Eorling Mead Hall [Archive] - Page 3 - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Taralphiel

08-26-2006, 10:01 PM

The floorboards were cold and damp, and Lys shivered. It was not with discomfort that he looked at his feet pressed to the floor, but joy. Lys had made almost a full recovery since being brought into the Meal Hall. The gash on his head had healed, and only a small scar near on eyebrow remained. He had recovered enough to sit up in bed without his ribs giving out jutting pains, and all that was left for him to discover was the healing of his ankle.

Hrethel stood nearby, gently patting his hips. He smiled over at the boy, watching his nervous expression. He chuckled and cocked out his knobbly elbows, wriggling them and saying with a wink “I may not look strong, but I’ll give my best should ye fall! Now don’t be nervous, young Lys! Your ankle is strong and healed well! All that should remain is a limp and a pain, and I’m afraid both will linger given how poorly ye came to us…”

Lys took a last look up at Hrethel, before placing his hands firmly on the small mattress and pushing off. Pressing and straightening his knees, he felt a momentary panic before he found he was standing quite prefectly on his own. Hrethel had not moved to catch him, but stood and clapped, nodding and bending to peer at how Lys stood on his poor foot. Lys smiled, and began to take a few more steps, before his legs began to shudder, and he let out an involuntary wince. This would be the lingering pain, Lys thought quietly. It was manageable, and Lys was grateful for that. Turning carefully on that foot, he faced Hrethel and beamed.

“Thank you Hrethel! I have no means to repay you, save a deep wish in my heart to help you in any way I can. I hope I can be of service to you in some way…”

Hrethel gave Lys a gentle pat on the shoulder and and pointed to the door, holding out his arm for Lys to take. “For now, young man, you can walk with me and help me find Master Thornden! I am sure he will be happy to see you up and about. And as ye’ve told me no fewer than a handful of times, he owes you for a missed dinner outing!”

Lys bit his lip as Hrethel mentioned this ‘dinner outing’. True enough, Thornden had been unavoidably taken from his promise. That evening was hard on Thornden, and after all the nightmarish weeks Lady Linduial was captured, Lys could not hold blame to him very long. Still, his disappointment could not be contained. He had told Hrethel about how much he had wanted to be seen out of his room. Out and about with people that had only known him as the ‘sickly boy in Thornden’s care’…

This thought lead Lys into a cascade of others about the kind man that had rescued him. Thornden had sat along with him and cared for him quietly. Always listening when needed, always keeping Lys informed of all the events of outside. Rarely did Thornden asked questions that were hard for the boy, and this relieved him greatly. Since Thornden had found him broken and bundled in his fine quilt, Lys had not remembered any of his past, nor any more of the events that left him in that state. And now, a month or more later, Lys had now resigned himself to gladness. Whatever his mind hid from him, must be hidden for a reason.

The door creaked open, and Lys noticed the bustling of the regular worker’s about the Mead Hall. Lys smiled as the young lady that brought his meals briskly walked past. She slowed and grinned widely, nodding respectfully to Hrethel. Lys couldn’t help an overjoyed laugh as he turned from her, and headed in the direction of the hearth.

“All the Hall will marvel to see the young lad we’ve kept hidden up in his room. I say you looked like a broken boy’s toy when I first set my healing eye on you. Now, it does this old heart good to see such happiness on your face…”

Lys slowly pressed foot to floor, as he began to learn the sensation of walking again. But it took only a small time for him to get weary. Taking the young boy to sit on a small bench enough for them both, Herethel sat by Lys and patted his knees contentedly. “Aye, a fine day! We shall make a small trip of it, you and I. I cannot see Master Thornden about, but he shall return yet! For now, let us enjoy the sun!”

With that Hrethel began to give Lys a small tour of the Mead Hall, complete with an ending in the courtyard in the sun. This seemingly small trip took the two a fair while, and not for that reason of Lys alone. There were more complaints from the healer about sore bones than from his patient.

Lys sat in the sun and breathed in deep. It felt wonderful to have the full sun on his face and the smell of baked bread wafting into his senses. He felt freedom like he had never remembered it before. And for some reason, that did not lead him to despair. Strange comfort was all he could feel.

littlemanpoet

08-27-2006, 02:41 PM

Falco led Garmund into the tangle of brush and trees. Vines crossed from tree to tree, making for a thick tangle that reached at least twice as high as Thornden's head. It was not easy going, even with the remains of a path. In point of fact, somewhat to Falco's mild suprise, the path seemed to be less overgrown than he expected.

"Ah! There. Have a look at that, Garmund!"

"It looks like a little bit like Náin," Garmund said.

It was true, after a fashion. It was a stump of grouted stone, or rather layer upon layer of old, old stone with the grouting slowly by slow age rotting and falling away.

"Or a little like an old giant's chipping molars and gums, only sideways," Falco said. "And there's more of it over that-a-way." Falco pointed.

Vine strewn and matted with moss, the dwarvish looking stone column before them grew into a wall of varying heights to their right. Garmund got his hands into the middle of it, touching the old stone, and looked back at Falco.

"How far in does it go?"

"Let's have a look. The path leads that way."

As they passed beyond the first wall, Garmund in the excited lead now, Falco thought that he caught something moving out of the corner of his eye, but a second look revealed nothing. Maybe Thornden's looking over that way and I caught but a glimpse of him. But that didn't seem right. Probably nothing. Falco shook off the jibblies and followed Garmund.

littlemanpoet

08-27-2006, 03:09 PM

"Explain your arrangement with the Lady Saeryn, Eodwine." Lothiriel the queen was seated in a chair lined with soft furs. Waterbowls in which floated flower petals, lit beneath by candles, rested upon small wooden tables in each corner of the room, filling the air with the warm fragrance of mixed rose, lavender, and apple.

Eodwine was standing before her alone, her ladies in waiting having been dismissed. He was suddenly very ill at ease, having expected thanks for rescuing Linduial, only to be confronted with this.

"She is," he paused, "my apprentice in the mead hall, doing all the things a Lady has authority to do."

"All things?"

Further discomfited, Eodwine wondered what the queen was implying.

"I beg your pardon, lady, but I fail to take your meaning."

"The Lady of a mead hall such as yours, Eodwine, would be understood to have wifely duties to perform to her lord's satisfaction. Does Saeryn perform these as well?" She held him with her eyes, having caught him off-guard with both subtlety and directness at once.

"No! I would never-!"

Lothiriel raised a hand. "The girl has no parents. It is known that you have made of yourself her guardian, which certainly is becoming of a man of your station. But it is said, Eodwine, that you treat her in all ways, seen by others, as a man treats she who is his betrothed. Eodwine, you cannot have it both ways. Are you the girl's stand-in father, or lover? What are your intentions?"

The situation had not been put to him quite in this way before. Seen in this light, it was obvious to Eodwine that things could not remain as they were. The queen was right. He was 'riding two horses into battle at once', as the saying went among the Eorlingas; and he had been blind to it.

"My queen, I have been a fool. And you have been most wise and discreet in showing it to me so pointedly yet gently." Eodwine relaxed, no longer on his guard; he had not been aware that he had been defending a castle, as it were, but having his confession off his chest made him see it. Not only had he been on his guard with the queen, but before all his household; for though he had not allowed himself to see the quandary of his position quite in the light Lothiriel had rightly shown him, he had known it to be the case deep down in the places of his mind where he put things he preferred not to see.

Lothiriel nodded once. "Foolish you have been, but wise to see it now. Folk do talk, and what they say is not what should be heard of the Eorl, true or not. What does your heart tell you, Eodwine?"

Eodwine imagined Saeryn in his arms; her eyes, full of love, looking into his, then closing as she drew near for a kiss. His blood heated with desire. Then he imagined her huddled by the hearthfire, wrapped about in furs against the cold, himself seated beside her, holding her gently as she leaned on him, trusting him completely; for tears slid down her face in worry for her brother Degas. He felt his heart go out to her in care and affection, with the protectiveness of a father; and he knew in his heart of hearts that it was right and best.

"My heart tells me to father her until she finds a suitable husband."

Lothiriel studied him before saying, "I did not advise you one way or the other, for I knew not which way your heart would speak. You would not be the first man of four decades to take a bride who could be his daughter, and both happy with the marriage."

"Yes, I know 'tis done, but when I think of her need first, the father comes to the fore in me."

"What if she feels otherwise, my friend?"

Eodwine allowed a small smile. The queen had changed the air between them with a word, 'friend'. "I know not, lady. What she feels may change over time, and I would not have her bound to a mouldering husband that she ceases to love."

"Although-" Lothiriel smiled.

"Although," Eodwine replied with increasing ease, assuming a more spreadlegged stance, his hands clasping behind his back, "as you suggest lady, she may grow in love for an elderly husband as the years live on. But I doubt me that she knows her own heart in the matter. Lothiriel, queen, I will tell her all my thought and ask her mind."

"I think you must. Now, if she says that she would espouse you, Eodwine, she cannot remain at the mead hall; she must come here."

The queen's words had come like a thunderclap. Eodwine stood stock still. Again, the queen was right.

"It is as you say, my queen."

After he had taken his leave of the queen, he considered. What did he want, Saeryn as beloved betrothed at a distance or as foster-daughter nearby? He did not want her at a distance, that much was sure; so it seemed that it was best to have her as foster-daughter. But what would Saeryn want?

Firefoot

08-28-2006, 05:31 PM

Before any conversation with Trystan could really be started, Thornden had come to the stables requesting horses saddled. Léof had smiled apologetically and left, and by the time he had finished Trystan was gone again. He shrugged to himself. It wasn’t as if there had been anything in particular that he had wanted to say.

His stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that he had yet to see to his own breakfast, but once more he was interrupted as a lad walked into the stables; Léof placed him at about twelve or thirteen years. “Excuse me,” said the lad, “but are you the ostler here?”

“That I am,” Léof confirmed as he approached the lad. “I am called Léof. Can I help you?”

He nodded. “My sister and I have just arrived… she’s waiting with the horses outside.”

“Then let’s relieve her of that duty, shall we?” said Léof, letting the other lead the way. “Will you be staying long at the hall?” he asked.

The lad answered vaguely over his shoulder. “A while.”

Léof asked no more until they emerged into the sunlight where, just as the lad had said, a woman waited with two horses. “Good morning,” Léof said and repeated his introduction. “Neither the lord of the hall nor his almbudsman is around at the moment, I’m afraid,” he continued, “but if you’re hungry, I’m sure the cooks would be happy to find you a meal, and if you’ll be wanting rooms or aught else, the Lady Saeryn can help you.”

Feanor of the Peredhil

08-28-2006, 07:34 PM

"I would accompany you, Modtryth, but it appears that guests have arrived and neither the lord nor Thornden are on hand to welcome them." Saeryn smiled, tilting her head toward the stables where a woman now gave her reins to Leof. "If you are willing, I would love to share evening meal with you and your family. If you'll excuse me?"

Without waiting for a response, Saeryn found herself beside the new woman. She caught her attention easily and clasped her hand, introducing herself politely and with a friendly wave to Leof and Trystan, now both inside with the horses.

"We are pleased that you join us for a time. How may I assist you?"

Folwren

08-28-2006, 08:13 PM

Medreth beamed a brilliant smile as Lèof came out and introduced himself. A right fine lad, she decided. She handed the reins over to him as he extended his hand to take them and stepped out of the way of the horses.

“If you’re hungry, I’m sure the cooks would be happy to find you a meal, and if you’ll be wanting rooms or aught else, the Lady Saeryn can help you.”

“Thank you, I don’t think we’ll either food nor room just now,” Medreth said. “But where could I find the Lady Saeryn that you mention? Is she the lady of the hall?”

“She’s coming here now, ma’am,” Lèof answered, nodding his head towards the hall. “She’ll take care of you.” He smiled and left, leading the horses into the stables. Medreth turned and saw the lady walking towards them, a small, welcoming smile on her face. She extended her hand as she approached.

“Welcome! I am Saeryn. We are pleased that you join us for a time. How may I assist you?”

“I am Medreth,” Medreth replied. “This is my youngest brother, Javan. We’ve come for a visit. My brother Thornden lives here. I wrote him a letter a few weeks ago, informing him of my coming. Is he around any place?”

Feanor of the Peredhil

08-28-2006, 10:00 PM

"I am afraid he's only recently gone, Medreth." Saeryn responded quietly. "He's off on an adventure with a halfling and a young boy, and may indeed miss lunch of all things, but with the bellies of a boy, a man, and a Falco Boffin, you can be sure they will return in time for dinner."

Saeryn smiled and hoped that Medreth would prove amiable. It seemed a certainty with the sorts of people that found themselves guests here, but the man and woman yesterday... Saeryn sighed at the memory. A lord and lady, visiting their Eorl. Their glances had been shrewd, sizing. They'd looked her top to toe, and Eodwine the same, and Saeryn had not missed the glances they'd shared. Tongues had been wagging in both the city and countryside, that was certain. But no, best not to think of it. Medreth was Thornden's sister, after all, and Javan his brother. Surely folk of the same stock as a good man such as Thornden would not be so... so wretched and assuming! Saeryn fumed and knew that nothing she could do could save her from gossips.

She'd briefly considered ways to protect Eodwine's honor, but her leaving was no such way, and nothing she could think of in staying would fix matters either. She sighed again before forcing her mind back to Medreth.

"I am sorry, my mind wanders. Please forgive me. Might I have the honor of finding you lodgings? Perhaps a meal? Breakfast is long over now, but Kara and Frodides will surely have something delicious on hand. Perhaps midday is even ready."

JennyHallu

08-29-2006, 09:28 AM

The messenger was near home, looking forward to his own home and wife and bed, when he rode into the busy courtyard of the Mead Hall. Only a few hours' more riding, and he'd be there, impressing his wife with the handful of silver he'd earned her, all for dropping four letters and a small package off in the hands of an old man here. He grinned to himself. There was, of course, no need for his wife to ever hear quite how pretty the young noblewomen who'd entrusted him with the letters had been, and how earnestly she'd given her directions.

He glanced down at the carefully written labels on each little packet. The woman's handwriting was graceful and flowing, and while the shapes of the letters held no meaning for him, as he'd never learned to read or write, he recognized the hand as lovely. He wondered fleetingly if it was difficult to learn, but set the thought aside. A frivolity, that would be, for a man such as himself. He needed no more than the word of mouth, such as had brought him news of his grandson, born to his soldierly younger son, who'd stayed in Gondor after the War of the Ring, with the pretty little dark-haired lass who'd snared him. Himself, he preferred blondes, but the babe was fair and healthy and long-limbed, and Imrahil had welcomed the young man into his own guard, into a prestigious position training his new cavalry...he thought of how pleased his wife would be at the news.

Quickly he shook himself back into reality. He waved off the young man from the stables, who had given him a quick inquisitive glance as he led two steeds away, and cast his eyes about for the man the lady had described. Dark hair peppered with silver, grey eyes, a strong but wrinkled face...the hair alone was enough to identify the man. Almost all the others in the yard were fair, and no one else carried this man's age. He rode towards and dismounted before the older man.

"Are you Marenil of Dol Amroth?"

The man nodded, standing stiffly. "Aye, goodman, I am."

"I bear these letters, then, from the Lady Linduial, who bids you greetings." He reached into his saddle bag for the package, and stacked the sealed missives neatly in his large farmer's hands before handing them to Marenil.

"My thanks," the man said softly, taking the letters and flipping through them, reading the delicate script, smiling at whatever was written on the package. "For your trouble."

Marenil dug in a pocket and pressed two more silver coins into the man's hand. The farmer sensibly did not protest that the lady had already paid him, mounted, and was off before Marenil could offer him refreshment.

Four letters, hmm? For Degas, Saeryn, little Leodern, and himself, and the package for Leodern. "That my dear squirrel might write me secrets" he read again with a smile. Her old copybook, then. So she still meant to carry through on her promise. Good. He sat back down. The hall was loud and busy, and a little more delay on delivery wouldn't hurt anything.

Folwren

08-30-2006, 10:31 AM

Gone! Medreth couldn’t help the look of surprise that sprang into her face. Her eyebrows shot up and her lips opened partially. But in a moment, when Saeryin sighed quietly, Medreth came back to herself. A slight blush rose to her cheeks as she sincerely hoped she hadn’t offended the young lady. But a swift glance told Medreth that Saeryin’s attention wasn’t on her at all and the sigh probably had not been connected with her sudden, obvious expression of displeasurable surprise.

“I’m sorry,” Saeryn said after a moment. Her eyes again came back up to meet Medreth’s. “My mind wanders. Please forgive me. Might I have the honor of finding you lodgings? Perhaps a meal? Breakfast is long over now, but Kara and Frodides will surely have something delicious on hand. Perhaps midday is even ready.”

Medreth smiled merrily. She took a liking to this girl, just a couple years younger than herself. “Don’t worry yourself!” she said brightly. “I’m sorry to hear they’re gone, and I hope they do return before dinner time - I don’t want to stay that late. But for now, I would be delighted to go inside. I’m not hungry now, thanks, but perhaps later, when the rest of you gather for the noon time meal.”

As Saeryn turned, Medreth fell into step with her. She gave a side long glance at Saeryn, her curiosity roused by this young woman. The boy who’d come for their horses had said ‘Lady Saeryn’. Medreth’s mind, quick to pick up on this sort of thing, instantly connected her with lord Eodwine. But somehow it was wrong. Eodwine, she had heard, was not a young man - he had fought in the wars some years ago. But Saeryn was scarcely twenty! Not that is mattered too much, Medreth decided in a side thought, but how odd. Were they indeed married? If not, were they intending to? If that were not even being considered, it gave Thornden a lovely chance. A secret smile played on Medreth’s lips and she turned her head and face away briefly. She just had to know. But she couldn’t be too obvious. A question about Saeryn and lord Eodwine surely would be considered an innocent one, considering their titles, and it appeared to be the best place to start.

“Medreth, wait a moment.” Javan’s voice broke into her thoughts before she could address Saeryn. “If you’re just going inside, could I stay out here and go in and talk to Lèof?”

“Lèof?” Medreth repeated.

“The ostler chap.”

“Oh, yes. Go ahead.” Javan turned and trotted to the stables, disappearing within. Medreth turned back towards Saeryn when he had gone. They walked forward. “The ostler - Lèof, I guess - told me you were the lady here. Are you married to lord Eodwine?”

Feanor of the Peredhil

08-30-2006, 12:28 PM

Saeryn froze in thought, not pausing at all in stride. Surely not another? Surely not again?

"No, madam, we are not wed. It is a common mistake. I am aware it may seem fairly confusing, but my position as lady of this hall is nothing more than an apprenticeship of sorts. The lord has sworn my protection and he gives me work befitting my station while I live within his home. It does not keep minds from wandering or tongues from wagging, but that is our arrangement nonetheless."

Celuien

08-30-2006, 04:52 PM

Garmund pushed through the brush, too eagerly wrapped in exploring the ruins to note the ease with which the vines yielded to his feet. Had he gone but a few feet to either side of his path, he would have been tangled in a deep overgrowth, untouched by any creature save maybe the squirrels and birds, for uncounted years.

The easy path ended abruptly in a screen of branches that hung in thick clusters before Garmund's face. He paused for a moment, puzzled. Had an animal made the path he had followed, it shouldn't have ended so quickly, and certainly not with this screen, which almost seemed to have been carefully draped in vines.

Garmund's excitement would not be stayed. He doggedly tugged at the branches and made an opening just large enough to allow Falco and him to pass. Garmund stepped through, and gave a sudden cry.

A round clearing stretched in front of him with a jagged stone wall at its center, curving into the remnants of a circle. Where the missing stones had fallen from the wall, they made mounds of earth and stone near the wall's base. All were thickly overgrown with the same vines.

But the ruin was not the only cause of Garmund's start. He ran to the center of the circle and pointed at the ground, where the remains of a campfire shouldered.

"Master Falco!"

The hobbit came through the screen of branches.

"Well, lad? Do you like the ruin?"

"Look! Someone has been here."

littlemanpoet

08-30-2006, 07:11 PM

Falco and Garmund heard a soft noise of movement off to their right. A very large man came around a corner of the wall. He was dark of hair and his beard was unkempt. His tunic and breeches were ragged and full of holes. He leaned from the waist to the left, with a great burden on his back, apparently a burlap sack, tied around his neck in what appeared to be overly thick thongs so that his hands were free; they held nothing. His feet were bare and very thickened.

"My place this," he said in a gravelly, apparently seldom used voice. "Who be you?"

Folwren

08-31-2006, 09:56 AM

Thornden in the Ruins

Thornden forced his way through the entangled underbrush, following the hobbit and boy as best he could. Soon after entering the thick growth, he struck upon a sort of path. It was hardly visible, to be sure, for the long, thin trailers of bushes and vines draped across it. But none of the stalks grew there, allowing anyone to pass easily with the growth brushing away from his legs as he went. Thornden felt almost sure that the other two had come down this way. Glancing to either side of himself, he thought they couldn’t very well have gone any other way. The thorns and vines were thick and prickly and would have been impossible for either Falco or Garmund to get through.

Walking quickly, he soon came to the screen of ivy and vines that cut forward progress off. He glanced down and saw the place where they had been forced apart to allow his two small companions through. He bent to enlarge it some, at least a little to give him some chance of passing through, and he froze suddenly in his action to listen.

It was a voice. A low, rasping voice. “My place this,” it said. “Who be you?”

It came from beyond the screen of vines, and the leaves were too thick to see anything through. Thornden quickly pushed and pulled away at the leaves and sticks to make the entrance a little larger before he forced his way through, bent over double. He emerged on the other side in a brief moment, squeezed and scratched. He blinked and pulled a prickly twig away from his face and hair. Then he looked up and once more he stopped all movement completely.

The stranger stood in full sight across the round clearing. Between him and Thornden near the exact middle of the space, Garmund and Falco stood, both staring at the man. The man’s eyes were fixed on Thornden, and Thornden’s eyes were fixed on him. They were roughly the same height, but in a single glance Thornden saw that beneath the tattered clothing, the man was broad and muscular.

As their eyes locked for a moment, Thornden saw a look of fear, and anger, spring into the man’s eyes. It was a like a fox who had been long hunted and finally, when it thought it was safe, caught up to again. Thornden’s breath caught in his throat and he remained very, very still. Would the stranger become violent and try to attack? If he thought he was cornered and in danger, he might try to defend himself without asking questions first. Would he speak again and give Thornden a chance to make it clear that they meant no harm?

Folwren

08-31-2006, 09:59 AM

Medreth

“An apprenticeship! What fun!” Medreth said, smiling from ear to ear and laughing. “Put’s you in a fine way of things, doesn’t it? And it helps lord Eodwine, I’m sure. I can see where most people go wrong on their assumptions,” she went on thoughtfully. “Many people have too much time and don’t spend enough of it thinking well of people. I’m afraid I’ve offended you.” She looked half worriedly at Saeryn. The slight flush of red on her cheeks did not escape Medreth’s notice. There was a short pause. They came to the hall and Saeryn led the way inside.

Medreth walked forward, looking around her with great interest. Saeryn went on ahead several paces before stopping and turning, waiting for Medreth’s attention to come back to her. ‘This all very awkward,’ Medreth said to herself as her eyes traced the room. ‘Thornden, how could you do such a thing? Run off for goodness knows why when you knew I was coming! What I am to do, or say, and who am I supposed to talk to?’ She finally looked back at Saeryn.

“I’m sorry to have come so unexpected and add some burden to you,” she said. “I’m sure you must be busy, but I told Thornden I was coming and I was expecting to see him, then you wouldn’t have had to worry about me at all! But now he’s gone.”

Feanor of the Peredhil

08-31-2006, 12:42 PM

"Oh please, dear, do not worry. I am neither offended nor burdened by you." Saeryn smiled, hoping that it would alleviate Medreth's worry. "I have several duties to fulfill today, but none immediately pressing and nothing of a nature that they could not be done while visiting or helping guests, or in your case and that of your brother, giving your relation to Thornden and my immediate like of you, friends."

Saeryn smiled again, leading toward the kitchen. She'd had a thought pertaining to the garden and wanted to hear Kara's thoughts on the matter. And to introduce new guests to the cooks first was only prudent, she thought with a hidden grin.

"Would you care to accompany me today? Or would you prefer to make your own way?"

Folwren

08-31-2006, 02:35 PM

Saeryn’s simple and open way of speech quickly put Medreth at her ease again. She quickly explained that Medreth would not get in the way of her duties. “Would you care to accompany me today?” she then asked, leading the way across the hall. “Or would you prefer to make your own way?”

“I should love to accompany you!” Medreth replied. “We’ve hardly met, but I’m sure we’ll get along capitally together. Besides, I’d feel embarrassed and awkward if I walked around alone,” Medreth admitted. “First, though, please allow me to put away this riding cloak someplace. I’m quite without need of it now and the day is already too warm for it.”

littlemanpoet

08-31-2006, 08:39 PM

Falco saw that the moment Thornden appeared in the enclosure, the man's face changed. At first the man had seemed gruff but curious, and not threatening. Now his face changed into a mask of fear and rage. Fear was apparently the stronger, for the man backed away and reached out a hand to the wall to steady suddenly unbalanced legs.

As he disappeared behind the wall through the way that he had come, it sounded as if something alive was in the burlap bag, something wanting to escape.

Falco did not wait a moment, but ran far more quickly than his gerth would have seemed to allow, to the way the man had left. He looked back when he had peered around the wall.

"Come!" He waved the boy and the man to follow him.

Thinlómien

09-01-2006, 08:41 AM

"Mum, have you seen Garmund?" Modtryth heard Cnebba's voice from the other side of the yard. Now who was looking for who...

The boy was looking at her with a rare serious expression. Lèoðern at his side was looking at least as grave. Modtryth let the food be - there was something more important now - and asked: "What is it now, dear?"

The children glanced at each other. "We are going to apologise to him." It was Lèoðern who answered. Modtryth nodded and then smiled at the children. She thought it was not a good idea to start intorregating them as they were already on their way to apologise. She knew she'd find out what had happened later.

"I have not seen him after breakfast time", Modtryth told the children. "But Garstan might know where he is. Let's go to him. And after the whole thing is solved, you'll get some lunch."

Normally Lèoðern and Cnebba would have run to the stoneshaper, but now they walked, setting their pace to Modtryth's. They heard Garstan working inside the new kitchen.

Stepping in, Modtryth greeted Garstan and then pushed the children forwards.
"Dad, have you seen Garmund?" Lèoðern asked.

Folwren

09-01-2006, 10:36 AM

The stranger had gone! He retreated behind the crumbling wall beyond Thornden’s. But what in middle-earth did that hobbit think he was doing? Falco ran forward to the wall and peered around it and then looked back and was actually beckoning to them to follow him.

“Come!” he called, waving his hand.

“Not on your life!” Thornden replied, standing stock still. “Garmund, get back here,” he ordered as the boy started forward, more sternly than he intended to. “Falco, what are you thinking? I am not going to go hunting that man! Not when I have you and Garmund with me. Garstan expects his son back alive and undamaged, and it’s not safe to go following him. We’ve disturbed him enough. I think we should go.”

littlemanpoet

09-01-2006, 03:01 PM

"Aye, you should stay," Falco retorted, "'tis you the man fears. He was almost kindly to the boy and me. Something about you being big I don't doubt. I'll not try to take Garmund from you, but I for one am going to find out what I can."

With that, Falco slipped through the opening in the wall and looked around. The woods were thick and closely hung with vines. A narrow path bent left and followed the wall on the other side of which he had left Thornden and Garmund. Quiet as a hobbit can, Falco crept down the path, keeping his eyes, nose, and ears as alert as he could. He'd marked that the man stank a bit, and sniffed the air for remnants of it: a man who hadn't bathed in maybe years.

The path left he curving wall and went straight toward the mountains. Two great firs stood ahead on each side of the path, which was still closed in by thick brush and overhanging trees. He crept to the edge of the fir trees and peered left, hunched over. More woods. He peered right. And met the knees of the man. He looked up. And fell on his back in wide eyed surprise.

"Who be you?" said the man.

"Aye, who?" said the other man that came out of the same pair of legs. For the man was one up to the hips, and split in two above, four arms and two heads. The burlap bag turned out to be the tunic of the new man. They were twins from head to hip, one man from hip to toe.

"Please don't eat me!" Falco squeaked.

Celuien

09-01-2006, 08:24 PM

"Can we go? Please?" Garmund stared in the direction Falco had taken, trying to pierce the dense trees with his gaze. "I don't think the man wants to hurt us."

"No! I will not have you running into trouble. Who knows how dangerous that man might turn out to be?"

Garmund's face set. "If he is dangerous, should we not go to help Falco?"

Celuien

09-01-2006, 08:26 PM

"Have you seen Garmund?" Lèoðern asked Garstan.

"Yes, I have. He has gone with Master Boffin and Thornden to see a ruin not far from here."

Lèoðern's face was suddenly crestfallen. "Gone?"

Garstan smiled. "Yes, gone. They are to return before nightfall and share the tales of the day with us over the meal. But, Lèoðern! What means this?"

Tears were trickling down her face, and her lip quivered. "Garmund left, and just when we were going to say we were sorry. He left us! And I'm sure he's not sorry at all."

Garstan shot a puzzled look at Modtryth and Cnebba before repeating his question.

"What means this?"

Folwren

09-02-2006, 08:05 AM

Thornden frowned and his jaw clenched. Yes, if the man was dangerous, then it would be up to him to go save Falco. But if he was only dangerous when Thornden was around, then it would do absolutely no good to go after him now. He felt half inclined to tell Garmund that they’d let Falco get himself out of the mess he’d gotten himself into, but he knew that he couldn’t do that.

The seconds dragged on into a minute, and then two. Garmund waited, a painfully rebuking look in his young face. Thornden finally made up his mind.

“I’ll go, Garmund, but you need to stay here. Whatever happens, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Celuien

09-02-2006, 10:11 AM

Another long pause followed Thornden's order to remain behind. Garmund was disappointed. He had gone on the trip to the ruins because he was left out at the Hall, and now he was being left out again just as an adventure seemed to be at its beginnings. An adventure like the ones in Cnebba's tales. Garmund wanted to be go back to the Hall and tell Cnebba and his sister that instead of hearing tales today, he had been in the middle of one. And too, if help were needed, three were better than two, even if one of the number was a boy. He could still fight. But Thornden had given his answer, and Garmund would not disobey.

"I will stay," he mumbled.

littlemanpoet

09-02-2006, 11:02 AM

The two heads looked at each other and they began to chuckle.

"Small you be, but not small as that." The men sat down on an old stump and watched him, toothless grins on their faces. The man to Falco's right, the original speaker, said, "What be you called?"

Now he was on familiar territory. He hopped to his feet and bowed, saying, "Master Falco Boffin at your service; er, services, sirs. And how may I call you?"

"I'm Lefun," said the original speaker.

"I'm Ritun," said the other.

Left and right. Could it be believed? "Those are your names?"

"None other," they said in unison.

"How - how - you - " Falco couldn't help himself. "You've only one pair of legs between you! What happened!"

They looked at each other knowingly, then turned to him; Lefun spoke. "Aborne we were so."

Suddenly noise of running could be heard from the path down which Falco had come. Lefun and Ritun stood and scowled, and hid themselves in the thickness of the woods just off the path. Falco saw Thornden coming. Clearly, they were afraid of Thornden, but Falco did not know why. He waited, wondering what he would say, and wondering where Garmund was. What if there were more of these two headed men about? And Garmund left alone?

Folwren

09-02-2006, 11:43 AM

“Thank you,” Thornden said when he heard Garmund’s slow, reluctant promise to obey. “Go back through these vines here. I think you’ll be safer if you are more hidden.” He turned once he had spoken and ran to the wall. He paused one moment, glanced back towards Garmund, and then went beyond it.

A faint path could scarecly be seen, leading the way between thick woods and thicker underbrush. Visibility on either side was next to nothing. Thornden pursed his lips. He didn’t think anyone would envy his position just now. “I certainly don’t envy me,” he said with some irony in his voice. All the same, he had to go one.

And he did, at a swift walk. Turning the first bend, he saw Falco up ahead, looking down the path at him. Thornden hurried forward, frowning like a thundercloud. “Are you satisfied, Falco?” he asked as he drew near. “Let’s go back and quit looking before one of us gets hurt! I don't like leaving Garmund alone, either."

Firefoot

09-03-2006, 07:35 AM

Léof was tying the horses down in the aisle when Javan trotted into the stable, although Léof noted with approval that he slowed upon entering. Léof wondered what had brought Javan back, whether he had needed something or liked horses or simply assumed that Léof would prove more interesting than whatever it was Saeryn and Medreth would have to talk about. He suspected that while it might be a combination, it would be more the latter than the former two.

Half-waiting for Javan to begin a conversation, he began to unsaddle Medreth’s horse. When he didn’t, Léof offered up a question, “So do you have any other siblings, besides Thornden and Medreth?” He glanced over the horse’s back at Javan as he asked, and realized that he was still just standing there as if he weren’t quite sure of himself. “You can sit down over there if you want,” Léof offered, indicating the ledge where Linduial had sat watching him just a month ago. “Of if you’d rather, you can help by unsaddling your horse.”

Folwren

09-03-2006, 12:39 PM

Javan thankfully chose the second option and hurried forward to his horse. His hands flew as they undid the girth and pulled the saddle off. He followed as Lèof led the way to the place where saddles were kept and they put them up. Lèof handed him a cloth and brush from a bag hanging on the wall and they went back out to rub the horses down.

“So. . .” Lèof said once again as they began their work. “Do you have any siblings other than Medreth and Thornden?”

“Oh, yes!” Javan said, looking up briefly. “I have two more sisters and another brother. Thornden and Medreth are the two oldest. Medreth’s married and has a son now, you know. They say I’m an uncle, but it seems rather odd. I’m not very old yet.” Javan gnawed on his lip as he rubbed the sweaty back of his horse where the saddle had been. His hands moved more and more slowly and his eyes looked around the stable slowly. He craned his neck about as far as it would go in attempt to see a horse in one of the stalls.

“Do you work in here all day? With the horses?” he asked, turning again towards Lèof.

“Pretty much,” Lèof replied, glancing up slightly as he continued steadily. Javan hurried to go on with the rag, but he couldn’t help saying –

“That must be fun. And you must be awfully skilled with horses.”

Laiudanama

09-04-2006, 01:44 PM

Trystan had slipped discretely out of the stable shortly after Saeryn had entered and this new woman, this Medreth, had begun questioning her about her relationship with Eodwine. He shook his head to himself, wandering out towards the woods not far from the Mead Hall, no clear direction in his mind except to put some distance between himself and such conversations. He knew already what Saeryn’s answer would be; after all, was it not the same answer that she had given to every nosy busybody who wanted an insight into gossip. An apprentice only; nothing between Eodwine and Saeryn; yes, the titles can be confusing; he is my mentor, that is all.

Trystan picked up a stick and childishly swiped at a nearby bush. How many mentors address their wards by the name ‘love’, combined with a swift wink, before they ride off on business? Aye, he’d seen that exchange before Eodwine had ridden off, had seen the look that he had given her before turning away without a backwards glance – but, much to his frustration, the youth had been unable to see whether Saeryn’s expression had reciprocated such surprising affections. What did it matter what the Lady Saeryn’s feelings in that direction were though anyway. It wasn’t as if she would be – interested – in – him…

Each word was punctuated with a swift chopping blow against the undergrowth, childish, petty acts of violence that did little more to relieve his anger and frustration than had his previous inactivity. It simply reminded him of what a child he must appear in Saeryn’s eyes – why, she was barely older than him, surely! Yet she seemed so much older, a Lady, wise – and noble, of course. Unattainable. Always reaching for something you cannot have, Trystan – after all, wasn’t that the problem with Tamarin: just had to have something you shouldn’t have gone near…

Trystan glared at an inoffensive looking shrub that, to its own misfortune, momentarily took on the features of the Lord of the Hall and drew back his stick to deliver a splendid back handed blow—

The sound of sharp voices nearby made him freeze, stick frozen in mid-air.

“Garmund, get back here!”

Garmund? Garstan’s son? And the other, deep, curt and Rohirrim, was Thornden: a life in the shadows had blessed Trystan with a skill at recognising voices without the help of faces. The sharp command was followed by a softer exchange, the boy protesting against Thornden’s firm hand, and Trystan found himself drawn towards the voices. As he arrived soundlessly behind them in the space of the ruins, Trystan was just in time to see Thornden’s form disappear into the wood, leaving Garmund alone in the ruins. The boy certainly was unhappy with the situation, hanging back, but just barely, and apparently inwardly torn between Thornden’s clear request to stay and his own desperate desire to follow. For a moment, it seemed that the latter would prevail and Trystan decided now was as good a time as any to announce his presence.

“Not so fast – wouldn’t want to be rushing into things now, would we?” Trystan’s wry voice, with more than a hint of irony, made Garmund spin around immediately to face him, and the panic on his young features quickly settled into a scowl at the sight of the youth watching him, his slim form leaning unconcernedly against one of the lone trees that had crept daringly forward from the general line of the wood. Trystan gave him a quick grin then turned his gaze upon the wood, nodding towards the path which Thornden had taken a few moments previously. “May I ask the cause of the fuss from which you and I appear to be excluded?”

Garmund surveyed Trystan for a second, then shrugged, with maybe a little too much nonchalance: this was his story, his adventure, and evidently he didn’t appreciate the older boy’s gate-crashing. But the desire to share the adventure won over his initial resentment, although he kept his tone carefully casual. “Oh…well, there was this man hiding in the ruins, and he was huge, hiding there—”

He trailed away. Trystan had suddenly tensed, straightening up immediately from his lazy position against the tree, and a decidedly hunted look had taken itself into his grey eyes. His fingers itched, ready to grab for the knife in his boot – after all, though one remained on a shelf in the stables, an admission to Leofric of his horse-thieving intentions if he was ever to reclaim it, Trystan was not unarmed, and a similar, slender knife remained within his high boots. He’s found me; he’s come all the way from Minas Tirith, just for this, just to make me pay – gods, he’ll kill me, he’ll kill me all over that blasted Tamarin…

“What did this man look like?” he asked, softly.

Firefoot

09-04-2006, 08:12 PM

“Well, yes, I suppose so,” answered Léof, slightly unsure of how to answer this comment. “I guess you could say that I’ve never really wanted to do anything else.”

This appeared to impress Javan very much, but Léof thought, It had its price. Everything has its price. He had neither the will nor the heart to explain this to Javan, however. Why should he? Javan would become a man soon enough and find out such things for himself. Léof thought of his own sister, just about Javan’s age, and how much sooner she had had to grow up. What was she doing now? Was she well? He had heard naught of her in over two months now, despite the second letter he had sent three weeks ago. He wished he might see her now as young-seeming and unfettered as Javan appeared to him.

“You seem a fair hand with horses, yourself,” Léof commented. He had noticed Javan's curious gaze wandering around the stable. "If you'd like, I can show you around once we're done with these two."

Thinlómien

09-05-2006, 07:15 AM

"What means this?"

The children were reluctant to speak out. Modtryth answered the stoneshaper's gaze. "I do not know about this any more than you do, Master Garstan. The children ran to me asking had I seen Garmund. They explained me they were going to apologise to him. But why, that is something they must tell you themselves..." she said, turning her gaze to her son. She cursed herself; had she been less occupied with her work and concentrated on the children, she shoud have known, not guessed, what had happened. Anyway, it's better to make Cnebba tell me and Garstan himself...

Cnebba cast a miserable glance at his playmate. Lèoðern, tears running down her pretty cheeks, had however fixed her gaze on a stain on her shoe and did not notify him. "Dad says I and Lèoðern are scorning him. Garmund, I mean", Cnebba said, looking first at his mother and then at the father of his friends. "Are you?" Modtryth asked sharply. Cnebba looked at his friend again, and this time the girl returned his gaze. "I guess we were, mum", the boy replied, looking her mother in the eye with her own dark brown eyes. His expression was as serious as his mother's.

"We did not mean to be nasty", Lèoðern added quietly.

Nogrod

09-05-2006, 02:02 PM

Stigend tried to continue his work a while after the children had gone searching for Garmund but soon realised that his thoughts wandered in totally different matters. Modtryth maybe right. Maybe I’m too concerned about Cnebba? But how could I not?

“Auch!” The axe slipped and hit Stigend’s right shin sideways. He dropped the axe, took hold of his leg and cursed silently, breathing slow and deep. Well, not the edge though, but hurts... like always. That kind of things happened every now and then. When the mind slips the tool slips. He knew that well enough. Okay, I might as well go to see Garstan now. This work seems not to be progressing now anyway...

As Stigend approached the half-built kitchen he heard Garstan’s voice. He couldn’t quite make out what was being discussed but it was something concerning a trip to some ruins or something and telling tales and then not understanding what was going on. When Stigend came to the corner he heard his wife talking. “But why, that is something they must tell you themselves...” Stigend halted and listened to Cnebba explaining the situation. Brave lad..., he thought and decided to get involved.

"We did not mean to be nasty", Lèoðern added quietly just as Stigend walked into the kitchen.

“I believe you didn’t.” Stigend said aloud, entering the room: “But you didn’t actually mean to be nice either. Now did you?” Both children laid their heads down again. Stigend nodded to both Garstan and Modtryth, gesturing them for a permission to continue a little bit. He took a look at the children. They both looked quite beaten and ashamed but also somewhat defiant. There was something else here Stigend realised that he did not know about. He bowed lightly to come more at level with the children.

“Allright you two. I believe you meant no harm as such. But when you want to be friends with someone, you’ll have to think every now and then how that one feels the things you do and say. And that’s easy, really. Just think how you would feel yourself in a same kind of situation.” With that Stigend raised himself back up to meet Garstan and Modtryth.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” Modtryth asked, pointing her question to both men.

“You’re right. We should have lunch, all of us, and talk this over. I know something about this but you seem to know other things.” Stigend agreed. Garstan nodded to the proposition: “Some lunch then. I’m waiting to hear the whole story, if there is one”, he said.

They helped themselves with some soup, bread and household wine and water. Then they settled to a table in the Hall near the kitchen. Stigend told about his discussion with the children earlier and Cnebba and Lèoðern admitted intently playing Garmund out of the game. Then Garstan told about the trek to the ruins. After that they ate in silence for a while, all in their own thoughts.

“Well, I’m not wishing to downplay any other aspects of the problem there may be, but the root of this seems both easy to see and hard to fix”, Stigend said eventually, tearing pieces of bread and dropping them to his almost empty bowl of soup. Garstan laid his bowl down and looked at him, keenly waiting for him to continue.

“I mean. Garmund spends a lot of time, many days a week learning your trade, Garstan. That is great, don’t get me wrong. I have been somewhat impatient to have Cnebba with me learning the carpentry. Modtryth here will give testimony of that.” He took a fast look at Modtryth and smiled. She had soup in her mouth and had to really concentrate not to laugh out aloud to Stigend’s mild way of putting the thing forward. They had discussed that, many times.

“So, when Garmund gets back to join these two, they already have their own games and adventures. They’ve had fun all the day and Garmund is left outside of it. If I could take Cnebba to learn my trade, this could be solved, but it maybe that Modtryth is right. He maybe too young for it still.”

Stigend tried to look as solemn as he could, but inwardly he was smiling widely. Nothing so bad as not to carry with it a seed of something good. Cnebba had never really been so interested in carpentry but liked to study all kinds of bugs and the like and Modtryth had given him a firm no everytime he had tried to reason a deal why Cnebba should start learning his trade. Now he could beat both oppositions. How to make a child do something? Tell him not to do it or tell it publicly that he’s not capable of doing it... And even Modtryth can’t go against it now as it would solve the basics of this problem.

Folwren

09-05-2006, 03:10 PM

Javan blushed with pride at Léof’s word of compliment. He looked up eagerly at the offer of being shown around. “Oh, yes, I’d like that,” he said.

In a few minutes they were finished and the horses passed Léof’s inspection. “Follow me,” he said, untying Medreth’s horse. Javan untied his horse and followed him. “Put him in there,” Léof said as he passed an empty stall. “She’ll go into the next one here.”

In a moment, the horses were away. Javan and Léof bolted the doors and Léof offered to take the bridle. Javan slowly, half extended it, but then took it back. “I’ll follow you and put it away.” Léof grinned and once more led the way.

Once the bridles and brushes and rags had been put into their proper places, Léof began the tour of the stables. Javan followed him, his hands in his pockets, and his ears and eyes wide open and Léof told him where and what things were and showed him the horses.

“Do you have a horse?” Javan asked abruptly, half way down the line.

littlemanpoet

09-05-2006, 06:28 PM

“Are you satisfied, Falco?” asked Thornden as he drew near. “Let’s go back and quit looking before one of us gets hurt! I don't like leaving Garmund alone."

"Aye, I'm satisfied," Falco answered, "satisfied that you shouldn't have left Garmund alone! Better to have brought him with! Get on with you! I'm right behind! I don't want your big lumbering feet tripping me up from behind!"

Thornden furrowed his brow but apparently could think of nothing to say, so turned back around and started for the opening where they had left Garmund.

Falco turned to the brush where Lefun and Ritun were hidden and gave a big wink in their general direction, then trotted after Thornden. Somehow he needed to get Garmund away from Thornden, he was not sure how, but the chance might arise somehow, so that Garmund could meet Lefun and Ritun for himself. He would have to warn the boy somehow so that the poor lad didn't shreek with fright at first glimpse. He would have to see how this would go, he promised himself.

Then his sharp hobbit ears picked up yet another voice, another of the big people, a young man by the sound of him, in the opening where Garmund was. Who? Falco furrowed his own brow in sudden fear for the boy. There was no knowing who it might be.

Thornden had turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Falco scrunched between his legs to get a look. It was Trystan! Garmund was telling him about the man.

Celuien

09-05-2006, 07:09 PM

Garmund scowled black as a thundercloud when Trystan entered. After Thornden left, he had fully meant to quietly follow from a bit off the path. Far enough away to avoid Thornden's watchful eye, but close enough to see any excitement - and to help in a fight if needed. With Trystan's unexpected arrival, that plan was thwarted, and Garmund again forced to remain behind like a child who needed watching rather than a great boy of nine.

"What did this man look like?"

The question briefly drew Garmund away from his irritation. At least he was asked to tell some of the tale instead of being forced out of it.

"A great, tall man, twice as high as me, with a great, dark, shaggy beard and rough, dirty clothes. He talked strangely. Like a man out of the tales, only real. Then Master Thornden came, the man ran away, and Master Falco and Thornden followed. Master Thornden wouldn't let me come, so here I am." Garmund looked at the ground, kicking it a bit harder than he had thought to do.

"I wish I knew what they were doing out there."

Folwren

09-06-2006, 07:12 AM

Now that was injustice! Thornden positively smarted under Falco’s scornful rebuke. Leaving Garmund alone? It wasn’t his idea, to be sure! He had only left to save Falco. Why try to argue the point? He turned and walked back the way he had come.

Coming round the old wall, he became aware of another voice. He stopped as he came into view of Garmund. Trystan was there, too. He could hear Garmund telling Trystan about the man they had stumbled upon. Trystan’s face was sharp and his figure tense.

After pausing a moment, Thornden went forward. He drew near, just as Garmund said in a rather bitter tone, “I wish I knew what they were doing out there.”

“Nothing happened,” Thornden said. Garmund turned to look at him and Falco. “I didn’t see him again and Falco’s in one piece. Hello, Trystan. When did you get here?”

Laiudanama

09-06-2006, 01:10 PM

Trystan almost flinched at the voice, tense as he was, and his reflex was to spin around immediately, knife in hand - an impulse that he just barely resisted. Half-turning his body to face Thornden, he slipped the knife into the back of his belt, under his jerkin, and hoped that neither he nor Falco had seen it: it was a practised action, smoothly and discretely done, but he didn't know how much they had seen, and Thornden certainly did have a look of storm about him. To be found holding a knife to the son of one of Eodwine's men - how well Saeryn would take that take of events!

He smiled disarmingly, turning fully and pretending to breathe a slight sigh of relief. "Why, Thornden, you startled me, I didn't see you there - and what with apparent fugitives running around left, right and centre, I wasn't sure what to think."

Thornden's lips went through the motions of returning the smile, but Trystan fancied that it did not quite reach his eyes. Trys continued, "I came but a few moments ago - Garmund was just telling me of a man found here, a 'great, tall, shaggy man'?" Despite attempting to keep his voice neutral, mildly interested, he was afraid maybe a little more eagerness than was perhaps usual slipped through, but tried to relax; the ex-soldier would merely put it down to curiousity, or to 'boyish enthusiasm', he hoped, with more than a hint of irony. Boyish enthusiasm: not one of Trystan's usual traits, but he could pretend in an emergency...

The comment was recieved with narrowed eyes, then Thornden looking towards Garmund, who nodded sulkily in confirmation. Trystan resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow: his word was taken at the confirmation of a mere child of nine or ten years. Such respect had he evidently gained within the past month at the Mead Hall... But such thoughts were not the most pressing in his mind at the present: his head was still spinning with thoughts of this man, this 'huge, shaggy, man' with apparently some sort of foreign accent.

Stagram.

The name sounded through his mind like a death knell. The root of Trystan's problems, the reason he had spent more than a month before his stay at Mead Hall on the run from everyone and everything he had ever known - and a figure who could well fit such a description. Admittedly, running away had never really been Stagram's style, but he had always been a coward, and to be this far away from home, he would be looking for only one thing, or, well, one person: Trystan himself.

"Is there anything I could do to help? You say you have not yet found this man...?"

Thornden shook his head begrudgingly. "Nay. Falco lost him in the woods somewhere, and I was unable to catch up-"

He's still loose somewhere near the Mead Hall. A shiver ran down Trystan's back, and he responded a little too sharply, cutting off the end of Thornden's statement in his haste. "Then surely we should find him?"

"I reckon this big people is no more dangerous than any other of you log-footed folk, Trystan," said Falco, watching the other carefully. Trystan could feel his facade slipping by the second, but he was beginning to panic at the helplessness which was coming over him: panic and helplessness, two states with which he was rarely confronted, and which he was therefore unpractised. It was almost suffocating - and he couldn't tell anyone why! Forcing himself to maintain an outward calm, Trystan gave a quick smile and shrug, before responding. "Aye, of course, but maybe it would be unwise to take chances? To have a ruffian of such dimensions on the loose near the Mead Hall, with women and children present - and valuable horses too, of course," he added, with another brief grin, to which Falco allowed a reluctant half smile: after a month, Trystan had just about rid himself of the label of would-be horse thief, but it was nonetheless how he knew he had appeared when he first entered. Taking advantage of a moment of such good nature, he continued, "Maybe if I was to help you search? That way someone could stay with Garmund so as to avoid him coming to harm in the case of this man returning...That is, if you think it a wise idea?" he added with a perhaps not altogether convincing air of nonchalance - although he was inwardly desperate to get a glimpse at this man, to see whether it was indeed Stagram. To see whether his past had pursued him all the way to the Gap of Rohan...

Firefoot

09-06-2006, 05:43 PM

As Léof showed Javan around, he was forced to revise his earlier supposition about him. Javan had probably not come back to the stables so much for avoiding his sister and Saeryn’s conversation as for being near the horses and Léof, for his being the ostler. Javan had not grown bored or fidgety as Léof had half-expected, especially when Léof had started telling him about the individual horses; to the contrary, Javan was all wide-eyed curiosity, and Léof welcomed his company.

“Do you have a horse?” Javan asked, apparently out of nowhere, although Léof supposed it was a rather logical question.

“Sure do,” answered Léof. “She’s right down here.” He skipped past a couple occupied stalls and an empty one to stop at Æthel’s stall. She had poked her head out of the stall and whickered a greeting. “This is Æthel,” said Léof, not without some pride. It occurred to him then for the first time that Æthel may not in truth be his, but his father’s – what would happen if he demanded her back? He doubted he could afford to buy her. I’ll never let that happen. Ever. Aloud, he added, “Don’t ever let anyone tell you that a horse can’t be your friend.” That was a comment he had heard often enough from his father. “Æthel is one of the truest.”

littlemanpoet

09-07-2006, 02:24 PM

Falco pursed his lips and pondered a moment. There's something false about this Trystan, sure as shine when the sun's out, Falco thought to himself. Seemed the boy always had a mask on, because every now and then it slipped; and Falco was nothing if he wasn't quick to mark such things. So much for pondering.

"Aye, you two go on ahead and I'll stay back with Garmund," Falco replied. Thornden eyed him suspiciously. "What're you lookin' at me like that for? You ought to be happy I let you come along at all! Garmund will be fine with me. Now go catch up the lad, can't you see he's leaving you behind?"

Thornden, still eyeing Falco, glanced to where Trystan had been; he was not there. He threw up his hands in consternation and set out at a run to catch up to Trystan.

Falco turned to Garmund who was again looking a little sullen. "There now, my boy, they've gone on a goose chase wild as you like. You want to see the man? I'll show him to you if you like."

Celuien

09-07-2006, 06:59 PM

"I should like to see the man. Did you find him?" The idea of going to see the man slowly eased Garmund's sullenness, and the frown faded from his brow.

"Aye. So I did. Come along quick now. We wouldn't want them to catch us again, would we?" Falco grinned at the boy, and Garmund smiled in answer. The conspirators could go on together, now that Thornden was off on his wild goose chase.

Falco headed out of the circle, and Garmund hurried after, images of the coming meeting with the stranger filling his head.

littlemanpoet

09-07-2006, 07:27 PM

The foliage was thick about them, spring well on its way to summer, and everything lush and green and making for good hiding at a pinch.

"Now I want you to understand something, Garmund," Falco said quietly as he led the boy down the path. Garmund was quiet on his feet for a a human, but Falco had to keep from wincing with what his sharp ears picked up of Garmund's solid tread. "This man will look different to you. See, he hides back here because folk fear him."

"Wh - why do they fear him? Is he bad?"

"Nay, not bad, but different. See, he was born with one set o' legs like you and me but he's twins on top."

Garmund stopped.

Folwren

09-08-2006, 12:08 PM

“Don’t ever let anyone tell you that a horse can’t be your friend. Æthel is one of the truest.”

Javan giggled rather humorously. “I know. My father thinks it’s ridiculous. He likes horses and doesn’t mind me being with them so much, but he doesn’t see how they can possibly be anyone’s friend. ‘They’re animals,’” he went on, his voice dropping into a deeper, imitation of someone’s voice (his father’s, presumably), “‘animals aren’t friends. They may seem to like you so long as you feed and water them and keep them groomed, but they couldn’t care less if you didn’t.’”

He rambled to a stop and gently stroked Æthel’s velvet-like nose. She was a very attractive horse, with warm, bright eyes, and a finely shaped head. He leaned against the wall, his hand still caressing her. “I wish I had my own horse. I don’t have one,” he explained with a sigh as Lèof’s glance showed surprise. “How did you get yours?”

Folwren

09-08-2006, 12:09 PM

Thornden didn’t trust Falco and his innocent appearance of staying behind with Garmund. He kept looking back towards the hobbit and boy as long as he was in sight, but the thick foliage and trees and crumbling wall soon hid them. He walked in silence by Trystan’s side.

What was he even doing? He didn’t want to find the man! That hadn’t been his purpose at all, from the very beginning. He wanted to leave the stranger alone. A man unprovoked likely doesn’t do anything dangerous, and that’s exactly how Thornden wanted it. He stopped abruptly and plucked Trystan’s sleeve.

“Hold on, lad,” he said. Trystan turned towards him. “I don’t think we want to go hunting him. He didn’t mean any harm, I’m certain of it, and I don’t think he will cause any harm, unless he thinks he’s being hurt, or about to be hurt. If we go poking about this place he might get angry. He called it his place and therefore, I think, might consider our walking about it in search of him as trespassing.”

“But, we-”

“What makes you so anxious to find him anyway?” Thornden asked, interrupted Trystan before he had scarcely begun. “Is there any reason?”

Celuien

09-09-2006, 07:25 AM

Garmund froze in his tracks to stare at Falco, unsure whether to believe the story or not. There had been nothing in Falco's voice to make Garmund think that he was being teased.

For Garmund had been told a story of two-headed giants, who, in times long forgotten, had dwelt among the wilds of the mountains in the North. The giants fell upon the Wold, stealing horses and burning farms until Aldhelm came with his bright sword and drove the giants back to the hills.

But that had been a child's story, told to Garmund and Lèoðern by their father as they sat around a fire and the evening shadows grew deep around them. Twins sharing one pair of legs seemed to belong more to old legends than the light of day. As Garmund thought upon the tale, he recalled another story out of the North. A story of little people who lived in the sides of hills and rivers. Falco had walked out of those tales to dwell in Rohan. Some legends could hold truth. Garmund knew that the stranger in the ruins was not a giant from the story, but maybe there had once been others like him who were the beginning of the tale.

"One set of legs, but twins on top? Two heads, four arms, and everything?"

littlemanpoet

09-09-2006, 10:13 AM

"Aye, Garmund, that is the way of it. Not scared?"

Garmund seemed to be thinking hard a moment, then shook his head in a determined "no".

"Well as you no doubt saw, Lefun and Ritun are plenty scared of folk like Thornden, but not of you or me. Ready to go on?"

"Yes," Garmund said, his face a mix of caution and eagerness. Falco smiled. They walked on, quietly.

"Lefun? Ritun?" whispered Falco presently. "It's me an' the boy. Hullo?"

All was quiet. They had stopped, straining their ears to hear anything over the quiet breeze.

"Here we be." The voice spoke from one side of the trail, behind the foliage, not two yards from before their very faces.

"Follow me, Garmund." Falco pushed some low stems to either side and stepped into the darkness of the underbrush. Garmund was right behind. Two more steps and they were in green shadow, the leaves whispering all about them. Falco stepped to one side, allowing Garmund room beside him. Garmund looked up and his mouth opened in awe, for before them were Lefun and Ritun, their shadowed faces watching the two carefully, the strain of caution not completely gone from the twin's rigid torsos, open curiosity in their faces. Now that Garmund had a chance for a better look, he could see that the two were a little taller than Nain the Dwarf, but shorter than his Pa. And their single pair of legs were thick as tree trunks.

"Lefun and Ritun we are," said the one on the right, quietly, who seemed, to Falco, to be the leader of the two. "How are you called, young one?"

Celuien

09-09-2006, 02:24 PM

Swallowing hard, Garmund tipped his chin toward Lefun and Ritun. They were not quite so big as he had told Trystan in his excitement. But the reason for his story was understandable. Though the twins were only a little taller than the Dwarf, they were made large by wonder.

On his best manners - for good manners were the best way with which to greet strangers, particularly when they were out of the ordinary - Garmund gave the twins his greeting.

"I am Garmund, son of Garstan the stoneshaper. I am glad to meet you." He turned a little to his left and added, "Both of you."

littlemanpoet

09-10-2006, 07:48 PM

Lefun and Ritun grinned, showing big holes in their bites; those teeth that remained looked overlong, sticking at all angles out of blistered gums.

"A mannerly boy he be," Lefun said to Ritun, and turned back to Garmund. "Your Pa be proud of you, wager we."

Falco could not hold his peace any longer. "How long have you been here? Why do you live here? Or there more like you? How old are you? Surely you were among other folk once up on a time? How did they treat you? Or did they fear you, or you them?"

Lefun and Ritun closed their gappy mouths and their eyes drooped, looking pained.

"Folk are mean," Lefun said simply. "Folk bigger than you leastway. Here we hide. Lost count of winters here we have."

"You'd be safe enough at the Mead Hall, I'd wager," Falco ventured.

The twins frowned. "We'll not leave. None come here till you."

"But word will get out now, surely," Falco said, "for though Garmund and I can keep a secret, there's no surety that Thornden and the other will."

The twins scowled. "Then leave here we shall, and hide elsewhere."

Taralphiel

09-11-2006, 05:17 AM

The two sat in the sun for a while longer, watching the light wind stir the leaves, and the sound of children playing and running from garden to hallway. Lys gingerly stretched out his legs, and saw that his legs had grown a healthy pink from the warmth. Carefully he stood and turned to the Healer.

“Shall we walk a little way again? I wish to see more, and not sleep. I have done more than enough of that in my room…” Hrethel clapped his hands on his knees in agreement and eased his knees up straight with some soothing words.

“Let us see what the streets will be like. I do not think you will manage it today, but perhaps another day we may take you on a trip to the markets.”

Hrethel and Lys set out, taking another slow walk through the Mead Hall and the grounds without, watching the sun rise to its height. Once they had made a fair distance around the surrounding streets, they made their way for the main entrance and for Lys’ room. Hrethel was talking of herb lore and the various ingredients in poultices for a myriad of ailments when to his distress he saw that Lys was no longer walking beside him. The boy had stopped a few yards back, his head turned to the East.

Lys was looking up at the sun, and the line of the buildings next to him. Hrethel slowly stopped by his side and touched his shoulder.

“What be the matter, boy?”

Lys pointed to the rooftops. “I have seen them before. It was the cold dawn. And here…”

The young boy turned his hand down to the ground. There the collection of barrels and kegs still stood, the shield for where Lys had been curled up weeks ago. What colour care and healing had put into the young boy’s face had gone, and he trembled. The old man sighed and gently took his hand.

“It will take more time. Be patient, young Lys. Not all wounds heal like skin and bone.”

Lys looked back to the man, nodding.

“I…understand. I understand it now, sir. But I do remember some things. I remember fear, pain and a cruel laugh in the night. Will time heal this?”

Celuien

09-11-2006, 06:23 PM

"Please don't go!" Garmund cried out. "I'd not like to say farewell so soon after first meeting." His face shone with earnestness. Besides his curiosity, Garmund's pity had been stirred for the twins. By the looks of them, the twins had known hard times. Folk were mean, they said. Unfairly so, it seemed to Garmund. Strange though they were, there was no harm in them that Garmund could see. When not frightened, they were even friendly. It didn't seem right that they should be left alone in the wild, friendless, and in fear of strangers.

"Please come to the Mead Hall with us. At least for a little while. For supper. And if folk aren't mean, will you stay a little longer?"

littlemanpoet

09-11-2006, 07:08 PM

Falco smiled at the boy's frank honesty and open desire to make friends with the odd pair of twins. Lefun and Ritun wavered, he could see it on their faces. They looked at each other and their mottled faces worked. Not a word passed between them.
"But the way they looked into each other's eyes, it was like they was Elves," Falco later said to Eodwine. At length they turned and looked at Garmund.

"We like you, Garmun," Lefun said. Ritun nodded emphatically. "Tell this Mead Hall to us."

Firefoot

09-12-2006, 05:50 PM

"My family bought her as a yearling," Léof explained. "My father never really gave her to me formally, but it was always sort of understood. I was the first person to break her to the saddle, since I was so light that my father decided we could start teaching her to be ridden than we otherwise could have. I was thrown too many times to count, but my father was insistant that I could do it. And after that, she was our primary riding horse; the other three could be ridden but they mostly helped my father out in the fields - he is a farmer. I was the only one who rode often, so she effectually became my horse."

At this point, Léof felt his stomach rumble and said, "Your pardon! But I'm afraid I have not yet had the chance to eat today, though I had forgotten as we have talked. It must be near lunchtime already. We can come back after - or even while - we eat." Javan was in agreement, and the two left the stables to find some lunch: soup, bread, and water.

"So whose was the horse you rode here, if not your own?" asked Léof curiously.

Folwren

09-13-2006, 08:13 AM

“So whose was the horse you rode here, if not your own?”Léof asked as they stepped into the sunlight. Javan’s hands wandered to his pockets and his little face became serious as he answered, looking steadily at the ground.

“My father’s,” he said. “He has a great number of horses. He sells and buys a lot, but he mostly breeds mares and raises and trains the foals to sell when they’re three or so. He says I can have my own horse when I become thirteen, but until then, I have to prove myself trustworthy with horses and be able to manage them. So I do get to work with them quite a lot, with someone around. I’ve helped break a few colts, like you!” he said proudly, looking up.

He stopped abruptly, his eye having caught sight of something. An old man and a boy came into the courtyard together. Javan stared openly with childish curiosity and pity as the boy limped slightly on his way towards the Mead Hall.

“Who’s he?” Javan asked in a low voice to Léof. He nodded his head towards Lys.

Laiudanama

09-13-2006, 11:00 AM

Trystan marched hastily through the undergrowth, hand ready to grab the knife at any minute should he need to use it against this stranger, or creature he hoped would a stranger, and not the man who he feared it might be – or against Thornden, for that matter. He knew little of the man, he realised, except that he had been a former member of the King’s Guard, and that he appeared to be a close friend, or trusted employee at least, of Eodwine. He was unlikely to have taken to Trystan, then, the boy reasoned bitterly; Eodwine’s feelings towards him certainly hadn’t seemed to improve. Maybe that was in fact the reason that Thornden had followed him: to keep an eye on him! And unfounded, of course: why, he hadn’t asked this Thornden to ‘accompany’ him! He’d stepped not a foot out of line since coming to the Mead Hall! He wouldn’t dream of it…

When the object of Trystan’s angry thoughts interrupted them, therefore, the boy was somewhat less than cordial in his response.

“What makes you so anxious to find him anyway? Is there any reason?”

“None of your—”the words were out of Trystan’s mouth before he could stop them, his façade slipping irreparably in his frustration. Thornden’s eyes narrowed immediately and, although he did not move, a tenseness, a close attention to Trystan’s every move, down to the shallowest breath of stirring of his pulse, seemed to come over him. Once a soldier… Trystan tried to regain the group he already knew was lost, running his hand back through his scruffy dark hair agitatedly. “I…I’m sorry, Thornden, I didn’t mean to snap; it’s simply…well, it is worrying, is it not, to have a man, of such proportions as were described by Garmund, running loose so close to the Mead Hall…”

“No, it is more than that,” Thornden replied, his voice controlled, making the statement as a simple fact. His eyes were still narrowed and fixed on Trystan. “There have been other strangers and vagabonds who have passed the Mead Hall; were they pursued with such zeal? Least of all by you, of course, Trystan.”

It was a statement, astutely made, but felt like a slap across the face to Trystan. His countenance was increasingly becoming that of a wild creature, ready to fight or flee at any given second, and one would have half expected his response to be the hiss of a cornered feral cat. “That is how you see me then, Thornden? A ‘stranger and vagabond’? What, in all the time have I been here, have I done to merit such scorn? From you, from Eodwine, from all his lackeys like you-”

“Lackeys?” Thornden echoed sharply, his voice rising, and this time he took a half step forward. Of course, by now Trystan had realised that he may have bitten off a little more than he could chew, but the situation was deteriorating uncontrollably, fuelled by his panic and, yes, his fear: his fear of being thrown out again, his fear of being found out and hounded by the authorities, who would surely kill him or leave him to rot, and of Stagram.

Looking down the stairs, aghast, still clutching his prize, his ‘contract’, and, half-sitting, half-lying in the chair, the gentle-faced figure… Steps running outside, he was sure, and laughing, whispered voices…

The memory that came with Stagram’s name sobered the boy, and he turned away sharply, glaring fiercely into the undergrowth with angry, desperate, searching eyes, barely noticing Thornden’s perambulatory movement towards him as he did so. He was a just a boy, he’d done nothing wrong – he couldn’t keep this up by himself any more.

Dropping the prize on the dusty carpet in what seemed like slow motion, he ran – ran for his life…

“Thornden-” he started suddenly, then stopped. What was the use? He wouldn’t understand – no, that wasn’t true, maybe he would understand, but he wouldn’t want to, and he would certainly never be able to fully see Trystan’s side of the tale, nor keep it as the secret that Trystan needed it to be, however much it was eating him up inside. To tell a soldier that he was wanted for theft and murder? The idea would be laughable if the situation wasn’t so serious. He hung his head, dark hair falling into his eyes as he closed them and took a deep breath, before turning around, shaking his head. “You’re right. You’re…I’m sorry, you are right,” he said, falteringly. “I just…look, never mind, it was just a hunch, an idea that a certain…”

The broken sentences trailed away and he managed a somewhat rueful half-smile, fingers running through his hair once again, a signature gesture. “Making any sense?” he shrugged. The tension was still in the air, but it was fading, and his panic and anger were passing, leaving behind a sad, lonely boy. Straightening up, he tried again, his language formalised, as it often became before figures of authority, although in fact, he realised, Thornden was not much older than himself – a friend, maybe, although possibly in another lifetime. “Look, it doesn’t matter: you’re right, I have no reasonable compulsion for pursuing this individual. Should we return?”

Celuien

09-13-2006, 05:04 PM

Garmund thought for a moment of how to tell the twins of the Mead Hall. They were afraid of folk bigger than he was. The hall was filled with big folk, including one who had already frightened Lefun and Ritun.

"Well," Garmund began, "it's like a great, big house. My sister is there, and our friend Cnebba. He's about my size. Master Falco stays there too. And my father. He's helping to build a new part of the hall, and I help him."

"And folk bigger than you?"

"Yes. The two here now are from the Hall. And Lord Eodwine. It's his hall. They're all nice. They wouldn't be mean to you, I'm sure." Aware that he was possibly saying more than he ought, Garmund added, "If they tried, we wouldn't let them. Would we, Master Falco?"

Folwren

09-14-2006, 12:11 PM

Thornden stood in absolute silence, not from stern anger, but from dumbfounded surprise. What was it that leaped and struggled to get free, but at the same time shrank from coming into the light? Trystan, in his entire stay at the Mead Hall, had rarely ever seemed so flustered and disturbed. He was generally the epitome of nonchalant calmness. There had been flashes of indignant anger at being insulted, the usual mask of the apparent lack of interest, but never fear and this obvious uncertainty

“Thornden-” he began, and stopped.

‘Yes - yes?’ Thornden pressed inside his head, but speaking nothing aloud. A very long pause followed. Trystan looked up at him and then back to the ground.

“You’re right. You’re. . .I’m sorry, you are right. I just. . .look, never mind, it was just a hunch, and idea that a certain. . .” he stopped again. Thornden’s eyebrow lifted in confusion, and he still said nothing. Silently, he begged Trystan to continue.

‘Idea that it was a certain what? Oh, come on! Speak to me, I won’t bite your head off.’

Trystan looked up, maybe half apologetically as he ran his hand through his hair. “Make any sense?” It was a joke, but Thornden dearly wished it weren’t and that he could answer it.

‘No, none at all, actually.’

The satirical remark faded from his mind. Trystan glanced around him, a new look in his eyes, so recently filled with some inhuman fear, much like that in the eyes of the man Thornden had scared away. They were now filled with loneliness. Thornden felt taken aback and a wave of guilt flooded him. They’d all been so worried that he’d turn out to be a villain, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. They never thought that he might be needing friendship. Trystan was alone, with a crowd of people around him, and Thornden knew well enough that unless someone else broke the ice first, Trystan would always remain alone.

Should he say something now? Trystan’s shield had fallen. His mind and his feelings, his confidence, his secret - whatever that was - might be reached now. But in five minutes - in two, maybe - the guard would be back up and the lock would be dropped in place.

The thoughts passed through Thornden’s mind one after another and he had made up his mind to say something when Trystan spoke. “Look, it doesn’t matter: you’re right, I’ve no reasonable compulsion for pursuing this individual. Should we return?”

Thornden nearly winced at the sudden far-offness of his voice. The shell was already closing. “No, not yet,” he said quickly. But what could he say? The glimpse inside Trystan had been momentary, a chance passing more quickly than a flash of lightning. “You were. . .you were on the verge of telling me something.” Would it do any good to press his confidence? Someone had to, sometime. Was it fair to take advantage while his guard was half down? No other time would do, he figured. “Won’t you finish?”

littlemanpoet

09-15-2006, 08:46 AM

"If they tried, we wouldn't let them. Would we, Master Falco?" Garmund looked at him, his eyes pleading.

Falco Boffin had the wits to put two and two together, and the force of character to make a thing or two happen, not to mention certain skills of hand, foot, and eye that could come in handy to force an issue now and then. He'd even killed a villain tried to set hisself up as the next dark lord; well, not quite singlehanded, but close as made no difference: Eodwine owed him, and on this particular matter he'd collect or he wasn't Falco.

"As soon they try moving that ol' Meduseld off its hill," Falco replied easily. Garmund grinned. Lefun and Ritun exchanged eyebrow raised glances, then turned to Falco.

"Safe is this place then?" asked Lefun.

"Its lord is a good man and owes me a favor for I saved his life once, and I mean to make him pay if it means taking you in as it's the right thing to do, if you understand me."

"This lord," said Ritun, speaking for the first time in an even more gravelly voice than his brother, "big he be?"

"Aye, big as Thornden, but good."

"And my father saved his life too! So he owes us both!" Garmund put in.

Lefun and Ritun grinned, showing their long ugly teeth and sore gums. Falco put his hand over his mouth and nose to ward off the smell of decay coming from the two mouths.

"What's the matter with your mouths?" Garmund asked innocently.

"They hurts," said both twins at once. "Eating be hard," added Lefun. Ritun nodded.

"You ought too have been cleanin' 'em all these years," Falco said. "See, you take a piece of bark from this here tree-" Just then Falco heard the heavy thud of man-sized feet coming back up the path. Half a moment later Garmund and the twins heard too. "Shh!" Falco shushed them. They stayed quiet as Thornden and Trystan passed them by. They were talking and so drowned out the noise of the brush around them. When they had passed, Falco said, "We need to get back or there'll be no end of Thornden tisking me for puttin' Garmund in danger. You two stay here an' I'll be back soon as I can! Come, Garmund!"

JennyHallu

09-18-2006, 09:21 AM

The castle of Dol Amroth was especially lovely at sunset. The tall towers, rising impossibly high above city's rooftops, were built of pale limestone and white marble, quarried in the foothills of the White Mountains, and they caught and reflected the vibrant colors of the evenin sky and the deep harbor to the west. Also shining and sparkling were the granite cliffsides between the city and its harbour, younger sisters to the marble edifice that rose above them. A tall stair and a long ramp with many switchbacks had been etched into the cliff long before the castle had even been built, long ago in the first years the tall Numenoreans had made this peaceful harbour their home. A woman stood on a high balcony, sea breezes wrapping her long dark hair around her as she gazed into the West. So far above the noise and bustle of the traders and fisherman ascending the cliff-paths for home, or getting the day's shipping stored in the warehouses built on the harbour shore in the shadow of the cliffs, the waning of the day was peaceful, serene.

The woman was a daughter of the line of Dol Amroth, and the haunting beauty of her face spoke to the truth of the long-treasured legend of Mithrellas and faerie blood in her veins. She was young, but a certain shadow in her eyes spoke to a wealth of dark experience, and gave her a quiet timeless look that was hard to ignore. The denizens of a certain Hall in Rohan would be hard pressed to recognize their dear friend Linduial, the carefree girl unaware of toil or trouble. Womanhood had hit her hard, and in the month since her kidnapping, she had matured into a quiet, too-wise creature, jaded and unhappy, wandering through the halls of her home like a wraith, searching for a reason to be. Her father and brothers worried about her, but did not know how to help her. She seemed to have forgotten how to laugh. Only rarely did her eyes light up and her face take on the joyful lines familiar to them: when Rohan or Edoras or a certain handsome young man were mentioned, only then did she seem hopeful.

And so Farlen, now sitting uncomfortably on the delicate divan in this feminine room, had packed her up and sent her to his elder brother.

Even in earliest youth it had been obvious that, even had their ages been reversed, Imrahil would carry the Princedom. Farlen had never been interested, much less jealous of his brother. Imrahil had an unconscious aura of wisdom, of command, that came naturally to him. Privately, Farlen thought his brother and his King were much of a kind: they carried with them a sort of majesty that couldn't be ignored. And, to Farlen's mind, Linduial was more like her uncle and that far cousin in Minas Tirith than any other scion of her line, especially now. They were more...elvish. There was no other way he could think to describe it. He loved his daughter dearly, but she seemed some ethereal inhuman thing: he did not understand her, but she gave him the uncomfortable feeling that she understood him, more clearly even then his wife had.

But there was a difference between preternatural maturity and the dark depression he had sorrowfully watched the young woman sink into over the past month. Even Imrahil, towering and awe-inspiring (more to his younger brother than the most loyal of the Prince's men, if truth be told), spent hours every day romping with the youngest children of his house, crawling cheerfully around on the floor with two or three on his back playing Eorl, recreating bloodless and giggly versions of the battles of the War, all dignity forgotten. Imrahil was like her, Imrahil understood her, Imrahil could fix it.

"You should come look outside, Father." The quiet voice was serene and detached. "The sun is setting and the whole world is gleaming fuschia. The sea is beautiful: those of our line have always felt connected to it. They say it calls to the Elves. How can they resist her?"

"Come inside, Lin," her father pleaded. This talk of the Sea's call made him nervous, especially with the fell mood she'd been in lately. "It's about time to go down for dinner, and the wind'll get your hair all tangled."

Lin turned toward him, a smile on her face but not reflected in her eyes. "I'm not very hungry, Father, surely no one will mind if I stay here."

A flash of inspiration hit the older man. "Imrahil specifically asked that you be there, love. He's got a great wish to see you safe, and he'll be wanting to ask you about things in Rohan."

"Uncle asked after me?" A flash of interest--that was enough to keep Farlen on this ploy. He'd spoken to Imrahil about her, of course, and Imrahil'd been happy to hear her safe, and dismayed to hear her current state. He'd even agreed with his brother's hope that he might be able to help the youngling where others couldn't: the two had always had a close bond. But he'd made no special request. The Rohan bit...now that was pure fabrication, based only on hearsay: supposedly Imrahil'd been showing some quiet interest lately in Rohirric affairs, and Lin had at least spoken to his daughter. There was no reason to think he wouldn't ask her about Rohan.

"Of course he did."

"Well, then, if the Prince requests it, I shall go." She walked to the vanity and gave her hair a few cursory strokes with a brush, taming it enough to grab the mass of it and twist it into a low chignon. Wordlessly she waited to meet her father at the door, and slipped her arm into his as they left for dinner.

To be continued...

Laiudanama

09-19-2006, 01:02 PM

Trystan snatched a suspicious glance back at Thornden, then turned away again. Had the older man a reason for pressing him? Almost to his own surprise, Trys found himself hoping that he didn’t. He’d lived his life with close companions, men and boys he could rely on for anything, thieves and vagabonds who had lived out of one anothers pocket whether it meant saving each others lives or stabbing each other in the back, the only thing tying them together being their unity against the law – the law of citizens, of lords, of soldiers – respectable, law abiding folk, like Saeryn, Eodwine and, of course, Thornden. When one lives a lifetime in that situation, trust to strangers really doesn’t come easily. How old was Thornden? Mid-twenties, he’d guess; Rohirrim as opposed to Gondorian; the very mark of the line law which Trystan had been tiptoeing since childhood. But despite this, they probably weren’t, he realised, all that far apart.

Trystan pulled his both hands up behind his head, scrawny elbows squewiff as he latched them at the back, then, with a huge sigh, let them drop down by his sides again, his shoulders dropping abruptly. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”

“No.” Thornden’s answer was surprisingly sharp, and Trystan felt his suspicions rise again – but when he turned to face the solider, he found no scheming or anger in his face, only, maybe, curiosity, and some genuine desire to help. He gave a small, awkward shrug. “Look, Trystan, if something is really wrong, if you have any need of a friendly ear, of there’s something you should tell us-”

“Should tell you?” Trystan shot back immediately, picking up on the phraseology immediately: his mind flew to the possibilities. Should? They’d heard. They must have heard. Or maybe just suspected that something was wrong, put two and two together and now demanded the right to know. So now this soft voiced soldier had taken him into the wood to get the truth out of him…

Thornden stepped forward, perhaps trying to give some reassuring sign, but Trystan’s hand was to his belt and a knife in it in the blink of an eye as he stumbled backwards. “’Should’? Why have I any need to tell you anything of my life? What, you heard about some theft, some…death, and you thought immediately of me, is that it? Maybe a cat can change it’s stripes, right? Right?”

The boy was almost shouting now and his hand was shaking slightly, the light quivering off the small, sharp blade in it. Thornden’s face closed up immediately. “Put down the blade, Trystan,” he said, in a low voice. Trystan didn’t respond immediately, he was realising just how much he might have given away, but as fear welled up in his stomach, he pushed it down with projected anger once more.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, alright? I never did anything wrong!”

His words echoed slightly in the clearing in which they’d stopped, the sound dampened almost immediately by the trees pressing in around them, and the full and dreadful meaning of what they might have given away came home to Trystan with a jolt. His eyes flickered to the knife in his hand, and he let go suddenly, as if burnt, letting the little blade drop to the floor to lie passive, a harmless sliver of silver amid the leaves. He stared at it, then backed away, wiping one hand on his trousers as if trying to get rid of it – or maybe, it would appear to an observer, to wipe some previous trace from his hands. Looking up at Thornden, the young Gondorian boy’s face was startled, a glitter of fear darting across his dark eyes for a second, before it was hastily masked. The façade fell back into place and a blank, hard cover shifted across his eyes, a subtle, second, snake’s eyelid.

“So you’ve heard, have you?” he croaked. "How?"

Firefoot

09-19-2006, 02:14 PM

“His name is Lys,” replied Léof in the same quiet tone. “He was found on the side of a road here in the city near death about two months ago, I think; he has spent much of that time recovering, and I don’t think he remembers much. Actually, your brother was the one to find him and has taken quite an interest in him; he could probably tell you more.”

This seemed only to increase Javan’s curiosity. Why not ask him to join us? The thought jumped suddenly into Léof’s mind, and he was surprised he had not thought of it before. Lys was still weak enough that he did not spend much time with the rest of the household of the Hall, and would not know many people or feel comfortable with them. Wouldn’t he want some companionship?

“We could go introduce ourselves and ask him to have lunch with us,” suggested Léof. “I don’t think he knows many people yet.”

“Alright,” Javan readily agreed, and the two walked over to Lys and Hrethel.

Léof reckoned he ought to talk first; he did, after all, at least know something about Lys. “Hello, Lys,” he said. “I’m not sure we’ve ever really been introduced, but I’m Léof, the ostler, and this is Javan; he’s visiting Thornden his brother at the Hall. Anyhow, we were about to eat lunch and wondered if you might like to join us.”

Folwren

09-19-2006, 03:00 PM

“So you’ve heard, have you?” Trystan asked hoarsely. “How?”

Thornden watched him warily a moment. He didn’t answer at once. He took a couple careful steps forward and bent quickly to the pick up the knife the young man had drawn, and then he retreated again. He gave himself time to study Trystan carefully and thoroughly. He didn’t understand.

“I haven’t heard anything,” Thornden finally said, in the calmest and quietest voice he could manage. Trystan was like a horse, frightened and dangerous, apparently calm and in control one moment, and snapping his teeth and rearing the next. “There’s been no crime or death. And I’m not trying to threaten you.” He glance down at the blade in his hand. “I can’t say, though, that I’m too fond of being threatened myself. What is it you’re hiding? Have you done something?”

“No!”

“Then what are you afraid of?” Thornden shot back at once. “Trystan, for heaven’s sake, I haven’t accused you of a single thing! You assume that what I ask is for your ruin, and I don’t have any such thing in mind. You keep talking as though I’m trying to prove something on you that isn’t true! There are two possibilities that might explain for your behavior – you have done something wrong and haven’t been found out yet, but think you might be on the verge of being discovered, or – you haven’t done anything wrong and someone who has the ability to get you into trouble says you have. For my part, I’d like to believe that you haven’t done any wrong, but from the way you’re acting, goodness knows!”

Trystan said nothing. He didn’t even look Thornden full in the face. His expression was hard and closed. His fake self had come back into place. But Thornden wasn’t fooled. Only annoyed.

“Speak to me!” he said sternly. “I can’t help you if you don’t say anything but lies. No one can.” Still the boy was silent. Thornden stood silently for a moment. The muscles in his jaw worked in and out. He looked again at the knife in his hand. Then he sighed a very deep sigh and looked back at Trystan. When he spoke again, his voice sounded tired. “We need to go back. You will come with me. I have to tell Eodwine and Saeryn what has passed here.”

Taralphiel

09-20-2006, 04:40 AM

“Hello, Lys,”

Lys started as he heard a voice next to him. He turned and saw two young men, a few years older than him, both tall and strong. The taller smiled and spoke kindly.

“I’m not sure we’ve ever really been introduced, but I’m Léof, the ostler, and this is Javan; he’s visiting Thornden his brother at the Hall. Anyhow, we were about to eat lunch and wondered if you might like to join us.”

The shadow of his fear lifted from him immediately as he replied warmly to the two.

"I would be very happy to! I am hungry, and I know so few people here. But you say you are Thornden's brother? That is great news! I'm sure he will be happy to see you..."

Hrethel coughed and Lys turned back to him. "I think you have some companions to spend your afternoon with, young man. I will not slow you up, and at any rate, I have chores to attend to. Mind you do not wear yourself out!"

Lys grinned. "I will be careful, Hrethel. Thank you for your care." Hrethel shook a hand in his direction. "Nay, it was a task easy to do. I will return to check on you."

As the Healer turned from the group, he nodded at Javan and Léof. "You take care of him. He is strong, and can hold his way, but he is not healed yet!" With this last warning, the Healer shuffled away from the Mead Hall in search of a steed to carry him back to Edoras.

"I am glad I have others to spend the day with" said Lys finally, "I feel a burden on Hrethel, and on Thornden. Everyone has been very kind to me. But I would now ask a kindness of you Léof, and ask you lead the way to the kitchens. I am still not familiar with the world away from my bed!"

Celuien

09-20-2006, 05:11 PM

The thought of a child starting to learn a trade too young was not one that had been in Garstan's mind. There were limits, of course. Strength of arm and body were needed. Garmund could wield the hammer well, so long as the work was light. The simpler tasks of carpentry were not beyond Cnebba. And those who came to apprenticeship with some skill already learned would find the years of training easier.

Still, Garstan had been without guidance in his choice to teach Garmund early. When they journeyed alone through Rohan, there had been no other way known to Garstan or his son. Garmund had been happy in learning stonecraft, and had shown gifts for the work. But since they had come to the Hall, things had changed, and Garmund would sometimes look away, listening to the sounds of the other children at play, and more eager than before to put his tools aside.

Mayhap he had been too strict with Garmund. Garstan thought of the boy's serious, thoughtful face that oft made him seem older than he was, and of the short times of high spirits that brought back the truth that Garmund was only a boy. Garstan could not, and would not, release him entirely from lessons, but he would think upon lessening the hours spent at the hammer.

Sliding his bowl to the edge of the table, Garmund spoke. "It seems to me, Stigend, that a likely lad cannot too soon begin to learn the skills of a trade, if his arm be steady and strong enough for it. But neither would I see him - Garmund or Cnebba - unhappy.

Might you bring Cnebba to learn some of the lesser tasks? It may be well too for me to leave Garmund free more. With neither always at play or yet always at work, the trouble might be eased."

Anguirel

09-22-2006, 12:24 PM

Since Eodwine had held court and fatefully taken Manawyth the Dunlending under his own protection, a great silence had fallen upon the foreign singer.

His music was utterly quashed, certainly. Every time he picked up a harp Manawyth felt like a usurper. He was no bard, he felt now, and he had lied within himself when he sold the sword that had protected him and marked him out.

It was the act of telling his story that had muted all subsequent stories.

They were all too vivid now, brothers living and dead, enemies living and dead, parents dead and sister...who knew? But they all spoke to him at night, and made him weep, secretly.

He kept his own company. He could not leave the Inn alone by the Eorl's edict, and so he rarely did at all. He drank, not in publicly in the mead hall in the raucous forgoil way, but alone, with a Dunlending passivity he took pride in. Defeated pride.

Falco Boffin's friendly greetings still occasionally reached him, but he rarely replied, and his tentative rapport with Thornden had quite decayed.

Often and long he lay on his straw pallet with furs about him, and waited for winter like a weary boar. But it was the very coming of the colder, crisper, autumn, that rebuked him, and reminded him of when he had been something better with better prospects.

Manawyth pulled himself from beneath the coverlet, struggled into a pair of boots and walked, more or less steadily, downstairs, following the call of chattering voices. They seemed more reassuring than mocking now; but he remained on his guard still.

Folwren

09-22-2006, 01:03 PM

Lys walked between Javan and Lèof as they walked into the Mead Hall. Lèof told them to sit down at one of the long, wooden tables while he would run off to find some food. Lys and Javan went over and sat down on the hard, wooden bench. There was a silence between the two of them. Javan looked around in great interest. Medreth and Saeryn were not in the room but near by there was a group of three older people, talking over their lunch, and just by them, two children sat.

His attention came back to the boy next to him as Lys made a slight movement on the bench. “Do you know my brother?” he asked. “Thornden?”

“Yes,” Lys said, looking up with a smile. “He’s the one who found me and brought me here. And while I was healing, he visited me a lot and told me stuff that was going on and helped me get better.”

“What was wrong with you?” Javan asked, curious, as most boys his age are.

“I think I had a couple broken ribs and a broken ankle, too. I couldn’t stand for a long time. It was very dreary, being alone most of the day in my room.”

“I’m sure it was,” Javan said, understandingly. “How’d you get hurt so bad? Don’t you have parents who’d take care of you?”

“I’m back!” Lèof announced, interrupting the answer. “Here, Lys, take one of these bowls before I drop it.” He stood behind the two of them and bent over slightly towards Lys. Lys turned and took the offered bowl and Lèof set another one down before Javan before sitting down on his other side.

littlemanpoet

09-22-2006, 07:56 PM

"Where were you?" Thornden demanded, for Falco had just led Garmund back into the circular enclosure.

"Exploring," Falco answered with a tip of his head in the direction from which they had come. He winked at Garmund, who flashed a smile.

Thornden saw the wink and scowled, turning to the boy. "Garmund, I told you to stay here! And Master Boffin, you were supposed to stay and watch him!"

Falco raised his head and stood straight, pulling himself to as much height as he owned. "You've no call ordering me around, Master Thornden, almbudsman or not, as I ain't beholden to you for nothing but my word. And my word is that I'm beholden to Garstan for they boy, as much as you, and here he is safe and sound and never out from under my eye. I just wish I could say the same for your care of him, leavin' him all alone to be stumbled on by anyone at all. Lucky it was for us that it was Trystan who found him and not some scoundrel we don't know from an orc."

"I-" Thornden began to protest but Falco cut him off.

"Now I won't go tellin' on you to Garstan that you left the boy all alone, leastways not lest you do somethin' so tweenish again!"

Thornden was beginning to turn a strange color in the face, which Falco took for pent up dander. He admitted to himself that he was having more fun riling the almbudsman than he ought to, but there it was.

Thinlómien

09-23-2006, 04:39 AM

"Dad, I'm not a baby", Cnebba said defiantly. Modtryth cast a venomous look at Stigend.
"No one has said anything like that, dear", Modtryth replied him. "Now, you two seem to have eaten your food." Lèoðern nodded, but Cnebba seemed to sense what his mother was going to say. Before he could open his mouth, she said: "I saw two frogs on the yard near the new kitchen a while ago. The bigger one was this big." She spread her fingers at least five inches from each other.
"Let's go, Cnebba! I want to see it!" Lèoðern jumped from her seat. "Can we go to see the frogs, daddy?"
"Of course", Garstan smiled. The girl ran to the door. She turned. Cnebba was still sitting at the table.
"Cnebba, come", she urged.
The boy sighed, cast a grudging look at his mother and ran after his friend.

The adults watched them race off and Modtryth started to speak before Stigend could reply Garstan himself. "Cnebba is eight. He is only a child." She knew it was not unusual that a child started to learn the family trade at the age if eight, or even earlier. "And carpentry is dangerous work", she continued, casting a meaningful look at her husband. He maybe thought she hadn't noticed the tiny rip on his trousers, or that he was slightly favoring his other leg.

--------------------------------

Nogrod's post

Gah! Modryth was tough and crafty as usual. Just a moment before Stigend had been most confident that things were at last going his way but now he wasn’t so sure any more. Indeed he started to have doubts about his success. Everything Modtryth said were both true and reasonable: Cnebba was just eight, carpentry wasn’t the safest of the trades... Stigend felt his leg still aching.

“Maybe Cnebba would do better beginning something else, at least for the time being? You know how he’s interested in all things in nature. Maybe someone here would be willing to teach him those things? Or how he’s interested in all the tales of old and new, or how he likes to count and sort all kinds of things and arrange them. I admire your trade dear husband, but I do think Cnebba’s talents may lie elsewhere. We do not yet know what will he grow up to be”, Modryth said and looked at Stigend challengingly. Garstan frowned. This seemed like a topic those two had argued over quite a few times before and he had no wish to put his head in between the two.

Stigend was indeed preparing himself for defeat. When Modryth took a position this firmly there was no turning her head, at least with means known to Stigend. He swallowed the piece of bread he had been chewing and took a sip of the wine. Then he looked at both Garstan and Modtryth and said half-jokingly, trying to win time to have one more decent argument: “Maybe you should take him with you when you go to the town for your duties?” With that he nodded smilingly to Garstan.

“Yes, why not. That's a good idea indeed.” Modryth seemed happy with the idea. Stigend stiffened down to his toes. “And Leothern is surely welcome to join us, if that suits you Garstan? They could learn so many things about measures and qualities, and they would meet different people and learn about different characters. And...”

“Allright, Modryth! My son is no merchant... and will not become one!” Stigend was clearly agitated. He dropped his spoon into his bowl somewhat ostentatiously and pushed the bowl away from him like he was about make a leave immediately.

But Garstan laid his hand over Stigend’s and looked at him straight to the eye. Stigend froze back to his seat. “Let’s give her a chance, my friend? Now, she will not turn our children into fraudulent merchants by just taking them to learn a couple of new things on the market!” Stigend hesitated. He didn’t know what to say or do. They were both against him, but they were speaking sense too. Stigend was baffled.

While Stigend was speechless, Garstan continued: “I suggest the following. Modtryth takes Cnebba and Leothern with her to the town, now what is it, once or twice a week?” He turned towards Modtryth with the question. She nodded back to Garstan and immediately flashed a triumphant smile to Stigend. “So on those days I’ll take Garmund with me to learn stonework. Not one child is forced to be separated from the others as the others play and our problem is solved. Doesn’t that sound reasonable to you Stigend?” With that Garstan patted Stigends hand lightly. Stigend withdrew his hand from under Garstan’s but then, after a moment’s hesitation, took hold of it.

“Maybe you’re right my friend. Maybe you’re right my wife.” He glanced to the contendedly smiling Modtryth beside him. “It does solve our problem, and what comes to Cnebba’s future... well he has a lots of it in front of him, days and years to come. Maybe we should not decide that yet...”

So they finished their supper, mainly sharing funny incidents their children had been involved in before the time they had known each other. They were laughing a lot and slowly even Stigend started to regain his usual hearty mood.

“By the way”, Stigend said, when they were getting their empties to the kitchen, “my job of hewing the baulks is getting ready. It will be done in just a couple of days. Then I would need a few pairs of strong hands to aid me to actually put the walls together into a framework. We need to hoist those heavy logs on top of each other and secure them with dowels. The children should be away from the site then. To be sure... I guess I will need to ask lord Eodwine for a couple of men to help me there, but I would really appreciate your help there too Garstan – if your own work allows you to join in.”

“My work with the oven is getting ready, so rest assured, I will be there.” Garstan answered. “I’m looking forwards to it. Maybe I’ll learn something, as you did when you helped me with the brickwork”, with this he smiled to Stigend and he smiled back. Modtryth was smiling too, albeit for very different reasons.

Folwren

09-24-2006, 12:23 PM

Thornden bit down on his tongue savagely. He dearly wished Falco stood about three feet taller just now. It wouldn’t be an honorable thing to say or do any one of the ideas that popped into his head just at that moment. To argue would be childish, to strike out would be cowardly and stupid. He was annoyed to feel a hot flush rise to his face.

“Are you ready to go back, then?” he asked shortly after a pause. But still Falco’s words rankled him. ‘Now I won’t go tellin’ on you to Garstan that you left the boy alone…’ “I left the boy alone?” he burst out. “I wouldn’t be afraid of you telling anybody!”

“Well, you did leave him, didn’t you?” Falco asked, a mischievous (and infuriating) twinkle in his eye. Thornden felt Trystan’s gaze on him, and he saw Falco’s difficultly kept serious face and Garmund’s weak attempt to keep from laughing. He generally wouldn’t mind being laughed at, but Falco was painting him up to be ridiculous and foolish, and he did it in such a way that left Thornden almost entirely defenseless.

“Falco,” he said, his voice quivering with the effort to keep it even and low. “You know very well that I had little choice but to leave him in order to go and make certain that you weren’t being hurt or killed. You can say what you like when we get back to the hall, but if you open your mouth to make me out to be the careless one, I’ll tell Eodwine you’re not fit to leave the court without supervision on account of your foolish curiosity and daft disobedience to common sense. We’re leaving. Now.” He jerked his head in the general direction of the horses and stalked to the wall of ivy that they had come through when they first arrived. He swept away the broken branches and held it open for the others to pass through before him.

littlemanpoet

09-24-2006, 07:01 PM

Falco chuckled. Thornden could be fun.

"Now now, Master Thornden, Eodwine knows me far better than do you, an' I'm just pricklin' you for fun. No need to get all bebothered. I-"

"Rilef I'm called."

Falco noted Thornden's eyes suddenly widen before he turned himself to see Lefun and Ritun, only they had the look of one man with a sack on his back again.

Garmund cried, "Lefun! Ritun! You're-"

"Garmund! Hush now!" Falco cried, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder and quickly whispered into his ear. "Play along with the twins now, eh?" Garmund's eyes became circles and his lips turned into an 'O'; Falco was satisfied that he understood.

"Rilef," Falco said, "Welcome. Would you come to the Mead Hall with us?"

'Rilef' eyed Trystan and Thornden with thinly veiled suspicion and fear; but Trystan seemed suddenly to have been put at his ease for reasons Falco could only guess at. Rilef (it was Lefun with Ritun holding tight round his neck) finally settled his gaze on Falco.

"Aye. With you and the boy I go. These two walk ahead."

Taralphiel

09-24-2006, 07:15 PM

"I’m back!"

Lys was almost delighted to hear Lèof's voice. He knew very well Javan meant no harm in his questions. His condition could have been caused by a brave fall, or could even have a brave story of rescue by his Uncle to tell. But it was nothing so heroic on Lys' part, and nothing he liked to think about amongst kind company.

"Here, Lys, take one of these bowls before I drop it." Lys reached up and took the warm bowl, wincing just a little as the weight bore on his tender ribs. But neither of the boys saw him discomfort, and for that he was glad. Lys looked about as he slowly ate his meal, marvelling at how the Hall came alive for the midday meal. Lys picked out carefully all sort of interesting folk, and tried to match them to the stories that Thornden had told him. Lys then saw the figre of a tall man walk silently into the room. He at once knew this man was Manawyth. Trying to keep his gaze from looking too obvious, Lys looked and wondered why this man was so separated from all the rest gathering for his lunch. His appearance, true, was a bit different. But Lys could only look with childish wonder at the Dunlending. He seemed to be troubled, and Lys could not understand why.

Looking back at his meal, Lys began to think out loud about his friend.

"I wonder when Thornden will return? He did not say where he would be going today. I do not know how long you have been here, Javan. Perhaps you know?"

Folwren

09-27-2006, 08:36 PM

In a flash of thought, it all became very clear to Thornden. Falco’s and Garmund’s disappearance seemed explained. He had been duped, fooled, into going after Trystan so that Falco and Garmund could speak to this man, and now he was coming to the Mead Hall! He drew a great breath, his eye never leaving Rilef. Finally, he looked away and his gaze settled on Falco.

“This is your doing, no doubt.”

“Nay, my dear fellow, more of Gamunds, I’d say,” the hobbit replied.

“Be that as it may, do you think it is wise?”

“You’re on your way to ruining everything Garmund and I fixed up with this fellow. Now, just run along and do as he asks. It’ll be fine. I’ll explain everything to Eodwine. Rilef is a harmless chap. He won’t hurt anybody!”

Thornden looked again at Rilef. He hadn’t moved a step and he stood as still as a statue, waiting, until Trystan and Thornden moved off. What was he to do in such a position? Falco wasn’t inclined to do anything he said anyway, so why even bother to argue with him? If he was asked to explain Rilef’s appearance, he could always give that as an excuse. Oh, excellent excuse, Thornden, my man, he thought bitterly. A hobbit made you do something you didn’t want to do.

Yet what was the actual danger in it? There had been doubtful and possibly dangerous folk pass through the Mead Hall. And now, on closer and more careful examination, Rilef wasn’t quite as huge as he had first imagined in his surprise. Falco did say he was harmless. He also knew Eodwine a great deal better, he claimed. What was more, it wasn’t fair to deny Rilef free passage to the hall. He was a man, regardless of how wild and un-kept her looked.

Finally, after long seconds of heavy silence, Thornden shrugged and his tense muscled relaxed slightly. “Very well,” he said in a clipped tone. “As long as you are willing to vouch for him.”

Falco nodded and smiled. “I am!” he said cheerfully. Thornden turned away and ducked through the broken vines and went down the near invisible path towards the horses.

Folwren

09-27-2006, 08:55 PM

“I haven’t been here very long,” Javan said, glancing up from his bowl. “My sister and I only arrived. . .maybe half of an hour ago. Lèof and I have been busy since then putting up the horses. And then after that, he showed me the other horses he had and we talked about his horse and how they’re friends and all that jolly stuff.

“I don’t know anything about where the ol’ Thorn’s got off to. All I heard was that he wasn’t here and he might be back for the evening meal. But that’s still a long way off. Besides, if I know anything about Thorn, he’ll get hungry before then. I also think since he forgot totally about us coming today, he’s got to remember sometime and then he’ll come back. You’ll see.

“Do you know my brother well? He never writes us hardly any letters at all, so I haven’t heard of anybody, except lord Eodwine. Do you suppose I’ll be able to meet him? Is he a very great man? When Thorn wrote about coming here and trying for the place of steward to lord Eodwine, I always imagined the eorl at least as tall as Thornden, a grave, stern chap, but who occasionally gave a nice smile. I mean, he used to be a warrior, didn’t he? He must be grim, isn’t he?” He looked curiously at his two companions.

Taralphiel's Post

Lys paused a moment. To be truthful, he knew little about the Lord of the Mead Hall. He was the first man he had met once he woke, and he seemed to be very kind. Lys had not seen him as a man of war, though through Thornden's stories of the past few weeks with the kidnap of Lady Linduial, he knew well of his bravery.

"I do not know very much about Lord Eodwine, save that he is a very good and kind man. I have only spoken to him once, but he has let me stay here without a word of payment in return. Any Lord to be so kind could not be a completely grim man."

littlemanpoet

09-29-2006, 09:09 PM

Thornden mounted his horse while Trystan walked ahead. Falco did not ride, nor did Garmund, but walked with 'Rilef'. Falco wiped at his eyes periodically, for the stench of the men was horrible. Garmund sneezed often on the way, blaming the dust from the road, but Falco knew better. It was slow going for 'Rilef' was barefooted and seemed content to take his time. Lefun was the eyes for the twins, but Ritun seemed to have his ears cocked for every little sound, for the 'sack' twitched now and then, and the 'tie' around Lefun's neck moved about of its own accord; not enough for Thornden and Trystan to notice, not knowing what to look for, but it was clear enough to Garmund by the way his eyes followed the twins.

Finally they reached the Mead Hall. Falco motioned and cajoled 'Rilef' to the back yard where there was a makeshift shower consisting of four wooden walls, an old wooden tub, and a bucket of water raised over the head on the remains of an old tree, its trunk rising higher than Thornden could reach on his tip toes. Saeryn had insisted upon it's being built, which Stigend had managed in all of one day.

"Now Garmund," Falco said turning to the boy, "let's keep mum until we're ready to spring the news, eh?" Garmund nodded. "That's a good lad."

"Here, Rilef," said Falco, handing them a bar of coarse soap, "you stink to be frank." Garmund nodded energetically. "Wash yourselves up and you'll be presentable."

In the approximate privacy of the makeshift shower room, Rilef became Lefun and Ritun again, and they both stared at the bar of soap dubiously. "Rub this on me?"

"Yes, that's right, with water."

Lefun held the bar up to Ritun's nose, who sniffed then wrinkled his nose. He opened his mouth to bite a bit off.

"Don't eat it!" Falco cried. "Here, let me show you!" Garmund fell to the trying to keep as 'mum' as possible in the midst of his giggles. Falco proceeded to demonstrate the use of the soap bar on his hands, drying them on his own tunic. "There. Now you try."

Closing the 'door', if door it could be called, Falco looked at Garmund with an expression of my what we have gotten ourselves into!. Garmund grinned, putting his not entirely clean hand over his mouth.

"Are we going to bring them to my Dad and Lord Eodwine?"

"That we will. What think you we should say to them?"

Celuien

09-30-2006, 12:20 PM

Garmund had not thought through all of the things that would need explaining at the hall. Falco's question caught him off guard, and Garmund's lip went under his teeth.

"I don't know what we should say. We can't," Garmund pointed over where the sack lay on the ground, "We can't tell them that Rilef is Rit..."

Falco raised a finger to his lips. "I'd say not. Leastways not right off."

"No. Well, suppose we tell them we found a lost stranger out by the ruins and brought him here. My dad always used to say to give help to those needing it. And Rilef looked like he needed our help."

A low hum came from the shower. The twins were learning to enjoy their bath.

Garmund frowned. "They'll have to find out before too long. Lord Eodwine and Dad, I mean. How long can we keep the secret?"

Folwren

10-01-2006, 06:42 PM

Thornden rode straight to the stables where he dismounted and led his horse inside. “Lèof!” he called. Horses poked their heads out over their stable doors, but Lèof didn’t answer. “Lèofric!” Still no answer. “Probably eating,” Thornden muttered to himself. He tied his horse to one of the rings and set to unsaddling. He put his horse away, leaving further care of the horse to Lèof and headed inside.

A simple glance around the main hall showed him that neither Saeryn nor Eodwine were there. Lèof sat at a table to his right, his back to Thornden, and beside him, a boy who’s back of the head Thornden didn’t recognize, and on the other side of that, good gracious, it was Lys! Thornden felt sorry he had not been there to see Lys come out. He approached, both to speak to Lys and to tell Lèof that his horse probably needed seeing after.

Before he got there, they all three turned to see who came near and he stopped suddenly as he recognized his brother Javan.

Javan leaped up from his seat. “Thornden!” he cried, stepping over the bench and towards his brother. “It’s about time you got back, did you forget we were coming?”

“Quite forgot,” Thornden said allowing himself to be hugged. “When did you get here?”

“Nigh an hour ago, I’d guess,” Javan said. “Or more. We’re almost done with the meal as it is. Where’ve you been?”

“Exploring somewhere with Falco and Garmund is all. Falco’s a hobbit and Garmund is a boy. Lèof, my horse needs seeing after. I’ve unsaddled him and put him back into his stall, but I didn’t rub him down. He’s not in too desperate need of it, I guess. Javan, I’m so sorry I forgot. Is Medreth here?”

“Aye, she’s here,” Javan said with a huge grin. “She’s probably going to knock your head off. She said she would, if you forgot, and you certainly have forgotten. I’m not sure where she is just now. She and lady Saeryn walked off someplace.”

“Dear me, she’s already met lady Saeryn,” Thornden said in a distracted sort of way. “Thanks, Javan. Finish eating. I’ll be back shortly, I think. I’m going to find her first.”

Lys stared as Javan embraced his brother and talked cheerfully with him. The picture of Thornden with a family gave him a small pang of loneliness. But it was not lasting. Thornden called to Léof, and Lys smiled and nodded at the young man as he was called back to his duties. Lys turned back to his food, content to let Thornden be reunited with his family.

“You have a happy family.” Lys said gently as Javan sat back down. “How many are you? It must be nice to have so many people about to keep you company.”

“There’s six of us children in all,” Javan answered Lys, picking up his spoon again. “Only four living at home now, though, of course. Medreth’s married, you know, and Thornden’s here! Nice to have so many? Not at all, my dear fellow! Do you know what’s it’s like having three older sisters at home? All telling you what to do? It’s like having three extra mothers!” Lys chuckled, and Javan grinned in return before setting about to finishing his meal.

littlemanpoet

10-01-2006, 06:43 PM

The lad was a bright boy. Falco smiled. "Maybe we ought to tell only your Dad and Lord Eodwine first, eh?"

Garmund looked like he was thinking hard for a moment before he nodded slowly and seriously.

"Right then," Falco smiled, pulling out his pipe and Old Toby from his vest pocket. "Now where did I put my flint?" He patted his pockets to right and left of his protruding belly. "Ah! Here it is!" He produced the flint and lit his quickly filled bowl under the fascinated eyes of Garmund. Soon he was producing smoke rings; Garmund tried to hit them with his hand and turn them into so much shapeless patches in the air.

Meanwhile, the twins were humming and mumbling to each other in their bath. Falco wondered what it would be like to have a partner stuck to himself, sharing the same pair of hips and legs, someone to always have to look out for and talk to, or ignore and be angry at like as not. It seemed such a bother. He sympathized with the plight of the twins before forcing his thought away from such wildness altogether.

"How are you coming, Rilef?" Falco asked.

"Rubbed raw!" said Lefun. "Right good!" said Ritun. Luckily their voices sounded like enough that anybody overhearing would think only one man had spoken.

"Now Garmund," Falco said, "Lord Eodwine's not back till sundown I'm thinking, off to the King's hall Meduseld he is, so we need to keep Rilef hid till the sun goes down. Where do you s'pose we should hide 'im?"

Celuien

10-02-2006, 07:16 PM

"Well, it's hard to hide around here. There's always someone in the stables and in the yard." Garmund had wandered over most of the hall and its grounds with Cnebba and Lèoðern and knew well that there were few quiet places. Everyone was up and busy during the day, from the moment they left their rooms until they went back to their rooms after supper.

And that was the answer. Garmund grinned. "What about in one of the rooms? No one goes back there in the day. If we can slip inside without being seen, we could hide them there, at least until until tonight."

littlemanpoet

10-03-2006, 06:08 PM

That is precisely what they did. There was one room that had not yet been taken by anyone, and Falco led Rilef inside. Once inside, the door tightly closed, Ritun took his hands from around Lefun's neck and stretched.

"Good we hide not so much."

"Maybe more," Lefun said darkly, his brows lowreing.

"If it comes to that," said Falco, "you're better off in the ruin. I say you've half a chance or better here. You'll see once Eodwine returns."

Folwren

10-05-2006, 08:09 PM

Thornden found his sister in the kitchen, with Kara, Fordides, and Saeryn. All four of them sat at the table, talking and laughing as though they had all known each other forever. The mirth stopped as he opened the door and entered and all of them looked up. Kara half rose, expecting to have to serve up another plate. But when they saw that it was Thornden, Medreth made it to her feet before Kara had.

“Thornden! Where’ve you been?”

“I’m sorry, Medreth,” Thornden replied. “A couple of us went exploring in some old ruins nearby. I did get your letter and I did remember, until Falco started talking about going on an adventure.” Medreth shook her head, giving him a look that he read quite easily – ‘Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Running off after adventures at your age!’ “I am sorry,” he said again. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

“Oh, no, not too long,” Medreth said, brightening instantly. “We’ve been having a very fun time, just talking. But I am surprised you weren’t here. Kara, get him a plateful, please. You must be starved, Thornden. Will you join us?”

“I think I’d do better with the boy’s eating outside in the main hall,” Thornden told her, sending an uncomfortable glance at Saeryn. “Did you bring anyone else with you, other than Javan?”

“No, it’s only us two today, big brother. Father sent me on an errand and with a message. He knew I wanted to come see you. I am starting back in an hour, I think, to make it back with plenty of daylight. But you must sit with me, I’ve got something to ask you. Here, Kara, set that here.”

Kara obediently set the steaming bowl full of stew beside Medreth. Thornden sighed in defeat, an easily won battle for Medreth. “Let me wash my hands and then I’ll join you.” In a minute, he sat down by his sister. “So, what is your question?” he asked as he picked up his spoon. He paused with it half way to his mouth and leant towards her. “It had better not be if I’m planning on getting married,” he whispered savagely.

Medreth laughed gaily. “No, no, you silly boy, nothing of the kind – though are you?” Thornden looked away, rolling his eyes and frowning. Medreth laughed again. “No, it’s something entirely different. I came with Javan to ask a favor of you, or, maybe it’ll be more of a favor of the lord Eodwine. But he is not here today, so I thought I could just as well as you. You are his steward, aren’t you?”

“No,” Thornden said. “Just his almsbudsman. I am not fit for a stewardship yet. Saeryn here may be able to answer your question, though. Fire away, and quit taking such a long time with getting to the point.”

“Right. Well,” Medreth went on, shifting on her seat and glancing from Thornden to Saeryn and back again. “Father asked me to ask you if Javan could stay here and become part of the eorl’s court. He thought it would be a good idea if Javan got a foothold here in Edoras earlier in life, you know.”

“But I thought he wanted someone to take over the land!” Thornden said in surprise as he stopped eating to look at her. “He protested so much when I left!”

“Yes, Thornden, but you were the oldest. Javan’s the youngest, and he doesn’t have a mind for farming. He’s smart, Thornden, and dreadful impatient. He loves horses, but that’s all. And he only likes horses because they can be exciting. He hates crops and cows more than you! Idread had an excellent mind for all that sort of thing. He’s grown up a lot since you’ve left, Thorn. You’d hardly know him. He’s doing most of the work with father now. He’s constantly by his side. He’s going to take over after him.”

“What does Javan think of being left out of it? I mean, at least I left of my own will, but it sounds like Father’s sending Javan off here whether he likes it or not!”

“Javan’s up for the adventure.” Thornden made an impatient movement. “I know what you’ll say - it’s more than an adventure, it’s deciding what he’ll do with his life - but you’ll admit, won’t you, Thornden, that if he starts earlier in learning things here in Edoras the better off he’ll be when he becomes a man? What do you say? Can he stay?”

Thornden hesitated a moment. He looked up at Saeryn who gave him a small smile. “Lord Eodwine said he will not be returning until nightfall,” Thornden replied, looking again at Medreth. “You have to start back before then. I would say, leave Javan here for now and if Eodwine cannot have him, I’ll escort him back one day.”

“Thank you, Thornden!” Medreth said, her face lighting up. To his great surprise, she threw her arms about his neck in a girlish, impulsive hug. “They’ll be so happy at home!”

JennyHallu

10-06-2006, 12:58 PM

As the sun set and the members of Eodwine's chaotic household began to settle down to their meals, Marenil made his way slowly through the halls and tables, seeking out those Linduial had sent letters. He found Saeryn in the kitchen with Thornden and his young brother, and handed her both hers and Degas' letters with a silent shrug, not wishing to interrupt the spirited discussion. Saeryn raised her eyebrows when she saw Degas' name etched on one envelope in Lin's elegant hand, and Marenil shrugged again. He didn't know why the lad had practically fled the Hall, and he wasn't sure he particularly cared. With a father's fierce protectiveness, he was sure that neither Degas, nor any other lad that walked the earth and was not yet spoken of in song, was good enough for his pretty Lin.

He slipped out of the kitchen as quietly as he'd slipped in, searching for little Leodern and her father. He smiled. Here was an attachment he could whole-heartedly approve of. He had a great respect for Garstan, and the child was bright and trainable--and showed like to be as pretty as any King's court could boast of, a superficial trait, perhaps, but as tangible an advantage as any in the sophisticated circles Lin would walk in. A bit young for a real companion, perhaps...

He found Garstan almost by running into him, though he didn't immediately see the girl. Offering a quiet greeting, he took a seat beside the man and laid out the letter (this one in large block letters, he noticed with a smile, so the child could learn to read it as quickly as she learned the letters at all) on the table, along with the thin package.

"What are those?" the artisan asked, looking at them almost suspiciously.

"Well, this," Marenil said, tapping the letter with a thick finger, "is a letter to your daughter, from Lady Lin. I thought I would stay until she returned to you this even, and read it to her." He made the offer matter-of-factly, neither surprised nor upset over Garstan's apparent illiteracy. "And the package is a gift, to and from the same. I haven't read the letter yet, but I know what's in the package. I gave it to Lin myself, almost fifteen years ago, when she was only a bit younger than Leodern."

Garstan picked up the package, inspecting it carefully. "Some sort of book?" he asked briefly.

"A lesson-book," Marenil elaborated. "For the teaching of reading and writing. Lin's asked me to teach Leodern to read, which, honestly, I'm rather eager to do. Don't have enough to do here, not that uses my skills. I suppose any of the other children are welcome to join the lessoning too, if you or Stigend wish to send them early in the mornings. I'll teach them figuring and bookkeeping too, if it please you."

Folwren

10-12-2006, 07:15 PM

Medreth had, in her letter, asked Thornden to arrange an escort for her return journey. As the time for her departure drew near she asked him what he had planned. “I figured on going back with you myself,” he told her quietly. “See the family, and your son. I only half hoped that you would manage to bring him, and as you haven’t, I’m even more happy to go with you.”

“But – but what about Javan meeting lord Eodwine?”

“Oh, he’ll do very well by himself. I can ask Saeryn to get him ready when his time of return draws near, if that will comfort you. But, really, I think I’ll be able go with you and get back only a little while after Eodwine returns himself, and if I am not very long in returning, then I will still be able to introduce Javan before Eodwine asks too many questions."

So they settled it. A little more than an hour after they had finished the midday meal, Thornden and Medreth left the Mead Hall. Javan watched them go and sighed as they disappeared down the road. But it was not a melancholy sigh and the look on his face was nowhere near melancholy, either. Javan considered it no bad thing that he was left with no one in definite charge of him.

He spent a great deal of the afternoon in the stables, speaking with and helping Lèof. Lys joined them at first, but after a while, he grew tired and Lèof gently advised him to go inside and rest. After spending a couple of hours there, Javan took his leave of Lèof and the horses and went out. He left the Hall and courtyard entirely and he set out on foot to explore the city of Edoras.

Not until dusk began to fall did he finally return to the hall. Saeryn took charge of him almost as soon as he stepped foot indoors. Thornden had spoken to her before he left and she took full responsibility. Within minutes he was entirely washed up and looked quite presentable, and then he was sat down to dinner, being told that he’d better eat quickly – Eodwine could be expected any moment.

Celuien

10-12-2006, 07:58 PM

Garstan held the book, noting how small it felt in his hand. Such a weighty matter for so light a trinket. He had never gone beyond writing his name and a few simple words for the tools of his trade. He had never had the need to learn more, but he knew that Lèoðern would have need of those skills when she joined Lady Linduial, and he thought that Garmund should learn if his sister did. Garstan would not have his children grow apart through one's learning and another's lacking of the same chance.

With a slight bow at the shoulder, Garstan said, "I should be happy to send both of the children for lessons. Figuring and bookkeeping would please me well. It would be a comfort to know that Garmund could attend to the business of his trade as well as the craft."

Stigend seemed to have been listening closely to Marenil. "I would like to send Cnebba too. Some book learning would do him good."

He looked at Garstan and grinned. "And here, maybe, is an end to our other problem. With all three busy together in lessons, no one will be left out."

littlemanpoet

10-14-2006, 06:14 AM

It was after sundown when Eodwine finally returned to the Mead Hall. His intereviews with the King and the Queen were only the first of a series. There was talk to be done with the king's steward, with Haleth's replacement, one Brenwald.

At long last he walked Flíthaf into his stall and took care of his harness and brushing down; it seemed Léofric was at supper. Well and good enough; the boy had a right to eat.

Eodwine mulled over what he had been told: move the mead hall to Sorn's old lands; give Saeryn to be one of the queen's ladies; start searching for likely warriors amongst the young lads of the Middle Emnet; and all that beside his original purpose of having gone to clear up the matter of the flow of coin.

Eodwine left the stables and entered the main hall. There were many milling about. To Eodwine's great pleasure Garreth and Harreld were there. Their presence always seemed to make the place seem more bright and cheery. Well of course, Garreth had enough cheer to lighten any dark hole. Falco was nowhere to be seen, but that was not so unusual. There was a seat at the table of the blacksmith twins. Eodwine took it.

littlemanpoet

10-20-2006, 06:47 PM

Eodwine was just starting into his tankard of ale and rashers of bacon with brown bread slathered with cream, listening to Garreth hold forth on his own well honed skills in reading women (much to the mirth of the others around the board), when Falco tapped him on the shoulder.

"I have somewhat for you to see in a room upstairs," said the Hobbit.

"Can it wait a bit? I'm half starved and just into my munching."

"This shan't wait. You'll see."

Mysterious! Eodwine stood and noisily backed his chair from the board by way of showing his pique at being forced to leave off

~ * ~

Falco led Eodwine into one of the rooms upstairs. Sitting next to Garmund on the bed was a monster. Get the boy away from that monster! was Eodwine's first thought. The boy and the monster were playing 'rock, leaf, sheers', and both were silly giggling. The monster stopped abruptly and looked, both heads, at Eodwine, all four blood shot eyes showing their whites.

"These are Lefun and Ritun," said Falco, "they're twins. We found 'em in the ruins off a ways down the road from Edoras."

The monsters stood. "Much bliged we be to ye lord," the one on the right mumbled.

Eodwine was at a loss for appropriate words, and so gave up on appropriateness. "Are you human?"

"We be Eorling but none will ha' us to home, lord," said the talkative one.

Eodwine cleared his throat. "Er, what can you do to earn your keep?"

"Anything, lord, so long as safe we be from men's hardness."

The pathetic look of suffering in their eyes melted Eodwine's heart. He could about imagine what the life of these two must have been like.

"Stay here and I'll see that food is brought up."

The two bowed. "Thanks to you, lord."

Falco and Garmund were grinning broadly.

"Can I go tell my pa now?" Garmund cried.

"Have him brought up to the room and sworn to silence for now," Eodwine said.

"You heard the Eorl, boy! Go get your pa!"

Garmund tore out of the room.

Celuien

10-22-2006, 03:57 PM

Garmund ran down the stairs, almost ready to shout for joy. Lefun and Ritun had been seen as they were, and they were to stay. The Eorl had been as kind to them as Garmund had hoped, and the look of wonder and happiness the twins wore at their welcome left no doubt that bringing them here had been wise.

Garmund tore into the great hall and scanned the room in search of his father. Not finding him there, he went on to the kitchen, nearly running headlong into several of the household.

He found his father there, seated in a corner near the stove, slowly turning the pages of a small book.

After speaking with Marenil, Garstan had asked to keep the small book for a time. Marenil had given him a knowing glance before nodding and leaving the book with Garstan, asking that it should be returned for lessons in the morning. It had spent the rest of the day in Garstan's tool bag until, as the sun dropped behind the edge of the land, he found a quiet corner in the kitchen and held it again. He been studying the letters in the book by the low firelight in the kitchen, and trying his best to stay out of Cook's way, for the last few hours.

Letters and figures. Garstan knew little of them. He had never needed to know more than he did. But now, with both his children about to learn, a thirst for that knowledge awoke in him. He could not join the children's lessons. A grown man among a group of children who had not seen ten winters could only look foolish. And he had the task of teaching his own children apart from lessons in reading. How could he be their teacher if he joined them as a pupil? And so he quietly claimed the book for the evenings, hoping that he could piece together the puzzle on its pages through the use of his own small knowledge.

"Father! Come! Hurry!"

"What?" The book was closed hurriedly and hidden away under Garstan's tunic. "Garmund?"

The boy was already pulling at his father's arm. "Hurry. Upstairs. The Eorl wants you."

Garstan rose. His first thought had been that there was something amiss, but Garmund's excited voice ended that fear. Curious, he followed Garmund up the stairs and through a door near the end of the hallway.

He first saw Eodwine and Falco. Then he noticed another man in the room. He looked again. There were two - no one, but yet two, and he took a step backward, looking from one face to the other in confusion, and not knowing what to say next.

littlemanpoet

10-23-2006, 07:27 PM

Garstan looked surprised. Well he might, thought Eodwine.

"Garstan," said Falco, "these are Ritun and Lefun, twins that your son and I found in the ruins off east of here. They have become our friends." Falco turned to the twins. "Ritun, Lefun, this is Garstan, the stoneshaper of this hall, and father of Garmund. He is a good man (as men go) and can keep our secret."

"Thanks, Falco, for making introductions," said Eodwine. "I have told them that they may stay here and be safe. For now only we know they are here, and I would have it stay that way until we have made plans."

"Pardon, lord," Falco coughed, "but Thornden and Trystan also know they are here, but not that they be two."

"I see."

"Lefun, Ritun, show the Eorl and the stoneshaper how you make like you are but one."

The twins nodded and performed the transformation before them, complete with rough tunic covering Ritun. It was a most unique transformation to say the least, to Eodwine's mind. He was racking his brain to figure out how to introduce this pair to the rest of the household in a way that would not be overly upsetting to either, and was coming to no answer.

"That is enough, Lefun and Ritun," he said. "Please be at your ease." As they unraveled from their contrived knot, Eodwine turned to Garstan. "Have you any suggestions how we might best make these two known to the others and the others to this pair without overmuch trouble?

~ * ~

Garreth and Harreld hold forth in the hall

"Women, now," said Garreth loudly as he set down his ale cup with a loud report on the board, "there's a way about them that it takes a wise man to figger out!" He looked around the table conspiratorially, including the women of which he spoke, "an' I know the secret!"

"Garreth," Harreld chided, "if you know a secret about women I for one don't know how you learnt it, not having been near any in the last five years!"

"Little you know!" Garreth retorted amid the laughter of the others. "You're not always a-by me! Most times when you've drunk yourself under the table and art snoring to scare away the rats, I leave you and use my born charms to good ef- ef- ef- er, to the good."

"You're dreaming while you snore under the table yourself!" Harreld said.

"Don't listen to him, friends! Who of you wants to know the secret?"

Folwren

10-23-2006, 07:42 PM

At dinner, Javan once more found himself sitting with Lèof and Lys. Near the beginning of the meal, two young, largely built men entered the company. They were accepted immediately with merry greetings and broad smiles. Javan soon understood their warm welcome as, while they ate, they talked and joked quite easily and in such a fashion that he found himself laughing despite not being acquainted with them. With their jovial conversation, he quite forgot to watch for Eodwine’s return and when Lèof nudged him with his elbow, he jumped with surprise.

“There’s lord Eodwine,” Lèof said in an undertone, nodding his head respectfully towards a man just entering the building. Javan stared for a moment, before remembering himself, and looked quickly away. Lèof was quickly eating the remainder of his food. He stood up, picking up his plate. “His horse may need tending to,” he explained.

“I’m done. I’ll go with you,” Javan replied, leaping up immediately. “Lys, do you want to come?” He asked, pausing before rushing away.

“Yes, please!” the boy said, a flush of pleasure rising to his pale face. He started to rise, more slowly than the other two.

“Here,” Javan offered. “I’ll take your plate to the kitchen so you don’t have to walk so far.”

“I can walk,” Lys replied quietly, looking Javan directly in the eye. He nodded as he reached for his plate. “I can walk.”

The three boys quickly disposed of their plates and hurried back through the hall towards the door. Before going outside, Javan stopped and looked back. Lord Eodwine was only now taking a seat at the table after washing off the dust of the road. Javan paused a moment, knowing that shortly he would be meeting the man and Eodwine would be decided what would become of him. He drew a deep breath and ducked outside.

As it turned out, Eodwine had taken care of his own horse, and Lèof had nothing to do. The three boys remained in the stables, however, and while Lèof busied himself with cleaning and oiling a few bridles in desperate need of cleaning, the three of them talked. Javan grew more and more curious of Lys as they discussed different topics. Lys listened a great deal, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet – almost un-boy like. He acted older than he looked, and yet, somehow, he also seemed. . .younger. Javan couldn’t figure it out. Neither could he ask questions, for not only did Lys seem the type that would be embarrassed to be questioned about himself, but Lèof seemed careful about keeping the conversation away from anything that would lead to questions about Lys.

They had been sitting for some time thus, and Javan was in the midst of some story when they heard the door open and a horse led in. Lèof got up and put his work aside and walked forward. Javan and Lys looked up, too, and they both recognized Thornden as he came into the light of the first lantern. He exchanged a few words with Lèof and handed him the horse’s reins.

“Thanks, Lèof,” he said, smiling and thumping him lightly on the shoulder as he passed. He walked to the two waiting boys. “Good evening, Lys. Hullo, Javan. Will you run along and help Lèof there with the horse? When he’s all put away nicely, we’ll go in and I’ll see if Eodwine is available and I’ll introduce you.”

“He’s eating now,” Javan said. “Well, maybe not, he’s probably done by now,” he realized as he walked forward to do as Thornden asked.

Thornden turned to Lys as Javan disappeared into the stall that Lèof had led the horse into. “I’m glad to see you up, Lys,” he said. “I’m sorry I was gone the whole day, though, this being your first day on your feet.”

“It was alright,” Lys said, shrugging and looking down briefly. He brought his eyes back up to meet Thornden's. “Javan and Lèof both kept me company and we enjoyed ourselves.”

“Good.” Thornden paused a moment. He bit his lip slightly and his eyes wandered to the door of the stall from which they could hear Lèof and Javan talking as they rubbed down the horse. He looked back at Lys who stood waiting for him to speak again. “I am going to be introducing my brother to lord Eodwine tonight, as you probably know. I thought also that tonight I could speak to Eodwine of you coming under my care, as we have discussed before. I wanted to ask you if you still wanted that.”

Celuien

10-24-2006, 05:03 PM

"In truth, lord, I know not. If they are to be known as one, they may be brought to the company as a new worker to help with the building here. That much will do, but it will be hard to say why a man bears his pack even at his meal. If as two, that is harder still, for they may bring to mind old tales." Garstan thought for a moment of reminding the Eorl of children's stories of two-headed monsters that he once told to his own children but stopped, noting a suddenly growing look of fear in the twins' faces, and his first startled mistrust was replaced by pity.

"Nay, do not fear," he said. "You are safe here. But I cannot think of any easy way to make your introductions to the rest of the household."

"Quite a puzzle we have for ourselves!" Falco exclaimed.

Taralphiel

10-26-2006, 06:49 PM

Lys' face lifted, and he did not try to keep his joy back. He rushed forward as quickly as his body let him and hugged the taller man.

"Of course! Of course, Thornden! I...I would very much like to have a family..."

Lys stepped back, hands wringing the edges of his tunic. Again, the thought of his stay at the Mead Hall and earning his keep began to worry him. He was left with a limp that, whilst still improving, would probably haunt him the rest of his life. Lys already felt the options of occupation left to him were narrowing. As it was, he was not a very strong boy for his age. He looked up at Thornden with sudden sadness.

"I am worried that he...I mean...Lord Eodwine...will not have me here. I do not have much skill at all, and I am slow. What can I do to earn my way here, Thornden? Being a burden on everyone, it is not what I want. I loathe it..."

Folwren

10-27-2006, 11:01 AM

Thornden smiled and nearly laughed and Lys’ threw his thin arms around him in a hug. The boy’s answer put Thornden at rest. He had half feared that Lys would think, now that Javan was here, that Thornden would no longer want him. But Lys clearly had not thought that, and Thornden was happy.

But then Lys’ face clouded and the joy dimmed and faded from his eyes. “I am worried that he...I mean...Lord Eodwine...will not have me here. I do not have much skill at all, and I am slow. What can I do to earn my way here, Thornden? Being a burden on everyone, it is not what I want. I loathe it.”

“Well, to begin with, I’d advise you to stop thinking that Eodwine won’t allow you stay here. He’s not likely to decide that you need to leave all of a sudden. He’s been keeping you here so far with you not being able to do anything, hasn’t he? You mustn’t worry about being weak still, Lys. You’ll get stronger. I’m sure of it!” Lys still didn’t look convinced. His glance fell away from Thornden.

“What if I never walk right again?” he asked in such a low voice that Thornden could hardly catch the question. “I think this limp will never go away.”

“There is more to be done here than taking care of horses, being a soldier, or running errands," Thornden assured him. "We’ll find something suitable for you to do, so that you’re not a burden to everyone.” The stall door opened and Léof and Javan came out. Thornden laid his hand on Lys’ shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” he said quietly. “I’ll speak with Eodwine tonight. You’ll be able to stay, I’m sure, and we will find something that you can do.”

“A’right, Thorn, the horse is put away,” Javan said, coming to a stop before his brother and Lys. “Can we go in and meet lord Eodwine now?”

“Yes,” Thornden said nodding. “Goodnight, Léof. Thank you. Lys, you probably should...” he paused a moment as he turned back to him. “Well, never mind. You can stay out here, if you want.” Lys nodded and Thornden and Javan went out. They crossed the courtyard and entered the main hall.

Lamps were lit and placed upon the walls and most of the inhabitants of the hall still sat around the dinner table. They did less eating now than talking, though. A quick glance at the gathered company told Thornden that Eodwine was not among them. He smiled and nodded to a few people who looked up at him, but he did not stop or speak to any until he came to Saeryn. She was not aware of him as she sat laughing and talking with the person opposite her. Thornden tapped her shoulder and she turned around at once.

“Where is Eodwine?” he asked.

“Why, I’m not so sure!” Saeryn replied. “Several minutes ago, Falco came and dragged him away from his meal and he hasn’t come back.”

“Is he busy then?”

“Oh, I can’t imagine Falco giving him too much business, no. I think I would have heard of it earlier today. Try upstairs, in his room.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and turned back to the table and Thornden took her advise and went upstairs, Javan trailing him. They went up the stairs and to the door of Eodwine’s chamber, but no voices came from within and no one answered Thornden’s knock.

“I think I hear voices down the hall a bit,” Javan said, tilting his head in that direction. The two brothers walked down two more doors and stopped again. Thornden lifted his hand and knocked thrice.

littlemanpoet

10-27-2006, 08:35 PM

"Quite a puzzle we have for ourselves!" Falco exclaimed.

Eodwine was about to asnwer with a rejoinder about not shouting about it when someone knocked on the door three times.

"I'll answer it," Eodwine said, and went to the door, blocking the view of the room from the corridor. It was Thornden. "Thornden! What news?"

Folwren

10-28-2006, 05:31 PM

The door opened almost at once to Thornden’s knock. Eodwine stood there in the opening. He looked up in surprise. “Thornden! What news?”

“A great deal of news, actually, my lord. May I speak with you, or are you busy?”

“One second, and I am at your service.” Eodwine stepped back within the door and spoke to the people within the room. A moment later, he emerged entirely, shutting the door firmly behind himself. “Come, let us go to my room and we will speak there, rather than standing here in the hall.” He led the way to his room and allowed Thornden and Javan to enter before him before he went, shutting the door once more behind himself.

“Lord Eodwine, I would like to introduce my brother to you,” Thornden said, opening business at once. He turned half way around towards Javan and Javan stepped forward and bowed. “This is Javan, my youngest brother. He is almost thirteen summers. Today, he and my sister came to Edoras and Medreth informed me that our father wishes that if there is a place, he could take a place in your court.”

Javan stood before Eodwine, silent and rigid. Thornden quit speaking, and the boy wondered if he was supposed to say or do anything. He didn’t know what he would say or do if he was expected to, so he stood in silence, instead, and waited.

littlemanpoet

10-28-2006, 08:34 PM

The boy was a miniature Thornden, standing there as if for warrior drills. Some day this lad will make as good a man of arms as his elder brother, Eodwine said to himself.

There was need for more able-bodied workers around the Mead Hall, and with the addition of Sorn's holdings to his own, Eodwine was in even greater need of such folk. He would break that news later, as well as who would be expected to move at what time, and who would stay.

"A fine lad you look to be," Eodwine said at length, "and welcome here. We have need of lads who are not afraid to work and learn. Are you willing to do both, Javan?"

"Yes, lord!" said the boy eagerly.

Eodwine smiled. The boy's eyes were open wide and he very clearly wanted to impress both lord and older brother.

"Very well," he said presently. "I would have you sit at the feet of Marenil so that he can find out what you know, and I will speak with your older brother to find out what you can do. But I have two questions for you, Javan lad." He paused as the boy's attention became even more intent. "My questions are these: first, what would you most like to do here; and second, what would you most like to learn to do?"

Folwren

10-29-2006, 05:55 PM

"Very well," Eodwine said. "I would have you sit at the feet of Marenil so that he can find out what you know, and I will speak with your older brother to find out what you can do.” Javan wondered briefly who Marenil was and why he would sit at any man’s feet, but Eodwine’s next sentence brought his attention back entirely on him. “But I have two questions for you, Javan lad.” A short pause, and Javan waited expectantly. “My questions are these: first, what would you most like to do here; and second, what would you most like to learn to do?"

Not simple questions to answer. What was available for him to do here? How long would he be here? What could he learn? He had many interests and many things he was capable of doing. He did not know if it would be polite to ask questions, though, in his turn. So instead he stood without answering for some minutes while he thought.

He loved horses, but Eodwine already had an ostler. Did he need any more guards, or men-at-arms? Even if he did, Javan decided an instant later, he was yet too small and too young for that. Javan really had no idea of what to say. What needed to be done in such a setting? He was used to the country, to a farm, helping his older siblings take care of animals and crops, or learning his lessons inside with his mother in the morning and taking long, pleasurable rides in the afternoon.

Perhaps the second question would be easier to answer. Yes, it was, definitely easier to answer, and Eodwine was waiting.

“To the second question, I’ve an answer,” Javan said at last. “There are two things I’d like to learn. How to become a soldier like my brother and how to work with horses so I’m good at it. But I can do anything, sir,” he added quickly, “really I can. Whatever you need, I’d – I’d be fine with doing.” The two thoughts of becoming soldier and working with horses had occupied his mind so often, he thought it could never come to pass, and he did not want to appear as though he only came for pleasure seeking purposes. He would do whatever lord Eodwine set him to, he told himself. No matter what it was.

“I see,” Eodwine said in answer. “Thank you, lad. I will consider what you have said and in the morning, I will have decided what you will do. Now, I believe you have had a long day, have you not?”

“Yes, lord.”

“You may go then. Have you met the lady Saeryn?” Javan nodded. She had been one of the first to meet Medreth and him when they arrived at the hall. “Run down and ask her to arrange someplace for you to stay, if she hasn’t already figured that out.”

“I think we have, Eodwine,” Thornden said. “Another bed has been set up in my room. I would not expect another room to be prepared.”

“Very good. You may go, Javan.” The boy bowed again and went to the door. He paused there, glancing back, before going out into the hall and shutting the door after him. “Now, Thornden, there is more you wish to tell me?”

“Yes. There are two more matters that I have to discuss, one not so pleasant as the other. But I will ask concerning the happier matter first.” He paused a moment, considering how to put his request into words. “You remember, over a month ago, I brought in a lad…Lys, he named himself to us.” Eodwine nodded. Of course he remembered him. “Until today he has been confined to his room, unable to walk due to his injuries. This morning, however, he came out. He is nearly completely healed and his strength will return to him, I’m sure.” Eodwine nodded again. “He has not regained his memory, lord,” Thornden said, his eyes dropping away from Eodwine’s. “He knows nothing of his past, what happened to him, who he is, or who he belongs to.” Now he looked back up. “Eodwine, if I may, I would like to take charge of him. He is as good as an orphan and needs someone too look after him, teach him what he can not remember, help him as he regains his strength, and get him back on his feet. What do you say?”

littlemanpoet

10-30-2006, 08:02 PM

Eodwine was giving thought, and had his answer formed before Thornden had finished asking the question. His almbudsman had a good heart. He knew this already, and this new thought and question put the stamp on it. It would be a different sort of task than Thornden had yet taken on, having been a warrior and horseman for the last few years, weilding sword and bow and wit for war more than aught else. Eodwine wondered of the last two or so months in a more homely place as was the mead hall, had brought this about? More like, it was always in the young man, and the chance had now availed itself.

"I say yes, and with a good will! I think it a good thing to do, and I think well of you for it. Now tell me, what of this not so pleasant matter?"

Folwren

10-31-2006, 01:22 PM

The smile and flush of pleasure that had risen to Thornden’s face when Eodwine made his answer quickly faded again as Eodwine asked to be told of the final matter. Thornden paused a long moment in answering. He felt reluctant to even begin - he hated the idea of being an informer. Yet it had to be done.

“It is concerning Trystan, my lord,” Thornden said. “I am aware that you do not think the most highly of him. Before I being, I must beg you to not make any hasty judgement against him and do not be angry.”

Thornden then commenced telling Eodwine of what had happened that morning at the ruins. Of arriving, seeing the strange man, Falco following him, bringing Falco back, and Trystan having joined Garmund in their absense. Then he told him about Falco sending Trystan and Thornden off together in search of the stranger.

“I did not want to follow him, Eodwine. I had no wish to meet him again, and I didn’t think he wanted us hunting him down. After a little while, I told Trsytan so. It was then that I first noticed that he seemed afraid. I don’t know what about. I can not guess what he was thinking. But he was afraid. And then, he nearly told me something, but stopped, and then admitted that we shouldn’t be following the man and that he had no reason, and he was going to leave it at that, but I pressed him to speak.

“Perhaps it was wrong of me, but I can not tell. He became angry when I suggested that he might have something he should tell me, or you. Before I was aware of what I had said wrong, he drew a knife on me. This one.” He produced the small knife, the blade of which was only a couple inches long. He extended it, with the hilt towards Eodwine, as he continued. “He said that we suspected him upon no grounds. He seemed to think that we had heard of some crime that took place and immediately thought of him. I never accused him of a thing, but he told me - Eodwine, he was furious, but I think it was from fear, he yelled at me - that he hadn’t done anything wrong. A moment later, he dropped the knife and stepped back away from it, and then he said to me - ‘you’ve heard, have you?’ That startled me nearly as much as being threatened with the knife. He would say nothing after that. I asked him if he did anything wrong, he said he hadn’t, but he made no defense of himself.

“I do not know what to make of it. I am sorry to have to tell it to you. Something is bothering him, Eodwine, and he’s afraid to speak.”

littlemanpoet

10-31-2006, 09:17 PM

Eodwine considered, and spoke.

"'Oft-times guilt speaks though the guilty mean not to.' Or so the saying goes. Maybe it is not so with Trystan. I have not come to know him well; he keeps his distance from me. And that, as well as all you say, Thornden, makes me give pause. I will think on what you have told me, and take no action until I have thought much more, and taken more counsel with you and others I trust."

He set the knife on his desk.

"I do know of the man from the ruins of whom you speak. Come with me, and we will talk to him now. What was his name?"

"Rilef, he called himself, lord."

"Ah. Rilef. Right and left." Eodwine grinned as from a private joke. "Come with me." Eodwine led Thornden down the corridor and to the door from which he had come minutes before. "Wait here while I go in a moment."

Eodwine passed through the door and shut it behind him. Lefun, Ritun, Falco, Garstan, and Garmund had been talking among themselves and had become silent the moment the door had opened. Relief was on their faces when it turned out to be Eodwine.

"My friends, with the four of us to stand beside Ritun and Lefun, I think it safe to introduce him to the others. Thornden stands outside the door. Unless there is anyone in this room who would object, I will have him come in and see Rilef as he, or they, really are. Well?"

Celuien

11-05-2006, 02:23 PM

"Well?"

The twins again looked uneasy, though Garmund thought they seemed less so than at first.

For a few moments, no one spoke. Then Garstan answered.

"I think that would be best. If they are to stay here, they must be known as they are. They cannot always be hiding behind doors."

littlemanpoet

11-05-2006, 05:43 PM

Eodwine nodded to Garstan and turned to Ritun and Lefun. "Well, sirs? You cannot stay hid up in a room all your lives long, and we four, plus Thornden, will stand by you. What say you? Shall we make you known as you are to the rest of the household?"

Ritun and Lefun frowned. Eodwine could see the fear in their faces. They looked at each other and said nothing for long moments.

Garmund walked up tentatively and put his little hand in the twins' big right hand. "I - I will stand by you and I'll beat up anyone who says something mean."

"Garmund!" Garstan scolded.

But Ritun and Lefun grinned. "Nay," said Lefun, "beat none for us, Garmund friend." He looked up at Eodwine. "Show us them." Ritun nodded his agreement.

"Very well. First, Thornden." Eodwine opened the door wide and said, "Thornden, meet the twins, Ritun and Lefun. There is no such man as Rilef, except at grave need."

Folwren

11-06-2006, 01:15 PM

Thornden stood without understanding Eodwine for a moment, but then the eorl stepped aside and allowed Thornden to enter the room. He had hardly passed the door post when he stopped abruptly to stare. Eodwine’s words made sense instantly. ‘There is no such man as Rilef, except at grave need. . .’ There sat the twins, looking back at him quietly, two separate men who were not really separate.

Thornden didn’t know what to think, how to react, or what to say. His eyes left Lefun and Ritun and he glanced at Garstan, Garmund, and lastly at Falco. Their earlier disagreement over the stranger came back to him. He wondered if Falco had known there were two of them. Possibly. It was impossible to tell. He turned and looked then at Eodwine. He had accepted the twins, apparently, and now stood waiting for Thornden to either do the same or make some objection. Thornden decided to make no objection. The responsibility was not his to accept or refuse any man that Eodwine thought fit to be part of the inhabitants of the mead hall.

“Lefun, Ritun,” he said, turning and looking again at the twins. “Thornden, at your service.” He bowed slightly and when he lifted his head again, a small smile formed on his face. “When we met earlier, I had no idea there were two of you. Your disguise worked quite well to fool me.”

littlemanpoet

11-06-2006, 09:24 PM

The twins visibly relaxed when Thornden showed friendship to them. Soon, Eodwine, followed by Rilef (for they had decided that it would be wise for the twins to assume their disguise at first) and the others, filed out of the room and down the corridor, and into the mead hall proper.

"Friends! My household!" cried Eodwine, gathering to him the attention of all those in the room. "We have a new guest. Greet him!"

All in the room hailed the new guest. Lefun nodded mutely.

"But all is not as it seems," Eodwine said loudly. This got the renewed attention of those at the board, for many had been turning back to the serious business of supper. "For we have not one guest but two! Ritun?"

Before their eyes, Ritun unclasped his hidden hands from around Lefun's neck, and pulled the rough tunic off of his head, and so were revealed the twins. Those in the room gawked.

"Ritun and Lefun are my new friends as of today. Garstan, Garmund, Falco, Thornden and I have each met them and made friends with them. They have been living in the ruins not far from Edoras, for fear of harm that might come to them by those who fear twins who have the same pair of legs. I hope," and at this point the lightness left Eodwine's voice, and he became forceful in his tone, "that all here will be no harm but friends to Lefun and Ritun. Have I your word? Say "aye" if I do!"

All those in the hall gave their word, though Eodwine noticed it was with varying degrees of intention. He would watch carefully that the twins were respected. He brought them to the table where his food and drink had been sitting neglected, and called for food and drink to be brought for the twins.

Thinlómien

11-07-2006, 05:17 AM

A man with two pairs of torsos... What kind of monster is that? Modtryth shrugged and pulled Cnebba closer to herself. "Mum, let me go", Cnebba protested and slipped from her arms. He looked at her tentatively. Then he grinned. "Mum, dad, did you see? Those twins are in the same body. Woah..." Modtryth did not make a reply, but pushed the boy to Stigend. "I'm going to help the cooks to serve the meal", she informed her husband. The cooks weren't in need of help, but she definitely needed time and a place to think about this.

She slipped into the kitchen. Frodides greeted her with a question: "Ah, Modtryth, did you see the man? Or the men, should I say?" Modtryth nodded. "Is there any thing can do to help you?" she asked before Frodides could continue on Lefun and Ritun. Frodides took a look at her. "I see you're in no mood for gossiping." The cook looked around. "Go and fetch one of the small ale barrels from the cellar then, I think we're going to need some more ale." "I will", Modtryth replied and hurried out of the kitchen.

In the dark cellar it was easier for her to arrange her thoughts. Mostly her feelings were contradictory. Two heads, two upper bodies, two pairs of arms but only one pair of legs... that's a monster. Yet Lord Eodwine says they're two men. Two men in the same body? Does not sound very natural either. Must keep Cnebba well away from him... them. She sighed. That would be impossible. Yet... what if they're just ordinary people who just happen to share the same body the same way some people are blind from their birth or some are tall and some are short. Or some have fair hair and blue eyes and some dark hair and brown eyes.

I, of all people, shouldn't scorn the twins, Modtryth thought, for how can I ask for people taking me as I am though I look like a Dunleding if I can't take everyone as they are?

Modtryth chose one of the barrels and lifted it. Walking back to the kitchen, she tried to tell herself that if it didn't make a person any less human if she had a dunlending-like outlook, it didn't make a person any less human if he had a twin brother stuck in the some body either.

Nogrod

11-07-2006, 02:38 PM

"Daddy? You see that one... I mean... those two?" Cnebba asked his father ecxitedly after Modtryth had left. For a second Stigend was not able to answer for he himself looked at the twins with disbelief. Cnebba was clearly more than ready to go to have a closer look and Stigend had to take a firm grip from his son's shoulders.

"Okay, we all see them" he finally managed to answer. "We'll go to eat in our table. You see, they are taken to the lord's table and we should not trouble them now." Gently but firmly he guided Cnebba back to their regular places where Garstan, Garmund and Leothern were already about to set themselves.

When they reached the table Stigend looked at Garstan quizzically as if asking whether he knew about this thing. Garstan couldn't fully maintain his calm and he nodded to Stigend inconspicuously so that the children didn't notice it. They all settled down.

"You saw those? Boy, that's weird! You think they're nice?" Cnebba asked the other children with fervour. Garmund tried to avoid Cnebba's questioning eyes but Leothern seemed grim enough. Even Stigend noticed her mood.

"He knew it all the time, when they came back from that trip of theirs..." Leothern managed to utter at last, looking at his brother with an expression that could not be misinterpreted: he had betrayd her and badly.

It took a moment for Cnebba to come to full realisation of this. Yes, Lord Eodwine had mentioned Garmund's name among the ones who had already made friends with the twins. He felt a growing anger inside him even though they had been good friends again the last couple of days after the incident. He has lied to us! He hasn't told us!

Cnebba acted as fast as any 8-year old could. He winked to Leothern, and as if by a common consent they both made a run for it. Garstan and Stigend tried to catch them but they were too late. The men stood up and tried to see where the two children were heading just to realise that Garmund had also left the table.

They looked at each other not knowing what to do, sharing the sentiment of powerlesness in the situation. Suddenly Garstan nodded towards the Lord Eodwine's table. Stigend turned his head and saw it too.

Cnebba and Leothern had reached the lord's table and had come to stand behind Lefun and Ritun. Cnebba patted Lefun on the shoulder and Leother on Ritun. As the twins turned around to find out what was it, both of the children took a few steps backward instinctively, just to make sure.

"Sorry", Cnebba managed to mumble for the four eyes that were looking at them intently. "We just wished to say hi. I'm Cnebba and..."

"And I'm Leothern, the sister of Garmund" Leothern put in before Cnebba had time to make the introduction.

"We were just wondering..." Cnebba continued, drawing breath and trying to form his question. Leothern was the quicker. " Which one of you moves your legs?" Cnebba glanced at Leothern and continued with his own question: "Would you play with us tomorrow, hide'n'seek, orcs and knights, ball-games?"

Garmund had reached the table and stood beside the two inquisitors.

littlemanpoet

11-08-2006, 05:01 AM

Eodwine looked across the table at Garreth and Harreld. The twins sat to Eodwine's right. While Harreld's eyes strayed to the twins like torchlight cutting through the fog now and then, Garreth plainly stared. Eodwine looked at the twins, who kept their eyes on their plates.

Ritun was always situated to the right and behind Lefun, so Ritun had to reach around his twin to get at his food and drink. It had to be inconvenient to say the least, but Ritun seemed to think nothing of it; after all, he knew nothing else, Eodwine supposed.

"Hmph!"

Eodwine looked. That had come from Garreth.

"Must be a curse."

"Garreth!" Harreld said sharply, but eyed the twins nonetheless as if he agreed.

"Leave off, you," Garreth said to his own twin, then got up of a sudden before his ale was done. "I'm finished for the night. Good even to you all." He left the table and stalked out of the hall. Harreld eyed the others around the table, then pulled Garreth's plate and ale cup over next to his own.

"I hope you don't believe that about a curse!" Eodwine said.

Harreld just glanced up quickly and kept his eyes on both plates and ale cups as he worked at his double helping.

Eodwine heard the stomping of little feet running behind him and stoppin behind the twins.

It was Cnebba and Leoðern. They introduced themselves in their childish way, and came out with the most innocent questions that any adult would have been too embarrassed to ask: "We were just wondering. Which one of you moves your legs?" "Would you play with us tomorrow, hide'n'seek, orcs and knights, ball-games?"

Both of the twins turned, grinning. As usual, it was Lefun who spoke. "First one gets it done. Our rhyme it is. But games? First work, then play if Pa says."

"We must decide what work you are to do," Eodwine said. Then he noticed Garmund come up. The boy looked protective of the twins, and not exactly friendly toward Cnebba and his own sister. He wondered what was up.

Celuien

11-10-2006, 08:45 AM

Cnebba was at it again. Garmund had seen that sly wink directed at his sister before they ran over to meet Lefun and Ritun. What did he mean by trying to play the hero for Lèoðern? Egging her on with her silly idea that Garmund meant to leave her out from knowing the twins? Her look had implied that she thought as much. Garmund would have brought them to meet the twins. He wanted them to be friends with everyone at the hall. But this one time, just this one time, he wanted to run the introduction. He wanted to a better friend to his sister than Cnebba. The way things were before.

Garmund was sure now that Cnebba was trying to make him look bad in front of his sister and in front of everyone else at the hall. That was no way for a friend to behave. And so he quietly followed them to the other table, feeling all the wrath of a thwarted 9-year-old.

"You ought to have waited, Cnebba," Garmund said through clenched teeth. "I'd have brought you over to say hello."

Lèoðern scrunched up her nose. "No you wouldn't. You're always too busy. And you didn't tell me before, like you should have."

"Yes I would. But I had to make sure my friends were alright first.

I stick with my friends and make sure they don't get hurt. Not like some people here." Garmund stared straight at Cnebba, defying him to answer the challenge.

Nogrod

11-14-2006, 03:38 PM

"You say you would have, but you didn't." Cnebba answered Garmund firmly, returning the defiant look Garmund had thrown at him. He had no intent to pull aside or let Garmund bully him although he was very aware that he would not have great chances against the older boy if it would get physical. He was quick and agile, but that was mainly good for running away from the bigger boys or ducking hits or thrown objects.

"We" Cnebba started, throwing a quick look at Lèoðern, "came here to make new friends, not to quarrel with them, like some people here". Cnebba tried to imitate Garmund's tone of voice with the last part of his sentence. Then he turned his back to Garmund and readressed Lefun and Ritun.

"So, would you play with us tomorrow?"

------

Garstan and Stigend saw immediately that things were not right even though they didn't hear any of the words that were said at lord Eodwine's table. The body language and the expressions told them enough. With a fast nod to each other they left their meals and took after the kids.

littlemanpoet

11-20-2006, 02:57 PM

Before Garstan and Stigend were halfway to their kids, Master Falco Boffin, former shirriff in the Shire, life saver of Eodwine of the Gap, and general ladies' hobbit in parts far to the north of Edoras, was standing beside Garmund, and looked evenly at Cnebba (they were about the same height).

"Young man, it was I as told Garmund to keep his secret. Now off with you and the little girl back to your supper and let these two men have some peace!"

Nogrod

11-21-2006, 12:56 PM

Cnebba looked at Lèoðern but turned his head away from her almost immediately, lowering his head. He didn't want anyone to see him now as he tried to hold back the tears that were already moistening the corners of his eyes. His blood was boiling with anger and at the same time he felt so deeply hurt inside that it almost made his stomach turn around. All the world was against him, again. And his mother had just disappeared and his father seemed to be on the side of the world against him... well, probably not as such, but not defending him either. And then this old hobbit. What was he in this? Why was he defending Garmund who had come in and insult him in the first place? Cnebba couldn't understand.

And soon he felt he just couldn't hold the frustration and anguish inside him. He raised his eyes to look at Falco, tears flowing now openly, and shouted with all the will-power of a broken 8-year old who is hardly being able to control his voice.

"This is unfair! You're so unfair!"

With that he ducked pass Falco and Garmund and towards the door. Stigend saw these last moments near enough to send a concerned look at the hobbit before calling at the people sitting in the direction Cnebba was heading. "Catch him!" he shouted, only to see a small figure slip through the tables and to hear the door slam. Darn child... and what next? Stigend tried to relax but that was hard. He felt a strong urge to go after his son. He knew Cnebba well enough. He could do anything in that kind of state of mind, and get himself into trouble. If just Modtryth was here, one of us could stay here to try to solve this and the other could try and find Cnebba before he messes things up more...

Stigend looked both unsecurely and questioningly towards Garstan who frowned to show he probably knew no more of this than he himself did. Slowly Stigend turned towards Lord Eodwine and nodded to him apologetically, laying a quick glance at Lefun and Ritun.

"I do apologise on behalf of my son, my Lord. Whatever it was that happened here." He bowed slowly and took a step back, deeply in his thoughts that went after his son.

Celuien

11-22-2006, 10:53 AM

"Look what you've done now, Garmund." Lèoðern protested. "You've made Cnebba run away. Cruel, cruel Garmund." She tilted her head back to look at him and scolded. "You ought to say you're sorry."

"Sorry?" Garmund snapped back. "He's the one who should be sorry."

Garstan had had enough. His face reddened with embarrassment for the children's quarreling in front of the Eorl. "Garmund. Lèoðern. Stop. We will speak of this later. But you should both apologize to Lord Eodwine for your behavior. You should know better than to make a scene at supper."

"I'm sorry," Lèoðern said quickly, hanging her head. Garmund reddened and muttered an apology.

"Now go to our room." Garmund and Lèoðern walked away slowly, frowning at each other all the way.

"I apologize for my children's behavior, Lord." He bowed and turned to Stigend. "It would seem that our problem is worse than we thought."

Thinlómien

11-23-2006, 08:18 AM

"Where do you wish me to put this barrell?" Modtryth asked Frodides. "Put it over there on the floor", the cook replied, organising the spices. "Is there anything else I could do?" Modtryth asked. "There's nothing you can do in the kitchen", Frodides replied and laid the pot containing rosemary on the table. She turned and looked Modtryth straight in the eye. "You could, however, go after your son. It seems he got rather angry at something, I saw him run out of the hall just a moment ago."

For a while Modtryth just stared at Frodides and then took a few steps and glanced quickly to the hall. Stigend was still in his place, looking from Garstan to Lord Eodwine. Garmund and Lèoðern were on their way out from the great hall.

"I didn't hear or see it all, but to me it seemed like the boys had some sort of quarrel", Frodides said. Modtryth nodded. "Thank you, Frodides, for informing me", she said speeding out of the kitchen to the yard.

Now where has that boy gone? she wondered.

----------

Cnebba ran. He didn't have any certain place in his mind when he ran from the hall. He just wanted to go away. The tears were blurring his vision, but the anger was giving him speed. He wanted to be alone for a while so that no one could see his tears.

When he had ran enough he sat down and wiped his tears to his sleeve. "I won't cry. I don't cry. Only girls and babies cry", he told to the little sprout facing him. "I'm not a girl or a baby", he assured the young tree, "I'm not." The tree didn't answer. Cnebba kicked it. "Stupid tree", he muttered. Even trees seemed not to agree with him. Even trees were against him. He felt the hot tears rising again, but he defied them. "I'm not a baby", he whispered.

But it was all still so unfair. Everyone was unfair. They were all against him. Garmund had insulted him. Lèoðern had backed away, not protesting to her brother. That hobbit, Falco, had requested Garmund to conspire against him. Lord Eodwine hadn't done anything to prevent this. Cnebba's dad hadn't said anything, maybe he was surely conspiring with Garmund and Falco. His mother hadn't done anything either. Even the twins themselves surely had been plotting against him somehow, he knew.

------

Modtryth found Cnebba sitting on a small rock, hugging his knees. She walked to him in silence and sat down beside him. He glanced at her (his face was wet and eyes red) but then he turned his gaze away and looked at the maltreated little tree. "Go away", he said. She didn't. She just sat there.

"Go away mum", Cnebba repeated. She made no reply. This time the boy looked at her. "Mum, I asked you to go away, didn't you hear me?" he said, this time rather faintly. "I did hear you, Cnebba, but I won't go away." She looked at her son. He seemed to be in the brink of tears. "I don't cry", Cnebba told her. When she made no reply again, he added, "only girls and babies cry."

Modtryth looked at him. Her face was serious. "Not only babies and girls cry, Cnebba. Boys cry too" she said, looking at Cnebba and making a little pause. He turned away. "Grown-up men and women cry too. I cry sometimes", she told her son. Cnebba looked at her. "Even your dad cries sometimes too. There's nothing to be ashamed of in crying, dear", she told him and gave him a warm smile.

------

That smile was just too much for Cnebba. He burst in tears again. He felt his mother put her arms around him gently and stroking his hair. "It's alright, dear", he heard her familiar voice say, "it's alright".

After a while he became aware that he was in his mother's arms like a little baby. He squirmed away from Modtryth and she let him go.

"What happened?", his mother asked. This time, unlike all the times he had broken something, there was no trace of inquisition in her eyes, only concern. He hesitated, and then replied: "I and Lèoðern went to say hello to the twins and asked them to play with us tomorrow. Then Garmund came and said we should have waited for him to introduce the twins. As if they were his private property, only because he was taken to the adventure, not I and Lèoðern." He crushed an ant with his shoe, but as his mother still loked at her with a question in her eyes, he continued, struggling to keep his tone even: "Then he insulted me and said that I'm a bad friend and then Falco came and rebuked me. He said that he had ordered Garmund to hide the twins form us and that I was making a fuss over stupid things and I should go back to sit."

-------

Modtryth thought about the mess for a moment. I can't form a proper picture of this before hearing other versions of what happened, she decided. She took Cnebba's hand, but he didn't want to hold her hand. "Will you come with me, Cnebba? We must speak with your dad. And with others too. I'm sure there are apologies that should be offered." Cnebba looked at her defiantly. She stood up. "If you wish Falco or Garmund to apologise to you, you must come with me. No one's coming here to apologise you anything, dear."

Cnebba looked at her. "Do we have to go just now?" She looked at him, pondering. "Please mum, not yet, but soon", he asked. "Very well then, dear, but we shouldn't be away for long." She sat down again. "Will you play a match of stone-éored with me, mum?" Cnebba asked after a while. "Definitely", Modtryth said and smiled, "but just one match, then we really should be going, otherwise your dad will get too worried."

littlemanpoet

11-23-2006, 08:32 PM

"I am sorry for my children's fighting, Lord." He bowed and turned to Stigend. "It would seem that our problem is worse than we thought."

"You are forgiven, of course," Eodwine said, smiling. "Children will fight." He turned to Falco with narrowed eyes. "And Hobbits will nose into other folks' business." Then he turned to Lefun and Ritun. "What would you in the matter of the young ones?"

Ritun spoke for both of them, as usual. "Earn my keep first." Lefun nodded. "We'd five make it in games. Why less? But weary we be this day."

Eodwine smiled. "There you have it, Garstan, until I can hit upon a good way for the Lefun and Ritun to earn their keep here, the children may take as much of the twins' time as these two can stand. Do I have the right of it, Lefun? Ritun?"

They nodded.

"Good! Now where is that minstrel of ours, the mighty Manawydd? Let's have some harping!"

The minstrel was found and he sat before the fire as the day waned. Ale kept coming around. The twins left the hall early in the evening. Harreld staggered out in search of his brother Garreth, but not until much time had passed, the sun just setting. Eodwine sat in his chair, silent, mulling. Those who looked his way so a furrowed and lowered brow and lips that twitched and bit and frowned, and an eye that cast about here and there, following Saeryn closely as she walked by from time to time.

Toward sunset Modtryth and Cnebba came to him, and he gave them his full attention. Once they had moved on, he resumed his mulling.

Falco once tried to make small talk with him but Eodwine dismissed him abruptly; Falco left him with raised brows, and pulled out his pipe and sat near Manawydd and the fire himself. None knew his thoughts, and Falco knew better than to try to badger them out of him until the Eorl was ready to speak his mind.

Eodwine was still mulling the words of the King about Sorn's old holdings, and the Queen about Saeryn. He knew what he needed to do and say, but did not relish the doing and saying. He remained in his seat long after Manawydd grew tired and lapsed into silence, and the hall emptied save those who changed their benches into beds. Eodwine was left undisturbed by all, and paid all the to-ings and fro-ings littlo heed.

Folwren

11-30-2006, 01:14 PM

Thornden had paid little attention to the siblings’ quarrel. He had grown up with too many bothers and sisters himself to mind a few sharp words. He ate his meal with a good will, having ridden all afternoon and eating nothing since mid-day. He said nothing to any of his neighbors as he ate. His mind worked busily, thinking of everything that had happened that day.

When the meal was over and the board had been cleared, he sat still with his hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea while most of the others got up and moved about in different groups around the room. After a few minutes, he drew a deep break and looked up, as though awakening from a dream. He glanced around, lifted the mug to his lips and drained the rest of the lukewarm liquid and set the mug back on the table as he got up.

He looked around the people still gathered in the hall. Eodwine sat by the fire, apparently lost in deep thought. Off to one side, sitting face to face by the wall, sat Garstan and Stigend, talking with their heads bent close together. Thornden went towards them. He stopped a couple feet away and waited for a pause to come into their conversation and for them to notice him.

Only a few seconds passed before Garstan slowly lifted his hand and then turned and looked at Thornden. Thornden stepped forward. “May I join you? I would like to hear what you accomplished today. I was gone most of the day.”

“Certainly, Thornden, and welcome,” Garstan answered. “Pull up a chair. Stigend and I were only discussing the new member of the hall.”

“The twins, you mean,” Thornden said, half turning to reach behind himself for a chair. He swung it around and straddled it as he sat, placing his arms on the back. “There are two of them, you know. They are an interesting set, to be sure,” he went on, his eyebrows contracting for a moment. But then his face cleared again. “I think all will be well, though. Eodwine is a good judge of character. Besides that, Falco and your son Garmund were the first ones to find them and I have a feeling that if they were dangerous, it would have shown before now.”

Celuien

11-30-2006, 06:42 PM

A faint smile curved on Garstan's face. "I met the twins afore they came to their meal and found them safe enough. That they should be as they are is wonderous, but I see no harm in them. And I place my trust in Lord Eodwine's judgment."

Garstan frowned as he came more to the point of his words with Stigend. "We were speaking more upon our children's fighting for their favor. We had known that not not all was as well as we had wished between Garmund and Cnebba." Stigend nodded his agreement. "And we had thought to put an end to the matter by setting their time for chores more alike. But there is more amiss than we had first thought."

"Cnebba ran off crying. That is not like him."

"Nor does Garmund show his anger as he did tonight or try to keep the reasons for his thoughts from his father." Garstan had spoken to his son in their room, but the boy had given little answer, instead sitting with his jaw set and face reddened even after Lèoðern had laughed and teased him to smile.

"I would not have the sons at war when their fathers are friends."

Folwren

12-01-2006, 10:19 PM

“I would not have the sons at war when their fathers are friends.”

Thornden looked from Garstan to Stigend and back again. This certainly was a problem He considered it mutely a moment and then he opened his mouth slowly. “I…” he paused and then continued. “I am not a father and I know really very little about how to truly fix it. I think whether or not the fathers are friends, the sons who once were friends should not be enemies.”

“I don’t know if we can be absolutely certain that they were ever enemies,” Garstan said.

“Oh,” Thornden said. He blinked and drew a great breath. “I see.” He paused again, and then he spoke abruptly, “Garmund is jealous.”

Garstan sat forward almost eagerly. “What do you mean?”

“This morning. . .before I left, I was coming across the yard and I met up with Garmund and he was looking a might sour. . .” Thornden told the two fathers what had passed between the him and Garmund that morning, how Garmund had said that Cnebba had taken his sister’s attention away from him and that they were always playing together – without him.

“He said that now it is as though Cnebba were her brother and he was not. He asked me why it couldn’t be like it used to.”

“What did you tell him?” Garstan asked, his voice quiet.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell him anything. That’s when Falco walked by. When he heard what the problem was, instead of answering Garmund, he suggested we go on an adventure, and we did. I can’t say now that it was such a bright idea,” Thornden admitted somewhat shamefacedly. “Falco said something to the affect that it would make Lèodern and Cnebba jealous of us three. I am sorry I did not tell you at once. I thought it was a passing mood or fancy of his and that today’s adventure would drive the trouble out of his mind. I’ve got several siblings of my own and we always were able to hammer out our disagreements. When father had to step in, as you did this evening apparently, we usually were able to figure it out even faster, with his help. But Garmund seems more upset than that.”

Nogrod

12-02-2006, 03:59 PM

"Maybe it wasn't so bright idea, looking at our children here, but..." Stigend opened his mouth at last. He had been listening and thinking both about their children and about the wonder-twins, as he called them in his head. He looked at Thornden and then to Garstan and continued: "But maybe it was better in the end."

Garstan looked surprised and turned to face his friend, questionmarks flying from his eyes.

"Well, I've been thinking about this almost all the evening now. I mean after I saw that one...erm... those two". Stigend made a pause as if he was trying to find the right words.

"What I mean is. We, me and my family, have had it the rough way most of the time, just trying to get along in this life because of Modtryth's blood. But how tough it must have been for those two? And what would have awaited them if people from this Hall would not have been the ones to find them?" Stigend shook his head slowly, staring now downwards and fiddling with the button of his skirt. He looked somewhat distracted.

Garstan landed his hand on his shoulder. "I can see what you mean, Stigend."

Stigend raised his head and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his skirt. "Sorry my friends. I tend to get a bit carried away with these things." He reached to the table and picked a jug of ale. "But the kitchen is getting ready, at least what comes to masonry. Now isn't it, master Garstan?" Stigend smiled and raised the pint after which he took a good draught from it.

"And I'll be needing a few steady hands on my site in day or two. The logs are soon hewn and we must start bringing the thing together. My friend Garstan has already given his word to accompany me with it. How about you master Thornden? Any interest in that kind of work?"

littlemanpoet

12-02-2006, 05:40 PM

Eodwine overheard the conversation his almbudsman, stoneshaper, and carpenter were having, and was pleased by the turn it was taking. He smiled to himself, got up from his chair, and went into the kitchen. They noticed, but he waved and went on his way. He noticed Saeryn come into the hall from the opposite door just as he was leaving. He would have liked to talk to her by the fire, but he was already in the kitchen by the time he thought of that, and let it go.

It had been a full and strange day between revelations at Meduseld and the goings on at these ruins to the east of Edoras. Who knew? Ah well, Eodwine thought, life is certainly not dull.

He sat down in the kitchen, Kara his only company, and began a late night snack of toasted and salted black bread and a particularly dark brown ale. Kara was doing some final ordering, puttering about the place; it seemed as much hers as Frodides' now.

Having spoken with Eodwine, Kara now knew that her time off was secured, and as she put the cleaned and dried plates away and got out what would be needed in the morning - for Frodides had taught her that it was easiest to be prepared - she thought of where she would take Nain. Young Garmund’s tale of what he had seen at the old ruins had intrigued her, but there seemed little point in going to them when they had all already heard all there was to see a good few times. Still musing, she looked up as Saeryn came through the doorway.

"Good evening, Kara, Eodwine. The Hall seems mostly settled for the night. Is there anything else that needs doing before bed? I would have a word or two with you before then, Eodwine, though there is no rush."

Eodwine saw in Saeryn's eyes a seriousness, but one far less worrisome than in some of the many times she had come to him before.

She padded her way softly across the floor. She had very carefully lost her slippers quite some time ago and now calmly felt the cold of the floor against her toes and hoped she would step on nothing sharp. The kitchen lamps flickered invitingly and she poured herself a cup of relaxing tea with a smile to Kara and she sat quietly, brushing her skirts smooth, waiting for Eodwine to respond.

Eodwine watched Saeryn, wondering where this demure young woman had come from. She had grown quiet and perhaps a little distant of late, and he did not like it. But maybe he had been somewhat distant himself.

Seeing that this was serious, Kara made ready to leave. While she was as much a lover of gossip as the next person she had seen the hurt that the recent rumours had been causing Saeryn and felt that perhaps this ought to remain private.

"There is no rush. And Kara," Eodwine said, "you need not leave. When you are done, sit with us, if you will." He turned back to Saeryn. "What do you wish to speak of?"

"Not a what, but a he. Trystan." she stated bluntly, though politely. She watched Eodwine's eyebrows raise slightly. "Tell me what you think of him?"

Surprised but glad at the turn the conversation had taken, Kara followed Eodwine’s instructions and sat down. Trystan was a less volatile subject than the one she had thought was about to be discussed, and one she was interested in. His treatment at arrival had caused some distress, not least because of the odour that had clung to him for days after, and while she had heard Saeryn’s opinions on the matter, she had yet to hear Eodwine’s.

"A callow youth in need of training, he is; smart but unwise, and needs to learn wisdom. He has begun to learn it. I am surprised that he has chosen to stay here and learn it; but it is a good sign." Eodwine eyed Saeryn and allowed a wry smile. "Unless, of course, he has other reasons to stay, such as a fair maiden or two."

Saeryn smiled in return, though only briefly. "I understand your intent, Eodwine, but Trystan as a soldier? He may take orders for a time, but what will happen when he cannot any longer? It is not in his nature, I do not think, to serve for very long in such a role."

"Not in his nature, you say?" Eodwine could not suppress a grin. "His derring do and dash and romance means that he cannot be a soldier? Look at me, Saeryn. I am a lord and have been a soldier. What do you think I was like when I was his age? Take a guess."

At this Saeryn laughed gleefully, the image of Eodwine just out of boyhood coming to her. "Oh fine." she accepted with a full smile. "I suspect very much that you were much like Degas used to be, and the spitting image of our Trystan. But..."

Suddenly Saeryn's plan seemed to her less perfect than it had before. She could think of many things to say, but allowed none of them to be heard. Would Eodwine have this young man, already too wise in the ways of the world, become battle hardened and lose his impertinent grin? Would he ask Trystan to settle into such a calming role when he so obviously thrived in the center of a room's attention?

Saeryn saw chains, not unwelcome, but neither were they inviting. To bind a young man into soldiery was fine... for some. How could Saeryn make the suggestion she'd been thinking on without it seeming that she disapproved of her friend's decision?

Eodwine's heart skipped a beat the moment the smile came to Saeryn's face. That glow was one of the things that drew him to her despite twenty and more years' difference in age. It was not so easy here, now, with her, to take a dagger, as it were, and cut his thoughts and feelings about her in two as he had been able to do before Queen Lothiriel.

"But you still think that Trystan should not be made into a soldier." Saeryn nodded. "Has he said he does not want it?"

"Not in any way so that I could hear it, but what words are more important to character, Eodwine? The words one says or the words one keeps to one's self? This attribute of him... it makes me think... it makes me wonder, really..." Her thought spilled suddenly forth in her impatience to be done with them. Let what may come, come. "Eodwine, you have protection for your household already in terms of soldiery. With the menfolk in your service and who are friends to you, I cannot forsee an offense they could not counter, if not out of strength than out of love and loyalty.

"You have protection, if it comes to that, and you have cooks and those who help to clean. You have Léof for your stables, though I wonder, if with so many guests, he might find use for a young helper. No, not Trystan. He is too dramatic for horsework.

"You have builders and quilters and healers-in-training. You have a lady for your hall who minds the affairs of the household and guests in the position of housekeeper as well." She smiled slightly before letting it fade into worried seriousness. "Eodwine... please hear me.

"When my parents lived, they had no need for such thought... their news came from all sorts. Morning chats with sellers in the market, passing travellers, visiting nobles. My parents were well known and well liked. People spoke candidly to them. You are well liked by those who know you, but Eodwine, you have not been a lord for long. Word travels and words meet and words twine around each other until trouble arises. Most times talk amounts to nothing but more talk, but it is always good to know what people say and think."

"I know well enough what people say and think, for the gossip is rife around this town," said Eodwine with a touch of ire. "And who are my sources for the juiciest morsels? The queen herself, if you can believe it. I suppose, Saeryn you know what they say?" He eyed her briefly but looked away, embarrassed by the subject now that it was on the verge of being spoken in this, their very own kitchen. "They say that I dishonor you, Saeryn. And what's more, they are right. So I must know something from you, and 'tis good that Kara is here to witness my question and your answer. Is - Would - Do you - . Do you want me for your husband, or would you rather seek another?" There. It was out. Raw and poorly it was asked, he could feel it, and he could read nothing on her face other than a wide eyed look of amazement or horror, he could not tell which.

Suddenly desperate to leave, Kara fidgeted in her chair. Everything had become so serious so fast that she had not had time to make her excuses and go, and now she was stuck in the midst of a conversation that she was sure Saeryn at least did not want witnesses for. Perhaps she could still find a reason to leave, but it would be obvious why and, though she hated to admit it, she wanted to hear the answer.

Saeryn stifled a gasp. She had heard the rumors, yes both heard them and tried to ignore them and worried herself into not sleeping soundly over what was said of her, of Eodwine's honor, of Saeryn's upbringing and her parents. She'd heard slights upon her dead father, whispers of a mother who did not know how to raise a daughter properly. She'd been asked outright if it were true that she was with child. She had told Eodwine none of it and had borne it in silence, but she had forgotten that Eodwine would hear it just as well as she might. But from the queen! Saeryn's eyes grew wet with angry tears.

"Kara and Frodides and Medreth work for you and nobody speaks of them in such a way!" Saeryn finally exclaimed, furiously wiping her eyes before the tears could spill over. She knew what she said was foolish even before saying it; they were wonderful women, but none of them ladies.

Would she seek for another husband? She wanted no husband at all! It wasn't fair, that was all there was to it. If she stayed, the rumors would continue until and even after she married Eodwine.

"Eodwine..." she began. She stopped suddenly, shivering. What would Mother and Father say? Father would have given her the very same choice. It was no bad match to wed the Eorl of the lands, and to marry a man of such years was not unheard of. He would ask her to think and to think very hard, but he would not make the choice for her. My little Saery, you will do what you must. You will do what is right. She could hear him so clearly. She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears that still threatened. Her mother's voice... Little one, would you be content? Would you be happy? You must do what is right. There seemed no other way. No way to end this, but perhaps a way to escape the harsh words, the hard reality.

"Eodwine..." she began again, casting a quick glance to Kara who seemed both shocked and enraptured at the exchange before her. "Your wife." she ended simply.

Meeting Saeryn’s eyes Kara saw the turmoil in them. This wasn’t a good choice to the girl who was too speedily becoming a woman, it was simply the best of a lot of bad choices. She wanted to interrupt, to explain this to Eodwine in the hope that she could somehow dissuade him from putting poor Saeryn on the spot like this and was on the point of doing so when he suddenly demonstrated that even an Eorl could have moments of idiocy.

"My wife? She is dead. I no longer seek her. It was a passing fancy. Is that your worry? I-" Eodwine glanced at Kara who's eyes appeared to be about ready to pop out of their sockets with what appeared to be mounting frustration at him. "- ah -" Suddenly he understood. Eodwine, you fool. "You would wed me." He said it as if he were a law man in court, checking what he'd heard with the witness on the stand. "Saeryn, I will be old and a wretched man weak in his bones and sinews while you are yet hale. Are you sure?"

"No." she sniffed. "I am not. And in that lack of surety, I would not wed you. I just want this public viewing of my life to end and I know that it cannot."

She stood suddenly, smoothing her skirts, and quietly, gracefully, fled the kitchen leaving a dumbstruck Eodwine and a very confused Kara behind her.

Eodwine turned to Kara. "Well, at least she can stay here then." He sighed with relief, tinged with a sense of loss. Not to wife. Then he would father her as best he could. But she had not said that; she had said she was not sure, which was the most true thing he could have hoped. All the more reason to father her and end all such gossiping once and for all. He would relieve her of the confusion. He turned to Kara again. "You have been quieter than I thought you would be. I will tell you my mind in any case. I will foster her and not woo her. I'll make it clear to her and all here, and to the queen. What think you?"

“I have been quiet, lord, because this business is between you and Saeryn, or at least she would prefer it that way. But since you do wish for my thought I will give it. You are pushing her too hard and too fast and that, along with the difficulty of dealing with what many people are saying, is causing confusion and worry within her mind. She is still young, and this may be the most important decision she will ever have to make. It is possible though that, in future, she will wish to wed you, and be sure and happy about it. Lord, if there is a way that you can stop the rumours and take this pressure off Saeryn yet still leave the option open for her, I think that would be best for all.”

"Then I will demote her to head cleaning girl, and make you hostess. That is my thought." He sighed. "And maybe a bad one. I have let my own wishes get in the way of what is best, and I am sorry for it. I think we will all three of us do well to sleep on this and speak more of it later. Good night, Kara."

Taralphiel

12-03-2006, 04:26 AM

Lys had once thought sitting in the quiet was agonising and avoided it at every cost. Lying in his bed for those many weeks made him ruminate on the shadows, the cold and the rain. But after a day as filled with excitement as this one, Lys was content to lean against a wall in the coutryard and let all his thoughts slip into place.

Thornden was now his guardian. Thornden was now his family. The thoughts were like a warm, comforting cloak that kept Lys from the frigid cold. He had hoped that Thornden would always care for him and take him in, but he had never hoped that he would be accepted so warmly.

Lys also took in the rest of the evening. Thornden had to speak with Lord Eodwine, and Lys had headed for the dining hall. When the announcement was made, Lys could only stare. He felt himself very rude, but could not help it.

Lys did not find himself afraid or Lefun and Ritun. He was curious. He could see in their faces no malice nor harm to another being. But Lys wondered how they had survived so long as they were. They both seemed so far removed from people, that they were even afraid? Lys could not tell that much from them. But he had an insatiable desire to talk to them. The children surged forward to talk to the twins, but Lys shrunk back, suddenly shy and not quite aware of what to say. Instead, he finished his meal and retreated outdoors into the cool air.

Staring up at the stars as they tracked above the thin wisps of clouds, Lys wondered what the Mead Hall would have in store for the new visitors. He wondered if, like himself, they would have to worry about finding a place amongst the inhabitants of the Hall. Colour came to his cheeks as he realised how selfish his thoughts were. 'They have had a terrible time, I should not compare myself to them! If I have ever had struggles, I do not remember them...'

The realisation sank in with a dull pain that Lys shrugged off. For now he was content knowing he had the beginning of a family, and perhaps the start of new friends in Javan and Léof. 'If all these memories are buried away, perhaps it would be better to simply build new ones' Lys thought to himself.

Folwren

12-03-2006, 08:56 AM

Thornden smiled and drew back a moment after Stigend asked his question. His arms came off the back of the chair and his hands wrapped around the sides. “I haven’t done very much building, really,” Thornden said. “But I would be willing to put my mind and hands to it, if you’d be willing to try to teach me.”

His small smile was returned in full from Stigend. The carpenter was glad to hear that. Thornden then asked what all had been done that day, and the two men began to give a detailed account. Garstan had apparently finished most of the stonework. The ovens were completed and all that was left was to place a few more stones in the hearth, so that it extended some three to four feet from the fire place in a half circle.

“Ran out of daylight today, or I would have done it all,” Garstan said. “It won’t take very long at all.”

Stigend then explained what he had done. More work on the beams and other wood that would soon begin to be put in place. Thornden listened with interest and when Stigend had done, he asked another question.

“So, tomorrow, you say, you’ll be in need of a few steady hands?”

“In a day or two, anyway,” Stigend corrected.

“Good. Well, then, unless Eodwine has need for me elsewhere, I will be more than happy to help you.” He stood up as he spoke and moved the chair from beneath him. “Thank you very much for the account of today. I hope all turns out well with your children. I am going to make certain that my own two charges are getting ready to turn in and then I think I will do so myself. Goodnight.”

The two men said goodnight as well and Thornden turned and left the hall. He went slightly and quickly upstairs and opened his door softly to see if Javan had gone to bed. He had, and he was sound asleep, snoring softly as he lay on his back. Thornden left again at once and went back down stairs to Lys’ room. This bedroom was empty and the bed still made.

“He must still be outside!” Thornden said quietly to himself as he went back out. “I’ll look to see.” He did so accordingly and upon exiting the building saw Lys almost at once, seating with his back against the wall and his head tilted upwards. Thornden stopped and looked, somewhat surprised to see Lys sitting alone. He approached in a moment and knelt on one knee in front of him. He touched the boy’s hand and Lys looked down. “What are you doing out here?” Thornden asked. “I thought that by now, you’d be in bed, what with everything you’ve done today. Aren’t you worn out?”

Celuien

12-03-2006, 02:48 PM

Thornden walked away, leaving Garstan and Stigend alone once more.

"We still have the matter of Garmund and Cnebba, Stigend. I do not like Garmund's jealousy and would have this settled. It has been hard on him, maybe, to live here after we had been wanderers for so long, but I had not thought it would be so. I do not think that he means to be angry with Cnebba. Neither do I think that Cnebba means to make Garmund angry with him."

Stigend added, "The worst of it is that they were friends at first. I was glad to see their friendship, all the more so because my family has found few friends before now. I too would see this ended."

Garstan cried, "Then let us have an end to it tonight! My headstrong boy will not tell me his mind, but he will tell Cnebba. And Cnebba should tell Garmund his answer. Maybe when they have spoken they will see the folly of this rivalry."

"And if they do not?"

Garstan frowned, not liking his answer. "Then I fear that our children must be kept apart for a time. Until they learn to miss each other's company and are able to behave well together again. Shall we gather the two of them and meet in our rooms?"

Nogrod

12-03-2006, 04:39 PM

"I do agree with you on this one. We should all talk this over, not just us two, but all of us, everyone... and tonight if possible. The sooner the better." Stigend said looking at his friend to the eye. Garstan nodded in return.

"Would you three come to our room upstairs? We have more space in there and if I recall it rightly you haven't visited our quarters as a family yet?" Stigend added, now already smiling a bit, an assuring look on his face.

"We will accept your invitation. We'll be there in a moment." Garstan replied and turned to leave.

"By the way. Let's also think of different solutions to our problem too? If we could give Garmund and Cnebba a challenge that would force them to trust and count on each other? That might make them friends again, even stronger friends as they were. I would be very happy to see that. But it might make it even harder for us to bring them back again if it goes wrong." Stigend called after Garstan who was already on his way.

Garstan stopped and turned to answer after a second of thought.

"I'll promise to think of a challenge. It sounds good indeed - if we just can come up with a good one... See you soon!" Garstan called Stigend and continued towards his quarters.

Slowly Stigend turned around too and started climbing the stairs wondering what Modtryth and Cnebba had been talking about meanwhile and what would be the mood in there as he would enter their room.

Thinlómien

12-04-2006, 04:51 AM

Cnebba sat on the floor, playing with his favourite wooden horse made by his father. Modtryth sat on the bed, patching Cnebba's old trousers. Both were in deep thought.

"Mum?"
"Yes, Cnebba?"
"What's going to happen this evening?" He was trying to make his voice disinterested and indifferent.

Modtryth laid her work on the bed. "Once your dad comes, we must discuss." Cnebba turned around to face her, still holding the horse. "Me too?" "Yes, you too, Cnebba." She made a little pause before continuing. "And eventually, we three will discuss with Garstan, Garmund and Léodern." Cnebba made no reply, but turned his back to his mother again, and started playing again.

Modtryth sighed and took up the needle and the cloth.

Kath

12-04-2006, 06:17 AM

"Then I will demote her to head cleaning girl, and make you hostess. That is my thought." He sighed. "And maybe a bad one. I have let my own wishes get in the way of what is best, and I am sorry for it. I think we will all three of us do well to sleep on this and speak more of it later. Good night, Kara."

Shocked at Eodwine's words it took Kara a moment to realise he was leaving, but as his good night fell she jumped up from her seat and took his sleeve between her fingers to gain his attention and stop him. Of any talk that had gone by tonight this was the most startling to Kara and she was determined to put an end to it now.

"My lord, I agree that sleep would do us all well, but not if all it will do is encourage this latest thought. If you demote Saeryn now it would be as though you were punishing her for not wishing to marry you."

Eodwine's mouth opened in protest but Kara barely noticed, agitated as she now was, and she swept on.

"Even if that is not your meaning the gossips that speak of your every move will certainly make something of it, and Saeryn too will be hurt by such a decision. She has thoughts to leave, Eodwine, you know that. Treating her like a, a child will only encourage those thoughts. If she believes she isn't wanted here or that she is a burden to you she will not stay."

Kara paused a moment to let Eodwine absorb what she had said and to give herself a chance to calm down. She was aware that her words could be seen as insulting and she had no desire to offend the man who had given her work and a home and made her feel so welcome. Still, it was important he understood what would happen if he went through with something thought up in the heat of a moment.

Softer now, with humour in her voice, she continued.

"And as for making me hostess? I have no noble blood in me and would not have the first idea of what to do. I like my position well enough thank you, lord. In any case, Frodides would have your head if you took me away now when she has just got used to sharing her kitchen. She likes Saeryn but would not take kindly to training another girl up from scratch just when she's done hammering her wisdom into the last one."

littlemanpoet

12-04-2006, 11:14 AM

Eodwine listened to Kara's sudden outpouring of words with a mixture of shock and subdued delight. This girl had hidden a lot of spunk up until now. It was obvious that having spent so much time with Frodides had added some spice to the girl's delivery, and Eodwine liked that too. He liked most of all the common sense and earthy, homey wisdom coming from Kara. Now she was waiting, with some mild shock at her own forwardness, for his reaction. She seemed just a little frightened.

He smiled. "This is why I wanted you to stay and listen, for I do not wholly trust myself in matters touching the lady Saeryn. You speak sense. And a fine cook and ruler of the kitchen you'll make if and when Frodides decides to bequeath the title upon you. I will take your advice, Kara, and make no decisions in haste. You are right about Saeryn, I deem. We shall see how she acts on the morrow.

"I fear that the words of the Queen today, as well as those of the King, have tripped me up a bit, and I am as unsettled as a foal trying out his legs for the first time. A good night's sleep it is, then, and I want you to see yourself to bed in not too long a time either! And now, good night, and pleasant dreams!

"Unless there is anything else?"

Kath

12-04-2006, 11:45 AM

Blushing at the unexpected praise as well as in relief that she wasn't being sent packing for so boldly arguing with the Eorl Kara shook her head. The mention of the King and Queen had her curious but she could see the tiredness in Eodwine's eyes and was sure that her own reflected the same.

"No, lord. I'm glad that you will take the time to think this over but you are right, it is time to sleep, and I will do so just as soon as I've got this kitchen in order. Good night, and sleep well."

Eodwine smiled at her, his gaze sweeping over a room that no doubt to his eyes seemed sorted for the night already, but he made no comment. Nodding to her he left.

Truthfully there was little to do. The preparations for the morning had been done before Frodides left for the night, and Kara had finished her tidying up before sitting down for the intense conversation that had just gone by. She knew though that she needed to relax before she tried to go to bed or she would be up all night, and washing the table tops would do that nicely.

Gently she smoothed the cloth in circles, nodding and wishing a good night to those who wandered past or through the kitchen on their way home or to bed, until at last she felt calm enough to sleep. She blew out the few remaining lights and made her way upstairs.

JennyHallu

12-04-2006, 04:09 PM

Twilight had long ago faded when Linduial returned to the tower room. A sleepy-eyed maid helped her unlace the silk dress and brushed out her dark hair, releasing it from its braid. A preoccupied wave from her mistress dismissed the girl, who left in relief to finally go to her rest.

Lin slipped into a soft linen shift, and wrapped a deep blue satin robe around her. It was an exotic thing, brought by her brothers from the far southeast beyond Harad, covered in elaborate embroidered panels that told a fantastic story of stylized dragons and a beautiful princess, but today she wrapped the silver sash tightly around her waist and stepped out onto the balcony without a second thought of the fierceness of the dragons or the ethereal beauty of the raven haired princess.

The cold sea breeze buffeted her face, clearing the last of her uncle’s delicate wine from her system and pulling her hair out behind her like a pennant. This high up she couldn’t feel the spray of the waves dashing against the cliffs beside the harbor mouth, but she could hear them, taste the salty brine like nectar in the back of her throat. Lin had always empathized with those last desperate kings of Atalantë; had understood the undeniable call the sea had for her ancestors, and sorrowed with them, felt their rebellion and their guilt, when the storytellers revealed the consequence of their hubris. It wasn’t fair! How could something so lovely and so loving as the ocean’s waters hold such danger for her people?

And today her uncle had offered her a dream almost as powerful.

Lin’s mind had not stopped racing the same circles since she’d left the dinner table, giving her family a distracted courtesy and practically fleeing back to the safe harbor of her room. One day. One day only to make a decision that would set the course of her life, for better or worse. She closed her eyes in the wind, letting it rush over her features until the laminar flow had soothed her battered nerves, stripped away her doubts and insecurities, and left her mind and soul bare before the raw power of the sea.

It was time, now that she was calm, to think over what Imrahil had suggested.

The evening had begun simply enough. She’d found her seat at table, the melancholy that was becoming habitual preventing her from wondering why she was seated at Imrahil’s right hand. It was not her usual place; she was but the youngest daughter of the Prince’s younger brother, and Imrahil had grown children of his own to share his table. Thinking back, she realized that the worried gaze her father had turned on her until she’d mechanically began eating had been followed by a significant glance at his brother, who’d nodded and turned to his niece. “Ah, little Linduial,” he’d said fondly, “we were so relieved to hear you had been rescued and were coming home to safety.”

“Thank you, my lord Uncle.” Lin’s response was adequate, but barely so, and Imrahil was not willing to let her wallow in what must have seemed to him a childish sulk.

“We were also glad to hear that justice was done, and we may now rest in peace about your safety,” he pushed, his formal tone indicating that an answer was required.

Lin remembered his surprised look at her vehement response, and realized that she herself had been startled by how much she cared. Nothing had seemed that important since her return home, but then, no one had asked her that question.

“Justice was not done,” she’d said, her voice low and firm. Her dark eyes flashed with the terror and misery of her capture, and her uncle had sat back, a thoughtful expression filling his eyes as he heard her out. “Men were killed, two before my eyes. An innocent servant of your daughter, my lord, and a man whose mind was little more than a child’s. How is his death justice, when he had no understanding of his crime? And—“ She realized how loud her voice had ridden, and flushed at the piteous looks wafting her way. Poor Lin, that’s what they were thinking. Poor little lady Lin, who was kidnapped. Pretty little thing, but…helpless without her brothers along. “—the man who rescued me,” she continued, barely above a whisper, “who risked his life in saving mine…he is a fugitive. How was justice served?”

Imrahil looked across at her with the same pity in his own eyes, and she tried to turn away from it, but his voice held her. “Oh, my dear,” he said, looking at this young creature who reminded him so deeply of his beloved sister, now long gone away to Minas Tirith and thence beyond, the first casualty of Denethor’s madness. “You are not little Lin anymore, are you?”

The love in the question demanded honesty of her, and she would not disappoint her uncle. “My lord, I have not been little Lin for many years. Not since the storm that crushed the city when I was fifteen. But this…” she waved her hand in a vague gesture, meant to indicate the events of the past few dark months. The prince seemed to understand, so she went on painfully. “This has shaken me more than I can bear, and I would give anything to be little Lin again, free to delight in presents and parties, in poetry and praise. But I’m not the same person that I was, and the days will not turn back. I am no child anymore, but I am without rudder or sail, and I know neither how nor where to set my course.”

“But you did before,” he stated gently, urging her carefully through the tricky shoals of her depression.

“Ah, uncle,” she sighed, with a little wistful smile. “Remember how when I was small, you and father both used to call me Little Bird?”

He laughed. “Of course I do. It was just after Lothiriel’s wedding. Farlen and I took you through the mews and the menagerie to see which sort you were. You tried to sing with them. Thank goodness your voice improved with age.”

“And lessons,” she laughed softly with him, “but I remember which birds were my favorite. The canary and the kestrel.”

He nodded. “An interesting pair, those two. Certainly couldn’t survive long together.”

“Well, up to now, Uncle, I’ve been the canary, content to enjoy my fine feathers and sing my glad song, safe within my gilded cage. I liked being spoiled and cosseted and petted, and rebelled against anything that might rattle my serenity. That’s why I went to Rohan in the first place, to escape some imagined plan that might force me to change my ways.”

She paused, and Imrahil murmured for her to continue. A server took her soup bowl and set down the fish course. She couldn’t remember having finished the soup but the bowl was most certainly dry. She took a dainty bite (ah, the seeming years since she’d enjoyed properly prepared swordfish) and washed it down with a sip of the crisp white wine before going on.

“Now I think I am more like the kestrel. I am impatient with the cage, anxious for the hunt. The song I wish to sing is wilder, harsher, freer. And father…”

Imrahil nodded in perfect understanding, earning him a grateful look from his niece. “Farlen and your brothers are the jesses.”

“They do not mean to be,” Lin rushed to explain. “They only love me and mean well, and I do not wish to seem ungrateful for their care…”

“Hush now,” he laughed at her. “I love them too, I understand.”

She smiled sheepishly at him. “They just want me to be happy, but they want me to be helpless little Lin again. They bring me presents, and try to protect and coddle me, and expect me to be like any other wellborn child, doing my embroidery and planning my wedding, and before you ask, yes I have a suitor, one of the Rohirrim, who I plan to entertain seriously, but neither he nor I are ready for marriage, and if you expect me to wed anytime soon yet give me choice in the matter, you will be disappointed.” He laughed and Lin laughed with him, pleased and surprised to find herself feeling somewhat alive again, finally able to ignore her father’s pointed glances. Finally, someone was asking her what she wished in her life, and didn’t care how farfetched the answer was. “But I am the kestrel, and they force me to play the canary, and as you said: the two cannot survive together. I am being pulled two ways and I fear being wrenched totally apart. And—“ she paused again, using a bite of fish as an excuse to order her words before she spoke. “—I cannot be helpless again. I have known total helplessness and total dependence, and they terrify me. I must confess I wish I were a boy. Were I but my father’s son rather than a daughter, I could go adventuring, travel the world and learn myself and what I am sufficient for. I would beg of you some impossible quest and swear you my fealty and—“

“All right,” Imrahil said, grinning as the courses were changed again.

“What?” Try as she might Lin couldn’t remember just what that third course had been. Imrahil’s offer had so floored her that she couldn’t even remember what the subtleties were, something she usually delighted in.

“I’ll take your measure, give you a quest of my choosing, and accept your fealty. That would free you from your father’s house, and give you the purpose you’re so desperate for, the quarry for your hunt, little hawk. But only if you’re sure that’s what you wish.”

“I-I don’t know. Truly, I meant it only as a passing fancy.”

“So you’re not interested?”

“No! I mean—yes, I’m interested. But I fear I may not have thoroughly considered the idea.”

“I’ll give you some time; a day, perhaps. If I think of the quest I’ll set you on before that time, I’ll even be so generous as to let you know. I haven’t anything in particular in mind anyway. My mind’s still focused on some appointments I have to make, and I must take your measure before knowing what task you are suited for. Meanwhile…” he smiled as he changed the subject. “Tell me about Rohan.”

The rest of the meal had been filled with conversation. Question after question about the country: its people, its politics, the economy, what opportunities for trade Lin saw. The questions became more and more complex and Imrahil’s features more and more self-satisfied as she answered, racking her mind and memories for details she might have missed, innuendoes in half-forgotten conversations that might give her a slight clue as to the true answers of his questions. At one point, she’d turned to him accusingly: “But, Uncle, you know all this. Your daughter’s the Queen of Rohan. Why are you asking me?”

“I don’t know all of it,” he pointed out reasonably. “And Lothiriel’s first loyalties are now to her husband, and not her father, which is right and proper. Besides,” and his eyes had twinkled wickedly. “I want to know if you know it.”

And then the brief meeting in Imrahil’s study after the meal, the unbelievable offer of a specific ‘quest’, a role, a career, a task beyond her wildest dreams. She hadn’t even noticed the amused look in his eyes as he’d looked at her dazed face. “Only one thing,” he’d warned. “If you decide this is what you want to do, I can’t wait until supper. I hold open court in midafternoon.”

“I know what time,” she’d answered breathlessly.

“You must decide by then, and present yourself to me in formal court. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The question, Lin decided, wind making her eyes water as she stood on the balcony, was not whether she would like to take his offer, but whether she were capable of the job it would require of her. She sighed, going inside for a moment then reappearing on the balcony with a chair and a shawl. There would be no sleep this night.

Celuien

12-04-2006, 08:26 PM

Garstan walked into his room. Garmund and Lèoðern were already there, staring at each other in stony silence, waiting to see who would look away first.

"Lèoðern. Garmund. Come. We're going to see Cnebba and his parents."

Lèoðern scrambled over to the door but Garmund hung back. "Do we have to?" he asked.

"Yes. I will not have the two of you fighting. You and he will settle this tonight. Come. Now."

Lèoðern skipped down the hall, holding Garstan's hand. Garmund loped behind them on unwilling feet.

Taralphiel

12-05-2006, 05:02 AM

Lys started when he felt Thornden come near and gently take his hand.

"What are you doing out here? I thought that by now, you’d be in bed, what with everything you’ve done today. Aren’t you worn out?" Lys smiled widely and shook his head. "No, I am not yet tired. So much has happened, but my head just wants to sit and think about it all, and not sleep." The boy shifted and stood, still gently holding Thornden’s hand.

"I must say thank you, Thornden. I am very happy that you have decided to take care of me. I’m glad to suddenly have family. It is exciting, and wonderful, and comforting." Lys watched Thornden’s pleased expression, and returned it without hesitation.

Lys pressed his hands back to his knees, righting himself flat onto his feet. Taking a few exploring steps about the courtyard, he stared at his limp critically.

"Thornden, what use can I be of here?" Lys turned and looked at him suddenly, an appealing look in his eyes "I do not want to be useless. It is more than a small worry for me. I want...you to be proud of me..."

~*~

Thornden

"Thornden, what use can I be of here?" Lys turned and looked at him suddenly, an appealing look in his eyes "I do not want to be useless. It is more than a small worry for me. I want...you to be proud of me..."

“That shouldn’t be difficult,” Thornden said as lightly as he could, struggling with the impulse to be too serious. “I’m not a difficult fellow to please.” Lys didn’t smile. He was being serious. “We’ll find something that you can do successfully, Lys,” Thornden said as reassuringly as he could. “I promise you we will. And I will be proud of you. I already am. I picked you up half dead just a little while ago, a heap that barely resembled a human boy. And look at you now! Walking - and actually worrying about what work you can put your hands to! With such a want to work, you will go far, Lys, even if your body does remain weak in comparison with others, and even if your ankle never completely heals.

“Come,” he said after a small pause, “let’s go in.”

Celuien

12-05-2006, 04:02 PM

With the quick pace set by Lèoðern's skipping, it took little time to reach Stigend's door. Garstan knocked while Garmund slowly came up behind, still not looking forward to meeting Cnebba again. He thought everyone - even his own father - was working against him, trying to make him seem less than Cnebba. Dragging him to see Cnebba did not make things seem better. Garmund was sure that the point of the trip was to make yet another offer to admit wrong against Cnebba. All this when Cnebba had started the trouble in the first place!

Stigend opened the door and clasped Garstan's hand. While the fathers exchanged greetings, Lèoðern looked around the room to spot Cnebba sitting on the floor. She ran over and joined him in a game with a wooden horse. Garmund scowled.

Garstan noticed the look on Garmund's face and the reason for it. "Lèoðern. We're not here to play. Come over here." She pouted and stood in front of Garstan, twisting around with her arms crossed. Cnebba rose and stood with his parents.

"Cnebba," Garstan began. "I remember when you first came here. You and Garmund were friends, even as your father and I are friends. But that has not been so of late, and I would have you be friends once again. And so I want to know what has gone ill between you. Garmund, I am told that you grudge Cnebba's spending time with Lèoðern. Is that so?"

Garmund flushed and blinked. He had not thought that his father had known that. Said that way, it made him sound small and spiteful. And wasn't quite what bothered Garmund. Cnebba and Lèoðern could play as much as they wanted so long as Cnebba wasn't trying to replace him.

"No. It isn't so," Garmund said irritably.

"What is it then?"

Garmund looked at Lèoðern, then at Cnebba. They would laugh at him if he told why he was angry.

And so Garmund's answer was, "Nothing. Can we go now?"

"No. Not until this is answered. But if you will not speak, perhaps Cnebba will."

Nogrod

12-07-2006, 04:04 PM

Suddenly they all seemed to be looking at Cnebba, waiting for him to say something. Cnebba was embarrassed. But even more than that he felt angered by Garmund's answer. Nothing! That's what you say!

Cnebba rose up and stared at Garmund with his deep brown eyes. "You say that nothing! First you get mad on just losing one game, then you sneak to an adventure without us and when you find wonders you try to hide them from us and scorn me for no reason! One friend you are! You're a bully like all those others I've known!"

"You liar!", Garmund called back.

Both Stigend and Garstan had to take hold of their sons.

"Are you being honest now, Cnebba?", Stigend asked his son, kneeling down to meet his eyes, still pressing his shoulder firmly. "What have we discussed about being truthful?"

Cnebba tried to avoid his father's eyes and felt the tears coming forwards again. He tried to get free from Stigend's grip but was held tight in his place. "Now answer me Cnebba!" Stigend said now with a notably stern tone in his voice. "Was the game you played today a fair one?"

Cnebba was shaking visibly as he almost whispered his answer, his head bowed down: "No." Stigend was just about to demand a louder answer when Modtryth broke in, laying her hand on Stigend's shoulder and looking at him in a way that held Stigend back.

"It may be that Cnebba has not been totally truthful in his answer, but I'm afraid he is not the only one hiding the truth here." Garstan said turning towards his son in turn. "Now I believe there were also things that were true in what Cnebba said, now was there?"

Garmund didn't answer. But Lèoðern did.

"He was rude to Cnebba when we were trying to ask those twins to play with us! And he tried to hide them from us all the time!"

Garmund looked like he could burst from anger at any moment.

"Maybe we women go out and have just a little walk outside, talking womens' stuff together." Modtryth said and looked questioningly at Garstan. After thinking about it for a second Garstan nodded his approval. "Come Lèoðern, we'll let the men have a talk without us for a while. We'll come back soon." The last sentence she directed to both of the fathers as well even though she was talking to Lèoðern.

There was a moment of thick silence in the room after Modtryth and Lèoðern left. The boys casted sulking glances at each other and the fathers looked more or less helpless.

Thinlómien

12-08-2006, 05:40 AM

Modtryth and Lèoðern left the room, and Modtryth closed the door behind them. The little girl cast an expecting look at her. "Come, follow me", Modtryth told the girl and offered her hand. Lèoðern seemed to be in deep thought. However, she took Modtryth's hand and followed her. So unlike Cnebba, Modtryth thought.

They walked down the stairs, across the house to the yard. "Where are we going?" Lèoðern asked. Modtryth paused and looked at her. "We're going to see Snowstreak. I have no doubt Cnebba has presented her to you already, but I haven't seen her for a few days and I thought she wouldn't mind company, that dear old creature." That was actually a lie; she had last visited the old gentle mare on the morning. Lèoðern nodded and then she ran to the stables. Modtryth followed walking.

When she entered, she found Lèoðern already caressing Snowstreak, and teasing the horse with an apple. Where she had got it from, Modtryth had no idea. She stood there, near the door for a while, resting her mind in the homely sight.

Snowstreak noticed her and neighed at her. Modtryth came to the mare and patted her neck. Lèoðern gave the apple to the horse, and started stroking her head. "Is this women's talk?" Lèoðern asked after a while.

Modtryth stroked the horse's mane. "No", she replied after a while and cast a gentle look at the girl, "this is horses' talk."

Celuien

12-09-2006, 08:48 PM

After Lèoðern left, Garmund said, "Do you see, father? My own sister sides against me and with him now." Garmund couldn't even bring himself to use Cnebba's name. "That's what he's been about all the time. Stealing my friends and my sister. Because he can't find friends on his own, sneak that he is."

"I'm not a sneak!" Cnebba cried.

"Yes you are. And Master Falco was right to tell me to not tell you about the twins. You'd just play sneaking tricks on them like you have on me."

Cnebba looked ready to cry again.

"Garmund! Be quiet!" Garstan ordered sharply. "I will not have this." He stopped, vexed at the depth of his son's anger and at the cruel words in which it showed itself.

"It seems that there is a plain choice. You must either stay away from each other for a time, or you must learn to be friends again." Garmund shot a look to his father. The second choice did not sound like one he would choose willingly, but he had a sinking feeling that it would be thrust upon him.

"I would rather that you became friends again. Stigend, you spoke of a challenge earlier to make out boys work together. What is your plan?"

Garmund felt his heart sinking to his toes. Working with Cnebba? Anything but that.

~*~

Lèoðern giggled. "Horses talk? I don't hear Snowstreak talking. Can you talk, Snowstreak?" The horse neighed again, and Lèoðern laughed.

"Snowstreak is talking."

Nogrod

12-11-2006, 12:28 PM

"I haven't come up with anything yet, I'm sorry. But let's see. Wasn't it that Marenil suggested the children going forwards with some studies?" Stigend answered, scratching his chin slowly, looking like he was on to something. "Shouldn't Lèoðern start as early as possible? Tomorrow maybe? But the lads then again... if they can't stand each other, they surely won't be able to study?" Stigend grinned mildly, looking at both of the boys.

Garstan was following his idea soon enough: "So if they can't take the classes with Lèoðern, then they must have something else to do..."

Stigend nodded approvingly. "Maybe they could be doing something that is both harder and less fun? I think lord Eodwine could have something that needs to be done... and if he hasn't, we might provide them with something"

"Like cleaning the yard or overhauling the tools?" Garstan grinned now openly.

"Like you say." Stigend smiled him back. Both boys were looking at their fathers with growing concern but simultaneoysly trying to hide their concern from the other.

"And as they would be falling back in studies, they should have to spend their evenings with them. Or what do you think?" Garstan added.

"Sure. It would be bad if Lèoðern would be the only one to learn reading or counting. It would be a shame indeed if they would have to ask her to read and count for them!" Stigend was almost chuckling now. Cnebba made an annoyed face at his father but he didn't seem to care the least, but continued. "And surely, if Lèoðern studies during the mornings, she should then hang with the twins in the evening as these boys are up studying. She shouldn't bother them, now should she?"

That was too much for both youngsters.

"They are my friends! You can't do that! Why Lèoðern?" Garmund exclaimed to Garstan.

"No! Why are you punishing only me? Why am I the only one who can't meet them?" Cnebba cried to his father.

The men looked at each other.

"Maybe we found the key just now?" Stigend said, holding his struggling son in his grip.

"It looks like we did." Garstan answered, trying to hold his son in place. "But I'm not sure if Lèoðern is an innocent enough to get a reward like that..."

"I see." Stigend replied and then thought for it a moment before making the suggestion. "So Lèoðern needs to come up with something to do by herself in the evenings when the boys study until she learns to appreciate both of them right... and untill the boys get together again they will be neither playing with her or the twins but making a lots of hard work and studying..."

"A bit tough, is it?" Garstan said, smiling openly.

"Yes." Stigend replied, shaking Cnebba from the shoulder. "You heard the rules son. Now it would be a fine end to this day if you would apologise Garmund before he goes to sleep."

Cnebba tried to twist himself free from his father's grip but failed. Garmund looked worriedly to his father as if being afraid that the same demand would be put on him too.

Celuien

12-12-2006, 12:16 PM

"I think Garmund too should tell Cnebba that he is sorry. It would make working together tomorrow easier if some bad feelings were put aside before the night is ended."

Garmund hung his head to avoid his father's look. "I won't. It's not my fault."

"No?"

"No. Not unless Cnebba says he's sorry first."

"Me sorry?" cried Cnebba. "You're the one who's been mean. I won't."

Though unhappy with the boys' stubbornness, Garstan grinned to Stigend. "Well. It seems that you will need to learn to be friends again first. Maybe it is for the best. The words will mean more if they come after a hard lesson than if forced by your fathers."

Both boys twisted uneasily.

"Now, Stigend. Do you think we should send Cnebba and Garmund away from the hall for their new chores? If they stay here, we can't trust that they will keep to their jobs when there are so many other things to do."

"That is true," Stigend answered. "Garstan, do you remember when we were working earlier? There was a shepherd who came asking for help with the shearing, but there was no one who could be spared with the work here."

Garstan thought back for a moment. The day had been so filled with strange happenings that more ordinary happenings had nearly been forgotten. "Yes. I do now. Ordulf from just outside the town?" Stigend nodded, and Garstan's grin broadened. "It would be a fine thing for our boys to learn to shear sheep."

"So it would."

"Then it is settled. Tomorrow Garmund and Cnebba can go to the shearing, if Lord Eodwine has no other tasks for them."

"And maybe they can take extra chores here too."

"Yes. There is always more work to be done. And I will see to Lèoðern's evening tasks as well. Maybe she can learn needlecraft in the evenings when the boys are at their studies. Good night, Stigend."

"Good night."

Garmund frowned his deepest frown, angry at everyone. When he settled down to sleep for the night, it was without a word to his father or to anyone else.

littlemanpoet

12-14-2006, 08:33 PM

Eodwine's dreams kept him in a fitful slumber all night long. He was walking on the main road in Edoras, and King Eomer and Queen Lothiriel passed him on horses, saying "Catch up!" "I can't! My feet are stuck in this mud!" he called back. Mud? He looked down, and sure enough he was knee deep in the stuff. Marenil walked right by him, on solid ground. Lefun and Ritun came by and stopped, offering a hand up. Eodwine reached for his hand, but Lefun and Ritun were suddenly Saeryn and Kara, and he recoiled from them. "Go your way! I'll struggle through!" Saeryn began weeping. "I won't be your broom handle, nor your shoes!" As they ran off on one pair of legs, Kara looked back reproachfully. Then he was in bed, his covers all mussed up. Falco was his nurse, trying to force a milky Hobbitish concoction down his throat. "Drink your Old Toby!" he said. Eodwine spit the white pipeweed out of his mouth. "Leave me be!" "Fine!" cried the Hobbit, "I'll go look for monsters instead!" He stomped from the room and slammed the door, the sound of which was suddenly Garreth's tankard slammed against the Mead Hall board. "More mead! More lasses! More more more!" There was Marenil at his shoulder. "You really need to make him pay for his food and drink, Eodwine." Then the Mead Hall melted away and they were at Sorn's old landholding, and Linduial was scolding him for not coming sooner. "But the mud held me up!" he insisted. "That's no excuse! With all of your servants you should have had the mud brought along with you!"

A cock crowed. Eodwine lifted his bleary eyes. His bed covers were indeed thoroughly mussed up. He struggled out of the knotty mess and went to the window. The sun was bright and he had to squint. Nasty sun. Who was that in the courtyard, horse already packed, ready to leave before breaking fast? Saeryn. What is she doing up so early, and where is she going?

Then he recalled: after he had left Kath in the kitchen, he had gone to Saeryn's room, his way lit by a single candle, and knocked on her door. She had come out in the corridor and they had spoken. Their words could not be heard farther than a few yards distant, but Eodwine's face was serious and he was calm as he spoke his peace. Saeryn did not meet his eyes, but listened, her eyes steadily staring at the floor a few paces away. Finally she sighed and nodded. They bid each other a good night's sleep, and Saeryn went into her room. Eodwine had gone to bed and quickly fell into his fitful slumber.

She was going to the Queen, to live under her tutelage for the time being. Though his intention was to be as a father to her, they had finally agreed that for the time being it would be best to stay with Lothiriel. She would be at peace and free from rumors; at least those of a certain variety.

"Saeryn!" he yelled. She looked over her shoulder once, to reveal a face not altogher happy. He waved from the window. She lifted her hand in a half-hearted gesture, then quickened her actions with the horse.

Eodwine sat on his bed glumly. All in all, things had not gone very well at all in regard to Saeryn, for he felt that he had forced her away by his ill-handled warrings of wants. He considered going back to bed, but decided to get up. He did so, but in an ill-humored mood.

Celuien

12-15-2006, 11:02 AM

"Garmund. Wake up." Garstan rocked his son's shoulder, trying to stir him out of sleep. Garmund rolled in his blanket and rubbed his eyes. He opened them and seeing his father, quickly closed them again.

Garstan laughed and pulled the blanket away. "Out of bed! You wouldn't want to be late for work, would you?"

Garmund slowly sat up, swinging his legs around to the side. "Do I have to do this? I'd really rather stay and work with you." His voice was hopeful for a moment. If he could win his father's good graces again, maybe he could avoid going to shear sheep with Cnebba.

"I'm sure you would, but it's still time to be off to the sheep."

There was no way out. "What about breakfast? We have to have breakfast first."

Garstan had thought of that. "So you must. Here." He handed Garmund sweet rolls and milk. "You can eat that while you dress for the day. No time to lose! Hurry!"

Garstan left the room grinning, and as he closed the door, gave way to laughter. The boys would learn a lesson today.

Folwren

12-17-2006, 06:16 PM

Javan woke only a little bit after first light. He rolled out of bed at once and as quietly as he could contrive, he slipped into his clothes and quietly exited the room. He hurried down the dim, silent corridor, down the stairs, and long that hall, and then out the side door. He went at once to the stables, knowing that there he would probably find Léof already up and at work.

As he entered the stables, though, he nearly ran into someone who he did not expect to see. He stepped back quickly. It was Saeryn, and she was leading her own horse out. Javan said nothing, but let her pass with only a look of wonder. Then he turned and went on to find Léof. He found him at work in the recently emptied stall.

“Good morning, Léof,” Javan said, looking in. “I thought I’d be the first one up and in here visiting you and the horses.”

----

Thornen woke sometime later. He yawned and rubbed his eyes and then sighed a little as he saw his brother’s empty bed. He must have slept like a log in order to have remained asleep while Javan got up and dressed. As he washed his face and arms quickly and pulled on his shirt, he wondered absently how long Javan had been up, and what he had done with himself.

In a few minutes, Thornden made his appearance in the hall. There were a few people up already. Garstan with Garmund were just passing through. Garmund seemed to be eating his breakfast on the run, with a roll in each hand. Thornden looked after the two with curiosity. Garstan had a strange look of trapped merriment in his face, and Garmund looked grumpy, more so than a boy might usually look just roused out of bed. In a moment, they had left and Thornden was left to wonder.

Eodwine also was there. He sat alone, at the edge of the long table, eating his breakfast. Thornden went quickly to the kitchen to get a plateful, and then came back out and approached the eorl. He studied Eodwine as he approached. The man did not look altogether refreshed after his full night’s sleep, and a strangely sad expression hung about his face. Thornden placed his plate down on the table opposite him.

“Good morning, my lord,” he said. “May I join you?”

Eodwine looked up. “Of course, Thornden! Please, sit down.” Thornden did so at once. For a few moments there was silence between the two of them.

“Eodwine,” Thornden said, breaking the silence at last. “Last night I introduced my brother to you. I have been thinking, or I did last night before going to sleep, about what he should do while he is here. I was wondering if it would be at all possible for him to work with Léof in the stables? I know that he loves horses and always has. I am not certain, though, of how well he handles them or anything. But I thought…I thought that since Léof is always there, almost, Javan would have the chance to learn a lot about horses by working with them personally, but would also have someone with him to make sure that he did nothing detrimental to the horses. Would that be possible – for him to help Léof? I am not sure that Léof needs help, you understand. And I am also not certain that you had nothing else you wanted Javan to do instead. That is why I speak with you before I suggest it to either Javan or Léof.”

littlemanpoet

12-17-2006, 06:50 PM

Thornden sat quietly a few moments, busying himself with both his fodder and his thoughts. Not that Thornden ate like a horse, except perhaps in quantity. Eodwine thought to himself that he could hardly expect to have a quiet breakfast alone, sitting in the mead hall. Pah! Mere selfishness mixed with self pity. Enough of that! If Saeryn needs to go rousting about like a vagabond instead of a lady of the court who knows better, that is her business and not yours. His mind growled nonetheless.

Thornden spoke up with his typical earnestness. Eodwine forced himself to keep irritation at bay, and not wish that the young man would come to his point - it would just be more grumpy self-pity - so he listened in silence.

Javan as Léofric's helper. Eodwine barely knew the boy. Thornden's brother he was. Which meant that he was just as earnest, or just as likely the flip side of that coin. Oldest brothers had a way of being responsible, and their young brothers tended not to be. But it would not be fair to base judgement on mere likelihood.

"If Léof will have him, then Javan may work with him. He shall be answerable to Léof for all that he does in the stables, and Léof will report to both you and me in a week's time as to Javan's fittedness to be ostler's helper. Does that suit your wish?"

Firefoot

12-18-2006, 04:27 PM

“’Morning,” answered Léof. He smiled briefly over at Javan before returning to mucking the stall. “You weren’t quite the first person here – you may have seen Saeryn on her way out – but I think you could claim to be the first one out here to visit.” Although Javan had only been here at the inn for a day, Léof thought he could easily get used to having him around – he didn’t typically mind, but most of his days were rather lacking in human company.

“So how did your meeting with the Lord Eodwine go?” asked Léof. “Have you found what you will be doing at the Hall?”

Folwren

12-18-2006, 08:39 PM

“So how did your meeting with the Lord Eodwine go? Have you found out what you will be doing at the Hall?”

“No, I haven’t,” Javan answered, leaning slightly to rest his shoulder against the stall door. “I guess the meeting went well. As well as can be expected. He asked me what I wanted to do, and I told him.” Léof nodded but said nothing as he continued to fill the wheelbarrow beside him. “I liked him,” Javan said after a short pause. “He seemed nice.” He smiled a little as he recalled the conversation from the evening before. “He asked me what I would like to do and then when I had told him, he said he would consider it and this morning I am to learn what he decides for me. I’m so excited, Léof,” he went on eagerly, standing up straight again. “Do you suppose he’ll let me help you? I told him I’d love to work with the horses, and I really would like that above anything else, I think.” Javan really had little idea what other options there were, but he cared very little. “I wanted to come out right away and talk to you and visit the horses. If I can’t help you, perhaps there would still be extra time so I could ride some. I suppose you do exercise them? Occasionally?”

---

Thornden, inside the hall, was only now just receiving his answer from Eodwine.

"If Léof will have him, then Javan may work with him. He shall be answerable to Léof for all that he does in the stables, and Léof will report to both you and me in a week's time as to Javan's fittedness to be ostler's helper. Does that suit your wish?"

Thornden smiled, happy that Eodwine had been so willing. He had half expected for Eodwine having had some other idea for Javan's occupation. It would have been just fine, of course, if he had, but Javan would be happy to have a chance to work with the horses. Whether he would remain working in the stables would depend entirely on his ability and his behavior with the horses. Léof would be a good judge of that, too.

"Yes, my lord, thank you. It suits perfectly."

Lhunardawen

12-19-2006, 05:27 AM

From afar, Ginna caught a glimpse of the Eorling Mead Hall in the first timid rays of the rising sun. She had never been to the place, indeed this was the farthest she had been from home since she could remember, but she had heard a few stories from when it was yet the White Horse Inn. Despite the change, she imagined that it would remain warm and inviting even from a distance, attracting weary travellers, runaways, or people eager to render their services. But now that she was seeing it with her own eyes, she felt as though she was riding towards a certain, dreadful doom. As the Mead Hall loomed closer in view, she hung back, and gazed wistfully about her, unwilling to let go of her ties to the world she had known.

She caught sight of a pretty yellow butterfly flitting this way and that, flapping its wings enticingly. She begrudged its freedom to go where it would; and when it grew weary and thirsty from its unhindered flight, always a flower would be willing to give it welcome. What I would not give to grow wings and fly away, she thought.

“Hurry up, Ginna!”

Scowling, Ginna urged her steed on with a whispered command and a light kick to his side. Her father had stopped to wait ahead of her.

“I could have made the journey alone. I know the way,” she said defensively. Randvér said nothing, and simply turned back to the road when she had caught up with him.

“Father, I am twenty-three years of age!”

“And yet you still act like a child: gullible and undiscerning,” came Randvér’s reply, his voice level and emotionless, as though he was stating a well-established fact. “No, you are worse, for a child knows not to speak to strangers.”

Ginna noticed that the butterfly had followed her, and she was glad of the distraction; turning to it, she hid the sad smile that had formed on her lips. Gossip ran rampant where there were people and events, and could reach even the most imperceptive ears. She cared not how her father had heard the tale, though she felt relieved that he had received a distorted version of it. Just how greatly he had misjudged her, she was not going to let him know.

“I cannot be fully blamed, Father,” she replied, her voice a show of repentance. “I have had none to keep me company since Mother—”

She could not bring herself to say the word; even after all those years, the wounds left by her mother's passing still stung. Fair Ayessa had been inflicted with a fatal strain of a disease, which first claimed her vitality, then her beauty, then her life. When shortly afterwards the War of the Ring had called Randvér to duty, Ginna had been left alone to contend with her grief, and her fear for her own life. Since then she had not seen as much of her father as she used to, yet she knew that he was still grieving—so much that he seemed to have forgotten that he was not alone in it. She felt it strongly now, as silence fell heavily between them.

“Is this really necessary?” she eventually whispered, almost to herself. Randvér looked away pointedly.

“My old friend Eodwine is a good man. He will keep a keen eye on you.”

“I have learned well from you, Father; I do not need guarding.”

“I do not know why, but somehow it is not what might befall you that worries me, Ginna, but what you might do.”

Ginna peered at her father from the corner of her eyes. She recognised the look of disappointment in his, and could discern what thoughts caused it. He had believed that he and her wife had raised their daughter well, and still could not fathom it: how could her beauty, which surpasses that of her mother, and at which they had always taken pride…how could it have been such a source of disgrace? For Ginna knew her beauty, and knew how to wield it to her own gain, if what she wanted—what she needed—could not be given her.

“I will not be a burden to anyone,” she said resolutely, concealing the bitterness that she felt. Had she not averted her eyes to face the Mead Hall defiantly, she would have seen the hope that replaced the disappointment, and the faint gleam of loving pride appearing out of nowhere into her father's eyes; but they vanished just as quickly as they came, and all Ginna knew of his response was a curt “See that you won’t.”

~*~

If anyone was already awake in the Mead Hall, they certainly had not let it known to those who might be outside. Ginna and Randvér entered quietly, so as not to disturb anyone. As she walked behind her father, Ginna felt that she would burn with shame if someone caught her, a grown lady, accompanied by him. Let them think that he’s leaving a child to their care. And let him arrange the conditions that will allow my stay here. She quietly stole away and wandered around to familiarise herself with her new home.

After a while she felt lost, overwhelmed by the immensity of the place compared to the home in which she had grown up. She knew not where she was, and desired to have someone to let her know, perhaps even give her a tour. So busy she was with her own thoughts that she overlooked the little girl who was then looking curiously at her.

Celuien

12-19-2006, 03:39 PM

Lèoðern had risen early in the morning, stirred out of dreams by her brother as he grumpily stomped around the room. Garmund had disappeared quickly, along with their father. She had gone to find Cnebba, hoping to go out early and play before her lessons started, but he too was gone. Left alone, she had hurried outside and sat near the stables to play with the kittens before breakfast.

Her attention was soon drawn by the arrival of a young lady. Much like her missed friend Linduial she seemed in bearing. A princess, thought Lèoðern, and she scampered to her feet and brushed the dust of the inn yard off her dress.

The lady seemed not to notice her. And so Lèoðern gave her a bright "Good morning!" Then, remembering a lesson in manners given by Linduial, added a curtsey and said, "My lady."

Firefoot

12-19-2006, 08:23 PM

“Not as often as I should like,” answered Léof. “But if you ever have free time, I’m sure I could put you to work.” He set down the pitchfork and grinned at Javan. “Would you mind rolling that wheel barrow out back? You can’t miss the manure pile. I’m going to get some fresh hay from the loft and then we can go have some breakfast.”

“Alright,” said Javan agreeably. The two parted ways and within a short time the stall was freshly bedded and the pair was heading into the Hall. They had barely sat down with their hot plates of food when Léof saw that Thornden was approaching.

“Good morning, Thornden,” Léof said.

Thornden sat down across the table from them, answering, “Good morning. Léof, I’d like to ask you a question.”

Léof raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “I’m listening.”

“My brother here, Javan, has probably already told you how much he loves horses and would like to work with them. I have just finished speaking with Eodwine and he has given me permission to ask you if you would take Javan and let him work under you and your supervision for a week. At the end of that time, you will tell Eodwine and me how Javan did and if he is able to continue working in the stables, and also if you want him there to help you. Right now, you have the choice to say yes or no to this request. If you do not want his help and presence, or do not need it, then tell me so."

Léof nodded slowly. “I think that should work fine. From what I have seen, Javan will be perfect for the job.” A short glance over at Javan showed that he was thrilled, and Léof felt quite pleased himself. Besides having a friend, he could see several other potential advantages. How much better would it have worked if he had had an assistant when Gárwine’s horse trampled his foot? Not, of course, that he ever intended on that happening again. And… well, he was still concerned about his sister – if he ever needed to request a couple days to ride out there, he would be able to leave the stable in capable hands.

“That’s settled, then,” said Thornden, seeming satisfied.

Léof caught sight of two people who had arrived. “And it looks like we may already have a couple of horses to tend to. Eat fast, Javan, and get used to being interrupted.”

Lhunardawen

12-20-2006, 01:59 AM

Ginna jumped in surprise, and spun towards the voice. What she saw made her want to laugh out loud: not only had a little girl called her "my lady," but she also curtsied! Ginna tried to suppress the urge but failed right away; and at the sound of her laughter the girl flinched slightly and looked a little offended. This effectively put an end to Ginna's mirth.

She slowly walked towards the girl and knelt before her, carefully gathering her skirts about herself. The girl stood up straight and looked her unblinkingly in the eye. Ginna immediately felt herself bound to the girl, as though she was the little sister that she never had.

"Are you allowed to speak to strangers?" Ginna asked. "Never mind," she quickly added. "My name is Ginna; now I'm no longer a stranger. What's yours?"

"Lèoðern, my lady."

Ginna reduced her amusement to a smile. "Why do you address me so?"

"Are- are you not a princess? Because you look like one."

Ginna's smile widened and she shook her head. "No, no, Lèoðern, I'm not a princess. Far from it. But I'm flattered you think so."

Lèoðern had shyly bowed her head when she realised her mistake, but seeing that all was well, she broke into a fit of giggles. Ginna could not help joining along; after all, it really was funny. If she knew her father at all, she would be forced to earn her place here as a serving wench – not that she would mind.

"I assume you know this place well," she finally said when she had breath enough. "Would you mind taking me around?"

littlemanpoet

12-20-2006, 07:47 PM

Thornden took his leave upon finishing his breakfast. Eodwine congratulated himself on not being overly curt with the lad. Lad!? He was a grown man, for all his earnestness.

Falco sauntered up with Lefun and Ritun in tow, and took a seat next to Eodwine. Lefun and Ritun sat across from them, their double torsos taking up twice the chair space.

"I bid you good morning," Eodwine said to both of them. He looked to Falco. "Have you stayed out of trouble so far today?"

"Now whatever do you mean by that? I'm no trouble maker!"

"I think others might disagree."

"What, about Garmund? Aye, they might, and if they do they make more of it than they ought to. Where is the boy?" Falco looked around the room as if expecting to see the boy pop up from beneath a table.

"He has been set to sheep sheering across the road, he and Cnebba."

"What ever for? They're just boys! They should be allowed to play! In the Shire-"

"Well I know how you hobbits treat your young ones. With the Eorlingas it is different."

"More's the pity," Falco murmured. Lefun and Ritun were looking at the two of them with an expression of mixed humor and mild astonishment. "What is the matter, Rilef?"

"Speak you much before you eat!" said Lefun. Both of them grinned.

"And you speak as little as ever!" Falco retorted. "I'll change that!"

Just then a man walked across the Hall and stopped at the head of the table. They looked up. He was staring at Lefun and Ritun, his fingers standing at attention on the edge of the table. Eodwine's eyes went wide and he rose.

"Randvér! 'Tis good to see you!" He pushed his chair away and went over to his friend and gave him a bear hug.

"Well met, my friend and lord!"

"Ah but do not you be calling me lord unless we're sitting acourt! I got your letter! Where is your daughter Ginna? Did you bring her?"

"Aye, she is out by the stables, having failed to follow me inside." The man was mildly put out apparently. An embarrassed silence loomed after the man's confession.

"Well! Allow me to introduce my friends!" Eodwine made introductions to the garrelous and tongue tripping Falco, and to the tongue-tied Lefun and Ritun, their nervousness showing profoundly, which did not help Randvér's nervousness at all. Eodwine distracted them. "I would meet your daughter. Let us go to her, and afterward you and she can eat with us."

Randvér agreed and the two went outside where they found Ginna and Léoðern giggling and talking, walking hand in hand, about to round the corner toward the back.

"Ginna!" her father called.

Lhunardawen

12-22-2006, 01:51 AM

Lèoðern had jovially taken Ginna's hand and helped her to her feet, and was leading her away excitedly when they heard a man's voice. Ginna took a moment to acknowledge it as her eyes rolled in mild annoyance, but Lèoðern rounded instinctively at the call, forcing Ginna to face her father. Another man came with him. It must be the Lord Eodwine. She obviously could not let him wait.

"Later perhaps?" she asked Lèoðern as she made to walk towards the two men, and tried to extract her hand from the little girl's. Lèoðern's grip was surprisingly firm for a child her age.

"May I come with you? Maybe you can join us for breakfast!" Without waiting for a response Lèoðern tugged at Ginna. The lady followed the young girl helplessly, more being dragged than walking, and reached Randvér and Eodwine sooner than she would have liked.

"Good morning, my lord," she said, bowing slightly, which earned a gentle giggle from Lèoðern. Ginna was eager to leave a favourable impression, for her father's sake as well as hers; though she felt a certain awkwardness in Eodwine's presence. What does he know about me?

littlemanpoet

12-22-2006, 09:08 AM

"You called him my lord!" cried Léoðern accusingly to Ginna. "Then I can call you my lady!" The little girl grinned.

"But he is a lord!" Ginna said.

"No he's not! He's just Eorl Eodwine!"

Eodwine laughed. "And your most humble servant, Léoðern. May we take the lady Ginna from you? You see, she is going to stay here and work for me."

"You're going to stay here?!" The little girl's grin widened and her face brightened.

"Yes, she is," Eodwine answered for Ginna. "May we take her?" He looked up. "Ah, there's your father now, and I'd say that he seems to be looking for you."

Garstan was indeed coming back from across the main road where he had just deposited his son Garmund for sheep sheering.

Formendacil

12-22-2006, 10:33 PM

Náin was late for breakfast. Well, he was not quite late, exactly. It would be more accurate to say that he was later. Later than usual. But with Náin this was something of note. The Dwarf was as regular in his routine as the mechanical clocks his kinsmen made in Dale, as predictable as Arien's daily course across the heavens.

When Náin did appear for breakfast, most of the Mead Hall's denizens were half done, or finishing, their meals. Enough had finished eating that he found himself able to sit alone-- something else he rarely did-- and relatively ignored. The various newcomers to the Hall; Rítun and Lefun, Javan, and now Randvér and his daughter; all attracted more interest than the daily Dwarf, which was fine with him.

Náin did not know what to make of himself this morning. He had taken especial pains with his appearance before coming down to breakfast; indeed, such had been the reason for his tardiness. He had combed his beard for twice as long as usual, and had even trimmed some of the stray whiskers. A dwarf's beard should be long, but neat. It is better to grow it slowly, evenly, than to let it run wild like a bed of weeds.

He was wearing a completely fresh set of clothes, from his hooded cloak to his leather shoes. His face and hands were scrubbed clean and even his normally darkened callouses shone.

And he was jumpy, nervous. His stomach felt light and fluttery, but rather than wanting to settle it down with Frodides fine fare, his appetite was slim and he sat at his table nibbling absently at an unadorned slice of bread.

It was not natural, Náin tried telling himself, for the hundredth time. He was simply going to see the local sights today. He was still telling himself that when Kara tapped him on the shoulder half an hour later, startling him into sloshing his mug of tepid water over both himself and her.

Taralphiel

12-23-2006, 01:27 AM

Lys fumbled with his tunic, inwardly cross at himself for sleeping for far too long. He supposed it was from all the walking he had done the day before, as he had slept from the moment his head met his pillow. Now toiling with his shoes, Lys wondered if Thornden would be finished with his breakfast. 'More likely than not...' Lys thought to himself with a sigh.

His hurry was more frustrated by his bad ankle. Trying to walk faster only made his right ankle drag more conspicuously. He slowed and gave a shrug, hoping he would not stand out too much when he came to eat. He also hoped no one would treat him poorly for his tardiness.

The young boy found a few people left at the Hall, but could not see Thornden. Grumbling a little, he took his breakfast and went to an empty seat. The portions were more than sufficient, and this brightened his mood a little. As Lys chewed on a corner of dark, hard bread he looked around at all the others seated...

Kath

12-23-2006, 04:26 AM

Kara jumped backwards as the water leapt from the mug but the realisation of what was happening had come too late, and she found herself watching as half of it moved in a graceful arc to land directly on her apron, while a few splashes made their way to her face and arms.

Náin rose, horrified, still clutching his now empty mug in his hands, and began an apology with a level of stuttering and stumbling that Kara hadn't heard from him in weeks.

"K-K-Kara, m-my, I'm sorry! It was ... you must ... I ..."

Whisking the apron off and using the few remaining patches that weren't soaked through to dry the rest of her, Kara waved his apology off with a smile. It had been partly her fault anyway, she had noticed that the Dwarf seemed to be distracted this morning but hadn't thought to use caution because of it. Noticing that the water had managed to cover most of Náin as well she handed him the cloth from over her shoulder and motioned for him to use it.

"It's quite alright." She said, as Náin showed no signs of halting his bumbling apology. "Look, most of it landed on the apron anyway and I'm not going to wear that outside. I'll hang this out before we leave and it'll be dry as a bone by the time we get back. In fact I just came to say that I was going to get my things and then we can go. Are you ready or do you need to wait til you dry off a bit?"

She waited patiently for an answer, holding the apron to the side as it continued to drip water on to the floor.

Folwren

12-23-2006, 10:05 AM

Javan thought he could hardly believe his senses when he heard Thornden ask Léof if Javan could help him. He did not speak a word during their short discussion, for fear that he might somehow make Léof say no, or Thornden change his mind. But when Léof had said that he would be willing to try Javan out, and Thornden had thanked him, Javan still found he couldn’t speak.

Léof turned from Thornden almost at once. “And it looks like we may already have a couple of horses to tend to. Eat fast, Javan, and get used to being interrupted.”

Javan didn’t need to be told twice. He was so excited that no one could have kept him at the table longer than two minutes, anyway. He ate his food so quick that Thornden almost took the place of his mother in telling him to slow down or he’d choke. But Thornden stopped the words and instead of telling Javan to slow down, he stood up and went out of the hall, chuckling at his little brother’s excitement.

When Javan had finished a little more than half of this plateful, he leaped up to his feet. “I’m ready,” he said. Léof glanced at him and then at the food on Javan’s plate, but he said nothing and merely shrugged. He stood up, still holding his plate, and while they took the dishes back to the kitchen, he scraped up the last of his eggs, and before putting the plate on the counter, took the remaining bit of his bread.

“Come on,” he said with a nod to Javan, and they turned and went back out.

Outside the stables, with the reins looped quickly through the rings, stood two tall and finely bred horses. Léof took the reins of one and led him in through the stable door. Javan quickly went to the second and took its reins and followed Léof.

Formendacil

12-23-2006, 12:21 PM

"Are you ready or do you need to wait til you dry off a bit?"

Náin could not, in honesty, say that he was ready. However, that was not the fault of the water, nor was it likely to be remedied by waiting longer. In fact, to judge by the condition of his stomach, he was unlikely to get readier by waiting.

"N-n-no, fine is drying-- I mean, drying isn't fine. I mean that I'm fine drying going on. On the go." Curses! A fine way to start the day. All his weeks at the Mead Hall, getting accustomed to being around human women had just been thrown out the window. He was jumpier than that first day through the Hall's doors-- and he was going to be spending all day with Kara. At this rate, he would consider himself lucky to show his face near the kitchen again.

But a Dwarf does not change his plans without grave reason, and the iron discipline of the Longbeards took over. Náin was going to get through this out, come dragons or drownings, even if it meant the end of his sanity.

"I'll grab my things then, and see you at the doors," Kara gave him a smile and flitted away in that discomfittingly light manner that all humans seemed capable of. They lacked a sense of grounding in the earth, Náin thought, and wondered if that might be connected to the lack of grounding in his stomach somehow.

As he trudged towards the main doors, not even willing to try and eat anymore, he did not notice in his preoccupation that he was trudging more heavily than even the norm for a Dwarf, fluttering stomach or no.

Celuien

12-24-2006, 09:54 AM

A merry grin still showed on Garstan's face when he came back to the hall. Garmund had been left with the sheep to wait for Cnebba's arrival, and Ordulf quietly told of the plans for forcing the two boys from the Mead Hall to settle their differences by working together. The boys were to be kept away from shears and instead given the job of holding the sheep still while Ordulf cut away their wool.

Léoðern would be next. As early as it was, Garstan was sure that she would already be up and about to find a playmate for the morning. He was not suprised to find her in the company of Eodwine and two strangers.

Before Garstan could say a word, Léoðern said, "Good morning! This is Ginna, and she's going to stay here."

A few words of introduction and greeting quickly passed. Then Garstan took Léoðern's hand and said, "Come along. It's time to go for your lessons."

"Lessons?" Eodwine asked.

"Yes. Lady Linduial gave word for Marenil to teach Léoðern out of a lesson book she sent." His smile broadened and he chuckled. "I expect the lessons will take much of the day. It was good to have met you, Randvér. Ginna."

Garstan led Léoðern away, still on the edge of laughter over his and Stigend's plans.

Firefoot

12-24-2006, 02:20 PM

Léof led the horse into the stable and tied him in the aisle. He turned to Javan and noticed that he had followed suit. “Do you remember where the brushes are?” asked Léof.

Javan nodded once. “Down towards the end in a room on the right.”

“Right. Go ahead and get those, and I’m going to find out how long these horses are staying.”

Léof turned and left the stable. He spotted the new arrivals across the yard and standing with Eodwine, Garstan, and Léoðern, though the latter two left as he approached. He smiled affably but hesitated at first, unsure of whether to address himself to Eodwine or the newcomers. He decided on the newcomers.

“Good morning to you. I am Léofric, the ostler here. Will you be needing stabling for your horses?”

Kath

12-24-2006, 07:44 PM

Taking pity on the obviously flustered Dwarf Kara returned to the kitchen, hoping that Náin would recover the ease he had learnt with her over the weeks if she left him alone a short while. She had no idea why he was so befuddled this morning, he didn't appear to be overly tired or have had bad news of any kind.

As she hung up her apron, still musing on the mystery, she didn't fail to notice the curious glance sent her way by Frodides as the old cook took in the state of the garment. Kara met the gaze evenly, well aware that if Frodides didn't question her now she certainly would later.

"And what happened to you, girl? Give a guest too little for breakfast this morning? Or did the well dislike you taking water from it?"

The words were followed by laughter, as though she didn't much care what the answer was, but Kara had worked with her long enough now to know that she was very curious.

"It was an accident. I made one of the guests jump." She replied, not wanting to name Náin as the culprit in case Frodides confronted him about it.

"Oh? Shouldn't go sneaking up on those as aren't concentrating, or those concentrating too hard. Not everyone is as ready for the day as you or I when they wake up."

The piercing look still being given to her by Frodides gave Kara warning that this explanation did not suffice, and a longer and more detailed one would be demanded upon her return. But it seemed that the woman was willing to leave it be for now, knowing Kara had somewhere to be.

"Now, girl, I'll let you go in just a moment but first, had you thought as to what you were going to do for lunch?"

Kara had to admit that she hadn't. She'd heard of the iron stomachs of Dwarves and their ability to go without food for sometime, and had hoped that a big breakfast (for she had made sure Náin had received plenty of food that morning) and a large dinner would do for them both. It seemed though that Frodides didn't agree.

"Well you can't go missing meals, nor depriving guests of theirs. Take this."

She held up a small basket and placed it on the table in front of Kara. Opening it, she found rolls of bread, slices of meat and cheese and even small sweets.

"You'll have to manage your own water but this should see you through. Get that nice young Dwarf to carry it for you if you find it heavy, though a strong girl like you shouldn't have a problem."

"Thank you!" Kara was touched by the gesture and hugged Frodides in gratitude. The woman made a show of pushing her away and berating her for childish acts, but the twinkle in her eye and the smile she just couldn't keep off her face showed her pleasure.

Grabbing cloak and basket Kara hurried back out to Náin who was now standing by the door. She saw with dismay that his shoulders were slumped and his head down toward the floor. She wondered if perhaps he had changed his mind and did not wish to go, but as she neared he straightened up and by the time she reached him he appeared ready and willing to leave.

Noticing the basket she carried he held out a hand to take it, manners overtaking shyness for a moment. She handed it over without protest, not wanting him to mistake a refusal for a rejection when he seemed so sensitive this morning already.

They set off at a brisk pace, having decided to go into town first as Náin had not yet seen that, and it was the best place to start from as a circular route past many of the things Kara wanted to show him would lead them back to the Hall at last. As she had hoped the Dwarf did seem to be calmer than he had been before and was able to speak far more clearly, though not often. So far the journey had been conducted in relative silence. She just hoped he would find his voice again soon.

Lhunardawen

12-27-2006, 03:40 AM

Ginna's eyes remained fixed on Lèoðern, and so did the smile on her lips, as Garstan led his daughter away. She did not notice that beside her, Eodwine had been regarding her as well.

"Have you taken a liking to her?" he asked.

"Why, yes indeed, my lord," she responded, turning to face him. She looked at her father and saw in his expression that he was...cautioning her. Ginna ignored him. What harm did he think would come of it?

"I look forward to getting to know her more," she continued, "as well as the rest of those who are in this household. But may I first know what arrangement you and my father have come to?"

Before Eodwine could respond, a young man approached and addressed the two newcomers.

"Good morning to you. I am Léofric, the ostler here. Will you be needing stabling for your horses?"

Ginna smiled at him, but said nothing, letting her father answer. Surely for hers, but she did not know if he intended to stay long. Eager as she was to get started, she hoped that he would leave soon.

littlemanpoet

12-27-2006, 08:45 AM

"Good morning Léof!" said Eodwine brightly, forgetting his troubles for the moment in the face of the immediate business to hand. "This is Randvér, and old friend of mine from the war, and his daughter Ginna. He holds lands a good day's ride north from here, and it would seem that by sheer accident I am his Eorl. Ginna will be staying at the Mead Hall for some while, so find room in the stables for a longer stay for her mount. Randvér, I am sorry to say, will be leaving us this day, so freshen his horse for the return trip."

"Aye, lord!"

"My thanks, Léof."

Léof regarded Ginna. "Welcome to the Eorling Mead Hall, Ginna." She gave him her thanks, and Léof led the two horses away.

Eodwine turned to Ginna. "As to your question, we have not settled on what you will do."

"I would have her begin amongst the humblest serving maids, lord," said Randvér, "for she is wild and willful and needs taming." Eodwine raised a brow in surprise. Randvér blushed and coughed into his hand. "I did not wish to say such embarrassments before the others in the Hall, my friend, but 'tis true." He glared at his daughter. "Is it not?"

Ginna refused to speak, but turned her face away from him and crossed her arms. Randvér turned back to Eodwine with a sigh. "You see how it is with her."

Eodwine did see, but he thought he saw more than Ginna's father did. The ire lay on both sides and wrongs would have to be admitted on both sides one day, but today was many days too early for such words. He liked the girl's spirit, and truth be told, saw that it told true that she was his daughter.

"Lowest of the low in my hall? I would not have her wilt, scrubbing floors all the day and cleaning out the latrine otherwise. That would not do, Randvér. She shall be a serving wench under the watchful eye of Frodides, my cook, and Kara, her apprentice. To those two she will be obedient, and to me, of course. What say you to that, Randvér?"

"I think, my friend, that you are a kindly lord, and I hope that you do not regret your lightness of hand, as I have too many times over the years."

"Father!" Ginna protested.

"Peace, Ginna!" Eodwine smiled. "I will be your lord and not your father, so I expect the obedience due a lord and head of the Hall, and not the submission due a father. Will you obey me, and Frodides and Kara?"

Ginna paused only briefly before giving her assent. Randvér shook his head that she had paused at all, but Eodwine smiled that she had indeed given thought, and assented so quickly.

"Good! Now let us three go in and break our fast!"

Formendacil

12-29-2006, 10:11 PM

Náin and Kara had walked out the Mead Hall, down three or four streets, and into the tradesmen's shops part of Edoras without saying a single word. This struck Náin like a bolt of lightning just as they were coming up towards the first of the shops, the tanner's. They could smell it long before they saw it.

What an idiot he was! Here he was trying to keep from stumbling over his own words, and to keep his flutterly gullet as stony and Dwarven as possible, and all he was really succeeding in doing was nearly ignoring her. Companionable silence was normal among Dwarves, but Náin had noted that Men, and particularly their womenfolk, could often be uncomfortable at long periods of silence. Fool! Bad enough one of them felt distinctly uncomfortable, no need for Kara to join him. Now, if only he actually had something intelligent to say...

"It looks like we might be in danger of showers sometime ere nightfall."

Unfortunately for Náin, he only managed to find those words just as Kara started to ask him a question.

"Is leatherwork a common craft among Dwarves?"

Kara and Náin glanced at each other, Kara looking a little amused, Náin looking mortified.

"S-s-sorry!" he stuttered, turning as red as his beard. Kara laughed.

"No, it's my fault. What were you saying?"

Náin spluttered, completely unable to remember. "N-n-nothing. Please-- go on!"

"I was asking about leatherwork among Dwarves," she continued, determined to squeeze a decent conversation out of the flustered Dwarf. "I've noticed that you have some finely crafted pieces among your effects, and I was wondering if it's a common craft among Dwarves? Or is your kinship to the King evident in it?"

Náin breathed a sigh of relief. Craftsmanship! Here was a topic he could expound on, hopefully without embarrassment.

"Nay," he said, "it is a common trade among Dwarves, though not so highly esteemed as stonework or metalwork. I learned much of the trade ere I came of age, and ere I selected stonework as my trade."

Náin rambled on a good deal more than he needed to have done, but after the unnoticed silence of the walk from the Mead Hall, he was unwittingly swinging in the other direction, becoming overly gregarious.

JennyHallu

12-30-2006, 05:44 AM

Marenil arose early, as was his custom, puttering about his cozy little room. A few moments' searching awarded him with three small slates and pencils, wrapped in muslin, that he'd bought the day before at the market place.

Now only to find little Leodern, and then the boys this afternoon.

Marenil looked on the prospects of the coming day with a sigh. A quiet man, he had grown used to living on the edge of the bustling, chaotic life at the Inn. Most of his days were spent on the bench in the kitchen garden, reminiscing with Frodides, whose practical nature and similar years made her a comfortable companion to the old man. He wondered if young Kara, constantly running back and forth through the garden pursuing her own duties, even noticed his presence there, so unobtrusive was he.

Now he would have three rambunctious children in his charge all day long. Not that he minded, he was more than a little fond of young creatures. Small children did not see his years, did not make allowances for the pain of his joints and the slowness of age, they simply saw him: a grown man who would listen to them in seriousness and respect. They would grip his arms and drag him along to see some wonder or another; examining a butterfly or beetle or tree or flower with the awe reserved for the very young. With children Marenil himself felt young.

But the reserved near-silence of this retirement was certainly at an end.

He sighed and put on the knitted house-slippers Frodides had given him a few weeks back, venturing out into the hall. Where might a young thing like Leodern hide herself this early in the morning? A delicate aroma wafted through the hall and Marenil smiled as he followed it. Breakfast, of course. The girl would be at breakfast.

The hall was filled, chaotic, and noisy when he arrived, and it only took a moment to see who wasn't there to see why. Kara was nowhere to be seen. A likely lass, the young cook, and Marenil missed her sensible presence as he descended the stairs and into the fray. Looking for the source of the warm rolls that seemed to be making their way through the room, he wasn't carefully watching where he was going.

Next thing he knew he rammed decidely into the side of--

"Oh, my pardon, lord," he said from his new place seated on the floor. "Lovely morning, is it not? So quiet and peaceful." He chuckled to himself as Eodwine extended a hand to help him up. "So relaxing to retire to the country...Have you seen Leodern? She needs a few inches yet before she can be easily found."

littlemanpoet

12-30-2006, 07:50 AM

"Pardon?" Eodwine cried as he gave Marenil a hand up. "Pardon me for not looking where I was going! As for Léoðern (Eodwine noticed, with an inner pleasure at such things, how Marenil's southern Gondorian dialect left off the Eorlinga accents in the girl's name), Garstan had just taken her in hand to bring her to you. It seems she has already made friends of our newest serving wench. Allow me to introduce her!"

Eodwine proceeded to introduce Ginna and Randvér (an old friend from the war) to Marenil, and could tell from the relaxed manner of Randvér that he had taken an immediate liking to Marenil, which was good, considering that which he had to share with the elderly man.

After a momentary pause in the small talk, Eodwine directed them all to a table so that Marenil, Randvér, and Ginna could break their fast. "Where is Kara?"

"I do believe she is not to be found this morning, lord," said Marenil.

"Ah well. I shall go see Frodides a moment." Eodwine stopped and thought a moment about how the kitchen was short handed this morning, and made an instant decision. "Ginna, you shall start your duties now. Come, I'll introduce you to Frodides." Ginna, startled, stood up and followed him into the kitchen. "You shall start by bringing food and drink for Marenil and your father, and a little more for me as well. After you have done that, you shall eat in the kitchen, as is common for serving wenches."

They passed into the kitchen. Frodides was busy over a sink full of steaming hot water, washing earthenware dishes. The smell of baking bread wafted through the air.

"Frodides! You have help! Allow me to introduce Ginna daughter of Randvér, eorldorman from the north of the Middle Emnet."

Folwren

12-30-2006, 06:49 PM

Javan was left alone with the two horses. He did not mind working by himself. He didn’t generally like to work by himself (he always had the feeling that everyone else was sitting around doing nothing whenever he had a job off on his own), but now he had two horses to groom. He set to work loosening the cinches and taking off the saddles. The horses stood quietly, their heads lowered to a comfortable, relaxed position, their noses touching the walls. One stood with his hind leg bent, and his hoof pointing towards the ground.

Javan hauled first one heavy saddle to the tack room and then the other. He returned for yet a third trip to gather the blankets and other trappings. When he came back, he picked up one of the brushes that he had fetched earlier and set to work on the nearest horse.

He had hardly brushed the horse’s neck when a call from the doorway stopped him. He looked up and saw Léof trotting towards him. The ostler slowed to a walk before coming too near the horses.

“Stop, Javan,” he said, placing his hand on the nearest horse’s hindquarters. “Just untie him. We can’t brush them down until the sweat has dried. Come on.”

Javan wanted to ask why, but Léof had already turned to untie his horse. Javan followed suit and together they led the horses out into the yard to walk back and forth.

“Why do we have to do this?” Javan asked, ducking under his horse’s neck so that he could walk beside Léof.

“It’s useless to groom a horse that is wet and sweaty. The dirt doesn’t come out – it turns to mud – and the brush pushes it back into his skin and hair. But if we wait until it’s dry, the dirt will have come to the top of his coat and we can just brush him off. Javan,” he said, seriously, “don’t walk under a horse’s neck when he’s walking. You might get trampled on.”

“Sorry,” Javan said. “So it’s easier if we just wait till they’re dry? Are you sure? It’ll take ages to walk them until they’re not wet anymore! Can’t we just stick ‘em in stalls and brush them later? They’ll dry on their own, won’t they?”

Firefoot

12-31-2006, 01:52 PM

“Well, yes,” said Léof, “and you could do that if drying them off was the only goal. But horses also have to be cooled down after exercise – especially strenuous exercise, like traveling. It’s like warming a horse up before exercise – you can’t push them straight into a gallop, you have to warm them up. This is just the opposite.”

He glanced over at Javan to see if he had any more questions. He appeared to be thinking this new information over. Quite honestly, Léof was surprised at all the questions; Javan had seemed more familiar with a stable than he was now proving. Still, if Javan was willing to learn, Léof didn’t mind teaching him. He would just have to keep a closer eye on Javan than he had first assumed – at least for these first several days, until he felt comfortable that Javan knew what he was doing and would not be a danger to himself or the horses.

“Also,” Léof added, “cooling them down like this lets you watch for any limping, to make sure the horses didn’t injure themselves while they were being ridden.”

“So how long do we have to do this? Just until they’re dry?”

“Pretty much. You can also check their legs and right here under their necks to make sure they’re cool. It doesn't take that long, really.”

Kath

01-01-2007, 12:52 PM

The unintended cross-talk had Náin spluttering again and trying to keep from talking for fear of embarrassment, but the silence had been slowly needling at Kara until she was desperate for conversation and she wasn't about to let him withdraw again. Thankfully she had managed to find a topic the Dwarf was obviously immensely interested in as he informed her about it during their entire walk around the town.

The conversation had begun with leatherwork, but each stall they passed had Náin expounding on the virtues, faults and difficulties of dealing with whatever material lay upon it. Kara had soon learnt more about craftsmanship in an hour than she thought she'd ever need in a lifetime, and it didn't seem as though Náin planned to stop. She wondered at the difference between his uncomfortable silence earlier and this sudden outpouring of words, and though she was pleased at the change she only wished there were some middle ground.

Eventually, as they left the town and Náin began to tell her how the paths they were walking on had been made, Kara felt that it was time for a change of subject. She was well aware that the path they were now on had been laid by Gondorians for they were heading out to the ruins that civilisation had left behind. The history behind that was something she was greatly interested in and hoped that Náin knew as much about it as he did about stonework for she was more than willing to learn about it. For now though she wanted merely to talk.

"Of course the skill of those who made it can barely be seen now since so many people have walked all over it."

Having been listening to Náin still with one ear Kara noted the natural stopping point in his speech and jumped in before he could continue.

"Well that is a shame, but I suppose that is the way with the world. Old things must go for new ones to arrive. Just like at the Hall. It seems that Eodwine changed a lot of things when he took the place over, both inside and out"

Náin nodded slowly, unsure where Kara was heading with this, but tried to join in anyway.

"Indeed. The new building work is extensive, and it is fortunate that those with the necessary skills are staying with us."

Silently Kara cheered. A good gossip about the Hall and it's residents was perfect for occupying them on the walk.

"Do you know many of the others well? I haven't taken the opportunity to really talk to a lot of them yet though being in the kitchen I do hear what goes on. I suppose I ought to make more of an effort but there has been so much going on recently! The only ones I really see are the children who love to tell Frodides of their day, and they are very sweet, especially little Leodern - have you seen much of them?"

Formendacil

01-05-2007, 11:15 PM

"Indeed. The new building work is extensive, and it is fortunate that those with the necessary skills are staying with us," said Náin slowly.

As his mouth slowed down, and his mind began to think rather than just spew forth on the craftsmanship around him, Náin found that he had calmed down during the comfortable discourse on the skills of the Rohirric artisans, and that he was able to assess the conversation without getting too nervous.

He had been boring Kara. A lot. He began to mentally fidget again.

At least, Kara had heard enough about craftsmanship. Náin began to get agitated again, concerned that he was ruining Kara's day off. It was all very well for him to spend the day in agitated agony, but he was a Dwarf of aristocratic lineage and his own master. Kara's days off were less regular, and she was nobly spending this one in his company. It was a trait, he noted in one of the calmer parts of his mind, that was more typical of Men than of Dwarves. It was the trait of generosity.

But Kara did not seem to have wanted him to stop speaking entirely, for she went on.

"Do you know many of the others well? I haven't taken the opportunity to really talk to a lot of them yet though being in the kitchen I do hear what goes on. I suppose I ought to make more of an effort but there has been so much going on recently! The only ones I really see are the children who love to tell Frodides of their day, and they are very sweet, especially little Léoðern - have you seen much of them?"

"I have seen them about," said Náin slowly. Here was a field Dwarves early learned to avoid. It was better to say nothing than to say something offensive, and Dwarves did not compliment if the compliment was not honest. "To be truthful, though, they avoid me, and I would rather have it so. I am older than their grandsires, and I am a serious man. I prefer the company of their elders, and I think they sense this of me."

To Náin's amazement, Kara laughed.

"Náin," she said, "you're old enough to be my grandsire, nearly!"

This, thought Náin was precisely why Dwarves said little in the way of gossip. Kara did not seem offended, but it was well that she was a daughter of Men and not of Dwarves.

"I am afraid I did not think of that," admitted Náin, no longer so nervous of what he was saying as he was wary. "Our races age differently. In Dwarven terms I am considered as much grown up as you are."

"But I am not really considered grown at all," said Kara. "At least, not by everyone."

"I am merely 53," said Náin, at which Kara made a stifled noise of amusement. "Which is young indeed. The famed Gimli son of Glóin was over sixty when he wished to join his father and Thorin Oakenshield on the quest for Erebor, but his father said he was too young, and most Dwarves would have agreed. I am a talented sculptor, and the lands are safe since the War, so my father did not object to my coming to Edoras, but as we Dwarves go, I am young and barely tried."

littlemanpoet

01-06-2007, 08:33 PM

Falco took note that Eodwine had chosen a different table to sit at with Marenil and Randvér. This was a fine how do you do! He took out his pipe, lit it, and puffed his a spleen's worth of smoke rings, angry wisps thickening the air of the Hall.

"Why make you this smoke?" asked Lefun with a cough, the two hands taking turns wiping Lefun's, then Ritun's eyes. Falco watched their cooperation with mild amazement.

"How do you decide who gets his eyes wiped first?"

"I first go," said Lefun, "as in front I be. Long ago we chose it."

"Ah."

"Why make smoke?"

"I like it."

Lefun made a face that looked like he'd tasted something bitter in his porridge. "How?"

"I know not and care not. It grows on you."

Ritun looked surprised, and watched with renewed interest.

"Too big it be for you now!" cried Lefun.

What? Then Falco laughed. "No! Not getting bigger! When I tried it as a teener I didn't like it much at all, but all the other hobbit lads swore by it, so I kept at it. Now I like it plenty."

"Tree bark I would eat before making such smoke!" Lefun said. Ritun whispered in his ear. "We need work to pay the lord."

"Let's wait until he's finished with those two. Let's you two and me go out and walk about for now."

Falco got up and the twins reluctantly followed him out of the Hall.

Folwren

01-07-2007, 08:59 PM

Javan asked no more questions. He watched the horses as they led them back and forth across the courtyard. They did dry quickly, as Léof had said they would. They led them back into the stables and tied once more to the rings in the wall. Léof handed a brush to Javan and the two boys set to work grooming them.

Javan was thinking as he worked. He wondered what his duties would be. If there was too much work to be done, they wouldn’t be able to ride, and that would almost defeat the purpose of working in the stables (he thought). Léof probably did get to ride, though, Javan decided after a little more consideration. The horses needed exercise. But what if Léof was going to give him only the bad jobs and not let him help exercise? Maybe Léof would think he was too young, or too little, to help with that. He lifted himself onto his toes to peer over the back of the horse so that he could see Léof.

“Do you ever ride, Léof?” he asked.

Firefoot

01-13-2007, 10:42 AM

“Well, sometimes,” answered Léof absently. Unused to having a companion while working, he had slipped into a reverie now broken by Javan’s question. Something seemed familiar about the question, if only he could remember what.

When Javan didn’t respond right away, Léof glanced over the horse’s back to see that Javan was not very satisfied with his answer, and Léof remembered. Before breakfast, hadn’t Javan mentioned something about coming down to the stables to exercise horses if he ever had some spare time? Javan didn’t really want to know if Léof ever rode the horses – he wanted to know if he would get to ride them.

“But now that there are two of us working here, the chores will take less time and there will be more time to exercise the horses,” he said, causing Javan’s face to light up.

Then Léof realized that he had never actually seen Javan ride, and that maybe it would be a good idea for him to see how Javan handled a horse while riding before he sent Javan off to exercise them on his own. If Javan had the same gaps in knowledge about riding as he had shown in grooming and walking the horses, Léof wasn’t sure that he’d be able to let Javan ride the horses for a while, however much this would disappoint Javan – not until Léof had time to teach him better habits. Léof wouldn’t tell Javan all this now, though; he might even be quite a good rider who just didn’t have much experience caring for horses. He said simply, “Sometime this week I’d like to take you out riding – just to see how you handle a horse. If that goes well, we can take it from there.”

Kath

01-15-2007, 07:04 AM

"Frodides! You have help! Allow me to introduce Ginna daughter of Randvér, eorldorman from the north of the Middle Emnet."

Frodides turned round surprised, soapy hands dripping water onto the floor. Tutting in annoyance she grabbed Kara's still drying apron from where the girl had left it and dried herself off before crossing the kitchen to discover just what was going on. Help? She already had help, even if it had gone missing today.

A quick but hard glance at the newcomer told Frodides that this girl didn't have the same sweet naiveté that Kara did. No, this one was sharp and probably wasn't afraid to show it, a quality she liked in those young enough yet to be berated for it. Still, she wondered just what she was to do with her. There really was no room for a third cook and even if there had there was no need for one. Opening her mouth to inquire what this Ginna was for she found herself pre-empted by Eodwine.

"She is to be our serving wench. Kara can't continue to do everything alone and Ginna's father wishes her to learn some necessary skills. She'll be under your command so teach her well. I must attend to our guests, good day!"

Both women eyed each other up, the Eorl leaving almost unnoticed. Frodides noted the keen interest in Ginna's eyes but either she was shy about speaking out or wasn't sure of the rules yet. She doubted it was shyness, even just a moment with the girl had given her the impression that gentleness would probably be met with contempt, so she settled on the blunt approach she was famous for in order to get her talking.

"So girl, what is it you've done to get yourself put in here? A serving wench is no bad job but I'll warrant you're of a position where work is hardly something you need."

The straightforward outburst confirmed the notions Ginna had formed regarding the woman before her. Her father seemed to have come to the right place. Frodides did not appear as one who would tolerate idleness and nonsense; perhaps she would even watch her with a tenacity to rival, if not outmatch, the lord's! But far from finding her intimidating, or at least not as welcoming as the young Lèoðern and the Lord Eodwine, Ginna felt oddly drawn to her.

But maybe that's just because I feel alone. Anyone in that blesséd place would be better company than the one she had left when Eodwine led her into the kitchen. Though she expected to be given the whole day to spend as she would like, and was disappointed in being told that she was to start right away, Ginna felt nothing but excitement. She had a new life ahead of her. A life that, because she would have to live with people other than herself in mind, was without a doubt more meaningful.

"I am hoping to bury the memory of it beneath the tasks you would have me do," she replied, the faintest hint of a grin playing on her lips. "Let us just say that in being here I hope to learn...how a proper woman should be."

"And what's got you thinking you're not already a proper woman?" Frodides replied, intrigued by the amusement in Ginna's answer.

That's a question best asked of my father, Ginna thought bitterly. She lightly shrugged.

"Perhaps that I seem to know but a little of serving, and too much of being served. That's one misfortune of being the sole child."

She looked around the kitchen with casual interest, hoping the thought of their duties would return to Frodides's mind. Ginna feared that their conversation was approaching a point she would rather it did not reach.

As Ginna glanced round the kitchen a little uncomfortably Frodides decided to let the subject go. No point in scaring the girl off now. One last question had to be asked though before they could move on as she needed to know whether there were more mouths to feed.

"And is the father that allowed you to be so unfortunate staying for lunch?"

"I honestly don't know for certain," replied Ginna. "I thought he was just to accompany me, and then go on his way, but he might want to stay a bit and get re-acquainted with the Lord Eodwine." Though I hope not, she added to herself.

"It would be good to teach me what I have to learn for now, anyway. I'm quite a quick learner, from experience."

"Indeed?" Frodides asked, pleased by Ginna's apparent eagerness and her confident manner. "We'll start with a simple lesson then just to check your aim. See those cups by the sink? Lay them out around this table ... that's it ... now fill that jug with water and use it to fill the cups."

The look Ginna gave her after being given the last instruction made Frodides laugh out loud.

"I know it seems silly but there are those who can't pour without spilling everywhere. Normally I would send you out to the great hall but we've had one accident out there already this morning, and guests don't take kindly to having water thrown over them. In any case, all those who want drinks have them at the moment. So start practising."

A bit reluctantly, irrationally thinking there must be a trap laid out to ensure her failure, Ginna retrieved the jug to which Frodides pointed. Once filled with water, it felt considerably heavy in her arms, but her training with the sword had strengthened her slender limbs enough to hold it steady. And then, slowly and carefully, she poured the water into the cups. It took her a while, but she did it without any spillage.

She put down the now only half-filled jug, exhaled lightly, and looked up expectantly at Frodides, unable to resist inwardly smiling at her success.

Frodides nodded in satisfaction. Ginna could follow instructions and pour a steady cup. Her speed would have to be worked on but that would improve with time and the experience of serving a table of thirsty guests all wanting drink at once. She had to admit to herself that she was mildly impressed with the girl, as that jug she'd been given to practise with was far heavier than anything Kara used and yet she'd managed the weight and borne it without complaint.

"Good." Was what she said aloud. "We might just make a serving wench of you yet. I'll need to try you with food next but there's no way of doing that until it's ready to be served, and I need your help with that."

Nodding toward the large array of unprepared goods laid out along one of the walls she continued.

"This isn't something you would usually be called on to do but I've had a fair number of interruptions today and the girl that works with me has taken the day off. It's a good thing to learn anyway."

"What do I do?" Ginna responded, and Frodides set her to work immediately, again impressed despite herself at the girl's obvious determination to succeed with this punishment. For that was definitely what this was. If a nobleman merely wanted his daughter to learn things that might prove useful to her later in life he would have her learn them as part of lessons rather than actually forcing her to change her entire way of living. Ginna might not be ready to give answers yet, but Frodides was sure that the departure of her father and a sympathetic ear might just persuade her otherwise.

Folwren

01-16-2007, 06:08 PM

Thornden was pleased that he had found something for Javan to do so quickly. He reminded himself almost at once, though, that this was only a trial. If Javan didn’t work well in the stables, Thornden would have to think of another position the boy might take. He smiled a little at the thought. Javan would most certainly be very disappointed if it came to that.

“Don’t think of it,” he told himself softly. “Not yet, anyway. There are seven days yet before that decision is to be made and there are other problems at hand to be considered. Lys, for instance,” he realized suddenly as his eye fell on the boy. Thornden had just re-entered the hall and he saw Lys sitting by himself at the table.

Thornden knit his brows in thought and paused in the doorway. He looked closely at Lys and considered both his abilities and his inabilities. His body was frail, and the frail body was mending after being badly broken. Perhaps it was frail only because of how badly it had been battered. Perhaps if half his bones hadn’t been broken he would have been no different than Léof. But all that was simply speculation, Thornden told himself reprovingly. He walked forward and approached Lys.

“Good morning, Lys,” Thornden said, sliding into a seat beside the lad. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

Lys glanced up and gave him a smile. “Yes, I have just finished,” he replied.

“Good,” Thornden said, nodding. He looked down and there was a short pause. “Lys, I haven’t thought of anything for you to do. I know that you are worried that nothing will be found for you to do, and I know that I’ve told you not to worry about it, and you shouldn’t worry about it, either, but it will take some consideration to think of something for you to do. Have you any idea of what you can do?” He was tempted to ask what Lys had done before he was hurt, but Thornden figured that would be more of a hindrance than a help. “Is there anything you think you would like to do?”

--
Taralphiel's Post

Lys chewed on his lip, eyes downcast as he thought on the question. He knew so little about himself, and the thoughts of his possible physical uses were inhibited in part, if not all, but the limp he still carried. He needed strength, but if was to ever come, it would do so with more time. Hrethel was a patient man for good reason. He could not remember any skills he once had…and so it would be left to him…to start over. Just as his sudden start in a dark alley had left the rest of him.

“Thornden…I should like…to learn. I do not know what I am good at. I do not know what…I enjoy. I know I enjoy spending time with you, and Javan and Léof. But I do not think those things would make up skill…” Lys laughed a little and looked up at Thornden.

“I heard…in passing from some of the children…that there are classes. Do you think I’d be able to try to learn? I am much older…but I do not know what I may have once known…”

Folwren

01-17-2007, 08:15 PM

“Sometime this week I’d like to take you out riding – just to see how you handle a horse. If that goes well, we can take it from there.”

Javan skipped over the ‘just see how you handle a horse’ and his mind lit immediately upon the riding part. “That would be jolly fun!” he cried, nearly skipping with excitement. “I like to ride. I’ve ridden quite a bit. I know how to handle horses, really I do. What do you mean, take it from there? You do more than riding?” His eyes widened at a sudden thought. “Do you jump them? Mamma would never let me jump on a horse. She always told me I’d fall off and crack my head. But I really think I could do it!”

“I somehow think it wouldn’t be a good idea for you to go jumping if your mother didn’t approve,” Léof began slowly.

“She wouldn’t have to know,” Javan said, interrupting Léof before he could say that the horses here didn’t generally jump anyway. “She’s half a day’s ride from here. It could be another half year before I saw her, and it wouldn’t be necessary for her to be told.”

littlemanpoet

01-18-2007, 10:44 AM

Eodwine returned to the Mead Hall and sat at the table with Randvér and Marinel, the latter of whom was relating some story from the south of Gondor; Randvér's interest did not flag, and so Eodwine listened in.

He did notice, however, that Falco seemed somewhat put out over his choice of neighbors with whom to enjoy the morning repast. The Hobbit marched out of the Hall and into the kitchen with Ritun and Lefun in tow. Eodwine raised his brow; what was Falco up to?

Suddenly Eodwine heard a blood curdling scream from the kitchen. He almost fell backward off his chair; Marenil was halted in the middle of his tale, and Randvér's brow furrowed. Eodwine got up and dashed to the kitchen.

Firefoot

01-18-2007, 12:08 PM

If Léof had not been responsible for the safety of both Javan and the horses, if this plan had been proposed to him by a friend back before he had come to the Hall (although friends had been scarce), he might have thought the plot would be fun and harmless. Might have. As it was, Léof was much quicker to see the pitfalls than the benefits of such a plan. Javan was so excited about it, though, that he hated to tell him no.

“These horses don’t really do much jumping,” Léof explained instead.

“Just once or twice,” Javan wheedled.

“Javan, these horses aren’t for our pleasure – they’re for us to exercise and care for, and I’m responsible for their safety – and yours,” said Léof, less firmly than he might have liked, and nor did he look at Javan, bending over one of the horse’s feet instead.

“It wouldn’t be dangerous!” said Javan. Léof’s concern was starting to rapidly escalate by now. Javan’s willingness to bend the rules disturbed him, and Léof wasn’t sure that Javan was really taking the work seriously. It wouldn’t all be fun and games.

He was saved from answering, however, as a scream rent the air. Two instincts warred inside Léof’s head: to go help or to stay with the horses still tied in the aisle. “Javan, help me get these horses into stalls,” he said, deftly unclipping one and taking it to the nearest empty stall – he was unconcerned that at the moment it had no bedding in it. “Come on!”

Lhunardawen

01-20-2007, 10:00 PM

At Frodides's bidding Ginna took over washing the dishes, as the cook saw about the food. "I cannot be trusted yet with cooking," she had sheepishly informed Frodides, and so she was asked to finish the task left discontinued at her and Eodwine's interruption.

Ginna was carrying the dishes to the table when she noticed a hobbit enter the kitchen. "Good mor--" she began her greeting, and ended it with an earsplitting shriek; so loud it was that the crash of earthenware on the floor went unheard. Ginna gaped at the...creature - or two - or two in one - whatever it was that followed the hobbit - what was it?

"Oh no, girl, what have you done?" she heard Frodides say.

"I-I-I'm sorry..." she stammered at Frodides's general direction. Flushing wildly in embarrassment, she knelt down on the floor to pick up the pieces of broken earthenware, fearfully glancing at the strange creature now and again. It seemed to have noticed the trouble it had caused, and awkwardly hurried forward to help her. Ginna was so startled at its approach that she failed to notice a particularly sharp fragment near her hand until her palm brushed against it. A cry of pain escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

There came the sound of many hurried footsteps, and then the Lord Eodwine, Marenil, and a very displeased-looking Randvér burst into the kitchen. Ginna abruptly stood and hung her head, biting her lips to keep her tears from falling - and not because of the bleeding hand she held in her unharmed other.

littlemanpoet

01-21-2007, 07:02 PM

The moment Eodwine entered the kitchen, the new kitchen wench, Ginna, stood up abruptly, standing before broken earthenware and a kneeling Ritun and Lefun.

"Now why did you go and scream so?" Falco demanded.

"Master Baggins, be quiet!" Eodwine ordered. "Falco, escort Ritun and Lefun out of the kitchen in all haste, that way!" Eodwine pointed to the far door that led to the Alder Court. It was obvious what had happened: Ginna thought she had been confronted by a monster. She was holding one hand in the other. Still, it was necessary for the girl to speak for herself.

"Ginna, tell us what happened."

Lhunardawen

01-22-2007, 02:07 AM

Holding her hands behind her back, Ginna calmed herself with a deep breath and plunged into the tale.

"I had been carrying the dishes to the table when the hobbit entered with his--" she hesitated, and settled with "companions. They surprised me, but I shouldn't have screamed so."

From the corner of her eyes she could see the hard expression on her father's face, and tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the lord's questioning look towards the floor.

"And I am so sorry for the dishes," she added as she followed Eodwine's gaze, and quickly glanced apologetically at Frodides. "They slipped from my hands. I will do what is needed to replace them. And please, do not blame--them," she gestured at the door through which the three left the kitchen. "They did nothing wrong. It was all my fault."

She stopped, realising she had spoken too much. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and proceeded to pick up another broken piece from the floor, careful to hide her wound. She tried not to think about her father's exasperation, or the lord's and Frodides's disappointment, or what lay ahead of her now, concentrating instead on cleaning up the mess she made with as little damage to her hands and her dignity as possible.

Kath

01-22-2007, 02:32 PM

The screams and crashing that had echoed round the kitchen had Frodides clutching her heart and concentrating on little else than making sure the kitchen roof hadn't fallen in again, but as Ginna resumed picking up the pieces of shattered bowl from the floor the little spots of blood that followed the trail of her hands caught her eye and she finally noticed the reason for the second cry that had come out of the girl. Shaking her head in sympathy she slowly bent down, wincing as her knees cracked, and carefully took Ginna's hands in her own, placing the fragments back on the floor.

"Come on, let's get this washed up and looked after." She murmured quietly, aware that Ginna wasn't far from weeping and not wanting an overly harsh tone to push her into doing just that while the man Frodides assumed was her father was watching.

"But-I-the bowls?" Ginna stuttered, trying to pick the pieces up still even as Frodides guided her to her feet.

"Never you mind the bowls, they can be replaced. It's your hand we need to look at. Here we go, sit down now."

Gently she pushed the shaking girl onto a stool and then filled a bowl with water and placed Ginna's bleeding hand into it.

"Just you keep that there while I clear up, alright?"

Not waiting for an answer Frodides grabbed the broom and made her way back to the mess on the floor, behind which Eodwine and Ginna's father were still standing.

"I doubt she'll need the Healer my Lord. The cut isn't deep and it's shock and embarrassment that has her shivering like that not pain. It would be wise though I think if everyone were to leave, recovery is often faster when it's only yourself you have to look out for."

littlemanpoet

01-23-2007, 10:02 AM

"Well said, Frodides," Eodwine replied. He smiled at his cook. "Let us return to the Mead Hall, my friends." Randvér and Marenil followed him back out of the kitchen.

Eodwine had not known Frodides very long, having become a regular at the White Horse Inn, the Mead Hall's old name, just months before Bêthberry had decided to run off on adventure and leave it in his hands, cahooting no doubt with the King to have him Eorled. Eodwine shook his head. And the Frodides had noised about ending her time as cook once a suitable replacement could be found. That replacement had now been found, but truth be told, there was enough work for both Kara and Frodides, even with Ginna's help on top of it all. And he still had to find a new hostess, somehow. The train of his thought finally made it to the point he had been aiming for: he was happy to have Frodides about. She was solid and stolid and knew when to apply barbed word as well as salvy speech. And that was all beyond her excellent cooking! So he hoped she would not leave any time soon. She would be needed, especially with a new property for Eodwine to see to. Which reminded him of Marenil.

Once they had sat down again, Eodwine broached the subject as they ate and drank.

"Marenil, I recall the many ideas you had to improve this place."

"Yes, Eorl."

"I thought well of them all as good ideas but did not feel them all well-suited to my Eorling." Eodwine paused and let the silence bring out whatever question might be poised in Marenil's mind.

"Pray, what, lord, do your words this morning tend toward?"

Eodwine smiled. "The King has given me the land of Sorn, to turn it into the new ways. The very same ways you had spoken of. I will of course obey the king's wishes. But I need a man I can trust to go there and see this thing through. What would you think were you that man?"

Folwren

01-23-2007, 04:18 PM

Javan’s head jerked up and turned as he heard the sound of a woman’s scream. It was near enough to send his heart leaping to his throat, but the very idea that anyone could have made such a sound reach them was in itself startling enough. Startling and exciting. He quickly followed Léof’s example, released the horse from his restraint and led him into another empty stall. He quickly released him and exited, closing and latching the door behind himself.

Léof had already come out and he waved to Javan to follow him. Javan ran up the aisle after him and together they burst out into the open sunlight.

“Who was it?” Javan asked, as they crossed the yard towards the hall.

“I don’t know,” Léof said, “but she may need help.”

Out of one of the side doors of the hall came a short, round figure. Javan slowed his steps and turned his head to look again. He had never seen a hobbit before and he couldn’t help his eyes becoming round at the sight of a man only three feet high. But someone followed Falco who caused Javan to forget about the hobbit, and also caused his eyes to become even larger and rounder, and made his feet stop altogether. His mouth dropped open half an inch and his mind was completely wiped of any memory of his mother ordering him not to stare.

What was it? Not man, not elf (Javan had never seen an elf, but he’d heard of them, and this certainly wasn’t one of them), not an animal - it had the faces of men. But what was it?

The answer was impossible for Javan to come by, so instead of doing what an older and more sensible person might do and either go ask or leave immediately so as not to be rude, he stood stock still and stared.

littlemanpoet

01-24-2007, 09:49 AM

Falco glanced at the two boys, Léof and a new one he hadn't met yet who was staring unabashedly at Lefun and Ritun. Falco rolled his eyes.

"Oh for the love o' Lobelia!" he cried. "Can't we go nowhere without sommat up and deciding to gawk?"

Falco was beginning to wonder if bringing Lefun and Ritun to the Eorling Mead Hall had been such a grand notion after all. He looked back at Lefun, and Ritun, in turn, and could see on their faces that they were pained but in a half smiling way which probably meant that they were more or less used to this.

"Sorry about this," he said to them. "Good morning to you Léof! Who's your gawking friend?"

Firefoot

01-24-2007, 02:58 PM

As uncomfortable as Falco’s bluntness was, Léof was grateful for it; it gave him something else to focus his attention on than that… that two-headed… whatever it was. He had little doubt that it had been the cause for the scream, and since it didn’t seem vicious, Léof figured the scream had been from fright rather than from pain.

“This is Javan, Thornden’s younger brother,” answered Léof, keeping his gaze firmly on Falco lest he begin to gape again. “He has been given a week’s trial as my assistant in the stables.” Léof glanced over at Javan, who had at first dropped his gaze at Falco’s reproof but was now beginning to stare again. Léof nudged him slightly with his elbow, and Javan didn’t seem to know where to look.

“And, um, what about you, Falco?” asked Léof, too casually. “Who is your new friend… friends…?”

littlemanpoet

01-28-2007, 02:41 PM

"These are Lefun and Ritun," answered Falco.

This Léof was a smart one. Falco appreciated that. He'd seen the nudge from the older boy to the younger, and that it had made little difference. This Javan was obviously a sheltered lad who needed to see the world a bit more than he had till now. These thoughts passed through his mind in a moment as he introduced the twins.

"They've been making do as best they could out by the ruins that Garmund and I - and your older brother Thornden -" he glanced Javan's way to include him "- went to just yesterday. We found 'em there and we asked 'em if they'd like to come on by here and live better. Right?" Falco looked to the twins for their nods.

Ritun, who was situated behind Lefun, nodded his head while his brother spoke.

"Asked to come we wert, and said aye."

"There you have it," Falco said. "So what duties are you leaving unattended to come gawk?"

“We’re not leaving any duties,” Javan blurted out. “I mean, we were just grooming some horses. We came because we heard someone screaming.” He finally looked away from Lefun and Ritun and his eyes settled on Falco. They were still as round as saucers and nearly as large. Falco’s face wore a look of unveiled annoyance and Javan swallowed, abruptly realizing that he was still staring, even if it wasn’t at the twins. He dropped his gaze and looked at the ground, sending small glances up at the hobbit and then at Lefun and Ritun. “What did she scream for?” he asked.

Falco pointed at Lefun and Ritun with his thumb. "Because she saw these two unexpected like. But she's fine now and so are we, and there's your answer. Now off you run back to your duties so's the twins an' I can sit in peace back here."

The two boys did not leave.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

Léof was frowning. "For better courtesy, sir!"

Falco's eyes had their turn at going wide. "Well, I guess you're right. Well then, please do accept my apology for my annoyed words. And if you would please excuse us, we will retire to the bower. Good day!" Falco turned and began walking to the Alder Tree Court.

His words were hardly better, as their meaning was no different than the first time; but the form was right enough. The two boys finally turned away and went back to the stables, not without frowning glances.

Lhunardawen

01-29-2007, 02:17 AM

What moments ago was a stinging pain on Ginna's palm had diminished to a dull throb. Frodides was right - the wound wasn't deep. Ginna had watched as blood spilled generously from the cut, swirling, staining the water pink, and then, overwhelmed by it, vanishing. Now the spectacle of liquid converging with liquid was over, leaving the water to dance contentedly by itself as Ginna's fingers wriggled in its midst, delighting in its soothing coolness.

Ginna turned to watch Frodides sweep away the debris on the floor. Stupid girl, of course there's a broom, she silently berated herself. She looked again at her wound. It still smarted a bit, but once bandaged she knew it would no longer be a bother. She had been hurt worse.

The last traces of the broken dishes had disappeared beneath the broom, and along with it came a little of Ginna's guilt and shame. Perhaps, she thought, Frodides was not at all as stern as she first appeared. What the Lord Eodwine - and her father - had to say on what happened she was yet to hear, but for the moment she was spared from the judgment. It was as though Frodides knew exactly how she felt.

"Thank you," Ginna sighed, supposedly meant for her ears alone, but too deep in her own thoughts she did not hear how silent the kitchen had become.

Kath

01-29-2007, 12:13 PM

The new turn in the conversation had Kara fascinated. She had never met a Dwarf until Náin arrived at the Hall and so knew very little about them. The idea that someone could be considered young at 53 was amazing to her. Why, Frodides wasn't a great many years from that age and Kara thought of her as an old woman!

"Dwarves must live to a great age then. For you to be considered the same age as I am you would have to live at least twice as long." She commented.

"That is true," he replied with a nod, "and when war or other troubles do not cause us to die earlier than we should we do live longer than humans."

Kara paused for a moment to ponder on what those other troubles could be. She had never heard of a Dwarf getting sick, though perhaps they were like the men of her own home town who would force themselves into the fields despite raging fevers rather than admit they were ill. A more burning question than that was in her mind though, and she chose to ask that instead.

"Is that why you don't make friends with them? Humans I mean. Because you would be sad to lose their company when they die and you don't?"

The question seemed to startle Náin as he didn't reply immediately. Suddenly worried that perhaps this was something he would rather not have thought of Kara made to change the subject again, but was interrupted by the Dwarf's thoughtful answer.

Formendacil

01-31-2007, 08:22 PM

"Is that why you don't make friends with them? Humans I mean. Because you would be sad to lose their company when they die and you don't?"

Náin was, as Kara seemed to perceive, startled by her question, but unlike some of the previous topics discussed, he did not find this to be an uncomfortable topic, though it did merit thought.

"No..." said Náin uncertainly, pausing in his stride to consider. They were standing amid the old Gondorian ruins by now, and Náin found the ancient, crumbing masonry an aid to clarifying his thought.

"It is a truth that certainly does not encourage our interaction," admitted Náin, on second thought, "but I do not think it is the full tale. Much has been said of the secrecy of the Dwarves by your peoples, and there is some truth to them. The keeping of secrets, once entrusted, and the preservation of who we are as a people is deeply important to a Dwarf. Men, by contrast, betray lightly secrets a Dwarf would hold to his death. And Man is always looking forward to new horizons, new seasons, and new ways of doing things. This is hard for a Dwarf to perceive. If something is not broken, we do not seek to replace it."

"But Dwarves are supposed to be clever artificers," said Kara. "I'd have thought you liked tinkering with things."

"With things, yes," said Náin, leaning on a low stone wall, and looking not at Kara, but at the White Mountains behind them. "With tools and toys and trinkets. But with home and culture?" He shook his head. "We would not rest after we were expelled from Erebor, for it was our home and it was how life was meant to be. Even a thousand years and more since Khazad-dûm was barred to our return, we have felt exiled. Our tongue changes not over the centuries, nor do we forget our histories or our families. We are like rocks, changing only slightly over time."

Náin turned back to Kara, who was not looking at the mountains, but watching him.

"Great friendships have been struck between Men and Dwarves before," he continued. "The entire nations of Dale and Erebor testify to this. You are correct that it is not easy for a Dwarf to lose a friend in what seems a cruelly premature fashion. We do not befriend easily, nor do we take to the loss of friendship easily."

littlemanpoet

02-02-2007, 10:30 PM

Having received Marenil's answer, Eodwine thanked him and left the Mead Hall with Randvér, who wanted to see his friend and Eorl's new estate, such as it was. Eodwine was somewhat embarrassed to show his friend the parts of the Mead Hall holding that still strongly resembled an Inn rather than an Eorl's keep. However, Randvér had made Eodwine's acquaintance during the War, when he had just come from the Gap of Rohan as a mere farmer and freeholder. So Randvér was quick with praise at Eodwine's good fortune in having risen so high.

"You have served your King well, and he has rewarded you."

"More than I deserve," Eodwine replied.

"Question not the wisdom of the king when his gifts come into your hands. He knows what he does and why."

"I give in!" Eodwine laughed.

"But now, friend Eorl, you have a new problem. 'Tis the same as mine. You need another wife."

Eodwine's shoulders slumped. Not this again. "Rand, I have been through two attempts, as it were, to find a marriageable woman, and both times came to nothing."

"So you will try no more?"

"I did not say that!" Eodwine looked about him for some excuse to change the subject. "There! You see the new paddock. Do you think it large enough?"

They leaned on the rails, taking in the late spring sun, talking of many other things as well as the day drew toward noon.

littlemanpoet

02-05-2007, 05:01 PM

The sun was moving toward setting. Eodwine had seen Randvér off, who, though Eodwine had tried to convince him to stay, had wished to be back home not long after nightfall. "Take care of my daughter," he had said, "and do not fear to whip some sense into her."

"Whip? I should think not!"

"Do not relent from needful discipline, then."

"I will do what must be done, friend Randvér. Trust me."

"I do! 'Tis her I do not trust. Fare well!"

Shaking his head, Eodwine had watched him ride off away. As he watched, he saw the blacksmith twins making their way from their shop to the Mead Hall.

"Greetings, Garreth! Greetings Harreld!"

"Good even to you!" they replied.

The three traded the day's news as they walked into the Mead Hall, and found a table near the kitchen.

"Is that two headed man still around?" asked Garreth warily.

"No. There is no two headed man. There are twins who are joined at the waist, whose names are Lefun and Ritun. Now stop being such orcs about it and let be! They are twins as much as you, except that they have had the misfortune of having to share the same pair of legs."

"Hmmm," Harreld murmured, "maybe it would be good to have a talk with them. It might be good to get to know another pair of twins, no matter how many or few legs they have between them."

"That's the spirit!" Eodwine clapped.

"Fine, fine, fine," Garreth said. "I'm hungry and thirsty. Where's that Kara?"

"Off for the day," Eodwine replied, "but we have a stand in. I should think she'll be out and about shortly."

Nogrod

02-07-2007, 05:15 PM

"So lads, how was your day?", Stigend asked the two dirty and grim-looking boys as they came to the table with their bowls. Without a word or a glance they both started spooning their soups. It seemed neither of them was exactly willing to answer Stigend's question.

"Proper work makes a hungry man..." Garstan said in amusement and smiled to Stigend who nodded him back approvingly.

"But you know what? I can already write the letters A, D, E, F and G!" Leothern who was also sitting at the table declared full of pride. "And tomorrow I will learn a lot more!"

"Hush, Leothern!", Garstan turned to his daughter with a look that made her turn back to her own bowl.

..........
The boys had spent their day at shepherd Ordulf's place just outside the town. He had asked for men to hire from the Mead Hall to help him with the shearing yesterday but lord Eodwine had then had to turn him back emptyhanded as the renovation was taking all the men in the Hall and there were no free hands to spare. So lord Eodwine had been most relieved when he had heard the plan of Garstan and Stigend this morning. He had been happy enough to actually give the men freedom to bargain a deal with Ordulf as they saw fit.

The fathers had taken the two somewhat resisting boys to Ordulf's place after breakfast. The old shepherd was delighted with his new, although unexperienced farmhands. He would have the boys for five days and learn them the trade. He was also given free hands with the discipline as long he would stay reasonable, and he should provide the boys with a lunch once a day. Garstan and Stigend were offering the labour for free but Ordulf insisted that the Mead Hall would get at least one lamb for it's help to him. He also suggested that if the boys would turn out handy helpers he would provide them with enough of their self-sheared wool to make two small winterjackets out of. The fathers had approved the deal and thanked the shepherd from his generosity and Old Ordulf begged the men to send his warm thanks to the lord of the Mead Hall.

..........
The boys were back now after their first actual day of work in their life.

Neither seemed to be in too high spirits and they seemed to concentrate only in their eating. But soon their bowls were licked clean from every last drop in them and all the crumbs of bread had been picked by their little but dirty fingers. They clearly couldn't prolong it anymore.

"I'm tired dad... Can I go to sleep?", Cnebba asked his father looking straight into his eyes, now using his begging expression Stigend had always found so hard to resist. But here, in front of all the others he had to colden his heart and take a firmer stance.

"Well, you two tell us how your day went first. You may possibly have a bit lighter go with your evening studies today as it's your first day... I quess?", Stigend searched for any compassion or backing from Garstan's eyes, but wasn't too sure of his expression.

"Did the sheep stink as bad as you two do?", Leothern asked, attempting a purely curious tone in her voice.

Celuien

02-07-2007, 08:18 PM

Knowing well that Lèoðern's voice held poorly hidden merriment, Garmund frowned. "It's not so funny. You'd stink too if you had to fight the sheep."

"Fight the sheep? The nice little lambs? Why would you do that?" Now she was laughing.

"They aren't so nice when you're trying to take their wool," he grumbled. Garmund snatched a leftover heel of bread and tore it with his fingers. He was still hungry, never having worked so hard in a day before in his life.

"Surely the work cannot have been as bad as that?" Garstan asked.

"Yes it could," Garmund said, shooting a glare at Cnebba. "But it didn't have to be. It didn't start out quite as bad as it turned out to be."

"It wasn't my fault!" Cnebba protested.

"Yes it was. You let go."

"You nicked her skin and she twisted away!"

Stigend, seeing a fresh quarrel brewing, interrupted. "Now boys. Don't fight. What happened? From the beginning."

The boys glared at each other for a moment. Then Garmund began to tell the story.

"It wasn't so bad at first. Old Master Ordulf showed us how to shear the first sheep."

"Then we tried to shear a little while he helped us hold the shears."

"Then he said we could try ourselves while he watched."

They fell silent again, staring angrily.

"And then?" asked Garstan.

"Cnebba was trying to hold her and I had the shears..."

"And that's when the sheep got away."

"Yes. Do we have to go back?" The boys sounded glum.

Garstan looked at the boys, both amused and pitying.

"Well, you have had a hard day. But nothing worth having comes with ease. I think you, Garmund, must go back for the rest of the week. And I think that you will find that the job is easier if you can learn to work well with Cnebba. As to the lessons for tonight, I have not decided. I am not sure that you can pay mind to your book well after a long day of work. What do you think, Stigend?"

Kath

02-09-2007, 10:53 AM

Frodides had left Ginna to her own thoughts while she swept up the mess on the floor. After all, a little bit of peace and quiet would do the girl good after the shock she'd just had. Even so, she had kept a close eye on her as she'd bustled around the kitchen making just enough noise that her presence would remain obvious. Frodides had seen the look on Ginna's face as she had met her father's disapproving eyes, and she didn't think anyone who looked as devastated as Ginna had at that moment should be left to their own devices. But it was at a moment when Frodides had her back to her newest charge that Ginna finally seemed to come back to reality.

"Thank you." Came the soft voice, and Frodides turned to see Ginna lazily stirring her hand around in the bowl. 'Perhaps not quite back with us yet.' The cook thought with a small smile, as Ginna wasn't even looking at her.

"You're welcome." She said aloud, and allowed the smile to grow as the girl jumped and shot a startled look in her direction, a blush spreading over her face as she realised that she had been heard. "Now let's take a look at that hand."

Ginna had lifted her hand carefully from the water and allowed Frodides to inspect it, salve it and bandage it with little more than a wince. Carefully she experimented with it, wiggling her fingers and making a fist, smiling as she found that she could do both without it hurting too badly.

"Better?" Frodides had asked, receiving an enthusiastic nod in return. "Good. Then shall we get on with what we were doing before? It's getting closer to suppertime now and I could still use some help."

"Are you sure you want me to help?" The girl had replied, fidgeting nervously as she spoke. "I - I made such a mess last time."

"And no doubt you will again. You're learning, and you're not yet used to the strange happenings that go on here. Just wait though, and you'll soon find that a Hobbit with three feet attached to his head could wander through this kitchen and you'd not bat an eyelid."

Ginna had smiled at the image even as she shook her head in disbelief, and the apparent confidence that Frodides was showing in her soon had her following orders and helping with preparations as best she could. The two had worked quietly but comfortably until suppertime had arrived, and were just preparing to begin taking the evening meal out to the Hall when Ginna spoke up again.

"Frodides, am I to serve all this by myself? I don't yet know what I am doing, and I don't know how much I can carry at once."

A sigh escaped Frodides' lips as she considered her answer. Of course the girl shouldn't be working alone. With an injured hand on top of inexperience there was no telling what kind of mishaps would occur. But what was she to do? Kara was gone, Saeryn who had so kindly helped when needed was gone, and even Modtryth ...

"Another new arrival? Frodides your kitchen will soon be overflowing with workers!"

Eyes moving toward the door Frodides saw the welcome figure of the woman she had just been thinking about. Quickly relieving her of cloak and basket she explained the situation and received a promise of help in answer.

"Alright Ginna, Modtryth shall be your guide for this evening. Let her help you and learn as you go."

Putting a tray of bowls of soup into Ginna's hands and plates of bread into Modtryth's she sent them on their way before a reply could come from either and went back to work, praying that there wouldn't be another disaster before the day was through.

Nogrod

02-09-2007, 01:48 PM

Stigend was relieved to hear Garstan’s words. “I do agree with you on this”, he said and nodded to him. Then he turned his gaze to towards the boys again.

“You seem to be still hungry lads?”

Both boys nodded after they had first checked quickly each others intentions. Neither seemed to wish to be the only one admitting the hunger.

“I still can’t believe you wasted your whole day shearing that one sheep, even if you had to give it a good chase...” He studied the boys trying to find clues from their expressions. Both boys were trying to pull a stone face.

“So how about this? You tell us the rest of the day’s adventures and then you’ll get something more to eat? And we'll skip your studying today.” He glanced hastily at Garstan and he seemed to agree.

Garmund and Cnebba exchanged suspicious looks.

“Cnebba couldn’t hold the sheep still. That’s why I couldn’t shear them!”, Garmund exclaimed.

“That was because you were nicking them all the time! It was all your own fault.” Cnebba snapped back.

“C’mon now children!” Garstan came in between. “Now surely Ordulf saw all this. Didn’t he make you try the other way around?”

The boys were quiet for a while looking away from their fathers and each other in some embarrassement. After a short silence it was Cnebba who began this time.

“Unlike him, I learned to use the shear blades!” He threw a face at Garmund.

“Oh, did you! That was just because I could hold them still!” Garmund protested and returned the face to Cnebba.

Garstan and Stigend exchanged looks in amusement.

“So how many sheep did you shear today?” Stigend asked the boys as they had frozen still after noticing their fathers’ amusement. They looked a bit confused and were seemingly both struggling to come up with a figure.

“It was fourteen we did”, Cnebba said eventually.

“Huh! Fourteen? It was fifteen!”, Garmund disagreed strongly.

“You can’t even count!” Cnebba called him back.

“Just wait and I’ll show you some counting!” Garmund shouted.

“Okay, listen now you two!” Stigend said loudly enough for the boys to stop their bickering. “It looks that you have not fared too bad after all, so what’s all the hassle now? If you learn to pull it together it will be an easy week for you two, and you’ll get the nice wintercoats for it. I’ll promise we will find someone who will turn your wool into coats. If you're worthy of the wool... So think about it.”

The boys looked at their fathers and then carefully at each other. Garmund especially had to check Garstan's expression and Garstan nodded to him in approval of Stigend's words.

“Now go and get some more bread and soup to yourselves before you starve to death”, Garstan said and gave a short laugh. Stigend had to really concentrate not to burst himself before the boys had left to get something more to eat.

After they had chuckled a moment Stigend turned towards his friend.

“They truly seem to be like fighting cocks, but I guess we may succeed in this. You saw their shuffling and shifting when it came to things where they had succeeded today?”

littlemanpoet

02-09-2007, 03:08 PM

Eodwine was at table with Garreth and Harreld when Modtryth and Ginna came into the Mead Hall with trays of food and drink. Eodwine saw that Ginna had got her hand wrapped, which was good.

"Well looka there!" Garreth was half whispering behind him.

"I see her," Harreld said. "In fact, I saw her first."

"I spoke of her first," Garreth shot back.

Eodwine turned about and leveled his gaze at both of the black smithing twins. "She's the daughter of a friend of mine from the War. She's likely not marriagable to the likes of you, being a landholder's daughter. So don't get your hopes up or go about strutting and showing off by word or deed, do you hear?"

"Now Eodwine!" Garreth protested. "What do you think we are? Desperate?"

"Yes," he answered, "that's exactly what the two of you are."

Garreth pulled a face, not having expected to be pinned down so easily by his own words. Then he glanced at his brother, whose eyes were still glued to Ginna. He scowled and smacked Harreld aback of the head.

"Ow! What'd you do that for!" Harreld tried to return the slap but Garreth fended it off with an elbow.

"Didn't you hear the Eorl? None of that leering!"

"Leering! Leering!!" Harreld looked indignant. "I was doing no such thing." He resumed staring, his eyes going dovey. "She's a beauty."

"Ah, that trashes it!" said Garreth. "He's gone moony just like that."

Eodwine turned away and snickered, hoping the twins couldn't see him do it. He raised his hand and called to Modtryth for food and drink. Before long Modtryth, with Ginna in tow, was headed in their direction.

Celuien

02-11-2007, 04:25 PM

"So I did, Stigend." Garstan's eyes still glinted merrily. "They know well that they spent their day better in work together than they would have in their bickering, but they would rather keep their fight than show it." Garstan laughed again, shaking his head. "What a pair of proud boys we have. But they cannot keep it forever if they have more good luck together."

"I think they're just silly," Lèoðern commented airily.

"Who's silly?" Garmund came around the table with a fresh bowl of soup and a small dish of bread.

"You are." Lèoðern made a face.

In better spirits after his first helping and with Cnebba still away from the table, Garmund pointed at his sister's bowl in mock gravity. "Ha. I say it's silly to not have finished your soup by now. Last one finished is the silliest."

The children began eating as fast as they could.

Lhunardawen

02-12-2007, 03:01 AM

Ginna followed Modtryth into the Hall cautiously; one accident was more than enough for her first day. But for the most part she was looking out for her father, because she was not sure she was ready to see him together with the lord.

Eodwine, seated with two men Ginna had not yet met (twins, and normal-looking ones, she was marvelled and relieved to observe), called to Modtryth, and a glance at him told Ginna what she wanted to know: her father had gone. And without even saying goodbye. She felt an unexpected pang of sadness but bitterly shrugged it off. It was better that way, she told herself, they had embarrassed each other enough.

The lord noticed her searching gaze. "Your father had left, Ginna," he said aloud. "He wished to be home not too late, and did not want to bother you and Frodides." Ginna suppressed a grunt, nodding instead. Glancing at the two unfamiliar men, she made to put the tray she carried down in front of them, beside the plates of bread Modtryth had brought.

As she did so, her arms brushed against the outstretched ones of the twins, both of whom chose that moment to reach for the bread. She instinctively drew back, blushing a little at the blunder, and smiled to indicate that no harm had been done.

The men looked up at her. "I don't think I quite caught your name," one of them said. "Where are your manners, Lord Eodwine?"

"My name is Ginna," she responded before Eodwine could say a word. "I came here just this morning, and I will be your new serving wench. Which reminds me...if you will excuse us."

She bowed slightly, and turned to walk back to the kitchen with Modtryth. She felt a flutter in her chest, and an awkward sensation of being watched. Those looks - Ginna knew them. Indeed they were all too familiar, and it worried her to see them there. There, of all places.

littlemanpoet

02-12-2007, 08:30 PM

"Oh no," mumbled Garreth into his ale cup. "Look who's coming."

Harreld and Eodwine craned their necks as circumspectly as the occasion allowed, except that it was Falco with Ritun and Lefun stumping behind, coming from the back door that led to the Alder Court.

"Time for first supper!" cried Falco as he took the chair right next to Eodwine. "Here you go, Rilef!" he said slapping the seat beside him while the blacksmith twins shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

"Falco," said Eodwine, "call them by their right names out of courtesy!"

"Nay but they don't mind it a wit!" Falco rejoined. "It's easier!"

"I'm sure it is, but I'm not so sure they don't mind." Eodwine turned to the conjoined twins. "Would you not rather be called by your own names?"

"Rilef calls us both," Ritun said, shrugging his shoulders, while Lefun nodded.

Eodwine sighed. "Very well."

Modtryth came by, and Eodwine asked her for food for the three newly at the board.

"Where is Ginna?" Garreth asked Modtryth.

"In the kitchen," Modtryth replied evenly.

Harreld cuffed Garreth on the shoulder. "You leave the new wench be, brother. She's work to do. This here good wife can serve us well enough."

"And since when are you all of a care about who serves us?" Garreth asked pointedly.

Harreld's head sunk and he stared into his ale cup, muttering something unintelligible.

"You're all moony," Garreth declared.

Thinlómien

02-13-2007, 09:22 AM

There was too much going on. There was this new serving wench Ginna who Modtryth had hardly even met and with who she really ought to talk with. Then there was little Cnebba, just returned from day's work. Modtryth was curious to hear what he had to say about his first day at the shepherd's (and what would be Garmund's version of it). And of course there was work to do.

Modtryth hurried to the kitchen to fetch food for the newly arrived. Frodides was there, as always, looking after the food. As soon as the old cook saw Modtryth approaching she started to ladle food out from the pot to bowls. "How many?" she asked. "Rilef and Falco, that makes two, no, three", Modtryth replied. Putting the bowls on a tray Modtryth asked: "Where's the newcomer girl? Didn't she come here? I'd like to have a few words with her." "Oh, I sent her to fetch water from the well", Frodides replied. "And don't you girls start your nice little chit-chats after the meal's over, for I can't surely look after the food and do all the serving!" "Of course not", Modtryth replied, smiling and left the kitchen with the tray.

littlemanpoet

02-16-2007, 09:49 AM

"What!?" Garreth cried, his arms flying up, for Harreld had stoood up of a sudden.

"I need the latrine," he said under his breath.

"What for? Since when can't you hold your ale?"

"Shush!" Harreld said.

"Oh, I know where you're off to!" Garreth gibed.

Those at the table watched Harreld stomp off out of the Mead Hall, and turn left.

"Latrine's the other way!" Garreth shouted. Harreld turned around just long enough for everybody to see him look indignant and go very, very red in the face. Then he went into the kitchen.

"What's going on?" Falco asked.

"Nothing," Eodwine said, looking squarely at the Hobbit. The last thing he wanted was for Master Boffin to get his hobbit gossipy tongue going on this little tidbit. He rounded on Garreth, whose mouth was open ready to spit out exactly what he was thinking. "And you keep your mouth shut, Gar!"

Garreth looked stunned. "What did I do?"

~*~

Harreld made his way into, and through the kitchen. Only the cook was there, and she asked what he was wanting.

"The latrine."

"Out back!" said the cook.

Harreld made his escape through the far door and took a look around. He had never been in this part of the place before. There was a nice little courtyard a-making, with a nice slender tree in the middle of it, giving off shade. There was a bench under the tree, big enough for a few people, and there was somebody sitting on it. He took a step closer, fearing and hoping and forgetting how to think.

It was her. She turned and saw him. His tongue quit working. His brain was suddenly turned to useless sponge. He stared.

Lhunardawen

02-17-2007, 08:30 PM

The jar from which Ginna had practised pouring water into cups that morning stood on the ground by her feet, once again filled with water. She knew Frodides would want her back in the kitchen quickly, as those newly come were yet to be served, but Ginna had to take a breather. Apparently her wound had not yet completely healed; the pain had returned after her effort to lift the heavy jug. It was a good thing Modtryth was there to help Frodides.

Sitting on the bench, she closed her eyes and exhaled lightly, as the throbbing in her hand continued. She had had a tiring day, one she would have to get used to, but the physical exhaustion was nothing compared to the emotional confusion she now felt. No, now's not the time to think about it. She had work to do.

Ginna slowly, reluctantly opened her eyes. She was about to stand when again she sensed someone watching her; it was an ability she had picked up and almost perfected from experience. She turned, and saw one of the twins, the one who had not talked to her. Staring.

She quickly averted her eyes and stood. She stooped and lifted the jug from the ground - too quickly, she realised, as a fresh wave of pain came to her wounded hand. The jug slipped, and if not for her quick reflexes the water would have spilled.

"Let me-" a concerned, uncertain voice came from the direction of the man, who ran approaching. She looked up.

"I'm sorry; my father told me not to speak to strangers."

The man went red as a beet. "Oh. Sorry, I won't bother you further." He turned to walk quickly away.

"Sir!" Ginna called. He stopped and turned. "If I will be serving you regularly, I should at least know your name."

"Oh. Yes. Garrold." He winced. "I mean Harreth." He winced double hard and shook his head furiously. "No! I am called Harreld." If before he had seemed beet red in the face, now he was three shades more crimson yet. "Good day." He turned to leave again.

Ginna felt a blush creeping through her own cheeks looking at the poor man. Was there any way she could make him feel more comfortable? "Please, and what of the man who had been beside you on the table, whom I can only assume is your twin brother? Surely I will be serving him as well?"

Harreld scowled. "He is called Garreth. Yes, he is my twin. He is -" He paused, seeming a bit reluctant to talk of him. "He is - quicker to speak than I." He paused again, his face working in some emotion Ginna could not discern. "He speaks too quickly sometimes."

"What do you do?"

"We're smiths." And without warning, he placed his hands on the water-filled jar left on the ground between them.

"What are you doing?" Ginna asked politely, with a hint of shyness in her voice.

"I will carry it for you, if you don't--"

Ginna had placed her hands on Harreld's, and she felt them loosen their grip on the jar at her touch. She saw Harreld, blushing more heavily than ever, look at her bandaged hand.

"B-but--"

Ginna took advantage of his loosened grip and gently pried off his fingers from the jar, placing hers on where they had been. Effortlessly, it seemed as she ignored the pain, she lifted the jar. Harreld gaped at her.

"Don't worry about me, Harreld, I'll be fine. Maybe you should go back to the Hall; your brother might be waiting for you."

She turned and walked back to the kitchen, her hair lightly swaying behind her.

Folwren

02-24-2007, 03:05 PM

Thornden arrived rather late to the dinner table. He had been long with the books, running over the figures of money coming in and out. He had set to the job early that afternoon and had finally come to the end of his task. He quietly got his serving from Modtryth and went to take a seat.

He had hardly begun to eat his meal when Javan and Léof came in through the door together. They went and received their food and as they came back, he called to them and waved them over. As they took their seats opposite him, he asked them how their day went.

“I enjoyed myself,” Javan said at once. “We got to brush the horses a lot, though we didn’t have much time to excerisize them.”

Thornden nodded and glanced at Léof. “Was he much help, Léof?”

Firefoot

02-25-2007, 03:35 PM

Léof was only too grateful when Thornden waved them over to sit with him as it saved them from any awkwardness that might result from sitting too near Lefun and Ritun. Léof was not at all eager to repeat the morning’s experience, which he felt had ended only slightly better than it had began. He had briefly glanced over at them again as he followed Javan to meet Thornden and nearly shivered. He couldn’t help it – even if they were friendly, they (he supposed he ought to think of them in the plural) looked too much like something that would count for a monster in a children’s tale. He could just imagine it: the red-eyed two-headed monster that ate babies out of their cradles… Now that was absurd, and Léof felt guilty for even thinking such a thing. They could not have helped the circumstances of their birth any more than he could… but the thought wouldn’t go away.

Now he turned his mind to the conversation at hand, just as Thornden was asking, “Was he much help, Léof?”

Léof nodded slightly. “He was – or at least, he will be. He has a few things to learn first, but at this point I’d say that the arrangement will work out well. I’m still trying to figure out his skills – such as, I told him that sometime this week we would go out riding. We’ll see.”

Folwren

02-26-2007, 01:26 PM

“That’s what I can’t wait for,” Javan said, beginning to shovel the food into his mouth. “He said that after he sees if I can handle the horses I’ll be able to do more.” That wasn’t exactly what Lèof had said, but Javan had probably forgotten. “He also said that we might be able to teach the horses how to jump.”

“I did not say that!” Lèof cried, stopping with his hand midway between his plate and his mouth to look at Javan.

“Well, I think you were going to, before that girl screamed and we ran out to see what was wrong,” Javan said, looking sideways at him as he continued to eat.

Thornden looked from Javan to Lèof and back. A small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth as he saw the mischievous glimmer in Javan’s eye. Of course Lèof had not said anything like that. At least...Thornden hoped he had not. But Thornden did not think that his brother would let it rest. He did not know Javan extremely well, but he knew him well enough to know that the boy loved adventure of any sort. He’d have to watch him and make sure that nothing dangerous or damaging happened.

But jumping the horses was not really Thornden's concern or business. He would say nothing, until Lèof had answered, and only do so then if Javan made another contradiction or argument.

Firefoot

02-28-2007, 04:11 PM

“No, I wasn’t,” Léof replied firmly. “It’s not a good idea, Javan.” He glanced over at Thornden, who thankfully did not seem to be taking Javan’s rendition of what Léof had said seriously.

Javan was frowning and there was a stubborn set to his jaw. “But - ”

“But nothing,” Léof cut in. “We aren’t jumping the horses.” He hated to sound so harsh, but why had Javan had to bring this up again? Léof had thought it was settled. And now, to start the argument in front of Thornden… Léof still did not feel so secure that he was above wanting to make a good impression on Thornden, all the more so when it was his brother they were talking about. If not for Thornden’s presence, Léof might have softened his words with a, “maybe just a small jump,” or “some other time.” It did not help, either, that Javan was starting to act like a spoiled child, in Léof’s eyes. In truth, if Javan would just accept it, Léof would readily change his mind if there didn’t see any reason not to. It probably wouldn’t matter, though, and this would all blow over, Léof hoped. And Javan had seemed at least responsible enough not to do anything reckless or stupid. Maybe Javan would even forget about the whole matter.

Lhunardawen

03-01-2007, 01:55 AM

Ginna found Frodides alone in the kitchen when she returned from the well.

"Where's Modtryth?" she asked as she put down the heavy water jug on the table, much to the relief of her wounded hand. She quickly checked the bandage. It was still in place, and without a trace of blood she was relieved to find. There was only the throbbing.

"In the Hall," the cook replied, placing a tray of freshly baked bread beside the jug, "serving those who have just arrived. What took you so long? You know we need your--"

She looked up just in time to catch Ginna letting go of her bandaged hand. Concern flooded out her preoccupation. "Your hand bled again? Well it was my fault for--"

"No, no," Ginna interrupted, holding out her palm to Frodides. "It just hurts a little, but I'm fine." She answered her questioning glance with a smile, then reached out for the tray in front of her. Frodides did not seem reassured.

"Are you sure you'll be fine? I don't mean your hand," she added when Ginna opened her mouth to speak. "The twins are out there."

Can she read minds? Ginna wondered. She had just been hoping (in vain, she knew) that Garreth and Harreld would no longer be in the Hall when she went out there again. Or perhaps Frodides saw her and Harreld and heard their exchange? Her heart skipped a beat at the thought.

Frodides seemed to have seen the puzzled expression on her face. "Lefun and Ritun," she elaborated. Ginna thought for a moment, then laughed - half at the memory of that morning's events, half in relief.

"It was just an initial shock. What happened this morning should be enough to teach me not to be frightened by them."

The cook smiled. "I better not hear that bloodcurdling scream again, then." She turned her back on Ginna, bowl in hand. Ginna left the kitchen carrying the tray of bread, and met Modtryth who was on her way back. "I'm sorry," she whispered to her, and the older woman smiled and waved it off.

Apart from Lefun and Ritun and the hobbit who was with them earlier that day, there were three other new people on the table: Lèofric, the ostler whom Ginna met that morning, a younger boy, and another man. Surely there are more females in this household than I've yet seen? Ginna thought. She caught a glimpse of Harreld staring down at his empty plate as though in a daze, and his twin Garreth was talking - or trying to talk - to him.

As she approached the table, Ginna took a good look at Lefun and Ritun, and was quite surprised to realise how quickly she grew accustomed to their appearance. They were no longer frightening, nor even half as strange as they seemed at first. The hobbit noticed her and scowled a bit; his companions followed his gaze. Ginna gently placed the tray in front of them, fighting down the blood rising to her cheeks.

"Good evening, Master Hobbit, Lefun, Ritun," she said loud enough just for them to hear amidst the scattered chattering. "I'd like to apologise for what happened this morning. Honestly, I meant no offence, and I promise it would never happen again."

Folwren

03-02-2007, 10:20 PM

Thornden understood the situation entirely. The smile grew larger on his face and he looked down as Léof almost glared at Javan for a brief instant. But the ostler looked away almost at once. Thornden knew Léof well enough to know that he didn’t like giving such an absolute and hard no. Thornden glanced at his brother swiftly. Javan wanted to press his point and Thornden knew that it wouldn’t be nice of him to do so.

“Javan,” he said abruptly. The boy looked at him. “Léof has said no and you need to take that as your answer.”

“But-” Javan said again and even when Thornden looked a little harder at him, he still went on, but in a softer, more pleading of a tone. “It won’t hurt anything, Thornden. Please talk him into it.”

“Absolutely not. I have nothing to do with the horses here. You have been put under Léof’s authority in the job of keeping the horses and the stable, and you’re going to obey him without question.”

Javan shut his mouth and looked away. He didn’t feel like questioning his brother just then. Not when there was a hint of fierceness in his voice over the matter. He decided that it would be best to leave the idea of jumping the horses alone, at least for a while. He comforted himself with the thought that there would be other interesting things to do.

And with new ideas springing up in his mind, he set again to eating his supper. After a few bites, though, a new subject jumped to his mind. He leaned forward towards Thornden and half whispered, “Have you me those fellows over there?” He nodded his head towards Lefun and Ritun. Thornden scarcely moved his eyes in their direction and he positively scowled at Javan.

“Yes, I’ve met them. Sit up and be civil.”

“But are they…safe?” Javan hissed back.

“Lord Eodwine would not let anything unsafe in the hall,” Thornden muttered quietly, giving Javan an annoyed glare.

“He might have jumped in over his head this time,” Javan said, sitting back and returning to his meal. Thornden deemed it wise not to answer. “What do you think, Léof?” Javan asked after a momentary pause.

Firefoot

03-07-2007, 05:00 PM

Léof hesitated. He did not like being dragged into this disagreement between Thornden and Javan, and he did not know which was a more uncomfortable topic: jumping the horses or Lefun and Ritun. “Well, maybe…” said Léof. But when Javan seemed to take this as an agreement and about to tell Thornden so, Léof hastened to add, “But they could hardly help the way they were born. I think you ought to listen to your brother and trust Eodwine’s judgment. I highly doubt that the Hall is in any danger."

With that he returned to his meal, brooking no further discussion and hoping he could finish his plate in peace. The conversation could hardly get more touchy after all this.

Kath

03-12-2007, 12:58 PM

Kara thought over Náin's answer carefully, feeling almost ashamed that she knew so little of the history and beliefs of his race. Even the words he used were foreign to her, and she marvelled that those words hadn't changed since the dawn of time when the tongue of her own folk changed with mere location. She wondered how much of his history Náin would be willing to share with her, for if it was all as intriguing as the little she had just learned she would be an eager student. But for now her thoughts were still concentrated on the question at hand.

"Why then do you choose to be friends with a human? What makes you decide that the friendship is worth the pain of the loss?"

Náin paused once again before answering Kara. Deep questions were worthy of equally deep answers, and as they were also questions he had not truly asked himself, he was not quite certain of the answer he could give.

"I am uncertain if you are referring to myself or to the entire Dwarven race," he said, stalling somewhat as he pondered the question. "If you refer to my entire people, I suppose it is unavoidable. The Lakemen have a saying that I have heard that no man is a puddle, by which they mean that we are all bodies of water joined by rivers and streams. We all have contact with ours. And this is as true of races as of individuals.

"For us Dwarves it began as simple practicality. We are poor farmers, and men were poor craftsmen. The situation has changed little. We continue to live most closely with men who provide us with food and whom we provide with goods of a quality they could not provide. And we are allies together in face of a greater enemy."

Náin was looking in Kara's direction, but his eyes did not seem to focus on her, as if they were looking far over the many leagues to the Lonely Mountain and his father's home.

"Though the relationship of Dwarves and Dalemen is mutually profitable and respectful, I would not say that many Dwarves have forged friendships with many Dalemen. Few of our race befriend those who are not Dwarves, and only then when they feel it merited. We give our loyalty only after serious thought, but it is then given for life."

The answer was thoughtfully given, yet Kara didn't feel to have gained a reply. Mutual need might give rise to alliance and even acquaintance, but friendship? She didn't think so.

"But what about you? Have you ever made friends with a human. Given them your loyalty?"

Dwarves do not generally flush in a perceptible way, due to their ruddy complexions, but Kara was almost sure that Náin got a touch redder. Náin, of course, had realised that he was talking to a human.

"Never before I came to Rohan," he said, clasping his hands behind his back as if he didn't know what else to do with them. "But since I have arrived... I am not sure. I had always assumed there was some special moment of change from mere acquaintance to loyal friendship. Now, I think I have learned better. There is no perceptible moment when a block of marble becomes a statue and ceases to be a block of marble."

Náin, who had generally been avoiding Kara's face, now looked her squarely in the eyes.

"I would be proud if you might call me such a loyal friend," he said, his often wavering and tentative voice as steady as the hills. "You have treated me with kindness, patience, and respect, and I would fain be able to return that as I might."

Kara was struck speechless at the unexpected and entirely flattering gesture. Her questions had come from mere curiosity, not any desire to discover whether Náin thought she was a friend. She wondered for a moment whether what she had said had caused Náin to feel that he had to offer her his friendship, but as she looked down into his serious face she realised such a suggestion was foolish. If she had learnt anything so far that day it was that Dwarves do not say things they do not mean. A smile graced her face as she finally found her voice and replied.

"And I would be proud to call you a friend, Náin. It is an honour to be regarded so highly that you would want me as one, and I will try to be worthy of your faith."

The Dwarf bowed his head in the shy manner that Kara had become used to, making his next words muffled, but still causing her smile to widen further.

"The honour is mine, and I have no doubt you will be a good friend."

"Well come then!" Kara said, pushing off the stone wall she had been leaning against. "Let us take lunch as friends so you don't have to carry that basket around all day."

It seemed that Náin was not averse to the idea, and the two sat by a small stream running through the midst of the old ruins, happily munching on all that Frodides had packed for them. It didn't take long for the meal to be finished, but as Kara stood to pack the basket again she realised that they must have spent more time out than they thought as the sun was already beginning to set.

"I'm sorry Náin, we might have to cut the journey short a little or we won't be back until long after dark."

Náin nodded gravely, and took a last glance at the ancient Gondorian ruins about them. They had not belonged to a fortress or great palace, but to a less grand, but equally enduring, homestead. The Dwarf thought it likely that this had been the main house of a large country estate, probably handed down in the same family for centuries. When had it finally been abandoned? In which invasion had the last son of the family failed to return? Which disease had driven the last settlers away?

"It has been a good day," said Náin. "I do not think it necessary to prolong it. And I would not keep you out past sundown. Though I think you have little to fear in my company, I would not deprive you of a full night's rest."

Kara laughed, mystifying Náin who had seen nothing amusing in the suggestion that there might be unsavoury sorts out to menace them, but the Dwarf said nothing, and took the basket from Kara. He had long since learned that humans laughed easily, and was no longer much concerned by it.

Sure that Náin had no inkling that her laughter had less to do with the idea that something might attack them but rather more to do with the other possible connotations of his words that she was sure Frodides would join her in a giggle over, Kara happily began the journey back to the Hall. They walked fast as the light was already almost gone, but it was still fully dark by the time they arrived. Seeing that the front doors were now closed they made their way around to the kitchen door, which always stood open until Frodides retired for the night, and slipped through it into the warmth.

"Ah!" Cried the old cook, catching sight of them at once. "I was wondering where you'd got to. How was your walk? And your lunch master Dwarf, was that acceptable? There are some who would have seen you go without it!"

Náin's brow wrinkled a bit.

"I do not take your meaning," he said. "Do you mean that someone wished to prevent us bringing lunch wiht us?"

It was a bit peculiar to consider, but Náin was more comfortable with Frodides than with most denizens of the Hall. Perhaps it was that her no-nonsense approach to things was more Dwarven than most. The look that Frodides gave him, however, was completely incomprehensible to the Dwarf, for some reason.

Unsure as to whether Náin honestly believed there was some conspiracy afoot that intended to stop people having lunch or whether he was, in his own way, joking, Frodides gave him a hard stare and gave in.

"Well, never mind. You had it and that's enough. Now then, I suppose you've noticed the rest of the Hall has already put themselves to bed - are you going to take some supper before you do the same or have you tired yourselves out enough for one day?"

Both Náin and Kara replied that they would in fact go right to bed, having eaten lunch late and not yet being hungry again.

"Alright then. Off with you." Frodides said as she shooed them out of the kitchen, blowing out the lamps as she went. "There are some new bodies around that'll need introducing but that can be done in the morning. Goodnight!"

And she disappeared before Kara had time to question her.

"Do you think she means new guests?" She asked, casting a quizzical look at Náin who simply shook his head in matching confusion. "Oh well, we'll find out tomorrow I suppose."

Standing now at the top of the stairs Kara was overcome by a wave of shyness. The day had been pleasant and she had greatly enjoyed learning so much about Dwarves and Náin himself, yet now she wasn't sure what to say.

"Umm, I - thank you," she began haltingly, "for a nice day out I mean. It was a lovely way to spend my day off and we must finish the walk one day. So, um, thank you and ... goodnight!"

Turning on the spot she headed to her room at a pace not quite fast enough to be called a run, but close to it, leaving Náin standing in puzzled silence.

Kath

03-12-2007, 01:00 PM

The inhabitants of the Hall awoke the next morning to an emptier house than was usual. The Lord Eodwine was nowhere to be found, and nor were the newcomers Lefun and Ritun. Even the little troublemaker Falco had seemingly disappeared. Those who came in for breakfast looked toward the empty table at which Eodwine usually sat with confusion, and it wasn't until a brave soul dared interrupt Frodides at work that the reason for the absence of so many was discovered.

"They're on a day trip." Was the snapped response to the query. "Eodwine wanted to see this place the twins have been living in so off they went this morning to have a look at it. And that Falco went along too. Not invited as I recall but he does have a nose for interesting happenings. Out you go now," she finished, forestalling any attempt at further questioning with a thinly veiled threat, "or there'll be no breakfast for you!"

The news spread fast, and by the time the last regular had arrived in the form of little Leodern asking to see her new friends there wasn't a soul who didn't know that the lord of the Hall was gone for the day. Only time would tell whether the place would burn to the ground without him.

Hama Of The Riddermark

03-12-2007, 01:03 PM

Edoras came into view slowly, for neither the rider not the horse had a great deal of strength left for haste. He lifted his head slowly, and the barest traces of a smile cracked upon his wearied face. He was home at last. He had come back to Eomer, as he had promised he would.

The hard campaign against the outlaws in the Westfold had taken more than he could have dreamed out of him. His force had been ambushed, destroyed utterly by the villainous cutthroats of the wilds. He, as a general, had been taken captive. He had been tortured for many weeks, subjected to the most appalling pain, but he had not broken. It was not in his blood to do so. Eomer had entrusted him with a mission, and he would die before he broke his word to the king.

His horse clopped slowly up the long path towards the gate, and the rider lifted his head to see the banners of Rohan flying proudly in the wind. All was not lost, then. He had not escaped for nothing.

For escaped he had, one night, when the outlaws were roaring drunk, he had cut his bonds on a sword they had carelessly left lying by his bed. He had taken up the sword, dressed himself once more in his general’s armour, for they had kept it as part of the ransom on his life. Roaring a war cry, he had fallen upon the drunkards like the wrath of Helm Hammerhand himself. Drunk as they were, those that escaped his sword had fled. Exhausted, he had saddled one of their horses and started his ride for Edoras and King Eomer.

The sentries on the watch were struck dumb as they saw him approach. They had doubtless though him long dead, but with an almighty cry of “Open the gates!” they swarmed to let him in. He smiled, genuinely this time, the first smile to cross his lips since many weeks ago. He rode his horses slowly up the streets, dismounting in front of the Meduseld and walking creakily up the steps to it. The guards stared rather indecently at him, and when the doors opened, he was relieved to see a familiar face come out of them.

“Haleth…” he spoke, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

“You…are the luckiest…how…we all thought you were…”

“I know, old friend.”

“You look terrible.”

“I know.” He said, his face splitting into a grin. He drew the man into his arms and embraced him like a brother.

“Tell the King I have returned, Haleth. Tell him I have survived.”

“I will, old friend, but you should get yourself to the inn. You look like you could be blown away by a gust of wind. Get some food and ale in you, clean yourself up…The King will not object, I am sure.”

“I will. Thank you, Haleth.” Embracing the captain once more, he descended the Meduseld steps and made for the inn. He felt dead on his feet, and he desperately needed a drink. People stopped and gaped in the streets as he mounted his horse and set off towards the Mead Hall. The whispers caught on the wind made their way to his ear and he smiled again, as though making up for lost time. The words lifted his spirits more than he would ever speak.

“General Hama has returned…”

Beating the familiar path to the door, he pushed it open weakly, stumbling slightly as he walked in he was very glad to find the comfort of a chair. Reversing it, he sat down at the table and called for a drink.

“A pint of the house, please.” He said, audibly.

Folwren

03-13-2007, 11:37 AM

Javan was once more the first one out of bed and away to the stables. He was up almost as early as he had been the previous morning. He dressed quickly and silently and went out. Lèof was up before him again, but this morning, instead of cleaning out a stall, Javan found him saddling a horse.

“'Morning, Javan,” Lèof said, “Go in and get Falco’s pony’s saddle. It’s the smallest one in there.” Javan almost stopped to ask him why they were preparing horses so early for riding, but he stopped himself before speaking and turned to obey first. As he came out with the saddle in both arms, he asked.

“Why are we getting the pony ready? And that horse? Who’s riding out so soon?”

“Lord Eodwine and Falco are going with the twins somewhere. Hurry up and saddle the pony. He’s ready.” He nodded towards the little horse as his hands busied themselves on Flíthaf’s girth.

Together, they finished preparing the horses for riding and then led them out. Eodwine and Falco with Lefun and Ritun were coming out of the hall. Eodwine quietly thanked them and took the reins. The two boys watched the company of four leave the courtyard before turning back and setting to work in the stables. After perhaps an hour, they heard the sound of hooves in the courtyard. Javan was closest to the door and he dodged outside to see who it was.

The man mounted on the horse slowly brought his steed to a stop. Javan hurried forward to take the reins and hold the horse still while the man dismounted. Javan looked silently at him with wide eyes, for he moved slowly and painfully.

“Thank you, my lad,” the man said. Javan nodded and offered a small smile. The man smiled back briefly and then turned to go into the hall. Javan took the reins down from the hore’s neck and led him into the stables.

“Lèof! We’ve a new horse to tend to!”

---

Thornden

Thornden awoke alone in his room and went down to breakfast. He was not surprised when Eodwine and the other three were not at the hall. Eodwine had told him the night before that he would be leaving early.

Thornden got his breakfast together and went out to take a seat. He ate alone that morning, and he ate quickly. He wanted to check on Javan that morning to make sure that all was well. As he had lain on his bed the previous evening, trying to sleep, he had thought more of the conversation that had taken place at the dinner table. Perhaps the short disagreement that took place there meant more than it first appeared. Were the two boys getting along together? Was Javan too much of a burden to Lèof? Was he too young for the job? These were questions he would have to ask Lèof.

He had scarcely finished eating and was just rising from the table when a new figure entered from the main door. Thornden looked up at him and nodded in greeting. Something about the man’s face told Thornden that he knew him, or at least recognized him. But his name...?

“A pint of the house, please,” the man said as he seated himself.

Thornden nodded and at once moved to fetch it, taking in his breakfast dishes as he did so. A military man, obviously. Thornden had seen the weariness about the man. But even with that weariness he carried himself with that unmistakable uprightness of a soldier.

“Fordides, we have a guest,” he said, as way to explain his appearance in her kitchen. “He wants a pint of mead.” Fordides silently filled the order and handed the mug to Thornden to carry out. Thornden took it mutely and hardly saw her.

Why was he thinking officer? Captain. . .General. . .General. . . Thornden entered the hall again and looked up at the worn face, the bright eyes looked up at him as he entered and Thornden dearly dropped the cup. General Hama, of course! Of course? More like, of course not. How could it be? Thornden had only seen him once or twice and that was over a year ago while he was still part of the guard. Since then, their paths had never crossed, except when Thornden saw him ride out with his company of men. Then, he had been missing for weeks, perhaps months.

Thornden placed the full mug on the table before the general. “Sir,” he said quietly as the man reached for the mug. “Will you need anything more?”

Taralphiel

03-16-2007, 09:49 PM

Lys woke and with his now comfortable slow care dressed in his simple slacks, tunic and boots. One he had to keep loosely tied to fit the tight bandage on his lower leg. Now the pressure of the fabric was more to steady his weak bones. With a quick stretch of his arms and a small grunt, he heaved his unsteady limbs up and made out for breakfast.

Lys was hopeful he would see Thornden today. He had kept himself away from the Mead Hall yesterday, visiting Hrethel. In his keenness for something to do, he had joined the healer and helped him through the day. Lys did not mind helping Hrethel lift smaller things, cleaning thick clay jars for storing herbs, and dusting and caring for his wide collection or scrolls on his craft. Hrethel had also taken the time to check over Lys’ progress. His chest and ribs no longer ached, the damage to one arm was never really cause for concern and now was completely healed. Hrethel tutted over Lys’ right ankle, and suggested then that the boy wear the bandage, at least for pressure. He had the foresight to provide Lys with boots laced low so he could adjust for the extra space the bandages warranted. Lys had thanked the old healer with a warm hug at the generous gift, but the old man shook his head at suggesting any of it be repaid. His help every now and then with keeping his work in order was enough.

Hrethel had also observed, and given him some helpful advice on what he might do around the Hall. Armed with this and Thornden's agreeance for him to start lessons, Lys was determined to be helpful in his own way.

Lys spotted Thornden, but seeing him attending to his duties, he chose not to disturb him. A man, looking newly arrived with obvious signs of travel, sat at a table as Thornden brought him a pint. Lys did not recognise this man, but wondered at his dress. Obviously this person did not travel for trade or even leisure. Lys coloured at how rude he must seem, staring at the man who was clearly a soldier. He turned away, hoping nobody had seen his rudeness.

Lys finished his meal, and seeing that Thornden was otherwise busy, he headed for the stables. Lys admitted his curiosity, and hoped that maybe Javan or Léof would be able to tell him who the newcomer was.

Firefoot

03-20-2007, 04:13 PM

“Untack him and walk him out,” Léof called. “I’ll be there shortly to help brush him down.” There were only two more stalls that needed mucking out, and now another would need to be bedded down for the new horse. He finished these tasks up quickly enough and found that Javan was just tying the horse in the aisle. Léof retrieved the bucket of grooming supplies and was just about to join Javan when Lys walked into the stable.

“’Morning, Lys,” said Léof, waiting and then falling into step beside him. “What’s new?”

“’Morning, Léof. I was hoping that you or Javan would know who the newcomer was. Thornden was talking to him inside, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“I’m not sure; Javan talked to him,” answered Léof. “Javan!” Javan turned his head as they made the rest of their way over to him. “Did the man give you his name? Lys wants to know.”

Folwren

03-21-2007, 09:02 AM

“Javan!” Lèof called out as he and Lys approached. “Did that man give you his name? Lys wants to know.”

Javan tugged the knot tight and patted the horse’s neck. His fingers absently brushed at the brown hair, caked as it was with the dirt that had mixed the sweat and caked stiffly around the hairs. “No. He didn’t give me his name. All he said was, ‘Thank you, my lad,’” Javan dropped his voice to imitate the General’s. “And then he went in. Sorry, can’t help you with knowing who he is, Lys.” He smiled and reached for one of the stiff brushes that Lèof had just brought in. “He’s caked with old sweat and dust, Lèof,” Javan said, taking the brush to the travel worn horse.

“Guess who else we saw this morning,” Javan said with some importance to Lys. “It was before anyone else was up."

Taralphiel

03-22-2007, 04:50 AM

"No. He didn't give me his name. All he said was, 'Thank you, my lad,'"

Lys grinned at Javan's impersonation, it was very good. His curiousity would have to wait. It was not so bad, Lay had always liked being in the stables. He had not the strength to keep up with the rigours of the work, but he considered Javan and Lèof the closest thing he had to real friends.

Lys idly scuffed the toe of his new boot around the hay a little. He looked up at the horse, and the careful attention Javan was giving him. Javan's comments were certainly correct. The horse looked as if journeys had been long and trying on him. But he also looked like he bore it with experience. Lys smiled and approached the beast shyly. Javan looked up and smiled.

"Guess who else we saw this morning. It was before anyone else was up."

Lys looked back up with a blink. He wondered at the people he had not seen this morning, and where they might go. A small list of faces built up in Lys' mind. But he could certainly put most down to being at work earlier, or out of bed later. Hardly one's off starting an adventure, as Lys immediately assumed must be what Javan had seen.

"Who was it Javan?" Lys asked excitedly.

Folwren

03-22-2007, 08:30 AM

The dried dirt on the horse’s shoulder fell away from under Javan’s brush. It sprinkled down onto the floor in great sheets of brown dust. As he continued to brush, the coat shone back at him with a black, healthy sheen. He pushed the long, thick mane over the neck so he could brush beneath it.

“Who was it, Javan?” Lys asked at his side.

“Lord Eodwine, that’s who it was,” Javan said. “And also Falco and, oh, what’re their names? Lefun and Ritun, too! D’you want a brush to help groom him? Here, you can use this, I’ll get another.” He handed Lys his brush and moved back, allowing Lys to take his place. As he turned towards the bucket of brushes, he saw Lèof taking out the hoof pick.

“May I clean his feet?” Javan asked, his eyes lighting up. “Please, Lèof!”

Lèof shrugged and handed the pick to him. Javan took it with excitement. He had cleaned out a horse’s hooves once before, under the strict supervision of one of his older sisters. That had been some time ago, and though he remembered how to pick up the hoof, how to hold the pick, and which way to clean it out, he did not remember how important it was to approach a new horse carefully.

Lys stood at the animals shoulder, blocking his front hoof. Javan, not wanting to disturb Lys and ask him to move, went at once to the hind foot. His arm reaching out, twined about the leg, and without giving the horse a moment of warning, jerked his foot up.

The black horse snorted with disdain at such treatment. He hopped awkwardly on his second hind foot, and with practiced skill, he jerked up the hoof that Javan held, and then shot it out towards the boy. The horse’s leg shoved Javan away from him, harmlessly, and sent him tumbling down onto the dirt of the floor six feet away.

Taralphiel

03-26-2007, 04:36 AM

Lys dropped his brush and ran to where Javan had taken his tumble. Despite his ankle, Lys offered Javan a hand to his feet. He smiled when Javan took it, and he helped him up.

"Are you hurt?" Lys asked quickly. Javan seemed unharmed save losing some pride to the quick-hoofed horse. Lys took up his brush again and brough it back to the horses coat. He turned his face away when Léof asked Javan if he'd ever cleaned a horse's hoof before. He kept his quiet a while, until the silence made him uncomfortable.

"Lefun and Ritun...they seem very mysterious to me.". Lys smoothed a hand across the beasts strong back and grinned at his second showing of his curiousity in one morning. "Have you spoken to them, Javan? I wish to, but I never seem to get the chance. I must be to slow!" Lys chuckled, and moved his brush methodically to the places that seemed to need it most.

"I also wonder about the man that Thornden says is being kept here. They say he stole a horse. His name is Manawyth. He is very skilled with music...I wonder how he came to be here..." Lys stopped his wondering when he saw Javan looking at him with a smile. Lys blushed.

"I have been held up in a cold room so long. I want to talk to people! Though, I am grateful for the room, as cold as it sometimes is. I wish I could repay Lord Eodwine for his kindness sooner. But I'll find a way soon. Thornden has promised me so."

Firefoot

03-26-2007, 02:39 PM

It happened so fast that Léof almost missed it. Javan had jerked up the horse’s foot and within seconds he was on the ground. While Lys hurried to help Javan up, Léof went straight to the horse’s head to calm him. “Whoa, there, boy, easy now,” he murmured, catching the bridle in one hand and rubbing the horse’s cheek and neck with the other.

By the time the horse was calmed, Lys had returned to the stream of conversation and Javan was back up on his feet, eyeing the horse’s foot and looking ready for another go. “Hold on, Javan,” said Léof. “I need you to tell me honestly: have you ever cleaned out a horse’s feet before?”

“I know how; I’ve done it before!” said Javan, sounding both defensive and abashed. Under Léof’s steady gaze, however, he added, “Well, once.”

Léof sighed internally. “Fine,” he said. “You just have to be careful, alright? Horses are big animals, and you could easily have been hurt just now.” He hated to sound like he was lecturing, even if he was, a little bit. “Now let’s try this again. Walk up to the horse, put your hand on him, let him know you’re there. Then run your hand down to his foot and gently lift it up. Most horses will know what you want by then and let you pick up their feet. The key is not to surprise them.” He watched as Javan carried out the instructions and nodded at him. “Good.” Still keeping an eye on Javan, he walked around the horse to where he had dropped his own brush and began brushing where he could continue to watch Javan. He didn’t want Javan to feel like he didn’t trust him, but it was little mistakes like that which led to problems… he wiggled his toes in his boot – he knew.

A silence had settled over the stable since Léof’s ‘lesson.’ Léof spoke up, trying to ease the mood again. “Sorry, Lys. I hope I didn’t interrupt you.”

Folwren

03-28-2007, 10:53 AM

Javan’s pride smarted painfully under Lèof’s words. The fact that Javan knew that Lèof was entirely right made it worse. The tumble had not hurt very badly. He thought he might be slightly bruised where the horse’s hoof hit him, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about it - it would only give Lèof more reason to scold. The accident embarrassed Javan to no end and he thought he’d never be able to lift his head again before Lèof and Lys.

He obeyed Lèof’s instructions mutely while the ostler told him step by step about how to lift a horse’s hoof. His face was bright red as he bent over his work. The other two said nothing and the silence among them was unnatural.

“Sorry, Lys. I hope I didn’t interrupt you,” Lèof said finally.

Javan dropped the hind foot and looked towards Lys. He hadn’t really been listening to what Lys had been saying. His mind had been stuck on his embarrassed pride. He remembered vaguely the flow of his words, and then his curiosity was peaked at once.

“Say, you and Thornden seem to mention each other a lot. I heard that he found you and brought you in, but what else ‘ave you done to get to know each other?”

Mithalwen

03-29-2007, 02:54 PM

Elfthain Theodmundsson had wandered to the Mead Hall on the pretext of discovering if the rumours of General Hama's return were true. While as he was as curious as any twelve year old boy in the adventures of a hero, any excuse to escape his uncle's house unsupervised for a while would have been welcome.

It was not that he disliked his relatives. He was really very fond of his cousins and his uncle had made great efforts to fill the void left by his father's death, but at the moment no one had any time for him. He did not really expect them to with a new baby expected any moment - but he still didn't see why his mother could not have left him at home, at Upbourn while she came to Edoras to tend to his aunt. He missed the farm, and the horses, and the space. They had been in town only a day or so but already Elfthain felt stifled. So when the cook had told him the news it was an opportunity too good to be missed.

Elfthain was quite tall for his age and as the only son of a prosperous widow his clothes were of good quality and fitted him well - not for him the indignity of hand-me-downs or cast-offs. Since he had left the house without maternal supervision they were worn untidily and his his dark gold hair was as tousled as when it had parted from his pillow.

He had reached the stable yard in time to see Javan's mishap and if anyone had been looking at him they would have seen a mixture of amazement and amusement in his bright, blue eyes. How could anyone in the Mark get to about his own age and not be able pick up a horse's foot? he wondered, forgetting that not everyone had grown up on a farm and had learnt to ride as they learnt to walk. But before any thoughtlessly scornful comment could pass his lips he realised how much he would like the company of boys of about his own age and so it was a diffident lad that ventured across the yard. Anxious for acceptance, his words fell out in a tumble,

"Hello, I 'm Elfthain. Is it true that General Hama has come back alive? And would you like any help?"

Firefoot

04-09-2007, 12:53 PM

Léof turned to face the unfamiliar boy entering the stable. Hama’s return would be news indeed, if it was true. “I have not heard that rumor,” he said. “A short while ago a man came to the Hall, and here is his horse, but we had not heard his name.”

Elfthain’s asking for news had not seemed so out of place, but the offer to help seemed to have come out of nowhere. What was more, Léof doubted that this boy was much older than Javan, and while that did not necessarily mean anything, Léof felt wary of letting yet another person handle the horse, especially one whom he was unfamiliar with. Elfthain did seem rather lonely; perhaps he merely wanted some companionship. “I am not sure that we need any more help, but you are welcome to stay and talk. I am Léof, and these are Javan and Lys.”

Mithalwen

04-09-2007, 03:01 PM

"Can I?", Elfthain answered the youth eagerly, " at home there is always things to do with the horses and the other animals but here - I mean at my uncles's house - there is nothing for me to do... and I just seem to get in the way if I try to help ... but I will try not to get in your way" he added quickly lest his admission cause Leof to banish him immediately.

Having deemed that this wasn't going to happen immediately, at least, he smiled at the younger boys and wondered what he should say. He wasn't used to meeting new people. Everyone in Upbourn knew who he was - or seemed to - had known him all his life for his father's family had farmed that land for several generations. But here Elfthain would have to win friends and respect for himself.

Folwren

04-10-2007, 08:41 AM

Javan looked from the newcomer to Lèof as they exchanged a few words. There was a pause after Elfthain said his last bit and Javan turned his attention back to the horse.

He didn’t know who the General Hama was. He couldn’t remember if he had ever heard of him. Lèof and Elfthain both knew who he was, though, and Javan didn’t wish to show his ignorance before anyone. So instead of asking about Hama, he kept his mouth shut. After a pause, though, and after noticing that no one was saying anything, he looked back towards Elfthain.

“You won’t get in the way,” he said. “But d’you want to sit down there?” He nodded his head to the wooden bench against the wall. “I think we’re about done with the horse here. Where’re you from? Are you staying here long?” As he put the questions to the Elfthain, his sharp, intelligent eyes looked over the boy’s appearance and clothing. His clothes were fine and probably expensive and had they not been worn in a crooked and careless manner, Javan would probably have felt some dislike towards him. But the natural, boyish appearance made up for the unnatural, non-boyishness of the clean and nice clothes, and Javan liked his manner and his kindly and open face.

Javan’s eyes returned to Elfthain’s face, and he waited expectantly for answers.

Taralphiel

04-12-2007, 06:01 AM

Lys watched the boy enter, and smiled as Lèof gave him his name. Javan began questioning him, and Lys found he had nothing to ask that Javan had not already thought of.

Lys slowly sat at the other end of the stall, taking care to keep safe a distance from the horse. He was now more sensitive to its size and strength. He thought about what the newcomer had said, about a General Hama...a General that had come back from the dead. This was all that his curiosity had been craving. Heroic deeds were being called to his mind. He wondered about the General's strength, and whether he could one day be so brave. He would ride out on a great grey horse and find all the memories that had deserted him. He would ride to war and banish enemies! To be brave and strong and able to swing a sword and run, that would be marvellous!

Just as Javan had been, Lys was then found daydreaming, and had not listened to a word that was said after Javan had finished his questions. And he had completely forgotten Javan's earlier question to him.

Kath

04-12-2007, 08:03 AM

Kara awoke late that morning, her eyes not opening until long after the light of the sun fell on them. She lay still for a few moments, enjoying the unexpected sensation of a lie-in, but as she woke up properly the realisation that she should have been in the kitchen more than an hour ago struck her and she leapt out of the bed and into her clothes in a panic. Rushing downstairs she found most of the Hall up and breakfasted, including a man she had not seen before. Had she not been late she would have stopped to enquire about him but seeing that he had been taken care of already she continued on her way.

"I'm so sorry!" She cried out as she entered the kitchen, seeing Frodides was hard at work clearing up the used breakfast dishes. "I didn't realise the time. I didn't mean to leave you to cope with all this alone again."

Grabbing her apron and a clean towel she stationed herself by the sink and started washing up, slightly surprised to find that quite a large amount of it seemed to have already been done.

"Don't fret, girl. If I'd needed you so badly I'd have sent someone along to get you up, but luckily for you I had help from another. Remember me telling you there were some new faces here last night? Well ..."

But before Frodides could finish her sentence the sound of happy chattering came from the doorway leading to the yard and seconds later two people entered the kitchen. The first was Modtryth who nodded to Kara as she came in but the second was a girl she had never seen before.

"Kara," she turned slightly hearing Frodides' voice behind her, "this is Ginna. She's going to be with us for a while as she's to learn wenching. Ginna, this is Kara."

Turning back to the now introduced Ginna Kara quickly dried her wet hands and held one out.

"Then I suppose it's you I have to thank for doing what I should have been this morning." She said smiling at the newest addition to the workers of the Hall.

Lhunardawen

04-14-2007, 04:17 AM

Ginna took Kara's outstretched hand and smiled back.

"It's nothing; I realise you must be tired from yesterday. I have to learn doing this, anyway, and besides, Modtryth here was a big help."

And she really was. Once upon a time Ginna would have stayed late in bed after such a tiring day as the one she had previously. But last night she had a wonderful time chatting with Modtryth that she looked forward to more of the female company she provided, which she had not experienced since her mother died. Modtryth and Frodides had been extremely patient with her, and considerate of her wounded state.

That morning, however, Ginna woke up with her hand feeling better, and so she was able to help with the dishes. She and Modtryth had just been resting a while - with Frodides's permission - when Kara arrived.

"I'm sorry we didn't get the chance to meet last night," Ginna continued. "Perhaps you would like to break your fast with us after we're done?"

littlemanpoet

04-15-2007, 03:14 PM

A single pony came charging into the courtyard from the road, and came to a wild stop just before the stables. Master Falco Boffin dismounted as quickly as he could but fell to his knees in the dirt. A bandage was wrapped around his forehead. A bloodstain stood out just behind his right ear. He scrabbled up and rushed headlong into the stables while his pony stood in one place, breathing heavily.

"Léof! Léof! Ready every horse! The Eorl has need of riders! Léof!"

"Falco!" answered Léofric. "What is the matter? Where is Lord Eodwine?"

"He is back at the ruins, surrounded by outlaws! They tried to pressgang us! Rilef's wounded! Hurry! I'll go round up some riders!"

Off Falco went, heading for the mead hall, his short legs taking him faster than onlookers had thought him capable.

Folwren

04-15-2007, 06:11 PM

Javan

The four boys’ talk came to abrupt halt as both Javan and Léof turned their heads at the sound of hooves in the courtyard outside. The sound stopped abruptly and a minute later, Falco stumbled in through the door, shouting like mad for Léof to get every horse saddled. Léof moved towards him at once, asking what was wrong. From where he stood, Javan saw the bandaged head and he heard the fear and anxiousness in the hobbit’s voice.

“He is back at the ruins!” was Falco’s answer to Léof’s question concerning Lord Eodwine. “Surrounded by outlaws! They tried to pressgang us! Rilef is wounded! Hurry! I’ll go round up some riders!” And with that, he had turned about again and run back out.

“Outlaws! They’ve got Lord Eodwine? Can we go, too?” Javan asked at once. Léof turned back towards the three waiting boys. His face was grim and worried.

--

Thornden

The door burst open and crashed upon the wall behind it as Falco came in, his eyes wide and his face pale. Thornden’s head jerked up and the conversation between him and the general came to an abrupt halt as Thornden unceremoniously leaped to his feet.

“Falco!” he cried, but didn’t get any farther before the hobbit interrupted him.

“Every man that can ride a horse! At once! Lord Eodwine has need of riders!”

A look of confusion crossed Thornden’s face. Eodwine was in danger, that much was clear, and Falco had been hurt as well. Immediate action must be taken, but Falco needed help as well as Eodwine. He turned partially as three women entered the hall from the kitchen.

“Kara, Modtryth, go as quickly as you can and gather all the men about the place. Hurry! You, girl,” he regretted not remembering Ginna’s name at the moment, “run back into the kitchen and tell Frodides to prepare hot water and whatever else she’ll need to fix Falco up.” The three of them disappeared with immediate obedience and he turned towards Falco again. “We’ll go out, but you’re already hurt, and you need to stay here and get your head tended to.”

Kath

04-15-2007, 06:32 PM

Kara had just begun to answer Ginna when an almighty crash emanated from the Great Hall, causing all four women to jump. She, Ginna and Modtryth rushed out to see what had happened, leaving Frodides fuming as she worried over the oven she couldn't yet leave. As the three ran into the Hall they found both a bloodied Falco and an incensed Thornden shouting instructions, with men running across each other in their haste to do as they were asked.

As Kara heard what had happened she found her blood running cold with shock. This kind of thing just wasn't supposed to happen so close to Edoras, and especially not to a man so obviously peaceful as Eodwine. Thornden's loud orders pierced the fog that had momentarily enveloped her and she rushed to obey him, seeing Ginna head back to the kitchen out of the corner of her eye.

As she moved toward the door to find any who might be outside and unaware of the happenings another sound caught her attention, audible even above the chaotic noise of the Hall. Leodern was crying. Glancing around Kara located the little girl sitting huddled up in a corner.

"Ginna!" She called out, trying to make herself heard across the room. Fortunately the girl had just reappeared in the doorway after warning Frodides and caught sight of Kara who waved frantically to keep her attention.

Quickly Kara made her way over to the frightened child and lifted her into her arms. Making her way back across the hall she found herself following in the wake of Falco who was heading toward the kitchen for treatment, despite his attempts to be allowed to go back and help Eodwine.

"Here." She said breathlessly, pushing Leodern into Ginna's arms. "Take her into the kitchen and keep an eye on her. Frodides will have her hands full with Falco."

Not giving poor Ginna, who must surely not have been expecting this on only her second day, a chance to reply Kara headed back across the hall, only hoping she could find Garstan before he panicked about the apparent disappearance of his youngest child.

Formendacil

04-15-2007, 09:38 PM

“Every man that can ride a horse! At once! Lord Eodwine has need of riders!”

Náin looked up from his stonecarving. The Dwarf had been busy since before most of the Hall had risen, reinvigorated by his day of rest, and deep into further projects for the ornamentation of the Mead Hall. A stone lintel over one of the new fireplaces would be well-adorned with motifs of the Mark...

Looking up, Náin saw Thornden rushing to join the exodus of Men set on rescuing their apparently beleaguered lord.

"Are you not coming, Náin?" asked Thornden, slowing down before he left the room altogether, upon seeing that the Dwarf made no move to depart.

"I am a Dwarf, am I not?" said Náin, carefully setting aside his chisel, though making no other move to depart. "I am neither a Man nor a rider, and I shall not become either in the time needed to assist Lord Eodwine."

"Then ride with another," said Thornden. "Lord Eodwine's position is not far, and you could be carried so far with no trouble. You could fight from the ground once we arrived."

Náin laid his mallet aside, and glanced for one long moment at his barely-started project. He knew which task he would much prefer.

"I shall be in the stables momentarily," he said. "I will grab my battle-axe, helm, and mail."

Taralphiel

04-16-2007, 06:06 AM

Lys jumped and yelped, almost losing his seating on a railing when Falco careened into the stable and began to yell. Lys had not met the Halfling properly, but always noticed his warm and inviting face. At this moment Falco's face looked neither of these, and his arm looked even worse. Lys' stomach made an unwelcome turn. He did not like the sight of blood.

Javan immediately made to give aid where he could, and though Léof certainly looked distressed, he was quick to take action. But Lys did not have any way of helping, and knew that he was better out of the way of a horse being rushed on to help Lord Eodwine.

With that jumble of thoughts and his hasty, wobbly hop to his feet from the railing, he again noticed young Elfthain. He could not be much older than Lys, if at all. And he too looked equally helpless in the face of the sudden turmoil.

He spoke softly. "I think it would be best if we are out of the way, Elfthain. Tell me, have you eaten? Perhaps you would like to come to the Hall with me?"

Thinlómien

04-16-2007, 07:45 AM

What a chaos! Modtryth thought. She was glad Cnebba was not in the Hall.

She ran to the new kitchen and found Stigend and Garstan chatting about some changes made to the wall. She rushed in.

"Stigend, Garstan, Lord Eodwine is being attacked by outlaws at the ruins. All men capable of riding are needed at once, you'll get horses at the stables. Hurry!" For a blink of an eye the men stood still, stuck by the news.

"What's happened?" Stigend asked.
"Where's Leodern?" Garstan asked.
"Master Falco came bearing the tidings. I don't know anything more", Modtryth replied, "And I haven't seen Leodern in a few hours."

"Now let's hurry!" Stigend said before Modtryth could.

They all rushed out of the kitchen, to meet Kara. "Garstan, Leodern's in the kitchen with Ginna. She's a bit panicked, but alright", the young cook explained hastily.

Modtryth cast a quick glance around. "I'll go to alert the twins", she said. She turned to her husband. "Take care, Stigend, and don't hurt yourself", she said with a serious voice, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and ran off to fetch Harreld and Garreth.

Mithalwen

04-16-2007, 03:00 PM

Elfthain had just time to say that he lived at Upbourn but was staying at his uncle's, but the sudden arrival of the pony and it's rider meant he had no time to explain that the duration of his stay was dependent on when his new cousin was born and how long his aunt would need the expert attention of his mother. He was not entirely sorry .... the women at the house seemed to forget that childbirth was not a topic of choice for a young boy even though he be the son of a skilled midwife and healer.

And besides he was astonished not so much by the news, which he scarce registered, as the messenger. He had never seen anyone look like Falco before but he had heard enough stories from his uncle and father to know that he was of the Holbytlan like Master Holdwine ...

Amazed and slightly bewildered he answered Lys a little wistfully, " I think you are right .... we will be in the way here" and falling into into step beside the other boy, noticed his limp for the first time. Elfthain realised that though Lys was surely older than him, he seemed a lot less strong ...frail almost. His curiosity was piqued but he remembered his mother saying something about how you could ask about good things but had to let people tell you their sorrows in their own time. So he confined himself to replying to Lys's question.

"I haven't eaten but I don't know if I have enough money" . He felt in his pocket and found a few coins of small value - change from an errand he had run to the market the previous day - and showed them to Lys doubtfully. "I didn't know that I would need any..... but maybe if it isn't enough they would let me get the money later from my uncle Elwin? They might know him". This was quite likely since Elwin was an officer of the King's guard but Elfthain was certain that to elaborate would count as showing off. "Maybe they won't have time to serve food with all this going on... do you know more about what is happening ?"

Firefoot

04-16-2007, 05:34 PM

“Outlaws! They’ve got Lord Eodwine? Can we go, too?”

“I don’t think so, Javan,” answered Léof distractedly as he unclipped the general’s horse from the aisle. That was the first thing – to get this tired horse out of the way and into a stall.

“But why?” asked Javan.

“Start pulling horses out,” Léof reminded him first, then added, “It’s not your place, that’s why.” Léof could think of several reasons, the primary one being Javan’s age. Besides, Léof would not feel comfortable permitting Javan to do something like this – he would want Thornden’s approval first.

But what about for himself? Léof wondered if he ought to ride out as well. He was a skilled enough rider, and probably old enough – Gárwine would probably going, now that Léof thought of it, and they were of an age. But he was the ostler, without any skill in weaponry. What use would he be out there in the wilderness, except to bolster the party’s numbers? Of course, these would be brigands, not soldiers; perhaps no real fighting would be required.

Troubled in thought, Léof set about speedily readying several horses for riding, lugging saddles and bridles out from the tack room and cinching them on the horses as quickly as he could. In this, at least, he was of some real use. There was no time for the brushing that he would normally give a horse before it went out riding. Occasionally he threw out a comment to Javan, but for the most part his concentration was dedicated to the horses, and soon the men to ride them began pouring into the stable.

littlemanpoet

04-16-2007, 08:05 PM

Falco had no idea how many men at arms Eodwine had. He had not made it his business to know such things. After all, Eodwine had it well in hand. Well then, I suppose Thornden must have it well in hand with Eodwine gone. Falco hoped so.

Sitting in the kitchen, with Frodides clucking about like an upset hen with her hutch all abother, and Kara, Ginna, and Modtryth running in and out on this or that errand, he had had time to take stock of his own well-being, or mayhap the lack of it. He looked at his forearm. It had a deep cut on the inside, now swathed in a bandage Kath had given. He hadn't noticed this wound at first. It was beginning to sting. He winced. The cloth was turning red. He gritted his teeth. I am not one to faint at the sight of blood! he insisted to himself.

"How many Men does Eodwine have, I wonder?" he said to nobody in particular. "I can't say as I've seen more than Thornden and Garwine as men at arms. You'd think that in two whole months Eodwine would have found more than that. Where's that Trystan off to? At least Garstan and Stigend are stout and hardy enough to help in a pinch. That Léof, now, he ought to be gettin' a horse ready for himself, if you don't mind my saying so. And Manawyth! That fellow's been slinking about too! Sure he's under house arrest and all, but he's still the Eorl's man for all that!"

No one answered him. "And what about you, Master Falco Boffin?" he said to himself. "What are you doing, sitting here like you're done for? What if it were Master Samwise in your place right this minute? What would he do?" Falco had heard the stories. The Mayor had been a douty warrior in his day, fighting off orcs and that gollum creature, and even that huge ugly spider thing! And here he was sitting in a kitchen, acting as if one of the Nazgul had breathed on him or something. He shook his head and stood up, ignoring the pain.

"Now you stay right there, Falco Boffin!" said Frodides the moment she saw him moving. "You're hurt and you'll only get hurt worse if you go back!"

"Not as bad as the Eorl, I'm sure!"

With that, he left the kitchen and made his way back to his pony.

Lhunardawen

04-16-2007, 08:29 PM

There was no time for Ginna to wonder how so many things could happen in her first two days in the Mead Hall, or to be disappointed that her plans with Kara and Modtryth had been thwarted - or so it appeared. Without hesitation she followed the man's order (she could not remember meeting him, but how could she question an authoritative voice like that?), took a sobbing Lèoðern from Kara, ran about, and now she was back in the kitchen.

Falco had just left again, amidst Frodides's warnings, and now the cook was talking animatedly to herself as though scolding the hobbit. Lèoðern was still crying as she sat on Ginna's lap. The urgency in the air outside could be felt even there in the kitchen.

Ginna had the sudden desire to get up and join the men. It did not occur to her how much danger might be waiting for them, or that Eodwine might be more angered than pleased to see her if she did, or even that the stern-looking man who did not know her name would most likely not let her. A day was too short a time to make her forget how much freedom she used to have, even if that day had been as event-filled as her first in the Mead Hall. She did not care what awaited her outside, so long as she could be there.

She had almost thoughtlessly begun to stand when she felt the little girl's weight on her lap. Lèoðern still had not stopped crying. It brought Ginna to her senses.

"Ssh," she whispered, gently rocking Lèoðern in her arms, "it's alright." Lèoðern quieted down a little, her sobs reduced to sniffles. Ginna remembered that she had asked the girl to take her around the place when they first met, but had not talked to her again since her father took her away.

"Frodides," Ginna looked at the cook, who stopped abruptly to face her, "do you mind if I take Lèoðern for a little walk in the yard? It might make her feel better."

Folwren

04-17-2007, 09:26 AM

In the courtyard things were busy and near being in an uproar. The men about the place had responded well and immediately to the call for help and all were ready and willing to go to their eorl’s aid.

It was not long at all before Lèof began leading horses out from the stables. Javan came behind him, two more in hand, but instead of darting immediately back inside to get more, Javan stayed outside, looking around for his brother. Thornden found him first, and walking towards him, asked quickly, “Javan, aren’t there any more horses?”

“Yes,” Javan replied.

“Then go in and help Lèof get them!”

“Thornden, may I go, too?”

“No,” Thornden said without pausing to think. He turned to walk away, but Javan followed him eagerly.

“Thornden, please! I won’t get in the-”

“This is not child’s play,” Thornden said sharply. “Now get back into the stables and help Lèof with the rest of the horses.” Javan scurried away at once, able to recognize danger when he spotted it and knowing better than to ask again.

Thornden’s mind left his younger brother’s request behind at once. His eyes scanned the courtyard with the men around it. Four horses already had riders either mounted or standing by their heads. Garstand and Stigend were there, as was Gárwine. Even Trystan had arrived in the courtyard, Thornden noted with mild surprise. Nain was there, too. And a moment later, Garreth and Harreld came trotting into the courtyard, heavy hammers in their hands, ready to leave at once.

Before Thornden could go towards them and ask them how they knew to come, his quick eye caught sight of another unexpected figure. Falco Boffin came out into the courtyard. He did not look at all well, but his face was set in a determined sort of fashion as he made his way over to his pony, who still hadn’t moved a step.

Thornden threaded his way quickly through the men and horses to where Falco was, hailing him before he was quite near. “Falco! What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be inside getting bandaged and sent to bed! You can’t come with us,” he said in finish. “You’re hurt and wouldn’t be able to do much good because of it.”

littlemanpoet

04-17-2007, 03:16 PM

Falco eyed Thornden balefully.

"First things first. I went to Manawyth because he's one more man at arms, but he said he's prisoner and won't be leaving his prison grounds. Make of that what you will.

"As for me staying here, you listen to me, Thornden. I'm a guest here, see, and not a hobbit at arms to be told what for by you. It wouldn't matter if you were Eodwine himself! I'd say the same. But enough! This isn't about doing your bidding or not. Eodwine's my friend. I stand by my friends. I'm walking on two feet with no limp. I can use both my arms, and I can see and hear at least as well as you. One thing more. I can move more quiet than any of you!" He gestured in the general direction of the now quiet and gawking riders. "So like it or not, I'm the best you've got for spy. Don't be a fool and try to force me to stay. Now let's not waste any more words on this. Do I have your yes?"

"Let the hobbit come!" yelled Garreth. "He claims he saved the Eorl's life once. Now he can prove it was true!"

Harreld cuffed him on the shoulder and Garreth subsided.

The other riders waited for Thornden's reaction.

Celuien

04-17-2007, 06:52 PM

Garstan's mood was grim as he hurried into the stable to make ready to ride to Lord Eodwine's aid. If only aid from the hall would not be too late.

Before leaving the hall, Garstan had returned his his room to take up his dagger again - the same that he had worn in the not too distant past when he had gone with the Eorl to rescue Linduial from another outlaw band. Life, it seemed, could not long stay quiet near Edoras.

Taralphiel

04-18-2007, 04:22 AM

Lys shyly reached over with a hand, holding it over Elfthain's outstretched palm.

"When I came here I had no money. I still have no coin to my name, and no thought on how to earn it. Lord Eodwine has kept me in his Hall only on a promise I would earn my way. I do not think you have to worry Elfthain..."

Lys' led the young boy towards the kitchens, but found the disruption begun in the stables had spread through the Hall quicker than they could retreat. Lys stood by the threshold to the kitchen, watching the women worry about a crying younger girl. With as much speed as he could manage, he walked into the kitchen and begged their pardon. He explained there was a newcomer in need of a small meal, and acquired some cheese and bread on a platter. Lys' berated himself for the blush on his face as he backed out the door into the Hall - he was still not used to talking to more than two or three people at a time. He felt guilty for bothering them at such a time.

Nonetheless, he took his humble meal back to one of the long tables, trying his best to stay ahead of the able-bodied Elfthain. Lys begged Elfthain to begin and take the greater share as his breakfast had not quite worn away. Lys then remembered to answer his last question.

"I am not certain what has happened. But I am worried. Lord Eodwine is a great man, and he has saved me. I do not know why anyone would want to harm him."

Folwren

04-18-2007, 09:19 AM

Thornden’s frown etched itself deeper in his face and as Falco went on with his fantastic spiel about being a guest, not a man at arms, of being a friend of Eodwine, and able to go fight for him, Thornden's eyebrows drew closer together. It didn’t help his humor, either, when the loud mouthed twin, Garreth, put his opinion into the matter and called to allow the hobbit to come. Thornden scarcely gave him half of an annoyed glance before looking again at Falco.

“I understand your wish to help Eodwine, Falco,” Thornden said as calmly as he could. “But you have helped him already. You have stood by him while you could, and I don’t believe he expects more, not after you’ve been hurt. I don’t think we’ll need a spy, and if we do, I think one of us can manage it. I won’t hear an argument. Falco!” he said, his voice growing sharp as the hobbit opened his mouth to argue, “You’re hurt and I couldn’t stand to see you hurt again. Nor could I face Eodwine if you were.”

He turned his head as he heard more horses being led from the stables. He looked at Lèof and then back at Falco’s determined face. “Lèofric,” he said, turning away from the hobbit. “Take Falco’s pony in and unsaddle him. Put him up and don’t let Falco get him out again. If you’re coming with us,” he added a second later, “give that message to Javan.”

Firefoot

04-18-2007, 02:35 PM

“Yes, sir,” replied Léof, taking Falco’s pony in hand. He guessed by the expression on Falco’s face that this argument would not end so easily as that, but he was not about to get in the middle of it.

He entered the stable just as Javan was walking out with another horse. “I think that’s the last one,” Léof said as they passed. “Javan, after you take him out, I want you to walk out and brush Falco’s pony here.” The words popped out of his mouth before Léof even thought of them, and he realized that Thornden’s parting comment had decided him. He was going to saddle up Æthel and ride out with the rest of them to help Eodwine. He didn’t really want to think of Javan’s reaction to this.

He clipped Falco’s pony into the aisle and left him there for Javan as he fetched his own saddle and bridle. He paused as he passed the shelf where he recalled so long ago placing the knife he had found on the same day Trystan arrived. A knife might come in handy on this venture. He took it and attached it to his belt as he continued to the tack room. He took his gear straight to Æthel’s stall, not taking the time to tie her out in the aisle – something he wouldn’t have done with any horse except her. Æthel’s ears pricked up and she nudged him hard as he entered – she knew they were going riding, and it had been some time since they last had. As Javan re-entered the stable, he stopped outside the stall. Confusion crossed his face. “I thought you said that was the last horse.”

“It was… until I decided to go with them and had to saddle up my own horse.” Léof told himself that he shouldn’t feel ashamed for being able to do something that Javan clearly wanted to and could not.

“How come you can go and I can’t?” demanded Javan.

Léof opened up the stall door and led Æthel out. He swung up on her back – it felt good to be riding – and answered Javan simply, “Because I’m four years older than you are.” Perhaps the response was terser than it ought to have been, but they were in haste, and Léof didn’t have time to argue with Javan. Javan appeared to be trying to think of a response, but Léof nudged Æthel forward before he could say anything. If necessary, he could talk to Javan later – after they had come back.

littlemanpoet

04-18-2007, 02:59 PM

Now Falco was getting angry. Eodwine would hear about this.

"You ninny! Do you know how many outlaws there are? How are you going to find out, walk right up to one of 'em and ask? You need a spy, or at least a scout, someone who can sneak quieter than any stomp-footed Man!" He raised his arm. "Besides, the bleeding's almost stopped."

"Falco," said Thornden, "I've no more time to waste on you. Go back into the mead hall and rest."

Falco scowled. "Thornden, you and I are not done with this! Mark my words!" He took his leave. He noticed that Léof had come out of the stable on his own horse, which left Javan behind; with his own pony. Falco had an idea, but he would not put it into action until Thornden and the rest had left the courtyard.

Folwren

04-18-2007, 08:18 PM

Good! The hobbit decided to give in. There wasn’t much else he could do, after all, with his pony being taken under custody. Thornden turned about and took the reins that Javan offered him. “Thanks,” he said quietly. He looked Javan in the eye and offered him a small smile, but Javan frowned and looked away. It was clear he did not like being left behind.

Thornden quickly mounted up in the saddle and looked around him at the men gathered. Everyone was in their saddle, ready and waiting to be off, bearing what weapons they had. He caught their attention with his sweeping glance and then turning his horse’s head about, he led the way through the courtyard gate and out into the cobbled street. The horse’s iron shod feet rang upon the stones and they clattered down to the gate and out into the open plain.

The way was not far to the ruins. The horses trotted and cantered easily the entire way. Thornden’s mind was busy planning.

Falco was right. He didn’t know how many there were. Nor did he know where they were, or at least where they had been when the four were ambushed. He scowled to himself, thinking that the foolish hobbit instead of arguing with him and telling him that he didn’t know could have at least given him what information he did know!

All Thornden knew was that they were in the ruins, Ritun and Lefun were taken, and Eodwine obviously badly off himself. Anything further would have to be learned as they discovered it. As for plans… They would stop some way away and approach on foot. Go in as quietly as possible and see if they could not ambush the ambushers. Their chance lay in surprise. . .

Kath

04-19-2007, 09:49 AM

Frodides was all in a muddle. Not five minutes had passed since she'd thought that with four of them working in the kitchen they'd soon have everything dealt with and could have a nice sit down. 'Should have known better,' she admonished herself as she heard Thornden's commanding voice coming through from the hall demanding riders to help the Eorl.

Minutes later and half the inhabitants of the place were running through the kitchen, people heading off in different directions without a word as to why. Ginna appeared for a breathless few seconds to tell her of Falco's injury and imminent arrival but even the Hobbit stayed only a few moments to receive a bandage before disappearing again and so she got no information out of him.

Confused and suddenly rushed off her feet Frodides barely listened as her newest charge asked her a question.

"Frodides, do you mind if I take Lèoðern for a little walk in the yard? It might make her feel better."

"You do as you like, girl. Just so long as her father knows what you're doing with her."

Ginna replied that Garstan was aware that she was looking after Leodern and took the little girl outside, leaving Frodides alone in her kitchen, free to worry, grumble and prepare for whatever fate had in store for Eodwine and his guests.

Mithalwen

04-19-2007, 02:29 PM

Elfthain was relieved that he would not need to find his uncle to fund his meal - or still worse his mother, who, nervous of overindulging her surviving child was much stricter about anything that might be regarded as unnecessary expenditure. Elwin was very attached to his sister-son and, acutely aware of the losses the boy had suffered, felt no need to deprive him of anything that might give him pleasure. The source of so many sweetmeats and extra pocketmoney was unlikey to have refused to have bought his breakfast but the timing of the request would not have been the best and thing were getting so interesting here he did not want to leave and risk not being permitted to return.

However he had been humbled by Lys's words and actions. This boy who had nothing had understood all too well the fear of not being able to pay one's way and was trying to insist that Elfthain took the lion's share of the food he had garnered from the kitchen.

Elfthain's first instinct was to refuse Lys is offer but he had wit enough not to act on it. His very temporary lack of food and means had equalled them and he accepted Lys' generosity resolving to repay it with interest as soon as the opportunity arose. Sitting at a little table the physical differences were minimised and Elfthain listened to Lys' reply, though it was hard not to be distracted by everything else that was going on.

Elfthain had heard Eodwine's name before and more than once, but he had never really paid attention. He did seem to be important though and he clearly meant a lot to Lys. He did not know how to reassure the older boy. How could he say that he was sure Lord Eodwine would return when his father had gone with the King and the King of Gondor to fight rebels in the far southlands, and had not returned? Part of him felt that it was inevitable to lose those you cared about and he bit his lip. However he did realise that Lys' admiration meant he could ask the question he really wanted to know the answer to and he spoke with slight hesitation.

"Try not to worry, Lys ... they probably are already on the way to him already". He craned his neck for signs that might confirm his assertion, then lowered his head and asked more shyly, "How did Eodwine save you?".

littlemanpoet

04-19-2007, 03:09 PM

Falco went into the mead hall, passing two lads he barely knew on the way to the kitchen, and demanded an ale from the cook.

"Get it yourself you ungrateful hobbit!" cried Frodides. Her reaction seemed well out of proportion to his words, but that was what it was. Falco shrugged his shoulders, pulled an ale mug off a shelf, then helped himself to a pint from his favorite cask. He took a few minutes to slug it down, during which time he heard the distant rumble of a little more than a half dozen horses departing from the mead hall courtyard. He swallowed the last of his ale, plopped the mug down on the counter, and walked toward the stable.

There he found Javan kicking at straw, scuffing his feet, his hands thumbed into his trousers waist, looking put out.

"Javan!" cried Falco. The boy looked up, and when he recognized him his brows lowered in mild suspicion. "Look here lad, I have need of a pony and you want adventure. Let's help each other out." The boy was about to raise a protest but Falco raised his hand. "I will not be going to the ruin; leastways, not directly. I'm going to Meduseld to give warning there, and to see if they will lend a small company. I've no notion why Thornden didn't think of doing it, but he didn't, and it ought to be done. Will you help me? We can ride together."

Folwren

04-20-2007, 07:30 AM

The plan seemed workable enough to Javan. Léof had not relayed Thornden’s message entirely accurately, but he had done so half way accurately.

“I’m not supposed to get your pony back out,” Javan said after considering for a moment.

"I'm a guest here, young man," said Falco, "and your brother had no call to jail me nor my pony. So he's gone against the Eorl's word in this, see, and you'd be doing no wrong by letting me have what's mine by rights."

Javan looked carefully at Falco and considered the situation a moment. He didn't want to let Falco's pony back out. The animal was tired, and to disobey Thornden and Léof both at the same time seemed to be asking for trouble. But...Javan smiled suddenly.

"I have my own horse! He's little, kind of, and he'll be fresh and fast! I don't want to get your pony back out, Falco, Thornden might get mad at me. But I'll get mine, and you can ride in the saddle and I'll ride behind!" And without waiting for Falco to say anything, Javan darted off to fetch halter and rope to bring his horse out.

In a few minutes, the saddle was on and the horse waiting impatiently to be mounted and off. He was very large compared to the hobbit, though, and Javan had to give him a boost up with his hands, for Falco couldn’t reach the stirrups. Then Javan untied the horse’s reins and put them over the saddle horn. He hurried to the horse’s side and scrambled up beside the saddle.

“Take the reins, Mr. Falco, and we’ll be off.”

littlemanpoet

04-21-2007, 08:46 PM

Falco

Fair enough, Falco thought to himself. The little conniver had more cheek than a hobbit in his tweens. Soon they were off trotting into the heart of Edoras, approaching Meduseld. It was not long before a general disturbance had been wrought on the grounds of the King's hall, and a small cadré of Eorlingas had been rounded up and were galloping down the main road of Edoras, past the Eorling Mead Hall, and out toward the the ruins. Nevertheless, they arrived there a half hour after Thornden's crew.

Falco had decided not to join the cadré, but to trot back east at a leisurely pace. Javan's horse trotted past the Eorling Mead Hall, and Javan questioned Falco as to why they were not stopping.

"We may be needed," Falco said simply.

Eodwine

Eodwine hunkered down in a nettle. He had considered holing up in that circular chamber, but having no bow and arrows, he had decided that his enemies would climb over the top in too great numbers and soon overwhelm him. He had thought of climbing a tree, but he would be no safer than a roosted bird and arrows could reach him, or worse, fire. So he had left the paths and half-paths and forged into the close brush and nettles, and had instructed Ritun and Lefun to do the same. He saw no sign of the twins now. He hoped that Falco had gotten away safely. Eodwine lay low and tried to calm his breathing. Are you being a coward? The stray thought didn't surprise him, but it most certainly did not help at the moment. No! he insisted to himself. This place is overrun with outlaws! There must be at least a dozen! He could hear the heavy thud of feet running hither and yon. It was best to lay low, if he could manage it, until help came; if it came. He hoped Ritun and Lefun were safe.

Taralphiel

04-22-2007, 11:27 PM

The reassurance of the young boy made Lys smile. He did not know how the day would play out, but he was glad he had someone he may count as another friend to spend it with.

"How did Eodwine save you?"

Lys paused and fiddled with the chunk of bread he had set to eating. He did not like telling people what had happened. Lord Eodwine, Thornden, Hrethel and Léof seemed to have kept mostly quiet about his state. All knew a sickly boy resided at the Hall, but few took notice. He still felt uncomfortable and ashamed.

"Lord Eodwine...took me in." Lys said, noting he was being repetitive. "I have been..unlucky I suppose. And Thornden has cared for me also. He is as close to a father as I will ever have."

Lys felt like he was lying but did not say more. He looked up at the boy, wondering what else he might ask. Would it be so bad to tell him everything? He was not certain. Lys decided to turn to another subject.

"And what of you? You said that you have an Uncle? Is he here?"

Nogrod

04-23-2007, 03:42 PM

Garmund and Cnebba messing with things too...

"Garmund, look!" Cnebba sprang up and let his grip loose of the sheep Garmund was shearing.

"Auch! You..." Garmund cut a small wound to his index finger as the sheep struggled itself away. But as soon as he saw what Cnebba was pointing at he froze.

The two boys were following the tiny rider in the distance with their eyes. They couldn't believe what they saw. The truth was just too demanding.

"That's master Falco! He's hurt!", Garmund shouted in the end as if Cnebba hadn't realised the fact already. They both screwed up their eyes to see the riding shape properly.

"Where are the others?" Cnebba asked insecurely. He couldn't hide the sudden fear that had taken over him from his voice.

Garmund and Cnebba had seen the four riding towards the ruins in the distance earlier in the day. They had been particularly jealous of the sight, both for reasons of their own. They had followed the riders keenly enough with their eyes then. But now after an hour or so the feeling was not that of an envy but that of an anguish. Even their young minds realised that something had gone bad.

"Should we..." Cnebba began shakily but Garmund was already on his feet and running.

"C'mon you sissy! I know the place!"

Cnebba followed Garmund through the long grass as fast as he could. He couldn't catch him but neither could Garmund make any more headway to him. Cnebba was soon panting heavily. He just ran without a thought, following Garmund who led the way towards the ruins more than a mile away.

Folwren

04-23-2007, 08:12 PM

Thornden drew rein a little way from the ruin and leaped down from the saddle. The place where Falco had indicated that Eodwine was would be just around that small hill.

“We’ll leave the horses here,” he said to the men, “and go in on foot. We don’t know what is in there and the horses will merely announce our coming. Spread out however you can – the underbrush is thick – but don’t stray too far from each other. Depending on how many there are, our main chance may be in collective strength. But if there are not many, than each of us fighting alone or in pair may be all we need.

“Forward, now. Quietly. Keep your eyes open and yourselves quiet.”

He drew his sword, a thing he rarely bore, and went forward cautiously. The men moved behind him, holding what weapons they had in their hands. There was not a faint heart among them as they advanced into an unknown place and against unknown enemies.

Rounding the shoulder of the hill, Thornden could see before him the twisted vines and underbrush that grew over the old stonework. Trees grew far apart where he was now, and the underbrush was not very thick, but in there it was like a jungle, twisted and tangled, full of hollow pockets where men could hide and lie in wait.

He forged forward, taking the path that he, Falco, and Garmund had taken a few days ago, leading straight into the heart of the ruins. He moved slowly, his body tense with expectation, his ears straining until they hurt with the effort to hear something out of place. His eyes peered forward and to the sides, looking for any sign of anyone.

A stick snapped to his right. He jerked about, just as there was a rush of crackling bracken and leaves. A man flung himself forward upon him and Thornden’s left hand lifted just in time to grasp at the descending dagger. The blade cut his hand severely, but it turned the blow away from his chest. The outlaw stumbled, thrown off balance with the force of his attack. Thornden fell backwards, too, momentarily dizzy with the shock of the impact and the pain in his hand, but by the time the man regained his balance, Thornden had regained his wits, and they turned towards each other at the same moment.

Nerindel

04-24-2007, 10:31 AM

Æðelhild had been up with the dawn and had ridden out to the lower slopes in search of fresh supplies of wild wort and fennel root. The dusty coloured Dun she had purchased a week now passed with the coin Lord Eodwine had been sending , suddenly lifted its head and pricked up its ears as they returned. approaching the golden halls stables there was a foray of noise and a hustle and bustle of both men and horses, a clatter of spears as many armed riders mounted ready to ride out.

“What is going on?” Æðelhild asked as a young stable lad came to take her reigns. “It’s Lord Eodwine of Middle Emnet,” the lad answered hastily as he lead the dun away from the mounting riders to the stable proper. Æðelhild’s eyes widen as the lad went on, “they say he is hold up by bandits in the ruins east of the mid Emnet, they can not say how many harry the Lord, but they seem greatly eager to take their leave and be on the road as soon as we can have horses ready.”

“How come they by such grievous news?” she asked as she dismounted the dun. “ Em a Hobbit what was his name…Fal…to or Falc…ar”

“Falco, Master Falco!” she exclaimed, to this point she had thought the boy mistaken surely Lord Eodwine had not found such trouble , but that the news had come from Falco meant it had to be true she had to find him and find out if Eodwine or any others where hurt. “Keep her saddled I may have need of her shortly.”

By the time she reached the lower steps of the hall the kings riders were all ready beginning to leave, she stopped trying to find the halfling among the riders but she could not see him. Turning hurriedly on her heels she raced up the steps and through the corridors stopping whoever crossed her path asking if they had see the hobbit to had brought news of Lord Eodwine’s misfortune. After finally discovering that Falco head and arm crudely bandage had left behind the riders she made her way to the healers hall.

Hrethel was there with a few others and they turned at her abrupt entrance, watching as she quickly gathered up what supplies she thought she would need. She did not exactly know when she had decided that she was going, but she knew she had to. Falco was wounded and very possibly Eodwine was too, though she hoped not. The riders meant only one thing there would be a fighting and Æðelhild knew that meant her gifts would be needed and whether or not any man thought it would be inappropriate for her to be there she very much intended to be.

“Æðel,” Hrethel asked placing a concerned hand on her shoulder. She turned her face flush and her eyes glistening close to tears, “ I have to go Hrethel, Lord Eodwine is….”

“ I know all about Lord Eodwine’s trouble, word has already reached us of Falco and his request for aid.” The older healer answered gently. “but I am sure the riders will find him, you should stay and let them bring him home.”

“ And what if he is wounded when they find him Hrethel, and how many will be wounded or even die in the finding him ? Eodwine Pays for a healer and I am yet to prove my worth.” Æðelhild’s eyes pleaded with Hrethel to let her go but still he tempted to dissuade her.

“ Lord Edowine sent you here to learn what I can teach and you have learned much Æðel, but there is still much you have yet to learn. I do not believe that Lord Edowine would wish you to ride out even on the edge of battle on the off chance that he may be wounded, no Æðel it is our place to wait and be ready to tend those who return to us. what use are we to those wounded if we end up wounded or worse dead ourselves!”

Æðelhild sighed heavily. What Hrethel was saying was true, but she could not shake the obligation she felt towards Edowine, after all he had given her a roof over her head, food in her mouth and the coin in her purse and perhaps most of all and without even knowing it he had given her back her life… no it was not the grand halls of Gondor or the boar and pheasant banquets of the Gondorian Lords nor even the peacefully tranquil halls of the healers of Minas Tirith , but she felt at home here. And although the trauma’s of her past remained they were but clouded memories, blanketed by thoughts of new beginnings and future friendships. No she could not lose that hope nor the one who had given her that hope.

Realising that she would not persuade Hrethel to let her go she nodded resignedly, “ you are right Hrethel, I apologise for such outbursts, I….”

“Hush, no need for apologies. Such loyalty is to be commended but you will be needed here.” Hrethel replied gently.

“No not here,” Æðelhild answered shaking her head. “It will be to Lord Eodwine’s Hall that they will return.”

Hrethel paused for a moment to consider then smiled, “off course, then you should go. I must remain here, but you should go and be ready for any who should return wounded.”

“Yes” Æðelhild answered with a nod. “And Hrethel I am sorry.”

Gathering up her things she left with the old man considering that second apology. She hated to lie to him, but she knew she could not wait, she would go to the hall but not yet, not until she had found Falco and only then if he could reassure her that Edowine was uninjured. Within Minutes she was again mounting her dun and Galloping through the gates of Edoras in search of Falco Boffin.