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Peoples stopped and stared as Captain Carrot was walking down Cable street with a dwarf on his side. This in on itself wouldn’t have been such a surprise, what was head turning was the attire worn by said dwarf. Every dwarf wore armor, even the most liberal ones had at least some ceremonial chainmail and the more traditional ones walked around in full plate.
This dwarf was in a whole other level, he had such impressive amount of metal on his body, that one could have used him as an anchor for a navy vessel. And what armor, it was polished and gilded with gold, the absolute finest workmanship one could buy. Based on its archaic design it was probably passed down from generations.
Captain Carrot himself wore his best uniform, with all the bashes and kinks hammered out, polished to such a degree that when the sun hit him right he briefly transformed into a flash of light, dazzling any nearby passer-by. His hair was also combed, and he wore his sword on his side.
One could have assumed that he was doing his duty escorting some foreign dignitary, probably some general of the Low King, and showing him around the city.
The truth in fact, was, that after a long time apart his father has visited him.
"And this is Gimmlet's Hole Food delicatessen, it is the most famous dwarf restaurant in the city. " Said Carrot nodding towards a building nearby. Above the door a pretty good wooden sculpture of a grilled rat rolled perpetually above an imaginary fireplace.
"Yes, very good. " Said the older Ironfoundersson a bit strained.
Carrot has showed him most of the city, including the bread Museum which was quiet illuminating.
Amongst the common battle breads, it contained pastry products that, and he was quite sure, no living dwarf ever heard about. Aside from Carrot of course. He heard about everything in the city. He really got used to the city. It was clear he belonged here, and he loved talked about it. And that was one of the reasons the old Ironfoundersson just let him talk. Another reason was the fact that after all this time, he just didn’t really know what to say. Or what to ask for that matter.
Finally, he gathered himself and forces himself to at least try some conversation.
"So, erm, this Commander Vimes, I always imagined him shorter when you wrote about him." Tried the King fidgeting with the handle of his axe on his belt.
"Oh, a common mistake." Nodded Carrot "Most dwarf thinks so, it comes from him being quiet heroic about that stuff back in Überwald."
His father nodded as an answer.
When he read about the news, he could barely believe that it was the same drunkard his son wrote to him about back in the day. But his son would never lie, and when he met the man, he could see the truth of it. He was like a ndzoh-kar. A seemingly worthless lump of rock, hiding valuable ore inside. And by the look in his eye, that ore was probably a mix of very hard iron, and copper.
The older Ironfoundersson walked in silence for a while before he tried again.
"So, this Angua…"
"A Werewolf, yes. "
"I meant to say speaks really good dwarfish. And doesn’t have a beard." Said the dwarf as they rounded a corner.
Carrot considered this.
"Human females generally less hairy than dwarfs. On the other hand, there is the matter of the full moon…It sorts of evens out." Concluded the Watchman as he smiled at a passer-by. "Have a good day Mr. Nikkit, please have an uneventful day. " The man who got singled out like this, an unlicensed petty pickpocket, decided then and there that it would indeed good idea for this day to be uneventful, and promptly pulled his hands out from a merchant' trousers.
"Are you two, doing fine?" Asked the dwarf, aware that he was doing the conversational equivalent of wading into swamp water next to a very suspiciously alligator shaped log.
"Yes, we have an understanding." Smiled Carrot a bit." But I don’t think well borrow mother's ceremonial chainmail even if it comes to that. It would need too much of an alteration. I hope it's not a problem."
His adoptive father shook his head.
So, marriage was off the table for now. He wasn’t sure when humans usually did it, but before forty was quite scandalous in dwarf society so he hoped it was after that.
"Speaking of which, your mom would have come too, but one of the shafts have buckled in. Nobody was in it, but I needed somebody to keep things orderly and she was always better at these things."
Carrot stopped for a second before looking at his adoptive father with utter amazement.
"A feminine pronoun?" The dwarf huffed a bit at this, clearly embarrassed.
"Well even an old pickaxe like me should move with the times. We even get the newspaper in the mine now. With a month or two delay, but we always read it. And you know, reading your letters too…I just thought I could at least do this. And it's not like she started to dress any differently than before. She is just as set in her ways as I am." Explained the older Ironfoundersson saying more things in once than he did all day before. He felt his cheek becoming red under his beard from embarrassment.
"Thank you, dad." Said Carrot warmly, and for a moment his voice sounded the same as the small red-haired toddler who asked and received his second helping of stuffed rat all those years ago.
"Don’t mention it son. " The old Ironfoundersson's voice broke a little. It sounder brittle even to him but, no matter how hard he tried to steel it, it was a fools errand. The words bubbled up on their own. "We are very proud of you, son. We really are, you are not a miner, but you made your way in the world, and we love you. " Not it was the old dwarfs turn stop for a second. He had to rummage around his armor to find a very fine chainmail handkerchief.
"Dad…Thank you for being there for me, even though I'm different." Carrot stepped closer and awkwardly leaned down.
There was a sound of metal clanking as two armored dwarf, one big and young, and one small and old, hugged each other. The older Ironfoundersson patted his adoptive sons' shoulder now that it was in reachable height and smiled at him from under his bushy beard. The two of them continued on their way, the unspoken tension between them finally broken, just like any ordinary father and son.