Elendor
Dwarven Relationships
Frarin is angry at Thari because she was angry at Ranol and Siv is annoyed with all of them but then she turns her gaze on Ranol and.. Just read the log.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Londaroth
Game Date: August 23rd
IC Time: Morning
Description: [Frarin(#31050)] The morning is already humid here in the area just outside of Londaroth where the dwarves of Erebor have made their camp. But the sky is still partially cloudy and the camp's close proximity to the Riving Running has brought the relief of moisture to the air as well the ground is even damp with a very light dew. The camp itself is already well on its way to wakefulness, with the smells of breakfast and sounds of packing already heavy in the air.
Frarin is seated on an upturned pail, his leg with its broken ankle spread to one side as comfortably as possible. His tent has yet to be taken down, but he is at least enjoying a good breakfast of eggs, tomatos, and bacon, thanks to Londaroth. The fingers of his battered right arm lightly grip his plate as he eats in silence. And today he wears no head bandage, the skin of the right side of his face healed over, even if it is still a mottled collection of bruises and chain-mail patterned imprints.
Ranol has all of his own gear packed up, enjoyed a good breakfast, and now he's wandering through the camp, looking for ways to be of use as they prepare to move on. He spots Frarin sitting in front of his tent and heads his way. "Want some help with your tent? I can get it down while you're eating." He offers in a pleasant manner. Whatever was bothering him last night he seems to have left it there. It's a new day and they're almost home.
[Siv(#24218)] Siv has long since finished breakfast, packed up gear, checked ponies and generally double-checked everything that could be, or at least the things the leatherworker is responsible for. Now, wandering the camp with a mug in hand, the dwarf comes upon Ranol and Frarin. "Morning," Siv says, eyeing the two of them, considering.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin may become left-hand dominant yet, for he eats quickly despite awkwardly gripping his two-pronged fork in his left hand. He glances up at Ranol's approach, still chewing a slice of tomato, and beholds the huskarl with a wooden expression for a moment, frowning. The look is long in the face, though brief in spanse, for soon Frarin looks back down to his breakfast. "Sure, that would be fine," he rumbles off-handedly, picking at a bit of bacon.
He glances up again at Siv's voice and, although his expression is still wooden, he does offer a small, polite smile and a nod of his head to the leatherworker. "Morning, Siv. All packed up already?"
Frarin? Grumpy? That's hardly a shocker. Ranol simply nods and gets to work collapsing down the tent. Either he doesn't know why Frarin is so irritable this morning or he's deliberately ignoring it. "Good morning, Siv." He says plasantly, nodding towards her.
[Siv(#24218)] "Morning Ranol," Siv replies, eyes wandering back and forth between the other two. "All packed already, yes." Siv worries a lower lip, biting at it. "Something wrong? You both look...well..." a small laugh, "irritated."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's wagon's door opens and there is Thari, hair and beard combed to death but still wearing the same clothes as yesterday with her sling askew. She is trying to adjust it with a painful and intent look on her face. She is watching her arm and not looking at the others yet.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin, having turned his attention back to his eggs and bacon, looks up sharply at Siv's comment and frowns in a stand-offish manner. Then he shrugs abruptly and shakes his head, looking pointedly back at his breakfast. "No, I'm fine. Why should I be irritated? Nothing wrong at all." This is all grumbled into his beard as he absently fiddles with the contents of his plate.
He glances up yet again at the sound of Thari's wagon door opening, but, oddly, he does not offer his usual morning greeting. Instead, he grunts and gestures to Siv. "Siv lass, go help Thari with her sling, would you?" It is a request, but it is said with clear irritation and sounds more like an order than a request.
Ranol glances up towards Frarin, a thick brow lifted, but he's not going to give in to the silversmith's sulking. The huskarl continues working on the tent, untying the corners from the stakes and begins folding up the tarp.
[Siv(#24218)] "Oh, nothing wrong at all. Well, I'm glad to hear that," Siv answers, note of sarcasm decidedly in there. THe leatherworker then snorts as Frarin orders her about--but she turns to look toward Thari and moves that way. "Good morning. You need some help there?" That, at least, is said cheerfully and sincerely.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari gives Frarin a focused look, then looks down again as she descends. "Yes, thank you Siv. Gets itself all twisted over in the night, doesn't it? Can't wait to be home." She turns her wounded side toward Siv and again looks to Frarin, thoughtful.
"What's the matter with you?" Thari asks bluntly at last. "Are you in pain?" Her eyes linger on his head-wound. "I think maybe I ought to look at your bandages when you've finished your breakfast. And don't try to feed me some line about how nothing is wrong, my lad." She says this all comfortably and looks back to her own arm near the end.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin purses his lips at his breakfast plate as Siv's tone takes on a distinct note of sarcasm, but he does not look up again, not even when the leatherworker snorts at him. He eats on in silence, eyes flicking up to Ranol now and again, but the huskarl has the tent thoroughly under control it seems, and certainly isn't giving the silversmith the satisfaction of acknowledging Frarin's foul mood.
Only when Thari bluntly addresses him does Frarin looks up again, shaking his head with a defensive look. "What?" he says, voice rising an octave. "I'm fine, I said. Why does everyone think otherwise? Can't a dwarf eat his breakfast in piece, for Durin's sake?"
Ranol looks up at Frarin now, an innocent expression on his face as if he's shocked to learn that -he- might be disturbing the dwarf's solitude. "I'm almost finished.. Then I'll move on, cousin." He says in a calm, level manner. His eyes are the only thing that betray him, showing just a touch of amusement.
[Siv(#24218)] Siv's back is to Frarin when he speaks, so that he might not see the leatherworker roll her eyes at his words. Thari, certainly, would see it, though. "I changed his bandages the other day," Siv casually tells Thari. "He was trying to do it himself, and you were busy, so I did it instead. Figured I'd do a better job of it than he would. Washed some of the dried blood away. Don't think I did any harm." Siv shrugs. "He was in a better mood then. For some reason."
Siv fusses with Thari's sling, trying to straighten it as she speaks.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Stop it," Thari says briskly to Frarin. "Eat your breakfast in peace. I'll look at you in a moment."
Thari then spends a moment looking quietly at Siv, some odd expression on her face. This is pinched away in pain as the other lass jostles Thari's arm. "Thank you," she says gruffly, awkwardly. "I'm good enough now that I should be able to look at them myself."
Thari then affixes Frarin with a long and steady Look. Finally, she asks, "Ranol? Is our Frarin here a bear when you look after his bandages, like he is with me?"
Ranol finishes folding up the canvas and wraps the lengths of rope around it to secure it. Then he collects up the stakes and poles and bundles it all together. "Ahh.. no. Not especially." He answers, glancing between the two carefully. "But, I didn't do all that much. He was asleep usually." Then he adds quickly, "You're all set, Frarin."
[Siv(#24218)] Siv steadily returns Thari's gaze, giving the other dwarf a shrug in return, as if to say, 'what are you looking at/worrying about.' The leatherworker doesn't speak for a moment, adjust Thari's sling with more care as Thari winces. "I can help. If you like. Never got the chance to fight, was so busy doing makeshift bandaging the whole time. But Frarin, he's all yours."
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin goes back to sulking with Thari's sharp rebuke and Siv's sarcastic comment about his good mood. So beset by women, he actually nods at Ranol in an almost grateful manner, and even says gruffly, "Thank you, cousin," in reply. He makes a point of focusing very intently on his plate when Thari gives him that long Look, but looks up sharply with an irritated, exasperated expression when she address Ranol.
"Oh for Durin's sake!" he near-growls, looking between Siv and Thari. "I -am- sitting right here, you know, I can hear you talking about me, if you hadn't noticed. By the Maker, what is this, Pick on Frarin Day?" His complaints dribble off into muttering and Frarin tosses his plate to the side irritably and takes up his crutch. Ranol recieves another muttered thank you as Frarin abruptly struggles to stand. Indeed, the huskarl recieves almost none of Frarin's irritability now.
Frarin's good leg scuffs against the ground as he begins to push himself up from his seat, sparing a glare even for Siv as he does so. But he is huffing and puffing in his annoyance now, and looks positively determined to gather up the rest of his tent himself.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari snorts briefly at Siv, but then her eyes widen and she pulls away. "What are you doing?" she says, walking carefully toward the wounded silversmith. She tries to get in his way and force him to stop gathering his tent. "Come on now! You come into my wagon so I can look at you and you can have a good shout at me. That'll cheer you!"
If those two are going to have another fight, Ranol certainly isn't going to get in the way. They'll both be in the wagon and not moving around hurting themselves and that's good enough. "I'll make sure someone ties your ponies to the wagon, Frarin." He even offers helpfully. The huskarl glances at Siv and offers a small shrug.
[<#24218>] Again Siv shrugs, stepping out of the way to let Thari pass, then watching Frarin and Thari for a moment. The leatherworker moves toward Ranol. 'I'll help with the ponies, since my tasks are done and my hands are free.' Then Siv lowers her voice. "Honestly, you have to wonder sometimes if they are really in love, the way they bicker constantly. It's almost funny to watch, or it would be if their ill humor didn't impact everyone else."
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin straightens as Thari attempts to get in his way and he does his best to scowl and adopt an angry stance. But one leg and one arm useless, and the other leg precariously balancing and the other arm clutching a crutch, it is in fact rather difficult to place an angry hand on a hip or cross arms across the chest in a defensive gesture. The best that Frarin manages is the scowl.
"Despite what you may think, I do -not- in fact take any pleasure is getting angry, especially not at you. And I'm not angry!" Well, that's a blatant lie. Perhaps it is the fact that he near shouts that particular comment that gives him away. "Fordurinssake," he mutters, all one word, "I'm just packing up. I am not entirely unable to do things for myself yet."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Inside," is all Thari answers Frarin. "Get inside. If we're having a discussion, we're doing it inside, by Durin, or we'll be giving ourselves away to the townfolk! Fine, fine, you're not angry. Humor me, then!" She makes a shooing motion with her hands at him.
Ranol listens to Siv's words with a small frown, his blue eyes drifting to the two. "They're both recovering from heavy injuries and tempers are short. There is a deeper love between them that I have seen.. " He smiles softly, then adds in a wry tone. "I think they bicker because it is all they -can- do."
[<#24218>] Whatever it is that Ranol has said, Siv doesn't appear to be impressed. "And to think that for a moment, I was jealous of her." The leatherworker snorts. "What a way to be deeply in love, to harrass and bicker with and insult and snipe at the person you're mated to for life. -I- don't want that. Not for all the mithril in the world!" Is there jealousy in Siv's eyes?
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin frowns deeply at Thari and for a split second he looks as if he is going to attempt to continue picking up his things, just for the sake of being stubborn. But Thari's mention of the nearby town brings an ounce of modesty into his expression and he gives a gruff sigh, casting a look about them. Siv and Ranol, so whispering to themselves, finally draw the silversmith's attention and he frowns suspiciously, but turns obediently towards Thari's wagon. Without a word, he awkwardly begins to hop-skip up the stairs.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari follows after Frarin. Her grey eyes flash toward the whispering two and they are briefly steely as they rest upon Siv. But only briefly, for soon the wagon's door is tightly shut.
Ranol looks over at Siv again, brows furrowing in a mix of concern and surprise. He keeps his voice soft, "Is there something bothering you, cousin? I do not think it is all as bad as you see it. They have their own way of sharing their feelings.. that's all."
[Siv(#24218)] "Told you she's jealous," Siv notes, low voiced, watching Thari and Frarin enter the wagon. Does her comment carry to them? Perhaps. Then she turns back to Ranol. "Well, if that's what they want...." She smirks, glancing back to the wagon. "I just don't see it. But my father is pressuring me to marry, and I have to find someone suitable or he will likely be angry when I return. Three years, you know. It's long passed time that I settled down, he tells me. And I don't like his choices--have ressited them." Ranol then gets an appraising look.
Rather suddenly the conversation changes and Ranol now hesitating, looking between the wagon and Siv. "Ahh.. wait.. You were jealous of Thari?" Back the caravan up! Time for the huskarl to collect some details before he treads this water.
[Siv(#24218)] "No, no...Thari is jealous of me. Likely she knows about my father pressuring me to marry. And Frarin...well..." Siv shrugs. "He's not taken yet, is he now?" The leatherworker smiles, then looks over Ranol again, as if she is at a marketstall checking out produce. "But your father is Ranor...." She frowns.
"I.. don't think she's jealous of you, Siv. She's never mentioned anything to me." Sharks in the water! Ranol scrubs a hand through his hair, growing uncomfortable with how she's looking at him. "I can't say I've thought about marriage much, myself. I have too many other things I'd like to see to first." By the Maker! First Eirdis and now Siv?
The huskarl will be much happier when they're home again and he can get away from all these women that are pining for families. Siv mentions his father, and Ranol suddenly grows more defensive as his gaze turns back to her. "Aye. He is." He answers carefully.
[Siv(#24218)] It could be that Siv has no tact whatsover, but more likely the leatherworker is just used to openly and bluntly speaking her mind. "Well, your father's debt is heavy, so I don't think that my father would agree to that. But you're trustworthy and hardworking and likely to make the debt up. So I could convince him...despite our age difference." She eyes Ranol up and down, appraising again. "How many children do you want?"
Ranol stares at Siv, stunned speechless by her forward manner. Is she serious? She -sounds- serious. "I.. hadn't really thought about it, Siv." He answers slowly, looking rather suddenly like a trapped animal. "But, I should probably be getting back to work. The camp is almost packed up."
[Siv(#24218)] "Well, you /do/ want children, don't you?" The leatherworker is not about to be put off on this matter. "By Durin, I can't imagine that you don't want children. That would be...wrong." Siv scratches idly at her arm. "You must have thought about it, at your age, too. I mean, these things don't just happen on their own--you have to plan them. We could space the children apart, one every two years. That should give you enough time to earn money to support each of them. And we can apprentice them into my father's trade. But there's the whole matter of your father's debt. How do you propose to settle that? We'll have to negotiate...hmmm.."
"Well, of course I do.. someday. I figured not for some time yet, though." Ranol is losing ground, too polite to be directly rude and consequently he won't just walk away. "I haven't planned anything yet for a family.. " When she brings up Ranor again he frowns, his defenses raising. "My father's debt is my own business." His tone is quite unyeilding on -that-.
[Siv(#24218)] Siv doesn't pick up on Ranol's discomfort at all. "Well, the debt passes to the son, does it not? Or you volunteered to clear it? I mean, if if you didn't, it stains your family name," she says bluntly. "So I would think you, of all people, would want to plan in advance for such things. Children are important, no? I mean, they're not important to you? That's something I need to know now, Ranol. Before we get further involved." As if they are involved at all at this point. The leather worker takes a step toward Ranol, an uneasy distance between them now closed.
Ranol resists the screaming urge to back up when she advances. "We were talking about Thari and Frarin, were we not?" He asks, desperate to change the subject. Ohhh, where's a troll when you need one?! He runs his hand through his short black hair, still very ill at ease.
[Siv(#24218)] "Aye, we were talking about marriage. If Frarin and Thari can have that sort of arrangment, then certainly you and I coudl as well, no?" Siv asks. "It would serve well for your family, if you consider it. You gain respectability, no debt. I gain..well....children, I suppose. Hrmm...perhaps I should consider other offers, Ranol. A girl -does- have her choice these days. I hope I'm not disappointing you too badly?" Siv gives Ranol a kind look. "I know you had your heart set on it. Let's..let's just see how we get along, shall we? Perhaps you'll cook dinner for me tonight? As we've provisions now and we're safe. I'd love that, honestly. Just you and I in a quiet little dinner. So thoughtful of you, yes. Just the thing--thank you. 8 is good?"
What is happening? The huskarl blinks a few times, then shakes his head slowly. "I'm not disappointed. Why would I be?" Ranol glances around, looking for some situation, anything! Maybe a run-away pony, or dwarf on fire! "I don't know how to cook, Siv.. I don't think that would be such a good idea.."
[Siv(#24218)] "Don't worry," Siv smiles. "Frarin can teach you how to cook, or anything of the other dwarves. I'll need your help doing that--you know, taking care of babies takes up a lot of time. So I'll see you at 8 then," the leatherworker continues. "It's so kind of you to offer. This way we can get to know each other better and plan how many children to have." With a wave of her hand, Siv sets off toward her ponies and pack.
"Wait.. No.. I don't.." Ranol tries to find a polite way to interject, not sure about all of this. How do you politely refuse something like that?! Then Siv is moving away and the huskarl is left standing alone, shocked and suddenly rather terrified.
Frarin is seated on an upturned pail, his leg with its broken ankle spread to one side as comfortably as possible. His tent has yet to be taken down, but he is at least enjoying a good breakfast of eggs, tomatos, and bacon, thanks to Londaroth. The fingers of his battered right arm lightly grip his plate as he eats in silence. And today he wears no head bandage, the skin of the right side of his face healed over, even if it is still a mottled collection of bruises and chain-mail patterned imprints.
Ranol has all of his own gear packed up, enjoyed a good breakfast, and now he's wandering through the camp, looking for ways to be of use as they prepare to move on. He spots Frarin sitting in front of his tent and heads his way. "Want some help with your tent? I can get it down while you're eating." He offers in a pleasant manner. Whatever was bothering him last night he seems to have left it there. It's a new day and they're almost home.
[Siv(#24218)] Siv has long since finished breakfast, packed up gear, checked ponies and generally double-checked everything that could be, or at least the things the leatherworker is responsible for. Now, wandering the camp with a mug in hand, the dwarf comes upon Ranol and Frarin. "Morning," Siv says, eyeing the two of them, considering.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin may become left-hand dominant yet, for he eats quickly despite awkwardly gripping his two-pronged fork in his left hand. He glances up at Ranol's approach, still chewing a slice of tomato, and beholds the huskarl with a wooden expression for a moment, frowning. The look is long in the face, though brief in spanse, for soon Frarin looks back down to his breakfast. "Sure, that would be fine," he rumbles off-handedly, picking at a bit of bacon.
He glances up again at Siv's voice and, although his expression is still wooden, he does offer a small, polite smile and a nod of his head to the leatherworker. "Morning, Siv. All packed up already?"
Frarin? Grumpy? That's hardly a shocker. Ranol simply nods and gets to work collapsing down the tent. Either he doesn't know why Frarin is so irritable this morning or he's deliberately ignoring it. "Good morning, Siv." He says plasantly, nodding towards her.
[Siv(#24218)] "Morning Ranol," Siv replies, eyes wandering back and forth between the other two. "All packed already, yes." Siv worries a lower lip, biting at it. "Something wrong? You both look...well..." a small laugh, "irritated."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's wagon's door opens and there is Thari, hair and beard combed to death but still wearing the same clothes as yesterday with her sling askew. She is trying to adjust it with a painful and intent look on her face. She is watching her arm and not looking at the others yet.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin, having turned his attention back to his eggs and bacon, looks up sharply at Siv's comment and frowns in a stand-offish manner. Then he shrugs abruptly and shakes his head, looking pointedly back at his breakfast. "No, I'm fine. Why should I be irritated? Nothing wrong at all." This is all grumbled into his beard as he absently fiddles with the contents of his plate.
He glances up yet again at the sound of Thari's wagon door opening, but, oddly, he does not offer his usual morning greeting. Instead, he grunts and gestures to Siv. "Siv lass, go help Thari with her sling, would you?" It is a request, but it is said with clear irritation and sounds more like an order than a request.
Ranol glances up towards Frarin, a thick brow lifted, but he's not going to give in to the silversmith's sulking. The huskarl continues working on the tent, untying the corners from the stakes and begins folding up the tarp.
[Siv(#24218)] "Oh, nothing wrong at all. Well, I'm glad to hear that," Siv answers, note of sarcasm decidedly in there. THe leatherworker then snorts as Frarin orders her about--but she turns to look toward Thari and moves that way. "Good morning. You need some help there?" That, at least, is said cheerfully and sincerely.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari gives Frarin a focused look, then looks down again as she descends. "Yes, thank you Siv. Gets itself all twisted over in the night, doesn't it? Can't wait to be home." She turns her wounded side toward Siv and again looks to Frarin, thoughtful.
"What's the matter with you?" Thari asks bluntly at last. "Are you in pain?" Her eyes linger on his head-wound. "I think maybe I ought to look at your bandages when you've finished your breakfast. And don't try to feed me some line about how nothing is wrong, my lad." She says this all comfortably and looks back to her own arm near the end.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin purses his lips at his breakfast plate as Siv's tone takes on a distinct note of sarcasm, but he does not look up again, not even when the leatherworker snorts at him. He eats on in silence, eyes flicking up to Ranol now and again, but the huskarl has the tent thoroughly under control it seems, and certainly isn't giving the silversmith the satisfaction of acknowledging Frarin's foul mood.
Only when Thari bluntly addresses him does Frarin looks up again, shaking his head with a defensive look. "What?" he says, voice rising an octave. "I'm fine, I said. Why does everyone think otherwise? Can't a dwarf eat his breakfast in piece, for Durin's sake?"
Ranol looks up at Frarin now, an innocent expression on his face as if he's shocked to learn that -he- might be disturbing the dwarf's solitude. "I'm almost finished.. Then I'll move on, cousin." He says in a calm, level manner. His eyes are the only thing that betray him, showing just a touch of amusement.
[Siv(#24218)] Siv's back is to Frarin when he speaks, so that he might not see the leatherworker roll her eyes at his words. Thari, certainly, would see it, though. "I changed his bandages the other day," Siv casually tells Thari. "He was trying to do it himself, and you were busy, so I did it instead. Figured I'd do a better job of it than he would. Washed some of the dried blood away. Don't think I did any harm." Siv shrugs. "He was in a better mood then. For some reason."
Siv fusses with Thari's sling, trying to straighten it as she speaks.
[Thari(#31038)]
"Stop it," Thari says briskly to Frarin. "Eat your breakfast in peace. I'll look at you in a moment."
Thari then spends a moment looking quietly at Siv, some odd expression on her face. This is pinched away in pain as the other lass jostles Thari's arm. "Thank you," she says gruffly, awkwardly. "I'm good enough now that I should be able to look at them myself."
Thari then affixes Frarin with a long and steady Look. Finally, she asks, "Ranol? Is our Frarin here a bear when you look after his bandages, like he is with me?"
Ranol finishes folding up the canvas and wraps the lengths of rope around it to secure it. Then he collects up the stakes and poles and bundles it all together. "Ahh.. no. Not especially." He answers, glancing between the two carefully. "But, I didn't do all that much. He was asleep usually." Then he adds quickly, "You're all set, Frarin."
[Siv(#24218)] Siv steadily returns Thari's gaze, giving the other dwarf a shrug in return, as if to say, 'what are you looking at/worrying about.' The leatherworker doesn't speak for a moment, adjust Thari's sling with more care as Thari winces. "I can help. If you like. Never got the chance to fight, was so busy doing makeshift bandaging the whole time. But Frarin, he's all yours."
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin goes back to sulking with Thari's sharp rebuke and Siv's sarcastic comment about his good mood. So beset by women, he actually nods at Ranol in an almost grateful manner, and even says gruffly, "Thank you, cousin," in reply. He makes a point of focusing very intently on his plate when Thari gives him that long Look, but looks up sharply with an irritated, exasperated expression when she address Ranol.
"Oh for Durin's sake!" he near-growls, looking between Siv and Thari. "I -am- sitting right here, you know, I can hear you talking about me, if you hadn't noticed. By the Maker, what is this, Pick on Frarin Day?" His complaints dribble off into muttering and Frarin tosses his plate to the side irritably and takes up his crutch. Ranol recieves another muttered thank you as Frarin abruptly struggles to stand. Indeed, the huskarl recieves almost none of Frarin's irritability now.
Frarin's good leg scuffs against the ground as he begins to push himself up from his seat, sparing a glare even for Siv as he does so. But he is huffing and puffing in his annoyance now, and looks positively determined to gather up the rest of his tent himself.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari snorts briefly at Siv, but then her eyes widen and she pulls away. "What are you doing?" she says, walking carefully toward the wounded silversmith. She tries to get in his way and force him to stop gathering his tent. "Come on now! You come into my wagon so I can look at you and you can have a good shout at me. That'll cheer you!"
If those two are going to have another fight, Ranol certainly isn't going to get in the way. They'll both be in the wagon and not moving around hurting themselves and that's good enough. "I'll make sure someone ties your ponies to the wagon, Frarin." He even offers helpfully. The huskarl glances at Siv and offers a small shrug.
[<#24218>] Again Siv shrugs, stepping out of the way to let Thari pass, then watching Frarin and Thari for a moment. The leatherworker moves toward Ranol. 'I'll help with the ponies, since my tasks are done and my hands are free.' Then Siv lowers her voice. "Honestly, you have to wonder sometimes if they are really in love, the way they bicker constantly. It's almost funny to watch, or it would be if their ill humor didn't impact everyone else."
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin straightens as Thari attempts to get in his way and he does his best to scowl and adopt an angry stance. But one leg and one arm useless, and the other leg precariously balancing and the other arm clutching a crutch, it is in fact rather difficult to place an angry hand on a hip or cross arms across the chest in a defensive gesture. The best that Frarin manages is the scowl.
"Despite what you may think, I do -not- in fact take any pleasure is getting angry, especially not at you. And I'm not angry!" Well, that's a blatant lie. Perhaps it is the fact that he near shouts that particular comment that gives him away. "Fordurinssake," he mutters, all one word, "I'm just packing up. I am not entirely unable to do things for myself yet."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Inside," is all Thari answers Frarin. "Get inside. If we're having a discussion, we're doing it inside, by Durin, or we'll be giving ourselves away to the townfolk! Fine, fine, you're not angry. Humor me, then!" She makes a shooing motion with her hands at him.
Ranol listens to Siv's words with a small frown, his blue eyes drifting to the two. "They're both recovering from heavy injuries and tempers are short. There is a deeper love between them that I have seen.. " He smiles softly, then adds in a wry tone. "I think they bicker because it is all they -can- do."
[<#24218>] Whatever it is that Ranol has said, Siv doesn't appear to be impressed. "And to think that for a moment, I was jealous of her." The leatherworker snorts. "What a way to be deeply in love, to harrass and bicker with and insult and snipe at the person you're mated to for life. -I- don't want that. Not for all the mithril in the world!" Is there jealousy in Siv's eyes?
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin frowns deeply at Thari and for a split second he looks as if he is going to attempt to continue picking up his things, just for the sake of being stubborn. But Thari's mention of the nearby town brings an ounce of modesty into his expression and he gives a gruff sigh, casting a look about them. Siv and Ranol, so whispering to themselves, finally draw the silversmith's attention and he frowns suspiciously, but turns obediently towards Thari's wagon. Without a word, he awkwardly begins to hop-skip up the stairs.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari follows after Frarin. Her grey eyes flash toward the whispering two and they are briefly steely as they rest upon Siv. But only briefly, for soon the wagon's door is tightly shut.
Ranol looks over at Siv again, brows furrowing in a mix of concern and surprise. He keeps his voice soft, "Is there something bothering you, cousin? I do not think it is all as bad as you see it. They have their own way of sharing their feelings.. that's all."
[Siv(#24218)] "Told you she's jealous," Siv notes, low voiced, watching Thari and Frarin enter the wagon. Does her comment carry to them? Perhaps. Then she turns back to Ranol. "Well, if that's what they want...." She smirks, glancing back to the wagon. "I just don't see it. But my father is pressuring me to marry, and I have to find someone suitable or he will likely be angry when I return. Three years, you know. It's long passed time that I settled down, he tells me. And I don't like his choices--have ressited them." Ranol then gets an appraising look.
Rather suddenly the conversation changes and Ranol now hesitating, looking between the wagon and Siv. "Ahh.. wait.. You were jealous of Thari?" Back the caravan up! Time for the huskarl to collect some details before he treads this water.
[Siv(#24218)] "No, no...Thari is jealous of me. Likely she knows about my father pressuring me to marry. And Frarin...well..." Siv shrugs. "He's not taken yet, is he now?" The leatherworker smiles, then looks over Ranol again, as if she is at a marketstall checking out produce. "But your father is Ranor...." She frowns.
"I.. don't think she's jealous of you, Siv. She's never mentioned anything to me." Sharks in the water! Ranol scrubs a hand through his hair, growing uncomfortable with how she's looking at him. "I can't say I've thought about marriage much, myself. I have too many other things I'd like to see to first." By the Maker! First Eirdis and now Siv?
The huskarl will be much happier when they're home again and he can get away from all these women that are pining for families. Siv mentions his father, and Ranol suddenly grows more defensive as his gaze turns back to her. "Aye. He is." He answers carefully.
[Siv(#24218)] It could be that Siv has no tact whatsover, but more likely the leatherworker is just used to openly and bluntly speaking her mind. "Well, your father's debt is heavy, so I don't think that my father would agree to that. But you're trustworthy and hardworking and likely to make the debt up. So I could convince him...despite our age difference." She eyes Ranol up and down, appraising again. "How many children do you want?"
Ranol stares at Siv, stunned speechless by her forward manner. Is she serious? She -sounds- serious. "I.. hadn't really thought about it, Siv." He answers slowly, looking rather suddenly like a trapped animal. "But, I should probably be getting back to work. The camp is almost packed up."
[Siv(#24218)] "Well, you /do/ want children, don't you?" The leatherworker is not about to be put off on this matter. "By Durin, I can't imagine that you don't want children. That would be...wrong." Siv scratches idly at her arm. "You must have thought about it, at your age, too. I mean, these things don't just happen on their own--you have to plan them. We could space the children apart, one every two years. That should give you enough time to earn money to support each of them. And we can apprentice them into my father's trade. But there's the whole matter of your father's debt. How do you propose to settle that? We'll have to negotiate...hmmm.."
"Well, of course I do.. someday. I figured not for some time yet, though." Ranol is losing ground, too polite to be directly rude and consequently he won't just walk away. "I haven't planned anything yet for a family.. " When she brings up Ranor again he frowns, his defenses raising. "My father's debt is my own business." His tone is quite unyeilding on -that-.
[Siv(#24218)] Siv doesn't pick up on Ranol's discomfort at all. "Well, the debt passes to the son, does it not? Or you volunteered to clear it? I mean, if if you didn't, it stains your family name," she says bluntly. "So I would think you, of all people, would want to plan in advance for such things. Children are important, no? I mean, they're not important to you? That's something I need to know now, Ranol. Before we get further involved." As if they are involved at all at this point. The leather worker takes a step toward Ranol, an uneasy distance between them now closed.
Ranol resists the screaming urge to back up when she advances. "We were talking about Thari and Frarin, were we not?" He asks, desperate to change the subject. Ohhh, where's a troll when you need one?! He runs his hand through his short black hair, still very ill at ease.
[Siv(#24218)] "Aye, we were talking about marriage. If Frarin and Thari can have that sort of arrangment, then certainly you and I coudl as well, no?" Siv asks. "It would serve well for your family, if you consider it. You gain respectability, no debt. I gain..well....children, I suppose. Hrmm...perhaps I should consider other offers, Ranol. A girl -does- have her choice these days. I hope I'm not disappointing you too badly?" Siv gives Ranol a kind look. "I know you had your heart set on it. Let's..let's just see how we get along, shall we? Perhaps you'll cook dinner for me tonight? As we've provisions now and we're safe. I'd love that, honestly. Just you and I in a quiet little dinner. So thoughtful of you, yes. Just the thing--thank you. 8 is good?"
What is happening? The huskarl blinks a few times, then shakes his head slowly. "I'm not disappointed. Why would I be?" Ranol glances around, looking for some situation, anything! Maybe a run-away pony, or dwarf on fire! "I don't know how to cook, Siv.. I don't think that would be such a good idea.."
[Siv(#24218)] "Don't worry," Siv smiles. "Frarin can teach you how to cook, or anything of the other dwarves. I'll need your help doing that--you know, taking care of babies takes up a lot of time. So I'll see you at 8 then," the leatherworker continues. "It's so kind of you to offer. This way we can get to know each other better and plan how many children to have." With a wave of her hand, Siv sets off toward her ponies and pack.
"Wait.. No.. I don't.." Ranol tries to find a polite way to interject, not sure about all of this. How do you politely refuse something like that?! Then Siv is moving away and the huskarl is left standing alone, shocked and suddenly rather terrified.
Players: Ranol, Frarin, Thari, Siv
Located in: Erebor
