Life was good.
The future looked bright, both for Dis, her family and for her people, and many others in truth.
It hadn't always been that way. Her youth had been characterized by poverty. Her parents, bless their souls, had to struggle mightily to put food on the table, and she knew they had been forced to resort to less than honorable methods to feed themselves and her. Their situation was not an uncommon one, as much as it was a universal one. It was a testament to the hardiness of the dwarven people that they had survived this long after the fall of their mountain kingdoms to the despicable goblins and the cowardly wizards that helped them. The loss of their mountain home and the machinations of the goblins had scattered the Dwarves all across Europe, where they were ostracized, marginalized and unwelcome. The goblins hunted them where they could, while the wizards looked on, sometimes offering empty platitudes and handouts to assuage their guilt. They lost all their leaders and artisans during those short months. Much of their history and culture was suddenly just... gone.
Her own many times' great grandfather, who had been a child at the time, had escaped by sheer luck and the skill of his guardians who had paid with their lives to see him safe. He was the sole heir to the throne of Nidavellir. And now he was the leader of the dwarven people. He was a child. Was it a surprise to anyone that things had gone as they had? Like a stone put under pressure, they had eventually fractured. The constant strain of their new reality led to infighting amongst the remnants of the clans and more blood was spilled, this time by their own hands. Kinslaying, it was a stain on her peoples' conscience that could never be washed away. Her great grandfather had not had the strength to keep them together, what child could have in the face of such horror?
In the end the Goblins may have defeated them, but it was by their own hands that they had broken, that they had failed. Before that, there might have been a chance, however small, of preserving some of what they had saved and one day reclaiming what they had lost. But it was not to be. The once united dwarven people scattered to the four corners of the land and beyond, preferring to now live in small family groups away from anyone else. Another mistake as history would show. For without enough of them in one place they numbers dwindled even more as few new dwarves were being born. Many chose to forgo having children outright, not wanting to bring them into this harsh world of disappointment and hardship.
This was the world that Dis had been born into, one without hope or opportunity. What benefits they had once enjoyed because of their illustrious past had long since corroded into dust, with only a few worthless baubles left behind, mostly because they hadn't been able to find anyone to fence them to. She stopped what she'd been doing and held up her right hand to look at the ring that rested on her middle finger. It was an odd fat little thing with some sort of mechanism set in the place usually occupied by some precious stone. The ring itself was plain steel with only one simple adornment, VI, the Roman numerals for the number six raised on each side of the mechanism.
The ring didn't carry any enchantment and the mechanism was inoperable, doing nothing as far as anyone of her ancestors had been able to discover. Her many times' great grandfather had carried it on a chain around his neck when he had been rescued. But did not know what it was for. It had been in the family ever since. Not because of any sentimental value it had but because no one wanted to buy it off them, and she knew it had been offered up as payment at times.
Dis shook herself and turned her thoughts back to what she'd been ruminating on previously.
Her upbringing had been difficult. She had been expected to help out with things as soon as she'd been able. No one could afford to let children be children, not if you were a dwarf. Mostly it was helping out in the family garden or tending the few animals they had been able to afford. It had just been a couple of chickens and a cow. They got by, if only just. She knew many who didn't even have that much so she had never complained, at least not to anyone but herself.
Then she came of age and it quickly became apparent that she was set to become quite beautiful, even by the standards of wizards. This brought with it its own set of problems and opportunities. Opportunities came in the form of the occasional job, primarily as a waitress at one pub or another. It never lasted long, for various reasons. Though, her temper was certainly one of them. Put a bit of alcohol into a man and he's liable to get a bit handsy, and she had no patience with anyone putting their hands on her without her say-so. She generally expressed her displeasure on the offender by way of her fists. And being a dwarven maid her fists were dangerous indeed. The fabled strength and hardiness of the dwarfs had seen her through many a scrape.
Unfortunately, it didn't help her keep whatever job she might have had. Not that they ever lasted long even if she managed to avoid any unpleasantness with the patrons. The goblins saw to that.
But it was during one of these scraps that she had met him, her future hubby. He'd rather rudely interfered in her latest fight with a pair of piggish wizards, which, admittedly, had been going somewhat badly for her, not that she would ever admit that to Torby. He was a scrawny beardless little thing in those days, dressed in shabby travel worn clothes and didn't look to have two sickles to his name. That was bad enough but then he had the audacity to think that his little rescue and what he thought of as charm would make her pliable to his advances. Hah! Still, he had saved her from what could have been a very unpleasant afternoon so she restrained herself a bit when he tried to hit on her and contented herself to using words instead of punching him in the face as was right and proper.
Dis thought that was the end of it. But the little rascal showed up again a few weeks later, and truth be told, he did manage a better pitch than the first time. Not that she was interested in this scruffy, penniless vagabond that wasn't even a dwarf. It was likely that she would have to settle for a scruffy penniless vagabond sometime in the future, but at least he would be a dwarf. She had told him that much to his face and he'd slunk away with his tail between his legs. Dis had been cetain that she'd chased him away for good that time and had felt the satisfaction of a work well done. Fortunately for her she had been wrong. Torby had many faults, but a lack of patience, focus and sheer bullheadedness was not one of them. It was a very dwarfish quality and one she admired greatly as it had laid the foundation for the life they now shared. That respect had quickly grown into genuine love thanks to his other fine qualities.
She hadn't seen him for a year and had quite forgotten about him at that time. But then she started hearing rumors of work being offered, available to dwarves, with good pay and decent benefits being offered. And whoever it was also offered the possibility of being able to borrow money as well. It was unheard of. No one lent money to dwarves, it just wasn't done because doing so would invariably end up angering the goblins and was liable to get you as ostracized and penniless as the Dwarves were. Naturally, she had looked into it and there he was. She didn't recognize him at first. He wasn't as scrawny anymore and his hair was longer and he had grown a nice beard, making him look almost respectable. It wasn't until he opened his mouth that the memory came back to her. She'd been astonished, to say the least. Gone was the dusty vagabond, and in his place was a well-groomed man of considerable means.
She had no idea where he'd gotten the money and resources that he had, and to this day she had not asked. She truly didn't want to know, it wasn't important in the long run. What was important was that he was offering hope and opportunity where before there had been none before. It was safe to say that she had bitterly regretted her harsh words and careless rejection of this man a year before. If she had not done that then she would now likely be benefiting from the riches he was almost carelessly strewing about. But she was a dwarf, and she was smart and beautiful, there was still a chance for her, even if she'd have to swallow her pride and humble herself before him. Her pride would be a small price to pay for the chance of a better life for herself and for her future family, still she worried that her harsh rejection previously would mar his view of her to the point that he would deny her outright. As it turned out she had little to worry about. She hadn't needed to go to him, he came to her! The very next day in fact. She'd been speachless when he'd showed up unanounced at her door and proclaimed himself.
He was still intent on wooing her! Dis hadn't quite believe her luck. Not that it stopped her from giving him what he wanted, eventually. She couldn't just hand herself over right away, he wouldn't appreciate her if he didn't have to work for it a bit. And appreciating her he did. Things had changed after that, and it kept changing. It didn't take long for their first child to be born, her beautiful daughter Lys. Her child, who would never have to suffer through all the things she had to endure when she had been growing up. She had never been happier. And then, when her daughter had been six, things had changed again. Lys had thrown a tantrum and turned her father green. Her daughter had magic, wizard magic! There had never been a dwarf that had been born with the gift, not ever. This changed everything! Previously she hadn't thought much about having more children, because while her life was now better, life for her people was still harsh, even if it was slowly getting better thanks to the effort of her husband. But things were still shakey and liable to break at any moment if only one thing went just a bit wrong.
But magic, magic was the great equalizer. If it was possible to introduce it to her people through her children then it would be another lever to use to drag the dwarves out of the cave in which they had found themselves in. And now they might have wizards and witches of their own to prevent something like what happened in the past from happening again. It hadn't been hard to convince her husband of having more children; he'd even been enthusiastic about the whole prospect. And nine months later Grond had been born. And ten months after that Fae had followed him. And both of them had been confirmed to have the gift by the time they reached their sixth year of age.
She and Torby had been having talks about having yet another child when Grond and Fae went off to Hogwarts when the lastest change in their lives had introduced itself in the form of Andreas Ahlgren, a boy that Lys had met at school and who had come into possession of knowledge relating to her people, knowledge that he had happily shared with her eldest child. She had been aware of Lys's ambitions, of course, she was her mother after all and her daughter told her almost everything. And she couldn't have been prouder of her, even if she recognized that the chance of one person recreating, or even approach recovering, what the dwarves had lost at the fall of their ancient home as a tad naive. Still, she had been supportive. Everything had to start somewhere, and if she was anything like her father Dis knew that she would find a way to make a difference.
But much like she had with her father she'd underestimated her daughters' resolve, and luck. And much as it had been with her husband, she was more than happy to have been wrong. If this is what being wrong leads to, then she would be content with being wrong often. What parent could ever find fault in their children exceeding their expectations after all?
She smiled to herself and closed her eyes and reached into that place within, that quiet place where the Ember resided, like a hot coal, glowing softly in the dark. The ancient power of her people, thought lost forever, now returned to them. She didn't know how Andreas had discovered it, her daughter hadn't said, and she didn't know why he had chosen to share it with her daughter, but she would be forever grateful to this boy for this unexpected gift.
It was her people's past, and possibly, their future.
Life was good. The future was bright. The fire of her people had been recovered.
Perhaps she could allow herself to dream, a dream of a future where they had reclaimed all that they had lost, all that had been taken from them, a future where the dwarves were a great people again. A future forged by the strength of her family and its friends. That was a good dream, Dis thought. It was a worthy dream, she thought.
It was a dream worthy of a dwarf.