Hard Winters RPG

[Mithalwen]

"Elwin son of Eldred, Captain in the King's Guard. He was my father's best friend" Elfthain felt himself colour as he omitted and my mother's brother, "He has other squires I am sure he can manage without me for a while if I write and tell him I could be useful here. I hope I could be useful here... especially if I wasn't under Wilheard's control... " he grinned at Thornden, "Though he spoke barely a handful of words to me all the journey through. There might be advantages to such a master" he added mischievously.

"It isn't the end of the world about the horse. Only I have a half-broken colt at home on the farm and I was schooling him myself...." he wasn't sure his mother would have resist the temptation to finish the job herself. It wasn't that she would do a bad job rather that she might do it almost too well and he dreaded the mirth it might provoke if his "pony" were replaced by a palfrey.

[Firefoot]

Cerwyn heard the footsteps of someone coming up behind her; the sucking, squelching mud made a stealthy approach difficult. She pulled the hood of her cloak further over her face and moved to the side of the road to let the traveler pass. So far on her journey this had worked well. Travelers on horseback had rode past with little more than a wave and a greeting, as had those coming from the opposite direction. This was the first person on foot to come up behind her, and she stiffened when he called out a greeting. Surely it was too soon for someone travelling on foot to catch up with her, if they had been sent out after her from Edoras? One on horseback might have made such good time, but surely not on foot – unless she missed her guess, she’d had nearly a full day’s head start before she would have been missed. She couldn’t be too careful, though. She reached up to make sure her hair was tucked away. Hopefully he would quickly pass her by, none the wiser.

“Hoy there, lad! You have walked far this morning,” the man said. She slowly turned, and saw that he was nearly upon her. He was older than her – none of the boys her age could grow a full beard like that yet. He had a kind face, she thought, and a nice smile.

“I have,” she said, trying to keep her voice even and low but wondering how he knew that. Had he been following her? Was she already found out? “The quicker I can finish my journey on this road, the better.”

[Thinlómien]

Someone was shouting his name. Loud. And near. His blanket was gone. He was cold, so cold. He wondered if they'd made him sleep outside, like Father had once done. Or maybe he'd fallen off his horse and fallen asleep in the snow on the Scar. Had they come looking for him then?

"Eorl Eodwine will hear about it first thing!"

"Eorl Eodwine be damned!" Wilheard said. His voice sounded very weak to his own ears. He wondered what was wrong with him. "Bring me..." he croaked. "Please bring me my brother."

Wulfric could fix this. Wulfric had always fixed everything. He'd know what had happened, too.

"Wulf, why am I so cold?" Wilheard muttered, groping for the blanket that was not there.

[Thinlómien]

The great hall was always so full with breakfast time! And it was the same struggle every morning, too. The fist morning she had sat with Fréa and Caranthir, the second she had been kindly accepted to sit with Modtryth and Leodthern and they had later been joined by other household women. Now she was again wondering who could she sit next to.

"Westu hal, Lady Brithiel."

Brith turned her head quickly to see she had been approached by Ledwyn. She nodded, and smiled.

Ledwyn went on in Rohirric: "I something you our bread and mead. You are our something something, but this is more than something. I something to ask for your something. I something you something not something the rest by my doings and something. My something is something, but the something of the Hall is something. If there is a something I can do to something your something, you must name it to me."

Oh dear, Brith thought, keeping the smile on her face. What can I say? It didn't help that Ledwyn looked dead serious, and Brith sensed that whatever the other woman had just said had a great importance to her.

"No, no," she said a little uncertainly, in Rohirric. "Everything is good. Thank you, Ledwyn."

She swallowed uneasily and smiled. She hoped she hadn't just made an even bigger mess, and even more she hoped it was all settled now. If not, someone who spoke Westron had better rescue her soon.

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine was not too keen on the free cuss coming out of Wilheard, but it was his own fault for playing at not being himself. And the poor - er - cuss looked unwell, now that he had a good look at him.

Ah, he had mentioned Wulfric. Eodwine lost his grin and shook his head sadly. The brother who had been killed in battle. Eodwine remembered him, the one on whom his brother and father had depended.

"You are unwell, Wilheard," Eodwine said kindly. "Feverish, by the looks of it. I will see that you are cared for." He reached for the blanket and covered the shivering man, then bent over and fetched his pillow. "Here. Take this."

Wilheard opened a bleary eye and took the pillow, holding it as if it were a toddler's doll.

"We shall talk when you are well." He left the room and found Saeryn. "Wilheard has a fever."

[littlemanpoet]

"There, that's enough," Rowenna said quietly. "We know where this came from, and that it should go back where you found it."

Ruari did not argue. She felt herself fortunate so far and did not think she should press her luck. She leaned forward a little. "Will you put some on my porridge first?" she whispered.

Rowenna allowed herself half a grin. She remembered herself when she was this age. She had been the little ruler of the house, herself. And then everything had changed. Her smile disappeared. She had had to learn late and through great anguish how to survive. It should not be so for Ruari. She would not be harsh with the girl, but she had to know that she would have to work at getting what she wanted instead of just thinking it would come to her.

"No. I already gave you your treat. This needs to go back and must not have too much less in it than before."

Ruari shrugged a shoulder and lowered her head, a slight pout coming across her face. She considered how effective a show of temper would be, and decided a full blown protest would not be well accepted. She settled for stomping her feet unnecessarily in the mud - after Rowenna had turned her back and begun leading the way back to the kitchen.

Rowenna had good ears and heard the stomping. She couldn't help smiling. The little cut up was a little version of herself. This could be fun. She stopped with a pleasant smile and held out her hand. "Take my hand, Ruari. Let's go back inside. It looks like rain."

Ruari crossed her arms and became quite still in the mud. Her pout deepened until her eyebrows were lowered crossly.

"I won't go in until you promise to give me some," she said.

Rowenna turned around and looked at the girl, tilting her head, her eyes narrowed. A dangerous smile came to her face. "Do not pick a fight with me, little girl, you will not win. So what will it be?"

Ruari almost backed down. She probably would have, if Rowenna hadn't been smiling, even if it was the wrong kind. Briefly, she weighed the possibilities. She decided to try her luck.

"If you don't give me some in my oatmeal, I will tell Mama that you stole some, too."

Rowenna's brow rose. This girl had spunk. Rowenna bent down and got eye level with her, holding the jar of honey close to her chest, to put it out of reach but within range of her eyes so as to be a useful bait. Rowenna stared into her eyes, her own eyes hard as stone and her own smile as threatening as cut crystal.

Ruari withdrew the tiniest fraction, though she did not step back. She flinched as Rowenna continued to stare, and she began to question the wisdom of holding her will against this woman. Then she squared her shoulders, remembering that Rowenna was not her mother, and could not do anything to her.

"You're a spunky little thing, aren't you." Rowenna reminded herself that she was choosing not to be harsh with this girl. "You are like I was when I was your age. If you were to tattle, you would make a foe of me, and I do not think you want to do that. It would not serve you well, for I have much I could teach you, that no-one else here knows. Do you understand me, Ruari, Saeryn's Daughter?"

Ruari didn't understand, but her curiosity was piqued. "What kinds of things?" she asked.

"I can teach you to make others want to do what you want them to do."

This was still a little above Ruari's understanding, but it sounded like it would be useful. She nodded her head slightly. "Alright," she said. "I won't tell Mama, then."

"Very well. You must trust me to teach you when the time is right. In the meantime, we can be friends. Take my hand."

Ruari took it and together they went back into the kitchen. By now they were quite wet, and while Rowenna put the pot of honey back on the shelf, Ruari stood by the fire. She watched Rowenna and inwardly promised herself that later, when the time was better, she would get the honey, and even Rowenna wouldn't know about it.

[Firefoot]

“Don’t worry over your colt,” Léof assured Elfthain. For a while, when Athanar had still been Scarburg’s lord, the stable had been full – overfull, even. There had been talk for a while of expanding the stables and building more stalls. Since Athanar had left, however, there had always been some empty stalls. “Once the caravan leaves, a lot of space will open up.” He smiled. “I’d also be curious to see how you’re handling your colt. I’m thinking about bringing along my yearling filly rather than sell her.”

It was the first time he’d said it out loud to anyone, but the thought had been growing on his mind for several months now. He liked the idea of having a second mare to continue breeding when Æthel grew too old, and he was steadily growing more attached to Æthel’s daughter, whom he had called Wren after the small birds who had hatched in their nest under the stable eaves the week the filly had been born. If a more promising filly were to come along, he could always sell Wren later, but it was certainly possible that the rest of Æthel’s foals would be all colts.

[Folwren]

Saeryn shifted the basket in her hands to her hip and wiped her forehead. She glanced around the room, taking mental stock of what needed to be done that day. She turned to Eodwine.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"In his quarters. He did not rise this morning."

"I will see to him." She turned and went back to the kitchen. She found Ruari and Rowenna there. "Heavens, I forgot your breakfast! Why didn't you go out to the hall with the others? Rowenna, poor me some hot water for tea." She set the basket down on the table and reached for a dried bunch of herbs. She set them on the table and began snapping off dried twigs. Her hurried glance fell on her daughter again. "Why are you wet?"

Rowenna set a brimming mug on the tabletop next to her and drew back to the stove. Saeryn absently dropped the leaves into the water while staring down at Ruari.

Ruari looked back, wide-eyed. "I went outside," she said.

"Well, I guess you did! You probably got your dress all..." she glanced over the edge of the table and saw the muddy hem and shoes clotted with mud. "Ruari, you should be more mindful!" She turned away and went to the shelf to take down the honey. Ruari's eyes widened with eagerness, but Saeryn took no notice.

"Go on out and find your brother. Sit with him. Kara will get you some porridge. Rowenna, you may go get your breakfast as well."

"Can I have some honey, Mama?" Ruari asked.

"No. Run along." She did not glance up as she carefully spooned some of the honey into the tea and mixed it. Ruari and Rowenna quietly exited the kitchen. Saeryn glanced in the basket she had brought in. There was still some bread left. She doubted that Wilheard would have much appetite, but in case he did, she took a couple slices to accompany the tea.

She found him only semi-conscious, lying in a crooked, uncomfortable looking position. She placed the victuals she had brought on the ground beside his bed and touched his forehead. He was hot, sure, but she had seen worse.

"I've brought you some tea and bread, I'd like you to try to eat and drink some of it."

[Galadriel55]

Lady Brithiel appeared somewhat bemused while Ledwyn spoke. Her response confirmed Ledwyn's doubts.

"No, no. Everything is good. Thank you, Ledwyn."

The lady's face said that everything was definitely not good. Was she too polite to accept Ledwyn's offer? Did she understand what Ledwyn said? Ledwyn knew that the newcomer knew some of the Eorling speech; more than she knew Westron. She ought to make her understand something.

"My lady, I fear I have not made you feel welcome here as I should have. There must be something I can do to amend that."

Ledwyn prayed that the lady would understand.

[littlemanpoet]

Well, this had turned out to be easier than she expected. Here came the rogue now, from the Scar, walking slowly in the rain as if he reveled in it. He glanced her way and made it to the door to the Hall just before her. He gave her that typically sardonic look, which at this moment she found most annoying.

“May I hold the door for you, or would you prefer to have another reason to glower at me?”

A verbal attack. Why did it have to hit so close to home? She was unable to remove the frown from her face, and knew that she did not have the self-control she needed, so she must say only what was needful.

"You may," she nodded. "Better than standing here in the pouring rain debating the matter." Now, why had that come blurting out of her?