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Brothers	By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 1830 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Nine - Thomas Conway, Age 30
The day had passed painstakingly slow, the rain finally cleared up around lunchtime. Thomas had tried to send people away once his son was located but they refused to leave. The women had helped cook meals for everyone and the men started a large fire below the cliff side once the rain stopped. Grant had taken care of the farm animals at some point. Thomas just stood or sat at the edge of the mountain that held his son. He had shrugged off the blanket someone draped over his shoulders, if Nathaniel couldn't have the warmth of it, neither would he.
At one point in the morning his young son had become frantic, begging for his papa to come get him and there was nothing he could do but shout useless encouragement. The worry grew when the small cave became silent but Thomas refused to yell out hoping Nathaniel had given into his exhaustion and was napping during those moments. It was sometime after lunch, Thomas was sitting on the ground his arms and head resting on his knees, when two small arms wrapped around his neck from behind. He turned to find his red-headed daughter, Janice, nestled up against him. "What are you doing here, baby girl?" he asked picking her up and placing him on his lap. Only then did he take the nearby blanket and wrap them both in it.
"Foster brings me," she said, pointing to her older brother who was standing near the blazing fire, looking up at the cave his young mind lost in thought.
"Papa!"
Thomas watched Foster startle at Nathaniel's cry as he called out, "I'm here, my son, did you take a nap?"
"Papa … Daisy having babies!"
"Oh great," Thomas whispered. "Just let her be then, Nathaniel," he shouted. "Mommy dogs get grumpy when they are having babies.
"It's yucky," came the reply and Thomas had to grin.
"Nathaniel!" Foster yelled.
"Brother?" Thomas tried not to be concerned at the fact the voice of his trapped son was growing weaker.
"I love you, you're my brother … my only one … I'm sorry I was mean …"
"You don't hate me no more?"
"I never hated you," Foster shouted. "I was stupid …"
"You said it," Nathaniel cried down his small voice breaking. "I heard you … you hate weasels too wish they were dead …"
Foster's face crumbled and Thomas quickly stood. Still carrying Janice, he ran over to his son wrapping him up in his free arm. "He's just a babe," he said, "he doesn't understand."
"I'm sorry," Foster shouted. "I love you."
"Love you too," Nathaniel shouted back. "Papa, there is another puppy … one … two … three … four … five puppies Papa!"
A weight seemed to lift off Foster's shoulders and he stood a little taller. "What are we going to name them?" he hollered.
"I no know if they girls or boys!" Nathaniel replied.
Thomas relaxed a bit himself as the boys shouted back names to each other, Janice joining in. His moment of peace was short lived when his son once again called to him begging to go home.
"I'm sorry, my son," he shouted back. "We can't reach you. Help is coming; I need you to be brave a little longer."
The hours dragged by. Norah came and collected Janice at one point but Foster refused to leave, hovering close to his father and the other men. Against his will Thomas found his eyes drifting shut from exhaustion. Night had settled in and thankfully the sky was clear, a thousand stars twinkled. A gentle hand on his shoulder shook him awake during a napping moment. "Your son is calling for you," Grant said.
"I'm here," Thomas shouted.
"Papa, I don't feel good … can I come home yet?" Nathaniel called down. "I'll be good I promise."
Emotions overcame him and Thomas dropped to the ground covering his face with his hands as he sobbed. Foster's arms wrapped around his shoulders, "it will be okay Papa," he said.
Suddenly there was a loud cry in the night sky.
"Look!" someone shouted.
Thomas followed the pointed arm and saw a dozen stars swooping in closer from the west. No they weren't stars they were lit torches, soon the night air was filled with the flutter of a dozen wings.
"The dwarves!" Foster shouted.
Thomas stood as one of the mighty griffons landed on the ground beside the fire. He had seen dwarves before so wasn't surprised by the undersized man that slid of the beast's back. However, it was the first time Foster had seen a descendant of the earthen. "I'm taller than you!" he gasped.
The new arrival eyed his son for a long moment and then turned toward Thomas. "Thane Kurdran sends his regards," the stout dwarf said, his voice thick with the accent of his people.
"Thank the Light," Thomas said, dropping to his knees. Around them five more dwarves landed on the back of their graceful griffons. "Please, my son has been trapped up in the mountain since last night, he's just a babe."
A callused hand gripped his shoulder. "We'll get the wee one out, no worries, lad," the dwarf said. "No mountain has ever stopped a dwarf from Wildhammer." He turned to the others of his clan. "Truk and Claira fly as close as you can to the wee one's haven, see what we have to work with. Agnar and Drakk test the stability of the mountain, see if we'll be able to use chocks safely to climb."
Thomas could only stand back and watch as the dwarves went to work. It seemed more prudent to stay out of their way then offer any aid. The two sent to scout his son's location returned and spoke to their leader for a moment. The female of the pair, Claira, started to take off her armor, revealing brilliant blue tattoos on either side of her face, down each of her cheeks. Soon she was dressed in simple leathers. She took a small pouch offered to her and a shield and then climbed behind the dwarf named Truk on a griffon. The pair took off again and circled the small cave.
"Tell ye son to get as far back into the cave as he can," the dwarf leader instructed.
"Nathaniel, are you awake?" Thomas shouted.
"Papa?" The small voice called down. "Papa, there a big bird outside!"
"They are here to rescue you," Thomas replied. "I need you to move you and Daisy as far back as you can."
"Daisy?" the dwarf asked at his side.
"Our dog," Thomas said. "And I guess she had puppies up there too."
The stout man shook his head and shouted the information to the two dwarves circling overhead. Suddenly the griffon dove towards the cave, at the last moment Claira jumped off and slid into the hole. Her landing caused a mild rockslide but she used the shield she held to block the opening like a door. Once it was over she released the shield and let it bounce down the cliff.
Thomas's relief almost overwhelmed him; his son was finally not alone. "She brought supplies with her for the wee one." The dwarf at his side said, "And some ale for herself, to keep her company."
"Maz!" The shout came from the woman in the cave. "The dog up here is stiff in death; the puppies are still warm, the wee one has been holding them close. The lad, doesn't want me too, but going to move the momma out."
A short moment later Daisy's still body tumbled down the hill. Foster let out a cry and ran over to her, but the dwarf had been right she had long since left this world. Some of the men standing by helped move the dog out of the way and the dwarves continued to work.
"Sir," Foster said approaching the seemly leader of the dwarves. "Couldn't you just fly him down with your griffon?"
Maz glanced over at the question, Thomas moved to pull his son away but the dwarf raised his hand and shook his head. "Does seem like that would be the easiest, doesn't it lad? Well, you see for a griffon to keep flight it must move its wings, which would cause loose rocks to fall or worse. Claira could jump with the wee one on her back, she's an expert rider but dwarves aren't exactly made for jumping. Nay, just give us a bit more time; we'll have the babe down soon. Agnar, what do we have to work with?"
A dwarf with a bright red beard and tattoos to match down his arms answered. "The loose dirt here is several feet deep it would take us a few days to clear it out. But Truk says there is a ledge that looks solid about a hundred feet above the fissure. Thinking that is our best bet for a quick rescue, Maz."
"All right," Maz said. "Truk, Harggan, and Drakk you get started, I don't trust the weight of the ridge with all of us. Agnar you tend to the griffons …" Pausing he glanced over at Thomas. "The griffons are hungry from their flight, fresh meat is the best. If you have some extra …"
"I'd clear my storeroom for you," Thomas said. He glanced up at the cave.
Maz followed the look. "How's the wee one, Claira?" He shouted.
"I cleaned him up, wrapped him a fresh tunic. He ate a little, drank a lot and is now sleeping in my lap as are the lil fur balls. The babe insisted to share his drink with them."
Nodding his thanks for the information Thomas hurried back to the homestead. He gave his wife the welcomed news; the children had already fallen asleep, worn out from the day. She helped wrap up some shanks of venison. He took a moment to voice his thanks to the women sitting in the living space, some with sleeping children in their arms.
"You would do the same for us," Tessa Redpath said. "Go, we'll keep the hearth lit for you."
Shouldering his bulging pack he rushed back to the mountain. The dwarf named Agnar voiced his approval of the food he brought and tossed the meat to the hungry griffons that tore it apart. Foster and Grant appeared with buckets of water that were given to the winged animals afterwards. Then it was back to waiting as the dwarves slowly made their way down the mountainside, with only the light from the fire below to work from.
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Brothers