Haeneth |It was no surprise she was up at this late hour. It was a usual sight—Haeneth sitting on the floor by the fire, not even bothering for the comfort of the hide rug. She didn't look up from the task over which she was hunched. She would never mistake the sound of his footsteps.
Thorvall |"It's always so hard to get us all in the same place these days." He spoke softly, hanging up the Dalish cloak upon it's oak peg by her own. He padded to the rug, and started to strip the leather gloves from his arms. "How is the world beyond our hills here, my steward?" He smiled down at her, peering at whatever she busied herself with.
Haeneth looked up from her leg, her trouser leg rolled up past her knee. She gently dabbed at a shallow, but long cut along the side of her foot with a cloth she wet from a bowl beside her. "It goes on," she reported. "Full of its many wonders and troubles." Her smile was warm and welcoming, as if she'd been long at their home and he was the one returning from skirmishes on distant soil.
Thorvall frowned down at the wound, but had enough for his concern to go no further than his expression. "How long are you back here for?" He asked, dropping his gloves by his side and easing himself next to her, choosing the comforts offered by the slain bear. "Dytha is in Snowbourn, but I hope she'll be not long returning."
Haeneth |"She'll get bored and wander back, as usual, and I will be here long enough to see her even if she tarries." Her brow pinched in that thoughtful way, worry running deep. "There's trouble here, and I must stay to find out just how deep it runs."
Thorvall offered her a toothy grin. "When do we find ourselves in anything but trouble?" He watched her for a few more moments then edged himself closer, taking over the care of her wound if she would allow it. "In these lands, or behind these walls?"
Haeneth smiled softly. "Maybe we should stop looking for it." She turned so he could better look at the cut through the callous. "I was careless." She nodded to the injury. "Slipped on a river stone. Boots will need mending."
Thorvall chuckled as he dabbed the water gently onto the wound, her foot cradled in his lap. "What am I to do without trouble, farm?" He huffed at the thought, adding. "Once I am given land here by my father, or return to Bree-land I may consider growing crops but until then..." He trailed off. "I am of Fram's line, a king, and maybe I heal with a king's touch, eh?" He winked, nodding down at her injury. "The Clans across the river stir, and the word from Woodhurst is we are being accused of the abduction and murder of their border farmers."
Haeneth |"If we aren't cutting their lives short, someone is." She nodded to the mantle where an innocuous brown bag sat amidst the clutter of their peaceful hours.
Thorvall raised a brow, still more gold than grey. "And what will I find in there, Trollcwellend?"
Haeneth stared at it in a way that suggested she had done so for hours before. "A message."
Thorvall |Gently placing her foot down upon the edge of the bear's fur, he stood and made his way to the bag. Cautiously, he peered inside. His face twisted. "Is that..."
Haeneth watched the gruesome contents reflect in his wrinkles and scars. "It's not Dunlendings."
Thorvall shook his head, gingerly pulling the thing from it's bag. "Where did..." He shook his head, peering at it as if he might learn it's story by sight alone. "Who did it come from?"
Haeneth |The gold-cased organ was still impaled on the nail by which it had hung from the fisherman's door. "A poor soul named Hadric. A fisherman. A problem-maker who'd been kept in the stocks more than once, but beyond that..." She looked down at her foot and began to apply a disinfectant paste from the jar beside her. "I'm not sure who was meant to find it. I kept watch a whole day and night over the house after I found it...after I found him. They buried him yesterday."
Thorvall swore under his breath. "I've only just returned from Edoras, I should have..." He pushed the words back down, hastily dropping the thing back in it's bag. "I need to try to speak to some of the Dunlendings, find out where these accusations are coming from but..." Trailing off once more, he turned. "Petty crimes do not get tongues dipped in gold, this is something I'd expect from someone like Rashka or the Redwolds of old."
Haeneth |"Blackthorns." The name tasted evil—a name with faces. Faces that had been leering at them from the edges of dreams for years. "I take back what I said. We should always go looking for trouble, and end it."
Thorvall tilted his head a little, a smile tugging at the edges of his worry. "We do, Haneth, we do."
Haeneth |"I know." She wrapped her foot in a bandage and tied it secure. She rose slowly, testing her weight on it. The step towards him was worth the pain, and she found reward in slipping her arms around him. "Welcome home."
Thorvall offered a light sigh, and careful of the weight he might put onto her injured foot, fell into her embrace.
Chat Log: 08/15