Scarburg Meadhall

[Firefoot]

Léof had contributed little to the discussion of the Elf, instead listening to the others and occasionally sneaking glances over at him. He had never seen an Elf, much less spoken with one, and he was more than a little intimidated. But when Eodwine came over to the table and said, "Laerdil has asked me to fetch him bread and water. He will eat where he sits. He invites any who would share his company to go to him, by the fire,” and none of the men seated there seemed inclined to move, Léof’s curiosity finally outweighed his nervousness.

“It’s not right that a visitor should sit by himself,” said Léof, standing up. It took a great deal of will power not to look back as he made his way over to the fireplace, and only the thought that he would make a total fool of himself if he backed out now kept him walking as he drew nearer.

The Elf was even fairer to look upon up close, and for a moment Léof’s tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth. His mind scrabbled for words, and seized upon the first that seemed appropriate. “Welcome,” he said. But of course, the Elf had already been welcomed by far more people than him! Foolish word. “I – I am called Léof.”

[littlemanpoet]

“Welcome," said the young man who had approached Laerdil. “I – I am called Léof.”

To the Elf, it was completely natural to observe the young man with all the percipience at his disposal. He read Léof's facial expression, his stance, his verbal hesitation, and the perimeters of his mind, where he found a mix of fear, and a deep well of courage that overcame fear.

"Thank you, Léof, for your kind welcome," the Elf smiled. "I am called Laerdil. "Please sit here close to the fire, if you like."

As Léof sat, Laerdil observed his hands and considered the scents of hay and leather and horses that were in the young man's - the boy's (he was so young) clothing. In truth, most of these Eorlingas had the horse smell on them, but not like this one.

"You are a lover of horses, I deem, and horses love you as well, Léof. How is that so?"

[Firefoot]

Léof

Léof looked at the Elf, startled. Did he read minds? Some of the old tales spoke of sorcery in the Golden Wood, and Léof was now much closer to believing them than he had been only minutes ago. But he saw no malice in Laerdil’s face, only honest interest, and his tone, too, had been neutral, so Léof tried to take the question at its face.

“It is true,” he answered. “I am the ostler here, and a better post I could not hope to have. I find horses to be… more dependable, and more honest, than most people – and I can be honest with them in return.”


~*~*~

Scyld

Listening to the various comments of Rowenna, Eodwine, and the others, and seeing now how Laerdil looked at young Léof, Scyld was beginning to formulate his own opinion of the Elf: he felt more than a bit like a bug in a jar such as young boys sometimes liked to collect, and he did not care much for the feeling. Given Thornden’s remark on the hearing of Elves, however, Scyld felt strongly inclined to keep his opinions to himself in such a public space.

He was also still uncomfortable with the queer emotions Laerdil’s music had caused in him, and with the emotions Rowenna had described. Then again, perhaps there was something about this Elf that opened people up. If that was so, perhaps he could use it. He just wasn’t quite sure how, yet.

“Well,” he said to Rowenna, resuming their conversation, “Middle-earth has seen enough sorrow just in our short lives; I can hardly imagine all of the sorrows he has had the chance to live through.” Personally, Scyld could not see the lure to live so long. Already, after just a quarter century of life, sometimes he wearied of the games and manipulations. But perhaps there were not bad Elves, as there were bad men. Though he had a difficult time imagining an Elvish Sorn, he doubted it. Better, he thought, to have a life miserable but short than long and sad.

[littlemanpoet]

Laerdil

“I am the ostler here, and a better post I could not hope to have. I find horses to be… more dependable, and more honest, than most people – and I can be honest with them in return.”

Most people, Laerdil noted, as the words tethered themselves to memories he could see in Léof's thought, played out almost as if they were happening before his own mind's eye, of a father from whom harsh words came, of soldiers treating him as an afterthought at best, or worse, a troublemaker to be beaten down. Set against them, warm beasts whose hearts he had won through his care of them, who knew his sure hands with riding gear and brush and feed. To them he was as one of them.

"Aye, that is maybe of Elves and Men. Beasts are true and whole. There is no guessing or second guessing with them."

Laerdil saw somewhere in Léof's mind that there were important exceptions among Men.

"Long have the Elves struggled to find trust in Middle Earth, not least among ourselves. Have you found any folk worthy of trust?"

[Folwren]

“I come from the West Emnet,” Ledwyn replied. “My husband was killed in an accident, by no fault of his, leaving me and our son Theolain to fair on our own. My young brother fed us and kept us warm for a year, but now he has his own family to feed. He would not abandon his kin, even if it meant for him and his wife to go hungry. I thought that… I mean, we shouldn’t have... I could not continue like that… We…” Ledwyn was unsure of where to procede. “If I could live here, I would not be a burden for him,” she finished.

Saeryn laid a hand gently on Ledwyn's, expressing through her touch and look that she did not have to try to explain herself further. She waited until Ledwyn raised her eyes to meet hers before she smiled, and answered.

"Of course you will be welcome to make your home here," she said gently. "We do not turn away the fatherless and the widows." This, at least, she assumed. This had been the rule under Eodwine, and since Athanar's coming, no one had come unexpectedly into the camp to ask for a home. But surely - surely, she thought - they would not turn away this mother and her child. She looked down at Theolain and could not resist running her hand over his ample shock of hair.

"Tell me what you do and how you hope to fit in here."

[Galadriel55]

Ledwyn’s mind was set at rest when Lady Saeryn assured her that she would be able to stay. The Lady was soft-spoken and kind-hearted, Ledwyn deemed. She did not grudge her motherly gesture to Theolain – and Saeryn herself would become mother as well soon enough – though the boy shied away bewilderedly from the strange touch. Ledwyn smiled slightly. This young woman was of high birth and probably the Eorl’s wife, yet she spoke with Ledwyn as if she was a lady too instead of a homeless village girl.

"Tell me what you do and how you hope to fit in here,” the Lady Saeryn asked. A question fit for the Eorl’s wife, Ledwyn thought. She has to know whom she is bringing to the hearth.

“I fear I do not know any trade or craft, if that is what you mean, my Lady,” she said, talking a piece of bread from the trencher that Saeryn brought her. “I am like all the womenfolk of my village: we were not taught skills beyond our necessity. I kept the house while my husband laboured. I can cook, sew, wash, and do all the things that a woman must do, but little beyond that.” Ledwyn bit off a piece of the loaf, gathering her daring. She knew she should not speak out of turn with any Lord or Lady, but Saeryn was gentle and invited conversation. “Are there other women in the Hall? What do they do?”

[Folwren]

"There are a few of us," Saeryn replied. She looked up and turned towards the table where the men sat eating. "There is Rowenna, speaking with the men there. You no doubt saw her as you came in, but maybe you did not notice her. And there," she went on, turning to look over her other shoulder, "is Kara, bringing out more bread, as you see. Ginna, Frodides, and Modtryth are in the kitchen. Lady Wynflaed is Lord Athanar's wife, and she does not take as much part in the running of the household as the rest of us. She has a couple hand maidens who help her, Lelige is the head of these. Aedhel, is the healer.

"There are a couple girls. Leodern is Garstan's daughter. And Aedre is Athanar's and Wynflaed's daughter. And that is all," she said. "As you can surmise from the telling, we are sadly outnumbered by the men." She laughed.

"You're coming will be more welcome than you know!" she said. "We are overwhelmed with the work that must be done to keep so many men from going hungry! You have exactly the skills we need, so do not worry that you will be a burden to us. You cannot be, trully. You will not be. Here, as soon as you are finished, I will take you to meet the other women in the kitchen. We will get you settled in directly and find a place for you and your son. It may be rough at first, we don't have very good quarters yet, being still in the process of building, but we'll make do."