A Favor for an Old Friend

A basket in hand, Hildis stands with an unhappy expression creasing her forehead as she waits for someone to answer. Her fingers dance on the handle, they are doing the \"run away from Ranol shuffle\" in preparation for him answering the door. She eases the basket to the other hand to favor her recovering shoulder and sighs. Still no answer and she considers knocking again while she glances down at herself checking the shimmer of the green dress she so carefully picked out after a frustrating morning of arguing with her mother. She does not want to be here.

Hildis is probably worrying for nothing. Thari had told her that Ranol is staying elsewhere, but then again, Thari hadn\'t said for how long and it\'s been a few days. The door opens and it\'s an ugly face that greets her. Ranor\'s flesh is blue and purple, all blotchy from his bruises. His left eye is no longer swollen but the flesh is discolored all around it. His straw-colored beard and hair is stringy and unkempt. \"Yes?\" He asks plainly when he looks at the lass.

Injuries aside, this is obviously Ranol\'s father. Save the hair coloring, the resemblance is uncanny. Ranor has the same facial build, the same sharp blue eyes, and while there are some faint wrinkles and signs of age, the woodcarver is still young enough that he isn\'t showing his years.

Relief and surprise show on her face that she carefully covers in a bobbing curtsey. She glances at the bruises and looks away but returns her gaze in an effort to at least appear polite. \"Excuse me, sir. Would Mistress Purna be at home?\"

Ranor is studying her carefully, his blue eyes (the same shade as his son\'s) are calculating. \"Aye, she is.. but she hasn\'t been feeling well. May I ask who is calling?\" He steps back to allow her into the entryway, one hand slowly stroking his beard, almost impatiently.. as if he has other things to be doing.

The Barazin holds up her basket quickly to show she has reason to be there, reason to standing in Ranol\'s house. The basket hides her grimace of sudden dislike for the dwarf and at being in this house. \"My mother, Astrior, sent me with pies, mince meat, and sweet breads for the Mistress. they have not been in touch with one another for...Oh? I am sorry to hear that.\"

Ranor seems to relax a bit as she speaks, his face softening as he senses her discomfort. \"Astrior.. \" He thinks for a moment, then his eyes seem to light with recognition. Suddenly he frowns. \"I\'m sorry. I\'m forgetting myself, lass. I am Ranor, Dwanor\'s son. Purna is my wife, of course. It\'s been a long time since she has spoken of Astrior, but I do recall her mentioning the friendship.\" His smile is ugly with the mishmash of colors on his face, but his bow is curteous. \"It is a pleasure to meet her daughter.. \" He lets the sentence hang, hoping she\'ll provide a name.

Red creeps up to her eyes as she bobs another curtsey out of nervousness saying, \"Hildis, duaghter of Hilvar, sir. Excuse me. Yes, your wife and my mother are...were friends when they were young, I mean, younger,\" she darts at look at him, ready to leave the basket and leave the house,\"And this is for her.\"

\"I apologize for my rudeness. As you can see, I\'ve run into a bit of poor health myself and it\'s left me in ill humor. Please, allow me to go see if my wife is feeling well enough to recieve company.\" Ranor gestures towards the living room as he moves a few steps deeping into the hall. \"Please have a seat, I will return in a moment, Hildis.\"

\"I, ah, am sorry to hear that, I mean to say that you are having, that you are ill,\" she says with near relief then looks about her but does not take a seat. \'Oh, I don\'t need to wait, the basket is my mother\'s way of sending her greetings. I should tell her that your wife is ailing. I don\'t want to impose.\"

\"She may wish to send word back.. please, please. Just a moment, lass. Barazin, yes? If I remember correctly?\" Ranor sounds friendly enough now, reaching to take the basket from her and gesturing again to the chairs and couch in the living room. His voice is soft and easy, attempting to calm the skittish young woman.

Resignation sweeps over her face and she suppresses a sigh as she dutifully sits. \"Yes, sir. Barazin,\" she nods and coaxes a tight smile for him.

Ranor eyes her for a long moment again, his eyes confused now. \"Is something amiss? I\'m sure that my wife will want to send her thanks. She just hasn\'t been in high spirits of late. Our youngest son is away and she misses him dearly. When Purna is depressed she becomes a bit reclusive, I\'m afraid. But, perhaps an old friend will cheer her.\" He sounds sincere, and there\'s a hint of worry in his tone.

\"Oh, no nothing is amiss, sir. I\'m sorry,\" Hildis says vaguely. \"I will tell my mother that she should come and visit,\" she nods.

His words register and she looks down to cover her relief, \"Ranol? Ranol, is not here? Is he traveling,\" she asks in an attempt to make conversation.

\"Ranol? .. No.\" Ranor pauses just before leaving the room, looking back at her. \"Ranon is our youngest. He\'s away to the Iron Hills on a trip. Do you know my eldest son?\" The woodcarver asks, his hand stroking his beard as he has a curious and thoughtful expression on his face.

Hildis blinks, \"Why yes! He. He saved both Thari and I from being killed by the troll, sir.\" Something stops her from being more frank with his father, she looks up at him with a pleasant bright-eyed expression and nods as if to say he knows the rest of the story.

Ranor smiles, but it doesn\'t touch his eyes. He smoothes his beard with a long stroke, nodding slowly. \"You were there as well. I did not realize. I am glad that my son was able to protect those that were with him.\" The woodcarver says, an odd note to his voice. \"You are a friend of his?\" He asks, moving to lean against the door frame, gently brushing his whiskers around his bruised cheek.

Hildis cannot match Ranor\'s smile and looks away in discomfort from him . \"Friend would be much to say,\" she replies softly looking up at him. \"You should be proud of him, sir. He is very brave.\"

\"I am.. I am. I\'m just surprised that he did not mention you. That is all.\" Ranor answers, his face growing relaxed and he gives her another soft smile. \"But my son is very busy so I\'m certain that it wasn\'t intentional.\" He straightens again and says in a level voice, \"I\'ll return shortly, please make yourself comfortable.\" Ranor moves away quietly, disappearing deeper into the home.

Giving him a nod fo assent, Hildis keeps her expression pleasant. As soon as he has left, she gets up from her chair and wanders the room restlessly tuching the mantle, looking into the fire and then returning to her seat. She does not sit down and frowns twisting her fingers.

When he returns, Ranor is devoid of the basket but holds what seems to be a sealed letter, though he hasn\'t been gone nearly long enough for Purna to have written something. \"My wife is sleeping, I\'m afraid, and I would not ask you to wait for her to wake.\" The woodcarver taps the letter against his palm carefully, a troubled expression on his face that is so like the one that Ranol wears at times. \"Hildis.. I wonder if I might impose a small favor upon you.\"

The Barazin glances quickly at the doorway as if expecting his wife or Ranol to come in behind him. When she looks at Ranor, her face is serious, the serious she reserves for customers she does not like but does not wish to offend.

Ranor seems to hesitate, weighing her reaction. \"Are you aware of the feud between our clan and Zinbar?\" He asks, his voice gentle again as he senses the maiden\'s attitude.

\"Zinbar?\" and her silence is too long to pretend she doesn\'t. \"Somewhat,\" is all she will commit to.

\"Purna, your mother\'s old friend.. She is from Zinbar. Part of the reason she feels so upset these days is that she is unable to visit with her companions in the clan.\" Ranor pauses, then presses on, \"She was supposed to meet with another friend of hers for lunch this afternoon, but.. our Thane has decreed that we are not to interact with Zinbar. Purna wrote up a letter for her friend to explain her absense, but I\'ve been struggling with the best way to see it delivered without angering my thane.\"

Frowning, Hildis listens with her head down as if unable to look Ranor in the face.

\"I see,\" she says with reluctance. \"So someone neutral as I am, would be able to carry a letter. My mother was your wife\'s friend, is her friend. I am sure she would not mind my helping her,\" she says finally with decision. \"I will carry it.\"

\"Aye.. I feel terrible for even asking this of you, but .. It would be a tremendous help to me and I cannot deny the good timing of your visit. I will give you some compensation for your time, of course.\" Ranor dips his hand into his pocket, fishing out some coin.

Hildis\'s mouth drops open in consternation at Ranol offering her money. \"I...I...my mother is your wife\'s friend and as her daughter will be glad to carry a message for her,\" she replies in firm quiet tones of refusal. \"But I will not accept anything from you, sir,\" she says rising.

\"It is no trouble. For your time.. as a token of my appreciation for so imposing upon you.\" Ranor gives her the letter and presses a silver coin into her hand with it. \"And I do appreciate this, Hildis, I really do. You\'ve brought me a great measure of relief.\"

She promptly lays the coin down on a nearby table. \"No, it is between...your wife...I am not a messenger,\" she stammers trying to find words that do not express how offended she is and heads toward the door unwillingly to talk further about it.

\"Wait.. lass!\" Ranor says quickly, \"I did not mean offense. Please.. \" He hurries after her. \"I apologize. I do.\" He sounds sincere and perhaps a bit nervous. \"Thank you for helping my family with this. You are a kind girl. Purna was supposed to meet with her friend, Varn, at the tavern just inside the Zinbar arch. Just ask for him from the barkeep, and if he\'s not there, I\'m sure the tender will pass it on.\" Ranor seems ready to leave it at that.. then adds, \"And please, do not speak of this. If Thane Braldor hears of communication with Zinbar, he may grow angry.\"

Hildis stops at the door and reaches a slow hand out to take the letter. \"Varn,\" she repeats and shrugs reluctantly at his apologies. \"I will speak to no one about it. I Have no wish to become embroiled in a feud between clans, times are troubled enough.\" She curtseys, her face troubled, \"Do not worry I will do it on the way home then no one will need think further of it,\" and leaves without the further customary courtesies.

Ranor watches her leave, confusion on his face, but he presses the door closed softly.