Chapter 62
Thorin shook his head, again. “I will accept your commissions, Marchwarden. Griffin blades, first. Then… your fighting daggers. If you survive Harry’s training, I’ll even make the four of you, battle versions of Harry’s Griffin blades.” He paused and turned to Harry. “Which reminds me… I have yet to make you a set worthy of your Mastery.”
“Maybe you might want to rethink that.” Harry grimaced. “Harden is pushing for me to Trial for a Grand-Mastery with them.”
“Two sets of Grand-Master’s blades…” Thorin whispered, his eyes wide. “Oh, my cousin Dáin will be so jealous…”
~~~
December 18th 2925
“Well…” Thorin muttered to himself, as he lifted the last Griffin blade from the oil. “All they need now is the timber and wire inlay for the hand-grip.” He paused and frowned. “These are only practice weapons, they don’t really need a wire inlay, leather grips would work just as well.” He laid a blade on the work bench and reached to undo his apron, he needed to visit Mr Caplin, the tanner, to get a small hide. He had eight hand-grips to strap. Only then could he concentrate on crafting the daggers that the Marchwarden had commissioned. Who would have ever guessed that an elf would come to him to have weapons forged?
~~~
December 29th 2925
Thorin laid the dagger blade beside its partner, on his work bench nodded to the elf. “That’s the blades, themselves, done. Does he have a timber preference for the hand-grips?”
“He doesn’t, but I do.” Rendarion said, before laying a small-ish block of Mallorn wood on the bench. “He doesn’t know that I have carried this from Lothlorien.”
“That’s… Mallorn? Yes?”
“It is. Part of a branch, fallen from the tree that holds our home.”
“Fitting.” Thorin nodded. “From the home, as well as the heart. To remind him exactly what he’s fighting for.”
“Yes.” Rendarion nodded. “Is that a large enough piece? Will you get the two grips from it?”
“Easily.” Thorin nodded. “From that I can get enough for these two daggers and possibly enough for two pairs of grips for Griffin blades.” He saw the doubt on the elf’s face and explained. “The grips for the Griffin blades are actually smaller than those needed for these daggers. That block is more than enough. With your consent, I would ask Fred and Gideon to assist me in crafting grips, scabbards and harness for these. Haldir wears a sword at his hip, perhaps these could be worn much like the Captains wear their fighting daggers? Across the back? Such a harness would be simple and easily adjusted, when he needs to carry a pack.”
“That would be fine.” Rendarion agreed. “But what of the Griffin blades? How does one carry them?”
“They aren’t the most elegant of weapon, when it comes to carrying them.” Thorin huffed. “Harry wears one on his left upper-arm and one on his left thigh.”
“Why? How? Why both on one side?”
“He wears a series of six throwing knives on his right thigh, so he need only drop his hand and a knife is in reach. And his fighting daggers are worn over the shoulder.” Thorin answered. “It means that a Griffin blade can only be on his left. He need only drop his hand and the blade is right there, hilt-up, ready for him to grasp.” As he explained, he held the Griffin-blade-shaped timber blank in each position to demonstrate. “The one on his arm is hilt-down, so he only has to reach across his chest and it’s in his hand, ready to use.”
“Oh.” Rendarion blinked. “Oh, I see. Yes, that makes sense.”
“Now, the fitting?” Thorin tilted his head, as he studied the elf. “I have the impression that you do not wish the Marchwarden to see these before they are complete?”
“No. No, I do not.” Rendarion shook his head. “He has no idea how long it takes a dwarf to forge and complete daggers like these, and I would much rather him not know that they are complete, until they are placed in his hands. I certainly don’t want him to know that I have provided Mallorn wood, until then.”
“Fair.” Thorin grunted. “I’ll talk to Fred and Gideon and get an estimate of time from them. Drop by tomorrow or Friday and I’ll have a rough time, for you.”
“Your work and understanding are greatly appreciated, Master-smith.” Rendarion gave Thorin a shallow bow, before turning and leaving the forge.
~~~
January 14th 2926
“They are complete, Master Healer.” Thorin laid a carefully wrapped parcel in Rendarion's hands. “One pair of fighting daggers. I kept back the rest of the timber for the Griffin blades’ grips. When you’re ready, of course.” He watched as the elf undid the soft velvet cloth and spread it out on the work bench between them.
“Your work is…” Rendarion was nearly speechless, “… exquisite…” He was accustomed to elaborate and highly decorated blades and hand-grips that most elven smiths produced. However… these blades were completely undecorated by etching or inlay, allowing any blemish or flaw to show clearly. But there were none. The metal was flawless.
The design was simple, yes, but that didn’t mean that the finished product was plain. It wasn’t. The blades had a typically elegant elven-like curve to them, on the cutting edge, at least. The back edge was divided into two sections, the tip half was bevelled and sharpened into a second cutting surface, while the hilt half was shaped into hooks. If they caught flesh, they would do as much damage as the cutting faces, possibly more.
Then there was the hand-grip. Again, simple with a light curve. The grip was inlaid with black-steel, contrasting brilliantly with the golden Mallorn wood. A nasty black-steel pommel-pike was somehow inlaid with fine splinters of Mallorn, that caught the light and seemed to almost glow from within.
“Truly, the work of a Master-smith.” Rendarion bowed to Thorin. “My husband will be speechless when he sees them.”
~~~
January 15th 2926
Rendarion smirked as Haldir just stared at the daggers sitting on the dark velvet cloth.
“… …” The sounds of the blonde’s shock amused the healer.
“What was that?” Rendarion asked.
Haldir’s head swivelled to look at the other elf. “… wha…?”
“Do you like them?”
Haldir’s head bobbed up and down. “… yes…” The sound was barely detectable, even by elven ears.
The sound of the suite’s door opening was loud in the near-silence. Tauriel and Legolas burst into the sitting room in a wave of sound. Sound that ended sharply as the pair saw the two blades on the table.
“…!” The two gasped in surprise.
“Is that them?” Tauriel asked.
“It is.” Rendarion smiled.
Legolas crept closer, his eyes wide. “I had no idea… No idea that the prince was that… that…”
“Look at the blades…” Haldir whispered. “There’s no adornment, nothing to take the eye away from any imperfections…”
“They look like…” Tauriel started but trailed off.
“Moonlight on still water…” Legolas whispered.
“What will you name them?” Tauriel asked.
“I… I don’t know…” Haldir shook his head, not taking his eyes off the blades.
“What about Fael and Gal-ithil?” Legolas suggested.
“Fael and Gal-ithil…” Haldir nodded slowly. “Yes…”
~~~
January 29th 2926
“I never thought I would ever see an elf with dwarven beads…” Dwalin shook his head. “Mind... I never thought an elf would want them.”
“I never thought I’d get a commission from an elf, either.” Thorin replied.
“And the hobbit?” Gloín asked, nodding at a laughing Bilbo Baggins as he danced with a barely toddling Calypso Lupin standing on his furry feet.
“Better than I expected.” Thorin answered. “Far better. Hand-to-hand is… not great, but good enough for an utrab bead and his sword work is little better, he tends to be a bit… wavy. However, I expect that with a more time, he’ll get a tarbûn for the latter, if he can get his swings under control. Staff, knife throwing and Field Healer’s aid? He’s good enough there for a tarbûn. Don’t think he’ll progress past that, though. Maybe knife throwing...” He shrugged.
“And wasn’t he trialling for knife fighting, too?” Dwalin asked.
“Aye…” Thorin nodded.
“How bad?”
“…humph….”
“That bad?” Gloín grimaced.
“No.” Thorin shook his head. “That good.”
“Good?” Dwalin asked.
“Tarbûnel.” Thorin whispered.
“What?!” Both of Fundin’s son squawked.
“I doubt Nori Ri could best him.” Thorin sighed. “But I can’t see our people accepting him as a Sigin’Tarbûnel and certainly not with less than three years training.”
“S-Sigin’Tarbûnel…?” Dwalin whispered.
“Aye…” Thorin sighed.
“Give him another few years, then.” Gloín suggested. “In the meantime backdate his tarbûn to the same summer that Lady Lavender got her Sigin’Tarbûnel. Offering a tarbûn to a hobbit would be well overshadowed by a Sigin’Tarbûnel’s Trial. That was back in… ’23(?)… wasn’t it?”
“Aye.” Dwalin nodded. “And mark him up as Tarbûnel, now. And plan for a Sigin’Tarbûnel for three(?) summers from now. That’d work.”
“It would.” Thorin agreed. “Spreading his beads out will go a long way towards our people accepting his skills.”
“You realise, that this will give us three knife fighting Sigin’Tarbûnels.” Gloín was rather smug. “And how many has Dáin got?”
“Humph...” Dwalin snorted. “You know right well he ain't got any.”
Gloín let his smile grow.
~~~
February 12th 2926
“Your Griffin blades.” Thorin laid a bundle in front of each of the four elves. “And your atrâb beads to go with them.”
“Beads?” Legolas asked, his attention forced away from untying his bundle.
“Harry named you as utrab, before Yule.” Thorin replied. “Yesterday, he had Nori Ri, Master Harden and Lady Lavender, as well as myself, watch your training session. We agreed that you’ve progressed significantly, enough to earn yourselves a tarbûn bead. Harry has also stated that while Legolas and Haldir, in particular have the fluidity to progress to a Tarbûnel, none of you seem to have the… innate sense of connection that a Grand-Master needs.”
“Still… Tarbûn…” Rendarion said. “That’s far better than I ever though to achieve. These blades are so different from what I’m used to and the moves for them require a lot more concentration than I expected.”
“That is why Harry believes that tarbûn is as far as you’ll go, with them.” Thorin explained. “Which is still better than most that Harry has trained.”
“Indeed it is.” Legolas agreed.
“Although, Mr Baggins seems to be doing quite well with them.” Tauriel countered.
“It will be interesting to see, just how far he goes.” Thorin nodded. “Two utrab beads, three tarbûn beads and a Tarbûnel bead. And now he’s adding the beads for Griffin blades.”
“Talking of beads…?” Rendarion asked. “What’s happening with Beadsmith Halphi's Trial?”
“Harry’s doing his Grand-Master’s Trial sometime soon, this year or next.” Thorin answered. “And Halphi will send out word that he intends to use that as part of his own Mastery Trial. Creating a set of beads for an entirely new skill-set is a fair Master's Trial. He and Harry designed the Master's bead that Harry wears, at present, but neither of them were particularly happy with what they achieved. As part of his Trial, Halphi will design a completely new set of beads. From Utrab to Tarbûnel and also a new faceting for a Grand-Master’s ring.”
“Please wish him success from us, as we will not see him before we depart.” Haldir spoke for the first time. “We have notified Harry and Isengar that will be departing with the dawn, tomorrow.”
“Yes, Harry informed me.” Thorin replied. “Hence my bringing these to you, this morning.”
“And what of the cost of them?” Haldir asked.
“These blades are no ordinary blades.” Thorin answered. “Forged by a Grand-Master, at the request of a Grand-Master for his journeymen…”
And with that the five huddled around the table. Let the haggling begin.
“… including the beads, each set of blades will cost Ç35, or §1, Ç10, or if you have sceptres with you.” Thorin summarised.
Haldir looked at each of his travelling companions and each of them nodded “Agreed… Assuming you have crowns to exchange with sceptres?”
“We do.” Thorin nodded. “Mr Bill Weasley and his wife, Lady Fleur, both worked for an guild that they called a Bank(?). Essentially, it is somewhere you can store your money safely, without having to carry lockboxes wherever you go. There’s more to it than that, but I must admit that I had little interest in their explanation. Gloín, on the other hand? He spent an entire day questioning them, before he was happy with the answers.”
“He is quite… exacting…” Legolas replied.
~~~
February 13th 2926
“Fare thee well.” Harry clasped the wrists of each elf and watched as they mounted their fractious horses.
“Safe travels.” Thorin added and raised a hand. “Namárië, ninye nilmo.” The traditional elven farewell in Quenyan, caught all four elves by surprise.
“Of course, he speaks Quenyan…” Haldir whispered, near silently, to his husband.
“Hush.” Rendarion chided, just as quietly before turning back Thorin and Harry. “Ve hanta an camtapsa-lya.” He held up a hand in reply.
“Navaer, Âr Dî i Aegais.” Legolas bowed to Thorin before turning to Harry and bowing again. “Farewell, teacher.” He gave them a smile and mounted his pale grey horse.
“Stay safe and keep practising,” Harry answered. “The next time I see you, I expect to update your ledger.”
~~~
February 27th 2926
“Harry?”
“Yes, Thorin?”
“You said that Harden is pushing for you to Trial for your Grand-Mastery in Griffin Blades, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Have you decided on a date?”
“No, not really.” Harry answered. “Why do you ask?”
“I was wondering if there was anyone that you wished to invite?” Thorin replied. “If so, it would be best to give them enough time to travel… however far they would need to come.”
“Not to mention, how long it would take a messenger to get to them.” Hermione added, as she sat down beside Harry.
“If you need messengers, may I suggest Fíli and Kíli?” Thorin said. “Fíli has just recently received a tarbûn bead for blacksmithing and has expressed a desire to take a year to travel, before he starts work towards his armorer’s beads. Kíli is a fletcher and carries a number of arrow bolts to work on at any given time. And therefore can ply his trade almost anywhere.”
“And where one goes, so goes the other.” Hermione nodded. “Sounds familiar.” She gave a sideways look at Harry.
“Add to that…” Thorin went on. “Halphi and his Trial. We’d like to put a call out to any beadsmiths, Halphi needs at least one Master Beadsmith to acknowledge his mastery. And I know of only two Master beadsmiths, Felton and Sílor. One is in the Iron Hills, while the other is somewhere in the south.”
“And what about Beadsmith Kasha?”
"Kasha is a tarbûn, not a Tarbûnel. Felton and Sílor both wear a Master's bead.” Thorin corrected. "Only a Master may stand in Judgement of another.”
"Ah.” Harry grunted. "I'm assuming Felton is in the Iron Hills, as last I heard, Sílor had migrated from Tavric’s in Dol Amroth to Barric’s camp, near Ethring.”
“And talking of Halphi?” Thorin nodded. “He has asked me to approach you, Kingsley and Isengar and inquire as to the purchase of a shop and home, here in the village. The availability, costs and conditions.”
“Conditions are simple,” Hermione was the one to answer. “He gives an oath not to talk of magic outside the village, unless it’s to or with someone that has also given their oaths.”
“And there’s a number of shops available,” Harry added. “It depends on how much space he wants and where he wants it. Much the same in regard to a home. There’s still a couple of large plots and a half dozen medium sized plots on West Hill, about a dozen small plots on North Creek Road. And we’ve laid out the markers for another dozen small plots, just north of Market Hill, beyond the hobbit smials.”
“I see…” Thorin blinked a few times. “He mentioned either one of the smaller artisan shops or one of the shop-sheds, both would provide ample space for a Beadsmith. As for a home? He didn’t say, although, there were would be just himself and his wife, Helva.”
“And does she have a trade?” Hermione asked.
“Aye, she’s a gem cutter.” Thorin replied. “Only a tarbûn, but like Halphi, she’s working towards her Mastery. She’s quite talented and I doubt that it will take her long.”
“Will she require a work space?”
“Well, now… I don’t know.” Thorin hummed. “Halphi didn’t say.”
“Right, well. I’d best go and visit Halphi and find out, then. Hadn’t I?” Harry asked.
“In the morning, Harry.” Hermione corrected. “We’re expected at you parents’ place for dinner, remember? It’s Monty and Rosy’s birthday.”
“But that’s not until six and that’s… what… two hours away?” Harry argued. “I can visit Halphi and be there by six.”
“With Jax? Dressed and ready?”
“Hmm…” Harry bit his lip and sighed. “No, probably not. Alright, tomorrow it is.” He turned to Thorin. “Once I’ve had a chance to talk to Halphi, we’ll sit down with Harden and sort out a date and the invites for our Trials. It’d be good to have Tavric and Sílor here. Maybe Barric? Oh, and what about Fundin?”
“Talk to Halphi first, Harry.” Hermione chided. “He might have other ideas.”
“Yes, dear…” Harry sighed, but he was still smiling as he spoke.
“Prat.” Hermione huffed.
Thorin said nothing, he was just happy that Harry and Hermione were comfortable enough around him to let their guard down and show their affection for each other.
~~~
February 28th 2926
“Master Harry? Uncle said you wanted to speak with us.” Fíli rubbed at his short moustache, while Kíli looked around Harry’s workshop with interest.
“Fíli, Kíli, welcome, come in. Let’s talk.”
“Aye.” The pair of princes replied together and as one stepped forward into the workshop.
“Thorin tells me that you want to do some travelling?” Harry asked Fíli, then looked at Kíli “And that you want to go with him.”
“Aye.” Fíli said. “Uncle and Mister Dwalin pushed me fairly hard, this last year. And I’d like to take some time to see the world before I begin my armorer’s apprenticeship. Places that I’ve only heard of. We’ve been to the Iron Hills, but nowhere else. I’d like to see the gates of Khazad-Dûm, maybe even the gates of Erebor.”
“Don’t tell Uncle about that last one.” Kíli cut in. “He doesn’t approve of Fíli’s interest. Says the time’s not right. What he’s waiting for, I don’t know.”
“I’ll stay quiet.” Harry assured them. “The reason I was asking, was that Harden is pushing for me to Trial for my Sigin’Tarbûnel bead in Griffin Blades and Halphi is planning on using my Trial to sit his own Mastery Trial. But for that he needs a Master Beadsmith, at least one, and Thorin only knows of Felton, in the Iron Hills and Sílor, who’s somewhere near Ethring, when we last heard from him.”
“Right… And…?”
“And Thorin suggested that if you wish to travel, that Halphi and I could have you deliver a few invites for our Trials.”
“Oh…” Fíli blinked a few times. “I could do that… Who to and where?”
“And have you decided on a date for the Trial?” Kíli asked.
“We’re thinking of March, next year.” Harry replied. “The 25th or 26th.”
“Aye,” Kíli nodded, “that would work. Give us enough time to get to Dol Amroth and enough time for those interested to travel north with us.”
“We wouldn’t miss your Trial.” Fíli added. “Not if we could avoid it.”
“Excellent, lads.” Harry grinned at the pair. “Halphi and Hermione are doing up the invites as we speak. So, all that’s left to do is to agree on a delivery price.” He raised a brow at Fíli.
“Well, now…” Fíli grinned back. “Are you thinking of a price per delivery or a total price?”
“I’ve only five invites.” Harry answered. “Trade-Master Tavric of Dol Amroth. Master Beadsmith Sílor, who I think it staying near Ethring. Masters of Knives, Barric and Forli.”
“And the fifth invite?” Kíli asked.
Harry’s grin turned smug. “Karol Black-Ear.”
Both Fíli and Kíli’s eyes went wide.
~~~
March 10th 2926
“Entlings?” Thranduil blinked at his son.
“Not just Entlings, father.” Legolas replied. “There’s also a Valar-gifted Wardstone, protecting the seedbed.”
“Oh, Nienna weeps…” Thranduil gasped. “Those that tend the Entling, welcomed you?”
“Welcomed us warmly, father.” Legolas nodded. “One of the dwarves is a Master of the Griffin Blade and he not only allowed us to train with him, but he also judged and assessed us, as he did his own people.”
“And would they welcome you back, if you were to return?” Thranduil was curious if the welcome was a one-off.
“We have a standing invite, father.” Legolas replied. “Anytime that we are in the West, we are expected to visit and stay a while.”
“I see…” But what exactly Thranduil saw, he didn’t say.
~~~
March 16th 2926
Galadriel blinked in surprise. “Entlings?!”She hadn’t even considered that Ents could have caused the Rippling that she’s Seen.
“Not just Entlings, my Lady,” Rendarion grimaced, “also… housed in the roots of an Entling is a… Valar-given Wardstone.”
The shock on both Galadriel and Celeborn’s face echoed the expressions that both Rendarion and Legolas wore when they’d seen the Stone. It was easily the size of a child’s fist, far larger than any recorded.
“You do not cause trouble for Ents.” Galadriel warned Celeborn. “Nothing good comes from troubling an Ent.”
~~~
June 15th 2926
“A Grand-Master’s Trial, you say?” An older dwarf was heard to say.
“Aye.” The young golden-haired dwarf nodded in reply.
“Grand-Master’s Trials are rare. Where’s it to happen? And when?” The older dwarf asked.
“The Whomping Willow’s Pond.” The young dwarf answered, causing an unseen and unknown dwarf to silently gasp, he’d heard part of that phrase before. “It’s on … eastern … … river… road… near… next.. ... twenty...” The location and date were drowned out by cheering from the other side of the barroom. “It’s a mixed settlement, hobbits and dwarves.”
Hobbits meant the Shire, right? The unknown dwarf was sure that he was right in thinking that.
“And one of the dwarves is ready for a Grand-Mastery?” A second older dwarf asked.
“Oh, Harry’s already got one Grand-Mastery, he wears a mithril ring for Knife-fighting.” The blonde dwarf answered.
“And Fíli’s sweetheart, Lady Lavender, wears a mithril ring for Axe-fighting. Master Harden gave her The Master’s Axe.” A young dark-haired dwarf added.
“The Master’s Axe?” The second older dwarf gasped. “The axe made by Durin the second?”
“Aye, that Axe.” The blonde dwarf was rather smug.
“And what of the public?” The first dwarf asked. “Will they be welcomed? To watch?”
“Aye.” The dark dwarf answered. “They’ve put together a proper training ground, with raised seats for spectators.”
“And the Gryffindor’s Den has accommodation, a certain amount, anyway.” The blonde dwarf turned to his brother and asked. “How many rooms have they got?”
‘Did they just say Gryffindor?!’ The unknown dwarf thought to himself.
The darker dwarf tilted his head and as he tried to remember. “Ten rooms that will sleep ten dwarves apiece, five that sleep five, six family suites and eight individual rooms. Oh, Squire and Vrdollen will let out space in the loft of one of the barns, too, in blocks of six square feet. As well as having livery stables and yards.”
“Is there an alehouse?” The first older dwarf asked.
“Aye, the Leaky Tankard.” The younger dwarf nodded. “Lady Tonks is their main brewer and her Fire-whisky is a must try.”
‘The Leaky Tankard, not the Leaky Cauldron?’ The unknown dwarf blinked.
The four chatted for a little longer before the two younger dwarves made to leave the tavern. Neither noticed that they were followed by a slender raven-haired dwarf, until he spoke.
“My pardon, gentle dwarrow.” The unknown dwarf caught their attention.
“Aye?” The darker dwarf spoke for he and his brother.
“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.” The unknown dwarf continued. “You mentioned Gryffindor? I’ve not heard that name for decades Could you explain how you know it?”
“Gryffindor’s Den?” Kíli replied. “It’s ran by Master Sirius and-.”
“Sirius? Sirius Black?!” The unknown dwarf gasped. “Sirius? Dark hair, steel blue eyes, barking laugh, fond of pranks?”
“Aye, that sounds like him.” The darker dwarf laughed. “He and his wife, Lady Dorcas are expecting their first child…? When, Fíli?”
“April just gone, Kíli.” Fíli answered.
“Dorcas?” The unknown dwarf reached out a hand to grasp at the wall of the tavern. “Caramel skin, dark brown eyes, curly black hair, bluntly spoken, fond of berating Sirius and his friends?”
“Oh, aye, that’s Lady Dorcas, alright.” Fíli laughed. “She went after Master James and Mister Remus the day before we left. Something about feathers and honey and cushions that make rude noises?”
“Oh, dear Lord…” The dwarf slumped against the wall. “Potter and Lupin. Of course, they’d end up wherever Sirius landed.” He muttered to himself.
“None of their Lady wives were pleased about it.” Fíli continued.
“Wives? They’re married?” The dwarf blinked. “Who’d Lupin marry?” He was fairly certain Potter would have married Evans. But Lupin?
“Tonks, the brew-Mistress.”
“Tonks?” The dwarf huffed, he vaguely remembered seeing Andromeda and her daughter, visiting Gringotts. “Does her hair change to suit her mood?”
“Oh, aye. Usually, it’s a pink/purple. Clashes something dreadful with their son’s favourite teal.” Fíli snorted.
“Son? They have a son?” The dwarf whispered. “And he’s a metamorphmagus, too?”
“Don’t know that word.” Kíli shook his head. “But iffen you mean that they can change their hair colour? Then, yes.”
There was silence for a few moments, before the dwarf asked. “Where’s this village?”
“East-West Road, edge of the Brandywine River.” Fíli answered. “They’ve got a decent sized village, there.”
“Do they have a cartwright?” The dwarf asked. If Sirius and his friends were there, would he be welcomed?
“Not as yet.” Kíli sighed. “It’s one of the few crafts that they’re struggling to find.”
“Well, it looks like I’m heading north…” The dwarf sighed. “Good thing my lease is up, isn’t it?”
~~~
August 21st 2926
A pair of large wagons turned off the East-West Road and onto Road Street, before turning into the livery yards.
“Welcome to the Pond.” A scarred hobbit nodded to the dwarf driving the first wagon.
“Thank you.” The dwarf replied. “I’ve no idea how long I’m staying, that will depend on Sirius.”
“Master Sirius?” The hobbit blinked. “Not Mr Isengar or Master Harry?”
“No, Sirius gets first refusal.” The dwarf muttered.
“Well, then, you’ll find him at the Den.” The hobbit nodded to the north. “That big building up there.”
“Right.” The dwarf huffed. “Do I… How do we do this? I’ve not used a livery before.”
“Iffen you want your ponies stabled,” the hobbit answered, “you fetch out your personal belongings and I take your ponies and wagons. I put your wagon out the way and unhitch the ponies. Unharness them and wash ‘em down, before stabling and feeding them from the barn’s stores. Costs you four sovereign per wagon, up to four ponies per wagon. You don't access the wagons again until you're ready to leave, meaning you need somewhere else to sleep for however long your stay is. Iffen you want assisted yard space, I show you to the yard allocated to you, you collect what you need immediately and I unhitch your ponies, wash and see to their feeding, using your feed. Then when you’re done for the day, you bed down, in your wagon, exactly as you would on the road or in the livery yards. Costs you two sovereigns per wagon, up to four ponies per wagon. Iffen you just want yard space, I allocate it to you and you see to your ponies, yourself. Costs you ten florin per wagon, up to four ponies per wagon. All prices are per night.”
“I think assisted should be fine.” The dwarf said. “As I said, not sure yet, how long, but I should know fairly quickly, so let’s say... Three nights to start with, more as needed.”
“Right, then.” The hobbit nodded. “This way.” The hobbit lead the dwarf through the livery yards and between a pair of huge barns, into a decent sized, well fenced field. “This is you. Yard nine. You can access it through the livery yard or that road there is the Crafter’s Loop, it meets up with Little Pond Lane. You can get a street map from Mister Remus, the Den or from the Mayor’s office, costs a ten-pence.” The yard was large, easily a quarter of an acre.
“Thank you.” The dwarf jumped down from the drive-seat and pulled a small satchel from under the seat. “This is all I need right now.”
“Then can you leave your ponies in our hands, they’ll be well tended.” The hobbit looked at the wagons. “Do you have a preference for where the wagons are placed in the yard?”
“Not really.” The dwarf answered. “A little privacy would be appreciated, though.”
“Over in the corner, then?”
“That would be fine.” The dwarf answered. “How do I get to The Den?”
“Right on Crafter’s Loop, right onto Little Pond Lane. Right again, onto Pond Lane, cross the bridge and you’ll see it to the north.”
“Thank you.” The dwarf pulled out his coin pouch and handed over a golden crown. “Keep the change, as thanks for the information.”
“Thankee, sir.” The hobbit grinned, his scars pulling one side of his mouth higher than the other.
The dwarf threw his satchel over his shoulder and headed off to confront his past.
It took asking a few people, but finally he stood in front of a door that, opened into Sirius’ office. His hand was shaking when he lifted it to knock on the door.
“Come in.” The voice was exactly as he remembered. His shaking hand pushed the door open and he waited for the reaction he knew was coming.
It took a few more seconds before Sirius lifted his head to see who had entered his domain, only to not see anyone. The older dwarf looked around the room before looking at the door.
“What?!” Sirius gasped.
“Hello, Sirius.” The dwarf gave a hesitant smile.
“You’re dead.” Sirius’ voice was flat.
“It seems rumours of my death, have been greatly exaggerated, brother.” Regulus grimaced.
~~~