Breakfast with Theoden

[+TIME] Middle-earth time is:

Daytime on Mersday, Day 23 of December.

Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.

Real time is: 08:07:02 MDT on Sun Jan 18 2009.

The Marshal Square

Light Winter snow is falling.

This is a crossroad where the Queen\'s Road staggers up from the main gates of the city, and continues directly up to the crown of the hill. The King\'s Road continues to circle the hill, having another entire circuit to go before it reaches either the top, or the bottom. A few shops and other buildings line the square, most notably among them the Sleeping Stallion Inn.

[Theoden(#15851)]

The tall man approaches the Inn, though he slows as he sees the poorly-dressed one has stopped, and he tilts his head as if curious himself. Then he strides forward, until he is within an arm\'s-length of the other, and there he stops, his mailed companions a couple of paces behind him. Bright blue eyes peer out of the hood, though much of the rest of the man\'s face is hidden by a thick woollen muffler. He stands for a moment, as if finding this man as curious as he himself is found. He nods then, and motions towards the door. \"Let us go in, for the day is cold.\"

Dunsten - Set.

[Heahstan(#31883)]

The smaller of the two men near the inn man looks the other over, head to toe, right to left, his expression now definitely one more of curiosity than uncertainty. Still, he does not speak, choosing instead to pull his cloak more tightly around him as his gaze then shifts to the two men coming up on the heels of the tall one. He looks them over with the same scrutiny as the taller one, and with a slow, deliberate nod he moves forward and pulls open the door.

A wave of heat bursts out from within, and the sound of the Inn\'s relatively small number of patrons, likely due to the hour, is now heard at full volume. Motioning with his other hand, he speaks at least, \"Of course.\"

The Sleeping Stallion Inn

The common room of the Sleeping Stallion Inn is a crowded bustling place.

The rohirrim flock to this inn in droves, coming here to savor the fine

ales brewed by the barkeep Vhran, and also to sup on the tantalizing fare

he and his family provide. The tables are arranged hapazardly around the

room, with no real pattern emerging. The walls are decorated with many fine

tapestries and paintings, mostly dealing with life in the Mark, and the

horses which the rohirrim worship above all else.

Raucous laughter might sound a little harsh in the morning air, more suited as it is to the nighttime and ale than to morning fare. Yet, raucous laughter it is that greets those walking into the common room now, as a few men, seated at scattered tables, are apparently joking with one of the serving maids. The woman has turned a bright red and now scurries quickly out of the room.

At a table near the hearth sits a youngish-looking man with a plate of bread and cheese before him. His hood is pushed back and he, too, joins in the laughter, though it is only with a smile on his face, and not with the loud guffaws of the others here.

[Theoden(#15851)]

The tall man nods, and he enters through the open door, kicking snow off of his boots, then stepping aside to allow the others to enter. Fur-lined mittens are removed, and a hat, wool and fur as well. Then the muffler, and one of his companions takes these, while the other takes the tall man\'s cloak. they hang them on hooks before removing their own outer garb. The tall man is dressed richly, his tunic a warm russet-brown, thick velvet and the sleeves of thick fine-combed green wool, and the under-tunic pure white. His white hair is unadorned but long, braided, though his hair is tousled from the winter outerwear. His eyes narrow as he watches the serving-maid flee, and he shakes his head. \"Go learn what they have said to her,\" he says, and there is no warmth in his voice now. Then he turns, his gaze softening a little, as if to see if his chance-companion is warmer.

[Heahstan(#31883)]

The smaller man does indeed follow the other three in, toying with the removal of his own cloak as he moves-- all too eager to enjoy the warmth of the room. The doors falls shut behind him, and having successfully freed himself from the tattered articles\' grip, he quicly hangs it near the door as well. It is then that he looks back to the taller man, who is no longer hidden beneath his cloak, and blinks rather suddenly.

Again he regards the taller man for a few moments, and again does he not speak. Instead, it is with a series of slow and deliberate steps that he offers the man a tight smile, a nod, and moves to work his way around toward the center of the room. Finding an empty seat, not far from where the younger man sits, Heahstan relieves his feet from the task of supporting his weight, his attention again looking to the man he met upon the street-- the episode with the young woman all but lost to him.

The laughter in the room is cut off abruptly, and an awkward silence reigns for several moments. \"My lord...we were just speaking of her upcoming marriage,\" one of the older men finally ventures as an explanation.

At the table by the hearth, though, the young man there reddens at these words. His knife, which he was using to cut a piece of the cheese before him, is set down while still in the cheese, and he eyes the newly entered men, especially the clothes of the richly dressed lord. His own fingers wander to the rough cut of the tunic he wears.

[Theoden(#15851)]

\"Odd, then, that she should run off so,\" murmurs the tall man, shaking his head. He brushes snowy hair-wisps away from his face, then sighs. \"I do not know the whole of the matter, but she ran as if pursued by a horde of Dunlending louts. It is, at best, unwise to upset a serving-maid in an inn. You do not, after all, know what they might do to your food or drink.\" At this, one of the men in now-visible mail gives an embarrassed laugh. The noble smiles himself, then goes to seat himself near his companion from the street. He motions to another server, but remains silent.

[Heahstan(#31883)]

At the explanation for the maidens departure, Heahstan\'s lips twist and his eyes lift upward as if providing more thought to the story than initially required. However, at the noble\'s joke, even he manages a smile that might almost be a laugh-- if his lips were to actually part. He looks briefly then to the patrons around him, taking a few more moments than before to better survey the room. He looks first to the man who offered the explanation, then to another, then to the younger man with the cheese, and finally back to the noble who seats himself nearby. Still, words are not found flowing forth from his mouth, and he seems quite content to watch his surroundings quietly. Fiddling with a small pouch at his belt, he grasps hold of a couple coins and waits patiently for his order to be taken.

\"Aye, my lord. I ..uh...\" the older man now stutters in response, his own face going red. \"But not louts chasing her at all, my lord. Just good natured teasing.\" A quick sideways glance is given to his companions, and then very suddenly the man seems inordinately interested in the drink that is set before him.

There\'s a cough, from the young man seated alone, and though his ears are reddened, he speaks up. \"In truth, sir, they were speaking of her wedding night. And...\" Dunsten leaves off there, a dry cough interrupting his words. He glances once to the lordly man, then quickly down at the cheese in front of him.

Two other serving women, both older, have now hurried in to take orders for food and drink, though neither speaks to confirm nor deny this tale.

[Theoden(#15851)]

\"I see. Shall we discuss the fumblings, then, of each of you, rutting like yearlings the first time? In front of everyone else that all might hear?\" The tall man glances up, and he nods his head to one of the serving-women. \"Two loaves of bread and your best cheese, four meat pies, your roasted chicken, pickled greens, and some dried fruit. Oh, mead for me, two ales, and whatever this man wishes as well.\" He leans back, falling silent, stretching out his legs and enjoying the warmth himself.

[Heahstan(#31883)]

Again Heahstan cracks a smile at the words of the noble, though still he is silent. Exhaling deeply, he seems to relax a bit, tilting his head from side to side and effectively stretching it by doing so. At the taller man\'s order, he quirks a brow then looks to the server who seems to be expecting something of a response from him. Clearing his throat, he nods, \"Mead... mead is fine.\"

Turning back toward the finely dressed man, another nod is delivered-- this one with more confidence than that to the woman, and he offers, \"Thank you...\". Though, while the intent for more words may have been there, they cease to follow, and instead his glance darts off to rest upon the young man who most recently attempted to rectify the situation with the fleeing woman.

\"Of course, my lord.\" The serving woman dips a quick curtsey and hurries out, while the second serving woman hurries to tidy the inn more and to add more wood to the fire.

\"My lord!\" the younger man speaks up again, apparently taking the noble\'s comments to include himself. \"I would not say such things to a woman, no matter that she is a serving maid in a tavern or no!\" So vehement is he in these comments that he starts to rise from his chair in his protest, the wood scraping loudly across the floor as he does so. \"It is an insult to my honor and to the lady\'s!\"

[Theoden(#15851)]

\"It is an insult you take upon yourself, then, lad, for I said no such thing of you. The first step to wisdom is cleaning the wax from your ears. Now sit yourself and your easily-bruised honor down.\" The noble shakes his head, then glances at the man with him. \"What is your name and trade, then? You seem... ill-prepared for the winter...\"

[Heahstan(#31883)]

At the outburst from the cheese eating young man, Heahstan\'s eyes widen a bit and he leans back as to avoid any confrontation that may grow from this. When the noble speaks, however, he seems content that the situation is resolved, and once more settles in his seat. Listening to the question that is posed, and the observation made, he folds his hands gently upon the tabletop.

\"I am called Heahstan, son of Heahmund... I am a Rider in the West-Mark,\" he answers, his eyes watching the man\'s reaction with interest, \"The cloak is... it has... sentimental value, is all. I do okay, in the cold.\"

Said ears redden again, this time along with the young man\'s face as he rapidly re-takes his seat. Sullenly, he pokes at the cheese before him with the small knife, then pushes it away from in distaste. At the other tables, the remaining men do much to hide a sudden snort of laughter at this show of \'honor\' from the youth.

\"West-Mark,\" Dunsten then blurts out with the impatience of youth, \"my brother...\" He coughs and stops, deciding, likely, against interrupting the richly-clad man who posed the question to Heahstan.

Bread, rounds of cheese, meat pies, a platter of roasted chicken surrounded by picked greens, a tray of dried fruits, and last but not least, mead and ales are now carried out by the serving woman, two younger boys and the young serving girl who had earlier fled the room, the blush now gone from her cheeks--though she carefully avoids eye contact with her tormenters. These foods are set before the lordly man, the servers bowing or curtseying as they do so.

[Theoden(#15851)]

\"In such cold, though, sentiment can be deadly,\" answers the noble, shaking his head. \"Though well enough I can understand it. Still, it does not do for a wigend to be lacking. Here...\" He reaches into a belt-pouch and pulls from it a wooden token, not much larger than a coin, carven with a running horse upon both sides. \"Present that at the barracks and they will give you a winter cloak you may wear over that one.\" He turns his head towards the servers, offering words of thanks. To the serving-girl, he reaches a hand, motioning her closer as the second mail-clad man finally returns. \"You shall not be troubled today, nor, I think, for many a day.\" This is said loud enough for the louts to hear. \"Else I shall hear of it.\" Then he looks at the man at the other table, and he shakes his head. \"Oh, do not sulk. What of your brother?\"

[Heahstan(#31883)]

Taking the wooden coin, Heahstan nods as he places it inside the pouch at his belt. His voice is heard once more, and this time his words come more easily, \"Thank you... again. For the food and drink as well.\"

Picking up the mead that has arrived, he takes a slow drink and looks back to the noble, \"Perhaps I should know already... as your presence does indeed seem to carry an impact. However, I must admit I do not know... so might I inquire as to who you are, as well?\"

Satisfied with his mead, and waiting a reply from the noble, he turns one more time toward the younger man with such fragile pride, \"Your brother... perhaps I know him, if he rides in the West-Mark?\"

\"M..my lord,\" the young woman stutters nervously. \"Thank you. Though...\" she glances nervously toward the back room from which the servers have emerged, \"my mother scolds me that after a lifetime of growing up and working in my father\'s tavern here, I should not let such remarks trouble me at all... \" Despite having approached the lord at the man\'s beckoning, she looks for all the world as if all she wants to do is turn and run into th eback again.

Reticence at speech has also appeared to overtake the young man, too. \"I...he...West-Mark,\" Dunsten stumbles his answer, looking from lord to Heahstan as he speaks. \"Caldwine, Forstwine\'s son is his name, and he leads our local patrol.\" The youth finds his tongue. To the lordly man, \"I had not meant to sulk, sir.\"

[Theoden(#15851)]

\"Nay. You have every right to be upset, despite what your mother says.\" The noble shakes his head, then passes a few coins to the girl as well. \"Go on with you, and may your wedding be blessed.\" He looks at Caldwine\'s brother, and he shakes his head. \"You were, whether you meant it or not. You ought to take care, lad, for it reflects on your father....\" Then he glances at Heahstan, and a soft laugh issues from his lips, somewhat surprised. \"Theoden, son of Thengel,\" he answers, and his eyes twinkle almost merrily.

[Heahstan(#31883)]

Content with his mead, Heahstan has now taken to eating some of the food that is before him, starting with the roast chicken. He listens to the young man\'s words regarding his brother, though replies not to them, rather seeming to enjoy his food perhaps more than he should. It is when the noble answers his question that his chewing ceases, right in mid-chew, and his eyes grow wider than they have all morning. Swallowing abruptly, and quickly washing it down with some mead and a quick cough, he looks to Theoden and inclines his head.

\"Apologies, my King... I have never laid eyes upon you before, and did not recongize you based on what I have been told.\"

\"My lord...thank you...thank you...\" The girl curtsies several times in a row, then rushes out of the common room before the lord\'s identity is revealed, a blush tainting her cheeks once more.

\"My father\'s name?!\" Dunsten starts to answer, clearly upset at learning the implications of this morning\'s discussion. \"Surely I must be allowed to make my own mark and mistakes without it impacting on my good father\'s name all the time? When the offense..\"

The words, though, are said before the lord\'s name is revealed. Abruptly, Dunsten\'s protest ceases and the youth jumps to his feet with a loud scraping once more of his chair. \"Sire! My apologies. I...\" He struggles, further words failing him.

[Theoden(#15851)]

\"If it concerned me, I would have spoken earlier, son of Heahmund,\" replies the king, nodding his head. \"There is no need to apologize. Though yours,\" he turns to Caldwine\'s brother, \"I will consider. One meant wholeheartedly, and unneeded, and the other, needed, but seeming more of fear or embarrassment...\" Theoden shakes his head. \"Our character is sometimes best shown to strangers. I have seen it again and again. Heastan, you have my thanks, and I want to see you with that new cloak upon the training field. Hands shaking with shivering do not so well clasp a spear.\" He smiles briefly. \"You, Caldwine\'s brother, what is your name? And yes, you may make your own deeds, but you are ever part of your family\'s deeds as well. We are not alone and separate. At any rate, sit down and calm yourself. You behave intemperately.\"

[Heahstan(#31883)]

Grabbing at the pouch which now contains the wooden coin intended for his new cloak, the rider nods before silently turning to finish off his mead. Once he is done, he moves to stand, stretching quickly as he does so, before looking to the man thus far identified only as Caldwine\'s brother. He offers the young man no words, but seems rather intent on commiting his image to memory. With a nod of self-assurance, he turns back to Theoden.

\"again, I thank you for your generosity, Theoden King. I will do as you as you say... immediately, in fact.\"

And with that, he offers the King a modest bow, before making his way to the door and grabbing his cloak-- nodding to the younger man as he passes. Then, with a gust of cold air from beyond, the door is open and shut, and Heahstan is gone.

\"Dunsten, sire,\" the youth answers, slumping back into his seat with shame now coloring his face. A bare nod is given in reply to the departing Heahstan, but neither recognition nor an attempt to commit the man\'s face to memory shows in the youth\'s eyes. instead, he continues, chagrined. \"I had not wished to meet my King thusly, with such an impression. My father and brother will be angry, sire.\"

[Theoden(#15851)]

\"Dunsten son of--?\" Theoden prompts. \"Did you wish to meet anyone thus, acting like an intemperate, sulky youth? Or... just me?\" He sighs, then nods to the departing Heahstan. Then, back to Dunsten he turns, and he pushes back his tousled hair once again. First impressions, lad, can never be taken back, not perceived by commoner or by king. And you never know who might be there. Remember these things.\" Then he reaches for another piece of chicken, and settles back to continue his meal.

\"I am Dunsten son of Forstwine, sire, the last of his sons and the last of his five children,\" the young man answers. There is pride in his voice at the pronouncement of his own name, though his eyes also hold humility as he speaks to the King. \"And I should like the chance, sire, to prove myself as otherwise than a sulking youth in your eyes, sire, if I might be granted such.\" He sighs quietly, the food and drink before him no longer holding any appeal. \"Yet now that we have met on such terms, I know not how. For your words hold truth, and ever will you think of me as such, I fear.\"

[Theoden(#15851)]

\"You may have that chance. As to how, I will leave you to think on it. For this is not something you can learn by telling.\" Theoden wipes his hands clean, then pushes back his chair. \"But I shall leave you to it I must needs leave you. Good day, son of Forstwine.\" So saying, he rises, glances briefly about the room, then heads over towards where the cloaks are hung.

\"Sire.\" Dunsten springs to his feet as the King stands, but that one word is all the youth now says.