Drinks Among Friends (March 3010) - [Ceolmund, Theodred]
Dec 4, 2017 18:13:50 GMT -5
Post by Runa on Dec 4, 2017 18:13:50 GMT -5
Over the past week, the little house on the hill had transformed, despite what could have been inauspicious timing. Between the ferocity of February’s chill and Runa’s own lingering ailments from the ghostly visit she had a few days before her husband's return, the need for Ceolmund and Runa to add a room upon their house to officially take in little Paega as their own could have been thwarted. Runa had been concerned the day Ceolmund mentioned he was going to place order for the wood from the mill; she was handy enough, she supposed, though with just the two of them, and with her feeling yet ghost-sick, she worried it would take far longer than they would like to erect walls, hollow out and pane windows, carve doors, and set flooring.
Still, by the time Ceolmund had returned with a confirmed order of wood and glass, he had already found Cenric and his uncles willing to lend a hand, and that small team had flourished even larger as word spread as to what the captain was doing, renovating in the dead of winter. Soon it seemed as if people were coming from the woodwork to finish building this little room, and Runa had been kept busy keeping the men fed and watered as they worked.
Perhaps it had been Runa who had planted the idea in Ceolmund’s mind about having a hearty ‘thank you’ dinner for the men who had been working alongside them for the past few days. However, if that small thought at the end of the day had been the planting of a seed, Ceolmund had tended that garden until it had produced a rather oversized harvest: it had turned from a quiet meal to a party of sorts.
He had spoken of drinks, and having her invite her friends also. She had let him prattle about it for a day or two before she quietly admitted she had no one to invite. He had, of course, been given full leave to invite whomever he wished, and Runa promised she would prepare a fine meal.
She had pulled together quite a meal, anticipating the men of the Eored her husband had told her were coming to have the same type of hunger that Ceolmund had. There was roast pork, roasted potatoes, homemade applesauce, and a cranberry glaze all sitting ready upon the table while she pulled out the fresh bread rolls. On top of the counter was a cooling apple pie. She hoped all of his friends liked such a meal; it was her first time ever entertaining.
For a moment she glanced out the window, marking the lowering sun to judge her time. She was doing all right. All she needed to do was change her dress, and her work was done. The house still smelled faintly of sage, though the food scents now lingered most strongly throughout the home. She could hear the front door open, and she set the bread pan out to cool and slipped into the sitting room. “Ceol, you’re home,” she sighed. She did not know why she was so nervous about the men coming back for a party. She wanted so desperately for Ceolmund’s friends to like her, to think her a good wife for him; she knew she came across too high strung for many of Edoras, and she feared perhaps this label would follow closely here as well.
She knew they had met her while they worked, but this…this was the type of thing that wives were supposed to be good at. This was going to be bigger than the small meals and drinks she had kept them supplied with during the week.
“I think I’ve got dinner ready,” she said thoughtfully looking at the table, a faint pout upon her lip. “I…I hope your friends like pork.”
Still, by the time Ceolmund had returned with a confirmed order of wood and glass, he had already found Cenric and his uncles willing to lend a hand, and that small team had flourished even larger as word spread as to what the captain was doing, renovating in the dead of winter. Soon it seemed as if people were coming from the woodwork to finish building this little room, and Runa had been kept busy keeping the men fed and watered as they worked.
Perhaps it had been Runa who had planted the idea in Ceolmund’s mind about having a hearty ‘thank you’ dinner for the men who had been working alongside them for the past few days. However, if that small thought at the end of the day had been the planting of a seed, Ceolmund had tended that garden until it had produced a rather oversized harvest: it had turned from a quiet meal to a party of sorts.
He had spoken of drinks, and having her invite her friends also. She had let him prattle about it for a day or two before she quietly admitted she had no one to invite. He had, of course, been given full leave to invite whomever he wished, and Runa promised she would prepare a fine meal.
She had pulled together quite a meal, anticipating the men of the Eored her husband had told her were coming to have the same type of hunger that Ceolmund had. There was roast pork, roasted potatoes, homemade applesauce, and a cranberry glaze all sitting ready upon the table while she pulled out the fresh bread rolls. On top of the counter was a cooling apple pie. She hoped all of his friends liked such a meal; it was her first time ever entertaining.
For a moment she glanced out the window, marking the lowering sun to judge her time. She was doing all right. All she needed to do was change her dress, and her work was done. The house still smelled faintly of sage, though the food scents now lingered most strongly throughout the home. She could hear the front door open, and she set the bread pan out to cool and slipped into the sitting room. “Ceol, you’re home,” she sighed. She did not know why she was so nervous about the men coming back for a party. She wanted so desperately for Ceolmund’s friends to like her, to think her a good wife for him; she knew she came across too high strung for many of Edoras, and she feared perhaps this label would follow closely here as well.
She knew they had met her while they worked, but this…this was the type of thing that wives were supposed to be good at. This was going to be bigger than the small meals and drinks she had kept them supplied with during the week.
“I think I’ve got dinner ready,” she said thoughtfully looking at the table, a faint pout upon her lip. “I…I hope your friends like pork.”