Scarburg Meadhall

[littlemanpoet]

At last dinner was over. Eodwine offered to help with the dishes but was roundly rebuked, told that he was the honored one and it would not do for him to do dishes on such a night. Stigend and Garstan offered to replace him, and a few other men also volunteered, which helped the cooks and serving women to make much quicker work of the clean up than they had anticipated. While they helped in the kitchen, most of the men (who could still stand) moved tables and chairs out of the way.

They came out of the kitchens after a reasonably short while, the women smiling brightly. The minstrels among the folk pealed away from the others, produced lutes, harps, hand-drums, and pipes.

Watching, Eodwine turned to Saeryn. "I think I'd like to get my harp."

[Firefoot]

Eventually the talk turned to subjects less contentious and lighter-hearted, and Léof began again to simply enjoy the banter of friends and the good food. Soon he found himself sitting with an empty plate and a full belly, and all around folk began to break out their instruments. It had been far too long since music and laughter filled the hall.

Léof groaned and said with a laugh, “I am far too stuffed for dancing!”

~*~*~*~
Scyld

Following the incident with Saeryn and Scyrr, Scyld faded back into the background of the hall. He got his tankard refilled, as he originally planned on doing, and took his time making his way back to his seat. He paused at several of the tables to listen to what others were talking about and to chip in with a couple of harmless comments.

He finally sat back down shortly before the music started up. Aldric glanced at him. “You've nearly missed the whole meal,” he said.

Scyld shrugged. “It only takes a little bit from every table and it's as if I sat down for the whole meal here,” he said.

Aldric grunted. “If you are so full, then it is your turn to talk to the wench.”

Scyld was surprised Aldric recalled their earlier conversation so well. He suspected that Aldric was simply eager to see Rowenna turn him down. He said, “But right now the fitting reason to approach a woman would be to ask her to dance, which I have little skill at.” It was not untrue. Under Sorn, Scyld had been afforded little reason or opportunity to learn or practice dancing. However, he was keen enough to have picked up the basics, and he knew that most dances did not require much more than that.

Aldric grunted again, but Scyld was spared further conversation when another soldier turned to Aldric with a question. Scyld turned his gaze back to the larger hall to watch.