Eorling Mead Hall

[Firefoot]

If Léof had not been responsible for the safety of both Javan and the horses, if this plan had been proposed to him by a friend back before he had come to the Hall (although friends had been scarce), he might have thought the plot would be fun and harmless. Might have. As it was, Léof was much quicker to see the pitfalls than the benefits of such a plan. Javan was so excited about it, though, that he hated to tell him no.

“These horses don’t really do much jumping,” Léof explained instead.

“Just once or twice,” Javan wheedled.

“Javan, these horses aren’t for our pleasure – they’re for us to exercise and care for, and I’m responsible for their safety – and yours,” said Léof, less firmly than he might have liked, and nor did he look at Javan, bending over one of the horse’s feet instead.

“It wouldn’t be dangerous!” said Javan. Léof’s concern was starting to rapidly escalate by now. Javan’s willingness to bend the rules disturbed him, and Léof wasn’t sure that Javan was really taking the work seriously. It wouldn’t all be fun and games.

He was saved from answering, however, as a scream rent the air. Two instincts warred inside Léof’s head: to go help or to stay with the horses still tied in the aisle. “Javan, help me get these horses into stalls,” he said, deftly unclipping one and taking it to the nearest empty stall – he was unconcerned that at the moment it had no bedding in it. “Come on!”

[Lhunardawen]

At Frodides's bidding Ginna took over washing the dishes, as the cook saw about the food. "I cannot be trusted yet with cooking," she had sheepishly informed Frodides, and so she was asked to finish the task left discontinued at her and Eodwine's interruption.

Ginna was carrying the dishes to the table when she noticed a hobbit enter the kitchen. "Good mor--" she began her greeting, and ended it with an earsplitting shriek; so loud it was that the crash of earthenware on the floor went unheard. Ginna gaped at the...creature - or two - or two in one - whatever it was that followed the hobbit - what was it?

"Oh no, girl, what have you done?" she heard Frodides say.

"I-I-I'm sorry..." she stammered at Frodides's general direction. Flushing wildly in embarrassment, she knelt down on the floor to pick up the pieces of broken earthenware, fearfully glancing at the strange creature now and again. It seemed to have noticed the trouble it had caused, and awkwardly hurried forward to help her. Ginna was so startled at its approach that she failed to notice a particularly sharp fragment near her hand until her palm brushed against it. A cry of pain escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

There came the sound of many hurried footsteps, and then the Lord Eodwine, Marenil, and a very displeased-looking Randvér burst into the kitchen. Ginna abruptly stood and hung her head, biting her lips to keep her tears from falling - and not because of the bleeding hand she held in her unharmed other.

[littlemanpoet]

The moment Eodwine entered the kitchen, the new kitchen wench, Ginna, stood up abruptly, standing before broken earthenware and a kneeling Ritun and Lefun.

"Now why did you go and scream so?" Falco demanded.

"Master Baggins, be quiet!" Eodwine ordered. "Falco, escort Ritun and Lefun out of the kitchen in all haste, that way!" Eodwine pointed to the far door that led to the Alder Court. It was obvious what had happened: Ginna thought she had been confronted by a monster. She was holding one hand in the other. Still, it was necessary for the girl to speak for herself.

"Ginna, tell us what happened."

[Lhunardawen]

Holding her hands behind her back, Ginna calmed herself with a deep breath and plunged into the tale.

"I had been carrying the dishes to the table when the hobbit entered with his--" she hesitated, and settled with "companions. They surprised me, but I shouldn't have screamed so."

From the corner of her eyes she could see the hard expression on her father's face, and tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the lord's questioning look towards the floor.

"And I am so sorry for the dishes," she added as she followed Eodwine's gaze, and quickly glanced apologetically at Frodides. "They slipped from my hands. I will do what is needed to replace them. And please, do not blame--them," she gestured at the door through which the three left the kitchen. "They did nothing wrong. It was all my fault."

She stopped, realising she had spoken too much. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and proceeded to pick up another broken piece from the floor, careful to hide her wound. She tried not to think about her father's exasperation, or the lord's and Frodides's disappointment, or what lay ahead of her now, concentrating instead on cleaning up the mess she made with as little damage to her hands and her dignity as possible.

[Kath]

The screams and crashing that had echoed round the kitchen had Frodides clutching her heart and concentrating on little else than making sure the kitchen roof hadn't fallen in again, but as Ginna resumed picking up the pieces of shattered bowl from the floor the little spots of blood that followed the trail of her hands caught her eye and she finally noticed the reason for the second cry that had come out of the girl. Shaking her head in sympathy she slowly bent down, wincing as her knees cracked, and carefully took Ginna's hands in her own, placing the fragments back on the floor.

"Come on, let's get this washed up and looked after." She murmured quietly, aware that Ginna wasn't far from weeping and not wanting an overly harsh tone to push her into doing just that while the man Frodides assumed was her father was watching.

"But-I-the bowls?" Ginna stuttered, trying to pick the pieces up still even as Frodides guided her to her feet.

"Never you mind the bowls, they can be replaced. It's your hand we need to look at. Here we go, sit down now."

Gently she pushed the shaking girl onto a stool and then filled a bowl with water and placed Ginna's bleeding hand into it.

"Just you keep that there while I clear up, alright?"

Not waiting for an answer Frodides grabbed the broom and made her way back to the mess on the floor, behind which Eodwine and Ginna's father were still standing.

"I doubt she'll need the Healer my Lord. The cut isn't deep and it's shock and embarrassment that has her shivering like that not pain. It would be wise though I think if everyone were to leave, recovery is often faster when it's only yourself you have to look out for."

[littlemanpoet]

"Well said, Frodides," Eodwine replied. He smiled at his cook. "Let us return to the Mead Hall, my friends." Randvér and Marenil followed him back out of the kitchen.

Eodwine had not known Frodides very long, having become a regular at the White Horse Inn, the Mead Hall's old name, just months before Bêthberry had decided to run off on adventure and leave it in his hands, cahooting no doubt with the King to have him Eorled. Eodwine shook his head. And the Frodides had noised about ending her time as cook once a suitable replacement could be found. That replacement had now been found, but truth be told, there was enough work for both Kara and Frodides, even with Ginna's help on top of it all. And he still had to find a new hostess, somehow. The train of his thought finally made it to the point he had been aiming for: he was happy to have Frodides about. She was solid and stolid and knew when to apply barbed word as well as salvy speech. And that was all beyond her excellent cooking! So he hoped she would not leave any time soon. She would be needed, especially with a new property for Eodwine to see to. Which reminded him of Marenil.

Once they had sat down again, Eodwine broached the subject as they ate and drank.

"Marenil, I recall the many ideas you had to improve this place."

"Yes, Eorl."

"I thought well of them all as good ideas but did not feel them all well-suited to my Eorling." Eodwine paused and let the silence bring out whatever question might be poised in Marenil's mind.

"Pray, what, lord, do your words this morning tend toward?"

Eodwine smiled. "The King has given me the land of Sorn, to turn it into the new ways. The very same ways you had spoken of. I will of course obey the king's wishes. But I need a man I can trust to go there and see this thing through. What would you think were you that man?"

[Folwren]

Javan’s head jerked up and turned as he heard the sound of a woman’s scream. It was near enough to send his heart leaping to his throat, but the very idea that anyone could have made such a sound reach them was in itself startling enough. Startling and exciting. He quickly followed Léof’s example, released the horse from his restraint and led him into another empty stall. He quickly released him and exited, closing and latching the door behind himself.

Léof had already come out and he waved to Javan to follow him. Javan ran up the aisle after him and together they burst out into the open sunlight.

“Who was it?” Javan asked, as they crossed the yard towards the hall.

“I don’t know,” Léof said, “but she may need help.”

Out of one of the side doors of the hall came a short, round figure. Javan slowed his steps and turned his head to look again. He had never seen a hobbit before and he couldn’t help his eyes becoming round at the sight of a man only three feet high. But someone followed Falco who caused Javan to forget about the hobbit, and also caused his eyes to become even larger and rounder, and made his feet stop altogether. His mouth dropped open half an inch and his mind was completely wiped of any memory of his mother ordering him not to stare.

What was it? Not man, not elf (Javan had never seen an elf, but he’d heard of them, and this certainly wasn’t one of them), not an animal - it had the faces of men. But what was it?

The answer was impossible for Javan to come by, so instead of doing what an older and more sensible person might do and either go ask or leave immediately so as not to be rude, he stood stock still and stared.