Powders

He couldn’t hear any other voice besides hers and the teachers’. That was different, most were introduced to the teacher by an elder. Maybe she is older? They weren’t long, as the instructor knew not to leave his gnomish pupils squirming on their stools without oversight for long. When they came around the corner finally the attention of the students was that of a litter of fresh pups who had just spotted a butterfly. She stood straight but she also didn’t match anyone's gaze either as the teacher introduced her in the common language.
“Alright, this is Antonina. She will be joining us for the language and arcane lessons to round out her education she has already received. She will also serve as my assistant with scores.”
“Where was that?” Roondar asked before much more could be given. He didn’t look pleased.
“She comes to us as one of the refugees from the Elven and Human lands of Cormyr.” The instructor twisted back toward her politely asking, “And you do go by Antonina or Nina then?”
“The humans called me as Nina then sir.” She nodded politely as a human would as she spoke and the fountain of hair that washed back behind her swayed some. Her accent certainly wasn’t that of the Zhentarim merchants. She must have seventy summers at least, but that would explain her being here if she didn’t have a regular education. Her clothing was foriegn for certain.
The instructor nodded toward his own small writing desk against the wall and she nodded and pulled a small bag from her back and laid it over the chair back and turned the chair halfway toward the class and instructor. Ethyl could see several of the class seemed uncomfortable with this and physically twisted with unease as the last of the leaves on the fall trees. From where he sat he could just see under the flap of the bag and could make out a couple books. She was going to be studious then he assumed.
…
Several ten day passed and Nina had settled right in. She picked up Gnim faster than most of the class, only perhaps Roondar, Daphibys, and Ethyl able to best her still. She was picking it up quickly though and he was sure she would match them soon. She did indeed assist the instructor with tasks and always took the small desk or folded neatly on the steps of the small dias taking notes on the dias floor as she listened to the instructor or speakers. She never stayed to interact with the students much. She didn’t stay with them among the family burrows or communal lodge. Instead she had her own small room, paid for also by her benefactor he discovered, among those small cottage fronts on the northwest rise in the village.
Ethyl was going his rounds through the groves for gallnuts and making his way back toward the north pond for eggs when he noticed her at her window, surely at her table working on something. She caught his eye as she watched him slow from his jog toward the pond her cottage looked over. He smiled politely, unsure how well she could see from the distance. She just looked back down though, continuing whatever task it was she worked on. She didn’t seem to come out besides for lessons or duty. Oh that would bother him, to stay all penned up as one of the elders on their own? He shook the unpleasant thought off. She didn’t seem to mind. Maybe because she had spent too much time among the humans and didn’t know how to socialize with Gnomes well he figured.
…
“Ethyl right?” Ninas' voice came, as one dealing with a traveler, polite and welcoming but business like
. He was sure she knew his name but he nodded the same. “You make your own ink I hear. Do you have any abundance or do you use it all up? If not, perhaps I would offer a trade or a few coin?”
He nodded, “sure. I have more. I would be happy to trade for some of the fine parchments I have seen you make.” Her smile warmed her face and she pulled out a roll of parchments from her bag, obviously anticipating this as a possible request, and held the bundle out for him.
“Oh, thank you!” He was shocked at how thick the bundle of parchments was and how fine their texture was. “Uh...I apologize, I didn’t bring more with me but I can offer you my own well now if you would like and bring you more on the sun rise?”
She didn’t respond but her smile radiated further out and she flicked her dark chocolate eyes toward him, meeting his gaze again after she corked the well and placed it in one of the front pockets of her bag. “Another request then?”
He felt obligated now, only being able to give her a half full inkwell and in her debt now. “Yeah, sure, what else can I help with?”
She gestured at the small box on his desk. “Your colored charcoals?”
“You are an artist then?” He was impressed and a touch intimidated by the request. His stomach lurched back as she sat down and pulled up closer than he would have liked.
“Not particularly, though I would like to work at it more and have a couple of canvases hung that I find pleasing though they aren’t much.” She seemed hesitant to crack the subject open with him but she nodded shoring up her decision. “Your grandfather mentioned he thought you might be able to assist me with making something similar for myself.”
“Sure, I can make you some if you are thinking of taking up drawing. They aren’t really good for canva” she touched his hand to stop him.
“No no I don’t want them for art. I mean…The ladies where I was raised would use them…” and she waved a hand before her face as if pulling a cover off. “You know, to be found more pleasing. I would like some like my Mae, who raised me, used.
She would use pins to pull her hair up tight and then use powders, like our folk do, on her cheeks but then also a dry ink for her features and a thin balm on her lips.”
He nodded as he tried to picture the powders and inks he had seen humans use on her or any other gnome. The imagine escaped him. “uh…I’m sure grandfather could do something like that or would know better than me.”
Her hand crept further up and pressed the top of his with a bit more pressure. “He said you would have an easier time finding the right items and maybe more imagination for the task than he had energy for.”
“I guess. Uhm…yes I can see what I can do. Maybe in a few days then?”
She pulled her hand back and gave a solid nod as she grabbed two platinum coins from her bag and placed them before him. “Ni- apricate a- Ethyl.” she said in her budding Gnim accent, before she turned and made for the common room for supper.
“yes, drin- dronn.” he acknowledged, as his gaze was hooked by the sight of the odd coins. He hadn’t seen these before. He lifted them and felt their weight. These were not like the common merchant coin of the Sword Coast, but rather the larger coins of Cormyr with their cupped edge and pressed face. He picked one up, studying it. Surely they didn’t use a hammer like they did for the merchant guild coins? They were so uniform as he pushed them next to each other. “These for some powders?” he questions quietly to himself.
…
Ethyl lifted the top of his chest and carefully sorted through his collection of leather rolls and boxes. He eased one out, a small delicate wooden one undid the tiny latch to inspect the chambers. Six spaces…each big enough for a charcoal shading brush. That may well do, he thought. He pluncked up a second one, round with a press on top that had a good fitment and held powdered egg shell he had been collecting. He would have to find a new container for that. He grabbed leather wrapped portions of beeswax and gum powder and stuffed them along with the containers in a small bag.
“What else?” he asked the fall breeze that carried in the door he had left ajar. He pressed his eyes and tried to picture her face. Something for her cheeks of course but then for her eyes? Grandfather spoke of the thick molasses colored face paints those from the southern peninsula wore on their eyes and lips. He frowned at the image. How odd on a gnome. She already didn’t fit in exactly. An unusual request to single herself out further. He could almost picture it if just used sparingly. The image played lightly across her features in his mind and he opened his eyes again, glancing at the soft petals and violet blossoms of the climbing vine that reached and draped from its small pot on the window sill. “Yes, that may work. I wonder if she has a polished mirror?” he muttered as he shut the door as he left.