Elendor
What rumours are these?
Thari's father Balur confronts Frarin about certain rumours concerning his daughter and the silversmith, and brother Nalur and then Thari herself join them.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Marblehead Inn
Game Date: Day 8 of September 3044
IC Time: Mid afternoon
Description:
Stables Under the Mountain(#11444RntU)
The sights and smells of the outside world fill this gigantic natural cavern. Along the walls are stalls with partitions made of stone, large enough for any size beast. The stalls go up the walls in tiers, each tier wide and railed and winding around and down to the central floor. Not only beasts but all manner of cart and wagon are stored here, most of these on the upper tiers. The eastern wall is dominated by hay, lots of hay. It is the kind of hay that smells so good that the stable hands can often be found on their off time just sitting and smelling it. You can see the heads of ponies, many of them stomping or snorting, over the stall doors, as well as stable hands running hither and thither, cleaning trappings, bringing out a beast for its master, feeding, scrubbing, or cleaning out the manure. The stable hands are all lads from the dale-lands, apprenticed to some dwarven master, stabling being a standard duty as no dwarf would think of harboring any beast. The lighting here is fairly dim, to keep the animals quiet, from ever-burning dwarven torches set in the walls.
Contents:
Thari
Frarin's Pack Ponies(#31047n)
Dwarven Camp
Merchant Wagon
Dwarven Battle Wagons(#2746OVXen)
Iron River Company Camp
Dwarven Caravan(#28238VeM)
Dwarven Wagon
Large Camp(#884OVXaeM)
Line of Wains(#23232QXe)
Obvious exits:
Dwarf Door (Out) leads to Western Valley.
Narrow Stairs at Top leads to First Hall, South End.
[Frarin] It is now barely five days since the caravan of dwarves to have passed all the way to Bree and back has returned and the mountain is still buzzing with news of their arrival. With the afternoon already well upon the land, places like Trader's Way or the Greathall of Thrain are busy as ever with bartering and gossip, and the taverns grasp for each new juicy piece of news from abroad. Even here in the vast cavern that is the stables of Erebor, there is a general murmur of voices among the coming and going. The lads of Dale glean what news they can from those dwarves here to look after their beasts or wagons.
One member of that ill-fated company, however, is not taking his leisure. Frarin is clad not in the garb of the road, but in a fine, if simple raiment a dark red cloak and black trousers, both clean and practical. Currently he seems to be arguing with one of the stable lads, brandishing a worn halter with a broken strap. "See here, lad," he is saying. "It wasn't broken when I returned to Erebor. It's survived three years on the road and not once broken. I don't care if it's your doing, but I want to know."
[Thari(#31038)]
Another fine-clad dwarf lingers in the archway opening of the stables, though his clothes are less simple than Frarin's. Brown hair and piercing blue eyes mark this dwarf, who speaks to a human stable-boy. This boy looks uncertain, then points at Frarin.
The newcome dwarf nods his thanks, gives the boy a shining coin, and walks toward Frarin, no hurry. He stops some short distance away and waits patiently, tucking his thumbs into his belt. He is watching Frarin and is obviously trying to discreetly wait for the silversmith to finish his argument.
[Frarin] The Dale lad looks a bit uncomfortable, hands clasped behind his back, rocking back on the balls of his feet. He is about as tall as Frarin, but somehow looks cowed by the silversmith's scolding. After a few moments, he mutters something and Frarin gives a knowing nod, straightening. "Fine then, lad. That's all I wanted to know. It needed replacing anyhow." That seems to brighten the boy up considerably, who quickly scampers off when Frarin gives him a dismissive wave.
Fiddling with the broken strap of the halter, Frarin turns and shakes his head. Only when the fine-clad dwarf enters his peripheral vision does the silversmith look up abruptly and slow before he runs into the newcomer. "Beg your pardon," he mutters, stepping to the side with the intent of moving around the other.
[Thari(#31038)]
The dwarf steps back from Frarin slightly to keep from being ran into, then bows deeply as Frarin mutters. "Frarin?" he asks, voice deep but smooth. "Forli's son, I am told?"
[Frarin] Frarin stops short at his own name and straightens a bit, lifting his brows at the unknown dwarf. He looks the other over quickly, frowning as if trying to remember if he should know this dwarf. But after a moment he turns to face him fully and returns the deep bow and responds politely. "At your service and your family's. What can I do for you?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"I am Nalur son of Balur at your service," the dwarf answers politely. It might be noted that there is very little resemblance to Thari in this brother, but one familiar to the family might also see that his eyes are exactly like Ranol's. "I had only hoped to make your aquaintance before you left."
[Frarin] Frarin's expression changes as Nalur introduces himself, but how exactly is difficult to say. There is surprise and doubt, but also a hint of wariness suggested by a short, sharp breath. But there is equally an easying of that wariness after a moment, though a certin stiffness remains. He is quiet, then frowns politely again and nods. "I am pleased to meet you, Nalur son of Balur. I leave tomorrow morning, you are lucky to have caught me, with my being all over the mountain in the past few days."
[Thari(#31038)]
Nalur smiles to Frarin, a comfortable and friendly expression. "Oh, I thought you might be here. I thought it wasn't quite fair that everyone was able to meet you but me. Can you spare an hour?" His brows lift in a small expression of hope. "For supper at the Marblehead?"
[Frarin] Frarin's brows lift still higher as Nalur continues, and he gives an odd little expression, as if snorting without actually snorting. "You mean make my acquaintance. There is only one who is unable to meet me at present." He says no more though, fiddling with the broken halter again as if toying with the idea of making an excuse to avoid supping with Nalur.
He does not, however. He looks up again and gives another polite nod, and even a small smile this time. "Of course. I have not yet eaten anyhow."
[Thari(#31038)]
Nalur's smile widens to an amused grin. "I take it you've met my brother," he says in a mirthful voice while turning and walking toward the door. "You've the wary air of a dwarf who has tangled with the infamous Olur. I thank you for taking supper with me despite that!"
[Frarin] Frarin does not return Nalur's grin, but something about his demeanor relaxes again, easing his manner slightly more. The halter is hung up on a peg next to a black pony's stall and Frarin unrolls the sleeves of his tunic, brushing a few bits of hay from his clothes. "Olur? Nay, very little in fact, though yes, I have met him. Briefly. I have met most with your father. A most...formidable dwarf."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Formidable indeed," Nalur agrees, head turned toward Frarin as he mounts the steps that lead up toward the hall and, eventually, the inn. "Thari did not preopare you for that?" There is slightly less amusement in his eyes.
[Frarin] "No, no, I was well prepared," Frarin says carefully, mounting the steps as well and watching them as he makes his way up them. He looks sidelong as Nalur, giving a wary, testing smile. "But...two formidable dwarves together, of differing opinions? There is not preparation for that."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Imagine growing up between Olur and Thari," Nalur says ruefully with a shake of the head. "Makes a lad immune to many things." He takes a glance at Frarin sidelong as he reaches the landing and turns.
Marblehead Inn(#29623RntU)
Recessed from the din of the tavern by a lengthy tunnel, the reception room for the Marblehead Inn presents quite the serene atmosphere. The rooms available to house the weary visitor, all of which are only steps from this main room, are separated into class divisions, perhaps to allow wealthier guests the rooms nearer the surface. Light provided by a narrow shaft in the ceiling, coupled with a blazing fireplace, create a homely atmosphere for visitors of the inn upon entrance. Down either hallway along the north and south walls are rows of rooms. They are made private from passers-by with curtains or a sturdy oak door depending on their rental price. Banners depicting historical events line one wall of the more lavish hallway to provide something for the wealthy to look at. Above the reception desk where the innkeeper can usually be found hangs a plaque of burnished brass, engraved in angerthas cirth that read: GLOIN Groinson, Proprietor. All folk are welcome here under Dwarven law!
Contents:
Erebor Dart(#31704L)
Aflur(#27839OM)
Obvious exits:
Ebony Doors leads to Great Stair, Upper Landing.
Hardwood Double Doors leads to Longbeard Tavern.
Pine Hall (Down) leads to Small Room, Marblehead Inn.
Cedar Hall (Up) leads to Large Room, Marblehead Inn.
Thari comes through the ebony doors from the Great Stair's Upper Landing.
Thari has arrived.
[Frarin] Frarin actually looks amused at the last from Nalur and smiles to show it, shaking his head. "I can imagine," he rumbles quietly. They push into the Marblehead Inn and Frarin says no more, still mildly wary, or at the very least stiff and only polite. Without pause, he begins to make for the double doors of the adjorning Longbeard Tavern.
[Thari(#31038)]
Nalur parts from Frarin's side to go toward a different door, a single door of oak. "No, Frarin," he murmurs. "I take my supper here." He opens it casually and pushes through.
Frarin lifts his brows at Nalur as the other makes for a single door and the silversmith's lips press together in a dry expression. He might almost seem to roll his eyes at Nalur's back, though he does not in fact roll his eyes. His look as good as says 'That's wealth for you'. He coughs slightly, then shakes his head with a shrug and follows Nalur politely. "Naturally. Your personal dining room?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"Something like that," answers Nalur. He reaches behind Frarin to shut the door.
"There you are." Balur says gruffly lowers the dome over one of the plates with a small metal sound as he looks toward the door.
"You don't mind if my father joins us, do you?" Nalur asks, his voice nearly polite still. The younger dwarf lingers near the door.
[Frarin] Frarin's steps halt just inside the door, a low, quiet breath sucked in through his nose at the sight of Balur. His lips press together in a forced smile, but there is an unmistakable knowingness in the expression as well. The silversmith seems full well to have guessed the object of the game. Frarin clears his throat quietly, then nods at Nalur, the old wariness returning despite his previous calming. "Of course not," he rumbles quietly, still standing. To Balur, Frarin offers a bow. "Master Balur."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Master Frarin," Balur says in a hard voice, his smoothness of before missing. "We need to talk. Start by telling me about Ranor. The idiot is of course lying about a lot but there are one or two grains of truth, I am certain. Tell me what they are."
Nalur wanders to the table and lifts a dome. Steam arises along with a savory scent. The younger dwarf lingers nearer to Frarin than Balur.
[Frarin] Frarin, unusually, continues to smile, but in a humourless, dry sort of way. He shakes his head as if disbelieving. "Master Balur," says the silversmith, pulling a chair back from the table, "if you wished to speak with me about your brother-in-law, I assure you you need not have sent your son under the guise of inviting me to supper."
He seats himself, but does not scoot the chair up to the table as if preparing to eat. Instead he crosses his legs and laces his fingers together in his lap. The smile fades, though Frarin does not adopt Balur's same hardness or even his usual defensiveness. Yet, at least. "Thari came to visit me," he states bluntly, pausing very briefly before continuing. "With my cousin, brother, sister-in-law, and niece all present to meet her as well."
[Thari(#31038)]
"It was not a guise," Balur snaps. "I do not wish more gossips to be wondering about you and Thari and thus wanted no one to know that we met. People are watching you, Forli's son, and every action you take reflects in some way on my daughter!"
"The pork here is rather good," Nalur interjects. He has been serving himself a plate and he now seats himself beside Frarin. "Try it."
[Frarin] That brings a frown to Frarin's face and his eyes narrow, but still that dry look remains. "Gossips, mm? And you think that your meeting me would somehow encourage them? Into thinking what? That you condone my position?" A pause, then Frarin murmurs. "Durin forbid." Speaking louder, he adds, "Master Balur, I do not much care to be the centre of anyone's attention--" there is a brief pause as if he would add something else "--but I doubt much whether Thari much cares herself. When it comes to me." Nalur is given a passing glance, but Frarin does not shift to taste the pork. He does, however, look faintly surprised as Thari's brother seats himself next to him.
[Thari(#31038)]
"They say," Balur says, placing each word carefully in its place, "that you are my daughter's lover, and it was fortunate for her that she was not heavy with child ere you crossed the High Pass." The elder trader does not sit, but stands yet across the table from Frarin.
"I was all for hitting you in the face repeatedly when I heard that one," Nalur adds in his friendly tone while cutting his meat. "But we've all calmed down a bit and thought you might want to respond."
Balur snorts, grey eyes briefly on his son.
[Frarin] Well. There it is, that familiar defensiveness settling very comfortably over Frarin's face. He still sits with legs crossed and fingers laced together, but his posture is now very stiff and forced into continued stillness. His expression, however, changes. A deep frown pulls at narrowed eyes, which flick just as suspiciously from Balur to Nalur and back.
A deep breath and Frarin's lips purse. "Perhaps you ought to speak with Thari first. She is your daughter after all. And I would be more inclined to listen to my daughter than the rubbish of idle gossipers, or indeed even the words of her no-good lover, as you see to think me."
[Thari(#31038)]
"That's not the damned /point/!" Balur slams his hands down on the tabletop and makes the cutlery rattle, though this doesn't disturb Nalur's meal. "Whether or not it is true the gossips are saying this about Thari! I refuse to believe that you have any care for her at all if you don't mind a lot of dwarves going around and saying such things about her! Now, if you want to have any hope with her at all, you are going to start being mindful of her reputation, do you understand me?"
[Frarin] Frarin's jaw tightens and his look grows grim and angry once Balur's fist slams onto the table. First he sits forward, uncrossing his legs and hands going to the arms of his chair, scowling at the elder merchant. But at Balur's order at the last, Frarin brings his own fist down on the table, rattling the dishes a second time, and stands abruptly. "I have been perfectly--" He cuts himself short, suddenly shaking his head sharp and looking at the desk, then up again.
He leans forward with that one hand upon the table, the other with the pointer finger extended, jabbing at the surface to make a point. And his tone is forced into something resembling decency. "I have been -very- mindful of Thari's honour." A pause, more quietly. "More than you would know." Then back to that angry growl. "A year it is now since Thari and I knew we wished to wed, and we have maintained her honour faithfully every single day of it. Give your daughter some bloody credit, Balur! Even if you will not me."
"We have ever been honourable, but if you think that either of us were content to spend a year in love without a moment alone, then it has been too many years since first you fell in love. What the hell do you want me to do? Remove to the Greathall of Thrain and declare to the mountain that we are not lovers? Yes, surely -that- will remove all gossip!"
[Thari(#31038)]
Nalur's knife falls clear off of his plate with the second fist pounded on the table and he sighs, laying down his fork.
Balur is silent for a while, eyes narrowed as he watches Frarin. Abruptly he pulls out a chair and seats himself in it, lacing his hands over his beard at his stomach. "Nalur, go and fetch your sister," he says abruptly. "Discreetly."
"Discreetly," echoes Nalur in an amused tone. "Naturally." He looks mournfully at his plate, then stands and exits.
"Frarin," Balur begins again in a somewhat calmer though still strained tone when the door is shut. "I would just like for you to understand that everything you do reflects on Thari. There are a lot of people who do not wish you well in this and are eager to spread rumors and hurt her. Hurt my business relations through this affair."
[Frarin] Frarin still leans over the desk as Balur directs Nalur to fetch Thari, but once the door is closed, he sits back heavily into the chair, huffing with a frown. He does not readopt his comfortable position, instead continuing to sit stiffly forward, hands on the arms of the chair. His brows remain knit together.
"Who?" he says gruffly. "Other hopeful suitors for her? Your rivals? I doubt very much whether your business would be greatly hurt by your daughter's marriage to a relatively obscure silver merchant, or even rumours of indiscretion. Even those who would avoid your business on principle could not afford to. And I ask again, what would you have me do instead? People will talk, I cannot stop up the mouths of every dwarf in Erebor."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Other dwarves who have been her suitors before and their families, yes. Rivals, yes." Balur leans forward and pours himself a cup of beer. "You need to stop behaving as if you are an obscure silver merchant, lad, because you aren't right now." He drinks quickly.
[Frarin] Frarin is breathing heavily and still scowling, but he at least seems to have calmed down a bit. He even sits back slightly in his chair. "Very well then," the silversmith says gruffly. "So you would have me change my actions to form a more reputable reputation? That I will not do, Balur. I am not overmuch interested in others poking about my affairs and I doubt whether Thari would want me to change my ways so that they are more suitable to the tastes of others."
"You are a very wealthy and influencial dwarf, Master Balur," Frarin continues, tipping his head back and lacing his fingers together. "And I imagine that I will be dealing with a certain amount of fame for the rest of my life, and if that is to be the case, then I will not live according to the wishes of others. Unless that other is Thari," he adds quietly. "Do you care more for Thari's happiness or reputation? I cannot tell as yet."
[Thari(#31038)]
Balur sets the cup down on the table again, nostrils flaring a little as he leans forward. But his voice is not raised. "Do you honestly believe that Thari would be happy if she knew that it is said she is the type of lass who will take a lover before she is married?"
The door opens to deep laughter that soon quiets. Thari enters with a sombre expression, though her eyes are dancing with some mirth. This is gone as she gasps. "Frarin!" she says in delight.
"Papa!" Balur mutters as Nalur enters.
"Papa!" Thari echoes with a laugh and goes over to kiss the elder dwarf's head. But her eyes are on Frarin.
[Frarin] "I don't think she cares as much for talk as you think she--" Frarin cuts off, abruptly straightening at the sound of the opening door. He twists a bit to see Thari and forces a smile. But it is very forced, as if at once happy to see the healer and yet so deeply unhappy with the whole situation that he wishes she were not here to witness it.
"Thari," the silversmith greets as Thari goes to her father. And after a breath's pause, for who's benefit who can say, he adds, "dear."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari straightens and walks around the table toward Frarin. "What's the matter?" she asks him, brow furrowing. Her hand goes to his shoulder as she studies his eyes with some concern. Nalur seats himself beside Frarin again but does not eat.
"Thari," Balur says in a weary tone. "You weren't actually intimate with him while you were away, were you?"
"Oh, Papa," Thari looks toward him and speaks reproachfully. "You weren't saying things like that to Frarin, were you?"
[Frarin] Frarin doesn't say anything in return to Thari's concerned question, for he looks tired and angry and every other mix of emotions. After a moment, however, his hand does go up the Thari's, covering the back of hers upon his shoulder. His lips purse angrily at Balur's question to his daughter, but the silversmith does not speak until Thari's reproachful question, and even then he speaks carefully.
"Yes, he was," Frarin says, and he sounds mildly indignant. But abruptly he follows up his almost sulky comment with something that might be unexpected. "But he was only repeating rumours, Thari. That we were lovers. Rumours no doubt arisen from our times alone."
[Thari(#31038)]
"And you told him why were were alone so much, didn't you?" Thari asks while seating herself beside Frarin. The food is looking distinctly cold. "The time in your room in Bree? You told him what you did?"
She glances aside to Balur. "No, of course we weren't. I rather hope he didn't hit you, Papa. Ranor suggested something like that and Frarin here was so cross that he hit Uncle in the head. --you didn't hit him, did you?" This last bit is an undertone aside to Frarin.
Nalur, on the other side of Frarin, bursts out with a bit of laughter and then tries to smother it with a fist.
Balur is rubbing his face. "Thari, lass, you're going to be the death of me."
[Frarin] "No, I didn't," Frarin mutters at Thari's first set of questions to him, hunching his shoulders forward in a gesture that very much conveys the stubborn message of 'And I don't intend to'. His lips press together unhappily at the mention of Ranor and Frarin does not look at Balur, but he does give Thari a look that suggests a sulkiness at being on the butt end of a joke. Nalur receives an outright glare. "No, I -didn't-," he says again, snorting.
[Thari(#31038)]
Nalur, grinning, raises his cup as if in toast to Frarin's glare."I don't see how my father is to make a sensible decision about you if you won't defend yourself," Thari says scoldingly while reaching for Frarin's hand. A smal tic spasms beneath Balur's right eye, but it is gone by the time his daughter turns her face to him again.
"The rumors started because after we'd been courting a month or so I was moved into Frarin's room for a number of weeks. This was after I was shaven-- I've told you a little about that, but not all. I was beaten near to death, limbs broken, hideously ugly, and we didn't know who did it. So the dwarves trusted no one and my dear Frarin would not let me out of his sight as he guarded me and tended to me."
The blood has drained from Balur's face and he is silent, watching his daughter. His eyes flick toward Frarin.
[Frarin] Frarin looks unhappy. Rather than appear relieved or proud or pleased, his shoulders have hunched forward and his head bowed as if somehow stubbornly displeased at Thari's bragging about him. His frown is so deep that it pulls his entire face into a grim expression. He does hold tightly to Thari's hand, but his eyes flick from Thari to Balur to Thari to the spread on the table. He says nothing.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Frarin, /dear/," Thari says worriedly and sadly upon looking at his face. Her other hand goes to cover his and her fingers squeeze tightly.
Balur's glance slides away from Frarin to the far side of the room, seeming a bit at a loss.
"Old gossip-mongers," Nalur said cheerfully. "Ranor rather took advantage of that, didn't he? Useful relation, our Ranor. Let's make him vice president of lumber operations, why don't we?"
Thari suddenly has a hard time keeping a solemn look on her face. Her lips tremble as if she would laugh. Balur smiles abruptly, too, his eyes on the table board.
[Frarin] Frarin's frown relaxes slightly at Thari's worried concern and he looks up at her, squeezing her hand as his is engulfed in both of hers. He even attempts a reassuring smile. Then, back to Balur, he clears his throat briefly and speaks quietly. "Thari is...exagerrating. Ranol looked after her as well. And...she was quite...she was still as strong as the strongest among us could have been when I found her."
He swallows at Nalur's joke about Ranor, but when he glances up at Thari and sees her trembling lip, even the barest hint of a smile works its way into his beard as well.
[Thari(#31038)]
"I was not exaggerating!" Thari protests, her hands squeezing Frarin's yet again. "I don't know why you don't want anyone to know how good you've been to me, dear, and I'll try to keep it quiet if you like, but I won't let people say rude and incorrect things about you."
She looks away and back to her father again. "When he found me I had been left in the marshes to drown. I would be dead now were it not for him."
Nalur is studying Frarin sidelong. Balur clears his throat and, as awkward as any eighty-year-old, says, "I do, it appears, owe you my thanks, Master Frarin. Please accept it."
[Frarin] Frarin looks still mildly unhappy as Thari protests and continues her praise of him, but his feelings might perhaps be guessed now, for he looks also slightly embarrassed, lips pressing together. He hunches forward a little more, lightly shaking his head to himself. But at the sound of Balur clearing his throat, Frarin straightens and sits up in his chair, frowning.
Pursing his lips a little, the silversmith likewise clears his throat, awkward. "It is not needed."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari spends a moment in silence, looking from one face to another. Balur is thoughtfully looking at the table and Nalur meets Thari's glance, raising a brow of his own.
"Look," the lass says briskly. "I'm getting the sense that none of you are having proper conversations. I should've started, you were right, Frarin, and I'm not afraid to say so," she says with a nod toward the silver merchant. "Now plug your ears if you like."
She leans back and clears her own throat. "I should've said this: Papa, a well-to-do silver merchant has asked to marry me. He is strong and hardy and sensible. He is very alike to me and also very proud and private. He has defended my life, my honor, and my name many times. I've come to love him and would be very happy if we could have your blessing." There is a pregnant pause and she suddenly waggles her brows. "He is also very handsome!"
"THARI!" bellow both Balur and Nalur. Nalur picks up a bread roll and flings it at her head.
[Frarin] Frarin lifts his brows at Thari, especially when she tells him to cover his ears. But he doesn't, instead straightening still further and fixing her with a quizzical expression. His face falls and blanches as she launches into what must surely be for the near-reclusive silversmith a horrifying relation of all his qualities and actions. And when Balur and Nalur bellow at her, Frarin only rolls his eyes in embarrassment. But he does give a very small smile as he looks away to the wall.
He clears his throat as if feeling he ought to say something as well. His lips part a few times, but all he says at last is, "Thank you, Thari. I too would like your blessing, Master Balur." As if that needs stating. But, perhaps it does.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari laughs as the bread bounces off of the side of her head with a shower of crumbs and lands in the carpet.
"I've only asked for a bit of time, which is not unreasonable!" Balur protests, spreading his hands. "But it's bloody hard to even think straight when people come to me telling me this lad here is beating on family and seducing you in dark corners, especially with him leaving so soon!"
"Gah, what kind of roll was that, Nalur?" Thari complains in an undertone. She unwinds her hands from Frarin and is trying to brush out of her hair a multitude of crumbs.
"I only wish I had thought to put jam on it first," Nalur whispers back, smug.
[Frarin] "Ranor deserved that," Frarin says, speaking firmly at last and leaning forward in his chair. "To quote him rather precisely, he warned me against 'stealing tarts from your kitchen'." He glances at Thari and Nalur and looks mildly amused, but he looks grave of a sudden, frowning at the table before looking up to Balur.
"My leaving so soon cannot be helped, Master Balur. Three years is a great span of time to be gone, and now there is a great deal to deal with. My brother, for one. And I could not have foreseen my friend's death. Thari, I doubt, is much happy with this - no more than I - but I would hope two or three months would be time enough to reach a decision."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Of course it can't be helped, Frarin dear," Thari says while still working crumbs out of her hair. She reaches blindly for him and pats his chest.
Hawk-eyed, Balur watches the exact spot where Thari's hand touches Frarin, his face stiff. It eases into a bit of a terse smile, and polite, he echoes, "yes, of course it can't be helped. Two or three months should be enough time I should hope. And I'm going to have--" a pause where Balur's grey eyes flash, "--a bit of a chat with Ranor myself."
"Don't you worry, Frarin dear. None of you should worry." Thari brushes her hair over her shoulder again. A few crumbs fly toward Frarin. "If the worse bit that's going around is the rumor that he's been seducing me, that's not so bad. And I know!" she holds a finger up toward Balur. "It sounds bad! But it isn't, and here's why. Should you, dear Papa, decide to allow me to marry Frarin here, all of the gossip will be forgotten, because he would be seducing me then, and rightly so! Nobody would talk about behavior between husbands and wives!"
Despite Thari's matter-of-fact tone she is turning red. Nalur looks away, red as well. Balur is the same crimson hue, only he is developing a deep line between his brows and the nervous tic is back.
[Frarin] Frarin glances up at Thari as she blindly pats his chest and he seems torn between being pleased and wary. His eyes flick to Balur and he has the decency to look uncomfortable under those hawk grey eyes. As Thari starts speaking again, however, Frarin's face goes through a series of expressions. First he looks mildly justified, as if pleased for confirmation from Thari concerning her reaction to the rumours of indiscretion. But she continues and Frarin's face turns as red as the others, though not perhaps the deep crimson of Balur's.
Very abruptly he stands, forcing an urgent smile at Thari and clearing his throat. "Thari, is that...really necessary? We are not husband and wife yet, dear Thari, and musing about...what...might...come--" he seems to realise just how bad that sounds, for his speech becomes awkward and halting "--doesn't change what is now." He finishes quickly, watching Balur.
[Thari(#31038)]
"What?" protests Thari nervously as she blushes deeper. "I meant only that this is a very fleeting thing to worry about! Nothing worth even thinking about! ....oh Durin," she finishes with a groan, burying her face in her hands. "I'm an idiot."
Nalur bursts into laugher, slumping weakly in his chair, hand slapping against his knee.
"Yes." Balur clears his throat. "Well. Hrm. Be that as it.. hrm... /may/..." he pauses tugging at his beard. "Thari, lass," he says scoldingly, "I can't believe you're even /thinking/ enough to allow such words to cross your tongue!"
[Frarin] Frarin clears his throat, frowning first at Thari, then at Balur. "But they are only words, Master Balur. And the first of their like." Well, almost. But Frarin does not say that. "And it is likely only the stress of my leaving, and your need for time. To have waited a year to return home and be suddenly forced to wait even longer."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Oh Thari!" Nalur gasps in laughter. "I'm bringing up this story at every Yule! We'll be two hundred and I'll be saying, 'Gather round, children, and I'll tell you what Aunt Thari said to her own papa!'"
Thari is rubbing her red face with her hands, but does stop this long enough to scoop the offending roll off of the floor and hurl it at Nalur hard enough to make it break into two.
"It is kind of you to defend her," Balur grates out to Frarin, still watching Thari with a stern eye.
[Frarin] To defend her. Well. Whatever steps might have been taken towards winning Balur's approval seem to dissolve in that grating tone. Frarin looks as if he wishes to say something more in defense of Thari, but he settles with an unhappy frown, a little of the usual defensiveness returning. There seems only one way to dissipate the situation. "Master Balur, you have had your meeting with me. Is there anything else you wished to know before I left? I will be staying at my cousin's home in the Iron Hills. He is Bardoln son of Belndor, in the Farizhald holdings of Emyn Engrin, should you wish to write with further enquiries."
[Thari(#31038)]
"No, thank you for coming," Balur says, standing and bowing toward Frarin, his stern eye lingering still on his daughter. "I did intend for you to sup with us, but it is entirely understandable if you don't."
Thari manages to cast a sheepish glance up to Frarin and Nalur's laughter is ever-so-slowly waning.
[Frarin] Is he abandoning Thari? Or is it better that she have a chance to speak with Balur without the awkwardness of his presence? Frarin seems drawn between the two possibilities, eyes flicking between father and daughter. When he seems to come to a decision, he bows deeply. "Yes, I have much still to see to and have lingered here for quite a time already. Nalur, it was a pleasure to meet you. Master Balur, I shall visit you as soon as I return."
"And Thari..." He takes a hold of her hand and gives it a squeeze as he smiles at her. "Until we meet again, my dearest friend." With a last bow to the three, Frarin turns and leaves.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari smiles just a little, her embarrassment plain to see, but her hand is tight on Frarin's and unfolds only reluctantly. "Care for yourself well," she murmurs.
Nalur stands and bows just as Balur is nodding in reply to Frarin and seating himself. "Pleasant journey," Nalur bids Frarin politely.
Stables Under the Mountain(#11444RntU)
The sights and smells of the outside world fill this gigantic natural cavern. Along the walls are stalls with partitions made of stone, large enough for any size beast. The stalls go up the walls in tiers, each tier wide and railed and winding around and down to the central floor. Not only beasts but all manner of cart and wagon are stored here, most of these on the upper tiers. The eastern wall is dominated by hay, lots of hay. It is the kind of hay that smells so good that the stable hands can often be found on their off time just sitting and smelling it. You can see the heads of ponies, many of them stomping or snorting, over the stall doors, as well as stable hands running hither and thither, cleaning trappings, bringing out a beast for its master, feeding, scrubbing, or cleaning out the manure. The stable hands are all lads from the dale-lands, apprenticed to some dwarven master, stabling being a standard duty as no dwarf would think of harboring any beast. The lighting here is fairly dim, to keep the animals quiet, from ever-burning dwarven torches set in the walls.
Contents:
Thari
Frarin's Pack Ponies(#31047n)
Dwarven Camp
Merchant Wagon
Dwarven Battle Wagons(#2746OVXen)
Iron River Company Camp
Dwarven Caravan(#28238VeM)
Dwarven Wagon
Large Camp(#884OVXaeM)
Line of Wains(#23232QXe)
Obvious exits:
Dwarf Door (Out) leads to Western Valley.
Narrow Stairs at Top leads to First Hall, South End.
[Frarin] It is now barely five days since the caravan of dwarves to have passed all the way to Bree and back has returned and the mountain is still buzzing with news of their arrival. With the afternoon already well upon the land, places like Trader's Way or the Greathall of Thrain are busy as ever with bartering and gossip, and the taverns grasp for each new juicy piece of news from abroad. Even here in the vast cavern that is the stables of Erebor, there is a general murmur of voices among the coming and going. The lads of Dale glean what news they can from those dwarves here to look after their beasts or wagons.
One member of that ill-fated company, however, is not taking his leisure. Frarin is clad not in the garb of the road, but in a fine, if simple raiment a dark red cloak and black trousers, both clean and practical. Currently he seems to be arguing with one of the stable lads, brandishing a worn halter with a broken strap. "See here, lad," he is saying. "It wasn't broken when I returned to Erebor. It's survived three years on the road and not once broken. I don't care if it's your doing, but I want to know."
[Thari(#31038)]
Another fine-clad dwarf lingers in the archway opening of the stables, though his clothes are less simple than Frarin's. Brown hair and piercing blue eyes mark this dwarf, who speaks to a human stable-boy. This boy looks uncertain, then points at Frarin.
The newcome dwarf nods his thanks, gives the boy a shining coin, and walks toward Frarin, no hurry. He stops some short distance away and waits patiently, tucking his thumbs into his belt. He is watching Frarin and is obviously trying to discreetly wait for the silversmith to finish his argument.
[Frarin] The Dale lad looks a bit uncomfortable, hands clasped behind his back, rocking back on the balls of his feet. He is about as tall as Frarin, but somehow looks cowed by the silversmith's scolding. After a few moments, he mutters something and Frarin gives a knowing nod, straightening. "Fine then, lad. That's all I wanted to know. It needed replacing anyhow." That seems to brighten the boy up considerably, who quickly scampers off when Frarin gives him a dismissive wave.
Fiddling with the broken strap of the halter, Frarin turns and shakes his head. Only when the fine-clad dwarf enters his peripheral vision does the silversmith look up abruptly and slow before he runs into the newcomer. "Beg your pardon," he mutters, stepping to the side with the intent of moving around the other.
[Thari(#31038)]
The dwarf steps back from Frarin slightly to keep from being ran into, then bows deeply as Frarin mutters. "Frarin?" he asks, voice deep but smooth. "Forli's son, I am told?"
[Frarin] Frarin stops short at his own name and straightens a bit, lifting his brows at the unknown dwarf. He looks the other over quickly, frowning as if trying to remember if he should know this dwarf. But after a moment he turns to face him fully and returns the deep bow and responds politely. "At your service and your family's. What can I do for you?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"I am Nalur son of Balur at your service," the dwarf answers politely. It might be noted that there is very little resemblance to Thari in this brother, but one familiar to the family might also see that his eyes are exactly like Ranol's. "I had only hoped to make your aquaintance before you left."
[Frarin] Frarin's expression changes as Nalur introduces himself, but how exactly is difficult to say. There is surprise and doubt, but also a hint of wariness suggested by a short, sharp breath. But there is equally an easying of that wariness after a moment, though a certin stiffness remains. He is quiet, then frowns politely again and nods. "I am pleased to meet you, Nalur son of Balur. I leave tomorrow morning, you are lucky to have caught me, with my being all over the mountain in the past few days."
[Thari(#31038)]
Nalur smiles to Frarin, a comfortable and friendly expression. "Oh, I thought you might be here. I thought it wasn't quite fair that everyone was able to meet you but me. Can you spare an hour?" His brows lift in a small expression of hope. "For supper at the Marblehead?"
[Frarin] Frarin's brows lift still higher as Nalur continues, and he gives an odd little expression, as if snorting without actually snorting. "You mean make my acquaintance. There is only one who is unable to meet me at present." He says no more though, fiddling with the broken halter again as if toying with the idea of making an excuse to avoid supping with Nalur.
He does not, however. He looks up again and gives another polite nod, and even a small smile this time. "Of course. I have not yet eaten anyhow."
[Thari(#31038)]
Nalur's smile widens to an amused grin. "I take it you've met my brother," he says in a mirthful voice while turning and walking toward the door. "You've the wary air of a dwarf who has tangled with the infamous Olur. I thank you for taking supper with me despite that!"
[Frarin] Frarin does not return Nalur's grin, but something about his demeanor relaxes again, easing his manner slightly more. The halter is hung up on a peg next to a black pony's stall and Frarin unrolls the sleeves of his tunic, brushing a few bits of hay from his clothes. "Olur? Nay, very little in fact, though yes, I have met him. Briefly. I have met most with your father. A most...formidable dwarf."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Formidable indeed," Nalur agrees, head turned toward Frarin as he mounts the steps that lead up toward the hall and, eventually, the inn. "Thari did not preopare you for that?" There is slightly less amusement in his eyes.
[Frarin] "No, no, I was well prepared," Frarin says carefully, mounting the steps as well and watching them as he makes his way up them. He looks sidelong as Nalur, giving a wary, testing smile. "But...two formidable dwarves together, of differing opinions? There is not preparation for that."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Imagine growing up between Olur and Thari," Nalur says ruefully with a shake of the head. "Makes a lad immune to many things." He takes a glance at Frarin sidelong as he reaches the landing and turns.
Marblehead Inn(#29623RntU)
Recessed from the din of the tavern by a lengthy tunnel, the reception room for the Marblehead Inn presents quite the serene atmosphere. The rooms available to house the weary visitor, all of which are only steps from this main room, are separated into class divisions, perhaps to allow wealthier guests the rooms nearer the surface. Light provided by a narrow shaft in the ceiling, coupled with a blazing fireplace, create a homely atmosphere for visitors of the inn upon entrance. Down either hallway along the north and south walls are rows of rooms. They are made private from passers-by with curtains or a sturdy oak door depending on their rental price. Banners depicting historical events line one wall of the more lavish hallway to provide something for the wealthy to look at. Above the reception desk where the innkeeper can usually be found hangs a plaque of burnished brass, engraved in angerthas cirth that read: GLOIN Groinson, Proprietor. All folk are welcome here under Dwarven law!
Contents:
Erebor Dart(#31704L)
Aflur(#27839OM)
Obvious exits:
Ebony Doors leads to Great Stair, Upper Landing.
Hardwood Double Doors leads to Longbeard Tavern.
Pine Hall (Down) leads to Small Room, Marblehead Inn.
Cedar Hall (Up) leads to Large Room, Marblehead Inn.
Thari comes through the ebony doors from the Great Stair's Upper Landing.
Thari has arrived.
[Frarin] Frarin actually looks amused at the last from Nalur and smiles to show it, shaking his head. "I can imagine," he rumbles quietly. They push into the Marblehead Inn and Frarin says no more, still mildly wary, or at the very least stiff and only polite. Without pause, he begins to make for the double doors of the adjorning Longbeard Tavern.
[Thari(#31038)]
Nalur parts from Frarin's side to go toward a different door, a single door of oak. "No, Frarin," he murmurs. "I take my supper here." He opens it casually and pushes through.
Frarin lifts his brows at Nalur as the other makes for a single door and the silversmith's lips press together in a dry expression. He might almost seem to roll his eyes at Nalur's back, though he does not in fact roll his eyes. His look as good as says 'That's wealth for you'. He coughs slightly, then shakes his head with a shrug and follows Nalur politely. "Naturally. Your personal dining room?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"Something like that," answers Nalur. He reaches behind Frarin to shut the door.
"There you are." Balur says gruffly lowers the dome over one of the plates with a small metal sound as he looks toward the door.
"You don't mind if my father joins us, do you?" Nalur asks, his voice nearly polite still. The younger dwarf lingers near the door.
[Frarin] Frarin's steps halt just inside the door, a low, quiet breath sucked in through his nose at the sight of Balur. His lips press together in a forced smile, but there is an unmistakable knowingness in the expression as well. The silversmith seems full well to have guessed the object of the game. Frarin clears his throat quietly, then nods at Nalur, the old wariness returning despite his previous calming. "Of course not," he rumbles quietly, still standing. To Balur, Frarin offers a bow. "Master Balur."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Master Frarin," Balur says in a hard voice, his smoothness of before missing. "We need to talk. Start by telling me about Ranor. The idiot is of course lying about a lot but there are one or two grains of truth, I am certain. Tell me what they are."
Nalur wanders to the table and lifts a dome. Steam arises along with a savory scent. The younger dwarf lingers nearer to Frarin than Balur.
[Frarin] Frarin, unusually, continues to smile, but in a humourless, dry sort of way. He shakes his head as if disbelieving. "Master Balur," says the silversmith, pulling a chair back from the table, "if you wished to speak with me about your brother-in-law, I assure you you need not have sent your son under the guise of inviting me to supper."
He seats himself, but does not scoot the chair up to the table as if preparing to eat. Instead he crosses his legs and laces his fingers together in his lap. The smile fades, though Frarin does not adopt Balur's same hardness or even his usual defensiveness. Yet, at least. "Thari came to visit me," he states bluntly, pausing very briefly before continuing. "With my cousin, brother, sister-in-law, and niece all present to meet her as well."
[Thari(#31038)]
"It was not a guise," Balur snaps. "I do not wish more gossips to be wondering about you and Thari and thus wanted no one to know that we met. People are watching you, Forli's son, and every action you take reflects in some way on my daughter!"
"The pork here is rather good," Nalur interjects. He has been serving himself a plate and he now seats himself beside Frarin. "Try it."
[Frarin] That brings a frown to Frarin's face and his eyes narrow, but still that dry look remains. "Gossips, mm? And you think that your meeting me would somehow encourage them? Into thinking what? That you condone my position?" A pause, then Frarin murmurs. "Durin forbid." Speaking louder, he adds, "Master Balur, I do not much care to be the centre of anyone's attention--" there is a brief pause as if he would add something else "--but I doubt much whether Thari much cares herself. When it comes to me." Nalur is given a passing glance, but Frarin does not shift to taste the pork. He does, however, look faintly surprised as Thari's brother seats himself next to him.
[Thari(#31038)]
"They say," Balur says, placing each word carefully in its place, "that you are my daughter's lover, and it was fortunate for her that she was not heavy with child ere you crossed the High Pass." The elder trader does not sit, but stands yet across the table from Frarin.
"I was all for hitting you in the face repeatedly when I heard that one," Nalur adds in his friendly tone while cutting his meat. "But we've all calmed down a bit and thought you might want to respond."
Balur snorts, grey eyes briefly on his son.
[Frarin] Well. There it is, that familiar defensiveness settling very comfortably over Frarin's face. He still sits with legs crossed and fingers laced together, but his posture is now very stiff and forced into continued stillness. His expression, however, changes. A deep frown pulls at narrowed eyes, which flick just as suspiciously from Balur to Nalur and back.
A deep breath and Frarin's lips purse. "Perhaps you ought to speak with Thari first. She is your daughter after all. And I would be more inclined to listen to my daughter than the rubbish of idle gossipers, or indeed even the words of her no-good lover, as you see to think me."
[Thari(#31038)]
"That's not the damned /point/!" Balur slams his hands down on the tabletop and makes the cutlery rattle, though this doesn't disturb Nalur's meal. "Whether or not it is true the gossips are saying this about Thari! I refuse to believe that you have any care for her at all if you don't mind a lot of dwarves going around and saying such things about her! Now, if you want to have any hope with her at all, you are going to start being mindful of her reputation, do you understand me?"
[Frarin] Frarin's jaw tightens and his look grows grim and angry once Balur's fist slams onto the table. First he sits forward, uncrossing his legs and hands going to the arms of his chair, scowling at the elder merchant. But at Balur's order at the last, Frarin brings his own fist down on the table, rattling the dishes a second time, and stands abruptly. "I have been perfectly--" He cuts himself short, suddenly shaking his head sharp and looking at the desk, then up again.
He leans forward with that one hand upon the table, the other with the pointer finger extended, jabbing at the surface to make a point. And his tone is forced into something resembling decency. "I have been -very- mindful of Thari's honour." A pause, more quietly. "More than you would know." Then back to that angry growl. "A year it is now since Thari and I knew we wished to wed, and we have maintained her honour faithfully every single day of it. Give your daughter some bloody credit, Balur! Even if you will not me."
"We have ever been honourable, but if you think that either of us were content to spend a year in love without a moment alone, then it has been too many years since first you fell in love. What the hell do you want me to do? Remove to the Greathall of Thrain and declare to the mountain that we are not lovers? Yes, surely -that- will remove all gossip!"
[Thari(#31038)]
Nalur's knife falls clear off of his plate with the second fist pounded on the table and he sighs, laying down his fork.
Balur is silent for a while, eyes narrowed as he watches Frarin. Abruptly he pulls out a chair and seats himself in it, lacing his hands over his beard at his stomach. "Nalur, go and fetch your sister," he says abruptly. "Discreetly."
"Discreetly," echoes Nalur in an amused tone. "Naturally." He looks mournfully at his plate, then stands and exits.
"Frarin," Balur begins again in a somewhat calmer though still strained tone when the door is shut. "I would just like for you to understand that everything you do reflects on Thari. There are a lot of people who do not wish you well in this and are eager to spread rumors and hurt her. Hurt my business relations through this affair."
[Frarin] Frarin still leans over the desk as Balur directs Nalur to fetch Thari, but once the door is closed, he sits back heavily into the chair, huffing with a frown. He does not readopt his comfortable position, instead continuing to sit stiffly forward, hands on the arms of the chair. His brows remain knit together.
"Who?" he says gruffly. "Other hopeful suitors for her? Your rivals? I doubt very much whether your business would be greatly hurt by your daughter's marriage to a relatively obscure silver merchant, or even rumours of indiscretion. Even those who would avoid your business on principle could not afford to. And I ask again, what would you have me do instead? People will talk, I cannot stop up the mouths of every dwarf in Erebor."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Other dwarves who have been her suitors before and their families, yes. Rivals, yes." Balur leans forward and pours himself a cup of beer. "You need to stop behaving as if you are an obscure silver merchant, lad, because you aren't right now." He drinks quickly.
[Frarin] Frarin is breathing heavily and still scowling, but he at least seems to have calmed down a bit. He even sits back slightly in his chair. "Very well then," the silversmith says gruffly. "So you would have me change my actions to form a more reputable reputation? That I will not do, Balur. I am not overmuch interested in others poking about my affairs and I doubt whether Thari would want me to change my ways so that they are more suitable to the tastes of others."
"You are a very wealthy and influencial dwarf, Master Balur," Frarin continues, tipping his head back and lacing his fingers together. "And I imagine that I will be dealing with a certain amount of fame for the rest of my life, and if that is to be the case, then I will not live according to the wishes of others. Unless that other is Thari," he adds quietly. "Do you care more for Thari's happiness or reputation? I cannot tell as yet."
[Thari(#31038)]
Balur sets the cup down on the table again, nostrils flaring a little as he leans forward. But his voice is not raised. "Do you honestly believe that Thari would be happy if she knew that it is said she is the type of lass who will take a lover before she is married?"
The door opens to deep laughter that soon quiets. Thari enters with a sombre expression, though her eyes are dancing with some mirth. This is gone as she gasps. "Frarin!" she says in delight.
"Papa!" Balur mutters as Nalur enters.
"Papa!" Thari echoes with a laugh and goes over to kiss the elder dwarf's head. But her eyes are on Frarin.
[Frarin] "I don't think she cares as much for talk as you think she--" Frarin cuts off, abruptly straightening at the sound of the opening door. He twists a bit to see Thari and forces a smile. But it is very forced, as if at once happy to see the healer and yet so deeply unhappy with the whole situation that he wishes she were not here to witness it.
"Thari," the silversmith greets as Thari goes to her father. And after a breath's pause, for who's benefit who can say, he adds, "dear."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari straightens and walks around the table toward Frarin. "What's the matter?" she asks him, brow furrowing. Her hand goes to his shoulder as she studies his eyes with some concern. Nalur seats himself beside Frarin again but does not eat.
"Thari," Balur says in a weary tone. "You weren't actually intimate with him while you were away, were you?"
"Oh, Papa," Thari looks toward him and speaks reproachfully. "You weren't saying things like that to Frarin, were you?"
[Frarin] Frarin doesn't say anything in return to Thari's concerned question, for he looks tired and angry and every other mix of emotions. After a moment, however, his hand does go up the Thari's, covering the back of hers upon his shoulder. His lips purse angrily at Balur's question to his daughter, but the silversmith does not speak until Thari's reproachful question, and even then he speaks carefully.
"Yes, he was," Frarin says, and he sounds mildly indignant. But abruptly he follows up his almost sulky comment with something that might be unexpected. "But he was only repeating rumours, Thari. That we were lovers. Rumours no doubt arisen from our times alone."
[Thari(#31038)]
"And you told him why were were alone so much, didn't you?" Thari asks while seating herself beside Frarin. The food is looking distinctly cold. "The time in your room in Bree? You told him what you did?"
She glances aside to Balur. "No, of course we weren't. I rather hope he didn't hit you, Papa. Ranor suggested something like that and Frarin here was so cross that he hit Uncle in the head. --you didn't hit him, did you?" This last bit is an undertone aside to Frarin.
Nalur, on the other side of Frarin, bursts out with a bit of laughter and then tries to smother it with a fist.
Balur is rubbing his face. "Thari, lass, you're going to be the death of me."
[Frarin] "No, I didn't," Frarin mutters at Thari's first set of questions to him, hunching his shoulders forward in a gesture that very much conveys the stubborn message of 'And I don't intend to'. His lips press together unhappily at the mention of Ranor and Frarin does not look at Balur, but he does give Thari a look that suggests a sulkiness at being on the butt end of a joke. Nalur receives an outright glare. "No, I -didn't-," he says again, snorting.
[Thari(#31038)]
Nalur, grinning, raises his cup as if in toast to Frarin's glare."I don't see how my father is to make a sensible decision about you if you won't defend yourself," Thari says scoldingly while reaching for Frarin's hand. A smal tic spasms beneath Balur's right eye, but it is gone by the time his daughter turns her face to him again.
"The rumors started because after we'd been courting a month or so I was moved into Frarin's room for a number of weeks. This was after I was shaven-- I've told you a little about that, but not all. I was beaten near to death, limbs broken, hideously ugly, and we didn't know who did it. So the dwarves trusted no one and my dear Frarin would not let me out of his sight as he guarded me and tended to me."
The blood has drained from Balur's face and he is silent, watching his daughter. His eyes flick toward Frarin.
[Frarin] Frarin looks unhappy. Rather than appear relieved or proud or pleased, his shoulders have hunched forward and his head bowed as if somehow stubbornly displeased at Thari's bragging about him. His frown is so deep that it pulls his entire face into a grim expression. He does hold tightly to Thari's hand, but his eyes flick from Thari to Balur to Thari to the spread on the table. He says nothing.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Frarin, /dear/," Thari says worriedly and sadly upon looking at his face. Her other hand goes to cover his and her fingers squeeze tightly.
Balur's glance slides away from Frarin to the far side of the room, seeming a bit at a loss.
"Old gossip-mongers," Nalur said cheerfully. "Ranor rather took advantage of that, didn't he? Useful relation, our Ranor. Let's make him vice president of lumber operations, why don't we?"
Thari suddenly has a hard time keeping a solemn look on her face. Her lips tremble as if she would laugh. Balur smiles abruptly, too, his eyes on the table board.
[Frarin] Frarin's frown relaxes slightly at Thari's worried concern and he looks up at her, squeezing her hand as his is engulfed in both of hers. He even attempts a reassuring smile. Then, back to Balur, he clears his throat briefly and speaks quietly. "Thari is...exagerrating. Ranol looked after her as well. And...she was quite...she was still as strong as the strongest among us could have been when I found her."
He swallows at Nalur's joke about Ranor, but when he glances up at Thari and sees her trembling lip, even the barest hint of a smile works its way into his beard as well.
[Thari(#31038)]
"I was not exaggerating!" Thari protests, her hands squeezing Frarin's yet again. "I don't know why you don't want anyone to know how good you've been to me, dear, and I'll try to keep it quiet if you like, but I won't let people say rude and incorrect things about you."
She looks away and back to her father again. "When he found me I had been left in the marshes to drown. I would be dead now were it not for him."
Nalur is studying Frarin sidelong. Balur clears his throat and, as awkward as any eighty-year-old, says, "I do, it appears, owe you my thanks, Master Frarin. Please accept it."
[Frarin] Frarin looks still mildly unhappy as Thari protests and continues her praise of him, but his feelings might perhaps be guessed now, for he looks also slightly embarrassed, lips pressing together. He hunches forward a little more, lightly shaking his head to himself. But at the sound of Balur clearing his throat, Frarin straightens and sits up in his chair, frowning.
Pursing his lips a little, the silversmith likewise clears his throat, awkward. "It is not needed."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari spends a moment in silence, looking from one face to another. Balur is thoughtfully looking at the table and Nalur meets Thari's glance, raising a brow of his own.
"Look," the lass says briskly. "I'm getting the sense that none of you are having proper conversations. I should've started, you were right, Frarin, and I'm not afraid to say so," she says with a nod toward the silver merchant. "Now plug your ears if you like."
She leans back and clears her own throat. "I should've said this: Papa, a well-to-do silver merchant has asked to marry me. He is strong and hardy and sensible. He is very alike to me and also very proud and private. He has defended my life, my honor, and my name many times. I've come to love him and would be very happy if we could have your blessing." There is a pregnant pause and she suddenly waggles her brows. "He is also very handsome!"
"THARI!" bellow both Balur and Nalur. Nalur picks up a bread roll and flings it at her head.
[Frarin] Frarin lifts his brows at Thari, especially when she tells him to cover his ears. But he doesn't, instead straightening still further and fixing her with a quizzical expression. His face falls and blanches as she launches into what must surely be for the near-reclusive silversmith a horrifying relation of all his qualities and actions. And when Balur and Nalur bellow at her, Frarin only rolls his eyes in embarrassment. But he does give a very small smile as he looks away to the wall.
He clears his throat as if feeling he ought to say something as well. His lips part a few times, but all he says at last is, "Thank you, Thari. I too would like your blessing, Master Balur." As if that needs stating. But, perhaps it does.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari laughs as the bread bounces off of the side of her head with a shower of crumbs and lands in the carpet.
"I've only asked for a bit of time, which is not unreasonable!" Balur protests, spreading his hands. "But it's bloody hard to even think straight when people come to me telling me this lad here is beating on family and seducing you in dark corners, especially with him leaving so soon!"
"Gah, what kind of roll was that, Nalur?" Thari complains in an undertone. She unwinds her hands from Frarin and is trying to brush out of her hair a multitude of crumbs.
"I only wish I had thought to put jam on it first," Nalur whispers back, smug.
[Frarin] "Ranor deserved that," Frarin says, speaking firmly at last and leaning forward in his chair. "To quote him rather precisely, he warned me against 'stealing tarts from your kitchen'." He glances at Thari and Nalur and looks mildly amused, but he looks grave of a sudden, frowning at the table before looking up to Balur.
"My leaving so soon cannot be helped, Master Balur. Three years is a great span of time to be gone, and now there is a great deal to deal with. My brother, for one. And I could not have foreseen my friend's death. Thari, I doubt, is much happy with this - no more than I - but I would hope two or three months would be time enough to reach a decision."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Of course it can't be helped, Frarin dear," Thari says while still working crumbs out of her hair. She reaches blindly for him and pats his chest.
Hawk-eyed, Balur watches the exact spot where Thari's hand touches Frarin, his face stiff. It eases into a bit of a terse smile, and polite, he echoes, "yes, of course it can't be helped. Two or three months should be enough time I should hope. And I'm going to have--" a pause where Balur's grey eyes flash, "--a bit of a chat with Ranor myself."
"Don't you worry, Frarin dear. None of you should worry." Thari brushes her hair over her shoulder again. A few crumbs fly toward Frarin. "If the worse bit that's going around is the rumor that he's been seducing me, that's not so bad. And I know!" she holds a finger up toward Balur. "It sounds bad! But it isn't, and here's why. Should you, dear Papa, decide to allow me to marry Frarin here, all of the gossip will be forgotten, because he would be seducing me then, and rightly so! Nobody would talk about behavior between husbands and wives!"
Despite Thari's matter-of-fact tone she is turning red. Nalur looks away, red as well. Balur is the same crimson hue, only he is developing a deep line between his brows and the nervous tic is back.
[Frarin] Frarin glances up at Thari as she blindly pats his chest and he seems torn between being pleased and wary. His eyes flick to Balur and he has the decency to look uncomfortable under those hawk grey eyes. As Thari starts speaking again, however, Frarin's face goes through a series of expressions. First he looks mildly justified, as if pleased for confirmation from Thari concerning her reaction to the rumours of indiscretion. But she continues and Frarin's face turns as red as the others, though not perhaps the deep crimson of Balur's.
Very abruptly he stands, forcing an urgent smile at Thari and clearing his throat. "Thari, is that...really necessary? We are not husband and wife yet, dear Thari, and musing about...what...might...come--" he seems to realise just how bad that sounds, for his speech becomes awkward and halting "--doesn't change what is now." He finishes quickly, watching Balur.
[Thari(#31038)]
"What?" protests Thari nervously as she blushes deeper. "I meant only that this is a very fleeting thing to worry about! Nothing worth even thinking about! ....oh Durin," she finishes with a groan, burying her face in her hands. "I'm an idiot."
Nalur bursts into laugher, slumping weakly in his chair, hand slapping against his knee.
"Yes." Balur clears his throat. "Well. Hrm. Be that as it.. hrm... /may/..." he pauses tugging at his beard. "Thari, lass," he says scoldingly, "I can't believe you're even /thinking/ enough to allow such words to cross your tongue!"
[Frarin] Frarin clears his throat, frowning first at Thari, then at Balur. "But they are only words, Master Balur. And the first of their like." Well, almost. But Frarin does not say that. "And it is likely only the stress of my leaving, and your need for time. To have waited a year to return home and be suddenly forced to wait even longer."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Oh Thari!" Nalur gasps in laughter. "I'm bringing up this story at every Yule! We'll be two hundred and I'll be saying, 'Gather round, children, and I'll tell you what Aunt Thari said to her own papa!'"
Thari is rubbing her red face with her hands, but does stop this long enough to scoop the offending roll off of the floor and hurl it at Nalur hard enough to make it break into two.
"It is kind of you to defend her," Balur grates out to Frarin, still watching Thari with a stern eye.
[Frarin] To defend her. Well. Whatever steps might have been taken towards winning Balur's approval seem to dissolve in that grating tone. Frarin looks as if he wishes to say something more in defense of Thari, but he settles with an unhappy frown, a little of the usual defensiveness returning. There seems only one way to dissipate the situation. "Master Balur, you have had your meeting with me. Is there anything else you wished to know before I left? I will be staying at my cousin's home in the Iron Hills. He is Bardoln son of Belndor, in the Farizhald holdings of Emyn Engrin, should you wish to write with further enquiries."
[Thari(#31038)]
"No, thank you for coming," Balur says, standing and bowing toward Frarin, his stern eye lingering still on his daughter. "I did intend for you to sup with us, but it is entirely understandable if you don't."
Thari manages to cast a sheepish glance up to Frarin and Nalur's laughter is ever-so-slowly waning.
[Frarin] Is he abandoning Thari? Or is it better that she have a chance to speak with Balur without the awkwardness of his presence? Frarin seems drawn between the two possibilities, eyes flicking between father and daughter. When he seems to come to a decision, he bows deeply. "Yes, I have much still to see to and have lingered here for quite a time already. Nalur, it was a pleasure to meet you. Master Balur, I shall visit you as soon as I return."
"And Thari..." He takes a hold of her hand and gives it a squeeze as he smiles at her. "Until we meet again, my dearest friend." With a last bow to the three, Frarin turns and leaves.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari smiles just a little, her embarrassment plain to see, but her hand is tight on Frarin's and unfolds only reluctantly. "Care for yourself well," she murmurs.
Nalur stands and bows just as Balur is nodding in reply to Frarin and seating himself. "Pleasant journey," Nalur bids Frarin politely.
Players: Frarin, Balur, Thari, Nalur
Located in: Erebor
