Chapter 186 - We Adjust

Sonder and Vell found themselves sitting on a low stone bench outside the inn, the hum of life in the dwarven mines filling the cavernous halls around them—though quieter than on most days.

There was nothing to do: no political meetings, no looming threats to address, and no urgent magic to perform.

The dwarves were busy casting their votes for the next Dwarf Lord, leaving Vell and Lunt Senior in a rare state of idleness.

Sonder tilted her head back, staring at the uneven rock ceiling far above. The faint glitter of embedded crystals caught the lantern light, scattering specks of gold and silver into the otherwise dim space.

"Doing nothing feels kind of weird," Sonder said. "After everything that happened yesterday, just... sitting here feels wrong."

Vell chuckled, the sound echoing softly in the cavern. "You'll learn to appreciate these moments, Blackbird. Chaos always comes back around. Enjoy the quiet while it lasts."

Sonder frowned, still fidgeting as her thoughts drifted to the votes. She knew they were being cast today. "But aren't you worried about the results? About who's going to win?"

"Not particularly," Vell said. "Lunt Senior has done everything he can. The votes are out of his hands now. Worrying won't change the outcome."

Sonder watched him for a moment, her brow furrowing. "Are you really not worried at all?"

Vell gave her a sideways glance as he pulled a pipe from his robes. "I didn't say that. But I've been through enough of these political games to know patience is its own kind of power. What matters is being ready for whatever happens next."

She sighed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "I don't think I like politics very much."

Vell lit his pipe, taking a few thoughtful puffs before replying. "We don't differ much on that subject."

Sonder looked down at her hands, still faintly streaked with traces of dirt she hadn't managed to scrub off completely. "I guess I could practice my magic," she said after a pause.

"Or," Vell interrupted, standing and stretching his arms over his head, "you could do nothing."

Sonder shot him a stern look. "That's lazy."

"It's not lazy," Vell corrected, grinning. "It's strategic relaxation. Big difference."

Before she could retort, a burst of laughter erupted from a nearby group of dwarves leaving the tavern. Their loud, joyful voices filled the air as they toasted Lunt Senior's name, even though the results weren't in yet.

Sonder smiled faintly. "They really believe in him, don't they?"

"They do," Vell said, his tone quiet but firm. "And he's earned it. Whether he wins or not, he's done right by his people."

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the ebb and flow of life around them.

Eventually, Vell leaned back again, folding his arms behind his head. "So, Sonder, what's the first thing you'll do if Lunt wins?"

Sonder blinked, caught off guard. "Me? I don't know. Nothing would change for me. Why?"

Vell tilted his head, smirking. "Just curious. It's good to have a plan."

"And if he doesn't win?" she asked.

Vell shrugged. "Then we adjust. It's what we do."

For the first time since they'd sat down, Sonder felt the tension in her shoulders ease slightly. Maybe, she thought, Vell was right. Maybe waiting didn't have to feel so unbearable.

She leaned back, mimicking his relaxed posture. "Okay. Strategic relaxation. What's next?"

"Next," Vell said, his grin widening, "we find something else to eat. This mountain is full of food."