Scarburg Meadhall

[Folwren]

“Your responsibility, my friend. Cheerful prospect is it not?”

Thornden gave a humorless smile and shrugged. He was concerned, deeply, about what Lithor said concerning Wulfric and Wilheard. The more Lithor argued about Athanar, the more Thornden convinced himself that Javan had very little to truly fear from him, but when Lithor mentioned the two sons, Thornden felt undeniable fear for his brother’s sake. He had seen himself what they were about to do to Lithor and despite the fact that Lithor was older, he could have definitely withstood such treatment better than Javan. He hoped that perhaps the two brothers would not treat Javan so. Even if they did have less respect for the boy than Lithor, perhaps they would more understanding and forgiveness, seeing as he was no older than Ædre. All the same, Thornden resolved to keep a watchful eye out.

But, then, too, what Lithor said about Athanar and his potentiality to punish Javan publicly was true. Thornden did not fear that Athanar would be overly harsh or cruel, but a public disgracement would not be appropriate, either. He would ask Athanar when he got the chance.

“I will consider what you say, Lithor. I know what you mean, and I understand you now. But,” he added, as he saw Athanar enter the hall, “I think it is too late for me to discipline him myself.”

As if to confirm his words, Athanar called across to him. “Thornden! Could you find lord Degas for me? I wish to see you both here before the day begins...I have a few suggestions to make.”

Thornden bowed in his direction to confirm that he heard and understood, and then he turned again to Lithor. “Well, this is it. Thank you, Lithor, for your advice. I will see you soon.” Lithor nodded and stepped back, in effect releasing Thornden from the conversation and Thornden turned to find Degas.

He did not have to actually leave the room to find Degas, for just as he approached one of the doors, Degas came into the hall. “Degas, Athanar has asked that we go and speak to him.”

“Good. I meant to talk to him before he held court anyway.” Thornden nodded and they went across the hall to the table. Degas sat down beside Saeryn and turned to her with a smile to bid her good morning. Saeryn’s pale face stopped him, and instead he asked, “Are you feeling alright?”

“No,” Saeryn answered truthfully. “But Modtryth tells me it’s all from carrying a child, so it’s normal and I shouldn’t worry about it.”

[Mnemosyne]

The sunlight streamed in and fell on Wynflaed's eyes. Shifting over, the chill air in the place where Athanar's warmth usually reached out to her woke her fully. She opened her eyes.

Her husband was nowhere to be seen. "Athanar..." she muttered, much less vexed than she sounded. Even on days when there was much work to be done, he "couldn't bear to wake her" even when she specifically asked to be woken near dawn. She rose and looked at the window--almost midmorning already! Sighing, she pulled the quilt back over the bed for neatness' sake--Lilige would make it later.

The mattress smelled different--it was strange how the smallest cues reminded you that you were in a new place. She wondered if it had retained any of the scent of Eodwine and Saeryn, or if they had stuffed it with new straw for their arrival.

She only looked briefly around the room before remembering that Scarburg had no bell to pull (a fine innovation from Gondor) to summon her maid. Well, if Lilige was worth her salt at all (which she was, of course), she would be in shortly. Wynflaed only really needed assistance with her hair, anyhow.

Stepping over to the chest holding her husband's clothes, she fingered through them until she knew for certain what he had chosen. Not everyday, but not too fine... just what my Athanar would do for an occasion such as this. She made sure all was in order before turning to her dresses and looking for something that would match with green...

[Loslote]

Before the other woman could answer, Lilige jumped up from where she had leaned against the wall. She'd kept her ear out for the servant bell, which Lady Wynflaed usually used to tell her she was awake, but knowing the Scarburgians, they probably didn't even have one. "I'm sorry," she said quickly to the other woman, and hurried out of the kitchen and up to her Lady's room.

She quietly opened the door and peered into the room. Lady Wynflaed was searching through her clothes. Lilige winced inwardly at the sight of her hair. She opened the door wider, making it rasp slightly against the floor. "My Lady," she called to alert Wynflaed to her presence.

Wynflaed straightened and turned to face the maid. "Good," she said. "My hair needs to be fixed before the meeting today."

"Of course," Lilige said. What meeting? she thought, but put the matter out of her mind. Either Wynflaed would tell her, or she could try to get someone else to tell her. Or she wasn't supposed to know because it was a meeting of the important people. Either way, Lilige decided not to ask, but focused on easing the knots out of Wynflaed's hair and pulling it back into half-braided loops.

"And...there you are, my Lady," she said as she tucked the last strand into the loop. "Perfect." Smiling, Lilige turned to the bed, tugging at the corners.

[Nogrod]

Lord Athanar greeted Degas and Thornden and after they had talked on Saeryn's condition - and when she seemed strong enough to concentrate on other issues - Athanar finally came clear with what he had in mind.

"I do understand there were strong feelings aloft yesterday evening, and ale gives strength to strong feelings." He looked at all the three carefully.

"I'm willing to come a long way towards your people to settle these issues in a decent and just manner. That means way more leniently things would go in any court in Edoras... even if I'm not going to let Lithor off the hook just like that. As a soldier he must understand his place."

Thornden looked like he was trying to make a defence of Lithor but Athanar waved him quiet with his hand. "I know you would like to talk for him... what happened outside I have no clear picture of, and would like to hear also your view of it, but maybe it's better I'll hear you as one witness among the others so that I'll put similar weight to every account of it. And what he did inside, well there is little excuse for his behaviour... and I wish to see his reactions with a blank eye."

Lord Athanar was not sure if his explanation of why he wasn't willing to hear any account on behalf of Lithor satisfied Thornden or not, but Thornden did anyway lean back again picking up a piece of bread.

"Now I've heard this Javan is just a kid like Aedre is, and with children I must say I'm totally against public physical punishments... growing up in Wormtongue's court taught me that lesson well enough. Those punishments tend to sow the seeds of hatred more strongly anything else does. Now who'd be his parents? I'd like to exchange a word with them before we start if possible?"

[Folwren]

Lithor had done no wrong outside, and it was this that Thornden wished to say. Athanar, however, did not wish to hear it now, though he promised later to allow Thornden to speak. Just as well. Then everyone, including the two young men who had apparently accused him, would be answered as well.

“Now, I’ve heard this Javan is just a child like Ædre is, and with children I must say I’m totally against public physical punishment.” Thornden allowed himself to take a breath as he felt the first real relief he had felt all morning. Lithor’s fears, then, seemed unfounded. “Growing up in Wormtongue’s courts taught me that lesson well enough. Those punishments tend to sow the seeds of hatred more strongly than anything else. Now, who’d be his parents? I’d like to exchange a word with them before we start if possible?”

“His parents are not here,” Thornden said. “I stand in their place. He is my brother. So, anything you would wish to say..." he opened his hands and shrugged and looked Athanar in the face, expectantly.

[Nogrod]

"Ahh, well... that is news indeed." Lord Athanar was confused. He tried frantically to think over the sides of the matter as to whether it was good or bad news that Javan was Thornden's brother. But looking at Thornden's expression he couldn't help but to smile.

"You must fill me in with your stories one day Thornden... and about parents who leave their children." Athanar looked suddenly more serious. He was guessing the truth of the matter and wished to push the thoughts away. "One day."

With that he nodded to Thornden indicating he wished to further the discussion no more. Instead he turned to Saeryn and looked at her closely before opening his mouth.

"Lady Saeryn." He opened but was distracted by Wynflaed who turned into the table wishing everyone good morning.

"Oh, good morning my dear." Athanar answered and gave her a courteous kiss to the cheek as she had sat down beside him.

Turning back to look at Saeryn he smiled cautiously. "If you accept the offer lady Saeryn, I myself and my good lady Wynflaed here," he glanced quickly to his wife who nodded to him in assurance. "So we are ready to adopt you as our daughter to inherit this Mead Hall - or to let your child inherit it in due time."

Thornden and Degas dropped their jaws.

[Folwren]

The sight and smell of food had made Saeryn feel increasingly sick throughout the course of breakfast, although she ate nothing and said almost as little. It wasn’t until Athanar made his unexpected and shocking offer that she realized just how ill she actually was. Her mouth went perfectly dry and her stomach became uncomfortably warm. She swallowed with difficulty.

“I don’t know. I have to think. I can not. . .excuse me.” She stood up hastily with no attempt at politeness nor with any disguise of her immediate distress and ran off as quickly as she could with one hand clamped firmly over her mouth. It took more strength of will and stomach than she thought she possessed to reach the door in time.

Her body trembled with the effort of vomiting. Between her gasping efforts, her thoughts came in broken fragments. “Adopting me? The baby can be heir? This would solve. . .that problem. Adopting me? I’m married. It’s ridiculous. It will solve the problem.” Her shivering abated and she regained her composer. She went to the kitchen to drink some water and then walked back to the hall. Everyone at the table ceased speaking as she came near and turned to face her.

“Lord Athanar,” Saeryn said. “From what I understand of your offer, I am inclined to accept, but I should like to speak more in-depth of what it would mean before I agree entirely.

[Folwren]

Javan was not angry anymore. He was a little cowed and perhaps a little afraid of lord Athanar, but he was not angry. He stayed where he was until he felt that he could present himself to Athanar and then he went out.

It was not difficult to find him. Athanar and Saeryn were speaking in the great hall, and Degas was sitting nearby. Javan approached to a respectful distance and then stopped and waited until he was noticed.

“When will you tell your sons and your daughter?” Saeryn was asking.

“One second,” Athanar said, holding up his hand. He looked at Javan. “Do you wish to speak with me?”

“If you please, m’lord,” Javan said, coming forward a few steps. He paused, looking awkward. He glanced at Degas and Saeryn and then back at Athanar. Saeryn looked closely at him, and noticed the very slight rim of red around his eyes. “I am sorry,” Javan said to Athanar. “For the way I behaved this morning before you.” The words stuck uncomfortably in his throat. He forced them out. “I should not have argued after you made your decision. I realize that it is fair and. . .and merciful. I ask your pardon.”

[Thinlómien]

Wulfric

Commands were given, action was taken and here they were, him and Will, unnoticed again. Wulfric clenched his fists. A tiny voice in his head said that Lord Athanar just wasn't used to having to full-grown sons in his household, but Wulfric felt like exploding anyway. What were they for in this pitiful distant place if not for dangerous situations like this? Forgotten, they now stood next Scyrr while the healer was tending to his wounds and a suspiciously Dunlendingish-looking woman had appeared out of nowhere to assist her.

"By Oromë!" he swore. "Can't you get a sick man to a bed or do you have to tend him on the grass? Is this how professional folk we have here in Scarburg!"

He didn't care if the women replied or not. "Wilheard! Find anyone to help you and find a bier and take Scyrr in, wherever these women guide you!"

"I'm going," he announced, and strode away. Where, he didn't know yet, but at least he had managed to give out some orders and at least he didn't have to play nanny anymore.

~*~

Wilheard

"Sir, I know where the bier is and I can find it for you," the Dunlending woman said.
"Why then, fair lady, are you still standing there?" Wilheard asked. The woman apparently figured out it was better not to answer and turned to hurry away.
"Good dog," Wilheard muttered and rolled his eyes.

It had been like this for the past several weeks, ever since they returned from the barracks. Their father would do something stupid with would irk Wulfric and he'd give Will a stupid order with the authority of the elder son and march away to protest. Such a wonderful leader that man would make one day, Wilheard thought.

He started scanning the yard lazily for someone to carry the pier with him - or better, two men to carry it so that he could go riding. He really needed a break.

~*~

Modtryth

So there was a search for Erbrand and Lithor. Modtryth had never liked either of them too much - Lithor had downright annoyed her but she had thought Erbrand a good man because of Kara's feelings for him - but now she had a bad feeling. She felt for Kara even though Erbrand's deed was hard to understand, and she would have rather taken the boisterous and conceited greybeard back than all this mess. And the new Eorl and his family - well, to work under them was like working under any smaller or bigger lord in Rohan. The time of noble Eodwine was over, and it was time to go back to reality.

It wasn't difficult to find the pier, it was by far the biggest object in the corner where Aedhel kept her healer's equipment. Last time they had used it to take Lord Eodwine to the carriage to be taken away... but better not to think of that.

Modtryth took the pier and carried it out to the yard.

"Mum! What's happening?"
The kids were standing idly on the yard, following the unfolding events with enthusiasm.
"There has been a fight between two men. Now get out of the way but stay within sight of the house. The soldiers are in the woods." With that, she hurried away to where the wounded man was.

~*~

Cnebba

"Your mother isn't very informative, is she?" Javan asked darkly.
Cnebba glanced at Garmund. He didn't know what to say. Should he defend his mother or agree with the older boy?

"I like her," Leodern said.

Javan ignored the girl. Cnebba knew he was too old to play with babies like Leodern. "Why don't you go away?" he asked the girl. He half expected Garmund to become angry, but he sided with his best friend instead of his sister: "Yeah, go away and play with your dolls, we don't want you here."

Leodern gave the two boys a sulky face and ran to the kitchen where she was always welcome.

Cnebba shrugged. "I wish we could find out what's happening." Ghastly scenes of brutal murder were already going around in his small head and there was a glint in his dark eyes.