^^ Danilovich the Fen, lightly armored ^^

--- Dimitri ---

Before I could scream at them, Tamil raised a finger. "First, allow me to say that I don't have to follow your orders. Second, Davila has three full-grown Giants with her. We've just seen what 250 can do... and wow. I'd hate to fight your people on a battlefield."

"Hmm... well, this is only two Clans, actually. There's 24 more pairs of around 250-400 each that make up the Border Clans. The Olmedie Clan is our nearest neighbor. Their craft is Archery and Fletching." I pointed at their village, just barely visible in the distance to the left of ours.

She nodded. "Very cool. Their archers are good, and their bows well-made. Now, Davila has another six hours of Labor before she's ready to push, at least, so if this was your way of wasting time, you'll need another battle for that." She shrugged.

I hummed. "Fine... but now you have to help the children hunt these down." I stomped on one of the last Bugs.

She blinked. "Tree-Bugs? Why?"

"They eat our Cattle... and children." I growled.

She nodded. "Ah. That's a problem. Alright, Demos. Let's go hunt some bugs!"

I chuckled and loped quickly over to the crowd of warriors who were sitting in the main square, preparing to burn the three Fallen in the Rune Forge.

I set an entire cask of ale under me as a seat, and watched as their bodies were burned unceremoniously, and one of them was suddenly illuminated, as a Valkyrie plucked his soul out of his body, and carried him off.

Petrie grinned, and nodded. "Very nice, I suppose he gets to keep fighting, eh? Lucky prick..."

I cracked the cask of ale as we all laughed, and horns were produced. Soon, we were drinking, and holding near-silent vigil over the ashes until they mixed with the coals, which would take a few hours, or at least three.

Father spoke from a shadow I hadn't peered into, surprising me. "The South House wants me as an Elder." He said morosely.

The entire group of Giant gazed at him, a surprising lack of judgement in their eyes.

"I don't know how I feel about it. I'd have to leave the Fell... retire..." he shivered. "And then what? Sit around arguing all day? It's not for me, I don't think... but we must have more Fell on both Councils, not just dominate the Warriorborn Council... so I'll ask. Should I accept?" He gazed directly at me.

I shook my head. "You're not old enough to retire. You'd go crazy without something physical to do."

Petrie nodded. "You're not even half my age! No. Definitely not. If anything, Maci should go." He nudged Davila's great-aunt, who was taking out her curlers.

She frowned. "Shut up, boy, before I break you in two."

He nodded. "Exactly. Anyone old enough to call me 'boy' is definitely Elder Material."

"Not for that damned South House, I won't." She snapped. "East calls, I'm all in, but South can kiss my hairy tw-."

"Okay, we get it!" Petrie shivered.

She smirked and took the last one out, fluffing her hair. "Well, that's all well and good, but now's when I'd normally wake up... I wonder what I'll do today..." she scratched her cheek thoughtfully, removing a speck of blood.

Dawn started breaking, and I watched the young Fell chasing and killing the Tree Bugs. I saw Simon, and frowned. "Simon the Brave! Why are you chasing bugs? Leave that to the children! Come here!"

He crushed the one in his hand, and slowly approached.

I pushed a horn of ale into his hand, and then sat him down next to his Father, who rubbed his hair swiftly, before murmuring in his ear. 'We'll talk later, about how you ended up on the front lines with the Warriors, instead of lighting arrows like you should have been, boy...'

He shivered, and tasted the Ale, coughing as the burn raced down his throat.

I grinned. "There you go! Half a man already! Petrie, did you see him?"

He laughed. "Oh I saw. I saw him kill that spider, and then smiting all those Jack's, and leading a charge into a wave of Rabbits! Simon the Brave, indeed... we'll get you another spear, Simon." He nodded.

He bowed his head, confused.

I clapped his back gently. "Welcome to the Fell, where Deeds speak louder than age or words. You didn't run, and you fought well. Simple as that. We reward excellence, here."

He nodded slowly. "All I did was stay alive..."

"Oh really?!? Then, keep doing that the same way, and you'll be Chief before long!" Petrie laughed loudly.

I chuckled and set my sword in my lap, slowly cleaning it and checking for imperfections. Once I saw nothing worrying, I checked the newer blade.

Not a single blemish stole from the perfect surface or edge of the blade, and having been quenched in the blood of its enemies, it sang with power and emotion.

I cleaned the blood off, and then sheathed it again.

Simon looked at the sword. "What Rune-Stone is on that Sword? It was doing... weird things."

I chuckled. "It's an Odin Futhark Rune. It means 'The Unknowable'. It's a symbol of Uncontrollable Magic, and Fate."

He nodded slowly. "Oh. Okay."

---

I paced in front of the healer's house, listening to Davila curse up a storm, but otherwise sound no worse than the time she'd gotten a spear through her collarbone, on a hunting trip. Tanke still bore the scars where she'd rammed it through his knee, after pulling it out of herself.

Alene said something I didn't catch, and I turned, catching a club upside my skull.

---

"Wake up." Alene said calmly, kicking me gently.

I groaned and sat up. "You... are an evil bitch."

"You're welcome. Come in." She shrugged, and walked into the house.

I stood and slowly stepped in, walking up to the couch where Davila sat, cuddling Tamil.

I hummed, and gently placed a hand on her hip. "Are you alright, love?"

She nodded slowly, eyes still closed.

I hummed again. "And..."

Alene unceremoniously plopped a very new newborn wrapped in a red cloth in my arms. His skin was a dark tan, and ruddy with angry blush, but he was otherwise the same as I imagined. Pudgy, a little lumpy, but still adorable.

I grinned and laid him on Davila's chest, cuddling the three of them, but keeping my eyes on him.

"What color will his hair be, you think?" I asked softly, blinking at the gently fussing baby.

Tamil rocked him slowly with a single hand, which satisfied him for now, and grinned. "I'd say black. You have black hair, she has brown... so dark hair. And your skin is darker than hers, so he'll likely get a little paler as he grows."

I grinned. "He's beautiful. Pudgy, but beautiful."

Davila giggled while Tamil faked offense. "What's wrong with a little pudge?!?"

I laughed and patted her head. "You're adorable to, don't worry."

Alene sat on me, then tickled the baby, distracting him as she injected a large shot full of nutrients into a vein in his hip.

He didn't even feel it, but he immediately got sleepier, and blinked lazily at us.

I grinned and thanked her, then carried the three of them carefully to the new Elf Tree. Davila chuckled at the sight of the massive silver tree, but I just carried her into the branches, where a room had been made.

The bed fit us all, and I laid down, chuckling again when Davila wiggled, getting comfortable with the baby on her chest.

---

I kept my gaze upon the newest member of the Fell until the sun came up, and Davila glanced at me. "Tell me you didn't-"

"Shush, I can't hear his breath!" I hissed, and stared at him again, worried he'd have a heart palpitation or anything father said I did when I was born.

She understood after a few moments, having heard the stories, and sighed. "We'll be fine. Don't worry. Worry is bad for you. Makes you paranoid."

I grunted and pet his bald head carefully. "I know... but I still worry. He's so... defenseless. What'll his name be, do you think?"

She hummed. "We'll have to see, won't we?"

Tamil blinked sleep from her eyes. "You aren't naming him?"

"What? Why would we do that?" I asked, confused.

"The Clan names new children. Such as Dimitri the Dwarf, or Davila the Red." Davila explained.

Tamil raised a slim eyebrow. "The Red? How'd you get that name?"

"I like to bathe in the blood of Fire-Giants. Wonderful for the skin, see?" She let Tamil pet her soft, yet durable skin.

Tamil blinked slowly. "Okay. Well, then... so they'll name him? When?"

"Later today, or maybe in a few hours. The mother is given time to rest and heal before we have to present the child to the Elders of the Fell." I cracked my back slowly, and groaned in relief.

"Not the Council?"

"Nope." I stood and pulled on a pair of pants, then strapped my weapons to my back and waist.

Davila nodded and handed the baby carefully to Tamil, then stood slowly, her legs wobbling a bit, before centering herself, and standing tall, and placing her bow on her back, and axe on her belt.

Tamil stood and bounced the small baby in her arms, cooing a soft set of syllables at him to calm him down.

We walked out of the tree, headed for Petrie's house, and the door opened just as we got there, stepping through the crowd of Clan.

Maci gazed at us, then smiled at the baby. "He's a good size, isn't he?" She whispered, tickling his feet. "Good... bigger than you were, Dimitri, that's for sure." She nodded, her tone devoid of any malice.

She gently extricated the baby from Tamil's arms, and waved us into the building.

I grinned when I saw Petrie, and the eight other old Giants who lived in the village. Ymitros, despite his apparent youth, (caused by his multiple Rune-Stones,) was actually the eldest of all of us, maybe even put together.

Maci sat in the middle and showed them the infant, examining him for any defects, and finding him healthy, but hungry. She gave him to Davila to feed while we deliberated.

"So. Your first child finally enters the world, Dimitri! And I thought you would remain childless forever..." Petrie hummed.

I grinned. "Nah. Just waiting for a bit of excitement. He's bigger than I was, eh? Giant-Sized."

He nodded. "Aye, I'd agree... Maci? You're sure he's healthy? Sturdy?"

She nodded. "Yes. He's well-built." She said simply.

The Elders nodded and spoke amongst each other softly.

I settled in to wait, and silenced Tamil when she went to ask a question. The baby finished eating, and Davila burped him expertly, then held him to her chest as he grumbled, letting loose a tired yawn.

I grinned and played with one of his feet as the Elders came to a conclusion.

"The Elders of the Fell have decided on a name, Dimitri, Davila. Would you hear it?" Petrie asked.

I nodded. "I would."

"Why not?" Davila grinned.

"He will be known, until he gains another name, as Danilovich the War-Born, first son of Dimitri the Dwarf and Davila the Red, Warriorborn of the Fabled Fell." Maci placed a hand on the baby's head gently, then nodded.

"And what a clan he has been born into..." Petrie chuckled.

I grinned. "A good name. Thank you, Petrie, Maci."

She grunted. "Young warriors... so annoying." She shook her head of white, curly hair, and stomped out, though she was soft-footed when she skirted around Tamil.

I grinned even wider and walked out, and then held my son aloft for the gathered Clan to see. "YOU WITNESS THE NAMING OF DANILOVICH THE WAR-BORN, FIRST SON OF DIMITRI THE DWARF AND DAVILA THE RED, WARRIORBORN OF THE FABLED FELL!!"

In the resulting clamorous roar of welcome, the newly christened Danilovich growled loudly, making us all laugh at his attempted ferocious copy of the sounds around him.

Davila snatched him before I could toss him into the air, playing with him as father had me. I remembered because I'd landed on the anvil a few times, usually landing on my back or stomach. He was a bit clumsy when it came to small things.

I grinned and kissed Tamil's cheek. "See? Wonderful! Nothing to worry about!"

She smiled. "Danilovich?"

"Mm. A good name." Father peered at the baby over Davila's shoulder. "Fitting. The Obsidian eyes with gold flecks match the original Danil's eyes."

"Who?" Tamil asked.

"Father's Father, the Chief before Petrie. His name is Danilovich the Fen, he serves the Warriorborn Council as its Speaker." I grinned, remembering the stories.

"So this is the halfbreed who bears my blood... and my name?" A deep, crackling voice spoke next to us.

"Speak of Demons..." Father chuckled.

Davila shrieked at his sudden appearance, and I grunted in grudging admiration at the sight of his helmet, which was carved from the skull of a Minotaur, plated in bronze, (Giant forged,) just like the rest of his armor was made from the bones of his enemies.

Davila, however, was unaffected, and grinned. "Aye, that he is. Adorable, no?" She held the baby out to him.

He hummed and looked down at the baby, who giggled softly and grabbed his horns, then roared softly in his face, challenging him openly.

The Giant Elder froze, then grinned savagely, picking up the baby in both hands. "Interesting... and his name is War-Born, hmm? He deserves his blood, that much I agree on... he will live with me in the City." He said simply, gazing at Davila. "And you are welcome in my hall as well, youngling-, no, Davila the Red." He nodded.

I chuckled. "Well, he'll have the best of the best role models." I nodded seriously.

Tamil clenched her eyebrows. "Wait, what's up with your title? What's a Fen?"

I stared at her blankly for a moment. "You don't have Bone Fen's in your realm?"

She shook her head.

"Oh... that explains a lot about your people, and their lack of military readiness... well, a Bone Fen is a... well..." I scratched my head.

"It's a monster, unlike any other. Collects the bones of the dead, and uses it as armor and weapons... changes its own anatomy. Very hard to Kill." Father nodded.

I cut my eyes at the Elder's armor, and her confusion cleared when she saw his chest-plate, made from the ribcage of another giant, slathered with bronze.

"I see. Okay. So, you're an Elder in the Warriorborn Council? What's that entail?" She asked him.

He gazed at her slowly. "Why is an Elf speaking to me?"

"Because she's pregnant with my child, and free to speak to whomever she pleases." I raised an eyebrow.

He hummed. "I see... then I will not be hostile towards her, as she bears my blood inside her belly... my duties are simply to speak for the Council, and strategize when War begins." He set the baby on his hip with deceptive ease, and then rubbed circles on his back when he grumbled.

"Alright... and what's with the Bone-Stealing? Is it supposed to scare people?" She asked.

"Yes." He smiled, the flecks of gold in his black eyes glinting brighter for a second.

I hummed and picked up the child, setting him in Father's arms. "Carry him. We are going to get something to drink, and talk about living arrangements."

Elder Danil took off his helmet, revealing an aging, but still strong face. Then he attached the helmet to his hip, and grinned, slinging an arm over Father's shoulders. "SON! You haven't visited me in a whole decade!!!" He laughed loudly.

Father nodded. "No, I haven't."

Danil hummed. "Is it because I forgot your birthing day?"

"No."

"Your mother's Funeral?" He scratched his chin.

"Bingo." Father nodded.

"Hmmmm... well, I'm here for Dimitri's Son's birth, is that worth anything?" He asked.

"Maybe Something." Father shrugged, then handed the baby to Tamil.

"Good! Oh? What's this tree doing here? The Forest Encroaching?" He hummed and rubbed his beard.

"No. I planted and grew this tree for Tamil and her Kind." I shrugged.

Tamil hummed. "Where is your weapon?" She asked suddenly.

Danil grinned down at her. "I don't use one, unless I steal it from an enemy corpse."

"You can cut the annoying act now, act normal." She waved a hand at him easily, and opened the doors, beckoning us inside.

He frowned. "Hmph."

We settled in a large space, which she'd had grown large couches in a few moments, and she handed Danil Jr. to Davila. "So, wait... how much blood-family do you have, Dimitri? Father, Grandfather... anyone else?"

"Danil's mother, but she's... well... Unwell." I shrugged.

"Lost her fucking marbles, more like." Father grumbled.

Danil Sr. glared at him. "Watch it, boy... but yes, she's lost her mind. Senile, I think is the term. We put her in the Great Forest to Die, but that'll take a few more years. She's an Elder of the Fell for a reason." He shrugged.

Tamil looked horrified. "You just sent her to die? What about helping her?"

I glanced at her. "Help? How? She's insane, and she hacks up anything that comes close to her."

Danil Sr. nodded. "She's completely gone. Not, 'oh, where did I put my axe this morning, oh silly me...' no, it's 'ENEMIES!!! KILL KILL KILL!!! AHAHAHAHA!!!' So... yeah. Trust me when I say it's better for everyone involved that she die a warriors death in the forest." He leaned back. "And this is rather comfortable, for being made of roots." He gestured at the couch.

She blinked. "Ah... so not senile, Psychotic. Got it. Well, what about you, Davila?" She asked.

Davila hummed. "Some cousins... an aunt... all within the Fell, except one, Sam the Fool. He's my uncle, amongst the Free Folk. No siblings, and my parents, three aunts, and my second uncle, all died in the War of Two Clans, 4 years ago."

Tamil nodded. "Ah... I'm sorry."

"Hmm? Why? It was a good death. They tore apart those Treacherous Roark's and Taffin's like paper men, and died in a blaze of Flaming Tar, tearing apart enemies even as they burned." Davila grinned proudly.

"Oh... right, you celebrate deaths in combat. Alright, well... my mother died when I was born, and I don't speak to my father. I have one cousin, but he lives in the Nurigion Forest, so I haven't seen him in 14 years. He might have children, but if he has, I wasn't informed." She shrugged.

"Hmm... I'd forgotten you had a father. Why do you not speak to him?" I asked.