The counsel was subdued as they lead their guests through the tunnels. It seemed that while the rest of the group had become rejuvenated after a night of rest, their hosts' evening of imbibing resulted in a humorous contrast of pale faces and stale breaths.

They had left late in the morning, passing through the tunnels quietly. Their sense of direction remained as mysterious to Aggie as the previous day, and she once again was lulled by teh absolute quiet and shadows.

It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that the group could hear it.

A din- one entirely more clamorous than the Settlement of the day before, reached them. The sound of countless voices talking, shouting, crying, laughing…

The sound of hammers, and shovels…

The smells of different foods mixed with the stinging scent of hot metal...

The muggy thick air of…

Everything.

There was a bright light at the end of the tunnel, and after a brief blink, Aggie found 2 Dwarves had appeared from the shadows. They faced the group holding axes that looked as though they weighed half of the Lady's entire being.

“Declarations, Ministers?” The Dwarf on the left had pale blue eyes, and wiry silvery blonde hair that curled and frizzed in the same was as his long beard.

The second Dwarf had a deceptively young clean-shaven face, short auburn hair, a bulb shaped nose, and eyes so dark they appeared like glittering black jewels.

“Threads are tied.” The Minister at the front nodded seriously, and in response, with a short but meaningful glance, the guard with pale eyes turned around and gave a piercing whistle.

“What was that?” Aggie whispered.

“I believe he is signaling others to inform them we do not pose a threat.”

As the group was permitted passed the guards and they turned the corner, Aggie let out a gasp.

Before her was a City.

Not a Settlement.

Not a large town…

A City.

It was perhaps only slightly smaller than the King’s ‘Settlement’, but the height of their structures was unlike anything Aggie had ever seen. The dirt ceiling of the massive stretch of open underground space, rose so high above them, that its apex was in encumbered in shadows. From the darkness, several steel ropes dangled that held in place the largest yellow gem Aggie had ever seen. It was the exact same rough oval shape of the gems that had been hanging over the Dwarvin homes in the first Settlement they had seen, only more than a thousand times larger and brighter.

While the centre of the City had its dwellings built of wood and dirt, surrounding the entire city on the dirt cavern walls, were lush plants cascading down the sides. A waterfall’s roar from somewhere beyond Aggie’s sight could be heard, and when Aggie looked down, she saw a river running along the perimeter of the City. Along the walls of plants, Aggie saw ancient runes etched in wooden signs or in stone, marking the start of each small narrow walkway. She assumed that they were the labels for the different species of plants and herbs.

“This is the first Dwarvin City. We call it; Traust Heima.” One of the Ministers Aggie had already forgotten the name of called back to them. Taking in their stunned expressions, the man looked rather pleased with his home.

Aggie was the first to regain her senses.

“What do you mean ‘the first Dwarvin City’?!”

Mistaking her tone for disgust the Minister with his fluffy white mutton chops and ear hair whirled around, but then saw the sparkling in her eyes and the pink in her cheeks, and smiled instead.

“We have 3. We have taken in Dwarves from all over the world since we have been in hiding.”

“Are we under the mountains?” Aggie asked breathily taking slow shaking steps further into the bright light of the City.

Every Dwarf within earshot burst out laughing, as though reminded of an inside joke.

Aggie, Arlen, Bonnie, and Declan all looked bewildered.

Ned turned to face them his face merry as ever.

“We are currently under the hills that lie in front of the North King’s Settlement.”

Aggie’s jaw dropped, and suddenly every Dwarf was roaring in uncontrollable laughter.

“Wait- there are 3 hills!” Arlen exclaimed over the Dwarves laughs and snorts.

It was the auburn hair guard who managed to reply.

“-And there are 3 Cities!” He gasped before laughing uproariously again, tears streaming down his face.

Aggie and Arlen stood looking stupefied for a full minute before she managed to formulate another question.

“Does the King know?!” Aggie cast her mind back to her meeting of the King, and suddenly her eyes swept over the Dwarves until they landed on Birgitte.

“Wait, the King knew about you being Tork’s wife, so he must know…”

“Lady, I am tall for a Dwarf, and therefore I pass for a very small human. The King believes me to be from a prosperous mining and crafting family that produces the North Kingdom with its stained glass windows, and sturdy stones for their masonry. They believe I originate from a small stone Keep in the mountains not far from Rockfell.”

Aggie cast a sidelong look at the group of Dwarves, then over to the Minkies backs.

“Do you all also own a small Keep on the surface in order to maintain a pulse on the world?”

“For that, and to create the illusion that Minister Birgitte Sed is, as she says, ‘just a small human’.” Ned smield teasingly at Birgitte who's expression immediately turned annoyed.

“I underestimated how the secret to hiding an advanced society is real estate.” Aggie muttered to Arlen whom grinned in response.

Shaking her head in awe, the Lady wordlessly confessed to herself that never in her wildest dreams could she have fathomed an entire race and society existed beneath the ground she had walked along only months before.

After another minute, the guards had regained their composure, and as they wiped their tears from their faces, turned and began to lead the group down a long narrow flight of stairs towards the City beneath them.

“So why are the Dwarvin kind in hiding?” Declan asked finally overcoming his shock.

Despite the group’s slow descent down the worn stone staircase- that didn’t have anything preventing someone from plummeting to their death on the ground far below on the right hand side, Aggie listened attentively.

Birgitte began the descent down the stairs close behind Aggie, and she was the one to answer the question.

“Before the War of Kinds, where the Kingdoms battled over the rights of Beast Awares, and the Thief of Souls manipulated the chaos to his advantage, men were already becoming greedier for power. The Dwarvin people are gifted with Magical Craft. Meaning, we can imbue magic into compatible gems, metals, and in some rougher more basic spells; rock.” Aggie nodded as her mind turned to the radiant gems that seemed to be the source of sunshine to the Dwarvin homes.

“-Only, our creations were being used to oppress people as opposed to aid, and when the humans began to become more threatening and demanding of our kind, we decided to vanish. Letting them believe that we slowly died out, and ensuring the balance of the world. Our Kind has always been known as drunken miners, but rarely do people recall we were once considered the wisest of Kinds. Our work with what nature gives us keeps us in tune with the balance of life and death.” Birgitte finished, holding her head proudly.

“The world isn’t all that balanced. Just ask my ‘Servicer’ here.” Aggie remarked grimly.

Arlen rolled his eyes to the ceiling but said nothing.

Once the group touched down on the ground level, every Minister turned to face their visitors and gave a perfectly in unison shallow bow.

“We have deemed you harmless. We will have you vow your knowledge of our kind to secrecy before you leave these tunnels.” The Minister with the white mutton chops spoke somberly, but when he straightened he locked eyes with Aggie and grinned.

“I look forward to hearing about your adventures, Lady Beatha.”

Aggie gave an awkward bow along with her companions, and once they were left on their own, she straightened.

“So if you all don’t mind a bit of a stroll, follow me! My workshop is on the other end of town, but if we travel along the back roads, it shouldn’t take longer than an hour or so to get there.”

Ned half jogged ahead of them, his wavy brown hair standing up on end- adding 2-3 inches to his height.

Aggie sighed wearily.

Her breakdown earlier in the day had taken a lot out of her-, not to mention she was feeling less than thrilled at her blatant show of emotion to her present company. Before she could continue the silent abuse of herself over her public embarrassment however, Arlen handed her an apple and chunk of bread.

“It’ll help with your energy.” He answered her questioning look without meeting her gaze.

Aggie looked at the food in her hands, and couldn’t explain why the gesture made her heart go to her throat. Instead, she tore into the bread and tried to thrust troublesome thoughts from her mind.

***

Lord Archibald Beatha stared at the rolling green fields that passed by the carriage window with the same strained expression he had donned since the day he had learned of his daughter’s death.

Clad entirely in black, and his body turned completely away from his wife, who currently sat on the opposite bench, at the other end of the carriage, he dimly wondered what his daughter had been thinking on the drive up to Duke O’Farrell’s Keep.

“How much longer could this possibly take?” Farrah’s husky angry voice broke the silence, and startled Archie into accidentally glimpsing his wife, whom defied the societal expectations of donning black, and instead wore a rich amber colored silk gown with lace embroidered at its hem and neckline.

Silently, Archie reminded himself to have the gown burned in front of her later.

“Should be within the hour.” Archie answered tonelessly. His green eyes that were normally startling bright in their color had darkened, and even Farrah couldn’t deny they were off putting.

Her gut twisted as she immediately shifted her gaze away from her husband. The journey to their daughter’s funeral had been the most time they had spent together in years.

Farrah had found that her anger towards him only grew with each passing day…

His solemn silence, flat tone replies to her questions, and his dark eyes made her squirm in her skin.

“It was kind of her fiancé to hold the ceremony.” Farrah added examining her soft hands and perfectly manicured nails.

Her husband said nothing.

“How long were you thinking of staying?” She tried the same question she had been asking him for the entire 2 week journey, determined to get an answer prior to their arrival to the Keep.

Finally fed up at his lack of response, Farrah felt her nerves begin to snap.

“You know what Archie-”

“You can see the towers ahead Madame!” The footman called back to her, cutting her off.

Farrah practically leapt out of her seat when she poked her head out the window, and saw the midnight blue and yellow flags that waved in sharp snaps of fabric in the icy wind in the distance.

“Oh thank the Gods!” She cried out. “Archie, hand me my black cloak won’t you?”

When Farrah pulled herself back into the carriage, and saw that her husband hadn’t moved an inch, nor acknowledged her request, she remembered that she had been about to lose her temper on him.

“Now see here! There is no reason for that nonsense attitude towards me, Archie. We are both here for the same reason. Let us just do what we have to do and be done with it, understood?” She demanded while using her most formidable tone that she’d use when trying to command her maids.

When her husband turned his stare to her however, she felt her blood turn cold.

“We are not here for the same reason at all. I am here to mourn the loss of my daughter. You are here to not lose face. Get your own damn cloak. Or are you now ashamed to admit you aren’t in mourning for her?” His voice was condescending and cold. Completely unlike the agreeable sensible man whom in the past, had just rolled his eyes at her antics and ignored her.

“She… She is the one who left him! She ruined our reputation, she-”

“When has Aggie ever been so horribly disobedient hmm? When did she EVER act out beyond attempting to ride a horse like a man? Did you know her at all? Your own damn daughter? Aggie would have left for only 1 of 2 reasons. She was either in danger, or she left by force.”

“What makes you so bloody confident?” Farrah trilled outraged before she continued.

“You saw her how many times during her life? A handful of times per year? Always absorbed in your stupid boats and business friends.”

“I always consulted her nannies, her governesses, and the staff. I wasn’t as present to her as I could have been, but damnit I loved-” Archie choked on the words, and Farrah felt as though someone had stricken her. In all her time, she had never seen her husband lose his composure.

“I loved her.” He finished hoarsely.

“She was… she was my little girl. Big green eyes… she had the best smile. Smart as could be… She had a propensity for trouble, and therefore tried to keep to herself but… so wonderfully genuine. I remember when I asked her if she found the Crowned Prince agreeable as a potential marriage partner merely out of curiosity, and no word of a lie, she looked disgusted, then responded with; ‘I hate to speak ill of our Prince father, but… the wig?’” He laughed, then rubbed his mouth gently as though trying to will away the smile.

When Archie finally stole a look at Farrah, he saw her ashen, sickened expression, and felt his face revert to a sneer.

“I should never have listened to you about the marriage to Sean O’Farrell.”

“You were plenty fine with it when I suggested him! She’d have to be a dutiful wife for only a few years before having her own freedom after his passing.” Farrah’s voice shook as she fought off the urge to be sick. Unwanted images from her time at the Southern Prince’s home flashed in her eyes…

Aggie’s weakened voice as she reached her pale battered hand through the bars of the cage towards her whispered in her ear.

"Mother?... Mum?” Farrah swallowed hard, and redirected her own stare to outside for the remainder of the journey.

Her husband didn’t know she had been present to their daughter’s suffering and death. And she intended to keep it that way.

When the carriage finally stopped, and the door was opened, Farrah found she had almost completely forgotten about the cloak. She hastily snatched the luxurious velvet, and covered her gown in less than a minute, before she reached her hand out, and stepped down. She gazed demurely into the piercing blue eyes of Sean O’Farrell, his expression as dower as ever.

As a result, she nearly smiled as an automatic response, before remembering that would not have been appropriate, and instead, she curtsied.

“I cannot tell you what your hospitality and generosity means to us.” She slowly rose, and kept her face turned respectfully downwards.

“Thank you for making the journey, and I offer my condolences.” Sean O’Farrell bowed stiffly, then waited as Archibald Beatha stepped out of the carriage without any assistance.

He was younger than Sean by at least 20 years, and he immediately saw that- of her parents, Agnes Beatha took strongly after her father. He was tall, and slender, with the same thick sandy brown hair, pale complexion, and startling green eyes-, though the color appeared darker. Perhaps it was the round gold-rimmed spectacles blocking a proper view of the man, but Sean felt as though the eyes should have been as bright as Lady Agnes’…

It was also the same defiant angry expression that met Sean’s gaze, and for a moment, the Duke almost felt as though the deceased Lady possessed her father.

“Lord Beatha, I am sorry for your loss.” Sean didn’t know why he was the first to bow to an inferior, but something in his consciousness was forcing him over before he knew it.

“I will go with our footman to ensure our luggage is unpacked correctly. Lovely gardens.” Archibald cast a brief glance at the row of guards and maids that had lined up to greet himself and his wife with a cold offhanded flit of the eyes.

He stepped back into the carriage swiftly, disqualifying any possible objections, and then knocked on the roof to alert the flabbergasted footman to head to the servant’s entrance.

Farrah gaped at the black carriage that rolled away, her cheeks burning in embarrassment as she turned back to Sean O’Farrell.

“Please pardon my husband, my Lord. He has been out of his senses since the loss of our daughter.”

“It is understandable. Shall we?” Sean offered his arm to Lady Farrah whom seemed the most sensible of the family, and began the dutiful march up to the front doors where black silk flags hung in mourning.

*

Archie rubbed his eyes willing the tears to cease, and the shaking in his hands to stop. When the carriage finally stopped, he heard the pleasant voice of a stable boy speaking to his footman. With his hand on the brass handle of the carriage he was about to exit, when the frantic tones of a woman stopped him.

“Oh Gods! I don’t know how her father knows, but he has to know!” She gasped.

Archie stayed glued to the spot, and hoped his footman had the good sense to remain silent.

“There’s no way he could know Clara.” The stable boy soothed.

“I don’t know Killian! The look he gave the Duke… it was as though he was ready for murder! He has to know about Lady Beatha’s stay here.” Her voice had dropped closer to a whisper, but as luck would have it, the 2 moved closer to the back of the carriage, near Archie’s open window, for the discussion.

“The man is grieving for his daughter. He must put some blame somewhere for her death. Do not read too much into it.” The boy sounded in fact closer to a man, and this realization somehow prompted Archie to confront him.

He opened the carriage door, and looked directly into the eyes of the stable lad, who looked close to his mid to late 20’s.

Hazel eyes stared back wide with shock.

“Get in.” Archie ordered, his tone unyielding.

“You see my Lord, I really cannot-”

“If you value your wellbeing, you will enter this carriage.”

Swallowing visibly he gently pushed the maid out of Archie’s line of sight.

How chivalrous.

Killian slowly stepped into the carriage, adn once seated, Archie fixed the maid with a dark frown.

“I would not mention this occurrence to anyone, understood?”

The poor girl was trembling as she nodded quickly, and backed away- her freckled face pale in the under the cold cloudy day.

With a slam, the carriage door shut, and the curtain covering the window fluttered closed.

Turning towards the young man sitting across from him, Archie’s expression remained threatening.

“I would like you to tell me everything that happened to my daughter since coming to this Keep-, and please know, I have been one of the most prosperous Merchants in the Southern Kingdom because I know bullshit when I hear it.”