Eorling Mead Hall

[Lhunardawen]

From afar, Ginna caught a glimpse of the Eorling Mead Hall in the first timid rays of the rising sun. She had never been to the place, indeed this was the farthest she had been from home since she could remember, but she had heard a few stories from when it was yet the White Horse Inn. Despite the change, she imagined that it would remain warm and inviting even from a distance, attracting weary travellers, runaways, or people eager to render their services. But now that she was seeing it with her own eyes, she felt as though she was riding towards a certain, dreadful doom. As the Mead Hall loomed closer in view, she hung back, and gazed wistfully about her, unwilling to let go of her ties to the world she had known.

She caught sight of a pretty yellow butterfly flitting this way and that, flapping its wings enticingly. She begrudged its freedom to go where it would; and when it grew weary and thirsty from its unhindered flight, always a flower would be willing to give it welcome. What I would not give to grow wings and fly away, she thought.

“Hurry up, Ginna!”

Scowling, Ginna urged her steed on with a whispered command and a light kick to his side. Her father had stopped to wait ahead of her.

“I could have made the journey alone. I know the way,” she said defensively. Randvér said nothing, and simply turned back to the road when she had caught up with him.

“Father, I am twenty-three years of age!”

“And yet you still act like a child: gullible and undiscerning,” came Randvér’s reply, his voice level and emotionless, as though he was stating a well-established fact. “No, you are worse, for a child knows not to speak to strangers.”

Ginna noticed that the butterfly had followed her, and she was glad of the distraction; turning to it, she hid the sad smile that had formed on her lips. Gossip ran rampant where there were people and events, and could reach even the most imperceptive ears. She cared not how her father had heard the tale, though she felt relieved that he had received a distorted version of it. Just how greatly he had misjudged her, she was not going to let him know.

“I cannot be fully blamed, Father,” she replied, her voice a show of repentance. “I have had none to keep me company since Mother—”

She could not bring herself to say the word; even after all those years, the wounds left by her mother's passing still stung. Fair Ayessa had been inflicted with a fatal strain of a disease, which first claimed her vitality, then her beauty, then her life. When shortly afterwards the War of the Ring had called Randvér to duty, Ginna had been left alone to contend with her grief, and her fear for her own life. Since then she had not seen as much of her father as she used to, yet she knew that he was still grieving—so much that he seemed to have forgotten that he was not alone in it. She felt it strongly now, as silence fell heavily between them.

“Is this really necessary?” she eventually whispered, almost to herself. Randvér looked away pointedly.

“My old friend Eodwine is a good man. He will keep a keen eye on you.”

“I have learned well from you, Father; I do not need guarding.”

“I do not know why, but somehow it is not what might befall you that worries me, Ginna, but what you might do.”

Ginna peered at her father from the corner of her eyes. She recognised the look of disappointment in his, and could discern what thoughts caused it. He had believed that he and her wife had raised their daughter well, and still could not fathom it: how could her beauty, which surpasses that of her mother, and at which they had always taken pride…how could it have been such a source of disgrace? For Ginna knew her beauty, and knew how to wield it to her own gain, if what she wanted—what she needed—could not be given her.

“I will not be a burden to anyone,” she said resolutely, concealing the bitterness that she felt. Had she not averted her eyes to face the Mead Hall defiantly, she would have seen the hope that replaced the disappointment, and the faint gleam of loving pride appearing out of nowhere into her father's eyes; but they vanished just as quickly as they came, and all Ginna knew of his response was a curt “See that you won’t.”

~*~

If anyone was already awake in the Mead Hall, they certainly had not let it known to those who might be outside. Ginna and Randvér entered quietly, so as not to disturb anyone. As she walked behind her father, Ginna felt that she would burn with shame if someone caught her, a grown lady, accompanied by him. Let them think that he’s leaving a child to their care. And let him arrange the conditions that will allow my stay here. She quietly stole away and wandered around to familiarise herself with her new home.

After a while she felt lost, overwhelmed by the immensity of the place compared to the home in which she had grown up. She knew not where she was, and desired to have someone to let her know, perhaps even give her a tour. So busy she was with her own thoughts that she overlooked the little girl who was then looking curiously at her.

[Celuien]

Lèoðern had risen early in the morning, stirred out of dreams by her brother as he grumpily stomped around the room. Garmund had disappeared quickly, along with their father. She had gone to find Cnebba, hoping to go out early and play before her lessons started, but he too was gone. Left alone, she had hurried outside and sat near the stables to play with the kittens before breakfast.

Her attention was soon drawn by the arrival of a young lady. Much like her missed friend Linduial she seemed in bearing. A princess, thought Lèoðern, and she scampered to her feet and brushed the dust of the inn yard off her dress.

The lady seemed not to notice her. And so Lèoðern gave her a bright "Good morning!" Then, remembering a lesson in manners given by Linduial, added a curtsey and said, "My lady."

[Firefoot]

“Not as often as I should like,” answered Léof. “But if you ever have free time, I’m sure I could put you to work.” He set down the pitchfork and grinned at Javan. “Would you mind rolling that wheel barrow out back? You can’t miss the manure pile. I’m going to get some fresh hay from the loft and then we can go have some breakfast.”

“Alright,” said Javan agreeably. The two parted ways and within a short time the stall was freshly bedded and the pair was heading into the Hall. They had barely sat down with their hot plates of food when Léof saw that Thornden was approaching.

“Good morning, Thornden,” Léof said.

Thornden sat down across the table from them, answering, “Good morning. Léof, I’d like to ask you a question.”

Léof raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “I’m listening.”

“My brother here, Javan, has probably already told you how much he loves horses and would like to work with them. I have just finished speaking with Eodwine and he has given me permission to ask you if you would take Javan and let him work under you and your supervision for a week. At the end of that time, you will tell Eodwine and me how Javan did and if he is able to continue working in the stables, and also if you want him there to help you. Right now, you have the choice to say yes or no to this request. If you do not want his help and presence, or do not need it, then tell me so."

Léof nodded slowly. “I think that should work fine. From what I have seen, Javan will be perfect for the job.” A short glance over at Javan showed that he was thrilled, and Léof felt quite pleased himself. Besides having a friend, he could see several other potential advantages. How much better would it have worked if he had had an assistant when Gárwine’s horse trampled his foot? Not, of course, that he ever intended on that happening again. And… well, he was still concerned about his sister – if he ever needed to request a couple days to ride out there, he would be able to leave the stable in capable hands.

“That’s settled, then,” said Thornden, seeming satisfied.

Léof caught sight of two people who had arrived. “And it looks like we may already have a couple of horses to tend to. Eat fast, Javan, and get used to being interrupted.”

[Lhunardawen]

Ginna jumped in surprise, and spun towards the voice. What she saw made her want to laugh out loud: not only had a little girl called her "my lady," but she also curtsied! Ginna tried to suppress the urge but failed right away; and at the sound of her laughter the girl flinched slightly and looked a little offended. This effectively put an end to Ginna's mirth.

She slowly walked towards the girl and knelt before her, carefully gathering her skirts about herself. The girl stood up straight and looked her unblinkingly in the eye. Ginna immediately felt herself bound to the girl, as though she was the little sister that she never had.

"Are you allowed to speak to strangers?" Ginna asked. "Never mind," she quickly added. "My name is Ginna; now I'm no longer a stranger. What's yours?"

"Lèoðern, my lady."

Ginna reduced her amusement to a smile. "Why do you address me so?"

"Are- are you not a princess? Because you look like one."

Ginna's smile widened and she shook her head. "No, no, Lèoðern, I'm not a princess. Far from it. But I'm flattered you think so."

Lèoðern had shyly bowed her head when she realised her mistake, but seeing that all was well, she broke into a fit of giggles. Ginna could not help joining along; after all, it really was funny. If she knew her father at all, she would be forced to earn her place here as a serving wench – not that she would mind.

"I assume you know this place well," she finally said when she had breath enough. "Would you mind taking me around?"

[littlemanpoet]

Thornden took his leave upon finishing his breakfast. Eodwine congratulated himself on not being overly curt with the lad. Lad!? He was a grown man, for all his earnestness.

Falco sauntered up with Lefun and Ritun in tow, and took a seat next to Eodwine. Lefun and Ritun sat across from them, their double torsos taking up twice the chair space.

"I bid you good morning," Eodwine said to both of them. He looked to Falco. "Have you stayed out of trouble so far today?"

"Now whatever do you mean by that? I'm no trouble maker!"

"I think others might disagree."

"What, about Garmund? Aye, they might, and if they do they make more of it than they ought to. Where is the boy?" Falco looked around the room as if expecting to see the boy pop up from beneath a table.

"He has been set to sheep sheering across the road, he and Cnebba."

"What ever for? They're just boys! They should be allowed to play! In the Shire-"

"Well I know how you hobbits treat your young ones. With the Eorlingas it is different."

"More's the pity," Falco murmured. Lefun and Ritun were looking at the two of them with an expression of mixed humor and mild astonishment. "What is the matter, Rilef?"

"Speak you much before you eat!" said Lefun. Both of them grinned.

"And you speak as little as ever!" Falco retorted. "I'll change that!"

Just then a man walked across the Hall and stopped at the head of the table. They looked up. He was staring at Lefun and Ritun, his fingers standing at attention on the edge of the table. Eodwine's eyes went wide and he rose.

"Randvér! 'Tis good to see you!" He pushed his chair away and went over to his friend and gave him a bear hug.

"Well met, my friend and lord!"

"Ah but do not you be calling me lord unless we're sitting acourt! I got your letter! Where is your daughter Ginna? Did you bring her?"

"Aye, she is out by the stables, having failed to follow me inside." The man was mildly put out apparently. An embarrassed silence loomed after the man's confession.

"Well! Allow me to introduce my friends!" Eodwine made introductions to the garrelous and tongue tripping Falco, and to the tongue-tied Lefun and Ritun, their nervousness showing profoundly, which did not help Randvér's nervousness at all. Eodwine distracted them. "I would meet your daughter. Let us go to her, and afterward you and she can eat with us."

Randvér agreed and the two went outside where they found Ginna and Léoðern giggling and talking, walking hand in hand, about to round the corner toward the back.

"Ginna!" her father called.

[Lhunardawen]

Lèoðern had jovially taken Ginna's hand and helped her to her feet, and was leading her away excitedly when they heard a man's voice. Ginna took a moment to acknowledge it as her eyes rolled in mild annoyance, but Lèoðern rounded instinctively at the call, forcing Ginna to face her father. Another man came with him. It must be the Lord Eodwine. She obviously could not let him wait.

"Later perhaps?" she asked Lèoðern as she made to walk towards the two men, and tried to extract her hand from the little girl's. Lèoðern's grip was surprisingly firm for a child her age.

"May I come with you? Maybe you can join us for breakfast!" Without waiting for a response Lèoðern tugged at Ginna. The lady followed the young girl helplessly, more being dragged than walking, and reached Randvér and Eodwine sooner than she would have liked.

"Good morning, my lord," she said, bowing slightly, which earned a gentle giggle from Lèoðern. Ginna was eager to leave a favourable impression, for her father's sake as well as hers; though she felt a certain awkwardness in Eodwine's presence. What does he know about me?

[littlemanpoet]

"You called him my lord!" cried Léoðern accusingly to Ginna. "Then I can call you my lady!" The little girl grinned.

"But he is a lord!" Ginna said.

"No he's not! He's just Eorl Eodwine!"

Eodwine laughed. "And your most humble servant, Léoðern. May we take the lady Ginna from you? You see, she is going to stay here and work for me."

"You're going to stay here?!" The little girl's grin widened and her face brightened.

"Yes, she is," Eodwine answered for Ginna. "May we take her?" He looked up. "Ah, there's your father now, and I'd say that he seems to be looking for you."

Garstan was indeed coming back from across the main road where he had just deposited his son Garmund for sheep sheering.

[Formendacil]

Náin was late for breakfast. Well, he was not quite late, exactly. It would be more accurate to say that he was later. Later than usual. But with Náin this was something of note. The Dwarf was as regular in his routine as the mechanical clocks his kinsmen made in Dale, as predictable as Arien's daily course across the heavens.

When Náin did appear for breakfast, most of the Mead Hall's denizens were half done, or finishing, their meals. Enough had finished eating that he found himself able to sit alone-- something else he rarely did-- and relatively ignored. The various newcomers to the Hall; Rítun and Lefun, Javan, and now Randvér and his daughter; all attracted more interest than the daily Dwarf, which was fine with him.

Náin did not know what to make of himself this morning. He had taken especial pains with his appearance before coming down to breakfast; indeed, such had been the reason for his tardiness. He had combed his beard for twice as long as usual, and had even trimmed some of the stray whiskers. A dwarf's beard should be long, but neat. It is better to grow it slowly, evenly, than to let it run wild like a bed of weeds.

He was wearing a completely fresh set of clothes, from his hooded cloak to his leather shoes. His face and hands were scrubbed clean and even his normally darkened callouses shone.

And he was jumpy, nervous. His stomach felt light and fluttery, but rather than wanting to settle it down with Frodides fine fare, his appetite was slim and he sat at his table nibbling absently at an unadorned slice of bread.

It was not natural, Náin tried telling himself, for the hundredth time. He was simply going to see the local sights today. He was still telling himself that when Kara tapped him on the shoulder half an hour later, startling him into sloshing his mug of tepid water over both himself and her.

[Taralphiel]

Lys fumbled with his tunic, inwardly cross at himself for sleeping for far too long. He supposed it was from all the walking he had done the day before, as he had slept from the moment his head met his pillow. Now toiling with his shoes, Lys wondered if Thornden would be finished with his breakfast. 'More likely than not...' Lys thought to himself with a sigh.

His hurry was more frustrated by his bad ankle. Trying to walk faster only made his right ankle drag more conspicuously. He slowed and gave a shrug, hoping he would not stand out too much when he came to eat. He also hoped no one would treat him poorly for his tardiness.

The young boy found a few people left at the Hall, but could not see Thornden. Grumbling a little, he took his breakfast and went to an empty seat. The portions were more than sufficient, and this brightened his mood a little. As Lys chewed on a corner of dark, hard bread he looked around at all the others seated...

[Kath]

Kara jumped backwards as the water leapt from the mug but the realisation of what was happening had come too late, and she found herself watching as half of it moved in a graceful arc to land directly on her apron, while a few splashes made their way to her face and arms.

Náin rose, horrified, still clutching his now empty mug in his hands, and began an apology with a level of stuttering and stumbling that Kara hadn't heard from him in weeks.

"K-K-Kara, m-my, I'm sorry! It was ... you must ... I ..."

Whisking the apron off and using the few remaining patches that weren't soaked through to dry the rest of her, Kara waved his apology off with a smile. It had been partly her fault anyway, she had noticed that the Dwarf seemed to be distracted this morning but hadn't thought to use caution because of it. Noticing that the water had managed to cover most of Náin as well she handed him the cloth from over her shoulder and motioned for him to use it.

"It's quite alright." She said, as Náin showed no signs of halting his bumbling apology. "Look, most of it landed on the apron anyway and I'm not going to wear that outside. I'll hang this out before we leave and it'll be dry as a bone by the time we get back. In fact I just came to say that I was going to get my things and then we can go. Are you ready or do you need to wait til you dry off a bit?"

She waited patiently for an answer, holding the apron to the side as it continued to drip water on to the floor.

[Folwren]

Javan thought he could hardly believe his senses when he heard Thornden ask Léof if Javan could help him. He did not speak a word during their short discussion, for fear that he might somehow make Léof say no, or Thornden change his mind. But when Léof had said that he would be willing to try Javan out, and Thornden had thanked him, Javan still found he couldn’t speak.

Léof turned from Thornden almost at once. “And it looks like we may already have a couple of horses to tend to. Eat fast, Javan, and get used to being interrupted.”

Javan didn’t need to be told twice. He was so excited that no one could have kept him at the table longer than two minutes, anyway. He ate his food so quick that Thornden almost took the place of his mother in telling him to slow down or he’d choke. But Thornden stopped the words and instead of telling Javan to slow down, he stood up and went out of the hall, chuckling at his little brother’s excitement.

When Javan had finished a little more than half of this plateful, he leaped up to his feet. “I’m ready,” he said. Léof glanced at him and then at the food on Javan’s plate, but he said nothing and merely shrugged. He stood up, still holding his plate, and while they took the dishes back to the kitchen, he scraped up the last of his eggs, and before putting the plate on the counter, took the remaining bit of his bread.

“Come on,” he said with a nod to Javan, and they turned and went back out.

Outside the stables, with the reins looped quickly through the rings, stood two tall and finely bred horses. Léof took the reins of one and led him in through the stable door. Javan quickly went to the second and took its reins and followed Léof.

[Formendacil]

"Are you ready or do you need to wait til you dry off a bit?"

Náin could not, in honesty, say that he was ready. However, that was not the fault of the water, nor was it likely to be remedied by waiting longer. In fact, to judge by the condition of his stomach, he was unlikely to get readier by waiting.

"N-n-no, fine is drying-- I mean, drying isn't fine. I mean that I'm fine drying going on. On the go." Curses! A fine way to start the day. All his weeks at the Mead Hall, getting accustomed to being around human women had just been thrown out the window. He was jumpier than that first day through the Hall's doors-- and he was going to be spending all day with Kara. At this rate, he would consider himself lucky to show his face near the kitchen again.

But a Dwarf does not change his plans without grave reason, and the iron discipline of the Longbeards took over. Náin was going to get through this out, come dragons or drownings, even if it meant the end of his sanity.

"I'll grab my things then, and see you at the doors," Kara gave him a smile and flitted away in that discomfittingly light manner that all humans seemed capable of. They lacked a sense of grounding in the earth, Náin thought, and wondered if that might be connected to the lack of grounding in his stomach somehow.

As he trudged towards the main doors, not even willing to try and eat anymore, he did not notice in his preoccupation that he was trudging more heavily than even the norm for a Dwarf, fluttering stomach or no.

[Celuien]

A merry grin still showed on Garstan's face when he came back to the hall. Garmund had been left with the sheep to wait for Cnebba's arrival, and Ordulf quietly told of the plans for forcing the two boys from the Mead Hall to settle their differences by working together. The boys were to be kept away from shears and instead given the job of holding the sheep still while Ordulf cut away their wool.

Léoðern would be next. As early as it was, Garstan was sure that she would already be up and about to find a playmate for the morning. He was not suprised to find her in the company of Eodwine and two strangers.

Before Garstan could say a word, Léoðern said, "Good morning! This is Ginna, and she's going to stay here."

A few words of introduction and greeting quickly passed. Then Garstan took Léoðern's hand and said, "Come along. It's time to go for your lessons."

"Lessons?" Eodwine asked.

"Yes. Lady Linduial gave word for Marenil to teach Léoðern out of a lesson book she sent." His smile broadened and he chuckled. "I expect the lessons will take much of the day. It was good to have met you, Randvér. Ginna."

Garstan led Léoðern away, still on the edge of laughter over his and Stigend's plans.

[Firefoot]

Léof led the horse into the stable and tied him in the aisle. He turned to Javan and noticed that he had followed suit. “Do you remember where the brushes are?” asked Léof.

Javan nodded once. “Down towards the end in a room on the right.”

“Right. Go ahead and get those, and I’m going to find out how long these horses are staying.”

Léof turned and left the stable. He spotted the new arrivals across the yard and standing with Eodwine, Garstan, and Léoðern, though the latter two left as he approached. He smiled affably but hesitated at first, unsure of whether to address himself to Eodwine or the newcomers. He decided on the newcomers.

“Good morning to you. I am Léofric, the ostler here. Will you be needing stabling for your horses?”

[Kath]

Taking pity on the obviously flustered Dwarf Kara returned to the kitchen, hoping that Náin would recover the ease he had learnt with her over the weeks if she left him alone a short while. She had no idea why he was so befuddled this morning, he didn't appear to be overly tired or have had bad news of any kind.

As she hung up her apron, still musing on the mystery, she didn't fail to notice the curious glance sent her way by Frodides as the old cook took in the state of the garment. Kara met the gaze evenly, well aware that if Frodides didn't question her now she certainly would later.

"And what happened to you, girl? Give a guest too little for breakfast this morning? Or did the well dislike you taking water from it?"

The words were followed by laughter, as though she didn't much care what the answer was, but Kara had worked with her long enough now to know that she was very curious.

"It was an accident. I made one of the guests jump." She replied, not wanting to name Náin as the culprit in case Frodides confronted him about it.

"Oh? Shouldn't go sneaking up on those as aren't concentrating, or those concentrating too hard. Not everyone is as ready for the day as you or I when they wake up."

The piercing look still being given to her by Frodides gave Kara warning that this explanation did not suffice, and a longer and more detailed one would be demanded upon her return. But it seemed that the woman was willing to leave it be for now, knowing Kara had somewhere to be.

"Now, girl, I'll let you go in just a moment but first, had you thought as to what you were going to do for lunch?"

Kara had to admit that she hadn't. She'd heard of the iron stomachs of Dwarves and their ability to go without food for sometime, and had hoped that a big breakfast (for she had made sure Náin had received plenty of food that morning) and a large dinner would do for them both. It seemed though that Frodides didn't agree.

"Well you can't go missing meals, nor depriving guests of theirs. Take this."

She held up a small basket and placed it on the table in front of Kara. Opening it, she found rolls of bread, slices of meat and cheese and even small sweets.

"You'll have to manage your own water but this should see you through. Get that nice young Dwarf to carry it for you if you find it heavy, though a strong girl like you shouldn't have a problem."

"Thank you!" Kara was touched by the gesture and hugged Frodides in gratitude. The woman made a show of pushing her away and berating her for childish acts, but the twinkle in her eye and the smile she just couldn't keep off her face showed her pleasure.

Grabbing cloak and basket Kara hurried back out to Náin who was now standing by the door. She saw with dismay that his shoulders were slumped and his head down toward the floor. She wondered if perhaps he had changed his mind and did not wish to go, but as she neared he straightened up and by the time she reached him he appeared ready and willing to leave.

Noticing the basket she carried he held out a hand to take it, manners overtaking shyness for a moment. She handed it over without protest, not wanting him to mistake a refusal for a rejection when he seemed so sensitive this morning already.

They set off at a brisk pace, having decided to go into town first as Náin had not yet seen that, and it was the best place to start from as a circular route past many of the things Kara wanted to show him would lead them back to the Hall at last. As she had hoped the Dwarf did seem to be calmer than he had been before and was able to speak far more clearly, though not often. So far the journey had been conducted in relative silence. She just hoped he would find his voice again soon.

[Lhunardawen]

Ginna's eyes remained fixed on Lèoðern, and so did the smile on her lips, as Garstan led his daughter away. She did not notice that beside her, Eodwine had been regarding her as well.

"Have you taken a liking to her?" he asked.

"Why, yes indeed, my lord," she responded, turning to face him. She looked at her father and saw in his expression that he was...cautioning her. Ginna ignored him. What harm did he think would come of it?

"I look forward to getting to know her more," she continued, "as well as the rest of those who are in this household. But may I first know what arrangement you and my father have come to?"

Before Eodwine could respond, a young man approached and addressed the two newcomers.

"Good morning to you. I am Léofric, the ostler here. Will you be needing stabling for your horses?"

Ginna smiled at him, but said nothing, letting her father answer. Surely for hers, but she did not know if he intended to stay long. Eager as she was to get started, she hoped that he would leave soon.

[littlemanpoet]

"Good morning Léof!" said Eodwine brightly, forgetting his troubles for the moment in the face of the immediate business to hand. "This is Randvér, and old friend of mine from the war, and his daughter Ginna. He holds lands a good day's ride north from here, and it would seem that by sheer accident I am his Eorl. Ginna will be staying at the Mead Hall for some while, so find room in the stables for a longer stay for her mount. Randvér, I am sorry to say, will be leaving us this day, so freshen his horse for the return trip."

"Aye, lord!"

"My thanks, Léof."

Léof regarded Ginna. "Welcome to the Eorling Mead Hall, Ginna." She gave him her thanks, and Léof led the two horses away.

Eodwine turned to Ginna. "As to your question, we have not settled on what you will do."

"I would have her begin amongst the humblest serving maids, lord," said Randvér, "for she is wild and willful and needs taming." Eodwine raised a brow in surprise. Randvér blushed and coughed into his hand. "I did not wish to say such embarrassments before the others in the Hall, my friend, but 'tis true." He glared at his daughter. "Is it not?"

Ginna refused to speak, but turned her face away from him and crossed her arms. Randvér turned back to Eodwine with a sigh. "You see how it is with her."

Eodwine did see, but he thought he saw more than Ginna's father did. The ire lay on both sides and wrongs would have to be admitted on both sides one day, but today was many days too early for such words. He liked the girl's spirit, and truth be told, saw that it told true that she was his daughter.

"Lowest of the low in my hall? I would not have her wilt, scrubbing floors all the day and cleaning out the latrine otherwise. That would not do, Randvér. She shall be a serving wench under the watchful eye of Frodides, my cook, and Kara, her apprentice. To those two she will be obedient, and to me, of course. What say you to that, Randvér?"

"I think, my friend, that you are a kindly lord, and I hope that you do not regret your lightness of hand, as I have too many times over the years."

"Father!" Ginna protested.

"Peace, Ginna!" Eodwine smiled. "I will be your lord and not your father, so I expect the obedience due a lord and head of the Hall, and not the submission due a father. Will you obey me, and Frodides and Kara?"

Ginna paused only briefly before giving her assent. Randvér shook his head that she had paused at all, but Eodwine smiled that she had indeed given thought, and assented so quickly.

"Good! Now let us three go in and break our fast!"

[Formendacil]

Náin and Kara had walked out the Mead Hall, down three or four streets, and into the tradesmen's shops part of Edoras without saying a single word. This struck Náin like a bolt of lightning just as they were coming up towards the first of the shops, the tanner's. They could smell it long before they saw it.

What an idiot he was! Here he was trying to keep from stumbling over his own words, and to keep his flutterly gullet as stony and Dwarven as possible, and all he was really succeeding in doing was nearly ignoring her. Companionable silence was normal among Dwarves, but Náin had noted that Men, and particularly their womenfolk, could often be uncomfortable at long periods of silence. Fool! Bad enough one of them felt distinctly uncomfortable, no need for Kara to join him. Now, if only he actually had something intelligent to say...

"It looks like we might be in danger of showers sometime ere nightfall."

Unfortunately for Náin, he only managed to find those words just as Kara started to ask him a question.

"Is leatherwork a common craft among Dwarves?"

Kara and Náin glanced at each other, Kara looking a little amused, Náin looking mortified.

"S-s-sorry!" he stuttered, turning as red as his beard. Kara laughed.

"No, it's my fault. What were you saying?"

Náin spluttered, completely unable to remember. "N-n-nothing. Please-- go on!"

"I was asking about leatherwork among Dwarves," she continued, determined to squeeze a decent conversation out of the flustered Dwarf. "I've noticed that you have some finely crafted pieces among your effects, and I was wondering if it's a common craft among Dwarves? Or is your kinship to the King evident in it?"

Náin breathed a sigh of relief. Craftsmanship! Here was a topic he could expound on, hopefully without embarrassment.

"Nay," he said, "it is a common trade among Dwarves, though not so highly esteemed as stonework or metalwork. I learned much of the trade ere I came of age, and ere I selected stonework as my trade."

Náin rambled on a good deal more than he needed to have done, but after the unnoticed silence of the walk from the Mead Hall, he was unwittingly swinging in the other direction, becoming overly gregarious.

[JennyHallu]

Marenil arose early, as was his custom, puttering about his cozy little room. A few moments' searching awarded him with three small slates and pencils, wrapped in muslin, that he'd bought the day before at the market place.

Now only to find little Leodern, and then the boys this afternoon.

Marenil looked on the prospects of the coming day with a sigh. A quiet man, he had grown used to living on the edge of the bustling, chaotic life at the Inn. Most of his days were spent on the bench in the kitchen garden, reminiscing with Frodides, whose practical nature and similar years made her a comfortable companion to the old man. He wondered if young Kara, constantly running back and forth through the garden pursuing her own duties, even noticed his presence there, so unobtrusive was he.

Now he would have three rambunctious children in his charge all day long. Not that he minded, he was more than a little fond of young creatures. Small children did not see his years, did not make allowances for the pain of his joints and the slowness of age, they simply saw him: a grown man who would listen to them in seriousness and respect. They would grip his arms and drag him along to see some wonder or another; examining a butterfly or beetle or tree or flower with the awe reserved for the very young. With children Marenil himself felt young.

But the reserved near-silence of this retirement was certainly at an end.

He sighed and put on the knitted house-slippers Frodides had given him a few weeks back, venturing out into the hall. Where might a young thing like Leodern hide herself this early in the morning? A delicate aroma wafted through the hall and Marenil smiled as he followed it. Breakfast, of course. The girl would be at breakfast.

The hall was filled, chaotic, and noisy when he arrived, and it only took a moment to see who wasn't there to see why. Kara was nowhere to be seen. A likely lass, the young cook, and Marenil missed her sensible presence as he descended the stairs and into the fray. Looking for the source of the warm rolls that seemed to be making their way through the room, he wasn't carefully watching where he was going.

Next thing he knew he rammed decidely into the side of--

"Oh, my pardon, lord," he said from his new place seated on the floor. "Lovely morning, is it not? So quiet and peaceful." He chuckled to himself as Eodwine extended a hand to help him up. "So relaxing to retire to the country...Have you seen Leodern? She needs a few inches yet before she can be easily found."

[littlemanpoet]

"Pardon?" Eodwine cried as he gave Marenil a hand up. "Pardon me for not looking where I was going! As for Léoðern (Eodwine noticed, with an inner pleasure at such things, how Marenil's southern Gondorian dialect left off the Eorlinga accents in the girl's name), Garstan had just taken her in hand to bring her to you. It seems she has already made friends of our newest serving wench. Allow me to introduce her!"

Eodwine proceeded to introduce Ginna and Randvér (an old friend from the war) to Marenil, and could tell from the relaxed manner of Randvér that he had taken an immediate liking to Marenil, which was good, considering that which he had to share with the elderly man.

After a momentary pause in the small talk, Eodwine directed them all to a table so that Marenil, Randvér, and Ginna could break their fast. "Where is Kara?"

"I do believe she is not to be found this morning, lord," said Marenil.

"Ah well. I shall go see Frodides a moment." Eodwine stopped and thought a moment about how the kitchen was short handed this morning, and made an instant decision. "Ginna, you shall start your duties now. Come, I'll introduce you to Frodides." Ginna, startled, stood up and followed him into the kitchen. "You shall start by bringing food and drink for Marenil and your father, and a little more for me as well. After you have done that, you shall eat in the kitchen, as is common for serving wenches."

They passed into the kitchen. Frodides was busy over a sink full of steaming hot water, washing earthenware dishes. The smell of baking bread wafted through the air.

"Frodides! You have help! Allow me to introduce Ginna daughter of Randvér, eorldorman from the north of the Middle Emnet."

[Folwren]

Javan was left alone with the two horses. He did not mind working by himself. He didn’t generally like to work by himself (he always had the feeling that everyone else was sitting around doing nothing whenever he had a job off on his own), but now he had two horses to groom. He set to work loosening the cinches and taking off the saddles. The horses stood quietly, their heads lowered to a comfortable, relaxed position, their noses touching the walls. One stood with his hind leg bent, and his hoof pointing towards the ground.

Javan hauled first one heavy saddle to the tack room and then the other. He returned for yet a third trip to gather the blankets and other trappings. When he came back, he picked up one of the brushes that he had fetched earlier and set to work on the nearest horse.

He had hardly brushed the horse’s neck when a call from the doorway stopped him. He looked up and saw Léof trotting towards him. The ostler slowed to a walk before coming too near the horses.

“Stop, Javan,” he said, placing his hand on the nearest horse’s hindquarters. “Just untie him. We can’t brush them down until the sweat has dried. Come on.”

Javan wanted to ask why, but Léof had already turned to untie his horse. Javan followed suit and together they led the horses out into the yard to walk back and forth.

“Why do we have to do this?” Javan asked, ducking under his horse’s neck so that he could walk beside Léof.

“It’s useless to groom a horse that is wet and sweaty. The dirt doesn’t come out – it turns to mud – and the brush pushes it back into his skin and hair. But if we wait until it’s dry, the dirt will have come to the top of his coat and we can just brush him off. Javan,” he said, seriously, “don’t walk under a horse’s neck when he’s walking. You might get trampled on.”

“Sorry,” Javan said. “So it’s easier if we just wait till they’re dry? Are you sure? It’ll take ages to walk them until they’re not wet anymore! Can’t we just stick ‘em in stalls and brush them later? They’ll dry on their own, won’t they?”

[Firefoot]

“Well, yes,” said Léof, “and you could do that if drying them off was the only goal. But horses also have to be cooled down after exercise – especially strenuous exercise, like traveling. It’s like warming a horse up before exercise – you can’t push them straight into a gallop, you have to warm them up. This is just the opposite.”

He glanced over at Javan to see if he had any more questions. He appeared to be thinking this new information over. Quite honestly, Léof was surprised at all the questions; Javan had seemed more familiar with a stable than he was now proving. Still, if Javan was willing to learn, Léof didn’t mind teaching him. He would just have to keep a closer eye on Javan than he had first assumed – at least for these first several days, until he felt comfortable that Javan knew what he was doing and would not be a danger to himself or the horses.

“Also,” Léof added, “cooling them down like this lets you watch for any limping, to make sure the horses didn’t injure themselves while they were being ridden.”

“So how long do we have to do this? Just until they’re dry?”

“Pretty much. You can also check their legs and right here under their necks to make sure they’re cool. It doesn't take that long, really.”

[Kath]

The unintended cross-talk had Náin spluttering again and trying to keep from talking for fear of embarrassment, but the silence had been slowly needling at Kara until she was desperate for conversation and she wasn't about to let him withdraw again. Thankfully she had managed to find a topic the Dwarf was obviously immensely interested in as he informed her about it during their entire walk around the town.

The conversation had begun with leatherwork, but each stall they passed had Náin expounding on the virtues, faults and difficulties of dealing with whatever material lay upon it. Kara had soon learnt more about craftsmanship in an hour than she thought she'd ever need in a lifetime, and it didn't seem as though Náin planned to stop. She wondered at the difference between his uncomfortable silence earlier and this sudden outpouring of words, and though she was pleased at the change she only wished there were some middle ground.

Eventually, as they left the town and Náin began to tell her how the paths they were walking on had been made, Kara felt that it was time for a change of subject. She was well aware that the path they were now on had been laid by Gondorians for they were heading out to the ruins that civilisation had left behind. The history behind that was something she was greatly interested in and hoped that Náin knew as much about it as he did about stonework for she was more than willing to learn about it. For now though she wanted merely to talk.

"Of course the skill of those who made it can barely be seen now since so many people have walked all over it."

Having been listening to Náin still with one ear Kara noted the natural stopping point in his speech and jumped in before he could continue.

"Well that is a shame, but I suppose that is the way with the world. Old things must go for new ones to arrive. Just like at the Hall. It seems that Eodwine changed a lot of things when he took the place over, both inside and out"

Náin nodded slowly, unsure where Kara was heading with this, but tried to join in anyway.

"Indeed. The new building work is extensive, and it is fortunate that those with the necessary skills are staying with us."

Silently Kara cheered. A good gossip about the Hall and it's residents was perfect for occupying them on the walk.

"Do you know many of the others well? I haven't taken the opportunity to really talk to a lot of them yet though being in the kitchen I do hear what goes on. I suppose I ought to make more of an effort but there has been so much going on recently! The only ones I really see are the children who love to tell Frodides of their day, and they are very sweet, especially little Leodern - have you seen much of them?"

[Formendacil]

"Indeed. The new building work is extensive, and it is fortunate that those with the necessary skills are staying with us," said Náin slowly.

As his mouth slowed down, and his mind began to think rather than just spew forth on the craftsmanship around him, Náin found that he had calmed down during the comfortable discourse on the skills of the Rohirric artisans, and that he was able to assess the conversation without getting too nervous.

He had been boring Kara. A lot. He began to mentally fidget again.

At least, Kara had heard enough about craftsmanship. Náin began to get agitated again, concerned that he was ruining Kara's day off. It was all very well for him to spend the day in agitated agony, but he was a Dwarf of aristocratic lineage and his own master. Kara's days off were less regular, and she was nobly spending this one in his company. It was a trait, he noted in one of the calmer parts of his mind, that was more typical of Men than of Dwarves. It was the trait of generosity.

But Kara did not seem to have wanted him to stop speaking entirely, for she went on.

"Do you know many of the others well? I haven't taken the opportunity to really talk to a lot of them yet though being in the kitchen I do hear what goes on. I suppose I ought to make more of an effort but there has been so much going on recently! The only ones I really see are the children who love to tell Frodides of their day, and they are very sweet, especially little Léoðern - have you seen much of them?"

"I have seen them about," said Náin slowly. Here was a field Dwarves early learned to avoid. It was better to say nothing than to say something offensive, and Dwarves did not compliment if the compliment was not honest. "To be truthful, though, they avoid me, and I would rather have it so. I am older than their grandsires, and I am a serious man. I prefer the company of their elders, and I think they sense this of me."

To Náin's amazement, Kara laughed.

"Náin," she said, "you're old enough to be my grandsire, nearly!"

This, thought Náin was precisely why Dwarves said little in the way of gossip. Kara did not seem offended, but it was well that she was a daughter of Men and not of Dwarves.

"I am afraid I did not think of that," admitted Náin, no longer so nervous of what he was saying as he was wary. "Our races age differently. In Dwarven terms I am considered as much grown up as you are."

"But I am not really considered grown at all," said Kara. "At least, not by everyone."

"I am merely 53," said Náin, at which Kara made a stifled noise of amusement. "Which is young indeed. The famed Gimli son of Glóin was over sixty when he wished to join his father and Thorin Oakenshield on the quest for Erebor, but his father said he was too young, and most Dwarves would have agreed. I am a talented sculptor, and the lands are safe since the War, so my father did not object to my coming to Edoras, but as we Dwarves go, I am young and barely tried."

[littlemanpoet]

Falco took note that Eodwine had chosen a different table to sit at with Marenil and Randvér. This was a fine how do you do! He took out his pipe, lit it, and puffed his a spleen's worth of smoke rings, angry wisps thickening the air of the Hall.

"Why make you this smoke?" asked Lefun with a cough, the two hands taking turns wiping Lefun's, then Ritun's eyes. Falco watched their cooperation with mild amazement.

"How do you decide who gets his eyes wiped first?"

"I first go," said Lefun, "as in front I be. Long ago we chose it."

"Ah."

"Why make smoke?"

"I like it."

Lefun made a face that looked like he'd tasted something bitter in his porridge. "How?"

"I know not and care not. It grows on you."

Ritun looked surprised, and watched with renewed interest.

"Too big it be for you now!" cried Lefun.

What? Then Falco laughed. "No! Not getting bigger! When I tried it as a teener I didn't like it much at all, but all the other hobbit lads swore by it, so I kept at it. Now I like it plenty."

"Tree bark I would eat before making such smoke!" Lefun said. Ritun whispered in his ear. "We need work to pay the lord."

"Let's wait until he's finished with those two. Let's you two and me go out and walk about for now."

Falco got up and the twins reluctantly followed him out of the Hall.

[Folwren]

Javan asked no more questions. He watched the horses as they led them back and forth across the courtyard. They did dry quickly, as Léof had said they would. They led them back into the stables and tied once more to the rings in the wall. Léof handed a brush to Javan and the two boys set to work grooming them.

Javan was thinking as he worked. He wondered what his duties would be. If there was too much work to be done, they wouldn’t be able to ride, and that would almost defeat the purpose of working in the stables (he thought). Léof probably did get to ride, though, Javan decided after a little more consideration. The horses needed exercise. But what if Léof was going to give him only the bad jobs and not let him help exercise? Maybe Léof would think he was too young, or too little, to help with that. He lifted himself onto his toes to peer over the back of the horse so that he could see Léof.

“Do you ever ride, Léof?” he asked.

[Firefoot]

“Well, sometimes,” answered Léof absently. Unused to having a companion while working, he had slipped into a reverie now broken by Javan’s question. Something seemed familiar about the question, if only he could remember what.

When Javan didn’t respond right away, Léof glanced over the horse’s back to see that Javan was not very satisfied with his answer, and Léof remembered. Before breakfast, hadn’t Javan mentioned something about coming down to the stables to exercise horses if he ever had some spare time? Javan didn’t really want to know if Léof ever rode the horses – he wanted to know if he would get to ride them.

“But now that there are two of us working here, the chores will take less time and there will be more time to exercise the horses,” he said, causing Javan’s face to light up.

Then Léof realized that he had never actually seen Javan ride, and that maybe it would be a good idea for him to see how Javan handled a horse while riding before he sent Javan off to exercise them on his own. If Javan had the same gaps in knowledge about riding as he had shown in grooming and walking the horses, Léof wasn’t sure that he’d be able to let Javan ride the horses for a while, however much this would disappoint Javan – not until Léof had time to teach him better habits. Léof wouldn’t tell Javan all this now, though; he might even be quite a good rider who just didn’t have much experience caring for horses. He said simply, “Sometime this week I’d like to take you out riding – just to see how you handle a horse. If that goes well, we can take it from there.”

[Kath]

"Frodides! You have help! Allow me to introduce Ginna daughter of Randvér, eorldorman from the north of the Middle Emnet."

Frodides turned round surprised, soapy hands dripping water onto the floor. Tutting in annoyance she grabbed Kara's still drying apron from where the girl had left it and dried herself off before crossing the kitchen to discover just what was going on. Help? She already had help, even if it had gone missing today.

A quick but hard glance at the newcomer told Frodides that this girl didn't have the same sweet naiveté that Kara did. No, this one was sharp and probably wasn't afraid to show it, a quality she liked in those young enough yet to be berated for it. Still, she wondered just what she was to do with her. There really was no room for a third cook and even if there had there was no need for one. Opening her mouth to inquire what this Ginna was for she found herself pre-empted by Eodwine.

"She is to be our serving wench. Kara can't continue to do everything alone and Ginna's father wishes her to learn some necessary skills. She'll be under your command so teach her well. I must attend to our guests, good day!"

Both women eyed each other up, the Eorl leaving almost unnoticed. Frodides noted the keen interest in Ginna's eyes but either she was shy about speaking out or wasn't sure of the rules yet. She doubted it was shyness, even just a moment with the girl had given her the impression that gentleness would probably be met with contempt, so she settled on the blunt approach she was famous for in order to get her talking.

"So girl, what is it you've done to get yourself put in here? A serving wench is no bad job but I'll warrant you're of a position where work is hardly something you need."

The straightforward outburst confirmed the notions Ginna had formed regarding the woman before her. Her father seemed to have come to the right place. Frodides did not appear as one who would tolerate idleness and nonsense; perhaps she would even watch her with a tenacity to rival, if not outmatch, the lord's! But far from finding her intimidating, or at least not as welcoming as the young Lèoðern and the Lord Eodwine, Ginna felt oddly drawn to her.

But maybe that's just because I feel alone. Anyone in that blesséd place would be better company than the one she had left when Eodwine led her into the kitchen. Though she expected to be given the whole day to spend as she would like, and was disappointed in being told that she was to start right away, Ginna felt nothing but excitement. She had a new life ahead of her. A life that, because she would have to live with people other than herself in mind, was without a doubt more meaningful.

"I am hoping to bury the memory of it beneath the tasks you would have me do," she replied, the faintest hint of a grin playing on her lips. "Let us just say that in being here I hope to learn...how a proper woman should be."

"And what's got you thinking you're not already a proper woman?" Frodides replied, intrigued by the amusement in Ginna's answer.

That's a question best asked of my father, Ginna thought bitterly. She lightly shrugged.

"Perhaps that I seem to know but a little of serving, and too much of being served. That's one misfortune of being the sole child."

She looked around the kitchen with casual interest, hoping the thought of their duties would return to Frodides's mind. Ginna feared that their conversation was approaching a point she would rather it did not reach.

As Ginna glanced round the kitchen a little uncomfortably Frodides decided to let the subject go. No point in scaring the girl off now. One last question had to be asked though before they could move on as she needed to know whether there were more mouths to feed.

"And is the father that allowed you to be so unfortunate staying for lunch?"

"I honestly don't know for certain," replied Ginna. "I thought he was just to accompany me, and then go on his way, but he might want to stay a bit and get re-acquainted with the Lord Eodwine." Though I hope not, she added to herself.

"It would be good to teach me what I have to learn for now, anyway. I'm quite a quick learner, from experience."

"Indeed?" Frodides asked, pleased by Ginna's apparent eagerness and her confident manner. "We'll start with a simple lesson then just to check your aim. See those cups by the sink? Lay them out around this table ... that's it ... now fill that jug with water and use it to fill the cups."

The look Ginna gave her after being given the last instruction made Frodides laugh out loud.

"I know it seems silly but there are those who can't pour without spilling everywhere. Normally I would send you out to the great hall but we've had one accident out there already this morning, and guests don't take kindly to having water thrown over them. In any case, all those who want drinks have them at the moment. So start practising."

A bit reluctantly, irrationally thinking there must be a trap laid out to ensure her failure, Ginna retrieved the jug to which Frodides pointed. Once filled with water, it felt considerably heavy in her arms, but her training with the sword had strengthened her slender limbs enough to hold it steady. And then, slowly and carefully, she poured the water into the cups. It took her a while, but she did it without any spillage.

She put down the now only half-filled jug, exhaled lightly, and looked up expectantly at Frodides, unable to resist inwardly smiling at her success.

Frodides nodded in satisfaction. Ginna could follow instructions and pour a steady cup. Her speed would have to be worked on but that would improve with time and the experience of serving a table of thirsty guests all wanting drink at once. She had to admit to herself that she was mildly impressed with the girl, as that jug she'd been given to practise with was far heavier than anything Kara used and yet she'd managed the weight and borne it without complaint.

"Good." Was what she said aloud. "We might just make a serving wench of you yet. I'll need to try you with food next but there's no way of doing that until it's ready to be served, and I need your help with that."

Nodding toward the large array of unprepared goods laid out along one of the walls she continued.

"This isn't something you would usually be called on to do but I've had a fair number of interruptions today and the girl that works with me has taken the day off. It's a good thing to learn anyway."

"What do I do?" Ginna responded, and Frodides set her to work immediately, again impressed despite herself at the girl's obvious determination to succeed with this punishment. For that was definitely what this was. If a nobleman merely wanted his daughter to learn things that might prove useful to her later in life he would have her learn them as part of lessons rather than actually forcing her to change her entire way of living. Ginna might not be ready to give answers yet, but Frodides was sure that the departure of her father and a sympathetic ear might just persuade her otherwise.

[Folwren]

Thornden was pleased that he had found something for Javan to do so quickly. He reminded himself almost at once, though, that this was only a trial. If Javan didn’t work well in the stables, Thornden would have to think of another position the boy might take. He smiled a little at the thought. Javan would most certainly be very disappointed if it came to that.

“Don’t think of it,” he told himself softly. “Not yet, anyway. There are seven days yet before that decision is to be made and there are other problems at hand to be considered. Lys, for instance,” he realized suddenly as his eye fell on the boy. Thornden had just re-entered the hall and he saw Lys sitting by himself at the table.

Thornden knit his brows in thought and paused in the doorway. He looked closely at Lys and considered both his abilities and his inabilities. His body was frail, and the frail body was mending after being badly broken. Perhaps it was frail only because of how badly it had been battered. Perhaps if half his bones hadn’t been broken he would have been no different than Léof. But all that was simply speculation, Thornden told himself reprovingly. He walked forward and approached Lys.

“Good morning, Lys,” Thornden said, sliding into a seat beside the lad. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

Lys glanced up and gave him a smile. “Yes, I have just finished,” he replied.

“Good,” Thornden said, nodding. He looked down and there was a short pause. “Lys, I haven’t thought of anything for you to do. I know that you are worried that nothing will be found for you to do, and I know that I’ve told you not to worry about it, and you shouldn’t worry about it, either, but it will take some consideration to think of something for you to do. Have you any idea of what you can do?” He was tempted to ask what Lys had done before he was hurt, but Thornden figured that would be more of a hindrance than a help. “Is there anything you think you would like to do?”

--
Taralphiel's Post

Lys chewed on his lip, eyes downcast as he thought on the question. He knew so little about himself, and the thoughts of his possible physical uses were inhibited in part, if not all, but the limp he still carried. He needed strength, but if was to ever come, it would do so with more time. Hrethel was a patient man for good reason. He could not remember any skills he once had…and so it would be left to him…to start over. Just as his sudden start in a dark alley had left the rest of him.

“Thornden…I should like…to learn. I do not know what I am good at. I do not know what…I enjoy. I know I enjoy spending time with you, and Javan and Léof. But I do not think those things would make up skill…” Lys laughed a little and looked up at Thornden.

“I heard…in passing from some of the children…that there are classes. Do you think I’d be able to try to learn? I am much older…but I do not know what I may have once known…”

[Folwren]

“Sometime this week I’d like to take you out riding – just to see how you handle a horse. If that goes well, we can take it from there.”

Javan skipped over the ‘just see how you handle a horse’ and his mind lit immediately upon the riding part. “That would be jolly fun!” he cried, nearly skipping with excitement. “I like to ride. I’ve ridden quite a bit. I know how to handle horses, really I do. What do you mean, take it from there? You do more than riding?” His eyes widened at a sudden thought. “Do you jump them? Mamma would never let me jump on a horse. She always told me I’d fall off and crack my head. But I really think I could do it!”

“I somehow think it wouldn’t be a good idea for you to go jumping if your mother didn’t approve,” Léof began slowly.

“She wouldn’t have to know,” Javan said, interrupting Léof before he could say that the horses here didn’t generally jump anyway. “She’s half a day’s ride from here. It could be another half year before I saw her, and it wouldn’t be necessary for her to be told.”

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine returned to the Mead Hall and sat at the table with Randvér and Marinel, the latter of whom was relating some story from the south of Gondor; Randvér's interest did not flag, and so Eodwine listened in.

He did notice, however, that Falco seemed somewhat put out over his choice of neighbors with whom to enjoy the morning repast. The Hobbit marched out of the Hall and into the kitchen with Ritun and Lefun in tow. Eodwine raised his brow; what was Falco up to?

Suddenly Eodwine heard a blood curdling scream from the kitchen. He almost fell backward off his chair; Marenil was halted in the middle of his tale, and Randvér's brow furrowed. Eodwine got up and dashed to the kitchen.

[Firefoot]

If Léof had not been responsible for the safety of both Javan and the horses, if this plan had been proposed to him by a friend back before he had come to the Hall (although friends had been scarce), he might have thought the plot would be fun and harmless. Might have. As it was, Léof was much quicker to see the pitfalls than the benefits of such a plan. Javan was so excited about it, though, that he hated to tell him no.

“These horses don’t really do much jumping,” Léof explained instead.

“Just once or twice,” Javan wheedled.

“Javan, these horses aren’t for our pleasure – they’re for us to exercise and care for, and I’m responsible for their safety – and yours,” said Léof, less firmly than he might have liked, and nor did he look at Javan, bending over one of the horse’s feet instead.

“It wouldn’t be dangerous!” said Javan. Léof’s concern was starting to rapidly escalate by now. Javan’s willingness to bend the rules disturbed him, and Léof wasn’t sure that Javan was really taking the work seriously. It wouldn’t all be fun and games.

He was saved from answering, however, as a scream rent the air. Two instincts warred inside Léof’s head: to go help or to stay with the horses still tied in the aisle. “Javan, help me get these horses into stalls,” he said, deftly unclipping one and taking it to the nearest empty stall – he was unconcerned that at the moment it had no bedding in it. “Come on!”

[Lhunardawen]

At Frodides's bidding Ginna took over washing the dishes, as the cook saw about the food. "I cannot be trusted yet with cooking," she had sheepishly informed Frodides, and so she was asked to finish the task left discontinued at her and Eodwine's interruption.

Ginna was carrying the dishes to the table when she noticed a hobbit enter the kitchen. "Good mor--" she began her greeting, and ended it with an earsplitting shriek; so loud it was that the crash of earthenware on the floor went unheard. Ginna gaped at the...creature - or two - or two in one - whatever it was that followed the hobbit - what was it?

"Oh no, girl, what have you done?" she heard Frodides say.

"I-I-I'm sorry..." she stammered at Frodides's general direction. Flushing wildly in embarrassment, she knelt down on the floor to pick up the pieces of broken earthenware, fearfully glancing at the strange creature now and again. It seemed to have noticed the trouble it had caused, and awkwardly hurried forward to help her. Ginna was so startled at its approach that she failed to notice a particularly sharp fragment near her hand until her palm brushed against it. A cry of pain escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

There came the sound of many hurried footsteps, and then the Lord Eodwine, Marenil, and a very displeased-looking Randvér burst into the kitchen. Ginna abruptly stood and hung her head, biting her lips to keep her tears from falling - and not because of the bleeding hand she held in her unharmed other.

[littlemanpoet]

The moment Eodwine entered the kitchen, the new kitchen wench, Ginna, stood up abruptly, standing before broken earthenware and a kneeling Ritun and Lefun.

"Now why did you go and scream so?" Falco demanded.

"Master Baggins, be quiet!" Eodwine ordered. "Falco, escort Ritun and Lefun out of the kitchen in all haste, that way!" Eodwine pointed to the far door that led to the Alder Court. It was obvious what had happened: Ginna thought she had been confronted by a monster. She was holding one hand in the other. Still, it was necessary for the girl to speak for herself.

"Ginna, tell us what happened."

[Lhunardawen]

Holding her hands behind her back, Ginna calmed herself with a deep breath and plunged into the tale.

"I had been carrying the dishes to the table when the hobbit entered with his--" she hesitated, and settled with "companions. They surprised me, but I shouldn't have screamed so."

From the corner of her eyes she could see the hard expression on her father's face, and tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the lord's questioning look towards the floor.

"And I am so sorry for the dishes," she added as she followed Eodwine's gaze, and quickly glanced apologetically at Frodides. "They slipped from my hands. I will do what is needed to replace them. And please, do not blame--them," she gestured at the door through which the three left the kitchen. "They did nothing wrong. It was all my fault."

She stopped, realising she had spoken too much. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and proceeded to pick up another broken piece from the floor, careful to hide her wound. She tried not to think about her father's exasperation, or the lord's and Frodides's disappointment, or what lay ahead of her now, concentrating instead on cleaning up the mess she made with as little damage to her hands and her dignity as possible.

[Kath]

The screams and crashing that had echoed round the kitchen had Frodides clutching her heart and concentrating on little else than making sure the kitchen roof hadn't fallen in again, but as Ginna resumed picking up the pieces of shattered bowl from the floor the little spots of blood that followed the trail of her hands caught her eye and she finally noticed the reason for the second cry that had come out of the girl. Shaking her head in sympathy she slowly bent down, wincing as her knees cracked, and carefully took Ginna's hands in her own, placing the fragments back on the floor.

"Come on, let's get this washed up and looked after." She murmured quietly, aware that Ginna wasn't far from weeping and not wanting an overly harsh tone to push her into doing just that while the man Frodides assumed was her father was watching.

"But-I-the bowls?" Ginna stuttered, trying to pick the pieces up still even as Frodides guided her to her feet.

"Never you mind the bowls, they can be replaced. It's your hand we need to look at. Here we go, sit down now."

Gently she pushed the shaking girl onto a stool and then filled a bowl with water and placed Ginna's bleeding hand into it.

"Just you keep that there while I clear up, alright?"

Not waiting for an answer Frodides grabbed the broom and made her way back to the mess on the floor, behind which Eodwine and Ginna's father were still standing.

"I doubt she'll need the Healer my Lord. The cut isn't deep and it's shock and embarrassment that has her shivering like that not pain. It would be wise though I think if everyone were to leave, recovery is often faster when it's only yourself you have to look out for."

[littlemanpoet]

"Well said, Frodides," Eodwine replied. He smiled at his cook. "Let us return to the Mead Hall, my friends." Randvér and Marenil followed him back out of the kitchen.

Eodwine had not known Frodides very long, having become a regular at the White Horse Inn, the Mead Hall's old name, just months before Bêthberry had decided to run off on adventure and leave it in his hands, cahooting no doubt with the King to have him Eorled. Eodwine shook his head. And the Frodides had noised about ending her time as cook once a suitable replacement could be found. That replacement had now been found, but truth be told, there was enough work for both Kara and Frodides, even with Ginna's help on top of it all. And he still had to find a new hostess, somehow. The train of his thought finally made it to the point he had been aiming for: he was happy to have Frodides about. She was solid and stolid and knew when to apply barbed word as well as salvy speech. And that was all beyond her excellent cooking! So he hoped she would not leave any time soon. She would be needed, especially with a new property for Eodwine to see to. Which reminded him of Marenil.

Once they had sat down again, Eodwine broached the subject as they ate and drank.

"Marenil, I recall the many ideas you had to improve this place."

"Yes, Eorl."

"I thought well of them all as good ideas but did not feel them all well-suited to my Eorling." Eodwine paused and let the silence bring out whatever question might be poised in Marenil's mind.

"Pray, what, lord, do your words this morning tend toward?"

Eodwine smiled. "The King has given me the land of Sorn, to turn it into the new ways. The very same ways you had spoken of. I will of course obey the king's wishes. But I need a man I can trust to go there and see this thing through. What would you think were you that man?"

[Folwren]

Javan’s head jerked up and turned as he heard the sound of a woman’s scream. It was near enough to send his heart leaping to his throat, but the very idea that anyone could have made such a sound reach them was in itself startling enough. Startling and exciting. He quickly followed Léof’s example, released the horse from his restraint and led him into another empty stall. He quickly released him and exited, closing and latching the door behind himself.

Léof had already come out and he waved to Javan to follow him. Javan ran up the aisle after him and together they burst out into the open sunlight.

“Who was it?” Javan asked, as they crossed the yard towards the hall.

“I don’t know,” Léof said, “but she may need help.”

Out of one of the side doors of the hall came a short, round figure. Javan slowed his steps and turned his head to look again. He had never seen a hobbit before and he couldn’t help his eyes becoming round at the sight of a man only three feet high. But someone followed Falco who caused Javan to forget about the hobbit, and also caused his eyes to become even larger and rounder, and made his feet stop altogether. His mouth dropped open half an inch and his mind was completely wiped of any memory of his mother ordering him not to stare.

What was it? Not man, not elf (Javan had never seen an elf, but he’d heard of them, and this certainly wasn’t one of them), not an animal - it had the faces of men. But what was it?

The answer was impossible for Javan to come by, so instead of doing what an older and more sensible person might do and either go ask or leave immediately so as not to be rude, he stood stock still and stared.

[littlemanpoet]

Falco glanced at the two boys, Léof and a new one he hadn't met yet who was staring unabashedly at Lefun and Ritun. Falco rolled his eyes.

"Oh for the love o' Lobelia!" he cried. "Can't we go nowhere without sommat up and deciding to gawk?"

Falco was beginning to wonder if bringing Lefun and Ritun to the Eorling Mead Hall had been such a grand notion after all. He looked back at Lefun, and Ritun, in turn, and could see on their faces that they were pained but in a half smiling way which probably meant that they were more or less used to this.

"Sorry about this," he said to them. "Good morning to you Léof! Who's your gawking friend?"

[Firefoot]

As uncomfortable as Falco’s bluntness was, Léof was grateful for it; it gave him something else to focus his attention on than that… that two-headed… whatever it was. He had little doubt that it had been the cause for the scream, and since it didn’t seem vicious, Léof figured the scream had been from fright rather than from pain.

“This is Javan, Thornden’s younger brother,” answered Léof, keeping his gaze firmly on Falco lest he begin to gape again. “He has been given a week’s trial as my assistant in the stables.” Léof glanced over at Javan, who had at first dropped his gaze at Falco’s reproof but was now beginning to stare again. Léof nudged him slightly with his elbow, and Javan didn’t seem to know where to look.

“And, um, what about you, Falco?” asked Léof, too casually. “Who is your new friend… friends…?”