27th of Sundus, Year 385 of the 4th Age
Standing in the doorway is a creature of great stature, towering over even Hope, donned in a brown dress and crusty faded white apron. The creature faces the halfling before it, eyes narrowed as it gives a bull like snort. Tyrion reaches for the knife in his boot as he looks over the face in the shadows; tanned skin with drooping ears, minty green eyes and pinkish hair in a short braid, a thick ringed septum piercing dangling from its nostrils.
"Whadda you-" It stopped mid-sentence, focusing on Tyrion. Minty eyes widen; a breath drawn behind a covered mouth. Defensiveness fades as the creature kneels to Tyrion's level. "...Is it really you, Young Master?"
The halfling's apprehension melts away instantly, and he takes the creature's hand. "Belle...What are you doing here? Where's Frida?" The creature squeezes his hand, a solemn expression forming on her face.
"Young Master Finn, I'm sorry. I wish ya'd come sooner. Lady Summerwind, she-" At that moment, she looks up to the rest of his party. "Forgive me, sir. We shouldn't discuss this among strangers."
"They're friends, Bellamina...Perhaps we should step inside." Tyrion stands upright, Bellamina stepping aside with a nod.
"Come in then, friends of my young master. S'not much, this house, but 'tis home." In steps the party, Bellamina looking down the road before following them in. "So...Where to begin?" They stand in a miniscule foyer. To the right is a front room with spacious openings on the west and north side, opening toward the party and a kitchen respectively. To the left is a small staircase and a singular door likely leading to an entertainment room or washroom. The house is dark, no lights on as far as they can see.
"I've so many questions, starting with the question of why you're here. Not to mention where Frida is. I saw my father in Mysthaven and-"
"Oh no." Bellamina steps further into the darkened house, quiet as a mouse, before passing from the entrance hallway into the kitchen. "I take it you saw his new bride, then?" She fills an old kettle with water and attempts to light a fire under the stove.
"That I did. So you've heard of her, then?" Tyrion assists with the fire while Amadeo sets softly glowing lights around the room.
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Bellamina looks up at the lights, momentarily startled, but nods her head. "Aye, sir. Six months ago, he suddenly announced he was getting married again-"
"What happened to Mother? Surely he's not married to two women at once!" Tyrion interjects, the fire under the stove crackling to life.
"Well..." Bellamina sets the kettle on the stove and sits down with a deep sigh, hands shaking as her eyes begin to water. "I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't protect her."
"Tell us what happened, Belle." Tyrion sits across from the old cowfolk, leaning forward and listening intently. He takes them in his own and gives them a soft squeeze.
"Yes, sir." She breathes slowly, taking in long breaths. Hope nudges Anna and gestures to a window in the front room, while the devilkin stands at a window facing out of the kitchen. The dark elf moves to the front, standing off to the side so she can look out whilst not giving herself away.
"It all went down about eight months ago, not long after you returned from wherever they sent you. Master-...Lord Autumnsong suddenly told me to get lost. Forty of my best years in your family's service, and he says he no longer needs me, seeing as I was your caretaker and you weren't around no more. Throws me out in the street with nothin` but the clothes on my back and anythin` I could fit in a case. Well knowing what I knew, I didn't want to stray too far from the Mistress, so's I hit on the idea to contact your lovely Lady Frida. She allowed me to stay here and act as her servant. Though she had no real money to pay me-"
Tyrion scoffs "How is that possible? Her family wasn't loaded, but they left her enough to get by, and as my wife, she should have had access-"
"You were in prison, Young Master, and your father's reach is long. He convinced the courts that the marriage was invalid as I was your only witness, and he produced paperwork saying I was incompetent and unfit as a material witness to any ceremony to prove it. In the eyes of the law, you and Lady Frida were never truly married. I'm sorry, sir, but she never saw a pence. Her own finances were drained trying to fight the courts, and what little we each make as peasants wasn't enough to make up for it. Hence, the reason for the roof collapsing on the upper floor, as I'm sure you noticed."
"Gods. I'm so sorry, Belle. I should have stayed, but I-"
"Don't go blamin` yourself, Young Master. You did what you felt you had to. I don't blame you for wanting to get away...Leaving without saying goodbye to the woman who loved you so much it nearly killed her to not see you again, I blame you for quite thoroughly."
"Frida...So what happened to her? Or Mother for that matter?"
Bellamina's ears perk up as the kettle begins to whistle. She stands and removes it from the stove, placing some sweet smelling leaves within the kettle and turning again to face Tyrion. "About a month after your father threw me out, Lady Breia came to us with terrible news..."