Eorling Mead Hall

[Folwren]

“Wedded?” Thornden repeated, rather amused. “Married? No. Not I. Rather a determined old bachelor, if you asked my friends and family. It’s quite a hopeless endeavor for me, you know,” he cocked his head, his eyes twinkling merrily as he smiled at Manawyth. “But what marriage seems to disturb what women? I have heard of nothing. . .”

Manawyth told briefly what he had heard, and Thornden could not help but chuckle. “I doubt the young ladies would be too pleased to know that you overheard their conversation,” he said. “But have no fears, it won’t reach them from me that you hear. Nay, there is no one wedded here that I am aware of.” He looked over his shoulder at the twins and the hobbit, still at the table, talking and laughing before they departed. “I am not certain that Eodwine has not had a wife, but I really don’t know him particularly well.” He turned back to Manawyth. “I am almost as new in this place as you are.”

There was a short silence. Thornden looked at his folded hands and considered what Manawyth had said. He drew a long breath and looked back up. “You have clearly lived a hard life, Manawyth. But here, where you have come, peace dwells, at least for a while. You’ve come to witness a new beginning of the Mead Hall, and perhaps it will give you ground and place to begin a new life of your own. Happier memories you hope to acquire. You mourn for the lost art of harp playing-” motioning towards the harp sitting near by “-and I think you’ve come to the right place to nurture that skill. Stay a while. Eodwine loves a good song, and anyone who can make it clearly has a welcome from him.”

He rose as he finished. “It is late. I am going to see about getting a place to sleep. Are you going to stay here?”