Midsummer Festi-failed (June 2994) - [Ceolmund]
Feb 1, 2018 14:56:17 GMT -5
Post by Runa on Feb 1, 2018 14:56:17 GMT -5
June twenty-fourth had come at an easy enough pace; Runa had worried for a while her lip would still be discolored from the incident at the training grounds, though the swelling had disappeared, and what slight discoloration was left Hildred had skillfully and artistically hid beneath a lipstick. It was nothing to be ashamed of, she had been told; her mother said it was a badge of courage for standing up for Ceolmund, though the young girl was unsure that made the bruise easier to look at. Gisillia had been very insistent that not a thing be out of place. Runa knew Gisli was very certain the young boy she had taken a fancy to was going to be there and looking for her, though who that was Runa had not been able to gather.
Gisli, though, was probably right: boys probably did much prefer beautiful girls, and Runa had tried her best to make herself beautiful too. Gisillia said there would be dancing, and she did love to dance, and the thought of a boy thinking she was beautiful and wanting to dance…well, that thought had not sit poorly. For a moment, the thought had even crossed her mind that it was a shame Ceolmund was not going to be there, though she could not understand where it had come from.
Donned in her green gown, and with her hair braided up in a crown for her head, the girl felt like a princess, and Runa giggled as she looked at her reflection. “Thank you, Mama!” She sang, timbre bright and eyes sparkling. Runa did not have the patience to learn such pretty braids, though Hildred’s steady hands had made her hair behave in ways that the young girl could never have accomplished.
“You’re quite welcome, little sparrow,” Hildred hummed. For a moment, her blue eyes lingered upon her bright and shining daughter, her lip curling further into a smile. She, too, was adorned in a fine dress in the same green color that her daughter wore. “Now, come. Papa and Bear are already down at the grounds—we best not keep them waiting.”
“All right! Just one more thing,” Runa chirped and she grabbed the small glass perfume bottle from her side table. Her father had bought her rose water for Yule last December, and Runa was eager to wear it. A quick touch of it to her skin made the fragrant, sweet scent rise and coil into her nostrils, and Runa’s already bright countenance seemed to take on even a greater glow. “Let’s go, Mama!”
She grabbed her mother’s hand, and in a peal of giggles, they bounded from the front door and down to the festival grounds.
--
There was already a lot of people milling about, and the crowds made Runa excited. It reminded her, faintly, of Beltane, though the midsummer festival had far more to do than dance around the bonfires. The bakers and toymakers of the city had little stalls set up along the outside of the city walls, and various games were around as well. There was the sheep and ram contest, where Runa never could seem to choose a favorite, the archery contest, the sparring ring, the music and the dancing. Somewhere amongst the crowd, Beorhtric and her father were already looking at the makeshift horse market, though Runa doubted she would ever venture back to that particular section of the festival.
“Where to first?” Hildred asked, looking down to Runa with a smile.
“Um…the women’s archery contest is now, isn’t it? Can we go see?” Runa recalled Ceolmund saying his sister and grandmother were going to be competing, and the girl very much wanted to go watch them shoot. Her mother’s face, though, took on an expression that Runa did not recognize; she almost looked sad.
“If that’s what you want, little sparrow,” the woman answered. “I think it’s back this way!” A blithe look once more overtook her mother’s features, though Runa looked up curiously and eyed her as she guided her through the crowds.
She saw the archers before she saw the targets, so far was the distance between them. One was about her age, a young and fair girl with hair that looked almost silver in its lightness. She was speaking with a rather handsome boy who was leaning over the fence, and looking on them made Runa’s heart flutter faintly in delight. She did not know their names, but it was very clear this was the type of relationship Gisli wanted for herself.
The next person she noticed was an older, striking woman with a powerful jawline and keen eye. She had not met Ceolmund’s grandmother, though she imagined such a figure was indeed the woman herself. The girl talking to her looked a lot like Ceolmund’s mother, though younger. Runa gasped, though. In all the times Ceolmund had mentioned his sister, not once had he mentioned he was soon going to be an uncle. Indeed, there was no mistaking the resemblance to the woman who had come in screaming at her that very first day she had known him, and who she saw now on occasion throughout the city. In much the same way her large and round belly was unmistakably soon going to produce a baby.
Dagny looked their way, and Hildred seemed to catch it. She smiled. “Dagny,” she greeted. “Sunni—you look wonderful.”
Gisli, though, was probably right: boys probably did much prefer beautiful girls, and Runa had tried her best to make herself beautiful too. Gisillia said there would be dancing, and she did love to dance, and the thought of a boy thinking she was beautiful and wanting to dance…well, that thought had not sit poorly. For a moment, the thought had even crossed her mind that it was a shame Ceolmund was not going to be there, though she could not understand where it had come from.
Donned in her green gown, and with her hair braided up in a crown for her head, the girl felt like a princess, and Runa giggled as she looked at her reflection. “Thank you, Mama!” She sang, timbre bright and eyes sparkling. Runa did not have the patience to learn such pretty braids, though Hildred’s steady hands had made her hair behave in ways that the young girl could never have accomplished.
“You’re quite welcome, little sparrow,” Hildred hummed. For a moment, her blue eyes lingered upon her bright and shining daughter, her lip curling further into a smile. She, too, was adorned in a fine dress in the same green color that her daughter wore. “Now, come. Papa and Bear are already down at the grounds—we best not keep them waiting.”
“All right! Just one more thing,” Runa chirped and she grabbed the small glass perfume bottle from her side table. Her father had bought her rose water for Yule last December, and Runa was eager to wear it. A quick touch of it to her skin made the fragrant, sweet scent rise and coil into her nostrils, and Runa’s already bright countenance seemed to take on even a greater glow. “Let’s go, Mama!”
She grabbed her mother’s hand, and in a peal of giggles, they bounded from the front door and down to the festival grounds.
--
There was already a lot of people milling about, and the crowds made Runa excited. It reminded her, faintly, of Beltane, though the midsummer festival had far more to do than dance around the bonfires. The bakers and toymakers of the city had little stalls set up along the outside of the city walls, and various games were around as well. There was the sheep and ram contest, where Runa never could seem to choose a favorite, the archery contest, the sparring ring, the music and the dancing. Somewhere amongst the crowd, Beorhtric and her father were already looking at the makeshift horse market, though Runa doubted she would ever venture back to that particular section of the festival.
“Where to first?” Hildred asked, looking down to Runa with a smile.
“Um…the women’s archery contest is now, isn’t it? Can we go see?” Runa recalled Ceolmund saying his sister and grandmother were going to be competing, and the girl very much wanted to go watch them shoot. Her mother’s face, though, took on an expression that Runa did not recognize; she almost looked sad.
“If that’s what you want, little sparrow,” the woman answered. “I think it’s back this way!” A blithe look once more overtook her mother’s features, though Runa looked up curiously and eyed her as she guided her through the crowds.
She saw the archers before she saw the targets, so far was the distance between them. One was about her age, a young and fair girl with hair that looked almost silver in its lightness. She was speaking with a rather handsome boy who was leaning over the fence, and looking on them made Runa’s heart flutter faintly in delight. She did not know their names, but it was very clear this was the type of relationship Gisli wanted for herself.
The next person she noticed was an older, striking woman with a powerful jawline and keen eye. She had not met Ceolmund’s grandmother, though she imagined such a figure was indeed the woman herself. The girl talking to her looked a lot like Ceolmund’s mother, though younger. Runa gasped, though. In all the times Ceolmund had mentioned his sister, not once had he mentioned he was soon going to be an uncle. Indeed, there was no mistaking the resemblance to the woman who had come in screaming at her that very first day she had known him, and who she saw now on occasion throughout the city. In much the same way her large and round belly was unmistakably soon going to produce a baby.
Dagny looked their way, and Hildred seemed to catch it. She smiled. “Dagny,” she greeted. “Sunni—you look wonderful.”