The Favor (September 2995) - [Ceolmund, Runa]
Feb 5, 2018 14:58:57 GMT -5
Post by Beorhtric on Feb 5, 2018 14:58:57 GMT -5
“Look, Bear!”
Runa’s bright voice yet again came through the quiet of the house, and Beorhtric sighed, dropping the book to his lap in annoyance. It had taken him all morning to near the end of the chapter, and if his sister kept running about the house speaking to him at all moments, he was never going to finish it at all. “Runi, I’m busy,” he said plainly, his voice stiff and heavy.
Hildred was at the hall, and Amalric at his shop in the market. It had not been his intent to align his day off from training with his sister’s, and it was proving to be more exhausting than toting his sword, shield, and other equipment through the training ring for lessons.
“I finished a hat for you!” Runa said excitedly. She held out a grey, woolen cap. The stitching was improving for her, though Bear could see well enough her nålbinding tension was still not quite right.
Still, as excited as his sister was, Beorhtric sighed. “Runi, I’m trying to read.”
“I know, I won’t bother you! I just wanted to give you the hat. It can keep your ears warm on the training grounds tomorrow.” Runa’s face was glowing, her blue eyes sparkling and full of energy Beorhtric suddenly wished was a little tamer. Runa had always been the brightest, most vibrant streak of light in the household, though as she aged she had not begun to mellow into a proper lady as Beorhtric had hoped.
He had thought having her about the house would be better than letting her run off to the training grounds with those weapons of hers. She was thirteen summers now, and very well should have grown out of her fascination with combat and training for softer things by now. He knew his parents’ should not have encouraged it as they had; Runa looked sad when she thought nobody was paying attention, and he worried for her. He knew she had sobered some in spirit simply from the line of work she now sank herself into as often as she could—but that was not all of it.
Many of Edoras were not fond of his sister, he knew. The girl next door had gone a year without so much as looking at Runa, and though his sister had not mentioned a thing to anyone concerning it, he had noticed it, their mother had noticed it, and their father had noticed it.
After a few months of noticing Runa desiring to pick up extra hours at work, and was only speaking of Ceolmund and Bear in reference to friends, Hildred had finally asked Solweig if she had noticed the difference at her home with Gisillia as well. That had been how she had learned that some sort of falling out had happened the day of the Midsummer Festival, though the other woman did not quite know all the details. She knew it was at least partially to do with a boy, and Gisillia had come home saying that Runa had ruined everything because she did not know to act like a real girl.
Beorhtric had listened to his mother recount the story to him while Runa had been quietly sitting in the other room working on cleaning her longknife. Immediately he had gone to the market and purchased some things he thought would help: needles, thread, wool yarn, and wooden nåls as well. Runa would learn to be softer, he knew, should she be encouraged to do so. And, perhaps, he could salvage the friendship he knew Runa missed.
While Runa had certainly taken to embroidery and to nålbinding both, her love for the weapons training her uncles offered was not dampened, and now she still seemed to only have he and Ceolmund—and was making him hats on top of everything else.
“It is not going to be that cool tomorrow,” Beorhtric said, dropping his blue eyes back to the words upon the page he had been ripped from for what felt like the thousandth time that morning.
“Well, when it gets cooler, then,” Runa shrugged. She put the grey wool cap on the sofa’s arm by Bear’s elbow, and lingered near, hands fidgety and feet rocking.
Beorhtric let her linger for a few moments before he decided she was not going to leave on her own. He sighed, shutting the book and standing, setting it upon the side table. “You know, Ceol is off today—down in the stables,” he said lowly. “He would love to see you.”
“I know…” Runa admitted with a shrug, a slight warmth coming to her cheeks. Truthfully, she wanted to see him, too. She liked seeing his smile, and liked the feeling of the flutters she felt sometimes when he looked at her. She had seen him the day before when she had brought lunch once more to the training grounds, and he mentioned that he would be working with his grandmother’s horse. “But I can’t go there,” she finished quietly.
“I bet if I tell him you want to see him, he will leave the stables. Maybe you can take him to the market and pick up those things Mother was going to get after work,” Bear hummed, though his voice did not match his stoic expression.
“Really? You think so?” Runa asked. She knew Ceolmund loved horses; they seemed to almost be his favorite thing in Arda. To think that he would be willing to leave the stables he adored as solace to see her…
Her cheek darkened a little, something Beorhtric did not fail to notice. Thoughtfully he eyed her. His Runi was growing up. Perhaps her girlish crushes were no longer a thing of the distant future as he hoped. Still, the young man moved to the doorway and opened the door. “If you do not trust me, come with me and see for yourself,” he decided to say. And with that, Runa followed him out the door.
--
Runa had kept pace with him well enough as he led her through the bright, crisp streets toward the stables. The autumn afternoon was pleasant, neither needing a heavy cloak nor too many layers. Still, it was easier to breathe, and the wind from the plain was playful and dancing.
As soon as they rounded the corner of the street and the stables came into view, Runa began to falter in footing. Beorhtric looked over toward her thoughtfully, and then glanced to the stable entry. “Wait back here, Runi,” he hummed to her. The girl offered no protest and fell still, eyes trailing after Beorhtric as he made his way inside.
The stable was relatively busy; the crisp air meant many wished to go out for rides upon the plain, and the day was indeed beautiful. “Ceol?” He called into the long hall, his voice gentle though carrying enough. He began to move toward the direction he knew Ceol’s grandmother kept her mare boarded, calling his name once more.
“I have a favor to ask you,” he said, his voice wry with jest, lips slightly curled.
Runa’s bright voice yet again came through the quiet of the house, and Beorhtric sighed, dropping the book to his lap in annoyance. It had taken him all morning to near the end of the chapter, and if his sister kept running about the house speaking to him at all moments, he was never going to finish it at all. “Runi, I’m busy,” he said plainly, his voice stiff and heavy.
Hildred was at the hall, and Amalric at his shop in the market. It had not been his intent to align his day off from training with his sister’s, and it was proving to be more exhausting than toting his sword, shield, and other equipment through the training ring for lessons.
“I finished a hat for you!” Runa said excitedly. She held out a grey, woolen cap. The stitching was improving for her, though Bear could see well enough her nålbinding tension was still not quite right.
Still, as excited as his sister was, Beorhtric sighed. “Runi, I’m trying to read.”
“I know, I won’t bother you! I just wanted to give you the hat. It can keep your ears warm on the training grounds tomorrow.” Runa’s face was glowing, her blue eyes sparkling and full of energy Beorhtric suddenly wished was a little tamer. Runa had always been the brightest, most vibrant streak of light in the household, though as she aged she had not begun to mellow into a proper lady as Beorhtric had hoped.
He had thought having her about the house would be better than letting her run off to the training grounds with those weapons of hers. She was thirteen summers now, and very well should have grown out of her fascination with combat and training for softer things by now. He knew his parents’ should not have encouraged it as they had; Runa looked sad when she thought nobody was paying attention, and he worried for her. He knew she had sobered some in spirit simply from the line of work she now sank herself into as often as she could—but that was not all of it.
Many of Edoras were not fond of his sister, he knew. The girl next door had gone a year without so much as looking at Runa, and though his sister had not mentioned a thing to anyone concerning it, he had noticed it, their mother had noticed it, and their father had noticed it.
After a few months of noticing Runa desiring to pick up extra hours at work, and was only speaking of Ceolmund and Bear in reference to friends, Hildred had finally asked Solweig if she had noticed the difference at her home with Gisillia as well. That had been how she had learned that some sort of falling out had happened the day of the Midsummer Festival, though the other woman did not quite know all the details. She knew it was at least partially to do with a boy, and Gisillia had come home saying that Runa had ruined everything because she did not know to act like a real girl.
Beorhtric had listened to his mother recount the story to him while Runa had been quietly sitting in the other room working on cleaning her longknife. Immediately he had gone to the market and purchased some things he thought would help: needles, thread, wool yarn, and wooden nåls as well. Runa would learn to be softer, he knew, should she be encouraged to do so. And, perhaps, he could salvage the friendship he knew Runa missed.
While Runa had certainly taken to embroidery and to nålbinding both, her love for the weapons training her uncles offered was not dampened, and now she still seemed to only have he and Ceolmund—and was making him hats on top of everything else.
“It is not going to be that cool tomorrow,” Beorhtric said, dropping his blue eyes back to the words upon the page he had been ripped from for what felt like the thousandth time that morning.
“Well, when it gets cooler, then,” Runa shrugged. She put the grey wool cap on the sofa’s arm by Bear’s elbow, and lingered near, hands fidgety and feet rocking.
Beorhtric let her linger for a few moments before he decided she was not going to leave on her own. He sighed, shutting the book and standing, setting it upon the side table. “You know, Ceol is off today—down in the stables,” he said lowly. “He would love to see you.”
“I know…” Runa admitted with a shrug, a slight warmth coming to her cheeks. Truthfully, she wanted to see him, too. She liked seeing his smile, and liked the feeling of the flutters she felt sometimes when he looked at her. She had seen him the day before when she had brought lunch once more to the training grounds, and he mentioned that he would be working with his grandmother’s horse. “But I can’t go there,” she finished quietly.
“I bet if I tell him you want to see him, he will leave the stables. Maybe you can take him to the market and pick up those things Mother was going to get after work,” Bear hummed, though his voice did not match his stoic expression.
“Really? You think so?” Runa asked. She knew Ceolmund loved horses; they seemed to almost be his favorite thing in Arda. To think that he would be willing to leave the stables he adored as solace to see her…
Her cheek darkened a little, something Beorhtric did not fail to notice. Thoughtfully he eyed her. His Runi was growing up. Perhaps her girlish crushes were no longer a thing of the distant future as he hoped. Still, the young man moved to the doorway and opened the door. “If you do not trust me, come with me and see for yourself,” he decided to say. And with that, Runa followed him out the door.
--
Runa had kept pace with him well enough as he led her through the bright, crisp streets toward the stables. The autumn afternoon was pleasant, neither needing a heavy cloak nor too many layers. Still, it was easier to breathe, and the wind from the plain was playful and dancing.
As soon as they rounded the corner of the street and the stables came into view, Runa began to falter in footing. Beorhtric looked over toward her thoughtfully, and then glanced to the stable entry. “Wait back here, Runi,” he hummed to her. The girl offered no protest and fell still, eyes trailing after Beorhtric as he made his way inside.
The stable was relatively busy; the crisp air meant many wished to go out for rides upon the plain, and the day was indeed beautiful. “Ceol?” He called into the long hall, his voice gentle though carrying enough. He began to move toward the direction he knew Ceol’s grandmother kept her mare boarded, calling his name once more.
“I have a favor to ask you,” he said, his voice wry with jest, lips slightly curled.