More "Exciting" "Adventures" of the Hagan brothers, Fistsilver and Talcbreaker
"What are you doing?!" Talcbreaker had rudely shoved his head into his brothers bedroom. Worse, he brought a bright green dwarrowlamp with him. Fistsilver groaned.
"I'm digging a tunnel to the center of the Earth. What does it look like I'm doing?" He snarled, and rolled face down into his bed of fragrant moss.
"How can you possibly be sleeping at a time like this?"
"Do you remember that work we've been doing, ten hours a day, for the past month or so?"
The brother masons had been plenty busy since arriving in Kogansunan. First they were fixing up their habitable, but neglected, apartment and workshop. Then they were deluged with orders for funerary slabs and memorial stelae for dwarves who died in the northern war. Appearantly the fashionable thinking was that masons from the surface must have a better idea what trees looked like, so they could carve appropriate decorations for kin who died in the forest. It was a pleasant surprise, as it meant the newly arrived and unknown junior master masons could charge the premium rate the guild allowed for special requests. They figured they could sleep when they were rich.
Then of course came the news from the city, and the immediate orders from the citadel. All other work was postponed, and every mason in the fortress was busy as beavers (an expression the Hagan brothers' new neighbors didn't understand. They hadn't yet discovered what the axiomatically busy animal was below ground), working at the highly discounted "public emergency" rate. Of course if anyone grumbled he was scowled out and reminded that it was his own safety he was working for. And all the while every third day three hours of militia training.
Fistsilver had come to the secret conclusion that the Mountainhomes were built underground not for defense, but so that the craftsdwarves wouldn't have the sun to remind them how long they had been at work.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" Fistsilver grumbled.
"Because I have more than rocks in my skull. Grandmaster Aldez invited us to dinner. A Grandmaster of the mason's guild asked us to eat at his own table, with his own family! You don't just tell him, 'Oh no thank you, I'm a bit sleepy.' He's been elected Stonemaster twice. He can make our life very good or very bad. I don't mean to spend the next six seasons chipping chamberpots out of obsidian because my brother slighted him." Talcbreaker was dashing around his brother's room, turning on lanterns and rummaging through his wardrobe. He hurled some dressy spidersilk clothes at his resting brother. "And besides, he has four unmarried daughters! Can you imagine, four daughters! And no sons either."
"Three." Fistsilver sat up, blinking stupidly at the clothes.
"What?"
"Grandmaster Aldez has three unmarried daughter. The eldest is married to a guard captain."
"Not any more, he died in Galadriel."
"What, are you sure."
"Fairly sure, since we both worked on his memorial. That's not something a wife usually buys for a living husband. Well, not a happy wife anyway. How can you not remember that? That's why we were invited, the Grandmaster said he was impressed. We impressed a Grandmaster, and now you want to snub him! Honestly, we need to get you a wife with some sense. Which is all the more reason for you to come to this dinner, pretend to be charming, and drink until you actually are."
"Fine." Fistsilver roused himself from the bed, pouring water into the washbasin.
"What is the matter with you lately?" Talcbreaker asked.
"Well, at the moment my little brother is standing here, pecking at me, and apparently wants to stay and watch me take a bath."
"Like anyone wants to do that. But seriously, you've been growling at everything. Even good news makes you angry. So out with it already."
Fistsilver scowled at his brother some more, but then his face softened. "It's Goldmantle" he said softly.
"Oh not this again." his brother moaned.
"Well why ask the question if you're going to complain about the answer? I love her, and I want her to be my wife, not any Grandmaster's daughter."
"You spoke to her for fifteen minutes at a festival. Unchaperoned, and without being properly introduced. You're lucky I'm the one who found you, not one of her brothers."
"Nothing sordid happened! Besides, I could snap her brother's necks with one hand."
"That's a certain way into a woman's heart if I ever heard one. Well, what of it? We're not lowly journeymen any more, we're respectable master masons with our own home and shop and a bit of coin laid by that we haven't had a chance to spend. Write her father a proper letter saying you'd like to court her. Get someone respectable- like say a Grandmaster who thinks highly enough of us to ask us to dinner- to write a bit to vouch for your circumstances and character. Tell him you'll take no dowry if he pays for their travel expenses. Don't sit here and mope yourself asleep."
"You don't think I've thought of that? There's war and worse coming. All the ravens are busy with official correspondence, and there are no caravans to take a letter over ground. And besides, with what we've heard about dragons and all, suppose-"
"Suppose, suppose, suppose. I'm too busy with my actual life to spend my nights supposing with my brother." Talcbreaker sighed and sat down beside Fistsilver, putting a comforting arm around him. "Look, if the worst should happen, and you want to spend the next hundred years moping about and sighing her name, well that's fine. I understand. Well not really, but I don't want to make it worse."
"Thank you." Fistsilver began to lay back down, but his brother pulled him up sharply by the beard.
"You still have to come to dinner. But you don't have to be charming. Be glum and surly if you want, it'll only make me look better by comparison. We're leaving in half an hour." Talc breaker rose and sidled out of his brother's room. "Try to wash some of the stupid off before we go."
"What are you doing?!" Talcbreaker had rudely shoved his head into his brothers bedroom. Worse, he brought a bright green dwarrowlamp with him. Fistsilver groaned.
"I'm digging a tunnel to the center of the Earth. What does it look like I'm doing?" He snarled, and rolled face down into his bed of fragrant moss.
"How can you possibly be sleeping at a time like this?"
"Do you remember that work we've been doing, ten hours a day, for the past month or so?"
The brother masons had been plenty busy since arriving in Kogansunan. First they were fixing up their habitable, but neglected, apartment and workshop. Then they were deluged with orders for funerary slabs and memorial stelae for dwarves who died in the northern war. Appearantly the fashionable thinking was that masons from the surface must have a better idea what trees looked like, so they could carve appropriate decorations for kin who died in the forest. It was a pleasant surprise, as it meant the newly arrived and unknown junior master masons could charge the premium rate the guild allowed for special requests. They figured they could sleep when they were rich.
Then of course came the news from the city, and the immediate orders from the citadel. All other work was postponed, and every mason in the fortress was busy as beavers (an expression the Hagan brothers' new neighbors didn't understand. They hadn't yet discovered what the axiomatically busy animal was below ground), working at the highly discounted "public emergency" rate. Of course if anyone grumbled he was scowled out and reminded that it was his own safety he was working for. And all the while every third day three hours of militia training.
Fistsilver had come to the secret conclusion that the Mountainhomes were built underground not for defense, but so that the craftsdwarves wouldn't have the sun to remind them how long they had been at work.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" Fistsilver grumbled.
"Because I have more than rocks in my skull. Grandmaster Aldez invited us to dinner. A Grandmaster of the mason's guild asked us to eat at his own table, with his own family! You don't just tell him, 'Oh no thank you, I'm a bit sleepy.' He's been elected Stonemaster twice. He can make our life very good or very bad. I don't mean to spend the next six seasons chipping chamberpots out of obsidian because my brother slighted him." Talcbreaker was dashing around his brother's room, turning on lanterns and rummaging through his wardrobe. He hurled some dressy spidersilk clothes at his resting brother. "And besides, he has four unmarried daughters! Can you imagine, four daughters! And no sons either."
"Three." Fistsilver sat up, blinking stupidly at the clothes.
"What?"
"Grandmaster Aldez has three unmarried daughter. The eldest is married to a guard captain."
"Not any more, he died in Galadriel."
"What, are you sure."
"Fairly sure, since we both worked on his memorial. That's not something a wife usually buys for a living husband. Well, not a happy wife anyway. How can you not remember that? That's why we were invited, the Grandmaster said he was impressed. We impressed a Grandmaster, and now you want to snub him! Honestly, we need to get you a wife with some sense. Which is all the more reason for you to come to this dinner, pretend to be charming, and drink until you actually are."
"Fine." Fistsilver roused himself from the bed, pouring water into the washbasin.
"What is the matter with you lately?" Talcbreaker asked.
"Well, at the moment my little brother is standing here, pecking at me, and apparently wants to stay and watch me take a bath."
"Like anyone wants to do that. But seriously, you've been growling at everything. Even good news makes you angry. So out with it already."
Fistsilver scowled at his brother some more, but then his face softened. "It's Goldmantle" he said softly.
"Oh not this again." his brother moaned.
"Well why ask the question if you're going to complain about the answer? I love her, and I want her to be my wife, not any Grandmaster's daughter."
"You spoke to her for fifteen minutes at a festival. Unchaperoned, and without being properly introduced. You're lucky I'm the one who found you, not one of her brothers."
"Nothing sordid happened! Besides, I could snap her brother's necks with one hand."
"That's a certain way into a woman's heart if I ever heard one. Well, what of it? We're not lowly journeymen any more, we're respectable master masons with our own home and shop and a bit of coin laid by that we haven't had a chance to spend. Write her father a proper letter saying you'd like to court her. Get someone respectable- like say a Grandmaster who thinks highly enough of us to ask us to dinner- to write a bit to vouch for your circumstances and character. Tell him you'll take no dowry if he pays for their travel expenses. Don't sit here and mope yourself asleep."
"You don't think I've thought of that? There's war and worse coming. All the ravens are busy with official correspondence, and there are no caravans to take a letter over ground. And besides, with what we've heard about dragons and all, suppose-"
"Suppose, suppose, suppose. I'm too busy with my actual life to spend my nights supposing with my brother." Talcbreaker sighed and sat down beside Fistsilver, putting a comforting arm around him. "Look, if the worst should happen, and you want to spend the next hundred years moping about and sighing her name, well that's fine. I understand. Well not really, but I don't want to make it worse."
"Thank you." Fistsilver began to lay back down, but his brother pulled him up sharply by the beard.
"You still have to come to dinner. But you don't have to be charming. Be glum and surly if you want, it'll only make me look better by comparison. We're leaving in half an hour." Talc breaker rose and sidled out of his brother's room. "Try to wash some of the stupid off before we go."
