Ganvird was far past asleep in Lydros' arms, the pup tucked between the boy and his own chest, when he finally made it to the residence that Winnie's family held as their own. Carved into the cavern, an entire wall was riddled with windows and balconies that housed the large amount of adults and children that carried the name as their own. Simply looking up was enough to make the hunter dizzy, and he knew that Winnie's own apartments were somewhere near the middle, but he dared not glance that way just yet.
The common room of the house was large, furs piled in front of a fire that burned merrily inside of a decorated fireplace. The mantle had been carved long ago by the very first of the Flamebraids, or so some of them liked to claim. It was a mass of Titan runes, and though Lydros had his own ideals about just how long ago such might have been carved, he kept them to himself in their company. A few chairs were scattered about, short and not much in the way of comfort for the hunter himself, but he was more than pleased to see that this time, the family seemed to be in greater number.
On the far side of the commons was the first set of stairs to what was the living quarters. Rumor had it that when the cavern was first carved, they had only the few rooms on the bottom floor. As the family grew, everything was built upwards into the ceiling. Lydros himself had been no further than the third floor, where the guest quarters were placed. As the family had grown, and rivalries within the ranks had begun, they had started to build the rooms into small apartments for themselves. The second floor were simply bedrooms, long since set aside as simply birthing rooms or sick rooms. They had no windows at all, barring them from the commotion that would be happening outside their window if they did.
The higher one went in the home, the larger and more detailed the rooms became. At the top-most floor, the floorplan supposedly held even enough room for the gryphon roost. No one truly confirmed such a thing, and Lydros couldn't understand housing animals inside ones home, but the rumors were there nonetheless. The Flamebraids, he had learned, were very fond of their rumors, and the women of their gossip.
He was not surprised to see Old Mirna seated closest to the fire, her once radiant red hair now white with age and bound close to her head in a braided bun. The withered dwarven woman huddled beneath her blankets even so close to the flames barely moved her eyes from the fire to the area around her when the room started to sound out with cries of surprise and joy. Dishes clattered in the kitchen off to his right, and he had already prepared himself for the tongue lashing he might receive when the ones who practically lived in the room finally made their way out.
For the most part, there wasn't a single slender and wiry Flamebraid female that he could name. He knew some elven women who envied the dwarven girls their bodies, and knew a fair few of the women in this very household who practically flaunted that fact around. The three who emerged from the kitchen were what he supposed was the pinnacle of dwarven beauty, and though they were sisters born from the same mother and father, they couldn't have been more different.
Sorirth managed to appear first, though he was certain there was a reason for it. If his affections for Winnie were uncomfortable, Sorirth's blatant enjoyment of watching him squirm around her was drop dead awkward. The only unmarried daughter in the family, aside of Winnie, the woman fairly oozed sexual appeal and was quite keen on making sure her best talents were properly displayed. While none of the women truly attracted him the way Winnie did, he still found it hard to look at the raven-haired woman without a sense of unease. Dressed in shirts that were cut low to accentuate her large bust and pants that were scandalously tight, Sorirth seemed more like a Goldshire girl than a respectable dwarven lass.
Elastyia was second, her own red hair bound in a severe bun that managed to suit her. The priestess very rarely laughed or even smiled, her robes of the faith completely pristine even after spending time in a house filled with those who worked the anvil and dug in the earth. Her bright eyes were constantly narrowed on everyone, and it was she who was the most vocal about how wrong it was that Winnie and Lydros spent any amount of time together.
The final one to push her past through, despite her friendly demeanor and general acceptance of Lydros, was the one he feared the most at the current moment. She stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips, glaring up at him with all the heat of the fire now playing along his back. Lydros cowered under her deep breath, his long ears flicked back like a scolded puppy, but he could find no words to appease the redhead.
Amfirth let her gaze unsettle him for a few more moments before finally speaking, blowing crimson hair out of her eyes with a breath. "Skill-less, is she? Lad, I hope ye know jus' how much ye hurt tha girl with y'er idle words, or I mi'ht jus' have ta kill ye myself." The stocky woman stepped close enough to hold her hands out for her son, a brow shot up into her hairline when she discovered the pup as well. "Ligh'. Ye bring meh back another mouth ta feed as well? More trouble than ye be worth, ye lon' eared bastard. Gavin!"
The yell was directed up the stairs, and it wasn't long until a dark-haired dwarven male appeared, his leathers still dusty from the road, and blood in his beard. Stone-grey eyes wandered the room, lighting on Lydros and then the pup herself. "Eh? What've ye got there?" The man strode over to the elf, and reached a hand up to grab the wolf pup by her scruff. "Lame, eh? Better ta be drownin' tha weak ones, ye know."
"Over my dead body." Lydros didn't even register that he had said it until he realized that the entire room was looking at him, and then there was a moment of awkward silence as he handed over Ganvird to his mother. "That pup was a gift to Gan. It's no business of yours to be drowning her." His eyes narrowed as Gavin took to inspecting the pup closer.
"Hum. Been weaned, 'as she?" The dwarf stroked his beard, turning his hand so the dangling pup was looking at him with those expressive eyes. "Silen' little thin'. Half expected ta be bitten at leas' once or twice already. Hmph." As if tempting fate, he brought the pup closer to his face, and sputtered as the little thing licked at his crooked nose. "Bah!" Gavin held the pup out to Lydros, giving it a careless look before turning away. "Perfe't fer the scamp o' yours, Am. Let 'em both be lame together."
Amfirth all but glared at her brother as the man ascended the stairs again, grunting with each step. "Shouldae known it'd be a bad idea ta be askin' him fer help. Light help me, lon' ears. Ye'd think I'd have learned ta trust ye and ye'r mind after all ye been doin' with Winnie." She brandished a wooden spoon at him, amused as the pup licked at the utensil. "Min' ye, I still don't like what ye said. Ye've a better head than tha, and ye better 'ave a damned good reason fer makin' her little more than a tempest." She eyed the pup a moment longer before jerking her head towards the kitchen. "Bring tha fleabag inta the kitchen, and I'll feed tha lot o' ye."
"Scoot! Be gone, ye vicious hags. Off ta yer men an' yer prayers." Amfirth shot her younger siblings a look that might have withered Deathwing himself, and the two made no squabble about getting out of her way. As Mirna had sunk more and more into senility, Amfirth had risen quickly in the eyes of her peers as the true Matriarch of the family, despite not being the oldest. Kalitta was rarely at home, caught up with her obsession with artifacts and history.
The kitchen was a large affair, compared to the rest of the home. Where he was made to stoop in other rooms of the home, including his own quarters, in this one he could stand at his full height and still have room. The dwarven woman poked her spoon at a chair in the corner, situated beside a sack of potatoes that looked as if they had been amidst being peeled just moments ago. Without even asking, he sat and took up the knife that had been used, slowly cutting the peel in one continuous strip while the woman worked.
"Been a lon' time since I saw Winnie cry, ye know." Despite her fierce exterior, the gentle tone she spoke with now was almost sad. "After Da died in tha' accident, we went through tha anger, and yellin', and Light knows every emotion tha' could be thought up. Never once did tha girl just cry.
Oh, I seen her do a number o' other thin's. Sometimes, I wonder if she's all there in tha head, ye know? She's never been so angry tha' she's ignored Gan totterin' off after her. This time, though..." Amfirth set her son down on the counter, pushing his hair from his eyes as he rubbed the sleep from them. "I know ye think ye be doin' tha right thing by her, Lydros, I do. Even knowin' tha, I think it's time fer tha girl ta stay here an' get a life tha' fits 'er better than chasin' dreams."
Lydros paused in his peeling, glancing at the pup who sat uncertainly in his lap, sniffing at that single coil of peel. After all that they had been through, giving up Winnie seemed to be the hardest thing. Hadn't it been that very thought that made him quail under what he had said? He hadn't meant to hurt the girl, hadn't meant to bring her past a point that even a death couldn't bring her to, but he couldn't bring himself to agree with Amfirth. For the first time since meeting the headstrong elder sister, he actually felt repulsed.
"She was never happy here, Amfirth. She drank, got into trouble, and tried to act like a boy. Mirna had given up on getting her a proper husband, and Winnie has proven time and again that she doesn't need to fall into the same pattern others continue to try to shove her into. I mean no disrespect," he paused to hold the pup up as the woman turned to take it, "but I don't think that what you want is necessarily what she wants."
"I see ye'r point, Lydros. We've been fairly stubborn in tryin' ta get her ta just... be what we want. We were hopin' tha' maybe, if she went with ye..."
"That she'd show skill or calling in something. I know. Do you think she doesn't want the same thing? What I said to her was out of... pain. I knew it was wrong the moment it was said, and I regret it more than I can put words to." With a flick of his wrist he sent the peel into the barrel for it, tossing the potato into another.
Amfirth said nothing for a long time, and they continued their odd jobs while simply feeding off of the silence of the other. For her, it was time to watch how her son and his new friend interacted. She was glad that, when everything was said and done, the boy had found someone who saw no fault in him. Who didn't care how he looked or sounded, and she nearly prayed that it would remain that way for some time.
His mind was far from the child and wolf pup now, considering Amfirth's words and how they conflicted with his desires. He knew that the elder sister meant well and wanted only the best for Winnie, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had slighted the entire family by making Winnie face the fact that, no matter how much they had hoped otherwise, she was the black sheep among rams.
Yet it was that very thing that made her so irresistible. The fact that she had kept going despite all the signs that she'd never be as good as others, never fight like them, never heal like them, never fit in any one role like they could. He had faced this in his mind before, been appalled by the fact that he could find her mind attractive and know he was not interested in her body, and now the entire thing only made him feel more confusion than ever before.
Irial wouldn't leave his mind, so sure as he was that it had been her in the Commons. In the darkest part of his heart, he knew that what he felt for the woman that had once been his mate could never be replaced by anyone, not even Winnie. It was an untouchable piece of him that held memories and love that could never be rivaled. Somehow, he felt as though keeping Winnie away from him would be the wisest course of action, just in case.
But that would be admitting cowardice, and breaking promises. Winnie had helped him past Irial, and he had given his word on that. Why, then, did all of that seem to not matter anymore when faced with a spectre of a former love? He knew that he could never tell Winnie why he believed that his choice to leave her behind would be the better one. He could never look her in the eyes and tell her that he was seeing ghosts.
And just like that, he began to worry if the Nightmare he had touched so long ago still lingered in the back of his mind, and was only now beginning to surface to torment him once more. His hand gripped a potato so hard that it shot from his hand, striking a cast iron skillet that fell from its rack and clanged to the stove with an earsplitting racket.
"Oh, fer the love o'..." Amfirth was there in a moment, yanking the peeler from the stricken elf and clouting him once on the head before turning back to her startled son and cowering pup. "No breakin' tha kitchen, ye oaf." Her brown eyes watched the man for a few moments more, a brow raised. "Lydros, ye look li'e ye've seen a ghost. Worse than tha' time ye managed ta drink Winnie under tha table, I daresay."
When that didn't manage to bring a grin to his lips, she sighed and went back to cutting chunks of meat into small enough pieces to hand to her son, who in turn handed them to his companion, giggling happily as she cleaned his palm with her tongue between tidbits. "Ye know, I keep sayin' tha' we need ta fin' tha girl a good man, an' settle 'er down. Then I remember tha' tha girl has always had bigger dreams than tha', and if we aren't jus' tha ones tryin' ta bring her down ta our level."
Lydros made a soft noise in the back of his throat, his hands rubbing at his face. Quite suddenly, he felt as if all the strength he had managed to keep when playing with the child had just seeped from him and raced into the stone. His legs felt heavy, his shoulders tight and bowed with the weight of a burden he couldn't name. "I'm sorry, Amfirth. I must be more tired than I thought. I'm not quite capable of keeping up with your wit."
"Ha! Wit, indeed. I won't have ye doin' a nosedive inta the potatoes, lon' ears. Get yerself ta bed, before I have Sorirth help ye." She smirked as the elven man rose quickly and left, cracking his head solidly on the doorway. His muttered curses could have made dwarves themselves blush, and she heaved a heavy sigh when he vanished from sight. "Ye know, scamp..." Amfirth picked her son up and plopped him in the chair Lydros had just vacated. After a moment, the pup was placed at his feet with a plate of scraps. "One o' these days, we'll fin' out what ta do with tha both o' them."