Scarburg Meadhall

[Eönwë]

The young woman ran. Dan was surprised. He wondered why she hadn't even waited to introduce herself.
"Wait!" he called, "Don't go!"
But it was too late, she was gone. But Dan was curious. IT seemed to him that she had suffered a bad experience, which made her far more cautious than a normal person would be.

But she seemed a bit lost and bewildered, and Dan, owing to his race's extremely good sense of direction, he knew that he could help her. After a quick moment of indecisiveness, he ran after her. Now, contrary to their looks, the Drughu were excellent sprinters. They might not be as good as the dwarves, but they were similarly built, and had the same strengths. But whereas the dwarves were heavy and slightly cumbersome, the Drúedain were far more agile. And anyway, even the least fit Drûg could run for hours on end. They were tireless. He used his extremely good sense of smell to find out which direction she had gone in, and then ran parallel in the silent way of his race. He overtook her and then waited just beyond a clearing, which she ran straight into. He appeared out of nowhere, right in front of her, and said to the panting woman, "Hello. I am Daghan-turi-Dan of the Drúedain of Drúwaith Iaur, and I have come to help the people of Eodwine's house. Why do you run from me as if I was a savage Dunlending? And why are you so far away from anyone else in this inhospitable country?"

[littlemanpoet]

"I hope you find such a one."

The words rang over and over in her head.

"I hope you find such a one."

She lay on her mat, her eyes wide open and stinging. No tears came. They never did. Her breathing was quick and sleep was far from her.

"I hope you find such a one."

She had as much as told him that she wished to be his wife! She winced. You little fool! she said to herself now. For once you thought that it would be good to be completely open and say all your heart; and what does he do with it? "I'm not the one for you. I hope you find such a one." Oh the bitterness of it!"

She decided that it would be the last time she was ever open like that, ever again. Never again!

He had rejected her! That was what it was. The humiliation! Her face burned and she gritted her teeth. Never again!

This was worse than being used by some careless boor of a brigand!

At first she felt ashamed of her latest thought, feeling that it was not so; but she could not bring herself to admit it to herself, and without knowing quite how, came to the defense of her own thought. It was worse because he should be better! He should have understood her more, cared for her more! Bolstered with that thought, her shame turned to wrath. She would show him. She would win him. She would study the ways of these other women and learn how to be womanly and winsome in their Eorlingish cultured way, and she would use her wiles to win him. And once she had one him, then she would rule him. Yes. That would be the way to have vengeance. She would learn to be nice and happy and bright of smile and eye.

She thought about the other women, and their ways. Sleep remained far from her as she thought and planned and rehearsed what she would do, what she would say, how she would act. It would start with the dawn. She would show him.

[Lhunardawen]

"Hello. I am Daghan-turi-Dan of the Drúedain of Drúwaith Iaur, and I have come to help the people of Eodwine's house. Why do you run from me as if I was a savage Dunlending? And why are you so far away from anyone else in this inhospitable country?"

Ginna could not speak at once. She was panting heavily, hands on knees. She had never run at such a pace for such a distance before, and not with danger (or so she imagined) in close pursuit. And now she was to hear - from a deep, guttural, far from comforting voice - that this strange man had come to help?

She felt her heartbeat slow, her breath return, and she stood straight. The man was looking up at her with concern.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have run, I wasn't supposed to run, I thought you would mean no harm, but you see--" and suddenly tears fell from her eyes. She quickly wiped them away. He came a step closer.

"It's alright, you need not tell me if you wish not to."

Only then did Ginna fully see just how strange the man appeared. He had a wide face, deep-set black eyes, thick brows and a flat nose. His wide mouth was stretched into a reassuring smile. However unlovely he may have looked, he had already shown the kindness that lay within. She smiled back at him.

"Did you say you were looking for Eodwine?"

He nodded. "Are you from his household? Why are you so far away?"

"I could not sleep so I decided to walk around and I . . . " she looked away sheepishly, "I got lost."

"Don't worry, I can help you return. But it's some distance away." He led her out of the clearing, back towards the direction from which they came.

Ginna laughed. "I shouldn't have run," she remarked.

They walked the rest of the way without speaking. Ginna did not know what to say. Her companion, for his part, respected her silence. There were more stars in the sky than when Ginna set out - she had been away for a while. She wondered if anyone had noticed that she had gone, and if they were now looking for her. She felt a surge of guilt. They were tired enough without the task of searching for her adding to their burden.

Soon the ruins of Scarburg were in sight. To Ginna's relief, no one seemed to be up and about. She found her voice.

"Thank you . . . "

"You can call me Dan, but I do not know your name."

"Thank you, Dan. My name is Ginna."

[Thinlómien]

Everything had passed so quickly and she had had to see that Cnebba indeed went to sleep. It had been an exhausting day for the boy and she would not have him running around when she discussed his upbringing with his father. Now he was there, sleeping beside his parents. His light snoring could be heard in the silent night, as well as the voices of the crickets and the lonely owl.

"Stigend?" Modtryth whispered. "Are you still awake?"
There was a silence. "Stigend?" she asked again.
"Yes?" came the answer, at length.
Deaf old dog, she thought. "I want to have a word with you."

He seemed to recognise the tone of voice. He nodded seriously. "About what?"
"Come, let's go a bit further away. I don't want to wake the children, or anyone else."
"Of course."

They stopped when they were still close to the baker, but out of earshot if they talked in low voices. Stigend did not ask anything, he probably knew his wife well enough that he knew she would tell him what was the matter soon enough, he would not need to prompt her.

So, she asked, rather bluntly, "Why did you make Cnebba climb there? What were you thinking?"

[Eönwë]

Dan saw the ruins and felt lower in spirit than he had all day. He had never been here before, but it looked like it would have been such a nice place before its burning. He went towards the old mead hall. As got nearer, he could feel the dust and ash that was being blown by the wind. He could smell in it the fresh straw from the thatched roof, and wood, and... what was that? Human? Someone had been burned alive inside.

Dan entered the hall, a desolate shell of a place, and saw a figure stooped low over something. He went closer to take a look, and the man did not move a muscle. What the man was looking at suddenly became clear. A skeleton. He was filled with horror and dread. He looked closer at the man, and noticed by his posture and clothes that he must be important now, though it was not always so. He looked like a man that had suffered great hurt, or the loss of someone dear and was still recovering.

"Excuse me, sir," he asked, "Are you Lord Eodwine?"

The man rose. "I am." The Lord Eodwine tilted his head as if surprised in some way. "Strange it is that a stranger passes alone by our tents with so many folk and comes to this ruin to greet me, and yet I sense that you are friend rather than foe, so I greet you. How are you called?"

Dan replied as best he could, "Mīn nama is Daghan-Turi-Dan Warg-bana a ic gelaðie þē in hǣtst mec Dan," he said, trying his best to speak the Rohirric language. He had learned a bit on his travels and hoped that he had correctly said, 'My name is Daghan-Turi-Dan, but I invite you to call me Dan.' It wasn't exactly the phrase he would have used, but his knowlede of Rohirric was limited, and he wanted to make a good impression. At this Eodwine looked taken aback, and Dan assumed that this was because he had never heard a Drûg like himself talk at all, let alone in his own language. Indeed, many had thought his people a savage race, no better than the Dunlendings, or even worse. But the Dunlendings feared them, and woulld only attack them if they greatly outnumbered the Drûgs. Like in the case of my father, he thought. But he could not faulter now. He continued, but this time in Westron, "I come from Drúwaith Iaur, or what you folk call Old Púkel land, the homeland of our people. I have come, one of the last from that land, to help you rebuild your eorldom, and claim back all that your people have lost. And to ask for an alliance between our people." There he stopped, waiting for an answer from the Eorl, or at least a comment.

[littlemanpoet]

One of the Druadan! And speaking Eorling! Eodwine was startled all over again. But this Dan appeared to be as he claimed. Still, he had not answered Eodewine's question; but then again, Eodwine had spared him the need. An alliance? That would take some thought.

"Then I welcome you, Dan of the Druadan." Eodwine said. "Let us leave this ruin and find a more friendly place to talk."

Eodwine led the Druadan away from the wreckage, toward the baker where there were tables and seats.

"You speak of alliance, and I honor you for it. However, any alliance with someone outside the borders of Rohan must be made with my king, Eomer, in Edoras. We will talk of that later. For now, I say thank you for your offer to help rebuilt Scarburg. Would you like food and drink?"

With that, Eodwine found himself in conversation over a meager repast, for the Druadan did not ask for much. Presently, Eodwine yawned cavernously.

"I fear I am very weary. Would you like a place among the men to sleep?"

The Druadan demurred, preferring to sleep in the open, in a place he would choose. Eodwine bid Dan a good night and crawled onto a mat in the men's tent, and forgot about everything for a few hours.

BEGIN NEW DAY: JULY 9, YEAR 15, FOURTH AGE

[Groin Redbeard]

Erbrand woke up to the accidental clanging of pots and pans. He sat upright, scratched his unruly hair and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The dew was still clinging to everything and only the faintest shred of light was coming from the eastern sky.

As Erbrand stepped out of his tent he flung his short wool cloak around his shoulders to protect him the early morning chill. The others in the camp were beginning to wake as well, he recognized a few faces from last night, mostly women who were getting utensils necessary for breakfast; he did not see the children from last night, probably still in bed at this hour. However, there was one person that he had not yet seen, he was lying a good distance away propped up against a tree. The man looked shorter than Erbrand was and younger, but more worn and weather beaten than himself. The man seemed to be awake, but it was hard to tell from that distance.

Presently Erbrand began to feel silly just standing and staring at everyone. His gaze was again drawn back to the man under the tree and their gazes locked. Seeing how rude it would be for him to simply ignore the fellow, Erbrand approached the fellow. As he drew nearer he could see that the man was not from around there, it was still hazy and dim and the shade of the tree most of the figures features from view.

"Hello sir," said Erbrand "I'm arrived last night so forgive me if I don't know your name, mine is Erbrand." he held out his hand.

The figure stirred from his position so that Erbrand could see his face. The word Dunlending sprang into his mind and already the what comfort he had in meeting him was gone, but Erbrand did not move. His hand was still held out, but his mouth and fell opend and he stood as if dazed, looking rather stupified.