Another late night.
Slings was sitting at a table, starlight and moonlight cascading down from above. He preferred writing to their light more than a lamp…he found it helped the creative process most times.
His quill gracefully danced along the parchment, line after line of another great adventure, brewed from the deep recesses of his imagination-riddled mind. He knew the children were looking forward to this one. He had promised to have it finished by tomorrow, but the way he was feeling…he wasn’t sure if that promise was going to be kept.
He let off a long, loud yawn.
His quill stopped writing. Placing it down as a warrior would his favorite sword, Slings rubbed his eyes shook his head to chase the fatigue away.
“Looks like you could use some coffee,” a voice called from behind.
Turning, Slings had to blink a few times as the lamplight blinded him momentarily. Finally having his vision adjust, he could see an older goblin standing there, lamp in one hand, pot of coffee in the other.
“Java,” Slings answered with a friendly smirk.
Java made his way to the opposite end of the table and sat down, placing both pot an lamp on the table as well.
“Now, I have an excuse for being up so late, snotling. What causes you to be stay out so late?”
Slings sat there in silence for a moment, blushing at the elder’s words. After a moment, he took the parchment and quill from the table and held them up for Java to see.
“Ah…I see. Up to your writing again, eh?”
Java pulled out of his hip pouch two metal mugs. One was clearly used more than the other and Slings assumed it was Java’s usual cup. The other was slightly worn, obviously from being shared with other goblins. Slings, again, assumed this cup was for a coffee-drinking partner.
The older goblin poured the coffee and slid Slings one. Slings looked at it with a look of consternation.
“What’s the matter? Never had a cup of coffee before?”
Slings looked at his elder, then back at the cup, blushed and shook his head.
“Well that’s a shame. You young goblins don’t know the beauty that lies within a good cup of coffee.”
Java took a sip.
“So this story you’re writing…what’s it about?”
Slings hesitated for a moment, then finally picked up the parchment and read what he had to Java. Java sat there, face not betraying any feelings that he might’ve had through the duration of Slings’ oratory. When it was completed, Java leaned back in his seat and took another sip of his coffee.
“You have a creative mind, I’ll give you that.”
Slings smiled at Java’s kind words.
“However…may I make a suggestion or two?”
Slings’ smile faded. He expected the elder to give him some lecture on how he shouldn’t waste time that he could use to sleep to write foolish stories or how his mind wasn’t where it should be. He braced himself for it.
“I think the hero…er…Laughs at Danger was it? I think he’d do well to have a not so reckless outlook on life. He should enjoy going into battle but he lacks a necessary motivation to do so. No one wants to hear a story about a hero that fights just to fight. All good heroes have a reason for fighting.”
Slings sat there in awed silence. He had never known Java to have any knowledge about such things. He certainly didn’t count on such great advice.
“Ah…you didn’t think I knew about such things. I tell you what, Slings Words, I’ve been around for many seasons and I know a great many things. You snotlings…always thinking you’re the experts on everything…”
Slings looked down, embarrassed at his actions. After a moment, he looked up at the elder, who seemed to still be fuming slightly.
“Would you…help me change it?” Slings asked, holding up the parchment and quill.
Java gazed at him levelly. He slowly reached out and took the quill. With a smirk, he slid his chair next to Slings and pushed Slings cup of coffee to him.
“Drink up, boy. You’ll need it.”
Slings gave his elder a delighted smile and took his first drink of coffee. Both goblins began pouring over the text, changing, rewriting, laughing, bonding.
And the night went on.