stormaktstiden | Test drive post for demeleier

Test drive post for demeleier

[It's been a few weeks that she's been in Demeleier now, and since a while ago she has accepted that she won't be able to leave immediately. She might not even want to, now that Kíli has arrived as well. There is a difference between knowing that a reunification with her family can't be further than a few decades off and actually having one of them around. Still strange, but still just as precious and full of wonder and joy. To have her youngest back, it's a thing that she doesn't want to leave behind. ...And even if the word that no time passes back home while they are here is a trick to subdue them (and that is a constant worry), there is a certain reluctance to desiring a way home. Not that, should a path open itself, she wouldn't immediately take it. She has a duty to her people, and while she is certain that they would not let the lord of the black messengers blackmail them into anything should he claim to have taken her as a hostage (though avenging her would be an entirely different story - she might not be a king, but her blood is still among the most noble of all dwarves in Middle Earth) she would not leave them in times of need if she could help it. And times of need they are.

But she is needed here as well, by her son and maybe others as well, and looping back to this point she opens the feed. She has an announcement to make.]

I've now set up everything in the smithy to be able to do proper work there. [As opposed to the above average but in her eyes sub-par work that she could do with an anvil and other things that were simply too large for her.] As such, I will now offer the services of a smith. [She won't mention that her smithwork is, by default, far better than any human's (though she does consider Matsue very capable. But. For a human apprentice), because that should be clear to everyone who knows dwarves and the others will see, no bragging needed - those are her thoughts, anyway.] Contact me if you need anything. Even if the item in question is unfamiliar to me, I might still be able to work with it. [Or maybe collaborate on it with the other woman or her son, two or three brains can think of more than one. She almost mentions payment modalities out of habit, but then stops herself, no. Things work differently here (and that unsettles her, but what can you do).]

[ooc: All of this is absolutely not supposed to be game canon, but simply a throwing together of something for the sake of a test drive. She's been in Deme for 1 1/2 months, Kíli arrived a while after her, and she gets along with Matsue. Everything else is up in the air.]

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[This news clearly meets with Celebrían's approval, as she is looking pleased when she responds]

I am glad to hear we will soon have Dwarven crafts in this village. I have missed such things.

Oh, are you working at the forge as well? I've spoken to Matsue before, but I don't think I've seen you.

[Kíli, unfortunately, hasn't been able to get up and find any sort of work in the almost four weeks he's been here. Morgul poison, it seems, does a number on even Dwarves and it's taking time to heal. He has taken woodcarving commissions and other small, easy-to-do tasks, but he's itching to hunt or get to a forge or do literally anything.

He grins when his mother comes home and announces her job]

Finally. I thought we'd never get anything of any quality in this village!

[She still doesn't fully trust the elf, still isn't fully sure how to think of her, but Rivendell has always been a friendly enough place the few times that she's come to visit it over the years, for an elven home anyway. And while the main reason for her current attitude certain are the things that have transpired between them since her coming here, that has certainly helped towards the stance as well.]

There was much things wrought by dwarven hands in elven homes in the days of your staying in Middle Earth?

[There doesn't lie surprise in her word, exactly - because really who would not want to have such fine crafts in their house, even when they are an elf. But still, she's grown up in a family whose elves, in good and bad times, have been mostly those of Mirkwood, and in her lifetime the relationship has been caught between careful courtesy and outright loathing, veering towards the former again in recent years. She would not expect gladness at the existence of one kin's halls in those of the other group.]

In the days when I lived in Ost-in-Edhel, we had a very robust trade with Khazad-dûm. Not that we did not have fine craftsmen of our own, but we always welcomed Dwarven merchants and traders in the city.

[For a moment she almost makes the switch to Westron, the situation is just all to familiar to the times when she would offer smithing and other services in human villages to support her family, travel with family and others to support them, places where they would not stay for longer than a week or a season, places there dwarves didn't dwell usually.

But the thought isn't strong enough, and the words come out in the village's common speak still.] I've been here for little more than a month. [It's a verbal shrug, basically; she has done nothing to attract particular attention, between working on and in the forge and fixing up her house, and dealing with those that she naturally encountered and those that she knew from home... So there are no feelings towards not being known. There lies no insult in it.]

You know Matsue?

Only in passing, when I first arrived I received my iron from her. I don't visit that part of the village often.

[He shifts and leans closer to the mirror, curiously.]

You sound as if you have worked in a forge before. Do you normally serve as a blacksmith in your own world?

[It's still odd to come home to him. To come home to find her little boy, really and truly there, and it still is a wonder to her, every time. It might make her just a bit softer towards him than she would usually be. Make her take a few years off his age when dealing with him, sometimes. She let him leave her before he had yet fully reached adulthood, let him leave to never return, and the scars run deep. Still, he's there, and getting better, and she smiles at him when she enters the little cottage, modified to look more homely by the capable hands of two dwarves, yet still only a small cottage.]

You'll find something in no time as well, once you're well enough. How is your leg doing today? [She left in the early morning, so it is a legit question even though they share a house.]

[When Dís told him that he, Thorin, and Fíli died at Erebor, Kíli was a mess for nearly a week. Not that anyone who wasn't a Dwarf would have been able to tell, but he'd been much more affectionate and clingy where his mother was concerned--and given that he was already pretty physically affectionate for a Dwarf, he was worried Dís would have smacked him if he hadn't eventually calmed down a little. He doesn't even mind it when he thinks his mother is treating him like a younger Dwarf. He never should have gone on the Quest.

He shrugs]

Walking around the cottage and down the path didn't hurt, not until I sat down for a few minutes. Still, that's progress, isn't it? Soon I'll be runnin' around and giving you grey hairs again.

[Yes, he's ignoring the sixty years of grey hair his mother has currently that she didn't have the last time he saw her.]

I prefer working with silver, and gold and gems as they find their way into those works or fine weapons, but there were many years when those weren't options and a living could only be found in more simple works.

[And just to deflect certain assumptions...] There lies no honor in letting one's hands rest idle, and no nobility does it signify to hold oneself to words and mere exercise of one's fighting ability. [Which is a reason why she thinks little of human nobility.]

[He nods, listening, and smiles gently]

And yet there is no shame either, when one's hands need rest. I hope you don't overwork yourself too much, even if you're enjoying your craft.

[There is a moment of quiet - she is thinking of home, and of the worry that she holds for the development in that ancient home of her kin - but there is little to be done about it now, and while she worries for her cousins and their companions, there just really is very little that can be done. Especially from here. So she concentrates on another part of the elven woman's words instead. Worry has never helped anyone, and all that she can do is trust in Glóin and his son to bring back good news, should she end up not joining them after all.]

Where did Ost-in-Edhel lie? [Her people are strong in handing down memory through the generations, along with duties and attitudes, but the name doesn't resonate with anything.]

[But if- no, no ifs and whats, because there really had been no alternative at that time. She's long made her peace with the decision and knowledge that she didn't fail her sons in not arguing for them to stay more strongly. It's still a fact full of regret and sorrow, but one that she has lived with for many decades. It's certainly an upside of being a dwarf that Mahal made them robust enough to withstand sorrow and be practical enough to put it aside as much as is needed to go on.

Sorrow is not on her mind at all as she puts down a bundle of groceries on the table and pulls a chair towards herself to sit down next to him, taking off her gloves and then reaching over to ruffle his hair affectionately. It's only a short moment of touch before she pulls away to unpack the grocery bag, though.] I'll be as white as my grandfather was within a year, I'm sure.

[He makes a soft noise of protest at the hair ruffling before standing to help her unpack]

If I don't do it, the Elvenking and his son might just. I've apologized for you having to deal with them already, yes? Not that Legolas is really all that bad, I suppose, but his father...

They're elves. [Mirkwood elves, really. She's come to a tentatively positive relationship with the elven woman that lives with Thranduil, but that doesn't change much with the two men.

She throws a look at Kíli.] Glóin tells me that Legolas called his son an orc.

I didn't hear that.

[Spiders and Tauriel provide excellent distractions, after all]

I wouldn't be surprised if he did, though. Gimli wasn't exactly set to inherit his mother's good looks last I saw him.

[Kíli.]

There seems little need to overwork oneself here. [While they don't exactly live in luxury, she's so far had no reason to fear for herself and her son to have to go without food, and their living conditions are all around agreeable enough to not warrant self-destructive amount of work. She's a fan of knowing your limits and knowing when to stop.]

Not usually, but there are times when the fae play cruel games. You never know what might be needed, then.

[A frown at that thought.]

I, myself, have not experienced anything harsher than a nuisance, but I've heard many others tell me that worse things are possible.

Nor were you.

[Lies. She does think he's a rather good looking dwarf, the lack of beard aside. But if he says such things about his cousin... Though her tone has an amused tinge, she's obviously joking, also evidenced by the self-depreciating (or elevating) nature of her words.

An apple is put down in front of him. Small treats heighten the morale, and such, and she's still in the mood to pamper him just a little bit between the injury and just having gotten him back.]

Oi, I think I took after you a lot better than Fíli!

[He laughs, lighting up at the apple and promptly biting into it. He has no idea how long his mother's pampering will last, but he's not complaining]

Everyone always said if I just grew out my beard I'd look exactly like you, even Uncle Thorin. Gimli, on the other hand, poor lad. Going to look like his uncle, I bet

Then I would leave it for these times to come to decide my path of action.

[His words make her frown though, and she sits back a bit, crossing her arms over her chest.]

What have you heard of?

Edited 2014-04-09 20:15 (UTC)

I've heard there are more dangerous creatures further out in the forest or mountains, though that isn't to say the village is safe at all times.

[A pause.]

Just before my arrival there was a particularly harsh time involving outright attacks, I believe. I am fortunate to have missed it.

Don't speak like that of your young cousin where he can't hear it. [Aka where he can't punch you for it.

She considers him for a moment.] You will, eventually. And be the most dashing young dwarf, and turn the heads of all other dwarves your age. [She picks up what is not needed for dinner and starts to put it away.] You and Fíli will be a walking hazard to everyone's concentration. [She's obviously not speaking of things that will happen in Middle Earth - maybe of things that will happen in the halls, maybe of things that might have happened or that she always thought would happen one day.]

Are it only outside forces that endanger the village?

[This is mostly a worry about her son; he's still injured, and while she would normally not worry as much (they are capable young dwarves, both her sons, able to defend themselves), she would rather know him safe inside the village until he has healed enough.]

[It's so easy to just ignore the fact that he apparently dies when she talks like that. It's like they're just waiting to break free of this place and go home, where Erebor is theirs and he's causing trouble and is the reason behind her wrinkles]

If it's a contest between me and Fíli, he's going to win. He's the better looking Dwarf out of the two of us. I'm just pretty.

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Test drive post for demeleier

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