Scarburg Meadhall

[Folwren]

Saeryn stopped short in the doorway at the sound of Athanar’s query. She turned her head and looked at him. Here was the man who caused all the controversy between her and her husband. Here was the man who took what was rightfully theirs and held it. Her tears stopped and her eyes were like ice.

“You should not have let Eodwine swear his fealty to you,” she said in a low voice. “Eodwine is rightful eorl here, even if he will not rise up and take his place. I will do what I can to ensure that he is returned to his proper place. Wait and see if I do not.”

And without waiting for response, she stepped inside her room and shut the door behind herself.

[littlemanpoet]

Ginna could see that Eodwine was not well. Neither was Saeryn, but beyond the physical. She tried to catch her eye and did so, but Saeryn quickly turned away and left. Whatever the matter was, it was clearly between husband and wife, not something to be shared with the kitchen wench.

The tension hanging in the kitchen was almost tangible. For a long while no one could say anything. This was not how Ginna imagined the women to welcome the eorl - nay, no longer the eorl, but she knew they all felt the same: Eodwine was still their lord. Perhaps that was why they did not know how to speak with him. How should they address the man who, for so long, held authority over them, but now is practically their equal?

Eodwine focused on his meal, unmindful of the women exchanging pointed glances at each other. They were all aware, however, that it would be most uncharacteristic of the cook to hold her tongue in his presence. For once Frodides seemed not at all eager for speech. But as she opened her mouth to speak, Eodwine broke the silence.

~*~

Eodwine ate and drank in silence, still shaking from the residual anger at Saeryn's words, as well as from the weakness of travel. It was not lost on him that she had turned on her heels and stormed out of the room. He sighed. It was not a good start.

For a fleeting moment he wished he were back in the House of Healing where all was quiet. He dismissed the thought. Surely there would be some way to see this through, for he and Saeryn to find harmony together.

He knew much that had happened while he had been away. Falco had told him much that he had himself been told, as well as some things that he had both heard and overheard. Eodwine was concerned for Thornden. He had not seen him yet, and wondered if all was well.

But the women were silent, which seemed most odd in Frodides, who usually spoke her mind with great alacrity and freedom. Kara was likely to make conversation and did not. Maybe they were ill at ease because he and Saeryn. He cast a glance at Ginna. She seemed more than uncomfortable. She seemed downcast. He liked to think that his coming would be greeted with more joy than that; so things maybe were not well with her.

"Ginna, tell me how it is with you. How is Harreld?"

[Folwren]

Thornden stood when Eodwine entered, but he did not approach and he watched in silence, as all present did, as Eodwine knelt and swore fealty to Athanar. He did not know immediately how to respond or react to that. He saw Athanar reach out and receive the sword and bid Eodwine rise. He partially heard the short exchange of words between them before Eodwine and Saeryn left. Then he sat down in thoughtful silence.

Eodwine would be lord no longer. Did this surprise him? No. . .not really. King Eomer had sent Athanar as a permanent replacement, and this had been clear from the very first day. Eodwine of all people would not seek to regain any place of power. Thornden knew this, and though he had never thought of it before, he now realized that of course Eodwine would offer his loyalty to the new lord. Clearly, Thornden would continue as he had done before Eodwine’s return and serve Athanar faithfully without dividing his loyalty between him and Eodwine. He would speak with Eodwine, too, and ask if there was anything he might do for him. He felt still some connection with him, and having been his steward for the entirety of his time as eorl, Thornden hoped that he would still be able to stay close to him in counsel and aid, should Eodwine need it.

He was drawn away from his thoughts by the conversation of some men down the table from him. “I did not say I expected him to try to take his old place, I just did not expect him to swear loyalty to lord Athanar, as though he were a commoner.”

“Lord Eo-,” Thornden began, leaning forward, and then stopped himself. The men turned to look towards him. “I mean, Eodwine does not pretend in anything he does. He swore loyalty to Athanar because he really does mean to be subject to him in exactly the manner he made his oath in, and he meant to show us all that there is to be no division here between his old men and those who came after him.”

“Yes, I realize that,” Quin replied. In the past month, he had become comfortable with the Old Scarburgians and spoke freely, even with Thornden. “But I just thought. . .” He paused, and his face turned a shade red. “With how some people spoke about Eodwine’s return, and how they always talked about him, and hearing how loyally you all spoke of him, I really thought he would be a stronger man.”

Thornden glanced towards the door where Eodwine had departed from, leaning on Saeryn. “He is very sick,” he said. “He left Minas Tirith probably too early for his own good. He has never been a proud man, if you think that a strength he lacks. I do not think we could love him as we do were he proud. But to be humble is not a weakness."

[Firefoot]

Falco had ridden into the hall yard well ahead of the rest of Eodwine’s party. Léof was initially alarmed, thinking that something must have gone wrong and Falco had come to get help, but almost immediately he realized that Falco had come at far too leisurely a pace for that, besides the fact that he was not calling for help.

“Greetings, Master Falco! And welcome back!” said Léof. “But where is the rest of your party? How fares Lord Eodwine?”

“And good day to you,” said Falco as he pulled to a halt and dismounted, and Léof noticed immediately that the hobbit’s voice lacked some of its normal cheer. “The rest are coming along. Eodwine… you shall see soon enough. Too stubborn to wait long enough to be truly fit for travel.”

“But we had heard that he was well!” said Léof.

“And so he will be. But it is good that the road was not longer than it was,” said Falco.

Now the rest of the party was riding up, and Léof left Falco to attend to them. All thoughts of Saeryn’s delicate situation fled his mind when he saw Eodwine, for it was eminently clear that his state of health was far more precarious than his. In dismay, he held Eodwine’s horse as Hilderinc helped him from the saddle, then took two more horses from Saeryn as she helped Eodwine inside.

Léof took the horses into the stable and unsaddled them as quickly as he could. Falco had said that Eodwine was unfit, but this seemed a massive understatement to Léof. He had looked near to falling off his horse! And him as fine a horseman as any Léof had ever met! Clearly there was more to be told. Léof put the horses away and hurried into the hall. Eodwine and Saeryn were nowhere to be seen, but Thornden and Quin were both sitting with many of the other soldiers. Just then Thornden was talking. Léof heard as he approached: “I do not think we could love him as we do were he proud. But to be humble is not a weakness.”

He sat down beside Quin where there was an opening. “What have I missed?” he asked quietly.

[Durelin]

Coenred nodded at Thornden's words, leaning over the table a little to look at him. "Agreed, Thornden. Pride has its place, but men who are quick to challenge are not strong, but brash fools." Coen was thinking of a man or two in particular, such as the men Thornden had wished to protect.

But he let his eyes pass quickly over the men, including Áforglæd and Scyrr, and back to his gruel. These men were not fools, but pride could drive a man to foolish things.

The real question was no longer about Eodwine, as it never had been. It was about those people whose loyalty and pride -- or proud loyalty -- would be tested all over again. Coen desperately wanted to ask what Thornden thought of Eodwine's oath, and how he thought it would be received by those people he felt a particular loyalty and responsibility to, like a secondary lord. But he would not in front of the men. He had no intention of helping any renewed division along.

[Folwren]

“Agreed, Thornden. Pride has its place, but men who are quick to challenge are not strong, but brash fools.”

Thornden looked swiftly at Coenred, his eyes sharp for a second, but Coenred did not follow his comment up with anything more, and he did not meet Thornden’s eye for more than a second. His glance was not challenging, more curious than anything.

Thornden considered Coenred silently for some second. Since the incident with Erbrand and Lithor, he and the captain had not been in close fellowship. There had been a rift driven between them that he had been unable to remove. The fault was his, he knew, but he wished Coenred would at least speak to him, instead of holding his thoughts in silence.

While he thought thus, Quin was answering Leof’s question.

“Your old eorl, Eodwine, just came in, and the first thing he did was go to Athanar, kneel before him, and offer him his sword while swearing loyalty to him! And he, looking half dead at that! We were just now discussing it. . .he is not well, you know. So ill he went out leaning upon lady Saeryn as though he were an old man. I mean no disrespect, Thornden,” he added, turning again to him. Thornden looked over at him. “That is just how he was.”

Thornden shrugged and stood up. He moved over to Coenred and sat down across from him. The men about them were speaking, leaning closer to discuss things more thoroughly with Quin and Leof, and Thornden bent across the table towards Coenred.

“What are you thinking, Coenred? You seem to wonder about Eodwine’s manner of return as much as Quin, but in your older wisdom, you keep silent.”

[Firefoot]

Scyld had crowded around with the rest of the Scarburgians at the arrival of the old eorl. Not for the first time in the last month, he found himself peculiarly moved by the loyalty Eodwine’s former household continued to show to him. It was the same sort of attitude that had driven Scyld to seek out these people in the first place – an attitude of selflessness, loyalty… love.

He still did not understand it.

Scyld’s loyalty was to himself – to seeing himself well-provided for, in the best position possible should events turn awry. He was a survivor – and his survival had more than once depended on him looking out for himself, because no one else would. Yet here were all these people, still showing such loyalty to a lord who could no longer serve them as a lord must. Making things harder for themselves by not simply accepting the rule of the new lord, no matter how different he might be from the old. Once, Scyld would have said that one master was just the same as another, but now he was not so sure.

Having lived and worked under both Sorn and Eodwine, he could hardly compare the two. He did not trust Eodwine, because Scyld still feared that if his history were found out he might be sent to the gallows. And if he did not trust Eodwine, he certainly did not trust Athanar and his heavy-handed sense of justice. However, he could not deny the air of freedom and camaraderie shared by those living in Scarburg – something he had never believed could really exist.

That being said, Athanar was no Sorn, and since those first couple of eventful days, Scyld could not really said that the hall fared any worse under Athanar than it had under Eodwine. So in that sense, a change in lord was not so great a hardship.

Still, he could not help but be curious to see how the meeting of the old and the new eorls would play out. Eodwine entered the hall, followed by Saeryn and the hobbit Falco. But then one came whom he was not expecting – Rowenna.

He was startled by his own reaction to seeing her: he felt like his heart was hammering in his throat. Could it be that he had actually missed her? She was certainly interesting, more interesting to him than most of the people in the hall. Like him, she was a survivor – ambitious, and ruthless, perhaps. Not just a little pretty, to sweeten the deal… but vicious. Scyld suddenly recalled his last significant interaction with her had ended in her smacking him across the face.

He realized that he was staring and forced his attention back to Eodwine. Of all the absurd things to be thinking of – a woman! It seemed that all this time he had been spending pretending to be Nydfara was finally getting to his head. Next thing he’d be fluttering and sighing (or crying, as had been the case lately) over the hall romances like the kitchen girls.

He had pulled himself from his reverie just in time to catch Eodwine swearing his fealty to Athanar. Now there was an unexpected turn. He would be interested to hear what the others thought of that. As was his habit, he faded into the background to watch and listen.

[Durelin]

Coen waited to look up at Thornden until the man started to speak. He gave a small smile. “Older wisdom? I hope that is not an attempt at flattery.” He paused, his features growing tighter again. “Naturally I have wondered about his return for some time. And now some questions are answered, but others…”

He twisted his mouth in some distaste at speaking about this so openly. Then he lowered his voice. “Of course I wonder what this will stir back up. Will Eodwine’s fealty be echoed by his people?”