"Marryn," Haban said for the second time.
Marryn continued to stare out the window, nervously unpicking the seams of an emerald coat.
"Marryn," the old tailor repeated himself louder.
"Huh?" Marryn asked, snapping back to attention.
"You've nearly unpicked the whole jacket, dear," Haban said, "A few more minutes and you would've taken apart every garment in the shop."
Marryn set her work down and slouched.
"I apologise, sir. I suppose I've been distracted," the young woman mumbled.
"Waiting for the mail, I don't doubt," Haban said, raising an eyebrow.
Marryn's mouth dropped agape and her gray eyes widened. "Sir?" she stammered.
Haban squinted his eyes and chuckled jovially.
"Come now," the old man said, "Gossip of the feast has spread even to those not in attendance, my dear."
Marryn grinned sheepishly.
Haban continued his embroidery. "A dwarf, eh?"
"His name is Thorin," Marryn said, "He is a friend."
"No mere dwarf," Haban said, "but a dwarf prince, no less."
Marryn sighed at his words. "Yes. I doubt he will write. He is certainly too busy to bother with some commoner from Dale."
"I would not lose hope just yet," Haban said, pointing one withered finger at the window behind her.
A young man with a leather bag was upon the doorstep, preparing to knock.
Marryn rose slowly, trying to appear unaffected. She opened the door and collected the letters from the messenger. Coming back into the workshop, she shuffled through the letters, placing most on Haban's desk.
"Orders, orders, payments, payments, orders," Marryn's heart leapt when she found the last letter addressed to her.
She held it up to show her guardian, a blush and a smile spreading over her face.
"Go on then," Haban said with a grin, "Not too long, though. That jacket is due tomorrow morning."
Marryn left quietly. Haban snickered as her calm footsteps turned into an excited sprint.
Marryn tore open the letter, hands shaking slightly.
My Lady Marryn,I know it has only been two days since our meeting and I hope I do not seem overly eager. I have been able to think of little else since my return besides what I might write to you.A group of jewelers will be making a trip to market on the fifteenth. It is my plan to accompany them and I hope to see you there.Life in Erebor is much as it has ever been. The kingdom is abuzz with news of a visit from King Thranduil of the Greenwood. None but my grandfather knows when he and his elvish company are due to arrive.
This Haban of yours is something of an unsung hero of my people. Cousins of mine swear that his garments make them taller through magic. I've been pressed into finding out if this is true.I hope you are well and I look forward to our next meeting.
Thorin