Tears of Mirrormere RPG

[Thinlómien]

"Where is Óin? Has he not come back yet?"

Ori had been so deep in thought that he had not heard the others coming. He turned quickly to Trór.

"Óin has not come yet," he replied. Following a sudden impulse, he knelt down and bowed his head low. "My lord," he added.

There was murmuring and someone exhaled loudly. Ori rose up and eyed the Dwarves gathered at the gates. "For that is what he is now," he said steadily, "there is no doubt Trór is now our lord and we will follow him."

No one said anything. Ori realised they were waiting for him to continue. He resisted the urge to give the wry smile so characteristic to himself. "Of course, we will have no official ceremony to name him the Lord of Moria until we have let Balin to his rest and mourned him properly. For no one should think we do not honour him, or that we did not love him."

His voice broke a little by the last words but he held his expression calm. There was still a silence. Ori could feel a tear running down his cheek. He wiped it to his sleeve. The time for mourning a dear friend would come later, he promised himself.

He turned to Tror and gave him the wry smile. "I hope I did not overstep my boundaries, my lord," he said in a low voice.