Elendor
Celebrations dampened
As the feast in celebration of the Battle of the Five Armies gets under way in Dale, the Elves of Mirkwood have a song in store that more than perturbs a few.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Great Hall, Dale
Game Date: Day 16 of January 3046
Description: ** Real time is: Mon Jan 26 17:19:31 2009, GMT -8 **
Elendor time is: Midday (1200) on Monday, Day 16 of January 3046.
In the Winter sky, Tonight the moon will be waning gibbous.
Great Hall
The high stone hall is brightly lit by torch and candle. The stones of the Great Hall are plastered white, and then painted with the blue of King Brand's crest. Painted shields alternate with tapestries along the walls. The high rafters are worked with Northman carvings, intricate and animalistic.
Long tables line the room, where the King's Men and the nobility feast with Brand. At the far end of the room, a high table stands at right angles to the others. The king's high seat rises at center. Gifts of dwarves, many fine weapons hang on the wall behind Brand's seat.
Contents:
Lasbelin
Daemuin
Thari
Obvious exits:
Stairs leads to High Rooms.
Out leads to Courtyard.
[Thari(#31038)]
A bit late, but wintertime is always a good time for a celebration. Elves, the men of Dale, and the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain are all gathered in King Brand's great hall. There's a great surplus of noise, excited chatter, but for the most part the races seem to have segregated themselves.
Thari is seated in the middle of a long table, all dressed in red and gold and silver, talking to the next dwarf. Just now, servants are bringing platters of the meat.
[Dain] At the head of the Great Hall, seated beside Dale's King Brand, is an elder dwarf with a long beard of utter white, reaching nearly to the floor before him. He is garbed richly in fine clothes and wears a set of chainmail that is as much a show of wealth as it is armour, and about his person shine many gems and rings.
Though seated at the moment, the dark eyes of Dain son of Nain, King Under the Mountain, sweep the tables before him frequently, sharp as he takes in the odd assortment of guests to the celebration. For now he speaks quietly with those seated near him, waiting for the feast to get under way.
[Daemuin(#20106)] At one of the tables nearest the dwarves, an elven lady with faintly shimmering silver hair lifts a goblet of wine in a toast to the golden-haired firstborn seated beside her. Daemuin, the silver haired harpist, sips her wine and looks over at the group of dwarves several times, her bright eyes seeming curious, perhaps.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
The elf maiden beside Daemuin gives a soft smile to her friend, nodding towards her. Lasbelin then turns blue-gray eyes on those present elsewhere, taking in the faces of dwarves and men alike. She shifts a touch where she sits, perhaps to get a better look.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari happens to catch one of Daemuin's curious glances. Some of the dwarves seem friendly with the elves, but this one's grey eyes are sharp, wary perhaps. Thari gives a cautious nod across the tables and lifts a tankard.
Geirvarr has arrived.
Geirvarr appears out of a gaping maw, opening in a vast yawn far above the earth.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin purses her lips, startled at having been caught studying the dwarves. But as her goblet is lifted in Thari's direction, she offers a quick smile over the rim before she drinks again .
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari drinks along with Daemuin, as if the two were toasting each other or something like that, but then the dwarf leans toward the one beside (a taller dwarf with a scraggly beard) and murmurs something.
[Dain] The food begins to arrive in full and soon dishes of steaming meat and vegetables litter the tables, as do cakes and soups and pitchers of beer or wine. At the high table, King Dain speaks quietly at length with King Brand, sometimes nodding seriously, sometimes chuckling at a low rumble. Several times he seems to say something and indicate those others assembled in the hall with a wave of his hand.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
Taking a moment to acquire a bit of wine, Lasbelin brings her nose to just above the liquid first. She tilts her head a small angle at the smell, before she ventures a sip. She blinks a few times in quick successful, but swallows the sip without further reaction. A glance towards Daemuin, and she smiles. "Good wine," she manages.
Mobeorn passes through the great doors, coming into the hall.
Mobeorn has arrived.
[<#20106>] Daemuin sets her wine down and leans in closer to Lasbelin, to whisper something to the golden-haired elf. "Do you ... they ... like our ...? ... will ... be ... ... ... ... with ... arrows ... ... ...?" Her eyes sweep the room again, taking in all the unfamiliar faces. She looks nervously back at her fellow musician.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari and the dwarves near are eating, thanking their servers. Further down the table, one blue-bearded dwarf is ALREADY too deep in his cups and is starting to snore. His neighbor is prodding him in embarrassment, casting glances up at the two Kings.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
Lasbelin ventures another sip of the strange wine, before she laughs softly. "I lean towards the fate of arrows," she says quietly, winking to Daemuin. It might be hard to tell if she really is serious or not. Her eyes move towards the dwarf Daemuin exchanged the long distance toast with, before she glances back toward Daemuin. "There is not time like now, I believe. Shall we?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari glances back at the elves and quirks a smile at Lasbelin, rearranging the pattern of small scars on rosy cheeks. Brows go down then and again murmurs for the taller dwarf.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin leaps to her feet, the petite creature with a honeyed voice that carries throughout the hall. "King Thranduil's bards have prepared a gift of song, from the King of the Greenwood himself, to be enjoyed while you feast!" A faint blush comes to her cheeks as she picks up her harp and long fingers begin to pluck the strings.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] There are the men of Beorning here, keeping to themselves at the feast and politely--if Beornings are capable of such courtly manners--eating and drinking. For the men of the Anduin, they are noticeably subdued.
And then there is Mobeorn, a tall and oversized man of Beorning, who now has to stoop to get into the doorway--and promptly stares at the diminuitive elven woman.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari looks up with surprise at Daemuin and Lasbelin. The fork is laid down, and an expression of pleasant anticipation takes over. The healer takes another pull from the tankard and leans back to listen.
[Dain] The elder King Dain looks up from the high table, silver brows drawing together when one of the elves rises and announces a song. He pushes away his empty plate and pulls a mug of ale towards him instead, crossing one arm across his chest and absently pulling at his white beard with the other. An interested look crosses his face as he watches Daemuin.
Jobrand passes through the great doors, coming into the hall.
Jobrand has arrived.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
"Let us hope they are all very drowned in spirits," Lasbelin notes to the harpist. She stands carefully, offering a warm smile in return to the one from the unknown dwarf. As the notes rise, her gaze moves all those present, before she takes a slow breath. Her voice then begins to weave with the harp:
In the Greenwood Great
The Firstborn fair
Dwell beneath the trees
With the river near
The Taurduin blue
With fish as green as leaves..."
[Mobeorn(#22365)] Quietly...which, for a man of Mobeorn's size, means with lots of noise and fuss...Mobeorn slips toward the tables, looking for a seat. Upsetting three chairs in the process and nearly knocking over a server.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's head tilts as fair elven voice fills the hall of the lake-men. A slight brewing smile is ruined by the ruckus of a certain tall man, and Thari spares a frown for Mobeorn from across the room.
[Dain] Dain is attentive and quiet, face passive, lips pressing together slightly as he listens. He takes a drink from his mug.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Mobeorn also catches Daemuin's interest, and though her skilled fingers continue to touch the harp strings, the dainty elf maiden begins to blush at something and presses her lips together to stifle a giggle as chairs are knocked about at the beginning of their song. She lifts her voice up now to pick up where Lasbelin left off,
"But river home
Or Treefolk kin
All kindness was unmatched
When friends had need
they came at once
and they gave all they had."
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
As Daemuin fades at the last of her line, Lasbelin looks across the faces of those present again. If she is at all nervous, she hides it well, taking a deep breath before her voice picks up the next words.
"But the folk of rock
In their damp dark caves
Had hearts as hard as stone
Their beady eyes
And bushy beards
Had been too long alone..."
Eyes waver to in the direction in which the chairs clattered to the floor. Perhaps, by some stroke of luck, the sound might have been made over some of the words.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] Mobeorn, having finally found a bench sturdy enough to hold him, leans back and laughs. Loudly. The sound rings out across the hall, and then the Beorning man looks between the elven singer and the dwarven guests. "This ought to be interesting....mead?" he politely enquires, then looks at his fingernails.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's head waves vaguely in time with the fair song. Suddenly a chair scrapes from another dwarf, and Thari's eyes snap sharp to the singer. The healer stands as well, fury gathering in the gaze like distant stormclouds, but yet the dwarves say nothing.
[Dain] Dain leans forward, dark eyes narrowing and brows drawing hard together. A frown descends over his deeply lined face and he presses the backs of his fingers against his lips, peering hard at Lasbelin. He is silent for the moment, but his gaze flicks over those of his people who have stood in alarm.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin's milk white cheeks are flushed a brilliant red as the song progresses, and she looks perhaps a little guilty, the few times that she dares to lift her eyes from her harp. She sings again,
"Their greed was great
Their desires of us
Demands we would not meet
They brought danger here
With no reward
For the friends
They'd come to greet.."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari stands, hands on the table (not difficult considering dwarf/table height ratio), glancing frequently to King Dain. The healer's round face is turning red, picking out scars in white. "It continues?!" the dwarf shouts right through the song, directly at the singer.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
The golden-haired Lasbelin only pauses for a moment, closing her eyes as she picks up the next verse. Her voice remains steady and clear...except for perhaps a tiny waver here and there. Her eyes open to the room again, and dart here and there, perhaps lingering on the exit.
And if one sought
A lady fair
Of the Naugrim
What would they find?
Just more long beards
And drunken brawls
No lady pure and fine..."
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin looks up at the dwarven healer and gives a very frightened little yelp. "Ai!" The slender silver haired elf squeals, looking into Thari's livid face. Eyes quickly sweeping the room, she decides in a second that behind the very tall, clumsy man might be the safest place to hide. And so Daemuin runs to a place behind Mobeorn's chair, harp still in hand. After recovering for a moment, she peers from up over Mobeorn's shoulder to finish the song, "
"Bardings give
Gold for talk
So now take heed
Else Men and Elf
Reward Dwarfs' greed.."
[Dain] Dain's fingers fall away from his mouth and his lips part, brows now stitched tightly together. Any remnant of his previous good humour is vanished, and his willingness to believe this some sort of joke on the part of the elves seems quickly fading as well. He glances at Thari as the healer shouts indignantly at the woodland folk and his grim expression suggests his own question is much the same.
Both hands go to the edge of the table when Lasbelin picks up the song again and, from the sudden straightening of his back and squaring of his shoulders, the king seems most perturbed by this latest verse. He stands quite abruptly, and though he is one of the shorter members of the high table, he makes an imposing figure. "What insult is this, Lady Elves, to bring such a song to such a gathering?" he barks after Daemuin's latest verse.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari, however, is already moving. The dwarf's strong hand goes to the table, grips blindly at the tankard, and as King Dain begins to speak, hurls it at Lasbelin with a growl. It tumbles end-over-end, spewing golden ale along the way, and is, frankly, poorly aimed.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
With the sudden departure of her companion-in-criminal-music, Lasbelin gives Daemuin quite a shocked look. But with the voices echoing in the hall, her attention turns to them. She is silent for a moment, before she offers a respectful bow to Dain. She looks as if she is about to speak, but then? There is a heavy tankard flying towards her. There is no time to give an answer. The elf quickly leaps to the side, nearly stumbling over her own feet with a small squeal. Without thinking, Lasbelin quickly reaches for the nearest tankard with slender fingers, heaving it towards the small instigator.
[Lasbelin(#25570)] It's a reflex. Really!
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
Truly.
[Dain] "Stay your hands, dwarves!" Dain's bellow carries throughout the hall, his fist thumping down loudly on the table before him. He leans forward and places both hands upon the table.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] But Mobeorn is on a bench, not a chair, and is leaning back against the wall, so there is slight room for the cowardly elf. He twists around, looking behind him. "Oh no you don't!" he grumbles. "I'm not about to hold off an army of dwarves just because you folk are rude hosts."
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin's blue-green eyes flash. "Oh!" She exclaims, her expression turning rather nasty for an elf. "Well. The next song I write is going to be a detailed account of all the shortcomings of -men-." The remark is clearly directed at him, as she then turns on her heel and darts back toward Lasbelin with her head held high, still carefully cradling her harp. Fortunately for her, the goblet-flinging seems to have stopped when she returns to her proper spot at the table.
[Thari(#31038)]
It's been said that elves have better reflexes than dwarves, probably by some dirty elf-lover, but in this case it's true! Thari is clocked in the head by a tankard, knocked backwards, and is picked up by some of the other Khazad.
This makes the dwarves angry, to say the least. One look at Thari and some of them are climbing over the tables, making toward the elves. It is the King's voice that saves them, for the dwarves stop where they stand as Thari traces hand over a black spot on the brow filling with a touch of blood.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] The Beorning men, who prior to this had kept to themselves, are roaring with laughter and applauding now at the evening's "entertainment." Some hoist tankards to the elven women. "Sing it again, lassies!"
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
While she may have retaliated on instinct or a moment of anger, it fades away quickly. A hand covers the lower half of her features as the cup connects with Thari's head, and worry...and guilt...fill Lasbelin's eyes. "I...I did not mean for that to happen, sir!" she calls, sounding genuinely concerned. Never mind the fact, if there are any dward women /here/, she probably could not tell. As the calls from the Beornings rise, her color darkens.
[Dain] "Enough!" Dain shouts when the retaliatory tankard strikes Thari across the brow and knocks the healer backwards. "Dwarves! You will be -seated-! Erebor does not attack those whom it invites under a flag of friendship, even if such grace is not returned. Now sit and be content."
The elder king turns his dark gaze upon Lasbelin and Daemuin now, clearly angry, but composed. For a moment he looks tempted to address the two elves in private, especially with the ruckus that the laughing Beornings are now creating. But he does not, yet at least. "My ladies," he rumbles at them, "this song came, you say, from your lord. What is the meaning of such an insult? This was reckoned a friendly gathering, a feast of friends, and such a song serves only to solidify division."
[Thari(#31038)]
The dwarves move very reluctantly back to their places at their King's word, but do not resist his bidding. Thari, arighted now, covers the spot on the scarred brow and glares at the elves. Slowly the gaze goes to Dain.
Jobrand has disconnected.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin sets her harp on the table and, looking between Lasbelin and the injured Thari, decides that she definitely needs a drink. Her goblet is still on the table, and she takes a long drink from it. She continues to blush at the cheers from the Beorning men, giving a few of them irritated looks over the rim of her cup. She only sets the goblet down in order to answer the dwarf king. "Thranduil is not harboring feelings of friendship and goodwill toward the Naugrim at the moment," Daemuin says as if it weren't obvious. A shrug of her little shoulders. "He asked us to write a song about how your people brought danger into our home," she adds meekly.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] "Go on, lass!" Mobeorn laughs as Daemuin threatens to make songs about men. "We'd enjoy it and at least we wouldn't throw tankards at ya! Waste of a fine ale!" The Beorning men laugh onc emore, their whole table brought to life. A few wolf whistles are sent Lasbelin's way, as well.
[Dain] Dain frowns at Daemuin's explanation and his eyes flick to the area of the hall where most dwarves are assembled. He is silent for a few moments, scowling briefly at the continuing Beornings. "Danger has ever pervaded your home, my lady, and it is the doing of the world, not of the dwarves. These darkening days should serve as proof enough of that. Is the purpose of your people's presence here only to insult the dwarves and feast on the food of those who extend the hand of friendship?"
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
At the whistles from the men, Lasbelin turns, a bit of a storm gathering in her eyes. The fair-haired elf tilts her head, given them a rather challenging half of a smile...if not mildly threatening in its sweetness. A hand is brought to her lips, and she blows a kiss at them. She then turns back, offering a deep bow to both the dwarven King, and one to the injured Thari as well. "I apologize, my Lord, we meant no ill will," she offers, "If we were...able yet to continue...all ears could have been alight to more of the song. In which we would have sang of the...quirks of our kind as well." Though her voice is flawless and steady, one would wonder if she is yet making this all up on the spot. "I will yet owe a favor to the one I...threw the goblet at. It was not my intension to cause harm to any."
[Thari(#31038)]
A tiny little rivulet of blood seeps from between Thari's fingers. The short healer mutters something and pushes away from the table to walk toward the wall, where linens lay. "It was my intention to cause harm to ye!" comes a bit of a shout, quickly silenced.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin turns to look at her friend and partner in crime, surprise by the eloquence and sudden cleverness with which she handles the delicate situation. Still, the petite harpist is inclined to speak the truth, "King Thranduil is not pleased with recent events, and no matter who brought the danger into the Greenwood or why, those are his feelings on the matter. I have sang what my King asked, but I am sorry for some of the consequences." Blue-green eyes look at Thari's forehead again. "And," she adds quietly, "it is my opinion that in such dark times, friendship shouldn't be scorned so." She looks worriedly at the faces of the other elves, perhaps expecting ridicule for her contrary words.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] "A song! More of the song!" the men of Beorning now clamor, knocking empty tankards (and some full ones) on their table to add to the noise. The elf-woman's anger seems to scare them not at all, but then, they have spent the entire evening drinking. Copiously.
[Dain] "Master Dwarf, you will control yourself," Dain barks at Thari, silver brows stitching together. "If we allowed such slights to decide our allies and our enemies, then Erebor would still today be the brood of the worm Smaug and we would stand now upon his desolation." Turning back to Lasbelin and Daemuin, the king lifts his chin and straightens. Ignoring the Beornings still, he says, "And for that reason, you may continue your song, my ladies, convenient as the order of the barbs seems to be." He remains standing.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari turns and, napkin pressed to brow, bows deeply toward the King's table and does not arise again for some time, beard wagging to the floor. When the healer does straighten again, it is silently to move to the table again.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Too much wine even for an elf, and the very tense energy of the room have gotten to Daemuin, and when the Beorning men keep on clamoring for another song, and even the dwarven king has bid them to sing again, the silver haired elf maid picks up her harp and strikes up a very lively tune. The melody is reminiscent of the other song they sang, but this one is much faster and louder. And as she plays, she makes her way through the men and dances, straying very close to them as she gracefully attempts to kick up her heels.
[Dain] Dain takes his seat again, but this time with narrowed eyes and his arms crossed over his white beard. He is utterly silent, but his eyes flick around the assembly. Durin only knows what will follow.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
"Daemuin, my friend, will not you sit with the menfolk? Your presence seems to sooth them," Lasbelin calls, a small smirk flitting across her lips. She inclines her head again to the dwarves, eyes falling briefly to Thari. "If you wish to throw another at me, I will not be disagreeable." She then turns in a half circle, arms spread wide to include all present. "And so, a song," she calls. As Daemuin picks up another melody, she lifts her voice:
"Now Bards tell many tales in kind
Of quirks and shorts and all others tall
As those that here may
Keep close in mind...
"While the dwarf have their beards
The men have their drink
Flirty with all they might see
Though I guarentee
The Naugrim can hold their spirits
Much more!
"And the last, I fear
If us Elvenkind
May be that while here
Our voices are clear
At our dear homes
They are lowly and not fit to be heard."
[Daemuin(#20106)] Laughing as she plays the merry tune, Daemuin is pulled onto a bench with several men, whom she encourages to clap while she plays the harp. The mood in the great hall is once again a little lighter many faces are smiling again, seeming to enjoy the two strange bardesses and their songs.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] Mobeorn, in turn, slips out of the hall, actually managing to do it quietly this time.
Elendor time is: Midday (1200) on Monday, Day 16 of January 3046.
In the Winter sky, Tonight the moon will be waning gibbous.
Great Hall
The high stone hall is brightly lit by torch and candle. The stones of the Great Hall are plastered white, and then painted with the blue of King Brand's crest. Painted shields alternate with tapestries along the walls. The high rafters are worked with Northman carvings, intricate and animalistic.
Long tables line the room, where the King's Men and the nobility feast with Brand. At the far end of the room, a high table stands at right angles to the others. The king's high seat rises at center. Gifts of dwarves, many fine weapons hang on the wall behind Brand's seat.
Contents:
Lasbelin
Daemuin
Thari
Obvious exits:
Stairs leads to High Rooms.
Out leads to Courtyard.
[Thari(#31038)]
A bit late, but wintertime is always a good time for a celebration. Elves, the men of Dale, and the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain are all gathered in King Brand's great hall. There's a great surplus of noise, excited chatter, but for the most part the races seem to have segregated themselves.
Thari is seated in the middle of a long table, all dressed in red and gold and silver, talking to the next dwarf. Just now, servants are bringing platters of the meat.
[Dain] At the head of the Great Hall, seated beside Dale's King Brand, is an elder dwarf with a long beard of utter white, reaching nearly to the floor before him. He is garbed richly in fine clothes and wears a set of chainmail that is as much a show of wealth as it is armour, and about his person shine many gems and rings.
Though seated at the moment, the dark eyes of Dain son of Nain, King Under the Mountain, sweep the tables before him frequently, sharp as he takes in the odd assortment of guests to the celebration. For now he speaks quietly with those seated near him, waiting for the feast to get under way.
[Daemuin(#20106)] At one of the tables nearest the dwarves, an elven lady with faintly shimmering silver hair lifts a goblet of wine in a toast to the golden-haired firstborn seated beside her. Daemuin, the silver haired harpist, sips her wine and looks over at the group of dwarves several times, her bright eyes seeming curious, perhaps.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
The elf maiden beside Daemuin gives a soft smile to her friend, nodding towards her. Lasbelin then turns blue-gray eyes on those present elsewhere, taking in the faces of dwarves and men alike. She shifts a touch where she sits, perhaps to get a better look.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari happens to catch one of Daemuin's curious glances. Some of the dwarves seem friendly with the elves, but this one's grey eyes are sharp, wary perhaps. Thari gives a cautious nod across the tables and lifts a tankard.
Geirvarr has arrived.
Geirvarr appears out of a gaping maw, opening in a vast yawn far above the earth.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin purses her lips, startled at having been caught studying the dwarves. But as her goblet is lifted in Thari's direction, she offers a quick smile over the rim before she drinks again .
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari drinks along with Daemuin, as if the two were toasting each other or something like that, but then the dwarf leans toward the one beside (a taller dwarf with a scraggly beard) and murmurs something.
[Dain] The food begins to arrive in full and soon dishes of steaming meat and vegetables litter the tables, as do cakes and soups and pitchers of beer or wine. At the high table, King Dain speaks quietly at length with King Brand, sometimes nodding seriously, sometimes chuckling at a low rumble. Several times he seems to say something and indicate those others assembled in the hall with a wave of his hand.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
Taking a moment to acquire a bit of wine, Lasbelin brings her nose to just above the liquid first. She tilts her head a small angle at the smell, before she ventures a sip. She blinks a few times in quick successful, but swallows the sip without further reaction. A glance towards Daemuin, and she smiles. "Good wine," she manages.
Mobeorn passes through the great doors, coming into the hall.
Mobeorn has arrived.
[<#20106>] Daemuin sets her wine down and leans in closer to Lasbelin, to whisper something to the golden-haired elf. "Do you ... they ... like our ...? ... will ... be ... ... ... ... with ... arrows ... ... ...?" Her eyes sweep the room again, taking in all the unfamiliar faces. She looks nervously back at her fellow musician.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari and the dwarves near are eating, thanking their servers. Further down the table, one blue-bearded dwarf is ALREADY too deep in his cups and is starting to snore. His neighbor is prodding him in embarrassment, casting glances up at the two Kings.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
Lasbelin ventures another sip of the strange wine, before she laughs softly. "I lean towards the fate of arrows," she says quietly, winking to Daemuin. It might be hard to tell if she really is serious or not. Her eyes move towards the dwarf Daemuin exchanged the long distance toast with, before she glances back toward Daemuin. "There is not time like now, I believe. Shall we?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari glances back at the elves and quirks a smile at Lasbelin, rearranging the pattern of small scars on rosy cheeks. Brows go down then and again murmurs for the taller dwarf.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin leaps to her feet, the petite creature with a honeyed voice that carries throughout the hall. "King Thranduil's bards have prepared a gift of song, from the King of the Greenwood himself, to be enjoyed while you feast!" A faint blush comes to her cheeks as she picks up her harp and long fingers begin to pluck the strings.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] There are the men of Beorning here, keeping to themselves at the feast and politely--if Beornings are capable of such courtly manners--eating and drinking. For the men of the Anduin, they are noticeably subdued.
And then there is Mobeorn, a tall and oversized man of Beorning, who now has to stoop to get into the doorway--and promptly stares at the diminuitive elven woman.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari looks up with surprise at Daemuin and Lasbelin. The fork is laid down, and an expression of pleasant anticipation takes over. The healer takes another pull from the tankard and leans back to listen.
[Dain] The elder King Dain looks up from the high table, silver brows drawing together when one of the elves rises and announces a song. He pushes away his empty plate and pulls a mug of ale towards him instead, crossing one arm across his chest and absently pulling at his white beard with the other. An interested look crosses his face as he watches Daemuin.
Jobrand passes through the great doors, coming into the hall.
Jobrand has arrived.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
"Let us hope they are all very drowned in spirits," Lasbelin notes to the harpist. She stands carefully, offering a warm smile in return to the one from the unknown dwarf. As the notes rise, her gaze moves all those present, before she takes a slow breath. Her voice then begins to weave with the harp:
In the Greenwood Great
The Firstborn fair
Dwell beneath the trees
With the river near
The Taurduin blue
With fish as green as leaves..."
[Mobeorn(#22365)] Quietly...which, for a man of Mobeorn's size, means with lots of noise and fuss...Mobeorn slips toward the tables, looking for a seat. Upsetting three chairs in the process and nearly knocking over a server.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's head tilts as fair elven voice fills the hall of the lake-men. A slight brewing smile is ruined by the ruckus of a certain tall man, and Thari spares a frown for Mobeorn from across the room.
[Dain] Dain is attentive and quiet, face passive, lips pressing together slightly as he listens. He takes a drink from his mug.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Mobeorn also catches Daemuin's interest, and though her skilled fingers continue to touch the harp strings, the dainty elf maiden begins to blush at something and presses her lips together to stifle a giggle as chairs are knocked about at the beginning of their song. She lifts her voice up now to pick up where Lasbelin left off,
"But river home
Or Treefolk kin
All kindness was unmatched
When friends had need
they came at once
and they gave all they had."
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
As Daemuin fades at the last of her line, Lasbelin looks across the faces of those present again. If she is at all nervous, she hides it well, taking a deep breath before her voice picks up the next words.
"But the folk of rock
In their damp dark caves
Had hearts as hard as stone
Their beady eyes
And bushy beards
Had been too long alone..."
Eyes waver to in the direction in which the chairs clattered to the floor. Perhaps, by some stroke of luck, the sound might have been made over some of the words.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] Mobeorn, having finally found a bench sturdy enough to hold him, leans back and laughs. Loudly. The sound rings out across the hall, and then the Beorning man looks between the elven singer and the dwarven guests. "This ought to be interesting....mead?" he politely enquires, then looks at his fingernails.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's head waves vaguely in time with the fair song. Suddenly a chair scrapes from another dwarf, and Thari's eyes snap sharp to the singer. The healer stands as well, fury gathering in the gaze like distant stormclouds, but yet the dwarves say nothing.
[Dain] Dain leans forward, dark eyes narrowing and brows drawing hard together. A frown descends over his deeply lined face and he presses the backs of his fingers against his lips, peering hard at Lasbelin. He is silent for the moment, but his gaze flicks over those of his people who have stood in alarm.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin's milk white cheeks are flushed a brilliant red as the song progresses, and she looks perhaps a little guilty, the few times that she dares to lift her eyes from her harp. She sings again,
"Their greed was great
Their desires of us
Demands we would not meet
They brought danger here
With no reward
For the friends
They'd come to greet.."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari stands, hands on the table (not difficult considering dwarf/table height ratio), glancing frequently to King Dain. The healer's round face is turning red, picking out scars in white. "It continues?!" the dwarf shouts right through the song, directly at the singer.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
The golden-haired Lasbelin only pauses for a moment, closing her eyes as she picks up the next verse. Her voice remains steady and clear...except for perhaps a tiny waver here and there. Her eyes open to the room again, and dart here and there, perhaps lingering on the exit.
And if one sought
A lady fair
Of the Naugrim
What would they find?
Just more long beards
And drunken brawls
No lady pure and fine..."
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin looks up at the dwarven healer and gives a very frightened little yelp. "Ai!" The slender silver haired elf squeals, looking into Thari's livid face. Eyes quickly sweeping the room, she decides in a second that behind the very tall, clumsy man might be the safest place to hide. And so Daemuin runs to a place behind Mobeorn's chair, harp still in hand. After recovering for a moment, she peers from up over Mobeorn's shoulder to finish the song, "
"Bardings give
Gold for talk
So now take heed
Else Men and Elf
Reward Dwarfs' greed.."
[Dain] Dain's fingers fall away from his mouth and his lips part, brows now stitched tightly together. Any remnant of his previous good humour is vanished, and his willingness to believe this some sort of joke on the part of the elves seems quickly fading as well. He glances at Thari as the healer shouts indignantly at the woodland folk and his grim expression suggests his own question is much the same.
Both hands go to the edge of the table when Lasbelin picks up the song again and, from the sudden straightening of his back and squaring of his shoulders, the king seems most perturbed by this latest verse. He stands quite abruptly, and though he is one of the shorter members of the high table, he makes an imposing figure. "What insult is this, Lady Elves, to bring such a song to such a gathering?" he barks after Daemuin's latest verse.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari, however, is already moving. The dwarf's strong hand goes to the table, grips blindly at the tankard, and as King Dain begins to speak, hurls it at Lasbelin with a growl. It tumbles end-over-end, spewing golden ale along the way, and is, frankly, poorly aimed.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
With the sudden departure of her companion-in-criminal-music, Lasbelin gives Daemuin quite a shocked look. But with the voices echoing in the hall, her attention turns to them. She is silent for a moment, before she offers a respectful bow to Dain. She looks as if she is about to speak, but then? There is a heavy tankard flying towards her. There is no time to give an answer. The elf quickly leaps to the side, nearly stumbling over her own feet with a small squeal. Without thinking, Lasbelin quickly reaches for the nearest tankard with slender fingers, heaving it towards the small instigator.
[Lasbelin(#25570)] It's a reflex. Really!
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
Truly.
[Dain] "Stay your hands, dwarves!" Dain's bellow carries throughout the hall, his fist thumping down loudly on the table before him. He leans forward and places both hands upon the table.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] But Mobeorn is on a bench, not a chair, and is leaning back against the wall, so there is slight room for the cowardly elf. He twists around, looking behind him. "Oh no you don't!" he grumbles. "I'm not about to hold off an army of dwarves just because you folk are rude hosts."
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin's blue-green eyes flash. "Oh!" She exclaims, her expression turning rather nasty for an elf. "Well. The next song I write is going to be a detailed account of all the shortcomings of -men-." The remark is clearly directed at him, as she then turns on her heel and darts back toward Lasbelin with her head held high, still carefully cradling her harp. Fortunately for her, the goblet-flinging seems to have stopped when she returns to her proper spot at the table.
[Thari(#31038)]
It's been said that elves have better reflexes than dwarves, probably by some dirty elf-lover, but in this case it's true! Thari is clocked in the head by a tankard, knocked backwards, and is picked up by some of the other Khazad.
This makes the dwarves angry, to say the least. One look at Thari and some of them are climbing over the tables, making toward the elves. It is the King's voice that saves them, for the dwarves stop where they stand as Thari traces hand over a black spot on the brow filling with a touch of blood.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] The Beorning men, who prior to this had kept to themselves, are roaring with laughter and applauding now at the evening's "entertainment." Some hoist tankards to the elven women. "Sing it again, lassies!"
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
While she may have retaliated on instinct or a moment of anger, it fades away quickly. A hand covers the lower half of her features as the cup connects with Thari's head, and worry...and guilt...fill Lasbelin's eyes. "I...I did not mean for that to happen, sir!" she calls, sounding genuinely concerned. Never mind the fact, if there are any dward women /here/, she probably could not tell. As the calls from the Beornings rise, her color darkens.
[Dain] "Enough!" Dain shouts when the retaliatory tankard strikes Thari across the brow and knocks the healer backwards. "Dwarves! You will be -seated-! Erebor does not attack those whom it invites under a flag of friendship, even if such grace is not returned. Now sit and be content."
The elder king turns his dark gaze upon Lasbelin and Daemuin now, clearly angry, but composed. For a moment he looks tempted to address the two elves in private, especially with the ruckus that the laughing Beornings are now creating. But he does not, yet at least. "My ladies," he rumbles at them, "this song came, you say, from your lord. What is the meaning of such an insult? This was reckoned a friendly gathering, a feast of friends, and such a song serves only to solidify division."
[Thari(#31038)]
The dwarves move very reluctantly back to their places at their King's word, but do not resist his bidding. Thari, arighted now, covers the spot on the scarred brow and glares at the elves. Slowly the gaze goes to Dain.
Jobrand has disconnected.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin sets her harp on the table and, looking between Lasbelin and the injured Thari, decides that she definitely needs a drink. Her goblet is still on the table, and she takes a long drink from it. She continues to blush at the cheers from the Beorning men, giving a few of them irritated looks over the rim of her cup. She only sets the goblet down in order to answer the dwarf king. "Thranduil is not harboring feelings of friendship and goodwill toward the Naugrim at the moment," Daemuin says as if it weren't obvious. A shrug of her little shoulders. "He asked us to write a song about how your people brought danger into our home," she adds meekly.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] "Go on, lass!" Mobeorn laughs as Daemuin threatens to make songs about men. "We'd enjoy it and at least we wouldn't throw tankards at ya! Waste of a fine ale!" The Beorning men laugh onc emore, their whole table brought to life. A few wolf whistles are sent Lasbelin's way, as well.
[Dain] Dain frowns at Daemuin's explanation and his eyes flick to the area of the hall where most dwarves are assembled. He is silent for a few moments, scowling briefly at the continuing Beornings. "Danger has ever pervaded your home, my lady, and it is the doing of the world, not of the dwarves. These darkening days should serve as proof enough of that. Is the purpose of your people's presence here only to insult the dwarves and feast on the food of those who extend the hand of friendship?"
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
At the whistles from the men, Lasbelin turns, a bit of a storm gathering in her eyes. The fair-haired elf tilts her head, given them a rather challenging half of a smile...if not mildly threatening in its sweetness. A hand is brought to her lips, and she blows a kiss at them. She then turns back, offering a deep bow to both the dwarven King, and one to the injured Thari as well. "I apologize, my Lord, we meant no ill will," she offers, "If we were...able yet to continue...all ears could have been alight to more of the song. In which we would have sang of the...quirks of our kind as well." Though her voice is flawless and steady, one would wonder if she is yet making this all up on the spot. "I will yet owe a favor to the one I...threw the goblet at. It was not my intension to cause harm to any."
[Thari(#31038)]
A tiny little rivulet of blood seeps from between Thari's fingers. The short healer mutters something and pushes away from the table to walk toward the wall, where linens lay. "It was my intention to cause harm to ye!" comes a bit of a shout, quickly silenced.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Daemuin turns to look at her friend and partner in crime, surprise by the eloquence and sudden cleverness with which she handles the delicate situation. Still, the petite harpist is inclined to speak the truth, "King Thranduil is not pleased with recent events, and no matter who brought the danger into the Greenwood or why, those are his feelings on the matter. I have sang what my King asked, but I am sorry for some of the consequences." Blue-green eyes look at Thari's forehead again. "And," she adds quietly, "it is my opinion that in such dark times, friendship shouldn't be scorned so." She looks worriedly at the faces of the other elves, perhaps expecting ridicule for her contrary words.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] "A song! More of the song!" the men of Beorning now clamor, knocking empty tankards (and some full ones) on their table to add to the noise. The elf-woman's anger seems to scare them not at all, but then, they have spent the entire evening drinking. Copiously.
[Dain] "Master Dwarf, you will control yourself," Dain barks at Thari, silver brows stitching together. "If we allowed such slights to decide our allies and our enemies, then Erebor would still today be the brood of the worm Smaug and we would stand now upon his desolation." Turning back to Lasbelin and Daemuin, the king lifts his chin and straightens. Ignoring the Beornings still, he says, "And for that reason, you may continue your song, my ladies, convenient as the order of the barbs seems to be." He remains standing.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari turns and, napkin pressed to brow, bows deeply toward the King's table and does not arise again for some time, beard wagging to the floor. When the healer does straighten again, it is silently to move to the table again.
[Daemuin(#20106)] Too much wine even for an elf, and the very tense energy of the room have gotten to Daemuin, and when the Beorning men keep on clamoring for another song, and even the dwarven king has bid them to sing again, the silver haired elf maid picks up her harp and strikes up a very lively tune. The melody is reminiscent of the other song they sang, but this one is much faster and louder. And as she plays, she makes her way through the men and dances, straying very close to them as she gracefully attempts to kick up her heels.
[Dain] Dain takes his seat again, but this time with narrowed eyes and his arms crossed over his white beard. He is utterly silent, but his eyes flick around the assembly. Durin only knows what will follow.
[Lasbelin(#25570)]
"Daemuin, my friend, will not you sit with the menfolk? Your presence seems to sooth them," Lasbelin calls, a small smirk flitting across her lips. She inclines her head again to the dwarves, eyes falling briefly to Thari. "If you wish to throw another at me, I will not be disagreeable." She then turns in a half circle, arms spread wide to include all present. "And so, a song," she calls. As Daemuin picks up another melody, she lifts her voice:
"Now Bards tell many tales in kind
Of quirks and shorts and all others tall
As those that here may
Keep close in mind...
"While the dwarf have their beards
The men have their drink
Flirty with all they might see
Though I guarentee
The Naugrim can hold their spirits
Much more!
"And the last, I fear
If us Elvenkind
May be that while here
Our voices are clear
At our dear homes
They are lowly and not fit to be heard."
[Daemuin(#20106)] Laughing as she plays the merry tune, Daemuin is pulled onto a bench with several men, whom she encourages to clap while she plays the harp. The mood in the great hall is once again a little lighter many faces are smiling again, seeming to enjoy the two strange bardesses and their songs.
[Mobeorn(#22365)] Mobeorn, in turn, slips out of the hall, actually managing to do it quietly this time.
Players: Thari, Dain, Lasbelin, Daemuin, Mobeorn
