Scarburg Meadhall

[Folwren]

Saeryn left the quarrel feeling wronged and guilty both at once. She wanted to go off alone to sort out her thoughts and her feelings, to figure out what she was to do next, and to cry the rest of these confounded tears. She definitely did not want to go help Frodides, who at this time of breakfast was probably at the center of all the inhabitants’ attention, but she had not made it a habit of disobeying lord Eodwine, even when he did not speak in a tone of voice worth cringing at.

And yet, she did not obey at once. She first went to her tent. She sniffed back her tears as she splashed water over her face, hoping that it would convince some of the redness away from her eyes and nose. Having done what she could, she got up, and went out.

She went to Frodides, and trying to stand so that the fewest people possible could see her face, she asked, “Do you need me to fetch you any water?”

[Formendacil]

Somewhat reeling from the activities of the morning thus far, Náin found himself strangely alone. He had not even eaten a proper breakfast yet, but already he had found deep thoughts to ponder in something completely mysterious involving Kara, that troublemaker Crabannan's memory coming back to mind--and the oddity of him popping up among Eodwine's people, of all places--not to mention Degas' confused arrival in camp. Degas wanted to see Eodwine because of Saeryn, but the Dwarf had not yet been long enough in the camp to know for certain whether she was there. If she was, it was an odd turn of events, since Náin thought she was supposed to be with the royal household, but he had long since given up expecting stability from Men, and those of noble birth had the means to wander.

In a sense, the fact that he was suddenly alone was rather odd in itself. Náin still wanted to see the Eorl, though he wasn't sure if Eodwine would want to see him, since he would probably rather send Thornden, Stigend, Garstan, or all of those three with Náin to assess the situation for building the new hall of stone, rather than attend to it in person. Still, it was the proper thing to approach the eorl first.

To that end, Náin had intended to join Degas in searching for Eodwine, but when Crabannan had become involved, the Dwarf decided he would rather wait. He had no desire to spend all morning in the troublemaker's company, and was afraid that if he found Eodwine with him, Crabannan might end up tagging along on the survey of the lands as well.

Deciding that the bit of breakfast he had had was not enough, Náin decided to head back toward where Frodides and the others were still providing food, only to discover to his chagrin that Crabannan had apparently not remained in Degas' company long. From the sour look on the troublemaker's face, Náin wondered if he might have been sent away.

Though not eager to encourage another chance encounter with Crabannan, Náin decided to risk it and get some more food, but as he approached the table, he noticed that Frodides was talking to a rather distraught looking Rohirric maiden, and he realised that Saeryn was indeed among the Eodwinelings.

The food wasn't worth getting drawn into whatever bad winds were blowing around Saeryn. Náin would have wagered quite a bit that her lack of complete composure and Degas' arrival were not mere coincidence. Very carefully, Náin turned around and decided to creep away from the breakfast table...

[Kath]

Frodides

“Do you need me to fetch you any water?”

The voice behind Frodides was quiet and not entirely steady but the old cook jumped a little nonetheless. She had been deeply engaged in straining an ear toward the conversation underway between a few members of the camp on the far side of the kitchen, which seemed to involve an excessive amount of conjecture and was all the more fascinating for it. It was for this reason that she hadn't heard the light steps behind her and why she turned round irritated at having been caught out.

"Well of course I don't, girl." She snapped, not aware whom she was addressing as she was looking down at her hands as she dried them. "That young trouble maker of Thornden's is in charge of that today as I thought everyone knew."

"I see." The quiet voice replied, and the strange catch in it finally induced Frodides to look up.

"Oh!" She cried, entirely surprised to find Saeryn standing before her. The last time she had seen the young woman Frodides hadn't thought her fit to be standing let alone offering to carry heavy objects and she said as much immediately.

"In fact," she continued as she inspected Saeryn's face a little more closely despite the girl's concerted efforts to hide it, "you look as though you've been having a rough time of it anyway."

Saeryn ducked her head even further.

"I was asked by Lord Eodwine to offer my assistance to you, and so here I am." She said simply.

"Mmhm." Frodides replied. "Well I'm sure that's not the whole tale but it will do for now. Offer your assistance indeed, you'd think he wasn't aware you'd been bedridden these last days and he certainly isn't that. Not a day goes by when he doesn't ask after your health. At any rate, you will not be wearing yourself out even if it is under his orders. I'm sure he'll regret them once he thinks them through and come to make sure you've disobeyed. Which you will." She said firmly as she saw Saeryn open her mouth to argue.

Shepherding the girl toward a chair in a part of the kitchen that was a little more sheltered from passers by she caught sight of a number of interested parties loitering in the doorway.

"Kara!" She called and was gratified to find her young protege materialising by her side in an instant. "I'm going to be busy with this young lady for a little while so you are in charge of dealing with the rest of the camp, and if I were you I'd start with those who are trying to poke their noses in where they shouldn't." She jerked her head toward the doorway and waited til Kara disappeared to do as she'd been asked.

"Now." She said, and pulled a chair for herself and little table up in front of Saeryn. She left space enough that the girl wouldn't feel trapped and would be able to leave if she wished. Given the slightly wild eyed looked of her Frodides didn't want to get in her way if she did decide to go. She placed a generous number of potatoes on the little table and laid out two knives and two little bowls.

"If you want to make yourself useful this is what I'll allow. Peelings into that bowl, potatoes into the other." She spoke simply, gesturing to make her words clear, and began the task. Saeryn followed suit slowly. "And if you'd like to tell me what's going on I'd be very happy to listen."

~ ~ ~

Kara

Having caught the meaningful look that Frodides had directed at the main nose poker at the door Kara made her way over immediately. The old cook had never taken to Crabannan and always watched him closely whenever he came her way, and as her attention was now wholly concentrated on Saeryn for reasons Kara wasn't even going to try to guess at she supposed that job had now fallen to her. It was not a prospect she relished as she rather liked the man. Their first slightly strained meeting had been followed by an apology from Crabannan for his somewhat brusque manner and a comfortable friendship had developed from then on that she was not keen to spoil by looking as though she was suspicious of him. A quick glance behind told her that Frodides was still focused on Saeryn and so she decided that for once she would pretend ignorance as to what her mentor had intended.

"Good morning!" She called cheerfully to Crabannan as she approached him in an attempt to chase away the scowl he was wearing. Pleased when she saw that she had been partially successful she continued in the same manner. "I suppose you're here in search of food like the rest of these bottomless pits?"

Crabannan gave his agreement and Kara turned to fetch him something, casting her eyes at the doorway as she did so in case there was anyone else lurking out there, either a member of the camp hanging around in hope of information about the morning's events or a stranger unsure of his welcome. What she saw made her think that it was perhaps the latter, as the figure she spied was slowly creeping away from the kitchen, yet there was something familiar about it. She thought perhaps that it was one of the boys, Javan or even Garstan, but no they had been heading off in the other direction.

'But who else could it be?' She mused, and then laughed out loud in delight and hope as a suspicion crossed her mind.

"Nain?" She called out, running to the entrance, ignoring the startled look she received from Crabannan. "Nain? Is that you?"

[Formendacil]

"Nain? Nain? Is that you?"

For a moment, Náin stiffened, caught like a terrified rabbit--albeit a terrified rabbit with enough muscle to carry a grown Man and a hammer as heavy as a small child--just as he had been trying to slink away unnoticed. But within a shaving of a second he had realised that the voice calling him was friendly, and indeed more than just friendly, but quite familiar. Letting the tenseness in his shoulders ease, he turned around and saw Kara running toward him.

Náin's first instinct when the young woman grabbed him in an impulsive hug was to stiffen up again, for Dwarves do not generally hug and Náin had always been rather bashful around human women, but he was glad to see Kara all the same--more than he had thought--and was considerably touched by her warm welcome. So he hugged back, with just enough Dwarven strength to make it precisely a bearhug--or it would have been if Náin had been closer to bear-sized, or at least Man-sized. At his height, it was something a bit more awkward, and Náin did not prolong the hug at all.

"Kara, it is very good to see you," he said, pulling back properly as quickly as he could. As fond as he was of Kara, Dwarven propriety was an overpowering instinct.

Even as he stood back, however, Náin noticed that Kara was not entirely alone, and while this would normally have made him distinctly more awkward, the fact that it was Crabannan standing somewhat away and looking both confused and curious made him cooler than otherwise.

It also reminded him of Erbrand and the trapper's reaction to the troublemaker's questioning earlier. Ignoring Crabannan as completely as he could, Náin turned back to Kara, who was expressing how good it was to see him.

"I see the move from Edoras has not harmed your health," said Náin. "Tell me"--and he unconsciously glanced at Crabannan--"what is the news about you. I mean!" he stammered. "What is new about... here. Around here."

Once again, Náin thanked Mahal that Dwarves have beards to disguise it when they flush.

[Gwathagor]

It had been a curious morning. The free and easy life which Crabannan had been living had been rattled somewhat by the arrival of Nain, whose presence served as a constant reminder of the past, his home by the mountain, and his parents: in short, of everything that he had chosen to forget when he had gone to war. Little had he suspected that only a few months later, while he was fighting alongside the Men of Gondor, the War would come to Dale. Afraid of the reproach he would face for abandoning not only his family, but his homeland, he had never gone back. It had been a long road since then, and only now, from Nain, had he learned that his father at least had indeed survived the War of the Ring.

Crabannan's mind was unsettled when he stopped by the kitchen. Too much had happened that day, too much that he was helpless to fight against. Thus, it was cheering and somewhat calming to him to see Kara for a few moments. She found him some breakfast, chattering on about the festivities that were to take place later that day (which he was happy to learn about; it meant less work and time for the harp), while he leaned outside the door. He knew Frodides was inside, and he was hardly in the mood to make himself a target for her tongue, though he had received nearly everyone else's that day.

No sooner had Crabannan received with thanks the plate offered to him, but Nain was suddenly there with them. The usually wary Crabannan, distracted as he had been by thoughts of the morning, had not noticed his approach and jumped a bit inwardly at the sight of the dwarf. As Kara and Nain exchanged pleasantries, Crabannan sat down on a handy barrel, crossed his legs, and watched them while he ate his breakfast.

And he thought for the first time about how he valued Kara's friendship, constant despite his manner and his reputation as a trouble-monger (which, though only partially deserved, was well-known throughout Scarburg).

[Folwren]

“And if you want to tell me what’s going on I’d be very happy to listen.”

Saeryn’s head bobbed in a nod, but for a minute or more, she could say nothing. There was a very large, very immoveable lump in her throat. She was thoroughly sorry for her actions by now and stuck in the kitchen as she was, she saw no possible way to rectify them. So, unable to do anything to lessen her regret, and being on the verge of tears (threatening to be almost as violent as her previous ones) she sat peeling potatoes mutely.

But one can only hold their breath so long, and like it or not, she had to breath in. The breath set off a series of short gasps, otherwise known as sobs, and she was hopelessly lost in tears for a moment.

Frodided set down her knife and reached across the table to pat Saeryn gently on the shoulder, murmuring comfortingly, “There, there, it’s alright.”

“I’ve acted such the fool, Frodides!” Saeryn sobbed out. “After he’d been gone so long and come back just for me, I treated him like nothing! I was so angry!” She wept to recall her words, and her blow. The knife was placed on the table and her face buried itself in her hands. She restrained herself suddenly, drawing her dignity back together. Her chest heaved and struggled with contained sobbing, but finally it ceased and she breathed again, hiccuping occasionally. She looked up and wiped her eyes.

“But what’s done can’t be undone, as you’ve told me before, I’m sure,” she said.

“No, certainly, you can’t cry over spilled milk,” Frodides agreed.

“And so I’ll just have to make up to him, ‘s all,” Saeryn went on with a tremble in her voice. “And Eodwine, too.” At the last word, her voice cracked and she pressed her mouth shut to keep her emotions back. She was quiet just a moment, and then, “I should apologize, right, Frodides? And Eodwine will understand, right?” Her dark eyes lifted to Frodides’ face hopefully.

[littlemanpoet]

"Or do they simply not deign to share their suspicions with you?" asked Scyld, a smirk on his face.

Rowenna could not help grinning. He was flirting, in his own way. She was beginning to enjoy herself very much. Not that she meant anything in the least to develop with this man, other than friendship based on commonality. She had her hopes set higher, much higher. But for now she could enjoy this play for what it was. She was sauntering more strongly, her hips swinging easily with the load of meat under her arm.

"Oh, no one needs to share their thought with me. I can read people like a book. You, for example, are full of talk that turns others' attention away from you to them, just as you did to me this moment. And then there's Harreld the smith. He is grievously taken with that tramp of a girl Ginna, but she has no notion what to do about it. Then there's Crabannan who makes as if he is so ready to fight but what he really wants is some companionship, and for fear of other men picks a boy to be his best friend. Well, Master Nydfara, what think you of my skill?"

She looked him full in the face with the biggest smile she had as they approached the baker.

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine listened to Degas relate the tale of the last few months. So much had filled such a short time! Eodwine had seen ships in the harbor at Minas Tirith, and so had a small store from which to imagine Degas' adventures. Far more vivid was his thought of a burned ruin and Degas' and Saeryn's dead brother amid the wreck. But then Degas left off with his tale and began his complaint about his sister. As far as Eodwine could tell, Degas was right: Saeryn was being completely unfair. He was about to say so when Degas began again, speaking of how Saeryn had changed. Eodwine's mind briefly wandered to wondering precisely what the change was (for she and he had not spoken beyond the most general things) and what had caused it, but he was brought back to the present by Degas' next words.

"I do not think it was because she did not love you. I think, perhaps, that she may have loved you almost too much. I think, perhaps, that love terrified her. She has lost every person she has ever loved. What if she lost you as well? I wonder if she left first for that reason; I wonder if she turned from you to save herself from later pain. But now... now I do not know my own sister. I do not know her heart. I do not know her mind."

Eodwine slowed his pace and looked down; Degas slowed a moment later and turned to see him let out a pensive sigh. "Love, you say." He tried to find something to do with his hands, which suddenly seemed not to know how to lay at rest at his side, and he finally folded his arms. "I do not know that she loved me. Nor do I know her heart or mind, Degas. I think that she does not know herself. Her mind seems ruled more than ever by what she feels."

"Such is the way of women, my lord," Degas grinned, perhaps hoping to lighten their talk.

"Not all women, Degas. Not women who know themselves. Your sister does not, I deem, and so I must confess to you that though as lord I succor and love her as well as any other in Scarburg, I am both drawn to her and repelled at once. Maybe, Degas, when you have settled yourself as lord in the Folde, you will wish to have your sister by your side, for she and Linduial became great friends. After all, though I may have doting eyes-" he glanced at Degas with a small grin to see the quick wince of guilt on the young man's face at being reminded of his rash words "- but I am twice her age. An old man! She would do well to find a young man her own age with whom to live out many years rather than with someone who will become an old codger to bathe and feed and change while she is yet young.

"But enough of that. Are you prepared to ask forgiveness of your sister, and to accept her apology once she has sense to give it? For you are both in the wrong."

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Degas flushed, thankful for the close cropped beard he had taken to wearing which at least disguised his red face. One of his oldest complaints: fair hair, fair skin, transparent emotions.

"I... er... I rather meant that her eyes were doting, not yours, Eodwine. Though I do hope you will still forgive me for saying it..."

Like a pup who has been caught with the morning's bacon, Eodwine thought. Degas's face was a mask of contrition.

"As for your age, you cannot pretend that it is uncommon for an older man, one whose wanderlust has mellowed, to take a younger bride. And you also cannot pretend that age will deter Saeryn. Or at least it would not have before..."

He sighed heavily. "I only wish she would tell me what transpired while I was away. Yes," he said suddenly, "of course I will ask her forgiveness. And she need not even apologize to me. I am so grateful already that she is alive; more than that I dare not ask for fear of being counted amongst those who are too lucky in life."

[Kath]

Kara

Kara had been more pleased than she had expected when Nain had returned her hug with, if not equal fervour, then at least a few seconds of true warmth. She hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable but her joy at seeing him overrode what she knew of Dwarves and their discomfort with such shows of affection, and it delighted her that he was willing to forgive the action. His words, however, were as proper as they had ever been, and she noticed with a tinge of confusion that his old habit of stammering around her seemed to have returned.

"I see the move from Edoras has not harmed your health, what is the news about you. I mean! What is new about... here. Around here."

He had said, falling over his words and meanings as he went. She wondered whether it was simply that he had been away for such a time and had forgotten his ease with her, but as he had spoken she had seen his eyes flicker to a point behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder while Nain was studying the floor told her that the source of his slight distraction had been Crabannan, who was still eating but was now frowning again. Kara remained confused, but was determined to enjoy her friend's company for now and figure it all out later.

"There is little news about me if you did want to know," she said, tongue in cheek as his eyes flicked up to hers for a moment, "except that I think I may finally have convinced Frodides to stop looking over my shoulder at everything I do. As to what is new around here, well, I think you can see that for yourself! We have a fair amount of work to do yet but much has been done already in rebuilding this place, and there are also a number of new faces. In fact here is one now."

She stood aside slightly so that Nain's view of Crabannan was no longer blocked.

"This is Crabannan who has been with us near a month now I think. Crabannan this is Nain, who was a guest at the old Hall and is a very good friend of mine."

The two males shot glances at both each other and at her, and after a pause Kara gave up. Proper introductions could wait for another time if they were determined not to speak to one another.

"Well, at any rate." She said, interrupting the staring contest. "It is so good to see you Nain, are you to stay with us again?"

~ ~ ~

Frodides

Frodides had not been surprised when the young woman before her had burst into tears, she was only glad that she had given Saeryn the blunted knife considering the number of hurts they had in the kitchen even when her girls weren't sobbing their hearts out. She still had no real idea what had occurred, Saeryn's words had been impassioned rather than informative, but that didn't mean she couldn't offer generic wisdom. The soothing comments had seemed to help, Saeryn was now sitting upright again with a determined look in her eyes, but now the girl was looking for real advice and Frodides had to use her considerable number of years at the centre of all gossip as well as her knowledge of the people involved in order to try and work out something relevant to say.

"And so I’ll just have to make up to him, ‘s all, and Eodwine, too. I should apologize, right, Frodides? And Eodwine will understand, right?”

"I suppose 'him' is Degas is it?" Frodides inquired gently, having come to this conclusion due to the warmth that filled Saeryn's voice even as she cried.

"It is." Saeryn agreed.

"And you've offended him somehow? Eodwine too?"

Saeryn nodded miserably.

"Well then," Frodides said with a sniff, "I think an apology would work wonders. Your brother couldn't stay angry with you however hard he tried, it's not in his nature to take against you, and I think the same is true of Eodwine."

The slight smile that appeared on Saeryn's face as she spoke encouraged Frodides to continue. She was saying only what she thought and wasn't pretending otherwise but she was quite sure of herself all the same.

"You apologise to them when they come to their senses and come to find you," she said, patting Saeryn's hand, "and I'll wager you will find them both very understanding. No don't go looking for them now," she continued as Saeryn made to get up and leave, "if you interrupt them you might find they haven't calmed down quite enough for your apology to be heard. You stay here and let yourself calm a little more, and then it should be smiles all round when the time comes. Alright?"

[Groin Redbeard]

It had been quick work cutting out the design for the last bit of the saddle and now his hands were busy sewing the last flap across the the underside of it the saddle. A smile slowly began to appear on his face as his work neared completion. He was very much amazed at the speed of his work, although it had been a small amount of work it was tedious and it pleased him that he coped with it so well.

Erbrand glanced up from his work, the unusual smile still holding, a breeze was in the air and there were just enough clouds in the sky to allow sufficient sunlight and shade for the day. He looked forward to the festivities that would take place later. However, the tranquility was short lived. The silence was broken by what sounded to him to be a snap, like someone grasping a dried stick in their hand and braking it over their knee. Erbrand's head popped up from his work at the unexpected noise, and looked around for what might have caused it. Around twenty paces behind him stood Eodwine with a person he had never seen before. The man's cheek was red and Saeryn, who was facing the stranger, looked as if she was crying. Erbrand's care free smile quickly faded from his face, and a look of concern took it's place, but man's voice was soon raised and Erbrand guessed from what he was saying that he was Saeryn's brother Degas. He had heard about him from Frodides and the kitchen ladies.

"Can't we have one day of peace without people getting in a tizzy." he muttered to himself as he put the final stitch work on the saddle.

It was then that he heard the stern words of Eodwine: "Go at once!" The argument had settled down between the two siblings, but it irritated Erbrand to see such a public display of emotions and feelings that he was subjected to listen to. With a growling sigh he lifted up the saddle upon his shoulders and walked towards the stables. They were not fully built yet, but Stigend had done an admirable job with making some makeshift pens to keep the horses in.

The saddle was complete and he turned it over and examined it from many angles. Yes, it was of good quality and would last a long time. He took pride in the fact that he was and expert in his field, but it was a humble pride that he would keep only to himself. This first saddle would be a gift for Léof, the boy who watched after the horses. The boy had taken great care of the Meadhall's horses and Erbrand admired the unselfish hard working boy. Traveller had never been in better hands and almost obeyed Léof more than Erbrand.

Léof was grooming the horses as Erbrand approached. The boy paid no attention to him as he came closer, softly humming to the horse he was grooming.

"Good morning," said Erbrand, raising his hand in a friendly wave as he came closer and placed the saddle on one of the stalls. "I've brought you something, Léof, I just finished it this morning."

Léof put down his brush and picked up the saddle. "Where should I put it?" he asked in indifference.

Erbrand lowered his head and chuckled, "The saddle is yours," he said, "I thought it was high time that you have a proper saddle after the incident with the fire," he bit his lip and lowered his head as the boy eyed the saddle over, "Do you like it?"

[Firefoot]

A look of amazement and gratitude slowly crossed Léof’s face as he took in what Erbrand was saying. The saddle was not for the Hall’s general purposes – it was for him. Speech temporarily left him, long enough for the other man to ask with some uncertainty, “Do you like it?"

“This is fine work!” Léof exclaimed, now surveying the saddle with greater attention, running his hand over the stitching and appreciating the craftsmanship. “Far nicer than – than the one I lost.” A shadow crossed his face at the words. The one he lost – Herefola would always be “the one he lost.” Léof hurried on, not wanting to dwell on it. “For all the time and work you put into this – it must be worth far more than ever I could pay you–”

“It is a gift, Léof,” broke in Erbrand. “If you prefer, consider it thanks for your care of Traveller.”

And Léof again had no words, unaccustomed as he was to such tokens of kindness. More often than not he kept to himself and went relatively unnoticed by the others of the Hall, and since the fire he had receded even further into himself as a general rule. He did his work, and it was enough; the horses were his companions. “Then I accept your gift,” he said finally, “and I thank you for it. I shall have to try it out soon; it has been a while since I have taken Æthel out riding anyway.”