The White Horse Inn, Act III

[littlemanpoet]

"Ah, there you are, lassy!" cried Garreth. Saeryn had just entered the hall. He bent at the waist to bring his eyes down to the level of the girls. "And who might this pretty young friend of yours be, Saeryn lass?"

"Garreth," said Bêthberry with authority, "since you haven't reserved a room as well as board, I'll not have you dallying about in my hallways. Back to the Common room with you! You can greet the lasses in the better light out there."

"But-" Garreth started.

"Get!" Bêthberry pointed back down the hall.

"Yes'm." Garreth turned, shamefaced, and loped back down the hallway to the common room.

"He and his twin brother Harreld are smiths of Edoras. They eat here often, seeing as many lasses have been known to come and go. Those two are ready to marry the next thing in a skirt that comes through a door. So be on your guard, my sweets."

Saeryn winked to Bêthberry as Æòel nodded her head slowly and earnestly.

[Nerindel]

Even as Saeryn and the innkeeper gently lead her towards the inns kitchens she could not help but look back over her shoulder to the door the young man had hastily retreated through, his easily smile and knavish glint had remained her of another, a wane smile pursed her lips as she was reminded of the dark haired lad who’s boyish laughter and mischievous wink almost always meant trouble even if it wasn’t his intent. But all to quickly the memories of sneaking cookies as they passed through the kitchens to the yard and balancing half full water buckets above stable doors and climbing the bell tower to watch their latest victim enjoy a cold shower vanished and where replaced with the last time she had seen her dearest friend. He was no longer a boy but a young man and apprentice in his fathers accounting business, he had not recognised her at first
thinking her but only a servant of the house until she had spoken. Three years had passed since her uncle had taken over and fired her fathers staff of which His father had been part, Sadly she recalled his anger at the mistreatment she had received all these years an anger that had forced him to confronted her uncle vowing to take her away and promising to make sure he paid for what he had done. But that was to be her last memory of him as after that things went dreadfully wrong and she would likely never see him again…how could she even face him after what she had done! She blinked back the tears fearing they would lead to questions she was not yet willing to answer and turned back to the two women as they pushed open the kitchen door and lead her through.

“I could swear that I left it outside,” a young woman was saying as she shook her head bemusedly, a guilty uneasiness struck Æòelhild as she recognised the woman as the one who had been feeding the birds outside when she had first encountered the inn.

“Well you do insist on feeding those damned ungrateful squawking pests, it was only a matter of time before the greedy things started taking without your leave !” another woman some what older and elbow deep in soapy bubbles answered shaking her head. “ I’m telling you if I catch em at my pies while they’re cooling they’ll feel the bristle end o’ my brush I tell ye they will!” she went on grabbing a nearby broom with a dripping hand and shaking it at the open window.

“Well if you don’t drown us all first, perhaps well get to those pies?” the younger woman laughed lifting a mop and cleaning up the older woman’s soapy trail.

“Soap and feathers a messy combination I’ll warrant!” Bethberry grinned causing both women to stop and turn .

“Ah miz Bethberry what can we do you for, your not here to clean pots I’ll warrant and miz Saeryn I don’t recall seeing you at breakfast this morning and ….ah who is this young thing!” the older woman asked circling Æòelhild appraising her up and down. “Oh my miz Bethberry, who is this child she looks like she hasn’t eaten in months all skin and bones I’m surprised she can support what little weight she has!” the woman remarked astounded.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

"I ate, ma'am," said Saeryn quietly, and nearly ever truthful, "but not much, and early. I was not at breakfast though."

She could still feel the soft bandages, already lighter and looser than before, to remind her of the accident. What on earth had spooked her fearless mare into throwing her? She could not remember. The things that alluded her thought bore into her, dancing on the edges of clarity and driving her impatient with wonder. She loved to know things, and to have jostled memories of her own life from her head was not something she liked much. She had avoided breakfast to sit alone and try to remember more before spending time with men who seemed to know more of her lineage than she. She could remember quite clearly vowing to keep it as secret as were possible, to give the impression of a common lass out for adventure, and yet they seemed to know more than she would have liked. A runaway noble with what family left trailing behind like so many uninvited ducklings. Such thoughts wore her out and made her hungry.

"And yes," she added as an after thought. "I met up with this friend of mine outside a bit ago when I was visiting my mare. I thought it would be nice to share breakfast. Is there anything left?" As was before said, Saeryn was nearly always truthful, and most nearly always for a good cause. Surely in time the girl could be considered a friend, if she stayed, so that was not bending the truth much. She qualified her lie by telling herself that she befriended all in need. After all... there was no need to tell the world that the poor girl had been hiding in the stables. If she wanted the Inn to know, she would tell them. A small lie was rather better than betraying a secret that was not yours.

"Bethberry, would you like to join us?"