Never Trust A Ranger

The door of room 22 on the third floor of the Prancing Pony is shut. There are no sounds from behind it, though a slim sliver of orange light flickers along the crack beneath.
This would be because Thari is currently sleeping in the nest of a bed, and the wounded dwarf has been left alone. Frarin's cot is empty.

There's a sharp knocking on the door. "Maid!" a voice calls. The room's sheets and towels need to be changed out and the place needs to be straightened, and Hazel has sent Cordelia--now that the woman has 2 working hands--to do it. So Cordelia knocks, probably not realizing this is Thari's room, as she hasn't been up to do these chores since they were both wounded.

There is a long pause. Cordelia can't see it, but several things happen. Thari awakens with a little cry, eyes going at once toward Frarin's empty cot. "Ahhh," calls the wounded dwarf as though stalling. "Who is it?"

"Maid!" Cordelia calls back impatiently, replying to the question yelled at her through the door. She doesn't know this is Thari's room--so why give an inn guest she doesn't know her name? "I've got towels. And I need to change out the garbage, sir. Can I come in?!"

"You can't come in without giving me your name first!" Thari's reply is exasperated. "Give it to me and I'll think of it!"

The early evening is a busy time in the Prancing Pony. Folk are coming and going through the hall, from or to their rooms, especially to and from dinning below. Even a few new guests arriving for the evening.�� �So one more arrival isn't much to notice. Coming up behind Cordelia, a familiar man comes to stop and stand quietly. Seeker says nothing as others move on past, leaning himself against the far wall, and watching Cordelia's back with amusement.

Given the foot traffic in the hall and the inn, Cordelia pays no notice to the man now in the hallway, likely not even noticing him. She rolls her eyes. Guests. "Cordelia, sir!" she shouts at the door.

"Cordelia?!" The guest within does not sound entirely pleased by the answer given. "Go fetch one of the dwarves to come with you, and then you might come in!"

A voice asks softly, pitched low, "Is Thari being his usual painful, annoying, self tonight, Cordelia?" There is humor in the tone as Seeker asks.

Dwarves? Cordelia closes her eyes in aggravation for a second, shaking her head and muttering to herself. "I'll.." she starts in to answer Thari, starting in mild surprise as that familiar voice speaks to her. "This is Thari's room?" she asks.

His pale grey eyes light with humor, Seeker nods to Cordelia, "Aye, it is - lest I be mistaken, that is his voice." The man steps forward and inflects his own baritone louder in volume so that the Dwarf might easily hear him, "Thari, I'm here with her. May we come in? It's Seeker."

There is a pause again, but much briefer. "Yes," calls Thari. "Please do come in.

Cordeliapitches her voice in a low whisper, though--after quickly looking up and down the hall to make sure that noone can overhear. She tilts her head at the door. "I suppose I need to face them sometimes." She speaks so low that Seeker might not even hear her. Certainly the words shouldn't carry through the door.

Reaching a hand out to the door, the tall archer pauses at Cordelia's whisper. He smiles a little, "Yes. And a little truth might not hurt too much either. After all, you didn't know what they were planning to do... and then you have now assisted to make amends. Don't be afraid." His own voice is pitched very low so not to carry.

Then, Seeker opens the door and steps aside for Cordelia to enter before himself. His bow and quiver are absent, this evening.

Thari is sitting up in bed, dressed in white healer's robes, a rediculously long and soft orange scarf covering the dwarf's face from nose to throat. Still there are puffy bright pink slashes all over the remaining face, and a few greenish shadows of bruises. Grey eyes go to Cordelia, then beyond, where steadily they lie on Seeker.

The truth? Don't be afraid? Cordelia gives Rhifaroth a wide-eyed incredulous look before she turns her face toward the door and enters as he opens it. She's carrying fresh towels and linens, using both arms, though her left is thin and pale and she noticeably favors her right. "Evening," the woman says. She takes one glance at Thari--and then her eyes go everywhere but back at the dwarf.

Entering just behind Cordelia, Seeker looks over the room for a moment before he closes the door softly behind himself. His eyes go back to Thari and stick ... upon the orange scarf. A black brow arches in silent question but for the moment, he says nothing upon it, "Good evening, Thari. I did not wish to disturb you ... not until you had some time to regain your strength. Is there anything you need?"

Thari continues watching Rhifaroth in all of this as if trying to read something in him. "Good evening to the both of you. I only wish... hmm." The dwarf throws off the blankets, revealing left arm still in a sling and right leg bulky beneath the robes. "Only that you stay as Cordelia does her work." Awkwardly Thari shifts toward the edge of the bed.

Busying herself with straightening up the room, changing out towels, picking up garbage, Cordelia just keeps her head down and hurries through her work, looking like she wants nothing more than to get out of there. She does sneak a glance once at Rhifaroth, but otherwise she is very very busy.

"As you like." is the quiet reply to Thari's request. The Dunadan leans his tall frame against the wall next to the closed door and hooks both of his thumbs loosely into his belt. He is wearing his worn grey cloak as usual, his long sword not too obvious beneath it, "You must be keeping Frarin busy. I've hardly seen him at all." a bit of a smile for Thari, though his own eyes skim over the room and idly watch Cordelia for a moment.

Returning his gaze to the injured dwarf, Seeker studies Thari for a moment before he just can't help it. He must ask, "Forgive me, but ... why -are- you wearing that scarf, Thari? Is it so bad among your folk to be beardless?" His left hand rises to skim fingers over his own smooth, hairless jaw.

Thari's breath is held as the injured leg is swung from the bed, but there is no grunt of pain. The good hand braces against the table nearby as the dwarf eases out of the bed. A quick, furtive glance is given to Cordelia, and then, "Yes." Thari's answer to Rhifaroth is thick with stiff pride and smothered shame. "It is."

There's a clattering of dishware and glasses, though no sound of shattering glass. Cordelia looks up, apologetic. "Arm is weak," she mutters to the two. Then she pauses, looking at Thari once more, but not meeting the dwarf's eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to get to your axe and help."

The man nods to Thari, sympathetic. But he smiles, "It will grow back. I do wonder though, what your folk think of us who do not choose to grow them, or can not."

Seeker's head turns as Cordelia knocks over a glass and apologizes. He watches her a moment, then his gaze slips to observe Thari - saying nothing more for the moment.

"I have never met a dwarf who chose not to grow a beard, or who could not," Thari says, low growl muffled by the scarf. "And as it grows, I will look perhaps like a Firebeard, but not a Longbeard of Durin's folk."
After this there is a little pause as Thari stands, swaying but braced against a little table beside the bed to allow Cordelia access to the linens. "It is not your fault," the dwarf tells her in a solemn if muffled voice. "I would have protected you were my wits not stolen from me by some drug."

"I'll try to be quick about it," Cordelia murmurs, her face reddening somehow at Thari's words--she won't meet the dwarf's eyes, but as she reaches across the bed to change the sheets, she gives Rhifaroth a quick, questioning look.

Amusement then, once more, "I did not mean among your folk, Thari. I meant, I wonder what your folk think of people like me, who have no beards." He makes no mention that he can not grow one, merely implies that he chooses not to.

Any hint of humor though dies at the mention of some drug. Seeker does look to Cordelia and what he reads there perhaps helps him to make up his mind. The man looks back to Thari, "To a point, it was Cordelia's fault, Thari. And I think she owes you an apology, for her part."

This is followed by a fairly stern look to the young woman.

Thari smiles for a moment at what Rhifaroth first says, but that smile quickly dies. Grey eyes shift toward Cordelia, mouth opening and shutting. "Come here," orders the dwarf in an astonished and disbelieving voice. "What does he mean? Let me look into your eyes."

By this time, Cordelia is on the other side of the bed, the linens half on. She looks up in fear, first at Rhifaroth and then at Thari. "He means I knew the woman who arranged it," she offers quickly. _Not_ moving to the dwarf's side of the bed. Another look to the Dunadan--this one along the lines of 'are you trying to get me killed.'

Seeker continues to lean against the wall with his thumbs hooked in his belt. He doesn't look amused, but neither does he look at all concerned, "Tell Thari all of it, Cordelia. He may dislike you a good deal after, but no harm will come to you from it. Then again, since you brought that woman in, the dwarves may well forgive you and then some. IF you will be honest with them." then in a softer voice the man urges the young woman, "These are good folk, Cordelia.

Thari seems to almost quiver while standing there on one leg, steely eyes on Cordelia. "Where is she?" The dwarf growls. "What is her name? I want to see her. Bitch! Does Frarin know about this?" Fingers go white where they grip the edge of the table.

There it is--trapped. Cordelia's eyes drift to the door, but Rhifaroth would likely catch her before she made it out, or track her down. And with the dwarves knowing now, it would do no good to run anyhow. Besides, she's already too far down this path to back off now."She's...dead," Cordelia answers in a voice choked with fear. "Frarin I don't think knows anything. She called herself Tamara, but likely that wasn't her name. She was from Rhiavod. As am I."

Seeker keeps both his place by the door, and his cool. The man watches both Cordelia and ... Thari. "I don't think Frarin knows yet, Thari. I have been unable to meet with him. However, Cordelia came to me and confessed her part. Said she didn't know what they had planned - and then they tried to kill her too. When you were there, and then again after they came to the Healing Houses and tried to take her life. So I told her I would help her IF she would turn on these folk and help me get to her contact - Tamara."

It's amazing how very hardeningly furious a dwarf can look despite half of the face being wrapped in a thick orange scarf. Thari hisses quick breaths in and out while staring at Cordelia with hard eyes. "What," enquires the dwarf in a crisp staccato, "was your part in it?"

It's easier to speak her mind to the Dunadan first, so Cordelia does so. "Frarin does not know. I know this because he vowed to give me a very slow and painful death if I've lied to him." She _still_ doesn't fully trust Rhifaroth in preventing this, and it shows in her eyes.

Though she hasn't witness a dwarf in full out rage or battle, Cordelia pales at Thari's tone, not meeting the dwarf's eyes. "She knew about the treasure. I was to pass on information that I heard, and that was one of the things. And then she..told me to follow you once I.." Cordelia falters here and looks at the Dunadan, probably seeing her own death in this room now, by the way she is starting to shake. "A drug in your pipeweed. Follow you and make sure you went toward the gate. Lure you out for my walk. They were supposed to question you. That's what she told me--the drug would make you sleepy and they could learn where the treasure was and take. They never said anything about...this." The last word is said with a quick glance to Thari's bandages and bruises, then her eyes drop to the floor.

The man watches Cordelia occationally, feeling some sympathy for the young girl's fear and position. But mostly, Seeker's attention is upon Thari. He adds in a low voice, once Cordelia has finished, "Thari... they have Cordelia's family. Her sisters. She did it because they threatened to harm them."

To the very frightened young woman, the Dunadan adds, voice still low, "I will speak to Frarin. I told him I would, when I knew more. I will not allow him to harm you, Cordelia. If needbe, you will leave Bree. It may be wisest in any event. Tamara's folk pledged to hunt you down, you remember."

"You condemned me to death!" Thari bellows at Cordelia. The dwarf is barely hanging on to the table, leaning toward the bed and the woman. "What lead you to believe that ANY dwarf would share such information!? After they got nothing from me-- NOTHING! -- they dumped me into the marshes with TWO broken limbs to DIE!"

Shakingly furious, Thari has no response to Seeker right now.

Whatever calming effect that the ranger's words might have had are shattered by Thari's rage. Crippled or not, the dwarf is terrifying, and Cordelia--who expected, perhaps, that her trying to follow this new path faithfully might offer some hope against the spectre of death that has been haunting her--breaks under just that one display of rage. She shrieks, the sound ear-spliiting, and makes a run for the door. Dunadan in the way be damned.

Alas, he was hoping Cordelia had enough backbone to hold up and not break, giving into panic. But she is so young. Easily, though fright must surely give her adrenilin, the man steps into the girl's path and makes a quiet, almost causual grab for Cordelia - to take her by her upper arms, mindful of her mending limb, with firm, very strong hands.

If he can, Seeker will get one arm around her to pin her close, "Cordy! Cordy, Thari is NOT going to hurt you. Keep your wits, child." Any reply to Thari will have to wait until the Dunadan is certain Cordelia will cease her struggles and quiet down enough to regain her reason.
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Almost with a chuckle, he adds softly, "You will have to expect some measure of yelling. They have that right, at least, to be angry."

"Get out!" Thari snaps next. "The both of you, out!" The furious gaze is directed perhaps to both of them, or perhaps it is only how Cordelia is so near to Seeker. "OUT OF MY ROOM!"

Again, Rhifaroth does manage to reassure Cordelia, or at least she has enough sense to recognize a losing battle. She stops trying to wriggle out of his grasp, standing still, but hissing her words as Thari roars. "Let me go..let me go, Seeker!"

For the moment, the man is the only one staying calm and cool headed. He ignores Thari's bellow and looks at Cordelia, "Where do you think you'll run to?" A logical, if pointed question. "Will you go to Elfaron's stall and wait for me?" The last is said very quietly for Cordelia's hearing only, if possible.

Thari has stopped hollering. The dwarf's strong hand slides across the table toward an unlit candlestick. White-knuckled fingers curl around it.

A quick nod given to Rhifaroth's low question to her, though Cordelia has one eye on what Thari is doing. "On my life, Seeker. Whatever is left of it," she adds grimly.

A faint tightening of his grip on Cordelia's upper arms as though in encouragement, "Good girl. You frigten too easily. Keep your wits. Go and wait for me." And then Seeker releases her to go.�� �A wary, but quiet look to Thari, and a glance at the candle stick, but the tall man says nothing. Nor does he move to go. Not yet.

Thari waits a moment more, eyes level on Rhifaroth, and when he does not move, "Rhifarath, you fool," the dwarf says in a level voice. "You are endlessly disrespectful to me and stand here watching my shame. I will not dishonor myself by asking you to leave a second time." The candlestick does not move.

s soon as Rhifaroth releases her, Cordelia nearly dives out the door, running down the hall and taking the stairs two at a time. But--she takes the stairs _up_ to the attic first, where she collects anything and everything of value--or that might condemn her. That doesn't take long, and in a few minutes she is racing down the stairs again--taking the long way so that Rhifaroth and Thari might not know she made a sidetrip to the attic. Then she's out of the inn, and racing for the stables. With luck, noone else will be there.

He is very still and quiet, watching Thari. But hearing the dwarf, the Dunadan nods, "Perhaps I am. But she is only a child, Thari. Ill used and very much afraid." a slight frown, "I am not disrespectful to you- not unless I am unknowningly. Nor do you have anything to be ashamed of, Thari."

Rhifaroth draws a slow breath, then continues in his low, quiet voice, "I will go, because you ask politely. Just remember that I wished for you to know the truth. If I meant you and yours any harm, I would not bother with this affair." and finally, as he makes to turn to the door, one hand reaching out to it, he looks back, "When you are of more stable temper, I would speak with you further, if you will. Goodnight, Thari."

Thari just stares at Rhifaroth, giving no reply at first, but as he turns away, the dwarf gives a shallow, sharp nod.

The nod is enough, and it is returned more kindly in acceptance. Then the man departs, closing the door softly behind himself.

Immediately after the door is latched shut there is a loud bang against it, and a smaller crash from elsewhere within the room. Apparently Thari was really itching to throw something.