Scarburg Meadhall

[Folwren]

Thornden, Lithor, and Balvir were left amongst all the people who were still cheering and laughing about the matches. They were all being congratulated and slapped on the back and the three of them could not help but join the infectious laughter. Thornen finally shouldered his way through everyone and went to put the two staffs down. He turned about again, wiping his hands on his pants. There was Stigend coming towards him with a stranger.

“Thornden!” Stigend called from several yards away. Thornden nodded.

“Stigend!” He smiled and came forward to meet them. “Who is this?”

“A guest. His name is Eodwemer.” Stigend paused slightly over the name. “Eodwine asked me to bring him to you that he might be welcome.”

Thornden paused one fraction of a moment, wondering why Eodwine had not done what he normally did and make the newcomer welcome himself, but then he looked at Eodwemer and bowed his head. “Welcome to Scarburg, sir.” Eodwemer bowed in reply. “Have you traveled far?”

“Some would call it far,” the old man answered.

“We will find you something to drink, and a place to sit. We are nearing the end of our games, and we can find you a place to watch the last sport.”

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwemer

"The last sport? And what might that be?" Eodwemer asked Thornden.

"The sword fights. With wooden swords."

"What is the reason for sword fights? Are there foes nearby that you ready yourselves to war against?"

"No such thing! We celebrate how much has been done to build a new mead hall!"

"I see," said Eodwemer, nodding to both Thornden and Stigend. "I also see that there is much yet to do." They agreed somewhat reluctantly. "Maybe I can add a little of my craft to its building over the next few days, if you like." He eyed the two men, especially Stigend the carpenter, who was still fingering the mallet, to see what kind of response might be forthcoming. "But it seems something is up between your Eorl and that young lady over there. Mayhap we should the three of us go see what's up."

Thornden and Stigend looked to where Eodwemer gestured, and the three of them quickly covered the short distance to see what was going on.

Eodwine

Eodwine found Saeryn chattering happily with Rowenna, Ginna, and Harreld. He walked into their midst and looked upon Saeryn's face expectantly. She and the others stopped their happy laughter, and smiling, Saeryn looked up at him.

"Yes, my lord?"

He smiled, his eyes keen with his purpose.

"Lady Saeryn," he said loud enough for all nearby to hear, "I have something to ask you."

Her breath seemed to catch. "Yes, lord?"

Eodwine could feel the expectation rise among those listening. He did not kneel, for it was not the custom among the Eorlingas to do so. Instead, he drew a gold ring from his pocket, and held it by the tips of his fingers before Saeryn.

"Lady Saeryn, I ask you now if you will be the Lady of my house, in all ways. Will you be my wife, and will you wed me -" he paused "-this night?"

There was an intake of breath around the circle that had formed. Saeryn's eyes were wide, and Eodwine realized, of course, that though she had expected a proposal from Eodwine some time soon, and even perhaps this day, the final twist to his question was unexpected.

The air practically rang with the silent of bated breath as everyone waited for Saeryn to respond.

[Folwren]

Saeryn tried to catch her breath. For some reason she was having difficulty doing so. Her hand crept forward, towards the ring, her fingers slowly reaching out. Before her mind’s eye, so many things were coming and going. Perhaps this was something like dying, but it was all her hopes and dreams that she saw, not her past life, and the hopes and dreams were coming into reality, not being tumbled into oblivion.

She smiled, and gasped, a huge rush of air finally gaining entrance past her restricting throat. She burst into tears and instead of taking the ring, flung her arms about Eodwine’s neck and sobbed into his shoulder.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she cried, hardly knowing it. “Eodwine, I love you!” It was whispered for his ears alone, even though she was oblivious to everyone else.

For sheer joy Eodwine held her tight and spun her around in the air, careless of the formalities of court. And just as careless of said social ordinances, he set her on her feet, drew her face toward his, and kissed her on the lips.

"You know I love you!" he cried.

The crowd whooped and applauded. A moment longer she stood there, staring up at him in adoration, and then she stepped back and wiped her eyes and laughed like a nervous girl. “Of course, I won’t have a proper wedding dress,” she said. “Or anything at all, for that matter.”