[piosenniel]

‘Mami! Mami!’ came the high piping voice as he spied the smiling face of his father peer round one of the entryway’s stone uprights that led into the Stonecuts’ kitchen area. Leifr ran fast as his little legs would carry him, his feet slap-slapping over the smooth, polished floor.

‘There’s my boy!’ cried Riv, crouching down, arms outstretched. He gave the boy a gentle bearish hug; then holding him at arms’ length he kissed him on the brow as his fingers went up to brush back several errant curls. Leifr clung to his leg, giggling, as Riv rose up, taking a ride along one his father’s great thick leg as he made his way with one stiff leg across the kitchen to his wife.

Unna was watching from her place by the granite sink. She had turned at Leifr’s cry, her eyes kindling with relief and laughter. Leaning her back against the lip of the sink, she dried her hands on her apron, watching with delight the approach of her husband.

‘What?!’ said Riv in a deep voice, his brow raised as he stopped and looked toward her. ‘Where’s my girl? The one who used to come running when her handsome hero returned from dangerous missions?’ He motioned for her to come over to him. ‘I’ve one leg left, my dear. Wouldn’t you like a little ride about the kitchen with the little lizard on my other leg?’

A bright ripple of laughter escaped, filling the space between husband and wife. ‘Oof!’ returned Unna, her laugh now quieted into a smile. ‘I’m sure I would crush your hero’s feet, boots or no, if I were to take up your offer.’ Her hand strayed down to rest on her great belly. ‘I’m afraid while you were gone my weight’s gone up a stone and a half at least!’ She drew near him and placed his hand on her rippling belly. ‘The baby’s dropped. And I’m eating constantly . . . seems he . . . or she,’ Unna said, looking up into Riv’s face, ‘needs food, food, and more food for this last spurt of growing.’

‘Grandma says she’s like a starved dragon, Papi,’ Leifr put in. ‘Eat anything not hidden under a rock.’ Both his parents burst out in laughter at this passed on comment.

‘Come, sit down,’ said Unna motioning to Riv’s chair at the table’s head. ‘I’m not that ravenous. There’s a bit of ham left and a loaf of bread from today with sweet butter. And you’re in luck, I just finished tomorrow’s soup and left it near the fire to gently cook.’ She soon had a hearty meal set before him, and a cup of ale. For Leifr she poured a small cup of cider and gave him a sugared cookie, studded with nuts. Seating herself to Riv’s right, she picked at pieces of his buttered bread, watching him fondly as he ate. ‘Is this the last of the Elves coming through,’ she asked as he chewed on a bit of ham and bread. Will you be close about now . . . at your own forge?’

He smiled, knowing the answer she desired . . .