I crawl back in shame after making you wait so long. I was away from my pc most of the holidays, and I've been applying to unis, getting AS results and all sorts, so I have been busy…

Anyway, enough excuses, here is chapter 14, using characters and places I don't own (well actually that adds up to about three in this chapter; Edoras, Eowyn and Arda, but never mind.)

When they returned to the kitchen ready to help with the dinner Seorwyn collared them, a sour expression on her face.

"My lady has asked me that you two be left out of the serving line today." She sniffed haughtily ensuring they knew just how much extra work they would be given tomorrow to make up. "She told me you were to be given an evening off and an earlier meal."

Jake didn't think they had lemons in Rohan, but he was willing to believe Seorwyn could supply enough acid to make up for them. She pointed to one of the boards where two thick wedges of bread spread with thick grey dripping rested beside a hunk of cheese. Jake groaned inwardly; dripping was his most repulsive discovery since he had arrived. It was the cold fat from meat, and he was assured it tasted better when it was fried with the bread, but all too often they treated it like some kind of butter and he loathed it.

His disgust must have shown in his face because Seorwyn gave another of her caustic sniffs. "You'll eat it and lump it. I've no time to cater for two little lordlings such as you. Now get along with you!"

They gathered up their supper and left as quickly as they could; Seorwyn might know they were free to go but the other workers were likely to buttonhole them for some reason or other. They headed down the hill as the dusk showed signs of arriving, Brasfain chattering happily at the thought of being of some use to lady Éowyn.

"Do you think I should get her a cawl?"

"A what?"

"You know." Brasfain blushed, "A cawl; a love spoon."

"Pardon me?" Jake couldn't believe his ears. "A love spoon?"

"Right, forget it." he was red to the very tips of his ears, staring resolutely at the ground as some of the refugees on their way up to the hall chuckled.

"No, really; what is a love spoon?"

"It's a spoon, a nicely decorated one that a man buys for a woman he favours."

Jake's mind flashed to the spoons he had seen in the market place before. "Oh yeah, I've seen some of those on sale. I didn't know they were special."

"Well, it's supposed to be a betrothal gift, but you get some that are less, well, less serious." The scarlet flush was disappearing now, as the number of refugees around them grew smaller. "They're more like a favour for a lady."

"And you'd like to give one to the Lady Éowyn?" his friend nodded and Jake didn't have the heart to suggest she probably didn't feel at all romantically towards his freckled twelve year old companion. "Well, we could go and pick one now; we might overhear something in the market place anyway."

Brasfain looked doubtful at that, as dusk really was setting in now and the market place would probably be deserted but Jake could see the idea of buying Éowyn a gift overriding his logic and turned to slip down a narrow alleyway he was pretty sure led to the main square.

When they reached there most of the stalls had indeed closed up completely but there were lucky; the woman with the cawls seemed to have taken root, so firmly set was she in the place he had last seen her. They went over to the stall and Jake nudged the reluctant Brasfain forward. The old crone grinned a toothless smile up at him, though the sight of the mottled purple gums was offset by a kindly twinkle in her eye.

"Come to buy something for your young lady, soldier?" Brasfain squirmed under her grandmotherly scrutiny, seeming to have lost his tongue. The woman tried again; "Which one would you like?"

Jake was strongly reminded of himself as a five year old boy choosing a cake from a bakery for his mother's birthday present, grubby penny clenched in fist, unable to do anything but point. He only hoped Brasfain's gift would receive as warm a welcome as his sticky offering had prompted from his mother. The prickle in his throat from the sudden recollection of that long forgotten birthday celebration came out of nowhere, as did the unexpected tears, which he hastily tried to blink away.

Not quickly enough though; the woman had seen and she transferred her sales patter from the mute to what seemed to her to be the easier catch with the speed of a striking snake.

"You have someone special to think of, I can tell. I'll bet she'd like to see a bit of that affection, hey? No better way than one of my cawls my lovely; go on- choose your favourite."

Jake's thoughts were still with his mother and he hardly heard the saleswoman, except for the invitation to choose one of the undeniably well-crafted spoons. Before he knew it he had pointed at one with the image of a horse rearing for the handle and instead of a small ball of wood caught in it as most had, there was a pretty globe created by two rings of wood interlocking over each other carved with some of the strange runes he occasionally saw engraved over doorways and on weaponry up at the hall. He didn't hear any of the woman's comments on his choice, so filled were his thoughts with his family. He took the wrapped parcel of soft leather numbly and it was not until Brasfain shook him hard that he realised his friend had paid for both of their purchases and they were in a quite different part of the city; down by the gate where he had first heard the plotters.

Brasfain was asking him if the inn was the one where Gertwyr stayed, and when Jake told him it was he pulled him towards the lit doorway.

"It's too early for them to come yet; barely dark. We can have a bite to eat here first; I don't feel like going back to mam's tonight, not when all the women will be in the house commiserating with her about Da."

Jake was surprised at his normally kind friends attitude towards the tragedy in his family, and Brasfain must have caught his startled face because he explained casually, "There's no place for a man in a house of mourning in Rohan; they have to be strong for their womenfolk, and it's the mothers and sisters who grieve. I'd only get thrown out, and anyway, my mam'll probably be relieved he's on his way home. She hate's any mention of war." He shook his head, as though this outlook was utterly incomprehensible to him, and started to knock the dust from his shoes off on the small step.

Before they could step onto the reeds laid over the floor of the public bar and eating area Jake was almost knocked right out again by Gerthwig, who had flung his arms round his knees, attempting to tackle him to the ground. The wind was completely knocked out of him by the impact and he lay, gasping like a fish out of water, with stabbing pains in his lungs as he tried to suck some more oxygen in. With a wrathful exclamation Brasfain tugged the little boy up by his collar and set him, none too gently, back on to the reeds, opening his mouth to chastise the human cannonball.

"What in Arda did you think you were doing!"

Jake's shock brought him too his feet, though he still clutched his heaving stomach. Brasfain's voice had come out as a deep chested, irate matron's war cry, and it had come from across the room. Mistress Leesa was striding over to the trio and both the older boys blanched in sympathy as she glowered down at Gerthwig.

"I told you! I told you not to come into the bar after the lamps are lit and I also told you not to run inside." Her finger was wagging like a wind up toy and her cheeks were slightly flushed. "Now you've knocked your sister's nice friend down. What'll your mother say?" She set to dusting Jakes back with an angry vigour.

"Really mistress, it's quite all right; he didn't mean any harm by it." his apology was more aligned to stopping the grooming than letting Gerthwig off, but even so the little boy's upturned face was a welcome reward. Taking the chance, he ruffled Gerthwig's hair, which wiped the beaming smile off and replaced it with a frown, much to Jake's private amusement.

"Well, that's as maybe, but I shall hope you two will stay for your supper with us, as an apology on behalf of the h'istablishment?" Not gibing them a chance to protest her offer they followed her through to the kitchen behind the public room and the appetising aroma of new bread and a thick carroty soup immediately welcomed them.

As the sounds of even Brasfain's embarrassingly loud slurping died away, and Gertwyr and Mistress Leesa began to clear the bowls from the table to be replaced with dishes of potatoes and a vegetable pie Jake found himself again the centre of attention at the table, with Gertwyr's mother asking politely whether he'd spent a happy afternoon after they saw him last. When he caught his friend's meaningful glance he introduced Brasfain properly, as he'd not had the chance before, and Mistress Leesa and her husband tutted under their breath.

"It's a terrible thing for your father to lose his faculties like that!" her husband nodded in agreement.

"We heard this afternoon about the accident; this war is really getting nasty by the sound of it. How many more of my customers will be harmed by it; that's what I want to know."

"Now Asweld, that's not the way to speak of it! You know our warriors are fighting for us!"

"Well I just wish they would fight a little nearer; soldiers may be good for business but not if they're all the way over the other side of the country!" he got up from the table and strode off into a back room, leaving mistress Leesa rolling her eyes at Gertwyr's mother.

This was the first time he had heard anyone really speak out against the war before, and Jake could feel Brasfain shifting uncomfortably on the bench next to him. As courteously as possible they excused themselves from the now rather chilled atmosphere at the table, pleading urgent duties up at the hall. After telling Jake to be sure to return they were released with a slice of pie for each of them to eat on their way back, and they stood to take their leave. Before they could exit the room however mistress Leesa spoke up.

"You walk your leofman to the door, Gertwyr." the girl blushed bright red, and almost spilled the pitcher of water she was carrying to the table.

"Mistress Leesa!"

"Off you go dear!" Jake was surprised to see the two older women exchange almost predatory smiles behind her back as she hurried out of the kitchen door in front of them, but was tugged out of the room by Brasfain too quickly to follow up his suspicions.

After a still flushed Gertwyr had waved them off from the door and disappeared back inside Jake turned to find Brasfain, eyebrows almost disappearing into his hair, staring up at him with an expression of mingled horror and disbelief.

What?"

"Didn't you hear what she called you?"

"She mumbles a lot; I didn't think she said anything."

"No; not Gertwyr! Mistress Leesa! She called you Gertwyr's Leofman!"

"Oh I thought she meant you and me with that- what does it mean?"

Brasfain ran his fingers through his permanently tousled hair. "It mean's 'sweetheart'. Mistress Leesa; the most notorious matchmaker in Edoras has decided you would make the perfect husband for her houseguest. She'll have you married off within the week!"

I hope to get the next update sooner, but then again I said that last time so?

Yeah, review please :)