Scarburg Meadhall

[littlemanpoet]

"I believe you will," Eodwine replied with a serious smile. "Let us go to Saeryn now. She will be glad to see you." He turned to Stigend and Thornden. "I think now that I will be going to Edoras tomorrow instead of today. So let us set aside the work for one day and take joy in what has been accomplished. Go tell the others to prepare games, singing, and dance for the rest of the day."

"Aye, lord!" the two said, and made their way to family and friends. Crabannan had stood a little back from the others, listening, and strolled after the two leaders. Eodwine turned to Degas.

"Tell me of your adventures while we walk, Degas."

As Degas related what had happened during the last months, Eodwine paid heed to his tale, but also thought on Degas' first words once he had known that Saeryn was safe: 'She loves you... trusts you... There is no other man she would look to for safety the way she trusts in you to care for her, to respect her and love her.' Eodwine had been reserved with her, and she with him for the last month. There had remained a barrier that both seemed silently to agree upon. And now with these words, Degas threatened to demolish the barrier at a stroke. But was Degas right? Eodwine was not sure. That Saeryn trusted him for protection, he had no doubt. That she respected him as lord of this folk and place, he accepted. Even to care for her needs was befitting of his role. But love? He had not allowed himself to think on it at all. Now it was thrust upon him by her brother. He was not at all sure that she loved him, and he was less sure that he loved her. There was a subtle change in her and he did not understand it; or, was the change in him? Had he become hardened to her? Was this the barrier? Had she perceived it and dared not test it? He allowed a sigh.

"Do I bore you, Eodwine?"

"Oh, no. The weight of lordship and all that."

"Even on a day of celebration?"

"Yes," Eodwine grinned ruefully, "even on such a day as this."

They had come to the area of the tents and asked for Saeryn. She had been seen going to the smith. They made their way to the smithy; the door was open and Saeryn could be seen standing in the doorway, speaking to Harreld, who was hidden beyond the doorframe. With a glance she noticed them coming toward the smithy before she recognized who it was. Then she looked a second time, her eyes widening.

[Firefoot]

“Have you not?” asked Scyld mildly, his tone and expression belying the rapid pace of his thought. Had he misspoken? Was there indeed no suspicion? All the better for it. If this was so, however, he was a poorer judge of men than he had thought; that first day he arrived, the Eorl had seemed more skeptical of his story than Scyld had hoped. But regardless of whether Eodwine and the others had believed him, they had accepted him into their midst, which is all he wanted. Trust could come later.

But now Rowenna was getting too nosy; she needed to be put on the defensive. What sort of barb, he wondered, would best get under her skin? He continued, a slightly condescending tone in his voice: “Well, nor have I, but most folk would hardly say such a thing to a man’s face. So the question is, is there truly no one who suspects? Or do they simply not deign to share their suspicions with you?”

[Folwren]

“How do you like Scarburg, Lady Saeryn?” Harreld asked.

“I’m surprised you ask: you used to never like talking - much less seek conversation - with me, or any other woman.” Harreld again grinned, this time without looking at her - he was back at work. Saeryn went back to his question. “I like Scarburg very well,” she answered. “I prefer it to Edoras. There seem not to be as many prying eyes, or people watching over lord Eodwine’s shoulder to make sure he does everything right.” Saeryn did not say who she meant. She heard footsteps approaching the smithy. “Anyway,” she continued, absently glancing out to see who it was, “I think as soon as the hall is built, everything will be in excellent...is that -?” She looked again. Her simple glance had caught sight of two familiar figures - one familiar, but not at all expected. The second look confirmed it and she turned fully around. But she didn’t take any steps forward to meet them.

Her mind was bewildered. When Degas hadn’t come earlier she had thought he was dead. She had imagined herself the only one of her family alive, able to do as she decided with no other one to tell her what to do, no one compelling her to leave ever again. On the other hand, it was a good thing he was still alive, and it could conceivably be a good thing he was here now. But she didn’t know what to say or how to feel.

She didn’t notice Eodwine as he came and stepped aside to let Degas come up to his sister. She didn’t hear Eodwine explain that he came that morning searching for her. She just saw Degas, and all she heard were her own questions, two of which finally came out, opposing each other - “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you come sooner?”

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Degas let his hands fall though they had risen to embrace Saeryn. "What am I doing here?" he repeated blankly, "Why didn't I come sooner?"

She stood silently, and it seemed to Degas that she was angry. No, not angry: furious. But why? What in the world had happened in his absence? And surely she knew he had been in Gondor, with Linduial's kin? Surely she understood that after he left her to return to Farlan, he did not stray from his duties there? He had had no obligation to the Folde, with Fenrir's unstoppable might governing the people there, but he had obligation to his betrothed's people. Surely Saeryn knew that he was in Gondor as a matter of duty and love, rather than as an escape from her? Or--

Except nothing made sense.

"Saeryn..." he began, looking over her shoulder to Harreld, who shrugged, and Eodwine who raised an equally baffled eyebrow. "I came to find you. Even the Three Hunters could not travel more quickly than I did when at last I heard of... of whatever transpired here. Saeryn, you must tell me... What has happened to our... land of birth? Why did you go back when you were under the care of Lotheriel? How many are dead? Is everything destroyed as I have heard? Saeryn, you must stop looking at me as though I am all that you fear and more. Do you not know your own brother when you see him? I, Degas, who helped you to abandon our childhood home in the first place? I, Degas, who found you with Eodwine, who wish you only the best? Saeryn, for the sake of all that you hold dear, speak to me!"

[Folwren]

“Speak to you,” Saeryn whispered in reply. She cleared her throat and spoke in a level voice. “What is there to say? Why are you suddenly interested now?” His many questions resounded in her head, along with the thought ‘you should have been there so you wouldn’t have had to ask’. She turned abruptly and walked away. She felt the rigidness in her body, the heat in her mind, and she knew that somehow she was being unreasonable. But then, at the same time, she wasn’t.

Degas followed her, pleading, “Saeryn, please.”

And finally she turned, a torrent of words pouring forth. “Why weren’t you there when we needed you? At least you could have stood where you belonged, for once, instead of running away from a difficult situation! Running after love, were you? Well, I hope you found it. Fenrir and I paid your price for you. I guess now you intend to waltz back in and claim the place, being the only heir left! I hope they burn you like they did Fenrir - though there’s no hall left to do it proper in!” She began crying now - angry, vicious tears that had been impossible to cry ever since the attack.

“I went back because I was tired of being a coward. Tired of running away. I didn’t belong anywhere, except home! That’s why! At least it was home!” She wanted to say more, but she couldn’t. Sobs choked her. Degas tried to approach and comfort her, but Saeryn recoiled and struck out at him. She slapped him.

[Gwathagor]

Crabannan had followed Eodwine and Degas to the smithy, and now watched this exchange with a mixture of fascination, surprise, and distaste as their drama unfolded and Saeryn berated her brother. Family quarrels were always the worst, as he knew all too well, but it seemed to him, as the tone of the meeting began to escalate, that Degas was getting the worst of things.

And then, suddenly and unexpectedly, Saeryn slapped him. She slapped him with a sheer fury that nearly made Crabannan's jaw drop open. He knew at once he had overstayed his welcome but he found himself smiling nonetheless and in spite of the gravity of the situation. My kind of gal, he thought, almost subconsciously - and only half-serious.

There was a stunned silence which quickly began to verge on the awkward. Even Saeryn seemed a little shocked at what she had just done, and Harreld - poor Harreld looked as if he wished the earth would swallow him alive.

"Harreld," he said abruptly, "Would you care to break the fast with me? I was just on my way."

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Degas glared at Crabbanan and Harreld as though daring them to move, though he knew this encounter deserved as few witnesses as he could manage. Still, it infuriated him to think of these two men discussing his personal quarrel with his mad sister at the breakfast table. Who would they tell first? How long would it be before the entire population of Eodwine's household stood in an arc around them, betting on who would be the victor?

He growled.

"Home?" he asked, his voice low, but still even, "Still home, even after our sister died, and you spent - how long, a year? Two? Silent!

"Home, which you left without saying goodbye to seek for our dead parents? Men of Rohan rarely lie, twin," he spat, "Did you disbelieve the messenger who came to bear us news of their death? You must have, or you were seeking an excuse to leave. I had no obligation at home, except perhaps to develop intimate alliances, which I have done! The lords of Gondor know me. Imrahil shall be my uncle. My uncle! You? If you had done your duty and married, there would be an heir besides me! But instead you ran away to become a servant in the house of a stranger! A position which did not at first exist because-" he spat, "-at first the place you stayed was an Inn! And the man you served with doting eyes--"

Degas fell silent, guiltily, eying Eodwine with sudden apology. He took fast breaths, trying to calm his speeding heart, trying to disperse his rage. He saw the expressions on the faces around him, and knew that he had taken one step too far. But was it too late to step back? His heart raced as he tried to remember lessons of diplomacy -- and failed.

[littlemanpoet]

He knew he should have intervened sooner. Why had he let this go on so long? Because you wanted answers and hoped to have some from this conversation which is no business of yours. Nor anybody's else for that matter. And what was Crabannan doing here?

Harreld peeked his head out of the smithy. "Did someone call me?"

"Crabannan, you are dismissed to break your fast. Harreld has work to do. Degas, you will come with me at once. Saeryn, go help Frodides."

Each of them hesitated and stared at him, as if questioning his right to say what he had said.

"Go at once!" All of them startled as if suddenly awakened from a trance, and each of them except for Degas moved away, Crabannan with his shoulders bent in sullenness, Saeryn with her back straight in dignified offense. Eodwine had avoided her eyes for he did not want to see an accusing look; and therefore did not see what look she sent his way if any.

He felt the contortions in his face slowly dissipate as the rage that had poured into his three word command slipped away. He looked at Degas who sat waiting, busy with his own thoughts.

"That did not go well, Degas," Eodwine murmured, saying the obvious to fill the aching silence. "Let us walk along the borders of Scarburg. I would that you speak your mind to me." They began walking in silence, which would do for now, for Eodwine had thoughts of his own with which to wrestle. He was not at all pleased with Saeryn's behavior. He recalled the words he had spoken to Rowenna a month ago as to what he wished for in a wife. At this point, things lay in Rowenna's favor. A shame that he did not have that gut interest in her that drew him to Saeryn.