Scarburg Meadhall

[littlemanpoet]

It was useful being half the size of all these Big Folk, and twice as quiet into the bargain when he chose to be. It was easy to ignore hobbits, especially when they wanted to be ignored.

Falco had put away his pipe and kept out of the way. Once everybody was set to some sort of work or another, none had thought for him, especially with that silly Javan around to draw everyone's attention away.

Hobbits are good climbers as a rule, but this was heavy work these Big Folk were doing up in the trees, and it would have been more than he could manage with his small size.

So he strolled nonchalantly out to the front of the land, this place called Scarburg, and had a look-see. It was quiet. The breeze was mild, blowing from the west across the land. If land you could call it. It reminded Falco of the part of the Shire just west of the Brandywine, the land all swampy and the roads built high so they wouldn't get flooded. Except this land was swampy without the roads being high, and Falco bet that they did get flooded when there was enough rain. Then again, was there enough rain? It seemed a dicey place to try to make a go of farming and what not. He started down the lane with an eye to scouting the perimeter. He would have to be extra careful when he came to where Thornden was chopping down that sappling, as Eodwine had headed that way, and Falco did not want to be seen. Not right now.

[Folwren]

Thornden stayed his axe and looked up. The eorl’s voice was at first almost unrecognizable. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Thornden turned and rested the axe head on the ground, waiting until the man running towards him came fully into view.

“My lord?” he said, not quite sure of it.

“Thornden,” Eodwine said, slowing his pace and walking forward. “Please don’t chop down any more of these trees. Look around you - there are so few here abouts. I want all the rest of these to stay where they are.”

Thornden looked at him, still confused, and feeling slightly exasperated. Eodwine was acting very oddly today and now his order made no sense. “What do you want me to do, then?” he asked finally. “What would you have us build with? Dead sticks?”

[littlemanpoet]

"With stones. The Scar is filled with stones, large and small. I fear we have no stone hewer by trade, and it would help if we did, but I want the new Hall to be made of stone. We can cut our wood from out of the swamps. I know it will be harder, but I would not have this land be more desolate than it already is."

Thornden looked at him questioningly, almost as if he was not certain his lord was in his right mind.

Eodwine heaved a frustrated sigh. "This is not something I have dreamed up in the last hour. I have given thought to this much since the King first commanded me to come here."

[Folwren]

Thornden was sorry and a little ashamed of his shortness with Eodwine. He finally looked down, away from the eorl’s face and stepped back, relaxing his posture slightly. But he still didn’t know what to say.

“I suppose,” he said slowly, “if you have thought of it for so long, then you must have some plans for how it is to be carried out.” He personally could not see it, though – not with the people they had. To build a house of stone would take masons, men who knew how to carve the rock and lay it. “But we will think on that later. I am cutting this for what Stigend is building now, my lord. To house us until your hall is built. You will forgive me this tree, at least?”

He knew Eodwine would, but in the back of his mind, he was wondering what he would tell Stigend and Garstan when he returned to tell them that he could only get this one tree. Would it be enough? What else would they use for beams across the roof? Would this and the main ridgepole be enough? Well, they would decide. Thornden knew little about building and he was there merely to be told what to do and to put his hands to use when he could.

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine

"You will forgive me this tree, at least?”

Eodwine smiled. "I have done so already. I will lend a hand with the carrying, if you wish."

Falco

Falco had overheard the conversation, and now moved on. Once beyond their hearing, he spoke aloud but quietly to himself.

"A house of stone, he wants, not of wood. Better to burrow underground, needing neither stone nor wood overmuch, just good solid earth; but the earth is not solid hereabouts, and I suppose it would not take much digging before one came to soggy ground."

Falco continued walking along the borders of the land, as well as he could make them out.

Rowenna

Rowenna kept busy with Frodides, Kara, Modtryth and Ginna now that the responsibility for Javan had been taken from her. She was very pleased to have received the lord's praise, and her eyes followed him as he walked hither and thither across the grounds. He was turning out to be a more interesting man than she had perhaps credited him with.

She wondered what had been the matter before, when Stigend had brought news of the charred bodies in the ruin? It was as if he had been lost in an evil memory. Had he said that it was something to do with the War? She had been a mere child, running around the farm, missing her pa, who had also been at the War but had returned. She had heard stories, many stories, of the heroic deeds of King Éomer and Lady Éowyn, and of King Elessar and the Wizard Gandalf, now gone over Sea, they said, and of Holbytla, four in number, one of whom had saved them all from the Dark Lord. Rowenna's mind strayed to Falco Boffin, and she found it hard to believe that such a small, silly creature could do such a deed. She wanted to know more about it, especially from Lord Eodwine. He was like her father, but also unlike, and she found him interesting.

There he was, talking to Thornden yonder by the tree he was cutting down. Did he notice her at all? Or did he not think of her unless she did something to draw his notice? She had started to wonder what it might be like to be the Lady of the House of Eodwine.

Harreld Smith

Harreld didn't like heights, but he was not about to seem weak in front of these others; not in front of Ginna, whether she cared for him or not. He kept a vice-grip on the rope for which he was responsible, hanging on to a tree limb with his other hand, trying to wrap his legs against the chafing trunk of the tree. He tried not to look down, and was very ready for this part of the baker building to be over.

[Folwren]

“I will lend a hand with carrying, if you wish,” Eodwine offered.

“Certainly, my lord,” Thornden said. “Thanks. Let me trim away some of the extra branches and leaves that we won’t need and the task will be easier.” He bent again to work, taking off smaller branches and useless twigs and things which would cause discomfort and provide no use. He wanted to ask Eodwine about why he had acted so strangely about the bodies in the ruins. He wanted to ask him how he intended to build a house of stone. He wanted to ask him other things, too, but he kept quiet as he worked. He wished above all else not to encroach upon Eodwine and his personal thoughts and feelings.

“There,” he said finally, standing up. He slipped the axe into his belt. “I think we can drag it now.” He went to where the lowest branches forked away from the trunk and he took one in his hand and lifted up. Eodwine positioned himself directly opposite Thornden and they started off.

The task proved easier than Thornden expected. They progressed quickly out of the belt of trees and across the clearing towards the burned house and the people working about. They passed nearby Javan, tied to his trees. Once more, the brother’s caught eachother’s eye. Thornden turned to Eodwine.

“How long are you going to keep him tied up? Javan, that is.”