Elendor
Penny for a rant?
Frarin and Thari vent to each other about Ranol.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Wellinghall, home of Frarin and Thari
IC Time: Evening
Description: Greathall of Thorin Oakenshield (Barazin Thingstead)(#10172RtAMU)
Likely to be one of the most beautifuly delved halls outside of Khazad-Dum, the Barazin clan's main hall has been designed by the most expert miners and artisans Erebor has. Azure arches leap from the corners of the hall, vaulting towards the ceiling at an ever lower angle until they meet, creating a star of blue crystal, which sheds light over the entire chamber. The floor shines in the light of the star as well as numerous crystal lamps hung around the walls. Reliefs are chiseled into nearly every surface here, depicting the very work it took to create such a masterpiece: dwarves, delving and bringing the art of stonework into these halls. Numerous small arches open along the walls, leading to personal quarters of clan members. A large, redish arch to the stairs going up to the gate, and another just like it leads south into the mines.
Contents:
Thari
Obvious exits:
NorthWest leads to Greathall of Thrain II.
Arched Silver Door (East) leads to Chambers of Thorak Silverfist.
Long Stairs leads to Clan Barazin Gate.
South leads to Mines.
[Thari(#31038)]
When Frarin was late for dinner, Thari let the cook go home and set off for Ranol's with some of the food. An hour or so later, the door of Wellinghall opens again and is slammed nosily shut, something of an achievement considering the heavy door and the silent construction.
Thari stamps once or twice in the entryway. After this, she walks toward the dining room where supper is still laid out but gone cold. Her head is held high and her eyes are blazing.
[Frarin] The dining room is not empty when Thari arrives at it, for Frarin has recently returned home himself. He is still in his forge clothes and his black-stained fingers betray that he is recently come enough to not even have cleaned up yet. He is seated at the dining table, chair scooted out a bit to sit at an angle from the table itself, with one elbow resting on the surface. He is currently flicking through his worn ledger book, a bit of bread and butter held in his free hand.
The silversmith looks up at Thari's entrance into the room and sits up a bit, giving her a smile, though there is something forced about it. "Hullo, dear," he rumbles. "Where have you been?" He sounds distant, almost disinterested, distracted.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Off to see Ranol!" Thari answers crossly, in the same sort of tone one might expect for a statement such as, 'Trapped among elves!' or 'Visiting Siv!'
She stops at the table, drums her fingers on it for a little while, then picks up a gravy-boat and makes off for the kitchen with it. "Where've you been? What's the matter?" she asks briskly.
[Frarin] Frarin's expression darkens at the mention of Ranol and he pulls a familiar face - lips pressed together, narrowed eyes glancing sarcastically to the side. "Might ask you the same thing," he says gruffly, now looking up fully as Thari snatches up the gravy-boat and marches off for the kitchen. "I've been working, is all."
[Thari(#31038)]
"That's not true, something is the matter," Thari counters from the next room. She returns to the dining room and takes up a half-carved roast. "Are you hungry? Would you like me to heat up your supper?"
She pauses on her way back to the kitchen. "Is it the ledger-book? Would you like me to have a look over it?"
[Frarin] "Hm, what? No, no," Frarin mutters, closing the ledger book and tossing it across the table in case Thari still wants a look. Then, holding up the bread he has been eating, he says, "Nay, I am fine with this. Now what's the matter with you?" He takes the opportunity to take a bite of his bread, conveniently failing to answer Thari's own question.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Ranol-- he--" Thari splutters a bit from the kitchen and then comes back. "Now, mind you, I wouldn't say these things to anyone except you, but he doesn't have a bit of appreciation for family kindness! He doesn't! He's rude to me!" Now the vegetables are gathered up and taken away. "Mind you don't get soot from your fingers in your food, dear," she adds unthinkingly.
[Frarin] Frarin's brow furrows for a moment and he glances down at his fingers, then, like all good men the world over, absently wipes them on his trousers and looks back up to Thari as she disappears into the kitchen. That sarcastic look falls across his face again and he shakes his head to himself. "Mmhmm," he muses. "What, pray, has he done to so offend you?" He gathers up the unused goblets and jugs and follows Thari into the kitchen.
[Thari(#31038)]
"You don't believe me!" Thari accuses. Her voice is hollow because she is in the pantry, built deep into the cold stone. "That's fine then, don't believe me. Do you know that he's embarrassed to be around me? It's true! He doesn't want me to come over and he doesn't want to talk with me. He isn't great friends with me like he is with you, though I thought he was." She says all of this in a cross, resentful tone as she walks out of the pantry and fastens the door shut.
[Frarin] The dry expression remains as Frarin comes into the kitchen and places the dishes into the sink, but then he turns towards the pantry and props his back against the kitchen counter and crosses his arms. "I wasn't being sarcastic," he says wryly, speaking slowly, head tipped to the side. "And he isn't as great a friends with me as you think. He's cross with me, I'll guarantee that's all to do with whatever he said to you."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari crosses the kitchen then and leans against the counter opposite him, her own arms folding in mirror. "What did he say to you?" she asks in that protective tone she sometimes gets.
[Frarin] Frarin snorts, rolls his eyes and shakes his head, looking sidelong at Thari as if sharing in a private joke with her. "It's what he didn't say rather," he grumbles. He doesn't sound sulky or greatly angry like he sometimes is in similar situations, but his tone is very sarcastic, almost...disgusted?
"I visited him this afternoon. Ran into Hildis, oh what, a few weeks ago now and some of what she said to me gave me cause for concern. I don't interfere, I hate it when others do, but I thought I ought at least to tell Ranol my concerns. What he does with relation to Hildis does not affect solely him, after all, it's not simply a personal matter. But he won't open his bloody eyes."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Well and then he doesn't want to talk with me and directly afterwards asks me for advice!" Thari throws up her hands. "What's the matter with those two? If you were courting me and went around asking people if you ought to or not I would've chucked you right out on your ear, I would have."
[Frarin] "Oh he's acting a bloody fool," Frarin mutters vehemently, almost to himself. "If they're not meant to be together, then that is as it is and he should rightly break it off. Else he should put some bloody effort into the lot. Hildis is a good lass, she isn't simply a convenience. He even told me that he was feeling more certain of their relationship, and now I've gone and told him it's not all as convenient as all that and he's going to break it off. You watch if he doesn't."
Frarin shakes his head again, breathing loudly through his nose as his beard bunches under his throat. "Won't put a penny of effort into anything but his job. What ever happened to his wanting to work wood? He's become naught but Braldor's servant, by Durin."
[Thari(#31038)]
"That's what he said to me!" Thari says, pointing at Frarin. "He told me he would break it off with her! Well and I told him that perhaps it's the right thing to do if he doesn't want her so much. Could you imagine thinking of breaking it off with me? You'd never have done it! Save for that one time that you nearly tried," she amends, "but that was the elvish air getting to you or something alike, I suppose."
[Frarin] "I was only angry then," Frarin mutters, brushing off the illusion to Rivendell. "This though, this is...is laziness." He grunts to himself and pushes away from the counter, waving one hand in the air as if to cut the matter off. "But let him then, it is his life to lead as he sees fit. I shall do no more interfering and I doubt very much whether he will seek my opinion again. If he wishes to follow in Braldor's footsteps, then let him and be done with it. They make a -fine- pair." He stamps angrily for the dining room, muttering something about retrieving some more dishes.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari pushes away from the counter and follows after him. "I still say that he would leave off his job if the right lass inspired him to do so," she insists. "But that's neither here nor there. I'm not talking to him myself as I've no intention of forcing myself on someone. You could never say I'm that sort of person!" She moves around the table, gathering up silver from two place-settings.
[Frarin] "Like hell he would," Frarin goes on muttering, in the sort of manner that implies he is muttering only to himself, but loud enough for Thari to hear. "Some lads aren't meant to marry and that's that, but this...this...this is different." The last word is curt and brief, cut off by the silversmith's frustration. After all, is it really -that- different? Good luck getting Frarin to admit that though.
"He's in love with that bloody job. With soldiering. With Braldor. Fine, I say, tis his life and he doesn't want others interfering and that's fine, just fine." Ah, that revealing profolific use of the word 'fine'. Frarin grabs impatiently at a platter of rolls and biscuits.
[Thari(#31038)]
"There will be other girls, if he changes his mind later," Thari says in a doubtful tone. "There are always a few left. After all, I didn't marry until I was over one hundred and twenty." She stacks up the remaining dishes and turns to the kitchen again.
[Frarin] "It's different for men," Frarin says, stacking platters with many an impatient clatter and clank. "There's so few women amongst our people that unless there is pressure from the family to do so, a young dwarf like Ranol doesn't necessarily feel the need to marry. And somehow I doubt that Ranol's father is encouraging his son to anything."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari places their fine silver away in the velvet-lined chest made for them. "Then why should he marry anyway? It doesn't sound as if he'd be a very attentive husband."
[Frarin] Frarin's shoulders sag unhappily, the dry look increasing. "That isn't the -point-." But, setting the stack of plates into the kitchen sink, the silversmith does not seem about to elaborate.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Oh." There's a thoughtful, still silence after Thari snaps the clasp shut on the silverware. "The point is that he isn't thinking for himself, isn't it? Ooh! He is so horrid to try to have a conversation with!"
[Frarin] "Hm," Frarin grunts in unhelpful reply, snatching up a rag to try and rub some more of the soot from his fingers. Tone still irritated but resigned, he throws his hands up and say, "Enough, enough. He's still your cousin. And mine. He can do what he bloody well likes. I'll have no part of it." And with that he is stamping back towards the dining room, despite there being no more dishes to clean up.
[Thari(#31038)]
"He didn't want to have a thing to do with me when we came back to the Mountain, not a thing to do with me when he lived with me..." Thari trails off with a sigh, following Frarin again. She's snatched up another wet rag and now sets about wiping off the table, with all of its three gravy drips due to the lack of eaten food.
[Frarin] Frarin sighs and gives Thari a long look. "Thari, you do not seriously believe he dislikes you? Stop pouting, lass. I do not approve of his actions, but he is still your cousin, Thari."
[Thari(#31038)]
"I'm not pouting, I'm talking to you, and that's different!" Thari is apparently trying to rub a hole through the table with her rag. "I told you quite clearly that I wouldn't say these sorts of things to anyone but you. Very nice," she mutters, turning toward the kitchen again. "Pouting, is it?" She continues muttering to herself but she's less audible from the other room.
[Frarin] "To me or not," Frarin continues, following Thari back to the kitchen, "you're still pouting." He comes into the kitchen and gives Thari a half smile, lingering in the doorway with his arms crossed. "Why do you think Ranol does not wish to spend time with you? You can hardly think it is because of you yourself, dear Thari."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Well I can't hardly think of what his reasons might be," Thari answers while laying out the cloth to dry. "He can't possibly have any good ones." She turns around to face Frarin, tossing her head so that a bit of her hair lifts from her brow. "I just thought he didn't like to talk to people very much, but just realized tonight that he particularly dislikes talking to me." Her eyebrows draw together in both a cross and thoughtful way. "Which is fine. I thought he'd rather like being involved with me and my family again, but if he doesn't, that's his own business!"
[Frarin] Frarin sighs as if drawn between his usually sensible nature and his more periodic fits of anger, unsure whether to defend Ranol or continue to decry him. In the end, he settles on neither, saying only, "What did he say to you today?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"He just didn't want to talk to me," Thari says briskly, folding her arms over her beard. "About anything. He doesn't trust me. That's all. That's fine. I just thought we were better friends than that, but that's fine."
[Frarin] Frarin rolls his eyes and pulls another face at Thari. "He doesn't want to talk about personal issues to anyone, Thari. You remember that meeting in the Greathall of Thrain? When Hildis tried to bring me into things? Or anything to do with his father, for that matter." He lifts his brows at Thari, almost amused. "You mustn't take that personally. I have known him all of four years, you have known him all your life, you should at least recognise that in his character."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari shifts her shoulders a little and looks away. "He trusts you more than he does me," she grumbles, but there's a small note of concession in her voice.
[Frarin] "Well he won't after today," Frarin mutters, pushing away from the doorway and coming up behind Thari when she turns away. He puts his hands on her shoulders and gently rubs them. "Does that make you feel any better?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's shoulders relax under his hands. Her arms unfold. "Of course not, dear. He is your friend too. He'll come out of it, don't fret. He trusts you a great deal, as well he should."
[Frarin] Frarin gives a soft snort, rolling his eyes though Thari cannot see it. "Perhaps he shall." But at that he falls silent for a moment, gently rubbing Thari's shoulders still. Abruptly he sighs to himself and says quietly to Thari, "Do you think he is beginning to take after Braldor?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's head falls forward as she relaxes. She is silent for a thoughtful moment or two before she answers. "I think he is a little bit like Braldor in some ways anyway. I can't say if he's become more like him, however. Perhaps you're just noticing how Ranol always has been?"
[Frarin] Frarin is quiet a moment, then grunts to himself. "Hm. Aye...perhaps you are too then." Falling silent again, he becomes still in thought. Then he leaves off rubbing Thari's shoulders and goes to the sink instead, where he begins to scrub a plate. "Well, we shall see. Perhaps he...Well, we shall see."
Likely to be one of the most beautifuly delved halls outside of Khazad-Dum, the Barazin clan's main hall has been designed by the most expert miners and artisans Erebor has. Azure arches leap from the corners of the hall, vaulting towards the ceiling at an ever lower angle until they meet, creating a star of blue crystal, which sheds light over the entire chamber. The floor shines in the light of the star as well as numerous crystal lamps hung around the walls. Reliefs are chiseled into nearly every surface here, depicting the very work it took to create such a masterpiece: dwarves, delving and bringing the art of stonework into these halls. Numerous small arches open along the walls, leading to personal quarters of clan members. A large, redish arch to the stairs going up to the gate, and another just like it leads south into the mines.
Contents:
Thari
Obvious exits:
NorthWest leads to Greathall of Thrain II.
Arched Silver Door (East) leads to Chambers of Thorak Silverfist.
Long Stairs leads to Clan Barazin Gate.
South leads to Mines.
[Thari(#31038)]
When Frarin was late for dinner, Thari let the cook go home and set off for Ranol's with some of the food. An hour or so later, the door of Wellinghall opens again and is slammed nosily shut, something of an achievement considering the heavy door and the silent construction.
Thari stamps once or twice in the entryway. After this, she walks toward the dining room where supper is still laid out but gone cold. Her head is held high and her eyes are blazing.
[Frarin] The dining room is not empty when Thari arrives at it, for Frarin has recently returned home himself. He is still in his forge clothes and his black-stained fingers betray that he is recently come enough to not even have cleaned up yet. He is seated at the dining table, chair scooted out a bit to sit at an angle from the table itself, with one elbow resting on the surface. He is currently flicking through his worn ledger book, a bit of bread and butter held in his free hand.
The silversmith looks up at Thari's entrance into the room and sits up a bit, giving her a smile, though there is something forced about it. "Hullo, dear," he rumbles. "Where have you been?" He sounds distant, almost disinterested, distracted.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Off to see Ranol!" Thari answers crossly, in the same sort of tone one might expect for a statement such as, 'Trapped among elves!' or 'Visiting Siv!'
She stops at the table, drums her fingers on it for a little while, then picks up a gravy-boat and makes off for the kitchen with it. "Where've you been? What's the matter?" she asks briskly.
[Frarin] Frarin's expression darkens at the mention of Ranol and he pulls a familiar face - lips pressed together, narrowed eyes glancing sarcastically to the side. "Might ask you the same thing," he says gruffly, now looking up fully as Thari snatches up the gravy-boat and marches off for the kitchen. "I've been working, is all."
[Thari(#31038)]
"That's not true, something is the matter," Thari counters from the next room. She returns to the dining room and takes up a half-carved roast. "Are you hungry? Would you like me to heat up your supper?"
She pauses on her way back to the kitchen. "Is it the ledger-book? Would you like me to have a look over it?"
[Frarin] "Hm, what? No, no," Frarin mutters, closing the ledger book and tossing it across the table in case Thari still wants a look. Then, holding up the bread he has been eating, he says, "Nay, I am fine with this. Now what's the matter with you?" He takes the opportunity to take a bite of his bread, conveniently failing to answer Thari's own question.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Ranol-- he--" Thari splutters a bit from the kitchen and then comes back. "Now, mind you, I wouldn't say these things to anyone except you, but he doesn't have a bit of appreciation for family kindness! He doesn't! He's rude to me!" Now the vegetables are gathered up and taken away. "Mind you don't get soot from your fingers in your food, dear," she adds unthinkingly.
[Frarin] Frarin's brow furrows for a moment and he glances down at his fingers, then, like all good men the world over, absently wipes them on his trousers and looks back up to Thari as she disappears into the kitchen. That sarcastic look falls across his face again and he shakes his head to himself. "Mmhmm," he muses. "What, pray, has he done to so offend you?" He gathers up the unused goblets and jugs and follows Thari into the kitchen.
[Thari(#31038)]
"You don't believe me!" Thari accuses. Her voice is hollow because she is in the pantry, built deep into the cold stone. "That's fine then, don't believe me. Do you know that he's embarrassed to be around me? It's true! He doesn't want me to come over and he doesn't want to talk with me. He isn't great friends with me like he is with you, though I thought he was." She says all of this in a cross, resentful tone as she walks out of the pantry and fastens the door shut.
[Frarin] The dry expression remains as Frarin comes into the kitchen and places the dishes into the sink, but then he turns towards the pantry and props his back against the kitchen counter and crosses his arms. "I wasn't being sarcastic," he says wryly, speaking slowly, head tipped to the side. "And he isn't as great a friends with me as you think. He's cross with me, I'll guarantee that's all to do with whatever he said to you."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari crosses the kitchen then and leans against the counter opposite him, her own arms folding in mirror. "What did he say to you?" she asks in that protective tone she sometimes gets.
[Frarin] Frarin snorts, rolls his eyes and shakes his head, looking sidelong at Thari as if sharing in a private joke with her. "It's what he didn't say rather," he grumbles. He doesn't sound sulky or greatly angry like he sometimes is in similar situations, but his tone is very sarcastic, almost...disgusted?
"I visited him this afternoon. Ran into Hildis, oh what, a few weeks ago now and some of what she said to me gave me cause for concern. I don't interfere, I hate it when others do, but I thought I ought at least to tell Ranol my concerns. What he does with relation to Hildis does not affect solely him, after all, it's not simply a personal matter. But he won't open his bloody eyes."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Well and then he doesn't want to talk with me and directly afterwards asks me for advice!" Thari throws up her hands. "What's the matter with those two? If you were courting me and went around asking people if you ought to or not I would've chucked you right out on your ear, I would have."
[Frarin] "Oh he's acting a bloody fool," Frarin mutters vehemently, almost to himself. "If they're not meant to be together, then that is as it is and he should rightly break it off. Else he should put some bloody effort into the lot. Hildis is a good lass, she isn't simply a convenience. He even told me that he was feeling more certain of their relationship, and now I've gone and told him it's not all as convenient as all that and he's going to break it off. You watch if he doesn't."
Frarin shakes his head again, breathing loudly through his nose as his beard bunches under his throat. "Won't put a penny of effort into anything but his job. What ever happened to his wanting to work wood? He's become naught but Braldor's servant, by Durin."
[Thari(#31038)]
"That's what he said to me!" Thari says, pointing at Frarin. "He told me he would break it off with her! Well and I told him that perhaps it's the right thing to do if he doesn't want her so much. Could you imagine thinking of breaking it off with me? You'd never have done it! Save for that one time that you nearly tried," she amends, "but that was the elvish air getting to you or something alike, I suppose."
[Frarin] "I was only angry then," Frarin mutters, brushing off the illusion to Rivendell. "This though, this is...is laziness." He grunts to himself and pushes away from the counter, waving one hand in the air as if to cut the matter off. "But let him then, it is his life to lead as he sees fit. I shall do no more interfering and I doubt very much whether he will seek my opinion again. If he wishes to follow in Braldor's footsteps, then let him and be done with it. They make a -fine- pair." He stamps angrily for the dining room, muttering something about retrieving some more dishes.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari pushes away from the counter and follows after him. "I still say that he would leave off his job if the right lass inspired him to do so," she insists. "But that's neither here nor there. I'm not talking to him myself as I've no intention of forcing myself on someone. You could never say I'm that sort of person!" She moves around the table, gathering up silver from two place-settings.
[Frarin] "Like hell he would," Frarin goes on muttering, in the sort of manner that implies he is muttering only to himself, but loud enough for Thari to hear. "Some lads aren't meant to marry and that's that, but this...this...this is different." The last word is curt and brief, cut off by the silversmith's frustration. After all, is it really -that- different? Good luck getting Frarin to admit that though.
"He's in love with that bloody job. With soldiering. With Braldor. Fine, I say, tis his life and he doesn't want others interfering and that's fine, just fine." Ah, that revealing profolific use of the word 'fine'. Frarin grabs impatiently at a platter of rolls and biscuits.
[Thari(#31038)]
"There will be other girls, if he changes his mind later," Thari says in a doubtful tone. "There are always a few left. After all, I didn't marry until I was over one hundred and twenty." She stacks up the remaining dishes and turns to the kitchen again.
[Frarin] "It's different for men," Frarin says, stacking platters with many an impatient clatter and clank. "There's so few women amongst our people that unless there is pressure from the family to do so, a young dwarf like Ranol doesn't necessarily feel the need to marry. And somehow I doubt that Ranol's father is encouraging his son to anything."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari places their fine silver away in the velvet-lined chest made for them. "Then why should he marry anyway? It doesn't sound as if he'd be a very attentive husband."
[Frarin] Frarin's shoulders sag unhappily, the dry look increasing. "That isn't the -point-." But, setting the stack of plates into the kitchen sink, the silversmith does not seem about to elaborate.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Oh." There's a thoughtful, still silence after Thari snaps the clasp shut on the silverware. "The point is that he isn't thinking for himself, isn't it? Ooh! He is so horrid to try to have a conversation with!"
[Frarin] "Hm," Frarin grunts in unhelpful reply, snatching up a rag to try and rub some more of the soot from his fingers. Tone still irritated but resigned, he throws his hands up and say, "Enough, enough. He's still your cousin. And mine. He can do what he bloody well likes. I'll have no part of it." And with that he is stamping back towards the dining room, despite there being no more dishes to clean up.
[Thari(#31038)]
"He didn't want to have a thing to do with me when we came back to the Mountain, not a thing to do with me when he lived with me..." Thari trails off with a sigh, following Frarin again. She's snatched up another wet rag and now sets about wiping off the table, with all of its three gravy drips due to the lack of eaten food.
[Frarin] Frarin sighs and gives Thari a long look. "Thari, you do not seriously believe he dislikes you? Stop pouting, lass. I do not approve of his actions, but he is still your cousin, Thari."
[Thari(#31038)]
"I'm not pouting, I'm talking to you, and that's different!" Thari is apparently trying to rub a hole through the table with her rag. "I told you quite clearly that I wouldn't say these sorts of things to anyone but you. Very nice," she mutters, turning toward the kitchen again. "Pouting, is it?" She continues muttering to herself but she's less audible from the other room.
[Frarin] "To me or not," Frarin continues, following Thari back to the kitchen, "you're still pouting." He comes into the kitchen and gives Thari a half smile, lingering in the doorway with his arms crossed. "Why do you think Ranol does not wish to spend time with you? You can hardly think it is because of you yourself, dear Thari."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Well I can't hardly think of what his reasons might be," Thari answers while laying out the cloth to dry. "He can't possibly have any good ones." She turns around to face Frarin, tossing her head so that a bit of her hair lifts from her brow. "I just thought he didn't like to talk to people very much, but just realized tonight that he particularly dislikes talking to me." Her eyebrows draw together in both a cross and thoughtful way. "Which is fine. I thought he'd rather like being involved with me and my family again, but if he doesn't, that's his own business!"
[Frarin] Frarin sighs as if drawn between his usually sensible nature and his more periodic fits of anger, unsure whether to defend Ranol or continue to decry him. In the end, he settles on neither, saying only, "What did he say to you today?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"He just didn't want to talk to me," Thari says briskly, folding her arms over her beard. "About anything. He doesn't trust me. That's all. That's fine. I just thought we were better friends than that, but that's fine."
[Frarin] Frarin rolls his eyes and pulls another face at Thari. "He doesn't want to talk about personal issues to anyone, Thari. You remember that meeting in the Greathall of Thrain? When Hildis tried to bring me into things? Or anything to do with his father, for that matter." He lifts his brows at Thari, almost amused. "You mustn't take that personally. I have known him all of four years, you have known him all your life, you should at least recognise that in his character."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari shifts her shoulders a little and looks away. "He trusts you more than he does me," she grumbles, but there's a small note of concession in her voice.
[Frarin] "Well he won't after today," Frarin mutters, pushing away from the doorway and coming up behind Thari when she turns away. He puts his hands on her shoulders and gently rubs them. "Does that make you feel any better?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's shoulders relax under his hands. Her arms unfold. "Of course not, dear. He is your friend too. He'll come out of it, don't fret. He trusts you a great deal, as well he should."
[Frarin] Frarin gives a soft snort, rolling his eyes though Thari cannot see it. "Perhaps he shall." But at that he falls silent for a moment, gently rubbing Thari's shoulders still. Abruptly he sighs to himself and says quietly to Thari, "Do you think he is beginning to take after Braldor?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's head falls forward as she relaxes. She is silent for a thoughtful moment or two before she answers. "I think he is a little bit like Braldor in some ways anyway. I can't say if he's become more like him, however. Perhaps you're just noticing how Ranol always has been?"
[Frarin] Frarin is quiet a moment, then grunts to himself. "Hm. Aye...perhaps you are too then." Falling silent again, he becomes still in thought. Then he leaves off rubbing Thari's shoulders and goes to the sink instead, where he begins to scrub a plate. "Well, we shall see. Perhaps he...Well, we shall see."
Players: Frarin, Thari
Located in: Erebor
