Eorling Mead Hall

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine smiled, determined to put the two at their ease. It was good to see and hear folk who were so very much themselves; too many kept too much hidden. Eodwine wondered if that was true for himself. It was something to think about later.

"See, Saeryn, that you defend your someday husband as well-" Stigend and Modtryth looked up in surprise "-and I'll see that I treasure my someday wife as well."

Stigend blurted, "You speak too well of us, lord."

"I would rather that you spoke to me as you have done, Stigend. I was born a lowly farmer, thrust amongst my betters by the favor of King Eomer. The Lady Saeryn is highborn, but not I. She is my apprentice and ward until she or I marry.

"But enough! You stare at the food as if you would eat it with your eyes! Methinks you are hungry! Eat your fill, my friends! I am hungry enough too!"

Stigend and Modtryth grinned and took Eodwine at his word. It was not long before Cnebba joined them. The talk lightened, for Stigend and Modtryth had been put at their ease. When they had taken their fill, Saeryn as host and Lady, showed the family to their room, and Eodwine went to the hearth fire to see how Garwine had fared.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Saeryn retired to her room for a few short moments to splash cold water on her face and change into soft breeches and a loose shirt long since stolen from Degas. Only members of the household were left in Eodwine's hall now, and she was tired. She would have loved to sink into her soft bed and sleep until late tomorrow, but she needed words with both her brother and her lord.

Ignoring shoes, she opened her door and knocked on Eodwine's. The only answer was a soft mew from her feet. She reached down and scooped up a soft grey kitten and walked down the stairs, cuddling it and rubbing its head with one finger. She saw Eodwine standing by the hearth and went to him, standing back a little and waiting for him to see her.

He had been standing before the hearth for some time, now that Thornden and Garwine had been dismissed. He would have to give each of them a day free from duties as thanks for the long hours of standing and waiting and help they had both given him. This week, he decided.

The hearth was as he wished it. {see The Hobbit, Queer Lodgings (illustrated edition)} The floor in the center of the room had been dug out, about a foot deep (just behind the dais, looking from the front door toward the kitchen), four feet wide by six feet long. In its middle was an iron grate, filled with tinder and wood. Garwine had prepared the fire as his last chore before his evening meal. Falco had pulled up a chair and was sitting in front of it, smoking his long stemmed pipe, his legs crossed at the ankles.

"So you think yourself important now, eh, Eodwine?"

"You know better than that, you old rascal."

Falco glanced at him once by way of agreement, and saw Saeryn waiting. Eodwine noticed and turned. She had changed into a man's loose fitting clothes, and she was barefoot, holding a kitten in her arms. Most fetching. He smiled.

"We were to talk about today, were we not?" Saeryn nodded once, straight faced.

"She's not giving away what she's thinking!" Falco chortled. "Be on your guard, Eorl!"

"Falco, I ought to make you work for all that food you eat here." He had not taken her eyes from her. "Shall we talk in quiet?"

She nodded again, and led him back toward his room. She put the kitten down and went inside. They took chairs on opposite sides of his table, leaving the door open.

"Say what you wish, Lady Saeryn," he broached.

"I am unsure where to begin, Lord Eodwine."

He smiled. "Then perhaps with the beginning?"

She grinned and her mood lightened. This was a test, of sorts, but one that he was sure she would pass. He would not have chosen her to be the lady of the hall elsewise.

"You asked me to watch, and to listen. So I did. Before you called my name," and here she smiled shyly, "I listened less, but still heard. They were matters that I had guessed would pass the way they did... your household is loyal to you, and they are hard, honest workers. Also, they bring so much laughter and liveliness to the Hall. And the children make me smile."

Saeryn reported her thoughts dutifully, keeping few of them to herself, on the events that unfolded. She failed to mention Degas or anything to do with him. She kept herself on track, resisting the urge to tangent off into lengthy compliments of every individual household member.

Her speech was quick, though clear, and it was quieter than usual. She eventually trailed to silence for a moment and shifted in her seat, crossing her legs beneath her. She had spoken of the household, of the question of land rights, of the mixed family that now resided within the hall. The event that weighed most heavily on her mind was the only that remained.

"Eodwine, I do not think that Manawyth is guilty of the crime of which he has been accused. His eyes claimed honesty... and his bearing showed no sign of their lie. Either he was honest today, if not before, or my years of residence with a man that lied more oft than he spoke truthfully were for nothing."

Eodwine regarded her with raised brows, borne of his surprise. "I did not expect such strong words on the matter, but thank you. It is one of the reasons why I wish to go to Dunland with Manawyth, to learn all there is to know about the situation, for will I or nill I, I hold the man's fate in my hands. It is a dire thing." He sighed heavily and his shoulders drooped. Saeryn noted the lines around his eyes and near his mouth; he seemed older with his duties of lordship weighing upon him; but the spark had not left his eyes.

"And I wish for you to go with Manawyth and me, for I would see to your quest as well; somehow. And that brings me to the matter of your apprenticeship as the Lady of the Hall; and Garreth's rude question. What think you?"

Eodwine watched her face. He had noted her seriousness and quietness; she seemed more a woman than the spritely girl he had met a few months ago.

"My apprenticeship seems to solve many problems, Eodwine, and I thank you for it. My place in this household is now firm... before I was... well... simply a guest. A runaway noble with nobody to speak for me but an equally runaway brother that found me at The White Horse Inn by accident. I was floating like dust in the wind, Eodwine. You've settled me. You gave me protection and friendship before... now you have given me a home and honest work as well. I can ask for no more."

Eodwine watched her. She had avoided the rude question. He allowed a slow half smile. "I am glad." He decided to leave it at that.

"Ahem," came a cough from the doorway.

Saeryn looked up and her composed look fell away. Eodwine turned. It was Degas.

"Eodwine, we need to talk."

Eodwine's face fell. He had been hoping to join Falco for a pipe smoke and glass of wine. It would have to wait. He stood and offered Degas his chair. There were only two chairs in the room, so he sat on the edge of the bed . Degas sat down.

"Well?" Eodwine said, his face feeling more tired than it had since the day he'd learned that Linduial had been abducted.

Degas turned to his sister with a meaningful look. She glared at him and very intentionally made herself more comfortable. If they were ten years younger, she'd have accompanied the motions with a protruding tongue. Eodwine watched their faces, noting Degas's impatience and discomfort, Saeryn's barely concealed annoyance. He had to suspect that the two had already spoken. Her words were polite when she spoke and only Eodwine's familiarity with the young woman allowed him to discern any emotion from within them.

"My brother seems to be of the opinion that he has a say in my life and he seems equally of the opinion that I should not be present when he says it."

"Your father--"

"Our father."

"Our father is dead. The next oldest man in your life is Fenrir. Would you prefer that he speak for you?"

Eodwine sat quietly, listening to the exchange and watching. Saeryn's voice fell to a near whisper.

"You left me with him, Degas. You packed your things and left for Gondor and you left me behind. You forfeited your right to speak for me when you deserted me nearly four years ago, and Fenrir lost his right when he chose to act in such a way as to be undeserving." Degas looked crushed and Saeryn fell silent.

This was ugly. She was right. And she was wrong. "Saeryn," Eodwine said in a quiet voice, "Fenrir loses no right until the king's court says he does. The same is true for Degas. He cannot unmake himself your brother by leaving your household for four years, nor for forty. Nevertheless, I also have a right to speak for Saeryn now, for she has placed herself under my guardianship. So think of that as you speak, Degas."

Saeryn fell silent before mumbling something. Degas wasted no time.

"What was that?"

"I can speak for myself."

"But obviously not clearly or with enough power behind the words for men to hear."

"How dare you?" Her voice shook with rage. Eodwine was forgotten.

"If you can't be bothered to make yourself heard--"

"I'll make myself heard, you arrogant fool. Do you want to hear me? Do you? Do you want to hear of power?" Her voice rose passionately as Degas provoked her. They knew each other well; far beyond well enough to know what things to say that would cause the most hurt, or the most anger. What did it matter what was believed, what either of them cared about, if they could win for the moment, as fleeting as it was? "I am the same age as you, brother dearest, and in potential alone, I stand to gain more power than you ever will, the younger son of a house that lost favor with the death of our parents. I can marry and gain from it. Can you? Can you stand that the object of your affections is of a higher station than you, and always will be? Speak to me, brother, of power, when you have some of your own that has more substance than mere words!"

[Formendacil]

It was night. The April sun had fallen, and Náin, up since nearly dawn, had retired to his bedchamber, just down the hall from Eodwine's chambers. He had climbed into bed, and was just starting to doze off when a commotion erupted down the hall, in Eodwine's personal drawing room. Someone, a girl... Saeryn maybe? Whoever it was, she was raising a powerful ruckus- and someone, a male, was arguing with her.

Náin's first thought was to put his pillow over his head and stuff out the noise, but that was clearly not going to work.

When the arguing intensified rather than got louder, Náin jumped to his feet irritably, threw on a nightgown, and stormed out of his room and down the hall. Had it been earlier in the day, he would likely have considered his actions a bit more beforehand, and would probably have come to the conclusion that they were ill-considered. Unfortunately, it was not earlier in the day, and so he didn't reconsider. A tired Dwarf is a rarely a rational one.

Shoving open the door to Eodwine's chambers without regard for who or what might meet him within- and forgetting whose chambers they were- Náin strode right into the argument between Saeryn and Degas. Eodwine appeared to be a little bit uncomfortable at being stuck in the middle of the twins' quarrel, but Náin failed to notice this in his irritability.

"...to me, brother, of power, when you have some of your own that has more substance than mere words!"

Before Degas had a chance to reply to Saeryn, Náin had burst in.

"Battleaxes and Balrogs!" he roared. "Can you make it any less difficult for a Dwarf to get some sleep around here!"

"Náin, I ask you-" Eodwine began, but the irate Dwarf wasn't to be stopped.

"And in the Eorl's chambers of all places! Bricks and Barriers! A fine example to set after such a fine court day! The only thing that marred the court was the same thing that's keeping decent people awake at this hour! You two youngin's and your childish ways! You may as well give up the pretence, both of you, of being grown adults! If I were in your shoes, my father'd give me a thrashing I'd never forget! Carpets and corsets, though, seeing as you two hooligans haven't got a father handy, I'm half-tempted to do the honours myself!"

Degas gave Náin a glare, daring the two-foot shorter Dwarf to lay hands on either of them, but it was Eodwine who spoke first.

"Silence!"

Fuming, Náin, Degas, and Saeryn all turned to face Eodwine. Down the corridor, Náin thought he could hear more people who should have been abed stirring. Perhaps, his tired mind suggested, he was making things worse rather than better.

[Celuien]

Garstan stood pacing uncomfortably outside of Farahil's room. Lèoðern and Garmund were left behind to wait for Cnebba to come out from dinner. The boy seemed a good enough child from the little Garstan had heard on their walk before delivering Cnebba to take a meal. He was, for the moment, satisfied with the boy, though he wanted still to meet Cnebba's family.

But for the moment, Garstan had a more pressing concern in Linduial. Why, and how, had he ever managed to be drawn into this situation? It was none of his affair. He had no place meddling in the concerns of those above him in rank. But this time, this one time, he did. There was now a tie between Linduial, her family, and him. Garstan didn't know what was expected of him, but he felt it his duty to report what he had seen. Courtship. Garstan thought of his daughter. He would certainly want his permission asked before Lèoðern received any suitors. And therein was the rub. Linduial had spoken without seeking her brother's advice. Garstan didn't think her action had been correct. He needed to be sure that her behavior was proper, and accepted by her family. For Linduial's future and her family's position. Perhaps not the place for a mere stoneshaper to speak, but this was not an ordinary circumstance.

He rapped on the door. Farahil opened it and looked at Garstan in some surprise.

"Garstan. Yes. What is it?"

He entered the room uneasily, not knowing how to begin or even what to say. How much should he tell, and how much of the tale should be Linduial's?

"My lord. I thought that I should tell you. Your sister seeks the courtship of Lord Degas. I heard her speak to him." The image of Linduial in Degas' arms returned to him. He chose to remain silent on that point. It was enough to speak of the courtship. Linduial could speak to her brother of particulars. "I thought that you, her brother, should be aware."

He hoped that was enough.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Farahil was still dressed, using the relative quiet of this late hour to write letters and sort out logistics of travel. A worn map lay abandoned on his desk as he looked at the humble stoneshaper with no small amount of consideration. Linduial, seeking out Degas? He had wondered...

"I thank you, Garstan. You are a good man to tell me this."

Down the hall, confronted by an angry dwarf, Saeryn burst into tears.

[littlemanpoet]

The Dwarf had barged into a closed room and spoken foolishness. Saeryn was beside herself. Degas's head bounced back and forth from the Dwarf and his sister, looking dumbfounded in both directions. Eodwine got the attention of the two men with a quick shout. He rose and turned on Náin in a cold fury.

"Dwarf, you have not yet worn out your welcome, but you come dangerously close. Leave this room at once!"

It was now the Dwarf's turn to stare at Eodwine dumbfounded. Then without a word he hustled from the room and down the hall, passing a thoughtful looking Garstan on the way to his room.

Eodwine shut the door again, and waited for Saeryn's cries to quiet into hiccups. "Now, Degas, if you have anything more to say, say it now. And choose your words most carefully, for I am not in a mood to accept more foolishness. You are a guest. I expect courtesy of my guests in return for the courtesy I offer. Speak, man!"

[Celuien]

Garstan nodded slightly, relieved to have broken the news so easily and with no further questioning. After a few pleasantries, he left.

The children had been left outside the door to the great hall to wait for Cnebba. When Garstan returned, they were gone and the hall was deserted, the last embers of the fire burning low. He would never be able to keep track of them now that they had another child to help them find mischief, he decided, as he walked past closed rooms in search of Garmund and Lèoðern.

He asked the Dwarf if he had seen the children. A half-growled, "No," was Náin's answer. Garstan was surprised. More dramas than the one Garstan was involved with, perhaps, were at work tonight. But he'd had enough for one day. Bidding good-night to the Dwarf as he passed, Garstan continued his search.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Degas was abashed. He refused to let Saeryn's words hurt him, though his refusal was weak. He had provoked her and would not blame her for anything that she said because of it. Still, he should have known that her clear-sightedness would betray uncomfortable thoughts he had not yet allowed himself to even address.

"Please, Lord Eodwine, forgive me. I will not say forgive us, as Saeryn's behavior was directly influenced by mine." She sat up a little straighter and looked to say something, before wiping her eyes and deciding against it, wilting slightly once more. "I came to address the matter of courtship.

"Saeryn made mention of my stay in Gondor... my views of such things as asking leave of a woman's menfolk have been encouraged by Gondorian customs, yet these same customs have strong tradition in Rohan also."