Scarburg Meadhall

[Formendacil]

The rope-tie race was ending when Náin began to make his way back to the Eodwiningas' camp. The Dwarf had disappeared much earlier in the morning, not long after Lithor had begun to round people up for the games, for he had no interest at all in the peculiar competitions of Men. On the contrary, he was somewhat disgruntled (a situation not helped by his lack of sleep) at discovering that the day was to be wasted. It was not that Náin begrudged the Men their pastimes--odd though they were--but rather that he had been intending to get started that day with surveying the situation for the construction of the Mead Hall.

Eodwine, Garstan, Stigend, and anyone else that might otherwise have been deputized to join Náin were naturally preoccupied with the games, so the Dwarf made a tour of the construction site on his own, followed by an inspection of the materials that Eodwine's men had gathered thus far, and then a long jaunt over the surrounding land to see where and how a quarry might be situated, for Eodwine was going to need more stone than he thought if he wanted a proper, stone Mead Hall.

As industrious a Dwarf as Náin was, however, his chief purpose in the exercise was to avoid having to be present at the games. From his time in Edoras, he was already well acquainted with the Mannish friendship and enthusiasm that would likely have resulted in many invitations to partake in the games. That was all very well for a Hobbit, Náin huffed to himself, but no Dwarf was interested in competing in a Mannish sport. For one thing, there was no field where Náin thought there could be a fair competition, and for another, he was inclined to feel that events were a bit ridiculous. No Dwarf cares to look ridiculous, and certainly not one as reserved as he was.

Eventually hunger returned as the afternoon progressed, so Náin made his way back to the Men, hoping they were far enough into their games that he could avoid any attempts to talk him into participating. He decided not to ask Frodides or anyone else from the kitchen about food before supper, but he did hope that supper would be ample, and between the emptying stomach and the long day, he was aware he was becoming more irritable.

This irritability was manifesting itself in the Dwarf's outlook on the gathering. Men were such a raucous bunch! And so preoccupied with their physicality! Perhaps, he thought, it was that they were bound to their bodies for so short a time that caused it, but it seemed to him that Men were vastly more likely to engage in things like rope-tie races that were of little competitive value. The examples of Lithor and Eodwine, and Garstan and Stigend, did seem to countermand this slightly, but as far as Náin could see, the rope-tie race was little more than an excuse for Erbrand to hug Kara for a few minutes. The obvious pleasure that the trapper was deriving from the experience baffled Náin somewhat, since it looked manifestly awkward, but he had become used to the strangeness of Men.

Perhaps it was just their shorter lifespans that made them so different, he mused, since the much longer ones of the Elves certainly did. Náin knew that, barring war or another unnatural cause of death, everyone present that afternoon, even young Léoðern, would be long dead before he reached his old age and senility.

This thought depressed him greatly, and suited well his irritable mood. While everyone danced their wild Rohirric dances that evening, the Dwarf decided he would probably nurse his melancholy over a few tankards of ale.