[littlemanpoet]

Nogrod's post

Stigend had been busy the days that followed. The first days passed at the planning board; one of the tables of the Hall had to serve as one. Stigend and Garstan drew and redrew, discussed and sat in silence. They talked with Frodides and Kara several times a day and every now and then they consulted Eodwine, and Saeryn.

Stigend had made an inventory on the building materials on the second day, making himself familiar with the Mead Hall’s supplies and tools at the same time. There was enough timber to start building, but a lot more was needed. The saws seemed well enough, but the chip axes and framework-drills were rusty and dull. Stigend had his own with him and could start by himself, and the tools of the Hall could be made usable with some care. On the third day they ordered timber and other things needed.

Within a week they had started the actual work, beginning with the kitchen oven and the fireplace. Garstan had designed the oven and the fireplace with the help of Frodides and Kara, and Stigend had designed a firewall to surround them; and came up with a solution of how it should be attached to the wooden wall. Somewhat familiar with masonry and bricklayer’s work, Stigend needed a little guidance from Garstan every now and then.

It was during these days that he became familiar with Náin. He hadn’t met a dwarf in his life before. It was a place of personal reflection and discovery that greatly humiliated Stigend. From the beginning he had been prejudiced towards the dwarf, going over in his mind with all the generalisations people had about dwarves and trying to see them in Náin. It took one visit of a travelling stranger that had given Modtryth a bad look, complaining about the Dunlending rabble around him in a decent Hall, to make Stigend realise his own prejudices.

He had been so happy with this new place whose dwellers had taken Modtryth and Cnebba as themselves, that he had had no need to keep an eye on how others thought of his family. But that way he had also forgotten to keep an eye on his own mind. Now he realised he had begun to think like the people he had despised all his life. Stigend was ashamed. Luckily he hadn’t made any nasty remarks or behaved badly towards Náin. But they had been only fellows at work. There had been nothing else.

After the incident he started looking at the dwarf with open eyes and was astonished with what he saw when he was not bringing all his prejudices along. Náin seemed flexible and friendly enough, but his skills with stone were just incredible. Even though this seemed not to be his real trade – he had heard he was more of an artist – he helped them every now and then and proved to be a real help indeed, able to do many of the things Garstan did. And the grace of the things he had touched! Náin seemed to be able to shape stone into any form he willed, like it was clay.

After the first week they started to have conversations during the work and at the pauses when Náin was around. Stigend appreciated the dwarf and he seemed not to think bad about him either. Even Stigend’s mediocre skills in masonry started to get better day by day.

On the third week the timber arrived and Stigend had to change his focus. Garstan would still have work to do with the fireplace now that the oven and firewall were finished, but the hewing of the logs, and especially preparing the framework, required an experienced hand; so he stuck to the logs by himself. As he had helped Garstan with the easier tasks, Garstan could help him when the time came. And anyhow, as they would start to hoist the logs to their places they would need lots of strong arms to help them.

That was a happy time. There was work that gave him satisfaction and he had been getting on very well with Garstan whom he considered now his friend. And his family was accepted! Stigend and Modtryth were enjoying their new appointments to the fullest. And what warmed Stigend the most was to see Cnebba’s shining eyes every evening when he made minute descriptions of the games and plays he had had with Lèoðern and Garmund.

And Cnebba kept speaking about Lèoðern all the time. Stigend had thought of it a couple of times. Indeed he had noticed a little uncomfortableness in Garmund’s expressions one or two times when he had seen all the three together, but he was too busy with his work to mind much.

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Thinlómien's post

Modtryth was helping the cooks with unloading the newly bought random household goods - such as butter, salt, syrup, honey and herbs, carrying them to the kitchen and putting them to their right places. From the corner of her eye she could see her son running around the yard with his friends.

He looked very happy. He’s probably happier here than any place we’ve been in after Field Marshal Laudwine’s house, Modtryth thought, and that was many years ago. She knew the happiness wouldn’t last for ever – nothing ever did – but she hoped that it wouldn’t end too soon. Cnebba turned and saw his mother. This time, she saw, he was even smiling at her. And so was life.

Modtryth was having a job she liked. She had some kind of a place of trust – achieved only after a short discussion. Furthermore she was doing well in it, at least in her own opinion. And because the Lady Saeryn had never criticised her (except the one shameful time when she bought wrong sort of flour) and sometimes she had praised her for a work well done, she thought that she couldn’t be doing very badly in her eyes either.

Frodides and Kara discussed the evening meal as they worked. Nowadays they were so used to Modtryth that they didn’t mind her being present while they planned, and knew she wouldn’t mind them talking about their own business. Modtryth actually thought it was quite nice to listen their homely everyday talk about the ingredients of the stew.

Sometimes Frodides irritated Modtryth. She had basically interrogated Modtryth about the tiniest details of her life until she had let her be and accepted her as a part of the household. Older women were like that everywhere, and Frodides had a good heart, so Modtryth didn’t have problems with getting along with her. Kara, she thought, was a nice girl, friendly and good company. It would have been difficult not to like her.

“I’ll go and find the children. I know my Cnebba well enough to know that if he doesn’t have food before the meal, he’ll get impossible. I wouldn’t be surpised if that was so with Lèoðern and Garmund as well”, Modtryth said after they were done with all the organising.

"Strange that they haven't yet come looking for food, they must be so caught up in their games they've clear forgotten about eating."

Modtryth smiled. “I’ll go and get them then.” Even before she had stepped out of the kitchen, she heard the two cooks start discussing about the stew again.