Scarburg Meadhall

[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?”

[Thinlómien]

Modtryth suppressed a wince. Here was this slick Lithor once again, but his question wasn't a stupid one.

"Most of the things, I assume, will be taken care by the groom and the bride an their families." She paused there. Saeryn's and Eodwine's families? There was nothing of them except for Degas here. She pushed that thought away. If they needed help with the familial things, they would ask.

"Then there are some matters like the dressing the bride and baking a cake..." Here Modtryth glanced at Frodides, wondering if she and Kara would manage to make one on such a short notice, "...with which you can hardly be of any assistance."

Modtryth paused and a silence fell.
"So there's not anything we can do?" Matrim prodded.

"In fact, there is something. We need some decorations. You should go and cut some fresh branches of trees, and find flowers too, blue ones if possible, and then hang them around the place. I will show you how, and Ginna may be of assistance as well."

Suddenly the thought of the three soldiers picking flowers started amusing Modtryth. She grinned. "You can take little Lèodern - she's here - and the three boys with you. They can pick the flowers while you cut the branches."

"Oh and one more thing. I assume you know better than to chop down Eodwine's favourite trees," she laughed.

[Kath]

The delight in Erbrand's face when she agreed to dance with him filled Kara with joy. She had never deliberately hurt him but he was a man quick to misunderstand a conversation on occasion, and she was glad that at this particular time he had understood her entirely. Despite that she had not been expecting to be picked up and twirled around!

"Aah!" She had squealed when his arms suddenly wove themselves around her and squeezed tightly, even then not realising that he was going to lift her. When he did with such ease she simply threw her head back and laughed. It had been a long time since anyone had acted so freely with her, indeed the only person she could recall spinning her like this was her father, and she didn't mind the comparison.

When he had spun his joy out Erbrand finally put Kara gently back on her feet and gave her the biggest beam she had ever seen from him and she had to laugh again when he executed a flourishing bow in front of her.

"Then, most gracious lady Kara," he said, and his voice was for once fully confident, "I most humbly offer my arm, and if you so wish, please accept it and stroll with me back to the camp?"

"Well of course I will." Kara replied, linking her arm through his. "Lead on!"

[littlemanpoet]

"What can I do for you sir?" asked Harreld.

Randvér paused. Eodwine coughed uncomfortably into the breach.

"Well, it appears that you have something about which to talk," he said, glancing at Rand, Harreld, and Ginna in turn. "Saeryn and I will leave you to it, for we have much to prepare very quickly. Harreld, see me when you are done here and we will talk of the sword."

He and Saeryn left arm and arm.

"You and I need to go find Modtryth and have her take charge of the things we cannot. And then we should talk to Frodides to tell her we need no cake on such short notice, but she may do whatever she wishes and no more. Does that please you?"

"Well enough. I hope your friend Rand deals not too harshly with Harreld and Ginna." She looked over her shoulder with a worry in her eyes.

"I have watched Harreld change lately. I think he can handle himself. He is no mere lad, but a man full ready to fend for himself and another should he choose."

They came upon Modtryth who had apparently just dismissed Balvir, Matrim, and Lithor to some duty or other, Léoðern in tow.

"And where have you sent them off to, Modtryth?" asked Eodwine.

"To pick slender branches and flowers for your wedding bower."

"Ah, yes. Speaking of which-" Eodwine said, but stopped, deferring to Saeryn with a gesture.

[Folwren]

Saeryn took her cue and left Eodwine’s arm to capture Modtryth’s. She drew her aside and Eodwine followed them into a corner where they clustered together to discuss plans.

“It will be dark before we have started,” Saeryn began, “so Eodwine and I have agreed to have lanterns and torches. We were wondering if you would help set things up and direct everything as they should go?”

Modtryth agreed with enthusiasm and Saeryn smiled gratefully. She and Modtryth sat down at the table. Eodwine stood beside Saeryn.

“Let us have the wedding on this side of the scar, but beyond the building, so that the area is clear and away from the camp. Do you think we should hang the lanterns in a circle, or put them in long rows?”

This began a swift discussion where Eodwine and Saeryn’s ideas flowed freely, intertwining with each other. Modtryth took the ideas and modified them as necessary to fit what they could actually do, offering some ideas as they came to her. They talked for only about ten minutes, being aware of the very little time they had, and then they parted ways to deal with the tasks that they were all appointed.

[littlemanpoet]

Modtryth hurried off to take care of the things Eodwine and Saeryn had placed in her capable hands.

"Shall we go talk to Frodides?"

Saeryn nodded and he took her arm in his.

As they walked toward the baker, Eodwine glanced at Harreld who was talking with Randvér; Ginna looked very nervous. Harreld's expression was unusually dour. Could it be that Rand did not approve of Harreld for his daughter? Maybe he was reflecting the likely mien of Rand. Eodwine looked away and glanced at the face of his bride.

She wore a contageous smile. It was very, very good that he could walk arm and arm with her now without embarrassment over what folk might say. It was still amazing to him that he, now over forty, had on his arm a young lady half his age who was his bride to be. What chance had brought this wonderous oddity about? How had he become so lucky?

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

He was about to reply, but then became curious about how she saw him.

"Why, what look do you see on my face that you ask?"

[Groin Redbeard]

His arm was accepted as Kara grasped his arm and gave a warm smile. They stepped slowly, reluctant to go anywhere fast-Erbrand was quite content with having Kara to himself. Eodwine was off with his soon to be wife, strange how things worked out. Erbrand never would have guessed that his lord was after a wife; he wondered how things would change-he hated change-nevertheless, everything would change.

As Erbrand pondered in content silence what the wedding would mean to his future, Kara leaned closer and whispered, “Who is that man over there?” The man was getting on him his years: white haired, with a peaceful expression, the kind of complexion that mirrored the wisdom of many years.

“I can’t say that I know,” responded Erbrand, “some lone wanderer I reckon.” Kara squeezed Erbrand’s arm and gave him a pleading smile. She did not need to say anything Erbrand was curious as well; this time he let it overcome his formal character. He smiled back at Kara and steered in the direction of the stranger.

“Hello there,” Erbrand raised his left hand in friendship (his other arm was still being held by Kara). “You’re a stranger here,” he stated the obvious, letting the man know he was noticeable. “My name is Erbrand and this is Kara. Do you plan to stay here long, or do you have any news of any important events happening in the world?”