Dorin made a single small ingot of metal from his forge kit. It was dark gold, heavier than it looked, and warm to the touch even though it hadn't been near fire.
Dorin said, "It's Ironbottom family stuff."
"We've had it for seven generations where my great-grandmother made it from a falling star, or so the story goes."
"She said it was for something important, something worth the wait... I was going to make you something with it when all this was over."
He gave Bork the ingot. "Instead, make it yours."
Bork wrapped his fingers around the metal and felt how heavy it was. "What should I cook?"
Dorin's answer was simple and awful. "Something to use once."
The suggestion settled over both of them. Bork nodded slowly, showing that he understood everything.
