Forgiven

Chapter 08

~~~…~~~

Not for the first time, Eadlyn stood in the middle of the huge room, designated for the head of the family. When her father-in-law passed, she declined moving in, preferring to stay in Beadorouf's room. It was large enough, really two rooms with a sleeping area and sitting area, similar to Aefre's. There was even a small ante-chamber for the bath and chamber pot. Truth was, she turned the sitting area into Glædscipe's room, never bothering to move him into the nursery or a guest room when he got older. She wanted him close, wanted him safe.

She also missed Beadorouf. For the longest time, his pillow held his scent and she slept in his old tunics. In time as the smell faded, her grief dulled, but she still missed him, missed the sense of peace he gave her. Just as she felt she was settling into widowhood, her nightmare sprang back to life in the form of her brother.

She naturally gravitated to the strongest man in the garrison, encouraged by Tatae. However when he misread her intentions, his true colors came out and she retreated to the room, venturing only into her garden, the cemetery and allowing Tatae and Cuichelm to take completely over the running of the hall.

Not that she had much to do with the running of it in the first place. She was left to her own devices, her flowers and herbs, sewing. There were days she never entered the hall itself, taking her meals in her rooms, the garden.

When Aefre returned with her entire staff, Cuichelm convinced her the hall couldn't sustain both households and that whoever Lufian's cousin was, well, he couldn't be that bad, now could he? Aefre just needed to get over herself and allow the man to take over. If she wanted to keep the hall so badly, she could just marry him and be done with it. Who knows? Perhaps this Gifre fellow would turn out to be a good sort.

Of course, Eadlyn knew better, but she was too weak, too scared to go against Cuichelm. So, the fight that ensued, when Eadlyn suggested she return was one that still made Eadlyn cringe. Small wonder Aefre hated her. Or did.

Another long overdue apology…

It seemed to Eadlyn her entire life was bent towards apologizing.

She shook her head. This room needed a woman's touch. Too long, it belonged to Beadorouf and Aefre's father. It exuded sheer masculinity, any woman's touch gone long before Eadlyn ever arrived. Her old room, Beadorouf's room, was currently entirely Glædscipe's. He thought he was a full-grown man now, the way he marched about! His own room, his own pony, riding…

Éothain had taken to calling the boy 'Skippy' as if that meant anything, but her son preened like a tail-bird and was almost unlivable, if he wasn't so amusing about it. He was already talking about swords and battles…

That was another thing that bothered Eadlyn. Éothain informed her that morning at breakfast he was resuming her Shield Maiden training and she was to present herself that afternoon after lunch to the practice field. Oh and please dress appropriately in leggings and an old tunic.

Oh Béma! Learning in Edoras, where no one knew her was bad. Here, in front of Sabert… especially in front of that hateful, hateful man… Æþryt…

Eadlyn was suddenly sick to her stomach.

~~~…~~~

As she had tried since the day Aefre left, Eadlyn attempted to establish a morning routine in the kitchen to discuss the day's chores and especially decide on a menu for the evening meal. And for not the first time, Tatae brushed her off, telling her, it was unnecessary, the meal had been planned and the work in the home, meted out to various maids.

"The tapestries need to be taken out and beaten."

"Do not worry about it."

"I do worry about it. I have only been asking for a week."

Tatae would plaster on that slimy, insincere smile. "The maids are busy. They will get to it when they can."

"What are they busy doing?" Eadlyn looked around the kitchen, as if to inspect. "There is still filth in the corners, smoke around the fireplaces-"

"My lady," Tatae began between gritted teeth, "There is quite a list of things to be done and they will get to it. Now, if you do not mind, I would like to get started on the vegetables and the lamb-"

"NO!" Eadlyn came up off her stool, startling even Eabæ, who sat across from her at the little table, eating warmed, buttered bread. "I do not care what you fix for dinner, it will not be lamb!"

"The men like lamb, Lady Eadlyn."

"Your men like lamb, Tatae!" Eadlyn hissed angrily. "I am tired of it!"

Tatae's smirk was cruel. "Perhaps you should miss a meal, then." She raked Eadlyn's filling out form with derision. "It certainly won't hurt. You are putting on a few pounds."

Eabæ's eyes grew as large as Eadlyn's at the offensive remark.

"You forget your place, Tatae!"

The housekeeper and cook looked at the young woman coolly, with no respect. Finally…

"Obviously, the lady is having a mood today. Perhaps, you should retire to your room for the day. I'll send you a calming tea."

Tatae's 'calming teas' tasted horrid and made Eadlyn sleepy. She glared at the woman. "No. I have things to do today." Touching Eabæ gently, she guided Éothain's sister outside and into her personal garden. She did not miss Tatae's snide smirk as she stormed from the kitchen.

Eabæ had a gentle smile on her face, waiting until she heard the iron gate squeal shut and Eadlyn guided her to a bench. She had a basket of yarn with her and soon her nimble fingers were twirling, rolling the threads. "Are we alone?"

Eadlyn had pulled her garden tools from her own gardening belt. Kneeling over her flowerbeds, she began to pull weeds. "Yes."

"Might I be frank?"

"Please."

"Bicce! What a bitch!" She looked up, sightless eyes bright with mischief. "I've never said that word before." She nodded once. "Mother would wash my mouth out with soap and Éothain would gasp if they heard me. Yes. Bicce. That's what she is." Eabæ seemed completely satisfied with herself, leaving Eadlyn with her mouth agape. "Say it with me. Bicce."

"Bicce." It was whispered.

"Ah! You can do better than that!" Eabæ admonished her. "With feeling. Bicce!"

"Bicce!"

"Biccebiccebitch!"

"Biccebiccebitch!"

The two repeated it over and over… finally singing it as if they were children.

"Bitch Bitch Bicce Bitch Biccebicce Bitch Bitch…"

So caught up in their silly song, they didn't realize their voices were carrying over the wall…

…into the kitchen….

And overheard by the captain of the garrison, who was looking for his sister, to unknot a series of long thin straps of leather…

"Eabæ!"

Both women stopped, looking up shocked. "Ah, brother mine!" Eabæ didn't seem the least bit contrite. "Do you need something unknotted? Bring it here."

"Your language-" he handed her the straps.

"Is not as bad as Lady Aefre's." She took the straps and began to feel out the knot. "Besides, you should remember, I've heard worse in the garrison and from you." She held up the three straps, now lying neatly, unknotted.

"Which is why I made sure you were in the house and not the garrison!" He noticed Eadlyn's blush. He ran his fingers through his hair before reaching for the leather straps. "Who are you calling a bitch?"

"Tatae!" Eabæ answered before Eadlyn could respond. "You won't believe this! She told Eadlyn she was getting fat and she needed to skip dinner!"

Éothain hissed. "Lady Eadlyn, is this true?" If anything, Eadlyn bent further over the weeds, yanking so hard, Éothain could see the whites of her knuckles. "Eadlyn?"

"I hate lamb." Handfuls of clumped greenery were being tossed to the side, angrily. "Rather than cook something else, it was suggested I skip a meal as I'm starting to put on some weight!"

From nowhere, a masculine palm reached down, asking for her own hand. Reluctantly, she placed hers in his and allowed him to pull her up.

"Look at me."

She raised her eyes.

"When I first saw you on the training fields in Edoras, you looked frail enough to blow away." The hand she placed in his was now covered with the other, the straps of leather lazily slung over his shoulder. "Afterwards, I knew you were fragile. It's not healthy to be that thin. If you're going to fight, you will need to build up some muscle. Let the bitch," Eabæ grinned big at the utterance of the word, which slid so beautifully from her brother's mouth, "cook the lamb. I'll cook up something else tonight and we will have dinner here in your garden."

"That would be very nice." Eadlyn blushed again. Why did this Rider make her feel so warm?

He squeezed her hand before turning it loose. "Oh, and by the way, you need to change clothes and meet me on the field shortly." Eadlyn grimaced at that. "Oh don't! It will be fun!" He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "I'm not the evil taskmaster that Aefre is!"

Eadlyn snorted. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

"What worries you?"

Eadlyn was now looking up at the sky. "That I'll be the only one on the field and that certain Riders will make fun of me."

"Bicce!"

"Eabæ! Inappropriate."

"Bastards!"

Éothain growled, dropping his head and shaking it. "Our mother is rolling in her grave. I am a complete failure as an older brother!" Attempting to regain control of himself and praying his sister didn't belt out something new and vile, he looked back up at Eadlyn. "Don't worry about it or them. Also, I have a hunch that Aefre will be back this evening or tomorrow." This made Eadlyn smile with relief. "She'll be bringing," this was aimed at Eabæ, "Ceorl, who is going to be my second in command until the garrison at your family estate will be open in two summers."

"Ceorl?" Eabæ's voice went of several octaves. "Will he be bringing Ser-"

"Yesssss…. And that will be a whole new Ogetarts game!"

"Who?" Eadlyn was now becoming worried. "Another Rider and who?"

Éothain was now turning to leave. "Ceorl. You'll like Ceorl. And just so you know, you could be heard singing into the kitchen. Tatae was not happy." With this, the Captain exited the garden.

"She could hear us?"

"Who cares?"

The two women shouted together, "BICCE!"

~~~…~~~

Eadlyn stepped into the practice yard, eyes wide in wonder. There were eleven women, ranging from late teens to well into mid-years in the yard, dressed in tunics and leggings and old boots. Most were wives of the relocated Riders, the others, teenage daughters. All had practice swords and Éothain was running between them, lining them up. He grinned when he saw Eadlyn and motioned her over.

"See! I told you not to worry!" He then leaned over to whisper in her ear. "You're not alone! There is strength in numbers!"

At that point, Eadlyn fell in severe puppy-like with the Captain.

For over an hour, the group parried and thrust, went through the drills, the routines. And as time progressed, the women paired up, thumping away, amid much of their own laughter. And as Eadlyn feared, Riders climbed the fence, sitting on the top bars. Those with wives and daughters were very supportive, shouting encouragement, along with Éothain who checked and rechecked grips, gave advice on attack and thrust. Eadlyn turned too fast at one point and nearly put his eye out.

"HEY!" Éothain jumped back, hands up. "I'm not the enemy… yet." He gave her a mock scowl. "Don't drop your guard! Your opponent-" he gestured to Eadlyn's sparring partner, a middle-aged woman with about fifty pounds more weight on her, "will catch you off guard." Immediately, Eadlyn turned back to her cohort in arms and whacking again was heard on the field.

"Have you seen anything so ridiculous?" Æþryt was among the many Riders on the fence and he was most unhappy at the proceedings in the field.

Sabert was perched next to him and he nodded in agreement. "Wait until they think they're good. At that point, I'll have a go with Eadlyn. Put that little bitch in her place."

Æþryt snorted rudely. "She called your aunt some pretty ugly names this morning." Apparently, it went over the Rider's head that his friend just called the Lady of the Manor the same rude name.

"Maybe," Sabert spat on the ground, "I won't wait until she thinks she's good. Maybe, I'll teach her a lesson early. Why are they learning to fight anyway?"

"They don't need to fight. They just need a man to take care of things."

"Who do you think protected them when we were in Gondor?" The voice was raspy, unfamiliar and both Æþryt and Sabert turned to see a dark haired Rider in a captain's cloak standing behind the fence. A very short, strangely dressed … person… was standing next to him, eyeing the proceedings with disdain. Not far behind, they could see Lady Aefre and several other retainers dismounting and tying their horses to an outpost.

"Who are you?" Sabert was appallingly snide. "And what-" he pointed to the strangely dressed person who was now eyeing the Rider evilly, "is that?"

"Ceorl." The response was equally snide. "Éothain's second in command." Both Æþryt and Sabert glanced at each other from the sides of their eyes at that pronouncement. "As for her?" He nodded to the exotically dressed female next to him. "This is my… this is Serei."

"Fek my balls!" Æþryt exclaimed loudly and pointing. "That's a Haradrim!"

"Svinja!" Serei had black hair, not long, like the Rohirrim. It was bluntly cut and shaggy. Her tunic and leggings were brightly colored; her skin was olive and swarthy. Her eyes were such a dark brown, they looked black, more so accentuated by the black encircling kohl. She turned to Aefre and with a jerk of her head, ducked between the slats of the fence and strode onto the field. Aefre didn't acknowledge the two riders on the fence and followed the young Haradrim, who was being warmly welcomed by the captain of the garrison.

"I don't think she wishes to fek your balls," Ceorl spat drolly. He climbed the fence and sat on the top with the rest of the riders.

"Serei!" Éothain spread his arms in greeting, prepared for when the woman launched herself into them, kissing him right on the mouth. Eadlyn felt a stab of angry jealousy and turned her back, attempting to renew her efforts with her partner. "Ladies, this is Serei!" The women smiled cautiously at the outrageously dressed woman. "Serei isn't from here," Serei obviously understood some Rohirrim, for she rolled her eyes at that, "but what she does with a staff or a bow is amazing. And if this tiny thing can do amazing things," he pointed at Eadlyn, "so can you!" He turned to Serei. "Staff? Show?"

Serei rolled her eyes again and motioned for the wanna-be Shield Madams to exchange their practice swords for the staffs leaning up against a stack of hay.

Serei and Aefre were now taking Éothain's place as instructor and the women were paired up, striking each other. Éothain retired to the fence next to Ceorl, both men shouting encouragement to the women, much to Sabert and Æþryt's verbalized disgust.

"Serei's going to hurt that idiot," Ceorl growled menacingly. "Not sure I'm willing to stop her."

"I hope you don't," Éothain mumbled back from between gritted teeth. Ceorl nodded in acknowledgement.

The women were now beginning to tire with the constant exertion. Eadlyn's hair hung in a limp ponytail, tendrils escaped and sweaty, hanging in her face. Her thrusts were becoming weaker and weaker and she figured at this point, she was pretty useless on the battlefield. At one point, Serei smacked her between the shoulder blades, knocking her off balance.

"Thrust! Fight!" Her accent and cadence of the Rohirrim language sounded odd and foreign.

"I'm tired."

Serei snarled. "Maca djevojka!" She moved off, yelling and motioning to Aefre.

Eadlyn's fighting partner sidled up next to her. "Do you think she'll teach us some of her swear words? I'd like to put my husband in his place a time or two." Bregusuid was well known to her friends, as was her easy-going husband. Eadlyn shook her head. Soon, the two more experienced women were battling each other in earnest; a well performed show of skilled battle between the two. They were hurling good-natured insults at each other in Haradrim.

"Ceorl, do me a favor?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't let Serei near Eabæ." Ceorl raised an eyebrow and looked sideways at his friend. "She's picking up enough… bad language as it is."

A rare smile lit across the craggy Rohirrim's features and he chuckled deep in his throat.

Soon, the exhibition was over and the women began to put up their mock weapons, congratulating each other on a job well done, along with friendships and new alliances being cemented. Their joyous camaraderie was interrupted by a nauseating, snide voice.

"A couple of years, girls," Æþryt yelled out into the practice field, "and you might have the gonads to wrestle with the new pages!" He elbowed Sabert, both men not realizing that they were the only ones laughing. So caught up in their bad joke, neither one realized the little Haradrim was racing across the field, with her staff pointed directly at Æþryt.

She caught him off guard, the end of the staff jabbing painfully into his midsection. He lost his breath and the momentum of her vault knocked him off the fence and flat on his back in the mud. Still gasping for breath, he watched in horror as she sprung over the fence, catching Sabert under the chin with her staff, lifting him and knocking that one in the mud as well, before clearing the top of the railing. She kicked him once, before stabbing her foot in his groin, the end of her staff up under his chin, lifting it, painfully.

"Glup čovjek! Idući put, Ja htijenje blokirati tvoj lopta i izraditi te pjevati poput mala djevojčica!"

Æþryt's eyes were wide in terror, the loss of his man-parts clearly at the front of his thoughts. "Ceorl?" he squeaked in a voice a good octave above his normal range. "Aren't you going to do anything?"

Ceorl shook his head. "No," he drawled slowly. "I think she's doing just fine on her own." The stand-off continued for a moment, before Ceorl finally called Serei over to him. "C'mon Serei. We need to get our things to our quarters."

"You sleep with her?" Sabert hissed. He scooted back on all fours like a drunken spider when Serei riveted her attention on him.

"I let him," she spat. As quickly as she had come over the fence, she backed off, her foot removing itself from Æþryt's crotch and leaving him wanting to check to make sure his dangly parts were still there. She marched off to her horse and began to take her saddlebags from the beast. Ceorl came down from the fence and leaned over the still shaking and gasping Rohirrim.

"By the way, she called you a pig and said if you ever insult anyone training on the field again, she'd cut your balls off and make you sing like a little girl." He leaned down closer, Æþryt easily able to not only make out the harshness of the planes of his face, but clearly see the thin, white scar across the Rider's throat. Somewhere, someone had unsuccessfully tried to garrote the man, an injury that most likely caused his raspy voice. "I've seen her do it. It's not pretty." With that, he strode off to unsaddle his own horse and made his way behind the Haradrim woman.

From nowhere, a hand thrust itself down into Æþryt's face. Éothain helped him up, the grin on his face not so friendly. "You attitude towards women has been duly noted. Change it. Now." He nodded once and clapped the man on the shoulder, before turning to Sabert. "I don't know what history you and Eadlyn have but it's time to leave it in the past." He also clapped Sabert on the shoulder. "I'm so glad we had this talk." He then ambled off behind Ceorl, whistling.

~~~…~~~

Every muscle in Eadlyn's body ached. Truly it was as bad as it was the time Aefre had beaten her around the field in Edoras, but this time, it was different. It was a good tired, not a defeated tired. She really wanted a bath and her sewing by the fireplace, but the growling of her stomach reminded her that Éothain had promised her dinner in her garden. For a brief moment, she wondered if she could talk him into serving her in the tub again. She also wondered if his kisses were as sweet as his…

There was a knock at the door. Grabbing her robe, she ran to the entry, hoping hoping that Éothain had read her thoughts and was bringing up dinner. Too many nights since that night in Edoras, she dreamed of his fingers in her hair, his breath on her neck. She slung the door open to see Serei in clean garments standing at the door.

The two women stood there, staring at each other. Finally, Serei nodded forcefully. "In?" Eadlyn stepped back, allowing entrance to the woman. Serei looked behind her and shut the door.

"I like you." It was said with much conviction.

"Thank… thank you."

I think…

Eadlyn realized that Serei barely came up to her shoulder. "You fight-"

"Well… yes, but not well."

"Like pussy girl." It was spat, derisively. It wasn't an insult, simply matter of fact.

"Oh.' Eadlyn felt her face and neck heat up. "I'm trying, really."

Serei smiled evilly, something that sent chills down Eadlyn's spine. She stepped close, invading Eadlyn's personal space and thrust her index finger against Eadlyn's sternum. "I teach you to cheat!"

tbc

bicce - bitch

Svinja – Swine

Maca djevojka! Pussy girl

Glup čovjek! Idući put, Ja htijenje blokirati tvoj lopta i izraditi te pjevati poput mala djevojčica - - - stupid man! Next time, I will cut off your balls and make you sing like a little girl

A/N - As usual, my 'Rohirrim' is derived from Olde English. Serei was supposed to speak a Middle East language, but the font wouldn't work so she speaks Croatian.

And for those who live near Justlikejane I hope her temper-tantrum throwing because I've not been able to update hasn't disturbed anyone or that she hasn't chewed up her tongue. hehehe. (Thank you all for reading. I am truly humbled)