Elendor
Sleaze
NOTE: This is a FlashForward scene. Thari sneaks off to visit Frarin against Balur's wishes, but her uncle sees her and follows.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Halls of Clan Barazin
Description: [Frarin(#31050)] The Greathall of Thorin Oakenshield is busy this morning, the day after Frarin's visit to the Bundazanul Thingstead. It is bustling with the business of the day and is all painted in a pale, luminous blue as the crystal lamps reflect off of the blue crystal ceiling above. Aside from the crowds there is one of the many long tunnels that lead off of the Barazin Thingstead, this one sloping very sharply downward, but then leveling off.
It leads on for some time, splitting at a fork once and descending down a set of narrow steps. Even it begins to pass sparsely placed doors at various intervals until one door in particular in reached. The wood of the door is heavy and dark, with two runes inscribed into the front, one for the letter F, the other for G.
[Thari(#31038)]
A lady with golden-red hair walks walks briskly through the crowd. Thari doesn't return any of the glances she earns-- and she earns more than a few, for her dark blue dress is clearly of fine make, discreet sapphires in her hair, yet it is just as clear that she is not a Longbeard of Durin's line, not with a short beard like that, and few of the other dwarven lines reside in the Lonely Mountain, let alone attain enough wealth to look like that. Yet she does, and haughtily it seems she ignores everyone.
Eventually the crowds dwindle as she passes beyond them. She descends into a sloping tunnel and chooses one direction when the tunnel forks. A few minutes later she returns, looking a touch more cross, and travels down the other direction instead. Eventually the door with the F and G runes appears before her and she knocks, rather insistantly, looking all cross and out of sorts.
Another heads in the same direction, an older dwarf that bears some resemblance to Thari. He follows through the crowds, blending in more easily in worn clothes of far simpler make. He follows her carefully, sticking well back, though it seems the young maid with her nose in the air is paying little attention to anything but her destination. The only risk at all is when she doubles back. Then her shadow quickly moves to the stoop of a home, as if he was meant to travel there the entire time.
[Frarin(#31050)] The door is a sturdy one, but it is not so thick as to keep raised voices from coming through it. And behind it are coming now several voices, indeed quite a few. One is decidedly laid back in tone, another tense. One voice is a familiar rumbling grumble, another concerned and slightly higher pitched. There seems to be a discussion, rather heated, going on behind the door, and it does not stop until Thari's insistant knocking starts up. Then the voices abruptly stop.
There is a scuffling, some scraping chairs, and suddenly the door opens inward. There is an dwarf with a dark reddish-brown brown standing there, older, perhaps near 200, and with a unique scar running from his brow to his cheek. Indeed, his left eye has that vacant look of a glass eye. There is movement behind him. He lifts his brows at Thari, then says in a laid-back, kindly sort of voice, "Yes? Can I help you?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari fidgets outside of the door as the voices argue within, still looking as impatient as ever. Her chin lifts when the door begins to open, and then she appears rather taken aback at the older dwarf who greets her.
"Ah, em, Frarin, son of Forli, if he is at home," says the lass. This greeting seems to be replayed through her head and found unsatisfactory, so she tacks on a, "Please." Her hands clasp, then unclasp.
This dwarf with hair and beard the color of hay slows when Thari finds the door she seeks. He eases behind a decorative column, listening intently. Ranor had never planned such an outing, but when he saw his dear sweet niece heading towards Barazin's halls, he could only wonder what business venture Balur is up to now. Ever looking for an edge, or a way to make a quick coin, the woodcrafter decided to follow her.
[Frarin(#31050)] The older dwarf looks interested suddenly as Thari asks for Frarin, but he does not have a chance to reply, for suddenly there is the silver merchant himself, having heard Thari's greeting and come straight forward. "Thari!" he says, clearly pleased and urging the other dwarf out of the way. He is coming forward with arms outstretched, relieved. "By the Maker! Your father let you come?"
Frarin is in the doorway, but there are others now visible behind him. Aside from the older dwarf with the glass eye, there is a shorter man with a light green tunic and light brown beard, a woman with a dull red beard, and a young lass with a beard of dark brown, likely no more than forty years old. Mutters break out behind Frarin.
"Who is it?"
"Thari, isn't it? It has to be."
"Who's that?"
"That's your uncle's lady friend, dear."
"Oh!"
Only the dwarf with the glass eye is silent, arms crossed over his chest, a bemused smile creeping beneath his beard.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's brief awkwardness is gone in a snap as Frarin appears before her obviously delighted eyes. "No!" She steps forward and slides her arms tightly about his chest right in front of his whole family, her stiff skirt pressing into his legs. Her voice becomes slightly muffled as she sets her head against his shoulder. "Nalur's going to be skinned for this later, but more's the pity that it's not Olur instead!"
Shifty blue eyes study nothing in particular as Ranor absently pulls out a carved wooden pipe, looking as if he's merely stopping for a smoke. He listens intently, though. His eyebrows lift in surprise at the words that drift over. Lady friend? Thari and a -Barazin-??
Ranor risks stealing a glance over at the abode. It's not much to look at, at least when compared to Balur's own household. He chews thoughtfully on the end of his pipe as he watches from the shadow of the pillar. Business sense Ranor may lack, and his gambling luck is atrocious, but what's happening here is so plainly obvious in the few things he's overheard.
An idea brews almost immediately, devious in nature. Surely Balur will be pleased to hear that his daughter is sneaking off to see some lover.. pleased enough to offer some kind of reward.
As Ranor steps out from behind the pillar he approaches the open door way with a charming smile, "Goodness, niece.. What brings you to this side of the mountain?"
[Frarin(#31050)] "He doesn't?" Frarin says, both surprised and proud as he hugs Thari close. The dwarf who answered the door is still smiling in an amused sort of way, but the other three, assembling standing around a table as if having stood, turn away so as not to stare. The room that the front door opens into is a large one, carved out of a light stone and spread with tapestries and rugs. Numerous doorways and a few corridors open off of it. It is a wealthy home, but it lacks the richness of Thari's own.
"Durin, Thari, sneaking off against your father's wishes? He wasn't pleased with me, let me tell you." Frarin is still hugged Thari when the dwarf with the glass eye steps up and discreetly touches Frarin's shoulder. "Frarin, let's not stand out here like this, shall--" But he cuts off abruptly, for suddenly there is another outside the door, this one addressing Thari. Frarin looks suddenly suspicious.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's head lifts as Frarin's shoulder is touched, but she doesn't release him as a voice is heard. In fact, it might be noted that for a moment she tightens her hold on the silversmith before she looks over her shoulder. And then it must be noticed that she groans.
The lass turns to face Ranor, holding Frarin's arm instead. "Oh, uncle, can't I tell you tomorrow? Or later today? Just go--" She cuts herself off witha small sound of frustration.
"Frarin dear I'd like you to meet my uncle, Ranor the son of Dwanor." The sentence is run all together, obviously without a thought of how she must look to Frarin's family.
Ranor runs a hand through his greasy hair, a habit strikingly similar to the one that Ranol has. Then the dwarf lets the hand drop and executes a formal bow. "A pleasure to meet you all." He says in a smooth, polite tone. He straightens and shifts his attention back towards Thari, "I was on my way back from dropping off a commission when I thought I saw you, and sure enough.. here you are. I would be happy to escort you back to your home, my dear."
There is a strong resemblance between father and son, but most notable are the eyes. The same color of blue and the same sharp intelligence behind them. If only Ranor could use his wit for -good-.. Alas, wisdom and intelligence are not always hand in hand.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin is frowning at Ranor, especially when Thari introduces him. "Ahh," he says stiffly. "So this is Ranol's father? Yes indeed, Master Ranor, I have heard quite a bit about you." The three dwarves deeper into the home are now looking towards the door curiously, but it is Frarin and the dwarf with the glass eye who are eyeing Ranor with suspicion.
"But as you can see," Frarin continues, "Thari has only just arrived, as I'm sure you have noticed, having followed her. Frarin son of Forli, at your service. I assure you, you need not worry. When our business is concluded, myself and my cousin here will be only too happy to escort Thari home."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Or I could also escort myself home, if you consider that there are indeed very few goblins or dragons beneath this mountain anymore," Thari adds in an eager rush. "So I thank you, dear uncle, and do hope to see you again soon, but I will not be requiring your services at this moment. Good day!" She steps forward, one hand still on Frarin's arm, and reaches for the front door as if to swing it shut.
Ranor gives Frarin a shrewd gaze, "A bit about me? It seems there is something to be learned of yourself, as well, Frarin." But the woodcarver isn't going to pick that battle, here in the halls of Barazin. No, he looks back to his niece, even going so far as to quickly reach to rest a hand upon her shoulder. "What -will- your father say? Sneaking off like this when he has such a reputation to worry for. I cannot in good conscience leave you knowing that you're acting against your father's wishes." He shakes his head. "No. I simply cannot. Please, niece, don't force me to the bearer of bad news for your father."
[Frarin(#31050)] It is quite possible that even Braldor has not earned the withering scowl that Frarin now gives Ranor. The old gambler's meaning is hardly concealed. He draws a deep breath. Suddenly the dwarf with the glass eye is stepping forward, gently touching Thari's forearm. "Thari, isn't it? I am Formin son of Forlin, it is a pleasure to meet! Now, I don't believe you've seen my home before, have you? Well, allow me to show you around. Frarin? Could you be good enough to get the door?"
Frarin is more than good enough. He lets go of Thari and takes a step towards Ranor and his voice is very low indeed, dangerously so. He jabs a finger at Ranor's chest. "Go home, son of Dwanor. Your brother-in-law doesn't respect you enough to believe you." Is he bluffing? "You be the bearer of bad news then, and you tell him how I am corrupting Thari by inviting her to a secret meeting with my entire family, and how she had to pass every Barazin in Erebor to reach it. I am sure he will be grateful that he has reputable family members looking after his own reputation."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari seems to shrink just slightly with Ranor's hand on her shoulder, and her eyes go a bit wild, just as Frarin beside her takes a sharp breath. Before she can say anything, however, a different hand is on her arm and her eyes turn toward Formin.
"I... yes," she says, thoughts obviously scattered. She backs away from Ranor, away from Frarin, further into the home, and gives a bit of a wobbly smile to Formin. "Thank you. Thari, daughter of Balur, at your service and your family's." A furtive glance lingers on Ranor.
Ranor narrows his gaze, blue eyes getting a dangerous glint as he examines Frarin. "Those are bold words, Frarin. Very bold. I might have been willing to let all of this slide if Thari agreed to come along.. But perhaps I see why her father forbids her to see you." He lifts his voice into a more demanding tone. "Niece. I insist you come with me this instant."
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin scowls at the older dwarf, dark eyes meeting those piercing blue ones and narrowed just as dangerously. "She isn't yours to command," the silversmith growls, glaring at Ranor. But suddenly there is another voice behind Frarin. "Frarin." It is not Formin, but the other male dwarf, dressed in pale green and sporting a light brown beard. He is looking at Frarin with an unhappy, mildly disapproving look.
The silversmith glances briefly over his shoulder, then takes a step back. "Go home, Ranor," he growls again, and moves abruptly to shut the door in the old gambler's face.
Meanwhile, within, Formin is acting as if nothing at all extraordinary is happening at his very door. "And a fine thing it is to meet you, daughter of Balur. If it is possible, you are even more beautiful than Frarin described you. And trust you me, he has had quite a lot to say of you too. Poor fellow wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, and I hardly think I need say that is rather unusual for our Frarin."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's grey eyes briefly go to the brown-bearded dwarf when he speaks Frarin's name. Her expression is unreadable, slightly cool-- it is reminiscent of her father, for those who know him. She refuses to look at Ranor, but something in her stance eases as the door is shut.
Formin, however, commands the lion share of her attention as he begins to speak. Thari flushes as she does, the darkening of her skin making the myriad of small white scars stand out starkly on her face. She begins to smile a bit, almost sly as she asks eagerly, amusedly, "What else did he say of me?"
Ranor sees that door closing and he springs forward quickly, reaching to catch it before it shuts. He wraps his hand around the edge and says in a startingly sweet tone. "So, if I'm to understand this correctly, you're going directly against Balur's word, my dear?" He can't see her, but he can hear her voice and she's still near. "I truly hope he is in a pleasant mood when I speak with him of this. I'm sorry to be forced into this position."
[Frarin(#31050)] When Ranor springs forward to catch the door, Frarin halts his closing of it by mere instinct alone, habit bidding him to keep the door from catching the older dwarf's fingers in the door. But as Ranor's tone fair drips with sweetness, the silversmith scowls in disgust, looking down at the one hand to have made it through the door and into the home. "Get the hell out of my home!" Frarin growls.
He jerks the door open again, but only so as to allow himself to fill the doorway again and this time he shoves both hands hard at Ranor to force the old gambler back. The dwarf with the light brown beard looks wary and he takes a step towards Frarin, and even Formin turns to the side to look at his cousin.
And yet, though his eyes flick from Frarin to Ranor, Formin continues talking in that casual, almost cheerful tone. "Oh ho, why he's quite adament about how very stubborn you are, my dear. Do you know, I believe you are the first person to have bested my good cousin in an argument. Why, he went on and on about how stubborn and hard to live with you are, then by Durin, he turns around and tells me he wants to marry you. Have you ever heard of such a thing?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"I'm /not/ going against my father's word!" Thari suddenly turns her face from Formin to interject this toward the door. "Frarin was not seek me out and he hasn't! My brothers were to keep me chaperoned and they haven't managed it! My father gave /me/ no directions! Mind your own business!"
She takes a small step back again as Frarin shoves at Ranor, backing toward the rest of the silversmith's family. She looks a little stressed over the eyes but works to collect herself while passing a hand over her brow. "/That/ is what he said about me?" she answers with an incredulous little laugh.
Ranor's fingers almost get crushed, but Frarin is quick enough to prevent that fate. He begins to snicker at the silversmith's reaction, that is until the straw-haired woodcarver is shoved back rather hard by the younger dwarf. He stumbles back a step, surprised. Then the smirk returns. He glances at Thari, but addresses Frarin, "We shall have to see what Balur has to say about you stealing tarts from his kitchen.." He begins to slink away then, wary of getting further physical harrassment from the Barazin family.
[Frarin(#31050)] The word 'tarts' brings a change over the whole of the family gathered. The three as yet unintroduced dwarves behind Frarin all make little snorts of disbelief, Formin looks suddenly very serious and makes for the door, and Frarin, ah Frarin. The silversmith's jaw actually drops in disbelief. And this man is Thari's uncle??
But Frarin has no words for Ranor this time. He is deadly still for a moment, then seems snapped into action as the old gambler turns to slink away. With a growl in the back of his throat, Frarin crosses the corridor after Ranor. His family moves as one behind him, suddenly pressing towards the door, but there is not time to stop the silver merchant before his right fist swings out for the side of Ranor's head.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari turns an even deeper shade of red at Ranor's comment, turning toward the door. But then Frarin crosses through and Thari stops. She takes a great studdering gasp and claps both hands over her mouth, eyes gone wide.
The gambler is about to slip away into a group heading towards the exit of the tunnel when he glances back one last time. Frarin's fist connects with his temple and Ranor staggers back into the opposite wall, hitting the stone hard. He growls in rage, "Now you attack me?! I had never realized Barazin has such reckless cur's in it's numbers!" He spits at Frarin, but makes no move to strike back. That calculating look is still in his eye.
[Frarin(#31050)] The older gambler's spittle catches Frarin just under the eye and he grimaces in disgust, rubbing at it with the sleeve of his tunic. "Is that all, old man? I had never realised Bundazanul had such witless cowards in its numbers!" Frarin spits (figuratively) back at the gambler. "And you call yourself her uncle! You are not fit to call yourself the mud on her boots! Be gone from this place!"
Formin is already in the corridor and he grabs Frarin by the shoulder and leans in very close to the silver merchant as Frarin shakes his fist at Ranor. Whatever his cousin says to him, Frarin snorts angrily at Ranor and leaves off his brief attack. Formin is pulling him back towards the door, but the silver merchant needs no urging. He turns his back disdainfully on Ranor. It is Formin who shoots a warning glance back at the woodcarver, as if daring him to return.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's hands drop, but are still clenched around each other anxiously. "Whatever you say to him, Ranor," she calls in a high voice (for a dwarf), "Think, too-- I will tell him what names you have called me, and what you have done in his name!"
Thari moves forward again, toward Frarin, looking worriedly up at his face.
Ranor gingerly touches his fingers to the spot where Frarin decked him as if checking for blood. "We shall speak again.. " He says in a threatening tone, not smirking any longer. He tries to pick out Thari but too many others stand in front of her. He glares at them all, then moves off to return to his own clan's chambers.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin is looking at his hand and shaking it as he comes through the door again, jaw clenched tightly. As soon as he enters the house, he is descended upon by his family.
"By the Maker! Frarin, are you hurt?"
"Did he really say that? Uncle??"
"Durin, Frarin! You and that bloody temper."
"Hey hey, come off it now, let him in, you lot." That is Formin, looking over his shoulder as he closes the door and bolts it. The three others step back and give Frarin a bit of breathing room, though the young lass is oogling at him.
For his part, Frarin shakes his hand another time, then looks up and his eyes find Thari first. He gives her an apologetic smile. "Are you alright? I'm sorry, I've just made more trouble for us.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari allows his family to swarm around Frarin first, stepping back a bit but watching him anxiously. She moves forward as they move away, reaching up first to wipe at his face. "Me? He /spat/ at you! You didn't make a bit of trouble, /he/ did!"
Thari's voice is shaking just a little, but she looks down and reaches for Frarin's hand. "Let me look at that. You're not bleeding, are you? Durin, Durin, what the lot of you must think. My family isn't like that!"
[Frarin(#31050)] "No, no, I'm not bleeding," Frarin says, shaking his head. He lets Thari look at his right hand, but wipes again at his cheek with his left. "Well, I must say that I am grateful your father thinks so little of that man. Durin, how on earth Ranol turned out as well as he did, I don't know."
"Despicable, that's what it is," Formin says firmly, coming away from the door as if the issue is settled. "Nonsense, Thari my dear, I'm sure the rest of your family is by far Master Ranor's superior. Now, that is quite enough excitement for one morning! Grarin, be so good as to fetch the kettle, could you?"
The light-brown bearded dwarf nods gently and says something to the young lass. The two of them depart down one of the corridor branching off the main room.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari examines Frarin's hand but keeps her head down even when she is done, her fingers lingering on it. "Perhaps I ought to go. I'd hate to have my father come tearing down here and making another embarrassment-- though I doubt he would. He hates to create scenes."
Only Frarin would know it, but her hands are shaking on his. She abruptly steps forward and slides her arms around him again, hiding her face. Her whole body is trembling, but subtly enough that it cannot be seen.
[Frarin(#31050)] "You know, I'm feeling rather like it is time for breakfast, actually," Formin says smoothly. "Hillin, do you know, I think there is some cold pork left over from last night. Shall we fetch some?" Hillin, with the dull red beard, smiles kindly and nods with a knowing look. Formin hooks his arm into hers and the two disappear as quick as that. Quite suddenly Frarin and Thari are alone in the main front chamber.
Frarin does not even look around as Formin and Hillin exit, for he wraps his arms about Thari and hugs the healer close, as if if he grips her tightly enough, her trembling will cease. "Come, come, Thari," he rumbles very quetly, nearly whispering. "Hey now, what's this? You're shaking. It's over. That greedy bastard got what he deserved. Chin up, eh?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari doesn't lift her head at first but breathes forcefully slow as if to calm herself, her hand tightening around a fistful of his tunic. At last she raises her head so that he might look at her face, but her eyes are to the side.
"I thought I was going to cry for a moment and I couldn't let your family see that!" she whispers back, almost ruefully laughing at herself. "It's just been a lot at once, hasn't it? Finding that you must go and Father not letting me see you and now this! It's all just horribly wrong. Why can't we be married yet, so I could go with you? The timing is just hideous."
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin gives a sad smile, brushing aside a strand of Thari's short hair from her brow. "Sometimes that is the way things work out. It doesn't make it easier, but there's nothing you or me can do about it and that is some comfort." He leans forward and kisses her brow. "If we were married now, the timing would be all the more hideous, Thari. Your father would never agree to me so quickly. As it is now, I am not even sure he will agree without some work anyhow."
[Thari(#31038)]
"I am going to miss you /so much/" Thari says, a catch and a thickening in her voice as her eyes lift toward him. "And you're going to be all alone while going through such difficult things!" Now her lip is trembling and her eyes have gone liquid.
"I've never defied my father before! I mean-- well, I /have/, but I always give in to him in the end! He's rarely even given me cause, and this is all very hard, knowing that I won't give in and not knowing what he'll do."
[Frarin(#31050)] "Of course I won't be alone," Frarin says, giving a reassuring smile. "My brother will be with me, and I have family still in the Iron Hills. You need hardly worry about my being able to deal with such difficult things. Worry only for how much I will be missing you." He takes a long breath and shakes his head. "That will be hard, so long without you. But that is the way of the world sometimes, when we must give much to recieve what we want. Be a patient a little while longer, my dear Thari."
He brings her close into an embrace again, speaking quietly. "Your father is a sensible dwarf, Thari, if protective. Your staying at Erebor instead of accompanying me will speak more than words."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's arms slide up behind his neck this time. The shorter dwarf lifts to her toes, her cheek brushing against his as her eye closed. "I will be thinking of you every minute you are gone, every minute! And you will be completely calm about it as you always are!" Her voice turns teasing and suddenly she nips at his ear.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin smiles at Thari as she teases him and his eyes close as she nips at his ear. A sharp, heavy breath is expelled through his nose and his embrace tightens ever so slightly. "I will write to you," he says, voice heavy, eyes still closed. "As often as I can. And I swear that I shall return as soon as I possibly can. My friend had quite an extensive investment in the iron mines, but if I work diligently, I can see his will carried out efficiently and return here in two or three months."
The silversmith presses his cheek up against Thari's, his beard rubbing against hers. "Besides, you will have your family as well. Show your father that this is not some off-the-cuff obsession and that you know your own mind."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari pulls her head back, her hands creeping up to hold his face, eyes on his. "And we won't need to do this again," she says firmly, though there is perhaps a hint of question in her voice. "Not after we are married. This is the only time we will be parted like this. And you will be very careful with yourself to make sure that you will return to me." This last bit is said in a very crisp fashion, as if she were giving him an order.
[Frarin(#31050)] "Yes ma'am," Frarin says with mock solemnity, nodding at Thari. "After we are married, we may travel wherever we so wish, whenever we so wish it. And always together. But for now, Mahal give us strength to endure this. Put that stubbornness I so love to good use, mm?" He hugs her again, even as the sound of a metal clinking together comes from the corridor down which Grarin and the younger dwarf disappeared some minutes ago.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's grin appears and spreads wide as he speaks of strength to endure. She pulls his face down for a kiss, firm and comfortable, and when it is done, she immediately begins scolding him. "Stubbornness! Frarin dear, you tell your family about me and the only thing you can think to mention is that I am stubborn? I'm going to go back home and take back all of the lovely things I've said of you and instead will only go on about your own bullheadedness!"
[Frarin] Frarin breathes in a deep, happy breath as Thari pulls him down and kisses him. But he pulls a face as she begins scolding. "Is that all that Formin said?" Frarin says, voice rising in mock outrage. "Don't trust that gentlemanly disposition of his, he's trouble, dear Thari. Just look at the trouble he's gotten me into already! I said more than that, on my honour!" But he is chuckling despite his words and is still smiling when Grarin and the young lass enter the room, both bearing a silver tray, one with a silver coffee pot and creamer, the other with a collection of cups for the coffee.
"Thari, I don't think I had a chance to properly introduce my family," says Frarin, releasing the healer, but keeping his arm linked with hers and holding the hand of that arm. "This is Grarin, my brother." Grarin looks up and gives Thari a kind smile, but he looks drawn and haggard, as if having slept too few hours in too many days. Yet there are prominent laugh lines about his eyes and mouth.
"A pleasure, daughter of Balur," he greets, voice cracking with lack of sleep. "My daughter, Gillin," he says, placing a hand on the young lass's shoulder. Gillin stands nearly as tall as her father, dressed in a pleasant red dress, though it is by no means as sumptuous as Thari's. She curtsies to the healer, nodding modestly.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's smile fades a bit as she turns and is introduced to Frarin's brother and niece she looks grave. Too long on the road, she forgets herself and bows deeply instead of curtsying-- very deeply indeed. If she had her proper beard it would sweep on the floor.
When she does arise, instead of a proper greeting, she watches Grarin's face and says, "I am sorry."
[Frarin] Grarin's face changes as he watches Thari gravely bow, then offer her sympathies. His dark brown eyes are similar to Frarin's, but otherwise the brother is far different from Frarin. He looks haunted, yet his face does not carry the grim shadows so common in Frarin's, and he gives Thari a faint smile, kindly and appreciative.
"Thank you," he says, nodding. "Yes, thank you. It has been...difficult, but to learn Frarin has found a happiness I did never think he would, well, that is some comfort. So I thank you."
The sound of two rumbling voices down another corridor foretell of Formin and Hillin's momentary return as well.
[Thari(#31038)]
The sympathy is clear in Thari's eyes as her brows draw together. Her fingers tighten on Frarin's. "I knew him to be a brave lad but respectful." A breath is taken before she continues, lower now and faster. "I looked for him before Frarin came to himself, I searched as I could while the men were trying to die around me. I am sorry that I did not find him. I am sorry--" but here she abruptly stops.
[Frarin] "Thari," Frarin says, slightly scoldingly, "you did all that you could, and without anyone asking you to do it." Grarin nods wearily in agreement with his brother. "I am aware of the details. That was his fate and...and now he is with our Maker." He gives again that small, appreciative smile as Formin and Hillin return. Gillin, having stood respectfully quiet at her father's side, goes to her mother and helps with the laying out of a variety of cold meats.
"And my sister-in-law, Hillin daughter of Ullin," Frarin says, nodding at the woman with the dull red beard. Hillin straightens from spreading the cold breakfast and brushes a few strands of hair from her face. She too looks tired, but there is a gentle resolve in her face as well - here is the woman who is accustomed to acting as the glue for her family. "I am pleased to meet you, Thari."
Formin, pouring coffee, looks up at the healer. "Will you join us for breakfast, Thari? Tis nothing fancy, but the company is not so very terrible, at least."
[Thari(#31038)]
"I am glad to meet all of you, and I am at your service and your family's." Thari half-bows again toward Formin. "I would love to stay for breakfast. Unless someone comes to retrieve me." Her eyes start to twinkle a little again.
[Frarin] "Of course you would!" Formin says enthusiastically, waving her over. "You are welcome to breakfast here any time you wish, my dear, even while my good cousins are gone. And if someone comes to retrieve you, we shall set Frarin upon him promptly. Good coffee is not something to be lightly wasted, after all." The family begins to pull out chairs and seat themselves and there is a general scrapping and thumping of wood on stone.
Frarin smiles at Thari and shakes his head bemusedly. "Don't let him boss you around too much while I am gone. He is the mother of this family, I swear." He pulls out a chair for Thari as the meat and a bit of bread begins to circle the table and steaming cups of rich-smelling coffee are handed out.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari chooses a chair for herself and answers, "Thank you, I will certainly come to visit if Father allows it. I'll try to be a good obedient thing while Frarin is away, if I can manage it," she grins, leaning forward to reach for something as the family breakfasts.
It leads on for some time, splitting at a fork once and descending down a set of narrow steps. Even it begins to pass sparsely placed doors at various intervals until one door in particular in reached. The wood of the door is heavy and dark, with two runes inscribed into the front, one for the letter F, the other for G.
[Thari(#31038)]
A lady with golden-red hair walks walks briskly through the crowd. Thari doesn't return any of the glances she earns-- and she earns more than a few, for her dark blue dress is clearly of fine make, discreet sapphires in her hair, yet it is just as clear that she is not a Longbeard of Durin's line, not with a short beard like that, and few of the other dwarven lines reside in the Lonely Mountain, let alone attain enough wealth to look like that. Yet she does, and haughtily it seems she ignores everyone.
Eventually the crowds dwindle as she passes beyond them. She descends into a sloping tunnel and chooses one direction when the tunnel forks. A few minutes later she returns, looking a touch more cross, and travels down the other direction instead. Eventually the door with the F and G runes appears before her and she knocks, rather insistantly, looking all cross and out of sorts.
Another heads in the same direction, an older dwarf that bears some resemblance to Thari. He follows through the crowds, blending in more easily in worn clothes of far simpler make. He follows her carefully, sticking well back, though it seems the young maid with her nose in the air is paying little attention to anything but her destination. The only risk at all is when she doubles back. Then her shadow quickly moves to the stoop of a home, as if he was meant to travel there the entire time.
[Frarin(#31050)] The door is a sturdy one, but it is not so thick as to keep raised voices from coming through it. And behind it are coming now several voices, indeed quite a few. One is decidedly laid back in tone, another tense. One voice is a familiar rumbling grumble, another concerned and slightly higher pitched. There seems to be a discussion, rather heated, going on behind the door, and it does not stop until Thari's insistant knocking starts up. Then the voices abruptly stop.
There is a scuffling, some scraping chairs, and suddenly the door opens inward. There is an dwarf with a dark reddish-brown brown standing there, older, perhaps near 200, and with a unique scar running from his brow to his cheek. Indeed, his left eye has that vacant look of a glass eye. There is movement behind him. He lifts his brows at Thari, then says in a laid-back, kindly sort of voice, "Yes? Can I help you?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari fidgets outside of the door as the voices argue within, still looking as impatient as ever. Her chin lifts when the door begins to open, and then she appears rather taken aback at the older dwarf who greets her.
"Ah, em, Frarin, son of Forli, if he is at home," says the lass. This greeting seems to be replayed through her head and found unsatisfactory, so she tacks on a, "Please." Her hands clasp, then unclasp.
This dwarf with hair and beard the color of hay slows when Thari finds the door she seeks. He eases behind a decorative column, listening intently. Ranor had never planned such an outing, but when he saw his dear sweet niece heading towards Barazin's halls, he could only wonder what business venture Balur is up to now. Ever looking for an edge, or a way to make a quick coin, the woodcrafter decided to follow her.
[Frarin(#31050)] The older dwarf looks interested suddenly as Thari asks for Frarin, but he does not have a chance to reply, for suddenly there is the silver merchant himself, having heard Thari's greeting and come straight forward. "Thari!" he says, clearly pleased and urging the other dwarf out of the way. He is coming forward with arms outstretched, relieved. "By the Maker! Your father let you come?"
Frarin is in the doorway, but there are others now visible behind him. Aside from the older dwarf with the glass eye, there is a shorter man with a light green tunic and light brown beard, a woman with a dull red beard, and a young lass with a beard of dark brown, likely no more than forty years old. Mutters break out behind Frarin.
"Who is it?"
"Thari, isn't it? It has to be."
"Who's that?"
"That's your uncle's lady friend, dear."
"Oh!"
Only the dwarf with the glass eye is silent, arms crossed over his chest, a bemused smile creeping beneath his beard.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's brief awkwardness is gone in a snap as Frarin appears before her obviously delighted eyes. "No!" She steps forward and slides her arms tightly about his chest right in front of his whole family, her stiff skirt pressing into his legs. Her voice becomes slightly muffled as she sets her head against his shoulder. "Nalur's going to be skinned for this later, but more's the pity that it's not Olur instead!"
Shifty blue eyes study nothing in particular as Ranor absently pulls out a carved wooden pipe, looking as if he's merely stopping for a smoke. He listens intently, though. His eyebrows lift in surprise at the words that drift over. Lady friend? Thari and a -Barazin-??
Ranor risks stealing a glance over at the abode. It's not much to look at, at least when compared to Balur's own household. He chews thoughtfully on the end of his pipe as he watches from the shadow of the pillar. Business sense Ranor may lack, and his gambling luck is atrocious, but what's happening here is so plainly obvious in the few things he's overheard.
An idea brews almost immediately, devious in nature. Surely Balur will be pleased to hear that his daughter is sneaking off to see some lover.. pleased enough to offer some kind of reward.
As Ranor steps out from behind the pillar he approaches the open door way with a charming smile, "Goodness, niece.. What brings you to this side of the mountain?"
[Frarin(#31050)] "He doesn't?" Frarin says, both surprised and proud as he hugs Thari close. The dwarf who answered the door is still smiling in an amused sort of way, but the other three, assembling standing around a table as if having stood, turn away so as not to stare. The room that the front door opens into is a large one, carved out of a light stone and spread with tapestries and rugs. Numerous doorways and a few corridors open off of it. It is a wealthy home, but it lacks the richness of Thari's own.
"Durin, Thari, sneaking off against your father's wishes? He wasn't pleased with me, let me tell you." Frarin is still hugged Thari when the dwarf with the glass eye steps up and discreetly touches Frarin's shoulder. "Frarin, let's not stand out here like this, shall--" But he cuts off abruptly, for suddenly there is another outside the door, this one addressing Thari. Frarin looks suddenly suspicious.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's head lifts as Frarin's shoulder is touched, but she doesn't release him as a voice is heard. In fact, it might be noted that for a moment she tightens her hold on the silversmith before she looks over her shoulder. And then it must be noticed that she groans.
The lass turns to face Ranor, holding Frarin's arm instead. "Oh, uncle, can't I tell you tomorrow? Or later today? Just go--" She cuts herself off witha small sound of frustration.
"Frarin dear I'd like you to meet my uncle, Ranor the son of Dwanor." The sentence is run all together, obviously without a thought of how she must look to Frarin's family.
Ranor runs a hand through his greasy hair, a habit strikingly similar to the one that Ranol has. Then the dwarf lets the hand drop and executes a formal bow. "A pleasure to meet you all." He says in a smooth, polite tone. He straightens and shifts his attention back towards Thari, "I was on my way back from dropping off a commission when I thought I saw you, and sure enough.. here you are. I would be happy to escort you back to your home, my dear."
There is a strong resemblance between father and son, but most notable are the eyes. The same color of blue and the same sharp intelligence behind them. If only Ranor could use his wit for -good-.. Alas, wisdom and intelligence are not always hand in hand.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin is frowning at Ranor, especially when Thari introduces him. "Ahh," he says stiffly. "So this is Ranol's father? Yes indeed, Master Ranor, I have heard quite a bit about you." The three dwarves deeper into the home are now looking towards the door curiously, but it is Frarin and the dwarf with the glass eye who are eyeing Ranor with suspicion.
"But as you can see," Frarin continues, "Thari has only just arrived, as I'm sure you have noticed, having followed her. Frarin son of Forli, at your service. I assure you, you need not worry. When our business is concluded, myself and my cousin here will be only too happy to escort Thari home."
[Thari(#31038)]
"Or I could also escort myself home, if you consider that there are indeed very few goblins or dragons beneath this mountain anymore," Thari adds in an eager rush. "So I thank you, dear uncle, and do hope to see you again soon, but I will not be requiring your services at this moment. Good day!" She steps forward, one hand still on Frarin's arm, and reaches for the front door as if to swing it shut.
Ranor gives Frarin a shrewd gaze, "A bit about me? It seems there is something to be learned of yourself, as well, Frarin." But the woodcarver isn't going to pick that battle, here in the halls of Barazin. No, he looks back to his niece, even going so far as to quickly reach to rest a hand upon her shoulder. "What -will- your father say? Sneaking off like this when he has such a reputation to worry for. I cannot in good conscience leave you knowing that you're acting against your father's wishes." He shakes his head. "No. I simply cannot. Please, niece, don't force me to the bearer of bad news for your father."
[Frarin(#31050)] It is quite possible that even Braldor has not earned the withering scowl that Frarin now gives Ranor. The old gambler's meaning is hardly concealed. He draws a deep breath. Suddenly the dwarf with the glass eye is stepping forward, gently touching Thari's forearm. "Thari, isn't it? I am Formin son of Forlin, it is a pleasure to meet! Now, I don't believe you've seen my home before, have you? Well, allow me to show you around. Frarin? Could you be good enough to get the door?"
Frarin is more than good enough. He lets go of Thari and takes a step towards Ranor and his voice is very low indeed, dangerously so. He jabs a finger at Ranor's chest. "Go home, son of Dwanor. Your brother-in-law doesn't respect you enough to believe you." Is he bluffing? "You be the bearer of bad news then, and you tell him how I am corrupting Thari by inviting her to a secret meeting with my entire family, and how she had to pass every Barazin in Erebor to reach it. I am sure he will be grateful that he has reputable family members looking after his own reputation."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari seems to shrink just slightly with Ranor's hand on her shoulder, and her eyes go a bit wild, just as Frarin beside her takes a sharp breath. Before she can say anything, however, a different hand is on her arm and her eyes turn toward Formin.
"I... yes," she says, thoughts obviously scattered. She backs away from Ranor, away from Frarin, further into the home, and gives a bit of a wobbly smile to Formin. "Thank you. Thari, daughter of Balur, at your service and your family's." A furtive glance lingers on Ranor.
Ranor narrows his gaze, blue eyes getting a dangerous glint as he examines Frarin. "Those are bold words, Frarin. Very bold. I might have been willing to let all of this slide if Thari agreed to come along.. But perhaps I see why her father forbids her to see you." He lifts his voice into a more demanding tone. "Niece. I insist you come with me this instant."
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin scowls at the older dwarf, dark eyes meeting those piercing blue ones and narrowed just as dangerously. "She isn't yours to command," the silversmith growls, glaring at Ranor. But suddenly there is another voice behind Frarin. "Frarin." It is not Formin, but the other male dwarf, dressed in pale green and sporting a light brown beard. He is looking at Frarin with an unhappy, mildly disapproving look.
The silversmith glances briefly over his shoulder, then takes a step back. "Go home, Ranor," he growls again, and moves abruptly to shut the door in the old gambler's face.
Meanwhile, within, Formin is acting as if nothing at all extraordinary is happening at his very door. "And a fine thing it is to meet you, daughter of Balur. If it is possible, you are even more beautiful than Frarin described you. And trust you me, he has had quite a lot to say of you too. Poor fellow wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, and I hardly think I need say that is rather unusual for our Frarin."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's grey eyes briefly go to the brown-bearded dwarf when he speaks Frarin's name. Her expression is unreadable, slightly cool-- it is reminiscent of her father, for those who know him. She refuses to look at Ranor, but something in her stance eases as the door is shut.
Formin, however, commands the lion share of her attention as he begins to speak. Thari flushes as she does, the darkening of her skin making the myriad of small white scars stand out starkly on her face. She begins to smile a bit, almost sly as she asks eagerly, amusedly, "What else did he say of me?"
Ranor sees that door closing and he springs forward quickly, reaching to catch it before it shuts. He wraps his hand around the edge and says in a startingly sweet tone. "So, if I'm to understand this correctly, you're going directly against Balur's word, my dear?" He can't see her, but he can hear her voice and she's still near. "I truly hope he is in a pleasant mood when I speak with him of this. I'm sorry to be forced into this position."
[Frarin(#31050)] When Ranor springs forward to catch the door, Frarin halts his closing of it by mere instinct alone, habit bidding him to keep the door from catching the older dwarf's fingers in the door. But as Ranor's tone fair drips with sweetness, the silversmith scowls in disgust, looking down at the one hand to have made it through the door and into the home. "Get the hell out of my home!" Frarin growls.
He jerks the door open again, but only so as to allow himself to fill the doorway again and this time he shoves both hands hard at Ranor to force the old gambler back. The dwarf with the light brown beard looks wary and he takes a step towards Frarin, and even Formin turns to the side to look at his cousin.
And yet, though his eyes flick from Frarin to Ranor, Formin continues talking in that casual, almost cheerful tone. "Oh ho, why he's quite adament about how very stubborn you are, my dear. Do you know, I believe you are the first person to have bested my good cousin in an argument. Why, he went on and on about how stubborn and hard to live with you are, then by Durin, he turns around and tells me he wants to marry you. Have you ever heard of such a thing?"
[Thari(#31038)]
"I'm /not/ going against my father's word!" Thari suddenly turns her face from Formin to interject this toward the door. "Frarin was not seek me out and he hasn't! My brothers were to keep me chaperoned and they haven't managed it! My father gave /me/ no directions! Mind your own business!"
She takes a small step back again as Frarin shoves at Ranor, backing toward the rest of the silversmith's family. She looks a little stressed over the eyes but works to collect herself while passing a hand over her brow. "/That/ is what he said about me?" she answers with an incredulous little laugh.
Ranor's fingers almost get crushed, but Frarin is quick enough to prevent that fate. He begins to snicker at the silversmith's reaction, that is until the straw-haired woodcarver is shoved back rather hard by the younger dwarf. He stumbles back a step, surprised. Then the smirk returns. He glances at Thari, but addresses Frarin, "We shall have to see what Balur has to say about you stealing tarts from his kitchen.." He begins to slink away then, wary of getting further physical harrassment from the Barazin family.
[Frarin(#31050)] The word 'tarts' brings a change over the whole of the family gathered. The three as yet unintroduced dwarves behind Frarin all make little snorts of disbelief, Formin looks suddenly very serious and makes for the door, and Frarin, ah Frarin. The silversmith's jaw actually drops in disbelief. And this man is Thari's uncle??
But Frarin has no words for Ranor this time. He is deadly still for a moment, then seems snapped into action as the old gambler turns to slink away. With a growl in the back of his throat, Frarin crosses the corridor after Ranor. His family moves as one behind him, suddenly pressing towards the door, but there is not time to stop the silver merchant before his right fist swings out for the side of Ranor's head.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari turns an even deeper shade of red at Ranor's comment, turning toward the door. But then Frarin crosses through and Thari stops. She takes a great studdering gasp and claps both hands over her mouth, eyes gone wide.
The gambler is about to slip away into a group heading towards the exit of the tunnel when he glances back one last time. Frarin's fist connects with his temple and Ranor staggers back into the opposite wall, hitting the stone hard. He growls in rage, "Now you attack me?! I had never realized Barazin has such reckless cur's in it's numbers!" He spits at Frarin, but makes no move to strike back. That calculating look is still in his eye.
[Frarin(#31050)] The older gambler's spittle catches Frarin just under the eye and he grimaces in disgust, rubbing at it with the sleeve of his tunic. "Is that all, old man? I had never realised Bundazanul had such witless cowards in its numbers!" Frarin spits (figuratively) back at the gambler. "And you call yourself her uncle! You are not fit to call yourself the mud on her boots! Be gone from this place!"
Formin is already in the corridor and he grabs Frarin by the shoulder and leans in very close to the silver merchant as Frarin shakes his fist at Ranor. Whatever his cousin says to him, Frarin snorts angrily at Ranor and leaves off his brief attack. Formin is pulling him back towards the door, but the silver merchant needs no urging. He turns his back disdainfully on Ranor. It is Formin who shoots a warning glance back at the woodcarver, as if daring him to return.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's hands drop, but are still clenched around each other anxiously. "Whatever you say to him, Ranor," she calls in a high voice (for a dwarf), "Think, too-- I will tell him what names you have called me, and what you have done in his name!"
Thari moves forward again, toward Frarin, looking worriedly up at his face.
Ranor gingerly touches his fingers to the spot where Frarin decked him as if checking for blood. "We shall speak again.. " He says in a threatening tone, not smirking any longer. He tries to pick out Thari but too many others stand in front of her. He glares at them all, then moves off to return to his own clan's chambers.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin is looking at his hand and shaking it as he comes through the door again, jaw clenched tightly. As soon as he enters the house, he is descended upon by his family.
"By the Maker! Frarin, are you hurt?"
"Did he really say that? Uncle??"
"Durin, Frarin! You and that bloody temper."
"Hey hey, come off it now, let him in, you lot." That is Formin, looking over his shoulder as he closes the door and bolts it. The three others step back and give Frarin a bit of breathing room, though the young lass is oogling at him.
For his part, Frarin shakes his hand another time, then looks up and his eyes find Thari first. He gives her an apologetic smile. "Are you alright? I'm sorry, I've just made more trouble for us.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari allows his family to swarm around Frarin first, stepping back a bit but watching him anxiously. She moves forward as they move away, reaching up first to wipe at his face. "Me? He /spat/ at you! You didn't make a bit of trouble, /he/ did!"
Thari's voice is shaking just a little, but she looks down and reaches for Frarin's hand. "Let me look at that. You're not bleeding, are you? Durin, Durin, what the lot of you must think. My family isn't like that!"
[Frarin(#31050)] "No, no, I'm not bleeding," Frarin says, shaking his head. He lets Thari look at his right hand, but wipes again at his cheek with his left. "Well, I must say that I am grateful your father thinks so little of that man. Durin, how on earth Ranol turned out as well as he did, I don't know."
"Despicable, that's what it is," Formin says firmly, coming away from the door as if the issue is settled. "Nonsense, Thari my dear, I'm sure the rest of your family is by far Master Ranor's superior. Now, that is quite enough excitement for one morning! Grarin, be so good as to fetch the kettle, could you?"
The light-brown bearded dwarf nods gently and says something to the young lass. The two of them depart down one of the corridor branching off the main room.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari examines Frarin's hand but keeps her head down even when she is done, her fingers lingering on it. "Perhaps I ought to go. I'd hate to have my father come tearing down here and making another embarrassment-- though I doubt he would. He hates to create scenes."
Only Frarin would know it, but her hands are shaking on his. She abruptly steps forward and slides her arms around him again, hiding her face. Her whole body is trembling, but subtly enough that it cannot be seen.
[Frarin(#31050)] "You know, I'm feeling rather like it is time for breakfast, actually," Formin says smoothly. "Hillin, do you know, I think there is some cold pork left over from last night. Shall we fetch some?" Hillin, with the dull red beard, smiles kindly and nods with a knowing look. Formin hooks his arm into hers and the two disappear as quick as that. Quite suddenly Frarin and Thari are alone in the main front chamber.
Frarin does not even look around as Formin and Hillin exit, for he wraps his arms about Thari and hugs the healer close, as if if he grips her tightly enough, her trembling will cease. "Come, come, Thari," he rumbles very quetly, nearly whispering. "Hey now, what's this? You're shaking. It's over. That greedy bastard got what he deserved. Chin up, eh?"
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari doesn't lift her head at first but breathes forcefully slow as if to calm herself, her hand tightening around a fistful of his tunic. At last she raises her head so that he might look at her face, but her eyes are to the side.
"I thought I was going to cry for a moment and I couldn't let your family see that!" she whispers back, almost ruefully laughing at herself. "It's just been a lot at once, hasn't it? Finding that you must go and Father not letting me see you and now this! It's all just horribly wrong. Why can't we be married yet, so I could go with you? The timing is just hideous."
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin gives a sad smile, brushing aside a strand of Thari's short hair from her brow. "Sometimes that is the way things work out. It doesn't make it easier, but there's nothing you or me can do about it and that is some comfort." He leans forward and kisses her brow. "If we were married now, the timing would be all the more hideous, Thari. Your father would never agree to me so quickly. As it is now, I am not even sure he will agree without some work anyhow."
[Thari(#31038)]
"I am going to miss you /so much/" Thari says, a catch and a thickening in her voice as her eyes lift toward him. "And you're going to be all alone while going through such difficult things!" Now her lip is trembling and her eyes have gone liquid.
"I've never defied my father before! I mean-- well, I /have/, but I always give in to him in the end! He's rarely even given me cause, and this is all very hard, knowing that I won't give in and not knowing what he'll do."
[Frarin(#31050)] "Of course I won't be alone," Frarin says, giving a reassuring smile. "My brother will be with me, and I have family still in the Iron Hills. You need hardly worry about my being able to deal with such difficult things. Worry only for how much I will be missing you." He takes a long breath and shakes his head. "That will be hard, so long without you. But that is the way of the world sometimes, when we must give much to recieve what we want. Be a patient a little while longer, my dear Thari."
He brings her close into an embrace again, speaking quietly. "Your father is a sensible dwarf, Thari, if protective. Your staying at Erebor instead of accompanying me will speak more than words."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's arms slide up behind his neck this time. The shorter dwarf lifts to her toes, her cheek brushing against his as her eye closed. "I will be thinking of you every minute you are gone, every minute! And you will be completely calm about it as you always are!" Her voice turns teasing and suddenly she nips at his ear.
[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin smiles at Thari as she teases him and his eyes close as she nips at his ear. A sharp, heavy breath is expelled through his nose and his embrace tightens ever so slightly. "I will write to you," he says, voice heavy, eyes still closed. "As often as I can. And I swear that I shall return as soon as I possibly can. My friend had quite an extensive investment in the iron mines, but if I work diligently, I can see his will carried out efficiently and return here in two or three months."
The silversmith presses his cheek up against Thari's, his beard rubbing against hers. "Besides, you will have your family as well. Show your father that this is not some off-the-cuff obsession and that you know your own mind."
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari pulls her head back, her hands creeping up to hold his face, eyes on his. "And we won't need to do this again," she says firmly, though there is perhaps a hint of question in her voice. "Not after we are married. This is the only time we will be parted like this. And you will be very careful with yourself to make sure that you will return to me." This last bit is said in a very crisp fashion, as if she were giving him an order.
[Frarin(#31050)] "Yes ma'am," Frarin says with mock solemnity, nodding at Thari. "After we are married, we may travel wherever we so wish, whenever we so wish it. And always together. But for now, Mahal give us strength to endure this. Put that stubbornness I so love to good use, mm?" He hugs her again, even as the sound of a metal clinking together comes from the corridor down which Grarin and the younger dwarf disappeared some minutes ago.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's grin appears and spreads wide as he speaks of strength to endure. She pulls his face down for a kiss, firm and comfortable, and when it is done, she immediately begins scolding him. "Stubbornness! Frarin dear, you tell your family about me and the only thing you can think to mention is that I am stubborn? I'm going to go back home and take back all of the lovely things I've said of you and instead will only go on about your own bullheadedness!"
[Frarin] Frarin breathes in a deep, happy breath as Thari pulls him down and kisses him. But he pulls a face as she begins scolding. "Is that all that Formin said?" Frarin says, voice rising in mock outrage. "Don't trust that gentlemanly disposition of his, he's trouble, dear Thari. Just look at the trouble he's gotten me into already! I said more than that, on my honour!" But he is chuckling despite his words and is still smiling when Grarin and the young lass enter the room, both bearing a silver tray, one with a silver coffee pot and creamer, the other with a collection of cups for the coffee.
"Thari, I don't think I had a chance to properly introduce my family," says Frarin, releasing the healer, but keeping his arm linked with hers and holding the hand of that arm. "This is Grarin, my brother." Grarin looks up and gives Thari a kind smile, but he looks drawn and haggard, as if having slept too few hours in too many days. Yet there are prominent laugh lines about his eyes and mouth.
"A pleasure, daughter of Balur," he greets, voice cracking with lack of sleep. "My daughter, Gillin," he says, placing a hand on the young lass's shoulder. Gillin stands nearly as tall as her father, dressed in a pleasant red dress, though it is by no means as sumptuous as Thari's. She curtsies to the healer, nodding modestly.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari's smile fades a bit as she turns and is introduced to Frarin's brother and niece she looks grave. Too long on the road, she forgets herself and bows deeply instead of curtsying-- very deeply indeed. If she had her proper beard it would sweep on the floor.
When she does arise, instead of a proper greeting, she watches Grarin's face and says, "I am sorry."
[Frarin] Grarin's face changes as he watches Thari gravely bow, then offer her sympathies. His dark brown eyes are similar to Frarin's, but otherwise the brother is far different from Frarin. He looks haunted, yet his face does not carry the grim shadows so common in Frarin's, and he gives Thari a faint smile, kindly and appreciative.
"Thank you," he says, nodding. "Yes, thank you. It has been...difficult, but to learn Frarin has found a happiness I did never think he would, well, that is some comfort. So I thank you."
The sound of two rumbling voices down another corridor foretell of Formin and Hillin's momentary return as well.
[Thari(#31038)]
The sympathy is clear in Thari's eyes as her brows draw together. Her fingers tighten on Frarin's. "I knew him to be a brave lad but respectful." A breath is taken before she continues, lower now and faster. "I looked for him before Frarin came to himself, I searched as I could while the men were trying to die around me. I am sorry that I did not find him. I am sorry--" but here she abruptly stops.
[Frarin] "Thari," Frarin says, slightly scoldingly, "you did all that you could, and without anyone asking you to do it." Grarin nods wearily in agreement with his brother. "I am aware of the details. That was his fate and...and now he is with our Maker." He gives again that small, appreciative smile as Formin and Hillin return. Gillin, having stood respectfully quiet at her father's side, goes to her mother and helps with the laying out of a variety of cold meats.
"And my sister-in-law, Hillin daughter of Ullin," Frarin says, nodding at the woman with the dull red beard. Hillin straightens from spreading the cold breakfast and brushes a few strands of hair from her face. She too looks tired, but there is a gentle resolve in her face as well - here is the woman who is accustomed to acting as the glue for her family. "I am pleased to meet you, Thari."
Formin, pouring coffee, looks up at the healer. "Will you join us for breakfast, Thari? Tis nothing fancy, but the company is not so very terrible, at least."
[Thari(#31038)]
"I am glad to meet all of you, and I am at your service and your family's." Thari half-bows again toward Formin. "I would love to stay for breakfast. Unless someone comes to retrieve me." Her eyes start to twinkle a little again.
[Frarin] "Of course you would!" Formin says enthusiastically, waving her over. "You are welcome to breakfast here any time you wish, my dear, even while my good cousins are gone. And if someone comes to retrieve you, we shall set Frarin upon him promptly. Good coffee is not something to be lightly wasted, after all." The family begins to pull out chairs and seat themselves and there is a general scrapping and thumping of wood on stone.
Frarin smiles at Thari and shakes his head bemusedly. "Don't let him boss you around too much while I am gone. He is the mother of this family, I swear." He pulls out a chair for Thari as the meat and a bit of bread begins to circle the table and steaming cups of rich-smelling coffee are handed out.
[Thari(#31038)]
Thari chooses a chair for herself and answers, "Thank you, I will certainly come to visit if Father allows it. I'll try to be a good obedient thing while Frarin is away, if I can manage it," she grins, leaning forward to reach for something as the family breakfasts.
Players: Frarin, Thari, Ranor
Located in: Erebor
