Homecoming

Second Story on Reedsy! Please comment and advise!

Vaffer twisted his hatchet moodily in his hands, staring at the full moon. It was past the second watch, but he knew sleep was hopeless. He hadn't bothered to wake Riggot, who looked as peaceful as if he was lying on a feather bed. Except that, unlike Vaffer, Riggot had probably never been in a feather bed. With a heavy sigh, the young dwarf sat back against the tree. Two years was a long time for anyone to be away. But for him...

Riggot mumbled something about roasted squirrel and his weight in gold. Vaffer yawned. Maybe he was a little tired. He stretched his arms up to the young oak, accidentally knocking against a low-hanging branch. It crackled in the autumn air, and showered leaves on the two friends. Riggot woke up with a start. Hammer strikes, wolf howls, forest fires, and scoldings wouldn't get a twitch from him. But brush him with a feather, and he jumped up like a cony on a cactus. With a yawn that nearly split his face, the other dwarf pulled himself over to Vaffer. “Ye ought to get some sleep.” he mumbled. “Can't.” said his friend.

“Try.” said he.

“Would like to.” replied Vaffer.

They sat in silence, as they had so many, many times before. Knees by their shoulders, spread apart, elbows resting on them, hands in front. After several breaths, Riggot spoke up again.

“Narvous?” he asked.

Vaffer traced the carved handle of his hatchet. “Wouldn't you be?”

“I don't know. Never had family to speak of.” he glanced over at him, then casually added, “'cept you.”

The dwarf nodded. “Aye. But two years is a long time.”

“For us that's young. Ol' Brundy speaks o' ten years as if it's ten days.”

“What if they've forgotten me?”

“Do parents really forget their sons that easily?”

Vaffer shrugged. “I don't know anymore. It seems like I've always been in the rough, 'long with you. I can't imagine what it's going to be like, living in a hall again. With a bed, and fresh meat every day; ale and roaring fires.”

“Sounds like heaven.”

“It would be. But the dwarves of the hall don't want change or adventure. That's why I left.”

“Vaffer, ye've told me a thousand times.”

“I know.”

he sighed again, and polished his hatchet blade. His eyes drooped slightly. Riggot tapped his boots and pulled at a loose string in his cloak.

Vaffer blinked. “Rig, remember when we had to get the happles?”

“Course I do.”

“I feel like I have to climb the tree all over again. But I almost feel like... at the tree, Riggot, you threw me a rope made of vines because you knew about the tree and you knew what to do. And that's what saved me.”

“Yer point?”

“I can't do this by myself. But I feel like you can't help me.”

“Points fer being honest.”

“Riggot...”

“Vaffer, stop worrying. Just because I've never dealt with family doesn't mean you'll be alone now.”

“But...”

“Did we know how to cross the water?”

“No.”

“Had either of us ever seen the water before?”

“No.”

“Did we cross the water alive?”

“We're alive now.”

“Exactly. Vaffer, yer a brother to me. Ye'll never be alone as long as I'm breathin'.”

An hour passed in silent companionship, just like on the boat, on the road... even in the dungeons. Vaffer drew strength from these times. It seemed like anything could be accomplished as long as he had Riggot.

“Are ye goin' to sleep?”

“Can't.”

“Well then, no sense in waiting. Let's get an early start.”

The dwarves picked up their belongings – two little satchels' worth – and went on their way. It wasn't fully morning when the mountain door came in sight.

“It's nigher than you said 'twas.”

“My memory must be failing.” Vaffer forced a smile, but it was rather a grim smile. Almost against his will, his steps slowed. He concentrated on only the next step. His worn soles pressing against his feet, Riggot's even gait beside his own. If his memory was indeed failing, it was failing selectively.

Every five minutes he would picture the dark hall, the sound of the wind outside. His tiny bundle, tied to a stick, all ready to go. His boots, brand new, on his feet. His pet hatchet grasped determinedly in his hands. And the two figures that barred his way. The shouts and oaths echoed in his memory. “You would forsake your inheritance? Weakling! Traitor!”

“Nay!” the Vaffer of memory felt his face heat even more. His eyes were flashing, his voice was ringing. “I would find a better way!”

“A better way to do what your ancestors have done for centuries? You – upstart! You... You – mole among miners!”

Vaffer turned away from the face purple with rage. With one last look into the gentle, hurt, eyes of the second figure, he ran out the doorway. Out into the world. To find a better way or die trying.

“Vaffer.” the sun was rising. “Vaffer.” Riggot waved his hand in front of his face. “Dreaming again?”

“More like nightmaring.”

“What are ye going to tell yer father?”

“I'll tell him I found what I was looking for.”

“We didn't find the lost secrets...”

“Nay, Riggot. But I found what I was looking for nonetheless.”

“What's that?”

“Rig, I found understanding and friendship. I found you.”

“Vaffer, ye make me sound like a mother.”

“My mother never gave me what you've given me. She never loved me.”

Riggot paused then, a puzzled expression on his face.

“What's it?” asked Vaffer.

“Vaf, I think ye missed something, somewhere. Seems to me mothers always love ye. No matter what, no matter where ye've been. Not that I know from 'sperience. But mayhap she did love ye. Mayhap she just had a funny way of showin' it.”

“I don't know Riggot. You haven't met mine yet.”

“I soon will.”

“And you wonder why I'm nervous?”

“Not anymore.”

The sun rose behind them. Vaffer thought of the light, the dim light.

“Son, would you throw away our legacy? Why cannot you accept our line? Accept your destiny? Accept this gift?”

“If it were a gift, I would accept it gladly. But this throne is a burden, a great one, that you are far too eager to pass on. Would that it were the last seat in the world I would not sit on it. You wonder why our mountain has not prospered, why the lodes fail? Something is lacking. I will find it. I will better the work of you, of your father, of your father's father. I will change the legacy. I am leaving.”

“Son! It is your time! Who knows what will happen if you do no take this now from me?”

“Ha! Who knows indeed? I am not staying to find out.”

“The throne was too dim already.” Vaffer said to himself. Riggot glanced at him, but kept walking. They were now but a hundred yards from the gate.

“Riggot, I'm frightened.”

“Vaffer, yer not.”

“Riggot...”

“Vaffer...”

“Why are you so confident?”

“Because I don't fear the worst.”

“Who goes there?” a guard called from the hidden window.

With a deep deep breath, Vaffer slowly pulled back his hood.

“It is I: Vaffer, son of Vorfon, son of Viirdef. I have come back to my mountain”

the guard was silent. Only moments had passed when suddenly... a great horn call echoed from the inner entrance hall. Three more answered. Nine answered these. Twenty-seven sounded from the top beacon towers. The notes they played were triumphant, but sweet. A memory of longing echoed in their depths; a hint of parting. But now they were happy. Celebratory. Victorious. Welcoming.

Tears filled the dwarf's eyes, and he wiped them furiously with a calloused hand. Riggot slapped his friend, half-reproachfully, half-incredulously. To him as well, the message was clear.

Homecoming.