The Yuletide Ball that Transcends Time and Space (Open)
Dec 3, 2017 22:26:48 GMT -5
Post by Ceolmund on Dec 3, 2017 22:26:48 GMT -5
“Runa,” Ceolmund protested as he watched his wife free herself of her mail. “Please--” But it was already off in her hands, and her blue eyes were gleaming. He felt somewhat disarmed by them as she ordered a drink. He still, however, was unnerved by Khamul as he watched the wraith across the room, wondering what troubles he would lend himself to now. Ceolmund's own mail was not about to be removed.
The women had seen his wave and followed from across the room. He felt quite taller than usual in the midst of all the ladies. The foreigner seemed to have a pleasant demeanour, though he could not rightly trust her… though something in his memory stirred upon the look of her. Stories his Grandmum had told him of the far reaches to the south. He thought for a moment of the black shell-bead his grandmother had acquired from the traders of the Haradwaith. Surely, he could not mention it to the woman, it would seem absurd, but the topic seemed to not be necessary at the moment for horses came up in conversation. He relaxed. Horses were easy to speak of… at least for him. For his wife, not so much, and he saw her face change as she began to speak of Tait.
Ceolmund frowned as Runa spoke so harshly of his mare. “Tait has served me well through many battles,” he added. “The finest horse I have ever had.” In fact the only horse Ceolmund had ever had, though she was getting up in years and he was already beginning his search for a younger mount, that the black war horse could take a bit of time to rest in her older age and graze upon this plains.
Ceolmund looked to Wyn as she spoke to him of the grog. “Not sure I wish to acquire any more of the taste,” he mumbled, his eyes moving warily back to the table, and then to the table of orcs. Nida, however answered before him. Fools… well they were that it was certain, but need no blade? He eyed the woman. Had she encountered orcs before? She did not hold the marks of them over her skin as Ceolmund did himself. Fighting them with a word? Why, the things could barely even speak themselves, and Ceolmund was not wordy enough to try that trick on them even if they did. He would keep his sword.
The crowd seemed to be growing ever thicker, and he saw now Adanedhel coming back from wherever he had vanished to join them. He seemed slightly… jubilant? Ceolmund had never seen him so happy, but then he mentioned his mother. Mother? Was there another elf about the room? He looked about though saw no older women who could be Adanedhel's family, and frowned. Hopefully she was not hiding herself with any more of that elvish magic. He looked back to Adan confusedly.
And what was more… the elf was… staring at his fingers in a strange manner. Was he drunk? Yes, it seemed he was, and Wyn confirmed the fact. Something soon drew his gaze through the rivers of people once more.
“Theo!” the man replied as he heard his name called through the crowd. Though he still spoke with his proper title when among the ranks of the Eored, he had ceased all formalities with the Prince many years ago when outside the realm of their work.
Ceolmund gave Theodred a look. While he did not truly trust Adanedhel yet, he'd spoken with the elf many times now, and he did not exactly distrust him either… at least not completely. He still distrusted elvish sorcery, and had made it clear to Adanedhel that whatever magic he practiced was not welcome in his home. He had not yet told Theodred he had allowed the elf to stay under his own roof! “The same elf,” he answered shortly before Runa slurred in her defense of him.
He eyed Runa. She trusted that elf so deeply; he could not fathom how, but he did enjoy her dedication to her patients, and nothing foul had come since the night the wraiths had been vanquished by the strange man who had arrived with them. His wife knew his distrust, and he'd voiced it to her at home, though he was not about to contradict her words here in front of others. He touched Runa's arm to reassure her.
“I think I need a drink....”
Ceolmund nodded at that, and took a long drink of his own mead now, feeling the warmth roll down his throat. The sweetness of it was pleasing, and it was chilled finely with the snows from the peaks of Mindoluin.
“You have to try this one, Theo.” Ceolmund held perhaps the calmest demeanor he had held throughout the whole night so far, his face straight and his eyes slightly amused, as he handed one of the black flasks of Mordorian grog the Prince's way. “A foreign delicacy.”
The man downed the rest of his mug of mead and swallowed hard. He did not want to have anything in his mouth when Theodred took a hefty drink of that orc concoction.
Khamûl
Runa
Wyn
Amira
ADANEDHEL
Theodred