Scarburg Meadhall

[littlemanpoet]

"Frodides! There you are!" Eodwine and Saeryn came up to her near one of her boiling kettles in the baker. She turned to look them up and down.

"And where else would you expect to find me?"

"Well, just so!" Nothing could dampen Eodwine's spirits this day, least of all the wiplash tongue of his head cook. "There is a wedding, and-"

"-and me last to know and a cake to bake and a feast to prepare at the drop of a hat, no doubt!"

Sure enough, Frodides was almost on the boil herself; word had gotten round.

"Never you fear, Frodides," said Saeryn. "We would not expect such from you on short notice. Do whatever is in your mind to do, no more and no less. We will be content."

Frodides' brow rose. "Is this the way of it, then, lord?"

"My bride speaks for me in this matter, my dear head cook."

Frodides flushed and beamed. "You just wait and see what I can come up with when I put my mind to it!" She waved her ladel at them.

Saeryn grinned, and Eodwine allowed a smile. "Remember though, no more is expected than what you care to do."

"I heard you the first time. Now out of my kitchen so I can get something done!"

"Yes ma'am," they both said, laughing, and made their way arm in arm, practically skipping out of the baker, only to come to a sudden halt as a human stormcloud approached them in the person of Randvér.

"Oh no. Now what have I done," Eodwine murmured. Saeryn nudged him, snickering.

"At least you could have given me word!" Rand said, his face black with rage.

"Word of what, my friend?"

Rand looked the more indignant for having to explain himself. "My daughter is practically betrothed and you told me nothing of it!" He seemed to want to find an appropriate expression to carry his spleen, and settled on one word. "Friend!" He spit.

"I did not think it a terrible thing for Ginna go a courting with my redoubtable smith. And surely you overspeak the case."

"Do I? He has asked me for her hand in marriage! How is that for over speaking?"

"Wonderful!" Eodwine grinned. "What a match! Don't you think so, Saeryn?"

[littlemanpoet]

Harreld

Harreld could have stood there with his arms around Ginna for a long time, and was tempted to; but he remembered Eodwine's request.

"Lord Eodwine asked me to see what swords I have in my trove that could be used by Saeryn as gift to him. Shall we go see what we can find, my love?"

Beaming, she smiled up at him. "Yes. My love."

This was good, Harreld thought, as something inside him warmed and grew and felt like courage and hope and joy all rolled into one. He let go of her and held out his arm to her. She took it and they made their way to the smithy.

Rowenna

Rowenna had been craning her neck while in the midst of the crowd, to spot Degas and had had no luck. She went looking, and found him near the piles of wood and stone, speaking with Nain the Dwarf.

"Excuse me," she said. The Dwarf bowed and Degas greeted her.

"I would beg a boon of you, lord Degas. I am of the Folde. Two years ago my father's homestead was raided by villains, he slain, and I taken against my will. I would ride to the Folde with you and see what is left of my father's lands, and if you are willing, make you guardian of them and me until I wed, so that they may serve as bride price."

His mild expression turned serious as she spoke, and the Dwarf's brow rose in some surprise or intrigue.

"You have given much thought to this, I see."

"Yes, lord. You need not give answer this minute if you wish, but I would like to ride with you tomorrow, if it please you."

[Folwren]

Rand was furious, and all Eodwine could find to say in response to hearing Harreld’s question was, “Wonderful! What a match! Don’t you think so, Saeryn?”

Saeryn turned wide eyes upward to his face. Should she take his cue and continue to torment poor Randvér? Or perhaps Eodwine did not even realize what he was doing. Yes, that was more likely the point.

Saeryn looked at Randvér and her face was serious. She jabbed her elbow into Eodwine’s side as covertly as she could, but enough to hopefully get his attention.

“I do not think that Randvér meant to be congratulated on his future son-in-law, Eodwine,” she said.

“That is exactly my point,” Rand seethed. “Whatever I expected to find upon my return, Eodwine, it was not this. You should have known I would not approve!”

“What is wrong with it?” Saeryn asked impulsively. The next minute she regretted it.

“What is wrong with it? What is wrong with my daughter wanting to marry a smith? You two, at least, should know what’s wrong with it! He is beneath her! You know all this! You two may not see anything wrong with it, but did either of you step out of your bounds to marry each other? No! You are on equal standing. Now, because you are happy, you imagine that it doesn’t matter what anyone else does – let the two marry if they love each other, eh? Is that it? It doesn’t matter that her status is so far above his, does it!”

Eodwine, as was his wont, thought before speaking. Saeryn didn’t. Her eyes flashed and she bristled with wrath as she defended Harreld. “Beneath her! Harreld Smith – beneath Ginna? You are a bad judge of men if you think that Harreld is not worthy of your daughter, sir. Or do you forget the reason you brought her to lord Eodwine? Your precious status and haughtiness, which supposedly makes Ginna too good for Harreld, just about ruined her! So you brought her here, and Harreld’s humbleness and nobleness saved her!”

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Degas met Rowenna's eyes and saw seriousness and maturity in them. This was not mere escape from Eodwine's new future, then. If Degas had believed Rowenna wished to leave as a means to run away from a life spent witnessing Eodwine and Saeryn's marriage, he would not have come to his decision as quickly, or as much in her favor.

"Rowenna, as you are a woman of the Folde, you are already under my protection as your Lord. As you are a woman without a father, I agree to become your protector until such a time as a husband asks for your hand - and you desire it - or until such a time when you would be otherwise released into safety and happiness elsewhere.

"I ask," he continued, "only that you wait to ride to the Folde until after I have assessed the damage and danger there, however if you would ride with me, knowing the risks, I would have you as a companion and a sister to me on my ride. Think on it, and know that I leave at dawn, and that my welcome in my lands may be less than celebratory."

[Nogrod]

Garstan and Stigend hung around with the soldiers for a short while sharing the jokes but then decided to go and see how Harreld was faring on this important moment. They got a sight of Harreld and Ginna just as Randvér stormed to them. Garstan pulled Stigend from the sleeve. "Halt. We're not going there unless swords are drawn", he hissed and flashed a smile. "Harreld chose his wife and so in a way he chose his father-in-law as well."

Stigend smiled back and nodded. "Where then? If we go to the kitchens Modryth will come up with more tasks sooner we can steal a pint each..."

It looked like everyone was either doing something in preparation for the party or trying to hang out of sight from anyone wishing to get this or that added thing to be done. Garstan and Stigend looked at the hustle and bustle around them in silence.

"Gah, we might as well do something... How long would it take to build a small temporary platform in the middle of the festive-circle we just finished? If we'd have the pairs up there everyone could see them?" Garstan finally suggested.

"That shouldn't take long... if we had some more pairs of hands with us. We could use some of the timber we have brought here".

The men looked at each other and realised they both had gotten the same idea. They turned around and went back to the circle.

"Lithor, Matrim, Balvir! Come with us if you have nothing better to do!" Stigend called them and pointed towards the far end of the camp where the logs were laid to dry out.

[littlemanpoet]

"Think on it," Degas said, "and know that I leave at dawn, and that my welcome in my lands may be less than celebratory."

Rowenna smiled at his use of the Gondorian flourish. "For two years my welcome has been less than celebratory wherever I have gone. That is of no concern to me. I am resolute. I will happily play sister on our way to the Folde, lord."

She curtsied and left Degas and the Dwarf, and went looking for Saeryn. Surely this wedding was soon to get underway, and she had a job to do, simple as it was. She found Saeryn with Eodwine, and she was yelling at Eodwine's friend, Rand. Rowenna grinned but hid it behind her hand, then came up to them.

"Saeryn! Saeryn! We must ready ourselves for the wedding! Come!" She came between the couple and Rand, gave a conspiratorial wink to Eodwine, and grabbed Saeryn's hand, tugging her along to somewhere other than Rand.

Eodwine

Eodwine coughed, momentarily relieved of the embarrassing moment.

"Rand, my friend, I apologize for the youthful spirit of my wife to be. Though she has a point, let it rest for now. The wedding tonight is not your daughter's. There's time to talk of that on the morrow. For now, I beg you, enjoy the celebration with me! I beg you!"

Rand's face was still a frown. "We will come back to this, Eodwine, rest assured. I am willing to hold my peace for tonight, but come back to it we shall!"

"Of course! But let us ready ourselves fittingly and find a cup of mead."