Eorling Mead Hall

[Folwren]

Thornden arrived rather late to the dinner table. He had been long with the books, running over the figures of money coming in and out. He had set to the job early that afternoon and had finally come to the end of his task. He quietly got his serving from Modtryth and went to take a seat.

He had hardly begun to eat his meal when Javan and Léof came in through the door together. They went and received their food and as they came back, he called to them and waved them over. As they took their seats opposite him, he asked them how their day went.

“I enjoyed myself,” Javan said at once. “We got to brush the horses a lot, though we didn’t have much time to excerisize them.”

Thornden nodded and glanced at Léof. “Was he much help, Léof?”

[Firefoot]

Léof was only too grateful when Thornden waved them over to sit with him as it saved them from any awkwardness that might result from sitting too near Lefun and Ritun. Léof was not at all eager to repeat the morning’s experience, which he felt had ended only slightly better than it had began. He had briefly glanced over at them again as he followed Javan to meet Thornden and nearly shivered. He couldn’t help it – even if they were friendly, they (he supposed he ought to think of them in the plural) looked too much like something that would count for a monster in a children’s tale. He could just imagine it: the red-eyed two-headed monster that ate babies out of their cradles… Now that was absurd, and Léof felt guilty for even thinking such a thing. They could not have helped the circumstances of their birth any more than he could… but the thought wouldn’t go away.

Now he turned his mind to the conversation at hand, just as Thornden was asking, “Was he much help, Léof?”

Léof nodded slightly. “He was – or at least, he will be. He has a few things to learn first, but at this point I’d say that the arrangement will work out well. I’m still trying to figure out his skills – such as, I told him that sometime this week we would go out riding. We’ll see.”

[Folwren]

“That’s what I can’t wait for,” Javan said, beginning to shovel the food into his mouth. “He said that after he sees if I can handle the horses I’ll be able to do more.” That wasn’t exactly what Lèof had said, but Javan had probably forgotten. “He also said that we might be able to teach the horses how to jump.”

“I did not say that!” Lèof cried, stopping with his hand midway between his plate and his mouth to look at Javan.

“Well, I think you were going to, before that girl screamed and we ran out to see what was wrong,” Javan said, looking sideways at him as he continued to eat.

Thornden looked from Javan to Lèof and back. A small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth as he saw the mischievous glimmer in Javan’s eye. Of course Lèof had not said anything like that. At least...Thornden hoped he had not. But Thornden did not think that his brother would let it rest. He did not know Javan extremely well, but he knew him well enough to know that the boy loved adventure of any sort. He’d have to watch him and make sure that nothing dangerous or damaging happened.

But jumping the horses was not really Thornden's concern or business. He would say nothing, until Lèof had answered, and only do so then if Javan made another contradiction or argument.

[Firefoot]

“No, I wasn’t,” Léof replied firmly. “It’s not a good idea, Javan.” He glanced over at Thornden, who thankfully did not seem to be taking Javan’s rendition of what Léof had said seriously.

Javan was frowning and there was a stubborn set to his jaw. “But - ”

“But nothing,” Léof cut in. “We aren’t jumping the horses.” He hated to sound so harsh, but why had Javan had to bring this up again? Léof had thought it was settled. And now, to start the argument in front of Thornden… Léof still did not feel so secure that he was above wanting to make a good impression on Thornden, all the more so when it was his brother they were talking about. If not for Thornden’s presence, Léof might have softened his words with a, “maybe just a small jump,” or “some other time.” It did not help, either, that Javan was starting to act like a spoiled child, in Léof’s eyes. In truth, if Javan would just accept it, Léof would readily change his mind if there didn’t see any reason not to. It probably wouldn’t matter, though, and this would all blow over, Léof hoped. And Javan had seemed at least responsible enough not to do anything reckless or stupid. Maybe Javan would even forget about the whole matter.

[Lhunardawen]

Ginna found Frodides alone in the kitchen when she returned from the well.

"Where's Modtryth?" she asked as she put down the heavy water jug on the table, much to the relief of her wounded hand. She quickly checked the bandage. It was still in place, and without a trace of blood she was relieved to find. There was only the throbbing.

"In the Hall," the cook replied, placing a tray of freshly baked bread beside the jug, "serving those who have just arrived. What took you so long? You know we need your--"

She looked up just in time to catch Ginna letting go of her bandaged hand. Concern flooded out her preoccupation. "Your hand bled again? Well it was my fault for--"

"No, no," Ginna interrupted, holding out her palm to Frodides. "It just hurts a little, but I'm fine." She answered her questioning glance with a smile, then reached out for the tray in front of her. Frodides did not seem reassured.

"Are you sure you'll be fine? I don't mean your hand," she added when Ginna opened her mouth to speak. "The twins are out there."

Can she read minds? Ginna wondered. She had just been hoping (in vain, she knew) that Garreth and Harreld would no longer be in the Hall when she went out there again. Or perhaps Frodides saw her and Harreld and heard their exchange? Her heart skipped a beat at the thought.

Frodides seemed to have seen the puzzled expression on her face. "Lefun and Ritun," she elaborated. Ginna thought for a moment, then laughed - half at the memory of that morning's events, half in relief.

"It was just an initial shock. What happened this morning should be enough to teach me not to be frightened by them."

The cook smiled. "I better not hear that bloodcurdling scream again, then." She turned her back on Ginna, bowl in hand. Ginna left the kitchen carrying the tray of bread, and met Modtryth who was on her way back. "I'm sorry," she whispered to her, and the older woman smiled and waved it off.

Apart from Lefun and Ritun and the hobbit who was with them earlier that day, there were three other new people on the table: Lèofric, the ostler whom Ginna met that morning, a younger boy, and another man. Surely there are more females in this household than I've yet seen? Ginna thought. She caught a glimpse of Harreld staring down at his empty plate as though in a daze, and his twin Garreth was talking - or trying to talk - to him.

As she approached the table, Ginna took a good look at Lefun and Ritun, and was quite surprised to realise how quickly she grew accustomed to their appearance. They were no longer frightening, nor even half as strange as they seemed at first. The hobbit noticed her and scowled a bit; his companions followed his gaze. Ginna gently placed the tray in front of them, fighting down the blood rising to her cheeks.

"Good evening, Master Hobbit, Lefun, Ritun," she said loud enough just for them to hear amidst the scattered chattering. "I'd like to apologise for what happened this morning. Honestly, I meant no offence, and I promise it would never happen again."

[Folwren]

Thornden understood the situation entirely. The smile grew larger on his face and he looked down as Léof almost glared at Javan for a brief instant. But the ostler looked away almost at once. Thornden knew Léof well enough to know that he didn’t like giving such an absolute and hard no. Thornden glanced at his brother swiftly. Javan wanted to press his point and Thornden knew that it wouldn’t be nice of him to do so.

“Javan,” he said abruptly. The boy looked at him. “Léof has said no and you need to take that as your answer.”

“But-” Javan said again and even when Thornden looked a little harder at him, he still went on, but in a softer, more pleading of a tone. “It won’t hurt anything, Thornden. Please talk him into it.”

“Absolutely not. I have nothing to do with the horses here. You have been put under Léof’s authority in the job of keeping the horses and the stable, and you’re going to obey him without question.”

Javan shut his mouth and looked away. He didn’t feel like questioning his brother just then. Not when there was a hint of fierceness in his voice over the matter. He decided that it would be best to leave the idea of jumping the horses alone, at least for a while. He comforted himself with the thought that there would be other interesting things to do.

And with new ideas springing up in his mind, he set again to eating his supper. After a few bites, though, a new subject jumped to his mind. He leaned forward towards Thornden and half whispered, “Have you me those fellows over there?” He nodded his head towards Lefun and Ritun. Thornden scarcely moved his eyes in their direction and he positively scowled at Javan.

“Yes, I’ve met them. Sit up and be civil.”

“But are they…safe?” Javan hissed back.

“Lord Eodwine would not let anything unsafe in the hall,” Thornden muttered quietly, giving Javan an annoyed glare.

“He might have jumped in over his head this time,” Javan said, sitting back and returning to his meal. Thornden deemed it wise not to answer. “What do you think, Léof?” Javan asked after a momentary pause.

[Firefoot]

Léof hesitated. He did not like being dragged into this disagreement between Thornden and Javan, and he did not know which was a more uncomfortable topic: jumping the horses or Lefun and Ritun. “Well, maybe…” said Léof. But when Javan seemed to take this as an agreement and about to tell Thornden so, Léof hastened to add, “But they could hardly help the way they were born. I think you ought to listen to your brother and trust Eodwine’s judgment. I highly doubt that the Hall is in any danger."

With that he returned to his meal, brooking no further discussion and hoping he could finish his plate in peace. The conversation could hardly get more touchy after all this.