Ultimate Level 1-Chapter 405: Preparing for a Wedding

“We need to hurry,” Fowl said as his pickaxe hewed another chunk of stone from the rock. “We’ve only got two more days before the wedding, and I’ve not found anything worth giving Batrire yet.”

Max snorted and glanced over his shoulder, looking down the tunnel they had created and watching the line of dwarves who were carting off the stone they had freed from their day of mining.

How much stone have we moved and all of the ore we found so far isn’t one he likes?

Too much, but you and I both know that he is taking this seriously. From what we were told, this is a big part of the ceremony.

Over and over the sound of Max and the two pickaxes he wielded rang out, making it hard for the dwarves who had tried singing as they mined, unable to find a cadence that matched his pace.

A flurry of swings dug him deeper into the dark gray stone, revealing veins of ore that Fowl had passed on dozens of times already.

“You two hold up! We need to brace the ceiling!”

A grunt came from the dwarven warrior as he stored the tool that was taking the brunt of his frustration.

“How hard is it for them to keep up? I mean surely they are used to my people mining like this.”

“I doubt they get two tower climbers who can do what we’re doing,” Max replied as he stored his pickaxes and began grabbing rock, storing the larger chunks to help speed up the process. “You and I both were told hours ago that they had to request extra wood because of how far we’ve gone. This is the sixth tunnel we’ve extended today.”

Fowl muttered and shrugged, helping to clear rock from the side he had been working on.

“You two need to slow down,” Longubam shouted. “Seriously, my workers are struggling to keep this mountain from falling in on you both.”

Max glanced at the dwarven foreman responsible for watching over them. His leather outfit had a lightstone attached to the front and back, as well as on his metal helmet, casting light in every direction.

With him close, it was now possible to see the thin layer of dust that hung in the air, neither him nor Fowl having any issues with it due to their high constitution.

“He’s in a hurry. We’ve only got two more days, and supposedly there is a certain type of ore he’s looking for to give his bride,” Max stated.

“Oh gods, I know. The king himself sent a note to my boss, and that’s why I’m here. Trust me, if we’re going to find the rose ore, it’s in this area, but like I said at the start, that stuff is rare.”

“Rare? Like how about nonexistent,” Fowl muttered, waving his hands in the air. “I mean, we’ve done more work than most teams would do in a week. Just how much of the other ore have we procured?”

A slight smile appeared on Longubam’s lips.

“Well, I’m way ahead on my required amount for a month at least, but none of that matters if we can’t find what you’re looking for. Still, trust me. We’ll stay at this as long as we can. Every one of us knows what this ore means to you.”

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Fowl nodded.

“Sorry… pre-wedding jitters. I… I shouldn’t get cranky at you over this.”

The foreman’s laughter echoed down the tunnel they had built as he held his stomach.

“What kind of dwarf doesn’t get cranky? Besides, soon you’ll need permission to be cranky!”

Both Max and Fowl started to chuckle, each knowing how true that statement was.

***

“Here!”

Max’s shout caused his dwarven friend to come scrambling down the tunnel, his metal cap bouncing up and down as he jogged, weaving past chunks of stone. Each step caused the area the lightstone illuminated to shift.

“Dear Ockrim, is it really there?” Fowl asked, arriving at the spot Max was waiting, a glistening line of pink ore sparkling in the wall, the vein of it slowly spreading to hide behind more rock.

“That’s what we’re looking for? Right?”

Rough, stubby fingers stretched out and began to touch the ore that Max had uncovered, and a grin broke out on the warrior’s face.

“It is! May the gods bless you with ten children, Max!”

His friend threw both arms around him and squeezed him tight, laughing the entire time.

“How about we get through one first and see how that goes?”

“Bah, you’re no fun. Now then, let me free this thing from its tomb, and then we can go!”

Max backed up a few steps and watched as his friend spat on both hands and rubbed them together, his pickaxe appearing between them, and began the process of removing the stone from around the vein.

Each strike was well done, and Max sensed Longubam’s presence as the dwarf drew near, not saying a word as the warrior worked at acquiring the ore that would be Batrire’s wedding gift.

They had worked nonstop, except for when they were forced to relocate down a different mine shaft, and finally on the eighth one were rewarded with this moment.

Soon, a rough, nine-inch section of pink ore set between the dark gray stone was in Fowl’s hand, and a smile so bright, it could illuminate a dark tunnel was present.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Max.”

Putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder, he nodded.

“That’s what family does. They spend their lives in the mine looking for something neither of us will ever use.”

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Laughing, the pair started to walk toward the exit.

“Uh, you two don’t want to help with all this?” Longubam asked as he pointed at the large chunks of stone lying on the floor.

“Nope!” Fowl shouted, not even looking over his shoulder. “I’m a warrior, not a miner!”

***

Fowl looked at his mother and father, neither of them saying a word as they sat in a small room the king had given them.

Greeta looked like she had sucked a whole crate of lemons, lips pursed and eyes narrowed as she stared at the carpeted floor.

Orstein sat in his chair, shaking his head as he glared at the woman.

“Mom… I know why you are upset, but this is the last time I’m going to ask. Are you wanting to come to the wedding?”

She grunted and then snorted, looking up at him.

“How is it you suddenly think you’re better than us?”

He shook his head and ignored the hand gestures she gave, motioning at herself and his dad.

“I don’t, Mother. I never thought I was. You… you always made sure none of us considered ourselves better than anyone.”

“That’s because none of us are important! Only the family and the tradition we have had for thousands of years! You turned your back on that! The first Hammerfall in over a thousand years to not take up the hammer and work the forge! Do you understand how much shame we felt because of that choice?”

Her voice echoed off the stone walls, the tapestries that lined two walls doing nothing to soften the edge of her voice.

“Greeta, you’re being a fool.”

Both of them turned to see the usually quiet dwarf shaking his head at her.

“What!?”

“I said,” Fowl’s father stated, clearing his throat as he spoke. “You’re being a fool! No one said anything about his choice. No one came over and mocked us or made fun of what he did. Only you turned it into something more than it was. Even though I wasn’t happy with his choice, it was hard to argue with the skills he was given. Still you—”

“So now you’re blaming me!?”

The sound of the stone chair grinding against the floor was almost as loud as her shout.

“Yes. I am.”

Greeta stood there, mouth open, her nostrils flaring as she wagged a finger at her husband. No words came, yet it was obvious from the glare she gave just how she felt about his statement.

“Is this what I’ve caused?”

Both of his parents turned to see Fowl sitting in his chair, a few tears running down his cheek and into his beard.

“What?”

Using a thumb to wipe away a few tears, Fowl sighed.

“Dad, have I caused all these problems with my choice?”

“Yes!”

“No,” his father replied. “She’s always been this way.”

“Bah, you ogre humping—”

Fowl realized his eyes were never wider than they were at this moment, watching his dad move quickly, grabbing his mother by her beard and tugging her toward him, mid-curse.

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“Listen to me, Greeta Hammerfall!” he growled. “I’ve put up with the abuse long enough, but I’m done. Our son is a hero! The king himself offered him a spot in his Guard—”

“Which he turned—”

A sharp tug cut her off, and Orstein’s finger poked her nose.

“Do not interrupt, woman! The king offered him a spot in one of the most sacred places in our entire kingdom. Ockrim himself showed his support by the token he gave. And yet you… you cannot see the shape of the weapon before you start to hammer the ingot. Look at that boy, able to wipe the floor with any dwarf in here, yet he sits there, tears on his face because all he wants is for us to come to his wedding.

“A wedding that many have believed would happen since he was barely twenty and smitten with Batrire. Probably one of the greatest weddings our kingdom will ever see since the king himself got married to Velda Stormfall. Yet even with all that, you still sit here and complain about honor and family.”

Letting go of the beard, Orstein frowned and began to rub his finger for a moment until a silver-colored ring appeared between two of them.

“You gave me this, and I have worn it every day since our wedding. You promised to love me and our family. To honor it and do everything possible to ensure the legacy of my family. Yet now…”

Fowl hadn’t realized he had risen from his chair as he watched his father act in a way he could only once remember him having done so.

“If you’re going to miss out on seeing how our son is about to bring the greatest honor our family has ever acquired in thousands of years, then I guess you have forgotten our vows, and I need to give you this back.”

A gasp came from Greeta as she glanced at the ring held before her and the frown on her husband’s face.

“But, his choice—”

“Was approved by Ockrim and our king. Acknowledge that, or take this right now.”

Grunting and almost choking, she stood there, glancing now between Orstein and Fowl.

“But his children—”

“It doesn’t matter in a moment if he has any children because you won’t be a part of their lives if you can’t get past this moment. I know you feel slighted. The pain you think you felt when we both learned he had been secretly training for this class while we thought he was off with her, stung for a bit. But now…”

Orstein sighed as he closed his eyes. It took him two more deep breaths before he opened them.

“Fowl Hammerfall has completed the 59th floor in the tower. He may potentially beat the entire tower. Even if he doesn’t, every dwarf for the next five hundred years will know his name. None of them, however, will know yours, unless you choose to deny him. If you do that, every dwarf will know your name as the mother who was so concerned with her own butt-hurt, that she missed out on having a relationship with the greatest dwarf in half a millennium.”

It took great effort for Fowl not to react. His heart felt like it was dying, and yet had never felt happier at the same time.

Hearing his father speak about him like this was a treat he had never experienced.

Yet knowing that those words were true almost broke him.

No one said a word, each of them standing there, not moving.

Orstein held the ring out before him.

Fowl stood there silently, praying to Ockrim for his mother to make the right choice.

Greeta still had her mouth partially open, not yet seemingly able to speak.

Dear Ockrim. For once I could use a little bit of that love right now.

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