[JennyHallu]

Linduial ran as fast as she could through the debris, with a speed and agility her usual sedate, graceful manner barely hinted at. She found Aedhel just leaving the undamaged wing of rooms, the basket of herbs and supplies the healer had left for her over her arm.

"We got Frodides out," Lin gasped, "and she's got a cut on her leg. Bleeding and needs wrapped, but I suspect it looks worse than it is."

Aedhel nodded and took off for the kitchen garden without delay, leaving Lin to catch her breath in the doorway. She looked her reflection up and down in a glazed window, realizing with dismay just how unkempt she looked, thankful that Degas wasn't here to see her. Her dress, caked with stone-dust and mud, was certainly ruined, the lovely green color she'd delighted in this morning undiscernable under the mess, and she was glad she'd put on shoes before going out to the stable that morning, or she'd have ruined the light, small slippers she usually wore. Her hair looked more gray than near-black, and she had odd streaks on her face where she'd pushed strands of hair out of her way.

As the main crisis seemed to have passed, and Frodides was sure to be all right, she slipped quietly into her room. She shook out the worst of the mess on her dress (it seemed pointless and time-consuming to change it before the rest of the dust settled) and combed the grey stone-muck out of her hair. A soft cloth and water from the pitcher soon fixed her face, and she emerged into the courtyard feeling much refreshed and more herself, to find Saeryn greeting a bulky man also covered in dirt, but this had the reddish clay hue of road-dust.

The man was dangling a rude golden necklace from work-roughened hands, leering in Saeryn's direction, and Lin, with a sideways sympathetic glance at her friend, walked past haughtily without sparing the man so much as a look, vowing silently to keep her own delicate filagree goldwork under lock and key as long as he remained here.

Ruthven was in Eodwine's way, probably demanding help for Frodides, who by now was probably getting the same from Aedhel, who'd gone the back way around. Eodwine's expression was black as a thundercloud, and Lin wondered at Ruthven's courage to approach him. Degas, Thornden, and Garwine seemed to be rather uncertain of purpose, standing behind Eodwine (and a safe distance away, it seemed to her), and staring around at their home with a certainly disheartened expression. Two young lads were walking a large band of beautiful horses towards the stable behind Léof, who seemed to be walking rather stiffly. Linduial doubted there was room for more than a few of the veritable herd the boys were leading. Falco was leaning against a rock, laughing near-hysterically and holding a mug--Saeryn must have informed him of their rescue of Frodides. And Marenil, dear Marenil, seemed the only one in sight who was his normal self.

He was sitting on one of the larger stones, holding a broken-off piece of wood, with which he was sketching in the dirt, frowning down at his work. Linduial walked to him curiously, carefully stepping around his neat diagrams, and sat down beside him on the rock, looking out over what she immediately recognized as a floor plan of the Hall. Marenil was cheerfully sketching out the Great Hall, and Lin looked at the drawing intently.

"That's bigger." Her tone was inquiring.

Marenil looked up at her with a grin. "Wonderful opportunity, this collapse," he said, looking around at the wreckage. "Look here...all this rock can be used to build a sturdy thick base for the walls, about two feet high. Then Eodwine can build wooden walls, and a high roof, sloped like the Hall in Meduseld, and only a trifle shorter, as Lord Eodwine wills. I would build an open circular hearth in the very middle of the hall, or you could build a huge one on the end, you could do anything, really. I'd build big impressive double doors, and put up carved latticework across part of the hall, about half way down, and split up part of the Hall for the official business of the Eorl, and the rest for the day-to-day comfort of his household. You could put in a cellar for storage, and a door from the residential wing, maybe even a balcony looking over the hall from the Lord's rooms on the second floor, a new door from the kitchen here, and change the way it's hinged so it could open from either way..."

Marenil was drawing excitedly as his mind ran off with ideas, and Lin caught his enthusiasm readily as the two spoke rapidly in their own language. "We could send for stonemasons from home, who'd know how to build a firmer wall or chimney, with mortar. We owe Eodwine a debt anyway. There could be windows all along the top of the walls, almost under the eaves, to let in light and keep it from getting too smoky if Eodwine chooses a central hearth. And much of this wreckage could be reused, though it doesn't look it. You'd need the main beams, and maybe a little lumber, but it wouldn't take too much longer than remodeling the hall was going to already."

Marenil smiled, pleased that Linduial had learned her lessons at his knee so well. "It all depends on what the Lord wishes, of course," he cautioned, "and he may not wish to hear all is not lost until he gets over being angry about it." He indicated Eodwine's scowling face with an elbow, continuing to draw in the dirt, and Lin looked up to see the Lord kick at a rock in frustration, sending it skittering across the courtyard, and she winced.

"He's not being very sensible."

"Lords and Ladies are not any more sensible than anyone else," Marenil chided, taking the opportunity for a little lessonizing. "They get frustrated and angry, they get proud and rude and lazy and far too full of their own importance. Some never bother to use any brains at all, and are no use to anyone. Sometimes Lords and Ladies fall in love just like us common folk, and then they don't even remember what sensible means half the time."

Lin shot Marenil a sharp glance, but, as she had learned was wisest when he took that tone of voice, repeated his words to herself, mulling them over as she studied the rough plan that Marenil had laid out.

"It's almost a pity I'll be going home in a month or two," Marenil said, almost wistfully, startling Linduial. "This is going to take a long time to build, but the Lord here is a good man, and its a worthy endeavor. I'd like to see it done before I die, and Lord Eodwine in a proper home for a man of his stature in the world." The two friends, young and old, fell silent, looking out over the plans Marenil'd drawn in the dust of the ruined hall, and over the years ahead of them.