The Green Dragon - Part 2 - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

piosenniel · 02-19-2003, 07:55 PM

"I made it myself, when I was being taught in the art of blackmithery by my father. It is a pretty thing, but thus should go to a pretty person, not some old, ugly a beat up dwarf like me." Here he chuckled. "And so I give it to you."

He held out the necklace to her expecting her to take it in her hands. Instead she laughed delightedly, and to him it was as if the ring of tiny hammers against gems of unmeasured worth echoed in the beloved caverns of Erebor.

She beckoned him forward, and sweeping her long, night-black hair up with one hand, she leaned toward him inclining her head, and bade him place the necklace round her throat for her. And, blushing, though it is hard to say that a Dwarf blushes since his cheeks are covered so fully by his beard, he did so with deft hands.

He thought to step back, then, from her, but she caught his face in her hands and kissed him merrily on the cheek. She picked the flat gem up, its color reminding her of the deep blue of the sea, and with a finger traced the crescent moon upon it. ‘Often have I seen this, Master Dwarf, out on the deeps of the ocean, the moon reflected and held in all its shining perfection on the surface of the water.’ She inclined her head to him once again, smiling. ‘It is a gracious gift. I will cherish it.’

She took the knife from him, admiring the work on it, testing it’s edge against her thumb. And as the thin line of blood welled up, she smiled, saying, ‘A very fine blade. I will indeed keep it safe for you.’ Pio held the gaze of the Dwarf with her grey eyes. ‘There will be no need to send it to the Golden Wood, I think. I do not see that your doom will come soon upon you.’

‘But come, now, we will drink to the success of your adventuring. She reached into the small cupboard beneath the table next to her and pulled out two finely wrought crystal glasses, and a silver flask bearing an engraving of two crossed axes. Two fingers worth of fiery Dwarven spirits she poured for each of them.

Raising her glass high to him, her face alight with grace and dignity, she spoke these words, ‘To the Axes of the Dwarves, Master Dwarf! Baruk Khazâd!’

02-19-2003, 07:55 PM	#11
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	"I made it myself, when I was being taught in the art of blackmithery by my father. It is a pretty thing, but thus should go to a pretty person, not some old, ugly a beat up dwarf like me." Here he chuckled. "And so I give it to you." He held out the necklace to her expecting her to take it in her hands. Instead she laughed delightedly, and to him it was as if the ring of tiny hammers against gems of unmeasured worth echoed in the beloved caverns of Erebor. She beckoned him forward, and sweeping her long, night-black hair up with one hand, she leaned toward him inclining her head, and bade him place the necklace round her throat for her. And, blushing, though it is hard to say that a Dwarf blushes since his cheeks are covered so fully by his beard, he did so with deft hands. He thought to step back, then, from her, but she caught his face in her hands and kissed him merrily on the cheek. She picked the flat gem up, its color reminding her of the deep blue of the sea, and with a finger traced the crescent moon upon it. ‘Often have I seen this, Master Dwarf, out on the deeps of the ocean, the moon reflected and held in all its shining perfection on the surface of the water.’ She inclined her head to him once again, smiling. ‘It is a gracious gift. I will cherish it.’ She took the knife from him, admiring the work on it, testing it’s edge against her thumb. And as the thin line of blood welled up, she smiled, saying, ‘A very fine blade. I will indeed keep it safe for you.’ Pio held the gaze of the Dwarf with her grey eyes. ‘There will be no need to send it to the Golden Wood, I think. I do not see that your doom will come soon upon you.’ ‘But come, now, we will drink to the success of your adventuring. She reached into the small cupboard beneath the table next to her and pulled out two finely wrought crystal glasses, and a silver flask bearing an engraving of two crossed axes. Two fingers worth of fiery Dwarven spirits she poured for each of them. Raising her glass high to him, her face alight with grace and dignity, she spoke these words, ‘To the Axes of the Dwarves, Master Dwarf! Baruk Khazâd!’ __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.