Tharan sits at the desk in his study, sketching ideas for new designs, when he hears the familiar footsteps of his personal assistant coming down the hall and a timid knock. “Come in, Dorië.”
“Apologies for the interruption Master Tharan, but we’ve just received a rather… lengthy commission request from a human woman named Alkara from Three Rivers. She says it’s urgent.”
Tharan looks up and blinks in surprise, “A human?” And not nobility. “Is she present?”
“She delivered the commission request personally just now. However, I informed her that she would likely have to wait some time for a reply and bade her return home.” He shifts uncomfortably. An unusual move Tharan knows wouldn’t be made in the presence of others. “She said that she would be back tomorrow.”
Tharan looks impassively at Dorië, though inwardly his interest is piqued. The slight rise in Dorië’s eyebrows [belies] Tharan’s impassivity. The tiniest of smiles must have graced his mouth. “Really? Well let’s see this commission then.” He takes the thick packet and rifles through it. As he sifts through the pages he sits forward, his curiosity stoked further.
Typically, it takes months to process a commission request, not in small part due to Tharan being particularly selective about his clientele. But this… He rifles through more pages. This woman had included most of the information ahead of time, as well as references for that which she could not include herself. But how had she known? And why had she commissioned him, of all the ForgeMasters in Afanen, for arrows in the first place?
Tharan pauses and turns back to Dorië. “Dorië, I apologize for asking, but would you mind waiting for me to finish with this before leaving? You and your family are welcome to join me for dinner.”
Dorië bows, “It is no trouble at all Master Tharan. My life-partner and children have previous engagements this evening. It would be my honor to join you.”
Tharan nods solemnly, “Thank you. Please notify Leä that you will be joining me for dinner. I have a feeling we’ll need to move quickly with this one.” His lips twist in amusement, “Especially if she said she’ll be back tomorrow.”
The next day, Alkara walks up to the gate of the large elven home built into the side of the mountain. She looks up and down the path she’d taken to get here. It’s utterly bizarre. She doesn’t understand how building into a mountain like this is even possible, let alone with this degree of elegance and beauty. She eyes the two elven guards in breastplate flanking the door and takes a deep breath, then lets herself in through the gate.
They stop her at the door, like last time. After a brief interchange, one knocks on the door and they’re left to wait for an answer. They look at Guen as though she were an expected escort rather than the great cat she is. Different guards but of course they were told about her. She looks back at the door as she hears it opening, really hoping it isn’t the same stuffy elf who’d been there yesterday.
It is.
“Good morning Miss Alkara.” Dorië says as he bows. He holds out a letter, “This is for you. Master Tharan regrets that he is unable to meet with you today, but requests that you return in two weeks’ time, as detailed in this letter.”
Alkara’s eyes widen as she takes the letter, “Two weeks! But this is urgent! Doesn’t he–?”
“It is due to the urgency of your situation that Master Tharan has seen fit to meet with you so quickly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to which I must attend. Good day.” He firmly shuts the door.
Alkara’s cheeks burn and she grinds her teeth. She turns to find one of the elves is rubbing Guen’s belly as the cat lay on her back. Some guard. Alkara stalks through the courtyard, out the gate, and back down the mountain road, Guen following with a low growl.
The elf woman had said he was busy. Two weeks though. She shakes her head. Might as well take advantage and see what else she can find here in Afanen. And maybe even over in Caerswë. She’d heard they had good protection magicks…