Iron and Oak - Short Stories for Rainy Days

Girls and Boys

The slamming door shook the four windows that ran across the front of the little house built into the mountain. 

"What's wrong with him?" Kelylah demanded, her blue eyes sparking with ire. "I'm not expecting him to kiss the prince!"  

Esja struggled to keep her face straight.  

"Mother, don't laugh," Faelyn admonished as she stood and started gathering dishes from the dinner table.  

"It's not fair!" Ki screeched, rushing to her room and slamming the door.  

Esja dared a glance at her oldest daughter, Fi hummed to herself as she stacked cups and turned toward the washbasin. "Don't you want to go?" 

Thorin's own blue eyes peeked back at her over Fi's shoulder as she answered. "I'm not sure I'd like meeting royalty. It seems silly to me that so much is made over someone who has done nothing but been born well." she started pumping water into the basin, "Did you ever meet a prince? When you were young, living in Erebor?" 

Esja looked back down at her partially eaten dinner and pushed the plate away. "I did." 

Her daughter's head came up and she turned around, one hand still on the pump. "Why didn't you tell Ki? Why did you let father rail at her and tell her no?" 

"Because she's only nineteen." 

Fi considered this, "How old were you when you met a prince?"  

Esja smiled, "Six, the first time." Her smile widened at the rolled eyes and she waited until Fi had turned back to her dishpan before adding, "I suppose you'd be more interested in the part that includes me returning to live with his family when I was twenty-six?" 

Faelyn paused in her washing, "You've never spoken of it." 

"I know." 

She turned back to face her mother, "Because father wouldn't like it?" 

Esja smiled, "Your father was there too." 

Fi shook her head and turned back to the dishes, "Next thing you're going to tell me is you could have married the prince and instead you chose the blacksmith." 

"Maybe I chose the prince, but the blacksmith chose me." 

Fi laughed, "I can't imagine father letting you walk away with some, what did he call him, some hunch-backed, inbred, disease ridden ingrate. And that was the last great king under the mountain, he was talking about. If he has such disregard for King Thorin, I can't imagine a minor relative of King Dain is going to fare too well in his book." 

"I think he's regretting taking you both to Dale." 

"I told him not to brink Ki, unless he was hoping to get rid of her." 

Esja brought a stack of dishes and set them by her eldest daughter, "What did he say when you told him that?" 

"He said he wanted her to see what a city was really like. I could have told him that was just what she wanted but he would not have believed me. Sometimes he only sees what he wants to, you know?" 

Esja smiled, "I may have noticed that, the last year or so." 

"Has he always been like that?" 

"No darling, he used to be much worse." 

Fi laughed, "As if that was possible," she paused in her scrubbing and asked, "Is he very angry with her?" 

"No, he's worried." 

"Why?" 

"Because he knows what a dwarf prince-ling has in mind when he flatters a nineteen year old girl." Esja laughed. "Now, you go calm Ki and I'll finish here." Esja washed the dishes, lost in memories, the clang, clang, clang, hiss now sounding from the stable punctuated her thoughts. Finally setting her apron aside, she walked slowly to the stable, snowflakes sifting through the air.