[littlemanpoet]

“Everyone, attention please, may I have your attention!” cried Lithor with raised hands. “The morning is spent and the festivities are about to begin, but first our lord has a few words to say.”

I do? Eodwine looked at him, startled, but for only a moment.

"Lithor, maybe you should check your eyes, for the sun is yet two hours away form being above our heads." He grinned. "I am thinking that you are eager to begin the games! Or maybe you want an early lunch! Have you learned a hobbit trick or two from old Falco Boffin?"

"Now that would be telling," Lithor laughed, as did some of the crowd.

Eodwine grinned and looked at each of the people gathered there in turn. They looked at him expectantly, many with happy expressions, as well as the unsmiling faces of Crabannan and Nydfara who did not know him well, and the ever serious face of Naín (or what one could see of it with all that beard). These people were devoted to Scarburg, and most of them to him as their lord. He thought of this frequently, and in private shook his head in wonder that a mere farmer's son should be created Eorl of a realm and given charge over the wellbeing of every man and woman who lived therein. These well rehearsed thoughts passed through his mind in a moment.

"My friends, this day - this hot day-" he grinned, getting sympathetic laughter and groans, "-is a day of celebration. When we arrived here a month ago, expecting an old but well built hall and stables, we found a burned ruin and more than enough work to be done. It seemed a task maybe to great for such a small company to complete before the cold of winter. But our numbers grew thanks to Dan, and Naín, and Erbrand, and Crabannan, and Nydfara, and our will grew with each new willing worker."

Eodwine noticed that Erbrand had arrived just in time to hear his own name, and he nodded toward him.

"In one month we have made a baker-!" he paused, gesturing overhead, "new tents," he paused and gestured between each thing on his list, "a new pen for our beasts ... a new smithy ... a repaired meat shed ... and most important of all we have cleared away the old ruin and brought near the stone and wood we will need to build a new hall. You have done well!" The people cheered. "Yes, there is much yet to be done, but it can wait until the morrow. Today I give you a command that you will play games, feast heartily, take pleasure in the company of these friends around you, and come to the bonfire tonight to enjoy a game of riddles the like of which has perhaps not been heard in these parts in many years." He raised his arms. "Enjoy this day!" The folk cheered.

"And now I turn the games over to trusty Lithor."

Just as he stepped down, he saw Degas and Saeryn coming back from beyond the Scar, apparently having said all that needed to be said. Degas looked happy, but not in the same way as in old times. There was a peace and resolution in his face that boardered on grimness, but not quite - Eodwine doubted that the young man could ever quite get the twinkle out of his eye. But Saeryn was beaming, and positively glowed. Eodwine's breath caught. This was the Saeryn he remembered from a few months ago before things became so strange and difficult. He started to breathe again, and began to walk toward them, eager to learn whatever they might have to tell him.