At War in Love. The Shadow over Rhudaur Part IV

Chapter 16. After-Dinner Talk

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Eryndil's house in Cameth Brin. Evening of November 8, 1347.
Written by Rian
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As she looked over the dinner on the table, Rildorien's brow was deeply furrowed. She was very worried - but not about the dinner, or even the strange way that her husband had unexpectedly brought home those new servants the night before. Well, she was worried a little about that, though the excitement around it had died down in the past day. But that worry was dwarfed by another one.

She thought back to when Caelen had shown up in the riding outfit just a few days ago. Her heart had gone out to the poor, young thing - orphaned and alone - and she had tried her best to help her. And then Caelen had burst into tears, and Rildorien had seen Eryndil's face - he had always hated when women cried, and would do anything he could to help. Then Eryndil had carried Caelen upstairs, and didn't just leave - he was attentive - very attentive - and had to finally be shooed away.

Rildorien was very glad when Caelen had gone home.

And now Caelen's home was Eryndil's home, too, thanks to Hendegil's precipitous invitation to her to come live with them.

It's one thing to comfort a poor, unfortunate orphan girl in need, but another to have this poor, unfortunate orphan girl be of marriageable age and extremely good-looking (Rildorien couldn't deny it) and have her established in your home until spring with an unmarried son who appeared to be showing signs of interest in her ... a man who was very strong but also very tender-hearted and hated to see women cry ... a man whose heart could be played upon and won by a scheming adventuress ... a man who would then be stuck for life with an unsuitable wife when he could have married so much better ...

Well... it was actually Eryndil's home, she conceded to herself... but that only made it worse!

Although Rildorien was a very kind-hearted woman, still, she was a mother - and a mother whose older son's marriage had brought her sorrow, and whose next son seemed unlikely to marry at all, or marry worse. Rildorien had always had a special place in her heart for her youngest son, and she thought that Eryndil should aim a little higher than a young lady who was little more than a stablegirl. She would have to nip this in the bud. Eryndil would thank her for this later ...

Rildorien prepared for battle.

Her eyes quickly scanned the room as she assessed the field - Hendegil was on Caelen's side, and her husband seemed to be leaning that way, too, but she thought she would probably have allies in her other son and daughter. It wasn't going to be pleasant, but she had better start tonight, before things got too entrenched.

As they all sat down to dinner, Caelen gave a little sigh and a pensive smile.

"Penny for your thoughts, Caelen," said Camglas with an encouraging look as he passed the potatoes.

"Oh, nothing much - it's just that it's so good to see a family together like this. It made me think of my family and all the wonderful times we had together. I'm trying to remember those good times instead of remembering the loss."

"The little schemer!" thought Rildorien angrily. "She knows how to play on the hearts of good men! I will NOT let my son be caught by her!"

"That is wise," answered Camglas. "Although both are true, the good things are the more important truth."

Caelen smiled radiantly at Camglas. "Thank you - I like how you put that. I shall always remember it!"

Rildorien looked at the smiling faces of her husband and youngest son and tried to quell her rising panic. She cast about to find some way of putting Caelen in a more negative light while not seeming to do so. She can't have been educated very well - that was it! Although Eryndil's skills in the wild wouldn't have led one to believe that he was a very cultured man, he was, both by inclination and instruction. She cast about for a way to bring up the subject, but Hendegil unexpectedly gave her the opening she needed.

"Oh Father, we'll have to read some poetry after dinner - I was looking through the boxes you brought from home and found some of our favorite books!"

Turning to Caelen, she asked, "Do you like poetry, Caelen?"

Rildorien started to say something, but Gildurien, who disliked Caelen for reasons of her own, beat her to it.

With a light little laugh, Gildurien casually remarked, "Oh, Hendegil, growing up with all those horses, she probably didn't get many chances to read!" Turning to Caelen, she inquired sweetly, "Did your mother teach you, dear?"

Caelen bit her lip and took a deep breath, then she pushed back her chair sharply, stood up, and declaimed in a clear, strong voice:

"There standing lone, while endless fortresses of stone engulfed the thin, clear ringing keen of silver horn on baldric green, his hopeless challenge dauntless cried Fingolfin there: 'Come, open wide, dark king, your ghastly brazen doors! Come forth, whom earth and heaven abhors! Come forth, O monstrous craven lord, and fight with thine own hand and sword, thou wielder of hosts of banded thralls, thou tyrant leaguered with strong walls, thou foe of Gods and elvish race! I wait thee here. Come! Show thy face!' "

She sat down, and then added quietly, "Or would you like it in Sindarin?"

Gildurien, shaken but not beaten, fought back. "But that's not the end of the story, is it? I believe the noble elven king met his doom there - and a rather unpleasant one at that."

"But that's not the end of the story, either," answered Caelen. "It hasn't been written yet. And even if it were the end, still, as your father said, the good things are the greater truth."

There was quiet for a moment, for Gildurien didn't want to speak against her father, and then Caelen's voice came again, softly and musically, through the quiet in the room:

"Though all to ruin fell the world and were dissolved and backward hurled unmade into the old abyss, yet were its making good, for this - the dusk, the dawn, the earth, the sea - that Luthien for a time should be."

Again, there was silence. Rildorien glanced at Eryndil and was alarmed at the expression on his face. He was smitten - absolutely smitten with this girl!

"Well, Hendegil, I don't think we need our books to enjoy poetry tonight, do we?" said Camglas, with a warm smile at Caelen.

"That was beautiful, Caelen," said Eryndil earnestly. "Would you favor us with some more after dinner?"

"A little, if you would like," she answered shyly. "But I would like to hear from everyone else, too."

As they finished dinner and moved into the drawing room, Hendegil pulled Caelen aside and took her hands. "Well done, Caelen! That showed Gildurien! She can be a little snobbish sometimes!"

Caelen gave her a shaky smile. "I hope I didn't make her too angry at me!"

"Oh, don't worry about her!" replied Hendegil. "She always seems to be angry nowdays! But seriously, Caelen, do you know Sindarin?"

"Well, just a little," answered Caelen. "My parents loved to study, and spoke with the elves that would pass by on occasion whenever they could." She leaned in closer and whispered, "But I was devoutly hoping that she wouldn't take me up on my offer, because I don't really remember more than a line or two of that bit in Sindarin!"

Hendegil laughed, and the two girls walked hand-in-hand into the drawing room to join the others.

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Eryndil's house in Cameth Brin. Evening of November 8, 1347.
Written by Valandil
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They filed into the drawing room for their after-dinner conversation; Hendegil and Caelen first, then Eryndil, followed by his parents; Camglas and Rildorien. Glambeth followed tentatively, for her grandmother wished for her to get as much refinement as possible while away from her mother – but Paurblung was excused, for he was only 10. Gildurien and Vilyandur came last of all, reluctant by inclination to join the rest, but bored by the alternative – and still hoping to slip out for the night again a bit later.

The room was decent-sized for its placement in a narrow city-home like this one, but it was a bit cozy for eight. The seating had been modified since the arrival of Eryndil’s family though, so it was comfortable enough. Once they had all taken their places, Camglas turned the conversation to one of his favorite topics – life at Ostinand.

“Well Eryndil,” he began, “your secret has been found out!”

Eryndil waited curiously for his father to continue, while everyone else looked at Camglas expectantly. Even Vilyandur and Gildurien perked up and paid attention.

Camglas, having gotten the attention he wanted, continued with a slight wink, “Yes Eryndil, I’ve heard all about the long visit you had with your girl, Emelbeth.”

At the implication, Eryndil blushed slightly despite himself, but it was Caelen who spoke up, “His girl!” and then to Eryndil, “Who is this Emelbeth?”

But Hendegil came to her brother’s rescue. “Emelbeth,” she began, “ is an elderly widow who lives all alone on what’s left of her family’s holdings. Her house had fallen into disrepair of late, but none had been able to help her get set up for winter. Father had a mind to, but kept getting turned aside from it. But… while he was staying in our home, Eryndil took a few of his men over and did the job up right.” Then Hendegil turned toward her brother and smiled. “He tried to do it on the sly too, only father found him out anyway.”

Caelen seemed reassured, and Camglas added. “We didn’t used to have much of that – a household being left with no claimants. But now I have three or four standing empty, besides Emelbeth’s, which will likely be empty at her passing. Used to be that SOME distant nephew or cousin would take it up. These days, there’s even less of THOSE around.”

“So,” Rildorien asked Eryndil, “did you see anyone else while you were home? In town perhaps?”

Caelen wondered right away if Rildorien was hinting at something or other, but Eryndil met her question right away, “No… not really. Well… I did see one of those odd ‘nephews’ father just mentioned. Father,” and he turned back to Camglas, “I ran into young Inost one afternoon and sat with him for awhile. Really all the time he could spare. He seems to have really got his hands on things now.”

“Yes, indeed!” answered Camglas, beaming.

“Who is Inost?” asked Caelen, not feeling quite so threatened this time around.

“Inost is a young man who grew up right down in Tanoth Brin – second son of a tradesman here, but his great-uncle had a modest household, just 80 acres, but on some choice land. Inost’s grandfather left some years back to make his own way, but the great uncle died without any sons. What was that… Eryndil, wasn’t it just over five years back? When you were home for the summer?” Eryndil nodded.

“Anyway, his brothers wanted to stay in their father’s trade here in town, but Inost thought it would be a good opportunity for him to take the place, so he did. Problem was, he didn’t know the first thing about farming, or running a household – or even how decent folk behave in our part of the kingdom.”

“The auspicious beginning to his arrival,” said Hendegil, who paused and then went on, “was the turning out of his great-aunt, the wife of his great-uncle. But father and Eryndil straightened him out on that one – Eryndil especially, I believe.”

“Well, no matter,” Replied Eryndil. “By the time I left, he was all set up for the winter, but I always wondered whether he’d last through the next.”

“He did son,” said Camglas. “Oh, there was still much to teach him; proper care of his livestock, when to sow and when to harvest, rotating his crops, making what he had last through the long months to come – doing upkeep on his buildings. But the boy has really taken to it, and shows a lot of promise. He has a fine household going there, and is a great asset to my thansh’r.”

“Besides,” Gildurien added, winking toward Hendegil, “he’s about the most appealing eligible young man on your thansh’r, father.”

Rildorien looked a bit scandalized, but Camglas only chuckled and continued. “Sorry girls, not for much longer, if what I hear from the birds and the goats is so. Inost’s old great-aunt – the one he once tried to turn out – has thrown a cousin’s grand-daughter his way," and here he looked significantly Eryndil's way, "Sweet Glimwen, the miller’s daughter! I don’t know if they’ll make it official at Mid-year – or else move it up to Sowing, or even Yule…”

A bit of a scowl crossed Rildorien’s face and she glanced quickly at Eryndil, looking for a reaction.

“Anyway,” Rildorien spoke up, “we need not bore our guest with talk of things back home. Surely she knows so little of such things.”

“Oh, not at all!” exclaimed Caelen. “This is just the sort of talk I grew up with – at my… father’s household.” She looked deep in thought for a moment, and then smiled. “Really, this makes me feel right at home.”

“What sort of household did your father run, Caelen?” asked Camglas.

“We had 200 acres. My great-grandfather had grown the family holdings to 800, but had four sons, and the Thane bade them divide it evenly. My grandfather was the eldest, but he was glad to share with his brothers, keeping them close, instead of having them re-settle in other parts far and wide. But my father had only sisters, so Callon stood to get the whole 200 one day.”

“Well, 200 acres is good, but 800 acres is a lot, and in most parts even Elderman Householders are capped at 400. But what of your great-uncles and their shares? Why were you and Callon not able to find refuge among them?” asked Camglas.

“Over the years, one thing and another happened. Some of those had to be divided further, but one disaster or another overtook all my father’s family. By the time I was a little girl, we alone still held our land of all the relatives, and my grandfather passed early, leaving his land in my father’s hands. Strangers held the rest of it, mostly hillmen, but some Dunedain as well – or some mixed, I don’t know. But then of course, disaster overtook my father as well.”

“Were there tenants?” asked Camglas.

“Six families at first. Later eight – then ten or twelve, I’m not really sure, as my father’s cousin’s lost their holdings – for a few of their tenant families came, asking to live among us.”

“What of your father’s sisters, Caelen?” asked Hendegil, instinctively reaching out with a hand on her shoulder. “How many were there?”

“There were three. The eldest moved to Tanoth Brin, before even we were born. The youngest married a householder somewhere away south – but has kept to herself, and we wouldn’t know where to find her. The middle sister… she still lived with us, and was with my parents when, when…”

Rildorien saw the looks of sympathy universally bestowed upon Caelen, and could hardly help from feeling likewise herself. But, noting where the most sympathetic looks originated, she thought it might be wise to break this train of thinking.

“Where are those servants with our desserts? And, can we have them bring my harp? And Hendegil’s flute? Caelen, do you sing?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Answered Caelen, glad at the thought of what was coming.

Rildorien looked just a bit crestfallen, but just then the servants arrived with a tray of pastries and mugs of a hot, steaming liquid.

“Apple pie and hot apple cider!” exclaimed Hendegil. “My, they sure do serve a lot of apples here in this house!”

Eryndil and Caelen glanced discreetly at one another, and smiled.