[Lhunardawen]

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.