[littlemanpoet]

Harreld snickered into his hand while Garreth grinned and said, "Hear that? Old Bethberry's pulling one over on the lad and lass."

"Shush, you two," said Eodwine, smiling into his mug, "let her have her fun. It looks like they need a lesson and why not the innkeeper be the one to give it to her?"

"Better her than that rag lady Ruthven," Falco murmured, then quaffed loudly from his pint of bitter.

"How can you drink that stuff, Master Falco?" Garreth said. "It would make my tongue lame."

"There'd be no hurt in that," Falco shot back, "seeing as you're so loose with it otherwise."

"And you ain't with yours?" Garreth said, frowning a little.

"Men! Men!" Eodwine waved his free hand to calm the rising ire at the table. "Maybe there is no lassy here for you to impress with your high flown courtesy, but be sure you all could stand to practice it while they're gone."

Harreld gave Eodwine a searing look. "Sounds to me as if the sword is telling the hammer how to smelt."

"No such thing," Eodwine replied. "Friendly advice, that's all."

Eodwine tipped up his mug of golden brown and said no more. Being a father had already changed his thought. He felt protective. He'd already started to, just from seeing Gudryn's weak condition when she had first arrived; but now he was calling himself her adoptive father, and it changed things. In a way it was like stepping out of his riding clothes into something more fitting for around the house. It fit comfortably, more so than he had expected or hoped. Maybe more changes were in order. Maybe it was time to slow down his pace, stop playing King's Messenger, and settle down to something else, be it farming or horse care or even guardship at Meduseld, if there were openings. There were not as many as just after the War, when many who had died in battle needed replacement. Still, he was experienced, and leaders were not as easy to come by as raw recruits. Eodwine sipped his drink again, considering. It would be foolish to make a quick, rash decision twice in one day. There was time before he needed to make such a decision. He sipped again.

And a new thought arose. If his adoption of Gudryn held firm over time, yes, the lass was old enough to be able to make do with just a father; on the other hand, he could see how she could blossom under the care of a mother. No. He did not want to marry again. Maybe a grandmother then. Well, a grandmother was well enough, but there were things only mothers bring to daughters. Maybe he could find an adoptive mother for the lass; it did not mean that he must marry the woman.

"What're you thinking about, so suddenly all quiet?" Falco asked.

"Oh, being a father."

Falco's brow rose. He put down his pint of bitter and lit his pipe, watching Eodwine and considering.

"You need a wife, if you're a father now!" Garreld said.

Eodwine frowned. "Keep your mind to your smelting pit, Garreth Smith. The raising of the lass is my concern, as long as she'll have me as father."

Garreth frowned, but Harreld's eyes closed half way and a grin spread across his face. He whispered something into Garreth's ear; Garreth's expression began to match Harreld''s, and he said, "So who are you thinking about making her mother?"

"Your company is becoming less welcome by the second," Eodwine retorted. He looked over his shoulder. "I wonder what's keeping the lass?"