Eorling Mead Hall

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine was at table with Garreth and Harreld when Modtryth and Ginna came into the Mead Hall with trays of food and drink. Eodwine saw that Ginna had got her hand wrapped, which was good.

"Well looka there!" Garreth was half whispering behind him.

"I see her," Harreld said. "In fact, I saw her first."

"I spoke of her first," Garreth shot back.

Eodwine turned about and leveled his gaze at both of the black smithing twins. "She's the daughter of a friend of mine from the War. She's likely not marriagable to the likes of you, being a landholder's daughter. So don't get your hopes up or go about strutting and showing off by word or deed, do you hear?"

"Now Eodwine!" Garreth protested. "What do you think we are? Desperate?"

"Yes," he answered, "that's exactly what the two of you are."

Garreth pulled a face, not having expected to be pinned down so easily by his own words. Then he glanced at his brother, whose eyes were still glued to Ginna. He scowled and smacked Harreld aback of the head.

"Ow! What'd you do that for!" Harreld tried to return the slap but Garreth fended it off with an elbow.

"Didn't you hear the Eorl? None of that leering!"

"Leering! Leering!!" Harreld looked indignant. "I was doing no such thing." He resumed staring, his eyes going dovey. "She's a beauty."

"Ah, that trashes it!" said Garreth. "He's gone moony just like that."

Eodwine turned away and snickered, hoping the twins couldn't see him do it. He raised his hand and called to Modtryth for food and drink. Before long Modtryth, with Ginna in tow, was headed in their direction.

[Celuien]

"So I did, Stigend." Garstan's eyes still glinted merrily. "They know well that they spent their day better in work together than they would have in their bickering, but they would rather keep their fight than show it." Garstan laughed again, shaking his head. "What a pair of proud boys we have. But they cannot keep it forever if they have more good luck together."

"I think they're just silly," Lèoðern commented airily.

"Who's silly?" Garmund came around the table with a fresh bowl of soup and a small dish of bread.

"You are." Lèoðern made a face.

In better spirits after his first helping and with Cnebba still away from the table, Garmund pointed at his sister's bowl in mock gravity. "Ha. I say it's silly to not have finished your soup by now. Last one finished is the silliest."

The children began eating as fast as they could.

[Lhunardawen]

Ginna followed Modtryth into the Hall cautiously; one accident was more than enough for her first day. But for the most part she was looking out for her father, because she was not sure she was ready to see him together with the lord.

Eodwine, seated with two men Ginna had not yet met (twins, and normal-looking ones, she was marvelled and relieved to observe), called to Modtryth, and a glance at him told Ginna what she wanted to know: her father had gone. And without even saying goodbye. She felt an unexpected pang of sadness but bitterly shrugged it off. It was better that way, she told herself, they had embarrassed each other enough.

The lord noticed her searching gaze. "Your father had left, Ginna," he said aloud. "He wished to be home not too late, and did not want to bother you and Frodides." Ginna suppressed a grunt, nodding instead. Glancing at the two unfamiliar men, she made to put the tray she carried down in front of them, beside the plates of bread Modtryth had brought.

As she did so, her arms brushed against the outstretched ones of the twins, both of whom chose that moment to reach for the bread. She instinctively drew back, blushing a little at the blunder, and smiled to indicate that no harm had been done.

The men looked up at her. "I don't think I quite caught your name," one of them said. "Where are your manners, Lord Eodwine?"

"My name is Ginna," she responded before Eodwine could say a word. "I came here just this morning, and I will be your new serving wench. Which reminds me...if you will excuse us."

She bowed slightly, and turned to walk back to the kitchen with Modtryth. She felt a flutter in her chest, and an awkward sensation of being watched. Those looks - Ginna knew them. Indeed they were all too familiar, and it worried her to see them there. There, of all places.

[littlemanpoet]

"Oh no," mumbled Garreth into his ale cup. "Look who's coming."

Harreld and Eodwine craned their necks as circumspectly as the occasion allowed, except that it was Falco with Ritun and Lefun stumping behind, coming from the back door that led to the Alder Court.

"Time for first supper!" cried Falco as he took the chair right next to Eodwine. "Here you go, Rilef!" he said slapping the seat beside him while the blacksmith twins shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

"Falco," said Eodwine, "call them by their right names out of courtesy!"

"Nay but they don't mind it a wit!" Falco rejoined. "It's easier!"

"I'm sure it is, but I'm not so sure they don't mind." Eodwine turned to the conjoined twins. "Would you not rather be called by your own names?"

"Rilef calls us both," Ritun said, shrugging his shoulders, while Lefun nodded.

Eodwine sighed. "Very well."

Modtryth came by, and Eodwine asked her for food for the three newly at the board.

"Where is Ginna?" Garreth asked Modtryth.

"In the kitchen," Modtryth replied evenly.

Harreld cuffed Garreth on the shoulder. "You leave the new wench be, brother. She's work to do. This here good wife can serve us well enough."

"And since when are you all of a care about who serves us?" Garreth asked pointedly.

Harreld's head sunk and he stared into his ale cup, muttering something unintelligible.

"You're all moony," Garreth declared.

[Thinlómien]

There was too much going on. There was this new serving wench Ginna who Modtryth had hardly even met and with who she really ought to talk with. Then there was little Cnebba, just returned from day's work. Modtryth was curious to hear what he had to say about his first day at the shepherd's (and what would be Garmund's version of it). And of course there was work to do.

Modtryth hurried to the kitchen to fetch food for the newly arrived. Frodides was there, as always, looking after the food. As soon as the old cook saw Modtryth approaching she started to ladle food out from the pot to bowls. "How many?" she asked. "Rilef and Falco, that makes two, no, three", Modtryth replied. Putting the bowls on a tray Modtryth asked: "Where's the newcomer girl? Didn't she come here? I'd like to have a few words with her." "Oh, I sent her to fetch water from the well", Frodides replied. "And don't you girls start your nice little chit-chats after the meal's over, for I can't surely look after the food and do all the serving!" "Of course not", Modtryth replied, smiling and left the kitchen with the tray.

[littlemanpoet]

"What!?" Garreth cried, his arms flying up, for Harreld had stoood up of a sudden.

"I need the latrine," he said under his breath.

"What for? Since when can't you hold your ale?"

"Shush!" Harreld said.

"Oh, I know where you're off to!" Garreth gibed.

Those at the table watched Harreld stomp off out of the Mead Hall, and turn left.

"Latrine's the other way!" Garreth shouted. Harreld turned around just long enough for everybody to see him look indignant and go very, very red in the face. Then he went into the kitchen.

"What's going on?" Falco asked.

"Nothing," Eodwine said, looking squarely at the Hobbit. The last thing he wanted was for Master Boffin to get his hobbit gossipy tongue going on this little tidbit. He rounded on Garreth, whose mouth was open ready to spit out exactly what he was thinking. "And you keep your mouth shut, Gar!"

Garreth looked stunned. "What did I do?"

~*~

Harreld made his way into, and through the kitchen. Only the cook was there, and she asked what he was wanting.

"The latrine."

"Out back!" said the cook.

Harreld made his escape through the far door and took a look around. He had never been in this part of the place before. There was a nice little courtyard a-making, with a nice slender tree in the middle of it, giving off shade. There was a bench under the tree, big enough for a few people, and there was somebody sitting on it. He took a step closer, fearing and hoping and forgetting how to think.

It was her. She turned and saw him. His tongue quit working. His brain was suddenly turned to useless sponge. He stared.

[Lhunardawen]

The jar from which Ginna had practised pouring water into cups that morning stood on the ground by her feet, once again filled with water. She knew Frodides would want her back in the kitchen quickly, as those newly come were yet to be served, but Ginna had to take a breather. Apparently her wound had not yet completely healed; the pain had returned after her effort to lift the heavy jug. It was a good thing Modtryth was there to help Frodides.

Sitting on the bench, she closed her eyes and exhaled lightly, as the throbbing in her hand continued. She had had a tiring day, one she would have to get used to, but the physical exhaustion was nothing compared to the emotional confusion she now felt. No, now's not the time to think about it. She had work to do.

Ginna slowly, reluctantly opened her eyes. She was about to stand when again she sensed someone watching her; it was an ability she had picked up and almost perfected from experience. She turned, and saw one of the twins, the one who had not talked to her. Staring.

She quickly averted her eyes and stood. She stooped and lifted the jug from the ground - too quickly, she realised, as a fresh wave of pain came to her wounded hand. The jug slipped, and if not for her quick reflexes the water would have spilled.

"Let me-" a concerned, uncertain voice came from the direction of the man, who ran approaching. She looked up.

"I'm sorry; my father told me not to speak to strangers."

The man went red as a beet. "Oh. Sorry, I won't bother you further." He turned to walk quickly away.

"Sir!" Ginna called. He stopped and turned. "If I will be serving you regularly, I should at least know your name."

"Oh. Yes. Garrold." He winced. "I mean Harreth." He winced double hard and shook his head furiously. "No! I am called Harreld." If before he had seemed beet red in the face, now he was three shades more crimson yet. "Good day." He turned to leave again.

Ginna felt a blush creeping through her own cheeks looking at the poor man. Was there any way she could make him feel more comfortable? "Please, and what of the man who had been beside you on the table, whom I can only assume is your twin brother? Surely I will be serving him as well?"

Harreld scowled. "He is called Garreth. Yes, he is my twin. He is -" He paused, seeming a bit reluctant to talk of him. "He is - quicker to speak than I." He paused again, his face working in some emotion Ginna could not discern. "He speaks too quickly sometimes."

"What do you do?"

"We're smiths." And without warning, he placed his hands on the water-filled jar left on the ground between them.

"What are you doing?" Ginna asked politely, with a hint of shyness in her voice.

"I will carry it for you, if you don't--"

Ginna had placed her hands on Harreld's, and she felt them loosen their grip on the jar at her touch. She saw Harreld, blushing more heavily than ever, look at her bandaged hand.

"B-but--"

Ginna took advantage of his loosened grip and gently pried off his fingers from the jar, placing hers on where they had been. Effortlessly, it seemed as she ignored the pain, she lifted the jar. Harreld gaped at her.

"Don't worry about me, Harreld, I'll be fine. Maybe you should go back to the Hall; your brother might be waiting for you."

She turned and walked back to the kitchen, her hair lightly swaying behind her.