Elendor
A Matter of Income
Ranol meets with Hilvar to ask his permission to court his daughter.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Erebor
Description: Spring arrives in the world outside on the mountain, streams rush noisily with snow melt, birds begin to arrive from the south and already work in pairs to build nests. In the mountain, the stone needs the warmth of a good fire. Hilvar finishes stoking the logs, rearranging them to his exacting standards and goes back to his chair. He reaches for the tankard on the low table next to him and takes a long pull on it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He belches and puts the tankard down and stares into the fire.
A young Bundazanul comes calling at the home of Hilvar, knocking soundly at the door. He's wearing his armor and sword, and his blue cloak with the emblem of his clan. But, Ranol has cleaned up before coming to this place of residence. His short black hair is combed for once and he's smoothed his beard, and washed the grit of the training halls from his face. It's a large effort for the huskarl. He's carrying a small box, unmarked.
Hilvar's eyes had just begun to close, he starts and they jerk open. With a grimace he looks about to see if any of the household are going to answer, when no one comes he lumbers up from the chair, runs a hand through his hair, straightens his tunic. He is not too dishelved having been out among the traders earlier.
When he opens the door perhaps it is his surprise that make him frankly appraises Ranol's face and attire. He gives him a short formal bow. "Well, Ranol..you look like you are on duty. Come in. My daughter is not here," he adds pointedly.
Ranol bows low in return, "Good day, Master Hilvar." He says politely, stepping into the house. "I did not expect she would be, she is usually training at this time in the Hall of Dodin, is she not?" He says nothing about possibly being on duty. He holds the box out to Hilvar. "I brought this for you, sir. It is mead from the Beorning village, from last fall."
Hilvar looks at Ranol once and then looks at him again harder, surprise and a pleased smile coming to his face. "Well, well, that is a surprise. Those Beornings make a good mead, don't they? Come in, come in. Take a seat," he indicates the other chair in front of the fire.
Ranol smiles politely, nodding in agreement. He moves to sit down, quiet now as nervousness starts to sink in. He hadn't thought that far ahead past giving the dwarf the mead. "Master Hilvar.. first, I want to apologize for the trouble that you had with my father. You and Hildis both.."
The older dwarf clears his throat at the mention of Ranol's father. He fixes Ranol with an appraising look, the younger dwarf's sincerity and forthrightness taking some of the starch out of righteous anger he was prepared to launch into. "Well...well...the apology is well taken. Hildis tells me he has left."
"Aye.. off to the Iron Hills to visit family. My sister and I are staying with my Uncle Balur and his family." Ranol answers, his tone soft, but honest in nature. He seems a bit uneasy, but it shouldn't take a genius to guess at the nature of his visit and a little nervousness isn't so out of the ordinary.
"Well, well you don't say. That was mighty easy on him, don't you think?" He strokes his beard and frowns at Ranol. "My Hildy suffered a lot at his hands. I was surprised to see you here." Hilvar is not above taking advantage of a little nervousness and pushes the young huskarl.
"Sir.. I don't condone my father's actions, but, I.. had no desire to see him in prison anymore than Hildis. Regardless, it is out of my hands entirely. I have spoken with both my thane and Lord Gimli on the matter and neither will give me any information on the situation." Ranol meets Hilvar's gaze, speaking evenly on the matter, though there is pain in his eyes if one is adept at seeing such a thing.
"They are not telling you either are they? Hildy told me she went to the talk to the Thane Braldor and got no satisfaction. Our stewards don't know a thing or won't talk about it."
The appraising look returns to Hilvar's eyes, "Your apology is well taken and a noble thing on your part though you have no control over what your father does. So what brings you here, young Ranol?"
"I want you to know that I do not approve of what my father has done, Master Hilvar. If I had known any of what he intended..." Ranol shakes his head, his gaze dropping away now. He stares into the fire for a moment, drawing courage from the flame that eats away at the wood, struggling to survive though it destroys the log to do so.
Ranol speaks softly, pulling his gaze back to Hilvar. "Sir, I spoke to you before about my interest in your daughter, and I am finding myself more taken by her with each passing day. I wish to pursue a more serious relationship with her."
The relaxed look of an older dwarf having the upper hand disappears completely from Hilvar's face and demeanor. He sits straighter and scowls at Ranol. "And just what do you mean by pursuing a more serious relationship with her? I have a mind to just say no but you are polite, if nothing else, so I will hear you out."
Ranol grows a trace quieter, the reaction of Hilvar increasing his nervousness. He fights to keep his hands still and not engage in any of his fidgeting habits. "A courtship, Master Hilvar.. and if it goes well, marriage." His face is serious, and he adds quickly before Hilvar can object. "Hildis is intelligent, driven, lovely, and ambitious. I find myself distracted at my job just thinking about her.."
"No," Hilvar stands and walks over to Ranol as though he were considering hitting him but his eyes light on the sword and he swings about to pace in front of the fire. "My Hildy married. No. And who are you? Who do you think you are? Do you have money or a trade to bring to a marriage? No. You are the Thane of Bundazanul's guard dog. NO."
Ranol should have accepted a flat-out refusal, but he is ever optimistic about things and the surprise on his face is complete. He presses his lips together, standing slowly to meet Hilvar eye to eye. "Master Hilvar, the position of Huskarl is more than simply guarding. I am responsible for training the rest of his guard, organizing their tasks, and seeing that the Thane has the best protection possible at any given moment. I also train daily myself."
Rarely does he speak up about the toils of his position or the bother with a strong self-defense. Yet Ranol continues. "Before I became a clan-karl for Thane Braldor I studied under my father for decades in woodcarving. Despite his recent transgressions, my father was and still is exceptionally skilled in his craft, and he taught me well."
Hilvar's narrowed eyes and frown would seem to ask, 'And you think a wood carving guard dog that trains itself on a daily basis is good enough for my daughter?' He takes a step closer to the huskarl and finds himself eye to eye with him they are of a height.
"You have unwittingly brought a lot of pain to my daughter and I intend that she has no more. You are right that she is intelligent, ambitious and as lovely as her mother. What makes you think that you deserve her?"
"My father brought her that pain, Master Hilvar, not I." Ranol corrects, firm in his words. "If you wish to hold my entire family responsible, that is your choice, but it was no act of mine that condemned her." His expression softens, some resolve slipping away at Hilvar's question. "Truthfully, I cannot answer that. I know that I would work hard to take care of her, and do everything in my power to bring her happiness, but Hildis is deserving of no less than a Thane, or someone of the Line of Durin. That she has interest in myself is something that still amazes me."
"It baffles me. There are no dwarves of the right age that merit her...in our clan or in any other." He has resumed his pacing, the scowl pulling his eyebrows into nearly a straight line. "I suppose you have told her you intended to talk to me?"
Ranol stands still and silent, his forehead creasing faintly at the thinly veiled insults that Hilvar speaks. "I do. What displeases you about my interest, Master Hilvar? That I am not rich?" The huskarl's blue eyes steadily watch the older dwarf. "I would never put a price on your daughter, but if there is a sum I could earn that would satisfy you of my dedication and ability to care for her, tell me what it is."
"You are not rich, you are in debt, you will remain in debt for a long time. Word of your family's problems have come to us." Hilvar stops to fix Ranol with a disdainful look. "How would you earn something that would even match her dowry? You have no trade and are no merchant. We have always intended that she marry well. Love will come later."
The furrowing of his brows is the only thing that shows his feelings. Anger, frustration, insult.. but Ranol cannot deny the truth. "My debt comes out of my salary and service, sir. The rest I earn is my own. I can pursue trade work in the evenings. I can find ways to earn more. Tell me what you require."
"I require you to return home or to go about your business." Hilvar's eyes are adamant, his expression would do justice to a strong stone wall carved by one of his clan. "And no more."
"It pains me Master Hilvar, that you would place finances above your daughter's happiness. I will find you again when I can better prove my dedication." Ranol says, gazing at the merchant for a long time with subdued anger and conviction on his face.
"She will be long married by that time, I am sure." He says solemnly and then hiccups. "I will disabuse her of this nonsense when I she comes home. Now, leave her alone and let her forget this romantic silliness."
Ranol continues gazing at Hilvar for a long time, then abruptly turns to leave. Rejection stings, but there's little he can do without offending the man. No need to add that to a deck that's already stacked against him. He lets himself out, opening the door and closing it behind him calmly. He'll take out his frustration later, on the training floor.
A young Bundazanul comes calling at the home of Hilvar, knocking soundly at the door. He's wearing his armor and sword, and his blue cloak with the emblem of his clan. But, Ranol has cleaned up before coming to this place of residence. His short black hair is combed for once and he's smoothed his beard, and washed the grit of the training halls from his face. It's a large effort for the huskarl. He's carrying a small box, unmarked.
Hilvar's eyes had just begun to close, he starts and they jerk open. With a grimace he looks about to see if any of the household are going to answer, when no one comes he lumbers up from the chair, runs a hand through his hair, straightens his tunic. He is not too dishelved having been out among the traders earlier.
When he opens the door perhaps it is his surprise that make him frankly appraises Ranol's face and attire. He gives him a short formal bow. "Well, Ranol..you look like you are on duty. Come in. My daughter is not here," he adds pointedly.
Ranol bows low in return, "Good day, Master Hilvar." He says politely, stepping into the house. "I did not expect she would be, she is usually training at this time in the Hall of Dodin, is she not?" He says nothing about possibly being on duty. He holds the box out to Hilvar. "I brought this for you, sir. It is mead from the Beorning village, from last fall."
Hilvar looks at Ranol once and then looks at him again harder, surprise and a pleased smile coming to his face. "Well, well, that is a surprise. Those Beornings make a good mead, don't they? Come in, come in. Take a seat," he indicates the other chair in front of the fire.
Ranol smiles politely, nodding in agreement. He moves to sit down, quiet now as nervousness starts to sink in. He hadn't thought that far ahead past giving the dwarf the mead. "Master Hilvar.. first, I want to apologize for the trouble that you had with my father. You and Hildis both.."
The older dwarf clears his throat at the mention of Ranol's father. He fixes Ranol with an appraising look, the younger dwarf's sincerity and forthrightness taking some of the starch out of righteous anger he was prepared to launch into. "Well...well...the apology is well taken. Hildis tells me he has left."
"Aye.. off to the Iron Hills to visit family. My sister and I are staying with my Uncle Balur and his family." Ranol answers, his tone soft, but honest in nature. He seems a bit uneasy, but it shouldn't take a genius to guess at the nature of his visit and a little nervousness isn't so out of the ordinary.
"Well, well you don't say. That was mighty easy on him, don't you think?" He strokes his beard and frowns at Ranol. "My Hildy suffered a lot at his hands. I was surprised to see you here." Hilvar is not above taking advantage of a little nervousness and pushes the young huskarl.
"Sir.. I don't condone my father's actions, but, I.. had no desire to see him in prison anymore than Hildis. Regardless, it is out of my hands entirely. I have spoken with both my thane and Lord Gimli on the matter and neither will give me any information on the situation." Ranol meets Hilvar's gaze, speaking evenly on the matter, though there is pain in his eyes if one is adept at seeing such a thing.
"They are not telling you either are they? Hildy told me she went to the talk to the Thane Braldor and got no satisfaction. Our stewards don't know a thing or won't talk about it."
The appraising look returns to Hilvar's eyes, "Your apology is well taken and a noble thing on your part though you have no control over what your father does. So what brings you here, young Ranol?"
"I want you to know that I do not approve of what my father has done, Master Hilvar. If I had known any of what he intended..." Ranol shakes his head, his gaze dropping away now. He stares into the fire for a moment, drawing courage from the flame that eats away at the wood, struggling to survive though it destroys the log to do so.
Ranol speaks softly, pulling his gaze back to Hilvar. "Sir, I spoke to you before about my interest in your daughter, and I am finding myself more taken by her with each passing day. I wish to pursue a more serious relationship with her."
The relaxed look of an older dwarf having the upper hand disappears completely from Hilvar's face and demeanor. He sits straighter and scowls at Ranol. "And just what do you mean by pursuing a more serious relationship with her? I have a mind to just say no but you are polite, if nothing else, so I will hear you out."
Ranol grows a trace quieter, the reaction of Hilvar increasing his nervousness. He fights to keep his hands still and not engage in any of his fidgeting habits. "A courtship, Master Hilvar.. and if it goes well, marriage." His face is serious, and he adds quickly before Hilvar can object. "Hildis is intelligent, driven, lovely, and ambitious. I find myself distracted at my job just thinking about her.."
"No," Hilvar stands and walks over to Ranol as though he were considering hitting him but his eyes light on the sword and he swings about to pace in front of the fire. "My Hildy married. No. And who are you? Who do you think you are? Do you have money or a trade to bring to a marriage? No. You are the Thane of Bundazanul's guard dog. NO."
Ranol should have accepted a flat-out refusal, but he is ever optimistic about things and the surprise on his face is complete. He presses his lips together, standing slowly to meet Hilvar eye to eye. "Master Hilvar, the position of Huskarl is more than simply guarding. I am responsible for training the rest of his guard, organizing their tasks, and seeing that the Thane has the best protection possible at any given moment. I also train daily myself."
Rarely does he speak up about the toils of his position or the bother with a strong self-defense. Yet Ranol continues. "Before I became a clan-karl for Thane Braldor I studied under my father for decades in woodcarving. Despite his recent transgressions, my father was and still is exceptionally skilled in his craft, and he taught me well."
Hilvar's narrowed eyes and frown would seem to ask, 'And you think a wood carving guard dog that trains itself on a daily basis is good enough for my daughter?' He takes a step closer to the huskarl and finds himself eye to eye with him they are of a height.
"You have unwittingly brought a lot of pain to my daughter and I intend that she has no more. You are right that she is intelligent, ambitious and as lovely as her mother. What makes you think that you deserve her?"
"My father brought her that pain, Master Hilvar, not I." Ranol corrects, firm in his words. "If you wish to hold my entire family responsible, that is your choice, but it was no act of mine that condemned her." His expression softens, some resolve slipping away at Hilvar's question. "Truthfully, I cannot answer that. I know that I would work hard to take care of her, and do everything in my power to bring her happiness, but Hildis is deserving of no less than a Thane, or someone of the Line of Durin. That she has interest in myself is something that still amazes me."
"It baffles me. There are no dwarves of the right age that merit her...in our clan or in any other." He has resumed his pacing, the scowl pulling his eyebrows into nearly a straight line. "I suppose you have told her you intended to talk to me?"
Ranol stands still and silent, his forehead creasing faintly at the thinly veiled insults that Hilvar speaks. "I do. What displeases you about my interest, Master Hilvar? That I am not rich?" The huskarl's blue eyes steadily watch the older dwarf. "I would never put a price on your daughter, but if there is a sum I could earn that would satisfy you of my dedication and ability to care for her, tell me what it is."
"You are not rich, you are in debt, you will remain in debt for a long time. Word of your family's problems have come to us." Hilvar stops to fix Ranol with a disdainful look. "How would you earn something that would even match her dowry? You have no trade and are no merchant. We have always intended that she marry well. Love will come later."
The furrowing of his brows is the only thing that shows his feelings. Anger, frustration, insult.. but Ranol cannot deny the truth. "My debt comes out of my salary and service, sir. The rest I earn is my own. I can pursue trade work in the evenings. I can find ways to earn more. Tell me what you require."
"I require you to return home or to go about your business." Hilvar's eyes are adamant, his expression would do justice to a strong stone wall carved by one of his clan. "And no more."
"It pains me Master Hilvar, that you would place finances above your daughter's happiness. I will find you again when I can better prove my dedication." Ranol says, gazing at the merchant for a long time with subdued anger and conviction on his face.
"She will be long married by that time, I am sure." He says solemnly and then hiccups. "I will disabuse her of this nonsense when I she comes home. Now, leave her alone and let her forget this romantic silliness."
Ranol continues gazing at Hilvar for a long time, then abruptly turns to leave. Rejection stings, but there's little he can do without offending the man. No need to add that to a deck that's already stacked against him. He lets himself out, opening the door and closing it behind him calmly. He'll take out his frustration later, on the training floor.
Players: Ranol, Hilvar
Located in: Erebor
