It was two days later when he spoke with Anda for the first time. He’d been sent back to the main office by Kaspov with a list of items they needed for their next job, and after enduring an hour with Maxom pacing up and down dusty aisles looking for some very specific rivets and bolts that Kaspov needed to make a repair he was ready to be rid of the grumpy dwarf. Jonathan looked through the box doubtfully as he walked back. He wasn’t entirely sure which one was which as he looked through the box, but as he came around a corner on a narrow street he practically ran down the smaller dwarvish girl.

“Easy there giant,” Anda said, nimbly dodging out of his way.

“Sorry!” Jonathan called out. It was one of the few words he used often, so he was particularly good at it. Literally it translated into something like ‘no excuses,’ but it was how dwarfs apologize to each other.

“Well look at that,” she smiled, slightly, “He’s not just a trollslayer, but he can actually speak the stone tongue. Praise the ancestors.”

Jonathan knew that she was mocking him, but that was fine. This was the closest he’d been to a female voice in years. As far as he was concerned she could bully him the way Fedon had for so long and he’d still enjoy it. As it was she spoke much faster than he was used to, so she was difficult to follow though. The dwarves on his crew still used simple phrases with him and talked a little slow so he could keep up, but Jonathan still got the gist of what she was saying. “A little,” he said, “But I understand more than I say.”

“Well then human, I’m Anda, and you’re the talk of the town.” Her news made him raise an eyebrow, but he was sure it was an exaggeration at the very least.

“I am Jonathan,” he answered clumsily, suddenly having difficulty stringing together even a simple sentence now that she’d put him on the spot like that. The dwarves he worked with called him a hero regularly as a joke. It had practically become his nickname.

“Well Jonathan,” she said, pronouncing in an especially cute way as Jon-All-Thane, “I’m a little turned around. I don’t come to this area too often. Maybe you could help me find this address.” As she spoke she produced a form and held it out to him. It might have been a bill or an inventory for all he knew though. He could recognize some of the numbers on it, but without context he could make neither heads nor tails of them.

“Sorry. I cannot read this.” Jonathan said, shaking his head.

“Huh.” she said, putting the paper away. “I’d heard that men were almost all illiterate. I guess it’s true after all.”

“I am not…ummm…” he struggled to come up with the right words. “I read several languages. Even dwarvish numbers, but not your letters. I only speak dwarvish.”

“Is that so,” she answered skeptically. “Well I'm looking for Cratestradda 14. You know which way that is?”

Jonathan smiled, because he actually did. He spent a minute explaining to her how to get there, ultimately drawing in the dust of the alley with a finger to show her the path. She was only a few blocks away after all.

“That was actually helpful,” she said, the surprise obvious in her voice. “How’d you get to be so useful anyway?” Jonathan was surprised by the backhanded compliment and looked up, surprised to find that kneeling like this he was suddenly very close to her. Uncomfortably close. He stayed like that a moment though, unable to look away as his eyes locked onto her deep grey ones, with only hints of blue around the pupil.

“I live near there.” Jonathan said finally, standing up.

“You live there? Where?” she asked. “That’s the warehouse district. It’s hardly a fit spot for living, even for a man.”

“I live in warehouse. Number 27 Kegstradda,” Jonathan shrugged, “Dwarf homes too small. Warehouses are better for giants.”

She smiled at that, “Well, that's certainly true. See you around giant,” she called walking away. Jonathan watched her go, more than a little blown away by the whole exchange. He never would have planned on talking to her - not in a thousand years, but just like that it had happened.

Jonathan hurried back to work, but even so he’d taken nearly a third of a watch to run his errand, and Kaspov immediately started to give him grief for it. “Ye sure you ain’t limping boy?” He asked sarcastically when Jonathan finally barged into his office with the heavy box of fasteners. “Because about the only excuses I’d accept at this point are that you faced off against another band of goblins or that yer old war wounds were acting up.”

“I’m sorry Kaspov. I didn’t mean to take so long but—”

“Come on Jon,” Kaspov chided him,” In stone tongue. You’ll never get better at this rate.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Sorry,” Jonathan said, taking a moment to find the right words. “Maxom could not find so he took forever, and then I run into messenger, and help her find address.”

“Messenger eh? Ye mean that Anda girl? I’d love to run into her a time or two myself if you catch my drift.” Kaspov grinned at his own joke, but Jonathan didn’t quite know what to say. “Ye though. Ye should steer clear of her, no matter how pretty she is. Nothin good can come of it.”

“What you mean?” Jonathan asked, “She seem nice.”

“Aye. I agree. She seems nice in all the right ways, and that’s exactly the problem,” he nodded, “Ye decide to make friends, then do it with the lads on the crew - ye hang out with a pretty dwarven lass and people might get the wrong idea.”

“Wrong idea?” Jonathan repeated the phrase dumbly.

“Yeah - you know, that there might be something between you two. I mean I know that nothing would ever happen between you and a dwarven girl, but let’s just say I have some perspective on the issue.” Kaspov was silent for a second while he stared off into nothing. “Back in me mercenary days I got to know a human woman pretty well. It just about got me run out of town by an angry mob. People ain’t always rational about these things, and an outsider like ye doesn’t need more enemies than he already has.”

Jonathan nodded, even though he didn’t really understand, and left Kaspov’s office to get back out with the rest of the guys. Ostensibly, they spent the rest of the day working on the train, but Jonathan was lost in the fog of his own thoughts. Why would Kaspov feel the need to warn him away from someone he’d only ever spoken to once, and would likely never meet again, why was he so distracted by her in that moment in the alley, and most importantly, despite all that, why did he really hope he wanted to see her again? Jonathan knew the allure of pretty girls as much as anyone. Claire had been incredibly distracting to him for almost a year before he was forced to take that long dark train ride away from everyone he’d ever known. Anda wasn’t really a woman though, was she? She was a dwarven woman, and that was barely the same thing, right?

Jonathan got no answers. He just spent the rest of the watch chasing his thoughts in circles, then on the way home he stopped by the market and traded a few coppers for some hot skewers of what the merchant assured him was chicken. Jonathan ate as he walked. It didn’t really matter if it was chicken or lizard, he decided. Either way it tasted delicious.

Once home he gave himself a good scrub and then lay in bed reminiscing about home. He didn’t often think about Dalmarin these days, and not because it was too painful anymore. It just felt too much like someone else’s life now. Something about seeing a beautiful woman and being close enough to smell her, even if she wasn’t human, made it almost impossible to get Claire off his mind.

When someone knocked on the door and finally removed Jonathan from the endless loop about his redheaded sweetheart, he was actually grateful. Having a bunch of strange dwarves tromping through his impromptu home to bring in some boxes or to take out some crates was never fun, but at least they weren’t doing it while he was asleep this time.

“It’s open,” he yelled. Sitting up in bed. He wasn’t fully dressed, but he was wearing a pair of short pants that were all that remained of a previous pair of trousers that had gotten shredded over the years. He’d had to get a few new pairs custom made in Khaghrumer, but none of them were half as comfortable as the clothing he’d brought with him from the surface, so he saved his new clothes strictly for work at this point.

Jonathan had expected Maxom or perhaps a few of his employees to open up the door. That wasn’t who he saw when the large wooden door swung open part way to reveal an alluring silhouette. It took a moment to realize that he was looking at Anda.

“So you really do live in a warehouse,” she said, stepping inside as she looked around the primitive space that had slowly become his room. “I love what you’ve done with the place.” At one point it had just been a pallet in a stretch of empty floor, but over time he’d arranged a few boxes to form shelves and storage for his meager possessions. Now it was less of a prison cell and more of a hermit's refugee.

Why are you here?” Jonathan just managed to get out of his throat, even as he practically choked on the words. His cheeks grew hot at her sarcasm, but once he realized he was shirtless, he blushed in earnest.

“I just wasn't sure I believed ye,” she said, walking in and looking around the room rather than at him while he reached for a shirt he hopped was clean. “I mean - who lives in a warehouse, really? I was sure you had to be joking, but… Here we are, in a warehouse, with the trollslayer himself.”

“Why call me that?” Jonathan answered, starting to get a little annoyed.

“”Why? Because that’s what everyone call’s ye, didn’t ye know? You’re practically a celebrity. Khaghrumer is a city of over a hundred thousand dwarves, but there’s only one man, and he’s the only troll slaying wizard you’re likely to find anywhere in the deeps.”

“That is not true. My friends call me Jon. They would have told me if everyone was talking about me.” Jonathan tried to sound confident as he spoke, but he wasn’t so sure. This was just the sort of thing Kaspov might decide to keep from him,

“Maybe, maybe not.” she said, walking towards him, “Are you calling me a liar? That’s a serious thing to tell a dwarf. Especially a woman.”

Jonathan swallowed. She was still more than arm's reach away from him, but she felt uncomfortably close all of the sudden. “If you are …ummm - honest, then tell me why you here.” His grasp of dwarven faltered briefly as he looked for the right word, and Anda’s presence didn’t make things any easier.

“Isn’t that obvious,” she smiled in a way that made his heart skip a beat, “I want to get to know ye.”

“Why,” he croaked, trying and failing to look away from her.

“Let’s just say that I find ye intriguin, outsider.” as she spoke she sat down on a small box near his bed, putting just enough space between them that he could breathe again. “Dwarven women aren’t allowed to go to the surface, and we rarely leave the city we’re born into, so talkin to ye is the only way I’m ever going to get the chance to explore the wider world, even if your stone tongue is terrible.”