Khel and Brom

CHAPTER 1

Let me begin by describing myself and a little about my life. My name is Khel, and I am an elf. I'm fairly young for my race, I suppose I'd be about the equivalent of early twenties if I was a human. I was raised from infancy in a theatre troupe and have come to fancy myself as something of an accomplished actor. The company consists of about thirty of us total, mostly elves and a few humans. Our caravan travels among the majority of large towns and cities, performing plays, juggling acts, songs and dances as well. I have a fairly distinct voice, perhaps high for most males, but the audience always responds well, saying how I inspired and moved them. Occasionally I am made to play female roles depending on what performance we are enacting. I don't mind, it's the sign of a great actor, I think, to be able to capably and believably portray either sex on the stage. Elves are fortunate as a race. We are long-lived, have beautiful, striking features and a certain grace to our movements, although the latter is learned behavior from our society. I have dark brown hair, cut very short to help with wearing any wigs or hats for performances. I have long, pointed ears, naturally. My eyes are green, a bright vibrant emerald color that has always served me well when seeking company for the evening in whatever local brothel or tavern we might happen upon in our traveling.

The last week's travels had brought us to entirely new territory, an immense subterranean dwarven city called Stonefield. It had only been in the past year or so that dwarves had begun allowing topside races into their underground settlements. The stout people weren't generally known for their hospitality, though to be honest, there wasn't much I knew for certain about them. I knew some dwarven fables of course, and had seen a scant number of individuals in large topside cities before, always merchants, selling their wares to humans and elves. It was quite exciting for our company to be invited to Stonefield. To my knowledge, we would be the first non-dwarvish performers ever here. Despite being deep underground, there was phosphorescent moss covering much of the cavern walls and ceiling as well as some sort of glowing gemstone in lamps all along the roads and in the windows that illuminated the city to a degree I would have thought impossible. It wasn't daylight to be sure, but we could see a good distance around in nearly every direction.

There wasn't much time to appreciate the architecture or craftsmanship as we had to begin unloading and setting up our wagons straight away. We were fluid and well-practiced in our routine. We could likely set up our caravan town and stage with our eyes closed by this point. It took a little under two hours to get everything ready at the edge of a large square near what I guessed was the center of the city. A pair of armed dwarven guards had lead us here riding on the backs of what appeared to be enormous, snuffling moles from the surface and had stood to one side watching us go about our work. In fact, as I looked to the surrounding buildings I noticed many curious round faces, most of them bearded, staring inquisitively out at us with interested expressions.

Once our set-up was complete, Joren our announcer and pitchman, a towering, well-built elvish fellow with short, straight blond hair and a tidy moustache began calling out to and inviting in our intended audience. Our stage was at the center of our convoy, on which Joren stood, garishly dressed, telling jokes and juggling as he beckoned to the curious stout folk who eagerly approached. Vahn, another tall elvish man with his long, straight black hair, stood at a booth nearby selling tickets with an infectious smile. I was backstage at this point donning a pretty gold dress and long yellow wig. My friend Aste quickly handling the make-up application to my cheeks and lips. She worked quickly but effectively to make me look my part. Tonight our performance was of a well known comedy called "The King's Unlikely Bride". It was a bit over the top, full of bawdy music, raunchy dance numbers and plenty of silly affairs. Our troupe had chosen this specifically because it was a story known all over, even to the dwarves we learned, so it became the ideal introduction to elvish theatre. I was pleased that it was chosen because of a moving duet between two of the potential brides, who became spurned by the king. I would be one of them and Aste would play the other. We had practiced this particular song together since we were young and loved being on stage ever since. I don't think we had failed yet in bringing a crowd to the verge of tears and beyond with our voices and emotion. I chuckled to myself, wondering if dwarves cried, or were as stone-faced as I had heard.

As the play progressed, we all watched the audience with great interest from behind the heavy curtains. It was clear that some of the finer points may have been lost on the dwarves but they clearly understood the gist of what they were seeing. They were even more stoic than expected, giving only small laughs when most crowds had given whooping cheers and applause. Still, they didn't look bored at least. I performed my scenes with well-practiced ability and perhaps even overacted a few scenes to ensure our dwarven friends weren't missing any subtleties. While I was backstage during the dungeon scene, Aste commented to me,

"I think you have a hairy little admirer." She said.

"What? Oh really?" I arched an eyebrow slightly. "Point them out."

She indicated from behind the curtains to a dwarven fellow with a great wide beard of fire-red hair about three rows back. He was bald on top and had thick red eyebrows to match his braided facial hair.

"Ugh, he's rather an ugly thing isn't he?" I sneered, then laughed.

"Whenever you're onstage, he sees nothing else. You should be flattered, I think he's quite handsome by their standards." Aste teased.

"As if you would have any idea at all!" I countered. "There's more hair on his face than on both our bodies combined. Yuck." I adjusted the front of my dress. "Almost time for our song, you ready?"

"Of course. Don't fuck it up." She winked at me.

We both gave our all to our voices and performance. The melody had an unexpected faint echo from the monstrous cave around us and when it was my voice alone I played with that echo, using it to heighten the melancholy and pain in my words. As the song continued on I couldn't help but notice my admirer in the crowd. He really did seem to be quite taken by me, or at least the character I portrayed. I remembered they had never seen a topside play before and I briefly remembered how moving it had been for me the first time. My voice combined with Aste's at the climax of the song and we both hit the highest note, perfectly in sync, allowing the final sound we made to drift away into the cool air and disappear. As our stage crew doused the lights at the conclusion of our duet, I noticed my admirer's eyes had become very red and his eyebrows had knit together. He looked utterly desolate. Apparently it was the most that could be hoped for in terms of any visual response that I could read on the dwarves' faces. Again, there was no applause, just some small whispers in the audience. It was disappointing to be sure, but I had given the role my all. It certainly wasn't my fault that these cave-dwellers had no taste.

At last the play drew to its close. Our lead, Vahn, who played the king ends up alone, and utterly deflated but still has his court jester by his side. It made for a tragic conclusion but fitting for the ridiculous royal. The lights over the stage were doused again to silence. When new lamps were lit, it was time for our ensemble to face the audience and bow in unison. It was almost like an earthquake the way the noise hit us as we bowed low and then straightened again. The applause was cacophonous. It echoed loudly in the cavern all around us. There was cheering, laughing, hooting and hollering. It was in that moment we all learned that dwarves hold in all of their reactions until the production has completely ended. Surprisingly respectful, actually, I thought. I was quite pleased at how well it had been received, in the end.

The cast shook hands and gave one another smiles and nods at a resounding success of what we hoped would be many more performances for our new dwarven benefactors. Once the commotion had died down, and Joren had bade the audience a good night, the dwarves began returning to their homes for the evening. This would be about the time where most of us would head to the local tavern to order drinks and celebrate an profitable first night. As is the custom with elvish theatre troupes, we celebrate wearing the costumes of the evening's performance, so I would continue playing the part of the pretty, yellow-clad damsel. It made little difference to me, elvish culture found the act of crossdressing humorous at worst. What could be said? A well-dressed elf in finery, be it male or female was something to be enjoyed and spectated. In tomorrow's production I was set to play a prince so this uncomfortable dress would only have to get me through the remainder of the evening.

The majority of our cast found its way to the nearest tavern called 'The Empty Cask' which was still quite a trek from our camp. We poured inside and set to ordering some of the dwarven ales the bartender recommended to us. It was in many ways a bar just like any other, although the walls and floor were all stone and the barrels which lined the back wall were larger than any I had seen and made of metal. The dwarves who frequented the establishment were nervous about their local pub being invaded by outsiders but their curiosity soon got the best of them and they began sitting with us, asking questions and telling jokes. We all drank and had a good time together. I sat with Aste and a few others from the troupe as we celebrated the night's resounding success. In too short a span I realized I had over-indulged in ale. My gods but the dwarves made strong drink! Aste laughed at me as I stood from my chair with some difficulty.

"A little too much drink, is it, milady?" She asked me with a wide grin. A couple of our friends at the table snickered as they watched me teeter.

"You can all just fuck off." I replied, though she was clearly right. "And though I am loathe to admit... I think I should be heading back to my wagon."

Her eyes grew somewhat wider. "Was that two mugs, truly? Should I escort you back, then?" She asked with obvious laughter in her voice.

"Despite my lovely gown, I am very much a male and capable of finding my own way home, thank you." I nodded to her curtly and began to weave between tables back to the front of the tavern.

As I approached the door I wobbled slightly and began to slip.

"Oh fuck." I said quietly.

I had thought there was a pillar closer to me than it actually was, but instead I began to fall over when suddenly an arm caught me on my way down. I looked up suddenly to see that the red-haired dwarf from the play had caught my arm as I descended and gently helped me back to my feet.

"Easy lass." He said quietly. "I suspect dwarven brew might prove a bit much for those not used to it."

"It-it has a kick to it." I replied lamely. It was very out of character for me to be this drunk, and I became quickly embarrassed. I wondered briefly what lass meant, it was not a word I had heard before.

The dwarf led me to a nearby chair and offered me his hand to help me sit. I waved it away.

"I saw the play tonight." He began. "It was something else. It was very moving, I've never seen anythin' like it before." His face was very earnest, it was cute in a way, how the stout folk lacked any sense of subtlety to their expressions.

I smiled. "Well I'm glad you liked it, sir dwarf."

He pulled his own chair in front of mine and leaned closer. His face suddenly turned quite red to match his facial hair as he prepared to say something that clearly made him uncomfortable. "I think, ye were the finest part of it." He gave me an awkward smile under his thick moustache and looked down. "Ye have a beautiful voice."

In spite of myself I gave him a smile in return. Though I hear many compliments regarding what I do, I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy them. However I knew too well not to lead men on that I didn't intend to bed. This shaggy fellow was certainly in that category. "I appreciate that, sir." I said kindly.

"Brom," he said.

"I'm sorry?" I asked.

"My name, it's Brom, Brom Forgebeard." He added quickly.

"I can see where you get your last name." I said with a small nod. "My name is Khel, and, elves don't really have last names."

I stood up, carefully. "Well Brom, while it is good to meet you, I'm afraid I need to get back to my bed for the evening. Dwarven ale is not to be taken lightly it would seem."

Brom stood too. I could tell by the way his shoulders fell he had been looking forward to speaking with me at length. He suddenly perked up a moment later and said, "Well, I wouldn't let a young lass wander around this neighborhood at night without an escort." I suspected I was beginning to understand what lass meant, and I was about to refuse the offer when I realized I didn't know anything about the type of neighborhood this was and couldn't be entirely sure I knew the way back to our caravan, especially in my current state.

We left the tavern and he offered me his arm. Honestly I didn't want to take it but I was very nearly stumbling. It was pathetic, and as I held onto his brawny arm I felt a flush of embarrassment again. I couldn't help but notice the heat of his bare skin where I held it just under his shirt sleeve. It was also covered in soft red hair. I wondered idly if the hair covered his entire stocky frame. I suspected it did. Brom made small talk as we walked, offering details about himself, like how he was born and raised here in Stonefield with his four sisters and one brother. He had been the third born of the children and they had grown up with little money and all had to work to help out the family. Brom went on to tell me that he used to be a soldier but changed vocations after a deep dragon killed and consumed his brother.

I stopped walking at hearing this. "I'm sorry to hear about your brother." I said in a sympathetic voice.

"It's okay." Replied Brom. "It was a long time ago."

"Also... a deep dragon? That's a thing to worry about down here?" I asked incredulously.

He cocked his head to one side, clearly puzzled. "Well no. I mean, they would never be this close to the surface of course."

"Of course, how stupid of me!" I said mockingly.

A look of recognition swept over his face. "Yer not knowing about these things are ye? Why would ye I suppose." He scratched his bald head and laughed, a loud, boisterous bellow. I decided he was likable enough. I might even ask him to have a drink with me tomorrow after revealing my actual gender.

He went on to explain that he was a merchant now. His wares included precious gems, metals, guano, mole oil and dragonbone. He had wondered about topside and its people for many years now but hadn't yet made it to the surface. He admitted that the stories he had heard from other merchants who had been outside were as terrifying as they were exciting.

"I mean, it can't be as wide and open as they say, can it? Sky it's called, right? And it just stretches out forever. I'd like to see that someday." He said.

He reminded me of a child in some respects, the questions, the curiosity. Of course the image of him couldn't be further from this notion. Walking next to him I began to really take stock of him. This was the closest I had ever been to a dwarf after all. He was about a head shorter than myself, and I am about a head or so shorter than a grown human male. By the lines across his forehead and at the corners of his eyes I reasoned he was middle-aged. He had a round nose and the bridge appeared like it may have been broken sometime in the past. His eyes intrigued me the most. They were a sort of light orange, like amber I decided. I had never seen eyes of that color before. He wore simple clothes, but they were of a high quality stitch and fabric, a shirt with short sleeves, heavy leather pants with matching boots and a wide belt with a large moulded buckle. Attached to his belt was a small coin purse and pocket knife. He wasn't fat exactly, at least not in the way humans and the occasional elf might look fat. His build was thickly muscled, from what I could make out: neck, arms, chest and thighs. His overall shape was like a barrel, a keg really. Fitting, I thought to myself. He glanced up at me as we walked, but if he caught me appraising him he gave no indication.

He went on about life in a dwarven city, how they know the cycles of day and night through the luminous mosses which changed their brightness between the two everyday. He stopped then and looked at me, mild alarm creeping into his face.

"I, I've been talking about me this whole time! I'd like to hear about ye! By the stone but I can be daft." He shook his head in an apologetic way.

I laughed at him. "I'm as curious about you as you are about me, Brom. Think nothing of it. Though I'm unsure where to start..." I trailed off.

"How long have ye been on the stage then?" He asked.

"As long as I can remember." I answered. "I was a war orphan and the troupe took me in just as I began to form memories. It's my family, my calling, I would be lost without them."

"It's where ye belong." The dwarf mused.

"I think so. And it lets me see the world. And yes, it is greater and wider than you could even imagine."

Brom gave a low chuckle and beamed a warm smile at me. I saw for the first time that even under the mess of beard, the aging exterior... he was actually quite handsome. For a dwarf I mean.

CHAPTER 2

We had been walking for maybe half an hour, and I had begun to sober up a bit. I finally asked him straight out, "Where exactly are you taking me, Brom? I know for a fact my caravan was not this far from the tavern."

He gave me a sheepish look. "Well, no, yer right. I uh, jes wanted to talk with ye some more. I meant nothing by it. I can get ye back straight away." He explained.

I considered his words and realized I had been enjoying talking with him as well.

"No harm done, and I have enjoyed hearing all about your home," I held his arm closer, "And you." I finished.

Brom blushed deeply and we continued walking for awhile in silence. As we crossed a small stone bridge over an underground river the way became a bit darker. Within a couple minutes I began to sense movement behind us. I let go of Brom's arm and turned quickly around. Two figures were lurking not too far behind, staying just out of the low light. I wasn't familiar enough with the area or dwarven antics to realize the danger immediately. Luckily Brom sensed my uncertainty and turned to see why I had stopped.

"Oy!" He barked into the darkness. "Show yerselves!"

Two dwarven men stepped forward and were just about ten feet away from us, one of them brandished a dagger. "Just need yer coin." One of them wearing a short black beard said in an even tone. "No need to act stupidly."

Brom tucked me behind him in a protective gesture with his body. "I don't have much, but if ye'll take it and go, we won't cause ye any trouble." Brom said slowly.

I backed up a little further which proved unfortunate as I suddenly felt strong hands grabbing me and I let out a shout which became stifled as one of the hands covered my mouth and the other twisted an arm behind my back. Brom whirled around and saw a third bandit had flanked us and now held me at his mercy.