Eorling Mead Hall

[littlemanpoet]

Falco glanced at the two boys, Léof and a new one he hadn't met yet who was staring unabashedly at Lefun and Ritun. Falco rolled his eyes.

"Oh for the love o' Lobelia!" he cried. "Can't we go nowhere without sommat up and deciding to gawk?"

Falco was beginning to wonder if bringing Lefun and Ritun to the Eorling Mead Hall had been such a grand notion after all. He looked back at Lefun, and Ritun, in turn, and could see on their faces that they were pained but in a half smiling way which probably meant that they were more or less used to this.

"Sorry about this," he said to them. "Good morning to you Léof! Who's your gawking friend?"

[Firefoot]

As uncomfortable as Falco’s bluntness was, Léof was grateful for it; it gave him something else to focus his attention on than that… that two-headed… whatever it was. He had little doubt that it had been the cause for the scream, and since it didn’t seem vicious, Léof figured the scream had been from fright rather than from pain.

“This is Javan, Thornden’s younger brother,” answered Léof, keeping his gaze firmly on Falco lest he begin to gape again. “He has been given a week’s trial as my assistant in the stables.” Léof glanced over at Javan, who had at first dropped his gaze at Falco’s reproof but was now beginning to stare again. Léof nudged him slightly with his elbow, and Javan didn’t seem to know where to look.

“And, um, what about you, Falco?” asked Léof, too casually. “Who is your new friend… friends…?”

[littlemanpoet]

"These are Lefun and Ritun," answered Falco.

This Léof was a smart one. Falco appreciated that. He'd seen the nudge from the older boy to the younger, and that it had made little difference. This Javan was obviously a sheltered lad who needed to see the world a bit more than he had till now. These thoughts passed through his mind in a moment as he introduced the twins.

"They've been making do as best they could out by the ruins that Garmund and I - and your older brother Thornden -" he glanced Javan's way to include him "- went to just yesterday. We found 'em there and we asked 'em if they'd like to come on by here and live better. Right?" Falco looked to the twins for their nods.

Ritun, who was situated behind Lefun, nodded his head while his brother spoke.

"Asked to come we wert, and said aye."

"There you have it," Falco said. "So what duties are you leaving unattended to come gawk?"

“We’re not leaving any duties,” Javan blurted out. “I mean, we were just grooming some horses. We came because we heard someone screaming.” He finally looked away from Lefun and Ritun and his eyes settled on Falco. They were still as round as saucers and nearly as large. Falco’s face wore a look of unveiled annoyance and Javan swallowed, abruptly realizing that he was still staring, even if it wasn’t at the twins. He dropped his gaze and looked at the ground, sending small glances up at the hobbit and then at Lefun and Ritun. “What did she scream for?” he asked.

Falco pointed at Lefun and Ritun with his thumb. "Because she saw these two unexpected like. But she's fine now and so are we, and there's your answer. Now off you run back to your duties so's the twins an' I can sit in peace back here."

The two boys did not leave.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

Léof was frowning. "For better courtesy, sir!"

Falco's eyes had their turn at going wide. "Well, I guess you're right. Well then, please do accept my apology for my annoyed words. And if you would please excuse us, we will retire to the bower. Good day!" Falco turned and began walking to the Alder Tree Court.

His words were hardly better, as their meaning was no different than the first time; but the form was right enough. The two boys finally turned away and went back to the stables, not without frowning glances.

[littlemanpoet]

The sun was moving toward setting. Eodwine had seen Randvér off, who, though Eodwine had tried to convince him to stay, had wished to be back home not long after nightfall. "Take care of my daughter," he had said, "and do not fear to whip some sense into her."

"Whip? I should think not!"

"Do not relent from needful discipline, then."

"I will do what must be done, friend Randvér. Trust me."

"I do! 'Tis her I do not trust. Fare well!"

Shaking his head, Eodwine had watched him ride off away. As he watched, he saw the blacksmith twins making their way from their shop to the Mead Hall.

"Greetings, Garreth! Greetings Harreld!"

"Good even to you!" they replied.

The three traded the day's news as they walked into the Mead Hall, and found a table near the kitchen.

"Is that two headed man still around?" asked Garreth warily.

"No. There is no two headed man. There are twins who are joined at the waist, whose names are Lefun and Ritun. Now stop being such orcs about it and let be! They are twins as much as you, except that they have had the misfortune of having to share the same pair of legs."

"Hmmm," Harreld murmured, "maybe it would be good to have a talk with them. It might be good to get to know another pair of twins, no matter how many or few legs they have between them."

"That's the spirit!" Eodwine clapped.

"Fine, fine, fine," Garreth said. "I'm hungry and thirsty. Where's that Kara?"

"Off for the day," Eodwine replied, "but we have a stand in. I should think she'll be out and about shortly."

[Nogrod]

"So lads, how was your day?", Stigend asked the two dirty and grim-looking boys as they came to the table with their bowls. Without a word or a glance they both started spooning their soups. It seemed neither of them was exactly willing to answer Stigend's question.

"Proper work makes a hungry man..." Garstan said in amusement and smiled to Stigend who nodded him back approvingly.

"But you know what? I can already write the letters A, D, E, F and G!" Leothern who was also sitting at the table declared full of pride. "And tomorrow I will learn a lot more!"

"Hush, Leothern!", Garstan turned to his daughter with a look that made her turn back to her own bowl.

..........
The boys had spent their day at shepherd Ordulf's place just outside the town. He had asked for men to hire from the Mead Hall to help him with the shearing yesterday but lord Eodwine had then had to turn him back emptyhanded as the renovation was taking all the men in the Hall and there were no free hands to spare. So lord Eodwine had been most relieved when he had heard the plan of Garstan and Stigend this morning. He had been happy enough to actually give the men freedom to bargain a deal with Ordulf as they saw fit.

The fathers had taken the two somewhat resisting boys to Ordulf's place after breakfast. The old shepherd was delighted with his new, although unexperienced farmhands. He would have the boys for five days and learn them the trade. He was also given free hands with the discipline as long he would stay reasonable, and he should provide the boys with a lunch once a day. Garstan and Stigend were offering the labour for free but Ordulf insisted that the Mead Hall would get at least one lamb for it's help to him. He also suggested that if the boys would turn out handy helpers he would provide them with enough of their self-sheared wool to make two small winterjackets out of. The fathers had approved the deal and thanked the shepherd from his generosity and Old Ordulf begged the men to send his warm thanks to the lord of the Mead Hall.

..........
The boys were back now after their first actual day of work in their life.

Neither seemed to be in too high spirits and they seemed to concentrate only in their eating. But soon their bowls were licked clean from every last drop in them and all the crumbs of bread had been picked by their little but dirty fingers. They clearly couldn't prolong it anymore.

"I'm tired dad... Can I go to sleep?", Cnebba asked his father looking straight into his eyes, now using his begging expression Stigend had always found so hard to resist. But here, in front of all the others he had to colden his heart and take a firmer stance.

"Well, you two tell us how your day went first. You may possibly have a bit lighter go with your evening studies today as it's your first day... I quess?", Stigend searched for any compassion or backing from Garstan's eyes, but wasn't too sure of his expression.

"Did the sheep stink as bad as you two do?", Leothern asked, attempting a purely curious tone in her voice.

[Celuien]

Knowing well that Lèoðern's voice held poorly hidden merriment, Garmund frowned. "It's not so funny. You'd stink too if you had to fight the sheep."

"Fight the sheep? The nice little lambs? Why would you do that?" Now she was laughing.

"They aren't so nice when you're trying to take their wool," he grumbled. Garmund snatched a leftover heel of bread and tore it with his fingers. He was still hungry, never having worked so hard in a day before in his life.

"Surely the work cannot have been as bad as that?" Garstan asked.

"Yes it could," Garmund said, shooting a glare at Cnebba. "But it didn't have to be. It didn't start out quite as bad as it turned out to be."

"It wasn't my fault!" Cnebba protested.

"Yes it was. You let go."

"You nicked her skin and she twisted away!"

Stigend, seeing a fresh quarrel brewing, interrupted. "Now boys. Don't fight. What happened? From the beginning."

The boys glared at each other for a moment. Then Garmund began to tell the story.

"It wasn't so bad at first. Old Master Ordulf showed us how to shear the first sheep."

"Then we tried to shear a little while he helped us hold the shears."

"Then he said we could try ourselves while he watched."

They fell silent again, staring angrily.

"And then?" asked Garstan.

"Cnebba was trying to hold her and I had the shears..."

"And that's when the sheep got away."

"Yes. Do we have to go back?" The boys sounded glum.

Garstan looked at the boys, both amused and pitying.

"Well, you have had a hard day. But nothing worth having comes with ease. I think you, Garmund, must go back for the rest of the week. And I think that you will find that the job is easier if you can learn to work well with Cnebba. As to the lessons for tonight, I have not decided. I am not sure that you can pay mind to your book well after a long day of work. What do you think, Stigend?"

[Kath]

Frodides had left Ginna to her own thoughts while she swept up the mess on the floor. After all, a little bit of peace and quiet would do the girl good after the shock she'd just had. Even so, she had kept a close eye on her as she'd bustled around the kitchen making just enough noise that her presence would remain obvious. Frodides had seen the look on Ginna's face as she had met her father's disapproving eyes, and she didn't think anyone who looked as devastated as Ginna had at that moment should be left to their own devices. But it was at a moment when Frodides had her back to her newest charge that Ginna finally seemed to come back to reality.

"Thank you." Came the soft voice, and Frodides turned to see Ginna lazily stirring her hand around in the bowl. 'Perhaps not quite back with us yet.' The cook thought with a small smile, as Ginna wasn't even looking at her.

"You're welcome." She said aloud, and allowed the smile to grow as the girl jumped and shot a startled look in her direction, a blush spreading over her face as she realised that she had been heard. "Now let's take a look at that hand."

Ginna had lifted her hand carefully from the water and allowed Frodides to inspect it, salve it and bandage it with little more than a wince. Carefully she experimented with it, wiggling her fingers and making a fist, smiling as she found that she could do both without it hurting too badly.

"Better?" Frodides had asked, receiving an enthusiastic nod in return. "Good. Then shall we get on with what we were doing before? It's getting closer to suppertime now and I could still use some help."

"Are you sure you want me to help?" The girl had replied, fidgeting nervously as she spoke. "I - I made such a mess last time."

"And no doubt you will again. You're learning, and you're not yet used to the strange happenings that go on here. Just wait though, and you'll soon find that a Hobbit with three feet attached to his head could wander through this kitchen and you'd not bat an eyelid."

Ginna had smiled at the image even as she shook her head in disbelief, and the apparent confidence that Frodides was showing in her soon had her following orders and helping with preparations as best she could. The two had worked quietly but comfortably until suppertime had arrived, and were just preparing to begin taking the evening meal out to the Hall when Ginna spoke up again.

"Frodides, am I to serve all this by myself? I don't yet know what I am doing, and I don't know how much I can carry at once."

A sigh escaped Frodides' lips as she considered her answer. Of course the girl shouldn't be working alone. With an injured hand on top of inexperience there was no telling what kind of mishaps would occur. But what was she to do? Kara was gone, Saeryn who had so kindly helped when needed was gone, and even Modtryth ...

"Another new arrival? Frodides your kitchen will soon be overflowing with workers!"

Eyes moving toward the door Frodides saw the welcome figure of the woman she had just been thinking about. Quickly relieving her of cloak and basket she explained the situation and received a promise of help in answer.

"Alright Ginna, Modtryth shall be your guide for this evening. Let her help you and learn as you go."

Putting a tray of bowls of soup into Ginna's hands and plates of bread into Modtryth's she sent them on their way before a reply could come from either and went back to work, praying that there wouldn't be another disaster before the day was through.

[Lhunardawen]

What moments ago was a stinging pain on Ginna's palm had diminished to a dull throb. Frodides was right - the wound wasn't deep. Ginna had watched as blood spilled generously from the cut, swirling, staining the water pink, and then, overwhelmed by it, vanishing. Now the spectacle of liquid converging with liquid was over, leaving the water to dance contentedly by itself as Ginna's fingers wriggled in its midst, delighting in its soothing coolness.

Ginna turned to watch Frodides sweep away the debris on the floor. Stupid girl, of course there's a broom, she silently berated herself. She looked again at her wound. It still smarted a bit, but once bandaged she knew it would no longer be a bother. She had been hurt worse.

The last traces of the broken dishes had disappeared beneath the broom, and along with it came a little of Ginna's guilt and shame. Perhaps, she thought, Frodides was not at all as stern as she first appeared. What the Lord Eodwine - and her father - had to say on what happened she was yet to hear, but for the moment she was spared from the judgment. It was as though Frodides knew exactly how she felt.

"Thank you," Ginna sighed, supposedly meant for her ears alone, but too deep in her own thoughts she did not hear how silent the kitchen had become.

[Kath]

The new turn in the conversation had Kara fascinated. She had never met a Dwarf until Náin arrived at the Hall and so knew very little about them. The idea that someone could be considered young at 53 was amazing to her. Why, Frodides wasn't a great many years from that age and Kara thought of her as an old woman!

"Dwarves must live to a great age then. For you to be considered the same age as I am you would have to live at least twice as long." She commented.

"That is true," he replied with a nod, "and when war or other troubles do not cause us to die earlier than we should we do live longer than humans."

Kara paused for a moment to ponder on what those other troubles could be. She had never heard of a Dwarf getting sick, though perhaps they were like the men of her own home town who would force themselves into the fields despite raging fevers rather than admit they were ill. A more burning question than that was in her mind though, and she chose to ask that instead.

"Is that why you don't make friends with them? Humans I mean. Because you would be sad to lose their company when they die and you don't?"

The question seemed to startle Náin as he didn't reply immediately. Suddenly worried that perhaps this was something he would rather not have thought of Kara made to change the subject again, but was interrupted by the Dwarf's thoughtful answer.

[Formendacil]

"Is that why you don't make friends with them? Humans I mean. Because you would be sad to lose their company when they die and you don't?"

Náin was, as Kara seemed to perceive, startled by her question, but unlike some of the previous topics discussed, he did not find this to be an uncomfortable topic, though it did merit thought.

"No..." said Náin uncertainly, pausing in his stride to consider. They were standing amid the old Gondorian ruins by now, and Náin found the ancient, crumbing masonry an aid to clarifying his thought.

"It is a truth that certainly does not encourage our interaction," admitted Náin, on second thought, "but I do not think it is the full tale. Much has been said of the secrecy of the Dwarves by your peoples, and there is some truth to them. The keeping of secrets, once entrusted, and the preservation of who we are as a people is deeply important to a Dwarf. Men, by contrast, betray lightly secrets a Dwarf would hold to his death. And Man is always looking forward to new horizons, new seasons, and new ways of doing things. This is hard for a Dwarf to perceive. If something is not broken, we do not seek to replace it."

"But Dwarves are supposed to be clever artificers," said Kara. "I'd have thought you liked tinkering with things."

"With things, yes," said Náin, leaning on a low stone wall, and looking not at Kara, but at the White Mountains behind them. "With tools and toys and trinkets. But with home and culture?" He shook his head. "We would not rest after we were expelled from Erebor, for it was our home and it was how life was meant to be. Even a thousand years and more since Khazad-dûm was barred to our return, we have felt exiled. Our tongue changes not over the centuries, nor do we forget our histories or our families. We are like rocks, changing only slightly over time."

Náin turned back to Kara, who was not looking at the mountains, but watching him.

"Great friendships have been struck between Men and Dwarves before," he continued. "The entire nations of Dale and Erebor testify to this. You are correct that it is not easy for a Dwarf to lose a friend in what seems a cruelly premature fashion. We do not befriend easily, nor do we take to the loss of friendship easily."