[Groin Redbeard]

Dancing! Erbrand felt like lifting Kara off her feet and dancing with her back to camp. Of course it would be highly irregular, but why not?

"Wonderful!" He joyfully exclaimed. Suddenly his arms lifted from his side and swiftly, yet gently, seized Kara and lifted her off the ground. Together, they twirled three times with Kara looking down on him. Erbrand laughed and wished that he could keep her staring down on him forever in this fashion forever; Kara floated majestically in the sky as if she were some transfixed goddess. However, Erbrand soon relinquished his hold on Kara and slowly let her down. For a moment, which seemed much longer than it was, Erbrand thought he could guess what Kara was thinking by looking into her deep blue eyes.

"Then, most gracious lady Kara," Erbrand was wearing a broad grin and bowing low. "I most humbly offer my arm, and if you so wish, please accept it and stroll with me back to the camp?"

~~~~~~~~~~
Lithor

Lithor, along with Balvir and Matrim, emerged from the tent in their finest armor. The Gondorian pair wore almost the exact same things; both had on shirts of black leather bearing the majestic image of the White Tree. Under the leather tunic, both had on hauberk’s of steel rings out to the mid point of their upper arms and down to their knees. Ceremonial swords were at their sides, contained in sheaths of shining steel. The only difference between them was that Balivir wore a blue cape that embraced his shoulders, signifying his superior rank over Matrim.

Lithor’s garb was simple, but no less impressive. He too wore a hauberk, extending to the same lengths as Balvir’s and Matrim’s, but his was of iron and did not shine in the fading light as did the Gondorian steel; instead, it matched the brown, leather, shoulder pads and platebody. His leather platebody bore the image of a muscular horse of the Riddermark. A sword hung at his side and the hilt was laced with gold; an impressive reward for service to king and country. Lithor held his helmet. It was like that of most Rohirrim, except that a plume of horse hair was allowed to be placed on top.

The boisterous behavior of Matrim and the jolly nature of Lithor matched the usual mild manners of Balvir: austere and expressionless. The day of play was over; it was time to show reverence and respect to the Lord Eodwine and the soon to be Lady Saeryn.

“What do you know of weddings?” Balvir asked Lithor, continuing a conversation in that they were having inside the tent.

“Not much I’m afraid. I have only attended a wedding once back in Edoras, but that was between peasants and very simple. We will need lots to be done that’s clear, but what things; this wedding is to be much grander than the one I saw.”

“When in doubt ask!” Matrim stated. “I’m sure that Lord Eodwine would keep things as simple as possible, seeing as how he did not make his engagement known until half an hour ago.”

“Besides,” said Balvir, “We are not Eodwine’s personal servants, we are soldiers; this wedding business should be left up to the womenfolk. Saeryn should know what needs to be done, let’s ask her.”

The three headed back to where all the commotion was, expecting to find Eodwine and Searyn there. Matrim was sent off to find Wilcred and the other soldiers for help, when they found that Eodwine was not back at camp. Lithor and Balvir split up and agreed to meet back at the camp in five minutes.

~Five minutes later~

Balvir was waiting with Matrim, who had found the other soldiers, by the time that Lithor had gotten back.

“DId you find anything?” Matrim asked, though his tone was depressed seeing that Lithor came back alone.

“I found Saeryn with Eodwine, but they seem to be preoccupied at the moment. It seems that Randvér has returned. Do you remember him?”

“Ginna’s father?” Said Balvir in a startled tone. “That old man will be like a wet blanket on the camp’s cheer. Especially now that Harreld and Ginna are beginning to get cuddly again.”

“Randvér is already talking to Harreld; Eodwine and Saeryn were with him.” Matrim gave Balvir an amused look while Balvir scowled. “Anyway,” Lithor continued, “I didn’t think that it was an opportune time to ask Saeryn about the wedding.”

“That’s great,” Balvir said it in a sarcastic tone, “now what are we suppose to do?”

“Why not ask Modtryth?” Lithor pointed towards the kitchen where Modtryth was talking with Frodides. Matrim ran to them and respectfully interrupted the conversation. He then brought Modtryth to Lithor.

“Good evening ma’am. We have a problem that I hope you can help us with.” Lithor said this with his usual smile and gentle words. “tell me, Modtryth, what do womanfolk want in a wedding?”