Just another random story I forgot to post.
Dwarf: Hun, I'm gonna go to the crafting table. You got everything?
Elf: Yep, I made a poem this morning that should give you the right inspiration!
Dwarf: And did you include pauses? I don't want a repeat of last time...
Elf: <nods> I checked 5 times cause I love you and all, but I can NOT carry you up the stairs again...
Dwarf: And the snacks?
Elf: By the heavens! Thank you for reminding me! <runs into kitchen> But did you get the water?
Dwarf: Mhmm, I put it down there last night.
Elf, coming back into the room with a small basket with various snacks both like: Alright, let's go!
And so the two went down the stairs into the basement. There, 2 chairs that were plush with insanely good lumbar support and cup/snack holders sat, one next to a table and another to the side of work space. The chair next to the table was decorated in embroidered leaves and other nature related items, with something that looked like and elegant musicbook holder, while the one in front of the table had rocks and gems. The table was littered with small bits of metal, wood, and gems, most of the clutter in palm-sized bins and was somewhat contained, no matter how random. Tools made out of different materials and various sizes hung on hooks protruding out of the wall. But there, in the center of the table, sat schematics for a small mechanical robin that would be encrusted with diamonds, rubies, topazes, and other precious gems.
It took a second for the two to get settled in the rhythm that they had found through ages of trial and error. The elf sat in the nature chair and gently set some papers down on the holder, passing the dwarf a snack once they were satisfied. The dwarf sat down on the rock chair, gratefully taking the food. As the last bits of food disappeared, the dwarf passed an intricate metal water bottle to the elf, who took a small drink. The dwarf then set some tools and materials out, while the elf finished securing the cap of the bottle and picked up the first page. Once they were both ready, the two looked at each other and, with a nod from each, they started working, the dwarf on the little robin and the elf reading the poem.
Later, almost 10 hours later, the snacks would be gone, water bottles empty, and both companions bone-tired. Then, and only then, when throats burned hoarse and hands cramped stiff, they would carefully trudge up the stairs and collapse on just about any soft mattress they could find. But maybe, just maybe, they would stay down in the basement, simply leaning back their chairs, which were reclining thanks to the dwarf, and sleep. Any of their friends, who would occasionally check on them, might walk in and see the two holding hands, one rough and calloused and the other smooth and delicate.