Just lock yourselves away from the rest of Narnia?"
"Our city lies against what in the Common Tongue is known as the Deep Chasm," the Black Dwarf said. "The mountain range folds over the top, protecting us from the outside elements, and the Chasm extends down into the ground. For centuries, pretty much from the dawn of Narnia, the Dwarfs have lived in the Chasm in peace and security. We have ventured out into Narnia as we have needed and we have mined the ores and jewels in the Chasm's walls."
"But something has now changed?" Caspian said. Njáll nodded gravely.
"We've never needed to explore to the bottom of the Chasm," he explained. "Its walls are even today still so rich that we have not needed to venture down more than a few leagues. The Chasm is so deep that, even at the furthest depths of our excavations, it is still impossible to see the bottom. Yet, something is down there; we are sure of it. The Elder Families are loath to tell the public; they did not even want me to inform you.
"But you are our King, even if you aren't a Dwarf, and you must be made aware of Dwarfish matters. We are going to need your help; I can feel it in my very bones. This is a Dwarfish matter for now but soon I think it will be a Narnian matter."
"What would you have me do for now?" Caspian asked.
Njáll shrugged. "Be aware," he suggested. "As long as whatever is down there stays down there then I am content to let it be. I just want your promise that, should anything happen, you will seal whatever it is beneath the mountain – even if that means sealing us in too."
"Why would I do that?!" Caspian exploded. "Your people may be a different race to me but they are still my people too! I would never leave them to die!"
"Even if it would stop an ancient evil leaking forth into the rest of Narnia?" Njáll said, raising one bushy eyebrow. "Your loyalty does you credit, your Majesty, but don't let it cloud your judgement."
He paused for a moment. "I don't want to be sealed away in the darkness any more than the next dwarf," he continued in a low tone, "but if it saved Narnia then I would bring down the rockfall myself. Whatever is down there should stay there; I cannot stress that enough. A Dwarf does not fear the Darkness, sire, but the darkness at the bottom of the Chasm terrifies me."
"Enough to resurrect the White Witch?" Caspian asked, remembering the plot conjured by Nikabrik – Njáll's kin.
Njáll sat back in his seat and narrowed his eyes. Caspian watched the dwarf closely as he weighed the options in his mind.
"Aye," he said eventually. "If it came to it. Between the Evil we have known and the Unknown, I'd take the Witch's cruelty over that thing in the Chasm any day."
The young king fell silent for a moment. A great sorrow passed over his face but if anything it made him look younger and more naïve than he actually was.
"Would you really just submit? I know how it feels to stand in the Witch's presence and it was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. If I was to submit to her, I could never say that I was a King," he said slowly.
"You call me King," Njáll said coldly after a pause. "My people call me Rhuzhaakm but that word does not translate into your tongue. I am no true King; only a puppet of my people."
Matters were discussed. Deals were made. Most of the topics discussed that day would be kept strictly between Caspian and Njálabrik until their respective deaths but eventually an understanding was reached between them. When Njáll finally left the royal apartments, he felt far more settled than he had before.
This time with Hywel following him like an errant shadow, he met his sister and together they wandered back towards their rooms.
As they climbed the staircase from the main keep to the Western Tower, Njáll turned to the faun behind them with a roguish grin.
"I think we can manage by ourselves now, thank you Hywel," he said.
Hywel stared up at him blankly but then bowed his head and turned and left.
"Remind me to press him about why exactly he is so indifferent towards me," Njáll said to Tórví – in Dwarfish lest the faun overhear them. She gave him a pained look.
"So the meeting went well?" she said, continuing their previous conversation.
"Indeed," he replied. "He certainly shows promise and I am sure he will help us if we need it."
They reached the top of the stairs and turned into the corridor off which their rooms lay.
Two Telmarines were approaching them; a young man and woman about the same age as His Majesty and Lady Isadora. They were deeply engaged in conversation and barely noticed the two dwarves.
Tórví, however, did notice them and immediately switched to a defensive stance. Her hands went to the axe on her belt and she shouted a warning to her brother in Dwarfish. Njáll took one look at them before drawing his dagger.
"Halt!" he commanded. "What are you doing here?"
The human pair stopped and examined them coolly.
"We weren't aware that this corridor was out of bounds while the dwarves were staying here," the girl said eventually. "Apologies."
Njáll grinned. "Nice try. I mean, what are you doing in this castle? We know you are no friend to Narnia."
"How so?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.
"The Jagged Pass through the Western Escarpment passes right underneath one of our outposts. We have been watching you come and go for years," he said. His face darkened. "No-one from Narnia knows about the Jagged Pass and your kind always makes sure to avoid Highpeak and the other Telmarine settlements."
The man burst out laughing at his words and turned to his companion. He said something in a strange tongue neither Njáll nor Torví understood, all the while still giggling. His female counterpart did not bat an eye-lid but she did reply in the same strange language.
"Surely a little exploring does not make us enemies?" she said in the Common Tongue.
"Maybe… but we have watched for years. We know with whom you meet and we know that you are no friend to us," Njáll said. The man stopped laughing instantly and both the humans also shifted into defensive positions.
The girl said something again in the foreign language, a note of urgency creeping into her voice. The man replied slowly. His eyes flicked quickly between Njáll and Tórví and the weapons in their hands.
"As it happens, our business here is concluded," the mystery man said evenly. "We shall withdraw."
They both back away slowly. Njáll took a step towards them; his face as dark as a thunderstorm.
"You may return the way you came but if we see you on the Jagged Pass again then we will cut you down before you could even register that we were there," he said.
"Why not kill us now?" the girl asked.
"I want you to tell your masters that we are watching and you can't very well do that if you are dead now, can you?" he said. "Now go, before I change my mind."
They exchanged a look and then turned back the way they had come; running towards the servant's stair at the other end of the corridor.
"The Families won't approve," Tórví warned him.
He walked a little way down the corridor and picked up something that had fallen from the man's pocket. A single feather; as black as coal. He turned it over in his hands.
"The Families don't have a choice," he said. "We are the King's Dwarfs now - and we need to protect Narnia from her enemies."
Apologies for the delay with this chapter - I recently started a new job and it is tiring me out.
But I have been doing some planning. Flames can essentially be broken down into four main arcs:
1) This visit from the Dwarfs
2) A currently mysterious arc
3) A second mysterious arc
4) The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
And we are coming to the end of Arc 1... :D (Although it is the shortest arc)
The face claim list on my profile has been updated to include Njáll, Tórví, and our mystery man and woman. And please do tell me what you think of the latter two; I've been dropping hints all over as to who they are, hehehe.
Thank you to Wildhorses1492 and TortoisetheStoryteller for your kind words as always. Please leave me a review and I will see you all in the next chapter!
