Scarburg Meadhall

[littlemanpoet]

At long last, the sun was setting. Much had been accomplished. The "baker" was set up and Frodides and her helpers had started preparing a big repast to make up for a cold and sparse luncheon. Eodwine had ordered that two kegs be readied and that folk be encouraged to consider this supper their celebration, for after the baker had been completed and the animals situated to Léofric's satisfaction, two big tents had been erected, one for the women and one for the men with a promise from Eodwine to Stigend and Modtryth that families would be set up with their own tents on the morrow. The only other project Eodwine could think of that could not be delayed past the morrow was to set up Harreld with a temporary smithy. He talked with Harreld about what would be satisfactory for the next couple of days while they worked on a real smithy, and having gotten a good idea from him and an idea how to accomplish it, Eodwine felt that all was about as good as he could hope before sundown. But one thing remained to be done: Javan.

He walked slowly over to where the boy sat, looking sulky and as if he was feeling very sorry for himself. The ropes had been left with enough slack in them so that Javan could pick up a jar of water and drink from it, so he was not thirsty. But he had watched all the others eat while he did not. Eodwine came to a stop and stood before him.

"Javan, can you tell me the wrong that you did?"

Javan looked at him. The angry fire had died hours ago, but hot coals still remained, smoldering. He shook his head. "Not until my lord tells me the wrong that you did."

The boy's response felt like a kick in the face. Eodwine was unable to control a momentary flinch and scowl, but quickly brought his face back to calmness. He crossed his arms in front of him involuntarily. The boy's insolence was astounding. This was going to be a hard battle of wills. Eodwine was tempted to answer him abruptly with a punishment of all night on the ropes to think on his foolishness, and call it done, but held himself from it. Then he thought of the best response he could make.

"You are not in a position to bargain, Javan. As your Eorl and lord of the house you are given to, I may do with you what I deem best. Take thought and answer again, only this time with care."

Javan looked back down away from Eodwine's face. He considered for a long pause, and then he shook his head again. "I don't understand why I should be treated so when the first fault lies with you. I do not mean to be rude, sir, and I am not bargaining, but I am being treated and punished unfairly."

The boy was being serious! Very well. "Tell me what you think would be appropriate punishment for a boy who has proven that he cannot be trusted when out of sight because he burned down my stables and owes me one hundred days of labor, and who knows he is to do as he is told and stay where he can be seen, yet runs away at his first chance?"

Javan felt a slow heat spread up his neck and into his face. He answered with clipped tones. "I would not have gone if you had not so humiliated me by saying before all the others that 'Rowenna, you can take Javan-'" his voice altered slightly, bordering very, very near mockery, to make the quotation "- after naming all the jobs that had to be done. Besides," he grumbled, "you wanted the place explored."

The boy was making poor excuses and needed to be caught out on his own thinking every bit as much as on his misdeeds. "Think less on how you look to others and more on how your misdeeds hurt or harm others." If his words did not sink in with the boy now, and Eodwine was not sure they did, then he would have to speak more plainly yet. "Your duty is to do no more and no less than you are told, to your face. Javan, will you do your duty?"

Another long pause followed. Javan's eyes and face drooped farther until he was looking at the ground just before the eorl's boots. He thought of Leof and how he had been hurt when the stables burned. Slowly, Javan nodded his head. "Yes, lord. I will do my duty. But..." he looked up slowly. Eodwine waited. "Will you be fair to me?"

Just a little while longer, Eodwine, he schooled himself. "You did not answer my earlier question, and I cannot answer your new question until you do. So, again, what would be fair punishment for a boy who has proven that he cannot be trusted when out of sight and who knows he is to do as he is told and stay where he can be seen, yet runs away at his first chance? Answer straightly now."

Javan squirmed slightly, uncomfortable with the question. He wanted to say 'I don't know', but he somehow knew Eodwine would not allow that. His mind cast about for different answers. Almost unwittingly, he thought back on home. He shot a swift glance towards Eodwine. Why must there be any punishment just now? What he wanted was to be let off, but that's not what the eorl had asked.

"At home," Javan began quietly, and then stopped. He shifted on the ground again. "At home, if I disobeyed or ran off instead of doing the chores, father would thrash me," he mumbled. "But you've already punished me!"

His father's punishment did not work, thought Eodwine, for punishment wrought in anger heaps a double revenge back on the punisher. Eodwine had thought the boy spoiled for lack of punishment, but here it turned out that it was for foolish punishment. "I will not and would not thrash you or anyone. I do not punish in anger but toward an end. In your case, one end has been to relieve my men and women from having to run after you again and again. Had I a room to lock you in, I would have done so. Another end has been to get you alone and still long enough in body to make you think. I have also seen fit to make you hungry, which is little pain though no joy, I know. I made you hungry to help you think carefully, for if you still answer poorly, hunger will stay with you.

"So now you know my ends in how I have punished you. Do you still think them unfair? And if so, I ask you yet again what punishment deserving of your misdeeds would suit it better? Or has your punishment been meet?"

Javan did think carefully, for he was very hungry and the thought of going without any supper at all worried him. Besides that, Eodwine's reasoning seemed perfectly solid, there were no holes or cracks to squeaze through and escape. He wanted to think of something, an excuse, a delay, something that proved him not quite so guilty as Eodwine thought. But he reconsidered everything that had just been said and came out with nothing.

Finally, feeling himself defeated and being half resentful therefore, he answered. "No, sir. The punishment was not unfair." Further words lingered on his tongue - 'But you should not have allowed Rowenna to treat me so' or 'But you might have not done it in front of everybody' - and only a twinge from his empty stomach stopped them.

The boy's words were the right ones, but said sullenly, which belied that he thought differently than he spoke, in some unknown way. Eodwine knew that his goal was to conquer the boy's insolence into submission, and the temptation was to allow him to save face; but there was a better goal, which was not only to get the boy to see what was right, but to convince him to want to do what was right.

"I will see that you have supper. You will stay here, though. We are not finished with this." Eodwine walked away toward the makeshift kitchen.

[littlemanpoet]

When Eodwine arrived at the kitchen, he ordered Kara to give Javan something he could eat in his current predicament. Given her nod and "yes lord", he moved on to where the others sat at supper. Falco appeared to be the center of attention, especially of the children. Where had the hobbit been all day? He couldn't remember seeing him anywhere all afternoon. Eodwine began to listen to see if the hobbit would provide an answer himself.

"I got as far as the Scar off northeast away, and there I found tracks, so I followed 'em."

"What kind of tracks were they, Master Falco?" asked Cnebba, full of interest.

"They was human tracks, booted no less."

"Did you find who it was that made them?" asked Garmund.

"Maybe I did an' maybe I didn't," the hobbit answered with a grin, and would say no more, but busied himself with his ham hock, black bread, and ale.

[Folwren]

Thornden saw Eodwine return from speaking with Javan and immediately moved nearer him. When he heard Eodwine’s order to Kara, he waited until the eorl had passed on to listen to Falco and then he went after Kara.

“Can I take it to him?” he asked her as she cut some bread and laid it on a trencher. She looked up over her shoulder at him.

“I didn’t know you had followed me,” she said. She turned back to the food. “You would know better than I if you could take it. Let me cut some ham for him first, so that he can eat it…” She picked up a knife as she spoke and carved generous slices off for him. Then she rose and handed the plate to Thornden.

“Thank you,” he said.

The distance from the baker to where Javan was bound was several yards. Thornden had many seconds to study his brother as he approached, and Javan had just as much time to scowl back at him.

“Here is your supper,” Thornden said, setting it down within reach of Javan’s hands.

“Thanks,” Javan muttered.

Thornden expected the boy to act starved and set swiftly into the meal, but Javan did not seem in a hurry and he picked up the meat and began to eat at a regular pace.

“Aren’t you terribly hungry?” Thornden asked.

“Yes. Or, I was,” Javan replied. “But lord Eodwine is going to come back when I’m through and talk to me again.”

“That is not such a bad thing, is it?” Thornden asked. “He hasn’t yelled at you, nor done anything worse than tie you up, and done it so you can be somewhat comfortable. He could have been harder.” Javan did not answer. Thornden sighed and sat down in front of him and waited.

After a minute of silence, beside the noise of chewing, Javan glanced up. “Can’t you untie me, so I can eat properly?” Thornden shook his head. “You people are ridiculous.”

“Your own foolish childishness got you here.” Javan gave him a black look. “I was ashamed of being your brother today,” Thornden told him.

“And I was not happy to be yours!” Javan burst out. “You didn’t say a word! Didn’t stand up for me at all! I could just as well have been a complete stranger, for all you did about it!”

Thornden got up. “I am not going to interfere with Eodwine’s orders on your behalf. Not when you so obviously deserve it. I hope lord Eodwine knows what he’s doing when he comes back and talks with you again. You obviously haven’t learned any lesson from this.”

“And you’re scolding me does teach me something,” Javan said bitterly.

“I don’t know what will teach you anything,” Thornden replied, his voice quieter this time. “I just hope something will.” He turned and walked away.

[piosenniel]

This thread is now open for play.

All players need to familiarize themselves with the Scarburg Meadhall Discussion Thread.

Please get the Abbreviated Character Bio form shown there done for your characters and posted to that thread in a timely manner.

Any NEW players to this continuation of The Eorling Mead Hall game must post their character bio(s) on the Scarburg Discussion Thread prior to posting to this game.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

will remove this once every one has posted to the game.....

[littlemanpoet]

Having finished his supper, Eodwine walked over to Javan again. The boy looked none the happier for having eaten, but Eodwine did not expect more.

"Did you get food?"

Javan nodded. "Yes. Thornden brought some for me. Are you going to untie me now? He said he could not, I guess you hadn't told him to."

"Not yet. There is still something that has not been dealt with between you and me." Eodwine looked for a comfortable place to sit, but decided that being at eye level with the lad would not be wise at the moment; seeing no rock or branch close by big enough to hold his weight, he remained standing. "You are too full of how you appear before others. Why is that?"

Javan wondered what the eorl was driving at. What did this have anything to do with it? What did he want? Why did he have to stay tied? In the time that it took to ask these questions in his head, he remained in what probably appeared to Eodwine to be obstinate silence. His answer confirmed the assumption. "I don't know what you mean," he said. He saw Eodwine draw a breath and open his mouth, probably to explain more clearly, as quietly and gently as he always did. "I mean," Javan pressed on a little more loudly, "I don't know what you intend me to do - be happy with humiliation?"

"No. I intend to teach you not to get yourself into scrapes that bring about your own humiliation. The problem with you, Javan, is that you think first of yourself, whether to bring yourself pleasure, or to avoid pain and humiliation. You need to stop thinking first of yourself, and start thinking first of others. What if you had thought of others' needs before your own desires when you went running off this morning?"

Javan felt frustrated, and stubborn. He still did not understand how his behavior earlier had harmed anyone. He knew that burning the stables had been wrong, even if it was an accident, and he understood the consequences for that, but this had not hurt anyone, it would never have hurt anyone, and if anything, it would only have freed one person of having to keep an eye on him. He therefore kept his mouth shut - more than shut, he clenched his jaw - and he kept his eyes fixed steadily on the ground in front of him.

Javan was saying nothing. Eodwine was ready for this. "Javan, you must answer or you must remain here for the night. Make your choice."

"You can't leave me tied up all night!" Javan blurted out without thinking, alarmed at the threat. Javan stopped, recoiled and tried to recover his calm. "I mean, I don't know how to answer! Running off wouldn't have caused anyone any harm or inconvenience! Honest, it wouldn't've!"

"Think, Javan! Did not Rowenna have to chase you? She was inconvenienced. Everyone who has been charged to look after you has been inconvenienced. Having to look after an irresponsible boy because he cannot be trusted to look after himself is an inconvenience. Begin to show some responsibility and you will no longer be an inconvenience to others. Do you understand, Javan? Think carefully before you answer, for I most certainly can and will leave you tied up all night if I think it will do you good."

Javan shrank back into himself further. Eodwine meant all that he said entirely, and Javan had no reason in the world to doubt it now. His words were piercing and humbling and Javan hung his head in shame.

When Eodwine was done, Javan answered quietly, almost too quietly to be heard. "Yes, sir," was all he said.

Eodwine got down on his left knee, his right elbow resting on his raised right knee. He brought new intensity to his voice, not with the hard will with which he had been speaking, but with hope in his tone. "Very well. You have a choice now, Javan, whether to become a man or forever be a boy no matter how many years you live. To become a man is to be good for your word, to be the first one to question your own behavior, to seek to do right by all, and thereby to do right by yourself. It is to be a man of honor, an Eorling, like your brother. Like the King in Meduseld. Or-" Eodwine paused for effect. "-or you could choose to remain one who must be looked after and not trusted. Would you rather be a mounted knight of the Eored, or a mere vagabond?"

Of course the answer was obvious, put in those words. "I want to be a man," Javan replied, glancing upwards briefly. "I'll try. I will try." Then doubt confronted him suddenly. "But what if I forget to think first? Like when I lit the fire or ran off? Then you will never trust me, and you will always think I am nothing better than - than a vagabond."

Eodwine smiled. "Mending one's ways takes time. I have time and so do you. I want one vow from you and one only, that you will never give up trying to become a man of honor, and in return I make this vow to you, that I will treat you as if you are my son; for I have begun to do so already. If you will so swear, so will I. Will you?"

Javan finally looked up at him and met his eyes. Although the light of day was almost gone and dim shadow covered lord Eodwine, Javan still saw the earnest gentleness in his face.

"I will swear," Javan said after a long pause.

Eodwine smiled but did not allow his expression to show too much elation. This was serious business, especially for this boy. "Very well. I will untie you. Walk with me, and you and I will swear in sooth before witnesses." Eodwine loosed the boy's bonds and stood up to wait, for the boy to shake loose his limbs and walk with him, or get up, turn tail and flee: this was the first test.

Javan first rubbed his wrists, for although the ropes had not been tied tightly, they had chaffed against his skin all day. Then he rose, wincing as his cramped muscles were stretched. Pressing his lips together in attempt to conceal the discomfort, he nodded to Eodwine, indicating he was ready to go.

Eodwine nodded. "Come, Javan, walk beside me." They walked side by side back to the others.

[Kath]

Kara smiled to see Eodwine finally untie Javan and head back towards them, with the Eorl looking happier and Javan at least less mutinous than he had earlier. Those events had only been on the periphery of her awareness for most of the day however, as helping to build a makeshift kitchen and then getting a meal ready for all the hungry people that had been labouring all day had taken most of her attention. In addition, once she and Ginna had returned from fetching what little free wood there was to find they had been given the extra duty of keeping an eye on Leodern, who was too little to climb the trees and help like the other children but was sure to get in the way and get hurt if she wasn't watched.

Surprisingly though it was Frodides who took over care of the little girl, leaving Kara and Ginna to deal with dinner. It seemed that the older cook had decided to give her two proteges a little more responsibility after their move to Scarburg, something that both girls had taken on happily though they doubted it would last once a real kitchen existed for Frodides to reign over again.

In the meantime they had taken the advantage of a distracted supervisor to have a good old gossip. It was something Frodides would likely have enjoyed, but without the usual soundproofing offered by the thick walls at the old Mead Hall there would have been no way to stop everything she said being heard by those that shouldn't hear it. As well as that, Kara wanted to talk to Ginna about a certain master Harreld, and she knew the girl trusted her to keep anything she heard quiet than she did Frodides. Ginna hadn't known the older woman as long as Kara had, and didn't yet realise that despite Frodides’ love of a good chat, she would take a confidence to the grave.

“So,” Kara started quietly, “have you thought any more about Harreld?”

Ginna gave her friend a startled look, her head then shooting to the side to check that no one else had heard.

“What do you mean?” She replied, hoping this wasn’t going where she thought it might be.

“Well, last I heard you’d given him the brush off.” Kara continued. “I thought perhaps he might be discouraged from coming here because of that and yet here he is, so I was wondering if maybe you’d said anything more to him?”

Ginna shook her head slowly, a slight frown on her face as she concentrating on her work.

“I thought … I doubted that he would come to Scarburg, I thought I had, well, it doesn’t matter.”

Now it was Kara’s turn to frown. She had thought this would be a rather light conversation, having assumed that Harreld’s appearance had been due to words between him and Ginna. She was obviously mistaken, but now wanted more information if only in order to help stop her friend looking so despondent.

“It matters if it’s upsetting you.” She said gently, hoping to draw Ginna out a bit but not wanting to push. She thought that perhaps Ginna felt that she had said enough as she didn’t reply for a long moment, but eventually she put down what she was doing, stared down at her hands and began to speak.

“It does upset me, but it’s my own fault. I led him on Kara, I … I knew how he felt and I knew that my own feelings didn’t stretch as far and yet I let him think that they did. I feel so guilty for that. I just, I was in such a new place with so many new people and it was nice to know that I, well that I had a little bit of power I suppose, and that was just cruel of me. And now I don’t know how to talk to him or even if I should because I know that I’ve hurt him and I want to make it better somehow, but I just don’t know how.”

The words came out in a jumble, she had obviously been holding all of this in for a long time, but the feelings behind them were clear. Kara was saddened to see the glint of tears in Ginna’s eyes and went to comfort her. Putting an arm around Ginna’s shoulders she pulled her friend close and stroked her hair, just as she’d have done with Leodern.

“I’m sorry.” She said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s alright.” Ginna replied, voice tight as she tried to control the desire to cry. “I think maybe I needed to talk about it. I did a horrible thing and I want so much to make it right but I’m scared that I can only make things worse.”

“You haven’t spoken to him at all since …?”

“No. I want to, but every time I imagine what I might say to him there’s just a blank. I have no idea what to do for the best so I decided to just leave it and hope that maybe with time and a new place he might forgive me. I’m not sure I deserve it but I hate that I feel scared every time we pass each other.”

“Scared?” Kara asked, surprised. “But Harreld would never harm you. He might be hurt but – ”

“No!” Ginna cried. “That’s not what I mean at all! It’s just, when you hurt someone and you know that it’s your fault you feel afraid to be near them because, well, because you’re scared that by being near them you’ll just hurt them again. Or because if you try to talk to them that might be the wrong thing for them. It’s, oh it’s impossibly to try and explain Kara, I’m sorry.”

“Oh no it’s alright, I think I understand.” Kara said, shushing Ginna gently for she had become quite agitated as she failed to find the words to explain what she meant. “Though I’m not sure I can help at all. It’s a very sticky situation, but maybe just leaving it isn’t the best idea? I know that you’re worried about how he’ll react but perhaps explaining or even just apologising to Harreld might make things easier? You’re carrying around so much guilt and he so much hurt. A conversation would be very difficult on both of you but it might help afterwards.”

“I don’t know.” Ginna replied, sounding lost. “I just don’t know how to deal with this at all, and that makes me not want to deal with it all the more. Can we just, please let’s just leave it for now? Maybe when everything is more settled here we’ll talk about it again. Until then I think I’d rather we didn’t talk about Harreld anymore.”

Kara was about to agree to that when the conversation was interrupted by a clear little voice piping up from behind them.

“Why wouldn’t you want to talk about Harreld? I think he’s lovely.”

The two girls turned to find Leodern, perched on Frodides’ hip, right behind them. Glancing around quickly Kara was relieved to find that no one else had heard the comment, indeed most people were now concentrated around Eodwine and Javan. She opened her mouth to try and distract the little girl from her line of questioning, but found herself interrupted again by Frodides who had scented gossip and was now determined to have some.

“Yes.” The older cook said, settling herself in next to Kara and Ginna. “Why ever not?”

[Folwren]

It was morning. Horrible, bright, bitter morning. It seemed that so many other mornings had dawned just like this one - unkind, unfriendly, unwanted.

While all the rest of the earth rejoiced in new found strength after a night of peace and rest, Saeryn and her horse went on with weary, stumbling steps. They had not slept. They had not rested. They had only pressed on for mile after mile. The darkness had veiled them from unfriendly eyes and the moon shone kind, cool rays to light their road, opposed to the hot, fierce light of the sun.

But now the sun was back. The day would heat up quickly, and unless they came to water soon, or to the eorl’s new land, Saeryn was sure either her horse or herself would collapse for want of drink.

How was she going to explain herself? Not only her sudden, unexpected arrival, but also her condition, her appearance, and where she had been for the past month. She didn’t know.

The road made a bend up ahead into some trees. Her horse pricked up his ears and lifted his head a little. Extra life came into his step and he quickened the pace. Saeryn lifted her head as they entered the shadow of the first trees and then sat up straighter when she saw the crooked gate. Just as she passed through it, Saeryn drew rein and stopped.

She looked down the incline before her, viewing the burnt ruins of the hall and the tents, baker, and the rest of the camp. Disbelief filled her face. How could this possibly be the Eorl’s new holding? But there they all were. She could see figures walking about, their day already begun.

Her horse caught sight of the other horses before she did. He raised his head and whinnied loudly. Some of the horses below raised their heads from their hay and whinnied back, briefly, before returning to their breakfast.

Saeryn shook her head slowly and allowed her horse to go forward again, starting down the incline towards the encampment.

[Mnemosyne]

Seeing her husband rise to leave the hall, Wynflaed rose to follow him. As soon as she was out of the hall her steps quickened until she had caught up to him. She rested her hand on his arm.

"I hope my lord has enjoyed himself this evening?" she said with a small, somewhat sad smile.

Athanar heaved a sigh.

"We do seem to have our work laid out for us..." They reached the private chamber reserved for the eorl and his wife.

Stepping inside, they found Lilige waiting. She dropped a curtsey.

"Good evening, Lilige," said Wynflaed. "I trust Aedre behaved herself?"

"Indeed she did, my lady. I sent her to bed two hours after sundown."

"Thank you. I will not require your services any further this night; it is late and there will be much to do tomorrow. My husband will assist me."

Lilige curtsied again and left the room. Wynflaed sat down at the edge of the bed and began to work at the braids that her maid's fine work had kept tightly bound to her head through the entire banquet. Silently Athanar moved behind her to help work them free.

"I am glad," said Wynflaed, "that Aedre seems to have gotten through the evening well despite her mistreatment earlier today. I shall have to check on her myself tomorrow morning."

"That was plain outrageous... I could understand displeasure with changes, even action like Lithor’s… but roughing with a young girl... and eorl's daughter! I’m not going to be lenient with that person, whoever it was..."

"Athanar, you are pulling at my hair!”

“Oh, forgive me… I was getting upset…" Athanar was confused. "Do you know who it was that bullied her?

“From what I gathered from her account, it was a boy around her age. Apparently he said that you weren't the real eorl here, and she felt the need to correct him. Lilige said she recognized the child... I believe Javan was his name. At any rate, I think we need to hear the account from more people ere we pass judgment; Lilige only walked in at the tail end and Aedre has been known to embellish things in the past..." She sighed. "But justice must be taken. It is never right nor honorable to strike a lady, especially a child."

“Hmm… but if it was also a child who did that...” Lord Athanar fell into his thoughts while still unwinding the braids from his wife’s hair. He sighed heavily. “I was ready to get that person flogged for real you know, but if it was a child as well… you’re right, Aedre might not be totally blameless then…”

“Are you suggesting…”

“Oh no my dear. I think the kid needs a punishment. It’s not only what happened between him and Aedre, but it is a matter of principle that eorl’s daughter is not to be bullied… and if she is, there will be consequences.”

There was a silence while both concentrated on opening the last braids from Wynflaed’s hair. When it was done Wynflaed started combing her hair and lord Athanar sat down next to her on the edge of the bed looking at his wife. She was still a beautiful lady, actually he had always thought she looked even fairer with her hair open.

“What have you thought with that Lithor?” Wynflaed asked, still combing her hair.

"That Lithor deserves a fair punishment... and people should understand why it is so… things like this must be resolved determinedly. Especially if what you told about this Javan is true; that he had also questioned the eorldom… I will allow no disrespect or mutinies in my Hall and that kind of thoughts need to be cut off firmly and immediately."

"It was good of you, my love, to involve Thornden in that decision. I could, perhaps, understand Master Lithor's words at the beginning--speaking out of ill habit or misunderstanding, but afterwards?" She sighed. "I am rather glad it is not my place to determine treason among soldiers. At any rate I fear that the laxer style of command Eodwine appears to have exerted extended to his men at arms as well. I do not know what to make of that."

Wynflaed smiled. "What exactly did Wulfric and Wilheard tell you, anyhow? They refused to say anything of what they had heard Thornden and Lithor talking about, except that it was all treason."

"I’m not sure, they told me the same, well, they said Lithor had suggested treachery but then again Thornden had not aswered him… I do actually trust this Thornden fellow and what they said confirms it to me... but the treason then? If that Lithor has actually suggested some tricks it will be worse for him. Do you know what happened there in the first place? Where did that claim come from?"

"Apparently they overheard the two talking, leaped to conclusions, and tried to take matters into their own hands--or fists, I should say. By the time I and Thornden arrived Wilheard had his fist aimed for Lithor's face. I got there in the nick of time, as you might say, but they did not take their chiding very well." She sighed. "They appeared to be under the impression that Lithor was planning to kill you, had been the one to hurt Aedre, and all sorts of other things. I tried telling them that their violence would only make matters worse, but Wulfric told me--his own mother--that I cared more for these strangers than my own family's welfare and that I would do nothing to stop these so-called traitors until you laid dead at my feet!"

"What? They acted like that on you? What a disgrace!” Lord Athanar was clearly agitated and sprang up from the bed. After some furious walking around he finally came to her wife now a bit more settled. Stroking gently her hair he bent down to her. “What have we done wrong with them my love? I mean, look at Degas and Saeryn, they must be approximately their age – and how they behave, how they carry themselves like noblemen do…"

Wynflaed shook her head; her eyes glimmered just a little at the lashes. "They do not understand honour or nobility beyond mere prowess on the saddle, and I do not see how they ever will. Maybe if the Southrons attack Gondor again and Eomer calls for a muster?" She sighed. "A little war would do great wonders for our sons, and gladly would I see them put in harm's way if they came out of it as men and not these overgrown children."

“You might be right my love, but they have to learn… and one can’t order wars just to get his children educated into the secrets of nobility…” Athanar actually laughed for the thought and kissed his wife gently on the neck taking a soft grip on her shoulder.

He stood up and started walking around again… but how? but how?

"Wait a minute my dearest... I think I have it!"

Wynflaed rose to join him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Tell me!"

"Lady Saeryn will have a child, but it will take twenty years for the child to grow up..." Athanar whispered to her ear, pulling her closer. "If we do it well here - and that requires that these people look well on us – king Eomer will be pleased… and we can be far away from here then: in Edoras, Minas Tirith, Dol Amroth... whatever you fancy my dear. Back with civilization..." He folded her in his arms.

"Mmm..."

"So why don't we adopt Saeryn as our heir?" With that he pushed her a little away from him to look at her in the eyes. "That would grant the good will of the people here, and our sons would get a reminder of needing to actually earn their status themselves." He was smiling.

Wynflaed laughed. "They will not like that, I'm afraid! And I daresay they shall rather deserve it, if this carefree behavior of theirs continues!"

"Exactly. And I actually trust Saeryn not to wish for any other inheritance than this Mead Hall to her child... she feels like a true noblewoman, even if she’s so young and emotional; but we might make such a clausule in the deal that her inheritance would concern only this Mead Hall and nothing else we might own by that time… or later."

Wynflaed stepped out of her husband's embrace and walked over to the bedside table where her jewelry box lay. "Hum. It does seem to be a better solution than any others I have thought through this night. I am not sure how the common people will understand or take to it, though. They may think that we are merely using the adoption to further our own ends and control the Lady Saeryn further, if they do not see that we would be leaving her and her child all the property they would have had if not for Eodwine's illness. We shall have to give the matter some more thought."

“You’re right Wynflaed… as always.” Athanar gave her a smile and sat back on the bed starting to open his shoelaces. “I’ll think about it… we’ll think about it.”