The White Horse Inn, Act III

[littlemanpoet]

The youth looked Eodwine over with a somewhat haughtier look than expected.

"Who is it that suggests threats against one of the Helmingas?"

Eodwine raised a brow. "We have only your word of that. Your garb, gear, and actions say you are not of such noble lineage."

"Even so, I am." The youth looked Eodwine up and down. "You have not yet answered my question. Who are you?"

"He talks like one of such lineage," Garreth said, "I'll give 'im that."

The youth flicked Garreth a glance and stood, feet well apart, facing Eodwine.

"Very well. I am Eodwine of the Gap, messenger of King Eomer. The girl you chased is a friend of mine. You still must name yourself and answer for your rashness before I show you the respect due your claim."

The youth lifted his chin so he could look down his nose at the taller Rohirrim. "I am Dégas of the Folde, and you stand between me and my twin sister."

"What!" Eodwine in surprise.

Falco strolled in front of Eodwine and looked up at Dégas, measuringly, as he puffed on his pipe. With a disgusted grimace, Dégas waved at the smoke assaulting his nostrils.

Falco took the pipe from his mouth and said, "You still haven't proved nothing but that you can make big claims. Show us who you are and maybe we'll be kind, and then only if the lady Saeryn says so. What say you?"

"Aye," Harreld grated. "What say you to that?"

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Dégas looked daggers at the men in front of him. He had travelled many miles from Minas Tirith in search of his twin. There was news she had to hear, and only from he would it be received. With the most incredible amount of luck, the young man had found her by chance, walking into an Inn in time to hear her voice. Glaring at Eodwine, he reached for his sword.

"Ah lad, you'd not be wanting to take on us all would ye?" Eodwine warned him.

"Bite your tongue man. You asked for proof, I give it freely, though for what reason my noble sister should be accounted your friend I may never know." Dégas drew his blade, flipping it deftly and handing it to Eodwine hilt first. "You have my blade. If you look to the hilt, you will notice, if you are truly my lady sister's friend, that hers is of identical make. You will also please to notice, sir, that you are now armed and I am not. Would one desiring to inflict harm pass over his only weapon of defense so freely?"

Stepping from behind, Ruthven grabbed the sword from Eodwine's hands, running knarled fingers along the flat, running ancient eyes along it's length. "'Tis the same all right, as I well saw last night." Dégas' eyes widened. He had helped his sister escape their brother... for her to come to be in an Inn at a table with people she barely knew? Where was her sense of propriety? He knew of her love of the common man, but he had always thought of it more as a theoretical love.

"Do I have your trust?" he asked shortly.

"No." Dégas' eyes flashed with impatient anger. Eodwine continued. "Lad, for all that you look like the lady, why would she run from her twin, if that be what you really are?"

"Sirs, ladies," he bowed. "It is of the utmost importance that I see my sister. If you refuse to allow me to see my own kin... I beg you to bring her to me."

[Bêthberry]

"Gentleman and good people all," intoned a voice clear with dignity and command, though not with noble hauteur. It was the Innkeeper. Bethberry stepped forward.

Dégas, if you will, please respect the rules of this Inn. It is a noble Inn with the longest and finest history in Edoras. You prove yourself honourable by passing on your sword, but do not think you can march in here and make demands upon the patrons. Or on myself."

"Who are you, woman?" asked the young man.

Eodwine's eyes flashed at the insolence and the twins rose in anger, sputtering, and Falco, why, he harummpffed in his best manner.

Bethberry raised her hand to her friends and looked the young man squarely in the face.

"Who am I indeed. It is a good question. One that many here could not answer. Yet they judge me and accept me on my manners and behaviour to them, and not by my history. I bid you show us similar courtesy."

"I beg your pardon, Madam. Where is the Innkeeper?" replied the boy, stung but not giving way his ground of self assurance.

"Where is she indeed," Bethberry remarked with a smile. "Perhaps you will sit down and show your good intentions by being a good patron of this inn. Order some ale or mead or warm drink, even a plate to fill your belly, and make the efforts of the staff here worthwhile. Give them your coin that they may go home this evening with reward for their labours. And perhaps then you will find a friendlier response to your concerns."

At which point Ruthven caught Bethberry's eye, nodded, and then wispered to Ayeth and Gudryn, "Let Saeryn know that she is not forced to make an appearance unless she wishes it under the auspices of the Innkeeper."

[Nurumaiel]

Frodides heard the raised voices and paused in her work, a little frown flickering over her face. For some time she had been listening to the faint sound of talk and laughter, and this change was abrupt, and unpleasant. Though she had no doubt that Bethberry would handle the situation well, Frodides was thankful that the children were all out of doors, and not hanging about the Common Room. That is, all but Maercwen, who had returned to help her mother with the cleaning.

"Maercwen, m'dear," said Frodides, "set down your work and go see what is amiss in the Common Room. Perhaps Bethberry will want some assistance, even if it is merely to bring a plate of food for some new guest."

Maercwen dried her hands and left, pausing a moment at the kitchen door to survey the Common Room. There seemed nothing very wrong. There were several men and girls, and they showed no attitude of trouble, save that their faces were rather dark. Bethberry stood among them, with the attitude of firmness and courtesy that was so common in her. Maercwen could not help but reflect on the previous day, when the twins had been fighting. She had spoken sharply to them to make them stop. They had stopped, but, observing the little scene before her, Maercwen wondered if would not have been better to speak to them with firmness, yet also with kindness as well.

She approached Bethberry and murmured low in her ear: "Miss Bethberry, my mother heard the raised voices, and she wonders if there is anything we might to do assist you."

[Bêthberry]

Ayeth and Gudryn had risen swiftly and followed after Saeryn, with not a little movement from Dégas towards them, but Garreth and Harreld held firm in his path, each somewhat anxious to outdo the other in terms of firmness of resolve, particularly as the girls' eyes, and there was some needling of elbows which ended only with Falco’s grunt of satisfaction when his pipe was relit. He seemed to place great stock in the power of pipeweed smoke to defeat this surly twin enemy of the young lady Saeryn.

However, Maercwen's good manners drew more than just the attention of Bethberry. The courtesy of her deportment and her civil manner brought a calmness into the Great Hall.

"This might be a fair time to share some drink and bread. Perhaps you can ask our new arrival, the young man Dégas, if he wishes to order anything. He must be thirsty after his hard ride and long searching.”

Dégas took a step back as he surmised that this woman standing before him was actually the Innkeeper. For some time he was tongue-tied in amazement. How could it be, he thought, that a decorous, respectable looking woman would be so brazen these days, as to submit to such a common occupation. He feared even more for his sister then, brought into such boon companionship. But what was he to say? He cleared his throat and stood erect.

“Madam, you see that I am unacquainted with certain parts of Edoras and persons of the community who do not appear before the Golden Hall and finer parts of the city. You must allow me to make amends for my discourtesy in not understanding your standards of deportment. While I myself am not inclined to partake of drink in this establishment, allow me to buy a round of ale for all present.” He bowed stiffly.

“Cor, what a bl…” began Falco.

“Oh, young gentleman, you are rudely mistaken if you think that we are low folk here,’ spoke up Maercwen, quite incensed by the high airs of the lad. “Some of us have attended musical performances at the Hall, and the court bard did stay with us and the Lady Eowyn herself has graced our fine hall.” She spoke with more firmness in her eyes than she had the day previously when speaking to Garreth and Harreld, but she could not stand to see such denigration of the Horse.

“No wonder the lass ran from you,” intoned Eodwine.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Saeryn stumbled into her room, frightened tears staining her cheeks. Gudryn and Ayeth followed swiftly. With a light knock, they opened her door, calling softly, to find Saeryn seated on the floor in the corner, arms wrapped bracingly around her knees. Her face was the color of milk. The girl stared past them, lost in a distant memory.

"Saeryn..." Ayeth knelt beside her, touching her hand lightly. Saeryn started back to reality, glancing at the girls.

"I... where is he?" she asked weakly.

"The young man is with our protecters... with your friends. Mistress Bethberry bids you to worry not... you need not see him and if you should desire too, you have her guardianship."

Saeryn went silent, her breath a mere whisper in the air. She glanced toward the door. "Will you stand beside me?"

"You need not even ask."

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Put in his place, although gently, Dégas looked humbly at the Innkeeper. "Mistress, I offer the most profound--"

Eodwine butted in with a grin. "Profundity is not the way to go lad... speak politely, but in real terms that real people would use. You've been amongst the self-important for too long."

His pride damaged slightly, Dégas bowed a little to Eodwine. "Sirs, ladies... Mistress Innkeeper. I am sorry. I was... I acted the fool. I beg your pardon..."

Bethberry smiled. "Now that was not so hard. Would you like a drink lad, and we can sort this mess out a bit?"

"Aye, but nothing stronger than some hot cider, if you have it."

"Now what sort of Inn would we be with no hot cider?" Bethberry sent Maercwen to the kitchen with a discreet tip of her head and a wink. Taking the young man by the elbow, with a surprised look from him, Bethberry led him to a table and sat him down. Placing herself across from him, she paused for a moment before asking gently, "Now lad, what business so brings you to The White Horse, and why, if twin she be, did the lady Saeryn run as though seeing a ghost?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Standing firmly, Saeryn walked slowly to her door. Gudryn and Ayeth followed, sharing a look. With almost forced movement, Saeryn opened the door and stepped back into the hall. Glancing back, she walked, head high, down the hallway and to the Great Hall from whence she came.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dégas felt younger than he had in years. In all his time in King Aragorn's Court, he had never felt smaller and more inexperienced. He glanced across the table into the Innkeeper's eyes, finding there pity and understanding. Finding the courage to speak, he answered truthfully. "Mistress, I cannot tell you what business brings me here, for to learn of it from one other than myself, I think would cause great harm to my sister. Why she should run... I can guess only that she thought I have come to bring her home." Feeling the presence of the twins behind him, Dégas pointedly ignored them. Falco, seeing the situation quite competently managed, hurrumphed in his best manner, returning his full attention to his food and pipe.

"And why, young sir," It was here that Maercwen returned with the cider, pressing it gently into Dégas' hands. He received it with a smile and a whispered thank you. "And why would the lady fear returning home?"

"That is a story for her to tell, if she will. I will not reveal it, if she has not." Dégas sipped his drink, savouring the rich flavour. "I do not know that she fears the return, so much as hates the very thought. She has so much freedom here, as I have..." he paused, glancing at each face. "As I have noticed."

"And why lad, should we harbor you here, when you made every effort to get your way perforce, rather than simply speaking as a civilized man, as you are now doing?"

"Why indeed." Falco grunted.

Dégas looked down into his well-dressed lap, feeling, at this moment, worse than ever. "Mistress... I came here as a hot-headed lordling, full of praise, but, as I think on it, probably deserving of little of it. I shall take you, dear lady, as you are to me, if you will forget my ill-thought actions and take me for me. I come but to see my sister, and I heeded little else in that search. I am sorry." Bethberry, seeing now the soft-spoken cheerful lad that had entered the Inn, relented. "If she consents--" She broke off, glancing to the door. There stood Saeryn, bearing herself differently than she had before. She seemed to have grown as Dégas had become smaller. Filling the door, the girl paused before proudly and calmly walking forward.

Dégas looked up from his seat, rising to meet his twin. She stopped a horse's length away, looking her brother top to toe before meeting his eyes. "Dégas, why do you come here?"

Glancing, respectfully now, at the group men around him, and the two young women flanking Saeryn, Dégas bowed yet again. "Sister dear, perhaps a private word..." He allowed the question to hang in the air.

"Whatever word you choose to speak, you may say it in front of my friends and protectors. I have known them scarce long, but hold them each in high esteem and with much affection. They shall know what you have come to say."

"Saeryn..." his eyes begged. "Saeryn, Caeli is dead. I had word from the north. She was taken on the road by a band of outlaws. You know her mind as well as I... the fight ended swiftly, with her bested. Word tells that she repaid her own loss greatly before she fell." A silent tear slid down his cheek. Silence filled the air and Saeryn processed the knowledge that her only sister was dead. Her family, scattered before, was dying almost before her eyes. Saeryn's composure broke. She ran to her twin, arms and heart outstretched, and they embraced. Quiet tears stained her cheeks as the other members of the group tried tactfully to pretend they were not there, aware of their intrusion upon this private moment of grief.

[peral]

Ayeth desperately attempted to choke back her own tears. She figured that this Caeli that was being spoken about was one of Saeryn's kindred. Staring down at the floor she thought about her own family. There were almost none left now, her father....her father! She had almost certainly tarried here in this inn far too long. Time had seemed to fly past like leaves borne on the wind and the worst things that could have happened to her father flashed through her mind. No, she promised, he will...he cannot die, not now.

She looked up at Saeryn and her brother who were in tears. It seemed such an awkward time to bring up such a seemingly unimportant subject, but it had to be done.

"Uh..." she began quietly. Harreld and Garreth gave her a questioning look. "I really should be getting back to my father now. I've been gone too long..."