text: “You never see dwarven women,” Belton comments as he chops up the celery. The knife in his hand makes quick work of the current stalk and he grabs another after moving the cut pieces into a pile. “I’ve always wondered why. Do you think they are too ugly or too beautiful?” The kitchen is busy with a number of the half-folk scurrying around. When they are the only kind in sight it can be a bit hard to notice their differences from the other races. They don’t quite look like human children but they don’t quite look just like small versions of them either. And they aren’t just slim dwarves or tall, better groomed gnomes. It can be hard to pinpoint. Especially when they are in a kitchen designed to fit them. Some are checking the various pots of bubbling liquids which emit tantalizing aromas. Eddies of steam whirl behind others as they rush past on their way to check meat cooking over the fires or go take out something from an oven. It is the one peeling potatoes nearby that answers the celery chopper. “What if you have seen them, you just didn’t know?” Using a slightly curved blade the half-folk angles the peels into a bucket placed there to catch them. Upon finishing a potato he tosses it into a nearby basket with some other finished ones. “What do you mean, Ulrin?” “I think you have seen female dwarves, you just haven’t noticed. It’s all in the eyebrows I tell you. That’s how you can tell.” Ulrin nods sagely as he grabs another spud to start on. “That’s crazy. You’re saying they have the same build, including the beards, and the only difference is their \*eyebrows\*?” Belton starts on chopping some carrots after pushing the pile of chopped celery into a large wooden bowl. He harrumphs. “I still say they hide them away in their home caves. No one is allowed outside the visitor halls after all. The only question I have is if it is because they are too beautiful or too hideous to be seen.” A female of the folk carrying a tray of bread loaves pauses by the pair and leans in to add in her two coppers worth. “I heard each clan only has one Matron. She is massive and births everyone in the clan.” Ulrin utters a curse as the insanity of this theory causes him to slip and cut his thumb. He glares at the girl but it is Belton who says in a condescending manner, “You are saying dwarves are like bees or ants, with a queen, Isajen?” Isajen straightens up and looks down her nose at them. “I’m just telling you what I’ve heard.” She takes a step away, pauses and adds, “Makes more sense than \*eyebrows\*,” before heading on her way. Ulrin finishes patching up his thumb and returns to spud duty while Belton has moved onto radishes. One of the women, this one with fiery hair pulled back into a tail, stops by to start sorting the potatoes. Some are taken out and put into a pile for Belton to chop while the others are put in a basket to be taken away. “What do you know about Dwarven women, Diaphina?” Belton asks. She pauses a moment in her sorting to give Belton a side-eye. “I never really thought much about them I suppose.” “Have you ever seen them out in the common room?” pipes up Ulrin as he puts a potato in Diaphina’s basket. She glances at it and moves it to the pile nearby Belton as she answers.” Well of course I’ve... hmm. Actually, now that you mention it I don’t think I’ve ever seen one out there.” “Ha!” exclaims Belton. “That’s because they don’t let them leave their home caves I tell you. Do you think it is because they are too pretty or too gruesome?” Ulrin butts in before Diaphina can answer. “Sure you’ve seen them, they just look almost the same as the dwarven men I tell you.” Diaphina takes a moment to tuck a stray curl of hair back and looks between the two of them. “So this is your discussion of the night, eh? I guess it is better than some things you talk about.” Ulrin blushes at this but Belton just rolls his eyes. “I think Maester Goodbrook has been to one of their mountain homes if you want to ask them about it. Went to learn some of their dishes and teach them some of ours.” Ulrin puts his hands up, one holding a spud, the other his peeling knife. “I wouldn’t want to bother the Maester...” he says but Belton has a pondering look on his face. “I wouldn’t bother him during preparation time of course... but maybe later...” he trails off and moves the finished radishes into their own bowl and brings the pile of potatoes over to start on. Isajen returns without any tray this time and instructs Ulrin that he is needed to help clean up the common room before the day starts. “And don’t forget to take the peels out to the compost.” Ulrin grimaces and mutters that he only forgot that once as he gathers up the bucket and heads out for his next duty. Isajen watches him leave and comments to Belton, “I didn’t really mean they were like queen bees or anything. Just like they are sacred and sheltered because they are the only ones that can reproduce. It isn’t like dwarves are a overly flourishing race. There aren’t that many of them but they do live long. It could be there’s only one, or I guess a few, that give birth and are protected which is why no one gets to meet them.” Belton hmms softly as he cutes up the potatoes into chunks. “I suppose that could be true. It sure seems more plausible than they are out here and look the same as every other dwarf except for their eyebrows.” They share a chuckle and return to their work.