Post by morwen on Jul 6, 2006 9:35:58 GMT -5
((Note: This is going to be quite a long post so bear with me 
Background: Morwen is the bartender of the local tavern so she can make a living for herself and her two children, Eothain and Freda. Urwen is Morwen's best friend and the children's godmother, though she is about fifteen years younger than Morwen. Urwen helps watch the children as Morwen works, as well as her own six week old son Eotherlos, and she believes that her husband Eorlethas is dead from an Orc ambush on the Rohirrim. And now for the story...(Get a mug of hot cocoa if you intend on reading the whole thing)))
Morwen scrubbed the inside of a tankard and rinsed it out, then set it on the counter to dry. The sun had set over three hours ago, and the tavern was packed with customers. Morwen brushed away a stray wisp of her dark red hair and looked over in the corner of the brightly lit tavern.Eothain sat in one of the old, tarnished chairs, staring outside through a dirty window as Freda slept in Urwen's lap, her reddish-blonde curls partially obscuring her six year-old freckled face. Urwen gently stroked her hair with one hand and held her sleeping son Eotherlos with the other.
Morwen filled up three tankards with mead and took them to a table in the middle of the room. She forced a tired smile and yelled over the loud chatting and raucuous laughter, "Half a pint for Mr. Eothuil Barlewing, half a pint for Mr. Eolannor Tinbeagler, and one pint for Mr. Eorlas Werbil." The three men took their tankards and thanked Morwen. "Did you hear the news?" Eorlas asked. "There are rumours flyin' around that Orcs are nearby." His white hair sprouted from underneath his weather-worn leathery hat. "Word is they're comin' here next."
"Send 'em to me!" Eothuil exclaimed. "I'll stick 'em through!" Eothuil had come of age only a month ago, and was anxious to be in battle. His sandy brown hair fell to his shoulders, and his dark green eyes were filled with a red-blooded, boyish excitement. "I'll bet you anything their innards are black; can't wait to see for myself!"
"Eothuil, there is no need for that sort of talk," Morwen scolded. The boy knows nothing of real war... "And Eorlas, rumours are simply rumours, nothing more. No Orcs will set foot in Rohan; they are dull, but not completely senseless." She turned to go back behind the counter, then turned back around and added, "Besides, King Theoden would never allow it."
"Ach, but there's the problem with your theory!" Eolannor spoke up. "Have ye nae heard? The King's gone blinking mad! Sits on his throne and babbles strange incoherencies! Noone knows what the poor man is sayin'! Some say-" The tavern had gone silent; everyone strained their ears to catch Eolannor's dark words-"Some say it's the work of the White Wizard." Gasps rippled through the tavern. The White Wizard, Saruman...was to be feared, but everyone had thought he was on their side, until recently. Dark murmurs had been passing throughout Rohan already, that he was chopping down the forests and making allies with the Orcs...Morwen cast a glance at the corner again; Eothain still stared out the window as though he hadn't heard a word (or was indifferent toward the whole matter), and Freda slept peacefully on. Eolannor slipped a silver piece in Morwen's palm. "Give the children a stick of peppermint every once in a while, eh?"
"Thank you," she whispered, putting the piece in her apron. Then the door to the tavern burst open, and a bloodied man stumbled inside, his sword dangling uselessly from his limp, scorched hand and his shield dragging the ground. "Miss me?" he chuckled deliriously, then collapsed face-first on the floor. Everyone stared in shock for a moment, but Morwen and Urwen were the first to react. "Eorlethas!" Urwen shook Freda awake and handed her baby to the dazed girl, then ran to the man's side. Morwen soaked a rag in warm water and began dabbing the blood off the wounded man while she shouted out orders. "Eolannor! You live close by, right? Go get some fresh bandages, and something we can use a stretcher! Eothuil, go into the forest, down by the brook, and fetch me some aloe! Eorlas, take Freda, Eothain, and Eotherlos to my home and watch them for a bit. Everyone else, out!"
The tavern emptied in a heartbeat as Morwen and Urwen tended to Eorlethas. It was dawn by the time Eothuil and Eolannor carried him to Urwen's home. Morwen steadied her as they walked; Urwen had been ill on and off since the baby had been born, and she was now bone tired. She stumbled once, and Morwen carried her the rest of the way. "He's alive," Urwen mumbled dreamily. "Eorlethas is alive..."
((I will add more later; I did not think it fair to try to fit it all in one post
))
Background: Morwen is the bartender of the local tavern so she can make a living for herself and her two children, Eothain and Freda. Urwen is Morwen's best friend and the children's godmother, though she is about fifteen years younger than Morwen. Urwen helps watch the children as Morwen works, as well as her own six week old son Eotherlos, and she believes that her husband Eorlethas is dead from an Orc ambush on the Rohirrim. And now for the story...(Get a mug of hot cocoa if you intend on reading the whole thing)))
Morwen scrubbed the inside of a tankard and rinsed it out, then set it on the counter to dry. The sun had set over three hours ago, and the tavern was packed with customers. Morwen brushed away a stray wisp of her dark red hair and looked over in the corner of the brightly lit tavern.Eothain sat in one of the old, tarnished chairs, staring outside through a dirty window as Freda slept in Urwen's lap, her reddish-blonde curls partially obscuring her six year-old freckled face. Urwen gently stroked her hair with one hand and held her sleeping son Eotherlos with the other.
Morwen filled up three tankards with mead and took them to a table in the middle of the room. She forced a tired smile and yelled over the loud chatting and raucuous laughter, "Half a pint for Mr. Eothuil Barlewing, half a pint for Mr. Eolannor Tinbeagler, and one pint for Mr. Eorlas Werbil." The three men took their tankards and thanked Morwen. "Did you hear the news?" Eorlas asked. "There are rumours flyin' around that Orcs are nearby." His white hair sprouted from underneath his weather-worn leathery hat. "Word is they're comin' here next."
"Send 'em to me!" Eothuil exclaimed. "I'll stick 'em through!" Eothuil had come of age only a month ago, and was anxious to be in battle. His sandy brown hair fell to his shoulders, and his dark green eyes were filled with a red-blooded, boyish excitement. "I'll bet you anything their innards are black; can't wait to see for myself!"
"Eothuil, there is no need for that sort of talk," Morwen scolded. The boy knows nothing of real war... "And Eorlas, rumours are simply rumours, nothing more. No Orcs will set foot in Rohan; they are dull, but not completely senseless." She turned to go back behind the counter, then turned back around and added, "Besides, King Theoden would never allow it."
"Ach, but there's the problem with your theory!" Eolannor spoke up. "Have ye nae heard? The King's gone blinking mad! Sits on his throne and babbles strange incoherencies! Noone knows what the poor man is sayin'! Some say-" The tavern had gone silent; everyone strained their ears to catch Eolannor's dark words-"Some say it's the work of the White Wizard." Gasps rippled through the tavern. The White Wizard, Saruman...was to be feared, but everyone had thought he was on their side, until recently. Dark murmurs had been passing throughout Rohan already, that he was chopping down the forests and making allies with the Orcs...Morwen cast a glance at the corner again; Eothain still stared out the window as though he hadn't heard a word (or was indifferent toward the whole matter), and Freda slept peacefully on. Eolannor slipped a silver piece in Morwen's palm. "Give the children a stick of peppermint every once in a while, eh?"
"Thank you," she whispered, putting the piece in her apron. Then the door to the tavern burst open, and a bloodied man stumbled inside, his sword dangling uselessly from his limp, scorched hand and his shield dragging the ground. "Miss me?" he chuckled deliriously, then collapsed face-first on the floor. Everyone stared in shock for a moment, but Morwen and Urwen were the first to react. "Eorlethas!" Urwen shook Freda awake and handed her baby to the dazed girl, then ran to the man's side. Morwen soaked a rag in warm water and began dabbing the blood off the wounded man while she shouted out orders. "Eolannor! You live close by, right? Go get some fresh bandages, and something we can use a stretcher! Eothuil, go into the forest, down by the brook, and fetch me some aloe! Eorlas, take Freda, Eothain, and Eotherlos to my home and watch them for a bit. Everyone else, out!"
The tavern emptied in a heartbeat as Morwen and Urwen tended to Eorlethas. It was dawn by the time Eothuil and Eolannor carried him to Urwen's home. Morwen steadied her as they walked; Urwen had been ill on and off since the baby had been born, and she was now bone tired. She stumbled once, and Morwen carried her the rest of the way. "He's alive," Urwen mumbled dreamily. "Eorlethas is alive..."
((I will add more later; I did not think it fair to try to fit it all in one post
))