Justice for Gerin

The Chetwood

There is a large clearing in the trees here, a few hundred meters on each side. The clearing is in the shape of a rough oval, longer in the east-west direction than it is north-south. At the eastern side, the surrounding pines and thickets are thin enough that a faint trail can be made out. On all other sides the plant life appears to be impassable. The clearing is very large, a few hundred meters on a side. It appears to be a rough oval, long in the east-west direction, and thin in the north-south. At the east, the surrounding pines and thicket are thin enough that a trail can be made out, but on all other sides, the plant life is impassable. The clearing itself is home to a host of wildflowers, and many more insects. The very same insects produce quite a lot of noise despite their diminutive size. For the most part, the grasses and flowers remain knee deep for a human, or waist deep for a hobbit.

Contents:

Thari

Obvious exits:

North, East, and West

Kellan comes out of the trees from the east and into town.

Kellan has arrived.

[Frarin] There is a gentle buzzing all about this clearing in the Chetwood, a perpetual drone as insects soak up the warmth of the summer morn and attend to their endless duties. A sweet scent lingers also amongst the tall grasses and flowers, filling the grove with an unusual sense of peace and calm. A tiny haven, blissfully unaware of any danger greater than the tread of tiny hobbit feet.

Today, however, there are no hobbit feet. There is only one set of feet to disrupt the clearing and these are shod in heavy boots. They belong, in fact, to Frarin son of Forli, and as they pass through the tall grasses they are accompanied by the haft of a long blue war hammer. But no grim duty does this hammer perform this summer morn, for it serves only to support the dwarf, who limps noticeably on his left leg and hunches slightly as he walks.

Although clad in his usual red tunic, the sleeves of Frarin\'s garb have been rolled up to relieve some of the heat. A thin bandage is still wrapped about his head, but the recent scars across his left arm and hand are now uncovered as the silver merchant wanders absently.

[Thari(#31038)] The grasses swish, but these sounds don\'t stand out among the other small noises of the meadow. A figure moves in the trees to the left of Frarin, but a quick glance might reveal just another dwarf. Thari, too, is limping, favoring her left leg and using a walking-stick. \"Looking for some time alone, Master Frarin?\" calls the merchant-healer.

[Frarin] As Thari\'s voice rises above the drone of the clearing\'s usual occupants, Frarin\'s gaze, hitherto dropped to the ground as he wandered, comes up. For a moment there is a glimpse of grey weariness in his face, but then his eyes land upon the other and his more nature grimness sets in again. Brows come together and a frown tugs down the corners of his mouth. He does not appear displeased, only once again guarded.

\"Nay, I do not seek solitude, Thari,\" Frarin calls back, slowly struggling towards her. \"Only to walk and clear my mind. To be on my feet again is what I most sought.\"

[Thari(#31038)] \"Sensible, quite sensible.\" Thari limps toward him, too, leaning on her staff, but halts before leaving the cooling shadows at the trees\' edge. \"For myself, I would seek solitude if it weren\'t for the army at our tail. I wonder why they haven\'t harried us yet.\" Faint traces of worry crease her brow.

[Frarin] Leaning heavily on the blue hammer, Frarin soon joins Thari is the cooler shade. He heaves a heavy sigh, as if the effort had cost him a measure of pain, but says nothing of it. \"I sense that these Rangers know this land even better than they betray. Perhaps they have hidden our trail into the Chetwood enough so that we would not be followed.\"

The silver merchant grunts. \"But even so, I would rather move again. While we sit in our rest, the host may yet pass us by without notice.\" Shaking his head, Frarin points the end of his war hammer towards Thari\'s wounded leg. \"How is that leg? Healing better now, I trust, with the arrowhead gone from it?\"

[Thari(#31038)] \"Better, better, though longer, as the knife-wound was nearly as bad as the arrowhead.\" Thari leans back against a near tree and passes a hand over her brow. Grey eyes stare at the forest floor before his boots. All in a rush, she speaks. \"Frarin I must beg you forgiveness. I was a fool to have been at the front of the battle when there were younglings behind. I ought to have been with them. My axe is not so mighty as your hammer, but it ought to have been a last defense before them and it wasn\'t. I didn\'t even think of it and I don\'t know how I can repay your family for my thoughtlessness.\"

[Frarin] Frarin nods deeply as Thari talks of her wound, and his eyes rest on the merchant-healer\'s bad leg. But as she falls silent, then speaks in a rush, the silver merchant\'s gaze falls to the long grass. An audible breath escapes him and his shoulders hunch even more. Perhaps only the buzzing insects that flitter around the wildflowers at his feet can see the heavy thoughts behind his downcast eyes.

And for awhile that incessant drone is all that breaks the silence between the two dwarves. When Frarin speaks it is almost a shock, for the grumble of his voice seems at first to meld with the droning, so low is its tone. \"I do not accept your apology, Thari. You owe me none, nor any other.\" Up comes the dark gaze, grim and set, though tired. \"It is not your place to stay behind with the younglings merely because you are a woman, and should never be. Your axe is all the mightier for your will to wield it. Gerin\'s -\" the name catches in Frarin\'s throat \"- fate was my responsibility and mine alone. Whatever guilt you feel for it, banish it now.\"

Thari continues studying the earth as the silence lingers on and even as he speaks. She nods once. Her head lifts when he is done, grey eyes on his face before she turns her gaze to the side.

\"Yes, well,\" she begins, an awkward uncertain note in her voice, \"He will be found still. The men and elves are looking for him.\"

[Frarin] \"Believe that if it eases your heart,\" Frarin says darkly, pessimistically perhaps but not unkind. \"For my part...\" The sombre voice drifts away for a moment, then picks up again with another attempt. \"Were he here, he would not have left my side while I slept.\"

And there it is. The merchant\'s grim thoughts spoken at last, making the pleasantness of the grove suddenly hot and stifling. But just as quickly as the dark mood settles over the clearing, Frarin\'s eyes behold Thari, hard but clear. \"Are you proud to have come west, Thari? Proud to have lent your axe to such a cause?\"

[Thari(#31038)] \"Yes,\" Thari answers as though startled, and up her eyes go up to him again. \"Of course. My life would have been lived in shame had we turned east while the orcs\' trail lead west.\" Her brows lift. \"Why?\"

[Frarin] \"Then there you have it,\" says Frarin, tone just barely lightened. \"I felt the same at the time, and even more so now that we are here.\" Leaning upon the war hammer, Frarin\'s gaze sweeps the clearing. \"I was not wholly honest a moment ago. I did come here to seek solitude, but I have had my peace and want no more of it.

\"Eight years ago Gerin swore to follow me as an apprentice and he knew, and his father knew, the danger of such a road. But he was not content to remain behind, and would never have been. His mind was very much like my own, in that respect.\"

[Thari(#31038)] \"He always struck me as a good lad, very respectful. \'Tis good to know of his pride as well. If, if he had an end yet, he probably would have not wanted a better end had he lived another three hundred years yet.\" Thari nods her head, still awkward, and stamps the end of her staff upon the ground.

[Frarin] \"Indeed,\" Frarin nods. There is still that same weariness in his eyes, and also a glint something akin to guilt, but his gaze seems mostly resolute now. The vulnerability, the concern that had lingered there a few nights before lingers no longer. Instead there seems a determination in his face and stance, even hunched as he is, that seems unusual.

\"And if indeed he has met his end,\" says the silver merchant, \"then I will not bring back such news to my brother without first avenging him twofold, threefold and more. I bid you bear witness to this oath, Thari.\"

[Thari(#31038)] \"I do,\" Thari says, head lifting a bit higher. She straightens, no longer leaning against the tree. \"You\'ll do it, Frarin,\" she says simply. A sad half-smile. \"You\'ll be covered in the black blood of his foes!\"

[Frarin] The silver merchant gives a single, sharp nod, frown deepening as the resolve hardens. \"I make few oaths, but those I do make I heartily seek to fulfill. The responsibility is mine and none other\'s. That is why I wish to banish my peace and be done with this whole affair, for better or worse. Ill or good, I will meet these host again and hopefully then we will settle with them once and for all. I know not how, but it shall be done.\"

He lifts his gaze to look to the east, through the dark lines of the Chetwood where the camp of man, elves and dwarves can barely be made out. \"Let us return to the camp now though. These Rangers may yet have news that will rouse us from our long rest.\"

[Thari(#31038)] Frarin\'s vulnerability is gone, but Thari suddenly seems to have aquired it. She nods in silence and steps into the sunlight-- flashing gold is spun into her beard and hair all at once.

\"We will meet them.\" Her voice is quiet, low. \"And whether we will finally die with the rest of our kin, many more orcs will be slain for having roused the wrath of our kin.\" Northward she limps, watching the shadows of the trees beyond the sunlight.

[Frarin] Another heavy nod and Frarin follows after Thari. What a pair they make, both limping even with the aid of a support, both equally heavy of heart. But behind them the world seems to laugh. The buzzing rises to a new level, as if the busy insects are gossiping about the two departing dwarves. The summer sky is a pristine blue, with no mind for the hot forest below, or the stinking Midgewater, or the tired camp. Perhaps the warm summer day lends heart to the dwarves and men and elves, and perhaps it doesn’t but somewhere it beats down on the black hides of a thousand unhappy cave-dwellers.

And that at least is something to smile about.