Of foolish elves and foolisher dwarves

The people in the hamlet, now in meeting together in the common house, were…mostly annoyed.

“I had to give one part out of three of flour and grain!” Astrid, a small woman who was now showing signs of yet another pregnancy, shouted, furious, Ivan, a small giant, patting her back and whispering: “Dear, calm down pleas-”

“Ivan son of Harald, you will not tell me to calm down!” She turned, her blonde hair almost floating, making her husband rise his hands up in the air and not speak.

Others in the hamlet, both dwarves and humans, were just as disgruntled.

Understandable.

More than understandable, righteous even.

If I wasn’t somewhat friendly with the knight-taxman, and if I truly had been pissed, I would have resolved this the French way.

But eh.

It could be worse, we still had enough to reach even summer, so mission accomplished.

“Children, calm down.” Grandpa’s voice rang out, unyielding: “While I am as furious as you are, to act on it would be foolish, it’s simply the nature of things. We toil and pay taxes, and now that we have done our preparations for the food, we only have to take care of the wood and the last repairs, alongside preparing the cabbages seeds for the winter.” He chuckled.

This one liked the one hundred and one shades of the crucifers.

Ingrid became green when he said that, turning away.

That one, instead, didn’t like those one hundred and one shades.

There were grumbles, above all from Astrid who took to use poor Ivan as a chair while he rubbed her back and head.

Strange couple, wholesome, but strange.

Had to help with their fourth and fifth child. While they were in their twenties.

Then had to help, nine months later, for their sixth.

From how Astrid started to calm down and melt, after this seventh child there would be more, and the hamlet would reach one hundred in very little time.

“Now it will be a time of stories and night, and of staying close together near the fire and of repairs.” Grandpa continued, and the other ten families had stares similar to Astrid and Ivan.

Which meant, in not many words, more work for me.

“Grandpa, please don’t give them ideas.” I muttered, putting my hands in front of my face, knowing that some would ask about the…next day potion.

I was a veterinarian, damn it!

“So you will be free, nano?” The elf asked immediately, her arms crossed in front of her while her face had not changed since the taxman had arrived, or during the walk back here.

The same frown, which I could not well place, and which, after this sudden request, was…scaring me.

Scaring me a lot.

“Oh? Sure, what may this dwarf do to help, glorious alfar? I do hope that young Victor isn’t mistreating you.”

“Oi” I grunted from my seat, while several people cough and chuckle at me.

Damn them.

“No. The Peregrino has behaved well, and I cannot fault his expertise, nor his results.” She answered immediately, and I felt some warmth in my chest.

All people liked being praised for their work, and usually doctors didn’t get a lot from their patients, unlike what I get when I work with animals.

That warmth died a premeditated and premature death when she continued, unrelenting: “His behaviour and courtesy are found wanting, on the other hand.”

Ingrid did laugh, loud and uproariously, slapping her knee all the while.

Grandma did rub her eyes, muttering something very much rude towards me.

I just took some mead, that I had swiped off from Grandpa, and poured it into a wooden mug.

If I had to be the butt of a joke, at least let me be buzzed.

“But I was not asking for punishment for the Peregrino, or for need to change location, if it was offered. I was asking for aid in my training.” The elf continued, getting up and standing straight and proud, not caring about someone almost choking and staring at her like she was mad.

And I knew that because I was staring at her like she was mad.

Because she was mad.

What could an old dwarf, who didn’t fight but only helped the house, who was married to a mage dyrgia, know about using a sword?

“Ya wanna die, alfar?” Ingrid instead answered, and it made me turn towards her with the same wide eyed eyes, same dribble of mead down my beard I had given, and would continue to give, to the elf.

What the hell? Why are they talking like the elf was mad?!

“Alfar.” Grandpa got up, his face now grim, grasping his metal baton: “You may be a guest, but I have lived for a long time and I know you are young. So I will still give you a word of advice and not ask for a shield-bearer to fight you, even for a training, because what comes after would be the hardest fight you will ever have.”

There were bated breaths in the common house, like it was not a four hundreds years old dwarf who had said that, who could barely reach the misogerontric elf’s chest.

“That’s why I asked, old nano. If I wished to not train, I would have just moved out. I will not stay idle during this winter, and I wish to see how you would fare against me.” The misogerontric elf continued, and I moved my head towards the table.

Why weren’t people normal in this place? Animals were more logical, damn it!

“Then you have been warned, young alfar.” Grandpa moved, slowly and using the metallic cane as a crutch, I could hear that without looking: “I will give victor the supply for your bruises, after all, you will be needing them. Let’s get out, I want to see how good you are.” He ended, grim and amused at the same time, while I just wanted to shout that this foolish elf had survived against a bear without too many broken bones.

That she was an idiot was known, but she was also a strong idiot, damn it Grandpa!

I don’t want to have more people in my house, and I don’t want have to use even more cotton!