[Folwren]

Bror turned over on his bed and opened one eye. It was dark in the room that he slept save for underneath the door where the light of one of the dim night lamps flowed under. The stillness of the place around him told him that it was still early and outside the mountain, morning was still dark, but it wouldn’t stay that way for more than an hour. He got up and half rolled out from under the blankets and walked silently to the door to open it a crack, allowing a little more light in. Making as little noise as possible, he dressed himself and then took up the few weapons and armor that he would need on the trip in his arms.

He bore everything to Riv’s kitchen, passing as silently as a shadow in the halls, for he had left his boots beside his own door. Skald had set his stuff on a chair the previous evening and Bror piled his armor and weapons with his cloak beside that. After casting a last glance over his things to make sure that was all he needed, he walked to the counter. The four mugs that had been used the previous evening for ale were still sitting on the counter top. He stopped and considered them carefully. After a moment, he gave a determined nod and stepped forward, took two of them and filled them both with water and then left the place as quietly as he had come.

Going as swiftly as he could with full mugs of water, Bror made his way to Skald’s room. He stopped outside the door and with bated breath, leaned his head towards it to listen for any movement from within. There was none, and he ventured to push the door open.

It swung in noiselessly and he entered. No light was lit and in the utter stillness, Bror could hear above the blood moving in his own ears, the sound of Skald’s breathing. He still slept. The young dwarf tiptoed to his bedside and putting both mugs into his right hand, he very gently moved the blanket down and cleared Skald’s chin of it.

Bror nodded with satisfaction. His left hand took back its own mug and then he extended both hands above Skald’s face, stepped back half a foot, and let both water contents fall in even, flowing streams straight onto the sleeping dwarf’s sleeping features.

Bror bounded backwards as light as a deer, still clutching the mug handles in his hands, as Skald sat up with a roar. The water streamed down his beard and neck, most of it being soaked up in his hair, but the rest wetting the bed clothes. Bror retreated to the lighted hall and then stuck his head back in to venture one comment.

‘I would have rigged something far more complicated and far more satisfying for the both of us, but there wasn’t any time, and there wouldn’t have been time to clean it up afterwards anyway.’