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Chapter 9 - Unexpected Assumptions


"Don't go too far," Hanah said to Hemery.

It was afternoon at the market in Dale. They had spent they day selling wares at a table and were able to work on orders at the same time. Hanah stitched decorative leather ribbons and patches, or imprinted copper and silver plates with an iron pencil. Hemery braided leather cords and silver thread for her bracelets and necklaces.

After work was done for the day Hanah needed to do some bead business and so Hemery went to look at the other tables that were still up. There were dwarves and men selling everything from tools to clothes, swords to sweets, cheese to jewelery. Hemery was surveying a table of silver necklaces when a voice startled her.

"Beautiful, aren't they?"

She flinched and looked up. It was Lord Fíli.

"They're decent," she replied, returned her focus to the table, and earned a chuckle.

"That's quality dwarven craft there, lass. You sure you're not underestimating it?"

When she looked at him, he was smiling. She did not think it funny.

"I can make necklaces and bracelets myself. And soft ones, as well, that follows the skin when you move, not stiff, cold chunks of metal just hangin' on a chain." She looked at the dwarf standing by the table, who had probably crafted them. "No offense," she said.

They really were beautiful, with intricate, detailed designs that demanded a lot of skill, but she did not want to admit that to Lord Fíli. The dwarf did not take offense, though. He did not seem to even notice she was there, his attention solely on Lord Fíli. She would never bow so low to a customer—lord or no lord. When she grew up, she would do the best work and people would seek her out and treat her with respect.

"Does Mistress Skinner happen to be at the market today?" he asked.

"She's busy," Hemery replied tersely, hoping to convey the sense that he should not bother her unless absolutely necessary. She did not have time to run back and forth to Erebor at his beck and call.

Hemery moved on to the next table which was covered in glass bowls, cups, and plates in different sizes with various colours swirling within. From the beam overhead, which steadied the canvas roof, hung small, glass figures. Hemery could see birds, cats, dogs, fishes, and snowflakes.

Lord Fíli nodded to the glassblower and took one of the figures off its hook.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked Hemery.

It was a fish no bigger than his thumb, but its tail and fins were twice its size and frozen in motion like flags billowing in the wind. Within the glass were streaks of blue, green, and gold. She shrugged, pretending to be unimpressed.

"It's a fish."

He nodded in exaggerated appreciation. "Indeed it is. You have a keen eye. But it is no ordinary fish. This is a wanderer. In the summer they live in the reefs of the ocean west of Ered Luin."

"The Blue Mountains." Hemery was quick to express her new knowledge.

"That's right," he smiled. Hemery pushed her lips together to suppress a pleased smile of her own.

"And in the winter," he continued, "they swim south from the Gulf of Lune all the way to the outlet of the Anduin river."

"Is that far?"

"It would take months to travel on foot. If you happen to be on a boat off shore on the right day, you may find yourself in a sea with all the colours of the rainbow like blossoming flowers beneath the surface."

"Why do they swim all that way?"

"To escape the cold, and find the right place to live—where they belong."

He handed her the glass fish. She looked at it closely. Its eyes were specks of gold that shot through its body and flowed out into the long tail.

"They see the world," he said.

"From under water," Hemery added.

"That's part of the world, too."

"Yeah, but it's dark and cold in the water."

"I see your point." Lord Fíli bit his lip in thought. "I should have showed you this instead."

He snatched the fish from her palm and replaced it with a bird with purple feathers.

"This also travels from the mountains in the north to the deserts in the south during winter. And this one sees it all from the sky."

"That sounds a bit better," Hemery admitted. She thought about Dwalin's stories about his long travels. These dwarves had all done so much, knew so much, had been to so many places, while she had only known Blackwater. "Have you been to the Blue Mountains?"

"Aye, I have." He hung the glass figures back.

"What's it like there?"

"Dwarves living under ground, mining, crafting. Kind of the same as here, but not as nice as Erebor of course." He winked.

"Where else have you been?"

"Everywhere between there and here. The Shire, the Misty Mountains, Mirkwood, and a few visits to the Iron Hills. All dwarves here have once lived somewhere else. Other mountains or other cities, or mainly traveling all the time, working in different places.

"And why did you come here?"

"Everybody has somewhere they belong, and this is my home."

"But how do you know?"

"You know it when you feel it. Maybe you will need to travel and see the world before you know where you belong and decide to settle down."

"I don't like to travel. I'm no good at it. When we came here, we had only been walkin' for two days, and I was dirty and hungry and tired. I don't ever want to do that again."

He frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. But it doesn't have to be like that. You can ride a horse instead of walk, and stop to rest in villages with proper Inn's, sleep in a real bed. Learn how to take care of yourself on the road, how to hunt and how to make a fire so you're never hungry or cold. Sometimes there are caravans of people who travel together in big groups to protect and help each other on their way to trade in other cities. You learn craft from each other and make things together. You should give it a try someday."

Hemery was so wrapped up in what Lord Fíli was saying that she hardly noticed Hanah approaching them.

"Hem, it's time to go," she said when she appeared by her side. "Oh—Hello, Lord Fíli," she added, turning to him.

Hemery was pretty sure Hanah had known it was him standing there before she came over, the surprise in her voice was a little flat.

"Good afternoon, Mistress Skinner."

Hanah hefted the bag with their unsold wares higher on her shoulder. Hemery knew her sister was tired. She stayed up late in the evening, struggling to see her beads in low candle light, and went early to market, sitting hunched over her work, wearing out her back. When Hemery reminded Hanah how she should sit, she was only rewarded with sighs and a distanced I know, so she soon gave up trying. That bag did not help either, weighing down her right shoulder like it did.

Hanah was always focused on work, which was good, but she obsessed over details until she did not trust herself, and criticized herself to a point where it sometimes delayed her work. Hemery thought Hanah also needed see new places. She needed to compare her work to others'. She needed to know she was better than others.

And she knew Hanah blamed herself for the way they had to leave Blackwater.

"We should go to Ered Luin," Hemery told Hanah.

"Really? And why is that?" Hanah looked between Lord Fíli and her sister.

"To see the world and learn new things, so we can find where we belong."

Hanah tensed, but smiled. Hemery could tell it was not real.

"And we must travel to Ered Luin for that?" Hanah asked.

Hemery quitened. She had said something wrong. She did not know what it had been this time, but she was sure Hanah would tell her later.

"Dwalin is over there." Hanah raised her arm to the right. "Go help him pack and we can go home together."

Without a word or even a nod, Hemery did as she was told. Then Hanah and Lord Fíli were alone in the street. Many people still moved around the market, but Hanah felt alone.

To find a place where we belong? What had he said to Hemery? Hanah and Hemery belonged together. As long as they had each other, it did not matter where they lived. It did not matter that Hanah made mistakes that forced them to leave their childhood home. It did not matter if people chased them away. What had he said to make her question that? Did he not think they belonged here? She could hardly look at him for fear of what she might say.

"She's a very curious lass," Lord Fíli said.

She ignored the comment. "I wish you wouldn't do that," she said.

"Do what?"

"Play with her head like that."

His brow furrowed. "It's not play. She should explore her options, explore the world, learn new things."

She tried to find the words to explain their situation to him. "This is her life. Here, now, with our work. It's what she knows, and she's good at it. She's been trainin' to be a leathersmith since she was born."

He shrugged and waved a hand nonchalantly. "She's a child; she has plenty of time to become a master in any field."

"She's mankind. She doesn't have hundreds of years to find out what she's best at."

He shook his head. "It shouldn't be about what she's best at, but what she desires. What she sees at night when she closes her eyes. What her hands does without effort, without being asked. What her passion is."

Hanah just got more confused. Desires and passions?

"The important thing is that whatever she ends up doing is what she wants to do," he articulated.

"What she wants?" Hanah repeated incredulously, as if he had claimed that it was perfectly natural to eat cake for dinner every day. "She wants to honour her father. She wants to perfect what he taught her."

She tried to make him see that their path was the most reasonable, but the statement only made his eyebrows lower into a hard line.

"Aye. Her father," he said. "The curse of every youngling. Tell me, how has her father honoured her, or you for that matter?"

Hanah gaped. "What?"

He closed the short distance between them and spoke lower to prevent people from overhearing their conversation. "He left you alone in that house, unprotected, to be prey for the Brage's who see enemies wherever they turn. Letting you come here on your own, fending for yourself."

"You don't know what you're talking about," she breathed, averting her eyes. She looked to where Hemery and Dwalin were putting together his boxes and wrapping his sheathed weapons in cloths. Lord Fíli's voice was very close now.

"I know he didn't make anything in that shop of yours, however forcefully you may claim otherwise. He may have taught you how to make a nice coat, but you're the one who made it great. You."

She did not know what to say.

"And you had to make that trip from Blackwater alone with Hemery, while you were hurt, and while you carried—" He stopped himself and took a slow breath.

Hanah froze, wondering what he had been about to say. While she carried what? Did he know she had lost a child after coming to Dale? Had Dwalin told him? Hanah did not have time to reflect over what other humiliating, intimate issues of hers he may be aware of because he was speaking again.

"Don't let a husband who's off nobody knows where, doing Mahal knows what, dictate your behavior and how you spend your time."

Hanah felt as if an ice fist squeeze her chest.

"You can choose to respect your husband, but you don't have to honour him," he added.

Hanah's hands grew cold.

Lord Fíli thought the peltmaster was her husband? Of course, she had never given him reason to believe otherwise. She had been under the impression, or feared rather, that everyone thought she was very young, which had led to her lie about the death of her father in the first place. She had thought no one would hire a girl to do a peltmaster's work.

Hanah was indeed within reasonable age to marry, but then who did he think Hemery was? Did he not realize that Hemery could not possibly be her daughter? Perhaps he thought Hemey was her step-daughter, a child from an earlier marriage?

Lord Fíli thought the child she lost had been the peltmaster's, and assumed they were married. It all seemed too strange to Hanah, she would have laughed had she not been so perplexed. She had half a mind to let him continue believing it. If people thought she was married, it would give her more protection. However, when time passed and no husband appeared, the lie would prove equally useless as a peltmaster who was never in his shop.

And it did not sit well with her to lie to Lord Fíli—her employer, and one of the few people who had ever treated her with kindness and respect.

She drew breath to refute his assumption, but when she turned he was gone.