Eorling Mead Hall

[littlemanpoet]

Now this was interesting. Eodwine was sure that he had seen Léof looking very nervous when he had first come into the Hall. Now the lad had spoken plainly and clearly, and with a good bit of confidence. Eodwine was actually impressed. He watched Léof measuringly for another moment or two, and did not see so much as an ill at ease shifting of foot to foot; the lad looked at him, eye to eye, simply awaiting the Eorl's response. Eodwine allowed a slow smile.

"Léof, you have done well as ostler. I have just one complaint."

The crowd murmured at that, for so far Eodwine had said no ill thing to the others. He waited for the murmurs to die down, every eye turned to him, waiting for the possibly fatal words.

"It is the matter of your foot. Not that you had an injury, for that could happen to any good ostler with a terrified horse or two to mind. No, it was your refusal to have it cared for. I do not know what passed through your mind to be so mulish about it, but as you know, I overruled you and forced your foot to be looked at, minded, and we hope, healed.

"So I ask you, not only if you will submit to my orders and rulings as they are given, but will you also submit to the rulings of those in whom I place my authority? What is your answer?"

[Firefoot]

Of course that would come up. His confidence wavered visibly as a multitude of thoughts passed through his mind in the space of a few seconds. Certainly this was a reasonable request, and Léof could not say it was surprising, either, although the thought had never occurred to him. But his pride – in the house of his father, rebellion had come as second nature to him; he was used to looking out for himself, although of course Eodwine had no knowledge of this, close-mouthed as he had been. Eodwine’s word, he had accepted as the rule when he had come here asking for work; but to place himself in submission to still more people…

You are foolish, considering your mule-headed pride at a time like this. Would you have Eodwine send you away because of your pride? Surely you would be able to walk away with your head held high, you and your foolish pride!

But still… having to listen, if they thought they knew what was best for him - Thornden, Garwine, Æðel... Léof wondered if Eodwine knew just how much he asked of him.

He raised his gaze from the ground to meet Eodwine’s once more. He hesitated, then nodded slowly and spoke clearly. “It is no easy thing for me to say, but, yes, I will.”

[littlemanpoet]

Eodwine did not know fully why, but he felt pity rise up within him. He would never tell this to Léof, who desired no man's pity, but Eodwine perceived an unnamed need in the lad. He knew that he had asked an open ended question, and that by answering it in its fullness, Léof was saying much. Now that he had so spoken, Eodwine spoke carefully in return.

"Léofric, you shall remain my ostler. Only one man's authority stands at all times between mine and you, that of my steward. All others will have no call to give you command unless I say so. Thus it shall be for a year and a day, if you choose to remain as you have been this past month. Would you?"

Léof's face had cleared as he listened to Eodwine's words. Though he could read no minds, Eodwine could tell well enough that the lad was glad to be under only one other in Eodwine's Hall.

"I accept your terms, Eorl," Léof responded.

"It is well, Léofric. You may stand down.

"Next, I call Saeryn of the Folde!"

Saeryn looked suddenly at Eodwine in confusion, for they both knew that she was a guest in his Hall and no laborer except by choice. She slowly rose in her confusion.

Eodwine stood and stepped down from the dais. He faced her as she stepped out of the gathered crowd and approached him. By instinct, she took a place opposite and facing him so that his dais and chair could be seen between them by Gárwine who stood by the door.

Eodwine smiled, knowing his purpose, and allowed his smile to broaden ever so slightly, for he intended to enjoy the speaking of it.

"Lady Saeryn, I stand before you as an equal, for you are wellborn. You are my guest, and up until today have been under no obligation to me except what you have chosen."

He had piqued her curiosity; it was all over his face. He allowed a glance to the one called Farahil, who was watching intently. Degas looked quite curious as well.

"Today is a different day," Eodwine declared. "And so I ask you, Lady Saeryn, if you will consent-" Eodwine paused, allowing a murmur to run like a trickle through the gathered crowd before quieting. "-to be the Lady of this Hall-" The murmurs of the crowd flowed like a stream gathering speed. Saeryn's eyes had widened and her mouth had parted. "-until at least one of us should marry?" Stunned silence. Eodwine could feel the eyes of all upon him. He was enjoying it. He could see in his peripheral vision the confoundment of Degas and the astonishment in Farahil. Was that a little bit of outrage, too? He kept a small smile on his face, watching Saeryn carefully.